Life and dying

From a long discourse on the dying process (relevant because of my dad):

"The magic of human contact"

"One of the most effective salves for the fear of dying is the presence of other human beings. It is not necessarily what a person may say or do, but their very presence that makes the difference. We often feel at a loss for words when faced with tragedy, but sometimes saying nothing at all has the best effect. ... There is something truly magical about one human being simply "being there" for another. Never underestimate the power of your being."

That's what I needed to hear. I often think that going to see my dad is more and more an exercise in futility. He spends most of his time sleeping, and we talk about such banal things. We don't seem to be any closer than we ever were! It's always been difficult to feel close to my dad. However, I have noticed that he still has a wonderful sense of humor, and it's great when he uses it.

This brochure on the dying process goes on to speak of the soul's immortality, of meeting up again with loved ones who have gone before, when going through the dying process. It's quite interesting.

I sometimes feel like I was thrust into a life where I don't really belong. I'm not really from here. I am an alien! It is so hard to find intimacy and a meeting of souls with all the barriers that arise with being human. I feel so sad and lonely sometimes. But those are just feelings, and they have a right to exist as much as I do. I have to believe that other people also feel the way I do, and go on to do great things for others just the same.

On change

I started a conversation on Facebook recently that I find interesting, on "changing others." Organizations like AA have adopted the attitude that it is "wrong" and "bad" to deliberately try to change others, that this is a dysfunctional and selfish behavior.

Maybe I'm talking about something completely different. But what I observe is that we humans are like a mass of charged particles, zooming around, colliding into one another all the time. We are constantly changing others -- redirecting them as a result of a random or deliberate collision, whether of ideas or something more physical. Even hermits that go up to a mountain to live a separate life are still alive and aware, and their spirits remain intertwined with all "sentient beings" (as the Buddhists like to say).

To say we can't or should not change others is irrelevant to the fact that we do, all the time. Anyone who has been a parent or teacher must have noticed his or her enormous power to change other human lives. When you think about watershed moments in your own life, many of them involve the influence of other people who were extremely important to you. Most people point to their parents or certain teachers as having the strongest influence over their lives. Some of these influences were positive, while others may be perceived as very negative.

I have noticed that the greatest teachers among us -- Jesus, Buddha, and many others who aren't regarded as the foundation of an entire religion -- set out in a very deliberate manner to exhort others to change. You may regard Christianity and Buddhism as fundamentally different. It would appear that Christians want to evangelize all others to think exactly the same way, whereas Buddhists want others to achieve freedom from suffering by changing the way they think (just how to do so is an individual journey). However, if you investigate the way Jesus lived, he did not talk about a detailed theology or belief system that he wanted others to follow. Rather, he said, "Follow me." He also told individuals to turn away from their sin. He also cautioned against focusing on the sinfulness of others: "First remove the beam from your own eye so that you can see clearly to remove the speck from your neighbor's."

Jesus did not lay out a rigid pattern of belief, but a transformative way of living. "I have come so that they may have life, and have it more abundantly," he said. I have to conclude that Christians who enjoy imposing a rigid belief system on others have not gotten the fundamental message of the savior they claim to follow!

I don't think that Buddha and Jesus were on different paths at all. They both lived by example, and had disciples who tried to walk in their steps. They both spoke of dying to self, and the need to undergo a radical rebirth as a transformed creation. Does any of this sound like it might require some personal change somewhere along the way?

Change is such a "constant" and inevitable part of living. You can't escape it, even for a moment. Even if you don't wish to acknowledge it, we are each changing all the time. We are also so interconnected that we cannot change in isolation. If I change myself, I can't help but also change others.

It seems like one of life's most sacred tasks is to be more intentional about how I change, and how I change others. Instead of this being a more or less random occurrence just depending on my mood and what I happen to be doing when I meet other people, love requires that I become much more aware of the way that I am changing, and how that affects all the rest of this amazing and wonderful planet.

When I change myself, I also transform the world. There is no "I" and no "other." There only is. If I am transformed, I must help others who are also transforming. There is no way to avoid it.

So what does this have to do with the pop-culture idea that trying to change others is always a misguided and bad idea? That's where I am getting lost. I do see other people trying to impose a certain viewpoint (i.e., political) on others, and getting very frustrated when they don't convince everyone of the correctness of their views. Part of the problem with our political discourse seems to be that everyone's goal is to make others believe the same things as they do. So, when I speak of transformation, I don't mean becoming more liberal, or more of a Democrat, or any other label for human points of view. If anything, those things become like a memory of things that have been outgrown. I used to identify myself as a liberal, or a Democrat. Do I still have points of view? Yes, I haven't achieved such a level of no-self that I have left all my opinions behind permanently. But I am starting to see that these are bound to my existence here as an individual human being, part of my "Julie" self but not part of my larger spirit. Somehow, all these particular beliefs and points of view are no longer important when I become a part of all creation.

Behavior is more important than belief, although often a certain belief is what leads to certain behaviors. I think where the human mind gets into trouble is when it insists on thinking in a limited, dualistic way. Right-wrong, good-bad, black-white.

Anyhow, I'm still working out all these things. If you get to Nirvana/the kingdom of heaven before me, come back and help me get there, please! Help me change!

Returned from one trip, on another

My family returned home this weekend after a one-week trip to Disney World in Orlando. Our visit was timed to occur during what was probably the most busy week of the entire year at that park! (That is, the week encompassing the 4th of July.) We were amazed, stunned even, to witness the volume of people moving through the 4 theme parks during the 5 days we visited. (Those parks are Epcot Center, my favorite; Animal Kingdom; Hollywood Studios, formerly Disney-MGM Studios, the kids' favorite; and Magic Kingdom). What's amazing about that old Disney magic is that we still were able to have a great time, for the most part.

The most serious bottleneck was at the Magic Kingdom. Not much magic was happening the first day we attempted to visit; the lines were long and quickly growing longer. There was even a long wait for "It's a Small World!" I told my hubby that people were simply trying to get in a line where they would be out of the sun and possibly exposed to some air-conditioning somewhere along the way. Any ride would do at that point -- for the same reason, Andrew and I ducked into the Tiki Room to hear some animatronic birds chirp. (Actually, the music was quite elegant, if dated.)

Though not as hot as here in South Texas, the weather was still rather brutally hot. It only rained one afternoon, which was a welcome respite from the humid heat of the other days we were there. During our stay, we celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary at Boma Restaurant in the Animal Kingdom lodge, which is one of the really outstanding culinary choices that the World offers (most are at World Showcase in Epcot Center). I gained a few pounds. Oh, forgot the many exclamation marks after 25 years married!! Surely I'm not that old. (I'm not -- I married young!)

Both of our kids were in tow. The last couple of days, they got tired and we returned them to the hotel room before driving back for more Disney insanity -- er, fun and lines for rides. It was good to have them both on vacation with us for perhaps the last time in a while, and we only had one serious argument with our (currently unruly) eldest son.

My husband has become a Disney fanatic. He was salivating over the thought of one day working for Disney. Which job seemed much less important than the idea of merely working for this legendary company. He could be a monorail guide, or a waiter raking in $25-and-up tips per table, or even a ride operator. It all looked so fun from our side of the aisle.

My take on Disney -- the theme parks are trying hard to keep up with the latest technology. There's still a significant "cool" factor to many of the rides. However, they have so much money sunk in rides that seemed, to me, to be outdated. My personal preference, still, would be going to visit a state or national park, or traveling out of the country. Those things may wait until we are less encumbered with teenage kids!

What Dwaine loves best about the whole Disney experience is their extreme emphasis on customer service, something that seems to be sorely lacking at many companies. Most of the employees, even the rank-and-file, were unfailingly helpful and pleasant. Many of them showed some special talent at talking with people, or in their general level of enthusiasm. For instance, our guide on the Jungle Cruise was good enough to be a contender in stand-up comedy, in my opinion -- and he was going a mile a minute on an extremely hot and humid afternoon, when most of the guests on the boat wore a dazed expression as the heat sucked out every last drop of energy from their limp bodies.

I am happy to report that I rode almost every roller coaster, even though I can report to you with complete confidence that Julie still hates roller coasters! I decided to go outside my comfort zone in this one small area. The result? Well, they were all pretty miserable. What I did was compare the whole experience to getting chemotherapy. In that light, I had to conclude that a few minutes of terror couldn't (quite) match what cancer patients have to go through. Actually, the Mission: Space, which involved a G-force blastoff simulation created by rapid spinning (imagine being inside a centrifuge), caused the greatest feeling of nausea, so the comparison turned out to be apt. (Read on to understand why chemo might be on my mind right now.) On the Rockin Roller Coaster (which I have never ridden before), I pretended I was Austin, who loves roller coasters. I imagined how he would be feeling during the 5G-force acceleration, the bottomless dives, the jolting turns and endless spirals. It got me out of my own small fearful self for a moment, and allowed me to relax a bit in the face of apparent doom. Is that what roller coasters are supposed to do? Allow us to face our fears and feel we can master them, or at least survive? (I don't get it, you see.)

The trip I'm on now is a journey of a whole different sort, with Dad. His illness has taken a turn for the worse, and it looks like rough times ahead.

He is taking chemo once weekly, hopefully for 4 weeks. He's had 2 doses so far. Then we'll see what comes next. We took our family vacation (with me on standby to return if needed) just a few days after he got the diagnosis, and just after chemo round one. It adds an almost unbearable sweetness to life, somehow, to see how brief -- how fragile -- it really is.

The joy and the tears

My hubby is cooking a delicious stir-fry for us for dinner. The three of us, that is. Our eldest son normally does not deign to dine with us anymore unless Austin-Allison make a joint appearance at the dinner table. My contribution to dinner tonight was to turn on the wrong burner on the stove, which I discovered when smoke began to billow from the bottom of the plastic cutting board that happened to be placed squarely on that burner. The odor of burning chemicals lingers. (For that reason, when I cook, the entire stove surface is always clear of flammable items! My husband hasn't learned that lesson, though maybe he did tonight.)

We may be approaching another turn in Dad's health (and not for the better), pending the results of a bone marrow biopsy. He says "he's just fine" -- a typical response -- and I should take our upcoming family vacation to DisneyWorld, which includes our 25th wedding anniversary. Even the oh-so-grown high school graduate in our family will be going! Sans girlfriend!

I haven't decided what to do yet. I need to know Dad's diagnosis, and prognosis, and how easily I could hop a flight back if I go.

Meantime, Dad's favorite occupation these days seems to be sleeping. He hasn't had much fight in him for a long time. Maybe he never did.

It's hard to know what to do with someone who apparently doesn't know the value of his own life, or who has given up on it. I've never been confrontational. That is not my style, for better or worse. I would rather just be present to someone else's feelings and preferences, most of the time. This has led, in the past, to some differences of opinion with my sister, who was more of a mind to try to kick Dad's butt into gear and out of bed.

Is it OK to sit by without argument while a loved one gives up on life? How about when it is your Dad? What about when his health, his quality of life, is greatly diminished and will never be the same? I guess I don't know the magic answer to reigniting someone's passion for life, especially if it may never have existed in the first place. I can only walk the walk of my own beliefs with as much integrity as possible. I am loathe to try to convert others to my way of seeing things, most of the time. I can't be so arrogant as to say that someone I disagree with is wrong.

What a wonderful grace that I found God and happiness, and so much meaning in this life! So many things have blossomed from that groundwork. And yet, happiness is a hard thing to plant in others. It's a tragedy that neither one of my parents ever seemed to be happy, or to find much fulfillment in life. I can't stand to think deeply about their sadness, because I start to sink into it myself. It's a part of me, always, as surely as my genes came from them. An ocean of tears. Yes, life is that! The great paradox is that for every tear there is an equal measure of joy! Joy! The two things, sorrow and joy, cannot exist apart from one another, and each points to the other, here on earth.

The great, unanswered question, is why some people see the joy as well as the tears, and others don't.

There does seem to be a time I apparently violate my own personal "Prime Directive" (any Trekkie fans out there? The prime directive forbids interference with alien cultures; in my case, it forbids interference with others' lives). That is with my children. Austin tells me that I am an intimidating person, with steep standards, who is very judgmental of him and his friends. Reluctantly, I have to believe that he sees me that way, anyhow. I can catch more than a glimmer of all that in myself.

Who does that remind me of? My own Mom, completely. She was always so full of information and rather enjoyed showing up the ignorance of others, which usually meant her immediate family! She always demanded a high level of achievement from me and my sister that she could point to and brag about, and we delivered endless disappointments. I think she lived vicariously through her dreams for her children. That's common for parents to do. But she also seemed to give up on her own progress in life, withdrawing from the outside world more and more over time. A lot of my life, subconsciously at least, is about being "not-Mom" -- about finding my own identity and not repeating her mistakes. But I've taken a page or two from her parenting book, after all. I don't know how I feel about that.

I know Mom has been closer in my consciousness as Dad's health has seemed to be more frail once again. It seems like their destinies are connected, although Mom died 13 years ago. Both of my parents came down with blood cancers. Mom had myelofibrosis that became acute myeloid leukemia. Dad has multiple myeloma and possibly something more now. So many myelo's! (Just looked up: Greek word meaning marrow, also used to refer to the spinal cord.) Both have been treated by the same oncologist, Dr. Lyons, a wonderful man who must be past retirement age by now but who hasn't stopped fighting hard for each of his patients yet. He has a great sense of humor that is probably required for anyone working in this field of care.

So what will the upcoming weeks bring? There will be joy -- a vacation with my family, the celebration of 25 years of marriage. I have to make the affirmation that there will be joy, no matter what!

There will be tears, too. (With me, that's inevitable.) But once again, like last summer, I can't face up to the mortality of my only remaining parent. It's just too much to comprehend.

In which our son, Austin, graduates

Austin, prom night

Dear blog/diary:

This graduation stuff sucks! Talk about an emotional roller-coaster ride. God, I'm glad that's done. However, what's next?

Austin (our oldest son) graduated last night, and turns 18 in a few days. He's got a foot still planted in youthful immaturity, having fallen hopelessly in love/obsession with a girl. But then there are those flashes of maturity that shine through. Like today.

But first -- what's up with half of Floresville turning out for the graduation ceremony? We got there 45 minutes early and pulled into one of the last parking spots, far from the stadium. (The graduation is held outdoors in the football stadium; I guess that's the only place big enough for it.) We made our way to the stadium only to find the seats all taken on the "home" side! We had to sit on the far side of the stadium, with the speakers' backs turned to us, but right by the band. We had been warned how packed it would be, but it was still a surprise.

This was my attitude about it: I was pissed! I mean, really? There were tons of people there just to watch the show, who didn't even have a family member graduating! Is Floresville really that much of a sleepy, boring hill-billy town that everyone thinks the high school graduation ceremony is the biggest thing happening? Yup, apparently so. Austin said, Mom, it's a small town! Graduation is a big deal!

Dwaine and Andrew got bored once the top 10% had graduated (Austin among them) and wanted to leave -- walk out, right there. I just couldn't do it. That would be too tacky! So we sat through the rest of the graduates being recognized. Then we snuck out early. So I didn't get to see everybody toss their caps in the air, though I did hear the ridiculous country song that the class picked out as its own. Something, Austin said, about "Driving my tractor and big-ass truck," maybe not in those exact words. You know? It fits, about half the population (actually, less than half these days). Could have used some spicy salsa music for the greater half, which is the population that Austin mostly hangs with.

Yesterday was a really tough day, at least for me. I was stuck on the idea that Austin was on the verge of wrecking his life with this girlfriend obsession. How could I possibly be happy about his graduation? I've been ping-ponging between being furious at Austin for some stupid choices he's made/will make, and realizing that this is my son, whom I love deeply, and nothing will ever change that. Last night after graduation, he called asking to go to the river with said girlfriend today, and I sulked, very noticeably, and practically hung up on him. Way to go, Mom! Way to model how to behave as a responsible adult! (I take a sardonic bow.) Hey, at least he still asks. Though, recently, he declined to follow our advice, and that is what really hurts.


I've had all the worst disaster scenarios making practice runs in my mind, which hops everywhere like a caffeine-crazed rabbit in times of stress. I tell you, I am so tired of being an unenlightened human being and having to endure all this suffering of my body, mind, and emotions. Most of it self-induced. But I can tell that people have really been praying for me (and practicing contemplation has definitely helped, too). Because as much dirt as my rabbity mind tries to kick up, I can still catch a glimmer of the truth.


Today, I was more emotionally centered (as of latest report) and wasn't trying to manipulate my child with my moodiness -- for the moment, anyhow! When Austin had rolled out of bed, taken his brother to work and returned home, I asked if he had time to mow the lawn (because I'm a big believer in giving a little to get a little, which means he still has responsibilities here if he wants to go enjoy life with his girlfriend/friends). He did mow the lawn, and when he was done, announced that his girlfriend had left without him. I said, well just drive on up there and meet them. He said, no, don't want to waste the gas. He was remarkably calm about it. He and I went on to talk about graduation, he showed me his brand-spanking new diploma, and he was completely normal and OK with everything, not sulky at all. What a man! He then left to go to a friend's house.

This is why it's so important for me to get a handle on my own feelings! It's amazing to see how much Austin mirrors me in that regard. Today, I was calm; he was calm. Though it is tempting to pull out the emotional stops and work them, baby, work them! That's probably why he felt compelled to mow the lawn today, because I was so upset about the whole river outing last night. Hey, it's manipulative, but it works! At least in the short run. Women everywhere are in on this little secret.

The truth? Goes something like -- Austin's life is his own now. He will make his own choices. We can decide, if he bombs out of school, that it is time for him to move out and support himself with a job instead of going to college. This is not the end of the world!! (I wanted to add a lot more exclamation points there, but I restrained myself.)

Whatever we do in response, the important thing is to act in love, not in anger, and to show Austin our love, not the petty anger. It's not that hard to do, especially with people praying for me. The real disaster would be if we wrecked our loving, close relationship with our son. That would be pretty much the end of the world, and I'm not willing to go there. No matter what.

It is no coincidence that I am going through a spiritual formation class right now that emphasizes contemplative practice. This is the Christian version of meditation, by the way. I need it in my life right now!

Our Memorial Day outing

I know you have been seriously deprived of visual aids on my blog for a long, long, time! This is what life looks like on a 17-acre "farm" nearby. By the way, I downloaded these from my iPhone!* (*with technical assistance from Austin.) 

 Andrew, mowing

 Dwaine and Mr. Gregory, who served in the U.S. Navy during the Korean War

 This is the farmland -- tomatoes, okra, beans and peas, corn, and table grapes

Here's the chicken coop

Andrew mowed the yard, Dwaine used the gas weedeater until his back wouldn't let him anymore (we forgot the shoulder strap), and I used a battery-operated weedeater! (Austin, as usual, was working at Sonic.)

There were about 4 freezers full of frozen vacuum-packed fruits and vegetables. We came home with a haul of garden-grown tomatoes, fresh corn, frozen blackberries (from Pullin's), peach jam, and frozen dry black-eyed peas. Yum!

No promises ... but with the Internet working, my technical skills sharpening (ha ha), and with more time on my hands, I may post more pictures here. A picture is worth a thousand words, they say.

The "State of my Life" address

Happy Memorial Day! In honor of today, we're going to go do the lawn of a retired veteran who's no longer able to do it himself. Sometime today, after Dwaine returns from a trip to get an oil leak fixed in our newest vehicle, the 2010 Toyota Corolla.

Thanks so much to my son Austin for fixing my wireless on my laptop! Apparently there is a toggle switch on the keyboard, function-F8, of which I was blissfully unaware until it somehow got toggled off and my Internet was down, down, down, down (as Bruce Springsteen would croon). I guess my boy's still useful for something! Otherwise, he is hopelessly in love and completely sidetracked by a new flame. When he's not obsessively texting her or physically with her, he's working (still the greaseboy at Sonic, where she also works). He's pretty much finished with school, although he has to go check in Tuesday - Friday. I don't know how he's going to make it in college, being as obsessed with her as he is at the moment. But a mother's love never fails, never gives up ...

Perhaps you could intuit that it's been a time of high emotional stress for me, lately. Austin's high school graduation is next Friday. I think I've untangled a few of the feelings flying around:

1. Mourning, for the loss of my child forever
2. A really bittersweet feeling about what it means to graduate from high school -- moving on, of never being able to return again to those carefree days of childhood (this is how I felt about my own graduation)
3. Jealousy, because my son is being taken away by another woman!
4. Worry, that my son is going off a cliff with this girlfriend and is going to ruin his life and his future, etc., etc.

Notice the lack of "happy" or "celebratory" feelings, although those do make appearances, too. They were present at the senior recognition services held at our church and at its Hispanic counterpart, El Mesias, the last two Sundays.

Otherwise, that's a potent stew of feelings, there. That would explain why I've had a couple of tossing and turning nights recently. All these dark feelings are mostly a reflection on me, and my personality. That's the realization that has kept me from going completely berserk! I can hold back from projecting them onto my son, when I am at my best. I must thank the contemplative practice for leading me to that grace. I've always had these very deep emotions at my disposal, for good or bad, throughout my entire life. They're practically my best friends now! "Hello darkness, my old friend ..." (Simon & Garfunkel) Actually, I couldn't bear to give up the depths of emotional feeling that God has gifted me with. So there! You're not really living until you are sobbing your eyes out at the grand tragedy of life!

Back to family matters. Dwaine & I are having some battles with Austin now because he's turning 18 and that makes him, in his eyes, "an adult." Ha! Ha! But laughing to his face doesn't really help matters (yeah, learned that the hard way). This, too, is a necessary rite of passage, though it makes the ride bumpy.

His latest wish-demand? To go off to the beach with the girlfriend for a weekend, which we've previously forbidden. The only real leverage we have now is to kick him out of the house and make him go it on his own, and I'm not ready (quite!) to do that. I want to give him a chance to succeed in college first. In the meantime, there's some serious negotiating that goes on all the time. He wants to hang out with his friends/girlfriend all the time ... I negotiate blocks of free time for him in return for household chores and other obligations, which he does. He's really quite responsible, helped along by frequent reminders. Did I mention he loves his brother, intensely? Their closeness is something I marvel at. And that he and I often text back and forth (either chatting or arguing), pretty much every day? He is still strongly connected to his family, but don't ask him to admit to that.

He's not a bad child, just misdirected at the moment, hormones in solid control of the decision center of his brain. Really, was I there once, too? Yes I was, and somehow -- God only knows how -- I survived to tell the story! And I didn't come out half bad, either!

I'm not sure what his character is going to be, and that's what frightens me to the core. However, it is out of my hands now, and I can honestly say I have done my best. Ouch! I can't mourn prematurely, though, much as I enjoy doing that ... imagining all the disasters looming, working myself up. That's one of my strongest personality traits! Can anyone relate to that? I think that's an actual family trait. Not naming any names here, but I do think that there are several other family members (esp. on my mom's side) with this lovely sort of anxiety disorder.

I must remember what Thomas Jefferson said: "How much pain the evils cost us, that never happened." (It's on my wall at work to remind me, one of Jefferson's top 10 quotes.)

And then there's this: "Put it in the God box!" I do, and then take it out again and fret some more, then put it back in. At night, it just comes out, like all the stuff that came out of Pandora's box, haunting me, and I have to deal with it somehow, alone in the dark ... that's where my life is, at the moment. But I know that others suffer too, and I can commune with them now as I couldn't when I was younger.

Thanks so much to Alice Lackness, my companion in the spiritual formation class at church, for crying too, and for giving me some perspective that this, too, shall pass. It helps me so much, as well, to write it all out. Somehow, it gives me a lot more emotional distance and perspective. Having that list of feelings, above, is a great help. It hadn't been clear until I wrote it all down.

On to the next crisis!!