A Work in Progress

Grief Relief

Sometime in the next week, a plate filled with home-made chocolate brownies will appear on my front porch. There may or may not be a note, but it won’t matter. I know the identity of the baker.  My neighbor, who drove me to the Emergency Room 12 years ago when my husband suffered a fatal arrhythmia here at home, leaves this gift each May to let me know that she remembers.  Sometimes I carry the plate down to her home to share the brownies and some conversation, and sometimes I choose to reminisce privately.

In a recent conversation, a friend asked me specifically whether she should reach out to a dear friend on the “anniversary” of her mom’s passing.  She confessed to being unsure, and didn’t want to do the wrong thing by either reaching out or not reaching out.  I thought about it a bit. As I just shared, there are times when someone reaching out to me is more welcome than others.

Comforting someone in grief, it seems, can be as individual a journey as experiencing grief.

So, how do you help someone who is grieving?  I’ll try to avoid using the word “don’t” and focus more on the “do” list.

• DO continue to speak about the person who has passed. Use his/her name in general conversation, as you always have.
• Following a similar theme, DO share a personal story/memory.  Whether you are sharing in person or incorporate it into a sympathy note/card:  “I’m so sorry and I don’t know what to say, but I remember when X...”  These are priceless gifts to those who grieve.  Notes with shared memories are welcome on “anniversaries” too.
• DO realize there are no rules for grieving and there is no timetable.
• If you can be the person to whom the grieving person can turn to tell their story over and over, please DO it. It is not easy, and not everyone is able to give this kind of support, but it can be a lifeline.
• DO ask to help in specific ways; “I would like to bring dinner on Tuesday”, “I would really like to have the kids over my house to play on Friday”, “Let’s get together for coffee on Monday” are offers that are so much easier for a grieving person to accept rather than “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
• DO touch!  Especially if the grieving person is a “hugger” – there are times when a touch can provide some comfort when mere words cannot.
• DO realize that a loss carries forward into the future, as the grieving person faces the fact that dreams and plans may go unfulfilled, or become altered.

So, how did I answer my friend when she asked about reaching out to someone on the anniversary of a loss? I gave her this "DO" list, and a recipe for homemade brownies.

Mother's Day Gifts

I find the ads preceding a holiday to be particularly distasteful.  “If you really loved Mom, then you’d buy her this wonderful necklace or this new-style charm bracelet (does anyone ELSE think some of those new bracelets are clunky and just a touch ugly?”) But, the overall message is the same: you have to spend money to show Mom that she is
important – send flowers, buy jewelry, take her to dinner.

I still have the handmade wall-hanging with the imprints of painted little hands, and the mini-terrarium made from an upside-down baby jar with a little plastic rose inside.  As my sons got older, I regularly received a hand-made sign for my bedroom door (I always made one for their doors on their birthdays), and several gifts of letters filled with an extensive discussion of why I was such a great mom.  Over the years, creativity increased – and although those letters always included loving messages to me, they would take a humorous stab at the antics of whichever brother was not that letter’s author. Treasured gifts – all.

I’m a huge proponent of sharing feelings and gifts on any particular day of the year, not being driven by a randomly chosen day that appears to exist now as much for the economy as anything else. So, as I’ve watched the never-ending series of ads lately, I’ve thought about all the other gifts I’ve already received in my role as Mom:

• Those moments at 3 in the morning, when the rest of the world is seemingly asleep, and you have that one-on-one time with a hungry newborn;


• The sleepy toddler’s head that settles on your shoulder at the end of a long day, secure in the knowledge that he is safe in his mother’s arms;


• Feeling for the toe during a shoe-shopping trip, and realizing it doesn’t tell you what you really want to know (how fast their feet will grow in the next 2 months!);


• A son’s willingness to listen to one of my “teachable moment” stories just ONE MORE TIME;


• Moments when 2 boys, a mom and a full-grown border collie make a queen sized bed feel very small while watching for the local school’s name to come across the "closed school television crawl" during a snowstorm;


• That look of half-joy/half-terror when your son shifts the car into gear during your first driving lesson;


• The experience of accompanying a strikingly handsome band member as you both are acknowledged during the Senior Band Member Night football game in the pouring rain (somehow it ALWAYS rains on Senior Night);


• The image of a confident young man walking away from you after that last hug when you drop him off at college for the first time, and you are the only one that’s crying;


• The phone calls, g-chats and facebook chats that happen on a regular basis, helping you to still feel needed and loved.

Treasured gifts – all.

Dizzy Yet?

The spin from last week’s government “near-shutdown” will make those with even the most stable constitution a bit queasy.  It’s now several days after the big “deal” and it is only this morning that any actual details are available.  In the meantime, the only thing the main-scream media wants to talk about is who “won” – Obama, the Republicans, the Tea Party? On most lists, there is no spot for the American people.

So, how did we lose our place at the table?

It’s not unlike the times you attend a wedding and excuse yourself from the table to go see Aunt Martha, who you haven’t seen in years. Upon returning to the table, someone else is in your spot and gives no indication they are interested in relinquishing the seat. As a matter of fact, they pretty much ignore the fact that you are even standing there, waiting to be acknowledged.

How do we reclaim our seat?  We pull up a chair, squeeze in wherever there’s a spot, take a moment to understand what’s being said at the table, and then participate in the conversation.   We don’t need to shout, we don’t need to demean those with other opinions, and we certainly don’t need to lie.

At the height of the government stoppage frenzy last week, Arizona Senator Jon Kyl (R) sought support for his stand on cutting funding to Planned Parenthood with this statement on the Senate floor:

But you don't have to go Planned Parenthood to get your cholesterol or your blood pressure checked. If you want an abortion, you go to Planned Parenthood. And that's well over 90 percent of what Planned Parenthood does.

Can Senators just make up numbers that constitute more or less the opposite of the truth? Well, yes, they can. Lies are told all the time, and usually go uncontested. When standing in front of a microphone, those in the public eye are speaking for the sound bites the media will use. Sometimes the lie-tellers are challenged and corrected, but by that time, many have adopted the lie as truth.  In this case, when challenged, Kyl’s office claimed the comment was not meant to be “factual”…

…his remark was not intended to be a factual statement, but rather to illustrate that Planned Parenthood, a[n] organization that receives millions of dollars in taxpayer funding, does subsidize abortions.

In the meantime, how many heard the first remark, but didn’t (or didn’t want to) hear the clarifying statement?  Elected officials are counting on the public to NOT find the time to fully understand what’s being said and done in their name.

Were the American people in last week’s conversation at all?  Absolutely! Like clockwork, politicians from both parties appeared regularly in front of microphones and cameras to state that they were “standing for the American people” as they sought support for their actions.  Well, it’s time for the American people to stand for themselves.  That means taking the time to understand the issues. That means accepting that the person next to you may not agree with you on all issues. That means RESPECTING that the person next to you may not agree with you on all issues.

Politically, I consider myself as an independent – in that I may find myself in agreement with one political party on one issue, while agreeing with an opposing party on another issue – and am capable of thinking independently on any issue.  There is no one party that is going to represent all my views, and I shouldn’t have to give up one of my beliefs just to belong somewhere. I am the “Emily” party. I encourage you to create your own political party, with party planks supporting all the beliefs that are important to you.

And, when you are done catching up with Aunt Martha, come join me. I have a seat saved for you.

A Walk on the Beach

The day is clearly more than half over, as I turn around and consider the various trails of footprints stretching out behind me. I can identify the path that leads to the very spot where I stand. I’ve always embraced the mental imagery of the Christian poem “Footprints in the Sand.” So, as I approach one of the more difficult times of the year (leading up to the anniversary of my husband’s death), I find myself considering the path I’ve walked, and the times when that journey has felt particularly solitary.

I can picture the shadowy images of those who once walked along with me and now are gone. Certainly the footprints of the one I hold most dear ended abruptly and far sooner than I ever could have imagined. Yes, my steps seem to have faltered there, strides shorter and prints deeper as I considered the new challenges ahead. I laughingly tell my sons that I have shrunk an inch (or more) in the last several years because of the downward pressure of the weight of the world on my shoulders. I credit those same young men for walking with me through the toughest of times. (And yes, I can identify THEIR footprints clearly. You don’t grow to heights exceeding 6’4” without growing feet to match!) It’s exciting to see their path has separated from mine a bit, striding confidently in the direction of their own adventures.

Truth be told, though, the footprints don’t lie. We may walk life’s path alone. But, during the most challenging of times, I suspect you will find, as I have, that others in your life walk alongside on a path that is just a bit closer to yours, providing a listening ear, and a shoulder to lean on. One of the most powerful parts of the grieving process is when you realize you are now healed enough to offer that listening ear and supportive shoulder to someone else.

Straightening my shoulders, I feel just a little more prepared to turn and take the next step forward. Ahead of me, the sand is untouched, waiting for me to continue.

Won't You Consider a Career in Modeling?

When I looked up, there was a 6’5” furry, red Elmo, a guy in a duck suit, a man-size Gumby, and someone totally encompassed head-to-toe in bright blue spandex.

No, this isn’t the set-up to a funny story or a confusing dream I had.  This is just a sampling of the fans at Marietta’s opening game of the OAC Tournament last night. People-watching was fun – the row of guys who spelled out M-A-R-I-T-T-A on their bare chests with paint, anxiously waiting for the “E” to show up; the guys in Marietta football shirts who stood along the rail at the elevated walkway above the court at one end, appearing to all the world as if they were just “happening by” the big game and stopped to watch; and the townspeople of Marietta who came out to support these college kids in full force.  The row of elderly gentlemen to the left of me leaned over and asked me “who my player was.” After I basked in the reflected glory of being the aunt of one of the starters, I returned the question to them, “Who is your player?” They sat back with huge smiles – and proudly said, “Well, all these boys are our players.”

The outcome of the game was still in question when a Marietta player stood at the opposite sideline waiting to inbound the ball.  A few steps behind him stood a middle-aged guy with an adorable little boy wearing bright yellow boots.  Well, the little boy must have said something to the player.  The Marietta player turned and smiled and gave this little boy a high-five before turning back to refocus and inbound the ball.  I didn’t see the rest of the play, because I was struck by the expression on the face of this little boy – he was absolutely beaming.  Following the Marietta victory (yay guys!!), the players stayed out on the court, each surrounded by their own little group of fans and well-wishers.  Time after time, players were interrupted by moms and dads with young kids, and by seniors who just wanted a quick word or two – to a man, I saw these young players graciously accept the interruptions, reach out to shake hands and greet the elders, crouch down next to the youngsters.  Young and old, I saw the same beaming expression on the faces of these fans after interacting with the players. And, I heard parents tell their youngsters, “When you’re older and go to college, maybe you can play basketball too.” And, I realized just how important these little moments can be, like drops into a puddle, expanding to make a huge impact on these kids, parents and seniors... now, and in the future.

Years ago, when I chaperoned local parades with my sons’ marching band, I found myself regularly telling the students to steal a glance at the faces of the children standing along the route.  The younger ones looked at these band kids as if they were gods, and I could hear parents telling their children that “someday they could play in the band” and then ask them what instrument they might like to study.  If you’ve explored colleges with your kids, you’ve been introduced to current successful students – college kids who are generally approachable, welcoming and friendly.  You tend to remember those colleges most favorably where the students you met treated you politely and with respect.

There’s a Liberty Mutual Insurance ad that I’ve seen recently that I really like that goes along with this thought of modeling kindness and inspiration. It first shows a mother pushing a child in a stroller. The child drops a toy and a man walking by picks it up and hands it back to the child, and the mother looks grateful. In the next scene the same mother is walking out of a coffee shop and when she sees a coffee cup perched precariously on the edge of a table, she quietly pushes the cup away from the edge. Someone happens to see that act and offers a hand to a man who has fallen. And so on and so on. As someone sees an act of kindness, they are inspired to act kindly to another. Now I know it’s an ad for an insurance company, but I still like the thought. And what I like about it is that it reminds us to do the right thing – to walk the talk – and that when we take that opportunity to be a model for others, it impacts the person right in front of us, and inspires them to model good things for others, and so on and so on.

You CAN be a model on the runway of your life. And you can create a ripple that will affect others in ways you cannot imagine.

Can Love be Calculated in Dog Years?

There is something about looking into the face of an aging dog that gives you a sense that there is gentle wisdom and understanding behind those soulful eyes. Of course, you do have to make yourself forget that this is the same animal that greets others by sniffing in some “personal areas” and has been known to roll around in deer feces and possibly eat a thing or two that should not be digested!  Nevertheless, I look down at the graying muzzle of the 13-year old border collie at my feet, and I celebrate all the things he has brought to my life.  Today is Rusty’s birthday!

It’s been a tough week for dog lovers in Ohio.  Late last week, a tip from a neighbor regarding a foul odor led humane officers in Medina Township to a rather small family home that was housing 119 puppies.  A mother and daughter team will likely face animal cruelty charges after their attempt at breeding got a bit out of hand (ya think?!).

I stopped short of calling to volunteer my time at the Medina shelter which is understandably feeling overwhelmed by this sudden turn of events.  I knew if I stepped foot in that shelter – I would walk back out with at least one dog.  I’ll send a donation instead!  But, I’d been thinking a lot about Rusty’s birthday anyway and while looking at the adorable faces being shown on the local evening news as an enticement, I thought back to those first puppy days. I would never have guessed how important Rusty would become to me.  
 
Rusty was supposed to be the “family” dog.  My late husband had a border collie growing up, and in his mind, that was the ONLY breed to have. I made us wait until I was ready to take care of a dog – I’m not stupid. I knew the dog’s care would eventually fall to me.  I never realized how quickly that would happen.  After our very first dog training session, all 3 “boys” (my husband and C and A) decided it would be far less confusing for this puppy if only one person were taking him to the classes.  [By the way– at the very first class, it became obvious that the dog training is not for the dog but for the OWNER!] Somehow, these 3 managed to be surprised when, after just a few weeks, it was obvious that puppy Rusty had become very attached to ME.  Hmm –I was feeder, trainer, exerciser, and groomer, and this is supposed to be one of the smartest dogs on earth.  Of COURSE he would become attached to me!

When my husband died suddenly almost 12 years ago, I remember thinking “you’ve left me with 2 young boys and a PUPPY! YOU wanted this puppy and where are you NOW?!”   I don’t remember much from those early grief-stricken days, but I do remember times when I would sit on our front porch and just cry by myself… well, sort of by myself.  Rusty was never far from me (just as he is not far from me now). And although I know the saltiness of my tears was the real reason he snuggled and licked my face, it was still very comforting to have someone notice and let me know I was not alone.  Since then, he has been such a part of our family, and several neighbors kids and young relatives consider him to be their dog as well.  With both sons off on their college adventures, I suspect they feel better knowing that I’ve got Rusty (and our younger adopted border mix rescue) with me.  There is still someone to talk to (although my sons tell me that Rusty is losing his hearing as a protective measure against all my chatting) and someone who takes his job very seriously—to look out for me.

I know I have waxed rhapsodic over my dog, and for those who are not dog-lovers, you probably think I’m nuts!   I just know that I am so grateful to have been adopted by this lovely and loving border collie who celebrates his birthday today. And, as one of the bigger tributes to Rusty that I can think of, practically all my nieces, nephews and younger acquaintances will tell me that they plan to have a border collie when they grow up.

Eighteen Days

A self-proclaimed CNN junkie, the last week or so of watching the events in Egypt has been fascinating for me.   Beyond the platitudes and well-spun phrases of “history unfolding” – this has just been the most amazing demonstration of what can be done when everyday people are willing to stand up for what they believe is right.

Eighteen days?  Really!? I don’t do things I LIKE for eighteen days!  I look at the makeshift town that had grown in the center of Tahrir Square, where tents, medical areas and public restrooms had been hastily constructed.  I’ve got to tell you, I consider myself to be a strong person, but I’m not sure I could have taken those conditions, especially when the outcome was so much in question.  I’m one of those people who thinks that “roughing it” is spending a night in a Holiday Inn with no room service. The people in the square have redefined courage for me.

I am fortunate that I was born in this country…  this imperfect collection of peoples and cultures, ideas and traditions.  As an American who has known basic freedoms for my entire life, I cannot imagine an existence where those who were critical of the president regularly “disappeared”, where the government declared a state of emergency, thereby granting itself the right to imprison individuals for any period of time and for virtually no reason, and where they could hold people with no obligation to hold a trial.

Yes, there are certainly challenges within our republic, and I am sure there are those in the United States whose life experiences have been different than mine.   But, as the public discourse on the future of America continues, let’s remember that freedom is a precious gift and a right for all citizens. Let’s encourage each other to speak their own personal truths, while listening openly to the truths spoken by others.  In our own remarkable history, many have fought and died for those freedoms which many of us, quite honestly, often take for granted.

Eighteen days.  Eighteen days during which the Egyptian protesters’ commitment to peaceful demonstration could have so easily been abandoned.  Eighteen days that followed thirty years of enduring an existence many in the United States could not even imagine.  Eighteen days of standing up for what they think is right.  Eighteen days to change a country….  and, quite possibly, the world.

The Super Bowl Through the Eyes of a Bitter Cleveland (Browns, Indians, Cavs) Fan

Red Right 88 (Browns)

The Drive (Browns)

The Fumble (Browns)

The Shot (Cavs)

Jose Mesa (Indians)

The Decision (Cavs)

Such short phrases – encompassing such great sports agony.  You realize you’re old when you were alive for all of these. If you are a younger Cleveland fan, you are no doubt aware of these anyway as the entire list is revisited every time a sports show needs an example of defeat being snatched from the jaws of victory.

We are the sports city that is perennially waiting to take that “next step.”  And, then when we do, we invariably step in “#%&@”.   Just last night – the Cavs set the dubious record for most consecutive losses in a single season. Sigh.

And, so, like the starving child with their face pressed against the glass outside an all-you-can-eat buffet, we Cleveland fans will watch our rivals, the Pittsburgh Steelers, head back to the food line for their 7^th helping.

Am I bitter? Yes, I guess I am.  But my bitterness stems more from how the Cleveland sports scene is used as an excuse to make uninformed, ignorant comments about the Cleveland community.   I live near a city which has been struggling since before I can remember.  Like many areas that relied on the steel industry, Cleveland faces the challenge of redefining itself in a landscape ever-changing with each new technological discovery.  To some, our torturous sports history is synonymous with the ups-and-downs of the Cleveland economy. I guess I can accept that.  But, where I see the resiliency of a community whose spirit endures despite each challenge that comes our way, others feel the need to ridicule continued attempts as futile.

So, when we talk about sports, let’s stay on the topic shall we?  No more cheap shots please.

The Cleveland sports fan is just as deserving as those waving the Terrible Towels and those wearing triangular Cheese-hats. And so, at some point in time today, I will feel some empathy for the fans of whichever team loses (yes, even Steeler fans).  And, I will share with them the eternal mantra of the Cleveland sports fan: Wait until next year!

Won't You Be My Valentine?

A link in this morning’s electronic edition of the local newspaper caught my eye. It read: “Are you dreading Valentine’s Day?”  Apparently the staff is seeking comments from “unattached people about how they cope with the holiday.”

Wow – this made it sound like being unattached was…  a disease, or at the very least, a condition requiring a support group.

Yes, I know --- even Wikipedia defines Valentine’s Day as a holiday celebrating love and affection between intimate companions.  I would like to challenge you to look beyond this rather short-sighted notion that Valentine’s Day is only for couples. I’m certainly not suggesting that you skip the celebration of romance and love with that special someone in your life.  That could get some of you into trouble! J But, why can’t Valentine’s Day be more of a celebration of ALL the special people in our lives?

My freshman year of college, on one of those bleak, wintry evenings of early February, there was a knock on our outer suite door. (Our dorm had suites of 6 students who each had their own teeny, tiny bedroom and shared a small common area and bathroom.)  We gals were invited to sit in our common area for a surprise.  A group of 10-12 guys from other suites in our dorm soon trooped in. There was the quick sound of a pitch pipe, and…  these guys broke into a very sweet 4-part harmony rendition of “Let Me Call You Sweetheart.” They looked rather sheepish at times, they missed a few notes, and it was wonderful.  I’ve never forgotten it.  The next year (when I happened to be dating the organizer of this chorus, so I was no longer one of those “unattached” persons), I think it made an even larger impact on me. As the guys sang, I could feel the dynamics in the room change. This was no longer a room of dating “haves” and “have nots”. This was a roomful of friends.

There is no reason that Valentine’s Day can't be a day to celebrate all the special people in our lives.

And, for that matter, there’s no reason that acknowledging people who are important to us has to be limited to just one time of year.  As my sons were growing up, it was not unusual for me to randomly pick up a little treat (a favorite candy bar, pack of pokemon cards, goofy looking pencils, SOMETHING that said I had been thinking of them) and leave it on their pillow, computer keyboard, or just on one of the stairs heading up to their bedrooms with a note that said “Happy Friday (Monday, Thursday, etc.)”. It was such a simple way to share some positive energy with two of the most important people in my life. Just like the Valentine serenade, I could feel the dynamics of the day change.

EVERY day is a good day to tell someone they are important to you. You don’t have to wait until Valentine’s Day and you don’t have to limit that message to only that special someone. Sometimes it can be even more meaningful to acknowledge those friends and important people in your life who may NOT be “attached” to you.

Too Much Technology?

After a day like today, I’m not sure there is such a thing as too much technology.

Somewhat of a CNN-buff, I’ve watched the rather frightening events in Egypt unfold today -- live.  How did this uprising get started – how did it gain momentum? It seems that Facebook and other social media outlets played a huge part in spreading the word in real time.  Even when Egypt basically “shut down” the Internet, enough streams were able to get out, that audio and video continued to leak out to the rest of the world.  It wasn’t too long ago when news events from the other side of the world took days to get to the public, with plenty of opportunity for censorship before it hit the airwaves.

I spent much of my day setting up an online shopping cart for a client where her videos on children’s nutrition will be available for download.  She will be able to reach a global audience easily; no inventory, packaging, shipping. Customers can order, pay and have the video in their hands in a matter of minutes.

While I write this (and actually the realization that led me to write this blog entry), half of my screen is running live video of my nephew’s Division III basketball game. And, although it’s not an important enough match-up to be on national TV, it’s important to me. 

Earlier today, I downloaded an application so I can access local weather radar on my phone. I already open my smartphone before I hop out of bed each morning, and scan through the national news. And, yes, when I can’t sleep, I’ve been known to check my email at 4 in the morning.  Gee, maybe that’s one of the reasons I can’t sleep well!?

I’ve had quick conversations with both sons through g-chat today.  Just a quick “how’s it going?” – but that connection sure made me feel a bit closer to them.

I used to enjoy listening to stories from my grandparents-in-law. I marveled at the “history” they had witnessed – I’m just realizing that my (future) grandchildren will have the same experience.  They’ll ask, “Tell us what it was like when you only had 4 television channels and could only talk on a phone or work on a computer when it was plugged into the wall.”  Oh geez – maybe there won’t even be television, telephones or computers by then!

Oh… .and by the way.  Marietta College (my nephew’s team) won by 2 points with a buzzer-beater.  I’m so glad I was “there.”