Fatigue

 

As of late last month, I have turned another year.older in my life. I've reflected on the many losses that have come with the passage of time. As expected, the older one gets, the more relationships end. Of course, change happens. 

What hurts the most beyond personal losses are the changes in the nation. Had I not become aware of the past, before I was born (the period around World War II,) I would have thought the current upheaval reflects somewhat the 1960s historical events of my childhood. As I approached my teens, I became a flower child, watching as the country I grew up in seemed to becoming apart. That's what I saw on the news but it was in smaller doses than today. 

People are constantly angry and the media which has grown so much more (despite the falling of print media) in terms of amplifying every instance in the daily lives of world citizens has made this a much more anxious time for me than I recall in my childhood amid a massive war (Vietnam) several assassinations or assassination attempts, protests, and other forms of brutal actions. I'd hoped in more recent years, there would be a "fever break" but that doesn't appear to be happening. I am so saddened by what has become a divided nation, more than I ever recall in my lifetime. I truly am a peace seeker in a chaotic world. And I'm tired.

  

Reflections on getting older

 It is incredible how time has sped on. Today begins another Spring, the season of my birth and I have lived through so many historical and personal events. At the end of this month, I will reach another birthday.

Since I last wrote an entry here, there are some events that have happened. The primary major event has been a pandemic which circled the globe and still is not totally gone, despite the way many are viewing it. It helped that vaccines were created to lessen the death toll, but it hasn't helped many who do not trust vaccines which may not keep them entirely free of the coronavirus, but it has lessened the impact of the disease on many who have developed the symptoms. I never thought I would see such resistance to medical aid, but then a lot has occurred I didn't think I'd see. 

I grew up in a tumultuous age, the 1960s. I think the 2020s is in many ways worse. There is so much division, distrust, and hatred that it hurts my heart. I have reduced watching the news because I just can't deal with the way of the world currently. 

Since my last post, people I knew have died. Not from the coronavirus but other health and age related difficulties. It's also made me look back at friendships I lost and had to face the "for a season" view of friendship that I resisted. I always hoped for long term friendships especially in adulthood  but now, I find it is unlikely to occur for more than a few years. Perhaps some would see that as "long term."

I am grieving the loss of a friend who died in an accident in 1972, having kept that sorrow tamped down until it surfaced due to recent reflection. At the time, they were 18 and we had reconnected shortly before we were to go to separate colleges. Then I got the news that they died. I had wondered why I had not heard from them for a while. It hit me like a gut punch. Not my first experience with loss through death, but still not expected. I thought we had a relationship that would grow. But it was not to be. "A Song for Adam" by musician Jackson Browne touched my heart. It is a song I have long been familiar with but it took on a greater meaning as I thought of my long deceased friend. 

I moved in and out of  various spiritual practices, and nearly three years ago became an Associate with the Community of St. Mary, an Episcopal  monastic group based in Sewanee, TN, one of my favorite places to live in my childhood. I hope sometime this year to visit there again. The last time was pre-pandemic.

So as this part of the world faces a new season, I hope to get more discipline and blog more frequently. I doubt many will read my ramblings but who knows?

Life speeds on...

 No promises this time but I’m hoping to be more disciplined in my blog posts. The last few years have really been chaotic. 

Forging Ahead: Stressing over an academic course

Last post I mentioned I was taking an online course for the first time in a while. Since it is an undergrad course which I decided not to enroll in for credit, I thought I wouldn't be stressed. Guess what? I am. Maybe it's graduate school flashbacks or just being my own worst critic. The course I'm taking is an undergraduate Junior level English class and you'd think it would be relatively easy. However, this is not the type of course I'd taken in the past. I have taken courses online but even newer technology is currently my nemesis.  There's a "joke" between my professor and me (at least that's what I think it is) that I'm stressing over nothing, as I'm not seeking a grade or credit for this class. Still, I'm attempting to master things like transforming a typed paper into a pdf file and submit it to the professor miles away. I knew this was going to be a challenge

I just finished my first written assignment which is similar to the research papers I'd done in many classes in the past. The biggest difference being that I had to take the written document, change it into a pdf file and submit it. I had to smile when I saw a posted note by the professor about not slipping a paper under his door on campus to meet a deadline (which is tomorrow.) I thought I'd done the submission part correctly, because I did get my document transformed into a pdf file, but when it arrived to the professor's computer, he sent me a message that it was in the wrong format. Yikes. So I've resubmitted it. I hope this time it is successful.. I've had to resubmit my paper/pdf file and I'm still not sure as I write this that I got it to him in the correct format. I was told he received it, but it did end up in the wrong format and I was asked to resubmit it. So, I await feedback from him. The deadline for submitting the file is tomorrow at around midnight. 

I'm adjusting to a lot of technology that I haven't encountered before but determined to master it. This is  taking a  toll on me despite two things: 1) I'm not taking the course for credit 2) therefore, I'm not getting a grade. I'm happy about that on both counts because while I have taken online courses before, and at least one was graded, this one is stressing me! I joked (or I think I was joking!) with the professor that I feel like I'm back in graduate school. He's been helpful, but it is hard to not put stress on myself due to my past academic experiences.

Meanwhile, I'm on to the next assignment: reading a text of Christopher Marlowe's play, Edward II. Then it's to be followed by viewing a specific version of that play. I'd really forgotten how demanding some academic coursework can be, or maybe it's just, as I said, flashbacks.

Back to School at My Age? Why Not?

This isn't my first "older student" experience, but it's definitely been the most confusing and frustrating.
I'm currently enrolled in an English class taken entirely online. It's not the first online class I've taken, but I didn't expect it to be as confusing or as challenging as it is. I thought I had experience from taking several courses in various subjects like Theology online. That was pretty daunting in itself. When I came across a quote by  C.S.Lewis, (see inset) I was thinking, "Let's do this!" and forged ahead.
But technology just keeps changing, or I just keep aging or both and I've been battling to conquer this challenge to my brain cells. I'm determined to get through this!
The upside is that as a qualifying "Senior Citizen" taking the class through the English department of one of my alma maters, I get a tuition reduction. A three credit hour course (or non-credit as I am taking it with that added status) is over a thousand dollars! That discount as a Senior Citizen helped, but it's still pricey (around $225.) That's just the tuition. I'm old enough to remember when full-time students taking twelve credit hours paid about $165 in tuition costs (It was the early 1970s and I was attending the same university where I'm taking a course now.)
Then there are the book costs!
Again, while it's another cost, I learned years ago as a grad student in English in the early 1990s there are ways around the cost university bookstores make the students pay. English related books can be obtained from various sources, discounted bookstores, for example, or even your local library. I wasn't as lucky in obtaining my second grad degree in another field. Those texts weren't available at your area bookstore. It was before textbooks and certain big bookstores made a pact to sell the texts. Additionally, the new option is renting your text from the university's bookstore.
While I'm taking the course entirely online from a university about thirty miles away, I don't have to worry about parking as I did in the past. Another two points for "online learning." Changes have occurred to the physical layout of the campus I last hiked across for classes in the 1990s as an older student (though not the Senior Citizen status.) and I had more energy then. So I'm glad I don't have to compete with students parking and trudge across campus. At least not yet.
Reading posted comments made by my younger classmates about their readings of class material is interesting in the perspectives they share, as well as seeing their skills in navigating what sometimes seems a labyrinth of technology I have yet to conquer completely.
Now, pardon me while I go back to reading and research for the class.

Here I go again...

 I've returned again after noticing my last entry (not counting my two posts in August.) I think I discovered I'd abandoned my blog sometime in 2011. But actually found another I had started in 2009. I've been unable to transfer it to attach to the blog name I've kept since I started this time. Confused yet? Well, welcome to my world.
Besides my attempts at resurrecting my blog, I've also been encountering technical issues. Additionally, checking blogs I had followed only to discover that like mine, they appear to have been abandoned. So at least I'm not alone in my "life getting in the way" words.
One blog I do follow with regular interest is "A Word's Worth" written by Diane Moore (http://revmoore.blogspot.com) a gifted writer. I recommend her writings and observations if you haven't seen her blog. She's far more "disciplined" as a blogger than I've been. I'm hoping that this new attempt on my part will be more successful.
I'm attempting to figure out how often I will put an entry online. That's one of the discipline factors I've admired of Diane's blog posts. Hoping I can get a similar routine established.
I've just begun participating in an online course taught by a professor at my alma mater. More on that later. I'll only say that returning to school this time, at least I get a tuition discount for being a student of a "certain age" and not taking the course for credit.

Trying again....Still fighting "technical difficulties". HELP!

I started blogging around 2009 and due to format changes as well as everyday life issues getting in the way, I have had lapses in maintaining my blog. I've been able to keep the same name for it, (which now seems more appropriate as a title than it did back in 2009.) However, it still applies to my life AND a sign of the current state of the world which seems more chaotic than it did back in 2009.

As I start out on this writing journey again, I'm having difficulties getting my earlier posts to merge with my current ones. I've tried following various online suggestions but have been unsuccessful. I'm thinking perhaps the time gaps between my blog posts have caused retrieval to not work. I'd like to get these sorted out. If anyone wants to offer advice, I'd welcome it.

Returning

Hoping to be back soon...Adjusting to link and format changes.

What a difference a year makes! My life ran on without me realizing how swiftly the days were passing. In looking back at my neglected blog, I noticed that it has been nearly a year since my previous post, despite my intention to return to writing on a regular basis. It took a book I read in recent weeks to kick start my thoughts again and the desire to share it, even though I doubt many will view this posting.

While time passed, so did my initial enthusiasm about electronic books. Not that the format cannot be convenient and enjoyable, but I've learned if I have the choice, I prefer the traditional method. Someone I read a quote from recently said that one of the advantages of printed books is that you can "smell" the books that are published on paper. Obviously you can't do that with an electronic reader--yet. But that's not the appeal of the printed page to me versus an e-reader. I haven't quite come up with the reason I prefer one over the other. Perhaps it is because as a member of the "Baby Boomer" generation (those born between 1946-64) I was familiar with the printed page, but just "young" enough to be fascinated by technological advances to be curious.

The book to which I'm referring is shown at left, The End of Your Life Book Club by Will Schwalbe. I posted some comments about my feeling regarding this book on my Facebook page, which is closed to many viewers because I limit my access there on such a far-reaching social media. Hopefully, this blog post will be linked to it so those who view my Facebook page can read this.

Schwalbe starts a two person book club with his mother, who in her seventies is given the grim diagnosis of pancreatic cancer. Hence, the title of this book comes in. But in case you think that this book is a real "downer", it's not. It's a celebration of the bond between two bibliophiles who share books and discuss them while Schwalbe's mother is going through cancer treatments. The books are diverse an if interested, you can find at least most of the books read by this duo of book lovers listed in the back of the book.

I highly recommend this book. The only flaw I found, if indeed it is a flaw, is that Schwalbe and his mother have certain economic advantages to which not all readers of this book will be able to relate. That doesn't stop the ability to enjoy books, and good ones, like this one.

Turn the Page

I never thought I would end up being a convert to the ebook form, but having purchased a Kindle Fire shortly after Christmas, I've found it a good substitute when I just don't have the time (or space) to turn pages or find another spot in a pile for a book.

I've got enough traditional form books to stock a small library for the public, and just so much shelf space. I'm also one of those who can't ever seem to part with a book unless I have duplicates or the book just really is a bad one. Another flaw: I donate books to various sources (usually the area public libraries) but when they have their book sales, guess who comes home with at least one box full of different books than the ones donated? Right. Guilty.

      

    So, after much reading about the pros and cons of electronic reading devices (the biggest "con" being that as an electronic device, you have to recharge them periodically--something you don't have to do with the traditional book form.) There are other things to research about e-books, especially if you're trying to decide between a Barnes & Noble sponsored Nook, or Amazon's Kindle Fire.

    But my years long membership with Amazon caused me to try the newest Kindle incarnation, the Kindle Fire. When I started buying from Amazon years ago (a few months after it started up, much to the understandable dismay of small bookshops) I became one of those who found it easier to get a book ordered online and delivered to my home, than to go to my local library, put my name on an often long waiting list (if the book was popular) or have to rely on Inter-Library Loans because the local library didn't have the book I was looking for at the time.I do I understand library budgets and the need to cater to the masses who don't normally go for odd subjects--or sometimes controversial ones) having worked in three different libraries, all of which provided services to different populations specific to the needs of those populations. 

  I still support my local library and libraries everywhere. But now, I'm using them to find ebooks. It's a new era. Though I don't expect the traditional book format to go away any time soon, I do find that I'll have fewer books piled up on my tables, overflowing my bookcases, and less guilt related to giving away a book I've come to love.

One last thing....I purchased a Nook Tablet from Barnes & Noble for my upcoming birthday. 

It's Spring....Watch this space...

I've been living up to the title of this blog. Things have been chaotic in recent months, and I've been either too tired or distracted by life to post here. With the arrival of Spring, and the approach of another birthday, I hope to rectify that. Hope someone is reading this. If not, I'm just talking to myself, which is OK, too. After all, a writer's inner life is a solitary one.

Raven Sightings....

I'm in contact with a mentor from my college days in the early 1970s who now resides miles away from me in the Pacific Northwest region of the United States. Even before he retired, he admitted he enjoys "birding" and seeing some of his photos has been a wonderful thing for me, as he posts them from time to time (I have several friends and acquaintances who have developed great skill in nature photography, and I am envious.
 He especially seems fond of owls, and admittedly, it's been very rare for me to see an owl in the area where I live, though I do.hear them occasionally, and catch a glimpse of one in a tree looking wise (and probably for some hapless critter to wander by) but such sightings are not a common occurrence.
While at my place of employment the other day in a large city, I was sitting in the office of the psychiatrist whose office space I share when he is not in, which contains a large, upside down "U" shape window looking out onto a green area which slopes downward to a large culvert.
     Preparing for the arrival of my first client, I happened to look up after hearing a loud rapping at the window. Shades of Edgar Allen Poe! I'm guessing what initially attracted the bird, which appeared to be what I later identified as a Common Raven (see photo I found online)--it was a very large bird, and his rapping on the glass I surmised was due to the outer surface of the glass being a mirror reflective type. I say "he," but of course, not being really an expert, "he" could easily have been a "she." I never heard it make a sound, but shortly after its arrival, another similar bird appeared and they wandered along the ground outside the window, no doubt looking for some tasty bugs or other morsels.
   While looking up info later about my feathered visitors, I found that Ravens are the largest of the dark-winged birds, with crows being in the mid-range and blackbirds the smallest. The true blackbird has the best melody from the sources I read--if you're familiar with a song Sir Paul McCartney sang solo when he was with The Beatles, you have a sample of the true blackbird's song within that song.
   Given the location of my place of employment, though there are several office buildings within the same area, the building containing my office (and employer) is set further back from busy roads nearby, with shrubs surrounding the building, (often nesting places for ducks) as well as large stately oak trees, the aforementioned culvert, and a generally quiet setting. It has several types of "wildlife" who show up from time to time in addition to these two huge ravens.

Review: Malled: My Unintentional Career in Retail by Caitlin Kelly

Let's face it...in most areas of the United States, the economy has tanked. Everyone is scrambling for a job, and it's really difficult if you're "over-educated."
Kelly, a journalist for several publications, but on the staff of The New York Daily News, had relied not only on the steady employment she had at that newspaper, but also freelanced. However, as many who write know, freelancing, unless you've already got superb credentials, doesn't pay that well.
So, to help meet expenses, Kelly decided to try working at a department store which was opening in a local shopping mall. The wages were near minimum wage, and that didn't cover much when part of your earnings were required for parking. (Yes, employees had to pay to park at the shopping mall.)
      There were parts of her book to which I can relate. She mentioned working at a pharmacy as a teen, as did I. Low wages despite education, or being overly educated, check, same here. While I only paid for parking at some jobs briefly, it still was something I consider unfair.
     While I have never worked in a clothing store as Kelly has, I know how rude and demanding some customers can be, how children who aren't supervised by parents (something I've noticed is increasingly the case) can wander off, cause messes, possible injuries to customers by running wildly through stores. So those were parts of Kelly's book I could nod my head in agreement. As I could also agree with having worked with immature co-workers, and that's not just related to age.
   One thing Kelly admits about herself is that she has a great deal of confidence and ability to confront in most situations. Alas, that rarely is my modus operandi.
   My current job often requires confrontation, but it's more of a therapeutic tool in the situation, not one meant to be tied with etiquette.
   I enjoyed the book, and recommend it to those who really need to find out what it is like to walk in someone else's shoes, particularly those who are trying to work in retail without becoming indifferent or rude, a difficult task that Kelly admits in her book, especially when customers are indifferent to treating the salesperson like another human being. It's a lesson in learning how to be respectful, no matter what your educational or economic status in life is at this time. It can always change, given the uncertainties of life.

   

Book Review: History of a Suicide

Suicide is not a cheerful topic, yet it sometimes needs to be addressed. The belief among many therapists is that if you don't talk about suicidal feelings, you're more likely to follow through with the action, even if unsuccessful. Of course, that's also not saying it will prevent the suicide from being repeated or ultimately lethal.

Yesterday, there was a news story about a gentleman who had attempted suicides on numerous occasions, but something had prevented it. He was spotted by someone, put under observation, given medication, and every thing that could or should have prevented his suicide had been done, short of locking him in a non-lethal room for the rest of his life. In one suicidal attempt, his legs were damaged, but he remained alive, though needing artificial limbs.

Writers and artists tend to have a high rate of suicide, noted psychotherapist Kay Redfield Jamison in her book, Touched With Fire, which examines the lives of several writers and artists who ended their lives due to inner turmoil.

In fact the biting wit of writer Dorothy Parker expressed such ideas of suicide in several of her poems, the  most noted being Resume':

Résumé

Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.

But in Jill Bialosky's book about her sister, History of a Suicide: my sister's unfinished life, Bialosky tells the psychic pain (some refer to it as psychic ache) of her younger sister, Kim. Without retelling the story entirely, Kim had been in pain for some time, which was not easily pinpointed. Kim's suicide at the age of twenty-one, left a void in those she left behind who had tried to help her, most notably, her sister. Bialosky has sought for over two decades to understand why her sister chose suicide over life, and expresses the pain and guilt of those left behind after the untimely death of a loved ones in situations where there is no clear answer, while she gains insight and shares it with the reader.

Not En-Raptured

The news has been filled with various stories about the Apocalypse predicted by Harold Ramping, who has mysteriously disappeared since he predicted today would be the beginning of "The End Times" due to some mathematical calculations he had done through studying passages of the bible.

Admittedly, I stayed up late last night, tracking  a Twitter feed from New Zealand where "Herald Harold" predicted the beginning of the end of the world as we know it (somehow, that phrase always makes me think of the band R.E.M.) The New Zealanders were to be hit with a massive earthquake at 6 p.m. their time (though NZ does have more than ONE time zone...go figure.) Then successively, various regions of the world were all going to be obliterated at 6 p.m. when "their time" came. This is one of those times when the world truly ended not with a bang but a whimper.I feel sorry for those who gave up all their possessions thinking that they would no longer need food, shelter or clothing. You can either see these "believers" as "gullible fools" or have compassion for their beliefs gone wrong.

An Ogden Nash Moment or Two

I wrote poetry from about the age of eleven until thirty. Not sure why I stopped, as it never was intentional. Sometimes I blamed life, other times I thought maybe my "writer's voice" was dead. But below is one version of a poem I wrote in the mid-1970s which found their way into publication (albeit in a limited way.) A university professor who read it compared it to Ogden Nash. But I take credit for it.



                                                      

Consider the lowly bumpy toad

who lives in some dark, dank abode,

and eats his fill of bugs each day

and hibernates the cold away.

If man were like the toad would he

thrive in such mediocrity?

Or change his ways,

remove the dull,

with thought processes in his skull?

Copyright protected 1976

Review: Faith Interrupted by Eric Lax

  Something about the title of the book by Eric Lax intrigued me: Faith Interrupted: A Spiritual Journey and browsing a blurb about it piqued my interest further. So I bought a copy of the book to see what it was about.
  Like me, Lax is the adult child of an Episcopal priest. Besides a few differences related to gender, regional placements during childhood and adulthood, our stories intersect. He makes an observational comment with which I can identify. "For all my childhood, it was as if faith were part of my DNA, determining but unseen." But in many ways Lax's DNA and mine diverge, despite we both had grown up, literally, in the Episcopal Church.
 Lax's father had been an Episcopal priest for as long as Eric had been alive. My father did not become a member of the clergy until attending a theological seminary when I was in second grade, after he'd been in the U.S.Army Air Corps during World War II, and had been an automobile mechanic for many years. I can still recall my father's standard black lunch box carried by many blue collar workers back then, and the grease and oil under his fingernails when he came home from work, removing it with the rough texture of bars of Lava soap.
  Lax writes about his memorization of many parts of the Episcopal services within the Book of Common Prayer, the book of worship adapted from the Anglican prayerbook used by the Church of England.
 But Lax also recalls his time as an acolyte, something girls weren't allowed to do until I was nearly out of high school, and often that factor was left to the discretion of the parish clergy, which my father, being on the traditional, conservative side, was a bit slower to introduce.
 As a counterbalance more serious than the gender of acolytes, Lax recalls his decision to become a conscientious objector to the war raging in Vietnam, which was a real issue with males of my generation at that time because of the military draft system in place then. As a female, I never would be faced with such a hard decision. I don't want to say what happened in Lax's life as he made his way through his own spiritual decisions, because I would give away a large section of the book, but I know he and I both traveled our own spiritual journeys, again sometimes intersecting, other times diverging.
  Even if you aren't the child of a member of the clergy (be it Christian, Jewish, Muslim on Hindu...even non-denominational) if you've ever been on a search within yourself, especially trying to get in touch with the spiritual side, I recommend this book.

Ahhh.....There's a change in the weather

When I woke up this morning, a change was in the air...and by that, I mean a welcomed change. Since I live along the Gulf Coast (prefer not to disclose location) I have to deal with two seasons. I say "deal" because if I had my choice, despite the many people I know here, I'd live elsewhere. The seasonal changes in this area are but two: Green and Brown. Not-so-cold and blazing hot and humid. Living and Dead. OK, you get my point.

Having a nomadic childhood was difficult at first, but after the first couple of moves, I adjusted. Then I married someone from a town along the Gulf Coast. The warnings started. "If you marry someone from here, you'll just have to accept staying here." So far, that's turned out to be true. It's been a source of restlessness for much of my married life, and when some have suggested a "long distance marriage" I gave it a serious consideration, applying for a couple of jobs in areas where I would like to reside, but they didn't come to pass.

After mourning the loss of the brief cool weather here, I was pleased to wake this morning to chilly temperatures. Mind you, I have no desire to live where one has to contend with several feet of snow for six months or more (so I guess Alaska is out) but I WOULD like to reside where there is transitional weather, i.e. the beautiful autumnal colors I've experienced in the past.)

Because my current region of residence rarely sees snow, it causes work closures, school closures and total amazement when a mere coating of snow hits the ground. Ice does create problems, however, that my mother once grumbled about when I rejoiced in the snowy winters of childhood. She would say "Just wait until you have to drive in this stuff and you won't think it so much fun. Well, she was right.

When I first drove on ice covered roads here, I was trying to make a turn near a ditch that was about three feet in depth, but still enough to swallow part of a car if I lost control. It happened. I skidded and the comedian Bill Cosby's words rattled in my head to still my anxiety of hitting the ditch "When you go into a skid, turn your wheel in the direction of the skid." Fortunately, I didn't question that rule as Cosby did which sent his car skidding sideways--or so he relates to others. I never had that problem in other areas where ice was more prevalent. Maybe it was luck, maybe it was because the highway maintenance people (if there is such a group) went about their task of clearing the snow and ice off the road. Even though it wasn't fast enough to stop my mother from grumbling.

Death gets in the way

I'd planned to keep going daily with this blog once I restarted it a few weeks ago, but certain events got in the way. The major one was the declining health of my beloved mother-in-law who had gone into the hospital for a surgical procedure, followed by a period of rehabilitation. She seemed to be improving, and then things turned worse. A few days later, she died. Naturally, those who cared about her and loved her were stunned by the sudden change, and it opened a wound for me which involved a similar circumstance of my own mother's unexpected death a decade ago. I thought I could write about it, as I know that death is the ultimate end where we are all headed, even if there is an afterlife or reincarnation, both ideas I entertain. Even raised as a Christian, more specifically, the daughter of an Episcopal priest, I always considered the afterlife and have never really been afraid of my own death. I did worry about the deaths of those I loved, and still do, but while I thought for many years I would never survive without my parents, I discovered that I have been able to do so. My father had died several years ago close to the date of my mother-in-law, so naturally, that, too, caused a swelling of grief.

My father struggled with Alzheimer's Disease (or maybe it was those of us in the family who watched his slow decline who struggled) for about fifteen years. By the time he was in the end stages of the disease, he also had developed a cancerous growth on his lip. I remember the consult with his physician that my brother (older and only sibling) and I had. In the end, it was decided to not treat the tumor and let my father go. By that time, my brother had already begun to view our father as deceased, but even though recognition of us was seemingly impossible by our father, I still could not absorb the impact fully. It's been written in several books related to the process of grief (though some object to that word "process") that the "slow death" of a loved one gives a sense of resolution to the idea of death which doesn't happen with the unexpected death. It's hard to say, having experienced both types of deaths with my parents, which was harder.

But now, my husband and his sisters are all dealing with those things that usually follow the deaths of parents, their father having died eighteen years ago, another unexpected event, and I think we are all aware of how it feels to be as one writer titled it "An Adult Orphan."

Two mothers, same fate

It's been a week of mixed emotions. My beloved mother-in-law who had been becoming frail as the weeks passed, was admitted into a local hospital. It was decided to put a stent into a heart valve to help her circulation. The stent did its job, but I'm not sure how to perceive it. After a couple of days of improving health and a renewed appetite, my mother-in-law had a setback, and she never regained her prior improved health. Making the matter even more of a sorrow, she died on my husband's--her oldest child and only son--birthday. Her funeral was today, and it's an understatement to say we are all walking around in varying degrees of grief.