The dog later beat a quick entrance into the Greathouse foyer and the ongoing dance for the wedding taking place there. The place was quite busy. Later, when we got home dad took a fall coming into the house and knocked over the lamp and plant and was upset/frustrated and uncomprehending as to how it happened (he had two martinis over the dinner).
Monday, September 30, 2013
22 May 2010: - Flyers, Farmhouse, Gail, asparagus, a Fall ...
The Flyers are up 3-1 over the Montreal Canadiens with an impressive 3-0 win, Michael Leighton's third shutout in this Eastern Final series (next round for the Stanley Cup). We had dinner at the Farmhouse (expensive @ over $260 w/tip for the French waiter - 8 years w/the restaurant - Bruno from Normandy, France) at the Loch Nairn Golf Course w/Gail Emerson, who looks older and appeared a little inebriated. She brought asparagus in her F250 Ford truck, a monster, with her Trixie-look-a-like Maggie in it.
The dog later beat a quick entrance into the Greathouse foyer and the ongoing dance for the wedding taking place there. The place was quite busy. Later, when we got home dad took a fall coming into the house and knocked over the lamp and plant and was upset/frustrated and uncomprehending as to how it happened (he had two martinis over the dinner).
The dog later beat a quick entrance into the Greathouse foyer and the ongoing dance for the wedding taking place there. The place was quite busy. Later, when we got home dad took a fall coming into the house and knocked over the lamp and plant and was upset/frustrated and uncomprehending as to how it happened (he had two martinis over the dinner).
Labels:
dog,
F-250,
Farmhouse,
Flyers,
Ford,
Gail,
golf course,
Loch Nairn,
Maggie,
truck
19 July 2010: Monday, Dynamic, bathtub chair,
May 2010: Eleanor & Ernie Hyde of 4538 Pickwick Drive
Eleanor Hyde was in such pain and felt hopeless but knew that she had to get out of bed and get up and get moving to survive. She had to remove the thought of just laying there and making it worse. She and her husband, Ernie, had moved to their home at 4538 Pickwick Drive in Limestone Gardens in 1961, two years before our arrival in the already-converted home, into a doctor's office that is, of Dr. Stanley Verbit at 4546 Pickwick Drive. She would become my dad's patient around 1965 - her memory is impeccable - and learn from him in 1984 that she had breast cancer. She underwent chemotherapy for a year and was told she needed more treatment, but she'd had enough and stopped, against doctor's orders, the drugs. It appeared to be a death sentence but Eleanor has triumphed and continued to teach and care for her ailing husband to this day. She loves reading to her 5-year-old grandson, the child of their only child, a daughter.
30 September 2013: Monday, Daily Musings & Events In The Day
This will be note taking and an observing register of events during the days, begun one week from the day that I packed, with the able assistance of Nick and Joey, my belongings from 605 Pershing Drive in North Augusta to begin the trek, with a stopover in Johns Creek at the home of my brother, to my childhood home another Drive, one Pickwick in the development of Limestone Gardens, toward the ultimate care of my parents. It began this morning with a chase of Dancer when I met, fortuitously, our neighbor two doors down:
- Terri, gardener, middle aged retiree, who lives a few doors down on Nicholby, a Delawarean with her accent, a U of D grad who is married to a New Yorker, and has lived in her home for 16 years and feeds two rabbits in her yard. Met her in pursuit of Dancer who'd run away from me before getting in the back door for the rabbit chase and that clarion bark of hers. She told me, wisely, that the female dogs stay close and the males tend to pursue further. I continued to speak with her and within a few minutes, Dancer returned and came right up to me and I took her collar in my hand. Prescient of Terri (sic).
I'd thought that Horizon would arrive between noon and 4 p.m. (they would call first) and then mom told me that she'd received a call from them and that an associate would arrive and was traveling from Hockessin as we spoke. He arrived long before noon.
- Tim Kelly, Horizon plumber extraordinaire with a mild, engaging, thoroughly winning
personality came and quickly diagnosed and fixed the problem of the worn spicket in the backyard. He put the hose on without difficulty and later, so did I. I was shamefaced but he made no comment at my inability to correct the problem. Well, it would have been a big job to replace (e.g., turn water off, drain system, take off spicket - which had been soldered on, he said -- and either turn it a few degrees upward to get a better angle on it or replace, regardless, would have been a big job for a small item). He had to charge for a visit (a check I wrote, a first for me, in the wrong order -- #499 instead of the next one #498 -- for $49.50. Dad found the mistake and corrected for it in the register, he picks up the little things as his world is circumscribed my the minutiae of existence, it works for him and I am in now way going to challenge, must go with the flow). I was thoroughly delighted with the professional treatment of Tim and called to praise him and then sent an e-mail to the Horizon Plumbing web site.
- Watering the lawn now, in 20-minute increments (Dad is concerned about water usage so I cut the time from 30 to 20 and intoned a rhyme for toilet usage. He thought it appropriate and associated with it having shared a similar phrase to me:)If it's yellow, let it mellow;If it's brown, flush it down.
- I phoned Linda Lucero from UUMSC, who has invited me to a literary light dinner at her home, located near St. Mark's HS, and I phoned her. She called back, told me she's sent an e-mail and we determined that it was incorrect (missing the "1") and she resent it so I could get her e-mail. (Later she accepted my FB friend request, quickly, and commented that she is rarely on the social media behemoth ... I saw bday wishes from last April on her page from a co-friend, Steve Mortensen.)
- Doug has called mom on her cell, it rang as I looked at her and she answered it. He saved Norma V. from calamity by helping clean up for her second adopted dog, Jurgen, who had an episode of diarrhea and dirtied up her apartment. Dad went over immediately with pale and cleaner to help. Next day she was a lot better. Doug "moves immediately", said Dad, and he gets the job done.
He will be arriving by plane in late October and asked that I pick him up (I'm too busy, I replied, amusingly. Dad might accompany me if he decides not to attend Grand Rounds-- "I get brownie points or CME units. You need 40 points every 2 years to get your license renewed", he said.)
- Dad is watching (12:34 p.m.) Cedric the Entertainer as the new host (not as liked as Meredith Viera by my parents) of the Who Wants To Be A Millionaire. The first question asks about midgets who protested their lack of inclusion in a movie. The correct choice was Snow White and The Huntsman (The 7 dwarves are: Sneezy, Sleepy, Happy, Grumpy, Dopey, Bashful, and Doc). The contestant has answered all the initial questions correct, one being for the Taj Mahal, a place my father has visited and which he mentioned. The question was about minarets over this World History site.
- The contestant, who was a classical composer - a young, toothsome woman --, missed the $100,000 question about a fly with a "cheap dinner" name. It turned out to be "A" or "reissa roni". The "San Francisco treat" can be found in this 1962 TV commercial on YouTube, of course.
- Joined Angie's List for a yearly membership on the preferred bundle of services. With a promo code reducing the regular $9.99/year, I paid $5.99 for the year. It looks to be a good bargain as each service is often accompanied by a coupon offer for their service.
- The sounds unmistakable coming from the 2nd floor hallway as I type on the computer. It is my mom moving with effort and a good deal of pain with her walker, the oxygen line trailing behind her. This is her 3rd, count'em, THIRD walk today. She is really walking the walk today and it's a wonderful accomplishment on her part.
- Returned to the walking trail (total of 1.74 miles when I got back to the car and turned off -- workout complete -- "YOU DID IT!" -- digifit) off Millcreek Road (saw a white-tailed deer in the woods but only one walking couple, two women, at the end of our trek) across from Delcastle Golf (driving range) & recreation (softball and soccer fields) center with Dancer and went about a mile up the trail and followed the shallow but rock-strewn Mill Creek (took several photos from the bridge) which she enjoyed wading and drinking for a stretch. Got a call from mom on her cell and she asked where I was and that dad was waiting to head to Bachetti's for meals and Virginia baked ham (3/4 lb.) and more Pepperidge farm 7-grain bread, which "we go through quickly". Told her 20 minutes but got back sooner. Tied Dancer in the back and brought her water and then we left. Came back using the path behind the mall with all its disposal units to make a cleaner approach to entry onto a remarkably quiet Limestone Road. Dad mentioned Crossroads and possibly having a dessert there (he has no appetite for entrees but the urge left quickly by the time we returned home to put away the food items). Introduced myself to Kathy at the checkout, who knows my dad so well. He knows most everyone at Bachetti's.
- Just got a text from Jamie O'Hara, who had promised to get in touch with a friend who may have a line on a caregiver job. The contact is Jim Jr. at 302-442-4260. He is a man of his word, which I texted right back to him with "Thx". Called and left a message with this Caregivers' business.
- Dad walks the hallway with mom's prepared dinner. Deliberately, carefully, and yes, lovingly, to where she awaits in her bedroom, the oxygenator purring and working, tirelessly, incessantly, purposefully for breathing.
- Took the 7-question quiz about my life and I signed up on tinybuddha.com for their plan to help one to right their life, get back on a level plain. Here are the lengthy results:
Hi rudy,
It’s Lori, founder of Tiny Buddha and the Recreate Your Life Story Online Course. Thank you for taking the quiz: How your past holds you back—and how to change it!
I designed this short quiz and created the course because I know what it’s like to live in regret and to feel powerless and stuck because of it.
I spent the majority of my life dwelling on events from the past that seemed unfair, and choices I made that caused me to feel ashamed.
I obsessed about what should have happened, what shouldn't have happened, what I should have done, what I shouldn't have done, and how everything would be better if I could just go back and change it all.
In my almost-four years of running tinybuddha.com, I’ve personally connected with thousands of readers, and I’ve realized this is something that many of us have in common: we allow our feelings and beliefs about the past to limit our effectiveness and happiness in the present.
And even though we want to let go, we don’t know how to live a life that doesn’t revolve around our former pain. So instead, we keep telling ourselves the same old limiting stories—and in the process, live the story of now based on a sad one from before. - The good news is that we can change how we interpret yesterday, how we view ourselves in response, and how we live today as a result.
More about that later—for now, let’s get to those quiz results to explore how you’re keeping yourself stuck, and a few simple things you can do to change that.
YOUR QUIZ RESULTS
You fixate on mistakes from the past and it’s affecting your self-esteem in the present.
- When you dwell on the past, you focus on things you think you did wrong or things you think you should have done, which ultimately ends up making you feel bad about yourself.
You spend a lot of time wishing you made different choices, and forming overarching conclusions about yourself based on what you’ve done, as if you’re somehow a bad person and there’s nothing you can do to change that.
This can cause you to feel inadequate, ashamed, and depressed—not to mention helpless and stuck. Ironically, it can even cause you to continue making the same mistakes over and over again. When you get down on yourself, it’s harder to make self-affirming choices.
A few ways to let go of your limiting story about yourself:
1. Practice self-compassion.
When you start feeling bad about your choices, think of what you’d say to your closest friend if they had your same experiences. Odds are, you’d recognize they did their best based on where they’d been and what they’d experienced.
You wouldn't yell at them, demean them, or fixate on what they could have done better. You’d do your best to help them feel better right now, because you’d know they’ve hurt enough and they don’t deserve to hurt anymore. You don’t either.
It may also help to visualize yourself as a child. Imagine him or her sitting alone in a room, crying over a mistake, and then look right into that innocent face as s/he says, “Please don’t get mad at me. I tried my best, and I just want you to love me.”
2. Reframe your past choices to identify positive things that came from them.
If you’re convinced that nothing good has come from your choices, you will inevitably see your past through a negative, defeatist lens.
Look back at every choice you’ve regretted, ask yourself, “What good came from this?” This may seem like lying to yourself, as if you’re pretending that something was somehow not painful or difficult.
It’s not. It’s choosing to find something good in the path you’ve taken. If your actions led to a break up, did that allow you time to deal with issues that you may otherwise never have addressed? If your choices caused you to lose a job, did that open you up to other opportunities that may have been better aligned with your passions?
3. Focus on lessons learned and how they’ll serve you well in the future.
You can’t go back and change what you did before, but you can be proud of what you do with the lessons that came from it.
When you start dwelling on choices you wish you made or didn’t make, ask yourself: What did this experience teach me that will help me going forward? What insights did I gain about myself that will help me be the person I want to be?
When you focus on lessons learned, you turn a past you might otherwise regret into something ultimately useful for both your present and your future.
I hope these tips have been helpful to you!
I’ve included the other two quiz results below my email signature, as you may find them useful, as well. If you think someone else would benefit from the insights in these results, please send them the link to the quiz here, as opposed to forwarding them this email or publishing this on your website or blog.
Lori DescheneFounder of Tiny Buddha and the Recreate Your Life Story Online Course
THE OTHER QUIZ RESULTS
RESULT #2
You’re letting other people from your past have power over you, and it’s limiting your potential in the present.
When you think about the past, you generally focus on your relationships and ways you’ve been hurt within them. You may believe someone else is to blame for everything that’s wrong in your life—that you can’t make any positive changes, and it’s all their fault.
Your thinking often places you in a victim role, and this may even feel comforting, since it allows you to defer responsibility for things that you wish were different.
Giving someone else this kind of power over your life can leave you feeling angry, resentful, and depressed—not to mention stuck and helpless. It may also cause to continually attract unhealthy relationships, since we often repeat the same life experiences until we learn the lessons we need to learn.A few ways to let go of your victim story:
1. Practice forgiveness.
Forgiveness doesn’t require you to condone what someone else did. And it’s not about letting that person “off the hook.” It’s about releasing yourself from the pain of your anger and resentment.
It’s about accepting what happened instead of wishing you could go back and change it—which you can’t—and realizing that you don’t have to hurt in the present just because you’ve hurt in the past.
This may be harder to do if the person or people who wronged you show no signs of remorse. It may help to realize that the person who caused you pain was likely responding to their own pain in a misguided way. If they’ve refused to face what they’ve done, they’re likely still hurting now—but you can choose a different way.
2. Identify strengths you’ve developed because of your past relationships.
If you focus on everything you think you’ve lost because of your past relationships, you will inevitably feel angry and stuck. Shift your focus instead to what you’ve gained.
If you were abused, have you become more compassionate and better able to help other people who are hurting? If you were neglected, did you become independent and better able to take care of yourself?
This isn’t pretending that what happened was a good thing. It’s choosing to recognize how you’ve grown because of where you’ve been, and appreciating that as a silver lining to a less than ideal experience.
3. Focus on the good you can do because of what you’ve experienced.
Jean-Paul Sartre wrote, “Freedom is what you do with what’s been done to you.”
Someone else may have hurt you, but you now get to choose: do you pick up where they left off and continually hurt yourself, or do you empower yourself to do something good, not in spite of where you’ve been, but because of it?
Can you use the wisdom you’ve gained to help others who are going through what you’ve been through before? Can you use your insights about people and relationships to form healthier ones going forward?
This thing someone did to you, whatever it was, it can make you bitter, or it can make you better. You get to choose what the past means and where it leads as a result.
RESULT #3
You’re dwelling on perceived injustices from the past, and it’s disempowering you in the present.
When you think about the past, you often focus on “the bad hand” you were dealt. You may fixate on the unfairness of life and wonder why other people have gotten certain advantages you were never afforded.
Your mindset causes you to see the world through a negative lens, and it prevents you from considering that things may not be happening to you, but for you—that there have been seeds of possibility within many of the circumstances you’ve labeled as “bad” and “unfair.”
This thinking can leave you feeling bitter, disempowered, and depressed—not to mention helpless and stuck. It can also cause you to attract more of the circumstances you continually lament, since it’s hard to create positive situations when you’re caught up in negative thoughts.A few ways to let go of your story about unfairness:
1. Practice acceptance.
In dwelling on events and circumstances you believe to be unfair, you’re essentially resisting what is and what has been, as if you can somehow change it by ruminating on it. You can’t.
Realize that accepting something doesn’t mean you agree with it; it just means you stop fighting it, recognize that it’s beyond your control, and shift your focus to what you can control: what you do right now.
It may be easier to accept when you realize you can still be the person you want to be, regardless of where you’ve been—and maybe even because of it. Some of the greatest “success stories” (and, “success” is relative) revolve around people with humble or less than ideal beginnings.
2. Give yourself now what you wish you had then.
In lamenting the hand you were dealt, you’re wishing you could have experienced something else before—to the detriment of what you’re experiencing now.
Underneath every specific desire for your past, there’s a feeling you wish you’d felt. If you wish you had more money, you likely wanted to feel unlimited or secure. If you wish you had more friends, you likely wanted to feel supported and connected.
Proactively choose to provide for yourself now what you wish you had then. Create a sense of possibility by trying something new. Create a sense of connection by joining a club or class.
3. Create a list of ways to be fair to yourself.
Life is not always fair. Some people get more advantages than others. Some people get more opportunities than others. And sometimes, bad things happen to
“good people,” and good things to people who may seem bad.
You can’t change that life isn’t always just, but you can be fair to yourself in the same way you’d be fair to someone else. Start by realizing when you’re hurting yourself by dwelling, and then be fair to yourself by coming back to the present moment.
Recognize when you’re missing out on opportunities in the present by ruminating on the past. Then acknowledge that this isn’t fair to you, and open your eyes to the opportunities you would miss if you didn’t consciously choose to see them.When you focus on doing for yourself
what you wish the world would do for you,
suddenly the latter is far less important. - Dad comes down the steps and I ask him what's playing. He can't hear it so he walks closer to the Bose CD player and announces, correctly and quickly: "That's the Andante of Beethoven's 7th Symphony." Then he imparts some remarkable wisdom about Andante, which is "walking pace", and Adagio, which is slower, and then demonstrates his all-encompassing knowledge of Toscanini and the pace he conducted a Minuet in Haydn Symphony #98 (may be the last movement of this symphony, could not located it on YouTube) is far quicker than other conductors do. Well, dad says, the others didn't look close enough at the score where Franz Joseph wrote "Presto" over the Minuet or very quick.
- We all watch, Mom in her room, of course, and Dad up in the TV room with me and Dancer, Stagecoach from March of 1939, on Turner Classic Movies, the critically acclaimed western, directed by John Ford, that made John Wayne, playing The Ringo Kid, a star.###
-30-
Friday, September 27, 2013
A Letter Home to Mom & Dad on 21 March 2013
This is a copying of a letter I wrote to Mom & Dad, on stationery that I bought at the last Arts in the Heart of Augusta (the most recent one, which I did not attend, is when I moved from North Augusta to head to Delaware from September 20-22, 2013) in 2012, to my parents from the Bojangle's on Wheeler Road, a place I frequented after getting Curt Oglesby up from early September 2012 to June 2013.
Dear Mom and Dad,
On this brilliant Thursday morning in a Bojangle's Restaurant with the sun streaming in onto my white card, unwritten upon, ye, with CNN blaring above me on the television, talk of Obama's visit to Israel; I work to compose my thoughts on the ineffable but unyielding march of time and change. All move forward in some manner, and the process of evolution, change is unremitting, unsympathetic, merciless and unfeeling. We must feel, we must adapt, we must prepare for the eventual. I LOVE YOU BOTH, SO MUCH, and the concern will be earnest and heartfelt. But let us talk, let us plan, for the future, for your heirs, for your legacy for all that makes you the special, precious people that you are.
Decisions, end-of-life ones, are difficult but necessary for those cared for and those who care for you. I am no expert but certainly there are the legal issues (power of attorney and all), health issues (the same), family concerns (what do you want to leave as your gift or remembrance to those, the many, who will mourn your passing)... I could go on but we need to do this task, onerous as it is, as a family, a loving and caring group. And we shall, for the good of all. The result will not only be relief but genuine compassion for each other.
After a delay of less than a day, I resume this important note to my beloved creators, my parents, who standing, unknowing and anxious at the airport in New York, held their two young children, the infant Doug in your arms Mom and the toddler Rudy fitted to the side of you Dad. What a vision from the past. What lay ahead for this young family in late summer, early fall of 1958, a 27-year-old mother and her 30-year-old husband. Fast forward almost 55 years and we are still a family, perhaps separated by miles but still one. Let us always remember that bond wherever our journeys take us, certainly within this life and to the great, unknown beyond. We don't know what awaits us but be resolved that the adventure will be one dressed and protected by compassion and absolute care and of course Love!
Always, Rudy
Dear Mom and Dad,
On this brilliant Thursday morning in a Bojangle's Restaurant with the sun streaming in onto my white card, unwritten upon, ye, with CNN blaring above me on the television, talk of Obama's visit to Israel; I work to compose my thoughts on the ineffable but unyielding march of time and change. All move forward in some manner, and the process of evolution, change is unremitting, unsympathetic, merciless and unfeeling. We must feel, we must adapt, we must prepare for the eventual. I LOVE YOU BOTH, SO MUCH, and the concern will be earnest and heartfelt. But let us talk, let us plan, for the future, for your heirs, for your legacy for all that makes you the special, precious people that you are.
Decisions, end-of-life ones, are difficult but necessary for those cared for and those who care for you. I am no expert but certainly there are the legal issues (power of attorney and all), health issues (the same), family concerns (what do you want to leave as your gift or remembrance to those, the many, who will mourn your passing)... I could go on but we need to do this task, onerous as it is, as a family, a loving and caring group. And we shall, for the good of all. The result will not only be relief but genuine compassion for each other.
After a delay of less than a day, I resume this important note to my beloved creators, my parents, who standing, unknowing and anxious at the airport in New York, held their two young children, the infant Doug in your arms Mom and the toddler Rudy fitted to the side of you Dad. What a vision from the past. What lay ahead for this young family in late summer, early fall of 1958, a 27-year-old mother and her 30-year-old husband. Fast forward almost 55 years and we are still a family, perhaps separated by miles but still one. Let us always remember that bond wherever our journeys take us, certainly within this life and to the great, unknown beyond. We don't know what awaits us but be resolved that the adventure will be one dressed and protected by compassion and absolute care and of course Love!
Always, Rudy
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