First-World Problem

I kind of like the new (or at least new-to-me) expression, "I guess that's kind of a First-World problem"; I'm just having a tough time weaving it into conversations without seeming unsympathetic.  

Karma

Karma isn't something that one waits around to receive at some future point, as a repayment of good that one does today. 

Karma is the intrinsic reward one derives for doing the right thing, without any expectation of repayment.  

Thoughts on Approaching Middle-Age

The good news is that 'Sixty is the new Forty'.  

The bad news is that—with all the hormones and other stuff making their way in our water supply, affecting our bodily functions—middle-age now begins at thirty-nine.  

A Dream of Maddie

Dear Maddie,

There really isn't much to the dream I had the other morning, but what there is, I want to share with you.  I know you don't like the mushy stuff, so I'm sending this to you in a form that you can't access until after the weekend, when I'm not standing right there.  

You, Mom and I were in the master bedroom at Mom’s house, at the corner of the bed.  I was holding you in my arms—not up against my chest, but holding you out a little bit, so I could see your face—and Mom was standing next to me.  You were about the age you were in this picture, maybe a little younger – but at the same time, you were also the age you are now. 

I was telling Mom how strange it seemed that even though you are almost sixteen, I’m seeing you as a baby, and I can hold you in my arms like this.  I asked her if she saw you the same way, or as you are today.  She didn't answer, but just looked at you with love.  I couldn't take my eyes off of you, for risk that the moment would end; afraid that if I looked away, you’d be all grown up.  In my dream I looked in your eyes and told you that I love you more than I ever knew I could love anybody. You just looked back at me and smiled with that sweet smile you had when you were a baby – and that you still have. 

That was about the time I woke up.  I noticed there were tears in my eyes – not big weepy tears, but soft, light tears of happiness; happiness that baby Maddie visited for that moment in my dream; and that Mom and I have been blessed all these years with you in our lives. 

What I told you in my dreams is what I hold in my heart.  You are an amazing, beautiful young woman; a wonderful human being.  As much as Mom and I would love to take some of the credit for that reality, you have always been very much your own person - creature in charge of her own journey; our role has just been to not get in the way as your beautiful potential becomes reality. 

I do love you, and treasure every moment we share – when we’re happy with one another, and at those times when you're just trying to tolerate my proximity.  I knew I would love being a Dad; but thanks to you, it is much better than I ever could have imagined.  The most treasured birthday present I could hope to receive, I get from you every day.  

Love,

Dad

Alzheimers

This morning at the Hallmark store an older couple walked toward me as I was making my choice.  The woman looked at me with an incredible intensity, and said, “Kiss me!” 

Her husband redirected her toward the shelves with the cards, and apologized.  He said, “That’s the Alzheimer’s talking.  Nothing good about that at all”.  He was obviously embarrassed that his wife would say this to a total stranger, but I assured him that I understood, and that he didn’t need to worry. 

As I continued looking for the cards I needed, I kept an eye on the couple.  He continued guiding her from card to card,   She clearly wasn’t going to contribute meaningfully to the selection, but this man wanted to share that part of the Christmas season with the woman with whom he had spent his life, for as long as he can. As I left, I stopped to touch the man on the shoulder, and just thanked him. 

Throughout the day, the memory of this couple has stayed with me.  I wonder about the life they had together – and the love they must have shared; the legacy of love that endures enough that he continues to carry her through this final stage.  I wondered about the children they may have nurtured and raised together – and perhaps the grandchildren they came to know and love. 

As we rear our children, each year—sometimes each week—brings evidence of their continuing development from total dependence to full independence and an existence as our fellow adults.  There are so many opportunities for joy and recognition as this evolves. 

How different it is to care for one whose light is slowly fading before your eyes.  The person who once made us laugh, cry, scream – who filled our heart with all the range of emotions we have the capacity to feel; slowly losing touch with the outside world, then even their interior.  There is no anticipation of any improvement – except for those who look forward to a better existence after we shuffle off our mortal coil. 

I’ll never know this man, but I admire him – as I admire other people I know—including some very close to me—who surrender so much to care for loved ones who can no longer care for themselves.  A Supreme Court justice once responded to a question about obscenity by saying that he couldn’t define it, but ‘I know it when I see it.’  I don’t know that I could offer a reliable definition of love, but I too know it when I see it.  

Wild Movie

There is a concern in some circles that the popularity of the book and movie Wild will draw huge crowds of ill-prepared novice hikers to the Pacific Crest Trail and other wilderness trails, spoiling the solitude for those who've been there all along – similar to the hordes of novice fly fishermen who descended upon Montana rivers a few years ago (‘A Tourist Runs Through It’ – as the locals say). 

I don’t think this should be a long-term concern.  There’s lots of room in our western wilderness – and most people won’t venture more than a couple miles from the trailhead anyway.  Enthusiasm will likely draw people for a while who've rarely experienced wilderness; many will fall in love with it, and some will join the efforts to preserve it.  Most will then go back to their lives, enriched for the experience.  And with those few for whom this is truly life changing, they will be welcome to integrate this into their lives and healing processes.  Aside from a handful of grumpy purists, I can’t imagine anybody begrudging that of anybody.    

If you like this, Forward ...

The easiest way to tell whether a FB post is funny enough, intriguing enough, poignant enough, or otherwise motivating for people to forward is whether or not they forward it – without being told to. There's plenty of traffic on Facebook without people being forwarding crap in response to some cloying demand.   

Forward this if you agree … ;)  Ninety percent of the people who read this won't.  Gawd!  I wish it were 100%.