Age and sex are an embarrassing combination. When are people too old to have sex? College kids think their own 40-something parents are too old! I think that people in their 80's are too old!
Who is right? Should the "sex drive" be put into "park" at some point in people's lives? Or is it always to be there -- tempting one to his/her youth when, quite frankly, they can never get there again.
Solving this conundrum is not so easy as it might appear.
Tuesday, December 9, 2014
Monday, December 8, 2014
She as Remembrance
Memories can't do justice to anyone who has lived -- least of all to someone as vibrant and alive as She was. Intelligence can't be recalled; humor can't be relived; and most of all the complexity of emotion and vitality cannot be recreated. She was a "one-of-a-kind" and always will be to me -- she was precious but not just to be kept. But rather to be "with" in whatever way(s) possible.
She was unique and special; She was eccentric and normal; She was a gem of great price. That is why loss of her to humanity is so deep and stirring. That loss cannot be overcome or retracted with just memories.
She was unique and special; She was eccentric and normal; She was a gem of great price. That is why loss of her to humanity is so deep and stirring. That loss cannot be overcome or retracted with just memories.
Thursday, December 4, 2014
Day of the Dead
Every day is someone's "day of the dead." That day harbors memories, and terrors, and joys beyond joys...
This is my "day of the dead." It is the anniversary of the day Sheila Nassif Mrochinski died in 2006.
She had been at Hospice Savannah for over 60 days until that day. She had gotten better; she had come to recognize again a pain-free life. She had talked, and mused, and thought about her life -- with me, with her Mom Millie, with her Aunt Evelyn, her slightly crazy cousin Carol, and dozens of visitors from family, friends, and others. We had learned lots about each other -- and we had talked about the absent people we loved: E.T., my parents--Ted and Della, Linda my Sister, and many others.
She had been in the "active process" of dying for several days now; she had actually warned me when that process started so that we had called her Mom to return from Greensboro to be in Savannah for the final days. She had fulfilled her promise to her Mom and to herself: to be honest, and truthful, and giving -- all the way until the end. She had stood up to her Mom -- with loving kindness, and asked for these final days to be her days to spend as she wished. And she did that. There are a hundred stories here from this time that I will no doubt tell and retell often in my own life.
The actual moment of my understanding about what was happening on December 4, 2006 was when I was awakened from a dead sleep by the sound of my own name -- MEL was spoken loudly, clearly and quite firmly in Room #4 and I found myself sitting bolt upright in my chair/bed wondering who the hell was speaking. I recognized the voice.... but Sheila had not spoke aloud for nearly a day now and I was not sure she still could speak.
As I rushed/stumbled to her bed I called Sheila's Mom at the hotel -- and let her know that it was "time" to come see Sheila now. In the three hours until they dressed and arrived (Millie, and Carol)-- I prayed, and laughed, and I fed She ice chips for her dry throat, (and she playfully bit my finger and seemed to giggle at doing so), and her body slowly relaxed from the grotesque contorted position it had been in when I was wakened. And we kissed (though she could not fully kiss -- the movement was so very slight yet still perceptible).
And I told her again that I wished it had been me with cancer -- that she did not deserve to die! (Do any of us "deserve to die?") And I told her what I knew -- that I loved her; and "if there is a heaven-- she will be there." I believed that completely; because I always felt she was deserving...I can't judge anyone else, but I knew Sheila deserved a place in heaven.
Everyone arrived and prayed (Carol in her "over the top; I am a Prophetess kind of way) and we each talked to Sheila -- and we waited. Time passed. We all chatted and I became aware that they talked of her already -- in the past tense. That made my mind catch for a moment and sigh. I could feel Sheila breathing -- I was sitting so close to her on her bed -- and leaning over her. And then I heard her take a large breath --- and that breath never seemed to come out! Her lungs had somehow stopped and all involuntary muscle reactions ceased. Sheila had gone to God -- and I was so very happy for her I nearly laughed. But I know I smiled -- happy that her suffering was over; happy that she had no more pain to endure. I cannot fathom what my Mother-in-Law felt about me at that moment --- since she already blamed me for Hospice, and this diagnosis, and this death. But I truly did not care about what others thought of me. Sheila knew the TRUTH. RIP to all of us -- living or dead, on this "day of the dead."
This is my "day of the dead." It is the anniversary of the day Sheila Nassif Mrochinski died in 2006.
She had been at Hospice Savannah for over 60 days until that day. She had gotten better; she had come to recognize again a pain-free life. She had talked, and mused, and thought about her life -- with me, with her Mom Millie, with her Aunt Evelyn, her slightly crazy cousin Carol, and dozens of visitors from family, friends, and others. We had learned lots about each other -- and we had talked about the absent people we loved: E.T., my parents--Ted and Della, Linda my Sister, and many others.
She had been in the "active process" of dying for several days now; she had actually warned me when that process started so that we had called her Mom to return from Greensboro to be in Savannah for the final days. She had fulfilled her promise to her Mom and to herself: to be honest, and truthful, and giving -- all the way until the end. She had stood up to her Mom -- with loving kindness, and asked for these final days to be her days to spend as she wished. And she did that. There are a hundred stories here from this time that I will no doubt tell and retell often in my own life.
The actual moment of my understanding about what was happening on December 4, 2006 was when I was awakened from a dead sleep by the sound of my own name -- MEL was spoken loudly, clearly and quite firmly in Room #4 and I found myself sitting bolt upright in my chair/bed wondering who the hell was speaking. I recognized the voice.... but Sheila had not spoke aloud for nearly a day now and I was not sure she still could speak.
As I rushed/stumbled to her bed I called Sheila's Mom at the hotel -- and let her know that it was "time" to come see Sheila now. In the three hours until they dressed and arrived (Millie, and Carol)-- I prayed, and laughed, and I fed She ice chips for her dry throat, (and she playfully bit my finger and seemed to giggle at doing so), and her body slowly relaxed from the grotesque contorted position it had been in when I was wakened. And we kissed (though she could not fully kiss -- the movement was so very slight yet still perceptible).
And I told her again that I wished it had been me with cancer -- that she did not deserve to die! (Do any of us "deserve to die?") And I told her what I knew -- that I loved her; and "if there is a heaven-- she will be there." I believed that completely; because I always felt she was deserving...I can't judge anyone else, but I knew Sheila deserved a place in heaven.
Everyone arrived and prayed (Carol in her "over the top; I am a Prophetess kind of way) and we each talked to Sheila -- and we waited. Time passed. We all chatted and I became aware that they talked of her already -- in the past tense. That made my mind catch for a moment and sigh. I could feel Sheila breathing -- I was sitting so close to her on her bed -- and leaning over her. And then I heard her take a large breath --- and that breath never seemed to come out! Her lungs had somehow stopped and all involuntary muscle reactions ceased. Sheila had gone to God -- and I was so very happy for her I nearly laughed. But I know I smiled -- happy that her suffering was over; happy that she had no more pain to endure. I cannot fathom what my Mother-in-Law felt about me at that moment --- since she already blamed me for Hospice, and this diagnosis, and this death. But I truly did not care about what others thought of me. Sheila knew the TRUTH. RIP to all of us -- living or dead, on this "day of the dead."
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
Awash
In work; in grief; in sadness; in confusion; in memories; in imagery too vivid to forget; in pain; in the past; in the present; in others; in self-pity; in anger; in awful remembering; in time; in hopelessness; in tomorrow without end; in self; in nothingness; in a tear trickling down my cheek!
I am.
I am.
Getting IT Together
Last week was not a good week --- procrastination and sloth had their ways with me. I finished the minimum amount of work to survive -- but felt guilty throughout in "not" getting enough of the really important things in my life "done."
I hope this level of PROCRASTINATION is not a permanent condition!
I hope this level of PROCRASTINATION is not a permanent condition!
Tuesday, November 25, 2014
Giving Thanks
Americans do a lot of things "pro forma!" Just because it seems that we should, we offer "thanks" for what we have received. But do we really ever just stop and count those many blessings; make a list; total up the receipts, etc? Nope.
"Pro forma" mean just what it implies; according to form, as per usual, like always. It is what we do because we are not circumspect enough to really look at all we have.
I thank you -- fate, god, God, self, whomever -- for all the things and good fortune I have received -- however I have received them; in spite of my seeming unworthiness and clumsy attempts at rectitude. Thanks again.
"Pro forma" mean just what it implies; according to form, as per usual, like always. It is what we do because we are not circumspect enough to really look at all we have.
I thank you -- fate, god, God, self, whomever -- for all the things and good fortune I have received -- however I have received them; in spite of my seeming unworthiness and clumsy attempts at rectitude. Thanks again.
Thursday, November 20, 2014
A Tribute to SHE
What SHE put up with! I was a Midwestern mind-set mail with built-in prejudices against the South --- and its women. I thought the educational systems in the South were backward (they are); the thinking was so thirty-years-ago (it is); and that all its people were slightly "nuts" for staying there.
I learned something about the grace and beauty of Southern charm; the strength of women who can only be compared to "pioneer types"; and the warmth of the South and its many passions. I was so arrogant and conceited about the superiority of the North (and yes, the Midwest). And I was mostly venal and short-sighted.
I needed to grasp the "heart" -- the "soul" of the South; which lies deeper than all the stereotypes. And that "soul" loves the land, and people, and slow-time in everything. Those are its characteristics.
How did Sheila Nassif Mrochinski put up with me all those years -- I cannot even imagine it. Even though I lived it.
I learned something about the grace and beauty of Southern charm; the strength of women who can only be compared to "pioneer types"; and the warmth of the South and its many passions. I was so arrogant and conceited about the superiority of the North (and yes, the Midwest). And I was mostly venal and short-sighted.
I needed to grasp the "heart" -- the "soul" of the South; which lies deeper than all the stereotypes. And that "soul" loves the land, and people, and slow-time in everything. Those are its characteristics.
How did Sheila Nassif Mrochinski put up with me all those years -- I cannot even imagine it. Even though I lived it.
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