I Am Afraid, Am I Alone?

I am at the point where my gut is twisting and my sense of helplessness is turning into rage.  Do I just withdraw from the world…no TV, no newspapers, no social media, no contact with anything or anyone outside my own safe circle, my cocoon, my womb?

I have never claimed to be a political strategist.  I am not one to enter debates on who is correct, the left or the right.  I am not a member of either major political party.  I vote in every election and I allow my own internal compass to guide my choices.  I was raised with a certain set of beliefs and in my 77 years of living have come to embrace an approach to living in a society that is inclusive, accepting, compassionate, and gives the benefit of the doubt.  I often think, “there but for the grace of God, go I.”  Sometimes this makes me feel wishy-washy and I ask myself, what do I stand for?  I try not to judge the choices of others because I do not live in their skin and their reality is not my reality.  I hope that their choices “do no harm” and I try to ensure that my choices do no harm either.  I try to surround myself with those who are “life-giving” to me, that lift me up and do not drain energy from me like a pin puncture in a balloon.  I believe that we are all just trying to do life.  For me, this gives me a sense of peace that includes tremendous gratitude for the joy in my life.

I have always been proud to be an American.  I still get teary when I sing the national anthem.  It fills my heart to think that the US is an ally to so many other nations and that with them, has tried to protect and preserve life.  As a grandchild of immigrants, I appreciate having had the ability to have opportunities and choices to improve my life available to me.  I always want our country to be a light in the darkness.

In recent years, I have become aware that what I was taught as a child, from adults, textbooks, teachers and other voices of authority has not been accurate or even the truth; that there is a much bigger picture.  I now understand that the victors write the history looking through their window which only tells their version and I have tried to pursue the truth through my own reading and listening.  It is often upsetting and saddening, but I have trusted in the structure of our government.  I have believed that our constitution and founding fathers design a system of government that has checks and balances, that our congress (senators and representatives) is the voice of the people, and that no one person can harm the country because the rest would stand up for what is in keeping with who we are as a nation.  And I have carried the trust and hope that in the end, things will self-correct.  Today, I feel so naive.

Since 2016 I have watched the division that has threatened to destroy our nation.  I have watched my neighborhood, organizations, friends and family become polarized.  I have seen people I know and care about take a position that is not aligned with my approach to life.  I have respected their right to do so, knowing I don’t have to agree with them.  I have even thought that some of this chaos is good.  We are talking about things that have always been unspoken or unacknowledged.  I know that change can only occur by “unfreezing” the status quo and that can seem messy.  But recently, I find my heart troubled and I feel afraid.  I do not see any self-correcting action occurring and I do not trust, in any way, the captain of this run-away train.

This morning, I read this article in The Atlantic magazine, Trump Goes All In On Racism, and I felt sick-to-my-stomach.  Anxiety seemed to wash over me.  This weekend I spent time loving my two youngest grandchildren and I felt afraid for them.  They still have a life ahead of them, they are little, innocent, multi-racial and dependent upon the adults to preserve their world.

I do not support, nor approve of, nor excuse the actions, words, or approaches demonstrated by Donald Trump.  The deceit and out-right lies erode our nation’s sense of identity.  Being allowed to speak as a racist and “proud of it” with no backlash is intolerable to me.  I am no longer entertained by the absurdities pointed out by television comedians.  I can no longer roll my eyes and say that is just who he is.   I am afraid.  I’m afraid that our nation is becoming numb to his outrageousness.  And this numbness is going to be smoke screen that will keep us from seeing in time, a destruction of all I hold dear.  

I used to remain silent when others defended him by saying, “Look at how strong the economy is!”  “Look at the employment figures.”  “I may not like him as a person but he seems good for the country!”  I didn’t know how to argue against that even though it felt wrong to me.  Do the ends justify the means?  And what about unintended consequences?

In Italian we have a word, “BASTA!”  It means “Enough!”  My grandparents used to say it to us children when we were running wild and making noise.  My heart is screaming, “BASTA!” to Donald Trump and I really don’t know what to do.  Am I alone in this?

I Am A Blessed Woman - Life in 2018

It has been months since I have posted a blog.  I guess that means I "have a life!"  The other day Charlotte told me that she laughs when someone will comment on how nice it is for her to have a mother-in-love who is so available to her to help out with the kids. She said they think I am just sitting around the house waiting for her to call.  She told them she has to calendar her needs in advance so they get on my calendar!

As December 31st approaches, I consider how fortunate Jay and I are to have such a rich life...rich in people we love, good friends, good health, stimulating activities and beautiful setting in Southern California.  Here are the highlights of the year for us and for our family.

This year:

Jay and I traveled... to Seattle, Montreal, Quebec, Athens and the Greek Isles.

I stopped coloring my hair and claimed my natural color.

Gabriel made a touchdown!

Jessie started attending Annie’s Newport Academy at Phases.

Joe continued to grow his dog-boarding business in Acton with a special emphasis on dog rescue.

Marc continued to grow his business with new clients (Indian Motorcycle), moved to new quarters and traveled to Germany and Italy for clients.

Mike is in his 24^th season working with the LA Kings/AEG and received a promotion to Vice President, Marketing, Communications and Content.

Gabriel got his driver’s license.

I started training to be a Los Serreno Docent at the PV Interpretive Center.

Gino transitioned to a Montessori Preschool.

I attended Michelle Obama’s Book Tour “Becoming” with Milli and Charlotte.

Had “Mondays with Mima” every week with Gino and Jessie.

We acquired a Chinese Grandson when Phoenix arrived as a foreign exchange student to Mike and Milli’s.

I rode on the Goodyear Blimp with my brother, Fred.

Jay bought new golf clubs!

I made seat-covers for our golf cart.

Walked and talked regularly with my BFF Cindy.  Better than the best therapist!! She keeps me honest.

We attended Water Aerobic classes

Jay and I finally took care of our "last wishes" and made our cremation arrangements!

Gabriel had his first “hockey fight” and received a 2 game suspension.

Attended Grandparents Day with Gabriel and Phoenix.

I joined a Writers' Group.

We participated in Omnilore classes and the Omnilore Curriculum committee.

I knit 15 items.

I read 70 Books and continued to participate in our Best Sellers' Book Group.

So I would say we squeezed every ounce of goodness, happiness and love out of our 365 days while making a real effort to only focusing on the positive and sweeping away the negative. (Yes, there was negative too!)  Thank you to all of you who are part of the fabric of our lives. 

I am a blessed woman!

I Am A Grandmother - Sickened By Today's News

This morning I picked up the LA Times and the Wall Street Journal to see what was happening in the world.  (Yes, we still have paper subscriptions delivered to our home!)  My heart was full as I sipped my coffee and turned the pages.  Jay and I had just spent last evening baby-sitting with Gino, aged 3 ½, and Jessie, aged 21 months, while their parents attended a wedding.  Experiencing their happy, animated antics is such a joy for us and we are grateful they are in our lives.  Their spontaneity and innocence remind us the beauty of life and what is important…just being together with them and letting them love us. 

On page 1 of the LA Times I saw this picture, of a father embracing his 6 yr. old son, who stared vacantly over his shoulder. 

As I read, I sat up straighter and put down my coffee cup, and read … “Father and son reunite…  Jefferson…a playful boy who loved racing tiny cars across the dirt floor of his Guatemala home, stood stiff, staring vacantly at the gray carpet, then at his father…  The boy remained stiff and expressionless.  His arms, stomach and back were covered with a rash.  His right eye was bruised red.  He had a cough and a runny nose.  Jefferson had been held in a detention shelter … in New York.  He had spoken to his father 3 times in 46 days.  ‘Papa, I thought they killed you’ , he told his father. ”  My stomach twisted.

Then on page A3 of the Wall Street Journal, a photo of a migrant family with a little boy, the same age as Gino, with black curly hair stared out at me.  

I read… “Father and son were separated three months ago…the boy was sent to an agency in Michigan…  Mr. Reyes said his son isn’t the same.  He doesn’t speak much.  He wants to be close to his father and worries every time he steps away.  Inside, he carries like a sadness.”  Dr. Havens, a NY psychiatrist for children is quoted in testimony. “Most children are resilient.  But there is a subset who have a significant disorder associated with the trauma of separation.  (They) appear confused or don’t recognize a parent upon reunification. For parents to have to go through sort of reacclimatizing themselves to their children is just horrific.”

I closed the paper and just sat there.  Thoughts raced through my mind.  What have we come to?  No amount of legal discourse, no amount of citing legalities, nothing in my mind can justify adults taking such steps to enforce whatever laws and in the process damage innocent children who are victims of the decisions of others.  We are better than that.  

Memories of the little faces that turned to me in such open, naked trust last night fill my mind.  It is such a privilege to be entrusted with my grandchildren.  My hope is that the love, security and guidance I am allowed to share with them will contribute to their developing into confident, secure and fully alive little individuals.  Such an honor and such a responsibility.

I feel ashamed as I read the news.  I am ashamed.

Those who would lead our judicial systems, enforce our laws, often do so with a sense of religious righteousness.  Yet, I recall the Bible verse:  Whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in Me to stumble, it would be better for him to have a large millstone hung around his neck and to be thrown into the sea. 

Where can I get my hands on some millstones!

I Am A Work in Progress – Trying to Claim my Authenticity

There are numerous articles written on how to discover yourself.  They are mostly targeting adolescence and young adults trying to find their way in life.  Where do I find a manual for a woman who finds herself between 65 years and death, a woman who wants to be authentic?  

Each phase of life seems to be a time of discovery… a shedding of a skin that no longer fits and an evolution into a more fully developed being.  It goes beyond deciding to no longer color my graying hair.  It is a personal soul-searching, trying to claim the person I am discovering myself to be.  What do I do with this discovery?  How do I live it?  How do I continue to be embracing of all, respectful of others’ positions, honoring the differences while not having to hide what is in the depth of my being?

I was never really an activist.  I didn’t burn my bra.  I have not joined marches. I was not a “flower-child” in the 60’s.  I was a young mother trying to feed my children and sew my curtains.  I have struggled to discover my truth and it is hard, because I am able to see different points of view and I get confused.  Like Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof,  I say “on the one hand…” but “on the other hand…”  I am able see the rationale that is buried in the position of someone who may differ from me.  This  makes me feel wishy-washy.  I ask myself “Where do I really stand?  What do I really value?  What is my honest opinion?”

I find these days of political turmoil and division in society very painful. I read the newspapers, magazines and “tweets” and I am filled with reaction.   I am a social person and I value the friendships that I have formed over the years.  And while I may hear a dear friend voice an opinion with which I do not concur, I honor my friend’s right to hold that opinion.  Yet it does can place me in a difficult position.  Do I say nothing…just smile…accept what they say…and keep the peace?  Do I say something…honor my position…speak my truth, hopefully in a civil manner, and risk alienating my friend? 

I do not like discord; I avoid confrontation.  I recall being told that I was unrealistic…a dreamer.  I want everyone to get along and it can’t always be like that.

So my current journey is to first try to identify my real values.  What do I hold non-negotiable?  What will I hold on to no matter what, my true North?  I pretend I am in a rowboat and it is sinking.  In the boat with me are all the things I hold dear…and I ask myself, “What am I willing to throw out to keep the boat from sinking?” 

What I am left with in the boat are always the same things.  

First of all it is Life, that sense of being fully alive, filled with a spirit that makes me who I am. I have always known that there are those who “give me life,” energize me and make me feel more myself…my Life-givers.  And there are those who “deplete my life,” with whom I feel the life in me being sucked out, like a balloon being deflated.  I want to be a Life-giver not a Life-taker.  I want to be with Life-givers and avoid Life-takers.  It is Love, being connected in the heart to others, my family and friends.  It is Respect for myself and for others, acknowledging that no one is better than another.  It is Compassion knowing that everyone is just trying to do life and we are all trying to help each other home.  It is Integrity being able to trust the honesty in my words and actions, and those of others. It is Hope, that there is always possibility.   These are the values I hold dear and I think describe my soul.

The next step for me is to allow these values to guide me and shape my priorities.  If I believe that my presence on this planet has something to contribute to the greater good, than I have to be authentic and put it out there. It does not mean that others must agree.  While it might not be right for others, it is right for me.  

I am stumbling around these days trying to be true to myself, to share my truth.  In our present arena, when so much flies in the face of my own personal values I am not as brave as I wish I were.  I am reminded of the quote “All it takes for Evil to triumph is for good men (and women) to do nothing (remain silent.)” How do I contribute to the common discourse in conversations, writings, social media?  This is my dilemma and my challenge; to do so in a way that imparts Life, Love, Respect, Compassion, Integrity and Hope. 

Stay tuned….

I Am ALMOST A Silver Fox - Going Gray

How wonderful is the human psyche!!!  Thoughout my life, when I have thought of some potentially difficult, anticipated time in my future, I have wondered how I would be able to “deal with” it.  And yet, when the time came, something inside me had shifted and I discovered that I was ready for this new event.  I especially think of this now as I am in the later phases of my life and many of those future events have arrived and are my new present.

One of those future events was knowing when the time was right to “give up the bottle,” to stop my monthly appointment with Sebastian, to have him carefully apply color #12 to hide my roots and keep my crowning glory a lovely, luxurious brunette.  For the last couple of years the thought would fleetingly cross my mind, but I would say, “No, not yet!”  I would ask Jay for his opinion and he would say, “No, not yet!”  Were we both trying to hold back time?  I was hesitant because the image I hold of myself in my mind’s eye is of a vibrant, alive, 40 year old woman.  

I was not yet ready to be elderly.  I did not want to be seen as elderly and I did not want to be treated as elderly.  And, I guess Jay didn’t want to think he had an elderly wife!

But as time has passed, I am reminded each morning that the woman I see in the mirror is not 40 years old.  I have fine wrinkle lines on my cheeks that remind me of  my mother.  The skin is no longer tight and elastic, but is soft and “squishy” (to quote Gino). My complexion is varied and dotted with occasional age spots.  And the graying roots of my hair are outlining my face.  I am trying to get to know this woman.  

When I sit quietly with her and take a simple internal inventory, I discover that this woman is in a good place.  She is content with her life.  She is no longer running on a treadmill, trying to prove herself worthy, trying to please everyone, trying to control the world.  She is at peace and grateful for all the good in her life.  She worries much less.  She knows she is loved by those who are important to her and she is happy.  I can see this in her face when I look at her in the mirror.  She is ready to embrace her natural hair.  At least, she is ready to try.

So a month ago, I had Sebastian just cut and blow dry my hair.  He is not quite sure I am ready, but he is being supportive.  Jay says, “Go for it!”  My sons say since they currently have more gray hair showing than I do that it would balance the scales if their mom was also gray.  My daughters assure me that I am not loved for my hair but for my heart.  So I will see how it goes.  I don’t know what my natural hair will look like.  Who knows, maybe I will be a Silver Fox!

It has been one month since I began this “going gray journey!”  The passage has been interesting.  Each day, as I checked in the mirror, I saw a little more gray and instead of making me feel older, it made me feel energized…happy…authentic…as if I was “claiming” myself.  

I would catch Jay looking at me and ask, “Do you feel like you are sitting next to your mother?”  He would laugh and say, “No, in fact, I like it!”

Here are my before and after (first haircut) pictures:  By the next haircut, all the colored “highlights” should be gone.  

The only concern I am still holding on to is the reaction of Gino and Jessie, who have not seen it yet.  They notice every little thing.  Once after I washed my face (and was minus my “enhanced” eyebrows) Gino asked, “What happened to your face?  Why is it a new face?”  

What is my lesson in this?  I guess it is to trust in life.  To just show up for it and let it happen.  There are still some potentially difficult, anticipated times in my future.  I can try to prepare but I can also hold on to the knowledge that when the time comes, I will be able to handle it.

Stay tuned…

I Am A Seamstress - Rediscovering the Sewing Machine

I grew up in the 50’s, when a little girl spent time learning all the homemaker skills.  I could prepare a pork roast, I could crochet an edging on a handkerchief, I could sew drapes, I could plant vegetables and deadhead roses.  

When I was in the 5^th grade, my mother took me to a Cuyahoga Falls, to the Singer Sewing Machine store where I took sewing lessons and made my first dirndl skirt.  In 1960 I purchased my first Singer Sewing Machine and it served me well.  In addition to my own clothes, I also made outfits for my little boys every Easter, 

Easter 1970 - Michael and Joey in matching handmade sport coats!

curtains for every window in my house and Halloween costumes!  But the years passed and my Singer Sewing machine gathered dust in the storeroom.

Then, about 3 months ago, my brother, Fred, was trying to sell his mother-in-law's sewing machine, a Husqvarna Viking Freesia 425.  So even though I don’t sew anymore, I decided to donate my old Singer to the Salvation Army and buy this more modern machine.  I put the Husqvarna in the storeroom and forgot about it.

Enter my son Marc, in September...  "Mom, is it possible for you to make a Green Goblin costume for Gino for Halloween.  He wants to be the Green Goblin and we can't find a costume online or in the Halloween stores.  Here is a picture of what he should look like."  Of course, my answer as the mother who can do anything, is... “of course, let me work on it.”

A week and four trips to Joann's later, here is the plan.  Charlotte is getting a green long sleeve shirt and green leggings and the mask.  I am making the gloves, boot covers, the tunic and the hat.  

I set up the new Husquvarna in the office.  I find a 45 minute video on YouTube that introduces me, step by step, to my new machine.  Simple patterns for the items were easily found online.  And within about 4 days, to quote Gino, “I DID IT!”

Gino trying on his finished costume.

A week later, enter Marc..."Mom, the Green Goblin needs a messenger bag to wear across his body."  I suggested he use a small cross-body plain purse I have and Marc responded in no uncertain terms!  “NO.  That's a PURSE...he needs a plain messenger bag.”

Another trip to Joann's to buy heavy brown fleece and we have a messenger bag.  Mima fullfils her promise, Gino is happy, and Marc has nothing more to say.

 

Gino on Halloween - front view

Back View - note cross-body Messenger Bag!

But Mima is experiencing an itch.  That was kind of fun.  I wonder what else I could make?  The internet is full of ideas. What about Jessie?  I have never had a little girl to sew for.  I spend a few? hours on Pinterest.  Do you know how many free patterns for little girl's clothing are "out there?"  I download a few.

I make another trip to Joann's and I discover the remnant bin!  AND they are 50% off.  AND there is a lovely pattern of little snowmen and Christmas is coming.

The dress is darling...but it needs some matching bloomers.  And then what about a matching headband.

Another trip to Joann's and some elastic is purchased and the items are made.

 

Jessie's Pinafore Dress/Top can also be worn over a onsie and with leggings!

I save all my remnants neatly folded on my closet shelf.  It is growing and waiting for the next project. (Will this end up taking over my yarn stash?)

Returning to the craft of sewing reminds me of just how wonderful it is to enter the world of creativity.  Whether it is knitting a sweater, painting a picture, planting a garden, baking a cake, or even writing a blog post…when my hands pick up something that is seemingly ordinary and I begin to make something new with it, I enter a different world. I am in the flow.  

Psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi defines “flow” as a state of heightened focus and blissful immersion.  There is a focus that causes time to disappear.  I forget myself, my anxieties, my "shoulds" and "oughts" and I just FLOW as if I am a part of something larger. And when I exit “the FLOW” I am left with this wonderful clarity and sense of being refreshed!  It is a gift I give myself.

At the moment I feel a tremendous sense of gratitude to the women in my life who shared their skills with me.  First of all, to my mother as my role model, who let me cook alongside her, let me participate every Christmas when she painted a large holiday mural on our living-room window, and who sewed all my dancing costumes.  

Patricia about 8 years old - Tap Dancing Costume

Then to my Grandmother, Frances who taught me to crochet and to love to get my hands into the dirt of the garden.  To my friends, "The Achrems" - Janette and Resi, who taught me how to knit when I was a young woman expecting my first child.  All of these dear women shared their skills, their crafts, and their love with me.  And it is the gift that keeps on giving!  I look to Jessie Patricia and hope that in the future, I can pass along some of this along to her.

But right now, I have a slight problem... I am experiencing a little itch! I think I have fallen down a rabbit hole!  On to Pinterest!

I Am A Naturalist - Experiencing Nature at PVS

Most of my family and friends know that Jay and I live in Palos Verdes Shores, a community of residents, 55 years or older, who live in manufactured homes on the bluffs of the Palos Verdes Peninsula.  

Nestled between the town of San Pedro and the Trump Golf course, our little piece of paradise provides us with expansive views of the Pacific Ocean, Catalina Island, 

the Port of Los Angeles, tanker ships, fishing boats, and an occasional whale or dolphin. We enjoy daily ocean breezes, mornings with marine layers, 

hummingbirds visiting our deck feeders, monarch butterflies visiting our milkweed plants, 

the evening serenades of local coyotes and once in a while an uninvited raccoon trying to get into the trash bins.  

While we have the moving parking lot of the 405 freeway just a few miles away, it is easy to forget the hustle of the city and submerge ourselves into the natural world that surrounds us.  Separating us from the Trump Golf course is the Ocean Trails section of the Palos Verdes Nature Preserve, areas of the peninsula that are protected by the Land Conservancy from development and provides hiking trails while preserving the natural setting.  After our wonderful rains, the Preserve was lush and green and later, filled with golden flowers of the wild mustard plants.  

But like all living things (ourselves included!), these plants age, and dry, and wither away…creating a disaster like a brush fire just waiting to happen.

But the city of Palos Verdes is on the ball and as well as employing various persons to comb the hillsides with weed-whackers, each year they also bring in goats to eat the invasive plants.  The Conservancy says goat grazing is considered environmentally friendly and economically efficient.

So, today Jay and I decide to take a walk over to the trail head and looked down on the busy baa-ing goats.  On our way we passed this sign that reminded us that there are other living creatures that also share our surroundings!

Except for the goats and one other man ahead of us on the trail, we felt like we were alone in this magical place.  

To the left were the rooftops of our community homes, and before us was hillside filled with goats.  

Some were chomping away, some were fighting over who was going to stand on top of the big rocks, 

and some were just resting while they digested!  

Later we walked over to the tall trees adjacent to our golf course to check out the red-tailed hawk nest and see if we could get a glimpse of mama hawk and her one little “hawklet!” 

Jay and I look at each other and say…”We live in paradise! 

Being surrounded by the beauty and the peacefulness of nature is restorative.  It gives us a chance to remove ourselves from the "noise" and be reminded of the essence of life.  All we have to do is turn on the television or pick up the newspaper and we realize that we don’t recognize our world anymore.  The “new normal” is frightening to us.  We feel assaulted by dissent, anger, disrespect, chest-thumping.  We don’t know what to believe or who to trust. We don’t understand our modern world and the urge is strong to assume the fetal position, to withdraw and hide.  But what we find ourselves doing instead is reaching for those behaviors that are constant and remind us of who we are at our core.  

We are currently taking an Omnilore course that is studying the ancient philosophies of China and we are reminded of mindfulness and all the wonderful tools that help us practice warm-heartedness, presence and goodness and that contribute positively to our well-being and our surroundings.  Being aware of nature that surrounds us contributes to that little bit of serenity.  

As Confucius say..."Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated."  I think I'll go take a walk!