In my own little corner...

More on Joe

I was able to end my business trip early, and am flying home a day before originally scheduled, so that I can attend Joe’s funeral on Saturday. It took a little bit of googling to get the info, because I hadn’t been able to find his obituary online, and I didn’t want to disturb his family. After jumping through some internet hoops, I got a phone number for the funeral home handling his service, and phoned them to find out the details. While I was speaking with them, I asked them to let Nurse Jenny know that the entire TDB community was thinking of her and her family, and missing Joe.

My original plan had been to head straight from the airport to Joe’s small town, spending Friday night there, and then head to the funeral Sat. But after a good night’s sleep, common sense reasserted itself in my brain. It’s an afternoon funeral, only 3 hours away, and I don’t have the spare change for hotels like I used to. So I’ll be giving myself a good night’s sleep tonight, and leaving early enough in the morning to arrive without feeling rushed, and to leave myself time for a leisurely lunch. This will also give me the opportunity to print out the poem I wrote, for Nurse Jenny and the kids, and to print out the TDB postings and comments, as well, in case they’ve not done that for themselves.

The service will be at Joe’s church, not at the funeral home. I think this is the first funeral I’ve been to since my Mom’s, so I’m not sure how it will feel, for me. Especially since, as far as I know, I’m the only TDBer that will be able to make it there. 

As I was hovering between wakefulness and sleep on my first flight this morning (we left Medford at 625am, and I am NOT a morning person), I kept thinking there has to be some significance to the fact that Joe joined his savior on Ash Wednesday. 

For Christians, Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of the Lenten season, a 40-day period during which we are to ponder the sacrifice of Christ on our behalf. For many Christians, it is also a time for making personal sacrifices, denying ourselves as a means of solidarity with Him who denied everything for our sakes. Lent leads right into Good Friday, which somehow always sounds like a misnomer when you think about what happened on that day, and Good Friday is followed by Easter.

As I was falling asleep on the airplane this morning, the thought that flashed through my head was that Joe didn’t have to wait for Easter this year. He’s already celebrating the resurrection of his risen Lord, just as he did every day. And then I thought that perhaps Easter will be particularly poignant for his family this year, since Easter also reminds us that just as Christ rose from the dead, so will His people. 

Joe is sleeping now, for awhile, where there is no pain, no illness, no damage from strokes; where there is only eternal love. We who are still awake will miss him, but we’ll see him again, and we’ll celebrate Easter together with him, when the fullness of time has come.

Until that day, we’ll hold him in our hearts, and rejoice that we had him in our lives.  

My friend Joe

Joe Comer is a retired AF guy, vietnam vet, and A/G preacher.  He's also a ham radio operator, and spent a few weeks in MS last summer helping with the aftermath of Katrina.    He loves to fly (has his own small plane), and loves to share his thoughts on the internet. That's how I met him.  He was a regular contributor to a milblog I'm part of, The Daily Brief .   

It was thanks to a post on TDB that I learned of his current precarious status.  My friend Joe had a stroke, and is in hospice care.  My immediate response was tears, and a prayer for his family.

For all that he's a crusty old country boy, Joe has a heart of gold, and one of the sweetest emails I've ever gotten in my life was from him last spring/summer, where he told me that he and his wife (Nurse Jenny, as he calls her online) considered me to be another daughter, even though we'd never met.

When I was driving back from FL last sept, we intended to meet, but he was enroute to Atlanta to buy more ham radio equipment the day I passed within 20 miles of his home, and we just never connected.

And now he's in hospice, which means he's just waiting to hear those magic words: "Well done, thou good and faithful servant." and I find that everytime I think about it, I'm crying for the loss of a man I've never met, that I've only known as words on a computer screen, but who somehow was able to send compassion and caring across the void we call cyberspace, and touch another person's heart.

Godspeed, Joe. Vaya con Dios.

Please link your heart with mine, and say a prayer for Joe and his family, and his cyberfriends.
Thank you.

Melody Beattie

From her book: The Twelve Steps for CoDependents

"We are responsible for stopping our own pain, facing and dealing with our own fears, saying no, giving ourselves what we need, setting boundaries we need to set, and making choices and decisions we need to make to take care of ourselves - in any circumstance or situation."

and on another page...

"We are powerless over so much more than anyone taught us. Accepting that means we're free to own our true power in life, which is also so much more than anyone told us. We have power to think, feel, solve problems, set boundaries, set and reach goals, create, heal, take care of and love ourselves unconditionally, and love those around us unconditionally. 

What am I powerless over?  Almost everything I want to control."

Appreciation

It's always nice when someone says "thank you."  It's even more nice when they say the same thing to my boss, about me. 

I had an email this morning, asking me if I could fit 11 in my class on Friday, instead of the normal limit of 10.  *shrug*  Sure, why not?

I checked with a co-worker, and it's not a big deal to do it... makes the class a wee bit more challenging, but it can be done.  So I emailed them back and said "sure, we can do that."

It is so totally not a big deal, to me.  And yet, when I checked my email tonight after class before heading home, there was another email, this one saying that I'd been awarded a "Client Focus eRecognition Certificate."  I checked it out, and it was from the person who asked me to fit the extra student in my class, thanking me for making that possible.

How cool is that?  *insert surprised smile here*

and right before my boss needs to do my annual review.   Talk about timing. 

I have to admit that I'm slightly perplexed, though. I was just doing my job, taking care of the customers.  Is it really such a big deal that it deserves an "eRecognition Certificate"?

Military Urban Legends

In case anyone tries to tell you (or you see/hear/read on the news) that female soldiers are dying in Iraq of dehydration, because if they drink water in the evening, they'll be raped on the way to the latrine, please tell them they're full of hot air.  You can read about the accusation, with a rebuttal, here.   In the interest of full disclosure, I should tell you that the link is to a military blog, so its primary interest is to rebut the accusation.  The author of the rebuttal has also served in Iraq.

I know that not all of the people reading this post agree with our current activity in the Gulf, but that's not the issue here. The issue is lies being presented as truth.  This particular rumour (accusation would be another word for it)  is patently un-credible.

There are a few major stumbling blocks to the theory:

1. The person perpetrating the rumour states that a female Master Sergeant (Army E-8) died of dehydration because she was afraid of being raped, and that it was covered up.  Only one small problem - no female Master Sergeants have died in the Gulf. (oops) 
2. To die from dehydration, one would have to ingest no water for a prolonged period of time, and there would be noticeable health issues cropping up before resulting in death. 
3. If one *did* get up in the middle of the night to use the latrine (located well away from the sleeping quarters), one got dressed, including kevlar armor, and carried one's weapon along (either M-16 or 9mm pistol).   

These are just the easy issues - there are others, many of which are listed on the blog I linked to.
Make up your own minds when you hear the rumours - I'm certainly not trying to tell anyone what to think. I'm only asking that if you DO hear a rumour like this, you consider the source (a disgruntled/disgraced US Army officer) and the credibility of the story (the 2 issues I pointed out are not the only issues).

As a US Army veteran (it predates my Air Force time), I am offended by these allegations, and by the unquestioning acceptance they are receiving in some quarters. 

hat-tip to The Daily Brief

Who's Afraid of Opera?

Joanne Jacobs shares a story from Bennett, CO.  Seems a music teacher showed elementary students segments of a video series designed to acquaint children with opera.

Sounds like a noble goal to me.  And perfectly in keeping with her tasks as a music teacher.

Unfortunately, the segment she showed was about the opera Faust. It included scenes with Mephistopheles, a scene showing a man being killed with a sword, and references to suicide.  And some parents came unglued.

"Any adult with common sense would not think that video was appropriate for a young person to see. I'm not sure it's appropriate for a high school student," Robby Warner said after two of her children saw the video. Another parent, Casey Goodwin, said, "I think it glorifies Satan in some way."

The teacher had to send a written apology to the parents of the 250 students she showed the videos too, and has suffered character attacks, as well. Some have even called her a satan worshipper.

You can read the news article here.

I've got to say, I consider myself a fundamentalist Christian, and I think the parents were out of line.  Maybe Faust isn't the right material for the age group she showed it to, but that doesn't make her an evil person.

It's how you say it...

My cyberfriend Shannon has an entry on her blog where she's talking about "there but for the grace of God..."  It's a good post, as her posts usually are, but there's one sentence in it that bothers me enough that I've been thinking about it off and on since I read it yesterday. So I decided to blog about it, but I also decided that I would leave her a comment as well.  This blog entry is an extension of the comment, I think.  Or I'm using that comment as a jumping off point for continuing my thought process.

Light a Single Candle

As a child, I ran across the quotation "Better to light a single candle than to sit and curse the darkness."

Carlos Leite, a Brazilian who lives on the edge of poverty, seems to have done just that.

Illiterate, he has amassed a library of 10,000 volumes, which he has made available to his community of Sao Goncala.  Brazilians, on average, read less than 2 books per year (America reads 5, according to the article).   There are few or no public libraries there, and although the government has launched a campaign to build public libraries, the wheels of bureaucracy grind slowly.

Leite couldn't wait.

"Those of us who grew up here, we know what the needs of the community are," he said. "I stopped and thought, 'Wait a minute. There's not a single library. The schools have libraries, but there's no public library.' So I said, 'Let's make this dream come true.' "

July 11, 2005

Dear Mom...

You remember, I started this blog last year to have a place to put my thoughts and experiences from my whale-watching class in Massachusetts.  Last year I barely posted anything, because it was such a jam-packed week. They have to make sure we *earn* the 3 college credits we're getting for the class, after all.  :)

It was such an incredible experience last year that I chose to take it again this year.  It's been interesting, comparing the differences between the 2 trips.   

Independence Day

June 7, 1776:

"RESOLVED:  That these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent States, that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally disolved."

July 4, 1776:

IN CONGRESS, JULY 4, 1776

The unanimous Declaration of the thirteen united States of America

When in the Course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness....

... We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by the Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States; that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do. And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.

Reliving Childhood

Summer days.  Blissfully free of worry, no thought more pressing than "what's for dinner?"   These are my normal childhood memories.   I couldn't really tell you which summer any particular memory is from... the summers run together on the movie screen in my mind, for the most part.  But one summer stands out.   It was from early in my childhood... I was maybe 5 years old? I think it was after I'd been to kindergarten, so that would make me 5.

Mom stayed home with us kids, although other moms in the neighborhood worked.  So during the summer days, our house was the gathering place for the neighbor kids.  That summer, Mom put us to work.

We lived in an older house, and Mom decreed it was time to change the wallpaper.   She always preferred wallpaper to paint.  The house had been built in the 1930s or thereabouts, and had plaster walls.  I remember stripping wallpaper off those walls.   All of us helped, including some of the neighbor kids.   I've got vague memories of brushes with water, and huge putty knives/scrapers, and lots of elbow grease as we ripped the wallpaper all the way down to the plaster.  When the upstairs hallway was fully stripped, Mom brought out a pencil, and we all signed our names on the wall, before she papered over it.   I was very impressed with being allowed to write on the wall - I usually got in trouble for things like that.

Mom wrote the current date, and a statement about how all of had worked so hard for however many days to do this job, and we each signed our names. Then we were finally released to go find other, more enjoyable ways to work up a sweat, while she papered over her magnum opus.

I'd not thought of that summer in decades, until today.

Inevitability, part 2

April 29, 9am. I realized I was starving, bundle of nerves notwithstanding, and since I was incredibly early for my appointment, I checked around for restaurants in the vicinity that served breakfast. My only choice was Waffle House, so I had a waffle and coffee to kill time. It’s amazing how much my nerves stopped jumping once I was no longer hungry.

I was probably about half-calm, overall. I had worked hard the past week to not freak out, and to keep my reactions and thoughts positive. I kept in touch with my friend B, the breast cancer survivor, and she thought I was being amazingly calm. It helped that I had been through this back in the mid-80s… that made it easier to convince myself that this would have a positive outcome, as well. And if it didn’t? I would deal with that when I needed to. No sense borrowing trouble, I told myself.

 I did call another friend, one night when the doubts were getting the better of me. We talked about it, and I told her that 95% of the time, I was ok, and I knew it would all be ok. But that other 5% was killing me, when it would kick up. She told me she would believe for the other 5%.  :-)

We talked about what I was expecting on Friday, and I told her that while I knew they couldn’t know anything for sure until the lab results, I was hoping they could give me their best guess when we were done, so I knew whether I needed to worry or not. I figured it would be 3 business days before we got the lab results back, which meant it might be as late as the following Wed before I knew anything, because of the weekend. I didn’t want to spend another 5 days fighting the doubts.

Breathing deeply, I entered the clinic. I had come prepared to wait this time, remembering to bring in my reading glasses so I wouldn’t have to strain my eyes to read the paper or magazines in the waiting room. No sooner had I gotten comfortable then they called my name for the in-take procedure. We went through all the identification process again, verifying insurance, etc., and I managed to keep the in-take counselor giggling throughout.

I had made it my personal goal to be as friendly and cheerful as I could, and to try and make everyone I saw there smile, or even laugh, if I could. In my mind, I could still see Mom telling jokes to the anesthesiologist as they wheeled her away for her bladder surgery.  I figured that was a pretty good model to follow. And I figured that the other ladies who were  there for exams  were nervous too, and if I could get them to chuckle, it might make it more bearable for them, as well.

Inevitability

I'm thinking that some things are inevitable as we get older.    Like the white hairs that are sprinkled across my head (only sprinkled, not frosted yet), or the reading glasses that are now almost always necessary for me, or the multiple re-exams due to abnormal test results.

Stunned

Dear Mom...

You remember Karen, my friend from college? The one who lived just down the road from us, but I never met her until we were both 300 miles away from home?  I just found out that she died, back in 1996.  That's all I know, right now.

I immediately hit the internet, and Googled for her name. There was only one hit, and while it was about her, it didn't tell me anything.   Since those folks knew her, though, I shot them an email asking if they could share any details. We'll see if they respond.

Makes sense to me!

Every act of conscious learning requires the willingness to suffer an injury to one's self-esteem. That is why young children, before they are aware of their own self-importance, learn so easily; and why older persons, especially if vain or important, cannot learn at all. -Thomas Szasz, author, professor of psychiatry (1920- )

Papal Musings

In 1978, I was a freshman in college, away from home for my first-ever extended absence, and still learning to fit into my new world.  The dormitory where I lived was a temporary building, built to handle the influx of students following WWII, when the GI Bill swelled the ranks of America’s colleges and universities. In my alma mater’s case, “temporary” apparently means about 50 years, because it was only in the last decade that my old dorm was finally torn down.

At any rate, the dorms were divided into wings, and there were maybe 10-12 rooms per wing.  In these rooms lived 20-24 freshmen women, and  one senior, who was our Resident Assistant (R.A).  We were from all over, but had a heavy concentration of mid-westerners, due to the college’s Midwestern location.  Mostly Protestants or agnostics, but one of our dorm-mates was a devout Catholic.

One day, she came into the room and announced: “The Pope is dead.”  This meant nothing to me, although it obviously meant a lot to her.  With the others, I followed the news about the Papal funeral, and the election of a new Pope.  Several days later, she came into the room and announced again: “The Pope is dead.”

We told her that was old news, but she said no, the *new*  Pope was dead, and they would be selecting another one.

This was different. This was interesting. And then the newest Pope, only the third Pope that I had ever really known about in my life (and the knowing had only begun with her original pronouncement) was elected.  A Polish Pope.

Is it really worth the savings?

According to my newest email from Delta Airlines, my preferred carrier (on which I've travelled over 250,000 miles in the last 10 years),  effective March 15 they will no longer have pillows on their flights.

Thus they go the way of American Airlines, who had already removed their pillows. Apparently, they can save hundreds of thousands of dollars by not providing any pillows at all.

Unfortunately for me, airline pillows were what I used for lumbar support in their crappy coach seats.  Two pillows behind my back, and I was comfortable for the entire trip, and didn't have a back ache at the end of it.

Phooey.

Sleep, that knits the ravelled sleeve of care...

I've slept most of today, I think.  I get up periodically and walk the dogs, and I made it to the bank to deposit my perdiem check so I could make my car payment. Other than that, I've slept. And it's helped a lot, I think. 

I don't feel nearly as miserable as I have on other days.  I was supposed to have a doc's appt today, but I slept through it (oops). I'm gonna change docs anyway - there's a new one opening up about 2 doors down from the apt complex, so I'm gonna switch to him. Way more convenient, especially when I'm not feeling 100%.

I told my boss I'm staying home Monday/Tuesday, and on Wed I'll see how I"m feeling and decide then whether or not I'll go in.  It feels great to just be a zombie, believe me.  Now if I could teach the dogs how to cook for me, I'd have it made. LOL

Spring Fever

After 2 weeks in the frozen north… well, semi-frigid Chicago,  to be more accurate, it was like stepping into Paradise to walk outside the airport yesterday into 66+ Farenheit weather. My daffodils have all sprouted, except for the one pot where the squirrels dug the bulb up the day after I planted it (sprouted, but not bloomed - not sure why)

I’m hungry for color, after the overcast gray of Chicago.

I’m hungry for warmth, after the bitter chill of the windy city.

It’s spring.

Correcting Mistakes

"The sages do not consider that making no mistakes is a blessing.
They believe, rather, that the great virtue of man lies in his
ability to correct his mistakes and continually make a new man of
himself."

*Wang Yang-Ming (1472-1529) Chinese Philosopher

or to put it another way, "fall down 6 times, get up 7 times."  Or to quote Michael Card: "He gives us each new moment, saying you're free to begin again."