6/4/54 - 12/4/2015

Today marks a year since my brother died.  I don't know how we got through it, but somehow my sister, the girls, Glenn's close friends, and I survived it. I thank those of you who held us up this year, and I ask you to continue to keep us in your thoughts.  I'm sharing the eulogy I wrote for him.  Because, frankly, I don't know what else to say.

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Glenn

Good morning. Thank you all for being here.  Helen, Reba, Billie and I appreciate your taking the time to be with us.

The past seven months have been very difficult.  We knew he was sick.  He knew he was sick. But until he was actually diagnosed, he tried to pretend he wasn't.  After all, he was a lifelong athlete, a long-distance bike rider, a reformed cigarette smoker, a practicer of yoga. How could he be sick?  But he was. Over the months as he prepared to leave this earth, we -his family and friends- had the chance to reflect upon the life he lived.

I want to thank my sister Helen who made it her mission to keep him at home instead of in the hospital.  I want to thank all the medical professionals who worked with him, especially Dr. John Devlin who went above and beyond. I want to thank those of you who faithfully visited him and made him laugh by reminiscing about all the adventures you shared with him over the years. Hopefully, you'll share some of those stories today so we can all laugh once again and so his nieces can get an understanding of who their uncle really was.  'Cause he was really something.

Glenn's nieces were the true lights of his life.  Reba came into our family first.  I'd never seen him happier.  He taught her everything he knew, including how to tease her Aunt Barb.  One of their tricks came when he was teaching her the names of her family members.  As they went around the table, Reba carefully pronounced all the family's names.  Then they got to me.  "Who's this?"  Uncle asked.  And as clear as a bell, Reba said, "blipp." (the raspberry sound) They laughed and laughed at my horrified expression.  That was just the beginning of years of jokes at my expense.  All the kids in the neighborhood knew Uncle. He was like a Pied Piper. The kids would jump the fence to play with Reba and Uncle.  He would have popsicle tailgate parties on the back of his truck. He was fun and they loved him. It wasn't just the neighborhood who knew Uncle, Reba's daycare knew him too.  If something needed to be fixed, Reba said Uncle could do it, and he did.  He also  became a bit infamous when the daycare kids were using magazine pictures for a project and Reba pointed to a bottle of beer and said Uncle!

Helen brought Billie into our lives a few years later, and Uncle was delighted to have a new buddy to teach and play with.  He taught her the tricks of the trade.  If something needed to be fixed, she picked up a screw driver right along with him. They were TV buddies.  They watched everything together, from Spongebob to House.  He taught her to ride a bike.  Every day he carried her backpack and hiked the hill to take her to and from the bus stop.  He was a faithful visitor to her schools.  In kindergarten at Trinity, Billie's teacher helped each child to write and illustrate a book.  The books were a secret until the big day when each child read his or her book.  There wasn't a dry eye in the house when Billie shared the dedication of her masterpiece... to Uncle.  Her book was all about her special Uncle and their special relationship.

Of course, he continued the family tradition of tormenting Aunt Barb with Billie.  We had a big snow one year and he and the girls spent much of the morning making a snowperson.  They were so excited when they ran into the kitchen for hot chocolate and told me to look outside and see their masterpiece.  It was a huge snowperson, a giant woman with a blanket for a skirt and two bright red poker chips on the snow mounds of her chest.  Yes, they'd named the snow woman.  They called her Aunt Barb.

Uncle was quite a character.  We will miss him forever.  I want to end with a poem that Billie wrote a few years ago to honor her uncle, because it pretty much says it all.

I Love You
by Billie Snyder

Dear Uncle
You are the best
You're great at fixing things
I love you
You are the best
You tell me you love me
All the time
I love you
You are the best
You tuck me in at night sometimes
I love you
You are the best
I'm glad you love me
As much as I love you
I love you
You are the best

At this time, I want to ask any of you who feel so inclined to share with us your memories and stories about Glenn.

The War on Christmas????

When will people start thinking for themselves?  When will people stop drinking the Fox News Kool-aide of the war on Christmas?

I recently read this on a person's page and I about threw up.  Besides the fact that the spelling and grammar reveal the ignorance of the writer, the thought itself is offensive and I am not going to "get over it."

Folks who post this stuff  refuse to cite specifically who the people are who are taking Christ out of Christmas.  I'm guessing either they have no idea who these people are, or they realize that to reveal who those people are would reveal their hate speech for what it is.  Because you know who they believe these people are?  They are the atheists, or the Muslims, or [[shudder]] the Jews. 

Guess what, you pseudo-Christians, nobody is taking the Christ out of your Christmas!  Nobody in this country is shutting down your churches.  Nobody is stopping you from displaying images of Jesus all over your home.  No one is forcing you to worship in secret or imprisoning you for your religious beliefs. Especially not the Jews who were imprisoned, tortured, gassed and eliminated for practicing their religion.  To equate your whines about "Happy Holidays" to the struggles of people who have actually been persecuted for the way they worship God is despicable.

But, but ...you continue to argue.  "We" can't put up crosses in public places.  "We" can't view angels  at the banks.  "We" can't visit a nativity at the mall.  If you would stop to think for yourself for just a moment, you'd see there's a reason for that.  Between November 1 and the middle of January there are approximately thirty religious holidays celebrated by Americans.  Where's the equal time for the display of their holidays?  How about if mosques start signaling our communities with sirens starting the call to prayer?  Would you drop to the ground and pray with  these fellow Americans you expect to "get over" their beliefs to say Merry Christmas to you? I doubt it; you'd probably want them to be arrested.

What do you visualize when you think of celebrating Christmas? Christmas trees.Candy canes. Snowmen. Rudolph. The Grinch. Sleigh bells. Wildly decorated homes and lighting competitions. Santa at the mall. Santa at the restaurant. Santa on the corner ringing a bell. Christmas parties. Sentimental commercials telling you to make a memory out of a cup of coffee. Huge meals and enough sweets and goodies to get you woefully fat?  Christmas shopping - especially the black Friday  extravaganza.  Presents, presents, and more presents. Lavish presents - gold and diamond jewelry, new cars with big red bows! Yes! Yes! Yes!  These are the things that make Christmas fun! fun! fun!

And these same things are what would make Jesus weep were He to return to us during the peak of the season.

If Christ has been taken out of your Christmas, nobody did that to you.  You tossed Him aside yourself.

Do you really want Christ in your Christmas?  Then do what He asks of us every day of our lives.  Love one another. Treat others with kindness and compassion.  Tolerate what we are not used to and let God be the judge of how others celebrate, or do not celebrate, Him. Spread His word, but do not equate it to a greeting from a cashier at the department store. Seriously, why does what goes on in a store have anything to do with keeping Christ in Christmas?

Do you really want Christ in your Christmas?  Help your fellow man.  I am proud to be a part of the blessings my church practices year round: grocery give aways, free hearty meals, clothing give aways, quick responses to the specific needs of our community.  I am super proud of my friends Erin Collins and Scot Sokolowski.  One Friday night in October, they decided to go into the city with food for the homeless.  This singular action has become Gavin's Army!  Within weeks, many lives in Albany, New York have been changed forever! Look up the Facebook page for Gavin's Army to see Christmas in action. You'll be amazed at what can happen when one does the work of God.

In my opinion, there is no war on Christmas. To say so, to berate people for joyfully wishing you a happy holiday, to moan and complain that your religious rights are being taken from you, is silly and selfish.  When one celebrates with Christ in one's heart, nobody has the power to remove you or Him from Christmas.

Back to School...again

Hello September!

For me, this time of the year is akin to New Year's Eve.  For most of my life it signaled the end of a school year and the beginning of a new year.  It always involved resolutions: I'm going to get more sleep, keep up with my paperwork, decorate my classroom more frequently, learn the  names of all my students the first week, be much less grumpy.  And like all new year's resolutions, it never took long for me to break all of these. 

It is going on nine years since I retired.  I find that hard to believe.  Though I haven't been in a classroom in years, I am still interested in all things educational.  It upsets me that teachers are no longer able to explore their creativity, but instead must channel it into completing a standard curriculum aimed at standardized tests. It continues to distress me that teachers are not given the tools to be successful at their jobs: small classes, helpful assistants, up-to-date materials, clean and comfortable classrooms, strong administrative support, sufficient planning time.  Yet, despite all these roadblocks, teachers continue to love their jobs and successfully reach their students.  Teachers continue to go above and beyond, and often do it for "free."  Not that the Board of Education at my former school district appreciates them.  Their contracted steps have been denied for years.  Raises, if they are offered, are minuscule.  Health care programs narrow their benefits and cost more.  It's wrong.  Yet, the public doesn't complain because to do so might raise their taxes.  Ok, public, I get it.  But  now is the time you need to get involved in a protest that involves education.  A protest only you, the public, can effectively launch.  I'm talking about an uprising against the fees students must pay to participate in extra-curricular activities.

According to the BOE philosophy, extra-curriculars are costing the district too much money.  They can't give teachers a step increase or raise because these activities are so expensive.  Their answer? Charge students $100 per activity.  This has been going on for a few years in the sports department.  This year, the charges are being aimed at drama students.  A parent that has a few active children in high school could pay as much as $600 for their kids to participate in the activities that colleges examine when determining who to admit.  No money, no activities, a bare college application.  The recent addition of the drama charge will supposedly bring in $65,000 to the district. Hmmph.  I've examined both the district's budget and list of assistants to the assistants, and I could cut that amount and more if they'd let me.  Supplementing a budget at the expense of a child's well-rounded education is disgusting. 

Oh, and did I mention that the fees are dumped into a general slush fund?  There's no accounting for how the money is spent.  There is no distributing the money to the schools for their programs.  The general fund. You know, the one that supplies donuts for supervisor meetings. I have repeatedly contacted the local newspaper to do an investigation on these fees, but the reporters have ignored my requests. Maybe one of you taxpayer parents might have more success.

I wish all educators the best of luck this year.  Not only do I wish them the resources they need for their classrooms, I wish them a lot of luck with the activities for which they sacrifice family time and free time to provide for students. I really hope they can fill their teams, cast their plays, and provide a marching band, all the while collecting money for the BOE's donuts.

Orlando, because you knew I'd eventually have to speak up

The recent mass murder in Orlando has shaken me to the core.  The act itself was horrible.  Just horrible.  But, the reaction of so many Americans has left me with a sense of desperation about what our country has become.

For a land that once prided itself on being founded for religious freedom, for being a melting pot of races and cultures, I see a growing, vocal trend that insists only white Christian heterosexual people are welcome.  I see Facebook posts from the Woodstock generation and I shake my head and wonder, what the hell happened to them?

Though the reasons this shooter actually entered the nightclub and murdered fifty people are complex, there are certain realities that too many in our country are trying to deny.  First of all, this man was not an illegal/legal alien from an Islamic country.  He was born and raised in America. His father is devastated by what his son did. Those racist cries to keep Muslims from entering America, are just that - racism. What is going on in America when targeting a race of people is not considered abhorrent?  Why is it okay with 'Muricans to hate people of color?  to proudly flaunt that hate under the guise of patriotism? to make innocent people afraid to leave their homes? Do none of these people know about the Japanese internment camps that our country forced Americans to live in?  Do none of these people know our country's history of denying Jews escaping Hitler access to our country- how it happened and the why of it all? I think not. Unacceptable ignorance.

Secondly, so-called patriots are determined to make this an ISIS attack on all of America.  No matter what the murderer said, it is being reported that outside terrorist organizations were not involved in this mass murder. Personally, I think his cry of allegiance to ISIS was a way to make himself feel more noble, to make himself feel like a martyr instead of a pathetic homophobe.  The person who did this purposely targeted a specific group of people, the LGBT community. In my opinion, there is no denying that the vitriol constantly touted in the social networking pages and even in a lot of churches, fed this mentally ill man's hatred.  He saw two men kissing and he was outraged. A friend of mine recently wrote that when she and her lesbian fiancé enter a room, they have to read the crowd.  They have to protect themselves, they have to be on guard, they have to answer to the nagging fear that someone will do them harm for being who they are and for loving each other. This is shameful.  This is wrong.  And listen up, "patriots," this is un-American.

Why has the Congress of this country allowed the NRA to buy them?  Too many people have no common sense when it comes to gun control.  Don't bother to smugly argue this point with me because I have heard the bullshit and I do not buy it. This guy was able to legally purchase a weapon of mass destruction. Legally. I cannot fathom any mentality that tries to justify such gun ownership.  Civilized countries that have taken gun ownership seriously and have enacted the laws needed, do not have the constant domestic gun murders that our country is growing used to. When I traveled in China and Venezuela I was asked more than once how many guns I owned and what kind I had.  I was appalled to realize that the general perception of Americans was not just that we're fat, loud, and entitled, but that we're all gun slingers.

I have not attempted to enter into debate on Facebook, and frankly,  I'm not interested in any "debate" concerning this blog. On Facebook,  I have consciously not pointed out that many of you who are "standing with" Orlando or who have altered your pictures with the rainbow and the "I am Orlando" banner have repeatedly posted memes where, at best, you make fun of the LGBT community, and at the worst, express disgust with that which you don't understand. When so-called "truths" are used to incite fear, promote hatred, and embrace racism, I am reminded of something Martin Luther King, Jr. said,  "Nothing in the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and consciencious stupidity."

America does not need to fear intruders destroying our country.  We are imploding.

Internet Panhandling

So, big shot "singer" Kanye West claims to be 53 million dollars in debt and he wants Mark Zuckerberg to bail him out. Seriously.  Seriously?  That's his response to his own irresponsibility, getting others to save his sorry butt?  What's this world coming to?

The first time I heard about internet panhandling was when I read Karyn Bosnak's book, Save Karyn : One Shopoholic's Journey to Debt and Back. Her website SaveKaryn.com was started in 2002 and was the predecessor to today's Gofundme.com. She was a working girl in New York City, totally enthralled with shopping and owning name brands.  When she found herself in debt, she did what hadn't been done before.  She listed a website and asked kindhearted people to each send $1. This novelty appealed to many, and soon she was out of debt and rolling in the dough thanks to, as Blanche DuBois said, "...the kindness of strangers." It didn't take long for others to realize what a goldmine this internet panhandling could be, thus the proliferation of sites such as the aforementioned GoFundMe.

Recently, in a quiet, neighboring town, two officers of the law were tragically murdered in the line of duty. A few hours later on the same day, a GoFundMe account appeared asking for money for the families.  I was taken aback, seriously. Seriously?  Why was an account established?  Don't these men have insurance? Don't the police have special funds to take care of their own?  And just who was behind this account? Surely, not those who were grieving. Later, another account was established, this one being the official fundraising account. Huh? Is this how America now responds to tragedy? Whatever happened to obituaries asking in lieu of flowers contributions be made towards funeral expenses or college accounts for survivors' children or a charity the deceased supported? Whatever happened to making these suggestions to friends instead of the general public?

Don't get me wrong.  I have contributed to the GoFundMe accounts for many people I personally know.  I make no judgement about them asking for help, that's what friends are for.  But has it gotten out of hand? When my brother was diagnosed with cancer, quite a few people asked for his account information so they could donate.  Bless their hearts for wanting to help, but we had never even considered doing an internet fundraiser. His medical expenses were our family's responsibility, not the world's.

If you Google, there are a lot of these sites available allowing you to beg for money. It is unbelievable what people ask/beg for. Lots of people expect the general public to graciously fund their weddings, honeymoons, Caribbean vacations, boob implants, boob reductions, facelifts, mission trips, braces, gambling losses, bad decisions and so on. And lots of people get really angry when their financial demands aren't met.  Almost as entertaining as the down-on-their-luck stories people tell, are the angry rants they post when the money isn't coming in. Cyberbeg.com is full of sad, sad stories.  I happen to believe the majority of those are scams, but what do I know? Anyhow, there is no denying what started as one silly young woman strapped by debt has bloomed into big business.

But Kanye?  Are you really so narcissistic that you feel entitled to Mark Zuckerberg's money? (That's a rhetorical question, by the way.) America, do you really expect others to pay your bills? It's scary to me, but too many are probably thinking, why not?  Why not me?

Maybe I should give this internet panhandling a try.  If you like this blog, feel free to send donations my way.  I'm retired and on a fixed income.  And, I'd really, really like to take a cruise around the world. A nice long cruise, in a suite, with a balcony.   I promise to blog my adventures in paradise as a special thank you to my supporters.  Seriously.

Happy?

I cyberstalked someone on Facebook today.  We are not "friends," but she reveals a lot of personal information on her page, and her life fascinates me.  We are about the same age.  We are physically shaped the same.  But unlike me, she wears fun clothes, clingy clothes and flaunts her ample figure and big bosom.  She smiles broadly.  And she smiles a lot.  She loves her job, her relatively new husband, her friends, her hair, her busy and fulfilling life.  She is not particularly attractive, but her aura enchants those in her life and they see her as beautiful.  She is one of the most vivacious people I sort of know.

She is happy. Very, very happy.

And I am so jealous of her.  Because I can't imagine that I will ever be happy again.

I've been told that life is a choice and we choose whether-or-not to be happy.  I certainly don't remember choosing miserable.  I used to be a lot like her.  I used to be happy.  It's gone.  That part of my life is gone, and I don't see it coming back.

Understandably, this has been a terrible year for me as I watched my brother die.  I helped my sister with the caregiving, and I probably did a lousy job. I was squeamish with a lot of things that involved bodily fluids. I'm not very strong, so I was always afraid of hurting him. He took out a lot of anger on me, and I held it and was deeply hurt by it. So, I probably wasn't always very nice to him. We once had to go to the "principal's office" (the social worker) after a fight we had on the way to radiation that carried on into the facility. I think that was the day I just stopped smiling. Real smiling, I mean.  I can paste one on my face, but I can't feel it.

For months, I didn't do anything Facebook worthy.  My sister and the girls traveled to China.  I stayed with Glenn. I do not regret it; I'm glad I could do it for my family.  But my sense of adventure is gone now.  If you offered me that trip today, I'd say no.   My outings were short because I didn't want to leave him alone; so instead of a beach trip, I didn't plan anything more than a trip to the grocery store or an outing to the Superstore for something he needed. Somehow, those months have scarred me because I can't get back into the groove of going out and doing things. I no longer have that desire for adventure, or the energy to have "fun."  I feel serious anxiety about going anywhere. I want to stay in my house and play games on the computer or watch endless reruns of Grey's Anatomy. Are there degrees of agoraphobia? Am I on the agoraphobic spectrum?

This person I cyberstalked has a lot of friends, different kinds of friends.  She's always doing things and going places with groups of friends.  Or with other couples, because people who are married do "couple" things and they like even numbers when they do them.  People ask her to join them, they want to do things with her. They want to take pictures with her. I'm so jealous of the fun she has, of the joy she feels every day upon waking up.

I learned that caregiving can be a very lonely thing.  The whole time I was in Pennsylvania, I did not see one person that wasn't medically related or a personal friend of my brother's. I have to say, I miss his friends. They visited faithfully and brought joy and hope to the long days.  I completely fell off the social register. I rarely saw anyone from my old life.  Months and months of that can do a number on a person.  I am now used to the solitude. It's my new norm.  I may hate it, but I have no energy to change it.

I envy Facebook Woman her happiness.  I don't believe I will ever be truly happy again.  I am so full of grief and anger that I don't believe I have enough years left in my life to work it out and get past it. I'm angry at the people who let me down.  I am angry that I lost a dear friend to cancer a few weeks before I lost my brother. I am angry that I was so helpless to do any real good when my brother suffered. I am angry that I can't sleep because I am haunted by the last week of his life playing over and over again in my head. I am angry because I feel so alone all the time.  I feel sad that my prayers seem to be falling on deaf ears.

Is that all there is?  That Peggy Lee song used to haunt me. I reread the lyrics recently, and even Peggy brings out the booze and goes dancing with her friends. That's the most depressing song I know, and even that song is happier than I feel anymore.

Is this just a stage of grief, or is this the rest of my life?  Will I ever be happy again? Will I ever again go to bed grateful for what I have and wake up thankful for what's to be?

I recently read an article by Elizabeth Kupferman that touched me deeply because she understood exactly how I was feeling.  I got the feeling that what I'm experiencing is more normal than abnormal.  Part of her advice was to share these feelings.  So, I wrote my blog.  And now you know. Here's a link to her amazing article.

http://www.expressivecounseling.com/grief-loneliness-friends/ 

  (You'll need to copy/paste this address, I can't get the link to work.)