Okay it is really my bride's family since my side of the family has decided to call an end to the hostilities and not meet at all. But my bride's extended family on her mother's side gets together every year in Dublin, Texas. Yes, that Dublin Texas, home of the original Dr. Pepper. They still make and bottle the original recipe in the small 8 oz bottles with the cardboard six-pack carrier. I have sworn off most soft drinks, so when I taste one of these "originals" it can generate a diabetic shock on its own. There are always some stacked around, but I was not tempted.
At one end of the age spectrum is my bride's great uncle, Uncle Joe. 91, walks with a cane, never married. The family always attributed this to the "shell-shock" of WWII. I think he probably got back from WWII and decided one war in a lifetime was enough. When my bride was a little girl she was one of a dozen of the generation that traipsed around the countryside of Erath County with Uncle Joe. Swimming in the "jenny hole" crossing the train trestle nearby, and usually collecting a pretty good assortment of chigger and bug bites along the way. For her generation he is an icon of country wisdom. Aunt Jean (his slightly younger sister) is the only other sibling left of the original 12 kids. She is country and sometimes coarse and often crude, but honest and straight forward and makes me laugh. I hope if I am still around at that age I can keep the younger group laughing and honest. She raised three kids who are like her, rough, honest, and funny. I like them.
At the other end of the spectrum is my own 21 month old grandson, Lincoln. He was the charmer of the party, chasing around with my other grand kids Eli and Phoebe. So we had at least 5 generations there (only 32 people) All connected by family either of birth or marriage, notated by the long family tree chart that we were supposed to update with new births, deaths, and marriages. 5 generations.
As I watched these generations interact it occurred to me that as far as lifestyle was concerned, they had little in common. Uncle Joe and Jean were essentially farm people. Canning their own vegetables, catching/killing/butchering their own meat, making their clothes was familiar to them and foreign to rest of us. WWII was a tsunami of cultural change. Men returned from the war and most (unlike Uncle Joe) never returned to the farm. The entered "business" My dad came home and went to optometry college, my bride's father, though not in the military went into business. Each successive generation has moved further and further from the farm. We went from producing our own substances of life to paying others to produce it. Technology has moved us further from the interaction of substance of life to the multitasking of management over others producing for us.
All of this made me wonder if culturally we adapt as people to the societal change or do we change as people and thus change the culture. Would I have made a very good farmer? I love interaction with people, with new ideas, with new challenges. Would I have just been that farmer that was just annoying to all the quiet farmers? Or because I was already one generation removed from the farm that I adapted to a lifestyle that fit the moment? How will Eli and Phoebe and Lincoln and Isaac have to adapt? As a 21 month old, Lincoln knows the rudimentary advantages of his mother having an I-phone on which he can watch movies. Can Uncle Joe adapt to this new innovation, or should he? Probably not.
But fundamentally how does this change us? I read an article about a book from a guy named Nick Carr called The Shallows: How the Internet is Affecting our Minds The basic premise being that we as a culture have lost the ability to concentrate, to think, to muse. That the preeminent talent today is multitasking. This struck a chord with me because it seems to me that we have lost the importance of being discerning. We communicate in soundbites, we think in bumper stickers, our relationships are paper thin and a mile wide.
I am going with my kids on a trip next week. Can I go the entire week without my Blackberry?(yes, it is old technology) my laptop? Facebook? LinkedIn? Can I unplug for 5 days? It makes me queasy thinking about it. But more importantly, can I spend a portion of each day in silence? in meditation? musing? wondering? reflecting? Which life would Uncle Joe understand best? Is there a value in teaching each of my grand kids to think, to wonder, to sit and ponder?
Family reunions may be the last place where all these generations come together for one last look at what has been, and to wonder what will be.
Godspeed again, the journey continues.
Don
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Old Friends
It seems over the past few years my bride and I have come across the friends we accumulated through the years. Facebook has reconnected us to high school friends and people we barely knew from high school. Circumstances have brought us together through college reunions and events that we knew from those formative college days, more years ago than I care to admit. One looked me up to ask for the phone number of another..should my feelings be hurt? Naw, he was like that in college. He wouldn't get it.
Let me say that we have all changed. For some reason the guys, though older, I can more easily recognize. Some of the women I couldn't pick out of a line up. By and large we have all gained a few pounds, we have all gotten grayer, our bodies have shifted. All of us carry scars from the battles fought in business, in church, in families, and in marriage. Some of the folks we knew as young couples are couples no more. Some have taken a mulligan in that arena and we recognize them even less. Most of us have kids that had kids, and the constant seems to be the worry over them all. There are constants that work for each one of us, death, loss, worry mingled and mixed with joy, contentment, and settlement.
This past week we were able to spend a few precious hours with some friends that we have known for years. My friend Don and I met when we were in about the 6th grade. Even though he moved away in high school, we kept up and remained good friends through college and all the years since then. When and he and Gay met, she blended right in with our crowd. So we had some time to sit and visit about all the circling constellations of our lives. Sitting on their deck overlooking the lake, drinking a really good cab and just connecting.
So how does this happen? How can we miss some really important years in each other's lives, then pick up like we had only missed them last weekend? Nothing had changed. The jokes were funny (cab talking?) We were able to open the locked closet of fear and anguish and let each other peek inside. We saw and I'm sure they saw the continued smoking cannons from our marriage wars. How can this be? There have been some desperate times in their marriage and in ours, yet the bond felt as close and tight as ever. Why do we blend some people even in face of absence, and can't make that bond with people we see everyday? I will tell you there is only a very small hand full of people who fit this category for me. Perhaps it is as simple as my inability to have and to hold close a great number of friends. We have some friends now in our lives that I feel is as close as my own biological family. If we were to be separated through life events, then reunite way down the road, it would only be a moment to reconnect. But these people are far fewer than you would imagine.
On the other hand, there are people that we were once close to that we can't seem to regarner the feeling. They have grown old and odd to us. They have strange pastimes and their kids have strange lives. I'm sure we look as strange to them as they do to us. Getting glimpses of the old high school friends has been an eye-opener. Reunion is next year and looking less and less likely.
Is this just me? I don't think so. For whatever reason we seem to connect to some people for the remainder of our lives. Perhaps it is a soul thing. Perhaps it is a training thing. Or maybe it is just the oddity of life that happens with no specific explanation. Maybe we will have adjoining rooms in heaven. Who knows?
Godspeed, this journey loops and cuts back on itself so we can see the beauty of a life spent with friends.
Don
Let me say that we have all changed. For some reason the guys, though older, I can more easily recognize. Some of the women I couldn't pick out of a line up. By and large we have all gained a few pounds, we have all gotten grayer, our bodies have shifted. All of us carry scars from the battles fought in business, in church, in families, and in marriage. Some of the folks we knew as young couples are couples no more. Some have taken a mulligan in that arena and we recognize them even less. Most of us have kids that had kids, and the constant seems to be the worry over them all. There are constants that work for each one of us, death, loss, worry mingled and mixed with joy, contentment, and settlement.
This past week we were able to spend a few precious hours with some friends that we have known for years. My friend Don and I met when we were in about the 6th grade. Even though he moved away in high school, we kept up and remained good friends through college and all the years since then. When and he and Gay met, she blended right in with our crowd. So we had some time to sit and visit about all the circling constellations of our lives. Sitting on their deck overlooking the lake, drinking a really good cab and just connecting.
So how does this happen? How can we miss some really important years in each other's lives, then pick up like we had only missed them last weekend? Nothing had changed. The jokes were funny (cab talking?) We were able to open the locked closet of fear and anguish and let each other peek inside. We saw and I'm sure they saw the continued smoking cannons from our marriage wars. How can this be? There have been some desperate times in their marriage and in ours, yet the bond felt as close and tight as ever. Why do we blend some people even in face of absence, and can't make that bond with people we see everyday? I will tell you there is only a very small hand full of people who fit this category for me. Perhaps it is as simple as my inability to have and to hold close a great number of friends. We have some friends now in our lives that I feel is as close as my own biological family. If we were to be separated through life events, then reunite way down the road, it would only be a moment to reconnect. But these people are far fewer than you would imagine.
On the other hand, there are people that we were once close to that we can't seem to regarner the feeling. They have grown old and odd to us. They have strange pastimes and their kids have strange lives. I'm sure we look as strange to them as they do to us. Getting glimpses of the old high school friends has been an eye-opener. Reunion is next year and looking less and less likely.
Is this just me? I don't think so. For whatever reason we seem to connect to some people for the remainder of our lives. Perhaps it is a soul thing. Perhaps it is a training thing. Or maybe it is just the oddity of life that happens with no specific explanation. Maybe we will have adjoining rooms in heaven. Who knows?
Godspeed, this journey loops and cuts back on itself so we can see the beauty of a life spent with friends.
Don
Thursday, June 9, 2011
He is Everywhere
We have made the pilgrimage to Amarillo for the my eldest grandson's birthday. We drove out with my youngest daughter and her son, my bride, and myself. It is not what one could describe as "scenic". Unless you like flat, brown, and boring. But the invention of CD players in cars and all the great animated classics (Toy Story, Cars, and Incredibles) the ride seems to move along at a snail's pace, and not like a glacier.
We arrived and unloaded. Then spent the afternoon and evening unwinding, getting dinner prepared, and visiting. By 10PM I was cooked, done. So off to bed I went.
This morning I was up before the herd was stirring. So I poured a mug of coffee, properly doctored with creamer and went outside to enjoy the cool morning.
What started out a reflection was turned again into a small, quiet moment of praise. The chorus ringing through my head, "I exalt thee, I exalt thee, I exalt thee Oh Lord." The music is wonderful, the words a great calm on my heart. The ever-present cool, high-country breeze only making the morning deep and quiet. There is something unchanging about the high plains, a sort of flowing constant, and ever-present.
It was then that I realized that God is either everywhere, or we carry Him with us wherever we go. I have sat next to lakes and watched the sun emerge over the far shore and dapple the water. There have been times on the side of mountains with friends from long ago where the air was thin and pure..and He was present. There have been hotel rooms far from home on work trips.. and He was there. Mission trips in foreign lands knowing that the work that day would be hard, with sore muscles and peaceful heart.. and He was there. There have been hospitals and dark nights, funeral homes, and empty tombs..and He was there. He apparently is everywhere, because I have found in those moments that I am just as apt to close my heart and not feel Him near me at all. I do not believe that our inability to fully understand will keep us from Him. I believe it our ability to ignore Him is what will doom us. You see in this moment in my life where it feels that I have been wandering in the wilderness He is there when I open the eyes to my heart. As A grandaddy I watch my grandkids with joy, and humor, and concern, and compassion. It makes my heart leap when they jump into my arms and acknowledge our special bond. There is nothing that sinks my heart like being ignored by my grandkids. I think this is a close feeling that God carries for His children.
Anyway, a few moments well spent this morning.
Godspeed, there is nothing like a cool morning, anticipation of the day, and God being near.
Don
We arrived and unloaded. Then spent the afternoon and evening unwinding, getting dinner prepared, and visiting. By 10PM I was cooked, done. So off to bed I went.
This morning I was up before the herd was stirring. So I poured a mug of coffee, properly doctored with creamer and went outside to enjoy the cool morning.
What started out a reflection was turned again into a small, quiet moment of praise. The chorus ringing through my head, "I exalt thee, I exalt thee, I exalt thee Oh Lord." The music is wonderful, the words a great calm on my heart. The ever-present cool, high-country breeze only making the morning deep and quiet. There is something unchanging about the high plains, a sort of flowing constant, and ever-present.
It was then that I realized that God is either everywhere, or we carry Him with us wherever we go. I have sat next to lakes and watched the sun emerge over the far shore and dapple the water. There have been times on the side of mountains with friends from long ago where the air was thin and pure..and He was present. There have been hotel rooms far from home on work trips.. and He was there. Mission trips in foreign lands knowing that the work that day would be hard, with sore muscles and peaceful heart.. and He was there. There have been hospitals and dark nights, funeral homes, and empty tombs..and He was there. He apparently is everywhere, because I have found in those moments that I am just as apt to close my heart and not feel Him near me at all. I do not believe that our inability to fully understand will keep us from Him. I believe it our ability to ignore Him is what will doom us. You see in this moment in my life where it feels that I have been wandering in the wilderness He is there when I open the eyes to my heart. As A grandaddy I watch my grandkids with joy, and humor, and concern, and compassion. It makes my heart leap when they jump into my arms and acknowledge our special bond. There is nothing that sinks my heart like being ignored by my grandkids. I think this is a close feeling that God carries for His children.
Anyway, a few moments well spent this morning.
Godspeed, there is nothing like a cool morning, anticipation of the day, and God being near.
Don
Thursday, June 2, 2011
ER..
You miss a couple of weeks and the world changes. Blogspot had a problem, so I couldn't write the blog. Several things happened that I wanted to write about, but I was unable to, then lost interest. For whatever reason I didn't visit Facebook either, mostly due to just being in a funk. But below are a few hospital observations.
Spent the best part of the day in the ER a couple of weeks ago with Atrial Fibrillation. Never happened before, probably won't happen again. But now I am "in the system" The cardiologists are all over me. You have to understand that in the last 57 years the only hospital stays for me have been one event in childhood where they removed my tonsils. The other was 15 years ago when I had a virus that mimicked heart problems. The second event was more fun because they introduced me to morphine. Now there is a drug! You may still feel bad, but YOU DON'T CARE!
Here are my observations about ER from the perspective of a 57 year old guy with grey hair:
When you walk in complaining of chest pains, they move you to front of the line. No taking a number. She called an orderly to come get me and move me to a room right next to the nurse's station. Customer service in the medical industry is never at a higher level than in this singular instance.
Secondly, there is a fascination with my name and birth date. Every single person asked these two questions: What is your name? What is your birth date? After the fourth one, I wanted to tell them, "Write this down, share it with all your friends, Stop asking me!" I'm stuck here with an IV, pressure cup, heart monitor, and sticky electrodes from the EKG. Somewhere someone has my name and birth date. I considered giving them a false name or making up a birth date, but I was afraid it would delay my release.
Third, when the ER doc asked me when all this started, my bride was sitting in the room trying to control her panic and dealing with my kids, who were all calling and texting, it occurred to me that I had not mentioned to her that it probably started about midnight the night before. Particularly since we worked out at our usual 4:30AM, and I only then mentioned that I did not feel well. She was not going to be happy that this was the first time hearing it. So my quandary is this: Do I lie to the doc? or tell the truth and catch a LOT of mischief from my bride...hmmm. Reluctantly I told the truth, saw the lovely jaw set,knew that any heart condition was the least of my worries.
Fourth, I have a theory about hospitals. If you keep your clothes on, including shoes, they have to let you go home. Right? So kept my jeans on, my workout shoes, lost my shirt when they did the EKG, but kept all else intact. My youngest kept asking how I could be comfortable in jeans on a hospital bed. Comfort is not the issue, escape is the primary focus.
Finally, at the end of the day, after two IVs, sitting strapped to all kinds of monitoring equipment, I needed to hit the restroom. I called the nurse, they were working on my discharge papers. 20 minutes later still no nurse. My youngest went to track her down, the nurse was on her way. 10 minutes later when she showed up, she started unhooking all the paraphernalia then became transfixed by the story on the TV about the little boy found dead in Maine by his N. Texas mother. The nurse literally stopped moving and stared at the TV with her hands at her side. Meanwhile, I am squirming like a little boy on a long car ride. Get me unhooked or go get a mop! Like a dog let out of a kennel, as soon as the last constraint was removed I bolted for the john. Whew, it was close.
6PM headed home. Starving. We stopped and got me a loaded baked potato. Heaven.
A-fib is uncomfortable, but imminently manageable. What disheartened me about the entire day was the emotional harm on my bride. She handled it like the combat veteran she is, but it twisted my heart to realize I had caused this trauma. As we were going out the door at the house she put her fingers to her lips,as if trying to stifle a scream. Guilt washed over me like never before. Oh we have taken chunks out of each other in our 36 years together, but to harm is always a trauma for me. How could I say I was sorry for something I couldn't control? Emotions are funny things, they just show up, unbidden and unwanted. They are what they are. This is probably the only lasting damage done, to scare her with the unknown, the uncontrolled.
Anyway, the heart is fine. A lot of people out there probably are glad to realize I have one. Wore a monitor for 24 hours, tracking my heart rate, etc. I tried to get my bride to participate in a little action, just to see if we could set the thing off, a firm "no". Stress test next week. As if our lives alone aren't stress enough.
Godspeed, the journey is rejoined. The heart is good, I hope, not in the physical sense, but the integrity sense.
Don
Spent the best part of the day in the ER a couple of weeks ago with Atrial Fibrillation. Never happened before, probably won't happen again. But now I am "in the system" The cardiologists are all over me. You have to understand that in the last 57 years the only hospital stays for me have been one event in childhood where they removed my tonsils. The other was 15 years ago when I had a virus that mimicked heart problems. The second event was more fun because they introduced me to morphine. Now there is a drug! You may still feel bad, but YOU DON'T CARE!
Here are my observations about ER from the perspective of a 57 year old guy with grey hair:
When you walk in complaining of chest pains, they move you to front of the line. No taking a number. She called an orderly to come get me and move me to a room right next to the nurse's station. Customer service in the medical industry is never at a higher level than in this singular instance.
Secondly, there is a fascination with my name and birth date. Every single person asked these two questions: What is your name? What is your birth date? After the fourth one, I wanted to tell them, "Write this down, share it with all your friends, Stop asking me!" I'm stuck here with an IV, pressure cup, heart monitor, and sticky electrodes from the EKG. Somewhere someone has my name and birth date. I considered giving them a false name or making up a birth date, but I was afraid it would delay my release.
Third, when the ER doc asked me when all this started, my bride was sitting in the room trying to control her panic and dealing with my kids, who were all calling and texting, it occurred to me that I had not mentioned to her that it probably started about midnight the night before. Particularly since we worked out at our usual 4:30AM, and I only then mentioned that I did not feel well. She was not going to be happy that this was the first time hearing it. So my quandary is this: Do I lie to the doc? or tell the truth and catch a LOT of mischief from my bride...hmmm. Reluctantly I told the truth, saw the lovely jaw set,knew that any heart condition was the least of my worries.
Fourth, I have a theory about hospitals. If you keep your clothes on, including shoes, they have to let you go home. Right? So kept my jeans on, my workout shoes, lost my shirt when they did the EKG, but kept all else intact. My youngest kept asking how I could be comfortable in jeans on a hospital bed. Comfort is not the issue, escape is the primary focus.
Finally, at the end of the day, after two IVs, sitting strapped to all kinds of monitoring equipment, I needed to hit the restroom. I called the nurse, they were working on my discharge papers. 20 minutes later still no nurse. My youngest went to track her down, the nurse was on her way. 10 minutes later when she showed up, she started unhooking all the paraphernalia then became transfixed by the story on the TV about the little boy found dead in Maine by his N. Texas mother. The nurse literally stopped moving and stared at the TV with her hands at her side. Meanwhile, I am squirming like a little boy on a long car ride. Get me unhooked or go get a mop! Like a dog let out of a kennel, as soon as the last constraint was removed I bolted for the john. Whew, it was close.
6PM headed home. Starving. We stopped and got me a loaded baked potato. Heaven.
A-fib is uncomfortable, but imminently manageable. What disheartened me about the entire day was the emotional harm on my bride. She handled it like the combat veteran she is, but it twisted my heart to realize I had caused this trauma. As we were going out the door at the house she put her fingers to her lips,as if trying to stifle a scream. Guilt washed over me like never before. Oh we have taken chunks out of each other in our 36 years together, but to harm is always a trauma for me. How could I say I was sorry for something I couldn't control? Emotions are funny things, they just show up, unbidden and unwanted. They are what they are. This is probably the only lasting damage done, to scare her with the unknown, the uncontrolled.
Anyway, the heart is fine. A lot of people out there probably are glad to realize I have one. Wore a monitor for 24 hours, tracking my heart rate, etc. I tried to get my bride to participate in a little action, just to see if we could set the thing off, a firm "no". Stress test next week. As if our lives alone aren't stress enough.
Godspeed, the journey is rejoined. The heart is good, I hope, not in the physical sense, but the integrity sense.
Don
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