As 2010 draws to a close, I decided to check in on the blog and my emails that come through this address. It’s been a while since I posted. So much has been happening and so little at the same time. Our landscape business has been good and then not good. Winter is usually challenging but we are holding on. When I am trying to keep a positive attitude, I don’t write as much, well not the kinds of things I write here but as I checked in, I found some really good messages from a certain writer I know – me! I reminded myself what I need to do when things are getting a bit too challenging.
For instance, I am going through some grief again. At this point I do not know if my closest friend is still with us. The last time I talked to her brother, they were taking it one day at a time. She has been fighting the fight against both breast cancer and bone cancer. After several different round of treatments she had decided to stop. I was away in Santa Fe for a week with my son and his girlfriend. I had called and spoken with her son once and her brother another time. Then I just didn’t want to know if the news was not good. And another matter that I wanted to avoid was happening too.
Thirteen and a half years ago, the family went to Kansas. We had Autumn who had 4 kittens and her feral mother, Monique mostly living on our front porch. We had a friend who was coming by to feed the cats and dogs and check on them. They were happier staying at home. Besides, no one could touch Monique and she was only inside with Autumn to protect and help with her kittens. Monique was a strange little cat. It felt like she had been tame at some point but abused severely. She couldn’t meow and as long as we didn’t try to touch her, she seemed okay closed inside the porch.
Monique looked like a British Short Hair variety – black, average body, with short legs and pointed feet. The day after we left for our trip, Monique had 4 kittens herself but the person taking care of her had no idea. She had them well hidden under the porch and not being able to get close to her, he didn’t realize that her body shape had changed from a little round tummy to a flat tummy.
Monique had been having two litters of kittens a year under our house. The first litter never appeared. When she would finally appear after the second litter, she would only have one kitten. The last was Autumn. Autumn was feral at first but it turned out her daddy was a Maine Coon and they just aren’t wild. We eventually got Autumn to let us handle her and then she went into heat and had 4 orange male kittens. The sire of her kittens was there. He was wild too and was waiting to kill the male kittens. Monique seemed to have had it happen before and she stayed right there ready to fight him if he came too close. When we boxed up Autumn and the newly born kittens to move her inside, Monique got in the box too. And that is how we got her to move inside, not knowing that she was pregnant too.
Her four kittens all looked like Siamese cats. We had noticed when she was in season that she liked to wait for this big Tom that looked Siamese. We called him Big Daddy. He wasn’t full blood because he had a very square looking head – not a true Siamese. But his colors and her body shape made for 4 apple headed kittens with seal points. Only one was male and he had some longer hair. Sadly, the long hair attracted fleas terribly and under the porch was not a very good environment. He began to fail. She didn’t know how to help him and she stopped nursing him. The 3 females were getting weaker too. I tried to help him. He was a fighter but he just couldn’t make it. Then the second one went. She was a beautiful one with huge eyes and more of a lilac point. A lady came along and wanted to try to save the largest one. It wasn’t a good idea but I wasn’t having any luck. I took the last one to the vet. He said she had flea anemia but if I could keep her alive for 48 hours, she would make it.
I kept her in a tiny shoebox by my face in the bed. I combed off the fleas as much as possible. I used an eyedropper and fed her formula with Super Blue Green algae and an egg in it. I would take her out to Monique but the mother wouldn’t try to nurse her for a while. She and Autumn would wash and massage her down and I would take her back inside and give her a couple of drops every hour or two. After a few hours and staying up all night – I felt like I did when my children were keeping me up all night – her tongue began to get some color in it again. Once she made it through the crisis, her mom began to nurse her again.
We could assume that what had been happening with Monique each year was that as a wild cat she had to leave her kittens to find food. Either the tomcats or other predators, like under the house rats, were getting her kittens. She would immediately go into heat again having the second litter in June each year. The fleas under the house in the dirt from the wild critters were getting her second litter. She would manage to save one. The one we helped her save became Precious. Precious was my baby and she considered me her mother. I had decided if I could catch Monique, I would get her spayed and after recovery let her continue to live under my house as a feral – but spayed – cat. Precious was going to be 8 weeks old on Monday. The flea anemia had slowed her growth but she was eating solid food. On Friday morning I went out to the porch to greet the cats as I always did and found Monique had died. I didn’t know why. “Doug, Monique is dead!” A strange little cat that was very intelligent had come and given us Autumn and Precious (and Chang, our other cat) and then she was gone.
Precious was a very sweet cat. She was a little slow. We attributed it to the lack of oxygen to her brain when she was little. She had tiny short legs like her mother and a small head but she got fat even before she was spayed. After the operation, she got even fatter. She was shaped like a basketball with legs. For many years she was good friends with Scully, another cat who decided to come live with us. We didn’t get Scully and Precious spayed for a long time finding out that if you don’t let them breed, they can get very sick. So when we had to spay Scully in an emergency we decided that we should take care of Precious too. The vet came back and said that Precious had some tumors and she wanted to send some tissues of to be tested. That would be another $60. I said, “No, if Precious gets worse, I will put her down. I won’t put her through expensive cancer treatment that may or may not work. Precious seems to be fine for now and we will take it one day at a time.”
After their surgeries, Scully wouldn’t have anything to do with the other cats. She was content being alone. Precious always needed to be close to another animal. She was tolerated by Chang who lived separately in the back of the house and sometimes she would spend time with him. We had and have a white dove. Precious seemed to think that bird was hers. After a few years we began to let Chang go outside. Precious would want to go and would follow him around doing what he did. In 2008, Chang stopped eating and then stopped drinking water. The vets don’t really know what causes this ailment and can only treated it with cortisone shots, steroids. After a while they don’t work anymore and the cats just waste away. I call it the wasting disease. Chang died on Memorial Day. Precious then decided to attach to out current dog, Sukie. Precious did not know she was a cat, did not know she wasn’t human, and certainly did not know that there was a difference in cats and dogs. Sukie is a sweetheart. They became close friends.
A few weeks ago 13 year old and 5 months Precious seemed to have had a stroke. I had a dog that had a stroke at 16 years old. He had one in the morning and by night had the second and died in my arms. I expected Precious would have another within 24 hours but she didn’t. In fact, she seemed to recover. She gradually got to where she could walk again, even jump and get in a chair (though getting down she kind of fell on her face), and was walking and running normally. She was eating somewhat normally and drinking water. Getting in and out of the litter box was a little difficult. Soon she began to get litter clumped up on her feet. I figured out that she was urinating on her feet or down her legs.
We had planned our trip to Santa Fe for Christmas. Precious began to show the symptoms of the wasting disease. I knew the vets were expensive and could only offer a cortisone shot. But I couldn’t cancel the trip. We had our friend Buzz to stay at the house but when we left I was very concerned that Precious was not going to be here when we returned. On Monday, Dec 27, Buzz called. She seemed to have had another stroke and was not able to walk on Sunday. When he got up, our sweet little precious Precious had left us. I had to come home to her not being here ever again.
I believe she lives on but her physical presence is missed. Sukie keeps looking for her like she did when Chang died. The other cats are trying but they just aren’t my baby girl Precious. She was a cute cat and 100% unconditional love. So here I honor and praise what she gave us. I love you Precious. I am sorry I could not fix the problem. Please forgive me. Thank you for all the love and joy you gave us and for just being you. Rest in Peace my little one. We miss your presence though I know you are wondering around here wanting me to pick you up. It’s a new relationship and eventually you will find you must go someplace else. You will always be welcome here though if you want to drop in from time to time.
Showing posts with label story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label story. Show all posts
Friday, December 31, 2010
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Remembering Thanksgiving – Old AND NEW Traditions
I was home alone for Thanksgiving this year. I sat down at the piano, played the favorite hymns of Daddy, Mother, and Doug, and I cried. I remembered Thanksgiving always at Grandmother’s house and someone always had to go get Mrs. Idy. The women cooked all morning (and several days before) and then collapsed after the meal. The children had to lie down and got spankings if we weren’t quiet. When we finally got old enough to be outside unattended, we were allowed to get up and go out to play, weather permitting, after an hour of lying down.
The food sat out on the table mostly uncovered except the Jell-O salads and maybe the desserts. It’s a wonder we didn’t get food poisoning. Later we came back and picked around at the food. Sometimes we all had to sit down together for supper. After an unwritten length of time, we would pack up and go home – five miles away. It wasn’t like they had anything new to talk about. They saw each other several times a week.
There weren’t any toys so we grandkids had to make up games. I don’t remember any time that was particularly fun – mostly bickering that would evolve into fights. Then the adults would have to come separate us and give someone or all whippings.
Grandmother was diabetic in her later years. Dr. Waters knew she would “just a little taste” herself into too much and so he always upped her insulin for the holidays. There would be turkey with dressing, canned cranberry sauce and whole berry made from scratch, corn bread and biscuits, a ham and candied sweet potatoes and some orange pecan sweet potatoes. There would be some mostly iceberg lettuce with Thousand Island dressing. Sometimes there would be cold slaw, sauerkraut, and boiled cabbage. No, greens were not a popular fall thing in Oklahoma. There would be green beans, green bean casserole, and corn from the garden both on the cob and creamed corn. There was always a plate of home canned pickles, usually several varieties. There were usually some navy beans and baked beans (like we needed more gas) and certainly some sort of squash something. There may have been some noodle or rice casseroles. Biscuits and cornbread weren’t enough bread. They would add brown and server rolls and white bread. There were mashed potatoes, new potatoes, and canned peas. There sometimes was pea salad, carrot salad, and grape/cranberry salad. The Jell-O salads changed from year to year but someone always made orange Jell-O carrot salad that no one every ate or liked.
Then came the desserts. I remember Mother making an apple pecan cake every year. The banana nut cake got replace with a Scotch chocolate cake with pecan sugary icing. That was replaced with an Italian cocoanut pecan cream cake with cream cheese icing with pecans and cocoanut. Aunt Margie would make a cocoanut cake or chocolate cake or strawberry cake too. Mother wasn’t very good a piecrust but that didn’t stop her from making pies. When frozen crust became available at the stores that made it even easier. She made lemon meringue, chocolate, a really good cocoanut cream, banana cream, and one called Jefferson Davis chess pie. Sometimes she made pecan and pumpkin pies too. There were frequently chocolate chip and oatmeal cookies. Aunt Margie brought many of the same kinds. There was ice cream and whip cream (later cool whip).
One year Grandmother decided to make a pie. The sisters said she made them every year but had stopped when the diabetes came on. It was a butter chess pie – butter, eggs, and sugar. It was decadent – and really good. Mother and Daddy had to hand churn butter when they were growing up. They grew to hate the tasted and smell of butter immensely. They didn’t care for the taste of the butter pie so Grandmother never made it again. I was disappointed but it wasn’t like there wasn’t anything good to replace it.
All you can eat buffets have nothing on a Southern Oklahoma Thanksgiving dinner that shows influence of the tribal potlash ceremonies. There was this Italian Yankee at O.U. who tried to claim his Italian family gathering had an unbeatable spread, but he hadn’t been to one of my family’s holiday dinners. The “potlash” ceremony among farming tribes was a “being” by itself. They were such abundant holiday traditions.
So this year Doug was down in Florida with his family. Azure, Kyler, and Miko have moved away and so has Jeremy. I was going to be alone. Azure sent friends. The first came with a plate of food and the second brought a card and arrived while the first was still here. They left and a while later all of Jeremy’s siblings and girlfriends and cousins came bringing me some of Big Mamas Southern Soul Thanksgiving cooking. As they left another young man arrived. I gave him some pie and found out later that he had stayed home and not had any Thanksgiving dinner. I had a smoked breast and some cranberry sauce and the plate from Jeremy’s grandmother had enough for several meals that I could have shared had I known. I had a wonderful day. I didn’t have to cook but I still had a full dishwasher. I was pleasantly full and tired but so happy.
Thanksgiving memories and traditions – sometimes don’t change, but kids grow up, grandparents and parents pass away. The kids grow up and move away following their own life journey. Sometimes couples have to be apart. It’s sad when you spend Thanksgiving thinking about what was. It is more fun to make new traditions. I didn’t cook for days. I received some Thanksgiving dinner from other families without having too much leftover food along with dirty dishes, pots, and pans. I had a wonderful day. And next year? Well, we will see. It will be filled with some more New Traditions!
The food sat out on the table mostly uncovered except the Jell-O salads and maybe the desserts. It’s a wonder we didn’t get food poisoning. Later we came back and picked around at the food. Sometimes we all had to sit down together for supper. After an unwritten length of time, we would pack up and go home – five miles away. It wasn’t like they had anything new to talk about. They saw each other several times a week.
There weren’t any toys so we grandkids had to make up games. I don’t remember any time that was particularly fun – mostly bickering that would evolve into fights. Then the adults would have to come separate us and give someone or all whippings.
Grandmother was diabetic in her later years. Dr. Waters knew she would “just a little taste” herself into too much and so he always upped her insulin for the holidays. There would be turkey with dressing, canned cranberry sauce and whole berry made from scratch, corn bread and biscuits, a ham and candied sweet potatoes and some orange pecan sweet potatoes. There would be some mostly iceberg lettuce with Thousand Island dressing. Sometimes there would be cold slaw, sauerkraut, and boiled cabbage. No, greens were not a popular fall thing in Oklahoma. There would be green beans, green bean casserole, and corn from the garden both on the cob and creamed corn. There was always a plate of home canned pickles, usually several varieties. There were usually some navy beans and baked beans (like we needed more gas) and certainly some sort of squash something. There may have been some noodle or rice casseroles. Biscuits and cornbread weren’t enough bread. They would add brown and server rolls and white bread. There were mashed potatoes, new potatoes, and canned peas. There sometimes was pea salad, carrot salad, and grape/cranberry salad. The Jell-O salads changed from year to year but someone always made orange Jell-O carrot salad that no one every ate or liked.
Then came the desserts. I remember Mother making an apple pecan cake every year. The banana nut cake got replace with a Scotch chocolate cake with pecan sugary icing. That was replaced with an Italian cocoanut pecan cream cake with cream cheese icing with pecans and cocoanut. Aunt Margie would make a cocoanut cake or chocolate cake or strawberry cake too. Mother wasn’t very good a piecrust but that didn’t stop her from making pies. When frozen crust became available at the stores that made it even easier. She made lemon meringue, chocolate, a really good cocoanut cream, banana cream, and one called Jefferson Davis chess pie. Sometimes she made pecan and pumpkin pies too. There were frequently chocolate chip and oatmeal cookies. Aunt Margie brought many of the same kinds. There was ice cream and whip cream (later cool whip).
One year Grandmother decided to make a pie. The sisters said she made them every year but had stopped when the diabetes came on. It was a butter chess pie – butter, eggs, and sugar. It was decadent – and really good. Mother and Daddy had to hand churn butter when they were growing up. They grew to hate the tasted and smell of butter immensely. They didn’t care for the taste of the butter pie so Grandmother never made it again. I was disappointed but it wasn’t like there wasn’t anything good to replace it.
All you can eat buffets have nothing on a Southern Oklahoma Thanksgiving dinner that shows influence of the tribal potlash ceremonies. There was this Italian Yankee at O.U. who tried to claim his Italian family gathering had an unbeatable spread, but he hadn’t been to one of my family’s holiday dinners. The “potlash” ceremony among farming tribes was a “being” by itself. They were such abundant holiday traditions.
So this year Doug was down in Florida with his family. Azure, Kyler, and Miko have moved away and so has Jeremy. I was going to be alone. Azure sent friends. The first came with a plate of food and the second brought a card and arrived while the first was still here. They left and a while later all of Jeremy’s siblings and girlfriends and cousins came bringing me some of Big Mamas Southern Soul Thanksgiving cooking. As they left another young man arrived. I gave him some pie and found out later that he had stayed home and not had any Thanksgiving dinner. I had a smoked breast and some cranberry sauce and the plate from Jeremy’s grandmother had enough for several meals that I could have shared had I known. I had a wonderful day. I didn’t have to cook but I still had a full dishwasher. I was pleasantly full and tired but so happy.
Thanksgiving memories and traditions – sometimes don’t change, but kids grow up, grandparents and parents pass away. The kids grow up and move away following their own life journey. Sometimes couples have to be apart. It’s sad when you spend Thanksgiving thinking about what was. It is more fun to make new traditions. I didn’t cook for days. I received some Thanksgiving dinner from other families without having too much leftover food along with dirty dishes, pots, and pans. I had a wonderful day. And next year? Well, we will see. It will be filled with some more New Traditions!
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Why Do Some People Have to Have Someone to Hate?
by Katherine Ari, November 17, 2009
On the Internet news, Ian McClellan, the actor, admitted that he rips out pages in hotel Bibles about homosexuality. His actions are what they are. There are many things in the old testament of the Bible that are really offensive. If a woman is in her monthly menses and sits on a bench or pew in the temple or church, she is to be stoned and anyone who sits where she sat is unclean and also should be stoned. There is something in one of the Old Testament books about divorcing and one shoe – really silly if you are going to take the Bible literally. Then there is the scripture that says if you go into another community and they do not have the same god as Jehovah, you are to kill, stone, and castrate the people. Let’s see how far anyone gets taking that literally.
But it is the fundamental Christians, followers of the New Testament, that are screaming and condemning homosexuality the most. They will even say they don’t like the Old Testament because of the killing and castrating stuff and really don’t spend much time reading those stories. But they pick out this page and interpret as a justification to hate homosexuality.
I am not sure whether this one is old or new – "If thy right eye offends thee, pluck it out. If thy right hand offends thee, cut it off" – but how many people can take that one literally? Not many, because if they did, there would be a very large group of Christians and non-Christians with only one eye and one hand and they would be sent to mental hospitals for hurting themselves. And we can even leave lust and sex off of the offensive actions of eyes and hand. Just eating something that is harmful to your body or drinking alcohol that destroys brain cells are offensive acts.
Jesus says, “If someone comes to your door and you turn them away, you are turning him away. If you turn your back on the prisoner in jail, you turn you back on him (Jesus).” And I believe with my inner soul that if Jesus as I know Jesus were to walk into the jail to see those who have made mistakes and have fallen short of the glory of God, he would not scream at them and tell them they were going to Hell for their mistakes. He would not be ugly, angry, or unloving to them. He would not be going to jail to make a point of their mistakes. The Jesus I grew up loving would show love to them. Even the stories of him on the cross next to the others that were criminals tell us of his love for them and his forgiveness.
I am not sitting in judgment – after all Jesus also said, “Let you among us who is without sin (missing the mark) throw the first stone” because no one is without sin. Even if homosexuality is a “sin” (I don’t think so) it is just another sin and Jesus would NOT act the way the religious right acts. WHY do Christians always have to have a group to hate? WHY?
Why do homosexuals want to get married? They simply want to be treated the same and regarded the same as everyone else.
After World War II, the “hated group” was communist. Society feared and hated Germans, Japanese, and “Commies”. The Klu Klux Klan hated black people and Jews all in the name of Christianity. Then the USSR fell and the wall in Berlin came down. Civil Rights were supported by whites as well as African Americans and the KKK was revealed as what it was.
Then the religious right went after the “New Agers” – a work of the devil. If you went into a Christian bookstore, there was a whole shelf of condemning books about their definition of New Agers full of hate, anger, and misconstrued ideas by people that just looked for something to fault. New Age was just a marketing term and NEVER any one kind of people. Anything that some Christians thought was different or against their beliefs were New Age and the Devils work.
I remember so clearly another parent at the Christian school that my sons briefly attended saying that she wouldn’t ever vote for Bill Clinton because he wasn’t a Christian because he didn’t believe in the death penalty and did believe in abortions. I thought to myself that I know many Christians who do not believe in the death penalty and DO believe in the right to choose. But her definition of Christianity included this slant. So many things in the so-called New Age beliefs were considered as non-Christian by some and not so by others. But they preached and condemned and judged and call names and got ugly. Again Jesus would not act that way. He wouldn’t.
The phase of bracelets and signs and billboards of “What Would Jesus Do?” or WWJD was really a good idea. Unfortunately, people wearing those bracelets justified those judgmental attitudes and mean hateful behaviors. They believed Jesus would do that. I don’t!
The anti-New Agers furor died down as any metaphysical group distanced themselves from the term. The occult groups, the Pagan, or Wiccans, distanced from those terms too. The Christians hating – an oxymoron, don’t you think? – needed a new group to go after. (I just don’t understand why.) Homosexuals are tired of the bigotry and being treated like they are second-class citizens. They want to be allowed to marry and have all the rights of other couples. But the vocal ones that find a passage in the Bible to justify their unkind attitudes and beliefs speak out against them, condemning their lifestyle, acting like someone made them God. But I am not God. And I don’t have the right to judge either. If the Jesus I believed I knew as a girl growing up in the Baptist church, (though Baptist is not my spiritual home today) were standing with me right now, with my gay friends, and my straight friends, we would all feel Love, complete Love, unconditional Love, infinite Love. May each of us think every thought, take every actions, and do anything we do with anyone we come in contact with as if Jesus or God, however we interpret the Divine Presence, is standing with us with every breath we take. For I know we all my heart and soul that Peace would be on earth if everyone lived their lives with this practice in their life.
Take a moment now and imagine that your interpretation of God or the sons or daughters of God are in front of you with open arms and looking you in the eye. Don’t you feel it – Love - too? What Would He/She do if you turned toward another and then gave them hate and condemnation? Personally, I think if you turned back to look in the eyes of the Divine presence you would see tears.
On the Internet news, Ian McClellan, the actor, admitted that he rips out pages in hotel Bibles about homosexuality. His actions are what they are. There are many things in the old testament of the Bible that are really offensive. If a woman is in her monthly menses and sits on a bench or pew in the temple or church, she is to be stoned and anyone who sits where she sat is unclean and also should be stoned. There is something in one of the Old Testament books about divorcing and one shoe – really silly if you are going to take the Bible literally. Then there is the scripture that says if you go into another community and they do not have the same god as Jehovah, you are to kill, stone, and castrate the people. Let’s see how far anyone gets taking that literally.
But it is the fundamental Christians, followers of the New Testament, that are screaming and condemning homosexuality the most. They will even say they don’t like the Old Testament because of the killing and castrating stuff and really don’t spend much time reading those stories. But they pick out this page and interpret as a justification to hate homosexuality.
I am not sure whether this one is old or new – "If thy right eye offends thee, pluck it out. If thy right hand offends thee, cut it off" – but how many people can take that one literally? Not many, because if they did, there would be a very large group of Christians and non-Christians with only one eye and one hand and they would be sent to mental hospitals for hurting themselves. And we can even leave lust and sex off of the offensive actions of eyes and hand. Just eating something that is harmful to your body or drinking alcohol that destroys brain cells are offensive acts.
Jesus says, “If someone comes to your door and you turn them away, you are turning him away. If you turn your back on the prisoner in jail, you turn you back on him (Jesus).” And I believe with my inner soul that if Jesus as I know Jesus were to walk into the jail to see those who have made mistakes and have fallen short of the glory of God, he would not scream at them and tell them they were going to Hell for their mistakes. He would not be ugly, angry, or unloving to them. He would not be going to jail to make a point of their mistakes. The Jesus I grew up loving would show love to them. Even the stories of him on the cross next to the others that were criminals tell us of his love for them and his forgiveness.
I am not sitting in judgment – after all Jesus also said, “Let you among us who is without sin (missing the mark) throw the first stone” because no one is without sin. Even if homosexuality is a “sin” (I don’t think so) it is just another sin and Jesus would NOT act the way the religious right acts. WHY do Christians always have to have a group to hate? WHY?
Why do homosexuals want to get married? They simply want to be treated the same and regarded the same as everyone else.
After World War II, the “hated group” was communist. Society feared and hated Germans, Japanese, and “Commies”. The Klu Klux Klan hated black people and Jews all in the name of Christianity. Then the USSR fell and the wall in Berlin came down. Civil Rights were supported by whites as well as African Americans and the KKK was revealed as what it was.
Then the religious right went after the “New Agers” – a work of the devil. If you went into a Christian bookstore, there was a whole shelf of condemning books about their definition of New Agers full of hate, anger, and misconstrued ideas by people that just looked for something to fault. New Age was just a marketing term and NEVER any one kind of people. Anything that some Christians thought was different or against their beliefs were New Age and the Devils work.
I remember so clearly another parent at the Christian school that my sons briefly attended saying that she wouldn’t ever vote for Bill Clinton because he wasn’t a Christian because he didn’t believe in the death penalty and did believe in abortions. I thought to myself that I know many Christians who do not believe in the death penalty and DO believe in the right to choose. But her definition of Christianity included this slant. So many things in the so-called New Age beliefs were considered as non-Christian by some and not so by others. But they preached and condemned and judged and call names and got ugly. Again Jesus would not act that way. He wouldn’t.
The phase of bracelets and signs and billboards of “What Would Jesus Do?” or WWJD was really a good idea. Unfortunately, people wearing those bracelets justified those judgmental attitudes and mean hateful behaviors. They believed Jesus would do that. I don’t!
The anti-New Agers furor died down as any metaphysical group distanced themselves from the term. The occult groups, the Pagan, or Wiccans, distanced from those terms too. The Christians hating – an oxymoron, don’t you think? – needed a new group to go after. (I just don’t understand why.) Homosexuals are tired of the bigotry and being treated like they are second-class citizens. They want to be allowed to marry and have all the rights of other couples. But the vocal ones that find a passage in the Bible to justify their unkind attitudes and beliefs speak out against them, condemning their lifestyle, acting like someone made them God. But I am not God. And I don’t have the right to judge either. If the Jesus I believed I knew as a girl growing up in the Baptist church, (though Baptist is not my spiritual home today) were standing with me right now, with my gay friends, and my straight friends, we would all feel Love, complete Love, unconditional Love, infinite Love. May each of us think every thought, take every actions, and do anything we do with anyone we come in contact with as if Jesus or God, however we interpret the Divine Presence, is standing with us with every breath we take. For I know we all my heart and soul that Peace would be on earth if everyone lived their lives with this practice in their life.
Take a moment now and imagine that your interpretation of God or the sons or daughters of God are in front of you with open arms and looking you in the eye. Don’t you feel it – Love - too? What Would He/She do if you turned toward another and then gave them hate and condemnation? Personally, I think if you turned back to look in the eyes of the Divine presence you would see tears.
What’s In A Name?
November 17, 2009
by Katherine Ari
I was named Mary Katherine when I was born. Most of my life I have been called Kathy. I always preferred Mary to be pronounced Marie. A few years ago while doing a regression therapy, I came to recognize that not Marie but Ari was the name I was drawn too. What Ari means is another story.
Over the years I have read about the meanings of names. Certainly numerology is about your NAME more than your birthday like Astrology. I could see myself as Katherine, a renaissance person like the queen. I am a person of many talents and always independent. But the name Mary is the universal mother, the mother of God or Jesus, always the mother. I did not want to be Mary. I resisted the image of “Mother Earth” though often others tried to say that was how they saw me. “No, no, no! I don’t want to be that.” I would answer.
I didn’t marry until I was 29. For most of my twenties I didn’t have any desire to marry much less become a mother. My astrology teacher in my masters degree program taught us to do charts and in my fourth house I either would not have children or have no trouble with children. That was ironic in itself because by then I was married and pregnant with my first child. The spiritual action of marriage had also brought about the biological urge to have children – though even to this day I am not really a baby person. I went on to have three children and we have an unofficially adopted son making it four. I would have had another but Doug said no.
We had our children and made a life in an old house in Douglasville, GA. The house was surrounded by numerous kinds of oak trees, elms, sweet gums, pines, apples, cedars, a redbud and a dogwood, a mimosa, and we tried peaches. I have always loved trees. I spent my childhood having trees as my only friends along with my cat living in the country without any other children for neighbors. I felt a bond and communication with them even when I didn’t understand I was communicating with them and they with me. I do not deny that I have hugged many a tree, cried under many a tree and let them help me with my pain, danced with them, and heard them cry when they were damaged or cut down.
Years ago when the children were young, we were doing some work with a Native American teacher. He taught me that each area of the forest or even our yard has a head tree. There are grandmother and grandfather trees. He challenged me to go around in my yard and determine which was the head tree. The head tree is not necessarily the oldest or the biggest but I would discover that there are different kinds of leaders among the trees. Each tree in a yard has a function that forms a little sub-ecosystem. On my own I learned how to tell the feminine vs. the masculine trees.
I know you are asking, “What does this part of the story have to do with names?” Keep reading.
On one side of my house in the driveway is a water oak, a 110-year-old Grandfather Oak. At that time, there was a red oak, a 200 year old Great Grandmother Oak on the other side of the house, the west side. In the middle of the back yard was another Grandmother oak. The two oaks on each side of my house were guardians of the house and I felt that the red oak was the head tree. I went to the other grandmother oak in the yard and I looked at her. I said you just want to be the tree that provides shade and love. You don’t want to be the “mother” of the yard, the grand - mother. And I felt she agreed with me.
One morning in 1991, I went outside with my little Maltese dog. The sky was very unusual. There was a storm coming in from Birmingham but the sun had just come up from the east. The colors were vivid, strange. Spring flowers were coming up in an area that was garbage when we moved to the house in 1984. Everything looked so pretty. I spoke to the Great Grandmother, the mother tree of the yard where all the baby birds and squirrels lived. “Grand-mother, you are so wonderful and beautiful this morning. I love you so much. I hope you will be with us for another hundred years!”
As clear as if someone were standing right in front of me I heard a voice say, “I’m leaving soon.” A rush of fear passed over me. “Where did that voice come from?” I looked at her and I knew, KNEW it came from the tree. “Oh no, I hope not. We want you around for a long time. We love you so much and you are so important to us!”
“Soon, Granddaughter, very soon.” This internal voice coming to me was so real and sad. I felt tears well up in my eyes but then I went on about walking the dog and returning inside the house.
I went back toward the bedroom to get dressed. It was about 8:30 a.m. and Doug came running through the house. “This storm looks really bad. We should move to the hallway – quickly!” We got the kids up, grabbed the inside dog. The wind was loud and strong. Two tornados were passing over our house and we heard a large boom. The house shook and then we heard rain running into the house. The shaking was over and all we heard was loud rain. We got up to look where the rain was coming in. “Oh my God, the red oak was not there. She had gone down. But when she fell, she went north and wrapped around the back of the house. Twelve other trees went down on our property, all going towards the east, the direction of the tornado. But if she had done that, she would have fallen directly on the house, destroying the house and killing all of us.
“She told me, Doug. She said she was leaving soon,” I told Doug as I cried. Wow, she told me. I heard her. She told me! I felt like I had lost someone dear.
I felt she was the leader of my yard and she was gone. There was a young oak that I thought would be the new leader of that side of the yard some day, but when she fell, he held her until the tree people could get her safely to the ground without hitting the house. He was damaged beyond repair and a few years later fell to another storm.
I was well settled into parenthood and home schooling my children. I loved being their parent and had even gotten to the point of liking other children. I was walking around the yard and I felt that the Grandmother Oak in the middle of the yard had changed. She was clearly the new feminine head tree in the yard. Feeling sure of myself and like I “knew” the truth I said, “Well, Grandmother, I see you have assumed the role of the mother of the yard now since the Great Grandmother is gone.”
With a gentle bit firm voice she spoke to me. “It was not me that was not ready to be the mother, granddaughter. I am now what I was then.” And as if she and I were saying it in unison, the next thought to come through my mind was, “It was me that was not ready to be the mother, the earth mother. And now I am ready. I am ready to embrace being Mary, the eternal mother. I WAS Mary. I am Mary – (but I am even more Ari). But that IS another story and the name means something different.
What does your name mean? Do you embrace it and live the full potential?
by Katherine Ari
I was named Mary Katherine when I was born. Most of my life I have been called Kathy. I always preferred Mary to be pronounced Marie. A few years ago while doing a regression therapy, I came to recognize that not Marie but Ari was the name I was drawn too. What Ari means is another story.
Over the years I have read about the meanings of names. Certainly numerology is about your NAME more than your birthday like Astrology. I could see myself as Katherine, a renaissance person like the queen. I am a person of many talents and always independent. But the name Mary is the universal mother, the mother of God or Jesus, always the mother. I did not want to be Mary. I resisted the image of “Mother Earth” though often others tried to say that was how they saw me. “No, no, no! I don’t want to be that.” I would answer.
I didn’t marry until I was 29. For most of my twenties I didn’t have any desire to marry much less become a mother. My astrology teacher in my masters degree program taught us to do charts and in my fourth house I either would not have children or have no trouble with children. That was ironic in itself because by then I was married and pregnant with my first child. The spiritual action of marriage had also brought about the biological urge to have children – though even to this day I am not really a baby person. I went on to have three children and we have an unofficially adopted son making it four. I would have had another but Doug said no.
We had our children and made a life in an old house in Douglasville, GA. The house was surrounded by numerous kinds of oak trees, elms, sweet gums, pines, apples, cedars, a redbud and a dogwood, a mimosa, and we tried peaches. I have always loved trees. I spent my childhood having trees as my only friends along with my cat living in the country without any other children for neighbors. I felt a bond and communication with them even when I didn’t understand I was communicating with them and they with me. I do not deny that I have hugged many a tree, cried under many a tree and let them help me with my pain, danced with them, and heard them cry when they were damaged or cut down.
Years ago when the children were young, we were doing some work with a Native American teacher. He taught me that each area of the forest or even our yard has a head tree. There are grandmother and grandfather trees. He challenged me to go around in my yard and determine which was the head tree. The head tree is not necessarily the oldest or the biggest but I would discover that there are different kinds of leaders among the trees. Each tree in a yard has a function that forms a little sub-ecosystem. On my own I learned how to tell the feminine vs. the masculine trees.
I know you are asking, “What does this part of the story have to do with names?” Keep reading.
On one side of my house in the driveway is a water oak, a 110-year-old Grandfather Oak. At that time, there was a red oak, a 200 year old Great Grandmother Oak on the other side of the house, the west side. In the middle of the back yard was another Grandmother oak. The two oaks on each side of my house were guardians of the house and I felt that the red oak was the head tree. I went to the other grandmother oak in the yard and I looked at her. I said you just want to be the tree that provides shade and love. You don’t want to be the “mother” of the yard, the grand - mother. And I felt she agreed with me.
One morning in 1991, I went outside with my little Maltese dog. The sky was very unusual. There was a storm coming in from Birmingham but the sun had just come up from the east. The colors were vivid, strange. Spring flowers were coming up in an area that was garbage when we moved to the house in 1984. Everything looked so pretty. I spoke to the Great Grandmother, the mother tree of the yard where all the baby birds and squirrels lived. “Grand-mother, you are so wonderful and beautiful this morning. I love you so much. I hope you will be with us for another hundred years!”
As clear as if someone were standing right in front of me I heard a voice say, “I’m leaving soon.” A rush of fear passed over me. “Where did that voice come from?” I looked at her and I knew, KNEW it came from the tree. “Oh no, I hope not. We want you around for a long time. We love you so much and you are so important to us!”
“Soon, Granddaughter, very soon.” This internal voice coming to me was so real and sad. I felt tears well up in my eyes but then I went on about walking the dog and returning inside the house.
I went back toward the bedroom to get dressed. It was about 8:30 a.m. and Doug came running through the house. “This storm looks really bad. We should move to the hallway – quickly!” We got the kids up, grabbed the inside dog. The wind was loud and strong. Two tornados were passing over our house and we heard a large boom. The house shook and then we heard rain running into the house. The shaking was over and all we heard was loud rain. We got up to look where the rain was coming in. “Oh my God, the red oak was not there. She had gone down. But when she fell, she went north and wrapped around the back of the house. Twelve other trees went down on our property, all going towards the east, the direction of the tornado. But if she had done that, she would have fallen directly on the house, destroying the house and killing all of us.
“She told me, Doug. She said she was leaving soon,” I told Doug as I cried. Wow, she told me. I heard her. She told me! I felt like I had lost someone dear.
I felt she was the leader of my yard and she was gone. There was a young oak that I thought would be the new leader of that side of the yard some day, but when she fell, he held her until the tree people could get her safely to the ground without hitting the house. He was damaged beyond repair and a few years later fell to another storm.
I was well settled into parenthood and home schooling my children. I loved being their parent and had even gotten to the point of liking other children. I was walking around the yard and I felt that the Grandmother Oak in the middle of the yard had changed. She was clearly the new feminine head tree in the yard. Feeling sure of myself and like I “knew” the truth I said, “Well, Grandmother, I see you have assumed the role of the mother of the yard now since the Great Grandmother is gone.”
With a gentle bit firm voice she spoke to me. “It was not me that was not ready to be the mother, granddaughter. I am now what I was then.” And as if she and I were saying it in unison, the next thought to come through my mind was, “It was me that was not ready to be the mother, the earth mother. And now I am ready. I am ready to embrace being Mary, the eternal mother. I WAS Mary. I am Mary – (but I am even more Ari). But that IS another story and the name means something different.
What does your name mean? Do you embrace it and live the full potential?
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
RANDOM THOUGHTS AND LESSONS FOR TODAY by Katherine Ari
RANDOM THOUGHTS AND LESSONS FOR TODAY
Today is Wednesday, October 28, 2009 and I have not blogged since Oct. 15. The reason is Life got in the way – We had some pond improvement work. It was a challenging job and the customer seemed to be expecting us to rip him off or not do what we promised. By the time we finished, Doug and I had worked for little more than minimum wage. Something we usually find to be rewarding work became tiresome and dreaded. But it is my policy to look for the good in everything and for what was learned.
I learned that no matter how much someone likes to go on verbal word that you need to have things in writing and with lots of details. No matter how much you need some work and income, make sure there is a written lists of exactly what is expected. Inform customers of your company policies and maybe why you have them. Every time we have cut corners to please the client, we have regretted it. People get confused. They think they have said everything that is on their mind but that is not always the case. If you have it in writing, then they can look over the list and add on BEFORE you begin. If they want more, write it all down and just what is involved in their requests.
There is no doubt that as we “mature” our brains get filled up. I won’t say Senior Moments but that we just have minds full of lots of facts and figures. Sometimes things get pushed to the back of the pile. The next thing you know you are doing a lot of things that are not included in the bid. We don’t like to add on to estimates and I usually estimate a little high to account for unexpected issues. When you work with nature, it is really hard to predict just how long it will take to do something. People who are used to working with manmade materials and supplies don’t always understand that part of a job.
It all made us realize that we need a better idea about how to produce income. I want to work one on one with people seeking to improve their lives. I love people and seeing them unfold in their own empowerment. I have a wonderful office in our garden and no matter how much Doug complains about all the work, he really enjoys using his restlessness or hyperactivity to work on our garden. It is NOT about getting money but working doing the things I love most.
I also love writing – not just these blogs but writing my stories. I love painting. While we were finishing the pond job, the local Cultural Arts Center representative called to ask the Dannels family to produce an art show sometime next year, maybe April. Kyler, my son, and Doug, my husband, were in their National Juried Show last year and Kyler won the trustee award. My other children and my mother-in-law are also artists. We will put our best work together to show in the spring. Kyler also encourages his dad to put together his sculpture in bodies of work to present to galleries in Santa Fe. It is time for Doug Dannels to do what he really loves most – claim his incredible art and let the world see it.
I know we did a good job this week. I know that we did more than what we were paid for and that is okay. The customer seemed to be expecting to get ripped off and didn’t trust us but we did everything we thought he wanted with limited materials. It’s all good!
Today is Wednesday, October 28, 2009 and I have not blogged since Oct. 15. The reason is Life got in the way – We had some pond improvement work. It was a challenging job and the customer seemed to be expecting us to rip him off or not do what we promised. By the time we finished, Doug and I had worked for little more than minimum wage. Something we usually find to be rewarding work became tiresome and dreaded. But it is my policy to look for the good in everything and for what was learned.
I learned that no matter how much someone likes to go on verbal word that you need to have things in writing and with lots of details. No matter how much you need some work and income, make sure there is a written lists of exactly what is expected. Inform customers of your company policies and maybe why you have them. Every time we have cut corners to please the client, we have regretted it. People get confused. They think they have said everything that is on their mind but that is not always the case. If you have it in writing, then they can look over the list and add on BEFORE you begin. If they want more, write it all down and just what is involved in their requests.
There is no doubt that as we “mature” our brains get filled up. I won’t say Senior Moments but that we just have minds full of lots of facts and figures. Sometimes things get pushed to the back of the pile. The next thing you know you are doing a lot of things that are not included in the bid. We don’t like to add on to estimates and I usually estimate a little high to account for unexpected issues. When you work with nature, it is really hard to predict just how long it will take to do something. People who are used to working with manmade materials and supplies don’t always understand that part of a job.
It all made us realize that we need a better idea about how to produce income. I want to work one on one with people seeking to improve their lives. I love people and seeing them unfold in their own empowerment. I have a wonderful office in our garden and no matter how much Doug complains about all the work, he really enjoys using his restlessness or hyperactivity to work on our garden. It is NOT about getting money but working doing the things I love most.
I also love writing – not just these blogs but writing my stories. I love painting. While we were finishing the pond job, the local Cultural Arts Center representative called to ask the Dannels family to produce an art show sometime next year, maybe April. Kyler, my son, and Doug, my husband, were in their National Juried Show last year and Kyler won the trustee award. My other children and my mother-in-law are also artists. We will put our best work together to show in the spring. Kyler also encourages his dad to put together his sculpture in bodies of work to present to galleries in Santa Fe. It is time for Doug Dannels to do what he really loves most – claim his incredible art and let the world see it.
I know we did a good job this week. I know that we did more than what we were paid for and that is okay. The customer seemed to be expecting to get ripped off and didn’t trust us but we did everything we thought he wanted with limited materials. It’s all good!
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Wrinkles are Magnificent
Wrinkles Are Magnificent by Katherine Ari, September 30, 2009
It’s still so unbelievable Michael Jackson died even though I feel I understand why. He hated aging – I hear that – but when you don’t get to the point of accepting where you are now and loving where you are, you just don’t live. The media does more to foster eating disorders and premature deaths than people realize. Aging gracefully – rather than beautifully – is the catch phrase. Wrinkles, age spots, gray hair or no hair, and weight redistribution are considered unattractive. Certainly, they are rather annoying. But an old tree or a huge old rock are magnificent because they have endured. The bigger the tree the older it is. It is honored. Why then can’t humans be honored for their ability to endure as they age rather than shunned and put down. Our priorities are mixed up. And as we age, we get caught up in the imbalance as well. We get discouraged and frustrated that our bodies, our faces, and abilities are not what they were when we were young. No one else seems to believe we have more now than in the past.
The old oak is stronger and gives more to the environment. We do too. We are the “rocks” of society. We have stories to tell. Our age characteristics are like the layers of bark on a tree or sediment on a rock. The whole of who we are and what we know lies inside. A tree or a big ancient rock has much to tell us if we listen. So too do the elder humans. But the trees stand in their place, quietly storing more layers, more stories, more history, more wisdom. If someone comes along and asks them, they will share – if the seeker listens with their heart. And we humans will share also. We know things. As my husband Doug Dannels said in a video about his sculptures of old people’s faces, “The wrinkles are marks of our experiences.” They are good things. They are beautiful.
If I were standing near MJ when he said aging sign were ugly, I would have taken him outside to my own garden. “Look at this oak tree and look at this small pecan seedling. Which is more beautiful, more magnificent, more important for the earth?” Would anyone choose the seedling? No, I think not. Everything in nature is connected. Everything has a season and increases in importance as age increases. Humans should become more valuable as they age – not less valuable.
I suppose a stag deer that lives beyond the normal age in the wild might be tough to eat. An observant hunter would see its maturity. He might still pull the trigger for the prize of the beauty of its antlers but not because the meat is desirable. But do we want to be eaten and mounted on someone’s wall as a trophy? If the buck has dropped his antlers and the hunter recognizes his age, he won’t shoot him even if it is still in hunting season – but most of the time when antlers have dropped it is NOT hunting season.
On the PBS series about the history of the National Parks, people came in and started cutting down the ancient Sequoias. Through the efforts of John Muir and others, they are protected. Signs of age in a tree, a giant rock, or a human are notices in big letters – Behold, mature age. Stop. Listen. They have so much to give and are beautiful. They are wise and contribute so much to the strength, stability, and health of the earth. Honor them. Respect them. Marvel at what they have endured and accomplished and be proud they have blessed you with their magnificent presence in your life!
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Story - I sit under my trees and Attract others to Me
Many years ago, over ten in fact, I had a meeting with an elder named Grandfather Jerome. He would go into his kind of meditation or trance burning the sacred herbs and then tell his visitor what his inner voice told him to say about the person. Grandfather said, "I never do anything to get people to come to me. I just sit under a tree and they come." That was the message.
I have said to many that I have the tree and I am sitting under it. When are THEY going to come?
When am I going to get followers and supporters of the blog? When am I going to see people in my garden office where I can share my love, energy, talents, knowledge, and experiences to help people realize what is inside of them and how to manifest it in their lives?
A couple of weeks ago I did the Aura Feel Good Day at Inner Space in Atlanta. I was pleased and saw several people. The day is set up for the Healers to see people for 15 or 20 minutes and in that short time I found the most effective way to show them my work was to use Soul Cards by Deborah Koff-Chapin. Soul Cards do not have any set story or meaning. The picture drawn has YOUR story and interpretation. I felt really good about using them. The short time was enough but longer time is even better.
I came home and after resting from the big day, I did my own cards - a past, the present and the future. My present had me sitting petting a small lizard like dragon. The future card had me releasing a person like dragon through my words - releasing the fire dragon of creation from me and for anyone who comes to me. I am ready for the future card. I have petted the dragon within my "cave" long enough. It IS ready to be released into fruition.
This morning I asked What Do I do Next and again pulled out the cards? How do I bring people to me and make income? I asked for two cards. One card pulled me to pick it first. I turned it over and there she - I was sitting under that tree with a Higher self face coming from my hand reaching out to many hands in the tree (of Life?). It is amazing - there is the same image of me sitting under the tree helping others.
But one of the things I realized as I pondered this message is that I have always turned to the oaks in my garden but have somewhat ignored the other trees and shrubs. Outside my office door is a Grandfather Elm, several sweet gums, a pine, a red bud at the foot of the elm, cherries, azalias, honeysuckle, Nandina or heavenly bamboo, maples, and a palm tree.
I take the messages from ALL the trees. I sit under them especially the elm with my hands open and the next card is a beautiful woman - light being or angel - giving out wonderful, loving, healing energy, a picture of who I want to be and who I am. I love what I can do and I want to share it with others.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
What's not in Parenting Books
Parenting – What’s not in the Parenting Manuals July 21, 2009
The subject today is parenting and the subjects missing from the parenting books. I have long expressed the plan to write a parenting book with the prospective of metaphysical or new thought philosophies. Most parenting books are either written by psychologist or behavior specialist (frequently who have not been parents) or are written by someone whose agenda is their own religious dogma filled with morality and rules based on Judeo-Christian beliefs.
There are” shoulds” and “should nots” and theories based on statistics and averages in books. The personal core ideas of the writers are injected into the book as if those ideas are the gospel, set in stone, or hard clinical facts. I think that is BS. But then my own beliefs are going to show through in any parenting books I write. So what I want to present are some new ideas or different ways to look at things, or think about differently.
It isn’t that I haven’t been writing this book. It is in progress and my research continues. I noticed the other day there are some subject that are not in any traditional parenting books. The books don’t tell a superstar celebrity parent how to give their children normal childhoods (whatever that is) or why they need to. They don’t explain to the rest of the world how hard it is to be in the spotlight 24/7 and then have “down” time. And if the star is the kind that gives 1000 plus into their work, what they will be like as they crash. It doesn’t mean they are bad parents, just don’t know how to be a star parent.
The books don’t have any answer for a superstar that wants kids who has the money to get them in whatever way he wants (surrogate mothers or foreign adoptions) and then the superstar dies leaving the children without a parent. Or they are a couple and adopt and then the adopted orphan has their world upset and destroyed once again when the two parents divorce.
Yes, Michael Jackson has biological family but the tabloids continue to bring it up. Are they really his biological children? The damage these papers are doing to his three children in order to sell papers is hard to determine. And there is no standard to measure any of this by, nor any way to shut them the _____ up. Johnny Depp has his own island and keeps his children totally away from the media. But he is an incredibly talented actor and children tend to inherit some of the parents’ talents. Are they going to be sheltered away from acting when it is possible that they have similar talents? The books don’t tell any parent how to keep their child actors stable and able to cope with the fame. How many child actors grow up and have drug problems and have to go into some sort of rehab? The psychologist can’t claim they know what is “normal” for celebrities unless they are celebrities themselves – but that still doesn’t mean they know what is best in each situation.
And how does Cher deal with birthing a daughter that wants to be a man now? If you are a parent, how would you deal with that kind of change? I am not passing judgment on Chastity’s life path decision. I am just thinking about my children (four of them) and how it would be to be standing in the same room looking at them as the opposite sex from what they were when I birthed them. It does something to your mind. It’s very hard to grasp. And I am a very non-judgmental tolerant and loving mother.
Here is another subject missing from the parenting books, TV and the movies. The mother-in-law story has been shown a million different ways – all negative. She is possessive and won’t let her child leave and get married. She interferes and tries to run their lives. She goes to her child and new spouse’s house and rearranges things and injects her ideas of what is right on her children. And the new daughter or son-in-law resent it. There is never a really good relationship portrayed. What about the mother who is tolerant, not controlling, loving, and accepting?
I can’t say honestly that every boy or girl that has dated one of my children have been easy for me to befriend. I hope I did not come across as stuck up though if they were not right for my kids, I knew it. In my mind, I just kept my distance and knowing that they weren’t going to be responsive to me did not try to talk to them.
The really hard situation as a parent is when your child’s friends or romantic interest are really likable and you enjoy their presence in YOUR life. Then they break up and this person in your heart, is no longer there. The son divorces his wife. The former wife is still friendly to the mother-in-law who is in turn friendly to the former daughter-in-law and mother of her grandchildren – EXCEPT when the son comes around with a new girlfriend. This grandmother doesn’t know how to act around the former daughter-in-law. If she is friendly, will it make her son mad and the new woman jealous? If the split was unfriendly and he is bitter toward the old wife, does his mom have to take sides? If she doesn’t, that could make the son mad at her and feel she doesn’t love him. It becomes an uncomfortable situation and there aren’t any guidelines or in the media.
But the mother-in-law loves that woman who birthed her grandchildren. She isn’t mad at the former wife of her son. Yes, there are some women who can separate their feelings even if the wife DID do something like have an affair. There are those of us that don’t judge or maybe understand why the daughter-in-law might stray – just don’t project our own interpretations of what happened. It’s is not any of our business.
I have found myself in this position several times now. I opened my arms, my home, and my love to these children temporarily around. And when they broke up, it really hurt. It isn’t just about their romantic interest either. When one of my children has left home, I don’t get to see their friends anymore. I miss them. But it’s the break ups of the long-term relationships that hurt the most. I loved them and not just because they loved my sons or daughter. I feel their pain or hurt when my children move on and I don’t know how to be a friend to them. It becomes AWKWARD! And what happens? We end up having to sever our connection. Or we can only talk when the former romantic partner isn’t around. It’s a dumb social norm!
Parents – is it easier to find fault and get mad at the former lover of your child? Is it easier to keep your distance just in case they break up later on? If you always got along with the in-law, what did YOU do when they broke up? And if you carry on your relationship or friendship with your son’s former girlfriend, will he think you are trying to get him back together with her or just not want to be around her and he avoids you? Will she be hoping for a reconciliation if she stays friends with you? Or will the son think that is the case? Think about these things. They are real questions and how to deal with your feelings of loss are real. They are actually grief and it isn’t just because your child may be hurting because of the break up. YOU are hurting too if you had a good relationship with the girlfriend or boyfriend. And I don’t have the answers YET. This is a work in progress.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Animal Totems and Messages - how do you know?
Animal Totems and Messages
by Katherine Ari July 16, 2009
I was in two of the big bookstores this week, Barnes and Noble and Borders. I also surf the books online at Amazon.com and other book sites. I have several different Animal Card decks and books on animal symbolism and the messages they bring us. As I look at what is out there, I see whole books on how to find your totem. I want to sell my stories like the next person and would love to have them published and on the lists and shelves, but when that happens, I hope I have enough really informative and entertaining information that I don’t have to take five hundred pages to say what can be said in one page.
By knowing the secret messages of animal behavior, they can help us in our lives. A single animal or a group of animals may come to us to give us certain messages. When you are paying attention, it may happen more often.
I love animals and love nature. I have many pets and I have a beautiful garden in my yard where I recognize the wild life inhabitants that live in harmony with me and my family. I have other encounters hiking, traveling, and even unexpected ones at the grocery store or the mall. I believe that the animals I dream about are real encounters just like the ones I have when I walk out the door.
There are lots of ideas and theories and beliefs about what constitutes a totem or special message. I know what is significant to me, and that is the key to answer the question of how to find your animal totems. What does the animal mean to you?
Let’s take dreams. If you dream about a snake and you are petrified of them, the dream animal means one thing. I’m not upset by snakes and so if I dream of one, I pay attention to the kind and the circumstances around the dream. I use books by Ted Andrews and Jamie Sams as well, and several others. Sometimes, certain animals, especially particular birds, are not in the spirituality books like those by Andrews or Sams. So I take the general information about birds or mammals and then go to a National Geographic book or internet site to find out more. I take all of the information and write it down, study it and then combine the meanings with what is going on in my life. There are certain questions to ask yourself. You must always be discerning when applying meanings to your own life.
This is VERY important. No meaning is set in stone, and no animal encounter necessarily means the same for you as it does for me. The following are some questions to ask yourself. Are there animals, birds, insects, sea life, etc that you are particularly fond of and always have been drawn to? My favorite pets as a child were cats and I always loved black panthers, played with frogs, dogs, and encountered snakes. I am definitely a black panther person. Today, I have regular contact with spiders, dragonflies, cardinals and robins, crows, frogs, cats, dogs, deer, butterflies and hummingbirds, and hawks and buzzards. I love parying mantises. When I encounter an animal or bird that is not a usual encounter or just plain unexpected like in dreams, I look them up because they usually appear to tell me something about what is going on at the time. And that is one page with an answer about animal totems and messengers. The way I can help you is if you write me about your animals or wildlife contact I can help you find the meaning that is for YOU. (Okay, that was an advertisement and invitation or request for you to write me; I admit it!)
Katherine Ari’s Wildlife Encounters July 15 - 17, 2009
by Katherine Ari
It is a regular thing for me to have encounters with crows. They do all sorts of things to get my attention. We do not have ravens in Georgia, which are bigger crows, so if the crow is a really big crow, I get out my books and study ravens as well. The other morning, I was awakened by a bunch of average sized crows in my trees over my bedroom raising a ruckus. Sometimes such a commotion means there is a hawk, or owl, invading the neighborhood, or that that greedy Great Blue Heron is about to land in my yard to eat my pet fish. They know I do not welcome that intruder and they do their best to chase him away or at least tell me his has landed on the roof of the house or garage.
I got out of the bed, slipped on some sandals and went ahead and let the dog out. She would chase the heron away if it was in the yard. I saw no hawk or heron but they were hopping around from tree to tree until they were sure I saw them. Ted Andrews says in Animal Spirit Pocket Guide to expect unexpected magical help with obstacles or problems at hand. My own magic is calling and I will answer the call AND with several crows, I interpret that to mean in several ways or a big way – lots of motion. I do have some obstacles in my life right now that need some magic or unexpected help.
I was out in the yard yesterday walking the dog and two of my cats when I had this beautiful magical encounter with a black and yellow swallowtail butterfly. It wasn’t just that there was a butterfly in my garden. He flittered around everywhere I walked. “New love and joy are coming.” (Andrews) I should get ready to dance the Dance of Joy as I easily go through a new transformation.
The last dream I had last night included three animals, though one was not exactly identifiable. There was a dog or really a fat puppy that was also a baby that was dependent and needy but growing healthily very fast in the dream. I was caring for it and it grew strong and wanted to get out of the box to play. It could talk as dream animals often do, and it was more like a growing baby. Babies for someone my age usually mean new ideas or projects that will flourish if I nurture and care for them correctly.
A dog is about being faithful and protecting the new ventures. I can have success by choosing the right companions or relationships for these ideas.
So then I was carrying the puppy to another space and found us riding on an elephant. It was going around some body of water and we had to walk over some water that had a fish that was about 12 feet long surrounded by various sizes of smaller fish of the same variety. And of course water is about emotions and the life force itself.
The encounter with the fish was very brief but still significant. I cannot identify the exact kind of fish but I remember the shape and sizes. In Andrews’ book, Animal-Wise he has a drawing of a Barracuda. The mouth of my dream fish was not the same and I can interpret that to mean it was not as threatening as a Barracuda would be. Its body shape was a lot like a Florida tarpon fish – but tarpons are not in that book.
The main meaning of the barracuda is to go my own way and not follow the group. The younger ones may school as they grow and then they break away when they are ready to hunt alone. Then they put themselves in the position to take advantage of whatever presents itself – in my case, opportunities expected or unexpected.
I was looking at books at Barnes and Noble about starting businesses. The book I was looking at was about blogging and the author had somewhat of an authoritative and judgmental attitude. It was written two years ago. I suppose that the whole blogging experience has many avenues and ideas. What works for one kind of business or blog does not necessarily apply to another entry. Across the board blanket instructions and proclamations apply to the writer’s own experience with his/her field of interests. I think the barracuda that was too big to be in the school of younger fish and needing to break away was a good image for me as I start these new ventures. I just need to do what I think I need to do and follow my own way. We could even say I need to break out of the box or the race consciousness of the “crowd”.
Then there was the elephant. An elephant is not native to this continent nor is it something that most of us see on a regular basis. When I was a child, I lived next door to two or three winter quarters for some circuses. Two of them had elephants. I DID hear and see them daily. I remember always being impressed by their strength and gentle power.
They may not live all over the world these days, but they have myth and stories about them in many societies. In India, there are several of the Hindu gods that are connected to elephants. They originate in India and Africa today. My dream animal, as well as the ones at my neighboring circuses as a child, was an African elephant, large with ears different from those from India.
They have great sexual power. They have a great sense of smell that tells us, “Do things smell right?” My sense of smell can help me open other energies and otherwise inaccessible worlds. They use their ivory tusks to dig that symbolically means knowledge of plants and roots. Part of our business is working with plants and rooting new cuttings but I also work with others to find the “root” of the challenges.
Elephants have lots of fantasy tales about them like they never forget. Well, that isn’t true, but if someone harms them, they might not forget the offender and even seek revenge. But one thing is true is that the elephant societies are usually females unless it is the mating season. They travel with three ages of females, young, adult and wise old ones that are their leaders. They take care of each other and do grieve when one dies.
The final message for me is to own the Wise Woman status of my maturity and to be strong in my own unique self. I can draw ancient wisdoms, strength, and power by reclaiming my primordial royalty (Andrews).
I am beginning this new venture blogging and striking out in new directions. I have my faithful protectors riding with me (the dog). I am ready to go my own way without staying with the younger “school” of fish (the big fish). I remember thinking the big fish was 12 feet long which could mean 12 days, 12 weeks or 12 months. It could also mean 12 something else. I need to go my way and use my Wise woman knowledge. I can expect transmuting joy (the butterfly) and magical energies from unexpected ways to help with the obstacles (my loyal crow friends). I need to trust “what smells right” or doesn’t. I am strong in my own self, my wisdom, my power and my primordial royalty, past life experiences and respecting traditions and others and doing what is best for everyone involved. I put life coach on my new business cards, but I think Wise Woman Guide fits me better. No, it is not a familiar in the world of advertising, but then, neither am I. I am quite comfortable with who I am. I DO feel a lot of joy being me.
AFTER THOUGHT - Do I need these messages to be successful or to know what to do next on my Life's journey? No. Do they tell me something I don't know? No. They reassure me and the confirm what I do know. They encourage me to continue on in the direction I am going. They tell me I am doing what is right for ME. And I am aware that they are working with me on these experiences and challenges. Sometimes, when I get so caught up in the process, I miss things. They will usually tell me to remember the whole picture and maybe even show me some new or better ideas. I am grateful for their signs and messages and glad to know "they have my back" because they do, they really do.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
George and Nutmeg
George Arrives and Meets Nutmeg
by Katherine Ari July 14, 2009
Several years ago, we had two dogs, an alpha dog that was a six pound Maltese and a small Sheltie. We had two cats. One was a black, white and gray semi-long hair, the same color as our Sheltie, and the other was an orange and white Tabby marking striped male. Both cats were neutered but Nutmeg, the orange one, was a little over 1 year old when we had took him to the vet. He was old enough to have developed a tomcat attitude.
Nutmeg was outdoors during the day and he wandered around the neighborhood within a half block. If another cat, like a tomcat, entered his “territory”, he would act like a typical tomcat asserting his dominance. He frequently came home with scratches and bruises and swellings of unknown origin. But it never slowed him down. He was right back out there on the prowl the next day.
One day a neighbor boy came over to see one of our sons and a red-orange mixed breed dog was with him. He was part Chow Chow, part Retriever and part ? and weighed about 39 pounds. We guessed he was around 8 or 9 months old and he was full of personality. The boy said he just showed up and was hanging around the neighborhood.
He was a very friendly and loving dog. He just loved everyone. But he was a Chow. Chows around this neighborhood have a reputation of killing cats. Chows are hunting dogs and can be overly aggressive and most of them around here are mean. I wasn’t sure of what he would do around Nutmeg or our other more timid cat.
He was inside the yard with the boys. Nutmeg had been out on his rounds but I guess sensed that there was activity going on at his house. He sauntered back into the yard. He wasn’t expecting a NEW dog on the premises. Nutmeg adored the Maltese and the Sheltie loved all cats. The visiting dog spied the cat, and he was on the chase. Nutmeg was startled and ran for the nearest tree. He got up out of the reach of the barking dog and stopped on a limb. “Where the H - - - did THAT come from?” was the look on his bright eyes looking down on the red dog.
We pulled the dog away from the tree and removed him from inside the fenced yard. After a short while, Nutmeg came down from the tree.
The next day, the boy and the stray dog were again at our house. Nutmeg had been out prowling around and came back with his right eye swollen shut. He looked kind of tough and rough. He wasn’t in a very amiable mood to say the least. When the dog came towards him, he just sat there, looking pirate like. He didn’t budge, raised his right paw with his claws out, closed eye, and looked at him. “I’m ready for you this time. Come on Sucker!”
The dog was just about to him and when he realized that he wasn’t going to run this time, he kind of skidded to a stop. “I’m not sure about chasing THIS cat. He isn’t running,” the dog’s face said. Nutmeg took that as his opportunity to go towards the dog. He went for his nose and slapped the dog’s face. The next thing I saw was nine pound Nutmeg chasing 39 pound George, (he eventually was named George) across the yard slapping at his behind and tail with both paws, hissing and spitting, and scaring the dickens out of the dog. But the dog was smiling all the time.
Nutmeg ruled. George was not a threat to the cats. He joined our family, and they got along fine.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Chris
Chris
(mascara alert)
by Katherine Ari July 10, 2009
I had this really special lady in my life named Chris. She didn’t confide in me, but I knew something was going on with her breast for some time before she told everyone. She had breast cancer, but she had been trying alternative solutions. I really don’t know what she had been doing or for how long but in May, 2007 she had a diagnosis. The condition was in advanced stages and there was nothing the doctors could do.
People at the spiritual center were in little groups whispering and crying. Another friend of Chris and mine was talking to me. He said he was so upset about Chris. “What’s going on with Chris?” I said.
“She has (such and such number) phase breast cancer. She only has about a month or so to live.” He went on to say that he was really angry because she could have prevented it. He was angry at her and angry he was losing a good friend. She was going to die.
I could tell that the little huddled groups were her close friends and they were crying and talking about her condition too. Chris was going to die. Well, I know how sensitive and intuitive Chris was. Having all those people she was close to thinking and saying, “Chris is going to die” did NOT help her live, help her affirm a healthy life.
In July, we had a big celebration of her life while she was still living. It was wonderful but people still cried. The heaviness was there. As “enlightened” as we pretend to be, our own grief and sadness and projections were weighing us down.
I started going through my own stuff. When I get close to people I feel things. I am somewhat of an empath. I felt very in tuned to Chris. When she would have a bad day or night, I would feel her symptoms and discomfort. There would be heaviness in my chest and it was hard to breathe. When I would see her I would say, “Were you having a bad day on Monday?” She would always say yes.
I wanted to be near her. After all, everyone was talking about how sick she was and time was getting shorter. The more I was around her the more I “soaked” up. I don’t think I was helping her and it was making it hard for me to function. I pulled away. I avoided the groups discussing her. I mentally and physically withdrew from the energy around her.
But I still cared – deeply. I loved her very much. And I wanted to help her. I sent her a story I wrote. It was actually an account of a story journey I had with my spirit guides. The journey was about ascending up to the top of the Tree of Life to the land of Keter. I also was told by one of my spirit grandmothers that she would be with Chris instead of me until she was no longer needed. She did not say until she died – just until she was no longer needed.
I saw Chris one Wednesday night before I sent her the copy of the story. I told her about my grandmother guide being with her until, I paused, “you know, when it is time.” Chris was okay with what I said and how I said it, but a woman standing near-by had this horrific look on her face as if what I said was terrible.
I did a painting of T-cells lined up like soldiers going after the diseased cancer cells. My inner guides told me to leave it up on a table easel until they told me to take it down. “You will know when it is time to take it down,” they whispered to me. I would look at it especially when I felt her symptoms. It’s like I felt when she was weakest I needed to do the imaging for her. I would look at the painting and see T-cell soldiers fighting the battle. And her energy would come back up.
One day, I was feeling angry at my own body issues. I was fuming and feeling sorry for myself. I got really worked up. I suddenly realized that was what Chris was feeling. She was angry her body had not been able to be healthy, stay healthy, and get healthy. She felt it betrayed her. She had done everything she could do but she was losing the battle. We were both screaming, “It isn’t fair!”
I took out my watercolors and paper. I painted the angry sick body I – we – were angry at. It was a mess and the anger and disgust showed. I put it on the canvas and then sat a while. Anger is a normal feeling but it is important to not hold on to it, to move through it. The first painting dried enough that I could remove it from the block to do another.
I began a painting of a woman’s body surrounded with healing purple fires. I wanted to use the image of the purple flame to make our bodies whole and well. There are many healers who talk about the purple flame and call it to a situation to heal what needs healing. It’s no coincidence T-cells are mostly purple. Violet fire is a healing energy!
I had released the feelings when I painted them. I then painted a third. It was art therapy. I was going through a transition in my thinking and using art as a way to process it. The third painting I call the Goddess of Health. After the healing process, I saw the woman – me – as a mature healthy woman. (See Painting.)
I took pictures of the raw paintings and exported them to jpegs. I emailed them to Chris with a brief explanation because she didn’t always understand my abstracts. She said she got it, felt that way, and she thanked me.
In December her family moved her into hospice. I could not go see her. I wanted to. One time I went into my meditation state in my bed at home and took her hand to go up to the place of my meditation story. My spirit grandmother and other faint spirits appeared as I imagined the ascension. Yes, Chris could go to that “place” but I was not supposed to be there. I started choking and abruptly was no longer in the meditative state. She went up and was there a while, but she didn’t stay – not that time.
Around Christmas I got a simple command. “It’s time to take the T-cell painting down now.” Nothing else was said but I knew the battle was mostly over. I lay in bed close to midnight on January 1, almost January 2. I hadn’t talked to anyone for a few days about her. They said she was very weak and the morphine had been increased. As I lay in bed, I felt a heaviness and difficulty breathing. I had experienced that same feeling when my mother made her transition. She was in a small town hospital in Oklahoma. I was in a hotel in Vicksburg, Mississippi. Mother passed. I felt no breath, no movement. “Goodbye Mother,” I whispered and wept myself to sleep.
I started the walk up the spiritual path, the magical place with Chris. Halfway up you stop to receive a bundle that becomes your robe and then a white dress. I stopped there and Chris took the bundle. She continued alone though I could see my grandmother Oma and images of others with her. “Goodbye Chris. I love you and will miss you.” A couple of days later I learned Chris made her transition just after midnight on January 2, 2008.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Thought on Michael Jackson
I watched the memorial to Michael Jackson yesterday and was reminded of the humanness of the famous star. I have thought about his unexpected death a lot and wanted to share my final feelings about him.
Thoughts on Michael Jackson
by Katherine Ari July 8, 2009
I have spent many hours thinking about the unexpected and untimely death of pop star Michael Jackson since June 25. It was sudden and unexpected but yet not surprising that he died young. But I am saddened by it.
I personally really liked his music and his performances – though I never saw him in person. He was extremely talented, energetic, and entertaining. I saw his videos and his performances on TV. I watched some of the interviews over the years. I saw the pictures in the tabloids. And I looked in his eyes as he talked. I saw a loving and kind child – no, not a man. The rest of what was said about him including the accusations and trial was all influenced by the observer or writers. I do NOT know the truth because I never met him nor talked to him. I had my own interpretations of what I saw but they are colored by my own beliefs systems and experiences. I unknowingly talked to a couple of pedophiles over a period of a few weeks. There were similarities between them. I didn’t see that in Michael’s eyes.
There used to be this woman living in my neighborhood that was a gossip and busy body. Behind her house was a rental house. A lady was living there for a while and she had frequent late night visitors. The gossip lady decided she was dealing drugs and called the police on her. My interpretation was that the woman may have been doing something illegal but it wasn’t drugs. She moved away.
The next renters were a family with children. The children acted strange and out of control. Their mother never came out of the house. She stayed hidden. The gossip didn’t understand why she was so reclusive and so she decided to call the police again and told them she was dealing drugs. If she didn’t understand the behavior, they were dealing drugs. I had another interpretation myself. The mother was mentally ill but not in treatment. I had worked with children of mentally ill parents before and they acted the same. My point is that when the gossip woman didn’t understand something she judged it based on her own fears and judgments – not on facts. And that is what the media did about Michael Jackson. They, like the busy body, form opinions based on limited knowledge and then put it in print. No one could ever understand what being as famous as he was from a young age was like. There have been several people who did know Michael Jackson personally. But when they talk to the reporters, they have different stories too. The fans, and I was a fan, will never know and it is a loss to the world of entertainment. The jury did not completely believe that he was guilty.
I know something else. I am married to an extremely gifted artist. He is different. If I had met him sooner when he was a child and if we had known then what we know now about believing in ourselves, my husband could have become a famous artist. But if he had become known the world over and famous, I doubt if we would still be together. He couldn’t have handled attention from fans and the media. He is probably not famous because he really doesn’t want to be. I refuse to project my beliefs on what Michael was or wasn’t, but I know because I live with a highly sensitive and creative person that he couldn’t have handled fame with that kind of recognition nor could he have handled hundreds of millions of dollars. If he had created at the level that Michael Jackson created with his talent, he also would have died young or ended up in a mental hospital.
Edgar Allan Poe died young. Elvis died young. Mozart died young and he was probably considered the greatest musician and performer of his time.
As Elton John sings, “their candle burned out long before their legend ever did.” There is a writer, Linda Schierse Leonard, Ph.D., who has written several books in including The Call to Create and another Witness to the Fire. In the latter book, she has researched several famous creative people. Some of them met their inner demons, overcame drug and alcohol addictions and became better at their art or talent. And some of her subjects did not overcome them and died young.
We can get an idea of how hard it was to be Elvis or Michael Jackson but we can never understand just how extremely hard it was. Having what society and psychology books say are normal lives did not exist for them. And there was no one that could help without their own belief systems and projections and they weren’t famous. We think that kind of fame and fortune might be exciting but we really have no idea the things they had to sacrifice that we take for granted. They had to be that famous. It was what they were here for.
I admire what Michael Jackson accomplished and that he lived to the age of 50. He had a very difficult journey and he was good at his job. Whatever mistakes or errors in judgment he made are none of my business. I wasn’t there and I could not walk a mile in his moccasins. I am sad for the three children and his family. I honor his talent. There was nothing like it.
Thoughts on Michael Jackson
by Katherine Ari July 8, 2009
I have spent many hours thinking about the unexpected and untimely death of pop star Michael Jackson since June 25. It was sudden and unexpected but yet not surprising that he died young. But I am saddened by it.
I personally really liked his music and his performances – though I never saw him in person. He was extremely talented, energetic, and entertaining. I saw his videos and his performances on TV. I watched some of the interviews over the years. I saw the pictures in the tabloids. And I looked in his eyes as he talked. I saw a loving and kind child – no, not a man. The rest of what was said about him including the accusations and trial was all influenced by the observer or writers. I do NOT know the truth because I never met him nor talked to him. I had my own interpretations of what I saw but they are colored by my own beliefs systems and experiences. I unknowingly talked to a couple of pedophiles over a period of a few weeks. There were similarities between them. I didn’t see that in Michael’s eyes.
There used to be this woman living in my neighborhood that was a gossip and busy body. Behind her house was a rental house. A lady was living there for a while and she had frequent late night visitors. The gossip lady decided she was dealing drugs and called the police on her. My interpretation was that the woman may have been doing something illegal but it wasn’t drugs. She moved away.
The next renters were a family with children. The children acted strange and out of control. Their mother never came out of the house. She stayed hidden. The gossip didn’t understand why she was so reclusive and so she decided to call the police again and told them she was dealing drugs. If she didn’t understand the behavior, they were dealing drugs. I had another interpretation myself. The mother was mentally ill but not in treatment. I had worked with children of mentally ill parents before and they acted the same. My point is that when the gossip woman didn’t understand something she judged it based on her own fears and judgments – not on facts. And that is what the media did about Michael Jackson. They, like the busy body, form opinions based on limited knowledge and then put it in print. No one could ever understand what being as famous as he was from a young age was like. There have been several people who did know Michael Jackson personally. But when they talk to the reporters, they have different stories too. The fans, and I was a fan, will never know and it is a loss to the world of entertainment. The jury did not completely believe that he was guilty.
I know something else. I am married to an extremely gifted artist. He is different. If I had met him sooner when he was a child and if we had known then what we know now about believing in ourselves, my husband could have become a famous artist. But if he had become known the world over and famous, I doubt if we would still be together. He couldn’t have handled attention from fans and the media. He is probably not famous because he really doesn’t want to be. I refuse to project my beliefs on what Michael was or wasn’t, but I know because I live with a highly sensitive and creative person that he couldn’t have handled fame with that kind of recognition nor could he have handled hundreds of millions of dollars. If he had created at the level that Michael Jackson created with his talent, he also would have died young or ended up in a mental hospital.
Edgar Allan Poe died young. Elvis died young. Mozart died young and he was probably considered the greatest musician and performer of his time.
As Elton John sings, “their candle burned out long before their legend ever did.” There is a writer, Linda Schierse Leonard, Ph.D., who has written several books in including The Call to Create and another Witness to the Fire. In the latter book, she has researched several famous creative people. Some of them met their inner demons, overcame drug and alcohol addictions and became better at their art or talent. And some of her subjects did not overcome them and died young.
We can get an idea of how hard it was to be Elvis or Michael Jackson but we can never understand just how extremely hard it was. Having what society and psychology books say are normal lives did not exist for them. And there was no one that could help without their own belief systems and projections and they weren’t famous. We think that kind of fame and fortune might be exciting but we really have no idea the things they had to sacrifice that we take for granted. They had to be that famous. It was what they were here for.
I admire what Michael Jackson accomplished and that he lived to the age of 50. He had a very difficult journey and he was good at his job. Whatever mistakes or errors in judgment he made are none of my business. I wasn’t there and I could not walk a mile in his moccasins. I am sad for the three children and his family. I honor his talent. There was nothing like it.
Grandma Eva - memories
Grandma Eva's birthday was July 3, 1903. She made her transitions in 2003, five months before her 100th birthday. She is on my mind this week and I included some little fond memories today.
Grandma Eva – memories of a special little German Irish lady
by Katherine Ari July 8, 2009
Grandma Eva was at her tallest 5’ tall. When she was 88, she had a heart attack. She lived with Grandpa Roy who was 90 in their home in Vermillion, Kansas, a town of 120 as posted on the road sign. Only about 50 of those actually lived in the town. So a medical helicopter airlifted her to the nearest hospital in Onega, KS. When she was put on the chopper, she had some new Nike’s with her. They transported her on to the hospital where they did quadruple bypass surgery on her heart. None of us had high expectations for the prognosis. She was after all 88 years old and had a gray color to her skin for many years because of the heart problems.
Grandma Eva made it through the surgery with flying colors. Her skin lost the gray color and she was out walking three miles a day after she returned home. But evidently someone in the helicopter also didn’t expect an 88-year-old woman to make it, because when she woke up, she didn’t have her new Nike’s. They weren’t with her personal things. The medic service was called and no one would own up to taking the shoes. Every time she had to return to the hospital, the doctor would ask her “Did you ever find your shoes, Eva?” “No,” she would answer. “I’m still looking for them.”
- Eva loved to garden and she loved to cook. Even when she was 92 or 93, she would insist that we come over to her house for dinner. We always tried to dissuade her by taking her out to eat, but we had to let her “feed” us at least once. The meal was always friend chicken, German scalloped potatoes or mashed potatoes, cold slaw, and a mid-west standard in Kansas as well as Oklahoma, some sort of Jell-O salad.
My mother was a great Fried Chicken maker, but though I am a pretty good cook, it isn’t one of my strong points. So Doug volunteered to help her in the kitchen. He got to the stove and started working with the chicken in the skillet. “Oh no, you don’t have the chicken fork. You can’t fry chicken without the right fork,” she quickly corrected him. She pulled out this very sharp table fork and handed it to Doug. The fork had been her Great-Grandmother’s fork and everyone had used it for frying chicken. Chicken just wouldn’t be right if you didn’t fry it with that 200 yr. old fork.
- Eva had known we were coming. Our children were her only great-grand children. On a good day, she had baked cookies – 2 different flavors and put them up in the freezer. She had oatmeal raisin and chocolate chip with black walnuts and pecans. She didn’t give them to us until we were leaving heading back home to Georgia. She said they were for the trip home. Well, let me tell you that they didn’t make it very far. She put so much love into everything she cooked. I don’t know what else she did, but those chocolate chip cookies were the best tasting chocolate chip cookies we ever tasted. They tasted like a Snicker’s bar but they were homemade cookies. It would have been nice to get the recipe, but there was something more in her batter that couldn’t be put on a card. It was a little thing. I don’t think there were more than two or three cookies for each of us, but what a dear memory – so special.
- In Kansas, the farmers are so spread out that the towns are all very small and far apart. They have a good home health care organization for elderly people to travel to the towns. The nurses and helpers take them home meals, provide nursing care, take them to the beauty shop, and take them to doctors and to the dentist. There are sometimes 3 or 4 different caretakers that come by daily. Her main caregiver was a woman about the same age as Doug and I. She told us about some of the things Eva would pull on her. One of the caregivers had come all the way out to Vermillion for an appointment for Eva. Eva left a note on the door that she had gone to the dentist. She was home. She just didn’t want to be bothered. And she pulled that on another one a day or so later. Our friend found out about it and had to get on her about it. “If you pull that stuff again, I’ll put you back in the nursing home in Centralia. Don’t you be putting notes on the door that you have gone to an appointment when you are home!”
But when Eva did have to move to the nursing home, she did the same kinds of things. “Grandma Eva, why don’t you go out in the sitting room and watch TV or visit with the other people?”
“I don’t like to be around those OLD people,” she would answer. She was 98.
“Grandma, the nurses told us you are supposed to go see the doctor today.”
“I’ve been trying to get away from him all day.” She would say as she dodged his office.
- In Kansas around that area, there are white people of German and Swedish decent. There weren’t any other nationalities around when Doug was growing up so he never heard anyone making derogatory comments. When Eva was in the nursing home, she got to watching TV soaps. Doug was quite surprised when she would start complaining about African-Americans and White mixing on the shows. She was always such a loving and sweet person; he just didn’t know she was so “opinionated” about the races mixing.
He gave me a look and then said, “You know Grandma, Kathy has Choctaw and Cherokee blood in her.”
She got this sweet little look on her face and said, “Oh, that’s nice.” And she didn’t say anything else about the races she didn’t like on TV. It was just her generation and the society she lived in.
- As I said, Grandma Eva loved to garden. She always had flowers and fruits and vegetables in her yard. They also had black walnuts trees. Grandpa Roy would sit out in the backyard picking them out for hours. He was a tall man and had a pretty hard time getting around in his 90’s. One day he had been out there shelling walnuts while sitting on a bucket. When he decided he had shelled them as long as he wanted, he tried to get up. He couldn’t get up. He called Eva to come help, but as I said earlier, Eva was a small woman. She couldn’t get him up either.
She went to the basement and got a rope and tied it around his waist and the other end to the car. She was going to pull him up by driving the car with him tied to it. Luckily, a neighbor saw what they were doing before she took off. After that Doug’s dad took the car keys and car away from both of them. – and not too soon after that, put a padlock on the door to the basement.
- Roy died when he was 96. He was in a special section of the nursing home and she was in another area. They had several times over the years gone to the home on their own, stayed a while until they felt stronger, and then checked themselves out again to return to their own home. So when Roy died, she went back home again. We were there visiting and at that time my father-in-law was living with his girlfriend in another town called Olmsberg, Kansas. It was about a 40-minute drive away.
We were there for our usual family visit and we had been invited to Dale and Betty’s house for the day. We picked Eva up and drove over. While we were there, it started raining really hard and rained that way for about 5 hours.
It is very flat in Kansas and when it rains that hard for that long, the creeks and rivers quickly overflow. Then the roads are flooded and you have to take alternate routes to get around in the spread out farm country. When it was time to go home, we couldn’t go back the way we had come that was on a small two-lane county road.
We had to go further north and take US Highway 36 from the Marysville turn back toward Seneca and then angle around to Vermillion. There is a road that they call the Axel Road that goes straight off US Hwy 36 to County Hwy 88 to Vermillion, but with the rising rivers and flooded other roads, Doug felt that the Axel road would also be flooded out. We were driving back on US Hwy 36. We would drive a little ways and Eva would say, “Now when you get to the Axel road, that is where you turn.”
Doug would answer, “I know about the Axel Rd., Grandma, but we are going on around tonight because of the flood. I expect it will be flooded out too.” She would say okay.
Three or five minutes later, she would say, “Now when you get to the Axel Road, you turn there.” Patiently Doug would answer the same way. Five minutes later, she would say it again. Doug kept his cool and patiently kept answering her the same way. She must have said it 12 times. I was in the back with the kids and we just looked at each other, rolled our eyes, and smiled. Doug just kept answering her the same way. It wasn’t an argument. She just kept saying the same thing like a broken record. He just thought it was because she was old and being forgetful or something related to her 95 years of age.
Then we got almost to the Axel road. Again she said, “The Axel Road is where you turn. They fixed the bridge a few years ago. It is high enough now that the water won’t be over the bridge.” Doug was thinking, “Yes, I know the bridge is higher but if the water is out of the banks, it may still be over the road before or after the bridge.”
But then he thought, “She just keeps insisting. Maybe she knows something I don’t know. If we go down the road and it is under water, we can just turn around. Then maybe she will listen to me.” So he said, “Okay Grandma, we’ll go on the Axel Road.”
We did. There was no problem. “Could it be that being so old and close to the other side that she had a sixth sense about those things?” We wondered. She wouldn’t stop saying it and she was right.
- Grandma was in Onega again in the hospital when she was around 98. We would drive over there every day to be with her. The drive on the country roads was 30 or 40 minutes. Grandma Eva had adult onset diabetes. Doug’s dad has diabetes. My mother and grandmother had diabetes. Doug and I woke up that morning and both of us were thinking about diabetes. We were talking about it while we were in Vermillion. When we arrived at the hospital 45 minutes later, Eva was napping as usual. Suddenly, she opened her eyes and grabbed Doug’s arm. With intensity she looked at him in the eyes and said, “That diabetes is a horrible, mean disease. You better take care of yourself and your family. You don’t want to have to deal with diabetes!” Then she relaxed and went back to sleep. “Woo – woo!” That is what we call a woo - woo; again she was close to the other side and just had a sixth sense that only a 98 year old would have.
- Eva was sweet and generous. She was patient, a good cook, and a good gardener. Every caretaker that she had ever had called her everyday at the nursing home or the hospital. She never said a cross word to anyone even when Roy was being his meanest. Yes, she made her comments about things she saw on TV or about the doctors she wanted to avoid, but at 98, she would get up daily to take care of her roommate who was 101. Doug grew up on Grandma Eva’s fried chicken and homemade pies. We all always felt her love. When she was 99, the family gave her 99 plus one to grow on long stem red roses. “We’ll give you another 100 on your 100th birthday,” a family member said.
“Oh, I don’t think I’ll be here for 100,” she said. She was right again.
Grandma Eva – memories of a special little German Irish lady
by Katherine Ari July 8, 2009
Grandma Eva was at her tallest 5’ tall. When she was 88, she had a heart attack. She lived with Grandpa Roy who was 90 in their home in Vermillion, Kansas, a town of 120 as posted on the road sign. Only about 50 of those actually lived in the town. So a medical helicopter airlifted her to the nearest hospital in Onega, KS. When she was put on the chopper, she had some new Nike’s with her. They transported her on to the hospital where they did quadruple bypass surgery on her heart. None of us had high expectations for the prognosis. She was after all 88 years old and had a gray color to her skin for many years because of the heart problems.
Grandma Eva made it through the surgery with flying colors. Her skin lost the gray color and she was out walking three miles a day after she returned home. But evidently someone in the helicopter also didn’t expect an 88-year-old woman to make it, because when she woke up, she didn’t have her new Nike’s. They weren’t with her personal things. The medic service was called and no one would own up to taking the shoes. Every time she had to return to the hospital, the doctor would ask her “Did you ever find your shoes, Eva?” “No,” she would answer. “I’m still looking for them.”
- Eva loved to garden and she loved to cook. Even when she was 92 or 93, she would insist that we come over to her house for dinner. We always tried to dissuade her by taking her out to eat, but we had to let her “feed” us at least once. The meal was always friend chicken, German scalloped potatoes or mashed potatoes, cold slaw, and a mid-west standard in Kansas as well as Oklahoma, some sort of Jell-O salad.
My mother was a great Fried Chicken maker, but though I am a pretty good cook, it isn’t one of my strong points. So Doug volunteered to help her in the kitchen. He got to the stove and started working with the chicken in the skillet. “Oh no, you don’t have the chicken fork. You can’t fry chicken without the right fork,” she quickly corrected him. She pulled out this very sharp table fork and handed it to Doug. The fork had been her Great-Grandmother’s fork and everyone had used it for frying chicken. Chicken just wouldn’t be right if you didn’t fry it with that 200 yr. old fork.
- Eva had known we were coming. Our children were her only great-grand children. On a good day, she had baked cookies – 2 different flavors and put them up in the freezer. She had oatmeal raisin and chocolate chip with black walnuts and pecans. She didn’t give them to us until we were leaving heading back home to Georgia. She said they were for the trip home. Well, let me tell you that they didn’t make it very far. She put so much love into everything she cooked. I don’t know what else she did, but those chocolate chip cookies were the best tasting chocolate chip cookies we ever tasted. They tasted like a Snicker’s bar but they were homemade cookies. It would have been nice to get the recipe, but there was something more in her batter that couldn’t be put on a card. It was a little thing. I don’t think there were more than two or three cookies for each of us, but what a dear memory – so special.
- In Kansas, the farmers are so spread out that the towns are all very small and far apart. They have a good home health care organization for elderly people to travel to the towns. The nurses and helpers take them home meals, provide nursing care, take them to the beauty shop, and take them to doctors and to the dentist. There are sometimes 3 or 4 different caretakers that come by daily. Her main caregiver was a woman about the same age as Doug and I. She told us about some of the things Eva would pull on her. One of the caregivers had come all the way out to Vermillion for an appointment for Eva. Eva left a note on the door that she had gone to the dentist. She was home. She just didn’t want to be bothered. And she pulled that on another one a day or so later. Our friend found out about it and had to get on her about it. “If you pull that stuff again, I’ll put you back in the nursing home in Centralia. Don’t you be putting notes on the door that you have gone to an appointment when you are home!”
But when Eva did have to move to the nursing home, she did the same kinds of things. “Grandma Eva, why don’t you go out in the sitting room and watch TV or visit with the other people?”
“I don’t like to be around those OLD people,” she would answer. She was 98.
“Grandma, the nurses told us you are supposed to go see the doctor today.”
“I’ve been trying to get away from him all day.” She would say as she dodged his office.
- In Kansas around that area, there are white people of German and Swedish decent. There weren’t any other nationalities around when Doug was growing up so he never heard anyone making derogatory comments. When Eva was in the nursing home, she got to watching TV soaps. Doug was quite surprised when she would start complaining about African-Americans and White mixing on the shows. She was always such a loving and sweet person; he just didn’t know she was so “opinionated” about the races mixing.
He gave me a look and then said, “You know Grandma, Kathy has Choctaw and Cherokee blood in her.”
She got this sweet little look on her face and said, “Oh, that’s nice.” And she didn’t say anything else about the races she didn’t like on TV. It was just her generation and the society she lived in.
- As I said, Grandma Eva loved to garden. She always had flowers and fruits and vegetables in her yard. They also had black walnuts trees. Grandpa Roy would sit out in the backyard picking them out for hours. He was a tall man and had a pretty hard time getting around in his 90’s. One day he had been out there shelling walnuts while sitting on a bucket. When he decided he had shelled them as long as he wanted, he tried to get up. He couldn’t get up. He called Eva to come help, but as I said earlier, Eva was a small woman. She couldn’t get him up either.
She went to the basement and got a rope and tied it around his waist and the other end to the car. She was going to pull him up by driving the car with him tied to it. Luckily, a neighbor saw what they were doing before she took off. After that Doug’s dad took the car keys and car away from both of them. – and not too soon after that, put a padlock on the door to the basement.
- Roy died when he was 96. He was in a special section of the nursing home and she was in another area. They had several times over the years gone to the home on their own, stayed a while until they felt stronger, and then checked themselves out again to return to their own home. So when Roy died, she went back home again. We were there visiting and at that time my father-in-law was living with his girlfriend in another town called Olmsberg, Kansas. It was about a 40-minute drive away.
We were there for our usual family visit and we had been invited to Dale and Betty’s house for the day. We picked Eva up and drove over. While we were there, it started raining really hard and rained that way for about 5 hours.
It is very flat in Kansas and when it rains that hard for that long, the creeks and rivers quickly overflow. Then the roads are flooded and you have to take alternate routes to get around in the spread out farm country. When it was time to go home, we couldn’t go back the way we had come that was on a small two-lane county road.
We had to go further north and take US Highway 36 from the Marysville turn back toward Seneca and then angle around to Vermillion. There is a road that they call the Axel Road that goes straight off US Hwy 36 to County Hwy 88 to Vermillion, but with the rising rivers and flooded other roads, Doug felt that the Axel road would also be flooded out. We were driving back on US Hwy 36. We would drive a little ways and Eva would say, “Now when you get to the Axel road, that is where you turn.”
Doug would answer, “I know about the Axel Rd., Grandma, but we are going on around tonight because of the flood. I expect it will be flooded out too.” She would say okay.
Three or five minutes later, she would say, “Now when you get to the Axel Road, you turn there.” Patiently Doug would answer the same way. Five minutes later, she would say it again. Doug kept his cool and patiently kept answering her the same way. She must have said it 12 times. I was in the back with the kids and we just looked at each other, rolled our eyes, and smiled. Doug just kept answering her the same way. It wasn’t an argument. She just kept saying the same thing like a broken record. He just thought it was because she was old and being forgetful or something related to her 95 years of age.
Then we got almost to the Axel road. Again she said, “The Axel Road is where you turn. They fixed the bridge a few years ago. It is high enough now that the water won’t be over the bridge.” Doug was thinking, “Yes, I know the bridge is higher but if the water is out of the banks, it may still be over the road before or after the bridge.”
But then he thought, “She just keeps insisting. Maybe she knows something I don’t know. If we go down the road and it is under water, we can just turn around. Then maybe she will listen to me.” So he said, “Okay Grandma, we’ll go on the Axel Road.”
We did. There was no problem. “Could it be that being so old and close to the other side that she had a sixth sense about those things?” We wondered. She wouldn’t stop saying it and she was right.
- Grandma was in Onega again in the hospital when she was around 98. We would drive over there every day to be with her. The drive on the country roads was 30 or 40 minutes. Grandma Eva had adult onset diabetes. Doug’s dad has diabetes. My mother and grandmother had diabetes. Doug and I woke up that morning and both of us were thinking about diabetes. We were talking about it while we were in Vermillion. When we arrived at the hospital 45 minutes later, Eva was napping as usual. Suddenly, she opened her eyes and grabbed Doug’s arm. With intensity she looked at him in the eyes and said, “That diabetes is a horrible, mean disease. You better take care of yourself and your family. You don’t want to have to deal with diabetes!” Then she relaxed and went back to sleep. “Woo – woo!” That is what we call a woo - woo; again she was close to the other side and just had a sixth sense that only a 98 year old would have.
- Eva was sweet and generous. She was patient, a good cook, and a good gardener. Every caretaker that she had ever had called her everyday at the nursing home or the hospital. She never said a cross word to anyone even when Roy was being his meanest. Yes, she made her comments about things she saw on TV or about the doctors she wanted to avoid, but at 98, she would get up daily to take care of her roommate who was 101. Doug grew up on Grandma Eva’s fried chicken and homemade pies. We all always felt her love. When she was 99, the family gave her 99 plus one to grow on long stem red roses. “We’ll give you another 100 on your 100th birthday,” a family member said.
“Oh, I don’t think I’ll be here for 100,” she said. She was right again.
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