Above all, Practice Being Loyal to Your Soul

“Above all, practice being loyal to your soul.” This is a meme that came floating across my Facebook timeline today.  It has a great message, but what if being loyal to your soul is in conflict with someone else being loyal to theirs?  It is not obvious, because there is so much focus in being loyal to one’s own soul and the idea of what is right and perfect in the here and now is subjective and you cannot see where the conflict lies.  But if there is conflict in the relationship, it will not work.  There lies the heaviness.  You get all psyched that this other person might just be “the one,” or at least a good distraction until “the one” shows up. Then as you are listening to your soul, they are listening to theirs and the whole thing comes apart when they reach a different conclusion about the whole thing.

He had said, from the beginning, that he was not ready, so I am not surprised to be disconnected, even after a couple of months of groovy mixed signals and pleasant lunches.  Even though I knew it wouldn’t be what I wanted it to be, I am sure somewhere I hoped some magical process would change it. 

I wish I could be the calm, Zen, be here now, understanding person all the time.  I hate being the emotional, reactionary girl I can be when it comes to matters of the heart.  But after a good cry I have come to the conclusion that he is only being true to his own soul and following up on what he needs to grow and heal.  This is very important and I do not deny it is a good thing.  In being true to his own soul he has ultimately enabled me to be true to my own.  I had spent some time finding ways to justify being physical without exclusivity and commitment.  In some ways I am glad I considered that possibility. It helped me understand how other people work and made physical intimacy less serious, which in turn can only help me make it better, more fun, when I have it.

But here is the end result: I made a new friend, who I think (or at least, hope) will be in my life for some time. Also, while I still don’t get what it is the Universe is telling me, I come to this conclusion: I deserve and need someone who is ok with feeling good when he is with me, wants to be with me, and when he is with me doesn’t want to be anywhere else. That is worth waiting for.

Married Men Need Not Apply

I have never been able to figure guys out.  Whenever I have tried, I have been left frustrated.  So I gave up trying and just try to let them be themselves and be thankful for what good things come of being friends with them. And there are many good things about being friends with men.  I like the camaraderie.  I enjoy technical shoptalk, I enjoy talking about music, I enjoy beer.  I enjoy a lot of things that are stereotypically male-ish. I am not a girly-girl and feel that some of my best friends are men.

However, I seem to have collected a group of married men who think I am the best thing since sliced bread…. besides their wives. I don't understand what brings me that kind of energy. I don't play those games and don't want to be told by a married man that if they could be with me they would.  I want to ask them why they are compelled to share this with me, but I just clam up and shut down. Do they think it will make me feel better about my singleness? Do I look that lonely?

I continue to be friends with these men. I feel we are drawn together for a greater purpose, not related to sexual tension but something else.  Some of these men have been there for me at the times when I was being hardest hit by loss and aguish.  I cannot forget the support they gave me.  I don’t think that my being vulnerable to someone, showing my feelings and hurt, should open up dialogue that could lead to huge mistakes. I have been on the other side. I have been the woman on the other side of a man who is confused about our relationship and is searching for who knows what to distract or relieve.  It’s not a great position to be in. I feel for those wives.  I don’t want to stir up any shit, but I feel for them.

I don't want to give up on these friendships, but when the men made those confessions it made our relationships so much more complicated than they should be or need to be. I get mad and don't want to talk to them. I don't want to laugh with them anymore. Sexual tension, something I could handle and dismiss becomes an emotional tension I just can't handle and don’t want to handle.

Some of these situations have been settled by now.  I have had conversation after conversation. But after a while, I have gotten tired of dealing with it and refuse to talk about it anymore. So, help me out here guys, if you are married, don’t open that door.  DO NOT GO THERE.  If you haven’t heard from me in a while, just think back on our last conversation.  Did you fuck it up? Did you go there?

I don’t understand why I get this attention and I have failed in trying to find meaning in it.  So after long consideration, when it comes to my love life: Married Men Need Not Apply.

Remembering September 11

September 11th always reminds me of my brother.  After realizing what was happening, after calling my mother as I drove home from work to get my TV to bring back to work, after watching the towers fall with my co-workers, I called my brother.  I explained to him how I felt like life was changing in a dramatic way and everything was going to be different.  I told him how nervous I was about that.  He told me that my reaction was normal, but things weren't going to change as much as I thought.  And he was right.  I was envisioning nuclear war and loss of family due to breakdown of communications systems and radiation zones.  I was envisioning a police state.

Even with all the TV and media hype, the revoking of some of our civil rights, the added security at airports and having to learn a new way of traveling, September 11, 2001 has not effected me in any way as much as losing my brother to cancer.

September 11 always brings the beginning of a cycle of remembrance for me.  My Sneetch (feline companion for 12 years) died on September 19, 2005.  Hurricane Wilma, the most intense tropical cyclone to ever be recorded in the Atlantic Basin, rolled through on October24, 2005. (Incidentally, my Father's birthday.) My brother Mike finally went to the doctor for abdominal pain he'd been having for weeks at the beginning of November.  He was in the hospital on November 11, 2005, his 43rd birthday.  He was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma on November 21, 2005.  That was the day that changed my life in a most dramatic way.

While I feel a little guilty not buying into the hype the media has poured onto us for the last week, I do feel compassion for those who lost loved ones on September 11, 2001.  Their loss is no different than mine.  It still leaves a cavity in their hearts as I have in mine.We will all fill the holes with memories and for a while that will make it better.  Then the holes will appear again, we will remember and feel the pain.  Then we will fill the cavities again with love.  My hope is that all of that love will spill over and fill the hearts of those who find it hard to be open minded, and accepting of people's differences.  My hope is that LOVE, a Divine Truth, will win.

 
            Mike with The Sneetch: Two friends in Heaven

Dear Universe, I'm Ready.

Don't let my smiling pictures on facebook fool you, if you are my friend there. I having been chasing my fickle friend Joy for a few months now. I admit there are days when I really feel the Joy bubbling up. But then she just creeps away and hides in the corner, leaving me feeling misused and down in the dumps.

One day in late winter I looked up and noticed someone looking at me. A guy. He was pretty handsome, and was looking at me with interest and curiosity. I can't say how long it's been since I noticed that from anyone. Wow, I thought. That's pretty cool. Maybe it's time I gave myself the opportunity to open up again. I have been so wrapped up in the goings on of taking care of my family and starting this new career that I couldn't really see me meeting anyone, let alone dating. So now, with my nursing practice off the ground, my life in more order than it's been in for years, I think, OK, let's give it a whirl.

The new energy this gave me was great. Joy was abundant, even though there was no dating, and not even a conversation about dating. But I thought there could be. Even with that possibility, I felt better about life and yes, even a little more Joyous.

In other aspects of my life, I felt lighter and more Joyful. The garden was being planned and going in. I had a new dog. The weather was changing and getting warmer. I had lost my nursing school weight and was losing more. I genuinely felt emotionally lighter and happier than I had in years.

Conversation with the guy had begun, sort of. Then all of those things I had forgotten about regarding new found interests and sexual tension came back into my consciousness. Self doubt being rampant, I focused more on other things that were making me happy. I found real meaning in my work and that was very good for me. I had hope for new beginnings.

I quickly became disappointed by the lack of any forward movement with this guy (who incidentally was dating someone), so I turned inward and again to my nursing to find more happiness than I had had in years. I thought I had come to the conclusion that I really didn't need that energy from a potential partner to add to my happiness and Joy. However, I had also realized that after hiding for so long from meeting someone I might be able to share my life with, I now felt I was ready and told the Universe in a prayer that I was ready.

That very next week, I met someone. Now, I thought, "Ask and you shall receive. All right!" Very easy and cool conversations began. I was comfortable and yes, a little more full of my friend Joy. But, of course, when I told the universe I was ready, I never mentioned anything about proximity. Foolish girl, you're supposed to think these things out. Yeah, right. So now I think, here's a really nice guy, similar interests, easy to be around. However, he lives a long way away from Cackalack, which is where I presently live. What the hell is the Universe trying to tell me here?

I like to think both of us felt the same way. Interested, but not interested in the long distance thing, but interested enough to continue the conversation over the miles, for a couple of weeks, that is. But that shit doesn't work for most people. I don't know how my niece and her husband did it. Actually I do, since I lived with Jenna while they were courting. I know they were both very dedicated and determined. And I know it was very hard. But it isn't in the cards for me right now. The timing is fucked up, the distance too great. Again and repeatedly I ask why was this person even brought into my life like this if I can't even give it a try? Who the hell needs that torment? It's not his fault and I still really like him and hope to remain friends with him. It's just a sucky situation.

While that bitch Joy is milling about in other people's hearts, I am trying again to find solace and peace in mine. Work has been a little more stressful lately, so it's been more difficult to find Joy there. I do find glimpses of her and smile when she winks at me.

I deeply believe things happen for a reason. If I didn't, I would have checked myself into the Looney Bin a while ago. I have found meaning in my losses. Now I just have to find meaning in this. For now it eludes me. Joy better get her butt back here. I like her too much. And Universe? I am ready. Really. Just none of that bullshit, ok? Is that asking too much? :)

Am I home?

It's been a long time since I had a sense of being at home. Actually I am not sure have ever felt it absolutely. I am content with where I am, however I seldom feel like I am where I should ultimately be. This leaves me with an almost constant feeling of unease and a longing for that place where I will be HOME.

In 2002 after fulfilling my career goals as a sound designer I openly discussed my leaving Philadelphia with a friend of mine. I had no idea where I was to be going, but I knew I had to leave. As I told my friend my initial plans, I had a inner sense of peace come over me in regards to that decision. This led me to believe that I was on the right track. Since then, each major decision I have made that stirred up my life and made it change course has given me a similar sensation. A knowing. A feeling of rightness, even if the decision was painful or leading to great stress.

Moving back to my home town was a stressful endeavor, however, there was a rightness to it. My mother was going to be needing help, there was a school I could attend, and there were job opportunities when I finished school. I never imagined I would be living in my mother's house after her death. It was an idea that I avoided, that repulsed me to an extent, but here I am in her house, now mine. However, I do not feel at home.

I ran into a former teacher the other night. After telling him I had bought my mother's house he said to me, "Now you are rooted here." That idea scared me. My roots are here. I was born here, and have lived here on and off for many years, but I am bothered by the idea that I may have to stay here. It is not an impossible idea, just not ideal. But then again, I have no idea what is ideal. I just have a strong sense that I will know my next step when I find it.

I know that I have to accomplish many things in this house before I can really begin to search for where I am supposed to be next, but I am eager to find out where my next "place" will be. I know that it is important to have good friends nearby and a secure job. The culture of the city is important too. There are many aspects of my hometown I love, but I do not feel like it is my last town. However, I could have it all wrong. The Universe has a way of showing me that I don't have the plan, that I am just following the map as it unfolds.


http://apod.nasa.gov/apod/astropix.html

Jewels of Light

Many people have asked me over the last six years how I could keep going on with all the pain and loss I have experienced. I could only tell them that there is no other choice but to keep on keeping on. I do what I can, swimming against the relentless tide. As things have settled down, and I have found a place of balance and peace, I look back. I try to see how I did it. How did I manage to get through day after day? It wasn't without tears, frustration, anger or overwhelming sadness. But it was also with many moments of joy, love and light.

When my brother Mike got sick, I knew he was going to be taken from us. I just knew it inside. I cried in the shower so no one would see me. I put on a calm face outwardly and did what needed to be done, what Mike asked me to do. Mike gave me a job, the job of making things happen and bearing witness to his illness. I was the messenger of goings on, and the bearer of bad news. I was the supplicant asking for prayers. I did not think of how I could do it. I just did it. I kept breathing and tried to remain focused on my only prayer which was that he would beat his cancer.

I saw jewels of light within the dark corners of that experience. The friends that Mike didn't know he had rallied by his side. They brought us food, money, cards, and laughter. When Mike finally understood how many friends he had he was overwhelmed. We both saw the sparkle of light in these friendships. Mike had a great view from his hospital room. We watched many sunrises over the Atlantic Ocean and the intra-coastal waterway, holding coffee from Starbucks and french crullers from Dunkin Donuts. Quietly we sang praises for another day.

When my mom was diagnosed with liver cancer three months after Mike died, I was numb. How could this be happening again, I thought. But with a great sigh, I steadied myself for another roll in the surf. My mother's illness was not as acute as Mike's, so there was not the urgency to gather and cling to what we had together. I stayed in Florida while she stayed in Winston-Salem. I asked for more prayers for her and continued to breathe daily and focus on the jewels of light in this situation.

My mother and I grew closer when Mike died. She saw how I took care of him. She saw and felt the unconditional love I found for them both. She once told me she marveled at how she had seen me transform from a selfish young woman to a giving helper and healer. This recognition by my mother was another jewel of light. Even though I did not expect or want praise for taking care of matters, my childish need for a parent's approval was sated. And with this approval and affirmation I began to see the changes within myself.

Continued contact with my niece Jenna kept me going. That she managed to get through school, get married and move on was joyful. I loved watching her find her way to womanhood. She was a jewel of light in my life, and seeing her dance with her new husband was seeing her right where she belonged. My mother's illness had become untreatable by the time my niece was to be married. Mom set a goal to be present at her wedding. She made that goal for sure and was beautiful, another jewel of light.

When I moved to Winston-Salem, under great stress, to continue school, I found opportunities to be with my Mom regularly. We shared stories, mostly hers. I took time to take in her presence, which no doubt was formidable even as she got weaker. Friends gathered to help when she was very sick and on her way. That I could only ask and have people willing to help was beautiful. Dear friends of mine as well as Mom's friends all pitched in to make sure I could stay in school. My class mates helped me even though they barely knew me. These were blessings I did not fully understand until a year later.

Somehow I managed to get through school and pass my boards. Each day I looked for the positive moments that I could carry with me. At home alone, I would sometimes weep for my lost ones and sometimes I would laugh at the absurd memories.

Now, a year after finishing school and becoming a nurse, each day at work is challenging. I learn something new all the time. That is very special. I have found opportunities to share my experiences with my patients and their families. It is a comfort to them that they are not alone. I have found words to help them look for the jewels of light in the dark corners of their experience. When I connect with them I know that all the pain and suffering I have experienced has not been in vain: another jewel of light that fills me with joy. This keeps me going.


A jewel: Some of the cyclists that gathered to raise money for Mike January 29, 2006.

Room to breathe

I have a lot of stuff I have collected through the years. I also have a lot of stuff that has been collected by members of my family through the years. I often complain how I have three people's worth of stuff, yet it seems it is more than that.

I have this collection of maps. Some of the maps are of places I have been to, and will probably go again. Others are those that my mother collected, of far off places she never saw that I will most likely never get to. In this day of electronic mapping, I wonder if I even need to keep these maps. Maps are comfortable, intriguing items to unfold and to look at and imagine the journeys I could embark on. Otherwise they just take up space. Space I need. But I am reluctant to recycle them, to get rid of them. I like that they are there. And I am tortured by them taking up space.

I don't want to take up the space opened up by one thing being thrown out with another thing. I just want the space. I want the breathing room. A long time ago I moved into an apartment by myself with just a few pieces of furniture, my kitchen stuff, my sound studio stuff and my cat. I had room to dance in my apartment and space to look into and to meditate on. I slowly collected things to fill in those spaces along the walls, on the bookshelves, in the closet. I added weight to my life with every addition.

Now I live in the house that was once my mother's house. I am slowly blending her things with mine. My brother's things, being mine now, are also in the mix. And then there are those items that had belonged to my sister. All of us, Mom, Mike and myself, held on to those things that were Kate's. So now I have four people's worth of stuff. All of these items have very little value to me other than they once belonged to someone who was once here and now is gone. They attach little emotional weights on my heart that make it so very hard to look at them as just objects. They seem to say to me, "Keep me. I will remind you of her," as if I am not always reminded of my lost ones.

There is a simple round red tin can with a funny lid that has an attached pry lever to open it. This was brought back from Missouri by my sister Kate. She only willingly showed me what was inside it once. She had collected a bunch of downy feathers from some fowl living on the farm where my Aunt Clare had lived, and put them in the can. I suppose the can was only there to protect the fragile feathers. That trip to Missouri was over 30 years ago. I have that can with its feathers and have brought it with me from place to place. It sits on a shelf with some other stuff. I am hesitant to let go of it. It tells a story of the kind of thing that enticed Kate's imagination and interest. And though Kate has been gone for so long now, 29 years this May, when I open the can there is a fresh memory of her.

There is also the regular stuff people hang on to. A record collection for that day when I get a record player hooked up to my stereo, dishes, books, (oh my, there are a lot of books!), and photographs of four generations of the Connors and Tague families. It is a huge challenge to cull through all of this stuff. To pare it down to bare essentials is a colossal feat that when I begin to think about doing it my brain just stops. I get distracted by the smallest thing, and I try to think of how to just rearrange everything so it fits. But so that it fits with room to breathe.

Ultimately I have to let go of a lot of these things. And though I wish to have more things that once belonged to my father's family, such as his mother's oriental carpets that were once in the house I grew up in and the china cabinet that my Dad moved from Boston to Homestead so that I could have it, I long for a time when I can put all of my stuff in a small storage space and bolt off to some far off place I have only seen on a map in my mother's collection.

Metamorphosis

It is the end of the year again. I should be writing about all that I have experienced in the last year. I have done this a few times in the past and while it is a cleansing of sorts, I am finding it harder to do this year.

The last five years have been filled with such huge changes in focus and energy. It has been easy to put it out there and let them go. This year has been a transformation more than a change for me. Change is often brought about by outside forces, while transformation seems more personal and deliberate.

My symbol for the year, or possibly my spirit guide, has been the Butterfly. The butterfly is a transformational being, having been through metamorphosis from a larva, stuck on the ground and in the weeds to forage and eat, to a freer, flying being, showing off its colors and stretching its wings. I have felt much the same this year. When I started my new job there was a sign up on the unit welcoming me. It had a Butterfly picture on it. My badge holder, which I bought over five years ago has a Butterfly on it. There is a Butterfly mobile hanging in the nurses station. These symbols surround me and seem to remind me that I have been in transformation, but now I may just be learning to really fly.

Events that occurred in 2010:
Graduated from nursing school, with honors, despite the challenges I faced in the previous year.
Studied for and passed the NCLEX.
Took a week off in the Dominican Republic with my family and friend Donna.
Was hired to be a staff nurse at Wake Forest Baptist Medical Center in the Surgical Oncology unit.
Started my training for real.
Had a big party welcoming spring and celebrating our graduation.
Went to Kerrville Folk Festival and realized I really needed to focus on my work for a while. (This made me choose to miss Philadelphia Folk Fest.)
Had the trim and doors on the exterior of the house painted. This gave the house a more vibrant look.
Had the crawlspace under the house lined with vapor barrier, and I re-painted the living room.
Bought the house from Dianne and Jenna, allowing Jenna and her husband to buy a house of their own.
Lost my beautiful big boy Pi to a car on Robinhood Road. Had him cremated.
Celebrated Thanksgiving with the Tribe in Arkansas.
Worked through the Christmas holidays.
Learned more than ever.
Remained calm when patients were having a rough time.
Felt my spirit shine.
Showed off my colors a bit.

Dear Universe: What's the deal?

I am one of those people who will do anything for you. I wasn't always like that, but the universe has changed my ways. I figure I can let go of my old selfish self and embrace the newer healer and helper. That's a magnificent idea. Except today I feel selfish again, and I kind of think the universe owes me a little. I have lost my family, and a few friends. I have given up one career to take up another. I have given up relationships so I can have a career. So now that I am settling into this new life the universe has given me, I feel like I deserve a little personal attention.
I have put my heart on my sleeve in the past, just to have the universe swipe it off like a fly. And today feels no different. Just when I thought the universe was telling me it was safe to get back out there and be vulnerable, a big stop sign shot up in my face. What kind of karma does a girl need to cultivate to have love in her life?

Transition

I took out a dying Rose of Sharon and replaced it with a lovely young "Dura-Heat" Birch. I will be adding flowers to the surrounding soil and to a stretch of soil to the right of the tree. The whole thing amounts to an oval or tear drop shaped island in the front yard.

The Rose of Sharon, with beautiful white double blooms, had been nursed along by my mother for years. Every year more branches would die and have to be cut off. Last year I swore I would cut it down, but did not. I cannot decide if it was because I was too busy to take the time to do it, or if I just did not want to destroy something my mother took great pains to nurture. It bloomed well in spite of the continual rotting of the tree.

This removal and replanting is part of an ongoing project of getting the house in order and preparing it for sale. I am still not sure if I want to stay in it or leave. The original plan with Mom was to sell it right away. But since she died at an inopportune time, now is when I have the time to sort out the details. The house has grown on me, so I don't mind staying for a while. The market is down, so we will not get as much as it is worth if we sell now. But, I would like to live closer to town, closer to places I like to shop and things I like to do.

Whether I stay in the house or not does not really matter in terms of fixing it up now. Things still need to be gone through, given away, thrown away. The weather is getting nicer, so soon I will be sorting out the garage. There are a lot of things in there I do not know what to do with. I am tempted to rent a dumpster.

I am at a time of transition, which is really the only reason I have time to do all of this. I am finished with school, have my nursing license, and am waiting to get hired. My contract with Baptist Hospital requires that the hospital has a certain length of time in which to place me. I have to be patient.

In the meantime, I am taking advantage of the extra time I have. I am cleaning out closets, planting trees and flowers, knitting and reading books that aren't text books. I am also taking the time to grieve the loss of my family, a long overdue process, which is yet another transition.

2009 was a hard year

What a hard year it has been. It seems that the last few years have been full of difficulties and hardships. But on the other hand, I know I am lucky.

I started the year with my entrance to nursing school. Orientation did little to orient us, but we came to class anyway with eyes like a deer stuck in headlights. We had so much work to do with the first test the following week. Slowly we became accustomed to having tests weekly.

Five weeks into the nursing program, and at the end of one course, Mom became ill. One day we went to a Winton Marsalis concert, with her driving, then the next week she had trouble getting around and carrying things.

I started the process of getting Hospice on board. This takes some time, as all kinds of details have to line up. Mom got very sick. Her abdomen had swollen as if she was six months pregnant, and she couldn’t stay focused on everyday things. She knew there was something wrong. After a run around at the VA clinic I took her to the Emergency Room and they admitted her to the palliative care unit at Forsyth Hospital. She was very sick and only getting sicker. After a couple of days they determined she had only weeks to live, probably. Hospice was brought in and I made arrangements for people to stay with Mom at her home while I was in school. Her friends from her AA group were a huge help. Other friends were in and out and my dear, long time friend Meg was there daily.

We continued to monitor her pain level and cognitive function. It was so hard because she didn’t want to sleep, and she would stay in the same position, standing or sitting, for hours, though I suppose for her it seemed only moments. She would say long strings of words that made no sense as a sentence, however they rhymed. I would learn later that this is known as “Clang Association.” She would try to say a full meaningful sentence but she would end with a word that rhymed with the word she meant to use. When we tried to ask if she was ok or wanted to move or needed anything, she would customarily snap at us as if we had just asked. It usually had been an hour or so since last checking on her.

Her pain worsened. It got more difficult for her to get around. We had a wheel chair that made it easy to move her from room to room, but she still wanted to try to walk. And she still wanted to do what she wanted to do, dammit. It was hard for her to grasp that other people needed to be with her and that their needs had to be considered. I suppose I am mostly speaking of myself. I spent all day in school, and all evening wrangling her. I was stuck between needing to study for the next impending test, and wanting desperately to spend every moment I could with my mother. Every once in a while she would say something with such clarity and conviction. As she said these things I knew I should pay attention and remember them. But they would run fleeting through my tired mind. It was enough just to be with her.

After four weeks of family and friends coming in and out of the house, after another four weeks of school where I wasn’t sure, on a daily basis, if I could continue, after essentially moving into Mom’s house, but leaving a lot of my things behind at my apartment, Mom’s condition worsened. It was the end approaching. It was the end of Mom’s life, and the end of the term at school. I had lab check offs and final exams at school, and Mom’s pain increasing and breathing patterns changing at home. I called the family to come. I wouldn’t have made it to or through that week without my new made school friends helping me with study guides and support, or without my oldest friends staying with me by my dying mother’s bedside and helping her transition out of this world and into the next.

Many other things happened along the way. There were the cigarette wars. Mom was going to smoke, dammit. It was her house. I didn’t want her to smoke alone, because she was prone to dropping the lit cigarettes. So, we made sure to keep her cigarettes out of her reach if no one was actively with her. This controlling behavior pissed her off, but was necessary.

One day when my uncle Paul, my aunts Eileen and Clare and my cousin Sarah were visiting, we were all on the deck enjoying the nice warm early spring weather. Mom was sitting quietly and someone asked her how she was. She replied, “I’m radiating out into the universe.”

While my sister was singing “Amazing Grace” to her at her bedside, Mom said aloud, “Fuck it.” That didn’t stop Dianne from singing, and later we all got a chuckle out of it.

Near the end, one of the last things I heard my mother say was, “We’re going to take it apart, and put it back together again.” That was sort of the story of her life. The people who knew my Mom know she was an auto mechanic for many years, and was always tinkering and pulling things apart and putting them back together. Periodically her life would seemingly be pulled apart, and bit-by-bit she would put it back together.

On Wednesday March 25, 2009 I had my final exam for Pharmacology. When I got home I found my Aunt Eileen was there with my dear friend Donna who had come from Massachusetts to help me. Meg was also there, still there from the day before. After a while Meg said goodnight and farewell to Mom. My Mother had been a second mother to her. At the very end, Eileen, Donna and I were by her side. We had been taking advantage of the gifts of food brought by friends and had just finished desert when Donna put her hands on my mother. Mom’s choppy “Cheyne-Stokes” breaths quieted, she took a few gentle breaths, and was gone, out into the universe. We decided that she had only waited for desert.

A few hours later, Paul and Clare arrived. The next morning we got up and did what our family has always done. We went to breakfast. After breakfast I took my final exam for my Health Assessments class and the following day I took the final for my Introduction to Nursing II class. I did not stop going to school, nor did I ask school to stop for me.

I decided I needed to wait until after my first round of clinical experience before I could handle a memorial service. It may have seemed a little late for some people, but I wanted to give attention to my mother’s life. The people who knew her later in her life never knew her as a mother of young children, as a beautiful race car driver, as a stunningly tall Marine Corps Officer. I had many pictures to scan, music to select, and above all, readings and speakers to arrange to present a memorial to my mother that was not typical. Because of all things my mother was, she was not typical.

So, despite a few snags and snafus we had a lovely memorial service for Mom in May. We laid her ashes to rest next to Mike and kitty corner to Kate. The family left, (Clare stayed on a few days to help organize a few things for me) and I continued school.

In April I had moved completely out of my apartment into Mom’s house. Most of my things went into storage. I continued with school, while periodically moving things into the house and out of the house.

I immersed myself in school. I barely let myself breathe. But I have learned so much. I have witnessed birth, pain, understanding, learning, joy at small things, heartbreak at large things and vice-versa.

Together, my cohorts and I have trudged through this year’s education. From May until now we have been but a blur. We have nursed cancer patients, general surgery patients, neurology patients, mental patients, maternity patients, heart patients, victims of car accidents and many others. We went through the rite of passage of nurses and were “pinned” on December 17, though we don’t finish until February. This has confused a lot of people. I am forever grateful that Dianne, Meg, Mr. B., Paul, Eileen, Allison, and Anita could be there. Clare was there in spirit and I know that my Mother was with me as well.

As school has progressed I have attempted to take care of myself. I am taking advantage of Hospice’s counseling. I am getting massages occasionally. I am going hiking when I can. I am listening to music. I am seeing my tribe when I can. I am grateful for every day and for having the families I have, both of birth and of choice.

Even though this year has been especially hard, I have a roof over my head. I have food to eat. I have education that will allow me employment even in this difficult time. And though I am the last of my original family, the one I was born into, I have my larger family. I am lucky.

long time no write

It's been forever, it seems since I wrote something here. I guess I am doing a bit better, though I have very little time to truly process everything.
Just a few things:
I really have some cool stuff running through my brain that will make it here eventually. Part of the process.
I am almost finished with nursing school. Everything has been put on hold. Most of the things I thought I'd get to do at the beginning of the year have been put aside, but I will get to go to see my tribe in Prairie Grove, for which I am very grateful.
Nursing school has been difficult, but I am learning a lot. I feel that I may have a renewed energy surging up to get me through the next three months and for that I am also grateful.
My life, as complicated as it is, has been is blessed with good friends, new and old.
More later.
Namaste.

how am I?

People ask me often how I am. I say I am fine. But I am so busy dealing with all that has come down on my shoulders to really know if that is true. I certainly haven't had the time to really think through all that has happened. And I don't think I am fine, but I don't have the time to deal with it, so I'll keep saying I am. Maybe it'll come true.

My mom died on March 25. I am just now getting around to writing it here. I am it, I am the one left of my original nuclear family of five. Siblings and parents all gone, I stand here. Alone in many ways, though not alone. There are friends and extended family. There are cats. There is stress and tension and too much to do in school. I feel like I will have to put dealing with this on hold until next year when it is more convenient to handle. I know that's a pipe dream. I have to deal with it now. But how can I add counseling into my already intense schedule? I keep thinking that if I can just get a few things out of the way, I will be better. And as things get out of the way, more things and priorities come and take their places.

It's not fair. That's pretty much it in a nut shell. Crappy shitty circumstances. That's it for now.

Reflections of 2008

At the beginning of 2008 I thought I would be in south Florida right now. It’s funny how the twists and turns of life set you in the place you are supposed to be, even if you try not to go with it.

Disappointment in my school’s policy changes made me look at what my plans should really be. School sanctioned loans were now only being available to pay for tuition and school related expenses, not living expenses. It was not what I had been told when I started, and I was angered by the way they handled the change. Those students who were taking advantage of loans that helped with living expenses were not told the policy changed. My loan moneys were sent back to the lender instead of being held for my tuition in the next term. They made it very difficult to be in school. So I started looking elsewhere. I got private loans (Thank goodness I have good credit). I continued to make good grades. I grew amazed at the kind of student I have become. I stopped working so I could focus better on school.

My mom suggested coming back to Winston-Salem. The schools were less expensive, as was the cost of living. I looked into it and found an accelerated program at Winston-Salem State University. I figured out if I scheduled everything just right, I could be finished with the prerequisite course work in time to start the program in January of 2009.

Jenna was coming in on the home stretch in school and planning her wedding. In a flurry of activity over a period of about three months, she finished her piano proficiency requirement, (not without many prayers and hours of practice), then she produced a new demo CD and produced a final concert, the likes of which her school had never seen before. I helped Jenna with her demo by listening to the recordings and making suggestions and by designing the cover-art. Her concert was with a full band with back up singers. We stretched the capabilities of the sound system, and helped the school folks figure out what things weren’t as they were designed to be. It was a learning opportunity for all involved. The concert was recorded and was well received by the audience. The whole project took up more time than I expected it would. Luckily I was on spring break the week of the concert. It all ended with my being absolutely proud of Jenna. Mike would beam as well. I think I beamed enough for the both of us.

Shortly after, Jenna graduated and moved away from Florida to get married and land, for a while, in Hawaii. I cried when Jenna moved away. We had grown incredibly close over the last five years. Our experience together bonded us forever. I cried because I knew that a step in my journey was completed and I was back on my own.

I watched Jenna as a beautiful Bride in Charleston. As I watched her dance with her husband I saw a woman who was right where she belonged. As I packed up the sound system from the wedding, I felt Mike’s presence with me. He was surely there that day.

After the wedding I finished the term at school and packed up all of my stuff again, embarking on another leg of my journey. I reconnected with my stepmother who I had not seen since my Dad died. It was cool to hear her describe the person she saw as my dad. I had forgotten some of his goofier characteristics, and now I see them in myself. Back in West Palm I had to say goodbye to a lot of people I had met along the way, a lot of Mike’s friends and folks I had met working. Some were people I may never see again. Others are friends that I yearn to see every day. It was hard to say goodbye.

It was hard to leave, knowing I was leaving a bit of my experience with Mike behind. I was leaving Clematis Street and West Palm Beach and all of its strange small town weirdness that Mike loved. I was leaving the bike racks that our friend Raphael had placed by the downtown Starbucks in loving memory of Mike. I was leaving the regulars that could be seen watching the foot traffic outside of Starbucks.

I was supposed to leave behind the intensity of the last four months of Mike’s life, but it all came crashing down on me on the day I was supposed to leave. The emotions I had kept so well tucked away while helping Jenna get through losing her dad and finishing school bubbled up and washed over my eyes. I couldn’t see to pack the trailer. I remembered my dear Sneetch who I had lost right before Mike got ill. I remembered I was moving to North Carolina primarily to spend more time with my mother who had inoperable and unresponsive cancer. The losses experienced while in Florida choked me.

After packing the big truck, I couldn’t fit all of the stuff left in the house into the trailer I had rented. I had already locked the big truck with the locked provided by the trucking company; otherwise I would have added the extra stuff to it. I had more stuff in my life because I had Mike’s stuff too. Although I had managed to give away or sell a lot of his stuff, there was still more than I could handle at the time. It added to my frustration. Lois came by and I was beside myself. I could tell she didn’t know what to do with me. I think I was showing all of the grief of the last few years on my face. All I had been holding back was pushing against my surface.

I left behind a few things. Lois and Raphael agreed they would keep a few things for me. I couldn’t even finish cleaning the house. I did a lot of cleaning. I was by myself and running out of time. After a short nap, I loaded my newest companion, Pi, into the car and set off. Hauling the trailer, sleeping occasionally, I finally made it to Winston-Salem after nearly twenty hours, normally a twelve-hour drive.

I started school the very next day and have been going full tilt ever since. I completed a five-week course in microbiology at UNCG. I moved into my apartment on July first, the day before my first test. Settling in happened gradually. I got to attend the Philadelphia Folk Festival for the first time in two years. That festival gives me the opportunity to mix music for recording. I hope the festival continues and I continue to have that opportunity.

I started at WSSU in August. I finished my prerequisites with Chemistry. I also took an elementary Spanish course. This new school has it’s own issues within its administration, but the program won’t be so long that I can’t put up with the idiosyncrasies. I was accepted and given a scholarship for the accelerated program. The scholarship is for books, fees and in-state tuition only. Since I’ve been away so long, I am considered an out-of-state student for tuition purposes. I can petition for status change in July.

I managed to take off to New York City on fall break. A good friend got married, and it gave me the excuse to see some friends there. It was cool to be there in the fall and to connect with the place where Mike and I had such an interesting time in his last month.

Arriving in North Carolina, I began a new relationship with my Mother. We have been having a real good time getting to know each other better. She has expressed her appreciation for my being close. She says I’ve added a spring to her step. We are grateful for everyday that she wakes up and every moment we have together. I hear a lot of the same stories over and over. Part of that, I am sure, is Mom working through the details of her health and her decision not to try any more treatment. Part of that is that she likes to talk and tell stories, even if they are the stories of her life today.

In the background I am bracing myself for what’s to come. School will become much more intense. Mom might get sicker very quick. She may die quickly. There are many possibilities. One thing I know for sure is that I am strong enough to handle it. It crushes me with the weight some days, but I know that I will get through it.

I have a selfish desire to have Mom see me graduate. The last time I graduated college she was snuck onstage. When I turned around to receive my paper, she was holding it out to me. I don’t expect that to happen again, but it would do me good to see pride on a parent’s face again. She actually shows me that a lot. I am just being greedy. How much more can I do for her? What else can we do with the time given us? I ask that question regularly. She’s not up to a whole lot of activity lately, but we do see each other regularly. I suppose that is enough. I have to hold those moments close. I also have to hold close the moments I have with friends. They are as important as my family. With out them I do not believe I could stand in the storm of my life.

At the close of this year, I can only imagine what lies ahead of me. I learned from last year, that I shouldn't make predictions. I hope to make a trip to Florida to see some folks there. I hope to go back to Philly Folk Fest. I hope to go to Kerrville, but I don’t see that as a possibility. I am pretty sure I’ll be in Prairie Grove for Thanksgiving. A small windfall to allow me to go to Hawaii and see Jenna would be great too. Until I get employed again though, I have to stick close to home. My home. Wherever that may be.


Photo by Ruth Whitten

Soap

The resulting soap granules, which looked as if they would measure less than a gram in mass, looked like cream-colored breadcrumbs, but when rubbed between the fingers were soft and slick like soft damp soap one would have in the bath.

political feelings

First I want to say that I am pleased with the outcome of the election this year. There are many feelings swirling around regarding the historical momentous place we find our selves in. Having grown up in the south, not understanding why people had a problem with race, I find it pleasing to know that the south is starting to change. If John McCain had been elected, I would be in a depression that no financial bailout would have helped.

I generally don't hang my politics on my sleeve or put them on my car. I think quietly about who I think would be a good choice for the issues that I find important. I think a lot of people do that. My number one issue is the environment. If we continue to run our environment into the ground, changing it into something that we, as well as all the other species we live with, have not evolved to be in, we cannot continue as a species. So if we do not have a supportive environment that is conducive to our continuation as a species, it does not matter if we can afford to buy a house, or if we have health care. No amount of health care is going to be able to compete with our own quick and drastic change of our environment. Our physiological systems of homeostasis have evolved to live in the world we are rapidly losing. Evolution just does not happen that fast.

I found it disheartening that most of the candidates did not talk about the environment in the initial outburst of campaigning. I say most, but not all. Dennis Kucinich spoke about the environment. Ralph Nader spoke about the environment. But did we hear media coverage of anyone speaking on the environment? I did not. I did not even know Ralph Nader was running for president until about a month and a half before the election.

I know Ralph Nader is a risky person to put on TV. He is something of an edge dancing liberal. Even some of my liberal friends do not take him seriously. However, how much time has the media given him to tell us what his plans are? How do we know what his ideas for our future would be if the media does not show the public any of his speeches? I am not saying he would have been a better choice. What I am trying to convey is that we did not have the opportunity to even hear what he had to say. He and the other candidates for president that were not in the two major parties were not invited to debate the major candidates. I find that appalling.

It makes me wonder about payola in the media. Do the candidates from the major parties pay off the major news networks to cover them? If the smaller grassroots candidates had more money, they could give payola too. Would that put them in the debates? I really hope that the future holds more debate by more candidates.

I hope that our future is looking better. I feel a sense that good change is coming. I pray that Mr. Obama doesn't give in to the political pressures and turn from the everyman president into the everyday politician. I pray he and his family stay safe.

where is HOME?

On my way home from Philly Folk Fest, where I was fawned over a bit too much, I got to thinking about HOME. Where is HOME? I have a place to live, so for now that is home. But I don't feel HOME. I am not settled. There are too many things to do and a lot of nervous energy around me, most of which is in me.

I often speak or write about my life as a journey. Each large episode seems to be a leg of the whole journey. But lately this leaves me feeling like I cannot settle down and find a PLACE to BE.

Mike had expressed his appreciation to me for helping him feel like he was HOME after many years of being on his own and only having places to put his stuff and lay his head. It left me feeling unsure of my role in his feeling, but I excepted how he felt as good.

There is a part of me that wonders if I find that place of HOME if I will be near to the end of my life, like Mike was (unknowingly) when he found HOME. I know it is silly to even think about it in terms like that, but there is a swirling question of what the hell it all means. I yearn for calm and mellowness and comfort. I try to find it even while I journey.

My mother's illness progresses slowly. She is finding quality of life where she can. And she is Home.

whirlwind

so it's been a whirlwind for the last few weeks, and I just have to procrastinate on the things I should be doing (studying) and put down right here the recent goings on.
quickly:
I packed a truck with most of my stuff on Monday June 23.
I pack the rest of my things into a trailer on Tuesday June 24, leaving behind a few things because I couldn't fit them. A further dissertation on my emotional place at that point will be left for another writing.
I drove to NC, my home state and home town of Winston-Salem, arriving in the morning of Wednesday June 25. That day I returned the trailer, checked in at UNCG, bought my books, found out where my classes were. Slept.
Thursday June 26 was the first day of class. Microbiology lecture and lab.
Friday through Sunday I had off. I tried to rest as much as possible, but had to study too. It was Mom's birthday on Sunday. I gave her the gift of cleaning her living room, including the windows, and accumulated mold. uck.
Monday back to school. Four and a half hours a day.
Tuesday the truck arrived and mom wrangled some hands to help put things in the new place. (after school)
Wednesday I had my first test in Lecture. I got an A, but barely.
Wednesday class, and some poking around the new place.
Thursday was the first night in the new place. After class I went to BB&B to get some necessaries. Pi and I enjoyed our new place. Friend Meg came by and hung out, helped me figure out some kitchen details.
The DSL and phone was supposed to be up Thursday, but it didn't work. And by the time I found that out it was too late to call, and the next day was independence day. Ugh. I called Saturday, but they were out for the holiday weekend.
Monday morning I called at&t to be told that on their end everything was fine. The landlord told me the lines had been ripped out when they took out the old carpet. He didn't put them back in since everyone is using cell phones these days. Hmmm. Mom is not going to want to call me long distance on my cell phone when I live across town...
I have my first "Unknown" in lab later Monday (that is today) Luckily I got an easy one and got done early. I have a test in lab and a test in lecture tomorrow. There's a lot of information on line for these tests. good study opportunities, chat rooms, etc. I NEED MY HIGH SPEED INTERNET!!! Friend meg offered her place and gave me a key after a mild fiasco of her locking herslef out of her house whilst in her jammies. I arrived shortly afterwards, took her to get a spare from a friend who works at whole foods where I ran into an acting teacher from my youth. Re-connections already starting!
I stopped in at my mom's to pick up some stuff and was confronted with a letter from my former landlord who itemized every thing that was wrong with the place I just left, including a whole bunch of stuff that the prior tenant did. He took some money out of the deposit. I was ok with that. It was the itemized list that burned me.
So I went back to my place, fuming. Got on the floor to play with the cat a bit, when I spied the cut phone line at the baseboard of the kitchen.
My McGiver skills went into action. I got my wire cutters and spliced a wall jack into the loose wire.
And here I am writing this down. Now, I really should go and study viral anatomy and synthesis.
CIAO YA'LL!

Just in time?

Every once in a while I think to myself, "What the hell am I doing changing careers and leaving audio?" Today I read about the CADAC console's manufacturing company going into administration. In this bad global economy, when even the best manufacturers are having problems staying open, I suppose I am leaving just in time.
If the company does sell, I hope it doesn't go the way of so many other companies and lose the quality of the product. CADAC is known for high quality, both aurally and engineering wise. As heavy as a bus, but worth it to so many people in the business of audio.

one thing after another

Life has been full to say the least. Everyday for the past few months have been busy, and even sometimes stressful.

At the end of March, Jenna had her senior project, which was a concert with a band. It happened that the concert fell in my Spring Break, which was good, because I did a lot of work for her. Along with the concert she also recorded her new demo. She and I did a photo shoot and I designed the artwork for the demo cover. The concert itself involved a fairly stressful day. The recital hall at her school supposedly was capable of doing what we wanted to do, but they had never done a concert as technically involved as hers. She had a drummer, a bassist, a lead guitar, a piano, and even back up vocalists. Three monitor mixes would have been ideal, but some of the wiring was not working as it was labeled, so we had to go with two. Set up took longer than wanted, so the sound check got shorter. Over all we were ready when performance time came. The recording of the show was only dealt with on the fly, so the first couple of songs have some overdriving distortion issues. But, again, overall it sounds good. Everyone was impressed with how well she sang and played. She even played the piano and sang at the same time, which even I had never seen her do. She was great! Mike would have been beaming with pride.


You can hear these tracks on her myspace page.

While I was available for work in my last week of spring break, I did not get any work, so I had the opportunity to chill out. I did not do much of anything. It was just fine. :) Meanwhile, Jenna's wedding plans continued. Everyday there was something else happening, someone else whining they wanted to be invited. Wedding planning does not help keep the stress low.

I have gotten some work, though as of a few weeks ago, I am no longer on the work list. Between school and the increased social calendar prior to my moving away, I felt it would be better to not have to say "no" to work all of the time. School is very demanding this term. In my Psychology class there is a lot of reading, and papers due every week.

I had the opportunity to support my brothers and sisters of IATSE Local 500 and walked a picket line around the Kravis Centre for Performing Arts. I even made it into the paper! This was the first time I have ever walked a picket line. I may not be an uber-union person. Being born on the cusp often leads me to seeing both sides of an issue equally. But, I don't feel that it is fair that my friends were locked out of a theatre that they made work as smoothly as it does. They were cut out of tens of thousands of dollars worth of work a year. Some of them are really struggling financially. It was an honor to walk beside them.


Barry, Rubin, and Me, brothers and sister, in front of the Kravis Center (Daily News Photo by Jeffrey Langlois)

May 3rd Jenna graduated!! After five years, she finally got to walk across the stage. Of course, after a few years of manipulating the system of a new program at the school, it is no wonder that she wasn't listed to graduate! The stress of the last few months had been compounded by last minute requirements of her to conform to the (new)requirements of the new program; these requirements that had been waived for her major, but the dean had forgotten about. So, it was not surprising when Jenna's name was not listed in the program for graduation. The dean did announce her and she was one of two music students who graduated with honors!


Jenna with her friend and co-worker Nell.

We followed graduation with a party the next day to say goodbye to our South Florida friends. Jenna is of course getting married, and then she is moving to Hawaii for two years. I am moving back to North Carolina to spend some time with my Mom. She is doing good now, and I want to be able to help her when she needs it. The party was a nice and mellow time. People brought lots of yummy food and Jenna and her friend Matt played music. I am sorry more people did not make it, but there is a time to let go of those friendships built on Mike's illness and death. I suppose that is now.


Jenna and Matt in the backyard.

After Jenna's graduation, she started packing. Turning the house upside down, she collected her things, made decisions about what to keep and what not to keep, what was going into storage and what was going to Hawaii. We had daily discussions about what to do with Mike's things. This brought an edge of depression into my life. Now that I have experienced how it feels to be depressed, I can see it coming. I know that it will take a while to get adjusted to the fact the Jenna and I no longer live together. There is a further realization that Mike is gone and is not coming back.

It was really hard to say goodbye to Jenna when she left on May 13. I knew it would be hard. Shopping for a card for her brought tears to my eyes.

So now I live alone again. It's been five years since that has been the case. Tears flow regularly as I sift through Mike's belongings and as I realize that I will have to say good bye to a lot of really cool people here.

I try to see the positive though. I am going back HOME. That means a lot. Winston-Salem is a comforting place both physically and spiritually. It will be great to be near the mountains so I can go hiking. It will be great to live in the same town as Mom and to spend some quality time with her.