A Half Piece of Bacon

I am one of those truly blessed people who have parents who model an amazingly loving relationship. These two gentle spirited people met when they were 13, in the 7th grade. They went to the same parties, and had true feelings for each other. Some would have called it puppy love, but it is real to puppies. During the summer before 9th grade, dad's family moved to West LA, and mom came home crying that she would never see him again. Time went on, they both entered High School, were involved with year book, service organizations, music and sports at High School. WWII was on, dad went into the navy, and came home. He entered LA City College. He had remained friends with one of the guys in Jr High, who invited him to come in and double date for a night at the Paladium. Dad's friend was dating mom, casually. She got a friend of hers for dad. They met eyes, traded partners for one dance, and were back together again, forever this time. They went on to finish education, re-call to navy, beginning their family. . .

Now, married almost 62 years, very happily, they exemplify a love that is always mindful of the other, deferring to one another, in a very natural sort of way. It isn't in such a way that one always gives in. It is in the way that out of love for the other, they give. It is their joy to do so.

They have experienced difficulty, as most couples do in that long of marriage. The difficulties were financial, just in the way that they were middle class and so making the dollars stretch was often a challenge. They took care of their parents, had family difficulties with extended family, and worst of all, lost their son 10 years ago. But, where some couples turn on each other in difficulty, blaming the other, or becoming resentful, mom and dad never did. They continued deferring to the other, gladly sacrificing for the other or for the greater good.

Now, for the last 5 years, mom has had dementia. She no longer does any of the household chores, and sleeps a lot of the day. She has to be reminded to take her shower, she wouldn't remember taking her pills, so dad does it for her. She has gone through periods that have been difficult, in multiple hospitalizations, falls in the middle of the night, etc. Through it all, dad, at 84, continues to take care of of mom, even when it is beyond his ability to do. He tries to pick her up from the floor to get her back to bed. He will only ask for help if he's tried and cannot do it.

And this morning, on this Thanksgiving weekend, he made Waffles for the family while I made the bacon. We decided to go ahead and finish up the package of bacon, even though it would mean 3 of us would have 3 pieces of bacon, and one person would have 2. I put that thought out of my head, as I had decided to take the two pieces. But as we sat at the table, Dad said he had forgotten to get his bacon. I went back to the kitchen to get it for him, and there noticed 2 1/2 pieces of bacon. Looking at mom's plate, was the other 2 1/2 pieces.

This has to be the secret formula for a loving, happy, and wonderful marriage. It's so much more than the bacon, but an attitude of life. If everyone would do this, there would be no conflict in this world, and we would all be a lot happier.

Remembered

Today, a memorial service was given to remember and honor a man who lived in a park nearby for nearly 30 years, and died there. To some, he was thought of as a homeless man. But what we were reminded of today by Bill's brother was that he was not homeless. He chose to live in a home made of trees, grass, with no walls, or rooftop. Bill's father was there, and said, "I was so afraid that no one would remember Bill." But much to his surprise, about 100 people came to give tribute to Bill. And while it was mentioned that he was schizophrenic and bi-polar, although it was mentioned that he drank a lot, to self medicate, greater attributes were given. He was: intelligent, well read, artistic, very caring, deeply spiritual, kind, gentle, and a lover of Star Wars, calling himself Darth Vader. He loved music, would give blessings to those who expressed care for him with the words, "Vaya con Dios!" He gave hugs, and kisses, even while dancing back and forth, on the boulevard.

Bill was part Native American, and so his life was lived in areas throughout the foothills. He tried to live with his family but was not able to maintain living in a home. He taught us all many lessons. He taught us compassion, he taught us that although Bill was mentally ill, he was a son, a brother, a cousin, a friend. He taught us many things through his intellect. He blessed us with his artistic prowess and creativity.

But while Bill's family were afraid no one would remember Bill. Over 100 people came to honor him. Stories were told, tears were shed, the word was proclaimed, but more than anything, Bill was remembered, and Bill will be remembered, for a very long time.


"We Remember Them" By, Rabbi Simcha Kling


"At the rising of the sun and it's going down we remember them.
At the blowing of the wind and in the still of winter, we remember them.
At the opening of the buds and the rebirth of spring, we remember them.
At the blueness of the skies and in the warmth of summer, we remember them.
When we are lost and sick at heart, we remember them.
When we have decisions that are difficult to make, we remember them.
When we have achievements that are based on theirs, we remember them.
As long as we live, they too will live, for they are now a part of us, as we remember them."

Occupy

The people have finally arrived at the place where they are saying, "Enough!" They are making strong statements that are definitive; closing accounts at Bank of America because they are tired of the banksters charging us to use our own money. This is just one of many examples. Tired of the wealthy getting even more wealthy off the backs of the middle class and the poor. Tired of our jobs being moved overseas, and when we protest, we are called lazy? Hippies? Commies? It's almost laughable . . . if it weren't so sad.

And the millionaires, the billionaires, the public officials who have sold their souls to the Corporate dollar are afraid. It was so much easier when the people were complacent and although frustrated, not doing anything about it. As long as they had us cynical and complacent, they could continue. Not anymore. The movement is all over the US, and all over the world. And it is just gathering momentum.Some guy from a conservative organization was going around handing out bongs and one of his cohorts taking pictures. I am sure it will show up on FOX News, just so they can continue their propaganda that these protestors are lazy, drug addicted, socialists trying to take over the country. But the truth is, it is the sons and daughters of Joe America, who did it the right way: they got good grades, went to college, only to come out of school with those degrees to find no jobs for them. It is the thousands of people who worked hard, bought a home, were raising their families, paid their mortgages, only to either lose their job, through downsizing, lose their health insurance, lose their homes. Or, paying the mortgage on time, month after month, even keeping their jobs, only to find that all their neighbors lost theirs and went into foreclosure, leaving them owing more money than the home is now worth. The bottom has dropped out, in more than one direction, and the people are angry, justifiably so. While the middle class struggle, the banksters were bailed out in order that they would help the home owners, but instead paid themselves bonuses. And are now claiming to be the victims in this. Bullshit. The banksters, mortgage companies, title companies, and insurance companies have made huge profits, at every level of the process, they have received huge tax breaks, While the rest of us are just trying to hold on. And they wonder why people are in the streets. How do you spell "Greedy Sociopath?"

Our country is on the brink of losing it's soul. We used to be a country that believed in the motto written on the statue of Liberty, "Bring me your poor, your huddled masses" Now we are more likely to throw them under the bus, so the millionaires can get that tax break on the new jet they use to lobby the politicians. So the people engage in a peaceful assembly, acting on their constitutional rights to protest, and the police come out in riot gear. Did you not notice this is a peaceful protest? Did you not notice that the protestors are picking up their trash in the parks? Did you not notice the RN's setting up first aide stations, and volunteering their time to care for those who might need medical assistance? Oakland police bring tear gas, rubber bullets, and projectiles to throw at the protestors. Why? Because they are taking care of each other? They hold a few posters with important messages on them? You need rubber bullets for. . . what? A US Marine just returned home from Iraq, where he went to "Defend our country." He put his life on the line, returns home, goes to the protest peacefully, and gets shot by a rubber bullet from his own countrymen; those men/women who are there to "protect and serve." RIGHT. This young veteran is now in critical condition. REALLY?? Is this what he fought for? Are these the principles of the US now?

I hope the people remain in the streets, in front of the places of power, and that there are plenty around to remind our elected officials who put them there, and just who they are representing. I hope the crowds grow, that people take their money out of the big banks, because after all, voting with our feet and our pocketbooks is the best way to vote. I hope the regulations are replaced that were there to protect the people, and that the American Dream can return and the American Nightmare can depart, never to return again.

Olivia

She is 65, a mother of 4, and a wife of a man who has abused her most of their married life. She is dying of cancer, but in some ways she died years ago, as her soul was abused by one who said he loved her. Her family were all in the living room. Olivia sat on her bed, leaning against the wall, and her story unfolded. She looked me in the eye and said "Please pray for me that God will just take me. I want to die." She was speaking of her no longer wanting to struggle with the cancer that consumed her body, but also the pain of her home. She needed a place of peace. A place to find comfort, in a physical sense, but also in a spiritual sense. Ironically, her husband's erratic and abusive behavior had no hold on her anymore. She had already let go of any desire for life in this world.

We helped her get to a facility, where she could be peaceful, get rest, and be safe. She was there for a few days before her husband went to bring her back home, and he transferred her to another hospice, so we were unable to monitor her safety. I am assuming she is gone now. In some ways I hope she is. To have the ultimate peace, and end to her suffering. But I never got to say goodbye. Only in my heart. Be at peace, Olivia.

Mother's Day

She sat on the edge of her bed, and looked over at the family portraits taken for her 50th anniversary. I knew what was on her heart as she looked at the pictures. It was confirmed when she stood up and took the one of her son, Tom in her hands, and held it close in her lap. She carefully put it back on the dresser and went in to get dressed. She came out and sat in her favorite window seat when I greeted her and told her "Happy Mother's day." She said. "Thank you. . . and then looked at me and completing her sentence said, "I miss Tom today." As I looked over at my own son, I understood. I told her, "I am sure you do, Mom. I cannot even imagine the loss you must feel."

And this Mother's Day, as with every other, she thinks of her children, even though only one is still present with her. But he was her firstborn. That birth that changed her life forever. That first time she felt the power of loving this little one on her chest more than words could express. And the power of that kind of love doesn't lessen, because of death. . . in fact that love is only felt that much more intensely, as she feels his absence.

Sibling Grief

My brother and only sibling died 9 years ago of a massive heart attack at age 46. It was a complete shock to our family, and it is a loss that we all still feel daily. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't remember him, think about him, and miss him. Not that I haven't gone on and lived a full and often wonderfully rich life, but there is always that sense that a part of me is missing. His name is Tom. He is the one who shared my genetics, my life history, our family stories, and the joys and frustrations of family life. There were those stories of growing up that would make us crack up until there were tears running down our faces, just with the "remember when. . ." and we both knew the story. You just had to be there. . .

When a family member dies, the emphasis is usually placed on the spouse, the parents or the children, but the Siblings are usually passed over. . .not intentionally, but nevertheless, they are. There are certain things said like: " Well, it's so good that you are there to help your parents", or "how is his or her spouse and children doing?" But very few seem to acknowledge that the sibling is grieving as well. And they are often grieving just as strongly. Their grief is real, and re-defining.

In my case, it meant an added responsibility in that I am now the only child of elderly parents, with my mom having the beginning stages of dementia. Three years ago, I had both parents in the hospital, at the same time, during Christmas, and at one time in two different hospitals. Being that I am also a single mom, and a career woman presently serving as a hospice spiritual counselor, it was quite overwhelming. I would have shared that with my brother. At least he and I would have been a support system for each other. Now, when I think of my parents eventual dying it is with the realization that my family of origin will be gone, and it will be my son and I. It sometimes feels like abandonment, but others it just feels lonely. I have tried to think about it in more creative, or positive ways, like Tom being on one side of life and me on the other for my parents. But in the day to day living, it is a sense that I once had someone to share this life with and now he is gone. The platitudes of "he's in a better place" etc. don't comfort very often, even though I believe in life after death firmly.

Grief studies speak often about the grieving person needing to redefine who they are without that person. One of my supervisors speaks of grief as more than just the loss of the person, but what that person symbolized for us. So, as we examine our emotions and process of grieving, we must look at not only the life of the person we lost, but the ways in which we related to them, what role they played in our life; friend, shared interests, advice, or someone we "took care of." In families with multiple children, at least the remaining children have other siblings, but if that one sibling who died is the one that one of them was the closest to, or the one that there were conflicts with. their grief process will be effected, and may alter the relationships with their surviving siblings as well. There will often be a process of re-negotiating the roles that each person in the family may play.

What is important is that siblings grieve as strongly as others in the family do, and need to be given the same acknowledgment as each person in the family. Just as each person grieves in their own way, each family member grieves for the loss that is real to them. Brenda Marshall discovered as many others have as well, that there is very little written material out there for sibling grief. But just in my life, even in the last couple of years, I have had at least 6 friends who have lost a sibling, and we are all talking about the sense of responsibility we feel for the others in our families, but we have also all experienced the sense that even the reality of our grief process isn't acknowledged as the others' in the family. And yet, the sibling relationship is often one of the longest relationships in the deceased's life. Support should be given to all in the family, and not added pressure as the siblings are encouraged to take care of the parents, or the children etc.

The feeling of setting aside our own grief in order to take care of the others in the family is something that happens often, but is also destructive, and only prolongs the grief of the sibling. The grief does get easier, but it never goes away. It is important to have the space and time to nurture the emotions, and find the healing necessary.

From the Inside Out

Today the message in church was how we operate in life as those who respond from the outside in? Or the Inside out? In other words, are we those who base our emotional being, our values, our psychological health, etc. on how things happen in the world around us, or do we base how we respond by our heart, our spirit, our sense of who we are because of God within?

If we are those who operate from the outside in, we will be tossed to and fro from whatever circumstances that happen in life, and we all know that life has it's good times and it's painful times. If we are guided by the outside circumstances, our emotions will be all over the place Our sense of who we are, our happiness will never be the same from one moment to the next. Worst of all, and outside in person becomes a victim to the circumstances of life.

But on the contrary, if we are those who operate from the inside out, we have an opportunity to go within and examine our hearts and our souls based on whatever circumstances may be happening in our life at the moment, and we can seek wisdom from within, listen to our hearts, seek God for wisdom, seek that place of secure hope that exists no matter what may befall us. It is from that place that creativity arises. It is from that place that new direction can occur even out of a tragedy, as we discover new things about ourselves; new strengths, or dreams that can be fulfilled based on the open door of a change in our lives. It is often in the difficult challenges of life that gifts can arise because we discover new things about ourselves that we never would have learned had it not been for the pain. It also empowers us to realize that no matter what happens to us, we are going to be ok, we will survive, and might even be more than conquerors.

One of the other points that was brought out today as that when we go inward, we are in touch with the dreams and visions of our lives, that many on the outside may be naysayers about. But if we move from the inside out, we are motivated by those dreams and visions that are given to us, no matter how others may try to discourage us. If we are guided by those dreams and visions we will move out and accomplish the unimaginable.

In my best moments, I am an inside out person. I have had too many difficult experiences where I needed to go within, and when I found that there was a strength there that carried me through. I have had too many experiences of God's presence and peace, even in the midst of deep pain, such as a death in the family, or a job loss, etc. Some of the circumstances were ones that did rock me to my core, but it was at my core that I found more than survival; I found a strength beyond my own, a new creative approach, and new understandings of myself; who I am, what is important, and who I am becoming, to know that going inside is far greater than going outside. I do not begin to claim that I am constantly an inside out person. It is not an easy thing to do, but on my best days. . . and I believe the best days are getting more frequent.