Dear President Obama and Members of the Democratic Party Leadership:
STOP trying to be reasonable with the Republicans, just STOP.
They are not bargaining in good faith, they are incapable of doing so if they want to achieve their agenda, they will take every concession you make and use it against you, and they will never act for the good of the citizens of this country.
We are in a critical time, and should you give in to the demands of cutting everything and no new revenues, particularly not on the oil industry or the ultra rich, you will be selling us all down the river of continuing depression (it's not a recession, there are over 25% unemployed), increasing foreclosures, soaring homelessness and complete loss of respect and trust by the rest of the world.
By trying to be the better person and reach a consensus, you are giving away much of the birthright of our children. Things that my parents and grandparents fought for their whole lives - decent working conditions, child labor laws, pay equity, food safety, the right to medical care, a small measure of security for old age.
What do our children and grandchildren have to look forward to in their lives in this country? Less opportunities in education, longer working hours for lower wages, inability to become homeowners, decreasing access to medical care, no option to retire?
Please, STOP, and stand for what we elected you to do. Represent us. Protect our rights and our futures.
Friday, July 1, 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
On school days and such
I was just reading a friend's blog, he is one of the funniest people I know, and one of the deepest also. This entry was about being the fat kid in school and it really resonated with me - no, not from me being the fat kid, but how we are so shaped by our "educational" experiences.
I was not the fat kid, in fact, I was so skinny that my Grandmother gave me tonic to stimulate my appetite when I was a teen. I was almost always the new kid, there were 16 school changes in my sojourn from 1st to 12th grade, miraculously completed in the usual 12 years. Sometimes we moved so often the school records didn't keep up with us so my mom started getting them and hand carrying them to the new school.
School started for me in a one room building with six grades represented within the student body of 12 or 14 of us, many of whom were cousins of mine. Our teacher was Miss Dick, which was really difficult for a lisping 6 year old, and my dad would tease me by calling her Miss Stick because that's evidently how it sounded when I said it. It was super compounded the next year, when we moved to the new "big" school with 3 rooms, and went up to grade 7, and Miss Dick got married and became Mrs. Sinema. There is no mercy for little kids!
Isn't it funny what details you remember?
I did what most kids did at the time, took a lunch or walked home and ate. Pretty great actually compared to what I found out later about schools that had cafeterias.
In second grade, about halfway through the year, we moved from the lower mainland of rural B.C. to the rural north of Wisconsin. That was pretty blissful from a 7 year old viewpoint because my Mom taught me at home and I had a lot of time to play or read because I could complete everything as quickly as I wanted. There were many opportunities to skate on the street, build snow forts and funny kinds of igloos, and play with some kids who lived up the street and had a fox in in their yard (tied to a dog house). Back in those days they parked old cars on the river and made bets on when they would go through the ice. Can you even imagine doing that now?
There were so many moves after that it was hard to keep track for a while, we went to the north west Washington peninsula, then back to the first school for a half year each, then it went crazy, hopping all over - Texas, Washington, Tennessee, Oregon, Kentucky, Washington, Oklahoma, until finally to start junior high in school number 15 in central Washington. And, we stayed, for three years!!
You can't possibly imagine how horrible that is, unless you have been the new kid 14 times, and don't know how to stay anywhere. I had kind of gotten used to the rudeness of teachers, assuming since I started in Canada or moved so often I must be behind whatever level my mother was saying I need to be assigned to . Or, assuming since we often rented mobile homes, that we were "trailer trash" and treating us accordingly. Fortunately, I was up to or ahead of the pack academically, so didn't end up being put back anywhere.
The venality of some teachers couldn't compare to the ability of children to be absolutely horrible, from the casual snubs because you are new or have funny clothes, to the deliberately mean and vicious.
At least I wasn't fat, I had glasses by grade 3, was a head taller than the other kids and a penchant for weird clothes (that was mostly in Jr high and high school when one of my mom's friends gave me her cast offs, most of which were designer duds - very stylish if you were 30 something and lived in a big city, not so much if you were 13 and living in some totally backward trash heap - but they fit).
Jr. High was in a lovely summer resort town, the redeeming factors were having a lake, a horse, a dog and a friend. We lived 100 yards from the lake and had so much freedom. On non school days, we left the house in the morning and came in for meals and since there was a party line that all the moms used to call us in if they needed us, no one cared.
I had just kind of adjusted to staying and another mid-year Christmas time move happened - on to school 16. Good God, it was beyond belief: small minded, bigoted, primitive, over-religious, sanctimonious, you name it, it was there. And, a ferocious mean-ness for anyone not of the in-bred local clan. The decent, kind and considerate were so rare they still stand out in memory. The best thing from high school happened in my senior year, just before I dropped out, we got a new music teacher. He was a phenom, and brought a life long love of music to a new level with skill and humor. He became friends with the whole family and we still see him.
Since we moved many times outside of the school year also, by the time I was 20 I had 61 addresses.
When I look at the rare pictures of me from then I am amazed. I don't look at all like the image I had of me. I had always thought I was a big, clumsy, ugly kid. Evidently not, but I've been trying to get over that ever since.
More later on the fat kid stuff and weight.....
I was not the fat kid, in fact, I was so skinny that my Grandmother gave me tonic to stimulate my appetite when I was a teen. I was almost always the new kid, there were 16 school changes in my sojourn from 1st to 12th grade, miraculously completed in the usual 12 years. Sometimes we moved so often the school records didn't keep up with us so my mom started getting them and hand carrying them to the new school.
School started for me in a one room building with six grades represented within the student body of 12 or 14 of us, many of whom were cousins of mine. Our teacher was Miss Dick, which was really difficult for a lisping 6 year old, and my dad would tease me by calling her Miss Stick because that's evidently how it sounded when I said it. It was super compounded the next year, when we moved to the new "big" school with 3 rooms, and went up to grade 7, and Miss Dick got married and became Mrs. Sinema. There is no mercy for little kids!
Isn't it funny what details you remember?
I did what most kids did at the time, took a lunch or walked home and ate. Pretty great actually compared to what I found out later about schools that had cafeterias.
In second grade, about halfway through the year, we moved from the lower mainland of rural B.C. to the rural north of Wisconsin. That was pretty blissful from a 7 year old viewpoint because my Mom taught me at home and I had a lot of time to play or read because I could complete everything as quickly as I wanted. There were many opportunities to skate on the street, build snow forts and funny kinds of igloos, and play with some kids who lived up the street and had a fox in in their yard (tied to a dog house). Back in those days they parked old cars on the river and made bets on when they would go through the ice. Can you even imagine doing that now?
There were so many moves after that it was hard to keep track for a while, we went to the north west Washington peninsula, then back to the first school for a half year each, then it went crazy, hopping all over - Texas, Washington, Tennessee, Oregon, Kentucky, Washington, Oklahoma, until finally to start junior high in school number 15 in central Washington. And, we stayed, for three years!!
You can't possibly imagine how horrible that is, unless you have been the new kid 14 times, and don't know how to stay anywhere. I had kind of gotten used to the rudeness of teachers, assuming since I started in Canada or moved so often I must be behind whatever level my mother was saying I need to be assigned to . Or, assuming since we often rented mobile homes, that we were "trailer trash" and treating us accordingly. Fortunately, I was up to or ahead of the pack academically, so didn't end up being put back anywhere.
The venality of some teachers couldn't compare to the ability of children to be absolutely horrible, from the casual snubs because you are new or have funny clothes, to the deliberately mean and vicious.
At least I wasn't fat, I had glasses by grade 3, was a head taller than the other kids and a penchant for weird clothes (that was mostly in Jr high and high school when one of my mom's friends gave me her cast offs, most of which were designer duds - very stylish if you were 30 something and lived in a big city, not so much if you were 13 and living in some totally backward trash heap - but they fit).
Jr. High was in a lovely summer resort town, the redeeming factors were having a lake, a horse, a dog and a friend. We lived 100 yards from the lake and had so much freedom. On non school days, we left the house in the morning and came in for meals and since there was a party line that all the moms used to call us in if they needed us, no one cared.
I had just kind of adjusted to staying and another mid-year Christmas time move happened - on to school 16. Good God, it was beyond belief: small minded, bigoted, primitive, over-religious, sanctimonious, you name it, it was there. And, a ferocious mean-ness for anyone not of the in-bred local clan. The decent, kind and considerate were so rare they still stand out in memory. The best thing from high school happened in my senior year, just before I dropped out, we got a new music teacher. He was a phenom, and brought a life long love of music to a new level with skill and humor. He became friends with the whole family and we still see him.
Since we moved many times outside of the school year also, by the time I was 20 I had 61 addresses.
When I look at the rare pictures of me from then I am amazed. I don't look at all like the image I had of me. I had always thought I was a big, clumsy, ugly kid. Evidently not, but I've been trying to get over that ever since.
More later on the fat kid stuff and weight.....
Sunday, January 30, 2011
dinner at a really nice restaurant and a sense of loss
Yep, linen, silver and all. We went out for Mom's 84th, which was actually the 19th, but this is when we could all get there. Dad set it up, of course, Mom did the reservations and calling us to be there, but he's feeling well enough to orchestrate.
It was really good to get together with my sibs and thier spouses and celebrate the survival of this past year. It has been a real roller coaster, and I am hereby declaring that 2011 is going to be a much better, less stressful year all around.
2010 came in with some issues, Dad became progressively more ill and ended up in the hospital several times. Mom was frightened and anxious. By May it was obvious that surgery was Dad's only option, and he had investigated the alternatives, so he had an aortic valve replacement in June.
While doing most of the support care taking, because they live closest, my brother and his wife also had to deal with her Dad's decline and eventual death to cancer.
By September Dad was failing again and the determination was made that the stitches weren't holding and the leakage was causing the red blood cells to be sheared, and he was also extremely anemic. Two days before Thanksgiving he went back into surgery for the "full meal deal", a complete medial sternotomy, cracked chest/ ribs spread/ open heart. It was tough, there were problems during surgery and he was on the heart-lung machine a long time, including having to restart it when they discovered a leak before closing and they had to go back and see if they could find it. Evidently most of the leak was sealed, although the surgeon told me he couldn't see it, there was no loss into the cavity but he put in stitches where it showed on the ultra sound.
Now, he's organizing dinners for Mom. And, he gave her a wonderful toast - apologizing for losing his composure, but a great tribute to all of her support and effort over the year.
It was a really great evening, except Himself didn't feel well enough to go, but I was happy to be with my family, and am blessed with a BIL and SIL who are superb people. And reminded again that it is very special and unique to have parents who have been married for 61+years and still love each other.
The sense of loss stuff is a totally different issue, changes. Two weeks ago my director went on administrative leave pending investigations of performance issues; and, my local pharmacist and grocery told us they are closing, where we've done business for 26 years; then, last weekend my minister announced she is retiring. Honestly, I really don't want to deal with changes like this, at least it's 3 and so that should be done with, if you believe my Scottish grandmother.
I just want a calm year, with good health, happiness and employment for all.
It was really good to get together with my sibs and thier spouses and celebrate the survival of this past year. It has been a real roller coaster, and I am hereby declaring that 2011 is going to be a much better, less stressful year all around.
2010 came in with some issues, Dad became progressively more ill and ended up in the hospital several times. Mom was frightened and anxious. By May it was obvious that surgery was Dad's only option, and he had investigated the alternatives, so he had an aortic valve replacement in June.
While doing most of the support care taking, because they live closest, my brother and his wife also had to deal with her Dad's decline and eventual death to cancer.
By September Dad was failing again and the determination was made that the stitches weren't holding and the leakage was causing the red blood cells to be sheared, and he was also extremely anemic. Two days before Thanksgiving he went back into surgery for the "full meal deal", a complete medial sternotomy, cracked chest/ ribs spread/ open heart. It was tough, there were problems during surgery and he was on the heart-lung machine a long time, including having to restart it when they discovered a leak before closing and they had to go back and see if they could find it. Evidently most of the leak was sealed, although the surgeon told me he couldn't see it, there was no loss into the cavity but he put in stitches where it showed on the ultra sound.
Now, he's organizing dinners for Mom. And, he gave her a wonderful toast - apologizing for losing his composure, but a great tribute to all of her support and effort over the year.
It was a really great evening, except Himself didn't feel well enough to go, but I was happy to be with my family, and am blessed with a BIL and SIL who are superb people. And reminded again that it is very special and unique to have parents who have been married for 61+years and still love each other.
The sense of loss stuff is a totally different issue, changes. Two weeks ago my director went on administrative leave pending investigations of performance issues; and, my local pharmacist and grocery told us they are closing, where we've done business for 26 years; then, last weekend my minister announced she is retiring. Honestly, I really don't want to deal with changes like this, at least it's 3 and so that should be done with, if you believe my Scottish grandmother.
I just want a calm year, with good health, happiness and employment for all.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
On Speaking in Public
Or, something like that. And, I volunteered!!
Seriously, I've wanted to participate in the Sunday Celebration at Youth Team Conference for YEARS!! I actually thought I'd have to wait until I retire and have time to serve on the regional planning team to be able to do so.
Surprisingly, the call was made Saturday, the celebration is being reconfigured a little and who would like to represent the YOU group? I thought about it over lunch for a few minutes, Diane said I should go for it, but I had that inadequacy quiver in my stomach and the "What on earth would I say?" ricocheting around in my head. So I thought, maybe next time. Then, when the question was asked and my hand went up - even I was surprised.
First, the format is kind of like the table talk segment of Toastmasters - the wonderful Mark, our amazing musician, takes 5 of his songs and places them face down on the floor. Then, someone from the group comes up and picks one up and hands it to Mark, who reads off the title and the speaker who is moved to speak on it gets up and has 3 minutes to deliver their message.
I went first, not necessarily because I wanted to get into "Love My Enemies", I thought it would go well to get it done and not sit and worry, and I knew youngest child was going to speak also and she wanted to go last.
It wasn't too bad, I managed to get the topic in at least once, and also got in the 2 stories I really wanted to share, and only pushed the time a little.
since those folk are my peers in something that is critically important for me, it was a great step, and I really felt OK with it. Sure, I could have done this or that a little better, but it worked and I liked what I said and, for the most part, the way I delivered it.
I wonder what will come next???
Seriously, I've wanted to participate in the Sunday Celebration at Youth Team Conference for YEARS!! I actually thought I'd have to wait until I retire and have time to serve on the regional planning team to be able to do so.
Surprisingly, the call was made Saturday, the celebration is being reconfigured a little and who would like to represent the YOU group? I thought about it over lunch for a few minutes, Diane said I should go for it, but I had that inadequacy quiver in my stomach and the "What on earth would I say?" ricocheting around in my head. So I thought, maybe next time. Then, when the question was asked and my hand went up - even I was surprised.
First, the format is kind of like the table talk segment of Toastmasters - the wonderful Mark, our amazing musician, takes 5 of his songs and places them face down on the floor. Then, someone from the group comes up and picks one up and hands it to Mark, who reads off the title and the speaker who is moved to speak on it gets up and has 3 minutes to deliver their message.
I went first, not necessarily because I wanted to get into "Love My Enemies", I thought it would go well to get it done and not sit and worry, and I knew youngest child was going to speak also and she wanted to go last.
It wasn't too bad, I managed to get the topic in at least once, and also got in the 2 stories I really wanted to share, and only pushed the time a little.
since those folk are my peers in something that is critically important for me, it was a great step, and I really felt OK with it. Sure, I could have done this or that a little better, but it worked and I liked what I said and, for the most part, the way I delivered it.
I wonder what will come next???
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Healing Your Brain
In "Heal Your Brain, Heal Your Body" Dr. Amen shows us scans of brains, healthy, alzheimers, smokers, drinkers, meth users, heroin users, etc. He prescribes what it takes to have a healthy brain, and therefore a healthy body. Eat good food, don't drink, don't smoke, limit coffee to 2 cups each day, exercise - wait, isn't that the same thing we have heard everywhere?
Of course, we all want to have the healthy version, but how many of us are willing to do what it takes to get it and keep it that way?
Personally, I like coffee, and drink, now, about two cups a day. Sometimes I drink more, but I have realized, just this year, that if I over indulge I don't sleep.
Oh, and getting enough sleep, that was another big prescription. I would love to get 8 hours sleep, he says 71/2 is the minimum, I usually mange 6 1/2 to 7. I can personally attest that sleep deprivation is not only aging but truly makes you crazy. There were a few years when I had either a child with night terrors - oh yeah, WEEKS with 2-3 hours of sleep each night, or a husband with apnea who snored and Snored and SNORED. I couldn't make decisions, balance my check book, one day I couldn't remember how to sign my name and then I started to have panic attacks - it was amazing to find out that a week away from home with "regular" sleep changed my whole world view - I actually had one.
What would it look like if we all structured our lives to the healthy brain lifestyle? Not only would we individually be healthier, I think our whole society would be improved. When we are healthy and operating from a place of wholeness we have enhanced reaction time and fully functioning thought processors. Our analytical abilities and our capacity for tolerance are stepped up, critical thinking abilities are fully functional. Our ability to care about the situations of others is free to operate.
Imagine a world full of considerate, thoughtful, insightful, tolerant people interacting with each other.
Of course, we all want to have the healthy version, but how many of us are willing to do what it takes to get it and keep it that way?
Personally, I like coffee, and drink, now, about two cups a day. Sometimes I drink more, but I have realized, just this year, that if I over indulge I don't sleep.
Oh, and getting enough sleep, that was another big prescription. I would love to get 8 hours sleep, he says 71/2 is the minimum, I usually mange 6 1/2 to 7. I can personally attest that sleep deprivation is not only aging but truly makes you crazy. There were a few years when I had either a child with night terrors - oh yeah, WEEKS with 2-3 hours of sleep each night, or a husband with apnea who snored and Snored and SNORED. I couldn't make decisions, balance my check book, one day I couldn't remember how to sign my name and then I started to have panic attacks - it was amazing to find out that a week away from home with "regular" sleep changed my whole world view - I actually had one.
What would it look like if we all structured our lives to the healthy brain lifestyle? Not only would we individually be healthier, I think our whole society would be improved. When we are healthy and operating from a place of wholeness we have enhanced reaction time and fully functioning thought processors. Our analytical abilities and our capacity for tolerance are stepped up, critical thinking abilities are fully functional. Our ability to care about the situations of others is free to operate.
Imagine a world full of considerate, thoughtful, insightful, tolerant people interacting with each other.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Catch-up Time
It's been a long time since I sat down with a few minutes to add to this journal. Many, many things have been happening and it has worn me down somewhat. As therapeutic as it is to write, sometimes it's such an effort.
Last week I was too sick to work 4 of the 5 days, well really all 5, but I went in Monday and even though I felt really bad, I was driving the car pool. I haven't spent that much sick leave on myself in years. Even when I had surgery a couple of years ago I missed only 2 work days.
It was weird to be sick, I don't really know how :-) , it started as a cold over a month ago and seemed to be all gone except for the blasted cough, then came roaring back right into bronchial pneumonia. I just felt too crappy to do the usual things I do and wasn't willing to make the effort to go out to get groceries or anything. Also, antibiotics are a trip, they seem to have all sorts of effects on me besides the killing bad bugs part, and mostly put me to sleep. In any event, it looks as though I'm back to the care-taker role as Himself seems to have fallen to the cold/flu that I started with.
Current situation:
Greatly encouraged by national news and the improving condition of Rep. Gifford.
Dismayed by things taking place at work, going back tomorrow to see if I can help prop up some edges.
Happy that things seem to be going so well for Dad, he seems to be steadily recovering more and more of his "regular" routine. Calling later to see how Mom is doing since she to a fall, over his new treadmill, and didn't break anything, but is pretty bruised. It's been very difficult not being able to go see them again.
Still worried about youngest child, there doesn't seem to be any break in her horizon as far as a job goes, and all this news stuff about mental health upsets her no end.
Oldest child is apparently coping, having regular employment, even low end, is very beneficial and his temp job keeps being extended.
I am looking forward to going away next weekend with fellow youth group leaders, it's always a restorative thing to hang out with my friends and compare notes about working with teens. Mark Stanton Welch's wonderful music is a bonus.
There are a few times I would have posted rants here if I'd been home or able to do so from my phone. I have found it gives me a better perspective on my own foibles to write them out. I'll try to remember them long enough to record them articulately.
Last week I was too sick to work 4 of the 5 days, well really all 5, but I went in Monday and even though I felt really bad, I was driving the car pool. I haven't spent that much sick leave on myself in years. Even when I had surgery a couple of years ago I missed only 2 work days.
It was weird to be sick, I don't really know how :-) , it started as a cold over a month ago and seemed to be all gone except for the blasted cough, then came roaring back right into bronchial pneumonia. I just felt too crappy to do the usual things I do and wasn't willing to make the effort to go out to get groceries or anything. Also, antibiotics are a trip, they seem to have all sorts of effects on me besides the killing bad bugs part, and mostly put me to sleep. In any event, it looks as though I'm back to the care-taker role as Himself seems to have fallen to the cold/flu that I started with.
Current situation:
Greatly encouraged by national news and the improving condition of Rep. Gifford.
Dismayed by things taking place at work, going back tomorrow to see if I can help prop up some edges.
Happy that things seem to be going so well for Dad, he seems to be steadily recovering more and more of his "regular" routine. Calling later to see how Mom is doing since she to a fall, over his new treadmill, and didn't break anything, but is pretty bruised. It's been very difficult not being able to go see them again.
Still worried about youngest child, there doesn't seem to be any break in her horizon as far as a job goes, and all this news stuff about mental health upsets her no end.
Oldest child is apparently coping, having regular employment, even low end, is very beneficial and his temp job keeps being extended.
I am looking forward to going away next weekend with fellow youth group leaders, it's always a restorative thing to hang out with my friends and compare notes about working with teens. Mark Stanton Welch's wonderful music is a bonus.
There are a few times I would have posted rants here if I'd been home or able to do so from my phone. I have found it gives me a better perspective on my own foibles to write them out. I'll try to remember them long enough to record them articulately.
Friday, September 17, 2010
A Rant ~ All dogs go to heaven, and so do suicides
Obviously, another controversial thought has wandered through and I am compelled to write something about it.
This is actually the result of two separate posts today: one about dogs going to heaven and the other about the disposition of the souls of people who kill themselves. More, they were both about the mean things people say to the bereaved.
Having experienced the one, because people say things, often thinking they are helping, but without thought, when you lose a pet. And studiously kept the secret of the other, because people would have said mean things. I want to say a few words.
I remember a few years ago a wonderful email went around the spam circuit showing a series of reader board signs, a debate between a evangelical church on one side of the road an a Catholic church on the other. The first was "All Dogs Go To Heaven" on the Catholic church, and then a rebuttal from the other side of the street, and it went on several panels from there.
Of course I have an opinion about that! If my love objects aren't going to heaven, or Heaven, I'm not interested in whatever it is. Maybe it comes from Reading "The Bridge Across Forever" too young and being impressed with radical thought, but I don't think so. To my way of thinking, if love is involved, the Divine, by whatever name, cannot be exclusionary.
Yes, I am aware of the argument about animals not having souls, but having loved and been loved by a series of wonderful beings clad in fur, I cannot agree. A canine can certainly be a finer friend than many people I know. Felines, well they express their loving natures differently and still, better than some human folks. Don't even start me on the equine set (although I've known a couple who behaved like mean girls, but I blamed their humans). I will let you who have reptile and avian friends form your own opinions, but won't exclude any one else's love objects either. I've lived with a bird (corvidea) and have friends who have snakes, but they really aren't my choice for urban spaces. Still, I asert that they go to Heaven, too.
Now for the other subject. I was reading a post about the mean things people said to the parents of a young man who killed himself, as they were leaving the funeral. Seriously "he's in Hell", "his soul will never rest". WTF?? Some people' beliefs are a little frightening.
Suicide has got to be the most difficult thing I can imagine. Just last fall my neighbor lost a child to what may have been suicide, or an accidental overdose (aren't they by definition accidental?). The pain of that loss was so hard to see. In our minds the loss of any child is wrong in the natural order, but the added stigma of it maybe being a suicide?? Just that someone would rather think of their child as a drug user than having taken their own life is so sad.
Many years ago my then boyfriend died in a car accident with his best friend. It was catastrophic and it was impossible to determine who had been driving, let alone what caused the wreck.
For over 25 years I did not tell anyone that it wasn't an accident, he had left me a note. At the time, I could not have given that note to anyone. His parents were devastated as it was. I knew he was a much wanted younger child with a much older sibling, but didn't know until visiting with them weeks afterward that I was the only girl he had ever brought home. How could I add to the tragedy by letting them know he was so unhappy he wanted to die? By their beliefs he would have been consigned to Hell, they would never see him again, and he would have had to be re-interred outside the family cemetery plot ~ outside the whole cemetery.
At the time I was young and confused about a lot of things, but I knew that it would have been cruel to take what little consolation reuniting in an afterlife could be. I have always believed in something, and it was not well defined then, but now I would say it this way ~ all souls return to God, in whatever framework you see IT. To me, the Deity is all encompassing Love, and we are pieces of that, manifesting it to some degree or another in our everyday lives.
God is, God loves, we are as little or as much of that as we can handle expressing at any given time and our furry friends, and the people who can't see that they are also part of that still get to reunite with the totality when they are done on this plane.
This is actually the result of two separate posts today: one about dogs going to heaven and the other about the disposition of the souls of people who kill themselves. More, they were both about the mean things people say to the bereaved.
Having experienced the one, because people say things, often thinking they are helping, but without thought, when you lose a pet. And studiously kept the secret of the other, because people would have said mean things. I want to say a few words.
I remember a few years ago a wonderful email went around the spam circuit showing a series of reader board signs, a debate between a evangelical church on one side of the road an a Catholic church on the other. The first was "All Dogs Go To Heaven" on the Catholic church, and then a rebuttal from the other side of the street, and it went on several panels from there.
Of course I have an opinion about that! If my love objects aren't going to heaven, or Heaven, I'm not interested in whatever it is. Maybe it comes from Reading "The Bridge Across Forever" too young and being impressed with radical thought, but I don't think so. To my way of thinking, if love is involved, the Divine, by whatever name, cannot be exclusionary.
Yes, I am aware of the argument about animals not having souls, but having loved and been loved by a series of wonderful beings clad in fur, I cannot agree. A canine can certainly be a finer friend than many people I know. Felines, well they express their loving natures differently and still, better than some human folks. Don't even start me on the equine set (although I've known a couple who behaved like mean girls, but I blamed their humans). I will let you who have reptile and avian friends form your own opinions, but won't exclude any one else's love objects either. I've lived with a bird (corvidea) and have friends who have snakes, but they really aren't my choice for urban spaces. Still, I asert that they go to Heaven, too.
Now for the other subject. I was reading a post about the mean things people said to the parents of a young man who killed himself, as they were leaving the funeral. Seriously "he's in Hell", "his soul will never rest". WTF?? Some people' beliefs are a little frightening.
Suicide has got to be the most difficult thing I can imagine. Just last fall my neighbor lost a child to what may have been suicide, or an accidental overdose (aren't they by definition accidental?). The pain of that loss was so hard to see. In our minds the loss of any child is wrong in the natural order, but the added stigma of it maybe being a suicide?? Just that someone would rather think of their child as a drug user than having taken their own life is so sad.
Many years ago my then boyfriend died in a car accident with his best friend. It was catastrophic and it was impossible to determine who had been driving, let alone what caused the wreck.
For over 25 years I did not tell anyone that it wasn't an accident, he had left me a note. At the time, I could not have given that note to anyone. His parents were devastated as it was. I knew he was a much wanted younger child with a much older sibling, but didn't know until visiting with them weeks afterward that I was the only girl he had ever brought home. How could I add to the tragedy by letting them know he was so unhappy he wanted to die? By their beliefs he would have been consigned to Hell, they would never see him again, and he would have had to be re-interred outside the family cemetery plot ~ outside the whole cemetery.
At the time I was young and confused about a lot of things, but I knew that it would have been cruel to take what little consolation reuniting in an afterlife could be. I have always believed in something, and it was not well defined then, but now I would say it this way ~ all souls return to God, in whatever framework you see IT. To me, the Deity is all encompassing Love, and we are pieces of that, manifesting it to some degree or another in our everyday lives.
God is, God loves, we are as little or as much of that as we can handle expressing at any given time and our furry friends, and the people who can't see that they are also part of that still get to reunite with the totality when they are done on this plane.
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