This past week was a whirlwind of family, friends, nostalgia, old demons and mostly joy. I think I grew a lot in just the one week and came to a lot of important realizations. Some answers I was looking for, but just as many I sort of stumbled across.
On Friday, October 20, I flew into San Francisco to go visit my old hometown of high school, Novato, CA. While there I stayed with my former Journalism teacher who was a second mom to me and has become a great friend. Linda is a sprite-like, elfin even, little lady barely in her 60’s, though she looks much younger. She is as she herself described an earth mother. Time with her is always magical and full of learning. While visiting her I got to drive around my old hang-outs, and had meals with two other influential teachers from my past. Hanging out with all three of them confirmed something important for me. My own humanity. The importance of my individuality. They are people, in their own right, in addition to being teachers and like them I too am a unique individual. This was not a new lesson, but it was important none-the-less.
When leaving SF airport I was driving my rental car and got very lost in down town Frisco. Let me just say that while the people in Georgia often refer to Floridian Drivers as Flatlanders; I imagine Frisco drivers call Atlantaians the same thing. OMG! Worse, there was no one to help me and Linda wasn’t even sure where I was. My ability to get lost is legendary to say the least, so I was winding up my heart for a big loud panic and then I took a deep breath and figured it out and got to where I needed to be. Sometimes when I don’t let myself get spun up things are actually easier to fix.
Linda took me to my first Opera. Rigoletto. If you have never seen Opera, go. The stories make no sense, but it is still wonderful. The music swells and you hear it in your soul. I’ll leave that there, but I fell in love.
The best trip of all was a trip Linda and I took to Carmel Valley and Big Sur. Many years ago my family lived in Monterey while my father attended The Naval Post Graduate School. It was a beautiful place and I have good memories, but I also have some very bad ones. My mom talks about it like the last bastion of happiness in our family history (with all of us together anyway). Yet for me it was not. Linda and I went to several of the places I remembered from childhood and walked and shopped and chatted and looked and ate and I made a memory of that place that was mine, on my terms and that I have separate from my parents. This was important. Carmel Valley, Nepenthe, Big Sur and all were as beautiful as I ever imagined. Looking out over that beautiful ocean I remembered more about who I wanted to be and accomplish in a more clear way than I had before. Further, I felt the stirring of freedom in my soul that dusted out some cobwebbed corners. Oh! And my eyes are the color of the Monterey Bay Sea Water. I knew I recognized the color somewhere.
Visiting with Linda was such a joy. The talks we had, the laughs and even the tears. That is family to me.
Then I flew home, and got a good night's sleep. On Thursday I woke up and went to work out. Turns out you cannot work out hard on an empty stomach. You pass out when doing lunges and your trainer has to feed you her lunch (PB&J) and then she makes you get up and finish the work-out. Lesson Learned…
Then I drove to Gainesville, Florida to visit more friends that have become family. This was also a neat moment for me. Visiting them is always a joy, but this one may go down as one of my favorites. The difference is hard to explain, really. Maybe it has to do with me really being happy with who I am and being able to enjoy the blessings of my life.
The drives to and from were especially interesting because I got to think and process all that I am learning. It was a bit humbling as I looked back over the past several months, decisions I’ve made and paths I am choosing. Also the paths and choices of others around me and what I thought my life would be like if I did those things versus how their lives have actually turned out.
So now I am back to the grindstone.
Wednesday I meet with the head of the Graduate Department for the PhD program I want to start next fall. Nervous doesn’t really sum it up. This is where I really find out what the next big evolution in my life is going to be.
After the break, though, I think I’m up for whatever it is.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Happy Dance
Today I woke up to a beautiful morning after a good-night sleep after a 27 hour day. 27 Hours! That's how long your day is when you fly across country going East to West.
This morning I am in San Francisco, in the home of one of my favorite people. So this morning I am happy! There is another reason too, though... not just that there isn't a student in miles of me, either, by the way....
Walking to the airport from my car, carrying my suitcase, I noticed something. The suitcase wasn't heavy and it wasn't hard to carry and my back and shoulders didn't ache from the strain. Then on the plane, noticing that the seats were narrow, the plane was crowded and I had a middle seat, I went ahead, knowing that even in the best of circumstances the seat belt is a struggle to fasten (I can do it, but I just didn't want to fight with it on the first day of vacation...), and asked for an extender. While I was waiting for it, almost without thinking I fastened my lap belt. No struggle. Oh My! The stewardess came to me with the extender and said, "you needed this?" and I answered, smugly I might add, "No. I guess I'm thinner than I thought I was..."
Happy Dance. And I'm in a place that is home with people I adore and I am going to the opera tonight and Carmel Valley, The Barnyard and Nepenthe on Tuesday. Top That!
This morning I am in San Francisco, in the home of one of my favorite people. So this morning I am happy! There is another reason too, though... not just that there isn't a student in miles of me, either, by the way....
Walking to the airport from my car, carrying my suitcase, I noticed something. The suitcase wasn't heavy and it wasn't hard to carry and my back and shoulders didn't ache from the strain. Then on the plane, noticing that the seats were narrow, the plane was crowded and I had a middle seat, I went ahead, knowing that even in the best of circumstances the seat belt is a struggle to fasten (I can do it, but I just didn't want to fight with it on the first day of vacation...), and asked for an extender. While I was waiting for it, almost without thinking I fastened my lap belt. No struggle. Oh My! The stewardess came to me with the extender and said, "you needed this?" and I answered, smugly I might add, "No. I guess I'm thinner than I thought I was..."
Happy Dance. And I'm in a place that is home with people I adore and I am going to the opera tonight and Carmel Valley, The Barnyard and Nepenthe on Tuesday. Top That!
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Leaving Oz
This is for a good friend, but bear with me it will take a while (sometimes the yellow brick road is winding!)
First, beta-blogger is driving me crazy (yeah, I know, short trip...). I was so excited to be able to blog at work again. Now the security settings at school will let me read blogs, even beta-blogs, but I can't post or comment on the beta. OK. Also people are less able to comment on my blogs, which I was surprised to find bothered me more than I thought it would. I mean I never got a huge amount to begin with, but I guess I kind of looked forward to getting what I did have... (Don't I sound pathetic?) So that's the first reason I've been tardy.
Two, is more significant. I've really wanted to blog about something, but it's been hard. Talking to a friend today gave me the courage, for her sake, so I'm gonna try it and see if that clears up this blog constipation so to speak.
Before I go on to that, quickly, a brief update on the petty argument with brother. There is nothing to report. He never called back. Further he and his wife are having some real struggles in their life (Please pray for them if you are so inclined. God will know who G and wife are) and so while I know about those problems and am praying fervently, I am not calling right now. My brother is so stressed he would view it as an attack and the last thing I would want to do is add. He knows I love him and if he needs me he'll call. That is the best part about real family, at least to me. Arguments can be petty, they don't mean anything in terms of the real relationship... I won't go into my guilt on picking the fight in light of all this though...
Now, on to the real issue.
Leaving Oz.
There is a phrase among the family, loved ones and former loved ones of people with borderline personality disorder. It is the moment we often call "Leaving Oz." This is the point when a family member, loved one or spouse decides to get off the roller coaster. For the most part it involves leaving that person. For the most part there is no half way when you have people with this disorder in your life. The most likely way to be free is to separate yourself completely. This is hard. It is not fun. There is guilt and pain and regret and doubt. Yet for many of us it is a reality.
My mom has BPD, and to say that it hasn't affected me, my brother, my father, Nana or any of the rest of the people her life has touched intimately would be a massive denial of reality. My father, after my mother left him, chose quickly to "leave oz" and has no contact with my mother except when she occasionally calls him to try to get him to be friends with her again. My brother and I have both decided that we won't give her up to this demon of sorts, but we both have our own way of trying to stay out of oz, so to speak.
My brother mostly stays emotionally detached. He talks to mom and lets her visit him, he just makes it very not personal, almost like she is simply another mission field to him. Maybe she is. He has claimed on several occasions that she isn't really his mother anymore anyway, so he is simply doing his godly duty. I doubt he really thinks that, but if this is how he copes, it seems to work for him, anyway.
Me, I used to live in Oz with Mom. It was a very scary place. I thought I would have to live there forever. I thought that saving mom meant that I had to keep riding the roller coater over and over and over until the motor died. The ups and downs were terrible. The crying, the guilt, the self accusations, the shame, all that come with this disorder. Some days I was the enemy and some days I was the savior in mom's world. That can be quite a mind trip, to say the least...
Then came the day, March 30, 2004 when I had to make the decision to take Nana into my care. I was only 28, I had just started a new job, I was living in a tiny efficiency apartment with my dog desperately trying to make ends meet after a four month spell of unemployment and Nana needed me. So I took her home with me, no warning, no plan, making it up as I went along. I realized during the ten hour drive home that I couldn't live in Oz anymore. Honestly, my plan at that time was to never speak to or see mom again. Turns out I wasn't strong enough, brave enough or emotionless enough to pull that off. I'm not sure which. It was the right decision for Dad, but it turned out it was not how it would work for me. But I did take a break... and I moved out of Oz.
That was two and a half years ago. A lot has changed, and a lot hasn't. Mom hasn't. She is still, in my opinion, the Queen of Oz, and occasionally the Wicked Witch of The West. However I realized on that terrible day that Nana asked me for my protection that I was choosing to live in that awful land and that I didn't have to and now I was responsible for someone else and she didn't need to live there anymore than I did. So now, Mom still makes me crazy and a tear or two has fallen, but for the most part I choose now when I am going to ride the roller coaster with her, mostly I just wave as she rides by. I'm not sure if I was Dorothy back then, just trying to find my way home or The Scarecrow, no brains to realize I didn't need to be there. The point is, now I am just Sandy and I live on planet earth. There is more Oxygen here, by the way.
So to my dear friend who is currently packing her bags to leave Oz, I want to say that I am so proud of you for standing up and saying "No." It is going to be harder than ever for a while. Change always is. However, I also want to tell you that there is a much more peaceful place over here. I promise that whether you decide to never set foot in Oz again or like me decide to be only an occasional visitor it can be done and there is a better life on the other side of the rainbow.
To everyone else, I would say that mental illness is not just a TV movie of the month. Many of us deal with it everyday. Some of us eventually suffer from it because we had to live with it in others for so long. Most of us don't really talk about it. We live with it too much to want to discuss it. And, a lot of us don't even realize that so much of what we thought was normal growing up, wasn't. Coming out of Oz can be rather blinding for us. Yet it is the love and support of good friends that make it possible.
Thanks guys.
First, beta-blogger is driving me crazy (yeah, I know, short trip...). I was so excited to be able to blog at work again. Now the security settings at school will let me read blogs, even beta-blogs, but I can't post or comment on the beta. OK. Also people are less able to comment on my blogs, which I was surprised to find bothered me more than I thought it would. I mean I never got a huge amount to begin with, but I guess I kind of looked forward to getting what I did have... (Don't I sound pathetic?) So that's the first reason I've been tardy.
Two, is more significant. I've really wanted to blog about something, but it's been hard. Talking to a friend today gave me the courage, for her sake, so I'm gonna try it and see if that clears up this blog constipation so to speak.
Before I go on to that, quickly, a brief update on the petty argument with brother. There is nothing to report. He never called back. Further he and his wife are having some real struggles in their life (Please pray for them if you are so inclined. God will know who G and wife are) and so while I know about those problems and am praying fervently, I am not calling right now. My brother is so stressed he would view it as an attack and the last thing I would want to do is add. He knows I love him and if he needs me he'll call. That is the best part about real family, at least to me. Arguments can be petty, they don't mean anything in terms of the real relationship... I won't go into my guilt on picking the fight in light of all this though...
Now, on to the real issue.
Leaving Oz.
There is a phrase among the family, loved ones and former loved ones of people with borderline personality disorder. It is the moment we often call "Leaving Oz." This is the point when a family member, loved one or spouse decides to get off the roller coaster. For the most part it involves leaving that person. For the most part there is no half way when you have people with this disorder in your life. The most likely way to be free is to separate yourself completely. This is hard. It is not fun. There is guilt and pain and regret and doubt. Yet for many of us it is a reality.
My mom has BPD, and to say that it hasn't affected me, my brother, my father, Nana or any of the rest of the people her life has touched intimately would be a massive denial of reality. My father, after my mother left him, chose quickly to "leave oz" and has no contact with my mother except when she occasionally calls him to try to get him to be friends with her again. My brother and I have both decided that we won't give her up to this demon of sorts, but we both have our own way of trying to stay out of oz, so to speak.
My brother mostly stays emotionally detached. He talks to mom and lets her visit him, he just makes it very not personal, almost like she is simply another mission field to him. Maybe she is. He has claimed on several occasions that she isn't really his mother anymore anyway, so he is simply doing his godly duty. I doubt he really thinks that, but if this is how he copes, it seems to work for him, anyway.
Me, I used to live in Oz with Mom. It was a very scary place. I thought I would have to live there forever. I thought that saving mom meant that I had to keep riding the roller coater over and over and over until the motor died. The ups and downs were terrible. The crying, the guilt, the self accusations, the shame, all that come with this disorder. Some days I was the enemy and some days I was the savior in mom's world. That can be quite a mind trip, to say the least...
Then came the day, March 30, 2004 when I had to make the decision to take Nana into my care. I was only 28, I had just started a new job, I was living in a tiny efficiency apartment with my dog desperately trying to make ends meet after a four month spell of unemployment and Nana needed me. So I took her home with me, no warning, no plan, making it up as I went along. I realized during the ten hour drive home that I couldn't live in Oz anymore. Honestly, my plan at that time was to never speak to or see mom again. Turns out I wasn't strong enough, brave enough or emotionless enough to pull that off. I'm not sure which. It was the right decision for Dad, but it turned out it was not how it would work for me. But I did take a break... and I moved out of Oz.
That was two and a half years ago. A lot has changed, and a lot hasn't. Mom hasn't. She is still, in my opinion, the Queen of Oz, and occasionally the Wicked Witch of The West. However I realized on that terrible day that Nana asked me for my protection that I was choosing to live in that awful land and that I didn't have to and now I was responsible for someone else and she didn't need to live there anymore than I did. So now, Mom still makes me crazy and a tear or two has fallen, but for the most part I choose now when I am going to ride the roller coaster with her, mostly I just wave as she rides by. I'm not sure if I was Dorothy back then, just trying to find my way home or The Scarecrow, no brains to realize I didn't need to be there. The point is, now I am just Sandy and I live on planet earth. There is more Oxygen here, by the way.
So to my dear friend who is currently packing her bags to leave Oz, I want to say that I am so proud of you for standing up and saying "No." It is going to be harder than ever for a while. Change always is. However, I also want to tell you that there is a much more peaceful place over here. I promise that whether you decide to never set foot in Oz again or like me decide to be only an occasional visitor it can be done and there is a better life on the other side of the rainbow.
To everyone else, I would say that mental illness is not just a TV movie of the month. Many of us deal with it everyday. Some of us eventually suffer from it because we had to live with it in others for so long. Most of us don't really talk about it. We live with it too much to want to discuss it. And, a lot of us don't even realize that so much of what we thought was normal growing up, wasn't. Coming out of Oz can be rather blinding for us. Yet it is the love and support of good friends that make it possible.
Thanks guys.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Plastic...
Today was parent teacher conferences. It's a two day, half school day, half hell on earth, extravaganza of solutions, questions, excuses and promises. For the most part I present a case and then just listen.
"Hi, I', Miss X. I'm your child's English teacher, or babysitter."
"Thanks for seeing me, today, even though you had to call every number I have including my work where I was embarrassed into having to talk to you and because my boss was listening agreeing to come to this stupid meeting that is probably all your fault anyway because you are a lousy teacher who doesn't recognize the genius angel that my child is."
"No problem, it speaks well of you and your child's future that you were willing to come... Maybe you will visit them in prison too!"
"You know, my child tells me all the time how much they enjoy your class, you have the most comfortable desks for sleeping."
"Really? I didn't know they had moved beyond monosyllabic conversation"
"Oh, yes, you are one of their favorites, especially to put on their dart board."
"How nice. I'm glad to hear you say that because your child is the most obnoxious and insincere little twerp I have ever had the pleasure of working with and now having met you I can see the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I'm glad I've met you, now I don't feel bad about this kid's failing grade anymore, I'm just sorry I didn't do it sooner!"
No, that conversation did not happen... out loud.
Seriously, I present the child's progress, record, behavior, etc. They ask a few questions, I answer, then they make excuses, I suggest solutions, they make promises and then the whole process starts over with the next group.
When my Dad used to go to parent teacher conferences he made me come with him. I was not allowed to talk until spoken to, I had to listen to every word the teacher said as they presented my record. Then my father would ask me if there was anything I wanted to add or that I disagreed with. Then the teacher and my father (this was back when parents and teachers were on the same team by the way) would tag team me into working harder, getting better grades and behaving better.
Now, I have to say a bunch of flattering things to the parent (And occasionally the child) to get them to agree to try a little harder, be a little quieter in class or a bit more respectful. It's a funny kabuki dance where I essentially end up giving parents my bottom line and from then on the kid knows exactly how far they can push and no farther. Don't I sound cynical? It's not always that bad. And sometimes it's worse.
I have a student who puts a new spin on rude. She is a beautiful girl, and smart as a whip. She will also have puppies when she gives birth some day, if you catch my drift. Seriously. Out right rude, disrespectful and malicious! Oh my. So I started with what a great mind she had, all the potential, and then I moved onto the bad grades and worse attitude. I ended by telling the mom that I was frustrated because I felt like the girl wasn't learning anything in my class and I so wanted her to be successful. The mother asked the child to leave and then burst into tears. "Our life has gone to hell, you can't understand, and so it's not her fault and I can't let you say she can't learn!" OMG! "Ma'am, I didn't say that she couldn't, I just feel like I am failing her as a teacher and I was hoping you could offer some solutions to the problems of her behavior and inability to complete assignments." More tears, more excuses. I went and got the kid back. We created a plan to help her make the work back up and succeed. Mom was so happy and appreciative. I saw the look on this kid's face. What a con job the whole thing was. Yet I'm stuck there, bound by decency to act like I buy it.
We'll see.
"Hi, I', Miss X. I'm your child's English teacher, or babysitter."
"Thanks for seeing me, today, even though you had to call every number I have including my work where I was embarrassed into having to talk to you and because my boss was listening agreeing to come to this stupid meeting that is probably all your fault anyway because you are a lousy teacher who doesn't recognize the genius angel that my child is."
"No problem, it speaks well of you and your child's future that you were willing to come... Maybe you will visit them in prison too!"
"You know, my child tells me all the time how much they enjoy your class, you have the most comfortable desks for sleeping."
"Really? I didn't know they had moved beyond monosyllabic conversation"
"Oh, yes, you are one of their favorites, especially to put on their dart board."
"How nice. I'm glad to hear you say that because your child is the most obnoxious and insincere little twerp I have ever had the pleasure of working with and now having met you I can see the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I'm glad I've met you, now I don't feel bad about this kid's failing grade anymore, I'm just sorry I didn't do it sooner!"
No, that conversation did not happen... out loud.
Seriously, I present the child's progress, record, behavior, etc. They ask a few questions, I answer, then they make excuses, I suggest solutions, they make promises and then the whole process starts over with the next group.
When my Dad used to go to parent teacher conferences he made me come with him. I was not allowed to talk until spoken to, I had to listen to every word the teacher said as they presented my record. Then my father would ask me if there was anything I wanted to add or that I disagreed with. Then the teacher and my father (this was back when parents and teachers were on the same team by the way) would tag team me into working harder, getting better grades and behaving better.
Now, I have to say a bunch of flattering things to the parent (And occasionally the child) to get them to agree to try a little harder, be a little quieter in class or a bit more respectful. It's a funny kabuki dance where I essentially end up giving parents my bottom line and from then on the kid knows exactly how far they can push and no farther. Don't I sound cynical? It's not always that bad. And sometimes it's worse.
I have a student who puts a new spin on rude. She is a beautiful girl, and smart as a whip. She will also have puppies when she gives birth some day, if you catch my drift. Seriously. Out right rude, disrespectful and malicious! Oh my. So I started with what a great mind she had, all the potential, and then I moved onto the bad grades and worse attitude. I ended by telling the mom that I was frustrated because I felt like the girl wasn't learning anything in my class and I so wanted her to be successful. The mother asked the child to leave and then burst into tears. "Our life has gone to hell, you can't understand, and so it's not her fault and I can't let you say she can't learn!" OMG! "Ma'am, I didn't say that she couldn't, I just feel like I am failing her as a teacher and I was hoping you could offer some solutions to the problems of her behavior and inability to complete assignments." More tears, more excuses. I went and got the kid back. We created a plan to help her make the work back up and succeed. Mom was so happy and appreciative. I saw the look on this kid's face. What a con job the whole thing was. Yet I'm stuck there, bound by decency to act like I buy it.
We'll see.
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Petty for the sake of Petty
I picked a fight with my brother on Saturday. There was really no reason to, I had just gotten fed up with a quirk of his personality and I decided to have it out with him. I'm sure he appreciates the gesture. I have an overwhelming urge to call everyone I have ever known and justify myself, but I know that in and of itself this issue is petty. It's the larger issue behind it that is not. My father thinks my brother is upset by the argument as much as I am. I doubt it. Overall I doubt he cares about it one way or the other, which is why I picked the fight. Now, I am going to explain. You have been warned...
My brother is three years younger than I am. He likes people to think he is three years older, so when people ask who is older he always says, "there are three years between us." and people assume he's older, he's the boy after all. My brother, let's call him G, is also the over-achiever, the good student and the one everyone in the family always thinks is wonderful. Well everyone except those of us who have ever lived with him. We think he is a good guy too, I could tell some amazing stories, in fact I probably will for the sake of balance, but, he is just as flawed as the rest of us, just as arrogant (as Dad says G and I come by that honestly...) and just as stubborn as my father, my mother, for the most part my step-mother and I. We all also have self esteem issues, abandonment issues and can get pretty hot tempered (though we all have different kinds of tempers, really... that's another post.)
To start out, let me tell you the good story, for the sake of perspective and balance. When G was 12 and mom was leaving us, mom insisted on taking my comforter because it matched her sheets. At 15, oddly enough I was distraught by the whole idea. My brother, the very miserly of the two of us, went to my father and announced, "I will give mom everything in my bank account if Sandy can have her blanket back..." Sweet, isn't he? When I had to move he came down from college and helped me apartment hunt in my new town, though I had to get him his own hotel room... We couldn't share well even then... He has said some of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me, though he has also said the meanest.
Now he is a minister, in Vermont. He is the head pastor of a church plant, formerly a mission. He has a congregation and lives in a pastorum. Personally, while we have some differences of opinion on peripheral theology (women's role in the church being the most significant) I consider him of great faith and wisdom.
But, there is a massive problem... (obviously, or why would I be writing?)
He is rude to family. He is self important, rude and condescending and I don't think it's OK for him to treat family that way and then turn around and preach about love, honor and family. We come to visit and he parades us around like proof of his superiority... See, he loves his family... yet he treats us like second class citizens.
The argument is about one way he expresses that rudeness. His phone.
Saturday I called him to ask a quick question.
G: Hello? (actually he said his full name, but I won't print that... But I want to be truthful so...)
Me: Hey, G.
G: This is not a good time, I'll call you later.
Me: Well, I've just got a quick question.
G: That's not appropriate. I call you later.
Me: Don't bother.
35 minutes later, he leaves a message. I didn't answer it so I could cool off.
In the message he detailed how he was in the room of a dying woman, and he listed her symptoms, condition and vitals, and that he was praying with the family. He answered the phone because he didn't recognize my number and had to be sure it wasn't an emergency.
I got a grip and called him back.
Me: I listened to your entire message, now I need you to listen to me, please.
G: OK
Me: Obviously that was a very good reason to not talk to me. Though I would say that it's odd that you don't have my number in your phone so that know it's me and just didn't answer. Which brings me to the point. Out of the past twelve times that I have called you, ten of them you said you can't talk, you'd call me back. (This is over the past several months by the way...) You make me feel like a second class citizen and I'm tired of it.
G: Ask Dad, I do it to him too.
Me: I've talked to Dad and am already aware of his opinion on the issue.
(Dad thinks it's as rude as I do by the way... but that's Dad's argument with G, not mine...)
G: Well, I'm sorry.
Me: While I appreciate the fact that you just said that, you are not sorry. You are sorry I'm upset, but you are not sorry about the behavior or you would change it.
G: I am not going to continue a conversation with someone who called me a liar. I'll talk to you another time. ~Click.
See. Petty. The thing is, he does always get off the phone when I call, he only calls me when he intends to "Pastor" me, like I'm younger, dumber and need his guidance. He doesn't return messages, sometimes for as much as a month and I'm tired of what that implies about his family.
So, my brother and I are arguing. Have no idea how long it will last. Dad essentially offered to mediate and I told him to let G and I have it out. It needs to happen.
Dad agreed.
My brother is three years younger than I am. He likes people to think he is three years older, so when people ask who is older he always says, "there are three years between us." and people assume he's older, he's the boy after all. My brother, let's call him G, is also the over-achiever, the good student and the one everyone in the family always thinks is wonderful. Well everyone except those of us who have ever lived with him. We think he is a good guy too, I could tell some amazing stories, in fact I probably will for the sake of balance, but, he is just as flawed as the rest of us, just as arrogant (as Dad says G and I come by that honestly...) and just as stubborn as my father, my mother, for the most part my step-mother and I. We all also have self esteem issues, abandonment issues and can get pretty hot tempered (though we all have different kinds of tempers, really... that's another post.)
To start out, let me tell you the good story, for the sake of perspective and balance. When G was 12 and mom was leaving us, mom insisted on taking my comforter because it matched her sheets. At 15, oddly enough I was distraught by the whole idea. My brother, the very miserly of the two of us, went to my father and announced, "I will give mom everything in my bank account if Sandy can have her blanket back..." Sweet, isn't he? When I had to move he came down from college and helped me apartment hunt in my new town, though I had to get him his own hotel room... We couldn't share well even then... He has said some of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me, though he has also said the meanest.
Now he is a minister, in Vermont. He is the head pastor of a church plant, formerly a mission. He has a congregation and lives in a pastorum. Personally, while we have some differences of opinion on peripheral theology (women's role in the church being the most significant) I consider him of great faith and wisdom.
But, there is a massive problem... (obviously, or why would I be writing?)
He is rude to family. He is self important, rude and condescending and I don't think it's OK for him to treat family that way and then turn around and preach about love, honor and family. We come to visit and he parades us around like proof of his superiority... See, he loves his family... yet he treats us like second class citizens.
The argument is about one way he expresses that rudeness. His phone.
Saturday I called him to ask a quick question.
G: Hello? (actually he said his full name, but I won't print that... But I want to be truthful so...)
Me: Hey, G.
G: This is not a good time, I'll call you later.
Me: Well, I've just got a quick question.
G: That's not appropriate. I call you later.
Me: Don't bother.
35 minutes later, he leaves a message. I didn't answer it so I could cool off.
In the message he detailed how he was in the room of a dying woman, and he listed her symptoms, condition and vitals, and that he was praying with the family. He answered the phone because he didn't recognize my number and had to be sure it wasn't an emergency.
I got a grip and called him back.
Me: I listened to your entire message, now I need you to listen to me, please.
G: OK
Me: Obviously that was a very good reason to not talk to me. Though I would say that it's odd that you don't have my number in your phone so that know it's me and just didn't answer. Which brings me to the point. Out of the past twelve times that I have called you, ten of them you said you can't talk, you'd call me back. (This is over the past several months by the way...) You make me feel like a second class citizen and I'm tired of it.
G: Ask Dad, I do it to him too.
Me: I've talked to Dad and am already aware of his opinion on the issue.
(Dad thinks it's as rude as I do by the way... but that's Dad's argument with G, not mine...)
G: Well, I'm sorry.
Me: While I appreciate the fact that you just said that, you are not sorry. You are sorry I'm upset, but you are not sorry about the behavior or you would change it.
G: I am not going to continue a conversation with someone who called me a liar. I'll talk to you another time. ~Click.
See. Petty. The thing is, he does always get off the phone when I call, he only calls me when he intends to "Pastor" me, like I'm younger, dumber and need his guidance. He doesn't return messages, sometimes for as much as a month and I'm tired of what that implies about his family.
So, my brother and I are arguing. Have no idea how long it will last. Dad essentially offered to mediate and I told him to let G and I have it out. It needs to happen.
Dad agreed.
Friday, October 06, 2006
A Moment of Silence
Fat Doctor posted today to inform us of the passing of another treasured blogger, Glorified Midwife. FD has not as of yet disclosed the details, if she even knows, but I consider Fat Doctor very reliable so I have no doubt as to the passing.
This brings lots of different questions, ideas and emotions to the surface. My initial reaction is, "but she was so young, younger than me even!" followed quickly by "and she was doing so much good in the world, she'd just gotten a kitten, finished medical school, she had things to say, people to heal, blogs to write, books to read. She wasn't finished yet!"
And then there is a part of me that envies her. I am very confidant that she has now seen God in the flesh. She is warm, and happy and at peace.
So this is a moment of silence for our dear Glorified Midwife. We remember her honesty, her humor, her desire to help others, her joy and her vigor in life. She will be missed and not forgotten. I always thought she was someone I would be friends with if I met personally, so I look forward to actually seeing her in person someday. I thank and praise God that this is the case.
This moment of silence is also for her family, friends and the lives she touched. May God keep them, bless them and comfort their hearts in this time of loss.
Rest Peacefully, Glorified Midwife.
This brings lots of different questions, ideas and emotions to the surface. My initial reaction is, "but she was so young, younger than me even!" followed quickly by "and she was doing so much good in the world, she'd just gotten a kitten, finished medical school, she had things to say, people to heal, blogs to write, books to read. She wasn't finished yet!"
And then there is a part of me that envies her. I am very confidant that she has now seen God in the flesh. She is warm, and happy and at peace.
So this is a moment of silence for our dear Glorified Midwife. We remember her honesty, her humor, her desire to help others, her joy and her vigor in life. She will be missed and not forgotten. I always thought she was someone I would be friends with if I met personally, so I look forward to actually seeing her in person someday. I thank and praise God that this is the case.
This moment of silence is also for her family, friends and the lives she touched. May God keep them, bless them and comfort their hearts in this time of loss.
Rest Peacefully, Glorified Midwife.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Good Advice
Sometimes I amaze even myself with good advice. A friend was asking me this week about a girl he is considering "making a pass at." He asked my opinion. I gave it to him. I think it was one of my finer pieces of work. So I'm going to share it, recognizing that what I told him is only slightly specific to him and might be of value to others...
My advice on should he date this girl and how can you pick the right one...
The question is are you looking for Mrs. Right or Miss Right Now? Neither is a bad answer. You are only 20 and have lots of life and time left and as a guy there is no biological clock thing either...
Here's the thing. Even if you don't want to be "forever" right now, (why would you, you are only 20), the person you choose right now could easily become "forever" eventually. Or, because of things in a relationship right now you may have to deal with this person "forever," at least according to every statistic I've read... so, on what basis do you want forever to be with this girl? Friend, friend with benefits, friend with regrets, friend with your child, friend you share a medical condition with, friend forever... you get the idea.
The drinking really is a concern. Granted I know most people think I am a bit of a prude about alcohol as well as sex. Probably am, but as a teacher and daughter and former college student and medic... the alcohol thing is an issue. She may have an addictive personality, this is a problem in relationships, especially romantic and/or intimate ones. She may be an alcoholic... There are many forms on that. She may have serious emotional baggage that causes this need to be drunk... Not that these things make her bad or someone you shouldn't date, but you need to be aware of what they mean and how you plan to deal with them...
There are lots of guys I know who just look at it as, "whatever, it's no big deal" and maybe you are that guy... I personally don't think so...But God knows I've been wrong before, and it wouldn't make you a bad person.
I was actually sort of joking about the friendship margin thing. If she really is the one, you have all the time in the world, so make sure she is. It might be slightly more awkward in a month or even six, but if she's worth it who cares. I know you are worth it.
So, that is my advice, you asked for it, however.... You are 20 years old. I love you, you are my friend, and I trust you; so do whatever you think you want/need/have to do and know those three facts won't change.
The problem I have, or more specifically what I want to know is, why if I can give good advice is my own life always such a mess?
But maybe that is the comfort to all the young people out there in love and/or looking for it. No one gets it right all the time in their own life no matter how good their advice is to you. Take comfort in that...
My advice on should he date this girl and how can you pick the right one...
The question is are you looking for Mrs. Right or Miss Right Now? Neither is a bad answer. You are only 20 and have lots of life and time left and as a guy there is no biological clock thing either...
Here's the thing. Even if you don't want to be "forever" right now, (why would you, you are only 20), the person you choose right now could easily become "forever" eventually. Or, because of things in a relationship right now you may have to deal with this person "forever," at least according to every statistic I've read... so, on what basis do you want forever to be with this girl? Friend, friend with benefits, friend with regrets, friend with your child, friend you share a medical condition with, friend forever... you get the idea.
The drinking really is a concern. Granted I know most people think I am a bit of a prude about alcohol as well as sex. Probably am, but as a teacher and daughter and former college student and medic... the alcohol thing is an issue. She may have an addictive personality, this is a problem in relationships, especially romantic and/or intimate ones. She may be an alcoholic... There are many forms on that. She may have serious emotional baggage that causes this need to be drunk... Not that these things make her bad or someone you shouldn't date, but you need to be aware of what they mean and how you plan to deal with them...
There are lots of guys I know who just look at it as, "whatever, it's no big deal" and maybe you are that guy... I personally don't think so...But God knows I've been wrong before, and it wouldn't make you a bad person.
I was actually sort of joking about the friendship margin thing. If she really is the one, you have all the time in the world, so make sure she is. It might be slightly more awkward in a month or even six, but if she's worth it who cares. I know you are worth it.
So, that is my advice, you asked for it, however.... You are 20 years old. I love you, you are my friend, and I trust you; so do whatever you think you want/need/have to do and know those three facts won't change.
The problem I have, or more specifically what I want to know is, why if I can give good advice is my own life always such a mess?
But maybe that is the comfort to all the young people out there in love and/or looking for it. No one gets it right all the time in their own life no matter how good their advice is to you. Take comfort in that...
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
I am Cyclops
Today is twin day for Homecoming Week. Robin (my team teacher) and I both dressed as Mountain Medics. We have on jeans, a red long sleeve shirt, my green camp scrub tops, hiking boots, stethoscopes and Robin braided our hair in two french braids down either side of our head. We are adorable if I do say so myself.
Anyway.
Again the battle is raging in my third period. They refuse to adhere to civilized, polite and respectful behavior. Today as I was answering questions about a quiz they were taking, I noticed that the majority of the class had begun chattering as I answered the question. So I declared the whole class in violation of the honor code and failed all of them on the quiz. You could have heard a pin drop. Then I had a kid say to me, "That's not fair."
God have mercy on that child's soul. I explained what fair was to him and asked him if he really wanted me to apply that standard in the class.
"No ma'am."
So I did it. They all failed the piddly little five point quiz. It was easy to grade at least. I talked to the kids that I am sure were most likely not talking privately after class. They understand and I have them set up so they can fix it quickly, quietly and simply. They actually understand and told me not to worry about it. I appreciate that, but today I feel like a huge one eyes cyclops raging through the school, for all that I was dressed today as a rustic healer.
Why can't these kids get this concept!
Anyway.
Again the battle is raging in my third period. They refuse to adhere to civilized, polite and respectful behavior. Today as I was answering questions about a quiz they were taking, I noticed that the majority of the class had begun chattering as I answered the question. So I declared the whole class in violation of the honor code and failed all of them on the quiz. You could have heard a pin drop. Then I had a kid say to me, "That's not fair."
God have mercy on that child's soul. I explained what fair was to him and asked him if he really wanted me to apply that standard in the class.
"No ma'am."
So I did it. They all failed the piddly little five point quiz. It was easy to grade at least. I talked to the kids that I am sure were most likely not talking privately after class. They understand and I have them set up so they can fix it quickly, quietly and simply. They actually understand and told me not to worry about it. I appreciate that, but today I feel like a huge one eyes cyclops raging through the school, for all that I was dressed today as a rustic healer.
Why can't these kids get this concept!
Monday, October 02, 2006
Oh! I knew it... Now will parents do anything about it...?
Granted, the "science" of this article is a little shaky, but it makes some valid points and I like the idea. Too many kids are raised by TV as it is...
TV during the Weekday Effects Grades Negatively
Growing up my brother and I were only allowed to watch certain shows with our parents. There wasn't a lot of TV on school nights that I can remember, as a child at least. As a teenager I know we watched more, but more often we taped it and watched on the weekend. I'm sure that there must be a cut off level. I like the parents who set a "spending limit" for TV. Kids get so many hours during the week and then that's it.
Thought I'd pass it along...
TV during the Weekday Effects Grades Negatively
Growing up my brother and I were only allowed to watch certain shows with our parents. There wasn't a lot of TV on school nights that I can remember, as a child at least. As a teenager I know we watched more, but more often we taped it and watched on the weekend. I'm sure that there must be a cut off level. I like the parents who set a "spending limit" for TV. Kids get so many hours during the week and then that's it.
Thought I'd pass it along...
It's Monday!
So, the weekend is over and the drama with mama is finished and I for one am thankful and slightly exhausted which is the perfect place to be when I am about to (drum role please...) take the GRE!
That's right the Greatfully Ridden Elephant, no, the Giving Relaxation Examination, no, the... actually I have no idea what it stands for. Don't even care really. This is the test you have to take before going to Grad or PhD school. It's like a higher level, harder SAT or ACT. I took it before going into grad school so long ago, but the score is only good five years, so here I go again.
The test is on Wednesday morning in Downtown Atlanta! So, I have decided to stay at a hotel five minutes from the testing center and just walk over in the morning rather than make myself crazy with traffic, parking and directions right before I take the test. I'm actually looking forward to the idea of a little decadence before the test. Long Bubble bath (where I don't have to clean the tub, and maybe I might actually fit in the tub...) cable movie with no Nana babble or close captioning (that covers up the picture sometimes!) and breakfast delivered to me. I'd actually even get to sleep in about thirty minutes and the short brisk walk before the test would do me good... better than an hour in traffic anyway.
So there is that to look forward to. Also I am starting the countdown to my trip to Frisco for vacation. I will be visiting with my dear high school journalism teacher, second mom and dear friend. I may also get to dine with my senior English teacher, my template so to speak, and my math/physics teacher. That man is a real card. Plus the coastal, bay air and the views... Yep, counting down!
Happy Monday!
That's right the Greatfully Ridden Elephant, no, the Giving Relaxation Examination, no, the... actually I have no idea what it stands for. Don't even care really. This is the test you have to take before going to Grad or PhD school. It's like a higher level, harder SAT or ACT. I took it before going into grad school so long ago, but the score is only good five years, so here I go again.
The test is on Wednesday morning in Downtown Atlanta! So, I have decided to stay at a hotel five minutes from the testing center and just walk over in the morning rather than make myself crazy with traffic, parking and directions right before I take the test. I'm actually looking forward to the idea of a little decadence before the test. Long Bubble bath (where I don't have to clean the tub, and maybe I might actually fit in the tub...) cable movie with no Nana babble or close captioning (that covers up the picture sometimes!) and breakfast delivered to me. I'd actually even get to sleep in about thirty minutes and the short brisk walk before the test would do me good... better than an hour in traffic anyway.
So there is that to look forward to. Also I am starting the countdown to my trip to Frisco for vacation. I will be visiting with my dear high school journalism teacher, second mom and dear friend. I may also get to dine with my senior English teacher, my template so to speak, and my math/physics teacher. That man is a real card. Plus the coastal, bay air and the views... Yep, counting down!
Happy Monday!
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