Tank Park Salute

I wrote this some months ago.

In the week since my former father in law passed away, I have found myself overwhelmed with sadness and grief.  I see older men with their wives, limping slightly and I have a flash of anger.  Anger that they are here and he is gone.

I'm amazed by my brain.  How could I think such a thing? 

So anathema to who he was, each day of his life. 

I looked to him to see how to respond to something like this.

This is the man who helped paint my children's room before they were born.  He helped me buy three of my past four cars.  He bought the ipod for me so I was able to start listening to podcasts.  I am still in shock - I'm not sure that I can even comprehend what this loss means for me and my children.

I take comfort in knowing that he loved me and was proud of me.  Despite divorcing his son.

When I moved out, the movers didn't show up.  He (and my ex) were there with friends.  He helped me move into my new place. He said to let him know if I needed anything, and he meant it.

One of the last times I saw him, I mentioned to him that I was reading the Hamilton biography.  I wanted to give it to him afterwards.  I wanted him to read it as well., so we could talk about it.  I would like to think he would have done that.  He mentioned that he wasn't impressed by Hamilton.

Few people in one's life will love you unconditionally.  Love without any expectation of reciprocity.  I was fortunate to have my former father in law who believed in me.  With no strings attached.  He and my former mother in law helped me go to night school to go into IT.  When the twins were born, they would take a weekend and stay up all night with the twins so their dad and I could sleep for 8 precious hours.

This grief is a knot that may never come undone.  Logically, I know this is the way he wanted to go.  Peacefully (is death ever peaceful?) in his sleep.  Not after a long illness.  With all of his wits about him, completely independent. 

I'm almost certain I had a conversation with him about this very thing.

As a former daughter in law, my position is tenuous and intensely awkward.  My presence is not wanted.  There is some sort of competition in this grief. It must be threatening that I loved my father in law too.  Just because I divorced their son, doesn't mean I loved them any less. 

Truth will prevail, and this truth prevails.

A death benefit or the last two weeks of life

It should come as no surprise that humans are uncomfortable with death and mortality.  American culture is obsessed with youth.  We don't want to admit to aging or dying.  I would be happy to show anyone the rows of aging creams in any pharmacy.

I listened recently to this great podcast

from This American Life about loopholes.  In it, a lawyer had read the small print and figured out an investment opportunity with annuities (sadly the loophole has been closed).  He contacted someone who was terminally ill.  I will over-simplify it, but if they agreed to sign forms, an unrelated investor would receive their entire original investment plus interest (even if there was a loss) upon the original person's demise.  The investor didn't have to be related in any way to the terminally ill patient.  For this agreement, the patient would receive thousands of dollars in cash. 

One daughter (in the program) explained that her mom really appreciated the money before she passed on.  When she went to the  mall with her grandson, she could buy him the things he wanted; she wouldn't have been able to afford them before.  The daughter said it meant a lot to her mom during her last days.

There are many issues with funding medicare.  Medicare costs keep spiraling.  And it's a sobering statistic that 80% of of the spending occurs in the last two weeks of life*.  That fact is shocking to me.  I know we are uncomfortable with death.  We hate it, we rage against it.  People are especially uncomfortable with losing parents and loved ones.

But we are bankrupting our country because we can't admit the truth, that we are dying and our loved ones will die.  (How does the cliche go?  The things that won't change - death and taxes). 

The pragmatist in me pondered the annuity idea and this medicare fact.  What if, like in the podcast, we gave terminally ill people a choice.  The government would give a portion of the money ($20,000, $50,000) cash to a family in the above situation.  The person/family then agreed that they would get only palliative care - do not resuscitate, manage pain, etc.

If I were terminally ill and near death - I would much rather have that money to spend at the end of my life.  I would want my children to have that money after I'm gone.  I would rather they have a nice vacation or pay down debt than have that money go to doctors and hospitals.

Money is such a driving force in our culture.  At times, it seems like we are selling our souls (what makes us human, what makes us unique).  But the profit motive cannot be denied. 

Most people make decisions based on finances, at least partially based on finances.  There are many other factors, but finances are often key. 

 People wouldn't be forced to take the money.  But it seems to me that when there is a financial incentive, people are much more willing to make a tough choice. 

Some may say (like the above lawyer's actions) that this is immoral or unethical.  It's true that issues of life and death are incredibly complex.   But we as a country are already steeply involved in these issues. We are keeping people on feeding tubes and ventilators because we can't bear to let their bodies go.  And some of these people were frugal during their lives.  Maybe they would take the sugar packets from restaurants.  Maybe they would drive five extra miles to save $.10 in gas.   They would be shocked and saddened to find out that their children and the government had spent $200,000, $500,000 or more in their last two weeks.

I support medicare - I support caring for our aging and infirm elderly.  But I also support making the hard choices and decisions; in recognizing what we are really paying for. 

Just because we can keep someone's body alive, doesn't always mean we should. 

*I searched for the original reference to this statistic, and I can't find it.  But it's clear from the news link, we (the government) spend(s) a lot of money during the last few months of life, and often in the ICU (which is very expensive). 

Anger into action

Recently I've found myself getting overwhelmed with anger about a few issues.

For some of the issues, I have every right to be angry. Some involve things that happened in the past, long ago. The things that happened in the past I can't do anything about.

So I've been exploring what it is that I am really angry about. Is my anger justified - what am I scared of (is there any fear there).

I realize that dwelling on my anger (are women supposed to be angry??) doesn't help anyone. Certainly it doesn't help me live and enjoy my life, it doesn't help my marriage or my relationship with my kids. All it does is leave a bad taste in my mouth.

(As an aside, I didn't realize just how angry I was for a long time. Now my struggle is focusing my anger into acknowledgment and then productive anger. And accepting the past as something I can't change).

A friend once told me that being angry about other people's actions or behaviors is like taking the poison yourself and expecting the other person to get sick. I agree.

In one of the cases, with my anger towards a work situation, I figured out there is something I can do. There are actions I can take that I have taken (calmly). I've figured out what my triggers are in the situation (perceiving that I'm being taken advantage of), and the risks of me speaking out (and the risks of not speaking out).

The relief and empowerment that I've felt by speaking up - despite awkwardness - have been palpable. Even if changes don't happen, I have choices - and that is priceless.

I find that many seemingly immovable situations or things in my life change over time. They are like glaciers. It seems like some of these "truths" are unchanging but there is change going on - just slowly. And I realize that I change over time, my perceptions of what's going on change as well.

How this relates to mormonism? There may be things that can be changed - requests that a person can make here in the present in some  family situations. 

Being open to thinking about those changes - being open to the possibility of action can be freeing (to my mind). I can't say what those requests might be - but figuring out if there are little parts of the glacier that I can chip at. There are boundaries I can set. There are people I don't have to talk to or be around. There are people I can be around that I don't discuss certain issues with (like faith or mormonism).

Figuring out the things that I'm angry about that I literally cannot do anything to change has been very helpful (a great example for me has been the mormon.org billboard that I drive past when taking my kids to school). 

It should come as no surprise to anyone here, I disagree with that use of funds by the LDS church.  With all the desperate need in this world, I disagree with advertising the diversity of the LDS church (I disagree that the LDS church is really a diverse organization).  So I can focus on that disagreement every time I pass the billboard, or I can accept that I can't change all of those things and let it go.

There are quite a few things that I am angry about that I can't do anything to change. I've thought about it, extensively, and there's nothing I can do. So when I'm aware of that, I choose to let my immediate anger go - realizing - I can't do anything about this, and so I choose not to dwell on my anger about it.

Identical Strangers

In some discussions with people this week, I realized I hadn't reviewed this book yet here.  I originally heard about it on npr (not surprisingly), and was fascinated.  At this link, there is a brief story about the book and an excerpt. 

As the mother, I can't imagine separating my twins.  Yes, they currently have separate rooms, but not raising them together, not allowing them to interact.  Not allowing them to know from an early age that they have a sibling born on the same day.

I can't imagine the ethics of separating twins either.  It's true, the first few months of their lives were really, really difficult for me.  Having one newborn is difficult enough - but two is even more difficult.  Because they don't sleep at the same time!

Before reading this book, I didn't think separating twins was a good idea.  Afterwards, I find I disagree with it strongly.  Particularly separating twins for research - no matter how valuable the data gained may be. 

I am also someone who supports psychological research into mental health and illness.  Also I support research into the genetic causes for various diseases and behaviors.  It is important. 

We can draw lines with experimenting on human beings and we should.  If experiementation is done, it needs to have the proper consent and review by ethics panels.  This is definitely something worth talking about as a society (where the lines are) - because it's not always clear.  If the research may harm the participants, the proposal should be denied. Of course, harm is also difficult to define - again, why the panels and review are important.

Finally, I believe that the archives should be opened so these women can see the research findings on them personally.  The researchers studied them until they were a year old, but I think they have a right to that information. 

I believe the archives are currently closed for another thirty to fifty years.  And there were other adoptees who were studied, separately, for longer. Some who may not realize that they have a twin sibling.  It seems like the plot of a gothic novel, but it was real, and the people involved were genuine. 

In the end, again, I know the "nature vs. nurture" question is compelling.  For some things, however, does it matter why?  Some things are the way they are.  There aren't any easy answers, obviously, if there were we would have found them already.

Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister

When one thinks of the cinderella fairy tale, I typically think of either the disney version, or this Caldecott award winning version.


Cinderella is good and sweet to everyone, despite being forced to labor for her wicked step-mother and step-sisters.

So Gregory MaGuire's version was quite refreshing - because the story was more complicated and the characters more complex than the stereotypes. I liked the novel more than Wicked, as it was more semi-based in reality (set during the tulip bulb mania in the Netherlands during the seventeenth century).

If you would like to read the novel and are not interested in spoilers, you may want to stop reading now.


***SPOILERS AHEAD****

One of the things I've been musing about recently is what motivates a person to change. I think "Confessions" does an excellent job of explaining when a person will change - and includes the prices that we pay for change.

I think a person will not change until he or she is completely ready to - until they can no longer "make it work". They choose to do something different only at the time when getting by stops working.

That's when a person will do something different - not usually before.

How this leads back to "Confessions" is that Clara, the Cinderella character, is in a deep depression over the death of her mother. She was raised to have certain privileges (some might say spoiled) - and she (Clara) can't deal with the changes or her own grief. Her father is unresponsive and won't defend his daughter against the tyranny of her (new) step-mother. The reader has sympathy for her/Clara (I have sympathy for her) - but then she becomes a martyr of sorts - choosing to spend her time in the kitchen and in the "cinders".

In the sense of - I'm not going to try and make my life (or my family's life) better, I'm going to sit here and feel sorry for myself.

Now, to some extent, Clara has lots of reason to feel sorry for herself, and she is in a tenuous position. And there is a time to mourn and really acknowledge one's feelings. I'm not trying to diminish that.

Where the change comes into account is when the step sister hero (Iris) talks Clara into going to the ball/party - which Clara initially doesn't want to do. She doesn't want to change, she doesn't want her situation to get any better - despite the fact the family is going broke. At least, in misery, in martyrdom, she knows what will happen. She has the illusion of control over the situation.

And she (Clara) has the ability to change every one's fate (including her own), by entering into a so-called good marriage. For whatever reason, after this conversation, Clara decides that she is willing to help herself - to leave that situation. To make things better - even though whatever she is going into may not be the ideal.

And in the end, it's clear that it's not "happily ever after", Clara has simply made the choice to step into adulthood, support those she loves and live how she can.

I just think it's interesting to think about (and study) how we hold ourselves back, how we make excuses about why we don't want to change or think of things differently. Why we don't want to examine new information or try out new ways of doing things/relating to others. Why we can't accept the bad things that have happened to us - the bad situations that we're in, and try to make them better.

Life isn't as simple as black or white - good or evil.

I appreciate art/fiction that goes into the gray - the space between black and white. I've found much of life is gray. There (usually) aren't good and bad choices, there are just choices. And everyone has to make them.

Acceptance

Asking why is not always useful.

That's my thought for today. Specifically, why someone may suffer from a specific disease/illness. Genetic research might help, but in the end, for some things there is just not an easy answer.

I've talked before about the illusion of choice here, how there were all sorts of things that were pre-determined for me before I was born. And then the community I grew up in, the schools I went to, experiences I've had. All have shaped my attitudes and how I got to this exact place.

It must be acceptance - the notion of accepting things I have no control over (like my genetics). This can be very difficult for a person. But I believe once we accept certain things, like having high cholesterol or suffering from depression; we can begin to move on.

I've talked about comparing relationship and life decisions to poker hands before here. **

There is a reason that the phrase " the luck of the draw" exists. Some people get a "good"/workable set of cards and others don't. That's just life.

A person can spend all their energy trying to figure out why they were dealt certain set of cards. But at some point, all any of us can do is to accept what is and move on. It's saying "I'm at point x. So what can I do with what I have?"

For some people, it takes longer than others.

**The amusing thing is, when the cards have played out, the jack/nine I had didn't work. It was almost a hand of three three's instead. But I'm still employed two years later, which is what matters.