MORE FEEDBACK FOR A MOTHER'S DIARY by Dede Ranahan

Dede, don’t ever stop writing. You have a gift. Loved reading about the Clooney dream. Which of us doesn’t need a thoroughly entertaining dream to lift us out of the daily funk known as the utter failure of the U.S. Mental Health Care system? I must tell you that as I read each new installment of your diary, I become slightly anxious because I know what the future holds for Pat, and for you. Sending a hug.  Anne Schmidt Francisco

I agree with Anne about your writing Dede! It is a delightful glimpse into your real world, coupled with your dream world (George Clooney is in my dreams often, too) coupled with your beautiful son's beautiful mind. I confess that I haven't read every entry and will have to go back and catch up. How ironic that I took the time to read today's post and seeing our friend Rose mentioned. Thank you for always holding me in your heart and thoughts, too. Even though we lost direct contact for awhile, Rose was always there to connect our broken hearts. Much love and gratitude to you for sharing this brilliant, painful memoir and showing the world how families like ours live, breath, laugh, cry, and dream. Teresa Pasquini

 

Please share my blog/book with "other wayfarers who might catch a resonating echo while wandering in my woods." Thanks.

COMING UP THURSDAY, JANUARY 25, 2018
January 26, 2014 - February 7, 2014: On To Off * Another Tragedy * A New Wrinkle * Tradition and Heritage * Requests and Success * Damn Freud * Same Old Same Old * "Thanks for Coming In" * When I Was a Child * Staying Grounded * The Young Crowd

To subscribe and receive email notices of new book posts every other week, enter your email address in the box on the right at the top of the page, and hit the Sign Up button. If you have any trouble subscribing, send me an email and I'll sign you up from my end :-)

dede@soonerthantomorrow.com

Pat and me 1969

Pat and me 1969

A MOTHER'S DIARY by Dede Ranahan JANUARY 11, 2014 - JANUARY 24, 2014

That's All Folks * Old Friends * Working Out * Rose * American Hustle * Sorry State of Mental Health Care * Learn and Live * Football * SNAFU * The Paperwork Monster * I'm Engaged

To read A Mother's Diary from the beginning, click on the June 2017 archives in the right hand column and read "Before: Scenes from the Trenches."

 

JANUARY 11, 2014: THAT'S ALL FOLKS

Yahoo. I played duplicate bridge this morning and my partner and I came in second. It's a puzzle. When we think we've played well, we come in last. When we think we've played like shit, we come in first. It keeps one humble. But oh, on days like today, coming in second felt marvelous.

Now I'm cleaning floors like Miss Happy Homemaker in a TV commercial — sans the ruffled apron and dark red lipstick. I have a smile on my face and a trill in my voice. Jazzy's running for cover. I don't know if she's afraid of the vacuum cleaner or the spirited woman pushing it.

Tomorrow, friends I met on Guam 41  years ago are coming for the night. All in all, a good weekend. That's all folks. Yabba daba-doo.

PATRICK'S FACEBOOK POST: I guess I should take my Christmas tree down but thinking about leaving it up for the rest of the year.

 

JANUARY 12, 2014: OLD FRIENDS

I'm waiting for my friends, Bill and Bette, to arrive. I've popped a cranberry pie-cake in the oven. I've licked the batter in the bowl. Eggs, flour, sugar, butter, and almond flavoring. Yummy.

Megan calls. She and Britt are still fighting the battle over the drainage pipe on the hill behind their house. They're not getting satisfaction from the homeowner's association or the developer. Meanwhile, it could rain and flood their property again at any time. They'll probably need to hire an attorney.

Bill and Bette ring the doorbell. They walk in and we start chatting where we left off two years ago. Bette and I share Instagram photos on our smart phones. Bill dithers with his smart tablet. We're three old farts, sitting in my living room, trying to use technology. Glad no one's watching.

I make tuna sandwiches for lunch. We watch the 49ers win their football game. We drive to dinner at a southern ribs place. Bill orders deep fried okra as an appetizer. I wrinkle my nose but then eat my fair share. We watch Downton Abbey and cut into the cranberry pie and wash it down with homemade Irish cream.

All of us turn in at the bewitching hour of 10 p.m. Bill plugs in his breathing machine for his sleep apnea and wraps it in a towel to muffle the noise. "It bothers Betty," he says. These folks generally get up early — like 5:15 a.m. For my sake, Bill sleeps in until 6 a.m. and Bette starts getting dressed at 7 a.m.  I join them to make breakfast. 

Bill and Bette have attended exercise classes at 5:45 a.m., three times a week, for 20 or 30 or some ungodly number of years. I'm in awe. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is important to me at 5:45 in the morning except to stay warm under the covers. Guess you could say I'm not a morning person.

Bill ambles out to get the newspaper. His back is hurting — he has arthritis in his spine. Several neighbors are out walking dogs. "They saw me," he says. "Maybe they'll start a rumor about a man spending the night at your house." Bill's sprouting horns. "Let's sneak Bette out the back door so no one sees her. They'll only see me."

It's 9 a.m. Bill's pulling out his maps. Who uses maps anymore? Bill uses maps. He loves maps and he spreads them out on the kitchen table. He's marked two routes home — a direct route and a long, more scenic one. He's trying to decide which to take. He'll decide on the road.

"Let us know if you want to travel someplace with us. Come visit us in Medford."

I wave as Bill and Bette back their grey SUV out of the driveway. It's good to keep in touch with old friends.

PATRICK'S FACEBOOK POST: A poster: "Relax. Nothing is under control." And all this time I thought the opposite.

 

JANUARY 14, 2014: WORKING OUT

I'm at the gym with Deanne. She's my new personal trainer. She's young and pretty with a long, brown pony tail, dark brown eyes, and a toned, healthy-looking figure. If I pursue this fitness program will I look like Deanne?

Deanne asks about my health and has me check off boxes on a form. "Looks like you're pretty healthy," she says.

Pretty healthy and out of shape. We get right to it. I'm lifting weights over my head and to the sides. I'm pushing handles on weight machines. I'm leaning on chairs, crossing my legs and stretching my hamstrings. Hamstrings, biceps, triceps, quadriceps - I hear Deanne using these words.

I do two sets of 12 of each exercise. I try to remember to breathe. Is it exhale on exertion or inhale? "Don't worry," Deanne says. "It's most important to keep breathing. If you mix up inhaling and exhaling sometimes, it's okay." 

The half hour flies by. "You'll be sore tomorrow," Deanne says as a matter of fact.

I leave the gym and go to Snap it Up. The manager asks if I can hold down the fort for a few minutes on my own. I assure her I'll be fine. It's busy. People are aware of our "all shoes and clothing for $1 sale." Two hours into this shift and, oh my, I'm feeling a tad sore. Three hours in and I'm feeling more sore. I sit down at the cash register when there's a lull.

Now I'm at Lori's salon getting a haircut and highlight. In addition to being sore, I'm getting stiff. I fall into Lori's chair. I moan and groan when I have to move to the shampoo bowl.

I'm wondering what it will be like getting out of bed tomorrow morning. Maybe I should sleep in a chair. It might be easier to lift my body out of a chair than out of my bed. And Sonia will be here at 8 a.m. sharp to clean. I better set my alarm for 6 a.m. It might take me a while to get up, showered, and dressed. I may get slower before I get faster.

 

JANUARY 16, 2014: ROSE

My friend, Rose, and I are meeting for lunch. She's 75 and such a trooper. She's still fighting the exhaustive fight for a competent mental health system. She's one of three co-authors of California's Prop 63, the Mental Health Services Act.

Disappointed in its implementation, Rose lobbied for an audit by the California State Auditor. The auditor reported that it wasn't possible to determine whether Prop 63 programs had been of benefit to those served, had improved community mental health delivery, or whether programs had complied with the requirements of the law.

In addition to the appalling number of untreated mentally ill, Rose, based on her continuing research, believes eighty percent of those in the system are not receiving adequate care. "Parity," she says, "we still don't have parity for physical and mental health."

"Would you be willing to come speak to my support group? I'm applying for some funding so we can reimburse speakers for their gas and give them a small honorarium for their time."

"Yes, I'll speak to your group."

Rose's husband and son always come up in our conversations. They both ended their struggle with mental illness by suicide. Two grandsons — one is living with her — also deal with the illness. We agree. If all the parents and grandparents housing their mentally ill children and grandchildren were to dump them on the street, there'd be major socio-economic fallout. Our health and welfare programs would be more overwhelmed than they already are. These family members, who've given up on the mental health system, are a hidden, unappreciated population.

I ask about a mutual friend's thirty-something son. County mental health hasn't helped him. He has schizo-affective disorder and is in Napa State Hospital for the seriously mentally ill. Rose says, "He was charged with a crime after he got into a fight with another patient. He spent weeks in the county jail and then was transferred to the 'other side of the wall.' He's in the forensic unit of the hospital under horrible conditions with chains on his legs and wrists. He has a good attorney but the whole process is really outrageous."

I can't imagine what this is like for my friend. My mother-heart shudders for her. We change the subject. We talk about Rose's 75th birthday party. We talk about my mother, my children, and grandchildren. We try to talk about everyday things like average folks. We hug goodbye and remind each other, "Take care of yourself."

PATRICK'S FACEBOOK POST: It's been said that you always get screwed at the drive-through but lately I've been getting screwed every time I buy cottage cheese. Something about it doesn't taste right.
Mark: Sounds like it tastes like cottage cheese.

 

JANUARY 17, 2014: AMERICAN HUSTLE

My friend, Grace, and I are at the movies to see American Hustle. The theater's sold out. We end up sitting in different rows. It's a good movie with good actors - Bradley Cooper, Amy Adams, and Jennifer Lawrence. I'm enthralled watching Jennifer Lawrence. She's 22 or 23 and she's amazing. It will be interesting to see how her acting career progresses.

After the movie, Grace and I buy salads from the deli at Nugget Market. We catch up. Among other things, we talk about Governor Brown's announcement today. "It's official. California's experiencing a severe drought, the worse in 100 years."  

The governor's requesting a 20 percent reduction in water usage. Folsom Reservoir is so short of water that a ghost town, submerged by the lake, has become visible. The American River is at a two-decades low. The water shortage threatens, among other things, California's Central Valley agriculture and the supply of water sent to Southern California.

Water is always political. Ongoing fights continue between Northern and Southern California about water rights. With this drought, water will become even more political. In the hours after Governor Brown's announcement, opponents of fracking repeated their call for a moratorium on the process of extracting oil by using large amounts of water. They called for more water storage and more dam construction.

In the movie this morning, some 1978 congressmen were caught accepting bribes in exchange for supporting private interests. They were sent to prison. My guess is that today, behind the scenes, there's an "American hustle" going on among California's special water interests.

What's that saying? "The more things change, the more they stay the same."

 

JANUARY 18, 2014: SORRY STATE OF MENTAL HEALTH CARE

An email message today from NAMI California is quoting an article in the Wall Street Journal.

"According to the US Department of Health and Human Services, almost 91 million adults live in areas where shortages of mental health professionals make obtaining treatment difficult.

"A departmental report to Congress earlier this year said 55% of the nation's 3,100 counties have no practicing psychiatrists, psychologists or social workers, a combination of budget cuts and doctors leaving the profession.

"Such shortages are expected to grow now, as the federal healthcare law goes into effect and allows more people to seek help. Indeed, according to the National Association of State Mental Health Program Director, some 6.8 million uninsured people with a mental illness will gain coverage after federal and state health insurance exchanges implement the new law.

"More people will be chasing after scarce resources, an influx that will 'overwhelm if not inundate the field,' said Dr. Jeffrey Lieberman, president of the American Psychiatric Association."

PATRICK'S FACEBOOK POST: The cough syrup with codeine the Doc gave me triggers hyper-REM sleep. Very intense dreams.

 

JANUARY 19, 2014: LEARN AND LIVE

This quote appears in an advice column in today's newspaper. "We have two lives. The life we learn with and the life we live with after that."  Bernard Malamud

The writer to the advice columnist signs her letter "Just Sick." She says she lied to her date about using birth control and now she's pregnant. She's in her 40s with no husband and no support. She's realizing she doesn't know how to undo the mess she's made.

The adviser, Carolyn Hax, admonishes "Just Sick." "You've become rudely acquainted with what a bad person you're capable of being. Arguably everyone will, or should, have that awakening over the course of a lifetime — but it's still tough to live with."

Hax advises J. S.  to get therapy to help her use this lesson to become a better person than she was pre-deceit.

When does the life we learn with end, and the life we live with begin after that? My life is like a grocery cart still filling up with assorted mistakes and lessons learned. All the more reason to throw in hefty boxes of humility, cases of compassion, sacks of self-awareness, and cartons of respect for consequences — intended and unintended.

PATRICK'S FACEBOOK POST: Well, it's officially the marijuana super bowl. Two cities who have legalized marijuana battling it out. The Super Bowl indeed.

 

JANUARY 20, 2014: FOOTBALL

Deanne's giving me my Monday morning workout. She's recapping yesterday's football game between Seattle and San Francisco. She's describing incorrect calls by the referees. Deanne's fit, pretty, and nice. And on top of that, she understands football. How long can I keep liking this woman?

Often, I feel like I'm the only person in the hemisphere who doesn't get football. And what's more, I don't care. Football's messy. Football's mean. People get hurt. President Obama said this week, "If I had a son I wouldn't let him play college football. There's too much risk of serious injury — especially life-changing brain injury."

I'll try to remember that it's the Denver Broncos and the Seattle Seahawks who are headed to the Super Bowl. I'll say, "Isn't it sad about the 49ers losing?"

My phone rings, It's Kerry. I can't resist. I don't say, "Hello." I say, "Isn't it sad about the 49ers losing?"

Kerry's laughing. She knows I don't give a fig about the 49ers. You can fool some of the people some of the time, though. To others I'll say what I read on the internet: "The Seahawks started as the favorite in Vegas, but there was early action and the Broncos, within 30 minutes, became the favorite all over town."

I wonder if Deanne knows this?

 

JANUARY 21, 2014: SNAFU

Megan's entry today on her blog.

SNAFU...Situation Normal All F*ed Up

"When Aidan fell and lost his baby tooth at two, we were told he would have to wait five or six years for the adult tooth to show up. It broke my heart. He was cheated out of his top tooth for the first eight years of his life, and when the tooth finally showed up, it was sideways. SNAFU!

"Curious people always asked what happened to his tooth and it got to be a really old story. I wanted to snap my fingers and give him the straight tooth he deserved as soon as possible. Fortunately, after waiting six years, an orthodontist aligned the sideways tooth in no time and Aidan's missing, then crooked tooth, is a fading memory.

"Unfortunately, it's Ashton's turn to wait. It's been two years since his osteotomy. The surgery was a hopeful attempt to realign his right hip so that the degenerated femoral head could regenerate and put the Legg-Calve-Perthes diagnosis behind him. We were told that the regeneration phase could take two years.

"Ashton's been patient and here we are, two years later. Unfortunately, we now know that the prognosis isn't in his favor. His femoral head didn't regenerate and it's not aligned for proper growth. Ashton will need a hip replacement, but he has to wait. Hip replacements aren't done on a growing child. "Early twenties," they say, "perhaps late teens."

"Ashton is barely 10.

"This sounds like an eternity to me. I imagine ten more years of stiffness, lethargy, limping, and pain for my son. Again, I want to snap my fingers. I want to see a different x-ray. I want to see the one that shows healthy bones on both sides of his pelvis. I want to see him daily tie his shoes, ride his bike, walk the dog, play any sport he desires, and become a young man with a confident gait. But I can't because the SNAFU is right in front of me, in black and white.

"Listening to the orthopedic specialist, I'm heartbroken, but I don't show it because I'm being watched. My 10-year-old son is watching me to determine what this adult conversation means for him. If I cry, his heart will break, too. So I don't. I play the part of the confident mother. The mother who knows that everyone has a SNAFU in their cards. This is Ashton's. This is ours.

"Like it or not. We got this."

I want to hold my daughter. She will hold her son.

 

JANUARY 23, 2014: THE PAPERWORK MONSTER

There's nothing on my calendar today except paperwork. I'm paying my bills and Pat's bills. I'm organizing a 2013 tax file and collecting information to take to an attorney to update my living trust and Mom's living trust. I'm completing the application for funding for the mental illness support group. I'm scheduling my annual physical, Jazzy's annual physical, the heater's annual physical, and an eye exam.

The Jazz is as bored as I am. She's pacing back and forth in front of the computer screen. "Do something," she says. "Get out of that chair."

If I get out of this chair, none of the above will happen. It will get postponed until tomorrow or the next day. It won't go away. I see a scary mass of papers spreading out across my desk. It's the Paperwork Monster. It's big and white with blotches of color, irregular edges, and humps and bumps. I can't spray it, shoot it, drown it, or set it on fire — unless I want to burn the house down at the same time.

If the Paperwork Monster could talk it would say, "I've got you. You might ignore me today, but I'll be back tomorrow. I'll be back tomorrow and tomorrow until you have no tomorrow."

Well, that's a sobering thought. Guess I don't want the Paperwork Monster to disappear completely. Unfortunately, we're symbiotic organisms. This fact, frustrating as it is, gives me a modicum of comfort.

Remember this, Paperwork Monster. When I go, you go.

 

George ClooneyPhoto credit: Timur Gromov/Flickr

George Clooney
Photo credit: Timur Gromov/Flickr

JANUARY 24, 2014: I'M ENGAGED

I'm dreaming and, in my dream, George Clooney's proposing to me. He says, "I know this is the real thing because you have the same placemats as my sister."

I don't remember showing George my placemats. Tis of no consequence. I know this is the real thing, too, because we're on a movie set with lots of actors and crew wandering around. George is proposing in front of all of them. He gives me three engagement gifts.

The first gift is a candy rosebush covered with dark chocolate roses and edible blinking lights.

The second gift is three pair of long, dangly earrings. The first pair has big silver hoops with blue, world globes hanging from them. The second pair has long, wispy, red and green parrots made from real feathers. The third pair resembles snow shoes. Miniature snow shoes. I don't wear long, dangly earrings. But hey, if George were to give me earrings carved from watermelon rind, I'd wear them.

The third gift is enclosed in an expensive gold box. It's a do-it-yourself necklace —  a gold chain with 56 gilded Brazil nuts to string on at my leisure.

We're taking a break on the set. We've about finished filming, but George, as producer, has decided to scrap this screenplay and start over. I give him a copy of my "Manifesto for Mental Health Care Reform." He loves my script. He's making it the centerpiece of the new screenplay. In this story, a determined lady like my friend, Rose, fights for mental illness parity. It's a musical. I'm in the lead role.

In a few minutes, George is taking me to meet his sister. He wants to show me her placemats. Then darn. I wake up.

 

Please share my blog/book with "other wayfarers who might catch a resonating echo while wandering in my woods." Thanks.

COMING UP THURSDAY, JANUARY 25, 2018
January 26, 2014 - February 7, 2014: On To Off * Another Tragedy * A New Wrinkle * Tradition and Heritage * Requests and Success * Damn Freud * Same Old Same Old * "Thanks for Coming In" * When I Was a Child * Staying Grounded * The Young Crowd

To subscribe and receive email notices of new book posts every other week, enter your email address in the box on the right at the top of the page, and hit the Sign Up button. If you have any trouble subscribing, send me an email and I'll sign you up from my end :-)

dede@soonerthantomorrow.com

MORE FEEDBACK FOR A MOTHER'S DIARY by Dede Ranahan

You've had a year to be so proud of! Love Soonerthantomorrow! Keep up the great work! Stace

The heartbreaking scenarios you describe here sound so very familiar; yet, I find I am counting myself as fortunate to not have suffered all of them. Thank you for your eloquent writing. I hope that everyone will read your book when it's published. Marilyn Martin

Your writing skills are exceptional and I particularly love the way you string words together!! V

 

Please share my blog/book with "other wayfarers who might catch a resonating echo while wandering in my woods." Thanks.

COMING UP THURSDAY, JANUARY 11, 2018

January 11, 2014 - January 24, 2014: That's All Folks * Old Friends * Working Out * Rose * American Hustle * Sorry State of Mental Health Care * Learn and Live * Football * SNAFU * The Paperwork Monster * I'm Engaged

To subscribe and receive email notices of new book posts every other week, enter your email address in the box on the right at the top of the page, and hit the Sign Up button. If you have any trouble subscribing, send me an email and I'll sign you up from my end :-)

dede@soonerthantomorrow.com

 

Pat and Me 1969

Pat and Me 1969

A MOTHER'S DIARY by Dede Ranahan DECEMBER 30, 2013 - JANUARY 10, 2014

Clues * Happy New Year * Doing Whatever I Want * Stories in the News * A Lifetime's Too Short * Baby, It's Cold Outside * My To-Do List * The Briar Patch * WTF * Our Support Group

To read A Mother's Diary from the beginning, click on the June 2017 archives in the right hand column and read "Before: Scenes from the Trenches."

 

DECEMBER 30, 2013: CLUES

Christmas company's gone. Jim and Sharon left this morning. Jazzy's wandering around. "Where did all the people go? Is it just you and me again?"

I'm listening to music from the movies on my new stereo. It's a Christmas gift from Jim and Sharon. Jim spent two days buying it and hooking it up. It has five speakers and surround sound. When we turned it on for the first time, I caught my breath. My kitchen radio doesn't project and is full of static. This orchestra in my living room sends notes swirling through my soul.

To make the stereo work, I needed to upgrade my ten-year-old television. I now own a TV with DMI1. I'm not sure what DMI1 is but the images on the screen are bright. Colors are vivid. People are three dimensional.

When I bought my old TV, it was considered cutting edge. How long will it take for this new one to be outdated? Six months? Built-in obsolescence discourages making choices. Choices must be made, however, or we live in suspended animation.

Megan, Marisa, and Kerry gave me a Kindle. Now I have more choices — books with covers and paper pages, or books downloaded on a computer-type device. I'll buy books when I want to keep them and underline and write in the margins. I'll read reviews and previews on the Kindle. I'll download books when I want to have one at the ready.

By the time a descendant chances to read this, TV's, stereos, and Kindles will be obsolete. Someone, an older person, will have to explain what the heck they were.

Today, people research their families on ancestry.com. They want to know who they are by knowing who they came from. They look for clues in "the old days." I'm trying to pay it forward by leaving these notes about "the old days" for those who come after.

PATRICK'S FACEBOOK POST: I find more and more that, when faced with the various daily challenges life throws at me, I am beginning to repeat an old mantra, "Lord Have Mercy."

 

DECEMBER 31, 2013: HAPPY NEW YEAR

It's the last day of the year and I'm working at the kitty rescue thrift store. Goodbye 2013.

Like all other years, 2013 flew by. It gave us a pope from South America, Prince George in England, civil rights advances, worries over national security surveillance programs, chemical weapons in Syria, severe weather, gun violence, health care struggles, water shortages, and government impasses.

Tomorrow, the first day of the new year, offers chances for new beginnings:
     We'll try harder.
     We'll hold hands and celebrate diversity.
     We'll love our brothers and sisters.
     We'll be good stewards of earth and it's creatures.
     We'll cure the sick and feed the hungry.
     We'll make the distribution of wealth more equitable.
     We'll guarantee gender equality in jobs and politics.
     We'll make sure technology is in sync with our human hearts and minds.
     We won't fight.
     We won't go to war.

By February, the new year's aura will have begun to fade.  We'll have failed to keep our resolutions even through January. Politics, economics, and other world woes will challenge us and drag us back into old bad habits. But tonight and tomorrow we have hope. We have breath and life. Help us remember, 2014, every day we have one day to try to be the best we can be.

PATRICK'S FACEBOOK POST: Highlights from helping Mom to set up her new HDTV stereo system: Getting her to listen to "Holy Diver" by Ronnie James, "Dio Blackout" by The Scorpions, and "Little Too Late" by Nicki Bluhm and the Gamblers. 2013 was a very good year — moved into a new house, had cancer-free MRI's, got a dog, enjoyed myself. Ready for 2014 to be filled with new opportunities for learning, employment, and relationship. Happy New Year everyone!

 

JANUARY 1, 2014: DOING WHATEVER I WANT

I'm putting the house back together — taking ornaments off the Christmas tree, stowing snowmen away, retiring Jesus, Mary, and Joseph for another year. It's fun putting up Christmas decorations. It's a relief to take them down. At first, the house looks bare. Then it begins to look peaceful and uncluttered again.

I'm not making much progress. I keep taking time out to read the first book I've downloaded onto my new Kindle - Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. It's a thriller and a page turner. I'm still in my pajamas. No make-up. No plans to leave the house. Basking in downtime from non-stop holiday eating and a houseful of guests. A quiet, do-whatever-I-want kind of day.

PATRICK'S FACEBOOK POST: Unlike many New Year's Eves gone by where I rang in the new year with the Grateful Dead, last night I had a low key evening of working sound for a burning bowl ceremony at the church (a much different burning bowl than you find with the Dead), went out for beer and appetizers at the Yard House with the minister and a couple of ladies from the church. Yes, church ladies. Then went out alone to a local Irish pub where I found nothing I liked in the drunken crowd, the horrible music, and the incessant noise. Was home and in bed by 11:15 p.m. Hard to believe I'm the same person I was twenty years ago.

Gayle: On the first day of the year I need to tell you, Patrick, that everything you write and say makes me smile or shake my head.

 

JANUARY 2, 2014: STORIES IN THE NEWS

There's a story in the newspaper today about a marine ecosystem that scientists are calling the "plasticsphere" — a new, man-made ecosystem of plastic debris. The plasticsphere is a product of discarded plastic items — flip flops, margarine tubs, toys, toothbrushes — that get swept from sewer systems and river systems into the sea. When the debris washes into the ocean, it breaks down into bits that are colonized by microscopic organisms. Scientists fear that chunks of polyethylene and polypropylene then percolate into the environment.

According to the article, about 245 million tons of plastic residue is produced each year. That represents 70 pounds of plastic for each of the 7.1 billion people on the planet. Researchers are studying this trash to determine the damage it does to our oceans. And to us.

Another story is about computerizing people — a movement to outfit people with electronic devices than can be swallowed, implanted, or attached to skin via "smart tattoos." Critics say this pushes the boundaries of what it means to be human. Supporters envision a day when devices, placed in people, will enable them to control computers, prosthetic limbs, and other objects with their thoughts.

A nonprofit organization, Mars One, based in the Netherlands, has the goal of turning the colonization of Mars into a reality show. Over 200,000 people have applied for a one-way ticket to Mars. More than half are under the age of 35 but 26 are over 56. The oldest applicant is 81. The US has the most applicants - 297 - moving into round two of the winnowing process. In the next four years, Mars One will cull the applicant group down to 40. Those selected will train in groups for seven years. Then, a global audience will vote and choose the first team to go to Mars in 2025.

In 2025, I'll be 81. Body and soul of mine, please stay healthy and together. I want to be around and find out how these stories play out...

 

JANUARY 3, 2014: A LIFETIME'S TOO SHORT

I've finished reading Madeleine L'Engle's A Wrinkle in Time, which I should have read as a kid but didn't. I'm poking around on the internet, trying to understand what a "tesseract" is.

I'm looking at interactive diagrams. I get the first dimension — a line. I get the second dimension — the square of the line — a flat square. I even get the third dimension — the square of the second dimension — the flat square is no longer flat. It has a bottom, sides and a top. It's a cube.

This is where it gets dicey. You square the cube, but you can't really draw it. Some people call this the fourth dimension or time. Then, to get to the fifth dimension, you square the fourth. And the fifth is a "tesseract" — a wrinkle in time or a short cut through space.

Of course. Silly me. Why didn't I see this before?

One site says in 200 years we may have a different understanding of the fourth and fifth dimensions that will change everything. Great. I don't have 200 years to find out how everything gets changed. I'm feeling frustrated when, in fact, everyone faces the same dilemma. There's more to know than can be grasped in one lifetime.

 

JANUARY 4, 2014: BABY, IT'S COLD OUTSIDE

Bears hibernate when it's cold outside and it's cold outside. I think I'm part bear. I know what I'm about to do and I don't want to admit it. 
     It's 4:30 in the afternoon.
     I kick off my shoes and crawl into bed.
     I pull the red, velvety throw round my hands and my head.
     That rhymes.

My bones are cold. They feel like chicken bones stuffed in a freezer. I'll warm up under the covers. My eyes are closing. It's light outside.

My eyes are opening. It's dark outside. And it's still so darn cold on the other side of these blankets. The good angel, on my right shoulder, says, "Get up."

The bad angel, on my left shoulder, says, "Naw. Go ahead. Wallow in warmth and softness. Stay where you are."

I agree with the bad angel. Who wrote the rules about having to be up freezing my buns off in a cold house? The good angel is losing patience. "You're being ridiculous. Get up. Act like a grown-up."

All right, already. I throw back the covers, dash to the closet, and grab a sweater. I check my email. Someone's forwarded photographs of old people looking into mirrors, seeing themselves as they looked sixty years ago. One man says, "It's a universal condition — at some point in your life, you look in the mirror and say, 'Wait a minute, how did I get this old?'"

Someone else adds, "I need to go lie down for a while."

For crying out loud. I think the bad angel sent this email. Be forewarned, bad angel. I'm not getting back into bed. I'm going to look at myself in the mirror. What reflection will I see? I'll probably see a bear, an old scruffy bear, scratching her butt on a redwood tree and about to curl up in a dark, toasty cave.

 

JANUARY 5, 2014: MY TO-DO LIST

It's a new year. People make New Year's resolutions. I don't. Instead, I'll make a short list of things I want to get done. It's my little ritual of visualizing goals to make them happen. Last year, my list included the following:
     1. Get Pat into permanent housing.
     2. Sell the golf cart.
     3. Install storage cabinets in the garage.
Check. Check. And Check.

What's on my have-to-get-done list for 2014?
     1. Update my living trust.
     2. Sign on with a personel trainer at our community gym.
     3. Plan something for my 70th birthday.

The first item doesn't need explanation. The second item's because, if I don't have someone waiting for me to show up, I won't make it to my workout.

Last week, I bought two three-pound barbells at the thrift shop. These two purple bell thingies were sitting, side by side, on a small table when one of them picked itself up and threw itself onto the floor. I'm not kidding. It didn't roll off the table. It flew off the table. It landed with a loud thud. No one was standing nearby. The three of us in the shop froze. We looked at the barbell. We looked at each other. Whoa. What just happened here? How did that barbell move? A big sign.

GO TO THE GYM.

The third item on my to-do list is about my birthday. Here's the thing, the only birthday party I ever planned for myself was when my then-husband and I turned 40 at the same time. When I was married, I waited hoping something would happen on my birthday. Often, whatever happened was last minute. "You want to go to dinner or something? It's past six o'clock. We could go to the club."

I should have been less self-negating. I should have taken the bull by the horns. I should have stormed the barricades. I should have drawn my sword and shouted, "Carpe Diem!"
     My birthday's coming up.
     My birthday's this year.
     My birthday's next month.
     My birthday's next week.
     My birthday's tomorrow.
     My birthday's today and we have reservations for dinner at Scoma's in San Francisco.

I should have left notes around the house. "I want a 22-inch, dark blue, beaded, single-strand necklace with a decorative clasp, to wear with the light-blue dress I bought for my birthday. Thank you very much."

I should have been obnoxious.

At any rate, my birthday's in a few months — my seventieth birthday. How many times have I mentioned this? Am I being obnoxious?

In the past year, I've lost four friends who didn't make it to 70. I want my turning 70 to be meaningful. I want turning 70 to be an expression of gratitude. I don't know, yet, what this commemoration will look like — a party, a trip, a house full of family and friends, a silent retreat? But I have it written down on my to-do list for 2014. And if something's written down on my list, it generally comes to pass.

PATRICK'S FACEBOOK  POST: California weather update for my East Coast friends: 58 degrees and cloudy.

 

 

Photo credit: Aden Tranter/Flickr

Photo credit: Aden Tranter/Flickr

JANUARY 7, 2014: THE BRIAR PATCH

Back working at the thrift store. It's received so many donations in the past month — people cleaning out closets — that we're having a sale to move merchandise.

ALL CLOTHING AND SHOES IN THE STORE ARE $1
THE SALE CONTINUES UNTIL JANUARY 21.

Starburst, an orange kitten, is in the adoption room. He's six-months-new to this world and he's got attitude. "I'm here. Listen to me roar."

Starburst's two siblings have been adopted and he doesn't like being alone. His cries are loud and demanding. Guests in the store take turns playing with him. Pick him up and you press a purr button. Never mind he doesn't know you. He likes you. 

One little girl wants to adopt Starburst. "I have to ask my dad. I'm going to go home and draw two kitty pictures. One for my house and one for the store."

"Wonderful. We'll put your drawing on the bulletin board."

Last week, the same little girl wanted to buy a s'more maker. Her mother told her to go home and ask her father. The next day she was back. "Dad said 'yes' to the s'more maker."

This time her mother tells her, "It may not work the same way when you ask for a kitten."

People are taking their time shopping. They don't want to overlook a good buy. I offer assistance. "Can I take those clothes out of your arms while you shop for more?"

Folks head out the door with 20 pieces of clothing each — dresses, shirts, shoes, winter jackets, leather jackets, children's outfits, sweaters — for $20 plus tax. A woman buys a long, violet evening gown. She's not planning to wear it. "This dress will make lots of doll clothes."

Another woman buys a card maker. A new lady enters looking for an egg plate. We don't have one anywhere but we do get them in. She'll check back. It's for an art project. An elderly woman is hunting for tap shoes. She's signed up for tap lessons.

People, with bits and pieces of their stories, file in and out the door. In and out the door. I feel like Br'er Rabbit in the Uncle Remus tales. Someone's thrown me in the briar patch.

PATRICK'S FACEBOOK POST: One of the great things about being the son of a doctor was that you could always get a prescription when you needed one. I called the Kaiser advice nurse and reported my sore throat and congestion and was advised to "do a saltwater gargle." I might as well have called my grandmother.

 

JANUARY 9, 2014: WTF

Pat calls. "I met with the bankruptcy attorney this morning. All the paperwork is turned in. We're waiting for a court date. Probably in February. I saw a program at Sierra Junior College for library tech certification. I think I'd qualify for a loan. It's about $10,000 per semester for two semesters, but I'd need help with the registration fees and books."

"Why is it so much per semester?"

"Well, it covers living expenses like housing and food."

"But you have housing and food."

"Barely. It would be nice to have things not be so tight."

"You're filing bankruptcy. It's not time to take on new debt. Go to some libraries in the area. Talk to the head librarians. Find out if they're hiring and what skill sets they need. You may end up getting a certificate for a job that is being eliminated with budget cuts."

"I knew I shouldn't have told you about this. I'm trying to do something constructive and you're being negative. Bye."

I need the wisdom and patience of I don't know WTF who.

Just hung up the phone with my new personal trainer, Deanne. She made me feel good. "I have clients in their late eighties. You're just a kid."

I may be a "kid" but I'm an out of shape kid. Deanne has her work cut out for her. I do, too. My first session will be next Tuesday and we'll work on strength, balance, and flexibility. My goals are to feel less stiff in the morning, to be able to stand up from a squatting position without help, and to have more muscle in my arms and legs.

Deanne will give me some exercises to do with my new purple weights. That should keep the spirits in the thrift store quiet. Let's hope Pat's bankruptcy and my strength-training go well.

 

JANUARY 10, 2014: OUR SUPPORT GROUP

At the Family Mental Illness Support Group, ten people show up including two new people. Random comments at the meeting:

"I'm here to support my twin sister."

"I found a new psychiatrist to help me with anxiety issues about my bipolar son."

"Things seem to be revving up with my daughter again."

"Well, we're here because we come every time. Our son is homeless."

"My daughter lives clear across the country but I still need support."

"Our son is back home with us. The housing he was in foreclosed and he had nowhere else to go. It's driving a wedge between my husband and me."

I tell the group, "We've been offered an opportunity to get a little funding from the local foundation. We could use the money for books, speakers, and programs. Do you want me to pursue this?"

There's an unanimous "Yes."

"What are some of the topics you'd like to have addressed?"
"Housing." 
"Denial."
"Legal issues."
"Special Needs Trusts."

"Okay. I'll look into the application process and get it started. Have a good month everyone."

PATRICK'S FACEBOOK POST: Top ten books that have had pivotal influence for me:
1. Letters to a Young Poet, Rainer Maria Rilke
2. Franny and Zooey, J.D. Salinger
3. The Great American Novel, Philip Roth
4. Fear of Flying, Erica Jong
5. Storming Heaven, Jay Stevens
6. On the Road, Jack Kerouac
7. Confederacy of Dunces, John Kennedy Toole
8. The Collected Poems of Joseph Brodsky, Joseph Brodsky
9. The Phantom Tollbooth, Norton Juster
10. Autobiography of a Yogi, Paramahansa Yogananda

 

Please share my blog/book with "other wayfarers who might catch a resonating echo while wandering in my woods." Thanks.

COMING UP THURSDAY, JANUARY 11, 2018
January 11, 2014 - January 24, 2014: That's All Folks * Old Friends * Working Out * Rose * American Hustle * Sorry State of Mental Health Care * Learn and Live * Football * SNAFU * The Paperwork Monster * I'm Engaged

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dede@soonerthantomorrow.com