Category Archives: Family

Memory Imperfect

Lughnasa                                                                 Labor Day Moon

4-A5C54CF7-1230171-8004-CA2E3357-1456389-800Today the grandkids again. Tomorrow with them the Georgetown Loop Railroad. I took them and their parents on it in 2012. Here’s a couple of photographs to show you how they liked it then. Now, they want to go back. Memory is an imperfect thing.

Yesterday we got Kate her birthday present. At 71 Grandma got a smart phone. The grandkids made fun of her old-fashioned phone, a flip top cell. They have no idea what an old-fashioned phone really looks like. Lots of bakelite.

I know I’ve been waxing philosophical over the last few days, maybe even the last few weeks. I think it’s a response to renewed life, getting serious about work again and the gradual, but steady finishing of the loft. This latter gives me a space where I can be serious and I need a certain quantum of seriousness in my day to feel balanced.

 

 

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.

More Real Life

Lughnasa                                                                            Recovery Moon

ruth250Grandson Gabe is up here watching you-tube videos on his I-pod. I’m shelving more books, trying to get an accurate estimate of how many more of the tall shelves I’ll need. Maybe only 4.

(Ruth yesterday after Buffalo Bill. She’s 9.)

Eric and the other 3 men of Alpha Electric came out this morning, inserted steel piping into the holes underneath the generator and carried it like a sedan chair, placing it near the stub of gas pipe Herb and John installed last Monday. Alpha Electric has a lot of work right now, just finishing up the El Rancho remodel off I-70 in Evergreen and about to take up the 40,000 sq foot horse barn cum enclosed practice area. That one is very close to us.

Kate250Both Kate and I are enjoying the time with the kids, longer periods where we can interact with them more. Ruth is in Denver today, having a chipped tooth repaired. The chipper, Gabe via a thrown remote, will pay for the repair out of his own money jar. Family life has its complications, but that’s part of what makes it so interesting.

(Grandma after Buffalo Bill)

Friend Tom Crane observed in a recent e-mail that the third phase shifts priorities from intellect driven achievement to matters of the heart, especially focused on those close to us. True that.

The Wild West

Lughnasa                                                             Recovery Moon

The grandkids, Ruth and Gabe, are spending several overnights with us this week and next. Daughter-in-law Jen got a new job in the Aurora School District. Her move back to Aurora from the Denver School District means she had to start work earlier than planned, leaving Ruth and Gabe with two weeks until their school starts and no parents at home.

Yesterday Kate and Ruth made a messenger bag. Ruth designs things in her head, finds fabric she likes and grandma sews things together. They’re a fashion co-operative. Kate’s teaching her to use a sewing machine, too. Gabe and I talked up in the loft yesterday while I moved books.

Around 11 we all went to Chief Hosa Lodge, where Jon and Jen got married. Ruth and Gabe had been there once, some time ago. They climbed around, imagined Mom and Dad getting married, then we took off for Buffalo Bill Cody’s gravesite and museum.

An excellent small museum. Buffalo Bill wanted to be buried on Lookout Mountain “because you can see four states from here.” This did not make the folks in Cody, Wyoming happy. They offered $10,000 for his body.

A special exhibit focused on the international nature of his Wild West Show, emphasizing the range of nationalities and ethnicities working and touring together. It was an astonishing global cast. The museum’s exhibit says they worked together harmoniously.

Ruth and Gabe spent most of their time at the museum rearranging colored blocks into various bead work patterns.

After taking them back home, Kate and I watched a funnel cloud over Aurora. As long as we saw it, it stayed up in the sky, moving a white thread toward the ground twice. That was enough for me and I activated old Midwestern instincts and drove away from it at a right angle.

 

Stained Fingers

Summer                                                         Recovery Moon

Jon and I went to Paxton Lumber Company yesterday, checking out exotic and not-so-exotic woods for material to extend the surface of the shorter shelving units. A couple of the ones I really liked were $20 and $19 a board foot, padauk and wenge. At those prices one board, thick, was in the $300 range. After looking at ash, white pine, and douglas fir, all of which I liked but were too close to the birch veneer on the bookshelves, we settled on black walnut.

Not only will the black walnut contrast with the birch veneer, black walnut trees were common in my hometown of Alexandria, Indiana. I have fond memories of stepping on the green acrid smelling husks of walnuts as they fell from those trees. We teased out the walnuts tucked inside and took them home, fingers stained with a greenish-yellow paste that had a bitter lemony taste. A part of my childhood. Also, black walnut trees were part of the old forest which dominated the landscape of the midwest prior to westward expansion. So those boards of the midwest will rest on birch veneer, redolent of the boreal forest in Minnesota. But the bookcases they constitute reside here on Shadow Mountain among lodgepole and ponderosa pines.

We ate lunch at Park Burger in the Hilltop neighborhood of Denver, a wealthy area with tear-down lots filled now with house reminiscent of Kenwood in Minneapolis. I had a Scarpone burger with pancetta, provolone and giardiniera. It was delicious.

Jon’s skills as a woodworker were evident as we selected the particular walnut boards. We matched their color, thickness and rejected some with too deep fissures or splits. He knows the woods and their characteristics. He also knows the places where exacting cuts can be made, straight. One place has a table saw as large as a small room.

Once again the joy of returning home from Denver’s 94 degrees to Shadow Mountain’s 77 with 23% humidity. The nights have been warm of late, making sleeping more difficult and pushing those ceiling fan purchases higher up on our priority list.

Focused

Summer                                                                       Recovery Moon

The early morning sun through a high eastern window here in the loft falls on books stacked high on the new bookshelves. They’re awaiting space as more shelving opens up. My focus, until labor day, is getting the loft organized so I can get back to work. I’m pretty sure it will all come together by then.

Yesterday, a Sunday, was a slow day. Into Evergreen for our money meeting at a cafe overlooking Evergreen lake. The lake is a focal point and source of pride though it would be unremarkable in Minnesota. A jewelry store owner told me there are tiger muskies in it. It’s fed by Bear Creek, so the water would be cold and fresh. Could be.

No matter where you go around here there are bicyclists climbing steep mountain roads, families getting out of their cars to hike on mountain trails, and, as in Evergreen yesterday, lot of runners. This place moves. It’s very encouraging for exercise.

Looking forward to Paxton Lumber today and picking out tabletop and countertop woods. Jon and I are going out for lunch afterwards.

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.

 

 

 

The First of July

Summer                                                                  Healing Moon

Hodges Plumbing came out yesterday. They will install the gas line to the generator. Gary or Mike Hodges, I didn’t get his first name, arrived in a red truck and wearing overalls, has a gray handlebar mustache, gets up slowly after visiting the crawl space, and has a train whistle as his ringtone. I liked him.

The generator has to get over to the breaker boxes first, of course, and that’s Eric Ginter’s job. He and 3 other guys will muscle it out of the garage and over to the west side of the house. Eric will install the automatic transfer switch and hook up the generator to it. The automatic transfer switch starts the generator when power goes out in the house and shuts it off when the power returns.

While waiting for Hodges to arrive, I cut down aspen suckers and painted them with an herbicide designed to take out heavy brush and poison ivy. In the wild aspens throw out suckers in a ring around a parent tree. When the suckers grow to a certain size, they throw out more. One of the largest living organisms is an aspen stand which began from one tree*. I’m encouraging certain aspens by not cutting them down, but leaving them enough space to grow large. They are fire resistant, as Jacob Ware, deputy chief for the Elk Creek Fire Protection District, said. “Water, not pitch.”

In the evening we went again to Dazzlejazz, having been there last Friday with Tom and Roxann, this time with Jon and Jen. It was a sweet evening. We gave Jon a large gift to help pay down his student loan debt, part of the house sale proceeds. They were both surprised. They asked about my surgery and how they could support Kate. We listened to groups of teen jazz musicians, two jazz bands and a choral group. One tenor sax player really caught my attention, an edgy growly sound.

We drove into the mountains, back home, with Venus and Jupiter in conjunction and a bright full healing moon hanging in the southwestern sky.

*The Pando (Utah) grove consists of about 47,000 tree trunks, and it covers a little more than 100 acres of land. Overall, researchers believe it could weigh 13-million pounds.

Yet Another Appointment

Summer                                                                   Healing Moon

Today is my pre-op/post-op consultation with Dr. Eigner’s physician’s assistant, Ann. She’ll go over what I need to do for surgery prep, what we can expect during the surgery and immediately after, then give us post-op instructions. My level of comfort with all this is substantially higher with Kate involved, both because she’ll be there to hear what I miss and because her own skills make her over-qualified to help me before and after surgery.

I continue to sleep well, have no symptoms (none expected, but still good). Since we are now 10 days out, I’ve stopped my aspirin. My feelings have become more labile as the surgery approaches, which makes sense to me.

The surgery itself has a paradoxical quality, as I imagine many such surgeries do. The paradox is this. It offers me real hope, an opportunity to continue my third phase cancer free. And, that, of course, is the reason for the surgery. On the other hand it has attendant pain and discomfort, improbable but possible complications.

It also might reveal that the cancer is worse than we imagine.  My staging included the seemingly innocent, NxMx. The N refers to the status of the lymph nodes near the prostate and the M refers to possible metastasis, or the spread of the cancer to the rest of the body. The x means unknown.

This is where the paradox becomes strong, intense. The surgery might (probably will) move me past this whole episode. In that case, hallelujah. Or, it might dash that hope and begin another series of tests and treatments. In that case, uh-oh.

The good news is that if Eigner had suspected lymph node or metastatic involvement he would have ordered imaging studies prior to surgery. He didn’t. That’s a positive sign, but only that. We won’t know until the surgery is over, perhaps not even then. We may have to wait on the pathology report, or even the first few p.s.a readings in the year + after surgery.

My emotions ride along the trajectory of which outcome dominates my mood. Most of the time I imagine negative margins on the removed prostate. That means no cancer cells in the tissue surrounding the removed organ. Not definite relative to NxMx, but very positive. Occasionally my rational side will bring me up short while I’m feeling good about this most likely outcome. Wait, it says. You might be right, but what if you’re wrong. Then, you’re feelings will fall from the height of hope to the canyon of uncertainty. Oh. Right.

When rationality moves me to consider all the possible outcomes, then I can slip into fear. One problem with an active imagination (7 novels and one underway) is that I have no difficulty following the path of more tests, more treatment all the way to death. The first feeling that comes in the wake of that thought is fear.

I’ve worked out over the last 50 or so years, a philosophical position that calms me before the fear dominates and shakes my foundations. Usually. Nothing’s 100 percent. I’ve expressed it elsewhere. The short version is: something, some time. It’s buttressed too by my belief that life is the mystery, death is ordinary. And those rocks around Turkey Creek and Deer Creek Canyon roads. The ones that have been here so much longer than I’ve been alive and will be here so much longer after I die.