Wednesday, April 26, 2017

Book Reports: one fiction, one fact

Isn't it amazing that you can read totally different kinds of books and love so many of them?  And yet at other times you feel you are in a book drought, you try many and none of them work for you, none of them grab you, none nourish you like rain does?  OK, that was a stupid sentence but I was trying out the drought metaphor. It didn't work but I am leaving it as a reminder how over-thinking about writing can get so easily out of hand. I will probably come back tomorrow and change it. 

Back to books: "The Invention of Nature: Alexander von Humboldt's New World" by Andrea Wulf.  What an extraordinary story about Humboldt, an explorer and a scientist and an amazing observer of nature. Yes, it is a biography of Humboldt but it takes you into more than just his life. If you pay attention you can see that Humboldt is one of the first environmental champions of the natural world. He travels all over the world, collects plants, studies them, brings them back to France and Germany and even shares his findings with President Thomas Jefferson. Wulf is an engaging writer and makes this story of a life lived in exploration come alive. Sometimes these kinds of books bore me after the first hundred pages but because of the way she excitedly tells about Humboldt's journeys and encounters, you just want to keep reading.  I seriously recommend this book if you like biography or nature or cool explorers or just a fine recounting of a life. It is a very good book.

A fiction story: "Perfect Little World" by Kevin Wilson. The premise is one that would normally turn me against even putting the book on my library list, but I read a few reviews and so I gave it a shot.  Glad I did. A young, single, pregnant woman gets recruited to be in a study of a new kind of "communal" group raising ten kids. Too much new age stuff could have been rife here but the story focuses on the young woman and her interaction with the other participants in the 7 year group dynamic and it's really all about learning to live in some kind of society, learning to share, learning to love, coming to terms with what family actually is.  Some of it is trite and contrived, but hey, it's fiction after all.  The first 70 pages were slow but once the "family" gets together and their small group connects, the book takes off.  I understand a lot of the criticisms of the book but I also liked the matter of fact tone of how this strange clan was really pretty normal.  Bottom line, it's just a good story that I enjoyed.  That's what it's all about, isn't it?

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Monday, April 24, 2017

A chicken and a dog walk into a bar to watch a movie.

I know, a dumb title, but there it is.

A couple of months ago I posted about roasting a chicken and how my standard method over these past thirty years has been to roast it in a relatively hot oven. But that method had disappointed me recently.  Last night I roasted my chicken in a slow oven for two hours and it was most excellent.  The skin was crisp, the meat was tender and juicy and almost falling off the bone. I basted it a couple of times and there was a lot of delicious juice produced which rarely happens when you use a hot oven. And it didn't smoke up the kitchen, which always happens in a hot oven. I roasted asparagus and carrots alongside the chicken and made a little salad of arugula and homemade croutons, put the chicken on the salad and drizzled it with the juices from the chicken and had a lovely glass of Zinfandel with it and licked my fingers when finished.  I was happy and the chicken was happy.  Win-win.  (Well, I cannot actually speak for the chicken's state of happiness, but it tasted happy.) 

With all the incredible blooming plants in my neighborhood right now, I think my little dog Cooper has developed allergies!  I have never seen so many things bursting out of their buds at one time: roses, lilies, tulips, rhododendrons, azaleas, flowering trees, wild and domestic grasses, gladiolus, and on and on.  When walking, Cooper likes to stick his nose in things and I think he has gotten his snout full of pollen. He is sneezing and sneezing. It isn't that there is anything caught in his nose, but there is something that is making him sneeze.  Benadryl helps a bit but it also makes him totally stoned and sleepy, which is sort of amusing in a mean dog-owner kind of way.  Not really mean, mind you, but he becomes a bit of an object to laugh at. In talking to other dog owners, it seems that several dogs are experiencing similar symptoms. There's just too much pollen in the air this year. 

Movie: Netflix has the movie "The Prestige" streaming for free.  I have wanted to see this movie for years and finally watched it last night. Directed and written by Christopher Nolan, it is very cerebral and tricky and completely non-linear timewise. It's about magic, one of my favorite subjects and it is very, very good.  Great cast: Hugh Jackman, Christian Bale, Michael Caine, Scarlett Johansson.  Magic, betrayal, rivalry, trickery, it's a movie that demands your attention. This is not a movie to watch casually while you make dinner. It's a movie to watch intently after dinner is finished.  Check it out.

A delicious chicken, a stoned dog and an engaging movie. A good combo for a nice Sunday evening. 

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Thursday, April 20, 2017

I see you there, with the rose in your teeth, one more thin gypsy thief.

For some reason, Leonard Cohen is on my mind. If you like him, here are some videos of him live. If you don't like him or don't care, that's fine, too. I like these, so this is really for me to come back and find quickly. Although it's to share as well because we can find anything we like, any artists we like, instantly on youtube.

I guess that I miss you, I guess I forgive you, I'm glad that you stood in my way.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YrLk4vdY28Q


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8IfmiKnZi3E


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DHqqlm9yf7M


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6o6zMPLcXZ8


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2sZzJAxfD-4

There are places I'll remember all my life, though some have changed....

It happens so suddenly and so randomly. It's not like I am pining for my Mom, it was her time to go, but the situations in which I think of her are more often than I would have thought.  I walk past a storefront and see silk flowers in the window and think "oh, I was going to buy Mom some silk flowers to replace those stupid plastic ones in her room."  I read an article in the NY Times that she would have liked. I often printed out articles and opinion pieces and mailed them to Mom because she still read a lot and she appreciated reading good things. I walk past a See's Candy shop and I walk in to get a piece of candy and I want to tell the woman who sells me this candy that the last time I was in this store was to buy my Mom four of their truffles  because Mom loved See's Candy. But I just buy my lemon truffle and say nothing. I hear a Bob Dylan song and I remember that Dylan was banned from our house in the 1960's because Mom thought he was subversive. And I want to joke with Mom about that.

I drink a little Irish Whiskey and I wish I had brought Mom a taste of it in the last month or so because she liked Bushmills. And she loved her brandy Manhattans, I should have snuck one into her room now and then. These are things that don't make me regretful, they just remind me of Mom.

And the list goes on and on. It's not a sad recollection, of course, it's simply a reminder to do what you want when you want it.  Mom did a lot of things in her life, but there is so much now that gives me a nudge about how short our time is and how rich we can make it if we make the choices we want. 

I hope this doesn't sound too flowery or weepy or whatever. It is just what's on my mind right now.

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Monday, April 17, 2017

And this dying stuff, it is really exhausting!

There are slow arriving repercussions that I was not prepared for, of course.  Mom gets the Death Sentence, we siblings take the Death Vigil in any way we can, I get the last day and the most gruesome in many ways, and one thinks whew!  That's over.  Moving on. But the physical toll is not one I did not anticipate. I don't feel sad or depressed, but I am really, really tired.  Like I could sleep all day. I don't because life gets in the way, cars need to get smogged, groceries need to be purchased, bills need to be paid. But right now at 9:09 I am thinking that going to bed sounds perfect. 

What is it that makes us so tired? I didn't do any physical activity other than standing at the bedside, every molecule of my body tense, my jaw clenched, my fists clenched, my entire being longing to be somewhere, anywhere else.  I could hardly look at my mother and I wished I was deaf for a couple of hours, all I wanted to do was run away, but I stayed until my body was shaking. Then I had to leave.

Well, OK. I get it, sort of.  But that was four days ago, I should be over it by now.  Maybe tomorrow I will be.  Cooper and I take long, long walks and that feels very good. I still can't read much of substance and I have watched very little on TV except old film noir stuff from the 1940's. For some reason the overly dramatic "Sit down and shut up and do what I tell you" dialogue works for me right now.  Even "Law and Order" seemed too complicated. 

Thanks for listening. 

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Saturday, April 15, 2017

What to read while you wait for someone to die.

I know, it's a flippant title, but somewhat salient, actually. Talking to my sister Kate on Thursday as we made our way to the local mortuary which was really a crematorium place, we talked about the fact that while we are both big readers, we couldn't really do much reading this week. There is the distraction factor, waiting for another sibling to call and give an update of Mom's condition that day (or in the past two hours), which sort of makes it difficult to concentrate on anything remotely serious.  Then there are the emotional and psychological factors that are present when waiting for one's mother to die, which are even more distracting and disturbing and which render one's powers of concentration nil.  And of course, still having to go to work and pretend that all is well.

Kate did crossword puzzles and Sudoku type puzzles. I read trashy novels.  For example, when I got home from work on Wednesday, after having at least five conversations with Kate, Joe and Steve, I sat down and began to read a Robert Parker novel. I read for two hours, made a little dinner and read for another two hours and voila!  The book was finished and I went to bed.  I find that Robert Parker is perfect: very little brain power is required, the characters and plot are simple and there are just enough twists and turns to keep the reader engaged but not too much cerebral stuff to make the reader confused.  Very important. 

Robert Parker wrote dozens of books about the private eye Spencer. He also wrote a handful of books about a cop in a small town on the East Coast, the town was named Paradise and the character named Jesse Stone. Those are also good to read, a little more involved than the Spencer novels but not by much. I read two of those in the past three days.

I think Agatha Christie would have worked as well.  

I couldn't watch TV unless it was mindless, like "Law and Order." Music, no, couldn't listen to anything except old Beatles, stuff I knew well.  This entire past week, from Friday to Friday I was house and dog sitting at a mansion in the Santa Rosa hills and the best part was that it was not mine, none of my stuff was in it, and it had a million dollar mansion view. Sitting and staring was perfect for me. I could not have done that at my place since there is no view and thus, nothing to stare at. 

So the week went by, we watched Mom get weaker and sicker and finally, Thursday, the end.

I hope that soon I can pick up a book, something with substance, and be able to read it. I am sure it will happen.

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Thursday, April 13, 2017

and now, just the death part........

I was out at Mom's today, and I was not prepared for the change in her from Monday. I had talked to Steve and Joe and Kate, all of whom had seen her in Tuesday and Wednesday but still.  Because of the quick downward spiral, and I guess because of what was going on in her body, it was difficult for her to breathe.  It sounded like a person drowning in her own lungs, like phlegm was her only breathing device, not air.  And there were other details that I will leave out.  Suffice it to day, from 9:00 until 2:30, when I left, it got more and more difficult to bear. 

I only hope Mom was not conscious of anything. I held her hand, her eyes were open often, but there was no response from her at any time, so I hope she was unaware of it all.

The health care person encountered some things outside of her realm and she called for a nurse.  A registered nurse arrived about 2:15. We explained what was happening and the nurse was totally on board with everything, was going to do an assessment of Mom's condition at that moment.  I knew I could do nothing to help and I was already a bit shaky because of some stuff that was happening.  I bowed out.  Everyone in the room, the nurse, two student nurses and the health care person gave me a hug, which was so, so kind.  When I left, I kissed Mom on the forehead and told her that it was fine for her to go any time, just to let it all go.

Fifteen minutes later I got the call that Mom had died. My first response was "oh, thank god." There was such relief on my part, I didn't want her to go through another night of that terrible, labored, hurtful breathing. 

There is so much more I can say but I will say it in the next couple of days. I am really glad I was there today, in one sense, but really sad at the same time. It was a very difficult day for me. I do not have the beside manner that some of my siblings have.  I want answers now, I want to know who is coming to help, I want to know who is giving Mom the morphine when I leave, on and on.  But the people helping her were so kind, and so understanding and so concerned about me, it was amazing. 

Whew.  What a week. She was in the hospital last Friday and released because there was nothing to be done and now, 7 days later, she is gone.  A quick exit and she is on to the next level. For her, she believed in heaven, so I hope for her she gets there.

It is beautiful outside right now, I am still at the mansion for this last evening, and I am going to take my small (!) glass of Scotch outside and salute Mom and my incredible siblings who were so amazing during all of this.

Just a note:  there are things I would have liked my Mom to see in her life.  If you have a Mom, and you think "Hey, Mom would love to see this" then make sure you take her.  It doesn't matter what it is.  I regret that Mom never got to meet Sam, a youngster I took care of for a while when he was an infant. Mom saw photos of him all the time.  She often asked how Sam was doing and she would have enjoyed meeting him.  I regret that I didn't take Mom to a French restaurant and let her taste foie gras.  And I should have taken her out to the ocean in the last ten years of her life.  But those are small regrets.  Mostly, it was nice to have her around and get to take her out for coffee and take her on little car rides.   Be  nice to your Moms.  

later.
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Monday, April 10, 2017

Death and taxes

Well, I used  that title because "Death" on its own is too dire.  But that's really the point of this. It's short, there will be follow up later this week.

Last Monday, April 3, I took my Mom out for coffee and a drive. We had a lovely visit, saw all kinds of flowering trees and shrubs and greenery.  She was in a good mood and was strong and moved pretty well.

On Wednesday she was in the hospital.  On Thursday they did a CT scan and found a large mass on her liver that had ruptured and was leaching blood into her stomach. 

On Friday she was released from the hospital and we took her back to her little room at the board and care home, with Hospice in place, drugs at the ready and we acknowledged that she has just a few days, maybe a week, left.

Today I went to see her with Jenn and Gabe in tow. She is pretty out of it, not very conscious and not very aware. However, she did eventually recognize us, and we held her hands and just huddled around and either talked softly to Mom or amongst ourselves. She isn't in much pain (thank goodness for morphine) but her breathing is rather labored and it doesn't look like she has many more days in her.  The quicker she goes, the better for everyone, especially for her.

It was good the kids got to see her.  I will go back on Thursday, if she is still with us. I seem to be fine about it, I think we all are, mainly because this happened suddenly and it's time for her to finish whatever journey she began 67 years ago.

More later.