Tuesday night I’m home alone (Warren is on a job out of state) and I decide I’m going to slip on my iPod headphones and dance around the house, something I haven’t done for a long time (it just doesn’t feel quite right when there’s someone in the house). Truth be told, I’m an uncoordinated, awkward and uncreative dancer, but I make up for it with energy, passion and joyfulness. I dance to Def Leppard and I dance to Miriam Makeba; I dance to 80’s music and I dance to Lady Gaga; I make even the Hoff look skillful on the dance floor. But thirty minutes later I’m exhausted, sweaty and feeling pretty damn good.
Wednesday night I go to yoga and my amazing instructor Leslie shares a story about her 95 year old grandmother-in-law, who’s being cared for in a facility run by nuns, a story that ends with an observation about how the nuns caring for her are happy no matter what their circumstances because they see God in everyone around them. She then related that to what we say at the end of each class – “Namaste” – or bowing to the divine light within ourselves and in others around us, a similar concept. She invited us to really think about what that means and finished the discussion with a quote she had recently read in Yoga Journal magazine that immediately spoke to me – “I’m dancing better with the Divine all the time.” Which, to me, means that every day I get better at recognizing the divine in myself and in others, hopefully leading to a happier, more peaceful, more compassionate DonnaLee. And I can’t help but marvel (yet again) how certain things occur coincidentally.
So…Tuesday night…was I dancing with myself? Or was I dancing with the Divine and just didn’t know it at the time?
Blessings and Love to All.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Sweet Mary
Twenty years ago (what?!), Mary was my Lamaze coach when I was pregnant with Taryn. On the night I went into labor (11 days early), she was on a date (and it may have been a first date) attending a New York Knicks basketball game at Madison Square Garden. Already in the throes of labor; and having been given the news that my mother was not available to help as she had been hospitalized for dizziness earlier in the day; AND getting little to no real assistance from my other coach, Janet (recently returned from a Florida vacation and in no condition to remember any of the Lamaze teachings); AND having alienated my brother by screaming at him “Why didn’t you tell me about Mommy?!” (he stuck around my apartment anyhow, just quietly and as unobtrusively as possible); AND being exhausted from working a full day followed by pacing back and forth for a few hours as contractions came and went; I finally beeped Mary (I know – “BEEPED” – can you imagine?) to let her know she was needed. And fast.
She was an unbelievable model of efficiency once she arrived at my apartment – timing contractions, calling the doctor, arranging the transportation to the hospital, guiding me through the breathing exercises (“Blow out the candle. Blow out the candle.”), and finally joining me in the delivery room at 2:21 in the morning for Taryn’s birth. (Note to readers: Try to avoid having a single, childless person as your birth coach. After observing my antics and sometimes-over-the-top histrionics, I am surprised Mary still chose to go ahead and have Cecelia and Alana. Glad she did – but still surprised.) She was the first person I told about my pregnancy and the first person (besides me of course) to hold Taryn.
I am to this day profoundly in awe of her calm handling of this momentous event, which kind of set the stage for the next 20 years, as Mary stepped up again and again over those years to provide sage advice, stalwart friendship and soothing compassion. I could fill several blog pages with examples of her kindness, not only to me but to family, friends, and strangers - but all of you probably know this, and have your own stories of Mary’s positive impact on your lives. And it continues – she recently took 3 hours out of her night (a school night for the kids, you know what that means – she had plenty of other things to do!) to offer me a needed sounding board, a few laughs, some wise words (all right MANY wise words) and an update on all things Mary (which I confess I don’t ask for often enough!). As always, I left feeling extremely grateful to have such a special person in my life – after all, who else but Mary could have insistently, patiently pressed forward to insure that Galaganza took place?
Throughout the years that I have known Mary, one thought has consistently come to mind when I think about her – being friends with her makes me a better person AND... makes me want to be an even better person than that. I am filled with admiration for her intelligence, her loyalty, her compassion, her achievements, her determination, her equanimity, her pragmatism, her thoughtfulness, her patience, her humor, and her seemingly endless generosity. I’m glad she’s on my side, and I’m equally glad that she will call me on it if I am wrong (yes, yes, it does happen on occasion). She has been tolerant of my flaws and a champion of my strengths. She has dealt with her own adversities with courage and resolve. She is a wonderful mother, wife, daughter, sister, aunt, cousin, friend, co-worker, etc. She has made more people smile than I could ever possibly count. Mary is simply - a pretty awesome human being.
Blessings and Love to All.
She was an unbelievable model of efficiency once she arrived at my apartment – timing contractions, calling the doctor, arranging the transportation to the hospital, guiding me through the breathing exercises (“Blow out the candle. Blow out the candle.”), and finally joining me in the delivery room at 2:21 in the morning for Taryn’s birth. (Note to readers: Try to avoid having a single, childless person as your birth coach. After observing my antics and sometimes-over-the-top histrionics, I am surprised Mary still chose to go ahead and have Cecelia and Alana. Glad she did – but still surprised.) She was the first person I told about my pregnancy and the first person (besides me of course) to hold Taryn.
I am to this day profoundly in awe of her calm handling of this momentous event, which kind of set the stage for the next 20 years, as Mary stepped up again and again over those years to provide sage advice, stalwart friendship and soothing compassion. I could fill several blog pages with examples of her kindness, not only to me but to family, friends, and strangers - but all of you probably know this, and have your own stories of Mary’s positive impact on your lives. And it continues – she recently took 3 hours out of her night (a school night for the kids, you know what that means – she had plenty of other things to do!) to offer me a needed sounding board, a few laughs, some wise words (all right MANY wise words) and an update on all things Mary (which I confess I don’t ask for often enough!). As always, I left feeling extremely grateful to have such a special person in my life – after all, who else but Mary could have insistently, patiently pressed forward to insure that Galaganza took place?
Throughout the years that I have known Mary, one thought has consistently come to mind when I think about her – being friends with her makes me a better person AND... makes me want to be an even better person than that. I am filled with admiration for her intelligence, her loyalty, her compassion, her achievements, her determination, her equanimity, her pragmatism, her thoughtfulness, her patience, her humor, and her seemingly endless generosity. I’m glad she’s on my side, and I’m equally glad that she will call me on it if I am wrong (yes, yes, it does happen on occasion). She has been tolerant of my flaws and a champion of my strengths. She has dealt with her own adversities with courage and resolve. She is a wonderful mother, wife, daughter, sister, aunt, cousin, friend, co-worker, etc. She has made more people smile than I could ever possibly count. Mary is simply - a pretty awesome human being.
Blessings and Love to All.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Crazy Train
My sister, Bonnie, who turned 50 years old this year, won’t go get a mammogram. This despite the fact that her sister has a history of breast cancer. She won’t see a doctor for a breast exam or for any other reason. This despite the fact that she has free lifetime medical coverage through the Veteran’s Administration, having served in the Coast Guard for 4 years. She won’t stop smoking, drinking excessively, eating poorly or living unhygienically (those of you who have seen her apartment know what I’m talking about!), and won’t exercise. Her “lifestyle” lands her in the ER about once a year with a dizzy/fainting spell, which she chalks up to “low potassium – I’ll just eat a banana.”
She writes off any family illnesses to factors not related in any way to her choices. Our mom’s pancreatic cancer, caused by years of smoking? Bonnie says, “Well, she had a death wish.” Our uncle’s (the one who smoked for 55 years) emphysema? Bonnie says, “Well, he had asthma as a kid.” Our stepfather’s liver cancer? Bonnie says, “That’s because he eats so poorly.” Not because his drinking led to cirrhosis, which led to the tumors. My breast cancer? I haven’t had the nerve to ask what she thinks about that (although she probably thinks my uncontrollable obsession with shoes is a factor) and I know better than to get into a serious discussion with her about this, since any of my knowledge about the matter is summarily rejected.
In a recent go-around we had about my stepfather (who, by the way, is actually doing well despite his diagnosis – he’s vacationing in Italy with his lady friend!), Bonnie asserted she believes that all cancers are caused when someone “has an operation, and they get cut open, and the bad air and germs get in from the hospital into the open wound.” Now I realize it’s not ridiculous that some people do acquire infections and such as a result of surgery. Been there – I got an infection when my port was removed several years ago. I also know this way of thinking is not entirely uncommon among some cultures, and was certainly in vogue at a certain point in our medical evolution. And as a matter of fact, I don’t know the cause(s) of my cancer (C’mon! It’s NOT shoes!). But I can’t help it – I think she is just plain crazy.
Is she in denial? Perhaps – it sure sounds like she has (subconsciously?) constructed a scenario that insures she “won’t” get cancer. No doctors, no tests, no surgeries, no cancer! And I’m sure it does not escape her that the healthiest sibling in the family is the one who got sick – why give up smoking, drinking, eating poorly, and a sedentary life? It sure didn’t help me! Is she dead set (uh, no pun intended. Well, maybe a little intended) on dying early so as not to die alone? I know it is one of her fears, and she does believe that my mother “waited” to see a doctor until it was too late because of the very same fear (She didn’t. She regularly saw her doctors, and took her medications as directed. Just can’t stop cancer sometimes).
My sister is not unintelligent. But her ability to reason, to understand, to comprehend truth diminishes every year and it makes me sad. She has a good heart, a wonderful sense of humor, a genuine love of family, and an abundance of artistic talent. But these qualities get lost by her belligerent drunkenness, her misguided memories, her crudeness and carelessness. I have long since gotten used to the insanity that occurs whenever I am in close proximity to Bonnie (we all have – even the kids are wary of “kooky Auntie Bon”), but I still wish she’d hop off the train and visit Reality for a little bit. Because I love her and I’d really like her to be around a lot longer.
It’s been a truly wonderful summer. Here’s hoping fall and winter are similarly spectacular.
Blessings and Love to All.
She writes off any family illnesses to factors not related in any way to her choices. Our mom’s pancreatic cancer, caused by years of smoking? Bonnie says, “Well, she had a death wish.” Our uncle’s (the one who smoked for 55 years) emphysema? Bonnie says, “Well, he had asthma as a kid.” Our stepfather’s liver cancer? Bonnie says, “That’s because he eats so poorly.” Not because his drinking led to cirrhosis, which led to the tumors. My breast cancer? I haven’t had the nerve to ask what she thinks about that (although she probably thinks my uncontrollable obsession with shoes is a factor) and I know better than to get into a serious discussion with her about this, since any of my knowledge about the matter is summarily rejected.
In a recent go-around we had about my stepfather (who, by the way, is actually doing well despite his diagnosis – he’s vacationing in Italy with his lady friend!), Bonnie asserted she believes that all cancers are caused when someone “has an operation, and they get cut open, and the bad air and germs get in from the hospital into the open wound.” Now I realize it’s not ridiculous that some people do acquire infections and such as a result of surgery. Been there – I got an infection when my port was removed several years ago. I also know this way of thinking is not entirely uncommon among some cultures, and was certainly in vogue at a certain point in our medical evolution. And as a matter of fact, I don’t know the cause(s) of my cancer (C’mon! It’s NOT shoes!). But I can’t help it – I think she is just plain crazy.
Is she in denial? Perhaps – it sure sounds like she has (subconsciously?) constructed a scenario that insures she “won’t” get cancer. No doctors, no tests, no surgeries, no cancer! And I’m sure it does not escape her that the healthiest sibling in the family is the one who got sick – why give up smoking, drinking, eating poorly, and a sedentary life? It sure didn’t help me! Is she dead set (uh, no pun intended. Well, maybe a little intended) on dying early so as not to die alone? I know it is one of her fears, and she does believe that my mother “waited” to see a doctor until it was too late because of the very same fear (She didn’t. She regularly saw her doctors, and took her medications as directed. Just can’t stop cancer sometimes).
My sister is not unintelligent. But her ability to reason, to understand, to comprehend truth diminishes every year and it makes me sad. She has a good heart, a wonderful sense of humor, a genuine love of family, and an abundance of artistic talent. But these qualities get lost by her belligerent drunkenness, her misguided memories, her crudeness and carelessness. I have long since gotten used to the insanity that occurs whenever I am in close proximity to Bonnie (we all have – even the kids are wary of “kooky Auntie Bon”), but I still wish she’d hop off the train and visit Reality for a little bit. Because I love her and I’d really like her to be around a lot longer.
It’s been a truly wonderful summer. Here’s hoping fall and winter are similarly spectacular.
Blessings and Love to All.
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