Ben and the Christmas Spirit

Today, while delivering my mail route, Ellen, a customer of mine, walked up to me from her house about 1/2 block away. She was somber, and I immediately knew she wanted to tell me something very important. "Rich" she said, "I need to tell you that we had to put Ben down this morning". I was in shock. Bennet is their 8 year old black Lab, a hulking, robust dog with a personality as big as Seattle. She explained that he had started having seizures early in the morning, and by the time they got him to the vet, the seizures were lasting up to 10 minutes. The vet said the convulsions were destroying his body, and that they should say good bye to their family member. I gave Ellen a hug and we both stood on the corner crying at the loss of such a gregarious life being terminated so suddenly. I asked her how her husband, Tom, was doing. She said he was completely lost. Ben and Tom always travelled together on foot thoughout Magnolia, and I immediately felt a great wash of compassion and empathy for Tom.

I felt it was very important to go buy a sympathy card to send to the family....Tom, Ellen, and their daughter, Elli, and because my route is close to a Bartell's Drug Store, I made a bee-line to the store. Looking through sympathy cards I began to get irritated because most were too wordy, or indicated the relationship, ie: "For the Loss of your Mother", and then after looking at a dozen or more, I found the perfect card. Simply worded, concise of meaning, compassionate and hopeful. But I was feeling pressured because of the time I had already spent in the store, and needed to quickly get back to finishing my route.

There were three cashiers helping people...#1 had 6 people, # 2 had just called for manager's assistance, so I chose the third line. Only two people were in front of me...a tall, 40-ish clean-cut man, who the cashier was helping, and an Army Colonel from nearby Fort Lawton, dressed in her Army camos.

As the man's order was being bagged, he looked to his left at the Colonel, and turned back to the cashier and said "And I'm paying for her purchases also."

The comment caught the rest of us off guard. The Colonel immediately said to him, "Oh, no, thank you, but no." The man pressed..."Yes, I am paying for her items". The Colonel, unflustered stood her ground. "No, that's very kind, but No, I'm paying for them". A third time, the man calmly said, "Yes, I will be paying for those items" and again, was answered with "No, thank you, I'll pay for them".

Something truly powerful was happening in front of me, and the air was thick with grace, and tension, and tenderness. The cashier was frozen like a statue, not wanting to butt-in, or comment, or mediate.

I was still overwhelmed by the emotion of a family loosing their best friend, and tears welled up in my eyes.

I turned to the Officer, put my hands on her shoulders, and said" Yes, he IS going to pay for your items, and if he doesn't, then I will!" It still was not enough...the Colonel started to balk again. I continued... "Sometimes the toughest thing in the world is to just do nothing and say thank you. Today, you get to do nothing and say thank you."

She softened, nodded her head, and the cashier begain to ring up her items. The short, 20 seconds lasted an eternity. The cashier told the man the amount, he paid, and then asked, "Are we finished?" The cashier nodded yes, he turned to the Officer and said "Thank You for serving". The Colonel reached out and embraced him, he smiled, turned, and left the building.

The Colonel then turned and hugged me as well, and I stepped back and saluted her. She gathered her bags, thanked the cashier, and also left.

It was done. The spirit of Christmas had unfolded in a short 3 minutes of dialogue, an unexpected gift given, with the observers present filled with awe and appreciation for selflessness. As I left the store, I could hear all the cashiers and customers talking about what had just happened. Store of wonder, store of might.

I will truly miss Ben. But I will always have that drug store conversation and it's sense of wonder and rightness embedded in my heart and mind.

Time flys, almost as beautifully as birds...

How wonderful is growing old? For my 60th birthday party in November of 2009, I was able to try bellydancing in public at my birthday party. It was a BLAST, and a photo taken at the end of the party, of me beaming, with turban still on head, documents the joy that accompanied that day. The following March, a week after my dear Mother-In-Law passed away, I was able to bellydance with my friends at her retirement center as a tribute to her life. So sad, so much fun. So bittersweet. That woman's spirit was continually dancing.

But at that point, I had become energized to be a BELLYDANCER. At the end of the month, my class danced at Serpent's Muse, Cues & Tatoos, and the video tape shows my rawness, my lack of experience, but also, my unadulterated joy of dance. An unexpected trip in May to Hamilton, Ontario, Canada, to dance with Valizan at his Sheikh! Shake! Sheikh! for the weekend, confirmed my inexperience, but also fueled my passion for bellydance to a greater degree. And what amazing, new, friends!

I had no idea that classes would include so many public performances: Tribal Regale at the Mirkwood Cafe the following June, Ucanto's amazing sets at MedFest in July, a sweet trio with Robyn Beamer and Leslie German at Kalia Restaurant on the 25th of July. All that followed by an outdoor performance for Totally Tribal Hafla on September 18th, to include my first bellydance solo. Weird. But wonderful.

This photo above is from Bellies for Breasts, a benefit for the Susan G Komen for the Cure, held at Vino Bella in Snoqualmie, October 25th. My first duet with Nancy Brown, my instructor...where I litteraly hit the floor! It was also the first time I danced without a turban (at Nancy's request) which made for a strange new look. But it was criminally fun. Two days ago, my class danced at the Hafla al-Medeena in Woodenville, and our class is scheduled to perform at the monthly Alauda in West Seattle on the 21st of December. Excited? Do birds fly?

So, did I think dancing publically would be part of my foray into bellydancing? Not at first. But now the answer is an undeniable YES! And this is my wonderful reason:

A new student came up to me after a Level 1 class and told me how excited she had been seeing us dance at Kalia's Restaurant. She knew then she wanted to be part of our class. That was the payoff. Sharing the joy of dance with those looking to find it. Guess that means as long as I have my breath, I will dance!

So, dance, birdies. Dance and take wing!

Just a Walk in the Park

So here's the deal - I haven't been at work since April 6th of 2007 because of a shoulder injury, and I think I've forgotten how to carry the mail. For a reminder, I downloaded a picture of myself walking along a sidewalk (courtesy of the new Simpson's movie Simpsonizer). I must admit a fair likeness.
Now I just log on and remind myself of what I look like in motion, and soon I'll be ready to start carrying mail again come this August.
Thanks, Matt for your help!

(NOTE: the Simpsonizer is no longer online....thus the JPG of me just standing, looking goofy. But you get the idea)

Cat Space

Why can't cats be more like dogs? Not the drooly, smelly, goofusy part of dogs. I mean, why can't cats be more loyal, more willing, more reliable? It's not that the cat in our house isn't lovable - its just that he messes with people just because he can. This rogue is smart, conniving, and manipulative. I'm amazed that the people who live in this house have allowed his treachery to be rewarded by daily feeding and pampering with soft pillows and fluffy blankets. Surely, if he had to fend for himself by catching rats and birds to survive, he would be more appreciative of the fine accomodations in the house. Rather, he assumes that the fabric attached to any piece of furniture was designed only to help him obtain sharper claws. This is also his automatic door opening device. After a few minutes of shredding the arm of the sofa, he runs for the door, because, after all, bad cats must be put outside. Now all our funiture bears the marks of his desire to go outside. Once liberated from from the claustrophobic domicile, he immediatedly runs to the back porch, where he begins shredding the sliding door screen, with one sad intention. He wants back inside.
And regretably, once he is allowed back in, the insideous procedure begins all over again. I shave the hair on my scalp because it prevents me the pain of pulling it out by the roots. How much is the cat like each one of us, needing to be constantly reaffirmed and provided for? And obviously, in charge.

Hair today, gone nosorrow.

Whaddia think? Head of hair, clean face? Bald head, no beard? Or the latest - bald with a goatee?
You vote.

Autumn Leaves Must Fall

Harrison and I just returned from visiting my family in Southern California. My older brother Ken suprised my mom and younger brother Larry by driving up with Joanne for Sunday and Monday. It was great having the three of us boys together, although it may have been overload for my dad. He seemed to tolerate us remarkable well. But it was pretty obvious that we were tiring him out.
Its tough watching a person's body fail. And then there's the indignation of not having complete control of muscles and bodily functions. After a while it can really start to mess with your self-perception. I wish I could just wave a hand and make him completely whole.
As I walked down the hallway on our last day, I thought, "That might be the last time I ever see my dad again." Instantly I was overwhelmed with emotion, and found it difficult to talk.
Is it not amazing that for my plane trip back to Seattle, I would be seated next to a young woman who was returning to Washington after visiting her dying father? She had such a steady countenance, and a wonderful, peaceful sense of purpose. We talked for two straight hours as kindred spirits walking similar paths.
Dealing with the loss of a parent is tough. Not as tough as the loss of a child. And much tougher than the loss of a job. But dealing with the loss is the point. I am so thankful for those around me who will help me walk through the dark time, and be there to remind me the sun will shine again.
Time to go smell the roses of life.

To sleep, perchance to dream

CAUTION: If you ever have difficulty falling asleep, DO NOT read any further. Please close your browser now, and do not return to this page.

Now that I've dispensed with the necessary legal warning, I can tell you about the young man who sleeps as he NEEDS to. Not necessarily WHEN he wants to. And certainly not WHERE he wants to (or even where his parents think he should.) He simply sits down, closes his eyes, and presto-change-o, he is out!

Yes, this young, growing tribute to adulthood runs at 140 per cent for twelve to eighteen hours at a time, and then, with little warning, becomes frozen to whatever surface on which he finds himself. It may be a chair, a sofa, or the floor - it doesn't really matter. We know he is still alive because we can hear him. Yes we can. We can hear him very, very well. We can even hear him in other rooms of our house.

And not just with sonorous tones. He will suprise us with groanings and utterings of the most peculiar kind. For example, in the above pictured position, he managed to say very clearly (and quite loudly) the word ELEPHANT. Just elephant. No introduction. No modifing words to help us understand context. Just elephant. One can only hope in his dream he is in charge and maybe riding the gigantic beast and not being chased by or being nearly crushed by its mass.

And although he may be humorous at times, we have learned that its best not to wake him, to simply let his need for rest and rejuvination find closure to match the state of his eyes.

I'm thinking he'll make a great father, especially when the baby is crying in the middle of the night and it's his turn to get up and change the diaper?

Or is it possible that I'm feeling envious of this deep sleeper, and in need of a few more hours of repose myself?

Heavens to Murgatroid

Does anyone care that China seems to be buying up trillions of dollars of American debt? Does it matter that someday soon the United States will be owned by Bejing? Why should we care about the future of Social Security or Medicare when the future of our nation appears to be headed the same direction? And what does all this have to do with the price of rice in China?

Simply put, my twenty-one-year-old daughter's reaction to the above questions. That's what. Here I was, waxing morose and doing the best Chicken Little imitation I could, when she simply answered all my questions with "That's why it's so good that we have a loving family and good friends".

I forget so easily that Love bears all things.

Children are our future

Harrison, Lelia, Melissa, Elizabeth

My oldest daughter Elizabeth and my son Harrison returned this week from twelve days in South America where they enjoyed winter snowboarding and exploring in Chile. They saved their own money, and planned their own trip, and I tip my hat to the pair. My middle daughter Melissa just left to return home to Salem, Oregon. She had been visiting us in Seattle, taking a break from her empty rental house (roommates will be moving back in several weeks). It's good she has a great grasp of dealing with less than ideal situations. My youngest daughter, Lelia, has been popping in and out all weekend - I think she prefers to be around people other than her parents (go figure). Nineteen going on totally independent.

On the other end of the spectrum, is Gramma Jane. My wife's mom has become a part of our household while waiting for her apartment in a new Senior community to be finished. Her move-in date is the 22nd of August. I know she will only be six or seven minutes away, but I'm beginning to realize how much I'll miss having her here in our home.

Together we watched an eighty's television movie on TNT called The Shadow Knows, which was based on an early radio show. I was trying to figure out the time frame in which the movie was supposed to be set by looking at the cars. When I made the comment to her that it looked like the movie was supposed to be in the late thirtys and early fortys, she said, "No, it wasn't - I know what people wore during the late thirtys, and those clothes are older than that!"

Yep, I have great hope in the future, but somehow I've learned that confidence comes from the past.

The alternative to life

It isn't enough that the AARP hounds you to join the masses of the aged in their organization once you pass fifty. They must be driven by some sense of civic duty to send your name and address to any group that deals with the waning years of life.

Today I received this encouraging note from the Neptune Society:
"Dear Richard,
For a variety of reasons, more and more people are choosing cremation over traditional funeral arrangements."

I'll admit I'm not as open-minded and adventurous as my wife, but for some reason, every part of my innards are screaming I'M NOT READY FOR THIS ! As I read through their literature, I become irratated and uneasy. I'm not too complex a person - yet, how can I respond to their persuasion that "cremation is simple"? And, although my name is Rich, I'm anything but wealthy. Still, their claim that "cremation is economical" sounds demeaning and repugnant. But the worst part of their info - that "cremation is dignified", makes me want to never again be dignified so long as my body is warm.

Doesn't anyone know I'm still working on my mid-life crises? How can I possibly start addressing my end-of-life issues? I certainly like to make lists and carefully plan events, but even I'm not anal-retentive enough to wrap up all my "loose ends" quite yet.

And then, despite the fact that all this anxiety about the future has made me sick to my stomach, I notice the fine print at the end of the letter. Maybe these Neptune people are not as pushy as I thought for, in the gutter of their missive, is this delightful disclaimer:

"Please accept our apologies if this letter has reached you at a time of serious illness or death in your family."