Friday, February 18, 2011

Afternoon with Shep

Spent the afternoon with my sweet four year old grandson. He cracks me up. He sits next to me while I am writing on the laptop and just chatters away. He talked about how he loved his Mom. I told him when his Dad was his age, he always said he wanted to marry me when he grew up. Shep looked at me with amazement and said “Now that’s just weird.”

Guess he doesn’t feel quite the same. And time clearly has not been kind to me.

The rest of the afternoon:

He drank juice.

He played with a flashlight. (“Nana, I want to go someplace dark.” For a horrible minute I thought he was having a breakdown.)

He had a Rice Krispie treat.

He played kiddie computer games.

He had a lollipop.

He played with Playdough.

He had ice cream.

He watched TV and played with Legos.

By the time his dad came to pick him up, he was tired. “Come on, bud, pick up the Legos.” my son said. I was putting Shep’s sneakers on and he whispered to me, “I don’t want to pick up the Legos.” So I whispered back to tell his Dad I was playing with the Legos, so I would pick them up. Sometimes you need your Nana to cover for you.

With a totally straight face he said to his father, “I wasn’t playing with the Legos, it was Nana Cooper. But she needs help picking them up because it is hard for her to walk. So you have to do it.”

Is this kid brilliant, or what?

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Sunday, February 13, 2011

Happiness

It is a constant pursuit.

When my oldest son was young, he worked in our local grocery store. The town we lived in had a high population of seniors and most of them preferred to shop at this old-fashioned little corner store, as they didn’t have to drive and the level of service was high.

One day I was in there to get milk. It was the peak of the lunch rush and both registers were going a mile a minute. The lines, full of little old men and women, stretched to the back of the store. My son didn’t know I was there and I watched him deal with one elderly person after another, unfailingly polite and helpful. I was glowing with pride. Because each of these people was making some demand in a quivery little voice. Double bag my groceries. Oh, don’t squash my strawberries! Put this on my tab. I thought this soup was on sale. Is this bread fresh? And finally, do you have any happiness today?

Uh oh. Dementia.

I watched my son look under the counter and reply, “No, it looks like we’re all out.” “Wow”, I thought, “he really goes above and beyond!” “Hey Heather” he called to the other cashier, “Do you have any happiness over there?” Heather looked. “No, I’m all out.” “Try again tomorrow”, Ryan said to the little old lady. She thanked him and went on her shaky little way. “Holy cow!” I thought. “Mr. Brown has them so well trained that they will go to any length to humor these poor old people.”

When I got up to the counter I had tears in my eyes. “Ryan, I am so proud of you that you were so nice to that poor demented old lady looking for ‘happiness’, that you humored her so nicely, even looking for ‘happiness’ under the counter.”

He paused for a minute and then rolled his eyes. “Happiness is a magazine, Mom.”

Oh.

Well, he was still very polite.

Happiness Magazine

______________

I have had a dearth of happiness in my life in the past few years, stressed out as I have been by one disaster after another. Even though my life has crashed and is burning, I know that true happiness is a state of mind and a choice. So I have been working on being consciously happy, without being simple minded about it.

I got a copy of The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin. I have to say, the author makes some very good points about choosing happiness and deliberately living in a way that limits negativity. She has some very good ideas. But I can only read it in small increments because there is a persistent tone of ‘I am so wonderful and let me tell you how wonderful I am’ that gets on my nerves after about 15 minutes. Although I will fully acknowledge, that could just be me and I am Happiness Teflon. I also could just be jealous of the fact that she is young, successful, lives in a fabulous Manhattan apartment with a fabulous husband, fabulous children, with fabulous in-laws around the corner and, apparently, is fabulously happy.

One of the things I decided to do early in reading the book was to make a “Happiness Quilt” for myself. I got a pattern for a small lap quilt that just called for six quarter yards cut creatively. Yellow is my favorite color. So I went to fabric store and grabbed a combination of pre-cut yellow and blue quarters. Now, because I have a limited time that I can be on my feet, I didn’t have as much time to peruse the fabric selection as I would have wanted. So I ended up settling before I keeled over.

The quilt came out nice and it made me somewhat Happy, but not Happy enough.


Happiness Quilt I

I found what I wanted on line. Gorgeous, flower splashed cotton in all shades of yellows. I bought a few extra quarter yards to make the quilt a little bigger. And I picked a great cabbage rose fabric for the backing. For someone like me, who craves symmetry and order in my sewing, this cacophony was a leap. But I was sooo happy with the results after I pieced the top together. My sewing machine cannot handle quilting, it doesn’t have the capacity. So instead of hand tying it, I decided to hand quilt it and then wrap the binding fabric around and hand sew that as well.

It took me longer, but it was worth it. The quilt has a myriad of flaws, it is really really hard to squeeze the right amount of cuts from a reluctant quarter yard. But I love it for its imperfections too. It is big enough to cuddle under to read or nap or just contemplate the process of Happiness.


Happiness Quilt II
Quilt back
Close Up


I now have the Happiness Quilt I wanted. Next to acquire the Happiness itself.


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Thursday, February 3, 2011

Because...

Because it is simply lovely. And we all deserve something lovely on a cold, dark February night.



For my e-mail readers:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wlxVTpEyMEw


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Sunday, January 30, 2011

A New Princess in the World

Welcome to my gorgeous new granddaughter, Madailéin Elizabeth, born January 29, 2011. Congratulations to her mommy and daddy, who will be, indeed already are, spectacular parents.




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Thursday, January 20, 2011

In Honor of Jackie

January is the birth month of Jacqueline Du Pre, the dazzling English cellist who died of multiple sclerosis in 1987 at the age of 42. I am cheating by posting this on both of my blogs, but I like her to get as much exposure as possible.


Jackie was a genius and her playing is still revered today for its depth and creativity. This is all the more remarkable considering MS ended her ability to play when she was only 28 years old. She did, however, continue to teach and share her brilliance with many, despite the relentless progress of her disease.

This recording of Elgar is a treasure. Daniel Barenboim, who she married in 1967, is conducting. Especially for anyone who is used to how he looks now, he looks like a little boy in a borrowed, ill-fitting tux. As much as I admire his musical talent, I can never look at him without remembering he had two children with another woman while Jackie was still alive. Maybe I am being too judgmental, but honestly, what a dog.



http://youtu.be/UUgdbqt2ON0

A movie about Jackie and her sister was made in 1998. It generally is a silly, over-the-top melodrama. But there is one scene that I post every year, it is so true to my experience. For me, it captures exactly how it feels every time it hits home how much MS has stolen from my life. My career has been destroyed. My independence is gone. My relationships are all altered by this horrible disease. I cannot overstate the devastation of knowing each day brings me a little closer to total dependence. What I would give to have my old life back, to be able to run errands, get up and go to work every day, go for a walk after dinner! Even to be able to make dinner or clean the house or do laundry, all things that I took for granted and I am unable to do any longer.



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TpN41toUv-w

I certainly never, ever thought I would develop something like MS. I vividly remember studying it in nursing school and thinking, “Phew, thank goodness I’ll never get MS!” Silly me. I already had it. And even after I was diagnosed, I thought, “Oh, it won’t affect me too much. I will have MS Light. Because I am not the type to get sick. That is for others.”

Who knew I would be one of the others?

Granted, perception is all. If I perceive I am limited, I am limited by my own definition. I do still enjoy many things, especially the company and support of my wonderful friends. But the reality of loss is still a painful fact.

So happy birthday, Jackie. Thank you for the gift of your music and the example of the life you led.


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Friday, January 14, 2011

Wise Words: On Healing, Not Wounding

I was profoundly touched by the leadership of our President, who said, among other things, on Wednesday:

…sudden loss causes us to look backward – but it also forces us to look forward; to reflect on the present and the future, on the manner in which we live our lives and nurture our relationships with those who are still with us.

We may ask ourselves if we’ve shown enough kindness and generosity and compassion to the people in our lives. Perhaps we question whether we are doing right by our children, or our community, and whether our priorities are in order.

We recognize our own mortality, and are reminded that in the fleeting time we have on this earth, what matters is not wealth, or status, or power, or fame – but rather, how well we have loved, and what small part we have played in bettering the lives of others.


I know I am guilty of not having done enough, of letting days and years drift by with good intentions but, sometimes, scant action. I have been thoughtless. I have not always been the parent my children deserved. Circumstances have conspired to leave me now in a position of being able to do very little physically. But I can still consider “…the manner in which…” I live my life.

I will continue to support practical and reasonable gun control legislation, for one thing. No sportsman needs a semi-automatic hand gun. And there must be better controls in place to prevent the mentally ill from having such easy access to firearms. Over 30,000 people are killed by guns in the United States every year, but for some reason there is little outrage.

Ten years ago I took part in the Million Mom March in Washington, D.C. It was an awe-inspiring and sobering day, yet the movement has simmered down to a whisper, although James and Sarah Brady have remained tireless in their mission (http://www.bradycampaign.org).

According to the CDC, in 2007, (http://webappa.cdc.gov/cgi-bin/broker.exe) 65 children under 14 died in firearm accidents. Two hundred and forty nine were murdered by guns. And 53 children between 10 and 14 committed suicide with a gun. The next age range is a ten year one, 15 to 24, with 53 accidental deaths, 4669 murders and 1900 suicides by firearms. How is this accepted in our society?

As President Obama reminded us, our time on earth is fleeting. It shouldn’t be shortened by senseless, preventable violence.

_____________________________

The Peaceful Stone House is a lovely, gentle blog written by Dana from Canada. It is always worth a visit for a brief respite from the craziness of the world. Dana is sponsoring a wonderful giveaway connected to her business, The Great 1870 Flannel Nightie Co. (http://www.flannelnightie.com). Check out her blog for details on winning a cozy treasure.

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Friday, December 31, 2010

Blizzard, Part Two!

Well son of a gun.

It turns out it WAS news after all. It was news because our state and municipalities totally dropped the ball on the snow removal, resulting in people at the Shore still trapped in their homes, more than four days after the storm ended.

The blizzard was effectively over by Monday morning. By Wednesday night, our street had still not seen a plow. There was a six foot drift covering my van in the driveway and a solid three foot bank of snow from one end of the street to the other.

As the days slid into Wednesday with no escape in sight, every few hours my daughter, who is eight and a half months pregnant, would clutch her chest and cry “We’re going to run out of food!! I know it!!”. Then we would both laugh. But the laughter was getting pretty thin after 60 hours, down to about a half a cup of milk, no butter and one frozen chicken. I had to miss my MS treatment because I couldn’t get to the oncologist’s office. I started making feeble jokes about being Donner, party of two. But it actually was getting worrisome.

Her Significant Other was on snow duty at the firehouse in Ocean Grove, a tiny little community here at the Shore. He was completely trapped there for over 72 hours. Nothing with wheels could move at all in the snow and the firemen spent most of their time digging out other emergency vehicles that were stuck. One rescue call had to be done with the patient being pulled through the snow in a sled-like basket. As of Thursday, most of that town had not been touched by a plow.

Local politicians were trying to deflect blame (there was too much snow to remove) or pass the buck (the state didn’t do its job properly), but the bottom line is the entire situation was an unacceptable disaster.

Here is one article in the local paper: http://www.app.com/article/20101230/NEWS/101230061/Neptune-digs-through-the-night


So I filled the time doing what I had done on Sunday:

I read.



I baked cinnamon bread.







I finished a baby quilt top I am making for a friend, but couldn't complete the whole thing because I am all out of batting.


I made… a patchwork thingie. I had in mind a patchwork prayer shawl, as a change from the knitted ones I make. While I was testing it against my shoulders for size, The Critic appeared in the doorway and said “Why are you wearing a table runner?”. So presto, it was a table runner.



We are finally shoveled and plowed out. I may venture to, where else but the fabric store? But the roads and streets are still dicey, so I will play it by ear. One broken shoulder is more than enough, thank you very much. If I don’t get more fabric, I am sure I will find something to do over the holiday weekend.

I wish all of you a wonderfully peaceful, joy filled and healthy New Year!!



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