Sunday, October 19, 2014

Trips With Mom And Dad

This is a long post.  I won't be offended if you don't read all of it.

I had intended to write a post on September 10th, the one year anniversary of Mom's passing, but I just never found the time.  It's hard to believe it's been over a year now.  I'm doing much better since Mom gave me a kick in the butt (referred to in this post).  I still think about her every day, but I'm not so sad anymore.  Time is healing my heart (that, and the fact that I realize Mom is with me still).

I took two significant trips recently, one back home to Utah and another to San Francisco, where Mom lived from her childhood until she married my dad (and it's also where she met my dad).

In Utah I visited my family and felt Mom and Dad's presence a lot.  I was able to visit with my niece and nephew-in-law, who (you may remember) helped take care of Mom before she went into assisted living.  I had not been to their house before.  They bought it while still living in Mom's house, and it was a fixer-upper which they've done a great job with. 

As they excitedly showed me each room, I was touched by how much of Mom’s stuff they had hung onto.  As my niece said, every room reminds them still of "Grandma," and it was nice to feel Mom’s presence in the house.  They have the two lamp tables that sat in our living room for as long as I can remember, the vacuum she bought from Kirby, my dad's dad's old desk that sat in my old bedroom for years, the shelves in the basement that held knick knacks, Mom and Dad’s rollaway desk, the desk that held Mom’s TV and all our games, much of Mom’s kitchenware, and there was also one of our neighbor's (and Mom's best friend's) old chairs, which seemed oddly appropriate, given the long enduring friendship of my parents with our neighbors.  But what floored me the most was that my niece and nephew had saved Mom and Dad’s old couch, which is the same couch that had been in my parents’ front room for almost the entire time they lived in that house.  Frankly, the couch is outdated, faded, worn out, and saggy.  

 Mom and my sister on the couch (one of the lamp tables I referred to is at right)

 I would not have been surprised if my niece and nephew had given the couch to charity or even taken it to the dump.  But there it was in their rec room, and it brought tears to my eyes that they had saved it.  I felt Mom so much in their home.

We had a good talk about what a tough time it had been the year they stayed in Mom's house to help care for her, but my niece said that in spite of the challenges and difficulties, it was worth it and they don’t regret it at all.  My niece and nephew also acknowledged that they would not have this house if it hadn’t been for their time with Mom.  It was nice to hear that.  I really felt a strong impression from Mom that any residual resentment or anger I held toward my niece and nephew must be let go, and so that’s what I’ve done.  As for me, I am thankful for all that my niece and nephew did for Mom and all she did for them.  I’m letting bygones be bygones.  It was just so wonderful to feel pieces of Mom in that house, and I’m grateful that my niece and nephew are reminded of her every day.

The next day I visited with Mom and Dad's longtime neighbors who had been friends with Mom for over fifty years and who factored very heavily in my life growing up.  As I talked with them in their living room, I looked across the street at the house I grew up in, now no longer mine.

The people who live there now replaced the old "211" that had been on the house since Mom and Dad bought it with a newer, bigger “211.”  

 The old "211" that was on the front of our house all my life

It kind of made me sad to see the old one gone, but, obviously, I don’t blame the new owners for wanting to improve and update their house.

My sister-in-law had mentioned (and my old neighbor confirmed) that the owners of Mom and Dad's house were actually wanting to sell the it.  Evidently, it’s more than they can financially handle, and so I guess they are interested in selling.  That made me a little sad, too.  I don’t know the owners at all, but was hoping their family might have many happy, lasting memories in the house like my family did.  If I had the money, I would buy the house myself.  I’d love to have it back in the family again.  But it would be impractical and, alas, I don’t have the financial resources to make such a purchase.

My old neighbor talked about how sometimes she still expects Mom to come out of the house, and of course Mom doesn’t.  But again, just as I felt looking at Mom and Dad’s old furniture at my niece's and nephew's house, I looked across the street and saw the house my parents bought and built together and felt their presence and legacy.  They’re ever present through what they left behind, both materialistically and in how they raised and brought up their family.

 My neighbor said she was downsizing and has gotten rid of some of her nativity sets, which she collects.  She gave the one Mom gave her to my other nephew and his new wife.  It’s a nice thought that something Mom left my neighbor is now left to Mom’s grandson and his new wife.

After visiting with my former neighbors, I drove to my older sister's house and visited with her.  I liked it being just one on one without any distractions.  She asked if I was hungry, and I was, so she got me some potato salad.  It was in one of my favorite bowls of Mom’s that I had used often to eat things like cereal and ice cream.  As had been the case with this trip thus far, it was nice to be reminded of good memories and that Mom was still alive and well in the lives of her children.  When I used the bathroom, there was Mom’s old green hamper, and it was a nice sight to see.

I just really enjoyed reconnecting with my sister.  It’s clear she misses me and I miss her.  We didn’t want to say goodbye, but we had to, knowing it would be a while before we see one another again. 

I then drove to my younger sister's house.  As I visited with her I had these same feelings of Mom and Dad’s legacy as I looked at Mom’s old hutch and her and Dad’s old easy chair and as I held Mom’s namesake, Jerry (my sister's newest child) in my arms while my Dad’s namesake, Gary (her middle child) was playing nearby.  It was a nice feeling and I felt my parents in the room.

I then went to an eatery Mom and I had gone to often.  I ordered my usual, a turkey and artichoke sandwich on foccacia with avocado as well as a chai frappe (which was excellent) and a chocolate chip cookie.  It was a really good meal and the place was not very busy, so I quite enjoyed myself.

Then I went to a theater where I had worked while living in Utah. When I bought my ticket, the girl looked for my name in their computer system, but it wasn’t there, but Mom’s was.  I told them they could delete Mom as she had passed away. 

I was so pleased to be put at a table by myself (it's a dinner theater).  There were three empty chairs next to me, and I imagined Mom and Dad sitting in two of them.  Since Mom died, I have been to several theatrical productions and have had two empty seats next to me.  I always like to imagine that Mom and Dad are next to me.  Here I was again with two empty seats, and I know how much Mom enjoyed this theater when she was alive, so I was again imagining that she and Dad were next to me watching the show.  

The next day I went to the cemetery to visit Mom and Dad's headstone.  I then went to the nearby headstones of Dad's parents and sister.  Then I decided it might be fun to look for the gravestones of my Dad’s grandparents, which were in the same cemetery.  I went to the cemetery office and they gave me the information, and I was surprised to find a whole bunch of ancestors.  In all the years I’ve been to Mom and Dad's cemetery, I’ve never visited that part of the cemetery (unless I did so as a child).  There was something really neat about standing where my ancestors had once stood and where many of them were buried.  In addition to the strong presence I felt of Mom and Dad during this trip, I also felt my ancestors, whom I didn’t even know in life, around me.  It was a neat feeling.

After I left the cemetery I dropped in on my great uncle (Dad's dad's brother).  The man is 97 years old and still very sharp.  His hearing and sight have diminished a great deal, but his mind and memory are still quite sharp and he is very healthy and active for 97.  We really had a nice visit and a really nice lunch.  I realize, statistically, my uncle's days are numbered, although I wouldn’t be the least surprised if he lived well into his hundreds.  I try to visit him and his sister (who's 94) more often.  I’d call them more, but they don’t hear very well, so it’s sometimes hard to have a conversation by telephone.  

I saw another show at a different theater where I had worked often.  Once again, I had two empty seats next to me.  I was right on the aisle of the fifth or sixth row with the two seats on my left.  I once again imagined Mom and Dad were with me (or maybe it wasn’t my imagination at all).

This particular show involved audience participation, and I ended up being on the stage with the other actors (three of whom were friends I had worked with previously in other productions).  It was a lot of fun but it was surreal watching the first act from on stage.  What was even weirder was being on a stage I had worked on professionally for several years surrounded by people I had acted with professionally, but this time only being a guest.  What it made me feel was “I need to be on stage again.  I belong here.  I should be in shows just like this one.”  I hope it happens sooner than later.  I'm ready to be on stage again. 

It was fun being back home in Utah.  I've missed my former home and my friends and family a lot.

The day after I got back home to Jonah, we took our trip to California.  We went to San Jose and Petaluma, but what was really memorable for me was visiting San Francisco.  I've only been to San Francisco twice (to the best of my knowledge) - once when I was very young and once on a theatre trip when I was in high school in 1986.

I have just snatches of memories from my first trip.  I remember crossing a bridge (the Golden Gate or Oakland, I can't remember (though I know I crossed the Oakland Bridge on my 1986 trip)); I remember being in a park (probably Golden Gate Park) by a merry-go-round with my mom's brothers' kids; I remember watching The Lone Ranger on my grandma's TV in her apartment and wanting to take her TV home to Utah because we didn't get that show in Utah; I remember my siblings teasing me because I had a crush on one of my cousins - I think I played in the backyard of my Uncle John's house in Martinez.  That's all I really remember from that trip.

The 1986 trip I remember better because I was older.  I remember riding the cable car with two of my actor friends; I remember going to Alcatraz and Fisherman's Wharf; Grandma came out in a taxi to visit me while I was there; I remember how expensive everything seemed; and I remember spending a lot of time on the campus of Berkley for the theatre competition we were there for.

To the best of my knowledge, I never visited any of Mom's old stomping grounds.  I decided to do that on this trip with Jonah.  We did cross the Golden Gate Bridge on our way to Petaluma, and that was pretty neat.

We happened to go to Petaluma on a Saturday and went to San Francisco on Sunday, so traffic wasn't too bad either day, although I felt like the drivers around me were driving much faster than was necessary.  It made me nervous. 

I had brought some old pictures of Mom in San Francisco (at her church, her childhood apartment, the apartment she lived in as a teenager, the park, etc.) and thought it might be fun to take some “then and now” photos. 
Our GPS pooped out on us during the drive so we took a wrong turn and ended up somewhere different than we had intended to go, but maybe it was meant to be that way.  We happened onto Mom’s childhood street, Broderick Street, and worked our way to her old apartment building.  San Francisco is not an easy city to park in, so Jonah ended up driving around while I would take pictures in various locales and then he would pick me up.  I was trying to be artsy and took pictures of Mom’s old photos in front of the locale where they had been taken originally.  I didn’t line the old photos up as accurately as I would have liked, but like I said, I was in a hurry.

Mom's childhood apartment

 There was something kind of magical about standing in spots my mother had once stood as a child (or where her parents had stood), and there was something cool about visiting these places I had never (to my knowledge) been before.  When I was taking photos of Mom’s old apartment building from her childhood, some lady was trying to get in (and someone eventually buzzed her in), and I thought how cool it would have been to actually go inside Mom’s old apartment (not that it would have meant much to me since I had never been there).  It was fun to take pictures in front of her old apartment and in front of the apartment of her friend, Mildred Palmer, who lived across the street when Mom was a girl.  As fun as the taking of the photos was, I think Jonah's driving around San Francisco was stressful.

 Note the lady trying to get into the apartment building



 Mom and her mom and siblings

 Mildred Palmer's old apartment.  Her dad was my grandparents' landlord.

 Mom and her dad and brothers


 Mom and her mom



 Mom and her brothers


 Mom and her brothers

                  We next went to Mom’s old high school, which is now the home of a community college, I believe.  We actually did find parking there.  

Then we drove to my grandpa and grandma's old apartment and I took some pictures there while Jonah drove around.   

 Where Mom lived as a teenager

 Mom's mom and stepfather

I stood on the same step Mom had once stood on as a young woman and doing so made me feel connected to her in a different way than I had experienced before.  I wish I would have had more time to take it in, but it was still nice.  
             I had wanted to get some photos in Panhandle Park (off of Golden Gate Park), but the park was very crowded that Sunday and traffic was heavy in the area, and there just wasn’t any place to park, so we decided to bag it.

    Our next stop was Mom’s old church, the Sunset Ward, and actually, Jonah was able to find a parking spot.  We almost didn’t want to give it up.  Because it was Sunday, church was in session, and as I approached the church building, some ward members and the missionaries came out.  

 Mom is front at the very right

I talked with them a bit and explained what I was doing and asked if they thought it would be okay if I went inside.  They said they thought that would be alright.  I went in and took a photo of the picture of Jesus that is shown in the picture my mom had of a conference taken in 1956. 

 This was a conference held in the Sunset Ward building in San Francisco in 1956 presided over by David O. McKay.  Note the picture of Jesus in the middle.

  Close-up.  David O. McKay and his wife are at the far right in the middle.  Mom is in the back left with the "x" over her head.

    I ran into a custodian who knew the building well, and he was very nice.  Sacrament Meeting was going on, so I couldn’t go in the chapel, but the custodian let me go into the cultural hall and take a photo.  

 Mom in the cultural hall.

He talked to me about the building and asked me about my parents when I explained why I was doing what I was doing.  I felt a little bad because he was under the impression that I was still a member of the church and he was trusting me because of that, but he was very kind and I appreciated his letting me have a closer look at the building.          
               Being in the same room that my parents once held their wedding reception in (at least I think it was) was touching and moving.  It almost brought me to tears.  It was so surreal being in the place where Mom and Dad were at the beginning of their marriage, especially since I had never been there before.  
 Dad and Mom at their reception

It was a nice connection.   
           Once I took my photos, Jonah and I both agreed that driving and parking in San Francisco was more stressful than we wanted to deal with, so we opted not to explore any more of San Francisco and drove back to Petaluma. 
                On our way back home we had decided to drive home via the Pacific Coast Highway even though it would add about 5 and half hours to our trip.  We just thought it would be a fun and scenic way to end our trip.  We got up early on Monday morning and had breakfast at the motel (and it was a pretty good spread).  We left about 7 or 7:15 am.  Because it was Monday, traffic from Petaluma to San Francisco was much worse than it had been on Saturday and Sunday.  It was also a little foggy. 

We actually spent the first hour of our trip in traffic from Petaluma to San Francisco.  Driving in San Francisco was even worse than it had been on Sunday, but we got through okay and then onto the freeway.  There sure were a lot of crazy drivers on the way, though.

                The Pacific Coast Highway was pretty awesome and very beautiful, but there were also times when it felt precarious and scary.  There were really beautiful trees, and it was fun to drive the coast and see the ocean.  Some drivers seemed so impatient (and one guy, in particular, who crossed the double lines seemed unnecessarily dangerous). 

                I felt Mom and Dad with us on the trip, and I was reminded of the poem I wrote about in this post:

"Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of far-off birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
Lacrymosa, dies illa (That sorrowful day)
I am in ev’ry flower that blooms,
I am in still and empty rooms.
I am the child that yearns to sing:
I am in each lovely thing

Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I did not die."

                All the beautiful sights we saw on our Pacific Coast Highway drive reminded me that Mom and Dad are very much with me.  I wondered if Dad had driven this route when he visited Mom from Long Beach or on his way back to his ship when he was in the Navy.  It seems logical that he might have taken that route.

                At the beginning of our drive, Jonah got a message from the woman in Utah to whom he had given the Jack O’ Lantern he originally made for Mom, but which we took after Mom moved out of her house.  She wrote:

                Hey [Jonah],
A couple of years ago, you surprised me with a gift of this pumpkin where I keep your card and think of you every fall when I put my decorations out.  Love it still and wanted to let you know...Jane.
Sandy Antique Mall,  Ut”

Jonah responded:

Hi Jane
“It was so great to get this email from you ,,, I knew you were the right person to take care of this special pumpkin that my mother in-law loved so much before she was moved into assisted living. In September of 2013 she passed away and our trips to Utah are not as frequent as they were before but it's great to know that this piece of folk art that I made has a great caretaker like you ..... So thank you for being a great caretaker and sending me this email when I needed it. It means a lot to me that you love it ,,,
“Take care Jane and thank you for the blessing of your email ,,,

We thought that was maybe Mom’s way of letting us know she was with us.

Both of the trips I took were very enjoyable, and I'm really glad Mom and Dad tagged along.  They are always welcome.

Monday, September 01, 2014

'Til We Meet Again, Dear Anne

On July 6 I wrote this post about my dear friend, Anne, who was diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer.  On Saturday night a friend informed me that she had passed away that afternoon.  What was weird was that ten minutes before I found out I suddenly got emotional and weepy for no apparent reason.  I don't know if it was coincidental or connected, but I thought it was interesting.

I wish you could have known Anne.  If joy, laughter, light, energy, life, and love could be personified, it would be Anne.  It's so fun to read all the nice things people have been writing about her.  It's clear that everyone who knew or was touched by her feels the same way about her as I do: she was one of the most beautiful souls, inside and out, that I have ever known.

Anne died as she lived, as fully as possible and with no regrets.  When she walked in a room, it was like getting a breath of fresh air.  I shall miss that.

I truly think the world is poorer for the loss of Anne (although I know Anne is still very much with us).  Anne was truly too good for this world and heaven is truly fortunate now.  But those of us left behind are heartbroken.

I know you're still around, Anne, but I can't wait to see you smiling face and to feel your warm embrace and energy again.

I love you.

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Robin Williams, Suicide, And Depression

Like many people, I find Robin Williams' death sad and tragic.  I was shocked by both his death and the way he died.  What has shocked me more, however, is how insensitive people have been regarding his death or the choice he made to end his life.

I've seen people call him a coward or selfish, for example, and these words have hurt my heart.  Judging from all the kind things people who knew Williams personally have said about him, I doubt the last thing he would ever have wanted to do was hurt anybody he cared about, although leaving behind those that he loved has likely done just that.

I myself have never suffered from severe depression, although I have (in the past) wondered if life would be easier if I just were dead.  I have a few dear friends who do suffer from severe depression.  I have one friend who is so talented and terrific, but he deals with terrible depression.  I have fully expected to hear that he has taken his life, but he hangs on even though life can feel very miserable to him at times.  I know he has thought about suicide at times.

The sad fact is that there are some who suffer from depression that just can't seem to get out of its throes.  I've seen people insensitively question why a man as rich, successful, and funny as Robin Williams would take his own life when he seemingly had so much to live for.  But none of those things can fix true depression. 

Larry King, in referring to Williams' depression offered the following description of someone who suffers from depression:

"With depression, somebody could walk into a room and tell you that your rich uncle just died and left you a million dollars. Or that same person could walk in and tell you that your uncle died alone, face up in a gutter somewhere. The news would hit you the same either way."

Having never experienced the kind of depression my friends or Robin Williams have experienced, I cannot say I know how it feels.  I just know I can't judge the choices someone makes who suffers from depression.  To me, there is a little difference between cancer, a broken leg, a stroke, a burn, schizophrenia, or depression; they are all ailments that need treatment and if not treated, can lead to complications or death. 

I do not know how it feels to think the only option to release from pain and sadness is to take one's life, but I know there are people who do and sometimes they make that choice, and I can't judge them for that.

I remember many years ago a friend of mine committed suicide.  He was just a wonderful man, and I was shocked by his death by his own hand.  At his funeral I got the very clear impression that he was genuinely surprised by how much people cared about and loved him - and I guess that's the thing, when a person is in a frame of mind to kill themselves, they aren't seeing things as they might actually be; their perception has led them to believe that this is the only way out.

In the end, I'm glad God is the final judge.  I surely don't need to condemn Robin Williams.  He was, by many accounts, a very kind and open individual and he was a great actor and comedian.  I liked him very much and I hope he has found some of the peace that seemed to elude him in his mortal life.

The Period of Mourning Is Officially Over

Sunday night I was feeling particularly sad and missing Mom a lot.  It had actually been a rough day for both Jonah and me.  He had been thinking about his dad a lot and I had been dwelling on my mom. 

Jonah had gone to work and I decided to listen to some choral music.  I found a playlist on Spotify and started listening.  The second song was one I had never heard before based on a poem I was not familiar with.

Here are the lyrics:

"Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of far-off birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
Lacrymosa, dies illa (That sorrowful day)
I am in ev’ry flower that blooms,
I am in still and empty rooms.
I am the child that yearns to sing:
I am in each lovely thing
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I did not die."

As I heard these words I felt Mom's presence very clearly, and the message she had to give me was simple and direct: "Stop mourning!"

I felt her spirit say to mine, "It's okay that you miss me; it's even good that you miss me.  It's okay that you cry because you miss me.  It's okay that you're sad sometimes.  But you don't have to be sad, you don't have to miss me, and you don't have to cry because I'm right here.  I have never left.  I am still with you, so there's no need to mourn anymore."

I felt no judgment from her, and I also felt that it was my choice to continue to grieve or not, but that she was simply telling me I didn't have to anymore; that if I was grieving for me, that was my choice, but if I was grieving for her, it isn't necessary.

Part of the reason I get sad about Mom (aside from the fact that I just miss her incredibly) is that I never want her to forget how much I love and miss her.  She was essentially telling me she already knows, nor is she gone, so it's not necessary for me to be sad.

Little things trigger my emotions.  On Saturday I was thinking of going to Wells Fargo to deposit a check, and for some reason I started thinking about the branch my mom banked with in Utah and how the tellers were all so friendly with her and new her by name and appearance and I wondered if any of the "regulars" she had seen in there ever wondered where she was or if they missed seeing her, and it made me sad.  It was a weird chain of thoughts, but it just made me miss the way things once were.

When I researched the poem the song was based on, I found this on Wikipedia:

[Mary Elizabeth] Frye, who was living in Baltimore at the time, wrote the poem in 1932. She had never written any poetry, but the plight of a young German Jewish woman, Margaret Schwarzkopf, who was staying with her and her husband, inspired the poem. Margaret Schwarzkopf had been concerned about her mother, who was ill in Germany, but she had been warned not to return home because of increasing anti-Semitic unrest. When her mother died, the heartbroken young woman told Frye that she never had the chance to 'stand by my mother’s grave and shed a tear'. Frye found herself composing a piece of verse on a brown paper shopping bag. Later she said that the words 'just came to her' and expressed what she felt about life and death.

I completely agree with Frye's assessment on life and death: Mom is actually here with me.  There is no need to weep over her loss because I haven't actually lost her at all.  While I can't see and talk to her in the same way I could when she was in her physical body, I can see talk to her and hear and feel her if I pay attention.  I can still "see" her in many, many different ways.  This knowledge is of great comfort to me, and I believe it.  As we approach the first anniversary of Mom leaving her mortal body, I am choosing not to mourn and grieve, for she is not gone at all.  I'm sure there will be moments when I forget that and become sad. but I am actively reminding myself that she is still right here with me.

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

A Visit From Mom

Sunday night I'm pretty certain Mom paid me a visit.  Jonah and I had gone to see a production of Cabaret and then I dropped him off at work and went back home.  I re-watched the last two episodes of "Lost" again because I find them moving, particularly the last episode. 

As I've mentioned before, the show deals with themes of life and death and what happens to us when we die and the legacy we leave behind.  These thoughts have been on my mind lately and I thought re-watching these episodes could help reinforce some of the ideas I've been thinking about.

As I watched the last episode, I thought about how wonderful it will be to be reunited with those who have gone before us.  And I felt her.  I felt Mom was there with me.

I went into the backyard into our beautiful garden.  The weather was cooler with a light breeze.  And I felt her there with me, and I talked with her.

I went back in the house.  It was almost time to pick Jonah up from work.  I played a song on the piano called "And I Love You So."  I've talked about this before where I played the song and then the same song played in my car just minutes later.  Well, the same thing happened again.  I was playing the song on the piano and singing, and I felt like Mom, much as she had done so in mortal life, was sitting nearby or leaning over me listening to me perform.

When I got in the car to go pick up Jonah, the very same song started playing, and I just started laughing because I was sure Mom was with me.

But here's another interesting thing.  The next day I received this random message from a Facebook friend.  We're friends, although not super close, and I have not heard from her in some time.  This is what she wrote:

Hi, [Cody]!  This may sound really strange, but last night a vision popped in my head of you when you were little standing with your mom outside in front of a little red wagon (like a radio flyer.)  Then you now, with her hand on your knee...almost like saying she's with you.  I felt like I needed to share this with you...hope you don't think I'm nuts.

I replied:

I don't think you're nuts at all.  I actually am quite certain my mom visited me last night, so this is a pleasant confirmation.  [Then I related what I've previously written above]  I think your vision is just extra confirmation of [all that I've related].

I don't believe in coincidences.  Thank you so much for sharing.

She wrote back:

O gooodie [Cody]!!!!  I'm so glad!  It was definitely your mama!

There are no coincidences, I'm glad you felt her last night!

Thank you for confirming what I felt was real...this has helped me trust that all my hard work on raising my consciousness is not in vain...& to trust it.

Thank you!  I hope all is wonderful with you!

Others may believe as they wish, but I feel certain Mom visited me.  At the very least, I'd like to think so.  It gives me comfort and certainly doesn't seem beyond the realm of possibility.

I'm glad my friend followed her instincts and shared her experience with me.

Monday, July 28, 2014

Remembering Pam (Feeling Homesick)

A few days ago one of my mom's best friends passed away.  Her name was Pam and I had known her as long as I can remember.  Mom and Pam were particularly close in the late 80s and through the 90s.  They were still friends after that, but Pam gradually kind of disappeared from view over the last few years.  I know she had health problems and she stopped going to church, and I felt like her and Mom lost touch even though they both lived in the same neighborhood.  I felt like Pam, for whatever reasons, became a bit of a recluse.  We saw her occasionally, but it wasn't the same.

The last time I remember seeing Pam was probably three years ago.  Mom and I went to one of our favorite restaurants at the time, Jumbo Buffet, and Pam was there with her son.  We chatted and it was all friendly, but Pam seemed distant...different, somehow.  Mom was showing signs of dementia then, although she was still doing okay.

Pam and Mom used to take walks every day in their neighborhood.  It was a ritual for both of them for quite some time, and I know both ladies enjoyed their friendship and talks very much.  I always felt a little sad that Pam kind of withdrew.

I understand that she even kind of withdrew from her family somewhat as well.  Evidently no one in her family, including those that lived with her, knew how sick Pam was until very close to the end.  She apparently didn't share that information with her family for whatever reason.  She also chose not to go to the hospital or a care facility and died at home, from what I understand.  I can respect that, but I also wonder if those who loved her most felt cheated at all.

I actually don't know what was going on in Pam's life these last few years.  As I said, in her later years she didn't seem the same to me.

I'm glad Pam and Mom are reunited again and I hope they are taking many "walks" together, wherever they may be.

I'm been thinking a lot about death lately.  A lot.

It's funny, as I get older I think about my own mortality and, obviously, the older one gets, the more death one experiences.  It's natural to lose people you've known and loved as you progress in age.  I think Mom's death, Pam's death, Jonah's dad's death, the deaths of some people in Mom's old ward, Harold's death, and the impending death of my friend, Anne have really put death on my mind this past year.

Another friend's longtime dog passed away, and my other friend's brother just died from cancer.

And as I get older, I feel my body slowly falling apart.  I'm only 43, but my hips and knees and back and neck and feet ache.  I get winded more easily.  I can't as easily do things as I could in my twenties or thirties.  I don't see or hear as I did ten or twenty years ago.  I know I'm getting older.  And I know things will just continue to deteriorate.  That's just part of mortality.

I've talked about death before (here and here, for example).  It's not something I find depressing or scary.  It just is.  It's a part of this journey we call life and every one of us will experience it eventually.  But it is sometimes hard to be separated from people you care about or love or see others go through the same thing.

I think about Jonah and me.  One of us is going to go first (unless we somehow die together, but that isn't as likely a scenario), and it's going to be very painful for whoever is left behind.  I think about my poor mom, who had to wait 21 years to be reunited with my father or my grandma, who had to wait almost as long to be reunited with my grandpa.  I think about another friend who lost his wife shortly after Mom died and how much he misses her and misses her.

Recently I finished re-watching "Lost" and one of the themes of the show deals with death and what happens to us in the afterlife.  I am convinced that the afterlife will be a great and wonderful place where we will be able to have continuing relationships with those who have gone before us.

It's weird, but sometimes I think I get "homesick" for my heavenly home.  Sometimes when I watch the news and hear about wars and crime and the terrible things human beings do to one another, I long for a place filled with peace and love and kindness, which is what I think heaven will be like.

Don't get me wrong; I don't wish for death.  Not at all.  I like my life and it has been and continues to be a happy one.  I recently wrote on Facebook:

"I was thinking about it today: I have had a great life thus far. Sure, it's had its share of trials and disappointments, but I honestly wouldn't change a thing (except maybe quitting piano lessons when I was 10). Every moment I've had in life, both good and bad, has brought me to the person I am now, and I like who I am and the life I lead. If I died today (which I hope is not the case) I could look back on the life I had and be very satisfied with how it turned out."

I think how wonderful it will be to see Mom and Dad again and my friend, Melanie, and Marlyse and my grandmas and grandpas and aunt and neighbors from the ward and Jonah's dad, etc.  But it also saddens me that those left behind continue to grieve, even if it's only for a relatively short season.

I'm quite convinced that Mom visited me this evening.  It was a feeling, but a very strong one.  I'm glad she reminds me she's still around.  Sometimes I need it.  I am quite certain our departed loved ones are not far off at all.

I recently read a book called The Afterlife of Billy Fingers, which I briefly talked about in this post.  It reminded me of something that has really been solidifying itself in my brain: I am more and more convinced that the essential purposes of life are to learn and to love.  If we are doing those two things, we are living successfully.  I don't believe that the kind of judgments we cast on one another (and ourselves) in this life exist so much in the hereafter.  I recently came across this quote by Ram Dass:

"When you go out into the woods and you look at trees, you see all these different trees. And some of them are bent, and some of them are straight, and some of them are evergreens, and some of them are whatever. And you look at the tree and you allow it. You appreciate it. You see why it is the way it is. You sort of understand that it didn’t get enough light, and so it turned that way. And you don...’t get all emotional about it. You just allow it. You appreciate the tree. The minute you get near humans, you lose all that. And you are constantly saying ‘You’re too this, or I’m too this.’ That judging mind comes in. And so I practice turning people into trees. Which means appreciating them just the way they are."

Many near death experiences I've ever read about describe an indescribable love and the experience of not feeling judged.  I think this life is a school of learning whatever lessons we're here to learn and a place to learn what love is and how to give and receive it in great abundance.

Actually, we don't need to learn to love.  We already know what that is from the pre-existence.  We're here to be reminded of the love we already know.

I would like to experience a life of pure, unfiltered love.  The world would be so much better if we just loved without judgment, if we could really understand each others' hearts purely and totally.  I long for that.

As for me, I try (and sometimes fail) to be as good and as loving a person as I know how to be.  I hope whenever my time comes that I will be remembered as someone who brought love and positivity into this world we all share.

Saturday, July 19, 2014

Missing The Theatre Community

Jonah was nominated for a costuming award by the local theatre community for a show he did.  Because he was busy costuming another production, he was unable to attend the awards ceremony.  I happened to be free that night, and Jonah and I both thought it would be a good idea if I went in his stead to represent him. 

Jonah actually didn't think he would win, although I do think he secretly wanted to.  I actually had a feeling he might and prayed that he would.  Jonah is an incredibly talented costume designer, and even though I may be biased, he truly does have a gift.  The theater company that did the production he was nominated for has not always been very good about showing their appreciation for his work.  It is my opinion that the powers that be that operate this particular theater sometimes take Jonah for granted and even take advantage of him.  Jonah has done a lot of work for them and has helped them out a lot, and sometimes I feel they don't give him either the recognition or thanks he deserves.  In any case, part of me just wanted him to win the award because I thought it would be a nice symbol of the appreciation I think my guy deserves.

Jonah thought the night might be fun for me as well, a chance to hobnob with some of the local theatre community.  When I worked in Utah, I was very in touch with the local theatre community.  I worked as an actor a lot, and I developed a lot of friendships.  I'd see the same people at parties, auditions, and jobs, and it was a great network of people to belong to.

Here, I'm not as active in the theatre community, and I don't know as many people.  I also feel like the professional theatre community is not as strong as it was in Utah, but the community theatre network is doing some great stuff.  In any case, I feel like a bit of an outsider even though I know a few people in the local theatre community.  It's an odd feeling to be an outsider when not so long ago I felt like an insider.

The awards ceremony was enjoyable.  I got to meet to some interesting and nice people and have a little more exposure to the theatre community here.

But I also felt a certain yearning to be back on stage again.  I miss it.

At the same time, I love being home with Jonah.  I love being home.  Period.  With my husband and our cats.  I like having a steady, stable, relatively secure, enjoyable job at a company that has good benefits and treats me well.  I like not having to live out of a suitcase.  I like not having to constantly hustle for the next acting job. 

But I miss doing plays.  I miss the variety of playing different characters.  I miss the theatre network I was a part of.

I like my current job.  I really do.  But I also am a little bored, which has always been a problem for me.  I get bored too easily.  I do the same job for a while, and I get bored.

Truth is, I would be foolish to give up the job I have.  The hours are great, the pay is enough, the job at least relates somewhat to my chosen field of study, and most of the time it is enjoyable.  And it's easy.  So easy.  For what I get paid, this job is a piece of cake.  I still am acting, and I play a delightful character that I enjoy playing.  But it's lost its newness, and I would love to do something more meaty.  I wish I could just take six weeks off and do a play somewhere, but that's not really possible.  I'll probably stay here until the show we're doing closes, which could be anywhere from three years to indefinitely.

The theatre company I worked for in Utah is doing some exciting stuff this coming season, stuff that I would have enjoyed doing and could probably have gotten cast in.  I'm always interested in auditioning for the Utah Shakespeare as well.  I'd love to do some more Shakespeare.  Even though musicals were often my bread and butter, I'm not as interested in doing them as I once was, although once in a while one will come along that I'd love to be a part of.  Truth is, my body just doesn't feel like doing choreography anymore, and I don't have as good of breath support as I once did.  Musicals are harder work in some ways than straight plays, although straight plays can be exhausting, too.  And maybe I've reached a period in my life when I just need to take it easy for a bit.  If the show I'm involved in closes in the future, maybe I can go back to stage work again.

I have gotten a little more involved in film and TV lately and have even booked a couple of gigs, but I don't know if my strengths lie in TV and film work or not.  In some ways it feels like I'm starting over again.

When I was at the awards ceremony, I was a little jealous that some of these theatre companies were doing some productions that are geared more to the type of theatre I am interested in doing.  In fact, coincidentally, I had just read two of the plays that were up for nomination.  Because I am a member of Actors' Equity Association and these companies are non-union, I couldn't do these shows anyway, but I still would love to do more serious theatre.

At the ceremony they had some performers from various shows around town do some musical numbers from different shows, and some of these people were quite talented, and it just made me miss being on stage.

Jonah's award was one of the first.  His was the last name to be announced from the list of nominees, and when they announced him as the winner my chest practically burst with pride.  I went up to accept the award on his behalf and almost cried I was so happy for my husband.  I said a few short words about how I knew Jonah was so honored to be nominated and recognized for his work and I thanked those who voted for him.

After I sat down I texted Jonah to let him know he'd won.  I really could tell he was proud of having won.  He later sent a Facebook message to those in the theatre community to let them know how he felt.

A couple of my friends won awards, too, so that was nice.  I had an enjoyable time, but it also felt lonely in a way.  I can't really explain it.

Monday, July 07, 2014

My Trip To Indiana ---sigh---

Well, let me tell you about my trip to Indiana.  It was everything I dreamed it would be, and if you have read this post, you know my dreams about this trip were not very good.

First of all, Jonah's mom backed out of the trip.  She's been feeling ill (and really, I think she just didn't want to go) and didn't feel she could make the trip.  So the whole reason we were making the trip in the first place, to accompany Jonah's mother, was completely invalidated.

Furthermore, the tickets we bought were nonrefundable, so we're out that money unless we can convince the airline to make an exception.  Jonah's sister, Angie, paid $403 for the ticket, and Jonah and I fronted $111.  Of course, once Angie found out Mom wasn't coming, she pestered Jonah about getting her money back.  Jonah ended up giving her $300 just to get her off his back, so now he's out that money.

I know Jonah's mom is actually ill, but not once has she even apologized for putting us in this position, and that has annoyed me.  But that's how she is.

Anyway, neither Jonah nor I were excited to take this trip, but figured we ought to make the most of it.  A friend drove us to the airport and when we got there we discovered our flight would be delayed which meant we would likely miss our connecting flight in Dallas, and that flight would be the last to Fort Wayne, Indiana that evening, which meant we might have to stay overnight in Dallas, a prospect we were not looking forward to.

As we went through security, I saw a video I'm in - one of those TSA instructional videos about what to do and not do when going through security, so that was kind of fun to see.  It's fun knowing thousands of people traveling through the airport will see my face every day.

Jonah and I waited patiently for our flight, which was supposed to leave at 12:25 PM but didn't leave until almost 2 PM, and we joked about how this was just the kind of start we would have to a trip we didn't want to go on in the first place.

Jonah texted Angie to let her know we might have to stay in Dallas for the night, and of course, Angie freaked out and kept texting Jonah back asking him what that meant and literally texting every 3 or 4 minutes to find out our progress.  Jonah ignored her texts, which drove her even more crazy.

When we finally boarded the plane, we we feeling a bit frustrated, and I find it humorous that a Muzak version of "Let It Go" from Frozen was being played.  I also heard a Bon Jovi song and "Radioactive" by Imagine Dragons (neither of which really sounds that great as a Muzak arrangement).

The crew of our first flight never even acknowledged or apologized for the delay, which I didn't think was too cool.

We arrived in Dallas five minutes before our connecting flight was scheduled to take off and we knew if it were leaving on time we would never make it as our gates weren't remotely close to one another (Dallas is a pretty large airport).

Fortunately, our connecting flight was also delayed, so we were able to make it (and actually ended up having to wait a while).  That flight was supposed to leave at 7:15 and didn't end up leaving until about 8:50.  Now we were concerned because we would be arriving in Fort Wayne after the rental car place closed (although we hoped they would remain open).

The flight to Fort Wayne was on a smaller plane, and I found their crew to be nicer (and apologetic) than the plane we had taken to Dallas.  I also saw a lightning storm from above, which I had never seen before, and I thought that was cool.

Angie text us to let us know that she and her husband, Frank, would be there to pick us up in case the rental place was closed.  We ended up getting to Fort Wayne at almost 1:00 AM, almost two hours after we should have gotten there.  Fortunately, the rental car place had remained open for us and other passengers.

We followed Angie and Frank as they drove toward their house, and then when we got to the street where our hotel was, they pointed the way, said they'd see us the next day, and left us to find it.  We found it, and in spite of our lateness, were able to get checked in.

All in all, as I told Jonah, in spite of delays and inconveniences, I was very pleased we had made both flights, had gotten to Fort Wayne, and had been able to get our car (which was bigger than the one we had requested because they ran out of standard sized cars, so that was a nice upgrade) and checked into our hotel, which was at a very discounted rate because my brother works for Marriott.

We were so tired when we got to Fort Wayne.  It had been a long, long day, and we went to bed pretty much as soon as we checked in.  Our room had a double bed for Mom and one for us, so we just used the one, which was smaller than the king-sized bed we are used to.

We slept in pretty late that first day.  Angie wanted us at her house by 12 or so because she wanted to take photos.  I wish I could describe Angie to you.  She's not a bad person, although she does carry and hold on to a lot of negativity.  She also lives in a world that revolves around her.  Somehow she is able to make everything about her and how it affects her.  Even though this graduation was about Tatiana (her daughter), somehow what she (Angie) wanted was always more important. She had literally told us that although she knew we were on vacation, we were hers for the entire time we were there.

I don’t remember what time we ended up going to Angie’s (probably more like 1 or so).  Angie wanted to take photos of us with her and the family and Tatiana.  She was bossing everybody around and somehow once again making it more about what she wanted than anything.  We smiled through it, though, and got some good pictures.  I also got to meet Aiden, Angie and Frank’s son, who seemed like a pretty level-headed kid for how crazy his mom is sometimes.

I was pleased the weather was about 20 degrees cooler than it had been at home.  It was pretty pleasant the whole time we were there.

Tatiana had to be to the Colliseum (the venue where the graduation was to be held) at 3:45 pm.  

 For some reason Angie wanted us all there at that time as well even though the graduation didn’t start until 6:00 pm.  Jonah, me, and Jonah’s niece, Melissa, ducked out on the pretense of going to the bank (which we did, to get the money Angie wanted, but we were gone much longer than we needed to be).  We also found out that Angie had guilted Melissa into buying groceries for her and her family and that Melissa, who had originally planned on staying until Wednesday, wanted to leave on Monday because she was already fed up with Angie and didn’t want to stay at their apartment anymore.  We told her she could stay with us since we had Mom’s spare bed.

                At the graduation I met Frank's mother and Angie’s biological mother and aunt.  Angie’s real mother, Sandra, was once a prostitute, and I’m not even sure if Angie knows who her biological father is.  It was during the time she was prostituting that she essentially abandoned Angie, which is when Jonah’s parents stepped in and basically raised her.  Sandra has since converted to Mormonism and seems a much different person than the one Angie knew as a child.  Angie still hangs on to a lot of resentment and won’t let go of the past.  I’m not implying that kind of past is easy to let go of, but it does seem to me that the negativity Angie holds on to concerning her mother is far more damaging to Angie than it is to Sandra.  With Angie, everything is someone else’s fault, but she never accepts blame for anything herself.

Angie has recently become a minister in the church she belongs to, but as Jonah says, she seems to be one who often “talks the talk” but can’t “walk the walk.”  Aiden and Tatiana call Sandra “Sandra” rather than “Grandma” which bothers Jonah more than it bothers me.  He says that in spite of her faults or past, Sandra is still the kids’ grandmother and if Angie is going to preach to others to ‘honor thy father and mother,” she should do the same.  But I can sort of understand Angie’s point-of-view.  After all, for much of her life, Angie was not treated well by Sandra, and I know Angie still hangs on to that resentment.

We got back to the graduation about 4:45 and waited outside until they opened the doors at 5 and then waited another hour before it began.  I ended up falling asleep.  Jonah took a picture of me dozing.  What can I say, I was exhausted.

Happily, the graduation was relatively short.  The speeches were short, and the class was only about 400 or so.  I did find it odd that Angie used one of her tickets to let her pastor sit with her in the parents’ seats, but made Frank's mom sit in the regular seats with us. 

I dislike when people hoot and holler at graduations especially when the audience is asked to wait until all names are called to applaud.  Just a personal preference, but I wish there had been more decorum.  Still, I’m sure Tatiana was pleased to be cheered on by her family.

We met Angie’s pastor after the graduation and we later found out she had advised Angie against letting us stay with her because our homosexuality would be a bad influence on the kids and the home.  She also made some disparaging remark about Jonah's mom not being there.  I found her fake and ingratiating.

We went to IHOP after the graduation and I sat near Sandra and her sister Janice and we actually talked about Mormon stuff a bit.  I do miss the Mormon culture a bit, but I also found Sandra and her sister to be nice, if not a bit overzealous with their faith.

We went back to Angie’s to get Melissa's stuff and to visit a bit.  I was so ready to go back to the hotel, which we eventually did.

Saturday we decided to take Aiden, Tatiana, and Melissa on a little adventure, which was nice.  It was nice to get to know my nephews and nieces better, for them to spend time together, and for all of us to be away from Angie for a bit. 

We started the day by having breakfast at our hotel with Angie, Frank, the kids, Aiden's girlfriend, and the in-laws.  Then Jonah and I took the kids in the car.

We decided to go to Kokomo, which was about an hour or so away from Ft. Wayne.  

Jonah's sister Rose had called us and said her ex-boyfriend, Carl (who she’s still on good terms with)’s parents lived there and he was hoping we could check in on them as he had not seen them in some time.  Jonah, being the very kind person he is, decided to do just that.

All the stereotypes I ever had about Indiana seemed to be true: lots of corn fields and farms,

lots of Christians, and a lot of down-to-earth and kind people.  Carl’s parents seemed to be no exception.  We did find out that Carl’s mother has cancer, which Carl did not know about.  They were very nice people and it was fun to just get away even if there was not a lot to see.

We went to a couple of antique stores, both in Kokomo and on the way back to Ft. Wayne.  Aiden and I enjoyed looking at some Star Wars memorabilia together.  We also went to the Salvation Army when we got back to Ft. Wayne, but it wasn’t very interesting.  We also ate at McDonald’s in Kokomo as well.

We all decided to go to the mall and eat and see a movie.  

 I was beyond tired and both Jonah and I fully expected to sleep during the movie.   The kids were interested in seeing Maleficent, which was fine because I actually wasn’t interested in seeing it and felt it would be a good movie to sleep through.  However, once the movie started, I actually became interested in it and only dozed off twice, but I felt like I saw most of it.  It was better than I had expected.

We got the kids some food to eat and paid for their meals.  Angie and Frank are poor, which means the kids are poor, so it’s not often they’re treated to a movie and a meal.  In fact, I think Tatiana was feeling guilty, like she shouldn’t order much, but I told her to get whatever she wanted.  Then Jonah bought them some clothes while I went over to Barnes & Noble to look for a book Mom’s cousin, Linda had recommended called The Afterlife of Billy Fingers.  I was able to find and buy it, and I quite enjoyed it a lot.

We eventually took the kids back to Angie’s and Angie made some crack to Jonah about getting her kids home in one piece that he didn’t appreciate.  They invited us to stay for a movie.  I was tired and wanted to get home, but we stayed and watched the Liam Neeson movie, Non-Stop, which I think I would have enjoyed more if Angie and her family hadn’t spent the whole time talking through it (another pet peeve of mine).  

 Melissa stayed with us again that night.

Sunday we decided to try to make a day more for ourselves and Melissa.  We went to a couple of antique stores.  One was in this really weird, creepy looking building that looked like an office building on the outside and a weird house with lots and lots of rooms on the inside.  

 I saw a couple of things that reminded me of Mom, including a doll named Patsy and a diorama of nativity that reminded me of the kind we had growing up.  I think Mom was maybe letting me know she was with us.

After the stores, we went to Angie’s apartment clubhouse for a party for Tatiana.  Being the introvert that I am, I hate these sorts of things, especially when I hardly know anybody.  There wasn’t much to eat there, just some crackers, punch, and cake.  I spent most of the time being a wallflower.  I heard some pretty zealous conversations among some of Angie’s fellow churchgoers.  Jonah and Sandra had a private conversation outside and, of course, Angie assumed it was about her and kept going out there to try and find out what Jonah and Sandra were talking about.

After the party, we took Melissa to Red Robin for dinner because we needed some real food.

We also toured Ft. Wayne a bit, looking at the many churches in the city 

as well as a pretty park called Lakeside Park.   

At my suggestion, we also drove to another park which turned out to be in a not-so-good part of town and instead of another beautiful park, we saw a fat sixty-or-so-year-old man with his scrotum and penis hanging out walk/peeing.  No shame at all; he was just walking forward and peeing at the same time.  Why you would want to walk in the direction you’re peeing is beyond me (really, why you want to walk at all while peeing (and in the open, no less) is baffling as well).  Melissa was shrieking in both horror and laughter.  It was funny, but unfortunately that horrifying image is seered in my brain as well.  That abruptly ended our tour of the parks of Ft. Wayne.

                After our jaunt in Ft. Wayne, Jonah wanted to go back to Angie’s.  I didn’t.  I chose to be dropped off at the hotel, and I’m so glad I did.  I read my book in peace and watched “Lost.”  Jonah and his sister apparently had it out, and I guess the tension was quite thick.  Jonah basically called her on all her crap and more or less said she had an evil spirit in her and rebuked it.  I think I had a much more peaceful evening than he or Melissa did.  She ended up staying there that night.  Angie apologized for abusing Melissa's kindness.  Jonah ended up paying quite a bit of money so that Melissa could return home with us.

                Monday was quite cloudy, the first sign of bad weather we had seen during our time in Ft. Wayne.  We picked Melissa up, said goodbye to Angie and her family and went to the airport.  We dropped the rental car off.  Ft. Wayne’s airport is rather small and the TSA agents there prove you don’t have to be disagreeable to do a good job (unlike some of the TSA agents I’ve encountered at home).  I took a tour of their rather lackluster aviation museum while we waited for our plane.

                We all flew to Dallas together and had lunch at a Mexican place in the Dallas Airport while we waited for Melissa’s plane (which was leaving before ours).  After we said goodbye to her, Jonah and I spent a while in the airport during our layover, and once again our plane was delayed (I swear I’m not flying American Airlines again if I can help it) so we were in the Dallas Airport for about four hours.  I was so tired on both flights, but couldn’t seem to fall asleep.  I mostly read.  The small airplane from Ft. Wayne to Dallas had a much friendlier crew than the one from Dallas to our home.

                We arrived to our hometown late and then had quite a trek to passenger pick-up.  It didn’t matter as Jonah's sister, Stacy, went to the wrong terminal and didn’t end up picking us up until about a half hour after we got outside.

                It was such a long trip and we were so tired.  There were some good things about it, but overall, I’d rate this trip as one of my least favorite ones I’ve ever taken. Between Mom’s ticket, our own tickets, the rental car, Melissa’s ticket, the hotel, and eating and shopping, we probably spent about $2,000 on a trip no one wanted to go on in the first place.  When Aiden graduates, I’m just sending a card.