On March 21, my daughters and granddaughter had a surprise 90th birthday party for my husband, their father and grandfather. Tony is still on cloud 9. First of all he was completely surprised. Every day since the party he is marvelling at the number of people who came, the gifts and cards he received and the joy it gave him.
He had been feeling pretty down. (He does suffer with painful arthritis and all its limitations.) He has been spending every day writing thank-you notes. It has given him a new lease on everyday life.
The party went without a hitch. To see his sister, her grown sons, our daughter Margot and granddaughter Andrea, besides the rest of the family was a thrill, not to mention cousins from everywhere. His colleagues from all parts of the USA who couldn't make the party, sent greetings and long letters expressing their appreciation for Tony's influence in their careers and lives, and the importance of the work he did while he was at Varian.
For some reason that I could not at first analyze, I had very mixed emotions before and since the party. I enjoyed myself immensely at the party and the day after
it when most of the out-of-state family came to our house for Sunday brunch.
I kept thinking how great that we celebrated his birthday, but the next time they all get together may be when he is no longer with us, or perhaps when I will no longer be here. It reminded me of our mortality, and who knows what may happen between now and them.
I've been reading a book "A WOMEN OF INDENDENT MEANS". It's the story of Bess Alcott's life. It's not a particularly well-written, or even extremely interesting
story, but it forces the reader to take stock of life, and makes one aware of the importance of accepting oneself and planning for the future. She even wrote her own obituary. I don't think I have the "balls" to do that.
So Tony's party was another signpost in life's journey for him and for me.
It was one of the happiest occasions we will experience.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Tracey Kidder's " Mountains Beyond Mountains"
This book is all about the exploits, adventures, and progress of Paul Edward Farmer,MD,Phd, and fund raiser, all around the world for his organizaton "Partners In Health." Haiti is his starting place, and the description of poverty, HIV,Aids, and TB in this most exploited country. The author accompanies Dr. Po and gives a blow by blow description of all their experiences together. It is a picture of TB now, Aids now, and it is both inspiring and discouraging. But it is certainly the story of a hero-doctor who cherishes and nourishes life in the poorest and most
disdained by society.
His early life and upbringing make him especially talented to understand all tiers of the human condition. The brilliance of his intellect and his dogged determination give him the tools to tackle the most difficult problems.
The book isn't easy to read, but it is about the present. It portrays the pitfalls of organizations, even those most respected and esteemed. But it also portrays the selflessness of so many individuals and their persistence in seemingly hopeless situations. It is a book about hope. Read it.
disdained by society.
His early life and upbringing make him especially talented to understand all tiers of the human condition. The brilliance of his intellect and his dogged determination give him the tools to tackle the most difficult problems.
The book isn't easy to read, but it is about the present. It portrays the pitfalls of organizations, even those most respected and esteemed. But it also portrays the selflessness of so many individuals and their persistence in seemingly hopeless situations. It is a book about hope. Read it.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Bali Hai...Again
I'm following all the rules for keeping the brain awake, but it takes such effort.
I've been trying to memorize the tune Bali Hai and all the great chords in it, but unless I have the music in front of me, even if I don't look at it, I can't play it. Music is such great medicine for me. My piano playing leaves much to be desired, but it relaxes me and gives me great pleasure. Listening to music is the only way I can get through my daily housecleaning chores cheerfully. Life would be so routine at this time of my life if it weren't for music, reading and old movies on TV. Politics are exciting. Crossword puzzles and a handy dictionary are good brain exercises, too, so is inventive cooking.
There are so many things I would like to do, but crocheting is really my waterloo.
My second crocheted blanket for Monika and Joe's baby is getting out of shape again, but I will finish it and maybe give it to Big Brother. Shoknows I may be able to salvage it.
I need more inspiration. I'll write again, later.
I've been trying to memorize the tune Bali Hai and all the great chords in it, but unless I have the music in front of me, even if I don't look at it, I can't play it. Music is such great medicine for me. My piano playing leaves much to be desired, but it relaxes me and gives me great pleasure. Listening to music is the only way I can get through my daily housecleaning chores cheerfully. Life would be so routine at this time of my life if it weren't for music, reading and old movies on TV. Politics are exciting. Crossword puzzles and a handy dictionary are good brain exercises, too, so is inventive cooking.
There are so many things I would like to do, but crocheting is really my waterloo.
My second crocheted blanket for Monika and Joe's baby is getting out of shape again, but I will finish it and maybe give it to Big Brother. Shoknows I may be able to salvage it.
I need more inspiration. I'll write again, later.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Snowbound
Snowbound by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
This is a poem I read in the 8th grade in St. Nick's Parochial School. I felt the quiet, calm,
and isolation it described. That was probably the spring of 1936. Today, March 2, 2009, I am experiencing the reality. There are huge snow drifts on the deck of our house, the wind is howling, the air is white , and Tony and I are truly on our island by ourselves. Yet it reminds me of that special island, Bali Hai, in the South Pacific. I have been practicing the tune from the musical "South Pacific" for days, and it truly casts a magic spell. I guess we all need a magic place. A place that helps us to see where we are in the scheme of our lives and how to accept and confront the next scene.
Getting hearing aids, definitely, gave me the sense of "being old". They exaggerate all sounds. But if you want to be aware of everything around you, you must learn to filter the sounds and listen to what you think is worthwhile.
Ye Gods! That sounds ponderous and boring. Whoa! I meant for this to be a history of the past not a dissertation. The grandkids will stop reading immediately.
This is a poem I read in the 8th grade in St. Nick's Parochial School. I felt the quiet, calm,
and isolation it described. That was probably the spring of 1936. Today, March 2, 2009, I am experiencing the reality. There are huge snow drifts on the deck of our house, the wind is howling, the air is white , and Tony and I are truly on our island by ourselves. Yet it reminds me of that special island, Bali Hai, in the South Pacific. I have been practicing the tune from the musical "South Pacific" for days, and it truly casts a magic spell. I guess we all need a magic place. A place that helps us to see where we are in the scheme of our lives and how to accept and confront the next scene.
Getting hearing aids, definitely, gave me the sense of "being old". They exaggerate all sounds. But if you want to be aware of everything around you, you must learn to filter the sounds and listen to what you think is worthwhile.
Ye Gods! That sounds ponderous and boring. Whoa! I meant for this to be a history of the past not a dissertation. The grandkids will stop reading immediately.
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