Life is easy and cheap to make. But the things we add to it, such as pride, self-respect and human dignity, are worthy of preservation, too, and these can be lost in a fetish for life at any cost.
I believe that if the burden gets too great, those who wish to should be allowed to be shown the door.
In my case, in the fullness of time, I hope it will be the one to the garden under an English sky. Or, if wet, the library.
It is not easy to think of the end of someone’s life. I certainly know that with everything that I have been through this year, that I would rather not think of it; and yet, there is power in thought. There is power in decision, and strength in not fighting.
My sister and I were fortunate to be present when our mother passed earlier this year. Because she had long suffered from COPD, the issue of what happened tomorrow often included a matter-of-fact discussion of what happened at the end. We both knew, deeply and with complete certainty, what mom wanted when the time came. There was no doubt there.
Yet the decision to let go was not easy, or simple. It was nothing less than a battle of selfish instinct versus selfless desires: my desire to have my mother in my life; her desire not to suffer any longer and not to become a burden on her children. We were fortunate to be surrounded by people who understood what we were going through. They knew how difficult the decision was, but they also knew what our mom wanted, as she was an adopted mother to them as well. Their certainty reinforced ours and gave us strength to make a decision that we did not want to make.
When mom finally took her oxygen off for the third time, and then decided to keep it off, we knew the time had come. So many years of suffering—of fighting. Nearly a decade with a disease the doctors insisted would take her within a year or two. More strength than either of us could imagine wielding, especially in the face of insurmountable opposition. The time had come to stop fighting.
Fortunately, we were able to reunite my mom with people who, for reasons small and large, had drifted apart. Clara, her friend and margarita buddy, for so many years. Caroline, the woman who had raised me—taught me to like liver and onions—and whose spirituality made some discussions difficult, so that she had hid things from her friend for years. In the end, when the last moments tick away, concerns about the future become meaningless and my mom was able to reveal things she had kept to herself. In those last moments, there was nothing but love and acceptance, unfiltered by society’s antiquated moors.
When the house finally stood still—the oxygen machine off for the first time in many, many years—and my mom lay peaceful for once, I realized that no matter how much it hurt, we had done what children are often called to do. To say goodbye, and to realize that we all live forever in the hearts of others. Our legacy is not money or property; our legacy are the memories we leave embedded in other’s lives. Our mom had battled harder than anyone had any right to expect, and lived to see her daughter finish graduate school and married; her son happily settled. The weights on her heart were lifted in those last days and she was finally at peace.
When the day finally comes for me that I might face the dimming days, I can only hope that I have inherited a measure of my mom’s strength to fight and to finally know when to fight no longer. I can only hope that those around me can find the strength to let it happen and find the peace in knowing that I find in my mom’s own graceful exit.
To my sister Kim and my brother-in-law Chad; to Cary; to my friends Sharlene and Brettany; to Clara and Caroline, and the truly amazing people at Hospice Austin, I can never say thank you enough. And to my mom, who never leaves my thoughts for more than a moment, thank you.
For the 3 people who actually read what I write, I just wanted to let you know that I’ve been taking an obvious hiatus from writing here. Between the loss of my mom, the election and work being quite bizarre right now, I’ve simply been unsure what to write about. It’s entirely possible that I won’t restart, but more likely that I will but refocus on some specific areas.
Via James comes an article saying that Gore Verbinski is directing an adaption of the board game Clue. This would be lame enough—what with all the lame adaptions that seem to happen—were it not for the curious case that this has already been done. And it was done brilliantly. In 1985.
The original version had an amazing cast, and while it was a financial failure, has gone on to be a massive cult hit. Take a look at some of the members:
Tim Curry as the butler
Eileen Brennan as Mrs. Peacock
Madeline Kahn as Mrs. White
Martin Mull as Colonel Mustard
Michael McKeen as Mr. Green
Leslie Ann Warren as Miss Scarlet
Christopher Lloyd as Professor Plum
Where in the world, in this day and age, are you going to find a cast like that to work with? The movie itself was simply a framework for some brilliant comedic performers to work with. A projection screen for all their neurotic behavior and silliness.
Then again, maybe I’m biased; I’ve seen it hundreds of times.
The French have a, sometimes undeserving, reputation as variously aloof, curt, rude and narcissistic, however my partner’s boss gives not only foundation to any ill-will one might want to feel, but a whole new level of dimension of, well, inhuman behavior. For a party, I had baked chocolate-chip cookies and some amazing brownies. Now, not to toot my own horn—OK, just a little—but these are killer things. Yes, they’re sweet, but I make them in smaller sizes because of this. We’re not talking Cheesecake Factory excess, but a 1” square brownie of pure chocolate indulgence. His boss’ reaction, relayed through chat?
Connard came in, tossed the brownie/cookie to the side of his desk and, with a very big sigh, said: We French don’t indulge in constant fattening like you Americans so please don’t bring me more of your sweet food.
Really? You’re kidding me, right? Not even a “thank you, but I don’t eat sweets/like chocolate/etc”? Basically, it was “f-you, you fat American pig”, which is ironic since the partner isn’t the least bit overweight. I had previously written off Connard’s inconsiderate and self-obsessed linguistic misteps as simply an unfamiliarity with the English language, such as “well, I let you go to the doctor last week”, but this to me illuminates a gaping hole of persona where politeness, decency and one might even say simple humanity would normally be placed. Instead, it’s replaced by a gigantic serving of douche.
Several people have asked if everything is OK, as I’ve not posted anything here in weeks. The truth of the matter is that it is the perfect storm of things in my life.
First, it’s been holiday-season and there’s been more travel and things going on than is usual for me this time of year. That keeps me pre-occupied with other things. Second, there’s the post-election implosion of my political interest. It’s not that I don’t care, it’s just that I don’t care enough right this second to bother. In a few weeks, I suspect that will change.
Lastly, and most importantly, I fell in love. You know that feeling that you thought you lost when you were 17, but somehow manages to show back up 20 years later? Yeah, that. Quite honestly, while there’s plenty to talk about, my desire to maintain some abstract sense of privacy has kept me from discussing my private life. Needless to say, that limits what I talk about on here. Regardless, the future will be different, and I look forward to facing it accompanied by the best partner anyone could ever hope for.
You’re asked now to stand on a question of love. All you need do is stand and let the tiny ember of love lead its own fate. You don’t have to help it. You don’t have to applaud it. You don’t have to fight for it. Just don’t put it out. Just don’t extinguish it.
The church is serious about the sanctity of marriage. I get that. But aren’t more potentially “dangerous” marriages already being performed out there?
For example, I hear in church all the time about marriage being ordained of God. But I also hear about how the glory of God is intelligence.
Shouldn’t it be against the law for stupid people to get married? What’s more harmful to society – two well-dressed men getting married and settling down, or two idiots tying the knot and cranking out any number of additional idiots?
You should have to pass a harder test to get married than the one we currently have. Essentially, there are but two questions: “How old are you?” and “Is that your sister?” Hell, you could pass this test just by guessing.
Seriously. What the hell is wrong with people? I stay out of your church, you stay out of my bedroom.
Thank you for your interest in joining the Obama-Biden Administration. Within a few days, you will receive an email with a link to the more complete on-line application. Please be patient, as we are trying to respond promptly to the large number of people who are interested in working in the Administration.
While it would likely be a pay cut, for the first time I’m interested in public service.
The news of Madelyn Dunham’s passing hit me harder than any death of a stranger has before. Not only have I, like many others, invested many of my hopes and dreams in her grandson, but it surfaces the fears I have of facing a future without my own mother; the only parent I truly had. As I think of my own mother’s childhood in Appalachia and her own transformation into someone who could accept and love her son for who he was, rather than who she wished him to be, I catch a brief oblique glimpse of how Obama must have felt and all I can think is that he must have as much pride in his grandmother as I do in my mom.
I can not begin to imagine what Barack Obama and his family are going through right now, but I imagine it a maelstrom of anguish, anticipation and sorrow. Nobody can walk in the shoes of another man at such a time, and it is all we can do to stand back one extra step, breathe deep and bow our heads so that others might shed a tear in peace.
While I am not a religious, or even spiritual person, I can not help but think of the words of Martin Luther King at this time:
Well, I don’t know what will happen now. We’ve got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn’t matter with me now. Because I’ve been to the mountaintop. And I don’t mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people will get to the promised land. And I’m happy, tonight. I’m not worried about anything. I’m not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.
I can only hope that my mother is half as proud of me as Obama’s grandmother must have been of him.
This last weekend, I went with my sister and brother-in-law to the Maker Faire 2008, which was held here in Austin, TX. I think the following photo sums it up best (from Flickr):
I took a few photos (150-200 or so), and will see what I can get uploaded when I get home and have access to my card-reader. Woops!
Without delving into my personal finances too much, I think this little line from my account sums it up:
Personal Rate of Return from 01/01/2008 to 09/26/2008 is -13.5%
Read that again. Since the beginning of the year I’ve lost 13.5%, and most of my money is not in the US markets, but overseas. Joy! The only slight solace I might take is that my employer match wiped out that loss at least.
For years, I’ve used some IKEA cabinets for storing work books, documents, DVDs, manuals, etc. These were based on their high-end (by IKEA standards) EFFEKTIV line, and have served me well. Other than the fact that they stopped making the doors that I use (in red and blue matte finishes), I’ve been very happy. That is, until tonight.
In trying to move some things around to rearrange things, I started trying to roll the cabinets. Since they’re on casters I figured this wouldn’t be too hard. The shorter cabinet (3 “units” high) moved without trouble. The taller cabinet (4 “units”) didn’t want to budge. The caster lock wasn’t set, so I just thought it might be stuck on something. I pushed; nothing. I pushed again, and I heard a pop, and one of the wheels split and the picture you see is the basic result. Total collapse.
Well, that was fun. I did some research on getting a new base for the cabinet and discovered that 4 “units” is not supported and not recommended. So, I’ll change to the non-wheeled version. That simply means that I have to replace a couple unit bases to keep the “look” the same. Fortunately, this series has been relatively durable.
Guess it’s time to throw out some books. Do I really need that book on X.400 communications, or a full set of the rainbow series, the last of which is dated 15 years ago?
So, I finally escape one project only to receive a phone call from my boss asking if I might “pinch hit” on the project I was on before this one. It seems my replacement isn’t getting all the pieces done, and they’ve not had much luck finding someone to assist him.
Just 2 hours short of 7 days I am home. I told him I would think about it.
So, 3 weeks ago I thought I had come to some resolution at work so that I would no longer be traveling every week just to sit and do work that I could do remotely. I notified everyone concerned of what was going to happen, the time-line, and my willingness to continue working, albeit remotely, on the project. What do you think happens on the final day?
Yup … you knew it was going to happen … Eeyore is waiting for me, confronts me, tells me that I’m a “quitter” and “risking my job” and regardless of the fact that nothing remaining for me requires my hands-on attention, refuses to acknowledge the situation. He then tells me it’s his sole discretion when I leave the project, not my manager’s and attempts to usurps authority from legal and HR that are not his. He couldn’t be bothered to deal with it until the 11th hour, and even then does so from a position that is indefensible.
For years, I’ve used some IKEA cabinets for storing work books, documents, DVDs, manuals, etc. These were based on their high-end (by IKEA standards)