Beware of Unreliable, Good Samaritans

That would be me.

Here's what happened (and this is also on the of the reasons you haven't seen any new blog posts recently.)

 My friend Cindy sprained her ankle/broke her foot about a year ago. She had it fixed, heard the instructions about "Staying off it," "Taking easy - let it heal" and all that - and may have tried to follow some of them. Not easy for someone like Cindy who does NOTHING with either her mind or her body under 90 miles an hour. So, predictably when ski season came along two months later, she did her darndest to ram her foot into a ski boot convinced it had healed enough to ski on. Well it hadn't. Which fact she discovered while trying to extract that piece of her anatomy from the boot. Not so good. In fact it was so bad that Cindy found herself going under the knife in a Highly Specialized Foot Reconstruction Place in Vail Colorado.

Her husband stayed with her for one week of the two week recovery process. It was clear she needed help so her powers of persuasion were lined up, put into high gear and and fired in my direction. Would I come and spend a week in the mountains and help her out?

Sure. Why not? Just off a trip to Ohio, followed by a trip Kansas and an upcoming trip to San Francisco, I could think of a pleanty of reasons Why Not. But my heart tries to be mostly in the right place, my intentions are mostly good and my friend was held captive in an armchair with her foot in an oversize black boot with instructions to put NO weight on it for six weeks. So off I went in full sanctimonius Good Samaritan mode
to nurse her back to mobility. But mainly to keep her nailed down.
Everything went well for a while. A little jet-lagged, snuffly and dragging, we attended follow-up appointments, visited bookstores, visited Drew's old friends at his old hotel and went to Physical Therapy sessions. All such forays were accompanied by The Boot, Cindy's bicycle, her shopping bag and crutches. Oh yes - and her Dollar Store scarlet botox lips that went along to entertain bystanders and anesthesiologists. (Not the easiest people to entertain.) I threatened to buy her a tee-shirt that said "Biker Babe " accross the chest.

Then everything went nuts. I threw a wobbly. Woke up one morning trying to heave my insides out, my head ached, my eyes felt like sandpaper, my mouth like a desert and all available blood appeared to have drained overnight. "You look like a ghost!" My friend announced. I looked in the mirror and nearly fainted. No one that white could survive. Clearly, ghost-hood was just around the next corner. Shortness of breath (that dire forerunner of catastrophy due to lack of air) had moved in and we made a beeline for the Emergency Room. Me charging ahead on a rush of adrenalin brought about by near-death, Cindy pedalling furiously behind on one foot and the taxi driver motoring in behind hauling crutches, spare boot and yelling "God Speed " or something ominous that scared the rest of the blood out of me. Tha last thing I needed right now was for the Creator to step on my gas pedal and have me speeding down that oneway street to eternity.
                                                                           ***
It all worked out in the end. It appeared that Vale's 10,000 ft high altitude, mild dehydration complicated by the common cold had been trying to reap my soul but medical science stepped in and thwarted the attempt. (You'll have to wait a littlle longer for me Sweet Drew) I have a Thanksgiving trip to make and another bawdy high school reunion to go to in May. I can't leave now, for Pete's sake.

And I didn't. Pumped up with Oxygen, bloated by gallons of Gatorade, everything moving in blimp-like motion, a friend packed me into the back of her car, Cindy wedged herself into the front with the boot and the bike and the crutches ... I don't know where the biket and the crutches and the back up supplies of Gatorade went.... but somehow we all turned up in back in the condo and lived happily ever after. :)

Happy, Happy Thanksgiving everyone. Here's to life, feet that work, Gatorade, 0xygen and Botox lips! And friendship. Freindship above all.

Your Stories

Thank you all so much for sharing your own stories about those moments before dying. I love hearing them.
  It's so important that we know that dying is nothing to be frightened of.

What Did He See?

Last night I saw a televison piece about the last moments of Steve Jobs life. A brilliant inventor, businessman and entrepreneur. Did you see it?

His family was gathered in his room, around his bed. He knew he was dying, in fact it was reported that with only minutes to live he had already said his goodbyes. Moments before his death the family noticed that he was staring at something beyond and behind them. Then his face suddenly lit up and he was heard to say, "Wow ... " then, "Oh Wow! ... Oh Wow!" And he died.

No one else saw anything. What did Steve see? I don't know. Did he see someone he knew? Someone who had already passed over? Was he given a glimpse of the other side at the moment of physical death? Or was he already there - moments before he left?

It's a common story. One that you will hear time and again from hospice workers and other people, family, friends, doctors, who are in the presense death. The dying person will sometimes make motions, call out names, recognition will light his face or he - or she - may reach out to someone no one else can see.

I can only imagine what Steve Jobs' Heaven looks like! With that giant mind and massive imagination he surely took with him, I can only imagine that if it took his breath away it was wonderful beyond words. Oh wow.

He will not be resting peacefully for very long. Just long enough to catch his breath, I should think. So all I can say to him is HAVE FUN!

Asking For Signs

I do it all the time. It goes like this:

I'm sure I interpreted this dream right, I know what I saw, I know what I heard - but just in case I didn't - will you show me a sign? 

The question is posed to my panel of spirit friends and family and that huge mass of Universal Intelligence  out there. And I always get a sign in reply. It will be the one I asked for, or one that is so individual I can't miss it. Sometimes signs come unasked for. A puff of cigarette smoke, a whiff of my mother's perfume - so out of date you probably can't find it anynmore ... all of them say, "I'm here. I haven't gone anywhere. I've just changed."

Walt, my late husband sends feathers. Drew sends doves and a friend of mine who has lost a daughter finds heart-shaped rocks everywhere she goes.

Yesterday, I spent the day writing (composing) the second book. It's theme is re-incarnation. Did I tell you that? And as I was writing, a phrase occurred to me. "Goodbyes are never what they seem." I wrote it down.

Walking down to the water in the late afternoon, I thought about that phrase again and as I did I noticed two soft breast feathers fluttering on the ground. The ones that grow close to the heart. They were grey with round black spots on them - so pretty. I picked them up and as I did so I smiled and thanked Walt, Drew and the Turtle Dove who dropped them. Then turning to walk away, on the edge of the lake, I noticed a long forgotton rose bush choked by tall grasses, with a single red rose bud. In late October. What do you think?

It's true - good byes are never what they seem.


  

Animal Souls

Have you ever wondered if animals have souls? Are they like ours or are they modified to suit them? I believe they have - whether they're like ours or not, I don't know.
What I do know is that there's a living spirit in Miss Kitty. Miss Kitty, for those of you who missed it, is a half-wild, alternately loving and Alpha-bitchy-fierce Maine Coon who came to live with me about seven years ago. Catitude! I love that word. This little spirit is hyper-energized by Catitude - just ask the three brown dogs that live next door to me. And wish they didn't ...  Because of certain altercations with my cat they keep their eyes on the ground at all times and tiptoe very quietly along the edge of my property. Of course, they are completely lacking in cat-like stealth so this manoever of theirs is not always successful.  Miss Kitty is an inside-outside Feline who guards her borders ferociously, takes the high ground in any situation and holds it. This means that anytime Brown Dogs venture too close to her realm, (she's heard them coming from miles away but they haven't figured that out yet) she's perched (A.)high on my deck rail overlooking whichever direction they're coming from or (B) at the top of the lakeside stairs, curled around the pillar in an attempt to blend in with the wood. Which is unnecessary because the three stooges have their eyes on the ground anyway. And because of this not-so-smart habit of being unaware of their surroundings, I will suddenly hear a volley of scalding yelps,cries and agonized screams and note that Miss Kitty is on the high steps in full Halloween Cat pose, licking her whiskers and squinting down the road at their painful retreat.
Yes, there's a soul inside that furry body. A most spirited soul.
You've seen that soul in your pets too, I know. What I wonder, is did anyone think of the souls of 18 Bengal Tigers that were shot and killed in Ohio yesterday - and God knows how many other hapless animals. What do you think. It's not that I'm Pollyanna-ish about this - I fully understand the devastation 18 tigers are capable of in a populated area. But wasn't there a better way? What in the world were those animals doing in Ohio in the first place? Where are the laws? Where are the people-souls that see fit to remove exotic animals from India and Africa?   
Someone said to me not long ago - "Well! I know for damn sure I ain't decended from no monkey!" Really?
I can think of a lot worse things to be descended from. But that's beside the point.
I wanted to say, "Have you ever looked into the eyes of an Orangutan? " I doubt that he has. If he had, he would have seen the gentlest soul on earth. How wonderful to be descended from a soul that pure.
My old lab Ranger had that sort of soul. I would have loved to have inherited his sweet temperament but I wouldn't have liked to have had a tail and four legs. So I damn sure like the idea of being decended from one of the Great Apes.
Cherish all life, as I know you do.

Brand New Day

Even if you arn't a racing fan, you couldn't miss the event that killed a 33 year old driver on Sunday afternoon. And you couldn't help wondering about those he left behind even though you didn't know them, had never even heard of them. Human suffering has a vibration all its own. It reaches all of us. Like a stone thrown into a pond, its ripples spread across the world, eventually touching the lives of people who had never expected it to, leaving a trace of melancholy to shade our day.

Miss Kitty hasn't heard about the accident, or if she has, it doesn't bother her. That's the way cats are. She woke up this morning, stretched, jumped off the end of my bed and after her handful of morning cookies, she slithered outside through her cat door.

No matter what happens, the new day has arrived. It dawned as surely as it ever has, the first flush of dawn coloring the hilltops in the distance, lighting the darkness slowly but surely. Miss Kitty can smell it. She'll wander her normal route, across the deck, down the steps, pausing to sniff a new pile of leaves that fell from the maple overnight. She'll sniff the cool damp morning for traces of a mole that may have raised his pink nose, speckled with black dirt. She'll reach out and tap at an earthworm that squiggled too far from its earthy home and then she'll continue up the brick walkway, a red carpet under her paws, through the flowerbeds to greet the last buds of summer. Everything is as it should be. Everything is the same.

But for those who are grieving, everything has changed. The new day is choked by the violent events of yesterday and no light can break through the mass of the crushed debris of broken lives.No dawn can soften the memory of the sound of  screeching metal, scarlet flames and the torn asphalt of the track.
In time, a new day will finally dawn, soft and pink and gently light a better day. It's inevitable. But it's arrival is ruled from an invisible realm - it is in the hands of some intagible timekeeper.Whoever that may be.

I hope your day is is a good one. I hope you take time to smell the last buds of summer, and savour that cup of coffee as if it were your last.  

What a Coincidence

Before I tell you about the "coincidence", I want to tell you that The Book is slated for release in June. I can't wait for you to read it. It's so much FUN! I know that sounds weird given it's subject matter - but it is.
The publishers have re-named it. It is now called "By Morning's Light". It took me a while to let go of "Show Me Heaven, Drew" (this is like sending your baby to school for the first time - got to lose some control, got to let go. Ouch.) but now I like it.

So, yesterday was my birthday. Numerologically it worked out like this: (the date 10-10-11) 1+0+1+0+2+0+1+1  =  6. A good number made up of 3s which are full of love. So much love poured in birthday messages. I turned 66. Double good. add those together you get 18 (1+8)  = 9 ... The number of all wishes coming true! What a wonderful day.

All the kids and grandkids called or emailed/texted/facebooked, and friends from all over the world got in touch. It was a great day but towards the end of it, reality set in, I climbed off my blue-bird-of-happiness perch a bit and remembered that Drew wasn't here. There'd be no call from Drew today.

Or would there ... 

In the book I talk about signs from Drew that he's still around. Not long before he passed he sent me the trilogy of "Pirates of the Carribean" to watch and keep. I wasn't really big on pirates to tell you the truth, but I am now because Drew seems to choose this pirate theme to send signs.

So, last night as I was 'going down', I switched on TV and was watching "Dancing with the Stars" (Did you watch it?) and as I half-watched, I realized that one of the pairs was dressed up as pirates and waltzing to "The Black Pearl" (name of the pirate ship) from "Pirates of the Caribbean." Hmmm.  Pirates, a parrot - my favorite dance - Drew's movies -and at the end of the dance, the male dancer stepped forward with a  "Happy Birthday ..." message. Loud and clear.

I don't believe in coincidence.

Thank you Sweet Drew.

Adjust Your Sails and Keep Moving!

All through our lives we find ourselves dealing with change. Seasons change, the weather changes, people change, we get old (let me tell you, this getting older nonsense is a real pain specially when you wake up one morning and lo and behold you discover you can't see a darn thing because "poor eyesight" has moved in overnight) friendships change, feelings change and the list goes on. Some changes may even be life-changing. Things happen and sometimes we can control them and sometimes we can't. Change happens. And it's true that if you can rely on nothing else in this world you can count on nothing staying the same. Have you noticed?
I think this is the way that life moves forward, grows and expands and it's not always easy to climb aboard and go with the pain-in-the-patootie flow. Growing pains are tough. Sometimes they're painful, sometimes even excruciating and some of them can be incomprehensible. But there are also some that are unbelievably exciting and fun. One thing's for sure, they are all a little scary because there's always that element of the unknown to deal with. 
The element of the unknown can be another pain in the neck. I happen to like things I am familiar with. I'm comfortable with things I know - comfortable with things that are predictable and therefore easy to deal with. "But you're not growing sitting around in that Lazy Person chair of yours" I hear. Do I have to? Well, I think you have a choice and given the choice of sitting around and slowly atrophying could be life-changing in it's own way. Predictable though. I'm not sure I want to dwell on that sort of predictability.
 I'm too curious to know what else is out there and I've decided that if I sit around using up a lot of energy protesting the changes that sneak up on me, I'll never know. So I'm thinking Let's Go. Let's find out where this road leads to. This particular stretch may be bumpy, lined with thorny bushes and strewn with rocks but What's Around the Next Bend? It might just be wonderful.  
So I'll try hard to welcome change, trusting the thought that someone up there has a plan for me. (It better be a good one.) I'll hope that it is, even though there's an elment of the unknown in that too. But I'll walk towards it in anticipation. 
When the winds change, I'll adjust my sails, heel out, skate along the edge of that wind feeling its touch and the sound of its voice leading me forward. Here's to this crazy life and to where ever we're all going. I hope it's leading us to something wonderful. To something, somewhere above and beyond all our dreams. 
Happy Trails!

No Place to Hide

When justice fails, as it may have done last night in Georgia when that state executed Troy Davis, then where can we hide? We are all vulnerable, not just the mad dogs among us but everyone of us can fall victim to imprecise and therefore fallible justice. 

I don't claim to know all the facts of the case. We don't know for sure that Troy Davis did not shoot a policeman in Georgia - but when seven out of nine accusers/witnesses recant their testimony to the effect that he did, we have to wonder. When seven out of nine people say they misspoke when they said Troy Davis killed a policeman, the criteria of "beyond reasonable doubt" is nullified and then surely, the death penalty must be thrown out. But that didn't happen.

The State Board of Pardons and Paroles that is supposed to act as the safety net in these instances, withdrew that net and ordered the killing of a man without knowing whether he was innocent or guilty.

It is my opinion that in a world peopled by human beings who by our very nature are inconsistent, impressionable, fallible and sometimes just plain wrong, there should be no such thing as a death penalty in our justice system. People and Justice system they control are just too inexact, too tainted by prejudice, too arbitrary to be trusted with the barbaric task of deciding who lives and who dies.

This country must hang its head today. And give vengeance back to God, where it belongs.

To All The Girls I've Loved Before! Going Back ...

     Sometimes you CAN go back. A group of us went back thirty-eight and forty-eight years last weekend when we met at Marymount in Tarrytown NY for a reunion of old girls and older sisters.

     You would never have known that some of us were grandparents, others dealing with the nuisances of old age and life's glitches, because all of us brought our spirits along and they are all 'the perfect age'. All I know is that I felt about 22 and so did a lot of the others. We talked, we ate, we drank plenty of wine and sang the old school song - and cried - while a few brave husbands and partners (who hadn't been at our all-girls school) looked on at first, and then joined in with gusto.

     The girls came from as far away as Australia and South Africa, Zambia, Zimbabwe, Holland, England,Canada and the USA. (That would be me and a couple of others.) We brought with us scant luggage but plenty of life experiences, some sad, some tragic, some weird and wonderful. We threw this stuff out on the table and shared it all, ate more potato chips, drank more wine, laughed somemore and - cried. Just as we used to. What FUN!

     Funny how the all the things we remembered from all those years ago that were so tragic (e.g. dumped by the pimply love of your life) or so over-the-top wonderful, happy and glamorous (the summer balls, the winter balls, the end of term, rugby matches at the boys school...) pale in the light of age, maturity, a ton of life gone under the bridge along with a few husbands, the birth of babies and grandchildren. These were our yesterdays and something of today.

     Then we found something new - all these years later when some of us are fifty years young, some of us are impressively eighty plus - all of us are still young in spirit, still vibrant, witty and gorgeous. We found new life, new energy, a ton of love and shared experience in a group of bright, beautiful, life-tested women who will never let time - or us - forget them.

Thank you all for marking one of the milestones of my life!