Reason NOT to Marry and Older Man

Today I am mad at him.

Not because of anything he said.  He’s always kind.

Not because he did anything awful.  He never does.

Not because he has quirks and foibles.  Everyone does.

I’m mad because he is going to leave me.  He won’t leave me today or tomorrow, probably not for years to come.  But eventually, he will leave.

He will leave because he is much older than I.  He will leave because, statistically, men die at a younger age than women.  He will leave because he is less healthy than I.  He will leave because his father left his mother way too early.  He will leave because he is not immortal.  In all likelihood, he will die, leaving me alone for 20 years or more. 

Every sign of middle age scares me.  Every forgetful moment or repeated story reminds me.  Every aching joint or numb foot, every threat of high blood pressure, every gray hair and every lost hair angers me.  Every birthday pulls us inevitably closer to the day he leaves.    

I can manage all practical matters surrounding his death.  I can ensure adequate life insurance, buy burial plots, make wills and talk about funeral plans.  I can plan to support myself, make arrangements for the disposition of property, pay off my house and get out of debt.  I can develop a relationship with a grief counselor, increase my faith in an afterlife, pray for strength.

There is no way to prepare for the devastating loss of him.  His DVDs will gather dust, his bookmark won’t move, his glasses will sit untouched in the car.  No one will tell me stories late at night or yell at my shoes.  I will have to learn to make perfect pasta al dente and grill a perfect burger myself. 

He sends the children out the door with the words, “Be careful.”  Everyone knows he means, “I love you.”  He never fails, never forgets.  If someone sneaks out without telling him he sends a text message, “Be careful.”  “Come back,” he means, “You are important.  You matter to me.”  After he leaves, “Be careful” will only mean “be careful.” 

He plays devil’s advocate for all political issues, skillfully and convincingly arguing both sides.  He is annoyingly even-handed and fair-minded, willingly discussing the logic on both sides, and calling out the silliness and stupidity.  When he leaves, I will struggle to see the other sides and different points of view.

He teaches.  I’ve always had a thing for teachers.

He carries soda cans all over the house, needs help to match patterned shirts and ties, turns the light on too early in the morning and off too early at night, leaves socks on the floor and dishes in the sink, thinks four is the correct number of shoes to own, and eats sardines in mustard sauce (shudder!).  He ignores my faults and idiosyncrasies as easily as he ignores bugs on the sidewalk, so I am learning to ignore his.

When he leaves, the chair on the other side of the table will be too empty, the couch will be too long, and the bed will be too cold.  My house will suddenly be too big, but the world will become too small. 

I am mad that he will leave me.  I cry when I hear the songs he’s chosen for his funeral, in anticipation of the real funeral.  Some days, my heart breaks for my own loss.  I lie awake at night, listening to him breathe, dreading all the long, silent nights ahead. 

Today is worth tomorrow’s pain.  He is here, he loves me, he is mine.  I will save up all of the todays, and bring them out one at a time during the tomorrows, chasing pain and bringing remembered love.  

Silence

Silence is a rare thing in our modern world.  Music plays in every public space.  Televisions play with no one to watch them “just for the background noise.”  The ubiquitous iPod plays noise continuously in every ear, lest there be a moment of silence anywhere.  I would argue that silence is as precious as it is rare.

            No television presides in my living room.  Or my family room.  No radio, either.  There is a piano, but it will not play itself.  Noise here connects directly to a person—laughing, talking, playing the piano, pages turning.  People can hear each other easily; if I have to raise my voice to be heard, iPods must be turned down or off.  Here one can carry a thought to its logical (or illogical) conclusion. 

            This society looks askance on my choice not to have a television.  “It must be really quiet in your house” people commonly say.  Rarely do they ask what I do with my time.  But to have no background noise?  That’s weird. 

            Perhaps I put myself at a disadvantage.  I cannot concentrate with a lot of background noise; I am easily distracted.  I have no practice in ignoring noise.  But I can concentrate for a long time.  I can spend two solid hours on one task.  Young people seem to be timed to a television schedule: eight minutes before a commercial comes on, eight minutes of concentration.  A junior high school teacher says he must change topics every seven minutes or he starts losing the focus of his class.  He attributes this to television, and the eight minute maximum on any one thought.

            Music in stores and restaurants is designed specifically to discourage careful thought.  Impulse buys, eat and run, spend more money in less time—music manipulates moods and encourages the flow of the almighty dollar.  Of course businesses want to make money, but does that give them the right to manipulate their clients through sound?  Perhaps being aware of this manipulation mitigates some of its effects, but the sound remains.

            Constant and universal sonic input calls for more decibels to be heard over the ambient racket.  More decibels leads to greater damage to cochlea, and hearing loss, leads to a need for more decibels . . . .  Our hearing is damaged by all the noise.  Silence does no damage to the physical ear.

            The silence of meditation, of prayer, nurtures the soul and mind.  Sitting in meditation, quieting the mind and the body, provides a measure of tranquility to carry through life, easing the difficult patches by calming the spirit.  Spaces and silence in lectures or sermons gives a moment for the thought to settle, be remembered, to stick as it were. 

            Silence as a common good or as an experience is essential to the peaceful inner life of people.  Airspace unencumbered by sound waves is hard to come by.  It must be cherished and preserved wherever possible.

Time Capsules

If I were making a time capsule to be opened by my great grandchildren, I would include:

A book (who won last year’s Pulitzer?)

A movie poster (something recent from Hallmark classics)

Heirloom vegetable seeds (even if they won’t grow anymore)

Pictures of my children at their most adorable

Picture of my dogs, all freshly bathed and looking darling

Paint chips that I keep saying I’ll use to decorate my house someday

Transcript of Thomas Monson lecture

Recent issue of Time and/or National Geographic

If my best friend were making the capsule, and she wanted my great grandchildren to know what I’m really like (not what I pretend I’m like), she would include:

A formulaic fantasy novel (which is what I actually read)

Movie poster from “The Avengers” or some other comic book movie (my favorite movies)

Chocolate wrappers (I don’t even eat heirloom vegetables, let alone grow them)

Pictures of my kitchen sink filled with dirty dishes

Pictures of my dogs all lounging on the couch with muddy feet

Clorox wipes, because wiping grape soda off the kitchen chairs is as close as I get to decorating

Transcript of the K-Bull morning show (makes me laugh every morning)

Recent issue of InStyle and/or People StyleWatch

My high heeled hiking boots (yep, I really own such a thing)

Ticket stubs from “Menopause, the Musical” (all women of a certain age must see this show)

I need a more intelligent life, or friends who are better liars.

Not an Endorsement of Any Political Candidate

If Mitt Romney becomes President of the United States, will President Monson become an official spiritual advisor?  This question, at first glance, seems simple.  But the more I think about it, the more complicated it gets.  Here are some things I’ve been thinking about since this question was posed:

The LDS church has been very clear about its political neutrality.  It does not endorse any political party, nor does it reject any political party currently in the USA (I suspect it would decry a political party bent on annihilation of a race of people, but I don’t know that).  The church officially encourages its members to participate in local politics, taking advantage of all opportunities to be heard, including local caucuses, voting, and writing to legislators.  Both the Democrats and the Republicans, according to the LDS church leadership, have good and bad policies, good and bad politicians.  Members are encouraged to prayerfully choose candidates that will do the most good for the community and country.

            Does prayer help in deciding for whom to vote?  I believe that God loves His children as much today as He did in the time of the Old Testament.  He has not abandoned His children to muddle through as best they can.  Revelation can and does continue on Earth today.  Prayers are answered regularly and clearly, even with answers as specific as how to vote in local elections. 

            Revelation is given to those for whom it is relevant.  I will not, for example, be given revelation about how my friend should raise her children.  That is not my jurisdiction, and not my business.  Each person gets revelation that is relevant and important to his or her own life and responsibilities.  Sometimes the answer may be, “It doesn’t matter.  Either choice would be fine.”  Sometimes the Lord has specific direction for a particular situation.

            Based on these beliefs, I think the real spiritual advisor to Mitt Romney, should he become President of the United States, would be God Himself.  It is not President Monson’s responsibility to govern the country.  He has other responsibilities.  But the US President is certainly entitled to revelation pertaining to his job, as is anyone else.

            I believe this is true no matter who is in office.  Any sincere prayer, accompanied by real faith in the power of God to reveal His will, is answered.  The trick is having that real faith, truly believing the answer will come, and then recognizing the answer when it does come.  A person of faith, willing to ask for and accept the guidance of the Lord, may be the best choice for any political office or other position of leadership.  

Chocolate vs. Shoes

Chocolate or Shoes?

Chocolate Pros: best cure for fear (see Harry Potter); good cure for bad days, too; dark is good for your health; easy to grab a candy bar when time is at a premium; Cadbury crème eggs; can be covered in candy so it won’t melt in your hands; don’t have to share it with the dogs; excellent source of cocoa, one of the major food groups; Ghiradelli dark chocolate/raspberry squares.

Chocolate Cons: so hard to stop at the one square that’s actually beneficial to health; calories, calories, calories; the truly good stuff is hard to find; children can sniff out the stash no matter where you hide it; melts in warm environments; even though cocoa comes from a plant, chocolate does not count as a vegetable.

Shoe Pros: happy feet make happy hearts; really fabulous heels inspire confidence; shoe size stays the same no matter how much weight you lose or gain; come in all colors; many styles to choose from; never need ironing; great shoes completely transform a simple jeans/sweater outfit; excellent result of retail therapy.

Shoe Cons: high heels and ballet flats are equally bad for feet; hard to store in large numbers; need to be repaired or replaced alarmingly often; a good fit is hard to find.

Verdict: Obviously chocolate shoes are not the answer.  You can’t wear something that melts, and you can’t eat something that’s been on your feet.  Choosing one or the other is impossible.  One must have both in order to be truly happy.  Luckily, shoe stores are often in malls, where one can also find Mrs. Field’s chocolate chip cookies, Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory fudge, and See’s which gives free samples.  Happy shopping!

Curing "D"eafness and Curing "d"eafness

I have never been deaf—my hearing is reasonably good (although I can’t hear the phone through my right ear, that’s easy enough to compensate for).  I, like most hearing people, was unaware there was a culture associated with  American Sign Language until I started studying the language under non-hearing professors.  Some aspects of this culture are completely foreign to me, even annoying.  For example, why can’t anything EVER start or end on time?  Other things, while different, seem charming.  Friends are greeted with warm hugs, for example.  As I learn the language, I feel more and more comfortable mingling in this unique culture.  This gives me a perspective on this culture unshared by many, neither hearing people who aren’t aware of its existence, nor non-hearing who grew up immersed in it.

A friend asked me if there should be a cure for Deafness, and I had to think about it.  There are two questions here, and I’m not sure even my friend recognized the second, hidden question.

Should there be a cure for deafness?  Well, obviously there should.  It would be lovely if we could cure age-related deafness.  Grandparents should revel in the laughter of their beloved grandchildren.  People who have always found joy in music should not lose that in old age.  We should applaud efforts to cure deafness in late-deafened teens and adults, who grew up hearing and lost that sense due to accident or illness.  In a world where the technology is available, if infant and imperfect, to correct this type of hearing loss, it is silly to expect people to begin again, learning a visual language after serious illness or in extreme old age.  That’s the second question.

The first question, and the one I believe my friend meant to ask, is whether there should be a cure for Deafness.  The capital “D” indicates a cultural affiliation.  In some ways, it’s like asking if there should be a cure for Italian-ness or BibleBeltNess.  No one needs to be cured of their cultural identity.  Differences should be celebrated and embraced, cultures shared and communication facilitated by mutual good humor and patience.

There is technology available now that can offer a semblance of hearing, if it works, and if the patient is willing to do the work to learn to use it.  It is by no means perfect, nor does it work in all cases.  The viral video everyone saw of a woman hearing her children’s voices for the first time was staged—it doesn’t actually work that way.  This technology, called a cochlear implant, is the first prosthetic device that replaces one of the human senses. 

I will probably offend all of my Deaf friends and most of my hearing friends when I say this research should be continued, and this technology should be improved, and should be used.  Until it is closer to perfect, I do not believe children should be implanted unless the child has no residual hearing at all, in either ear, and perhaps also has poor vision. 

Should there be a cure for deafness?  My answer is a resounding, “Yes.”  Should there be a cure for Deafness?  My answer is a qualified, “Maybe.” 

Guest Blogger: Marcus

 Marcus wrote this in 2008.  It's still funny, and relevant, today.

Your cash is gone

Your grades have bombed

Can’t trim your nails nor mow your lawn

Your eyes are red

You look half dead

Never remember what you said

Seem hella old

Can’t breathe in cold

Holy crap, Kid, you smell like mold

Get beat by thugs

Food tastes like bugs

So next time just say no to drugs