by Mary@Sanity | Oct 22, 2016 | Uncategorized
Smokey Green and Lilies
Is there a worst kind of grief?
This week we attended the wake of a young man, 26 years old. I didn’t really know Justin well at all as an adult, but I remember him as a wee child, and he and my older son Mike attended the same daycare.
Years ago, I was the next door neighbor of his aunt Carole in our townhouse development. So naturally, I got to know her sister Patty too, as she’d visit often with little Justin. And at one point Patty gave me the tip about her daycare provider, and our boys saw each other several days a week at the daycare location.
Over time we moved, Carole moved, and even though we still lived in the same town, we lost touch until the miracle of Facebook. (Miracle or curse, your milage may vary)
I luckily got to see Carole a few times more recently, and had also connected with Patty on Facebook too, so I got to keep up with their growing families. Carole’s daughter, who had occasionally babysat for Mike, was now a mother of three, and Justin had a little boy who looked EXACTLY like him when he was young.
Like everyone else after seeing the updates, I’d click “Like” or now and then make a comment about the impossible cuteness of this younger generation. Good stuff.
And every March 15th, Patty and Carole – who were twins – and I, would together enjoy a virtual birthday cake or cocktail, since we shared this birth date. (Not the year, I’m older, dammit!)
Last week, the twins and their families got suckerpunched.
I had been scrolling through my newsfeed when I read the shocking news Carole posted about Justin’s death. I then realized that an offhand comment of another local friend about some terrible traffic backup in our town – the day before – was directly related. A horrible accident involving a car and a motorcyclist. Justin was on the motorcycle. Airlifted to Boston, but it was too late.
Oh my God. OH MY GOD. How do people handle this? How the fuck is a person expected to get over this incredibly bad nightmare?
And the next naturally occurring question is, what the fuck do I say to them? How can you comfort a parent during this time? No words seem adequate. No gesture seems enough.
Several years back, I was writing an article about grief (pg 24), and was tasked to interview an expert in bereavement from New York. Great guy, very accommodating. What he said wasn’t exactly revolutionary or foreign, but he stressed that when you lose someone close, especially a child, the grief can feel worse after the first six months or so, because by then, the shock has worn off.
It makes sense, but it helps to have it spelled out. Not necessarily for the parents, but for those who surround them. I don’t have anyone super close that lost a child, not recently, and I have not been called upon to offer support. I remember the words of a mom I knew who did lose her son several months previously, she said, “you’re now a member of this club, a club you really didn’t want to join.”
But this is something that I’ve thought about, mostly because of Tom’s situation. He came closer to death than the average person, you don’t get put on a transplant list because your prognosis is rainbows and kittens. And naturally we had to accept the reality of his mortality. The day that they told us about how you get on a transplant list, how you have to have a particular MELD score was sobering. I’m going to include an excerpt from my upcoming book below to explain:
“And routine suddenly becomes learning what a MELD score is, the magic number that might put your child on a transplant list. Normal is hearing what MELD stands for, and you’re viciously snapped out of denial. Model for End stage Liver Disease. End stage?
Shit just got real. Again.
So, you might break down and cry, and that’s normal too. Mama said there’d be days like this, but you are kind of glad she didn’t live to see what you are going through. Normal is all sorts of emotions colliding around in your skull and aching chest, and yet it’s all kind of wonderful when your son wakes up from his ER nap and says, “Oh mom, Happy Mother’s Day, I’m sorry I forgot to tell you earlier.””
Yup, Tom had been sick on a particular Mother’s Day, and was in our local ER, than transported to Boston by ambulance, it was nuts.
But he woke up from that nap. He lives. We are grateful.
However, I’ve had to consider his death, then, and even now, especially since he starting driving. So – during one of my insane moments of imaging the worst, one of my gut reactions was…if Tom died, I wouldn’t want to live.
Nope. What’s the point. The world would have gone dark and meaningless.
I am lucky that cold dark fog was only in my imagination. I wasn’t dealing with real grief*. The above blurb wasn’t meant to turn this post to all about me, but rather to put this pondering of how we’d handle grief in context. The immediate thought of suicide was real for me. I’d imagine that it’s real for others when these sort of crazy imaginings turn real.
So as we were headed to the wake, when we saw the crowds of young adults outside consoling each other, I felt momentarily panicked. What was I going to say? But soon enough I figured that just being there was the first step for support, and the words would come. Or even no words, just deep hugs.
One of the first people we saw outside the funeral home was Justin’s cousin Candace. She’s the one that used to babysit Mike and then Tom when he was a baby. Such a beautiful young woman she’s become. As soon as she saw us she gave a big smile and fresh tears. Candace’s reaction was a clear answer to my previous anxiety.
We showed up.
Being a physical presence, when possible, is a huge deal to those who are suffering. It’s not about the words, it’s about being there to witness their suffering, to share it. Another excerpt below, this was my response to something pretty dreadful that I experienced during Tom’s illness:
“Sometimes life just whacks you around – hard. And even if YOU just missed the most terrible of hits, you were a witness to it, and I think it’s your duty to not brush it off. Think about it. Absorb someone else’s pain and own it – just for a brief while at least. Of course you can’t take on someone else’s loss for long, it’s impractical and not healthy. But I really think that humans owe each other the willingness to shoulder the burdens of grief by witnessing instead of turning away.”
So, at this wake, eventually we were able to locate and hug Justin’s aunt and uncle, and finally his parents. I tried to be comforting with my words, overall I think what I tried to convey was that I hoped the family could all lean on each other, watch out for each other.
In the end, that’s all we can do.
*Of course, one of the emotions when you have a chronically and seriously ill child IS grief, which I can discuss some other time.
by Mary@Sanity | Sep 27, 2016 | Uncategorized
Last December, around the time of the anniversary of Pearl Harbor, I created this little meme. Just my opinion, but I do feel strongly about this. The text in the image is a bit hard to read, so here it is:
” ‘You may say that I’m a 
dreamer, but I’m not the only one’ – John Lennon.
No John, you’re not the only one, thankfully. The world needs dreamers by the score.
And the world needs doers.
We need pacifists and we need soldiers.
We need conservatives and we need liberals.
We need faith, but it’s okay to ask questions.
We need to be open and tolerant, but still be careful.
We should retain the right to bear arms, but with smarts, humility, and zero hate.
I repeat,
Zero hate.
It’s not always ‘us vs them.’
Life cannot work with an ‘either/or’ mentality.
How can we get this done? I don’t know, I’m just one person.
I’m a dreamer.”
So, what’s this poem above (is it a poem? I don’t know…I rarely write poetry.) to do with politics? Everything! EVERYTHING! At least in my wishful-bipartisanship-thinking.
I watched the debates last night, and while sometimes my natural tendency is to almost celebrate Trump’s stumbles, because since the beginning I don’t think he’s the right choice, I still felt disappointed over all.
I do like some of the things that Clinton stands for, but I’ve never really warmed to her as a person, and that goes back to her days as the First Lady of Arkansas, when she was helping her husband campaign for President. Something about her whole demeanor when Bill was being questioned about the rumored extramarital affairs just bothered me. The one thought that kept running through my head is, “wow, she’s ambitious.”
Hey, don’t get me wrong, nothing wrong with ambition in either a male or female. But I sensed a coldness in her.
And now…*sigh*. I may vote for her.
Yes, I know I can go third party. I might.
But you know what disappoints me more with Clinton? Not the emails, not Benghazi. I hate that she cannot rise above the BS. She’s acted with some dignity, sure. But she’s also engaged in some petty shit. I wish she’d take the advice of Michelle Obama, whom she quoted last night as saying, “When they go low, we go high.”
Hillary, take the high road from here on out. Please.
Yet, regardless of who wins, and who snipes and whines, and tweets nonsense, or gloats, remember that it’s up to us dreamers and doers to also take the high road, and do what we can to support the new President. We can’t just throw up our hands (or our lunch) and say, “He (or She) is NOT my president.”
Yes, they are. Like it or not, they are the new president. They are YOUR president. Do what you can to support them, vote for other officials that will help your cause, pray for all our government, and don’t give up.
by Mary@Sanity | Sep 13, 2016 | Uncategorized
OK, sure, please do what I do on occasion, but seriously, regarding blogging, don’t do what I do! Or rather, what I don’t do. Didn’t do.
Confused? Me too baby.
Alright, that was my cutesy way of saying, when one wants to blog, one must actually, BLOG. Consistently. On A Regular Basis. (At least once a week).
Clearly I have not done that, and shame on me. Well, heaping shame on myself is silly and not productive. Part of what I speak about in this whole Sanity Search is to be pretty damn forgiving of yourself, when you’re going through times of crisis and chaos. Shame is not cool. However, sometimes we have to give ourselves a lecture, degree of sternness is variable. I needed to get stern. There was really no reason for me to not blog for so long. Was the last time really June?
You realize, as I do, that cutting ourselves slack and forgiveness must mesh with productivity. There has to be a reconciliation of oh-so-important relaxation and internal growth with getting stuff done. Of course! Laundry has to get done eventually, and even occasionally feeding of the family, or dusting a bookcase, making appointments, paying bills, getting cars repaired…the endless parade of productivity. And if you throw in earning money? It’s crazy-making, but it’s reality.
So yesterday, several things hit me at once, including but not limited to: A horrible headache, worry about one of the boys, worry about money, stress-in-general, etc. There were tears. There was thoughts of “I’m a failure!” Not fun, not pretty, but maybe necessary. Now I’m not saying that those negative affirmations about being a failure are necessary – there’s got to be a better way, yes? Of course.
I guess the best way to sum up is: When life gets shitty, you need to take time for yourself. You can rely on your faith, your friends, meditation, a good book, etc. But eventually, you might feel overwhelmed with what waits for you on your to-do list. Promise yourself that you will accomplish SOMETHING off that list, and then promise yourself you’ll do it again the next day, rinse and repeat. I’ve always noticed that taking action, even if it’s small, opens up a space inside you that releases energy and hope.
But surely, if you want to run a blog that gets read, you’ve got to WRITE! There’s always time to do what you enjoy, and if you profess to enjoy it like I do, the time and opportunity will show up.
So, regarding any negative self-talk, or beating yourself up, Don’t Do What I Do! But if you want to make a little progress, and snowball that into more progress – Do What I Did!
by Mary@Sanity | Jun 16, 2016 | Uncategorized
Belt and Mat
I’ve had many thoughts and reactions to the weekend events in Orlando, FL. But I couldn’t fully articulate them until I engaged in the Martial Art of Listening.
My overwhelming reaction was shock and sadness. And initially I was also frustrated because I had no one to talk to about it. I had been driving home alone from a great weekend event at the YMCA Camp Takodah in New Hampshire called MAGMA – the Massachusetts Gathering of Martial Artists. The radio reception in my car wasn’t that great, so I could not get many stations very clearly.
Finally, I was on the actual highway, and I could pick up more stations. I have no idea from which station I actually heard the news, I think it was some kind of top 40 pop music. What was also a bit unsettling was that the realization that it seemed like none of us at the YMCA camp this morning had heard anything about this.
We had been blissfully learning new martial arts techniques, or enjoying each other’s company, and then slowly cleaning out our cabins and preparing to say goodbye.
As I began to absorb the news, a thought popped in my head, “what good did all that neat training do to help those people in Orlando?”
I know. Not a very rational thought, but there it was.
Since Sunday, I’ve had other thoughts, memories especially, of when I was at a different martial arts weekend, this time out in Sacramento, CA. Except, making that trip was filled with anxiety. This Gathering was just a few short weeks after the planes hit the World Trade Center in Manhattan, an attack that shattered to the core. At that point our country was just as blindsided as on December 7th, 1941.
So, boarding a plane from New England to California was eerie. Essentially, we were carrying the same payload in fuel as on 9/11. But we flew anyway.
The weekend was fun, exhausting, inspiring, and more. On Sunday morning, as we were in the middle of learning some kind of technique, one of the organizers of the event announced in the microphone, “Yame!” which basically means “Stop” in Japanese (And pay attention). We stopped.
“The United States has invaded Afghanistan.”
I don’t remember what he said after. It was so unreal. We hugged each other, I know I cried a little. We also had hurried discussions with our friends from our own dojos. Was flying home going to be risky the next day? Would we give up our plane tickets, rent a van, and drive home instead? Eventually we went back to training, and even managed to enjoy ourselves as the day went on, but it was with a weird sense of both déjà vu, and determination.
The determination is what must stick with us. It must.
Training in the martial arts, writing a sonnet, welding a piece of steel, smiling at customers, comforting a child…these are things that we must keep doing, as well as we possibly can.
Working towards perfection, and knowing you’ll never achieve it means that you are learning about life, learning about yourself, improving Body, Mind, and Spirit.
Consider though, having a strong body, strong mind, and open spirit might not do you much good against sudden gunfire. As we discussed over this last weekend, one good defense against attack is to not put yourself in an area of harm. But a nightclub? Your school? Out to dinner, at work, at worship?
Shit’s gonna go down in some way. Evil can disguise itself, snake its way inside a building, or inside your heart. It isn’t easy to find total protection. But we need to keep trying. We may ban all assault weapons, we may not. We might build big walls, or not. We might segregate and deport those who we don’t trust. Or not.
I’d personally like to see a ban on assault weapons for private citizens. I don’t understand the need. But you know what, since this tragedy, I read a very thoughtful post on Facebook about NOT encouraging this kind of ban. My friend who wrote this post is smart, caring, tolerant, and knows a thing or two about weapons, he’s an Army veteran. He also considers himself “gender fluid” and bi-sexual. So he won’t be defined as “gun-toting right-wing uptight conservative” NOR as “pansy-assed bleeding heart pacifist liberal.” He’s just himself, and worth listening to.
The thing is, not many of us fit neatly into those stereotypes. Yet these labels are perpetuated. What’s my point here?
One is that my friend J. does have a strong body, mind, and spirit. He’s continually trying to learn and improve himself. Becoming the best version of ourselves should be our ultimate goal. Because I believe ultimately that a good dose of honest introspection will allow us to hear each other. Which brings me to my second point.
Mercy, Justice, Beauty
I would love for people to listen to each other. Really listen. You know, there’s a great quote by Chuck Palahniuk, author of Fight Club, “People will listen to you only when they know you’re dying, otherwise they’re just waiting for their turn to talk.” I’ve done this, I still do this. I think I have something beautifully profound to share, or something I think will help, or something funny, and I can’t wait to open my trap and say it.
It’s not so awful when all I want to do is hurry up and tell a funny joke before I forget it. It is awful however, when we interrupt each other, literally or figuratively, and insist that our opinion is the only true and correct one.
It is awful when we treat whoever else is in the conversation with contempt, just because we think they come with a particular label attached. It is terrible when we will not read what the other person has written, or posted, because we assume that what they are saying will be wrong, because of that label, because of a perception.
A few years back, I used to write for Blogcritics and for the most part, it was fun. One section of the site was for politics, and as you might imagine, was full of strong, and often unyielding opinions. I never really got into politics, so I would rarely spend much time on those pages. But every now and then, a subject would look interesting, I’d read the article, and think, “huh, not bad. They made a good argument.” I’d then – God help me – jump to the comments section and sooner or later, I’d be astounded at what I’d read there.
Sometimes there would be a counter opinion that was filled with so much vitriol and ignorance that I was convinced that the commenter could not have read the actual article. It was amazing.
Whether they did or not didn’t matter. These people came with reactions already in place. It’s frustrating, but there wasn’t much I could do.
This stubborn refusal to discuss and be open-minded has continued into my Facebook feed. No one calls me names or insults me personally, and pretty much everyone I know is decent. But there is a persistence in sharing information that is either inflammatory or not researched well and contains half-truths or lies, and continually perpetuates more misunderstandings and more intolerance. I’m pretty sure I’m guilty of that myself, but I have tried to be more aware of what I post.
I want to train in the Martial Art of Listening and not add to divisiveness. I don’t want to add to something that makes us believe that there are only two sides to a story, and whatever yours is – is wrong.
I do want to add to more loving, helping, and of course, listening.
Won’t you please join me?
Shanti and Shalom.
by Mary@Sanity | Jun 8, 2016 | Uncategorized
Benjen Stark from Game of Thrones
Can you believe I have something in common with Benjen Stark? Don’t scoff don’t laugh, and pleases don’t pour your Arbor Gold over my head! It’s true, I do share some commonality with this noble First Ranger of the Night’s Watch. Let’s see. We can both ride horses. We are loyal to our Houses, yet we also know how to sacrifice for something greater.
We are both fighters. And we both can disappear for long periods of time, leaving our loved ones and/or fans wondering whatever the bloody f@*k became of us, yet we return when the need is great. And we both have “Cold Hands.” Ha!!
Alright, I haven’t *literally* left my family for long periods of time, although the temptation has been there – LOL. However, I have in a sense, disappeared from my family here at the Sanity Search for too long.
And, like “Uncle Ben”, and in a sense, like the Hound, or Bran, Rickon, or maybe Lady Stoneheart (kinda?) I eventually show up in several episodes or seasons later, a little older and maybe with a great story or two.
So, here I am! I was not far, not far away at all. I was busy, sure, but that’s not the best excuse. Regardless, I came back.
It’s not necessarily difficult to keep up with blogging, it’s really not. I know some very clever bloggers who keep up with their posting, even when times are challenging. They might not post quite as often, maybe once a week instead of every day or two. And they cut their posts shorter, which is a wonderfully viable way to go. Great idea! Why don’t I do that?
Well, it doesn’t matter that much, the point is, I do my best to keep coming back. I don’t know if I’d refer to it as being “re-animated”, and not exactly reborn, but still I do find ways to bring new breath back to my life, and inject more life into my work.
Well, I’ve been loving the whole HBO lineup that starts with GOT and continues with Silicon Valley and Veep. And there are a few other fun shows that I watch, but ASIDE from all that, I’ve been working on several projects, including self-improvement.
I’m still at the gym, it’s a love/hate thing. I love the days when I’m not scheduled to be there, that means I don’t have to worry about eating my corn muffin early enough, or sipping my coffee too close to workout time. Who needs the agita! But after I’m done, I feel great, knowing I did something good for myself. Naturally, I feel sweaty, sore, and sometimes a bit disgusting, but overall, I’m happy I went.
And of course, there was the whole Boston Marathon thing. My guys did great, Tom finished about a half hour earlier than last year, which is awesome. Dave was doing OK except for some leg cramps, and as is custom for runners on the ALF Run for Research team, he stopped at Mile 16.8 to say hi, and have his picture taken. This is what we call the Liver Cheering Section. He has asked me to have some pickle juice ready (good for the cramps), but almost the very moment he stopped, he was overcome with nausea, along with feeling lightheaded. Definite signs of dehydration. He had to sit down in the shade for a few minutes and sip Gatorade and the pickle juice.
He began to feel better, and then not good, and back and forth. He finally made the tough decision to stop running, and head back to Boston with us (Mike, Uncle Dale, Tom’s friend Nick, and Diana, one of the great ALF staffers) on the Green Line.
Such a tough decision, and definitely disheartening. People were congratulating him on the subway, and he just quietly said thanks, although he might have explained a couple times that he didn’t actually finish, but that got exhausting to keep explaining.
** side note – keeping within the theme here of showing up eventually, and persevering, a week later, Dave and I went back to Newton so I could drop him off where he stopped, and he ran the last 9 miles, including all the hills (Heartbreak Hill is made of up several hills in Newton), and finished strong at the official finish line on Boylston Street. So, that was pretty cool.**
Assuming you’re all still dying to know what kept me busy, there’s more!
A few weeks after the marathon, Tom needed a bit of an assist finishing up some final projects for his semester. So, typing up some papers and advising him on some paintings for Illustration kept me busy, and then moving him home again, and etc. etc. etc.
I also joined a writing group, got more interested in the business side of essential oils, and all sorts of other life distractions.
I will strive to post more often
Shanti and Shalom.
by Mary@Sanity | Apr 4, 2016 | Uncategorized
You know the old joke, if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans. Snort, chuckle, yaddah yaddah.
I had plans, glorious plans, to make this website into something grand, by creating a robust platform for a community of like-minded peeps who have struggle with life’s crap. And PLEASE KNOW THIS –
The Plans are Still On!!!
Yes sir. God and I had a good laugh, or rather I had several good cries and God listened. And I’m continuing the work.
I also had plans to finally, put away all the Christmas stuff, and get out the pretty Easter/Spring decorations, and really celebrate the early spring we’ve had (in fits and starts) here in New England.
Well, it’s several days after Easter, and my sweet bunnies, chicks, lambs, and eggs are somewhat scattered here and there. Some are placed artfully and all that, and some are still in state of suspended animation (no, not really, it just sounded cool) waiting to be arranged around the house.
Fail. D’oh!
And I also planned on continuing on with the next issue of my Sanity Update Newsletter. That didn’t happen either. Crap, my life’s a drag eh?
Well, crap is as crap does, or whatever pithy sentiment applies here. The thing is, some very lousy things happened recently, and really threw me off schedule, and I did a poor job of bouncing back. Sure, I’m always counseling others that you can’t let this stuff get you down forever. You gotta get back up and take action!
BUT, as I’ve been reminding myself, it’s OK to be “down” for a while. Because of all the odd and troubling events of the last month, I have needed to really take time away from writing
and creating. Instead, I needed to make phone calls regarding this fun event… and other assorted mini-tragedies. No one was harmed in the accident, the car was parked on a Boston Street while Tom and Dave were out training for the Boston Marathon. And, adding insult to injury, they got a parking ticket too.
Good times.
So, after picking up a rental car for two weeks, negotiating with the other guy’s insurance company (Oh, I forgot to mention, the person that hit the Rav left all his info!! He gets a demerit for hitting the car, but a gold star for leaving his contact information), getting the vehicle appraised, finding out it was declared a total loss, getting a settlement check, etc, etc..
Well, we’re actually getting it fixed!
Anyway Dear Reader, I’ll close this out here and will not overwhelm you with the other shitty events of late, but I will leave you with this:
When the crap hits the fan, duck if you can, wipe yourself off, have a grand pity party, and then go to bed. Wake up and try again.
For real, taking any kind of positive action is a good, very good thing. Even if you’re just cleaning your bathroom to a fresh sparkling state, or bagging up old gently used clothes for charity, or paying just one bill. You will feel good and that feeling is conducive to creating.
Oh, and if you want to hear about the rest of the crappy life events, hit me up in the comment section, and I’ll tell ya!
Shanti and Shalom!
