Usually I don’t post about a book until I have finished with it, but I am enjoying Labyrinth, by Kate Mosse, too much to wait. A twist on the ever popular grail mystery, Labyrinth is very well written and engaging. Giving my personal beliefs and those I knew Michele held a couple of passages in the book have really struck a cord with me. Res contr’ Amor non es guirens, lai on sos poders s’atura.
Or, in English There is no protection against love, once it choose to exert its power
The other passage goes like this: The Bons Homes valued inner faith above outward display. The needed no consecrated buildings, no superstitious rituals, no humiliating obeisance designed to keep ordinary men apart from God. The did not worship images nor prostrate themselves before idols or instruments of torture. For the Bons Chretiens, the power of God lay in the word. The need only books and prayers, words spoken and read aloud. salvation was noting to do with the alms or relics of Sabbath prayers spoken in a language on the priests understood. In their eyes, all were equal in the Grace of the Holy Father – Jews or Saracen, man and woman, the beast of the fields and the birds of the air. There would be no hell, no final judgement, because through God’s grace all would be saved, although many would be destined to live life many times over before they regained God’s kingdom.
Powerful stuff, well written.
Updated: 5.6.2006 Rating: Excellent read, very satisfying all-around.
In lieu of a “45 Things About Me” list for my birthday next week, I give you:
[A is for age:] 45 [B is for booze of choice:] Vernor’s Ginger Ale [C is for career:] Software Engineer [D is for your dog’s name:] Nekko and Taz are cats, thank you very much [E is for essential item you use everyday:] Computers [F is for favorite song at the moment:] Going Under by Evanescence [G is for favorite games:] Cribbage [H is for Home town:] Decatur, IL [I is for instruments you play:] None [J is for jeans] Jeans are uncomfortable [K is for kids?:] None. Perhaps never [L is for last hug?:] Mom [M is for marriage:] Widower [N is for name of your crush:] Michele [O is for overnight hospital stays:] Tonsils and two tubes-in-ears episodes [P is for phobias:] Choking [Q is for quote:] “It doesn’t do well to leave a dragon out of your calculations. Especially if you live near one.” [R is for biggest regret:] Not moving to Colorado Springs to be with Michele. Maybe… [S is for status:] Upright. Breathing. Less than homicidal. Mostly. [T is for time you wake up:] 4:30 - 5:30 (without an alarm) [U is for underwear:] white cotton [V is for vegetable you love:] sweet corn [W is for worst habit:] Nothing I’m willing to share. ;-) [X is for x-rays you’ve had:] Left foot (heel spur), knees (blown ligament), elbow (dislocated), nose (broken), skull (fractured) [Y is for yummy food you make:] Chili [Z is for zodiac sign:] Taurus
(from EricaLucci.com)
One of the things that Michele was particularly good at, and that she got me doing, was talking about uncomfortable situations in advance so as to lessen the impact when they happened for real. Knowing that you are going into a difficult situation is one thing, but talking about it before hand, in a safe, controlled place, allows you to dump your fears, or anger, or other powerful emotion outside of a situation where expressing yourself fully might be ill-advised or difficult.
In just over a week the 45th anniversary of my birth will occur and I am full of mixed emotions regarding it this year. Throughout my childhood my birthdays were generally good ones. I had a roller skating party in the fourth grade (even my parents skated!), and took my best friend sailing one year. As I got older it seemed that less importance was placed on birthdays. By the time I was in my early twenties my birthday was often just another day. Michele put an end to all of that; she felt very strongly that birthdays were meant to be special. In the short time we had together she always had special gifts for me, and sent goodie baskets to my office so I could share with my co-workers, she even managed to have a surprise party for me at my favorite restaurant one year. Through her I learned to appreciate the idea of a day just for me.
This May my day will be difficult. Michele won’t be here to give me a special gift, or smile at me in that magical way she had. Adding to the stress level will be silent footfalls of death approaching to take my mother away. At present it seems she is strong enough to make it well into May, but the specter of her dying soon will color the occasion. After spending Thanksgiving with friends I learned that at least this first year I wanted to celebrate special days in my own way, usually by myself. I stayed away from Illinois on Christmas, having spent the weekend prior there with my parents. I want to stay away for my birthday as well, but I can’t not go as one of these visits will be the last ever with mom.
It may sound selfish to want to be alone on my birthday, but I know in my heart that nothing is going to make me feel good about not having Michele here to celebrate with me. Having to spend time with others, even family, is only going to make her absence more apparent. That a lot of focus will go to my mom (perhaps rightly so) will be difficult to swallow. I am honest enough with myself to know that I will be jealous of her getting attention on my day. So I am writing about it here as I don’t want to take that hurt with me and taint one of my last moments with her.
My plan is to pick a day, perhaps in a week or so, and go to our favorite restaurant, the one Michele loved more than any other, and let myself have a special dinner. And I’ll buy myself something that I want but wouldn’t ordinarily let myself have, as that is the kind of present Michele would get me. And I’ll let my mom give me one more hug, and one more “I love you” for the actual day.
You’d think that the relative good news I got this afternoon regarding my vision would have given me an entire evening of good. You’d be wrong. Lately it seems that the boiling water of my anger is always just below the surface waiting for the slightest reason to explode.
Tonight it was a stupid piece of software that I have been struggling with for three days now. Even following step-by-step the directions from Microsoft’s “help” service I was unable to make Windows OneCare work. And I’ve been mucking about with computers for thirty years. How on Earth do amateurs every get this stuff to work? My rage was limited to repeated screaming and yelling, and few hammer-fist strikes to the desktop. Afterwards I cried and cried. My sobbing continued for a good twenty minutes.
I don’t want my mom to die. No one wants anyone they love to die, but to face losing my mom just six months after losing my wife is almost more than I can bear. I hurt inside all the time, I feel like I can’t inhale all the way, and I can barely focus long enough to eat or dress myself. I understand in some dim way that the bouts of anger I’m having are really about two things. First I have some legitimate anger. Michele left me, and now my mom (who couldn’t or wouldn’t stop smoking) is going to die too. Next it’ll be my dad. Nekko, the older cat, is showing signs of age. She’ll die. And then finally Taz will go and I’ll be all alone.
It feels like everyone and everything I love dies. I’m a monster who is toxic to the ones I love. I use the anger to push things I love away from me. That’s the second part of my out bursts. Taz climbs into the crook of my arm and starts to lick me, which is her way of saying, “I love you”, only I can’t stand to be accepted and loved when I feel like I’m losing everything. I get mad at her for loving me no matter what, and I fly into a rage. After the storm passes, she comes out of hiding and climbs into the crook of my arm and licks me. Love is truly amazing.
The energy I spent earlier in my incensed rage as left me weak and spent now. I think the bubble that popped earlier when I learned I wasn’t seeing things (literally) wrong also released a lot of energy that had been pent up.
Tomorrow I’ll get up and breathe in and out.
And then I’ll go from there.
At my follow-up eye exam today I learned why I’ve been having so much trouble seeing. And I also learned that my instincts that something wasn’t right were dead on accurate. My right eye, the near one, healed far stronger than expected. Instead of measuring 150 it measures as a 3. Basically I have a microscope in my head. The doctor said there is no way I’ll be able to adjust to this; that I either need a second procedure to my right eye or to get glasses.
Thank goodness the special I got includes lifetime adjustments.
I have to wait three months for the eye to fully heal before it can be lazed again. At that time, and with my eye’s measured response to the first procedure taken into account, a correction will be made that should allow me to see the way I want. In the meantime I have two pairs of glasses that have a clear lens in front of the left eye, and a corrective lens for the right. The lens shifts my focus point out from 10 inches to a more useful arms length.
I’m not thrilled about having a second procedure performed, nor am I happy about wearing glasses for the next two months. But being able to sit up and see the computer screen is worth it. Even going through all the post-op stuff will be worth it.
And for all of you who know me, and have been aware that my patience with regard to this was non-existant, I say “nuts to you”. My bad for not calling the doctor sooner because I knew something wasn’t right when day after day after day I couldn’t see. Your bad for not hearing that I was genuinely concerned that something was wrong and counseling patience.
Michele always said that I need to come with a warning label, perhaps a tattoo on my forehead others could read stating, “Poor Impulse Control”, or “Will Play With Your Head.” In any event she was well aware of my willingness to verbally poke at people if only to discover their hot buttons. Never to be malicious, just to understand what made them tick. Some people display their buttons more openly than others, and some need to just stay indoors.
When I’m driving I often toy with the driver behind me, particularly if s/he wants to tailgate. Crowding me in an effort to make me go faster or to get out of their way when there isn’t an open lane for me to move to will result in my slowing down, not in my speeding up. The expression on the face of the following driver who just allowed me to ratchet up their blood pressure is always worth the few seconds I add to my drive.
Recently I’ve discovered a new game: instant message chat status messages. I can cause at least one of my correspondents status message to change just by changing mine. Over the weekend I saw a bumper sticker I really liked. The sticker, an obvious play on the popular “WWJD” wrist bands read, “What Would Scooby Doo?” In the past couple of days I have started using this as a chat status message. Every time I have one of my correspondents has immediately changed their status to be something biblical. Like watching the people in your sparring division at a tournament to determine whether they are right or left handed, and does their body favor high kicks, learning that this individual can be poked with religious humor and knowing their response gives me tremendous insight into their thinking and behaviors.
Of course I realize that I have buttons too, and for the most part I know what they are and how I respond to their being pushed. I’m also reflective enough to recognize when someone has discovered a new button and is poking it (deliberately or inadvertently). Who’s to say that I’m not above using my buttons as a lure to discover more facets of the people around me?
My mom called me last night and we had a wonderful conversation on the phone. She had been to her cancer treatment in the afternoon where her blood counts were high enough for a chemotherapy treatment. One bag of chemicals instead of the normal two, but a treatment nonetheless. She was tired from the outing but alert and herself on the phone. She even managed to eat some solid food for the first time in days.
She and I have been exchanging emails for a couple of day, with the draft text of her eulogy embedded. She is sending me, via “snail mail” some revisions she would like. While it is a bit strange to collaborate on her eulogy with her, it feels good that she is pleased with its content. My hope is that it is a long time before it has to be presented.
Since she was a little up from Sunday when I saw her last I am thinking that I won’t return to Illinois until the first weekend in May. My fervent hope is that nothing changes in the intervening days to accelerate that schedule.
The past couple of evenings I have been a total zombie. Getting up the energy to make dinner has been an effort. Monday evening I cheated and just had scrambled eggs and bacon. It only takes a few minutes to make, it’s hot, delicious, and good comfort food for me. Last night I ordered-in from the nearby Chinese restaurant. Best part, other than spicy good food, is leftovers for lunch today.
Monday night I had a bout of insomnia and was still awake after midnight. Of course this added to my lack of energy yesterday, and, even though I had a good night’s sleep last night, I still feel tired today. About all I’ve been able to do several nights in a row is to sit in the over-sized chair watching Tivo. I haven’t even bothered to bring a laptop with me. (I will admit that not being able to clearly focus on the screen makes bring the laptop with me a bit of a downer.)
This afternoon, after my eye exam, I hope to get some laundry done. Maybe having a chore to accomplish as soon as I get home will give me some impetus for the rest of the evening.
It has been just over four weeks since I had LASIK surgery to my eyes. The changes, while immediately apparent, are still not what I had hoped for. When the literature says your vision may not stabilize for six months they really aren’t kidding.
Halos The halos around lights at night have diminished to a tolerable level. Whereas the first couple of weeks I had to wear sunglasses even at night to cut the effect now I notice, but am not really bothered by, the halo effect. Recently while looking up at a starry sky I discovered that the halos aren’t full circles any more, they only exist on the nose side of each eye. More of a crescent than a halo. I take this as a sign that the incision continues to heal, and I hope that means there is more improvement in my overall vision on the way.
Far Vision For the most part I am able to see distances satisfactorily. The sharp focus I expected isn’t there, but I can read road signs and generally exist in the world. What is disconcerting is when my brain decides to use the near eye in a distance situation. Driving, particularly when the windshield is covered with bugs, my brain wants to focus on the bugs and not the road ahead. Most of my daily computer usage seems to be through the far eye, which I did not expect. It isn’t able to clearly focus on the screen, but I can see well enough to get along. I also notice a delay in being able to see clearly when switching from reading or using the computer to walking or driving. My brain is slow to change eyes at times which is annoying.
Near Vision Up to a distance of about nine or ten inches I can see with great focus with my near eye. Once in a while it seems like that range increases briefly, only to return to the hand span distance I’ve had since right after the surgery. Peering out of the top of my eye (like you would do to look over a pair of glasses) I can see farther with the near eye; again making me suspect that the incision is still interfering with clear vision straight ahead. Earlier in the day I can see better with this eye, but as the day progresses my vision deteriorates.
Overall On the whole I have very mixed feelings about this experience. If in five or six more months I can see as I expected to as a result of the procedures I’ll be very pleased, and will likely owe the doctors and staff at LASIKPlus an apology. At tomorrow’s check up I think they are going to get an earful of frustration and fear. The single thing I wanted to be able to do without glasses was use the computer, and that is still the single thing I can’t do today.
Would I recommend this to other people? Not yet. Until they tell me that my eyes are fully healed and that my vision is where it will be as a result of the surgery, I can’t know whether this was a good decision or not. Right now I’m trapped in limbo, not knowing if I made the biggest mistake of my life or bought myself years of glasses free living.
Throughout your life you exist primarily inside a sphere called normal. Accidents, surprises, successes, and failures all move you around inside the sphere but you rarely approach the edge, much less cross that boundary into lunacy. The scope of normal is far greater than most of us would readily admit and, if we as a society were more willing to communicate honestly, the less odd we’d all feel. The fantasies, dreams, fears, and thoughts we hide inside are shockingly like the ones everyone else is hiding.
Trouble only starts when some event or combination of events pushes us hard against the thin membrane that separates the edge of normalcy from beginnings of lunacy. The loss of a loved one is certainly big enough to shove you way out of your comfort zone. I saw that in Michele after her father died. Losing a second loved one while you are still flirting with the edges of the sphere can easily take you well beyond the borders of safe and sane into uncharted territory. When Virginia died, Michele crossed into her uncharted territory, the area on old maps where the legend reads, “here there be monsters.” There is no way for me to know how much this displacement of normalcy played in her decision to die. That it did play a part I am certain.
I have spent the last six months crossing and re-crossing the boundary between sane and not sane, between known and unknown. My moments of lunacy have resulted in brief episodes of uncontrolled rage and destruction (my printer being the prime example). Every time I have crossed into the howling wasteland that lies beyond “normal” I have heard in my head a voice of reason that calmly brings me back to known ground. If I were to indulge my addictive side with drugs or alcohol I think the tie that secures me here would snap and I’d be lost in the wasteland for ever.
The impending death of my mother frightens me in a way I can’t really put into words. Michele always said I was the strongest person she’d ever known, that my courage and strength were awe inspiring to her. The coming weeks will put her assertion to the acid test. I have used so much energy just to make it this far, and, having circled once through the edges of lunacy called despair, I do not know where I will find the determination to survive that journey again. I only know that I must husband my energy, and choose my course carefully.
For here there be monsters.