37 Years Ago

It seems hard to believe that 37 years have rushed by. Today, 37 years ago, I gave birth to my son and surprisingly, given some of the risky experiences he's had, he's still alive and presumably surviving. At least, I think he is.

Last year, just before Christmas, I turned up at my home in Florida to begin discussions with him about selling it and getting it ready for the market. I intended to share some of the benefits with him because I thought he was taking care of the property.

What I found was a dump. I had been conned, tricked, manipulated and convinced by my son that he was truly managing it by mowing, trimming, taking care of issues - all the things one has to do to keep a home livable. But he was not doing anything.

And he was undoubtably using drugs and alcohol again, totally against our agreement, as I saw garbage strewn from the back door to the street with bottles and other trash.

The grief and anger I felt at that moment was tremendous along with the huge disappointment of discovering what a liar my son had become. It affected my relationship with my boyfriend at the time, who has had years of dealing with ex-cons, and who tried to help me understand what had been going on. But my rage got directed at him and we split up for awhile.

In time, now over six months since that day, I have come to accept that my son is troubled, and that I can no longer fix him. He is an adult who is entitled to make his own choices, which does not include getting help. Many times in the past ten years I have encouraged, cajoled, pleaded, even threatened all to no avail.

But more than that singular event, which was a turning point in my life, there are all the wonderings and wanderings that I have done since then.

As parents (or aunts, uncles or cousins) we see a child growing and have no idea what life choices will be presented or how the path will unfold. And we don't see how we may play a part in that drama  and sometimes because the life is foreshortened the stage is quickly cleared.

It has not been pleasing to see how many peers of my son have not made it to 37. Some have died from being enlisted to fight a war, some fighting wars on home turf, some from despair, some called accidents, and a few were the consequences of a high school celebration gone horribly wrong.

Ten years ago in Everett, WA during SeaFair when things
appeared to be going along better.

So to celebrate this achievement of one child surviving 37 years, I am making a donation to a local fund that provides hope for young men and women to better themselves and to realize their full potential. And I hope there is someone somewhere who is donating to a similar charity that will benefit my son, wherever he may be. And if he should read this, I want him to know that nothing stops a mother's love and prayers for his protection.

The kindness of strangers

For some time I have dealt with crazy, wacky, nutty, strange people in my life. We all do, really. And I wonder if the absurdity of bright lights and pumped up music and all the attempts to hold off the dark of the long nights in December doesn't in some way make things harder?

The day before Solstice, these lights fend off the demon dark
and offer light when, at almost 8 a.m. in the NW, there is little.

Mental illness is defined here as a condition which affects a person's ability to cope and live a normal life. All the disorders that are elements of an individual, when they begin to take over that person's life, become definers of the person, rather than allowing the personality to shine.

The holidays seem to bring added stress and a sense that we must all be a part of the whirligig action that makes up the days between Dec. 15 and January 2.

Depression is not just a temporary state of mind for some people, but a black dog that is waiting around the corner ready to pounce on them, overwhelming their ability to do the simplest tasks.

Today I crossed paths with someone who is usually very upbeat and positive, but he said something that made me realize that we just don't know what challenges the 'holiday season' can bring on.

And then later I witnessed something that gave me renewed hope for our species: an older woman was shopping and when she got to the cashier, realized she didn't have enough money in pocket or on her debit card to pay.  She apologized to the cashier for the trouble she caused by getting things that would have to be put back and started to walk away. Just then a man of about 35 years of age stepped up and said, "I will pay for it all. Merry Christmas." Everyone around was awed and there were tears in the eyes of the woman who clearly did not expect any assistance. I am grateful to have been a witness to this Universal love offering.

Blanche Dubois, a character from Tennessee Williams' play, "A Streetcar Named Desire," (and the movie) continued to dress and act in strange ways as she was trying to live in a world that her mind did not recognize. She said in her final line in the play, as she was being taken into a mental institution, "Whoever you are, I depend on the kindness of strangers."

Williams used the character of Stanley to drive home the point of Blanche's fragility, and to show how insensitive some people are to what is seen as mental weakness, as well as to point out that people in general have the belief that those struggling with mental instabilities are liars.

As a society we've come a long way in the effort to recognize that mental illness really is an illness, and various disorders are elements of mental health. I've not done a very good job understanding all of this. I'm discovering I still have a lot more to learn.

And perhaps there are people who will arrive at the intersection of your life now, this red and green season of lights that may be more confusing than traffic signals. Those folks may not know where they are headed, or how they will get there. Maybe this is the time to be a little more patient, remembering that even as strangers, we all seek a little kindness.

May your holiday be tolerable… if not
bright and cheery, and may you have signs
of hope along the way.