I have shocked myself. I cannot believe that I did not bring any cheese on this camping trip with me. Certainly that has to be a first.
Saturday, April 28, 2018
Wednesday, April 18, 2018
You can't "DO" Relationships
Isn’t that how we are as humans? We “DO” relationships.
That is the problem.
A relationship is an evolving, morphing thing. A thing to “BE” in, as opposed to “DO”.
Monday, April 9, 2018
Travel Trailer
This is a good week! Getting my wee little travel trailer already for the season! First destination on the docket? Winter quarters in Scotts Mills next weekend travel time, Friday the 13th! Can't even wait!
Friday, April 6, 2018
The first signs of spring in Central
So today is April 5th. And I can't even believe it but this afternoon I am sitting on my patio. The weather is 70 degrees, with very high overcast with the sun peeking through. It is warm and the birds are tweeting. And I feel I can say with certainty, despite the snow that will surely come between now and the end of April, spring is surely nearby.
Thursday, April 5, 2018
Processing the past through some one elses dementia, part 2
I had several thoughts on the drive home.
Up until now, when ever I saw his girlfriend (in a way that I had to interact with her) I would say to her "I am so glad he has you in his life", and I did tell her at one point early on, when things were really awkward and she was having a difficult time dealing with us, I said to her at one point when we were alone, (actually she had a friend there) " I just want you to know that I do not bear any ill will toward you or Stu. I am thankful that he has you in his life, and wish for you to feel welcomed. Please know this is the absolute truth, from the bottom of my heart."
After my intereaction with Stu in the hospital yesterday, I thoght on my way home, "Screw him. If the stories I've heard about her from others are true, then she is as horribly manipulative as he is, and they effing deserve each other. So now I can say with less compassion and more anger, "yeah, you guys deserve each other."
This is not a good state of mind for me to be in.
But it came flooding in so fast and completely that it makes me think I still have things to process.
When I got home, I shared the experience with my excellent friend of 30+ years. She said a profound thing to me that I have neverheard her say:
Well, Michelle, honestly I've always thought that Stu was a 'woman hater' ".
As I pondered it through the night, and looked over our life together, all the demeaning, belittling, manipulative, game playing cruel things he did and said suddenly made sense. It is as if his current condition has stripped away all of his filters and his abilities to carry out his lifelong facades. He is now living openly, the hate that he has had for me all of our married life. It is both refreshing and sad. All of the years he presented these wonderful facades of the adoring husband and father, perfectly Christian with his family in line. When I divorced him, he was no longer able to present that perfect facade. I imagine that once that occurred, his rage REALLY kicked in. You know, underneath the surface.
So now, it is on me to decide what I am going to do with these feelings.
I was awake in the middle of the night, chewing on all of this and praying, "Lord, help me to see things right and not stay in this place."
After this night of prayer, and a little bit of sleep I woke up with a sense of peace and freedom.
I have decided that, other than to be a support to my children and extended family and eventually visiting friends, I do not need to see Stuart anymore. Particularly not at the hospital, unless he really requests it, which I doubt will happen.
This leads me to some other questions:
1). We have many longtime and very dear shared friends.
If his hate carries on unfiltered like this, do I give up going to our annual bocce ball and New Years Eve get togethers? Since the divorce we have been well able to navigate these events remaining cordial to each other and getting along for the sake of those friendships. If he starts ranting and calling me the 'C' word or other things, it will get really bad for the other friends attending the events. But I don't want to lose those friends. And these two events are usually the only times I get to see them all together as they all live in Eugene and Portland.
So this is a thing that concerns me. And it's all hypothetical really. So why borrow trouble I guess.
2). How will it be at family events now? Even though we are divorced we still get together with the in-laws and kids and cousins for Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter. How's that gonna work now?
Anyway, there it is for now.
Processing the past through someone elses dementia, Part 1
I was taken back at least 13 years ago yesterday afternoon.
All of the reasons I got my divorce came flooding back to me as I stood inside the door of Stuart's hospital room.
A little backstory:
Stuart, as many of you know, has suffered a terrible form of sepsis. The infection is in his blood, liver, lungs and brain. There are 20-30 absesses, each the size of a dime, in his brain. They are trying to administer anitbiotics through a pic line. He is expected to be hospitalized for two months.
He spends his days in and out of dementia. Some times his symptoms almost seem like they resemble Tourette's Syndrome. When he was first admitted he was violently flailing, striking himself and those around him. They restrained him, wrapped his hands, and sedated him. He was swearing beyond profusely at anyone within striking distance. He is still in swearing mode - which is odd for him. Anyway, all of this backstory to say, he can't be held accountable for the things that he does and says right now.
So, I have avoided going in to his room, because I know he is fragile and edgy. I do not know if seeing me or hearing my voice will cause him stress in his current condition and that is the LAST thing he needs. That and his girlfriend is often there and I don't want to cause awkwardness.
Just because you are divorced from a person does not necessarily mean that you hate them. Heck I was married to the guy for 28 bloody long years. The last 13 of which were pure hell and I do confess that I HATED him during that time. But that was then and this is now. I certainly bear him or his girlfriend no ill will. So when I go to the hospital, I stay in the waiting room. This way I can be there to support my kids when they come to town and visit him.
Blake got permission from his employer to come down to be with his dad for the week. Blake has been sleeping every single night in the hospital, in the recliner chair next to his bed. The boy looks rough, fragile and bleary eyed.
Tuesday I went to pick up his laundry and take it home to wash for him.
Blake said, "Hey mom, why don't you come stand in the doorway for a sec and say 'hi' to dad?"
I said, "well ok, if you think it won't upset him?"
Blake answered, "it should be fine."
So I stood in the the doorway and waved and said Hi Stu.
Stu looked my way and weakly said, "hi" back.
When I brought Blake's laundry back to him on Thursday, I again stood in the door and waved and said "Hi". Stu did not look up. Blake said to him, "Hey dad, do you want to turn your head and say hi to mom?" Stuart frowned and said, "No!"
Which was fine.
And yet, it brought back a FLOOD of anger from years gone by.
To be continued...
Wednesday, April 4, 2018
Lake season.
The season is so close I can hardly stand it. The time to be on the water whether it's paddling the High Lakes or whether it's hitting the Estuary and The Game Preserve at the coast and paddling that. The time to be on the water is near. So close and yet so far.
When will any of us learn?
Sometimes we say, as parents of grown children, "When will these kids ever learn?"
But I would counter this by saying to ourselves, "When will WE ever learn?"
Learn that sometimes (oftentimes?) it is more important to let our kids suffer and hurt and experience the agonies of life rather than to offer them the advice, wisdom and tools to navigate through or around such suffering.
To really learn something, some people just have to figure it out, no matter how painful the process is.
Friday, March 30, 2018
Wednesday, March 21, 2018
The Quaint Art of Embroidery
My daughter has taken up the quaint art of embroidery, and for my birthday, she made me the lovely wall art which I have hung proudly in my kitchen:
Tuesday, March 20, 2018
The Prayer Chain
What a terrible lesson.
What a sad eye-opening insight.
Just because friends love you and care for you does not give them the right to share your traumas and trials around the community, under the "guise of a prayer request."
No. What REAL love would do, would be to pray fervently, knowing that God knows the situation even if we don't have all the details. Love would humbly wait for the updates and permission to share, from either the patient or the family.
The Prayer Chain - mind you, not the one at the place I work. The one at the place I work is comprised of thoughtful, humble, people with a patient desire to see God work. They do not gossip about what comes across the prayer chain, nor do they speak about it outside of the prayer chain. They do not share information without express permission from the person to be prayed for, or that person's family.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
There was a man, a friend of the patient. As soon as he heard about the potential injury/illness he took it upon himself to alert the community. This was even before the family knew. It was a breach of privacy - even though it came from a loving, well meaning heart. The immediate family was still trying to reach the rest of the family, this is before the family has had an opportunity to speak with the Doctors / patient or get the pertinent information, in order to be able to even share an accurate prayer request. One of the family members saw it before the family had a chance to tell them. It ended up being kind of bad. (Ya think?!)
This man crossed a boundary, stepped out of line, and refused to recognise that he had carried out an insensitive, rude act.
One thing I have learned, both from serving as a missionary and working in a church: everyone has the right to pray. No one has the right to share private information, no matter what their loving heartfelt desire is. It is just not right.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
So at this point, I don't imagine that I would ever share any requests for prayer with any church's prayer chain. Particularly in this small town, as people are too quick to talk and there seem to be several who need to "feel they are a part of the drama" and make it their own.
Nope.
I am so done with that.
Saturday, January 20, 2018
Dementia Chronicle, Episode 1 : A beginning?
Having served alongside my dad through the years of providing care to my mom, I am hyper sensitive to any little thing, any small aberration in my own thoughts and abilities.
Rather than squirrel away uncomfortable thoughts, I decided that I should blog them.
Perhaps it will be known that I merely suffer from the decline that we as women go through when experiencing menopause.
Most recently notable, ( and alarming to me) is my observation that I can no longer type as I used to.
Already in this post, I have had to correct typos 5 times. This is becoming a typical occurrence during the last year. Also, my spelling is less accurate that it once was. And grammar. Dare I confess that I actually had a brain fart regarding where the apostrophe should go in "Priests" - vs- "Priest's"?
For ME - THIS should not happen. I am a proud grammar Nazi.
My own mother contracted Altzheimers at an early age. We believe she had the start of it in her early 50's. She died from it when she was 61. My mother was an atheletic, outgoing, left brained, witty, mathematical person. She did not engage in poor eating habits, excessive alcohol or other obvious unhealthful activity.
I am now 50+. My hyper sensitivity to the possibility of getting this grows with every typo, spelling mistake etc. Where did I put my keys? Again? I thought I already fed the cats? When did I change the fish's water?
It is also possible that I have a tendency to take on a great deal of things at once. My brain rarely shuts off - even at night. Example: I got 4 hours of sleep last night. Decent sleep for me is 6 hours. I have needed 7-9 in the past.
So I don't know.
This is the first post in what I hope never becomes a series, for me.
The Dementia Chronicles.
Thursday, January 18, 2018
It's only Lincoln City...
Especially now tht some of my kids are able to get away and meet up with me down there.
I need to find some big rubber boots so I can stomp around in the storms.
Wednesday, November 1, 2017
Facebook Users and Their "News"
We are the reason we got into this problem in the first place: we made it easy for the Russians because we, as a general population, are stupid.
If you are considering sharing or posting a "News " article, make sure it is from an actual News Agency or Source. Not something like "The Daily Mail", or "The Daily Caller", or "Huffington Post" etc. Did you know that such "News" sources, are not even really that? They are predominantly opinion blogs with a host of contributors. They are the Equivalent of the National Enquirer that you see in grocery store check out news displays. The majority of "News" that facebook friends are sharing and re-posting is this sort of crap. It is BS people. Not news.
When you are "Sharing News" please make sure that it IS actual news. Most of it is just opinions. The kind that you agree with. And it is perfectly fine to share your opinions. But please do not share it as "News". Please double check the source and if it is not knowably legit, then state that it is merely an opinion that you agree with. These so-called "News" stories are presented to you on facebook as though they are legit and they are not. Please don't spread this stuff on the rest of social media as though it were "News". It's not. Please do your research before posting this stuff. It just makes you look like an imbecile and it stirs up strife between other imbeciles on facebook who WANT to believe these stories are true, for what ever reason.
If your "News" has an inflammatory title or subject matter, and is not reflected on other, more legitimate news resources, then odds are great that it is not actually news.
More legitimate news resources would be things like NBC, CNN, FOX, ABC, CBS or your local affiliate - granted they are not perfect either. We as a population, are such lazy thinkers. We happily gobble up any tittilating bit of data that piques our interest or speaks to our biases and opinions, with out ever questioning the validity of the report.
We gobble up what ever crappy pablum someone wants to feed us.
They don't even have to cram it down our throats.
We gorge ourselves on it of our own accord.
We are stupid.
We are the problem.
Example: Why would I blame MacDonalds.
If I get fat because I choose to eat there so often?
This is the same concept.
Maybe we would all be better off if we paid as much attention to what we are putting in our heads, as we do to what we are putting into our bodies?
400W
Monday, October 16, 2017
Flying Back From Providence
In the dark, waiting for dawn.
Below. In the underneath.
Darkened neighborhoods, districts
Outlined by faint street light perimeters.
Occasional mist obscures.
Peaceful.
Then out of the sweet, quiet dark of predawn
It juts out
Like an ice pick in the eye.
Seering.
What the HELL is that.
Red, severing light.
Oh, the neighbors must hate THAT.
It can be seen, viewed with PAIN, from over 13,000 feet.
It can be seen from bloody outer space.
It looks like some one's back patio sliding door.
Two brazen glowing red rectangles
Lying flat.
Staring boldly upward.
Hell's patio door.
The cities.
And out of the dark
Looms a giant spider.
Exoskeleton intersections, wreathed in light, delicate and fragile.
Like wisps of spun, gold light.
She is attended by her mates
Who gaze upon her from the outskirts of her web.
She slowly creeps toward them.
Expanding.
Until she swallows each one. Slowly.
First hub.
First landing of the day
Soon to come.
The dawn reveals the Quintessential Symbol of Winter's Comfort:
The Mitten.
Not pale with snow, yet.
But green, dotted with villages. Tree lines and fences
I look down on a motherboard of agriculture.
And now, the clouds.
Descent.
Turbulence.
How the hell does it stay in the sky.
This culvert pipe with wings.
God only knows.
And for THAT
I am thankful.
Wednesday, September 13, 2017
Dip Cone
I smell a dip cone.
Smell it?
How the hell can anybody SMELL a dip cone?
They have no smell!
I think this means that I am meant to go and get one, now that a Dairy Queen has been constructed in our small town.
-
Tuesday, September 12, 2017
Stuff
I rarely see you.
I invite you to go do things like kayak, or go to the coast or to come up to the campsite for a day or even to stay over if you wish.
There is always an excuse.
I understand that you are busy.
With your family.
With your elderly parents.
I know how that is because I have gone through all of that myself.
So I guess I never really thought that much about it other than it was always a big massive bummer.
Until now.
But now, I see how things are:
All the times of your saying, "Yes. Lets go do this," only to have you change your mind at the last minute, leaving me holding the bag, to go and do the adventure alone. Again and again and again.
It seems that you can go camping with a mutual friend at the drop of a hat, but not when I invite you.
It seems that you can go hang out at the lake or go fishing at the drop of a hat, but not when I invite you.
Even so, it was a bit of a wake up call for me.
Let me just say, it didn't start with the Civil War.
But that was kind of the Last Straw.
I suddenly realized: It is me.
I don't know what I ever did. I don't know what I do.
It must just be how I am.
And now it feels like you know,
that what transpired has come down to the equivalent of an assault on our friendship.
And you are back peddling.
Trying to make it up, as if to say, "See? Everything is good, right? We're all good...?"
And you are trying to save face in order to keep some semblance of peace.
You have recently taken to inviting me to go here, or do this and have a beer.
Even though we've been friends for many many years,
that's not something you normally do:
Call me, to arrange to hang out.
Not unless it's with the group.
I never really thought about that fact before. Until just now.
I know that you are a peacable person, and would even throw someone under the bus to maintain some concept of unity. But ultimately that doesn't work. Because some one got thrown under the bus. I've been that person before, and I've watched you do it to some one else. Just to keep the peace. To avoid confrontation.
In the things that have transpired above, I can sadly say that, unfortunately, there has been a breach of trust. For me anyway.
The words you say, I no longer know if they are legit or just trying to maintain the peace.
And I don't like how this has felt. I've tried for years to not take it personally when ever there is an excuse. And I never did take it personally. But now, after what has transpired, indicated above, it makes me wonder, retro-actively.
I don't like feeling this way, and I fear for the possible loss of what I thought was an excellent friendship.
Sadly, all of the "trying to make it up" out of the blue, suddenly, only makes it worse.
I need to have a foundation for trust and that foundation has been put to serious question.
Don't push me. I need time to get over this hurt.
Alone.
Thursday, August 24, 2017
Rendering the life changing into insignificance
Imagine you are in your house, in your yard, driving to work, or on errands. Doing mundane daily things. You begin to have these thoughts - alarming thoughts - that come in to your head more and more frequenlty as the days go on. Thoughts with such strength and undeniable force that you finally recognise it as the voice of God.
This voice is telling you CRAZY things! The world sucks. It tells you it is finished with humanity.
tTe voice tells you that all of creation is going to be destroyed in a cataclysm...well, except for you.
Uhm, right there, that's kind of a big life meddling issue all by itself. Just deal with that concept.
How do you live your life wondering, "is this real?", "Am I crazy?"
But now add to that, a growing, unshakeable sense that these things are actually true.
And now... deal with that revelation.
If this weren't enough to put you in the rubber room by now, let's ponder this:
In addition to all of the above, imagine that voice that you have finally come to identify as the voice of God, telling you to build a big-ass boat and fill it with food and every kind of animal that he sends to you.
Imagine going through your days, with the mail man laughing at "the weird shed" you've built in your yard. You neighbor trying to casually ask, "so, what's this project I see you working on? Some kinda ADU or something?"
You tell him the truth.
People who know you are suddenly staying the heck away from you, ya freak.
Now...
Funny that we, as humanity, have relegated this extremely stressful situation down to a simple children's bible story.
This is how we are.
Tuesday, August 22, 2017
Ireland
I'll never get there.
But thank you that you gave my kids such a great time.
I find great comfort in looking at their photos.
Saturday, May 27, 2017
One Act Plays: Now You're Talking
Photos courtesy of Jerry Baldock of Outlaws Photography.
This is the play I directed "The Kindness of Strangers" which was a one woman show starring Vicki Kouns - although in these photos, it was dress rehearsal and my actress had not gotten back from her Florida trip yet, so I stood in for her.
Civil War photos: Round Two
His watermark is so STRONG though, its almost difficult to even see the images.
Even so, you can find them at this link:
https://outlawsphotography.smugmug.com/Events/Community/Civil-War-Reenactment-The-House-On-The-Metolius5-21-2017/
Thursday, May 25, 2017
Civil War Pics - Round One
By "we all" I mean, myself, Kristi, Patti Jo, Scout and Scout.
Here are the first round of pics, courtesy of Kristi:
Wednesday, May 24, 2017
Drowning - it's quiet. No splashing
Drowning is a quiet affair. Most of the time people don't even know that some one near them is drowning. It only takes 20-60 seconds to drown. For an adult. Less time for children.
The Instinctive Drowning Response kicks in automatically. The drowning person has no ability to do anything else.
It looks like this:
1 “Except in rare circumstances, drowning people are physiologically unable to call out for help. The respiratory system was designed for breathing. Speech is the secondary or overlaid function. Breathing must be fulfilled before speech occurs.
2 Drowning people’s mouths alternately sink below and reappear above the surface of the water. The mouths of drowning people are not above the surface of the water long enough for them to exhale, inhale, and call out for help. When the drowning people’s mouths are above the surface, they exhale and inhale quickly as their mouths start to sink below the surface of the water.
3 Drowning people cannot wave for help. Nature instinctively forces them to extend their arms laterally and press down on the water’s surface. Pressing down on the surface of the water permits drowning people to leverage their bodies so they can lift their mouths out of the water to breathe.
4 Throughout the Instinctive Drowning Response, drowning people cannot voluntarily control their arm movements. Physiologically, drowning people who are struggling on the surface of the water cannot stop drowning and perform voluntary movements such as waving for help, moving toward a rescuer, or reaching out for a piece of rescue equipment.
From beginning to end of the Instinctive Drowning Response people’s bodies remain upright in the water, with no evidence of a supporting kick. Unless rescued by a trained lifeguard, these drowning people can only struggle on the surface of the water from 20 to 60 seconds before submersion occurs.”
This doesn’t mean that a person that is yelling for help and thrashing isn’t in real trouble—they are experiencing aquatic distress. Not always present before the Instinctive Drowning Response, aquatic distress doesn’t last long—but unlike true drowning, these victims can still assist in their own rescue. They can grab lifelines, throw rings, etc.
Look for these other signs of drowning when persons are in the water:
5 Head low in the water, mouth at water level
6 Head tilted back with mouth open
7 Eyes glassy and empty, unable to focus
8 Eyes closed
9 Hair over forehead or eyes
10 Not using legs—vertical
11 Hyperventilating or gasping
12 Trying to swim in a particular direction but not making headway
13 Trying to roll over on the back
14 Appear to be climbing an invisible ladder
So if a crew member falls overboard and everything looks OK—don’t be too sure. Sometimes the most common indication that someone is drowning is that they don’t look like they’re drowning. They may just look like they are treading water and looking up at the deck. One way to be sure? Ask them, “Are you all right?” If they can answer at all—they probably are. If they return a blank stare, you may have less than 30 seconds to get to them.
And parents—children playing in the water make noise.
When they get quiet, you get to them and find out why.
Click here to watch a brief VIDEO on this.
Monday, May 15, 2017
Pics of my mom.
I had many from my dad's side of the family as his grandmother was an avid "Kodaker"
The one my mother showed me was of her, sitting on a lawn in a plaid skirt with one of those little Tam-o-shanter hats on over chin length hair. I don't even know where that photo went or where we were when she showed it to me. She was probably about 10 yrs old so this would possibly have been around mid to late 1930's.
Anyway, many thanks to my cousing Karen, pictured below: bottom row, second from the right, for finding a bunch of photos in my aunt Becky's photo album and sending them to me. The are a little bit grainy, but I am very happy to have them. Thanks Karen!
So in this photo starting at the top left: Uncle Glen, Uncle Dick, Aunt Mary, Aunt Ella, my dad and in front of him is my mom. In front of my mom is Grampa Irl. J. Walker, and Gramma Ethel Alta Ready Walker. Beside Gramma is my Aunt Becky. Kids in the bottom row starting at the left are Billy, me (why a I always doing SOMETHING with my face?!) my cousin Karen and my cousin Dale. ("Deli Bread") This was taken on the front porch of the house on 65th and Foster.
In this photo starting left: Grampa Walker, Uncle Dick, Uncle Glen, Uncle Myron (who died young), my mom and Gramma Walker.
Starting at the top, left : Uncle Dick, Grampa Walker, Uncle Myron.
My mom (look how crazy tall she was!!), Gramma Walker, and the little boy is my Uncle Ed (Karen's dad). This was taken on the front porch of the house on 65th and Foster.
Left to right: Uncle Dick, Grampa Walker, Gramma Walker, Uncle Glen, my mom, Uncle Ed.
This was taken in the front room of the house on 65th and Foster.
I *think* this is, starting at left: Uncle Dick, mom, Uncle Glen, Gramma, Grampa, Uncle Ed.
Circa 1970's
Starting at the left: Aunt Becky (Karen's mom), Aunt Mary (Uncle Glen's wife) Aunt Ella (Uncle Dick's wife, and my mom. This was taken on the front porch of the house on 65th and Foster.
From left: My brother, my mom, me, my dad. This was taken on the front porch of the house on 65th and Foster.
Wednesday, May 10, 2017
John 14:1-14
Jesus said, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.
where I am going.”
where you are going.
How can we know the way?”
Jesus said to him,
“I am the way, and the truth, and the life.
No one comes to the Father
except through me.
If you know me,
you will know myFather also.
From now on you do know him
and have seen him.”
still do not know me?
Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.
I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father
may be glorified in the Son. If in my name you ask me for
anything, I will do it.”