VirusHead

What a week. Really.

On Monday and Tuesday, I was still recovering a bit from the effects of the pollen overload on my system. I went to work, but I was dragging. I was starting to look forward to my birthday, but I wasn’t sure what there would be in celebration. I got a few things in the mail – a cd, a book by Slavoj Žižek (looks like he ripped off Jean Baudrillard in this one), a voodoo toothpick holder (hee-hee), a “Gin & Titonic” ice-cube tray, a Lumpy Bumpy candy bar, some great cards… but there didn’t seem to be anything planned as an event.

I was also dreading the prospect of going through physical and psychological withdrawal. I decided that instead of quitting on my birthday – and ruining the whole day – I’d make my birthday the last day of smoking.

Wednesday was my birthday. I went in to work, a little dressed up, feeling a lot better – and my brother Michael took me out for a yummy sushi lunch. It was good to spend some time with him. I’m a number of years older, and his card said “When we were kids you were always reminding me that you were older.” Inside: “Now I’m just returning the favor. Happy Birthday.” We live pretty close, but we’ve both got demanding jobs and families – and it just seems to be difficult to get together very often. Sharing lunch with him made me really happy, and the sushi was excellent.

Back at work, I heard a little noise behind me – someone had dropped a card on my desk. It was a Peanuts card: “Birthdays remind me of what a great person once said” – and then, when you open the card, it’s that “adult” wah-wah-wah-rhaa noise. “Don’t worry. It didn’t make much sense to me either.” My whole team had signed it. That was really touching. Usually, the birthday person gets taken out to lunch or something like that, so this was extra-special.

But then – I got called to reception for a delivery. Sitting there on the front desk was the sweetest bouquet of flowers – orange lilies and yellow roses and little purple mums. The card inside said “We vetoed Phil’s idea and got you flowers.” Again – from my team (although I know who actually did it – thank you Mark). I actually got all mushy, and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so I went and washed my face. So, so, so sweet.

Our neighbors Marilynne and Ron graciously invited us to celebrate with them at their house. What a relief! Our house was a total wreck, and it was depressing. To sit in their warm inviting kitchen and then, later, in the gorgeous sunroom, was a real treat. We had a delicious dinner of chicken korma (I got the recipe) and yogurt and rice and snap peas and broccoli and kale. Ben came with us, and they included him in the conversation and made him feel at home. Their three dogs are the sweetest ever; it almost make me want to get a dog (although I’m still aching for a cat).

We brought beer and wine and a cake with us, and at the appropriate time, John and Ben stuck in the… um… symbolic number of candles, and everybody sang and I made my wish and blew out all the candles. Eventually, John went next door and tucked Ben into bed, and then we all sat around and talked of all sorts of things. Marilynne brought out some well-aged port, and we had a bit of that.

We shared a very fun and wide-ranging conversation, but one of the things we talked about was the website that Marilynne has been working on for one of the Sherlock Holmes groups. Check it out. If you love Sherlock Holmes stories, you’ll find some surprising things – and if you haven’t read any, go here to get started.

The Beacon Society is a scion society of The Baker Street Irregulars, an international organization of Sherlock Holmes enthusiasts founded in 1934 by Christopher Morley. The Irregulars (known as the BSI) meet every January in New York City for a weekend of celebration and study. The Beacon Society serves as a link to other scion societies, providing teachers with local resources to bring the magic of Sherlock Holmes to life in the classroom.

It was a week for flowers. Over the course of the week, John got me three different potted plants. There was the bouquet from work. Then – just today, the parents of one of Ben’s friends brought a big bouquet of mums for my birthday – and to celebrate my progress.

Yes… my progress. Well – I had my last cigarette at two minutes to midnight on my birthday. The last couple of days have been interesting. I’ve been watching the cravings come and go. Paul, you’re right – you can get into a meta-observational place with that.

Still – I have to admit I’ve been easily irritated, impatient, cranky. I’ve even felt a certain inclination toward violence. Oxygen helps. I’ve had some luck blowing in and out of plastic straws – and chewing on them when it gets really bad. It beats eating or chewing gum. I’ve hammered at a piece of wood, broken assorted fallen branches over my thigh, and puttered around – doing laundry, cleaning up, keeping busy, keeping moving. I’ve also been trying to comfort myself. I have the softest, most cuddly socks on.

There have been some cosmic sparkles here and there that have kept me focused, too.

So far, so good.

Photo Challenge

The beautiful Beverly has tagged me for a photo challenge. Here are the rules:

1. Open the 4th photo folder of your computer.
2. Choose the 4th photo of that folder & publish it on your blog.
3. Explain the photo.
4. Challenge 4 bloggers to do the same.

And now the 4th pic in my 4th album ~ DRUM ROLL PLEASE . . .

Steve and Pat

This photograph captures something essential about (John’s older brother) Steve and Pat, and looking at this really makes me miss them. It was taken a couple three years ago (as they say here in Georgia) when most of John’s side of the family met for a few days of fun and sun at a beach house at the Alabama Gulf Shores. We all had a really fun time, despite my trying to turn them on to Lewis Black (hee hee).

Don’t you just get a smiling feeling inside looking at their faces?

I play, but I don’t vector anymore. So – hey, 3 out of 4 ain’t bad. Don’t let that stop you! If you’d like to play, please comment with your post link. I’d love to see some photos, I just don’t want to pressure ya!

I received another of these heartbreaking letters from a former Jehovah’s Witness today. This one has a couple of themes that appear in so many of the letters that I get that I thought it was worth posting once again. A few of the details have been altered to protect the privacy of the writer.

Hi. I left the “truth” in 19xx. I was baptized, but eventually got out of an abusive relationship and a religion that told me that I needed to stay with my husband because “by my good example his soul might be saved”. Anyway, I left and was disfellowshipped. The problem was my sister stayed in the religion. She wrote to me and told me she could not be my sister any more because I was now of the evil slave class. This went on for years, finally ending in some interaction when our mother died, grew and greatly improved when our father passed also. That went on and we were actually pretty close again. In the meantime I explored many different faiths, especially Eastern, and then I discovered Wicca. I felt at home there, and in the late 19xx’s I dedicated myself to the Goddess. My sister was aware of this and it had not been a problem. Our other sister passed away recently after a period of illness where my sister and I comforted each other, but I did notice a difference in her and so did our brother (who does not practice any religion). Well, today before I left to drive back home my JW sister tells me we cannot have a relationship anymore because having a relationship with me may imperil her soul and relationship with Jehovah. I could not believe she was doing this to me again. I am in shock. I guess we were getting too close and the elders had to step in. I feel so wounded and hurt. My brother is stunned. I feel like my heart is broken again. What religion would have her hit me with this right after the funeral? I don’t understand, how she can do this? I remember times when we were both JW’s and she was going through a really bad time. I kept the details to myself. I would not have dreamed of telling the elders. I know there is nothing anyone can do about this I just needed to talk about it. Thanks for listening.

Dear X -

My heart flies out to you, and I am so very sorry. Try to forgive your sister (to the limit of your ability) – you know why she believes as she does. It’s anti-agapic and false to the spirit of love, but as you know the governing body of the Watchtower Society keeps a tight leash. All you can really do is to follow your own path, grieve her choice and try to let it go. I know, it seems pretty impossible.

Don’t close the door entirely unless you feel you have to for your own sanity. You could, if you are strong enough in yourself, send some sort of message of love: “You are my sister and I will always love you, no matter what your religious decisions might be. I am always here for you if you need me.” You never know what may happen in the future, and for her to know that you are there for her (even when she has been very foolish) may make a difference in ways that may help you both over the years.

For now, though, it’s very hard. What is especially hard – and I’ve experienced this too – is when you’ve been a true friend to someone you love and it’s feels like everything you did means nothing, doesn’t count at all. But it does. Love is ever wasted!

It does help a little, I think, to write about it – and to know that there are others who “get it.”

Since you are dedicated to the Goddess, you have that imagery of the divine to access. You can draw on your connection to the energies of the Goddess to help you. Let Her enfold you with the comfort and love that is being withheld by your sister. Get concrete – find words and images that ease your heart. Add an item or two to your alter for your sister’s healing. You know she must be hurting, too. Intend healing and strength for both of you, and She will help you. Gather with your sisters and tell them your story – you can tap a deep reservoir of insight and support from them.

I’m reading a book that I like a lot. Maybe it would be good for you, too? It’s called The Red Book, by Sera Beak – a trained comparative religionist with a wonderful sense of humor. It is intended for young women, but I’m now (ahem) a slightly older woman and I’m finding that the intended audience is not limiting at all – I think that even a lot of men would find it valuable. It’s not so much that there’s anything “new” in it for me, but it’s functioning as a way to connect the dots in a slightly more solid – and fun – way. I wouldn’t normally recommend a book, but I have to say that if I were to write a book for others on spirituality, it would look an awfully lot like this one, and I’m happy to have discovered it.

I know you said there isn’t anything anyone can do, and that’s true. I wish I could change this reality for you and for everyone that suffers because of this kind of cruelty, but of course I can’t and neither can anyone else.

All you can change about this, ultimately, is how you view it, how you frame it, how you navigate through that experience, and how you integrate that experience into yourself. Sometimes spiritual truths are a real kick in the teeth.

That’s all I can offer to you. I wish there were more – maybe some readers of the blog will have other suggestions.

It was truly a lovely wedding.

Aletta looked radiant, Matt was clearly nervous but very happy.

Everything went smoothly, everyone had a great time.

It brought tears to my eyes to look around the room and to see so many people that I love.

I am a bit sentimental, I’ll admit. Seeing the pride and joy on my Uncle Ronnie’s face as he escorted Aletta down the aisle filled me with so much gratitude and love I almost couldn’t stand it.

I felt the same way when I saw my Aunt Ute (in a flowing black suit) running down the meadow to make sure that all the children were included in photos…

Micaela, my other cousin, was really on top of her game. Married life, children, and a fulfilling job agree with her, and have transformed her – she is beautiful, confident, a goddess. Really.

My favorite part of the ceremony was when the married women had a chance to come up and whisper a piece of advice or some other comment into Aletta’s ear. Yes, you know I wasn’t sitting there saying nothing, right? So I whispered, “Remember how much you respect him today. Civility goes a long way. Please and thank you.”

What was even better, in a way, is when the officiant (a very nice woman) said, “We don’t want be discriminatory, so the married men are now welcome to step up to offer a word to Matt.” I somehow think that wasn’t planned. One guy said something very urgently, then stepped back and did that thing where he points to his own eyes and then points to Matt’s eyes. There was good-natured laughter. The room was full of love. The energy of the whole ceremony was terrific.

We were out there on a covered deck, looking out on a meadow worthy of a 19th-century pastoral poet. It was a beautiful day, shining, with a refreshing breeze. Aletta and Matt were beaming, and there were moments of reflection and humor that drew us all in as a community. We really felt that we were there to witness to their bond and to be there to safeguard and help them always.

The reception was fun. I really hit it off with Matt’s aunt Pam, who turns out to be just a couple of years older than me (yikes), a nurse in Durham. We ended up dancing together a bit (how do women in their forties get to dance otherwise, when husbands are not in attendance?). I really like her a lot and we have much in common. Besides, she has those Susan Sarandon eyes that I always love, and a sense of humor that matches mine… Wish I’d gotten a pic of her! We initiated a circle-dance of women around Matt – very tribal and fun.

My brother Roy and Patty danced at almost a professional level, as always, although I couldn’t get the DJ to play the Kinks’ “Come Dancing” – which was always his fave.

I thoroughly enjoyed myself, and had lots of great conversation, reacquainting myself with several people and also meeting several new people, including a couple of people that I had heard much about but had never had the pleasure to have met before. Everyone was friendly and open. Their company was a balm to my soul.

The only thing I regret was that I didn’t think to try to get a photograph of my extended family there. Roy and I didn’t make it into the group photos, but in my experience those aren’t the ones you look at anyway. I had a camera, and I just didn’t think of trying to get Roy and Patty and me and Aletta and Matt and Micaela and Michael and Katy and Alex and Ron and Ute all into a photo.

Both Aletta’s wedding and Micaela’s wedding were wonderful, but I have to admit that I enjoyed this one more. I was more relaxed (and it probably didn’t hurt that I wasn’t pregnant!).

I am so proud of my dear cousins. I am so proud of you, dear women of my heart.

Thank you, thank you to the whole clan. You rock, and I love you.

(More photos)

I was just entering my room at the Stagecoach Inn in Groton when my cousin Micaela almost ran into me. She didn’t recognize me immediately, but she did a double-take and we did the girl huggy thing in the hall. She looks terrific. The last time I saw her was at her wedding, when I was pregnant with Ben. Micaela, Aletta and I are the three female Ph.D.s in the family. I couldn’t be more proud of my two cousins – they are intelligent, grounded, wonderful women and I unabashedly adore them.

Everyone was crowded into her parents’ room (my Uncle Ronnie and Aunt Ute). I was introduced to everyone. It looked like they were pretty well blasted (hee hee) but all they had left was some white wine. After a few minutes, Uncle Ronnie went downstairs with me. There was a little bar next to the restaurant where a band was playing, and he treated me to a beer.

We ran into one of his best friends there. I’m not sure how he feels about being mentioned by name, so I won’t. He got his Ph.D. in music structure and theory the year before I finished my own diss, and was the flautist at the wedding the next day. His wife was charming and fun, and I enjoyed talking with her about public school nutrition (she’s in charge of that where she is – it seems to be a lot worse in Georgia than there) and a range of other topics.

When we got back upstairs, I passed Micaela in the hall again – she was headed to bed. Her wonderful hubby Michael and her two truly adorable children were already fast asleep. She told us that the room was closed up and everyone had gone to bed.

I had a very good night’s sleep and a leisurely morning talking with everyone in the lobby and on the porch. I managed to get some coffee too (always a good thing) but passed on the sticky danish selection.

Problem! The flowers were supposed to arrive at noon, but they had a wedding rehearsal at 12:30 and then the wedding at 2:30. A tight schedule… a little too tight. So I changed back into work wear, and headed over to Gibbett Hill.

The kids were really funny to watch. Three of them were standing at the edge of the meadow. In the next meadow over there were some cows, or cattle, or bulls. I’m not sure – they were brown and kind of far away. The kids were counting to three and screaming “MOOO” at them.

The centerpieces were a little complicated to put together. There was a crystal vase, which was layered at the bottom with clear and red stones. Then we’d fill the vase almost to the top with water, carefully drop in a red orchid with a fishing weight on it, and try to bury the weight under the stones a bit. Then we’d adjust the water as necessary and put a round floating candle on the top. There were twelve of these to be done. I thought we did a good job (I had help from a few other women).

Then there were extra flowers, so I scattered a few petals around each centerpiece. That’s when Aletta found me and mentioned that they didn’t have anything planned for the top of the cake (Matt prefers pie anyway…. smile). She asked me if I would arrange some of the flower petals on the top of the cake. Here’s how it turned out.

When I finished that, I saw that there was a box of little blue candle holders open. Hmmm. A lot of unopened boxes… After some running around to find the wedding planner, I was able to find out that they were candles for the table of placecards. I pretty much destroyed my nails getting the stickers off the bottom of the candles, but I got some help and finally Aletta said not to bother with that.

Here’s mine!

The names for each of the tables were funny and clever, including for example a table Google and a table Infinity. I was seated at table -40, with my brother Roy, and Patty, and… but I’ll save that for later.

When one woman started making sure each candle and card were spaced evenly, I took it as my cue to get changed. I didn’t have much time. I dashed out to the car and set off the alarm somehow. That was charming, especially when I couldn’t get it to turn off right away.

I got changed, and gave Roy a call on my cellphone to see if he was getting close to arrival. “We’re already here,” he said, “just coming into the parking lot.” Out of the corner of my eye I saw a large vehicle entering the lot and I started waving. Right – they were already parked. I never did find out who was in the truck – I hope he thought I was an official greeter or something (ha).