Category Archives: Family

Changes

Fall                           Waxing Dark Moon

The leaves have finally changed color in our yard.  It happened almost over night.  Many went dry before they turned, but more have become red, gold, yellow.  The colors of fall are as much a part of our landscape as the snowdrops and daffodils are of spring.   Fall’s color gives us one last Times Square moment from the vegetal world before the emphasis moves to the monochromatic grace and elegance of winter.

Sounds like Dr. Mary Ellis may visit over Thanksgiving.  The Singapore government nixed an earlier visit due to the H1N1 virus.  Mary’s had a lot going on over the last four years.   Working and finishing a dissertation has never been easy; it consumed extra time and holidays.  This would be the first Thanksgiving I can recall in a long time that she would be here.  It’s always good to have family around during holiseason.

Kate comes home today.  Her primary exercise for the next bit of time will be walking.  Yes, she’s up and about.  No 100 yard dashes in the near term, but moving is good, real good.  She cannot twist, so no Chubby Checker’s music on the CD player.  She also has to bend at the waist, no flexing of the back.  She will need percocet for a few weeks.

Fortunately hand work is how Kate spends time while listening to lectures at continuing medical education so she has projects to keep her busy.

As soon as she’s able (maybe right now), she can also start using the treadmill.  5 minutes at first, then more as she heals.

The House That Harvey Built, We Have Made a Home

Fall                                                New (Dark) Moon

The house that Harvey built ( Harvey Kadlec) as a model house for Kadlec Estates–3122 153rd Ave. NW, Andover, Minnesota–became a home long ago.  The kids have contributed memories and projects.  The land around the house has had many iterations of plants and vegetables.  Kate has sewing materials and tools scattered here and there.  I have books and computers.vegachair

With Kate off in the hospital this home reverts part way to house.  Without her here part of the spirit of the home dwells elsewhere.

Houses are inanimate, things of wood and metal, pipes and plastic.  The house, or the apartment, at least in America, will have serial occupants.   Except for those folks who work with architects, their construction and  siting decided by someone else, often a construction company, these sophisticated shells provide shelter from the elements and changing seasons.  Various ports of entry connect a house to electrical service providers, a gas company, a cable or satellite service for TV and broadband internet, water and sewage removal.  Often a patch of earth surrounds the house, a buffer between the house and the outside world.

A home, now that’s another matter.  A home is a house (or apartment) that has been made real in the Velveteen Rabbit way.  It may have a step or two that jiggle when walked upon.  Maybe one or two windows have their weatherstripping coming loose.  The floors probably have scuff marks and once pristine walls have chips showing the wall board beneath.  At any time there is probably a light bulb out somewhere.  The gas fireplace stopped working two or three years ago.  The water pressure is not what it once was.

That brand new furniture that looked so good in the show room?  A dog is asleep there now with a young boy.  The cat scratched the chair and though long dead her mark remains.  The beds in the home have bred dreams, consoled sadness and rocked with anticipation on holiday mornings.  Showers have cleansed little boys before t-ball games, girls before prom, mom and dad before anniversary dinners or after funerals.

Cars have been dissected across the dining room table.  Gardens planned.  Weddings, too.  Thanksgiving dinners and birthday parties.  The oven still has the remnants from a first cake.

Kate on Tuesday

Fall                                              New (Dark) Moon

Back from the hospital to visit Kate.  She has the blue plastic line with its black plunger next to her at all times so she can get in the morphine drip for her current fifteen minute period.  Aside from the bout with nausea during standing at around 8:30 am, she seems in reasonable, if not great spirits.  She did stand without nausea later in the day, a big step, but the pain is still intense while upright.

The People magazine I brought for her has a picture/picture puzzle where you have to identify the things that change from one picture to its near-identical twin below.  I gave it to her and she found 6 right away (out of 10).

We chatted off and on about the dogs, Ruth, her sisters, hospital care and the every dependable quality of hospital food (mediocre).  She feel asleep from the morphine at one point.  I wandered off and got supper, takeout from McDonald’s.  This seemed appropriate to me since the spine folks share floors with the Minneapolis Heart Hospital.  I figured my meal could bring me back to those very precincts. When I got she back, she had her meal:  tomato soup, chocolate pudding, a fruit drink and, best of all, Coffee!  We ate together while a cold rain fell and a mist settled over the skyline of Minneapolis.

She doesn’t like the condition she’s in right now, but in her words, “I signed up for it, so I need to suck it up.”  Hmmm.

That’s all the news from Lake Woebegone for today.

Kate’s Big Day

Fall                                                 New (Dark) Moon

Speaking too soon.  Vertigo returned last night, stronger than at any point during this last spell.  Damn.  An annoying experience.  This morning, so far, I feel uneasy, but ok.  Hope that continues since we have a lot going on today.

Kate’s big day.  We go in around 11:00 for her 1 p.m. procedure.  Once she’s out of her surgery and in recovery, that is, after I know for sure things have gone ok, I have to come home to feed the dogs and take a nap.  She’ll be at Abbott-Northwestern in Minneapolis for the duration, estimated at 2 days.

New Wedding Ring

Fall                                       Waning Blood Moon

Got a new wedding ring yesterday.  It came from Everything Jewish and has Hebrew lettering.  Along with the too big for my ring finger ring Kate bought in Jackson Hole this summer, it replaces the original, now awaiting discovery by some lucky person.  I can imagine some kid, years in the future, coming in and saying, “Hey, Mom.  Look what I found!”  A gift to the future from Vega the wonder dog.

This moves me one small step closer to the Jewish community, a place I’ve always felt comfortable.  From what I know of Chinese and Jewish culture I could have been comfortable in either.  Which is not to say that I’m uncomfortable in my American culture.  I’m not.

More Fence.

Fall                      Waning Blood Moon

Dan the fence guy came out again.  This time we’re fencing in the vegetable garden, a five foot high fence and a taut wire to run along the top of the orchard fence.  Rigel is an expensive dog.  Really expensive.  A sweetheart, yes, but a major league nuisance, too.  The electric fence, I’m proud to say, has done its job.  No more escapes since it went up.

Kate and I reupholstered the couch this afternoon, the seat cushion.  In the process I thought back over growing up and could not remember a single thing Dad ever fixed.  I’m sure he must have fixed something, but I don’t recall what it was.  Anyhow, fixing stuff ratchets up my annoyed level to unpleasant proportions because I always struggle.  The outcome does not match the effort for me.  Kate, when able, has a different ratio of effort to outcome and has a much better time.

A good run with no trips into the city.  That makes getting things done here much easier.

Kate’s in the calm before the storm, but it isn’t very calm, at least from a pain stand point.  This kind of pain, constant and intense, exacts a psychological toll as well as a physical one.  The pain requires, demands attention.  That is, after all, the point of pain.  Hey.  You.  Pay.  Attention. Now.  That attention adds a level of stress to all daily activities.  Also, at 65 any infirmity at all raises questions of mortality, of fitness for life as we’ve known it.

This is the right decision at the right time after two + years of exhausting less drastic and nominally invasive procedures.

The Day So Far

Fall                                       Waning Blood Moon

Over to Joann Fabrics this morning to pick up some butterfly brocade for a dress Kate will make for Ruth.  As the only guy in line to have fabric cut, I had a chance to observe the female of the species in one of her traditional habitats.  The woman in front of me had on a pink fleece and nice pink bow in her hair.  She also stood about thirty feet behind the cutting counter, making those of us behind her stand right smack in the aisle where people pushed their carts.  I see this same behavior sometimes at traffic lights where someone (gender not at issue) chooses to wait three car lengths behind the next car.  What’s up with that?

When I got home, I plucked the decorative squash from the vine, then went over to the black beans still on the vine and gathered them into one of our large woven harvest baskets.  That’s the end of the harvest.  As the WCCO weather guy put it in the  paper this morning, the growing season is over.

After this I made a sugar cream pie, a Hoosier recipe I learned.  It’s a childhood favorite and it pops up in my need to have box once in a while. It has four ingredients:  flour, sugar, butter and cream.  Easy to make and no nutritional value at all.  But boy is it tasty.

Spent a couple of hours watching the Vikes beat the Rams.  They looked pretty good.  Won 38-10.  Tavaris Jackson passed for a touchdown late in the 4th quarter.  That’s a hopeful sign.

Understanding the Anxious Mind

Fall                                     Waning Blood Moon

Finally, a city criteria list worth paying attention to:  The Daily Beast has ranked America’s Smartest Cities.  The Twin Cities come in 4th after, in order, Raleigh-Durham, San Francisco and Boston.  Denver is 5th.  Las Vegas and Fresno, California bring up the rear at 54th and 55th.  It’s an interesting read.

Kate’s surgery happens on October 19th and the surgeon requires that she stop taking her nsaid.  That means she has less pain control on board so her pain level has begun to ramp up.  This is only the first day without it.  Ouch.  We’ve also begun to reconnoiter what changes we’ll have to make in the house for her recovery period.  Move a comfy chair in front of the TV in place of the couch.  Things like that.thedress625

Kate’s sewing a lot.  She’s finished a butterfly costume complete with antennas and wings as well as a purple jumper for granddaughter Ruth.  She wants to get all this stuff done before she’s post-op.

If you have an anxious bone in your body, well, better, if you have an anxiety prone amygdala, then reading this article might interest you:  The Anxious Mind.  It recounts the work of Jerome Kagan who established the genetic imprint on reactivity.  His work undergirded the notion of a fixed temperament.

As a high reactive myself, I found the notion of a genetic imprint for anxiety strangely liberating.  It made me feel that my state was not a character flaw, but part of the package.  The article makes all the nuancing you might want related to nurture, triggers and coping skills, but the clear fact remains that people like me are the way we are because we have a hypervigilant amygdala.

When I finish sermons a week ahead of time,  investigate the costs of medicare drug and health care plans now, a year or two early, and plan my tours at least a week in advance, I display a learned strategy for managing my anxiety.  That’s why I’m not good in a crisis or under a crushing deadline.  I need time to prepare, to think things through.  I bring sufficient pressure to bear on myself.  I don’t need external stimuli.

After I got done reading this article and realizing that I was on one end of the bell curve–again, I began to wonder–again–what it must be like to have a normal, stable reaction to the work, a calm feeling in the pit of your stomach instead of a roiling mess.

It also became clear to me that I had a trigger that moved my anxiety from genetic inheritance to personality dilemma.  When my mother died, I was 17 years old.  My brain had not finished maturing.  It took years for me to integrate the confusion and insecurity that her sudden death created.

Even though previous analysis has surfaced some of this before, this particular slant, a genetic proclivity, is new to me.  It helps.

Surgery, Money and the Electric Fence

Fall              Waxing Blood Moon

Saw Ruth Hayden again, today.  She has guided us since a stressful period in our finances over 7 years ago.  As Kate’s retirement comes closer and closer, Ruth helps us with fine-tuning our retirement budget and preparing our holdings to manage the inevitable ups and downs of the market.  Her help is practical and wise.  Everyone should have a Ruth in their life.

Kate has scheduled her back surgery.  It will take place on October 19th.  She plans for 8 weeks of recovery, 4 of pretty low key activity.  That means extra care and nurturing.  I look forward to it.

The electric fence has become part of our property.  I check the l.e.d. two to three times a day and walk the property after heavy winds.  Thanks to the fence, Vega and Rigel now run and romp, tumbling over and over in the way puppies will.  The electric fence teaches a strong life lesson about freedom within  constraint.  Once our limits are clear, we are free to act as we are.  This seems like an oxymoron, but in fact life has limits at every turn.  Like Rigel you may be inclined to climb the fence and run free.  Like Rigel you may find that exhilarating.

Consider this, however.  She has a secure place in which to play with her sister, get fed and hang out on the couch in the evenings.  She risked losing that when she climbed the fence.

Not a conclusive argument and I don’t mean it to be, but it’s worth thinking about.

Live Your Own Life

Fall                                      Waxing Blood Moon

“There is only one success – to be able to spend your life in your own way, and not to give others absurd maddening claims upon it.” – Christopher Morley

It’s not the only success, but it’s sure right up there with love and family.  Self-direction has always been at or near the top of my list and I’ve been lucky enough to find significant folks, Kate especially, who’ve honored the way I choose to live my life.

Long ago, before college, I decided I would never do anything that violated my own values.  Never was a young man’s word, but the spirit of that vow has guided me well enough for over 45 years.  Have I violated my own values?  Of course, I have.  Life happens.  The essence of that commitment though is what Morley says, the ability to spend life in my own way.  That means accepting the consequences, bad and good.

Sad news tonight.  My aunt Barbara, my mother’s sister, had one child, Melissa.  Barbara suffered from bipolar disorder and spent most of her life in state hospitals.  She had a run of stable years during which she gave birth to Melissa.  That was 40 years ago.  Melissa died a a couple of days ago.  She had re-entered family life only recently, we didn’t know where she was, so I did not know her well, but she was a first cousin and the first of us to die.  There were 12 of us, now there are 11.

She leaves behind a son, John, and husband, Paul.  Her mother’s life was difficult from the very beginning and my sense from the brief contact I had with her is that Melissa’s life was not easy either.