Contrasts

I don't have a "theme" for this post other than that I've had some incredible lessons in contrast during the past week or so. Some contrasts are significant, others just interesting.


1. We had new carpeting laid. This new stuff is 37% sucrose! Less petroleum went into its production and it's supposed to be super easy to clean on top of that. It was a little (actually very little) sad to give up that old carpet with its stained reminders of every illness and accident that occurred on it over twenty years. Also it was nostalgic and a bit sad to find memorabilia from our children's school years while emptying closets: Papers from 7th grade, Halloween costumes made by my mom, Boy Scout uniforms, and a "I survived the Science Fair of 1993" sweat shirt being among those items. Not so sad that I actually threw out those items, of course.



2. The girl who thinks Mt. Prospect, Illinois, elevation about 25 feet, is a mountain went to Seattle where there are REAL mountains. The stiff neck I got from oggling the Cascades from my cramped airplane seat was well worth the pain. Then the next morning I pulled into the parking lot at the school where my presentation took place and saw Mt. Ranier off to the right. It's a little hard to see in this early morning photo, but that beautiful peak became clearer as the morning haze wore off. My contact at the school told me that all schools in this area southeast of Tacoma are situated so that they have views of Mt. Ranier. I can't imagine ever taking those views for granted!

3 .
While in Seattle I got to hang out with two of my favorite young men: son David who happened to be in Seattle on business and nephew Tom who lives there. Being with males, of course, I didn't visit boutiques in the elegant part of town, but did see the incredible miracle of salmon swimming upstream. Having recently marveled at the salmon's fortitude, it was a little disconcerting to eat one at Ivar's restaurant on the shore of Lake Union but the view of the Space Needle, skyline and kayaks made up for any squeamishness. Having left Chicago where it was 90º and humid, I also celebrated along with the Seattetonians their first 75º temperature in some 250 days.



4. Shortly after arriving home on Thursday, my brother and sister-in-law pulled into the driveway. Among our sightseeing ventures was a Wendella boat ride out into Lake Michigan. It may be super flat here, but nothing equals that Chicago shoreline view!

Returning from our lake cruise, we drove home via Lake Shore Drive with its spectacular lake views followed by the huge ethnic diversity of the northeast side. Passing by the street where the refugee family most recently sponsored by my church lives in their tiny apartment, I told my brother and sister-in-law how thrilled this Nepalese family is to be living free in our city. On Sunday, our church bulletin contained this link to a video of the refugee camp where they spent 17 years! What must it be like to see the extreme wealth of some people in this city when you have come from such a life?

5. We took my mom out for a couple of hours each day that my family was visiting. We went for drives and to various local restaurants. She was thrilled to be able to eat a Big Mac in the car at our village's first drive-in restaurant. A drive along Sheridan Rd. past the lake, beautiful mansions and Northwestern University was a big treat. My brother and I were nervous, however, at each entrance and exit to the car. It's hard to watch the lack of balance, difficulty with eating utensils, and general ravages of age. It's even harder to walk past the multitude of people at the nursing home who have even more disabilities than my mom.

But.....this week I have learned of the births of three new babies...two even on the same day!

So, while at this point in my life I'm almost daily being part of a lot of sadness at the nursing home, it is so wonderful to be reminded of the joys of new life.

Maybe without the contrast with old age, those new lives would not be as exciting.

Size 96 Type

Last week I received one of those e-mails typed in red, size 96 type that commanded me to pass along horrible important information to everyone I know. Seems President Obama had authorized refugee status for Palestinians who, as we all know, are ALL Hamas terrorists. Never mind the facts that we have a congress, not a president, that passes laws and that the vast majority of Palestinians are not in any way terrorists. You may have noticed that I did NOT pass along that e-mail.

Today a refugee family that our church has sponsored was at worship. A young couple and their one-year-old daughter arrived a month ago from Butan/Nepal. They have spent 17 years in refugee camps - more than half of their lives - because they are not ethnic enough for either country's ethnic cleansing situations. In spite of living in a refugee camp, the parents became educated and even speak English rather well. They are beyond thrilled to be in this country and to have rejoined family members who arrived previously. They are beyond thrilled to have an apartment...all 300 sq. feet of the studio apartment the three share. They hope someone will donate a stroller for their baby. They are eager to get work and become independent.

Today's lesson from Galatians referred to "in Christ there is no man or woman, Jew nor Greek, ...." To paraphrase, we're all in this together and God loves us all---Nepalese, Palestinian, Sudanese, and, yes, even those who are so fearful of terrorists that they can't see the needs of so many suffering people.

Maybe I should have written this in size 96 type.

Life Lessons

Yesterday was supposed to be a pretty simple, ordinary day: a regular Friday jaunt around the "lake" with my walking buddies and pick up my daughter-in-law at the airport at around midnight. In between would be grocery shopping and reorganizing the upstairs after Thursday's carpet installation. Most of those things happened - no upstairs organizing - but there were a few life lessons.

Life lesson #1: Getting old is awful. Actually, it isn't getting old that's awful as many people have very fulfilling lives way into their 90's. What's awful is becoming old and infirm.

My mom had a relatively non-serious fall on Thursday and the staff at the nursing home was being particularly watchful of her. Coincidentally, she had horrible hallucinatory dreams on Wednesday and Thursday nights that greatly disturbed her sleep. Yesterday afternoon, the staff reported to the doctor that Mom was confused, overly sleepy and weaker than normal. The doctor ordered a CT scan to make sure there wasn't a bleed in the brain.

Being the advocate stuck in the middle, I knew that Mom wasn't confused, as I had had totally rational conversation with her during my morning visit. I also knew she was extra sleepy because she hadn't slept....duh! I didn't think a CT scan was needed. The doctor, of course, made me feel guilty by reminding me that, IF she had a bleed, she would die if we ignored it.

So, at 5:00 I return to the nursing home, make sure Mom gets something to eat knowing the hospital experience would take a long time, and wait and wait for the ambulance to come. What followed was four hours of mostly waiting. We waited for a doctor to see her, we waited for CT to be ready, we waited forever for the CT report which was thankfully just fine, then waited another forever for a return ambulance. Mom is just fine today - slept well and played Bingo this morning!

HOWEVER, seeing Mom go through all the indignities of an emergency room visit, was hard. On a normal visit Mom is sitting in her wheelchair and we have interesting conversations. Her cognition is superb. (She asked "Igor" the ER aide if he was related to Stravinski and then told him all about a travelogue she had seen about Ukraine, his country of origin.) She complains about her arthritis pains but, probably in denial, I don't dwell on that.

In the ER however, it was patently clear how debilitated she is. She can't lift herself to help someone pull off her pants. She can't get her arm in a sleeve unless the assistant pushes it in for her. She was unable to sign her name on a form. The transfer from chair to gurney required two people supporting her entire weight as she made one painfully difficult step. Her arthritic hands make any fine motor action pretty impossible.

Everyday I walk past the "assisted" area at the nursing home and see people staring into space, people who have lost physical and cognitive abilities and I am so thankful that Mom's cognition is so good. Nonetheless, watching her physical abilities inexorably diminish is hard.

Life Lesson #2. People who take care of old and infirm people are gifts from God. Both ambulance crews treated Mom with dignity and humor. They talked to HER, not over her head. They were kind and professional as they moved her. IGOR was gentle, efficient and kind as he changed Mom's clothes. The aides at the nursing home spend most of their days helping people dress, eat and go to the bathroom, yet they, too, treat the residents with kindness and humor. These are not glamorous or well paid jobs, but they make such a difference in many lives.

Life Lesson #3. Beware of schizophrenic Chicago weather. Yesterday was sunny and hot....until 4:00 p.m. when we suddenly were in quasi tornado weather. A few windows were even blown out of the Willis (aka Sears) Tower downtown. Ken's office, along with major parts of the city, lost power. The winds and lightning and force of the rain were frightening---and, of course, the storm was in force while I was back and forth with the doctor and the nursing home on the phone. In an hour or so, the storm passed and it once again was sunny. As I was walking to my car after the hospital visit at 9:00 p.m., suddenly the sky was again full of lightning and I drove home through another frightening storm. As I looked at my "app" for airplane arrivals, I saw the looping pattern than my daughter-in-laws plane made as it crossed the country avoiding the storms. This pattern is supposed to continue for a few days.

Life Lesson #4. Life goes on in most pleasant ways. I got to buy a gift for a baby GIRL! My god-daughter's second child is the first "related" GIRL baby I've been able to buy for in 25 years! Two nieces, 35 and 25, are the only female relatives among people younger than I. The new baby's mom is a "niece" by desire, not blood, and she's over 30 also. It's been a long time since I walked through the baby girls' section!

Oh, what choices!!! Do I get the little polka dot dress? How about the outfit with matching leggings....in size 3 months! Which shade of pink is prettiest?

I love, love, love the former and current little boys in my life, but pink is sure fun to buy!

And its wonderful that there are new little babies to rejoice in while being so aware of the other end of life.

Our Pot of Gold

This weekend I had breakfast in Michigan.....for three days. Forty years ago (!!!!) I first met a group of women who would become life-long friends. We were all in our 20's and we all worked in the same school district. Most of us were Spanish teachers but we "adopted" teachers of other disciplines who were (in the words of our supervisor) "our kind of people."

As time went on some women left to stay home with children, a few moved to other school districts, and many continued working in the district until retirement. Remarkably, all but one stayed in the area.

During our working years--and in spite of no-longer all working together-- we celebrated each other's marriages and children and mourned together a number of losses. In the late 60's Bonnie, our departmental "right arm" and her husband, bought a cottage in Michigan and, soon after, "el escape" was born. While most of us had young children at home in the 70's and 80's, we lived for our couple of days at Bonnie's every summer. Family and work responsibilities melted away as we had thigh measuring contests (really!), re-enacted the Spanish version of "The Three Bears" for our non-Spanish speaking friends, drank countless bottles of "vino", and talked so much that our mouths hurt!

Then lift caught up with most of us and "El Escape" was on hiatus for a few years...and, though we still saw each other for events, we missed our regular times together and especially our yearly "escape"!

When the youngest member of our group turned 50, we got together for a celebratory breakfast and "Club 62" was born. For 12 years we have been meeting on the second Saturday morning every month for breakfast. Bonnie even drives 2- 1/2 hours from Michigan to join us for breakfast. It's that important! We're no longer talking about boyfriends, weddings and babies but we find much conversational fodder with adult children, grandchildren, travels, and caring for aging parents.

"Shop til you Drop" at the outlet mall in Indiana has become a yearly tradition along with 4th of July fireworks on the local golf course. The best thing, however, is the metamorphosis of "El Escape" into "Breakfast in Michigan." Bonnie stays put and we all travel the 2-1/2 to "have breakfast" for three days.This year the names of restaurants just sum up the weekend.

Dinner Friday was at "The Ideal Place" in Benton Harbor. Could it be more ideal???Saturday breakfast was at "The Wright Place" and it sure was right!Sunday appetizers under Bon's grape arbor was very appropriate! Bon is working to produce grapes to make up for the gran candidad de vino that we have consumed over the years.Saturday night's dinner was at a wonderful but not aptly named restaurant in Dowagiac. We did, however, get a "sign" while dining. There was a brief rain followed by this sight outside the window.

Look carefully to the left of the rainbow and you'll see that it's a double rainbow!

Then note the moon under the full rainbow!

What a blessing 40 year friendships are!

How wonderful that we even had a "vision" of the pot of gold we have found with these long time friendships.

Almost makes getting old exciting!

Almost............

Is there an "app" for that?

Today I joined Facebook, got the Facebook "app", and have spent way too much time finding "friends" and getting acquainted with the whole idea.

I also read this article on multitasking and technology from today's New York Times...and I'm a bit scared.

I just love my iPhone, but I am afraid that some of the things mentioned in the article are happening to me.

Example One: When visiting my mother at the nursing home I often hear a "ping" in my purse as I get a notification of a new e-mail. I continue my conversation with my mother, but lurking in the back of my brain is that unseen e-mail. It nags at me to the point that I check my e-mail before I even turn on the ignition in the car - even though I know it's probably just AA telling me of some great new airfares.

Example Two: When I awaken and can't get back to sleep in the middle of the night, I often go to the living room, lie on the couch and read until I'm drowsy again. While on the couch I often hear a "ping" from the kitchen where my phone is hooked up for its nightly feeding. It takes a great deal of effort to not get up and see what exciting e-mail just arrived...even though I know that the only e-mail I get at 3:00 a.m. is a Viagra ad sent to "Mr. Alice."

Example Three: I'm anticipating one of my favorite yearly events this weekend...three blissful days with my long time teaching friends up in Michigan. As I look forward to gossip, wine, silliness, and wonderful lake scenery, there is a little nag in the back of my head. I don't think AT+T reception is good at my friend's lake house! In spite of being surrounded by nine incredible friends, part of me worries I might be delayed in getting those wonderful messages from pharmaceutical companies, Russian bride agencies and symphony orchestras in far-flung cities.

Example Four: I'm driving and hear that "ping". No, I don't look at the phone while I'm driving...but....if I'm stopped at a light I have to take a quick peek at the clothing store ad that certainly couldn't wait fifteen minutes.

It has been suggested that I simply go to "preferences" and turn off the "ping" but I can't and I'm worried about the fact that I can't.

What's next? Will my "ping" addiction lead to stronger "drugs"...maybe one of those awful BlueTooth things in my ear? Will I need to check the new Facebook page twenty times a day? Will I start to get up off that couch to open my e-mail at 3:00 a.m.? Will I become as distracted and poor-performing as the article suggests?

Is there an "app" for iPhone addictions?

How Sputnik Changed My Life

Kevin leaves tomorrow to drive to a summer music program in California. He has filled most of the living room with the things he will cram into his car---percussionists and avid bicyclists don't travel lightly---and he is very excited.

I still get excited before beginning any trip, but there's nothing like the excitement of being a young adult about to embark on an adventure. Ken still talks about his motorcycle trip to Arizona while in graduate school. Our friends have all at some time shared their early travel adventures. Today I'm remembering my trip to Austin, Texas.

The year was 1965 and our country was still in post-Sputnik shock because the Russians had dramatically shown us just how far behind we were in science, math, and foreign languages. The government reacted by passing "The National Defense Education Act" which made it possible for many teachers to attend summer institutes to upgrade their skills. For most teachers this meant spending six pleasant but uneventful weeks on a college campus. For me it was life changing.

I had been accepted as an undergraduate to a unique NDEA institute for pre-service Spanish teachers at the University of Texas. Little did I know that this big fish in my little college's pond was about to be a very tiny fish in a very diverse and much more advanced pond.

The early shocks were to be expected. As a commuter student at my college, dorm living was brand new. Meeting multi-cultural classmates and teachers from all over the country was both exciting and terrifying----they were all so much more fluent than I and had so much more experience in the Hispanic culture! I was younger and definitely less worldly than they. Speaking Spanish 24/7 was, to say the least, a challenge. Sometimes I got in the shower and cried while talking to myself in English because I was so frustrated. Not the least of the shocks was the temperature in Austin in the summer!

Slowly my comfort level increased. I realized I was learning language methodology from Dr. A. who had written the best-known book on the subject. I saw that methodology in action as I observed Sr. B. teaching 3-year-olds and 5-year-olds and watched Sr. W. teaching middle school and high school groups. I struggled with taped exercises in the language lab and by the end of the summer had the trilled "rr" down cold. Before that summer I wouldn't have known a fricative or a labial if I had tripped over one, but by the end of the summer I could talk intelligently about comparative linguistics . Evenings spent singing Mexican and Spanish folk songs were great fun and provided music resources that I still refer to. Best of all, I was no longer afraid to talk with the teachers and participants...24/7...en español.

This past weekend I attended the annual Chicago area assembly of the Lutheran Church. The theme was "You Shall Be My Witnesses" and my weakness in the whole area of witnessing to what God has done in my life has been on my mind.

So here I witness to what God did in my life and how he used Sputnik, of all things, to direct me on a career path. In August 1965 I sure didn't know that the pleasure I got from watching little kids learn Spanish would push me towards my first job with 5th and 6th graders. I sure didn't know that the linguistic knowledge would later lead to writing a Spanish phonics book. Hidden to me was how the music and games and culture I learned that summer would become the foundation of my teaching and later the foundation of what I teach to teachers. Little did I know that the fluency developed that summer would enhance my life professionally and personally. Little did I know that the post institute trip to Mexico City would be the first of myriad visits to that country.

Little do we all know of how God is going to use events in our life but, when we look back on those adventures we might have been a bit afraid to start, we begin to understand what God's plan was.

Thanks for Sputnik and NDEA, God!

Thanks for music adventures for my younger son. Thanks for civil engineering adventures for my older son, ¡Vayan con Dios en sus aventuras, Kevin and David!

To Facebook or Not to Facebook

....that is the question.

It started innocently enough. Last summer my elementary school class celebrated its 50th anniversary. People snapped photos. Those photos were put on Facebook and I was invited to be someone's friend to see the pictures. I greatly enjoyed seeing old friends at the reunion, but didn't feel the need to relive the experience via Facebook. Saying no was easy.

Later another friend invited me to be her "friend". She had some interesting materials to share via Facebook and I was tempted, but again said no.

Recently I've been thinking that I should be on Facebook because it would be a good way to connect professionally with people who attend my seminars. It would be a way for people who might want me to do some consulting to find me. It's tempting....but I am still hesitant and so far haven't acted on this idea.

Then Sunday we had a "ministry minute" during the church service. The speaker was a youngish single man whom I fully expected to talk about new opportunities for people in his age range. Maybe he had espoused a new ministry to the hungry, the homeless or the ill. Well, he did espouse a new ministry, but not one I was expecting. Our church's new ministry is to be a presence on Facebook!

So, after I got up from falling off the pew, I thought, "Is it time?" If Jesus were here today, would He be on Facebook?

Is it time? My older son, in spite of being in the prime demographic, wants nothing to do with Facebook. My younger son is on Facebook and, I suspect, would absolutely not want to be my Facebook "friend." I respect their decisions and certainly want them to have the privacy to deal with their friends in the ways that they prefer, but would a Facebook mom with no immediate blood relatives as "friends" seem like an unlikable person?

What if my wild life style of watching Grey's Anatomy, Jeopardy, and occasional doses of HGTV or Say Yes to the Dress became public knowledge?

What if people said something negative about my seminars for the whole world to see?

What if.....What if.....

So, dear readers, please weigh in on this big decision.