Love story for the ages

Lucy and John

It is one of my favorite things: to find an unforgettable memoir that just grabs me and gives me a lot to think about. And yesterday, I finished one that I can recommend without reservation: The Bright Hour by Nina Riggs. I not only enjoy all memoirs, but especially those that are written in extremis. Nina was a gifted writer and had the easiest way of talking about everything, with humor, as well as dying of breast cancer at 39. So, of course, I went online to find out more about Nina. I learned about her husband and children, and how much love was present in them all and for each other.

A couple of years ago, I read When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi, which is along the same lines: Paul was only 37 when he died of lung cancer, never smoked, and was a renowned neurosurgical resident at Stanford. I have read his book twice now and will, I'm sure, read it again. He and his wife decided to visit a sperm bank in order to help his wife get pregnant before he died. He was very ill when his daughter, Cady, was born, but he lived long enough to be there. It's a tremendously inspiring book, too. I also recommend it highly.

But the love story: Nina was so worried about how John would be able to deal with her death that she asked him to get ahold of Lucy Kalanithi, who had been through the same experience that he was facing, and could possibly help him. Nina and Lucy were already friends because of an essay Nina had published in The Washington Post. Lucy had written her a fan letter and wrote a glowing blurb for the unpublished book, and sent Nina a private email two days before Nina died in a hospice. John read the email to her, and Nina begged him to get ahold of her afterward.

John did, and over the period of several months of intense emails, they decided to meet. Lucy was scheduled to come to a conference less than an hour away from John's home. That was the beginning of this part of the love story. The Washington Post wrote a wonderful article about it, which you can read in its entirety here. (Note: I subscribe to the Post, so I don't have a limit on what I can see. Please let me know if you have a problem reading it, and I'll try to find another way.)

For me, it was a Valentine's Day reward, a wonderful book and a real-life love story all at once. (P.S. I found, after some more digging, that the couple broke it off last summer, so the love story might not be still happening. Too soon?)
:-)

Anniversaries

September 16, 2018 moon, with robin singing,
as captured from Dublin, Ireland, by Deirdre Horan.

I was captivated by this picture, which I found on yesterday's EarthSky News, and I decided I could use it in this post if I gave proper credit to the photographer. The juxtaposition of the robin singing its little heart out, with the quarter moon in the background, is very special.

Every year when September 17 rolls around, it gives me a little jolt of remembrance. That was the day, 53 years ago, that my son Stephen died suddenly of spinal meningitis. He got sick in the afternoon and died that very night. I suppose that's one reason why it took me so long to recover from that terrible event, but it's never easy to lose a child, at any age. Since he was an infant, just over a year old, he was more than part of my daily life: he and I were together from the time he awoke until he went to bed.

It took a long, long time for me to be in the presence of a baby again. For more than a decade I would look away to try to keep the pain at bay. Then one day, without my noticing when exactly, I found myself looking at the sweet little chubby legs of a baby, and... the pain didn't come up. They say that time heals all wounds, and maybe it's true, but sometimes the scars left behind are debilitating.

Somebody asked me yesterday if I had any kids, and I was forced to relay the sad news that yes, indeed I did, but neither one of them is still living. When someone asks, I can feel the hesitation about having to tell the tale, but my sons were both wonderful people and I will never forget (or forsake) them as long as I'm alive.

:-(

Quick post

Yesterday's sunrise

Well, it happened again. I got almost through the whole day without even thinking of putting up a Tuesday post. I woke this morning at the usual time and almost immediately began my day with a flood of tears, as I learned that one of my long-time favorite bloggers had to put her beloved pet to sleep over the weekend.

That's the real problem of loving them: they just don't live as long as we do and we must be prepared to say goodbye to them all too soon. I wish there was something we could say or do to ease the pain of loss, but there really isn't, other than to acknowledge that we all go through it if we give our love to each other without holding back. They give us so much, but saying goodbye is never easy.

Emily Dickinson expressed it in this poem:

My life closed twice before its close;
It yet remains to see
If Immortality unveil
A third event to me,
So huge, so hopeless to conceive,
As these that twice befell.
Parting is all we know of heaven,
And all we need of hell.

I send my blessings out to all who grieve, including myself.
;-(

It could have been me

The square in the Sultanahmet district of Istanbul

I took this picture when I visited Istanbul last February. Yesterday a suicide bomber detonated his explosive in this very square. Here is a BBC article that shows the place, and I went back through my photos and found this one, which is, if not in the exact spot, at least very close to it. The article shows where it was, and I recognized it immediately.

At least ten German tourists were killed and another 15 injured, according to that article. Yes, it could have been me, or any of the people in my group, who could have been killed. The world is becoming more and more hostile and it seems that nobody is safe any more. I was worried about being so close to Syria when I went to Turkey, but there were no signs at all that I wasn't perfectly safe. No place in the world is "perfectly safe" any more, is it?

And to add to my existential angst, the world having lost David Bowie this week at the relatively young age of 69, is tragic. I understand he knew his days were numbered and unveiled his final release, Lazarus, just a few days earlier. A carefully planned farewell. Blue skies, David.
:-{

Last day in Florida

Norma Jean swimming laps

I enjoyed today's swim very much, since the intense heat is almost back to normal Florida temperatures. Which is still WAY too warm for me. I looked this morning at Bellingham's temperature, and was surprised to see that it got down to freezing level! Forty degrees cooler than the Sunshine State. Tomorrow will be a travel day, and then I'll go out on my Thursday hike in what looks to be weather a little on the cool and wet side. No problem for me.

This morning after our swim, Norma Jean realized that she couldn't find her wallet. She didn't worry too much, thinking it had been misplaced. It wasn't. She didn't lock her car last night after we returned from the movies, and it was stolen out of her console. Fortunately there was nothing else of any value except, of course, her credit cards and driver's license. When we realized that it was indeed gone, she called the security police in her retirement community and the police.

After the police arrived, other neighbors saw his squad car and came over to say that their unlocked cars had been burgled as well. Although it meant canceling her cards and spending part of the day getting a new driver's license, she had not left anything else of value inside. A nearby neighbor was not so lucky. He lost his camera, binoculars, CDs, and other stuff I can't remember right now. Everyone around here usually feels pretty safe from thieves, but no more. You can be sure that everyone around here will be locking their cars and homes after this.

We know about when it happened, because Peter's dog Zen kept going in and out the doggy door and whining around 3-3:30am, but Peter didn't think much about it. Norma Jean said that her dog also whined and woke her about that time. The dogs knew someone was out there who didn't belong.

It wasn't the way I expected to spend my last day in Florida. The kids and Allison will be here for dinner tonight, and I'm busy packing up and getting ready for my day of travel tomorrow. Other than a few wrinkles here and there, it's been a wonderful visit, if a bit on the scorcher side. This fragile wilted Pacific Northwestern senior won't be visiting in November again any time soon!
:-)

End of a very full day

Bellingham Bay at sunset

This picture was not taken today, but earlier this year. I was looking for something that would feel just right, after such a full day. It started not as usual with a walk, but with a memorial service for my friend Beth, who died a couple of weeks ago. She was only 58, but is another woman who left early because of breast cancer. I was completely taken by surprise at how quickly she died, just a few months after diagnosis.

I really needed the service, which was held at the Bellingham Unitarian Fellowship, a place I have visited in the past. It was exactly what I needed. The experience was moving and personal, and it gave me the closure I so sorely needed. I learned many new things about Beth, but mostly I saw how many people other than me were touched by her life. She was my massage therapist for several months.

As soon as I got home, I ate a quick lunch and Smart Guy and I drove the 75 miles south to Snohomish to take my parachute rig in for its six-month checkup. Yes, that's right: I decided that I am not done yet, and the Drop Zone will open in the first week of January and, weather permitting, I will be out there once again. Or twice or more, who knows? I drove down and he drove back, so we had plenty of time to be together and process our journey.

As we drove back in the sunshine and clouds, we were also both so happy to realize the good choice we made seven years ago to move to Bellingham. It's a beautiful place to live, the just the right place for us.

Magnificent clouds

When it comes my time to cross over, I feel fortunate to know that the community that surrounds me now will support me then, too. Blue skies, Beth! Fly free...
:-)

A really wonderful Sunday

Christy, Cindy, me, Dave

Cindy had emailed me to see if I might be available to make a few jumps with her and her husband Dave, since she got recurrent after a winter and spring layoff from skydiving. Even if you have an "expert" license, if you go beyond six months without a skydive, you must follow the Drop Zone's requirements to be able to jump again. Cindy had to hire a coach and spend several hours going over things she needed to be reminded of before jumping, and then she went out of the airplane with him to show she still remembers how to skydive.

We made three jumps together, along with Christy, who joined us for two of the skydives. It was a really fun day, the weather was perfect, and my skydives were extremely enjoyable. My landings were perfect, just a nice easy step onto the ground, and I drove the 75 miles home with a smile on my face. I had to wear weights (they are strapped around my waist) so I could fall comfortably at the same rate as Cindy and Christy, who weigh more than I do. Although Dave does, too, he's got more surface area so I can fall relative to him without weights, but it's much easier to fall faster than it is to slow down if you are heavier. Just some little tricks you learn over the years.

I had been worried about my knee, but it was just fine, never even stressed a little bit on Sunday. Yesterday, Monday, I hopped out of bed and after accomplishing my morning routine, I power walked to the bus station to head to the coffee shop, join my friends, and get ready for my class at 9:00am at the Y. As I hopped onto the bus, however, and made my way to my usual seat, I hit my knee on the edge of the seat, hard. It hurt so bad I practically collapsed into the seat. You know how when you hit a funny bone on your elbow it does the same thing? Yeah, that's what it felt like.

During the ride to town, the pain diminished a little, and I took stock to see what kind of damage my knee had sustained. I could walk all right, and I went ahead and did my aerobics class. I had little pain... but when I tried to walk upstairs, I couldn't do it without holding onto the railing. I went home and iced it and took stock again this morning. It was possible for me to walk downstairs without holding on, but it's still sore going up stairs. It's better today, though, so I think I'll be all right for the hike on Thursday, which I really don't want to miss.

And then yesterday I learned about Robin Williams having committed suicide. It was devastating, as he is a wonderful, dear person who had won my heart in movie after movie. Anyone who has lost a friend or relative to suicide was impacted by this event. I broke into tears when I saw his star on Hollywood Boulevard completely swamped with flowers. Many of us loved him, and my heart goes out to his family, who will never be the same.

It makes me realize that I must again give thanks for today, for the life I have and the positive outlook I have on life. For those who struggle with depression all the time, it must sometimes seem impossible to go on, and the agony of living becomes too much. These days, we have organizations that can help, such as www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org. I hope if anyone reading this either needs help or knows of someone who does, you will take action, in honor of Robin's memory. You never know when something you say or do might actually help another.
:-{

Farewell to a good man

Eike Hohennadl is in the center

Yesterday I received an email, sent to all of us who were recently in Lake Elsinore for the Skydivers Over Sixty event, that a very familiar face to all of us who knew him, Eike, died skydiving at Eloy in Arizona on Friday. He was attending an invitation-only 88-way event, because he was a very good skydiver, and he also happened to be 72.

Nobody knows for sure what happened, but when his parachute opened in a spin, he was unresponsive under canopy, slumped in the harness, and never did anything to stop it. It continued until he hit the ground, killing him. That is, if he was not already dead, or at least unconscious, from who knows what. Maybe a heart attack, maybe not.

I jumped with him for years, whenever I attended one of those events where we would both be included because of our advanced years. I was never in the same category as far as skydiving skill went. He was a local skydiver in the Lake Elsinore area, and he traveled often to events and was always sought after. It is a great loss to the jump community.

Plus he was just an all-around good guy. It happened yesterday, and every time I woke in the night, I would think of him and feel very sad that he is gone. There are many things I didn't know about him until I read about him in a local Lake Elsinore article, written by Sarah Burge.

Hohenadl had thousands of jumps under his belt and held numerous U.S. Parachute Association licenses and ratings, including safety and training adviser. Hohenadl had escaped from East Germany as a boy and eventually made his way to the United States. He had described that experience as “way more nerve-wracking than jumping from a plane.” Hohenadl fought in the Vietnam War, stationed aboard a 173-foot minesweeper that patrolled the Mekong Delta and the Gulf of Tonkin. In the 90s, he served as manager of a major disposal project at the Fallbrook Naval Weapons Facility involving Vietnam-era napalm. He retired from the U.S. Navy with the rank of captain after more than 30 years of service.

I was going to write about something else, but I just need to say goodbye to him, and wish him Godspeed. I also hope that his family and friends will find solace in the outpouring of love and respect that people all over the world are expressing for Eike. He will truly be missed.
:-(

Lighting candles

Lighting candles for my departed beloveds

When I was in Macedonia in 2009, I visited a couple of churches, it being Orthodox Easter and all, and I lighted candles for my beloved children and parents, gone from my life for a long time. My grief for those lost children in Connecticut goes beyond what I would have expected, but it must be partly caused by the stirrings of memories of how difficult it was to get through those first few hours, days and weeks.

I was only 22 when my son Stephen died of spinal meningitis. It was inconceivable to me back then that some day I would not only recover, but that I would be grateful for those thirteen months he was with me. And when my son Chris died at the age of 40, I was almost sixty and had a much easier time of it. Not easy, just easier. And now I think of those parents and grandparents of these lost children and wish there were words that could ease the pain. There are no words.

How many mornings I would wake thinking that I had just awakened from a bad dream, only to find that the bad dream did not dissipate with the dawn. I had to go through every single hour and day with only my broken heart and the daily act of living to get me through. But even though when you are in severe pain the thought that it will get better is no relief at all, it is true: time softens and changes the loss until you can smile and laugh again.

And then something like this makes me wake in the night, crying and feeling the breaks in my heart as if they happened yesterday. It did happen yesterday... didn't it? Crying again... but I do know I will recover, and I wish I could tell those parents and grandparents that although they will be permanently changed by this loss, they will find joy in life again some day.
:-(

A disconcerting moment

While I was enjoying this beautiful latte this morning, after a thoroughly wonderful walk in the sunshine here in Bellingham, I didn't know that I would be coming home to a really disconcerting moment. When I walked in the door, Smart Guy was huddled over his laptop with a look of concentration that I know better than to interrupt. I tiptoed in and put the groceries on the table. He said, "I'll be with you in a moment." Well, that all seemed normal. But then he said, "I don't want you to freak out, but your blog is gone, it's been removed by Blogspot."

Now this might have bothered me WAY more if it hadn't already happened to a couple of bloggers whom I follow, and it wasn't a terribly difficult fix. That pesky button on the top of blogs that allows you to report blogs as objectionable must be irresistible to some people who want to gum up the works, or perhaps someone who works against the Preserve Galbraith group (which I linked to on my last post) might have decided to do it, who knows?

I logged into Blogspot and had to give them my phone number to receive a text message with a code in it, typed it in, and everything came back to normal. Now we all know that a free service such as Blogspot or Wordpress can make whatever changes or modifications it desires to our sites, and I have already given up on the thought that my four years of blogging material will be archived for the ages. Not gonna happen. I use my blog as a method of keeping track of changes in my life, communicating with my followers, and basically see it as a wonderful tool for keeping my writing chops in good working order.

Some of my blogging friends have moved over to Wordpress because they feel the interface is more stable, but I looked into it and don't think it's any better than Blogspot, just different. And quite a bit more powerful and complicated, which I don't need. My question to you is, does everything seem to be back to normal? A comment will tell me, or an email if you wish (which should be available to you on my profile).

On another matter, the weather here in the Pacific Northwest is simply stunning. I see that my old stomping grounds of Boulder are in the middle of a big snowstorm, the likes of which I remember well. I loved those days, but I am happy as I can be right here in my little corner of the universe.
:-)

Things are looking up

These tulips from last spring just made me smile, as I looked for a nice picture to dress up my blog post. Hope they do the same for you. Things are indeed looking up, since today the window on my car got fixed, I have a new bank account, and the insurance claim has been completed with my insurer. Although the replacement of the window didn't meet the deductible, it feels so NICE to have my car usable (and invisible) again. I also got my driver's license renewed and drove around today in my repaired car, the first day since "it" happened last Saturday. So yes indeed, I am feeling so much better today. My insurer even paid for the cost of the stolen chocolate bar.

Last night I also slept the best I have in days. Some of my blogging friends have real difficulty sleeping, so today I am feeling much more understanding, after two nights of anxious tossing and turning. Last night, however, I turned a corner, and today my life feels like it's getting back on track. I can actually start thinking about other things. I've learned some valuable lessons. Here are a few.

This kind of theft is increasing exponentially as people get more desperate. The thieves ALWAYS fill their car with gas as their first move. A red flag is when they fill two or three cars all at once. Women are often targeted, because they carry a purse and usually leave it in the car when exercising. They watch for that. The trunk is a better option, but the police told me if I leave valuables there that I place it BEFORE arriving at my destination, so that nobody sees me open the trunk. Covering your valuables with a coat or a pillow is also a red flag to the thieves.

Women in grocery stores are a target because they leave their purses in the basket as they peruse the shelves. This is when they will walk right up and take your purse while your back is turned. The policeman told me of a woman just today who accidentally left her wallet at Home Depot, and by the time she found where it was, more than $2100 had been charged to her account.

There are two kinds of theft: property and identity. Both are felonies, but identity fraud needs to be handled separately, since police cannot take your word for what happened, your bank needs to give you a detailed report of what happened with your cards so you can make a separate fraud report. The only important thing I still have to do is to get ahold of annualcreditreport.com and use their free report to find if anybody is trying to set up new accounts in my name. They offer a free 30-day fraud alert to make sure nobody is trying to steal my identity. That's my task for this week.

What I am hoping is that my misfortune will serve to warn some of my beloved community to protect yourself from this happening to you. The biggest shock I received today when I turned in the police report is to learn that here, in Bellingham, more than 40 to 50 of these thefts happen every single day! With the police departments being cut back, there are fewer and fewer enforcement officers to follow through to catch these criminals. They get away with it, sometimes until they must feel they are entitled to our stuff. What can we do to change this scary trend?

One of the most important things I've learned in the last few days is that yes, it's a violation of my life, but move on and do not let myself become a victim of identity fraud! The number of people who have told me of their own experiences makes me realize that suspicion is a more reasonable response than trust when somebody calls, or emails, or pretends to be offering something that seems too good to be true.

If you can convince me that this is the wrong choice, I'm all ears. You will be talking to a disillusioned Pollyanna...
:-{

Violated

This morning bright and early I went for my early morning walk with the Fairhaven walking group. It was blustery and rainy at Lake Padden, but this is what I found when I returned to my car: a shattered passenger side window and the pillow that covered my purse/pack on the floor moved aside and my valuables were just gone. Inside was my wallet with credit cards, debit card, checks, and driver's license, along with sundry other things I hope I have remembered.

They also stole my iPad2 and camera, both of which I carry with me almost always. It hurts like the dickens, but the hardest part is the feeling of violation. Feeling that they are looking at my entire life story, with my home address on my license, all my cards simply... gone. Everything that tells people who I am is gone. By the time I had canceled my debit and credit cards, the thieves had gotten six separate charges on them, three on each. They filled up their car with gas, to start, then went off to buy groceries ($80), bop over to Rite Aid ($190), and a quick stop at Starbucks ($180). Figure they got gift cards or something to rack up that amount. A stop at several stores with the credit card, totaling another $350, and by the time they got to Macy's, the nice something they tried to buy for themselves for $518 was denied. I will not have to pay any of the charges, but the crying, the helpless feeling (have I remembered everything?) have not gone completely away yet. It's been six hours since I discovered it.

Having two direct deposits and having to close my checking account... all this pain will continue for weeks, if not months. I also had a key to my car in my wallet, and they know my address. Some nice neighbors have allowed me to park my car in their driveway, with their cars behind and beside mine, so that until the window can be fixed, nobody can take it. I'll get one of those bars you can place on your steering wheel, I guess, so that nobody can drive it away once it's fixed.

And it's Christmas Eve. I am determined to have a good holiday, because I just don't want them to have the satisfaction of destroying me, too. I remember long ago when my mother was robbed, heavy silver and furs all gone, she never got over it. Well, I can replace everything, and I still have a choice to make about how I deal with this misfortune.

The police tell me that this is a common occurrence at Lake Padden. It's shady and the thieves sit in cars with tinted windows, waiting to see you show up and go for a nice walk around the 2.6-mile lake. You won't be back soon. When nobody is coming, they strike quickly. They must have figured that the pillow covered something they wanted. Nothing else was touched.

I have my little camera that I used before I bought my latest one with a zoom, and I still have my iPod, which I'll use. Fortunately Smart Guy wouldn't let me put any critical passwords into my iPad, but they have my email address and are probably going through my pictures and looking for whatever they can find to use before wiping the iPad clean and selling it. This is not helping. Positive thoughts, positive thoughts...
:-(

Signs and portents

Tonight and early tomorrow morning there will be a lunar eclipse that should be visible from everywhere in North America with clear skies. That will probably NOT be here in Washington state, but you never know. It is also happening on the same day as the winter solstice. That juxtaposition has not happened for 372 years! The eclipse will begin around 2:00 am on the East Coast and 11:00 pm here on the West Coast.

This is a picture showing last year's partial eclipse. The pictures that should arise from tonight's total eclipse should be even more amazing. The winter solstice occurs tomorrow at 3:38 pm PDT. By that time I will have arrived in Denver to attend a gathering of friends of Emily Berkeley, who died Sunday morning in a parachuting accident. An article in the local Boulder paper about the incident appears here. I really don't feel like going through all the details again, but if you're interested and the article doesn't have enough information, I wrote a post on my other blog saying goodbye to dear Emily.

It's interesting how my psyche has been handling this loss. When I first heard on Saturday evening about her having been hurt, I couldn't sleep, tossing and turning and thinking of her, not knowing how bad it was. By the time I woke on Sunday morning and learned that she was gone, I felt totally shattered but unsure of when I might be going to Denver. Then when I learned of a memorial for her on Thursday and got tickets to fly there, it hit me hard. Somehow the reality of what has happened opened another centimeter and I felt the grief hit a little harder. Then it began to raise the specter of other times I have been in this psychic space, and ancient but familiar feelings emerged.

Emily and Kiwi, Dec 2010

For me, I know that this is a transitional phase, that it will change once I am able to be with like-minded friends who are also mourning her loss, and then, imperceptibly, the huge gaping hole in my personal Universe will begin to fill with day-to-day commonplace routine. And one day I will realize that a whole day will have passed without thinking of her.

I look forward to that day, but for now, I am still feeling around inside at the size of the hole. Tears have fallen several times and today they feel liberating. Tomorrow I will be able to see my friends who love her too and we can cry together. That's something to look forward to.