Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.

Category Archives: relationships


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Cramming a lifetime of memories into one long weekend

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Spending the July 4th holiday weekend with family in the south was a treat.  Part of the weekend was spent at my brother’s home on a big lake, part of the weekend was spent at my parent’s home on another large lake.  Both places played host to all four of us; siblings together again for a few days, goofing off like we did when we were kids.  Of course not having Mom and Dad there to share it all with us lent a low grade melancholic feeling that persisted beneath the laughs, good food, great boat trips and crazy conversations.

Along the way were a few things that stood out:

  • Watching 4th of July fireworks from a boat, just like we used to do as kids.  There were at least a thousand boats anchored at one end of the big lake, private fireworks going off along the shore, the official fireworks at the dam competing with the almost full moon, and Dad’s big dipper hanging high in the sky.
  • Photographing scores of patriotically decked out wave runners as they sped by our boat in a watery version of the traditional  holiday parade.
  • Listening to a celebratory concert at “two tree island” while floating next to the boat, my toes turned up to the evening sky in a salute to Mom’s swimming style.
  • Eating a sweet ripe peach, the juice running down my chin, then eating another just because I could.
  • Running my fingers over small wooden figurines on Dad’s bedroom dresser that years ago had resided on our kitchen windowsill, bringing back memories of teenage years in another place and time.
  • Stopping for a moment during a boat ride in the warm summer air  beside the mountain where we had spread their ashes to pay our respects.
  • Watching a storm come in across the lake, listening to the wind beat the roof and windows, the rain going sideways across the yard, being glad we were there so the house wasn’t facing the storm alone.
  • Playing Mom’s piano.  It took both my sister and me to haltingly make it through some of the music left behind.  Our four hands couldn’t play what her two hands had played so beautifully such a short time ago.
  • Looking around the cabin as we left, saying a silent goodbye to them.  Telling them I loved them.  Hurrying away before the pain overwhelmed.  Seeing a marquee sign out front of the first little gas station a couple of miles away that said simply “Love You.”  Knew it was a message that they loved us back.

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Observation

Working in a library gives me the opportunity to watch people interact, and I’m beginning to recognize different parenting styles.  There are parents who arrive at the library and totally disassociate with their children, as if they are relieved to be free of the responsibility.  There are others that hover anxiously while  aggressively choosing books and movies and offering them to their children for approval.  Still others hang out nearby  letting the children choose their own items, but effectively ignoring any attempts at discussion.  And then there are the parents that actually interact with their children as if they are intelligent beings; listening while their children talk, provide coherent, relevant responses to their children’s comments and questions.  Those are the ones I like to watch the most.

I’ve seen negligent parenting, hostile parenting, coaxing parenting, condescending parenting, and supportive, image building parenting.  I’m sure some of the differences between parents has something to do with differences in children, but I have to ask; which comes first, the pouting, recalcitrant tween or the domineering, manipulative parent?

So much of the behavior I see in children, from the tiny youngsters refusing to stay near their mom as they explore  to teenagers oblivious to any requests from their parents reminds me of Katie’s behavior.  And worse, the responses from the parents often remind me of ..well…me when I’m trying to get her to do something she doesn’t want to do.  The cajoling, the bribing, the short loud demands…I’ve done almost everything I see parents do to get my dog to do what I want which is so often wildly different than what she wants to do.  Sometimes, as I commiserate with the parents at the checkout desk I almost slip and tell them that I’ve got the same issues with my dog.  But I stop myself.  I’m pretty sure no parent wants to hear how their child reminds me of my dog.  But still…

I’m just glad Katie has her own edgy and stubborn personality. Even when I make parenting errors she bounces back and reminds me that she still loves me.  I wish all parents could be so lucky with their own kids.

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Diversion

I have many more thoughts about our  forced retirement, but I thought you’d get a smile out of a short story from my library world instead.

A patron dropped off a bunch of books to be checked back into the library this evening.  I didn’t actually see the patron, just heard the thunk of  books landing inside the drop box.  Eventually I had a moment so I dug them out of the box and began scanning.   Here’s a list of titles:

125 Ways to Meet the Love of  Your Life

Dating Makes You Want to Die; but you have to do it anyway

You Didn’t Hear It From Us – Two Bartenders serve women the truth about men

Never Kiss a Frog – A girl’s guide to creatures from the dating swamp

How to Date Men

I started to giggle.  Softly of course, it is after all, a library.   My immediate thought was that if she wants to date more men she probably needs to get out of the library.  On the other hand, some of the nicest guys I’ve ever met go to a library regularly…so maybe she’s onto something!


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Is it the worst of times? Or the best of times?

Today General Motors filed for bankruptcy. We’ve known this was inevitable for months, but still  held out delusional hope.  Living with the uncertainty has been rough, trying to figure out all the possibilities, what each might mean to us, which permutation  would be better or worse for us.

So now we know for sure that husband’s assembly plant will become idle in September. At least it isn’t being closed outright, but there’s no guarantee that a car will ever again be assembled there. So in reality we’re still in limbo. Should he retire now? Or take unemployment and see what happens next?  Will the job he does now continue through September?  Or will he be forced to retire in July?  When they idle the plant will there be maintenance work for him to do?  Or is it best to take the buyout and walk now; leave all that stress behind?

We had planned on having him retire in a couple of years, so this is really just a bit early. So maybe this is the best of times. It’s a major change in our lives and will warrant more discussion, more thought, and a good bit of adjustment for each of us.  I’m not working full time and the decision would be easier if I were still working at my previous career.  I’m trying not to feel guilty that I left a lucritive career to move into something that pays so little.  And that I’m still part-time to boot.  Who knew back in 2006 when I made that decision where we’d be today.  I’m sure I could go back to that life, but I’m not ready to give up my dream yet.

So.  Is this the worst of times?  Or the best?

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Going to DC

I’m in the midst of preparations to attend a Sorrow to Strength conference in Washington DC. The conference, the first weekend in May, is put on by The Truck Safety Coalition (see http://www.trucksafety.org/) and is attended by survivors and families of truck crash victims. We spend a few days together talking about truck safety issues, lobbying on Capital Hill and remembering the people we’ve lost. It’s an oddly fun and sad experience all at the same time, and one that my siblings and I look forward to in a weird sort of way. It’s comforting to be with people that know how we’re feeling and have been through the same wide range of emotions, yet it’s hard to look around a room filled with people all hurting from the same experience. Especially when so many of our losses could have been avoided.

What really gets me the most is  listening to the stories on the first evening.  We all stand up and tell the short version of what happened to our family, the horrific events that led us to this conference room in a DC hotel.  You hear the stories, one after another, and so many of them are exactly the same; someone was struck from behind by a tractor trailer driven by a tired, inattentive, or sometimes drugged driver.  Usually a driver who had been on the road more hours than was legal, trying to make a buck, trying to support a family, trying to get by.  And now here we are, just a fraction of the 5,000 families affected like this every year,  in a room trying not to cry as we each describe “our” crash.  Regardless of the details most stories end the same.  Someone is gone.  Sometimes someone survives, but at such a cost.  Always the pain is there.   That’s what gets me mad.  And sad.  And what makes me go to Washington, to talk to Senators and Representatives, to their staff people, to the press.  To anyone that will listen.  To you.  Because so much of what the trucking industry appears to view as “collateral damage” doesn’t have to happen.

I know that I’m just one person.  But in that room this year on the first weekend in May will be too  many people, too many families, too many broken hearts.  For one weekend we stand united; we will have a presence and maybe someone will see us.  Maybe someone will listen.  Maybe, just maybe, we can begin again to make a difference.  We’ve lost family members, but we haven’t lost hope that change is possible.  Change can start with one person.  Dad believed that and so do I.

This trip is for you Dad.  Miss you.

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Happy to see you!

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Two things I can always count on  are the reactions of my dog and my family when they see me coming.  They’re always happy to see me whether I’ve been gone for weeks or just a few minutes.  That kind of unconditional love is hard to find in this world and I know I’m lucky.  I’m lucky that I have one of the sweetest most loving dogs, and the best family too; they’re all happy when we’re together.

It’s easy to take for granted the excited gyrations of your dog each time you come home from work, or the smile from your spouse when you walk into the room.  Sometimes it takes a loss to recognize what you had.  But far better, isn’t it, to recognize it right now?  In the moment?  To accept that hug, that smile, that quiet conversation or that tail wriggle and revel in the joy of having it, right now, right here?

Katie knows how to do that.  She doesn’t worry about the future (except if and when her supper will arrive) or agonize over the past.  She just loves you to death right now.   And as much as my siblings, husband and I have been through I think we’re beginning to enjoy the right now when we’re together.  Even when the real  stuff of our lives threatens to encroach.  When some of us are together we can, for the moment, right now, enjoy doing silly things.  Like coloring Easter eggs, or decorating Christmas cookies. Doing a little trick skiing or cooking some lavish squash soup.   We’ll climb a mountain, take a boat ride or maybe do all those things in a single weekend.  We fit in some of the fun little things we did as kids and forget we’re grownup with grownup problems.  Just hang out.  It’s not total avoidance, we know our problems will still be there when we go home.  And that’s all right.  Right now, we’re just HAPPY TO SEE YOU!

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Saturday at the library

It’s Saturday and the bad news was that I was stuck inside all day. The good news was that I was stuck inside all day at a library! Today seemed to be family day. Not every Saturday feels like that; a day filled with families that led me to my own memories of family and the libraries of my youth.

Lots of parents with their kids, and seemingly a lot of them were getting books to work on papers, or to read aloud. One set of sisters had two huge stacks of books. Their dad asked me, “Can they check out that many books?” The wonderful answer is “YES!” They were going on a road trip for spring break and wanted to make sure they had enough stuff to read. How great is that!  Sounded like me at their age.

Another mother had four or five books about sharks. I knew we had just received a brand new book with wonderful pictures of sharks, and even though the new book was over the reading level of the 8 year old that had to do the paper, she was thrilled to take it home.  I know her son will have a great time looking at the photos.  And there might be a bit of new information in there that he can tuck into that paper.  I don’t remember having to do papers when I was 8.  But that was so long ago I may have forgotten!

Another family came in, two kids, two parents, and sat down at our computers. Mom and Dad did email work while the kids played games. When they left they checked out a few family movies and some books to read aloud as well. Their experience just shows how multi-purpose today’s public libraries are.  In my day we took home books to read to each other, but there weren’t any movies to check out.  I am beginning to realize that it probably doesn’t matter if people check out movies, as long as they use our things to spend time together.  So this family will be watching movies together, where my family read together…it’s the together that matters.

An  older man was browsing in the DVD’s.  From behind he looked a lot like my Uncle R. who has been gone for over 15 years.  Even when he turned around he reminded me of my Uncle, one of the favorite people in my life when I was growing up.  Uncle R. was a big kidder, always had a joke, a laugh, a twinkle in his eye.  I smiled at my patron, the one who brought back all those memories, but he didn’t have a twinkle in his eye, in fact he seemed rather unhappy and abrupt.  Too bad.  But I still appreciated the moments remembering summer visits on the farm.  I wished my patron a good weekend, and he perked up a bit.  Maybe he just doesn’t have any adoring nieces at home!  That would certainly account for the grumpiness!

So it was a good day; and I brought some books home for me as well!  An added benefit of the work I do.

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What goes through your mind

Aunt V. and I went to visit Aunt G. who is newly ensconced in her hospice room. The hospice is a very nice place, clean, quiet, large colorful rooms. But it’s still a place to come to die.    Aunt G. appeared tiny under the soft blue blanket made by her granddaughter, but she smiled when she saw us, and participated in our conversations. Still, when I was back at home in my own bed, I had to wonder what was really going through her mind.

What does she think about, after all her guests go home, after her family has left, or is sleeping on the other bed. When it gets quiet outside, does it get quiet inside her mind? When she has time to think, now, while she’s still lucid, does she think back over her life, or think ahead to the future? She says she has no regrets, and I’m glad. But I still wonder.

Both my parents died unexpectedly away from home. They each left home fully expecting to return to it. But Aunt G. left her home knowing she will never return. What is that like? Do you clean before you leave if you can? Do you gaze around and mentally say goodbye to favorite things? Or are you so caught up in the events that you leave with no goodbyes? When you’re finally alone and things are momentarily quiet, do you think back to that leave-taking?

Being away from home in a hospice setting was her choice, but it feels odd to me. To be taken away from everything you know, taken somewhere to die feels alien. Yet is it? Weren’t there Indian civilizations where the elderly went away to die? Does going away take away the clutter of everyday life, give a person time and space to focus on how they want to spend their last days?

So I lay awake last night and wondered. What is she thinking. What is she feeling? What is it like? I have no conclusions, only more questions. The hospice facility is a wonderful place, but in the end Aunt G. is really on her own. No matter how many of us are around her.

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What does 80 look like?

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Today would have been Dad’s 80th birthday. I can’t quite imagine what he might have been like if he had lived to what feels like a milestone age. What does 80 look like?  I watch people who might be that age, wondering if he would have had trouble getting in and out of cars, would have walked slower, been less active, maybe climbed fewer flights of stairs.  I don’t think so.

braun-and-badger-0131We feel like we were robbed of something important when Dad was killed by that tired trucker; the chance to see him “grow up.”   We’re left to imagine what he might have turned out to be.  We know for sure he wasn’t done evolving, he was always learning new things, reading, going to classes, researching on the internet.  We all wish we had been able to watch him grow, and we wish that when he finally did need us, that we could have been there to lend a hand.  Like he always lent his hands to people that needed him.  It would have only been fair to  pay him back for all the years he supported us.

Turns out the world isn’t always fair.

Happy Birthday Daddy.  Hope you’re fixing things, as only you could do, up there in heaven.  Mostly likely you’re working on a handrail  right now, or unsticking a door, making things safer for someone else.  We’ll see you when we get there.

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