Category Archives: Friends

Hear the Other

Lughnasa                                                            Labor Day Moon

Read an article today that wondered if we might be coming to a four party moment in American political history. The far right tea party and their running dogs, what’s left of the Republican party that’s center-right, the center-left politics of Hillary and mainstream democrats and the leftist politics of Bernie Sanders and his followers. This could be true and may well reflect the deepening among political factions.

In itself I find nothing amazing about this. Two party politics has produced two centrist groups both organized around protecting corporate America. Each has slightly different inflections, pro-defense spending on the right and pro-social programs like Social Security and Medicare on the left, but in their design to retain status quo economics both look and act much the same. Neither will either one get too far into the so-called values voter mess, preferring to avoid such topics as gay marriage, abortion, fringe positions on patriotism and the widening inequities in our economy. In these matters they have taken safe positions, neither too for nor too against, and hope they’re cover won’t be blown.

What I find troubling here is that we may be coming to a point where factions no longer speak to or with one another, but past one another. Recall how many times you’ve seen an article or heard a remark about an opposing point of view from your own and dismissed it. Not thoughtfully analyzed it, but dismissed it altogether. If I see a remark about the sanctity of the family, Benghazi or Muhammad Obama, my mind glazes over with thin ice and I go on to something else.

And here’s where I want to say a good word for Facebook. Many of my high school classmates, perhaps some of yours, have grown into a partisan place among one of the four factions. I know I have. Family members, too, and some odd folks that get inserted along the way who knows how also populate other factions than my own. In this way I see posts about leaving the country if you burn the flag, the glories of Donald Trump, the essential fact of Hillary’s candidacy, even the occasional call for fiscal responsibility.

My first, second and third reaction to these posts was OMG. What are these people thinking? Or, are they thinking? In other words I was dismissive. That thin ice covered my attention and I slid on to different material.

More recently though I’ve had another take on it all. I have known Larry Cummings, Jim Oliver, Mike Thomas, Connie Cummins since they were kids. When they and others post things that makes the ice begin to crystallize over my attention, I have to wonder, can I dismiss persons I know so well? Granted we’ve grown into adults with different lifeways and probably started with different assumptions based on our families of origin, but are they no longer to be heard?

Struggling with this, knowing I still disagreed with what they believe, I still cared about them, still found their lives and their journeys interesting, worth keeping up on. I could have this realization because I knew each of them from elementary school, some even before that. So, I began to wonder, are the tea party folks whom I don’t know really any different from Larry, Jim, Connie and Mike? Of course not.

What I’m getting at here is that in spite of our differences in political orientation, we are still citizens of the same country, folks on the same journey in this life, part of the broader human family. I may disagree with them, wonder how anyone could buy that point of view, but they are still folks I know and want to continue to know. Might be I’m trying for the political equivalent of Martin Luther, something like disagree with the belief, but love the believer.

In doing that I imagine a world where not only can we respect our differences, but seek hard for our common ground. Knowing these folks, I’m sure family is important to them and so are the communities in which they now find themselves living. Me, too. Perhaps that’s where we can start to hunt for coalition building. Or, another example, I’m sure these folks want clean lakes in which to fish and healthy forests in which to hunt. Good schools for their children and economic opportunities for them as they grow. They probably want a financially and medically secure old age for themselves, too. We need to talk to each other, walk on each other’s thin ice until one of us breaks through.

Pot-roast and vegetables

Lughnasa                                                                        Recovery Moon

IMAG0833Buddy Tom Crane’s work takes him across the country, making him a favorite of airlines and the Marriot Hotel Corporation. In Denver for some work he came up to Shadow Mountain for supper last night. Kate slow-cooked a pot roast* and vegetables and made a raspberry pie from our still substantial cache of Andover raspberries.

We spoke of those kind of things third phasers often do: hearing aids, grandchildren, mutual friends, recent surgery, thoughts on who delivers care when no family is around. Of course, the content is less important the context, the being together, being seen and being heard. The importance of this last is underlined by Tom’s mother who at 98 has outlived all her friends. She’s become reclusive over the past few years. Friendship is not trivial, it’s a life-sustaining need and when it begins to disappear it matters.

 

*You can take the couple out of the Midwest, but…

Again, Gratitude

Summer                                                                      Recovery Moon

It no longer feels like I’m walking into a stiff headwind, head down and seeing only my feet. Now the sky is sunny, a gentle breeze blows at my back. Again, gratitude to all who held my hand during the last three months. I needed that.

Wow. And to Jon, who put together four more bookshelf units, connected three to the others already installed. I’ve got some shelving to do. We also ordered the last three units, one with shelves and doors for tea and coffee making. On Monday Jon and I will go to Paxton Lumber and pick out some exotic wood for the top to my work table and to use for making the short bookshelves tops wider.

After the final bookshelves are put together and connected, Jon will assemble the wire shelving. That will eliminate the pony wall of bankers boxes currently separating my workout space from the rest of the loft. When that’s done, the only major tasks left will be utilizing the art crates as functional island dividers, buying a small refrigerator and reconfiguring the workout space with the pull-up bar over the rubber mats.

 

 

 

Third Phase Summary

Summer                                                            Recovery Moon

The third phase. First phase: childhood/education through at least high school, maybe undergraduate college. Second Phase: career/family formation. Third phase: Post career with adult children. This last phase has become an extended and to some extent new part of normal life. In the recent past the third phase was often short, interrupted by illness and often marred by poverty and ended not long after it began, especially for men.

Advances in medical science, improved social security and medicare and the maturation of the baby boom generation have combined to push the third phase into greater and greater prominence. We live longer, with better health and improved economic conditions. Too, the large population bulge of the baby boom is forcing society to see the third phase. In the past it may have been possible to consign the aging third phaser to the margins of society, but with the huge numbers of those born between 1946 and 1964 third phase citizens will be a larger and larger percentage of the population.

This is exciting. It allows our culture as a whole to reconsider the third phase and its implications for both individuals and society. Since the third phase is post career/work and usually represented by a couple with no children at home, it places an inflection point on the question of individual worth. The normal external markers affecting self-worth are employment and children. Both of these are in the past for most third phasers. Or, at least the time when they dominated an individual’s life is in the past.

Though it may be frightening to some this means that we each get the opportunity to reshape our lives, often around activities more closely aligned to our own interests. Kate, for example, always a hand-worker and seamstress, now focuses on quilting. I was able, earlier than most third-phasers, to focus on writing, political work and the arts, interests which sustain me now in my late 60’s. Family is still important, of course, with grand children and the lives of adult children, but those interactions happen occasionally rather than daily. This allows a pleasant mix of intimate, family contact while ensuring enough time for independent activities.

The third phase continues to fascinate me as I see friends headed into it and experience it myself with Kate. Friendships matter even more, with the hard work of friendship done while family and career dominated, and become increasingly precious as those factors reduce in importance. In my case the Woolly Mammoths and the docent corps continue to enrich the third phase.

 

 

 

BFFs

Summer                                                              Healing Moon

Down to new Bent’s Fort in Morrison last night. Perched high in the red rock (Fountain formation) foothills overlooking a glittery Denver to the east, the Fort is an unusual Western experience. Tom and Roxann Crane took us out for a second wonderful meal and honest, heartfelt conversation.

This meal really started over 28 years on a cold January late afternoon when Tom and I were initiated into the Woolly Mammoths at Valhelga. No kidding, that’s the name. It’s the family retreat of the Helgeson clan, designed by architect and fellow Woolly, Stefan Helgeson. Tom and I didn’t know each other then, though in the six degrees of connection way we had mutual friends.

Since that time both Tom and I have married again, this time to the last partner. We’ve shared twice monthly meetings, annual retreats with this group of 11 men. The relationship among the Woollies now has decades of memories, intense and often intimate sharing, hard times and good times. The extraordinary piece of the experience is the durable and deep friendships we have formed with each other. These are not buddy relationships with a lot of backslapping, sports watching, gun shooting or fish line throwing; rather, these are bff type friendships, now irrevocable and unbelievably precious.

These men will be with me when I fade out on the morning of July 8th and when I wake up hours later. Their support and that of family, docent friends and high school classmates will make that isolated moment far from lonely. Too, they all constitute a reason to recover and continue living this one life.

 

 

Fear Was My Co-Pilot

Summer                                                      Healing Moon

Had my pre-op physical this morning, two weeks before my surgery date of July 8th. On the way over I drove through Turkey Creek and Devil’s Creek canyons, a beautiful backway to the southern Denver suburb of Littleton.

I was afraid on the way over. I’ve been distracted and anxious, unsettled so far on this journey, but have not felt afraid. The fear crept in as I drove, not paralyzing, but evident. The beauty of the canyons with their pines and aspens, the exposed rock and the mountain sides climbing up for the road soothed me. That’s why I chose that route.

Those rocks, I thought, have been here long, long before me and will be here long, long after me. At an intellectual level I find that comforting. Today though the surgery was getting more and more real. The fact of cancer, too. The fear was not about the surgery or the recovery. It was about the results of the surgery.Will I be cured or will there be lingering doubts, cells that escaped into the lymph nodes or into the body?

98% of the time I believe Eigner will get all the malignant cells and the pathology report will relieve me. 2% of the time, I’m not sure. Today was/is all 2%.

Dr. Gidday, my internist who did my pre-op, was great. She referred her 82 year old father to Eigner when he was diagnosed. She trusts Eigner and so do I. Dr. Gidday’s nurse Katie, who had another patient and couldn’t check me in, stuck her head in the room and asked me how I was doing. There’s a lot of caring in that office and I feel it.

Fear seems natural to me, so I’m just reporting it. It’s not dominating me. At least not right now.

 

Surgery July 8

Beltane                                           Closing Moon

The consultation with the urologist went well. My cancer has some outside the prostate presence, which makes the situation a bit more dire, but still one within the reach of a radical prostatectomy.

Kate and I both feel good about Dr. Eigner, the surgeon/urologist, and his experience. He’s done hundreds of robotic prostatectomies and hundreds of open prostatectomies. Practice is important.

We discussed the options, from hormone treatment to radiation to surgery. The moderately advanced nature of my cancer, my age and general health (good), make me a logical candidate for surgery. Kate and I had decided that already.

On the irrational side, I want that organ out of me. It’s no longer on my side. On the rational side surgery gives me the best chance of negative margins, a procedure in which all the cancer is removed, none showing at the tissue margins.

I feel good this evening, at peace with the choice, confident in the skill of my doctor and the support of family and friends.

A Yamantaka Moment

Beltane                                                        Closing Moon

Yama
Yamantaka

So. Today is June 11th. I feel a small hole in the pit of my stomach. Not often you meet a day when your life is at stake, but this is one of those days for me. This afternoon we’ll find out the stage (severity & aggressiveness) of my cancer. We’ll also decide on a course of treatment.

It’s been an interesting time since the initial news from the biopsy. Once I absorbed that information and read the Schwartz book on Surviving Prostate Cancer, I’ve let the matter go for the most part, at least at a feeling level. There was a bracket around the time between then, late May and now, mid-June. In that bracketed time no new information could be gained and no action could be taken.

Now that bracketed time is over and the next steps, the real choices are just ahead. My confidence level is still high. Kate’s knowledge and support is essential as is encouragement from friends and family. Dr. Eigner is competent and practiced, and, unusually, open to serious questions and probing. I’ve done my research, have a list of questions.

The appointment is at 2:30. More later.

Get set, get ready

Beltane                                                             Beltane Moon

It’s a wonderful day in the neighborhood. For a biopsy. Slept well. Think I sussed out on my own the culprit in my lower oxygen readings. Trazodone. I stopped taking it a couple of days ago and I slept well (ironic, since it’s a sleep aid.) plus my breathing has returned to normal.

I have no fear, not even of the procedure itself, nor its possible information. Doesn’t feel like denial. (But, would I know if it was?) The details of the procedure and its possible results are clear to me. Though death does seem to hang around these intersections like a prostitute looking for a trick, I’m in no way tempted. Life, as long it runs, is good.

Whatever transpires, this whole month (it was april 14 when i saw lisa for my physical) has been an intrapsychic marathon, 26 miles of self-examination, staying with the feelings, considering worst outcomes. It has also been a month in which friends (especially the Woollies) and family have helped me stay strong and clear.

It could have been otherwise. One of the things that worried me when we moved out here was the loss of my friends. But I’ve found that those relationships, docents and Woolly Mammoths alike, transcend distance. The warmth and support I’ve felt from all of you is no less, perhaps even a bit more, for traveling 900 miles.

So, thanks to you all. I’ll get back to you with the results.

Places are strange

Beltane                                                                            Beltane Moon

The plane performed its wonder, lifting a couple of hundred people into the air. The full Beltane moon lit up the clouds passing by underneath. I stared out the window, a bit confused, leaving Minnesota to return home. This required an adjustment in my thinking.

Then, when I arrived at my home airport, it was strange, another place on the road with unfamiliar paths and habits. Mostly I enjoy learning new things, but it was 10 pm, almost my bedtime and I stumbled a bit, as I would in an airport unknown to me. This experience conflicted with Kate waiting in the cell-phone lot, ready to pick me up and take me back to the mountains. Odd.

Coming home to Colorado, the first time from away. The Woolly retreat for 2015 now over.

It’s a cliche. Felt like I never left. But true. Slipping back into the physical presence of my friends, my Woolly brothers, was like putting on a comfortable shirt. It just fit. Coming as it did a couple of weeks after the start of the prostate path, it was especially welcome. One friend has had prostate surgery. Another knew many who had. Most of the news was positive. Cures, few side effects. Offers to talk further as the path winds on. So welcome.

I suspect the level of my comfort at Camp du Nord, about a half-hour north and west of Ely, figured inversely to the level of strangeness I felt when returning to Colorado. But. I had no desire to remain in Minnesota, to reconsider our decision. I wanted to get home.

More on the retreat later.