Category: psychology

The other day I was talking with a patient I have known for fifteen years. I don’t see her often. She told me once she felt I was a good check-in four or five times a year to make sure she’s not “crazy”. I told her we all have a little crazy in us, otherwise we’d  die of boredom. We laugh a lot in our time together now and I feel sometimes like I’m visiting a good friend.  I’ve told her she really doesn’t need to see me anymore. She insists she wants to because she trusts I will talk honestly with her. When her doctor referred her fifteen years ago he said he’d never seen a woman in such despair.

Our first visit I learned her husband had died eight months earlier somewhere in Afghanistan, or Syria, or Iran…somewhere in the Middle-East…killed by someone he didn’t know and had never seen before. Killed on a hot, dusty, solid rock mountain on the other side of the world.. Her husband was the first and last person she trusted.  My first words to her were “You look like you are in a lot of pain.” For two hours I listened to her explain her broken heart and spirit.  She sobbed at times and she would wipe her face and smear her tears with her runny nose and mascara. She told me she had grown up in various foster homes.  Her mother died in a car accident when she was two. Her father was so shattered by the loss of his wife he drank himself into a stupor every night and had no idea how to raise a 2-year-old baby girl. They had no other family to help him. Eventually he lost his job and killed himself on the same day she turned eight. She was playing outside when he put the gun to his head. She heard the noise and was too afraid to go back into the house. Eventually, when darkness came to chill the air, she ran to a neighbor’s house. They called 911 and my friend was taken into the foster care system that night.

As you can imagine, she had a very lonely and chilly childhood.  She said she turned her feelings off when she became aware at around five years old that she was too much for her father. Says she knew he killed himself because she cried too much and was too emotional. She eventually aged out of the system at 18, got a job and an apartment and went on with her lonely existence. She had some money from an inheritance from her father and social security from her mother. She worked as a secretary and took night classes and eventually became an elementary school teacher. She told me she walked through most of her early life rigid with grief. She kept to herself as much as possible. Sometimes the kids in her class would make her laugh or smile, but not very often. She lived a quiet life.

Then, He walked into her life in the middle of an educational psychology class.  The class was half over. Every student was required to give a presentation relating to educational psychology. Her topic was “The Developmental Needs of an Infant or Toddler”.  She walked to the front of the class and began her presentation. Somewhere in the middle she claimed that “it is essential to the very existence of the child that her relational needs be met by the adults in her life”.  He raised his hand and asked, “Why? What happens if the child’s basic relational needs aren’t met?”She said he had the least aggressive manner of speaking and she stumbled and froze and could not answer for what seemed like hours.  Then she blurted out, “The children will never learn to trust.”  “Never?” he asked.  “Never.” she answered. She then left the classroom, mid-speech. She collapsed on a cold, stone bench behind the classroom, put her face in her hands and cried so hard she couldn’t breathe. When he asked that question ,that day in class, she heard her voice for the first time reply “Never” and knew it was she and it was true.

But this isn’t a romance novel. It’s about how we, as individuals are put on this earth to make and learn from relationships. And it is never too late! Our relationships are the way we learn to love and trust ourselves… and love and trust others.  We are hurt in relationships.  Our hearts are broken. We argue and learn how to resolve differences. We learn to listen-really listen to others. We learn about fairness and anger and what to do with it. We learn how to feel the feelings and move on when we need to move on. We learn love, disappointment, laughter and sorrow in relationships. And Oh so much more!

My friend is fine. She has learned how cruel the world can be and how wonderful.  She has never re-married, but she has loved and been loved  by many wonderful people.  She has worked very hard so that today she can feel all of her feelings. She still teaches, and loves her children. She has wonderful friends and swears life has given her more than it has taken. And, she has learned to trust her instincts and experiences enough to know when to let go. She trusts and loves herself. #ME TOO.

 

 

What Oprah had from her very first exposure to us–in the Phil Donahue/ Sarah Jessie Raphael days–was a ravishing hunger. She was driven to find answers for her questions. I imagine there were times she was uncomfortable with being at the helm of our ship. Maybe afraid even. She is human after all. And she had the courage to persevere  straight through the fear in persuit of her next truth. Which would lead to her next truth, and her next. Figuring truth out with each breakthrough. And we watched her wisdom grow, and we watched it change her, enrich her and we watched her reach higher with every insight she collected along the way. She interviewed Zen Masters and Writers of great novels, and ordinary people along the way. She surrounded herself with people from whom she could learn and  she invited us along on her journey. She began this journey with her-private-story, and in following her journey to enlightenment, we began to find our journey and our truth and our voice…and we discovered we were hungry for authenticity and Oprah validated us. She gave us permission to make mistakes- big ones- and still value ourselves. To trust our intuition and develop our power and say “No” and mean it and “yes” and mean it. She taught us to speak our truth about  abuse and the violence of our childhood without allowing the shame. She taught us we do not have to be victims of our history, we can get help and do our work -She asked us to understand we can survive and even thrive if we find a great friend or a good therapist and do the necessary work. -We began to place the blame and shame on the perpetrators and take back our life and reclaim our voices and learn to make better choices. Oprah brought all of this to center-stage for all to see, and she invited us to witness it…and we all in varying degrees became wiser for it!   She is a spectacular role-model. I have been with her every step of the way–never wavering in my admiration. Oprah inspires us and challenges us to be our best self. So when she gave her speech upon receiving the Cecil B DeMille Humanitarian award at Hollywoods Golden Globes, she spoke to every single person listening directly to their hearts. she was nothing less than perfect.      Time is up. We will not be dismissed ar disrespected. Whether we’re talking sexism, racism, violence, verbal abuse, sexual abuseor or any kind of disrespect! We. Will. Not. tolerare.anymore!  NO MORE. WE WILL TELL. WE WILL CALL IT OUT.

I love Oprah , she inspires me to be my best!  The World is better because she is here..

I do not want her to run for President.. We are being greedy and I cannot bare to watch that destruction.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Everyone agreed that Houston was a brilliant thinker and an excellent lawyer, but some people worried that he lacked the milk of human kindness.”

I drove everyone nuts with my new mantra over the summer. I recently read it somewhere on the Web and it struck a chord with me. My sister and I argue about it often because she believes it is not true…and of course, I believe it is true, more often than not. Here it is,

“HONESTY WITHOUT KINDNESS IS BRUTALITY”

Just stop for a minute and think about it in the context of our current political and environmental state. Or perhaps you might consider how it might apply in your current relationships. It reminds me of the “Golden Rule” which I believe beats “The Ten Commandments” all to hell and back- no pun intended! I believe it says, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” And that’s just it. If you want to have human discourse with me, don’t yell at me and put me down or call me names. Just talk with me as if you wanted me to hear you and I will reply to you in the same tone. Because that’s what happens. If you speak to me harshly or unkindly, chances are good I will reply defensively or harshly or unkindly and where does that leave us? Not such a good place?

If I want to relate with someone I care about, someone I want to hear what I am feeling as well as what I am saying, I believe I have to find a way to let them know I care about them and want to hear what they have to say. Even if they strongly disagree with what I have to say, they must not dismiss it, or in doing so they will be dismissing me. Human discourse allows for difference. We both matter and especially when we disagree. So I want to listen when you are talking to me. You can’t not be listening to me and instead be building a case to obliterate my opinion. In essence, you are telling me you don’t believe I have the same rights as you….or I am not as smart as you…or you don’t care about me. Maybe telling you what I have to say is extremely difficult because I know you won’t agree. I know if I can find a way to say it so that I don’t feel lessened or dismissed or belittled. If in the asking I can hear you as you disagree and feel heard BY you. Then the possible conflict or dis-connect is avoided and I WILL hear you. We may never agree, but we do not have to lose one another.

How many times have you heard or said “I’m only telling you the truth” as if “the truth” were not about perspective and context?  I know personally there are times I believe I am “right”, or what I believe is “true” and I have been wrong.  Usually about dates and times. But at that moment I believe I am “right”.  If I believe I am right I am likely to tell you that you are wrong, and you believe you are “right”.  “I haven’t made a mistake, you have!”  What is so wrong about making a mistake.  We can admit it and go on. We are all human and subject to error. Unless we do not believe we can afford to make mistakes because to do so would shatter our ego.

Think about your history. Deal with and heal the dysfunction of your childhood. Only then will you be able to engage in human discourse with human kindness. Otherwise our old, anachronistic feelings will get in the way of listening to any kind of difference without feeling dismissed or less-than or criticised. If “I am a mistake” I can’t afford to “make a mistake” so any criticism you give me will be devistating and I will be unable to hear you. That is the “brutal” end of my newfound mantra. When I am unhealed I feel continuously vulnerable, as if I were present in all of my relationships as a small, vunerable and wounded child waiting to be told, once again, how little I know…how little my opinion matters.  It is my job to heal so that I can hear you, too and not just the ghosts of the past. Then together we can create connections and relationships with one another as healthy adults.

Actually, when my sister and I were discussing my new mantra, when I told her the words, she said something like, “I’m not so sure that it’s true”.  So,  I didn’t get what I wanted which was “that’s brilliant” and I regressed to my five year old who is never heard or seen and became arrogantly defensive.  Downhill from there!

I know about the humility and brutality many parents present to their children because they are not healed themselves.  I was the middle of five children growing up in the 40’s and 50’s in a functionally violent, alcoholic family.  I knew how to hide. I was an expert. I could fit myself into any little corner of a room and disappear into the cracks in the wall. I felt as if no one heard nor saw me. Not until I many years later, after I worked hard to heal my past and became who I am today. I knew at age 15 I did not want to recreate my past!  I like who I am today. I am more open, flexable and kind.

I want to find a way to help create more Kindness in the world.  I want to promote more Kindness in the world.  Human connection leads to better health.  Human Kindness leads to better connections. Ergo, if Human Kindness leads to better connections and better connections leads to better health it just makes sense that relationships and connections will make this a better world!

In our present world of chaos, hurricanes and political unreast, an act of human kindness can be heroic!  To quote Jim Henson, “Understanding other points of view keeps you fresh. You can look at the same thing one way forever and it never seems to change. Then someone comes in and turns it upside down or inside out and suddenly, together, you’ve made something amazing.”

My sister Katy has always been the primary tour guide for our family, and I have loved that because it gave me plenty of time for having fun any way I could. It is also true that Katy does a great job of organizing our sometimes chaotic and always diverse family group.
“Hi! I’m Dianne, Katy’s not so organized sister”
Katy had a little stomach upset for this phase of our family trip, so I will do my best to cover it. Just know the perspective has changed. We are now in my favorite part of the world, the Ocala National Forest in Wakulla County where the wildlife is abundant and Florida is at it’s best. We stayed at the old Lodge on the Wakulla River, built by Ed Ball, the inventor of canning jars, and what a nostalgic walk into Florida and the Harrell family past. This is old Florida swamp land complete with all the Tarzan movie sounds and sights. An end of day hike through these grounds could end with the trembling growl of a bull gator if you aren’t paying attention.

This is the only section of river in the state that is closed off to boat traffic. Consequently the gators, exotic birds and plants thrive here. The Lodge also runs a fleet of boats in this part of the river, so the public can enjoy and fool themselves into believing they are safe. It is designated a state park and is pretty much unspoiled. The grounds are also home to one of the most productive springs in the world, Wakulla Springs. The origin of this spring has never been found so, as you can imagine, it is a favorite destination for cave divers around the world.

This was the highlight of the trip for me and I sometimes think the mystery of life is found most clearly here in these sparkling waters.
We went swimming in the clear river water (the swimming area is clearly marked by ropes so the gators and moccasins will know not to come where we are!). Some of us dove from the 30 foot tower built long ago over the spring. We could have had a problem when the teens took our three yr old niece to the top of the dive tower, and forgot she was with them. They all jumped into the spring, and surfaced to see little Kellan, arms spread, leaping and screaming “YOLO!”… her favorite cartoon quote on the trip -meaning you only live once. She descended the thirty foot drop into Wakula Spring with nothing but plastic water wings built into her bathing suit to keep her alive. She bounced right up laughing and yelling “YOLO”.

We ate in the elegant dining room our mother loved, and explored once again a part of Florida where nothing much had changed. The memories were flooding us all.

While most of us were staying at our beloved Lodge at night, we all converged on Bessie and Jessie for a good ole’ Florida cracker fish dinner and gathering one late afternoon, and it was goooooood! Three huge, whole, broiled grouper, seasoned to perfection…caught just that day by Uncle Roy with all the trimmings!

The story is a gator came out of the river after our grand niece and nephew in July. The kids were jumping off a dock into the river then running out of the water and doing it again & again, when a big gator came out of the river, onto the dock between the children and their Dad until, luckily, a neighbor came out and shot the aggressive gator. When we went to their home for dinner, the kids were back into their swimming ritual on this same dock on the river. There’s absolutely no accounting for our family’s whatever you want to call it…courage or foolhardiness.

This segment would not be complete without mentioning that BC and Roy have recently bought sixteen acres in Wakulla County around their own spring, and it is beautiful. They plan to build a home there. We all went out to welcome the property into the family on the West Coast of Florida. I understand that it is connected by underground tunnels to the Wakulla Springs!

And so the summer family story goes on and on, and I will stop ‘cause Katy and I are both now at home on our respective sides of the continent planning for next summer’s road trip! And besides, this is my sister’s blog.
—Dianne Moore 8/27/17

Stay tuned for the Outer Banks, Frozen Cappuccino addiction, and back home.

We got up early on the 29th of June because we had a date to swim with the Manatees in Crystal River at 10:00. Greg drove his rental with Kelly, Jakes and Lindsey riding along with him. Di and I followed him in through all the little towns and never got lost–  and we were traveling at quite a clip. I was excited about the Manatees and curious.   As children we knew the Manatee as “Sea Cows” in the St. Johns River. It was exciting to come upon a pod of manatees in the river. They were mythological and glorious in their grandeur and we didn’t know much about them other than the myth of the sirens who sang Jason to the rocks in his pursuit of the Golden Fleece.  Other’s thought them to be mermaids.  They were munching on river grasses and came up for air once or twice and that was the only time we would see them. They have relatively small heads and noses, and I had never see the entirely of the manatees’ body!  I was a bit afraid of the size of the manatee – they are huge mammals without any natural enemies.They grow from small newborns to 2 to 3 tons in weight and 12 to 20 feet in length.  We were excited out of our minds at the prospect of swimming with them!  Paradoxically, I was a tiny bit uncomfortable with the idea of invading their space. There is a spiritual feeling for me that accompanies getting close to the splendid grandeur of Mother Nature–in any form, whether a beautiful sunset, the roar of the ocean, or a peacful summer rain. Essentially I feel awe and I am honored to share in the beauty of nature, and this was one of those times. Respect nature and do no harm.

Once we arrived at Crystal river we were invited to watch a short file about the rules and process of swimming with the manatees.  We were not to approach them in any way. Dead man’s float is the rule if they are approaching you. The guides were excited because they heard there was a pod just a short distance away that included a mother and her baby.  You can not reach to touch them, but if  you are lucky they will slide their body by you– if you are still and not aggressive.  (Still we saw one man chasing a manatee like a jerk. Our guide warned the jerk it was  against the law and the guides made him get out of the water.)  Greg, Lindsey, Jakes, Di and I were lucky and the manatees were amazing. Especially as their bodies slowly swam into your view.  Because I was snorkeling and the water was murky, it was my singular experience, as if the manatee would magically emerge from the depths and appear right in front of my face.  It was  awesome.  We stayed out on the boat or in the water for 3 hours. A truly amazing experience we all agreed.

When we changed back into our clothes and left for the 3 1/2 hour ride north to Wakulla we were all pretty exhausted.  We stopped at Subway and grabbed a bite then drove through afternoon thunderstorms and beautiful countryside till we arrived at Wakulla Springs State Park at about 5pm.  We checked in to the Ed Ball Lodge and headed for our rooms for a rest and to clean up for dinner and watch for the panhandle portion of our family to arrive.  Soon enough my younger sister BC and Roy showed up with her daughter Bessie, her husband Jessie, grandson Jackson,6,  and granddaughter Kellan,3, and we began another portion of our Fabulous month long Road Trip.

Stay tuned for alligators, sink-holes, diving towers, and

 

Road Trip…3

July 24, 2017

I realize that a few of you may have been offended by my ending of the last blog. I’m overly fond of what Gloria Steinem said, “If you haven’t been called a bitch by the time you are 30, you aren’t trying hard enough”. Anyway it would likely be good to consider that conflict and difference of opinion are quite common in families, and often about religion in particular. In my own family my older brother, Buddy, reported to be an atheist at a young age. I believe he was more of a pantheist by the end of his life. My older sister argues about everything and she goes to Bible study and church four or five times a year. I believe she is more of a biblical theologian than anything else. I believe in God. I do not like the rigid judgmentalism of organized religion- the ostracism of whole groups of people because of who they love and how they love. The racism that was so endemic in the southern religious communities in the south. The refusal of organized religion to consider anything different from church doctrine offends me. Their dogma ran over my karma, as the old bumper sticker used to say. My younger brother, David and sister Rosie are Christians whom I respect and admire, as is my youngest sister, BC. The conversation reminds me of an old joke, where Jesus and the devil were walking together in the garden. Jesus sees a scrap of paper on the side of the path that appears to be a list. He picks it up and reads the word “religion” out loud. The devil tears it out of Jesus’s hand and says, “Give that to me, I’ll organize it!

So that is that and I make no apologies for it. However, I was unkind to my cousin Judy, and I do apologize to her. I have a new mantra,  Honesty without kindness is brutality.

As I think I stated earlier some of us eventually had to go back and forth from the beach to my hometown of Palatka, Florida,. (The name Palatka comes from the Seminole for “cow Paddy”) It sits on the banks of the St. Johns River about 20 miles inland from St. Augustine. The main street has seen better days, but the people are mostly sweet and kind and fond of fishing. We arrived just in time to see David’s grandson, Syler, win a bass fishing Championship for the State of Florida in his 10- year-old age group. He was grinning from ear to ear as he stood at the city docks to receive his trophy. We then headed to Corky Bells Fish Camp to celebrate. We were blessed during dinner with a good old-fashioned Florida frog- strangler, otherwise known as a thunderstorm! Judy showed up and couldn’t find us, so I jumped in a car and drove 500 ft. to McDonalds to lead her to Corky Bells After stuffing ourselves with fried fish and hush puppies we headed to River Road where David and Rosie’s home is nestled among the old live oaks filled with Spanish moss.

News Flash! We crammed so many activities into our three and one-half days I cannot get the order of events straight. So, I’m just going to take the liberty of cramming in all into what ever space I can find.

One of the crazy days going back and forth to Palatka, we went to the best fish fry I have ever attended at Kelley and Cliff’s barn. They’d built a huge boat garage and off to one side they made a bar and kitchen outside. They installed a fryer for all the fish Cliff brings home. Cliff Prince is in the top 100 bass fishermen in the world. It is an international competition and he makes a nice wallet of winnings. Kelley and the kids follow him around as his groupies when he competes and they say a lot of fishy prayers. It’s a given that Syler follows him everywhere, but so does their beautiful daughter, Gracie! Cliff is a real celebrity. All the cousins were at the fish fry and afterwards did some skeet shooting. They had a blast. They were all sun burned from the beach, and Jakes was jet-lagged from just getting home from his school trip to Spain. Needless to say they were exhausted. Now Syler is a champion fisherman at 10, and Rosie just called to tell me Gracie is fourth in the world in Archery in her age group. What an amazing family!!!

Also, I forgot to tell you that after the fish fry we ALL went with Jennifer to YOGA class in Palatka. All of us including David, Rosie, Dianne, Logan, Chrissie, Mia, Jennifer, Kelley P, Gracie, Kelly S, Jakes, Lindsey, Syler, Greg, and me. We made up the entire class- though some were more active than others! The Yoga instructor was great. Cousin Judy also was there, but decided not to push fate and participate. And to celebrate our perfect Yoga class, we all went out for ice cream! Make sense out of that?

Oh, and one dau we went to lunch and ran into Jo Carol Meltzer! Didn’t recognize her. Brought back bunches of uncomfortable memories. Ah well.

Oh, and that morning, or one of the mornings, , Leigh Trescot brought her mom, Nancy to visit for a few minutes. Nancy lost the love of her life, Jack. He lived spryly into his 90’s, I don’t think Nancy is doing very well. She is as beautiful as ever and loves to see all of us-and we her, Hugs went all around—but she looks pretty frail. Nancy is in her 80’s. It is so damn hard losing all these wonderful people who so mightily influenced our lives just by their presence. Nancy was definitely one of those (along with Phyllis DeGuerre.). Nancy stayed to visit about 30 minutes or so, then she and Leigh left with many hugs and kind words.

Shortly after Nancy left, my son Greg showed up and we all greeted him with great enthusiasm. We said goodbye to Judy as she headed over to the beach so she wouldn’t have to get on the road so early in the morning. She was headed back to Atlanta with our love and devotion and prayers for Aunt Bunny and Gene.

We were leaving the next morning to cross the state to the Gulf for Chrystal River and Wakulla, so it wasn’t long before we bedded down for the night.

 

Next edition the saga continues : Swimming with the Manatee and Wakulla!!!

Did I mention? Rosie and David’s girls have four children in various srages of teen and adolescent years. They were all at Summer Haven too. We arrived there June 24th and the next day I drove to Jacksonville airport and picked up Kelly, my daughter-in-law, and my two grandchildren, Jakes and Lindsey.  I really had to pee and there was no where to go.  I knew this was a disaster waiting to hahppen. There appeared to be no one in the lot so I opened two doors on one side against an empty car, quickly pulled down my pants and peed, and what do you know, the guy in the car next to me came up to get in his car. I quickly finished and pulled up my panties, we smiled at each other and he drove off. I felt so much better I didn’t even care.

The cousins were all delighted to see one another. Also, my cousin Judy Grosvenor, who had just lost her Mom and brother within the last three weeks, (which means I should be kinder to her), drove from Atlanta to Summer Haven to celebrate with us all. That made for 16 people, at least, 16 people were staying in the house. If it hadn’t been for the expert hearding skills of Rosie, somebody would have slept on the floor. So half of us went back and forth  to Palatka and the other half stayed at the beach. We had great fun playing in the water–once we old folk got out past the undertow and could stand up without help! How to feel old in 30 seconds or less!
Jennifer cooked 3 kinds of fish in 3 different ways…one of which was African Pompanno. It was all delicious. I made a banana pudding and Rosie made slaw., while Dianne sat on the poarch doing nothinng but holding court. The first day, Jennifer made some Minorcan Clam Chowder for anyoone who wanted to snack. Anyway, food was plentiful and the weather was fabulous.

The kids, on the second night, went into town on their own and Jakes was given the keys to David and Rosie’s Lincoln SUV that seats eight. He was delighted as he had his license for all of 6 months and he was careful. The kids really enjoyed each other.

My cousin Judy, Diannne, Rosie and I were sitting on the porch rocking and talking. Judy and Rosie are the more fundamental Christians . Dianne and I are not. Judy asked me to cancel her reservation in Wakulla (our next destination) because she needed to get back home for her mother’s memorial service. I told her I would, and Judy is a bit of aa talker so she kept telling me to call and cancel and I told her I was doing it online. She said she would prefer I call and she kept talkng. I was cancelling her reservation and talking with Rosie about something, and Judy kept talking over me so I kinda lost it and told her “G…dammit! If you want to do it then do it but shut up talking. She then informed me that I was going to hell for taking the Lords’ name in vein. I Told her to shut-up and she was wrong. I was not going to hell and I didn’t believe in hell. I don’t even worry about hell. I told her my God is generous and kind and doesn’t send peoplle to burn to death in hell! How can anyone believe that! Well, we got into a long discussion on the meaning/metaphoric or otherwise of the Bible as God’s word. Di and I upset our more fundamental relatives most of the time when we get together. The Bible is a nice book. Families are nice places to disagree and still get back to loving.

Thursday/ June 23, 2017
Road Trip
Entry 1 from a series of 6.

Temperature is up from 117 in Vegas, so I called my sister, Dianne, to take a road trip. She is up for it. I hopped a flight to Charlotte, and here we are barreling down I77 to Florida to meet David and Rosie at Bud’s old beach
house at Matanzas Inlet where we all spent many happy days of our childhood.

I thought it might be fun to take you along with me, especially since our car trips often turn into Uncle Wiggley adventuress. In the interest of simplicity I will introduce the players in the order they appear.

We’ll begin with my older sister, Dianne, who was born thirteen months before I got here. She is my closest, best friend and for good or for ill we know just about everything about each other. That means we fight like we might kill each other and, so far, eventually get back to loving.

There will be one sibling who won’t make an appearance. Our precious older brother who was so sensitive to the cruelties of life, killed himself about eight years ago. It wasn’t much of a shock since his entire life led him to that point. He had a horrible accident with a chemistry set and very badly burned himself when he was fifteen and was wrapped in gauze from head to toe for six to nine months. He was in excruciating pain. This was back in the 50’s, and he was on hospital narcotics for a very long time- the beginning of his end.

So, anyway, we’re driving to Summer Haven to meet with the family. We head with delicious anticipation to the Florida/Georgia line looking for The Georgia Pig as our first stop. Oh No!!! The world- famous roadside barbecue stand is gone!! Best pulled-pork in the South, served with slaw and beans or chips. It is with great grief we pull back on the highway headed for Savannah. We don’t know where exactly, but both of us are sure we will find another unique and memorable, new favorite barbecue in Savannah.

We took the second Savannah exit off the freeway and drove straight into Tripp’s in an old corner gas station deep in the heart of Savannah. A group of beautiful mahogany men and women, and one old, befuddled white guy. He was cackling as he circled the ladies who were sitting in the shade cooling themselves with church fans. We left 30 minutes later with enough barbecue to feed half-a-dozen people and good enough to leave them moaning for more.

Back on the highway, driving while distracted eating ribs and chicken and headed straight to Crescent Beach and Summer Haven where the Atlantic Ocean roared into our hearts so many summers ago. Arguably the most beautiful meeting of the sea and sand in the universe. Hyperbole aside, it is my vision of the powerful God of my youth. At times peaceful, warm and seductive. At times angry, dangerous and all consuming . This is the place where the meaning of family fell apart and came together again. The big wrap-around porch with the rockers lined up and the hammock hung on the corner. Many a sunrise was met in that hammock. Hurricanes and storms and racing to shut the shutters and batten the house down before the storms arrived. Many a drama played out within those walls…

David, my younger brother by two years, met us at the top of the stairs of the A1A house in Matansas. It was so good to see him. My heart is always warmed when I see his face and kiss his cheek. My sister Rosie too, who was the “girl next door” until they married after they were graduated from the University of Florida in 1966 or so. They fill my heart right up with love and peace. Together they created three fabulous women, Jennifer, Chrissy and Kelly, all of whom are there to greet us! Yea, Family!

A small rant about family:
Families are fantastic for reminding you of your limits. They will love you unerringly and then toss you about picking at and pointing out your faults.
Everybody comes from somewhere and someone. As Robert Frost said, “Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.”

When we come together life happens then in predictable stages.

Beginnning: How great to see you. You look wonderful. How’s the kids?

Middle: You voted for that ass? You always were crazy. I love you but you’re nuts.

End: I love you so much. I’ll miss you terribly. Come see me in Vegas!

Families bring out the best and worst of us. and like it or not we all come with one.

To Be Continued …..I apologize for the lapse of time between this entry and the last.

 

My wonderful, young cousin, Gene Gregory, just died.  I live in Nevada and he lived in Florida so I didn’t get to see him before he was gone. But I talked with him on the phone about his cancer and how he felt about dying. He told me he wasn’t worried too much about it but he hated the fact that he wouldn’t be around to see how everything turns out.

Gene was a curmudgeon. He had no filter from his brain to his words so if you asked his opinion on anything you got it. His passions went from love to hate, depending on what you asked him. He did not suffer fools gladly.  If he thought it, he said it. And he was one of the funniest and dearest people I have ever known.  He was rough, but if he loved you he did so with a passion.  My mother was an example of someone he loved – partly because they’d drink a case of beer together whenever he dropped by.  Partly because they were a great deal alike in their lack of a filter. They’d be sitting at the round coffee table at the beach raving-on about politics, people and personal issues.  Gene would defend Mama when we would complain about her drinking. He’d say “She likes her beer. What’s wrong with that?” By that time, he had a point.

Gene’s great passion was deep sea fishing. Oh my gosh, he could find Sailfish in the sea. He could find all kind of fish and he entered tournaments and won prizes and his smile was as wide as the sky. Many a picture I have seen with Gene and his catch with that smile plastered on his face. Then he’d take them home and serve a banquet of the finest fish you ever tasted.

Gene was funny. He spent all of his time when we were very young children being the clown and making us all laugh till we couldn’t breathe.

He had one son and he loved Jesse with the greatest passion of his life. Jessie woould go fishing with his dad. I met Jesse just once, but I was impressed with his love for his father- genuine and deep. I think Jesse will be like Gene in his love of the sea.

I think Gene was still married to Linda when he died. And if he was she would have been right there by his side, loving him in spite of himself.  Linda is a very patient woman. Gene was lucky.

Gene’s mother, my Aunt Bunny, is still alive in her late 90’s, and I hear from her daughter Judy Grovesner she is not doing well and is in Hospice care.  She’s in her mid to late 90’s.  She’s probably waiting for Gene to get there (wherever) and get the place ready for her and then she’ll let go too.

These are all people I love very much. Isn’t it funny that the loves we grow up with stay with us forever even if we don’t see them as often when we’re older.  Judy, Gene, Aunt Bunny and Uncle Jack.  Part of me is definately due to their wonderful influence.

A light has gone out in my world and I will miss him.  I hope Gene likes where he is now so much that he won’t even worry how it all turned out!