The older we become,
the more I take comfort in my husband’s presence,
and the more I am aware,
that our friendship and love
is all that will survive of our existence,
and all that we may pass on
to our children and grandchildren.
Archive for the ‘Family’ Category
my husband’s presence
March 10, 2014oldest daughter
May 31, 2013I am in denial about my age. I really am. It is not possible my oldest daughter, oldest child, will turn 36 in another week. But it is.
I want to do my best to post something about each of my children on their birthdays this year. They were all born in warm weather, Spring, Summer, early Fall. June, August, early September. Jasmine was born in June.
She was a tiny-featured, delicate, petite baby, about 6 1/2 lbs. at birth. From what I remember, 6 lbs. 5 1/2–6 oz. I am one of those mothers who doesn’t automatically remember weight & length of babies at birth. But I can get close. She was about 6 lbs., 5 & 1/2 oz. & 19″ long. So petite. Born to be blonde for sure, as there was just a little light colored hair. Thin little fingers, and almost no nose at all. So tiny. So sweet. And so her name befits her well: Jasmine. The delicate, white or yellow Jasmine flower, so sweet-scented.
The labor was long, but who knows how much of that was because of the ancient, barbaric practice of keeping me tethered to a fetal heart monitor which allowed me little movement in the 15 hours we were at the hospital before the birth finally occurred. Total labor time was about 24 hours. The doctor was … typical doctor, egomaniac, but at the same time, open to a Leboyer birth. He tried to be caring and respectful. We turned down the lights, no spotlight was used, it was about 5:15pm with dusk approaching, and we kept our voices low. All natural birth, and out she came, Jasmine entered the world. Immediately she was placed into a warm little bath, where her daddy held her, the Leboyer bath. It is supposed to make newborn babies feel comfortable, as they just left the water world behind. It seemed to work exceptionally well. There was such JOY in the room, and she relaxed and opened her eyes. Pure joy and happiness. Then little Jasmine Aglaia was whisked down the hall, her father carrying her, to be weighed and measured.
Delightful mother memories of a 24-yr-old new mommy. We had an ancient pediatrician who denied breast feeding because of a “possibility” of mother/child problems with blood types, so after nursing her once or twice, I pumped breast milk down the drain and nurses fed her a bottle. This was our first major trial. I could have stopped breast feeding right then & there. But with support of husband and mother-in-law, when we got home I soon put the bottles up on a shelf. She was used to them and preferred them, & I realized, if I don’t put them away I’m done. We made the shift, she adjusted and it was one of the best decisions I ever made.
These are happy memories and I cannot imagine, really, that I am the age that I am, with current knee pain giving me fits, and an inability to lose weight. My husband & I each face our own health challenges at the moment. But these are sweet memories.
Her middle name, Aglaia, is a name of one of 3 Greek goddesses. Aglaia was a goddess of beauty.
a quick trek over 6 decades – almost
August 18, 2012Tomorrow is my birthday. I was born approximately 1:10pm on a Wednesday, 59 years ago. My older brother was 8 years older than me so there was a big space between babies. In fact, my parents had been trying to conceive for probably a couple years, so my birth was greatly anticipated. I imagine the fact that they then had a girl, after awaiting their 2nd child and already having a son, was also a source of joy. Being born in the middle of summer and a Leo, I have an enjoyment of hot weather (although not so great as my husband’s). Over the years, I’ve had my birthday in quite a few places, such as the Grand Canyon, Yosemite Natl Park or Mexico, since the family was often on vacation. As a kid, I never got an in-school birthday party, but I did get my birthday in fascinating places!
My thought for this blog is to give some very brief thoughts for each decade of my life. I am not as prolific as I used to be and seem to be much more introspective these days. But this sort of occasion seems to merit some musings.
My childhood home was Indiana. Most of my life, in fact, was spent in this state. I have realized, after living a few other places, that there is definitely a Midwestern culture and a Midwestern value system, and I subscribe to it. What is that, you ask? It has something to do with living through the hardship of Winter and smiling at the snow, appreciating survival, appreciating life, taking precautions against the cold that can literally kill you, and knowing the pure joy of a fire in the fireplace on a cold Winter evening. We have been snowed in with our kids for days, more than once. The first time with children was when our firstborn was a few months old. My husband’s parents lived in the house next door and it took 2 days to get out to them. I have realized over time that this teaches you to work through the tough times. The Midwest and Purdue also have their cultural flavor. Hispanics hit the scene big time much later than the time when I was growing up, but they are part of the culture, part of the landscape now. Asians at Purdue are a large population. I grew up appreciating diversity, seeing diversity through my father’s profession and school, if not so much in our own neighborhood. We entertained my father’s international students many times in our home as dinner guests.
My first decade. Memories, to me, revolve around the houses I’ve lived in. My first 5 years were spent close to Purdue. Being a Boilermaker is literally part of my bones. My father graduated from and taught there, I was taken to basketball games probably before I could speak, and I used to go with him to campus on Saturdays, blissfully exploring the Mechanical Engineering building while he worked in his office. There were all sorts of displays of machines of various kinds. One of them was a weighing machine where my younger sister and I could weigh ourselves. It was a big adventure. My sister was born 2 1/2 years after me. One of my very earliest memories is of myself crawling on the floor pretending to be a baby, with her bottle in my mouth.
At age 5, we moved across the river, still in Purdue country but not exactly in the same town. We moved into a much larger 2-story house with an attic and basement. The attic was hot and full of treasures some people might keep in their garage. We kept them in the attic. The basement was a large circular area with cement floor which we used for roller skating. My younger brother was born literally 8 years after me. This completed my 1st decade, then we moved for one year only, to Michigan.
Fifth grade for me was spent in Michigan. My father took a leave of absence and worked for General Motors for a year. He moved the entire family, wife and 4 children by this time, to Michigan with him for one year. Fifth grade was a blast, I had my favorite teacher of all time, lots of friends, joined Girl Scouts, went camping, and lived next door to a tennis court. It was also the year President Kennedy was shot. I remember it very well.
The next year we left our Michigan home and returned to the same house we left in Indiana. However, by age 13, we were moving again. My father came home one day and said, “Well, where would you like to go, California, or Pennsylvania?” Little did we know, he was looking for a new position and took it from Drexel Institute of Technology, now Drexel University. We moved to a suburb of Philadelphia.
I again made friends, attended schools, living the first year in Germantown PA, and then another suburb. To make a long story short, my life there was drastically changed forever when my beloved father died unexpectedly of a heart attack at age 50. My mother, distraught and lost, moved us back to Indiana, the place she knew, the place where my father’s sister lived and my mother’s parents. I was 16.
By age 18, I was getting married. I met my husband, the man I am still married to now after 40 years. This decade ends with our wedding, two years at Ball State University, and his being drafted, another change which through our life goals into oblivion for a number of years. My husband had a deeply felt belief that this war was wrong. He applied for and received conscientious objector status. This meant you still got drafted, but served 2 years in a hospital or some other public service venue. In fact, it was the end of the Vietnam war and hardly anyone was being drafted anymore. But he was. And he was pulled out of college.
After his time of service was over, we moved back to our hometown looking for jobs and no longer in school. During this decade, our 20s, we began having kids. Our firstborn, a daughter, Jasmine, was born when I was age 24. My father’s mother died that same year. Our second, another daughter, Leah, was born 2 years and 3 mos. later. At the end of this decade, I was having our firstborn son, Jamal, at age 29. These years were filled with promise, filled with joy and discovery, and we were the poorest we’ve ever been our entire lives.
The decade of our 30s was the 1980s. Suffice it to say, the economy flopped. Bad. My husband lost middle management jobs more than once. We were managers of an apt. complex, then moved from there into “an old house we thought we would fix up”. It was an absolute wreck, and we lived there for the next 11 years. I had a miscarriage in 1984, then our fourth and last child was born, a second son, Levin. I was 32 years old for my last child’s birth. The boys were both born AT home, with midwives assisting. We’ve always looked for the natural child birth way, and see child birth as a natural life event that, in most cases if there are absolutely NO early warning signs, goes perfectly well. With 4 children and very little money, you don’t go out often, and it certainly would not have paid me to go to work. I was a stay at home mom for 11 years.
In 1995 we started a grocery store business that eventually also flopped. When our youngest was a year old, I went back to work part-time. This eventually became a full time job, at Purdue University Libraries. AL was working various management jobs and also became the high school soccer coach, turning it into a varsity sport and a VERY successful team. He manages youth well, they relate to him well, and he became a soccer coach as well as a father figure and life coach for them as well. We took in two kids as foster kids during these years, each one for a little over a year. The end of this decade has us both working and active in our community, still very poor.
Our 40s. I worked at the library for the next 16 years, actually spending enough time there to earn a little retirement check which they owe me for the rest of my life, by the time I quit. At some point, I went back to school. It was very easy for me to leave the library, attend a class, and return, staying later to make up time missed. Little did I know, this was the beginning of a back to school process that would just continue on until I completed a Phd, 10 years later! I finished my bachelor’s in 1996, at age 43.
That leaves my final decade of life, up to now. Our fifties. I completed my Master’s at age 47, took almost a year off and then returned to complete my PhD classes. In 2006-07, I felt free to take a one-year visiting professor position in northern Indiana. Looking back, this was not wise, because although it earned me the most income I’ve ever earned in a year up to that point, I did not finish my PhD as planned, and had to quit totally at the end of that year, not work, and just write. I sat down to the computer in April 2007 and wrote out the final chapters day after day after day. It is THE hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. People did not expect me to ever finish — except my family. Without my family’s support, I would not have finished. Students I had entered graduate school with had all left. Students who had come in AFTER me had left. My committee and major professor were wondering if I’d ever do it, and were losing faith in me finishing my goal. I knew this was it, I had to do it now, and I was not about to have come THIS FAR and not finish. So I knocked it out of the park. There were so many battles along the way I cannot even explain, but each one was overcome.
In the summer of ’08, I started applying for permanent teaching jobs. I got 3 interviews and 2 solid offers. I took the one that was tenure track. In Fall of ’08, we moved to another part of the country and I started my job. In October, I returned to Purdue to defend my Phd thesis. In Dec. 2008, on the coldest day of the year, I graduated. I got 4 tickets to the ceremony so my husband did not attend so that our four children would be there watching their mom. What a historic day.
Moving to the south away from my daughter and grand kids in Indiana, and son & his wife in WI, was SO difficult, I cannot begin to convey that. However, after looking for a job in Indiana and not finding one, you have to complete the dream and take a job in your field. And that is what I did. My husband was willing to follow me to my job. As of now we’ve been here 4 years and have 4 publications. The biggest heartache of my life is still being so far away from so much family. Our consolation is that one daughter & her family live also in the south. We now live in 5 different states, with each child in a different state and us in a 5th. We try to visit and take one vacation together per year.
In the middle of this 5th decade, in 2007 my mother died. To spend her last 5 days of life with her and watch the change along with my younger sister and brother, was a blessing that can never be taken away. Two years later, I was also blessed to be with my older brother when he passed.
I have to say, looking back, we have come a long way. I cannot imagine that I am close to living 6 decades. We raised 4 children and they each have a college degree. Two are working in the field they studied and two are not. We have four super grandchildren, 3 boys and 1 girl. Looking forward to the future. I see more grandchildren in my future. 🙂
my mother’s passing
June 26, 2012Five years ago on June 22, 2007, my mother’s spirit ascended from her body to heavenly worlds. That was a blessed week, to spend the last 5 days of her life with her, along with my younger brother and sister. And so much has happened since then, it feels like a lifetime ago.
June 2007 was prior to my finishing my PhD, prior to my interviewing and getting a tenure track job in South Carolina, prior to the birth of 2 of my grandchildren in North Carolina, prior to my husband following me to SC and experiencing southern culture. A lifetime ago.
Her last words were, “I love you all.” Whatever difficulties passed between my mother and I, she had a devout faith in God, and she loved all her children and grandchildren with all her heart. I remember her love. I remember her outstretched arms to embrace her oldest grandchild from her hospital bed. I remember her struggle at leaving us. I remember her child-like spirit. Her love for her cat, her car, and Purdue basketball. Let us all remember the very best about a person. I miss her.
New Orleans
March 28, 2012New Orleans
We watch him make a coin disappear
Into thin air,
The magician entertains us
Not in a fancy nightclub
Or at a show we bought a ticket for,
But on the street in Nawlins,
Where he earns his living
Collecting money in a hat,
A cop on motorcycle
Interrupts the show
Beeping his siren, clearing us away,
The magician, irritated,
Quickly wraps up,
reminds us to contribute,
he steps to the curb,
Where now appears
On the street where he was standing
A parade! – for no other reason than to celebrate Spring,
Strutters strut their stuff
While playing ragtime music
Marching past with drums and trumpets,
They wink as we catch the beat
start moving to the music,
while Kings and Queens and children
Hand out flowers to the crowd,
I collect my own colorful bouquet,
Some real, some imitation,
Then the band goes by, and we join the end of the line,
Climbing into the street,
we strut our own stuff
on the streets of New Orleans,
dancing, strutting,
we join the grand parade.
Cfblack 3-27-2012
Together for 40 years
March 17, 2012My husband and I have been friends and lovers for 40 years now. That is hard to imagine. We met in a church parking lot. After my father died at age 50, just after my 16th birthday, my mother moved us back to Indiana and we happened to join his family’s church, the United Church of Christ. I remember my image of him from that first meeting. He was tall and energetic, throwing his head back as he talked, and full of ideas. He kind of made my head spin. I was rather amazed he was talking to me and stood there and listened to him talk. He seemed rather “stuck up”. And he wanted to change the world.
We both became members of “Up With People,’ a national singing group organized locally, that supported the oneness of humankind. We sang songs like “If MORE people were FOR people, all people everywhere, there’d be a lot less people to worry about, and a lot more people who care…” It was hokey but positive. He first talked to my sister, who found him interesting as well, but then he talked with me on a long walk home from a group choir practice. I think our hearts were connected on that night but it was just the beginning. We had NO IDEA what we were in for!
I cannot begin in this post to tell our 40-year story. But what I know is, from that first night to today, his enthusiasm for causes and being involved has never faded. He has only matured in practice. I have had to learn to develop my own skills and interests, and we have both had to mature GREATLY, in order for our union to survive. We have managed to do that, only through the grace of God. We now have 4 adult children we are proud of, a daughter-in-law and son-in-law we love, and 4 absolutely AWESOME grandkids with more expected. We have the most solid friendship ever. It’s been a long, hard road, but we have reached the point of no return and now share the joyful memories of love over a lifetime.
memory of my mom
December 10, 2011I just had a memory/vision of my mom which made me briefly break down crying.
My mother was very child-like. She accepted whatever her pastor told her. She accepted what other women in her own Bible study told her, as if they knew more than her. In reality, her faith was larger than most of them in her later weeks, months, years of life. Her best friend once told her, “Marti, we won’t know each other when we die — we’ll be ANGELS!” And my poor mother accepted that. I personally think her friend was “dead wrong”. 🙂
My mother was also a recovering alcoholic. She learned that term in treatment. She almost died that week that my brother & sister drove her in. She learned that an alcoholic is always “recovering” and not “recovered”, and, like a child, she believed them when they told her, “If you take ONE DRINK, you’ll be RIGHT BACK WHERE YOU WERE when you came in here.” She was technically dead when she came in there. She knew that too, and believed that if she ever took ONE DRINK, she’d be right back at death’s doorstep. And so she never did take another drink and lived 22 years after leaving the facility.
She went to a live-in, residential treatment facility, without which I believe she never would have quit. It took her body a week to get sober. Then she started in on “treatment”. In the facility, they focused on acceptance and love. Acceptance for the condition they were in and their addiction, and complete forgiveness and love for the self. Addicts are inherently self-centered. The world revolves around their addiction and their next drink, and all else is secondary. Recovering addicts are the same. They have to be! The world revolves around their staying sober and all else is secondary. It is my belief that this self-centeredness carries over into every other aspect of their lives, which makes them damn hard to live with. But it makes them possible to have a relationship with. My kids would not have known their grandma if she had not quit drinking. When she stopped, they were just barely old enough to start seeing the alcohol, and I would have stopped taking them there. They would not know their grandma drunk. But she stopped, and that made a relationship possible, and is one that they cherish to this day.
In a hallway in the treatment facility, they had a little bell. Any time anyone wanted a hug, they could ring that little bell and stand there, and someone would come and give them a hug. Many times, visits with family members are restricted while they learn to deal with themselves and their addiction. My memory/vision of my mother is of her standing there in that hallway, by that little bell, and ringing it. She would do that. She told me about it. It just breaks my heart right now to think of her standing there in need of a hug. Sometimes I really miss my mom.
joyous news, such love
November 8, 2011Today my son and daughter-in-law put aside their fears of miscarriage. Baby is 10+ weeks and developing perfectly normally. Such joy, such love, such a tiny little one, who has no idea how much she is already loved and cherished.
I feel it is a girl. For all mine & all my grandkids so far, I’ve always been right, even before ultrasound days, & with my daughter who never wants to know until the birth. Usually I never guess this early, but this one has ALWAYS been girl. If it changes, then it changes. If I’m wrong, I’m wrong, it doesn’t matter. But this one is STRONG GIRL. That’s just how I feel.
hi Mommy hi Daddy
this precious life
October 14, 2011Recently, 2 things happened that made me once again realize the absolute preciousness of life. Every single life. First, we found out grandchild no.5 is on the way. How precious is that?? We are so excited! They had 2 ultrasounds and 3-4 blood tests for the doctors to tell them: normal baby developing as it should. Just smaller, younger than you thought it was! And so, we have a picture of this little one, this precious life. Welcome to the family, may you grow and grow and grow, can’t wait to see you!
isn’t life WONDERFUL??
baby grandchild
Now I am not a “right-to-lifer”. I find abortion absolutely appalling, however, I believe the mother carrying the child has to have the right to choose. I respect her right to make that decision. I just don’t see how you can FORCE any woman to carry a child she does not want to carry, plus there are too many questions still on the table for folks to know in any way except your own spiritual beliefs, when exactly that growing embryo is a human being with full protection of the law. I FEEL PERSONALLY it certainly is a human being. But I respect any woman’s right to make that choice, that decision, for herself.
Secondly, I saw “YOU DON’T KNOW JACK” a film about Jack Kevorkian’s crusade to assist people in their own suicide. I am still struggling to put into words on a page the internal thoughts & feelings about the sanctity of LIFE that arose from watching this film. To help with this, let me put some thoughts into the form of questions. Perhaps that is the best way:
- When someone has a debililtating, fatal disease, at what point, on what day, does their life become worthless?
- If it is a fatal disease, why not wait out a few more days and allow your loved ones to care for you? Maybe this is their task, maybe it is their calling, their joy. Is it your decision when to take yourself away from them? They will never see you again in this world.
- Suffering is a part of life, always. For some, it seems they receive way MORE than their fair share. Still, we all are susceptible to that. None of us CHOOSE to be the one to suffer the most. It is available to all, and could strike any one of us at any time. None of us are immune. There is no Superman or Superwoman. There is no Bionic Man. So whoever is suffering, in a way, is ALL of us, it is who we are, it is our humanity.
- When in the process of dying, should we choose to die, to take our own life away? We all will die, it comes to each and every one of us, and when it does, we must go through it alone. It is inescapable. There are no promised rose gardens, no guarantees in this life, in this world, when that time will come to any of us. It could be tomorrow, tonight. It could be 50 years away. None of us know. Why should we suddenly be able to decide the exact moment? What if we were to meet someone tomorrow and affect their life? How do we know? How can we be sure our time is up?
It is questions like these that struck me while watching each person in the film decide the moment they would die. I thought, “How selfish,” really. How presumptuous. Why not let life take its course? You know why? Because we want to die with DIGNITY. And this is oftentimes what is denied to us in hospitals, especially if we have INSURANCE to cover treatment! More treatments, more unnecessary surgeries, at the end of life, when we SHOULD be given time with our families, time to say good byes, time to somewhat adjust to our upcoming loss. Time to reflect, time to make ammends, time to forgive. So often we do NOT get that, because doctors do not even share WITH us what is happening!
Also, we don’t want to be a burden to our families. But perhaps this is part of our humanness as well — taking care of another human being, especially when they are HELPLESS and when they are suffering, because that is when they are in need. Do we really trust our families, our loved ones to love us enough to see us at our most vulnerable state? I think it is a matter of wanting to feel in control, and fearing loss of that control. Of course. I feel it too. But this is part of what we need to LEARN, while still breathing in this world — to fully and completely, totally trust another human being enough to have them take care of us, even when we can no longer take care of ourselves. Isn’t that what happens when people grow old? They become, once again, a child. They are more interested in playing and enjoying simple pleasures than worrying about this or that problem or event happening perhaps next week.
There is much more I could say and write, but I will close for now. I could talk about being with my mother the last 5 days of her life, or my brother for the last 3-4 days of his. I could talk about how the hospital told us we had to move our mother when she had less than 24 hours to live, and our refusal to do so, after which they found us a hospice space within the hospital. She was in no pain, they couldn’t do anything more “for” her so they wanted us to leave. I can’t imagine the horrific scene that would have been while she died in the process of trying to move her into a “rehabilitation center”. Thank God my brother had the common sense about him to look them straight in the eye and say, “Well, we’re not moving. So find us a room.”
We didn’t know at the time that she had less than a day to still be breathing. But we were starting to guess. They don’t confide in you, don’t tell you these things. And so, we were given that last night to be with her in her room, and she passed the next morning before we had a chance to eat breakfast.
So yes. We deserve to die with dignity. But I do not think taking one’s own life, or assisting others to do so, is what a physician should be about. My mother had a worsening heart condition. She could have decided herself that she was not going to get any better, and to end her own life sooner than it happened. But why do that?! She was very accepting in her later days. She accepted her condition, and spent time with her family as much as possible and just enjoyed her life at home. She prayed and studied her Bible as well. I feel happy for her to have this time. And she was there when her new little grandson came to visit from North Carolina and played in her living room, some of the last pictures I have of her smiling, with her oxygen tube in her nose in her own living room.
This is life! It is wonderful, it is great, and it lasts as long as it lasts. In each moment there is value, in each precious life.
Levin Thomas is born
August 27, 2011My youngest son was born today, 26 years ago. His name is Levin Thomas. But he was not named until the 3rd day of life. Each of our children has a unique name all their own. The first one’s first name starts with a “J”. The second one, an “L”. The 3rd one, again a “J”. It makes sense that this child, our 4th, should have a first name to start with an “L”. However, I had the name JOEL in mind. Joel Thomas. His father had the name Levin.
Levin, or Lev, is the friend of Anna Karinina who tells her story in the book by Leo Tolstoy. Levin is also Leo himself, put into the book. Levin means “Leo-like”. So he is named after Leo Tolstoy, and also my husband’s favorite literary character in any novel.
The middle name Thomas was my father’s middle name (John Thomas). It was also the name of a childhood friend of my husband’s, who died in a tragic accident. Thomas as a young boy was killed by a tractor tire his father had been working on, that suddenly flipped out and up, coming down on Thomas at about age 10. He was a good friend of my husband’s.
So Levin was born at home. When we say that in our hometown, people assume we mean “Home Hospital” one of the 2 main hospitals there at the time of his birth. That is not what we mean. We had a “home birth” with a midwife and a few friends and family around us. For Levin’s birth there was Molly Witt, who actually wrote a poem about the experience called “Peaceful Thomas”; Shirley Morris, a good friend who herself died in a car accident years later. These two milled about, cooking for everyone, helping with our other children, then ages 8, 5 & 3, and being very calm and peaceful themselves, that day. Their presence was much appreciated. My sister Sue got there. She was at our first home birth for our oldest son, Jamal. She came to this one, I remember, to stay a few days afterward. The midwife’s name was Sharon and she had one assistant.
I won’t put down all the details now but the labor took about 26 hours total. The first part was mild and I couldn’t imagine we would be holding our new baby within a day. It is always hard to imagine, the baby will really be here within a few hours. I was 32. It was our lowest time ever, financially, during those years soon after Levin’s birth. Downsizing of managerial jobs hit us hard. I was a stay-at-home mom & had been home with my kids for 10 years. I stayed home one more year with Levin, then went back to work.
Where is he now, you ask? He is a newspaper reporter in an oil boom town in northern North Dakota, making use of his telecommunications and journalism degree from Ball State University. Still single, he has lived in Indiana, New Orleans, South Carolina and now North Dakota. He has a very strong personality, like his father. The word “headstrong” has multiple meanings. Being strong in the head may also mean being smart, with a natural propensity to analyze every situation. That’s our son alright.
Doctor Grandma 