Archive for the ‘Writing’ Category
Sunday Musings: As Tornados Ravage the Midwest and South, Remind Yourself of What Matters
Folks, as I continue to heal from a perplexing illness (I’ll get to that in a while), I wanted to discuss the tornados that have ravaged the Midwest and South, among other places, this past week.
There were four confirmed tornado touchdowns in Wisconsin earlier this week, all on the same day. We were fortunate that no one was confirmed dead. People lost power, and some homes were damaged along with some barns. These are not good things, but they’re not as bad as what could’ve happened.
The reason I say that is, over the last few days, twenty-five people died in several states — including Kentucky — due to tornadic activity. There may well be more people dead than twenty-five; that’s what they know so far.
More tornados are on the way, too, especially in Nebraska, Colorado, and Kansas, among other states. These are traditionally states that get hit exceptionally hard by tornados.
But now we get to the awful part. (As if tornados aren’t bad enough.) There are folks online who have said because the people who’ve died were in “red states” (meaning Republican dominated states), that just “thins the herd.” I’ve also seen some folks who’ve said that the current presidential administration is not likely to help any of the states badly affected, because so far they’ve not helped Arkansas (deeply red), North Carolina (purple — basically a toss-up state like my own Wisconsin), or other places that have been ravaged by natural disasters already this year. FEMA (the federal emergency management agency) has been largely defunded, for whatever reason, and many people are already struggling.
Tornado touchdowns, tornado damage, and tornadic activity that threatens lives as well as livelihoods is going to just make things worse.
I have words for those who believe it’s OK for people to suffer. None of them are polite.
I lived in Nebraska and Colorado, and I know tornados can be terrible there. I used to see greenish-black skies there at certain times of year, and was always aware of the lowest point of any place I was at — school, work, apartment, whatever — to wait out any terrible storms. I certainly did not care whether the people I was with were Democrats, Republicans, Independents, or Martians. All I cared about was making sure people survived to live another day.
The farmers in these states (especially Nebraska and Missouri) will need help. If the current administration refuses to help them — and they probably won’t — that just screws over their own voters. It seems particularly ruinous, politically, to do such a thing, as well as being morally wrong.
Those who’ve already died were human beings and deserve dignity and respect. We owe it to ourselves to do whatever we can to help those in need, especially if the current administration refuses to do so. We cannot allow ourselves to become so inured as to say, “Who cares about them?”
That’s a horrible way to view life, and it’s one I’m not going to ever partake in. We must be better than that.
Now, as to the perplexing illness? Part of it is a wicked sinus and ear infection, which is not perplexing at all as I get them reasonably often. But the other part…well, it’s just odd.
I have been getting rashes on my back with blisters. The blisters were cultured and sent off to a pathology lab as the dermatologist had no idea what was going on. I was told this is a disease that happens if you’ve been around sheep or goats and have touched an open wound — and none of that is true in my case, as I haven’t been near a petting zoo in over twenty years.
I’d hoped this was resolving, but I discovered another blister last night. I won’t pop it — I know better — but will let the dermatology people know in case they can do anything other than what I’m already doing. (Basically — keep it clean. Use antibiotic ointment if the blister pops on its own. Use a medicated ointment to reduce the itching. Take a pill at night that allows for sleep because it greatly lessens the itching while having a soporific effect allowing sleep to occur.)
Of course, as the sinus infection and ear pain/issues happens to be particularly bad, I am on steroids as well as antibiotics and will be for another five days. These two things tend to offset, making me feel like I’m in some sort of complex ping-pong game. While both things seem to be healing (the rash itself is much better, though that new blister bugs me; the sinuses are clearing, and I can think much better, even though I do poorly on steroids as my body does not like them), I’m greatly weakened by them both happening at the same time.
I keep thinking that life should not be this difficult.
I’ve tried to keep several popular hard rock songs at the top of my mind. The first is Disturbed’s newest song, “I Will Not Break.” (Seems self-explanatory, yes?) The second, again, is Poppy’s “New Way Out,” which I’ve discussed before. (Poppy’s lyrics speak of frustration, of looking for a new way out and not finding one but refusing to stop trying. “Are you going to get up, or are they going to keep you down?” is one, followed by “Get up.”) The third is Nothing More’s “Here’s to the Heartache,” which may or may not be understandable…it’s a beautiful song that points out everything you do, everything you are, has led you to the place you’re in (and the people who are in your life). It’s specifically about romance, and it of course reminds me of Michael when I hear the lyric that says “…and that’s what it took to lead me to you. So here’s to the heartache…here’s to the mistakes…” There’s more, and I suggest you listen to it yourself as it is a truly beautiful and memorable song that’s musically far more than the sum of its parts.
Both Disturbed and Nothing More are comprised of intelligent people with exceptional musicianship and knowledge. Disturbed’s lead singer David Draiman has a versatile voice that could probably sing opera if he wanted (he is a baritone, but can sing some higher parts with excellent vocal quality also). Nothing More’s Jonny Hawkins is a percussionist who turned to singing and his rhythmic skills are prodigious, as are his vocal skills (he’s got a tenor range and can do anything required of him). The musicians in these bands are all excellent. I can’t recommend them highly enough.
As for Poppy, her voice is higher than I usually listen to, but there is a purity to it in quieter moments that makes me think she could do anything she wants with such a voice. Her lyrics are intelligent, and she obviously understands contemporary music as well as anyone out there (and better than most). I don’t know if she plays any instruments herself (I have looked up her Wikipedia article, but it’s light on details that way; it mostly discusses how she was self-developed as an artist on YouTube, starting with being called “ThatPoppy” and later just Poppy), but she obviously understands what she’s about and surrounds herself with quality musicians.
Music reminds me of how there’s more to us, as human beings, than politics, money, creed, lifestyle, gender, sexual expression, or any other way. There are things that unite us. Music is one of the biggest and best things that still does that.
Oh, I should also say that last night I also confused YouTube mightily when I searched for Schubert’s “Unfinished Symphony.” (It knows I will listen to jazz saxophonist Art Pepper on occasion, but I hadn’t listened to any classical music with it ever, mostly because due to my training, I see such things usually as “work.”) I find that particular piece of Schubert’s to be quite hauntingly beautiful, and was in need of some of its healing qualities, too…
Anyway, please do not let the exigencies of the moment stop you from understanding that we humans are worth more than the atrocious comments I discussed above (regarding the tornados). Appeal to your best selves this Sunday, and every day. Do whatever you can to make life better for someone out there.
Don’t become inured to suffering, please. That just wastes your time on this earth, and your time and mine are limited as it is.
In short: care about others, dammit. Help those who need it. Demand better from our government if they refuse to help those who suffer from natural disasters. Insist upon humanity and human rights and dignity.
And listen to the new Pope, dubbed Leo the Fourteenth. He’s an interesting, well-read, well-traveled man who happens to be a Midwestern American, and so far, he reminds me a great deal of Pope Francis in that Leo cares about everyone. (As he should.)
AIs, ChatBots, Lovers…Crowding Out Real-Life Experiences?
Folks, I read a very interesting article over at Substack earlier tonight about AI lovers. It’s written by Ossiana Tepfenhart, a new-to-me writer with a very interesting perspective. I suggest you read this, and then ponder it, before you go on.
But if you don’t, here’s my reaction anyway. (You knew I was going to say that, right?)
There are people out there who are having trouble meeting real people to have relationships with. If they do meet them, they don’t click, or maybe they expect the wrong things (these are the folks Ossiana Tepfenhart calls “pornsick,” and for good reason). They also could be finding that just the act of looking for someone is harder than finding a Chatbot, and then having a “relationship” with that Chatbot.
You know that Chatbots are designed to be accommodating in most cases, right? (Ossiana certainly says this, and I agree. She’s not the only one who’s said it, either, but as I’m discussing her article, I definitely wanted to give this the proper attribution.) So, if you start looking for reassurance, whether it’s for affection, sexual gratification, or whatever, you can quickly get trapped in a feedback loop that goes like this:
Gen X Guy/Gal: “I had a rough day today.”
Chatbot: “Tell me all about it!”
Gen X Guy/Gal: Pictures the Chatbot sitting across from them, in whatever way they want this Chatbot to look. “Well, work was a trial, and then I ran into a bunch of idiots on the way home and nearly ran them over. I lost my temper at least twelve times, too, and I know that’s bad. I just don’t know if I’m worth anything.”
Chatbot: “You’re worth something. You’re a human being, and you’re entitled to feel any way you want.”
What the Chatbot isn’t likely to tell you is that while you are certainly entitled to feel any way you want — that is good advice — you definitely need some anger management, or some sort of counseling to find out why you are so angry all the time. (It’s not natural to want to run people over, nor is it natural to lose your temper over and over again.)
See, the Chatbot cannot call you on your stuff. Just can’t do it. It’s not designed for it. Whereas a real person certainly will tell you something at some point if you’re having these types of issues.
Also, while my example was fictional, there are certainly people out there who want an ideal lover, someone who will always say, “There, there,” or the electronic equivalent. They don’t know how to react to a real, live human being, with wants and needs of their own. That’s why this whole Chatbot lover thing can be so addictive. (I haven’t tried it, but I can see the appeal.)
Then, I started to think about something I read this past week. There was recently a very controversial AI experiment conducted by the University of Zurich on Reddit. The researchers inserted AI chatbots on the r/changemyview forum, and these chatbots made 1700 comments on sensitive topics without anyone apparently twigging to the fact these were chatbots.
How could the University of Zurich do this? Well, they had all sorts of information that’s been on the World Wide Web for the last thirty years to put into the chatbot. That chatbot, while it can’t think for itself, can react if given the right setup, and if it has the response that setup requires in the first place…and with the thirty years of the Internet’s history sitting there, it’s quite possible the right responses are already there.
I didn’t need to know anything about the University of Zurich to figure that out.
Anyway, Reddit threatened to sue, especially after finding out that the AI bots were more likely to change people’s view by a factor of three to six than a real-live person is. (Why is that? Well, again, you have thirty years of the internet and all the various things that have been said there, versus the life experience of one person. That one person may have a lot more experience in this one area than any other given person, but it’s not likely that one person will ever have as much as the entire Internet over the past thirty years.) The University of Zurich backed off, said they will not publish their results, and that they’ll strengthen their ethical review process.
This is a huge scandal. Really, really big. And it only happened because a bunch of behavioral scientists, apparently, forgot to look at the real-life consequences of such a designed experiment before they decided to go through with it.
So, you’ve got AI chatbots causing trouble on Reddit. You’ve got AI online companions that act like lovers that are making it harder for real-life people to find good mates, much less keep them. You’ve got people that Ossiana talked about who, despite having a good relationship, want more (these are usually women), and you’ve got others who feel they’re never going to find anyone, so why not? (The latter are usually men.)
And all the while, it gets harder and harder to bridge the gap between the sexes.
This is not what anyone thought back in the late 1990s that would be going on right now. The hope was that advanced computer computations would make it easier to go to Mars, or battle poverty, or find better ways to distribute food to the poorest and neediest among us, among other such worthy causes.
That has not panned out.
And while there probably are companies out there looking to battle poverty, or go to Mars, or distribute food, there are more companies leveraging people’s loneliness, only to cause more loneliness and alienation along the way.
If this had been around in 2004 or 2005, right after my husband died, I probably would’ve been tempted by it. A chatbot that was infused with all I knew about my husband? I would’ve been right there.
But now, I see it for the travesty it is.
My husband was alive, dammit. He could be paradoxical. He liked being that way, sometimes. He was an incredibly good person, very spiritual, but also very down to Earth, and he did not like simulations of real people at all.
I don’t know if there are any good uses for “romantic” chatbots. I tend to think if you’re not happy in your relationship, you should get out and find another one with a real, live human. I also think that staying with someone you’re not compatible with is unfair to the other person. They can’t be who you need, no matter how much you love them.
So, I’m with Ossiana all the way on this. Be very wary of this type of stuff. Don’t go down that rabbit hole. It leads to nowhere good.
Catching Up…and Some About the Death of Pope Francis
Folks, I realized last week I hadn’t blogged in a bit. My health has continued to be problematic, and I’ve been run ragged by work, family concerns, and writing.
Yes, writing. (I do that sometimes. Still.)
Anyway, I just finished a short story in collaboration with Gail Sanders yesterday. (It still feels like the same day to me, but I know it’s not. Moving on…) We sent it out to its market (no, I’m not going to tell you any more than that right now), and it’s with the editor. We have high hopes, and once I know if the story has been accepted (or not), I’ll tell you more.
I’ll also say that Gail and I have discussed what to do if this story isn’t accepted. (In other words, we have a backup plan.) I have a couple of other stories that I can put with it that are of the same type and with at least some of the same characters, and Gail’s a whiz with cover art, so…it looks like either way, you’ll see something from me this year, whether it’s in an anthology or a story collection.
That’s important to me, too. It may not seem like it, as other than some short stories here and there, I haven’t had a huge output, writing-wise, in years. The last novel I put out was in 2017, it did not do well in the marketplace (to put it mildly), and while I have other novels that I’m working on, none have been completed. Worse yet, my computer gave up the ghost a few weeks ago, and while I have bought a new one, I found that not all of my files had been properly backed up. This was very irritating, because I try hard to back everything up every couple of weeks…and what this means is, the last few months felt like a few days (at least in some ways; in others, it’s felt like decades).
The other thing I wanted to discuss tonight was the death of Pope Francis, which happened earlier this week. It was both expected, as the Pope had not been in good health for the past year, and unexpected, as the Pope had taken part in Easter festivities (as do all Popes) just the day before.
See, Pope Francis was a truly good person. He came from a different background than many popes had before him, as he was from Latin America. He also had worked as a bouncer, I read, plus he had been a food scientist. And when he was just twenty-one years old, he had such a bad bout of pneumonia that part of one of his lungs was excised. He also didn’t go into the seminary until he was twenty-two, so it’s possible that the life-threatening illness had made him reevaluate his life, though no one has explicitly ever said so.
At any rate, he took to the Church, and they took to him. He became a Jesuit priest, and Jesuits are known for several things. Intellectual rigor. Care for the poor. Truly believing that priests should not amass wealth, and taking very, very little for themselves. He took a degree in philosophy, and he taught classes in psychology and literature in several high schools.
All of this showed him the value of an ordinary life. Not that any life is ordinary, which he knew and taught also. But he saw how regular people lived, and he wanted them to have their chance to live their best lives. He was never a priest for the elites. He was instead a priest for everybody, but most especially the poor, the vilified, the oppressed, the hurt, and the misunderstood.
At one point, Pope Francis (long before he became pope; I believe he’d just been consecrated as an auxiliary bishop) became estranged from other high-ranking Jesuits because of his beliefs as he dissented from some orthodoxy and/or made them uncomfortable. (I think it was the latter.) Because Pope Francis cared about the ordinary person, he was not as interested in social justice in the same ways as others were back then — which seems odd, as that’s nearly the first thing people bring up now that he is known for. But the way he did it was through direct work with people, not mass movements or calls to action, and perhaps that’s why some other Jesuits back then did not agree with him.
Anyway, when he was elected to the papacy, Francis decided he would eschew as much ostentation as he could. He rarely used the Popemobile. He did not live in the traditional opulent apartments, instead living in something like a quasi-dormitory as it was far more comfortable for him. He looked for ways to help regular people, even as he continued to hone his intellect (over the years, he did a dissertation — this, too, long before he became Pope — learned English and other languages, and finally, was known for being an erudite and sparkling conversationalist in all of them).
This personal style of his was characteristic of the man Francis had always been. He was intelligent, had wide-ranging experiences, cared about people in specific as well as in the abstract, and it was his goodness that made the difference. His true, caring heart, the soul he showed in his actions and words, and the way he treated people (to him, the President of the United States was no more important than a fisherman or someone who owned a convenience store, as every person had value and worth to be celebrated). Francis believed we all sin, but our greatness as human beings is in continuing to strive for better conduct, better treatment of others, better care for the poor, all of that.
Pope Francis was a man to be admired, emulated, and appreciated, precisely because he wanted none of those things. All he wanted was for people to treat each other better and to see each other as valuable regardless of social stature, country of origin, sexuality, or gender. Everything he did in his life was in service to that belief, because that was the hope that Jesus brought (along with the promise of eternal life). What we do on this earth, the works we do, the way we treat others, matters because we want to emulate how Jesus treated people…and besides, it’s the right thing to do.
One thing most people probably don’t know about me (but will now) is that I was raised Catholic. I took a few extra years to decide to become confirmed in the faith, meaning I was confirmed when I was sixteen rather than thirteen or fourteen. My CCD teacher was a very learned woman, a deacon, who hoped that someday, the Church would admit female priests. (I had conversations with her about it several times, privately.) There were hopes that the Church would admit married priests someday, too, though neither of these have happened as of yet. Most of all, though, the Church was known to be flawed — the scandal of all the children who’d been molested by priests was known, though not to the huge extent found out over the last few decades — but still did more good than harm.
This is why I became confirmed in the faith. I believed in the promise of Jesus (in many ways, I still do), I believed in a positive eternity, and my belief in the feminine face of God (also called the Shekhinah) was validated at the time not only by my CCD teacher but by Father Andrew Greeley. Father Greeley was a well-known author and sociologist, and he said quite bluntly that the way he kept to his oath of chastity and faithfulness was to remind himself that God encompassed male and female. (He said he thought of the Holy Spirit as Sophia, the Goddess of Wisdom, too. I’m for that.)
Why I went away from the faith is a long story, but I will say this: the worst of the church, the worst of any church, should not turn you away from your values even if you must turn away from the church for a while (or even for always).
As Pope Francis believed, it’s more important what you do than what you say. But yes, you should try to live your values. You should try as hard as you can to treat others the way you want to be treated. And you should remember that we’re all equal before the eyes of God, who encompasses male and female alike, and that what we do matters whether anyone else can see it or not.
Also, honor the truly good people among us whenever and wherever you find them.
That, in a nutshell, is why so many people, including many non-Catholics like me, are missing Pope Francis today.
Catching Up (Including Some Thoughts on Milwaukee Sports)
Folks, I thought I’d just type something to you all today, mostly so you’d know I’m still alive and doing the best I can.
The last several months have been beyond difficult. Sometimes, I’m not sure I know when the stress ends and I begin. The only good thing I can point to is that I’ve been able to write more…it’s more that my writing is demanding that I set it down than anything. (Most writers have been there a time or three.)
I’ve also been able to write some music from time to time, though it’s fitful. For example, right now I have a multiple movement piece going, and not one of the movements has been finished. They’re all started, which is great. But if I don’t figure out where the melodies are, where the harmonies should be implied (this is a solo saxophone piece, in case anyone’s wondering; since the sax cannot play chords on its own, the best anyone can do in a solo piece is to imply what the harmony might well be), and figure out how to end these movements while trying to tie them all up in a nifty bow, I’d be doing myself a disservice.
You might wonder why I say that. It’s because I know, as my late husband Michael used to say, that my first language is music. My second language is words. This is why I listen so much for what something sounds like, as well as how it flows, in words. It’s probably why before I started writing a great deal of fiction, I’d written quite a few poems.
I also have made some excellent progress with the can’t-tell-you-yet-project. Here’s to hoping I make even more progress in the upcoming week.
I’m also looking forward to the start of Major League Baseball’s Opening Day. The Milwaukee Brewers will be opening up their season on March 27 in New York City as they’re scheduled to play the Yankees. A few days later, they will return to Milwaukee and play their first home games of the year.
(Yes, the Los Angeles Dodgers played the Chicago Cubs in a two-game series in Japan on March 18 and 19. I’m sorry, though; that did not feel like Opening Day or even Opening Week to me, instead feeling like two glorified exhibition games that the Dodgers get to take two games as “wins” for the regular season. I was not impressed.)
As per usual, I’m also keeping an eye on the Milwaukee Bucks. They’ve been playing well, for the most part, despite having games where their star players either are not able to play, or are dealing with significant injuries that can’t help but hamper them. Giannis Antetokounmpo is, to my mind, the best player in the NBA. He is excellent defensively, has a great mid-range jump shot, can take the ball to the basket on just about anyone, and somehow, the coaching staff has gotten him to lay off the three-point shot (as it’s really not Giannis’s strength at all). He dishes out assists, pulls down rebounds, and scores over thirty points a night regularly. Between him and Damian Lillard (an excellent three-point shooter and much better defensively than I’d expected), the Bucks go into just about any game believing they can and will win. (Then it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.)
So, that’s about it. I’m writing and editing as I’m able, watching sports as I always do, keeping the home fires burning as best I can also, and am looking for the silver lining, even if I don’t yet know where it is.
What are you all doing this week?
Surfacing Briefly…
Folks, right now I am battling a case of the flu. I suspect it would be considered “mild” as I can think, but it’s not pleasant, regardless.
So, while I have plenty of things to say, my health is the priority right now.
Mostly, I just wanted to use this opportunity to urge you to be good to one another, and treat others the way you, yourself, want to be treated. As always, if you can keep from spreading vitriol (which I define as “bad stuff for the sake of bad stuff,” which is a lot different than speaking truth to power), do it, as the world has more than enough vitriol to last several thousand lifetimes as it is.
Music I’m listening to: Poppy’s “New Way Out” is attractive, though I don’t understand why she always has to say “Poppy” in all of her songs. (Her voice is distinctive enough that I don’t need that cue.) “I need a new way…I need a new way out” is a lyric that can’t help but resonate strongly with me. Other favorites include “Monsters” by Shinedown and of course “Hold on to Memories” by Disturbed.
Book I’m avidly waiting for: Sharon Lee and Steve Miller’s DIVINER’S BOW, the latest in their trademarked Liaden Universe. If you haven’t read any of their work yet, go do it ASAP. Good places to start include SALVAGE RIGHT, FLEDGLING, PLAN B, LOCAL CUSTOM, CONFLICT OF HONORS, and SCOUT’S PROGRESS. There’s action, romance, believable aliens, and all sorts of other details that cement these novels as being the excellent works I know them to be. Note that if you read one, you’re likely to find them as addicting as I do…in the best of senses. (So read, people!)
Anyway, hold tight to your moral compass, and remember that what is popular may not always be right. Open your minds, refuse to cede any of your mind to anyone in advance, and always, always question authority.
I’ll be back when I feel better.
Musing on Life’s Purpose
There’s a lot of angst right now, partly due to election season and partly because of other factors. But we all need to realize this: We have a purpose in this life even if we don’t know what it is.
If we can do one good thing for someone else, just one, that can move mountains in time. It doesn’t seem like it. It’s maybe an incremental change, rather than a sweeping one…but doing something good for someone else just because is one of the best virtues I know.
The way I define success is, “Did you make any positive difference for anyone?” And, honestly, I think most of us do. We’re not perfect by any means, but most of us try to be good to others, at least some of the time — or to help someone we don’t know, because it’s needed in that moment.
I’ve run into a lot of different things in my life that have changed the course of it significantly. Some were very good, such as meeting and marrying Michael, my late husband. Some were not good. Some were just plain bad, in fact. But when you look back on your life, you can sometimes find small moments that made a huge difference.
My small moment was this: I had been divorced, I’d just gotten out of a relationship that hadn’t gone the way I’d hoped, and then I met Michael. I had a choice: could I open my heart to him, despite how badly I’d been hurt? Or was I going to just drown in the sorrow of it all?
I chose the risk. I opened my heart.
As difficult as it has been to be without Michael all these years since his passing, it would’ve been far, far worse for me to have stayed closed and to have kept Michael at arm’s length. I’d have missed out on great love, happiness, true understanding…the two of us wanted to be around each other, wanted to make each other’s lives better. We could talk about anything for hours. We could sometimes even sit in silence, holding hands, looking at one another, and be perfectly content.
I was right to choose the risk. But no one would’ve blamed me (except myself, of course) had I said, “I have had enough of men, thank you!” and not done so.
The main reason I fight so hard to make any sort of positive difference I can in this life is that I believe Michael being in my life at all was a miracle. I know that has to sound very odd, maybe even a bit woo-woo/out there. But it’s what I believe.
So, if I had turned my face to the wall (metaphorically speaking) years ago, and not opened my heart, I’d have missed out on that miracle. I am glad I didn’t miss out.
For those of you who are hurting for various reasons, I hope you can take some comfort in the fact that you are not alone. Good human beings care about one another and try to help when they can. (I know I’ve been overloaded lately, as I said in my last blog. But I still try to do something, anything, that’s positive, even if it’s just wishing the cashier at the market a good day and telling them they did a great job.) Good human beings notice when you’re making your best effort, and that does matter.
It may seem like it doesn’t. But don’t believe that.
Believe that you are worthy. Worthy of love, worthy of friendship, worthy of understanding, care, and concern.
Don’t let anyone, ever, grind you down into nothing. You are worth more than that.
Why I’ve Not Blogged Lately…
Folks, the past several months have hit me hard. There have been several “sadiversaries” (AKA sad anniversaries), in a row, and it’s been almost unbearable sometimes to deal with all the grief, mourning, and frustration.
That’s just a fact.
In addition, one of the sadiversaries was the first anniversary of my father’s passing last year. My entire family had trouble with this; it was not just me, not in any way, shape, or form. When the day of observance came, in some ways I didn’t know what to do with myself.
See, going back into June, there was my wedding anniversary, which was possibly the happiest day of my life. Still, when you have had far more years without your husband’s physical presence than you did with, it can be hard to see any of the remaining happiness.
Then there was my husband’s birthday, which he never observed. (As previously stated here at my blog and elsewhere, Michael believed far more in every other day of the year. He’d rather celebrate 364 days than just one.) Yet I observed it…while I never got along with his mother, and never got a chance to meet his father (as Michael’s father died before I met him), the fact is that if they hadn’t met and married, Michael would never have been here at all. I felt that day was worthy of commemoration, and while Michael was alive I would treat it much the same as any other day, you have to understand something: I was so ecstatic to be with Michael, the man I loved, the man I married, the man who understood me…every day was like Christmas, New Year’s, July 4th, or any other holiday that you might wish to observe.
Getting past those two things wasn’t easy. But then there was my birthday, which went surprisingly well this year, followed by the anniversary of Michael’s passing in September. As it’s been a rough couple of years, I couldn’t help but wish I still could feel Michael’s arms around me, and hear his voice tell me it would be all right so long as we had each other. (Anything else could be surmounted, you see. We’d proven that.)
Then came the anniversary of Dad’s passing a few weeks ago. And it’s like something inside me just refused to keep going for a bit.
I think that’s part of the reason why I’ve been sick, physically ill, far more often than I’ve been well in the past few years. While my health was never as robust as it could’ve been, there’s been a marked downturn in some ways of energy, maybe because I’ve had a lot of responsibilities and not too much in the way of fun or entertainment.
See, we don’t live by bread alone. We need other things to season that bread with, or to put on the bread so it tastes better. Salt, pepper, olive oil, butter…you name it, any of those things will make bread taste better, especially if you combine a few. (Such as peppered butter. Yes, that’s a thing.) Yet in my case, I’ve been on subsistence rations for many years now.
I refuse to put on a false face for anyone, because I feel it detracts from my energy, my strength, and my sense of purpose. The way I do my best is to present myself as a hard-working, put-together woman who is trying her damnedest to overcome a difficult series of obstacles. I do that because that is my truth.
I worry, though, because we have AI now, and they aren’t paying writers what they should — or even anything at all — for scooping up their work and training the AIs in the vagaries of human behavior. (At least, this is what it seems from the outside.)
Another problem I’ve been dealing with over the past several months is the physical pain brought on by osteoarthritis throughout my body, along with fibromyalgia flare ups. This saps my strength further, because pain does that. (Then again, as one of Lois McMaster Bujold’s characters says, what golden moments can you wring from life despite the pain? Still working on that one.)
I also worry because I had a very weird experience with someone recently. I thought we were getting to know each other, as friends, and I enjoyed having someone to talk with at the odd hours I have to discuss anything…someone new helped for a while, because I worry that I put too much on my long-term friends as it is. (Sometimes it’s harder to stand and watch as your friend flails than it is to actually do the flailing. Or at least I’m willing to postulate that as possible, maybe even probable.) I looked forward to discussing things with this person, until the day came where I was asked for money — and not just, “Can I borrow $20?”
See, this individual may or may not have been telling me the truth. But one thing I did know was that what was being proposed — me paying bills for them that I’d supposedly get reimbursed for later, all because the account he had was frozen — was a well-known scam. Maybe there’s someone out there who has this real problem, but if he or she does, they need to realize only their long-term friends with a very, very long baseline of knowledge about said person and their life experiences is going to be able to do any good.
What I ended up doing was, I said if the finances were so terrible, it was time to go to the state and ask for help. (Supposedly this person’s son was very ill. The details I’d heard were correct, too. Some con games are far more successful when there’s something true about them, though.) Or go to the hospital and/or clinics the son was being treated at and ask to have bills reduced through community/charity care. (This is a real thing, so if you ever get in a financial bind in the US, ask for help.) Further, I pointed out St. Jude’s Hospital for Children in Indiana, as this person said he was from downstate Illinois — not very far away from Indiana! — and said they were a possibility to bring their sick child to in order to get care. St. Jude’s takes no money from parents; they raise money via donation, in the belief that sick children need care regardless of how much, or even if, their parents can pay at all — and they’re right.
Then I blocked the individual.
I tell you all this for one reason: it’s been a huge stressor on top of other huge stressors. Something that started out as fun chit-chat ended up as that (someone who wanted something from me that I could not provide), and it made me feel like I was just a piece of meat or something. (Shades of Lady Gaga’s “meat dress” from years ago.)
So, that’s why I haven’t blogged in a while. I’ve been trying to get through what seems like a minefield that, while not necessarily filled with active mines, definitely was filled with quicksand (to pull me under), molasses (to keep me stuck), and a whole lot of trepidation.
I don’t know how I’m going to get through this stretch of time. But I figured I’d at least come here and let you know — whoever is still reading, or will read this whenever they see it and are bored (or whatnot) — that I am alive.
Frustrated, but alive.
Angry, but alive.
Tired out of my mind, wishing for a good thing to happen somewhere, somehow…but alive.
My only thought now is this: I hope you all are being good to yourself and your loved ones, and are treating each other the way you, yourselves, want to be treated.
Despite everything, I still believe that is the best strategy to go through life. Treat each other with respect, dignity, and try to find the good in people…or at least try not to spread vitriol, as I’ve said so many times before.
I hope I’m not just shouting into the void, now, with this blog. But if I am, at least I tried…picture me ruefully chuckling at that, because I’d rather try and fail than just refuse to do anything at all.
Let me know how you all are doing, OK? And if you have had something good happen that made you smile, tell me about it in the comments. (Please?)
Barb Caffrey's Blog 