FAST AWAY THE OLD YEAR PASSES

In case you're interested, the Democrats have sent a united letter to Harry Reid to end the rules of the Senate regarding the Filibuster.  There is only one day every Congressional session that they can do this and every Democrat has signed on to it.  If Harry retains his balls, we can actually make incredible strides to fix the Senate.  I'm sceptically optimistic.

In the meantime, it's the last week of 2010.  Do one thing this week that matters...big or small.  One little thing.  Then call it a year.

SO IT IS CHRISTMAS

Tillie is sleeping beside me, the lights of the Christmas tree shine.
I have who I love to abide me...my husband, my son, they are mine...
The fears of tomorrow will wait now, I'll drink in the the silent dark night
I know in the darkness it's Christmas.  Somehow, it will all be alright.

Happy Christmas to all who may stumble upon this little poem tonight.  I hope it brings you what this season is meant to bring...comfort and joy.  It's the very early morning so I'll not say goodnight...Happy, happy Christmas Day.

p.s.  If someone you love is apart from you, this is a great time to say "Hello."  No, not right this minute, it's the middle of the night you dimwad, I mean during the Holidays.  Get in touch at a reasonable hour for Christ's sake.  And yours too...Happy Christmas to all and to all a Good night.  I'm going to bed now.  Ho dee Ho Ho and all that.  The dogs have more presents than we do. Just thought you'd like to know.  And Batman just got in the middle of the manger.  I don't care, I'm going to bed.  Soon.  Good night, Universe.

20 YEARS

Tomorrow is December 23, 2010.  20 years since Viola Matilda Lilian (Ole Tilly Lilly according to her) left this world for the other side.  The woman who invented laughter and created a legacy of glorious stories, nonsense, silliness, love, acceptance and laughter for everyone who ever crossed her path.  My Grandmother.  Gramma.

It seems forever since I sat with her although I've felt her presence innumerable times since her passing.  She visits me.  Not like the ghost of Christmas past but as a feeling.  I know when I'm being who she would want me to be...that person is myself.

When I'm talking to a plant and scolding it for being uncooperative, I suddenly feel that way I felt when she was standing beside me.  When I collapse in laughter and have to wipe my eyes again and again I hear her raucous cackle (a laugh we girls all inherited...completely unfeminine and awesome) and know she gave me that ability.

So many people can't do that, you know.  Completely lose it in laughter.  I remember one comedy class when every one of us got so caught up in laughing that we actually just stopped the class because we all just kept looking at one another and laughing at the other one laughing...just like in the living room of Gramma's house, with Dad and Mom and Uncle Bobby and Gramma and all of us telling stupid stories or laughing about anything that struck us at the moment.

I am thankful for so many gifts that have been given to me in my lifetime.  My parents were teachers and gave me my love for learning.  My brothers and sisters have given me endless gifts. I have friends of every race, color and creed from all over the country and even the world and they have given me gifts that I can't begin to list. I'm grateful that I was raised in a spiritual home because even though I'm no longer a practicing Catholic, I have a connection with my God and Jesus will always be a mentor. I like that Buddha guy too...I'd like to get a piece of that calm in my life ...perhaps a goal for next year.

All the gifts are wonderful and become essential at the times that I need them...but I have to say that if one thing has saved me throughout my life, in sickness and health and pain and good times and bad times and all the in between it's the rowdy, raucous, irreverent, bawdy, crazy, loud laughter that I inherited from my Grandmother...Viola Matilda Lilian...Ole Tilly Lilly...to say rest in peace would be a travesty.  Keep shaking the Heavens, Gramma!  We'll have one Heaven of a laughter reunion one day...and as the universe goes, it's only a moment away.  Oh, how I love you.

LIAR LIAR PANTS ON FIRE

My son says people read blogs even when they don't comment.  I now tell him "liar, liar, pants on fire."  I have opened my heart again and again for months now.  My darling Sister-in-law Jen comments when she has time.  That's it. Nobody knows I'm alive, in the Cyber world.

But you know what?  I won't quit because I'm shouting to the universe and the internet never dies.  Who knows?  Someday, someone may find these postings and just one missive might make a difference.  In the meantime, I get to write and rant and tell the universe my version of the truth.

So, perhaps Jimmy is not a liar.  It's just that the people who might read my blog will be doing so when my ashes are in the Mississippi River off the coast of Lacrosse.  But if that happens, greetings.  I wasn't wrong, huh?  Good luck to you all. What a world these nutbags handed you.  I tried.  I really tried. Move to Canada.

FA LA LA LA LIFE GOES ON

Since we're getting close to Christmas, I thought I'd post another letter from a while back.  This was 2006 when I really did a lot of travelling for the company.  It's hard to believe that the years our life circumstances go "Slip Slidin' away" as Paul Simon would say.  But when we look at what we survived and celebrated, it also gives us an idea of what we are still capable of doing.  So here, a bit of nostalgia from 2006.

Greetings My Darlings!  What a year!!!  A new beginning in so many ways…life is never boring, that’s for sure!

There were so many comings and goings this year…Ron is working in Durango, so I’ve been back and forth, trying to adjust to a long distance marriage for the time being.  I do miss him, but he’s working for himself again, and near his kids, which makes him very happy.  He’s going to be a Grampa, as his daughter Maureen is due to bring “Elizabeth” into the world sometime in February. So, we hang in there and punt!       

              

Some of you may remember me speaking of Scooter, a young man Ron and I mentored while we were in Memphis.  So much potential gone in a heartbeat…shot dead for no reason except that he lived in a bad neighborhood…he flew away this past spring.  My dear friend, Betty Cook flew away this year too.  But I had the joy of heading down to Texas, meeting her kids, and adopting her beloved fat cat, Pinto.  He now lives with Louie, Roxy and Tillie in our little house here in Colorado.  He thinks I invented the cold weather and snow and I get plenty of dirty looks from him when he can’t be the mighty hunter in the back yard. 

Jimmy is back in Michigan, and getting a little rest after an arduous many months as the chief researcher for Democratic Senator Debbie Stabenow’s re-election campaign…she won resoundingly, and I couldn’t be more proud of my wonderful son.  My parents are doing pretty darn well, considering they’re both octogenarians now!  It’s hard to believe, especially when I see people so many years younger than they who don’t have anywhere near the energy and life that they have.  I come from great stock!

So, as always, I have some great stories.  I did a lot of traveling this year with my job.  I was in Honolulu, San Antonio, Dallas, Los Angeles, Tulsa and Orlando! So my first story is about Roahlun.  (Pronounced like Roland, without the d.)  I was on a return flight into Denver, and as soon as I sat beside him, this proud Grampa started telling me about how he was going to see his grandchildren in Sacramento.  He had a bag of gifts that I helped him situate in the overhead bin, among them a porcelain Barbie doll.  He confided in me that it was his last time to visit the kids.  He had cancer and was going into hospice.  We talked all trip, and as we were taxiing into the terminal, he looked at me, his eyes filled with tears, and I took his hand.  After a moment, being polite, he started to remove his hand.  I told him, “It’s okay, let’s just stay this way till the plane stops.”  We held hands into the terminal, both grateful that we had this tiny moment in time to share.  We said goodbye as they helped him into his wheelchair, his precious gifts securely in his lap, then he waved one last time as he was wheeled down the concourse.  Goodbye Roahlun.  Godspeed.

On my way to Orlando, mid-November, I had a lot of time to kill, as we were to be at the airport 2 hours before flight.  So I got some breakfast, and sat at the bar with a Bloody Mary, watching the hoards roll by.  Then a young man, 22 years to be exact, in a Marine Uniform sat down a few seats from me.  I asked him where he was going.  He told me he just got back from Iraq, and was headed home to Florida.  I asked him if I could give him a hug, and he said “sure”.  I held him and we both started to cry.  He was surprising his family who wasn’t expecting him until just before Christmas.  I told him, as a Mom, that first she would be so happy, and then she was going to smack him for not telling her.  He laughed, I bought him a beer, and we celebrated his safe homecoming.

Thanksgiving Day.  I’m about to head to the airport to get Ron, and I decide to get some muffins, cause I know he’ll have an empty stomach.  Ron gets motion sickness, so he never eats before he gets on a plane, no matter what time the flight.  So I notice that the Winchell’s Donuts right by our house is open.  Inside is a little, chubby man with a Middle Eastern accent.  I order my donuts, and then ask him if he will be able to go home pretty soon.  He says he has to sell all the donuts in the case first. Then he says, “Talk to God!”   I asked him how many donuts in the case, and he said about Eight dozen.  The streets were deserted…I knew he wouldn’t get to go home until well into the afternoon, if at all!  So, I got an inspiration.  I got the address for the Denver Rescue Mission.  He called the owner, and the owner promised to deliver them to the Rescue Mission if I bought them all.  So I did!  The little man was so happy…as I was leaving the store he threw his hands in the air and said “I’m going home!”  The Rescue Mission called about an hour and a half later, ecstatic about the unexpected treat!  But I truly think I had the best time of all…what fun it was to do something so spontaneous and joyous.

So, another year.  I designed these Christmas Cards for all of us.  Scooter and Betty and Roahlun, for my young Marine, the little man in the Donut Shop…for Ron, for Jimmy, for my parents, my brothers and sisters, and for all of you my dearest friends, both near and far…but mostly for the children who count on us to lead the way.  As God’s grown up children, it’s up to us.  Pray for, strive for, work for Peace.  May the coming year bring you countless joys.  Stay in touch.

IT GOES ALONG LIKE THIS FOR A WHILE

My old buddy Rocket used to say "It goes along like this for a while and then it gets worse."  I know he stole the line from someone but it doesn't matter.  It always sounded great coming from Rocket.

Just as I was going to post this blog the "Alleluia Chorus" from Handel's "Messiah" came on the Holiday music I was playing as I wrote.  It reminded me of a Christmas.  We actually laughed at this story at Mom and Dad's after Jim's funeral.  There was a Christmas when everyone was there and gathered, had all eaten breakfast and were ready for the "present fest."  Jim was still sleeping.  I have no recollection why since at that time he would have been on college break, but we had had enough of it.  So I went upstairs with the help of either Jane or Andy and took the humongous speakers that he had in his room and put them at the head of his bed.  Then I rifled through his records and, of course, found the "Messiah."

Knowing it would be the last track, we jacked the speakers up as loud as they would go. I dropped the needle softly and suddenly, at the volume that would rival full orchestral concert, the chorus began.  Jim literally levitated from his bed.

He sat, disheveled and ticked off as he shook the sleep away and said "Why the Hell did you do that???"

I responded, "I thought you could 'Handel' it."  As angry as he was, he laughed.

I had something completely different I was going to post and now I can't remember what it was.  I'm tired, it's been a long weekend and tomorrow starts another day.  But I remembered my brother with a smile and a laugh as opposed to anger.  That's wonderful.

Oh, and I am going to start playing at this awesome gay bar named the "Aqua Lounge" twice a month.  I think that's what I was going to write about.  I think that getting my life back and reconciling Jim are one and the same.  Good night then.

DON'T GIVE UP ON PEOPLE

I was really upset with my mother, though I didn't tell her so because when your Mom is pushing 85 you would like to have as loving and peaceful a relationship as possible.  Again and again, I see why holding your tongue and holding on is the right decision.  You can go to therapy after they pass. Our time here on this side is limited. I don't want to lose a minute.

This evening she sent me a Powerpoint that contained photographs of women - it was breathtaking and humbling and astounding.  Women who have endured so much.  I opened it when I sat down after cursing and swearing over the fact that I was too short to reach the area I wanted to hang a Christmas wreath and the fact that because I was too short two nails flew God knows where (I took off my shoes before I viewed the photos and said out loud to myself "well, I'll find them now that I'm not wearing my shoes.")  I was tired and sore and worn out. A grumpy old grouch, to say the least.

I finally said "Fuck it, I'm done."  I poured a glass of wine and checked my email and there it was.  It just looked different from the emails that Mom sends.  It just said "Women."  All she said in the body of the email was "Good reminders of women all over the world."  Again...so uncharacteristic of the emails or forwards she sends.

I don't think that she knew what she gave to me.  Sometimes we give what we conceive to be a tiny gift and to the recipient it is beyond words.  That's what happened.

I live in a really nifty home that Ron and I have worked so hard to make our own.  Nothing in this house would ever speak "Homeowner's Association" or "Model Home."  It's an old house...built for the military just like all the other houses in our area, only we have a lot more area because one of the owners before us decided to build an addition with brick that matched the original.  When Ron and I moved in we went about making it our own and did wonderful things like ceramic floors, rebuilding areas to be more efficient...really put effort into making a house into a home.

The reason I'm bringing this up is the photos.  I saw photographs of beautiful and loving and old and young and heartbroken and homeless and every circumstance that could exist in the life of a woman.  It made my frustration at being short and tired so absolutely ridiculous.  There is a photograph of a woman with a joyful smile carrying what would amount to two laundry baskets on her head and another under her arm with a child beside her.

There are elderly women carrying loads of firewood, sewing, working the fields.  There are women teaching and weeping and living lives of such deprivation with smiles still working the corners of their mouths and the lights of their eyes.

Shame on me and shame on all of us who think our life is so bad.  Even for one minute.  We have the strength of lionesses and to let anything break us when we have such plenty here is nonsense.  We just have to stop being afraid.

I, for one, will just have to buy a little higher step ladder.  And I have the money to do so.  To put up decorations.  I doubt that most of these incredible women have the luxury to consider that to be their pressing issue.

To the women of the world:  You give life, you are life and you are more powerful than you can imagine.  As I tell you to believe in yourselves, I'm telling myself to believe in me so that I can be a part of the proud legacy that is woman.

Thanks, Mom.  What an unintentionally beautiful gift.  It's amazing how an evening can turn.  Life is something.  I'm not sure what.  I guess it is what it is and I will always welcome the surprises.

NEWS FLASH: NO WAR ON CHRISTMAS

My Mother sent me an email with a Ben Stein Essay.  Ben Stein is a wealthy conservative who's two biggest claims to fame are his appearance in "Ferris Beuler's Day Off" as the teacher who keeps repeating : "Beuler...Beuler...Beuler..." and his game show "Win Ben Stein's Money" hosted by Jimmy Kimmel (who has, so happily gone on to better venues.)


Ben Stein is no benevolent.  He, like so many other conservatives, continues to try to tell very nice people who want their Jesus in the Manger Christmas, that someone out there is totally out to get them.  He even couches his theories in rhetoric that says "I'm a Jew and I'm not offended when I don't see a Menorrah placed beside a Nativity Scene."  Whoopee for you, Ben.  Neither am I.  Nor am I offended by any other celebrations of the season by people of every faith and ideology.  So I'm going to post for you the gist of what I wrote to my Mom and, to her credit, she is always willing to read another opinion.  I'll tell you her response at the end because I laughed.  She can't fight her Catholiciness.  So, here's my commentary on the phony war on Christianity:


Dear Mother - I know that you sent this with the very best of intentions.  I got a similar type of missive from Toni.  The problem is that it's a fake controversy.  I'd really like this whole "assault on Christians" nonsense to disappear."  So here's a little something to think about from me. 

Thanks for sharing the wisdom of Mr. Moneybags, Ben Stein.  He's quite articulate. There's an inherent problem with all of this.  NOBODY discrinimates against Christians in America.  In fact, the majority of the bullying and railing against other faiths and other belief systems generally emanates from fundamentalist Christian organizations/faiths.  This stuff always ticks me off because it is couched in this benevolent language that sounds so reasonable and kind. 

Now, referring to some of the issues highlighted by Mr. Stein:   "Dr. Benjamin Spock said we shouldn't spank our children when they misbehave, because their little personalities would be warped and we might damage their self-esteem.  We said an expert should know what he's talking about..  And we said okay." 

The truth is that spanking IS bad.  It teaches kids to hit one another. 

"In light of recent events... terrorists attack, school shootings, etc..  I think it started when Madeleine Murray O'Hare (she was murdered, her body found a few years ago) complained she didn't want prayer in our schools, and we said OK.  Then someone said you better not read the Bible in school.  The Bible says thou shalt not kill; thou shalt not steal, and love your neighbor as yourself.  And we said OK."

Reading the bible in public school IS bad (regardless of whether or not it offends Ben Stein who is extraordinarily wealthy and probably went to an expensive, exclusive Hebrew school) because there are children there who are Muslim, Jewish, possibly Buddhist, Baha'i, agnostic...

Nothing wrong with teaching morality and having an intelligent discussion on issues of right and wrong - and as far as prayer goes, if you want to give everyone a few moments in the morning to reflect upon their personal faith that's great.  Just don't demand that it be YOUR faith.


Nobody picks on Christians and nobody says you can't celebrate Christmas, even though Jesus was born in July and this holiday actually came from the Pagan ritual of the Solstice.  It just coincides nicely with that time when the days, once again, begin getting longer and the period of time when the economy needs a final boost before the year-end numbers come in.

Nobody is less cynical about Christmas, the Christ Child, Wonderful Christmas Lights, Manger Scenes, Menorahs and even the "holiday trappings" than I am.  It is a wonderful thing, as the year draws to a close, to remember friends and family, those with us and those who have passed on.  To spend time thinking of a gift that would light up the face of a loved one, or make them laugh or just remind them that they are loved is tremendous.  I love Christmas/Holiday music.  Now there's an area where the Jews could work on things a little more.  That Dreidle song kinda sucks. 

I'd like to actually give credit to Mr. Stein, though he didnt' intend for his words to so closely quoted.  Here is one of his final comments on our moral decline."Probably, if we think about it long and hard enough, we can figure it out.  I think it has a great deal to do with 'WE REAP WHAT WE SOW.' "

Yes, Mr. Stein, we reap what we sow.  And as to you and your ilk, the poor, the disenfranchised, even the middle class is reaping what you and your wealthy pals in the safe, upper 1% of the wealthy bestow upon us.  Meager existances, crappy jobs and little hope for the future.  As you write your Christmas Bla-de-Bla, let me tell you that we, like the Whos down in Whoeville will still celebrate Christmas.  Oh, there might be less lights and a lot less under the tree. 

There might be a chicken or even maybe a stew and a Cherry pie as a treat instead of the usual Christmas feast.  But there WILL be a Christmas because you and your friends don't get it and can't figure it out, much less stop it.  


Go open your garage to your new fancy-ass car with the bow.  It won't hold a candle to the WII game that Mom and Dad saved up for so that the entire family could share a gift.  Or the Christmas dinner to which countless numbers of us contributed so the folks down at the Denver Rescue Mission could feel safe and warm and human and wanted and cared for.  


You, Ben Stein, and Bill O'Reilly, and Glen Beck and Rush Limbaugh and the rest of your ilk will never know this feeling.

Well, there is my missive on the subject of Christ in Christmas.  Christ is the first half of the word.  Just don't try to squeeze Christ into Hanukkah or Kwanzaa or Solstice.  He doesn't, nor would he want to, fit there.  He's is as he always was.  Happy to be among us.  

Oh...Mom's response was:  "I AGREE WITH YOU ABOUT THE SPANKING."  Gotta love her.

A Flash from the Past

Here's my Christmas letter from 2005.  My, how life changes.  I guess that's why I'm doing this. I'm hoping I'll get some earlier ones, because I've been doing this since 1981...quite a story if I can gather them up.

Here's the 2005 Christmas Missive:

So here we are, my friends…another year disappeared and, in many ways, that’s not a bad thing.  It has been a year of trials, to be sure.  In January I was bitten by a brown recluse spider, near my eye on the side of my nose.  Talk about “while you were sleeping”! This led to a myriad of cascading problems including egg sized edemas on my forehead and face, holes being eaten into the side of my nose on the bite site, infections and hospital visits.  6 weeks of Prednisone had me hallucinating and packing on weight like a sumo wrestler.  I was unemployed for three months as I went from doctor to doctor, turning into a walking pharmacy, sedentary, sometimes bedridden, and forlorn.  The three remaining scars on my nose remind me on a daily basis that life can turn on a dime…or as swiftly as a spider in the night.

My beloved Jessica was diagnosed with aggressive cancer in March.  They predicted 2 months, and we opted for lots of love, painkillers, and anything she wanted, from ice cream to steak and everything in between.  We took walks in the park as a family until close to the end, then Ron took Tillie and Jessie and I slowly brought up the rear, at her pace.  She died on May 30^th, with all of us beside her, as she lay in her favorite place on the couch. 

I thought I’d take a good long time before bringing another dog into the family.  After all, Jessie had been my best friend for 11 years.  But Tillie and Louie mourned so dreadfully that I knew something had to be done.  I went to Petfinder and read a heartbreaking story about a little Pom.  She’d been thrown from a car on the freeway and some people following behind saw it, and picked her up.  They took her to animal control, and since she was hurt, they were going to kill her.  But a wonderful woman with a small animal rescue had taken her in. I believe that Jessie’s spirit guided me to her, because she and Tillie and Louie bonded immediately, and they became a family so quickly that it was amazing.  She’s just had surgery on her hip and knee and the doctors believe that she’ll regain full use of the leg.  So with Jessica’s spirit still in the house, we have a little family of five again.

I was lucky enough to see Jimmy and Danielle this summer, in DC…what a great trip.  A bonus was catching up with my incredible friend, Lee, and I stayed at his home in DC throughout the visit.  Jimmy and Danielle are wonderful, pursuing their interests and leading VERY full and busy lives.  Then it was on to Wisconsin, to see my family, where we caught up and had a lot of laughter and love.  Dad is 82, Mom will be 80 this February, and they are still vibrant, active and I thank God every day for their presence in my life.

So here I am in Denver, thanking God for Ron, who helps me get around and has been eternally patient and kind through all this awful stuff. And I do mean helping me get around.  Chronic pain (I believe brought on by that stinking spider) has caused my hips to enflame, and Docs aren’t coming up with much in the way of help so far.  I keep hoping.  It’s awful to look at the prospect of being sedentary at the age of 53.  If ANY of you know anything about chronic hip bursitis (we’ve tried all the conventional stuff, short of surgery,) email me or call me.  I’m desperate for something that works.  No physical therapy, because my insurance only covers 20 sessions and I’ve used them up. 

So what do I tell you this year?  What do I tell myself?  Do you remember the line “Greed is Good,” from the movie “Wallstreet”?  Well, I have to say that I agree.  Not the greed of the current administration, the wealthy pigs at the trough that only want more.  I mean greed for the important things.  Be greedy for your health…if you can get around, then GET AROUND.  You have no idea the frustration of not being able to take a nice long walk.  Be greedy for your friends…my friends, many of you, sat through midnight phone calls brought about by Prednisone panic attacks…without you, I would truly be poor.  Be greedy for time…time to think, time to play, time to pray.  Be greedy for the very air you breathe, and the blue sky.  Be greedy for laughter, and nonsense, and everything this life has to offer.  It can all be taken away so swiftly.  Develop your greed for honesty and integrity, and suck up faith and hope like the truly fine wines they are.

And since we celebrate the birth of Jesus, take his words to heart.  Not just that beautiful, dark skinned, dark haired baby who slept in that Middle Eastern barn so many years ago. Listen to His words.  Follow his teachings, be greedy for knowledge and discernment and truly follow Him, and you will not only have a happy life, but you will be saving the world for everyone.  I’ve included just a few of the many instructions given to us by the one we claim as Savior.  Think on these things, as will I.

And always remember that I love you.  Pray for me, I really, really need it.  And I will do the same for you.

Happy, Happy Christmas!  Let’s hope for a joyous new beginning in the coming year!

Love,

Patti, Ron, Tillie, Roxy and Louie the Great

***By the way, if anybody knows anything more about bursitis, I'm still open to ideas.  

More to come.