Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had an early morning appointment for a mammogram today, and, as usual, I was fearful, not just because my daughter died, but for friends who've died, and the many friends who survived breast cancer. My son-in-law's mother is beginning treatment soon. As we get older we have a one in nine chance of getting the disease. When I sat in the waiting room, I felt all the suffering and anxiety and stories I'll never know breathing with me. I notice we all are extra polite and kind, as if our goodness will give us a reprieve. One young man accompanied his mother and was tenderly solititious with her. Health is a great leveler. Money and class and race don't give you a free pass. We are all naked under the sun. It's a profound lesson that must be learned and relearned. I will be receive a text within 48 hours, but I liked the old way where it took ten days for the result to arrive in the mail. I was then able to forget about it for a while, and the buffer helped. Because the brush with death is there whether you escape or not. We are mortal, and in that lies our common humanity and our great sorrow.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had a long phone conversation with a friend who is embarking on a new phase of her life. She will be caretaking her husband, and his illness will transform their lives, so that even being vaccinated and with our activities opening up, they will not be feeling anything like they did before the pandemic. I know she will do it with grace and competence, but I wanted her to know that I understand what is happening, and think of her many times every day. When I get back from my trip I will visit and do what I can to help. I've been there. She lost her mother this past year and was never to fly out to say goodbye, and eight of their friends died without farewells or funerals. I saw an article in the NYTimes about grief, and how everyone has been impacted by the pandemic, but also by the absence of funerals, goodbye visits, bringing food to wakes, helping physically, and being hugged. Hugged. We all are in shock and without our usual tools to comfort and heal. I'm grateful I've talked to my therapist every few weeks. She's been with me on and off for a dozen years, and knows my history. I wish and hope everyone receives guidance and comfort. My healthcare was all set to place me in a grief bereivement group, but covid canceled that. If it opens up now, in person or on zoom, I will join. The last thing I said to me friend last night was to take care of herself, and ask for help. If we don't, we will suffer greatly.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I finished a book yesterday that is a mystery, but much more: "The Familiar Dark" by Amy Engel. Set in the Ozarks, where my mother's family is from and still mostly resides, the poverty and misogyny is deeply familiar to me. But the theme of a mother who's twelve year old daughter is murdered echoes with my loss of my grown daughter. The mother can't rest until she finds the murderer, and she is hollowed out and all rage. But when she does discover and punish the murderer, of course it heals nothing. She is still alone with her unbearable emptiness. After I finished the last page I wept and wept. I feel a wall between me and the rest of the world, because I have this loss but there is nothing to say. There's no going backward, so there's no fixing it. Engel writes beatifully, and she portrays a world stacked against women. My daughter would have loved the book, and identified with the rage. I KNOW I'm not different from millions of people who lose loved ones, so theorectically I am not alone. But grief makes you FEEL alone. I know the sources of my daughter's anger as well, but it doesn't help me accept the suffering she experienced. It was just so unfair, and now her daughter has a loss that will never be erased. Women have to fight for the right to feel safe, yet we never entirely are, and that truth lives in our bodies. I hope women rise up to protect each other from violence and prejudice and lack of opportunities. But it will take more than what is currently happening. I'm deeply sad about that fact.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We waved goodbye to our son and grandson this afternoon, and our son just texted he'd received his second shot, so in two weeks he will have the immunity that will relax him and our daughter-in-law. It was a whirlwind two weeks, with our own mini-torando. He is a "pistol" as my dad would say (about me, in fact). We truly enjoyed them and the break from our routine, at least I did. My husband had more trouble with it, but adjusted pretty well. I've played a lot of "train", rescuing kittens, and deep space. I think my toddler skills at this point are first rate. But I'm grateful I can start getting organized for our trip north and see an R movie (in two weeks I've seen only Curious George, Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs" and "Shawn the Sheep Movie"). I need some grown up time. I can also have some phone conversations with other adults. Every time I turned around my grandson was running, falling, picking leaves off our plants or begging us to play. That is when he was released from schoolwork. It was like living with the Prisoner of Zenda. I definitely feel our bond was strengthened by the visit, and now I'll soon be off to bond more with the almost two year old grandson and almost teenage granddaughter (born on the same day). Yippee!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I walked with my friend today who had surgery on her nose this week, and though the news was good - no cancer - the incision was large and she's pretty upset. I know that most people think at our age we don't care any more how we look, but this is false. When I had surgery on my forehead, I wore bangs for years afterwards. I am finally okay with my scar, which has faded, but truly, along with the double chin, creppy skin, extra weight, gray hair, and other little joys, we DO care, sometimes a lot. We make an effort to look nice, and not repell our grandkids, and for our own sakes we want to feel attractive, okay, attractive for our age, but still. The little daily indignities sometimes feel as hard to bear as the constant medical appointments, tests and aches and pains of crumbling bodies. And my women friends and I appreciate the effort we make, and it cheers us up. We like new shoes, preferably red. My new eyeglasses that no one else notices perk me up, and when my hair seems all going in the same direction I'm thrilled. It's a mistake to assume vanity goes away in the vast wisdom we possess. We are still FULLY HUMAN. We're not trying to appear younger, just vibrant and expressive of our colorful being within.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We went to the steam trains yesterday morning, as they reopened for school break. Our five year old grandson is crazy about trains, and he was in heaven. Our daughter's one year old was anxious and clung to his mommy. It's a beautiful ride through redwoods and with little storefront towns, trestles, and tunnels. Everybody was looking relieved and just so happy to take their kids on an ordinary outing. The cars were open and only one family per car, and everyone was masked. After the ride I bought my grandson a tee shirt and his dad got him a toy steam train engine. We had brought our lunch and found a picnic table, but it was chilly in the hills and we weren't dressed warmly enough. Last night we picked up Burmese food and had a feast. We just finished some of the leftovers today. I'm proud my son is teaching my grandson Hindi, French and Spanish plus a smattering of other languages. My grandson seems to enjoy it. At five, they are sponges and not resistant. Today I picked up my new glasses, and although I can see no radical transformation, such as me into Diane Keaton, I do like them, especially for something others won't see: there are tiny sparkles on the frames and the sides are pink. It's cheery. I take what I can get, these challenging days.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We watched "Ramona and Beezus" with our grandson last night. His teacher had read them the book, and we discovered the film was "G", a miracle, as nothing but "Cinderella" is G, and sure enough, he was not disturbed at any part. He knew Ramona's daydreams were "imagination", as he put it, and he understood without upset when the cat died, as he has had a cat that died. He laughed at parts, especially the water fight, and I sat admiring the fact that the filmmakers had figured out just what a young child would find funny. There are big changes in the Quinby family, but they weather them in a reassuring fashion. Sandra Oh as Ramona's teacher is delightful, and the entire cast is perfect. It's a tough road finding a movie that is appropriate, even so-called children's films have scary parts. Disney's "Robin Hood" is good, and parts of "Secret Life of Pets", but our year younger grandson got terrified watching Cinderella, and disturbed when the cat falls out the high tower window. He knew that cat, Lucifer, could not survive such a high fall. The stepmother in the dark curtained room got him too. He can see "Cars" and "Secret Life of Pets", but for both of these grandsons, TV has done a better job of creating kind, careful stories for young children. Both of love "Dinosaur Train", "Seseme Street" and shows like "Molly from Denali" and "Luna". We don't let them watch often, but sometimes, it winds them down and has them resting, without a battle over naps or quiet time, two words aborrent to toddlers.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Here we are in the jungle of people who won't mask, people who let their children run around playgrounds without masks, and people who's thoughts I can't fathom, and me, who is constantly surprised by human behavior. Yesterday my grandsons had to stop playing on a slide because other children we're masked, climbed UP the slide and encountered them, and didn't seem to understand about taking turns. We decamped and ended up in a woodsy part of the park, where we were safer. I'm not judging, in a way, I just really can't figure out how we go out in public safely. Our 1 year old grandson is too young to wear a mask, so we have to keep him away from everyone, which is difficult enough, and the four and five year olds get herded around by us like buffalo on the prairie. It's a strange time for everyone, and people are so anxious they are behaving in all kinds of ways impossible to predict. I've said before I feel jumpy, so I also have this covid madness. Hopefully, it will fade, and we will become more self aware and thoughtful. As Buddhists like to advise: be responsive not reactive. I'm working on that for myself.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We did nothing particularly for Easter, as we'd done the egg dyeing and hiding and baskets the day before so the three cousins could all do it together. The eggs were beautiful, but nobody wants to eat them except my husband after I make some into deviled eggs. So yesterday we went to a rose garden with a waterfall and walked around, picked up food from a favorite burger place (my son and I had salads but mt husband had a burger the size of a loaf of bread) and fries and onion rings. It was thrilling to have the later two items. Forbidden treats! Then we flopped around while our grandson played by himself out back, and soon it was time for an easy stir fry dinner, his bath, stories and bedtime. I finished a mystery that was not that good. But I have left a list of 8 books with my favorite bookseller, and they should be here this week, so I can take them on our trip. Having our son and grandson here has been good for us. We watch no TV or DVDs because the TV room is next to where he sleeps. Only Curious George so far. My husband watches basketball on his laptop, and as he's recovered from his team's loss (UConn) he switched to Stanford and was very happy with that exciting game. I've walked with a friend, and read the news a bit on my phone, and am beginnig a book about the housing crisis, but mainly I'm just chill. The calm before the big trip. I've got to pace myself, because after two weeks of a rambunctious 5 year old comes two weeks of a busy 2 year old, then a week of a moody 13 year old. Then back to the adult world most of the time, and since my friends are all vaccinated, we can now do quite a bit more.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm waiting for my daughter to come over so we can decorate Easter eggs. I do love that tradition as well as finding eggs the next morning. Eggs, babies, bunnies, chicks and ducks - what's not to like? Our weather has turned dreary but as we're in a drought it's maybe for the best. Our daughter got us a birdfeeder, and I'm looking forward to it being in a window. I hope we have some visitors. My brother's birthday was always on or near Easter, and my mother's a couple of weeks after. My brother and mother were bright as Easter eggs: my mother blond and chocolate eyed with golden skin and my brother a redhead with green eyes. They were technicolor to my and my dad's black and pale theme. I miss them, and my mother's Easter feast: ham and turkey, scalloped potatoes, peas, dinner rolls and a coconut cake with a nest dyed green and jelly bean eggs. She had little chicks stuck in the frosting as well. We'd go to the sunrise service, then church, and then a midday repast that had us lethargic the rest of the afternoon (that and whatever parts of the chocolate bunny we'd eaten.) Gluttony has it's moments1

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Another hot day here then cooling tomorrow. Luckily, our house does not get hot, and our yard keeps cool. Everything is shaded by large to huge trees. I had another call from my younger son about changes to our visit, but I'm now like - whatever. They lost me at about the fourth change. Planning seems to run in our family to a ridiculous degree. My rock solid feeling that nothing is in our control and we had just as well be ready for surprise has not rubbed off on my kids. Enjoy each moment as it arrives, but without any sense of certainty. This may be where my practice helps me, but it also may be age, because my friends have no delusions of control either. Oh, well. I've lived a twisty, turny life full of surprises. Maybe they've had a steadier path. I hope so, but nothing we can do can promote it or provide it. Luck. And luck is slippery.