September: Continued Reconstruction
Looking Beyond the Visible

The September page has come late... Here in Seattle it is already becoming fall, the time of change, the time of moving on, the time of a different sort of renewal. There is more coming...

ALCOHOLISM... it is a big word, a very big word. It holds and encompasses so many, many things, things that people who have not lived with it cannot wrap their minds around.

My daughter is home, she was discharged from treatment prematurely, they felt they could not manage her. But she has become a new person, she is growing, accepting everything that is her self over time, she is trying to return home. She has been clean and sober 6 days now, and has been clean and sober, I believe, all but one of the last 28 days. She is doing this the only way it really works- she is doing this by shear will and determination. She wants her life back. And as I watch her talk animatedly, laugh, take compliments, and listen, really listen, and then reflect, I am watching her be born again, and my daughter is returning to my home, after being gone for three years. She is here today, today is all I know about. I can only take this one day at a time, time is in charge and I do not know where it is taking me or my daughter- despite my hopes and dreams I can only shape today as best I can.

"There were times we feared we'd never survive an experience. Perhaps we still struggle with fears about new experiences. But every experience adds a necessary thread to the pattern our life is weaving. We have the gift of reflection. We can understand, today, the importance of particular events of the past. Next month, next year, we'll understand today."- from EACH DAY A NEW BEGINNING, Hazelden Books

What a strange pattern the shuttle of life can weave.- Frances Marion

Prior to 9/11/01 I just had a couple of web pages with pictures of friends, family and places, then, for some reason, I started writing regularly on 9/11, adding pictures and pages, and then a home page, and then a real web site... Here are excerpts from the first two pages of my web site, from last September and October:

9/11/01: it is a scarey day

9/12/01: The weather here [in Seattle] has been absolutely gorgeous, what strange juxtapositions life presents us on these days of deep tragedy...
9/16/01: "Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak, whispers the o'erfraught heart, and bids it break."- William Shakespeare
It is a thin line, the one between good and evil, and it exists in the heart of every human. God allows evil by allowing each of us the free will to determine which side of the line we align our actions with. Let the triad of Abrahamin religions (Judaism, Christian, and Muslim) unite in free will, on the side of good.
9/20/01: The one place that people of the world could count on to be safe, is no longer so. As much as other countries have found America to be irritating in its arrogance and greed, it has always been a symbol of hope and freedom for everyone. The terror of 9/11/01 strikes at the heart of all mankind, and the planet grieves at its loss of innocence.
9/23/01: Our future has always been uncertain, only now it is more so.
10/6/01: Separation of Church and State. These words, this idea now burns in my mind. Conflicts in our world today so often occur between countries and between factions within countries that decry the other's religion, that set themselves against the other because their way of being spiritual is RIGHT. Separation of Church and State, separation of beliefs from the right to live, separation of religious practice from control, separation of control from beliefs, from what an individual has determined within themselves to be the truth, allows the multiple religions in the Untied States to peacefully co-exist, as there is no other way but to exist peacefully with this ideal in practice, the Separation of Church and State. This is an important lesson, that the fight for freedom is exactly that, the fight for freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom of thought. Millions practice the Moslem faith in the "Western" setting, millions practice it there because of freedom. Islam and "Western" are not mutally exclusive, because "Western" is freedom for all religions. Separation of Church and State, the very foundation of freedom from tyranny. There can be no prayer in schools, teaching of creation, etc. without eroding this so very precious protection.
10/7/01: We wake to find out that the bombing of Afganistan has begun, our perilous path continues.
We continue to go about the mundane [tasks of life], with current world events as a constant worry on our shoulder.
10/18/01: More cases of anthrax, lots of fear, worry about smallpox... and where is it coming from? Perhaps within our own country, perhaps from terrorists. The US is working with and getting support from Russia, the world has certainly gone mad. Developed countries want to maintain their economies, want to maintain their standard of living, want to be at least minimally safe. We are the same more than we are different. The economic powerhouse of the world must be kept safe enough to keep the world economy going- bringing even strange bedfellows together. Perhaps materialism is constructive after all, perhaps is the unifying principal bringing the countries of the world together.
10/20/01: Two American soldiers died yesterday in a helicopter crash in Pakistan, two others died earlier this week in accidents that happened where they were stationed near Afganistan. We catch our collective breath when these announcements are made; we are hoping that the realities of war can somehow be avoided as we proceed on our perious path. It is very interesting for me to contrast my feelings and perceptions this time with others in my lifetime, especially those during the Vietnam War. Life never ceases to amaze, it is a veritable treasure chest of unusual finds, some which you never intended to find...
10/21/01: The Qur'an says that evil whispers in the hearts of men. Yes, and sometimes it roars.
Take the link: isiah.com (link brought to you by Grappler).
10/25/01: I'd love to change the world, if I only could. But I don't know what to do,
so I leave it up to you. -Ten Years After
Remember that song? In some ways very little has changed in the last 30 years, there are still many things disturbing about our world, many things we'd like change, yet how to go about it? Unfortunately, or fortunately, our world is very complex, change is not simple, its effect can be multiple and unpredictable. Change is really only evident when one looks backwards; this is a very different world than the one I was born into, wonderful societal changes have occurred, yet difficult things still confront us. Perhaps the world is still evolving.

9/11/02: So, so now it is one year later... most of us are still here, peace is still not imminent, and we are still cringing with anticipation of another attack... It is hard to gauge the lasting impact 9/11/01 will have had on the American psyche- maybe in five years I will write some ideas down...

So, today we have today, period. We are not guaranteed tomorrow. Things we would like to experience and plan to experience may not happen. It is easy to, but don't forget to say and do today what needs to be said and done, just in case there is no tomorrow. Take it while you can...

This is an "R" rated section, so avert your eyes if needed...





So, what is the deal with this picture at the left anyway? Just an attractive young woman, right?

Ken is taken with her outfit, and Will has made no comments about it- perhaps that is the answer, after all...

We all need some sparkle in our lives...

Click on the picture of Fiver from Watership Down and he will take you to a site with sparkle for you...

(Fiver is cowering because he does not understand the sparkles...)

Hmmm..... CLICK ME....

Andy Rooney's comments on older women...
"As I grow in age, I value older women most of all. Here are just a few reasons why:

An older woman will never wake you in the middle of the night to ask, 'What are you thinking?' She doesn't care what you think.

An older woman knows herself well enough to be assured in who she is, what she is, what she wants and from whom.

Older women are dignified. They seldom have a screaming match with you at the opera or in the middle of an expensive restaurant. Of course, if you deserve it, they won't hesitate to shoot you if they think they can get away with it.

Once you get past a wrinkle or two, an older woman is far sexier than her younger counterpart. Her libido's stronger, and her fear of pregnancy gone. Her experience of lovemaking is honed and reciprocal and she's lived long enough to know how to please a man in ways her daughter could never dream of.

Most older women cook well. They care about cleanliness and are generous with praise, often undeserved.

An older woman has the self-assurance to introduce you to her women friends. A younger woman with a man will often ignore even her best friend because she doesn't trust the guy with other women.

Women get psychic as they age. You never have to confess your sins to an older woman. They always know.

An older woman looks good wearing bright red lipstick. This is not true of younger women or drag queens.

Older women are forthright and honest. They'll tell you right off you are a jerk if you are acting like one.

Yes, we praise older women for a multitude of reasons. Unfortunately, it's not reciprocal. For every stunning, smart, well-coifed babe of 50 there is a bald, paunchy relic in yellow pants making a fool of himself with some 22 year old waitress.

Ladies, I apologize for all of us."
Signed: Andy Rooney

Time Magazine, August 12, 2002:

Camp Heartland

For a rare moment, kids growing up in the shadow of HIV and AIDS shed the secrecy and shame of their illness and enjoy some good old summertime fun. BY RON STODGHILL

"It feels terrible to have AIDS because my tummy hurts a lot, and because if my friends found out, they wouldn't play with me anymore."-- Tanya, 6

No one thought HIV babies would live long enough for anything, let alone summer camp. But there are now more than 10,000 children in the U.S. infected since birth with the AIDS virus who have grown up desperate for a chance to get away from the insularity of their illness. A lucky few find that reprieve for a week every summer at Camp Heartland, where they escape their outsider status to enjoy the simple pleasures of...

"When I was born, the doctors said I wouldn't live past two. They were wrong."-- Stacy, 14

"You want to stop taking the medicines and stop doing all of the other stuff, but if you stop taking the medicine, you could die. So you can't stop."-- Yolanda, 13

Time Magazine had this interesting and touching article in their August 12th issue. It is funny how much children teach us all of the time...

You can order the article from Time's site: CLICK
or you can look around your doctor's office like I did... :)

I first started working in social services at Ypsilanti State Hospital in Michigan in 1975, as a kind of fluke. I had taken every state employment test I qualified for the last couple of winters in hope of getting a summer job between semesters and the summer before had worked on a survey crew for the highway department. When they called me for the interview at the state hospital I kind of cringed but thought "what the hell", figuring it would be weird but paid decent money... When I interviewed they asked me what I knew about working at such places and I told them that I had read One Flew Over the Kukoo's Nest and they just nodded- I think that they had no idea what that book was.

I worked there as an Attendant Nurse from that time until late 1981- YIKES!- finishing my Bachelor's degree in 1977 and staying on because the job was easy and paid well. "Ypsi" was quite an experience. I worked on several different wards, some of which made the ward in Kukoo's Nest look actually therapeutic. On one all male ward there were large "dorm" rooms with maybe 20 guys in them and working the night shift I found that they were hearded into the rooms in the evening by that shift and the doors were locked, being left locked for the night. There was no bathroom access for the patients. In the morning the doors would be unlocked and urine soaked men would come out, there would be a lake of urine on floor. It was very interesting. On the same ward was a client who had a foot fetish and in the morning, when he was allowed out and about, and he would periodically reach out to my foot, wanting to touch my shoes. On the same ward the supervisor slapped one of the patients about one morning- seems the patient had filed a complaint about one of the other workers being abusive and the supervisor did not like that... yes, very interesting.

I also worked on a geriatric ward for quite a while, again on the night shift, and I remember the first patient I ran across having the diagnosis of Alzheimer's Disease and his chart was flagged with that because they were not sure at that time if it was transmittable... he had been sent home once but returned after shooting his wife... One of my favorite patients was an elderly black man from the south, tall and strapping, who would walk around saying "cotton" all the time, and a sweet little confused lady who would stand in the hallway at night saying her mom had sent her out to catch the school bus...

So, how I ever ended up staying in the field is still a bit of a mystery, perhaps mostly a kind of personal inertia. In observing the professional staff I noted that the nurses had to work all shifts, weekends and holidays while the social workers worked days, Monday-Friday... hmmm.

If you click on the picture of "Ypsi" above it will take you to a site about historic "insane asylums".

If you click on the "gears in motion" at left it will link you to a video of pictures of Ypsi patients taken by a friend of mine way back when... in the '70s.
(Click "cancel" and then "exit" for the RealPlayer prompts, if you get them...)

Out of every crisis comes the chance to be reborn, to reconceive ourselves as individuals, to choose the kind of change that will help us to grow and to fulfill ourselves more completely.
-- Nena O'Neil


CELEBRATING CONTINUED SOBRIETY...

Marty Witt, formerly Marty Abbott, Class of 1971 Ann Arbor, Michigan turns 49 today, September 23, 2002. We are glad she made it, glad for her company, her humor, her kindness, her wisdom and caring. Here's hoping for the best year yet for you... Happy Birthday Marty.

I may not be totally perfect, but parts of me are excellent.
-- Ashleigh Brilliant

During the week I went to a book store in Lake Forest Park at the little mall they have there and saw cowboy poet Baxter Black tell some of his stories and talk about his new book Horseshoes, Cowsocks and Duckfeet. Baxter talks regularly on NPR and has an amusing wit. If you click on his picture here it will take you to his main web site and if you there click on the link for his weekly columns and then click on the link for the Amarillo paper (or click here: http://www.amarillonet.com/baxterblack/) you can read some of his articles.

I do commentary on National Public Radio headquartered in Washington, D.C. It is heavily urban in listenership. Some have questioned why NPR includes my commentaries. So have I. When I asked, the producer said, "Because you're the only one we know ... from out there."

Out there. Where exactly is ... out there?

Third Place Books is a great place- my friend Marty tried to get me to go there a long time ago but I never made it... They have a full schedule every month of authors, music and community events, held right there in the book store in a small staged area, with food booths too...

Click the picture at right of the store and it will link you to their web site with calendar info... Check it out. Later...

You must do the thing that you think you cannot do.- Eleanor Roosevelt

Eleanor was a cool lady, she is helping me celebrate my daughter's continued sobriety. I thank all of my friends for their thoughts and prayers; this is a lifetime struggle so keep them coming, please... and just keep on breathing.

Recently my lovely friend Barbara made a significant change in her work life. It was a difficult decision for her, one which she gave a lot of thought to. As part of her decision-making process she held a seance, devining the future through the spirits (after all she is a very spirited girl!)...


AH HA! Yes, once Barbara gets it, it is there to stay. And once she gets it she is a bit smug, and kind of vixen-like, if you know what I mean...


With decision in hand, Barbara informed our boss, Thomas, of what she was up to. He, like the rest of us, was devasted. Then the full impact dawned upon the both of them, as you can see. Yes, the weight of the world is, well, pretty damn weighty.

Barbara decided to move on to greener pastures, to leave my work unit. The *itch... How is is it that she can so cavalierly leave us, those friends and co-workers who love her dearly, who depend upon her skill, knowledge, and good cheer to brighten our work lives? Oh well, she is gone and now resides two whole cubicle rows away, an eternity away...

I received this in an email from a neighbor of my mother; I am not sure about its veracity, but it has some good thoughts:

The Old Lady's Treasure

When an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital near Dundee, Scotland, it was felt that she had nothing left of value. Later, when the nurses were going through her meager possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital. One nurse took her copy to Ireland. The old lady's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the North Ireland Association for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on her simple, but eloquent, poem. ...And this little old Scottish lady, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this "anonymous" poem winging across the Internet. Goes to show that we all leave some footprints in time.

An Old Lady's Poem

What do you see, nurses, what do you see?
What are you thinking when you're looking at me?
A crabby old woman, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles her food and makes no reply
When you say in a loud voice, "I do wish you'd try!"
Who seems not to notice the things that you do,
And forever is losing a stocking or shoe..…
Who, resisting or not, lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill.…
Is that what you're thinking? Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse; you're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am as I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, as I eat at your swill.
I'm a small child of ten...with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters, who love one another.
A young girl of sixteen, with wings on her feet,
Dreaming that soon now a lover she'll meet.
A bride soon at twenty -- my heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows that I promised to keep.
At twenty-five now, I have young of my own,
Who need me to guide and a secure happy home.
A woman of thirty, my young now grown fast,
Bound to each other with ties that should last.
At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone,
But my man's beside me to see I don't mourn.
At fifty once more, babies play round my knee,
Again we know children, my loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead;
I look at the future, I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing young of their own,
And I think of the years and the love that I've known.
I'm now an old woman...and nature is cruel;
'Tis jest to make old age look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles, grace and vigor depart,
There is now a stone where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass a young girl still dwells,
And now and again my battered heart swells.
I remember the joys, I remember the pain,
And I'm loving and living life over again.
I think of the years ....all too few, gone too fast,
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, nurses, open and see,
Not a crabby old woman; look closer...see ME!!

Remember this poem when you next meet an old person who you might rush by, without looking at the young soul within...

If you have comments on my topics or content, please send them to me at:

Comments received from responding humans and my responses can be accessed by clicking on the picture of Ken's 1962 Wheel Horse Garden Tractor at left; Ken was the originator of the idea for this...

CLICK for ongoing writings/quotes from JUDITH VIORST'S book: Necessary Losses
(Last Added to 9/25/02...)

Music: Click on Lips (Should be loaded about the 3rd try...) John Prine, "Take a Look at My Heart" Page Created September 2002