On Your Own Terms

This poem was recently published in JAMA.

On Your Own Terms

At least you meet new words—
adipose, ischemia, proctitis,
cystitis, fistula, tenesmus—
those Greek and Latinate poseurs,
purveyors of what passes for
intelligence and class. Who
would have thought that
you would be
intimate with that crowd,
intermingling with such foreigners
as ureter and sphincter,
rectum and urethra,
at this cocktail party of
the pompous and obsequious.
Me, I’d rather be
monosyllabic, dumb,
outside in the garden,
hobnobbing with the common folk,
gabbing with the simple words
like good, and health, and hope.

Ronald Wallace
Madison, WI

Mothers

Ok, here it is, "Good Mother" by Jann Arden. This just about sums it up, that is, how I feel about my Mom. And by good, I mean good in the deepest philosophical sense....

I’ve got money in my pocket
I like the color of my hair
I’ve got a friend who loves me
Got a house, I’ve got a car
I’ve got a good mother
and her voice is what keeps me here

Feet on ground
Heart in hand
Facing forward
Be yourself
I’ve never wanted anything
No I’ve, no I’ve, I’ve never wanted anything
so bad...so bad

Cardboard masks of all the people
I’ve been
thrown out with all the rusted, tangled
dented God Damned miseries
You could say I’m hard to hold
But if you knew me you’d know
I’ve got a good father
And his strength is what makes me cry

Feet on ground
Heart in hand
Facing forward
Be yourself
I’ve never wanted anything
No I’ve, no I’ve, I’ve never
wanted anything so bad...
so bad

I’ve got money in my pocket
I like the color of my hair
I’ve got a friend who loves me
Got a house, I’ve got a car
I’ve got a good mother
and her voice is what keeps me here

Feet on ground
Heart in hand
Facing forward
Be yourself

Heart in hand
Feet on ground
Facing forward
Be yourself
just be yourself
just be yourself

Feet on ground
Heart in hand
Feet on ground
Heart in hand

Daughters

This is one of my favorite songs, and the other night it won a
grammy!  I never had a chance to play it for my Dad, but I know
he would have loved it.  He was so good to his girls, always.

Soon I'll post one of my other favorite songs about Mothers by
Jann Arden, but until now, take a gander at John Mayer's "Daughters"

I know a girl
She puts the color inside of my world
But she's just like a maze
Where all of the walls all continually change
And I've done all I can
To stand on the steps with my heart in my hands
Now I'm starting to see
Maybe it's got nothing to do with me

Fathers be good to your daughters,
Daughters will love like you do,
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers be good to your daughters too

Oh, you see that skin?
It's the same shes been standing in
Since the day she saw him walking away
Now shes left
Cleaning up the mess he made

So fathers be good to your daughters,
Daughters will love like you do, yeah
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers be good to your daughters too

Boys you can break
You'll find out how much they can take
Boys will be strong and
Boys soldier on
But boys would be gone
without warmth from
A woman's good, good heart

On behalf of every man
Looking out for every girl
You are the god and the weight of her world

So fathers be good to your daughters,
Daughters will love like you do, yeah
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers be good to your daughters too

The Mother of Eight

On Monday morning Michelle, who was the mother of eight children from ages 2-15, died from cardiac arrest. Her husband is a physician so I am sure that as she arrested in the early morning hours he knew from the very start that he would loose her. She had had cancer, but was doing very well so this was quite a shock.

I didn't know Michelle very well. And as I am terrible with names I had a difficult time picturing her when I heard of her death. But then I put the name and the face together. She will be forever in my mind...

I distinctly remember chatting with Michelle on a warm day sitting outside in the country at the Novititate of the Community of St. John. We had never really spoken at length, though we had seen each other many times at Community functions. I looked over and noticed that Michelle was wearing a "Circle of Life" bracelet. These bracelets were sold in the 1970s to protest the passage of Roe v. Wade and they were modeled after the Vietnam POW bracelets that had been so popular. Michelle was the only person I ever saw wearing one of those bracelets other than my Dad. My Dad always wore the bracelet, vowing not to remove it until Roe v. Wade was overturned, she had made the same vow.

Now Michelle is in heaven and I'm sure that she has met my Dad and they are talking about those bracelets, and working together against Roe v. Wade.

As hard as it was to loose my Dad I cannot imagine what Michelle's children and husband must be feeling. Please keep them all in your prayers.

UPDATE: A friend who attended the funeral this morning called to say she was glad I didn't come, it was of course very sad and emotional. There were ELEVEN priests concelebrating Michelle's funeral mass, including her spiritual director who flew in from overseas. The church was also packed. Sigh, may God bless those who are left here in this valley of tears.

Another UPDATE: I found out recently that Michelle's husband Greg (who is an ER doc) was the one who told the residents who were trying to save her to stop, to let her go. God bless him for his courage.

Other Blogs to Check Out

Check out this blog at http://avemarisstella.blogspot.com Eddie is a young man in WI who is discerning a vocation to the priesthood.

A friend of mine has also started a blog. This is a wonderful person who I hope you'll take the time to get to know. http://theshadowshallfade.blogspot.com

Another one of my new favorites is Dappled Things at http:donjim.blogspot.com

Once I figure more out about this blogging thing I'll post a list of blogs that I read so you can check them out too!

Hot Chocolate, Paris in the Springtime, and Alzheimer's Disease

This afternoon after a long nap on a rainy Sunday I made myself a cup of hot chocolate. Though it wasn't the best hot chocolate I've ever had I put whipped cream on top of it and as I was drinking it I remembered sitting in a Paris rail station with my Mom and Dad drinking very rich hot chocolate with whipped cream on top. It was exquisite. I had never had hot chocolate that delicious. From that point on where ever we went in Europe that spring when I was eight I had hot chocolate, but it was never as good as it was in that Paris train station...

Tonight I'm sitting here working on a presentation on Alzheimer's disease. Thank God I have never lost someone to this disease. As difficult as it is to the patient I think it must be more difficult for those who are caring for them watching their loved one deteriorate over a long period of time. Watching my Father suffer for a few days was hard enough.

Missing!

So the particular fish for which I went to the fish store is MISSING! Now just how did that happen? I swear I saw the guy put him in the bag. Auuugh, back to the store with me. Later though, first I must work on this presentation.

UPDATE:

The missing fish has been replaced, and the presentation is starting to take shape, though I have enough info to give about a 6 hour presentation!

Procrastination....

So here I am blogging when I should be working on a presentation on aging and dementia....This whole blog idea may not be a good one....Sigh, I suppose I should get to work, though I'm full of things to say....more to come later when I have made some progress on this presentation!

But first I'm going to go put my new fish in the tank....

I sound like Ernest Hemingway....

It just struck me that in my previous post that sometimes I write like Hemingway, othertimes I write like Faulkner though, rambling sentences that seem to go on and on, with no real point at all--somewhat like this entry....

Dad on my wedding day

EJS 07/12/04

My Dad

This is my Dad. He died in December. I really miss him. He was one of my best friends. When I lay down at night to go to sleep I just keep thinking about all that happened, trying to figure it out and trying to wrap my brain around it. I can't. There are no answers. This is part of the whole seeing through a glass darkly. I know that I must trust, and I do, but I still can't fall asleep.

A little more about who I am....

Some of you reading this will know who I am, that is, my identity. Good for you. If you don't know it's unimportant.

For now I'm going to go by Daughter of St. John. If you know me you know why, if not you may find out once I discover how comfortable I am with this whole blogging thing.

Identity is a funny thing though, you might know a lot of details about me, but not know ME at all. In some ways who we are is a collection of facts, experiences, and perceptions. Here are some of the more important pieces in my collection.

I'm a Navy Brat, an only child and only grandchild. I'm a Catholic, a wife, and as a friend tells me, the mother of a saint-by the grace of God, I can take no credit for that at all.

I'm a Catholic Feminist and also a PhD student (that's Piled higher and Deeper for those who don't know). I am an editor of theses and dissertations (email if you want to hire me!).

I am a proud graduate of a Woman's College.

I'm a procrastinator, and a lover of many things, most especially my husband, family, and friends.

I am a child of God.

(and now that I've edited this about 8 times I realize that I am a consumate editor and in some ways a perfectionist)

The first post

So I'm not really sure how I feel about this whole blogging phenomenon, it seems in a way to be a sort of self-aggrandizing phenomenon. Why else would people spend their time typing away? Yeah, yeah, maybe they just enjoy writing. LOL, yeah, whatever.

That said, here I am, entertain me. Oh wait, I'm supposed to be entertaining you. Right then, ok, well consider yourself entertained at least for now.

I suppose I'll tell you a little about me in the next few blogs, and who knows, maybe someone, somewhere will read this blog, or not. Maybe I'll just type things here that I would otherwise have emailed to my Dad. Sigh, I miss him. More on that later perhaps.