Doctor Grandma

this is it

March 17, 2010

Just watched Michael Jackson’s “This is it.” His spirit is felt throughout the film. He was a tremendous, irreplaceable artist, phenomenal. His gentleness is evident all through the film as well, never raising his voice but knowing exactly what he wants and insisting on it. Repeating instructions for exact movements and moments for the music to enter.

He didn’t really appear to be in good health. Incredible skinny. Partly because he was rehearsing and saving the ultimate performance for the show, he never really moved like you wanted him to. A lot of walking across the stage to the beat of the music. But part of me wonders how much was his age, and how much was his drug addiction and just plain poor health. He looked anorexic, to say the least.

I appreciate his loving spirit, which we need more of in the world. He was incredibly nieve. However, I also think it was not his time to go. He should still be here. And though a doctor may go down for his untimely death, a lot of the blame is on Michael’s shoulders. He had to know he was addicted. And he continued to the end requesting meds he knew could do him in. He had to have known that. A figure like Michael is hard to refuse. As a doctor, he had the obligation to say “no” and to not prescribe some obviously life-endangering combination. But Michael also knew. He was on stuff for years, and made comments even to Priscilla about it years and years previous. It angers me that people stay addicted to substances and take no responsibility for their condition.

We miss you greatly, Michael. Your children need you and you should still be here with them. I am sure your loving spirit will love them and guide them through their lives.

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15th day of the fast

March 16, 2010

15th day of the Baha’i month of the fast, where we do not eat or drink from sunrise to sundown.

For me, it often happens that I take one drink at mid-morning, then make it through the rest of the day. By the end of the day, truly, your body has grown used to the feeling of hunger. It’s not “hunger pains” anymore, but just that your brain has trouble thinking. Focusing is not happening anymore. Your mind wanders, and just feels tired.

One of the purposes of the fast is to connect to the rest of the world, in the sense that in reality, a WHOLE LOT of the world’s population goes to bed hungry. This is hard for us to remember, in America. 2/3 of the world lives on something comparable to $2.00/day. Worrying about children surviving, or dying of malnutrition or simple diarrhea which could be stopped with a simple teaspoon full of medicine that the developed, industrial-based world has readily available to them. We saw just a hint of this in the Hurricane Katrina disaster, where people holed up in the SUPERDOME, of all places, had babies and old people dying for lack of WATER! It was unimaginable. Especially here in America. But it happened.

Baha’u’llah says, “Tell the rich of the midnight sighing of the poor. . . ” one of my favorite lines in His writings.

Tell the rich

of the midnight sighing

of the poor.

Why would the poor be sighing at midnight?? Shouldn’t they be asleep? Perhaps they are hungry.

Late in the day, when I truly fast, my fingers are stone cold. It’s like your system is partly shut down. Circulation slows, the brain is muddled, yet you can go through your day. You can make it, it’s just not the easiest thing.

And for us, we think of the suffering of Baha’u’llah, and of the Holy Ones, and our intensity of love deepens. To be close to Him is our longing and desire. Such a sweet soul, One who endured the taunting and cruelty of the world with supreme grace, “the everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace”.

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family

March 14, 2010

I am thinking this morning, of family. What does it mean, exactly. What does it mean to a family that was never really close, or were close so long ago it is hard to remember?

I think it means, connections. Mannerisms shared that you don’t even realize. Genetics and traits. Words and phrases passed on that you never consciously chose. Closeness in a way that is unexplainable.

It means who you are, in ways that no one else can pass on to you. Ancestors shared, memories mapped onto your DNA molecules, grandparents, great-grandparents and great-great-great grandparents traveling from somewhere to here, in you and yours. Life stories of hardships, immigrant status, and a sense of belonging. It means cousins, aunts and uncles, and their stories as well.

Even if you don’t know their stories, and don’t remember who they are, even if you DO know who they are and never liked them, they are there, a part of your history, a part of your own self, whoever you are.

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wedding 38 yrs ago

March 6, 2010

Not taking the time to write a long entry on this now, but 2 days ago was our 38th wedding anniversary. Even writing that down, it sounds ridiculous. How can this be true?

We married at ages 18 & 19. We’ve had some serious, difficult times, but I think our true friendship always saved us. We are each very independent in our own ways, with our own interests, but we have each given up a lot for the other. And our mutual faith unites us. We are both Bahai’s. Our kids have also all turned out to be good people, and we are close with all of them, so that adds to an older couple’s mutual respect and happiness. They all have their problems, but so do we. No one is on drugs, no one needs an “intervention” 🙂 nothing like that. It’s all good.

Some memories of our wedding: I wore a white gown my mother-in-law made, empire waist, and alternating rows of pink & yellow rose buds around the bottom. It was my own little rebellion to not wear a completely white dress. That’s my style: not following the norm, but not a total revolution by any means. Al wore a plain brown suit and put a daisy in his lapel rather than the booteneir he was supposed to wear. We had friends and family read from Kahlil Gibran’s “The Prophet”, Al’s dad said a prayer. The wedding took place at 7 or 7:30 at night, I can’t remember which. We had candle light. Church wedding, but we signed our membership cards to join the Baha’i Faith at our wedding reception. We planned it that way.

We had a short reception in the church basement, then went to my mom’s house to open a few gifts, then took off. March 4th, 1972.

We were very young, nieve, unwise, without life experience in many ways, but we were so ecstatic to be together. We went to an old hotel for one night, out on 52 & 28, then went to Muncie, where AL went to work at Krogers on Monday. I knew how to get from the hotel in Muncie where we stayed for a week, to his Krogers store. Boy, were we YOUNG and stupid! We were both in school. He later got drafted and that ended his college career. Hard times postponed my finishing college for about 25 years.

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change is in the air

March 6, 2010

So last night, our youngest came back home to live with us for awhile. He wants to apply to jobs in his field without having the stress of constantly working at a dead-end job and paying bills.

He will really be in culture shock for awhile, coming to this rural setting from NEW ORLEANS, of all places! There are no trolleys here. There are no jobs to get to without a car. We are enclosed in a family-centered neighborhood of new, modern houses with a lot of children and dogs, a shared swimming pool, a neighborhood association, and a large pond. But outside of that, we are surrounded by country roads and woods. “Town” is 3-4 miles away. The one MALL with every store you can imagine is about 14 miles distance from us. “City” is 25 miles. This will be interesting.

Not to mention, we still do not have a dining room table, or a BED and other furniture in his new room! We ain’t got zip at this time! We’ve been traveling too much to buy things we need. Going home to see kids, grandkids and parents in Indiana every 2 mos., going to New Orleans twice, it’s been hectic. Every break we are going somewhere. My college has not yet paid me for our trip to New Orleans where I attended a conference, so we are low on cash.

He’s been living in a place where walking to a nearby city and riding a trolley everywhere he goes is everyday, and eating fast food, if not gumbo and fresh seafood daily. This change will be a shock for him.

Today’s high will be upper 60s. Bright sunshine. Things are starting to bud and burst into bloom. My campus will soon be BRIGHT with red and white azaleas, absolutely the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Change is in the air.

— A side note, the one thing I can’t stand about this neighborhood, are stupid, barking dogs.

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4th day of the fast

March 5, 2010

4th day of the Baha’i fast. This is a time we do not eat or drink from sunrise to sundown, for one Baha’i month, or 19 days, March 2nd to the 20th. Then March 21st is our New Year.

To learn more of the Baha’i Faith, go to: www.bahai.org

It is a wonderful faith that teaches uniting the peoples of the world into one common cause, one universal faith under one God.

So it is this time of day, when there is only one hour left, that it surprises me the day of fasting is almost over. I am not distraught. My body is not breaking down. And I can still think. It really is not that hard. You have to be careful to drink water at night, and eat well for dinner and breakfast. It’s a powerful exercise in obedience, doing without thing you think you need, and giving up something for God. You think about your faith all day long. (Why am I doing this?? What is the purpose of all this?? etc.)

The Muslims have a 30-day fast, the Christians give up something for Lent, Jews have certain days when they fast. It’s familiar in all cultures, all faiths, to a certain extent. People sick, younger than 15, older than 70, pregnant, women in their cycles, people traveling more than 9 hours, do not fast. 19 days is just right. And I would NEVER accomplish it if it were not required for my faith. And whether or not I fully fast is totally up to me, no one is watching me to report if I break the fast.

Happy fasting everyone.

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toward the end of the day of fasting

March 3, 2010

Toward the end of the day,

it doesn’t matter anymore,

The hunger is there,

but the agony is past,

the head slightly foggy,

the throat so dry,

the burning relentless, and powerful,

It all becomes a part of you.

Then we fill our stomachs,

and quench the thirst,

and some measure of sweetness

disappears,

no more constant reminder

is left for us,

of the sufferings our Lord endured,

There is only sleep

until we awake

to another sunrise, another day,

and the fast begins again.

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I am (my ancestors)

February 28, 2010

I am (my ancestors),

They are carried deep within,

Embedded in my memory

are all the places they have been.

I am – my grandfather

reciting the Lord’s prayer,

in his low and formal voice,

with his head bowed low,

I am – his courage,

hiding behind those German lines,

on a secret frightful mission

trying to make it back home,

I am – poor Dutch farmers,

moving south from Chicago,

selling vegetables in the summer time,

and trying to get by,

I am immigrant, I am Hollander,

sailing here with hopes and dreams,

I am 17-year-old great-grandmother,

on a ship from the old country,

I am also Scotch-Irish,

or English as the case may be,

migrating westward from Ohio

to the southern hills of Indiana,

I work for the Monon railroad,

working hard for my family,

move them a little farther north,

follow the tracks to industry,

I am poor boy in the north end,

studying hard for my degree,

first one ever to go that far,

first one to earn a PhD,

I am farmer, railroad worker,

car mechanic, security guard,

domestic worker, church janitor,

painter and professor,

I am — all of these and more,

they are a part of me,

Stories of struggle embedded in my bones,

DNA memories mapped onto my own.

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I am my ancestors

February 28, 2010

Went to a Book Fair in downtown Columbia today, w/ my hubby. Listened to poets read their own work, & got inspired to try to write something. Also heard an excellent session by women from USC who collaborated on a 3 vol. series on Women of South Carolina.

Both of these sessions got me to thinking, & to connect the dots between the two, who are we really? People from South Carolina take such pride in being that. It’s like, you’re from here, or you’re from the rest of the world. To be in the “club” you got to be from here for at least 3-4 generations. Though so-called educated folks like to think they are above and beyond that, they do the same thing. It is fine to be proud of your roots, to write a book on women who contributed to whatever is South Carolina today, because their stories are left out of the history books. We have to write “her-story” because they are left out of his-tory. And I was fascinated with what I learned.

But there is more to my thought.

People speak of their ancestors. It is good to know who you are, where you are from. We are all connected to those before us. There are some who believe we have some sort of memories embedded in our DNA, so to speak, which are connected to generations past. For example, I may be drawn to water because my ancestors lived near the sea, and not have any understanding of that in a conscious way. It is an interesting idea.

But most of us don’t know much about our ancestors other than 2-3 generations back at the most. So my thought is to write a poem that expresses connections to those I consciously knew, or knew through stories that have been told by someone I knew. And that will be my next post.

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parties

February 27, 2010

This time in the Baha’i Faith calendar, Feb. 26-March 1st, is a time for “charity, hospitality and the giving of presents”.

Today Al & I went to 2 Ayyam-i-Ha parties. The first one was one hour north. When we lived in Newberry, we were in that cluster. Most of them live near Laurens, which is 45 mins. north of Newberry. There, we were 2 out of 6 or 7 Bahai’s in a 3-county area. One of those couples has now moved to Texas. One new person has moved into that cluster, and there are 2 women who live nearby, so they come to gatherings of this group. They are a wonderful, fun and interracial group. We had a long discussion about racism in the 50s compared to today, and tried to think of more unrecognized African Americans for Julian to add to his Black history game he is making for children. We came up with some inventors, Thomas Edison’s sidekick, the one who invented the filament for the light bulb, the inventor of the 3-way traffic light, Matthew Henson who went with Admiral Peary to the North Pole and without whose aid Peary would not have survived. There was a famous football coach Al knows about, named Fritz something, who was also the most decorated WWII hero, something like that. We ate lunch and played a game. The game was about how to survive all these various things, like what’s the best way to survive quick sand (put a stick under your hips and float out on your back?) — and Al played Aziz a game of chess. (Al won last year, Aziz won this year.)

Then we drove down PAST our home, to Columbia’s celebration. There must have been 50 people at their Baha’i Center. It was packed. About 10 little girls running around, and 2 boys. The children were hosting the event. They said memorized prayers, sang the calendar song (at my suggestion, thank you very much), and one young boy played a Persian song on clarinet. Then they passed out cupcakes they had made & decorated. The rest of the time they chased each other around the Center.

We are starting to know the friends here. There are a few Persians, mostly older people who don’t speak English well. Not too many but some African American believers and families. Lots of rural South Carolina folks, some from the “city”– Columbia, & a few internationals. Most people here are from the south. Some of the folks from little bergs who never come to the city, do so for these special holidays. We are about 15 miles north of this main community. (Still basically isolated ourselves.)

I came home, had a cup of Rooibos red tea (not as good as cherry but it’s okay) and we are going to bed. Tomorrow Al wants to attend a book fair where they are having some people read some of their work.

Note: our daughter was moving to a new place today, back on the school bus route, closer to town. We hope she hears she has a job Monday.

OH– I dreamed last night we took in a little boy named Toby. No idea why. But I am often with children in my dreams. Lots and lots.

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