A Delightful Twist of Fate

Today is my last day as an Emerywood Baptist Deacon; my last day as chair was December 17th when the new officers were elected. The deacons gave me a gift card to Outback Steakhouse as a thank you for my service.

I don’t eat at Outback often, and when I do, I typically go to the one here in High Point, or the one on Wendover Avenue in Greensboro. However, I was meeting my friend Cathy, and she was coming from visiting her mom, so we decided on the Outback along Westover Terrace. It has literally been decades since I’ve been to this particular restaurant.

I arrived before Cathy, and got seated; the waitress came to get my drink order. We looked at each other, and she said she recognized me. I started to say, “Did you go to…” and before I could get Northwood Elementary out of my mouth, she said it. Then she said, “Mrs. Hatcher?!”

This lovely young woman was a former student, all grown up and working now. She’s a first class waitress, too. When it came time for the bill, Alicia told me that she’d taken care of it. She said I could use the gift card next time. She also told me that I was a favorite teacher of hers, along with her kindergarten teacher. It’s moments like this that make me happy to have been a teacher/media specialist.

I’ve been reflecting on all the things that had to happen to make me be in that Outback on that day at that time. First, I was given a gift card to a restaurant at which I eat infrequently. Second, I made plans to meet my friend Cathy for lunch, and because I had that gift card, I suggested that restaurant. Third, Cathy planned a visit to see her mom who lives out Lawndale, so we chose that particular restaurant. Otherwise, we probably would have met at the one on Wendover which is a little closer to our houses. I’m glad the fates steered us to that particular restaurant. It was a delightful twist of fate.

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

I’m having trouble connecting to my usual Christmas spirit this year. Usually my tree goes up the day after Thanksgiving, and there are decorations all over my living room, dining room, kitchen area. This year it was December before I got a single decoration up. For a while, it was just outside decorations, the wreath and the garden flag. Then I added the small tree on my mantle that has the mittens my sister and I crocheted, and Christmas pictures scrolling through my Skylight digital frame.

A few days ago, I got my big tree up. I didn’t put any decorations on it, but I’ve been enjoying the lights. I have a small ceramic tree up too. Today I added the angel my sister crocheted to the top of my big tree, and the 4 carolers that my aunts Louise and Helen used to put out are on the mantle. My brother Bill inherited them when he bought their house, and now I have them. However, I think I am done now. That’s as much as I have the spirit for.

See, my brother Bill died in September. I had spoken with him just a few days before. He had plans to sell the house, and go to assisted living. He’d even picked out his room. I hate that he died at home alone, but I also know his health wasn’t good. So it was something of a surprise, but also not completely unexpected.

December also always brings me memories of Dana’s terminal cancer diagnosis, his going to Hospice House, and his death. This is the week that those last two things happened seven years ago. So I haven’t been feeling the Christmas spirit this year, and I’ve decided that’s okay.

I know Christmas can be a very joyful time of year, but I also know that many people struggle this time of year. So I decided that I would just have a low key Christmas this year, a merry little Christmas. I’m not going to push myself to do anything that feels too overwhelming. That means I probably won’t be baking any cookies this year, and my decorating is basically done. I’ll watch the Christmas movies, and listen to the carols, but I’m not going to push myself to celebrate big. So far, it’s working for me.

Do Not Pray in Public

I read with disbelief the Supreme Court decision in Kennedy vs. Bremerton School District this week. Well, considering the religious fanaticism currently running the Supreme Court, perhaps it was more horror than disbelief. This decision has certainly opened up some questions. Could a Muslim, Hindu, or Jewish coach stand on the field praying, and bring students out to pray with him? My guess is those who are applauding this decision would be horrified if any religion other than Christianity did such a thing. And therein lies the problem.

Our Constitution grants us the right to religious freedom, but it also grants us the right to not practice any religion. The religious right has yet to understand that we don’t actually have a national religion because of this. Nor should we.

A visiting pastor at my church once compared the United States to a gumbo. It’s much more apt than the idea of the melting pot. In a melting pot, everything becomes so blended that you cannot distinguish one ingredient from another. Yet in a gumbo, we can see the individual pieces, and we know that if we leave out any one ingredient, the gumbo will not turn out; it will not have the flavor we want. Every ingredient in the gumbo adds its own unique flavor without giving up its individuality. But I’m sure you are asking yourself what any of this has to do with praying on the 50-yard line.

Well, let me tell you a story. I am a retired teacher. At one point, we had a principal brought in from New Orleans, after the hurricane left the city flooded and devastated. One day, this principal gathered us together at a staff meeting, and she prayed. Out loud. I am Christian, but I was extremely uncomfortable with what was happening here at a public school staff meeting. I also knew there was at least one atheist on our staff; she’s a close friend of mine. All of us, adults though we were, felt compelled to stand through this prayer.

Now picture a group of teens, who already feel the need to fit in. Picture them standing up to the coach who has “invited” them to join him in prayer. If a group of adults had a difficult time refusing, think how much more difficult it would be for a teenager to do so.

I have prayed many times while at school, but I always did it silently or when I was alone. I never kneeled. No one else would ever really know I was praying. It was just between me and God. I never invited students to join me in prayer. To me prayer is personal. Jesus said so in Matthew 6, verses 5-6. If I consider myself Christian, I should be trying to follow Jesus’s example.

⁵ “And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. ⁶ But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.”

Oh, as for that principal- I reported her to our superintendent. She wasn’t a principal in our system for very long after that, and trust me. That’s a good thing.

Voting Against

It’s Primary Day, and I voted. Usually I come out after voting with a big smile and great hopes for my candidate. Today was different. Today I voted against candidates instead of for them, and that has a totally different feel.

I have lived in my city for 17 years now, but 5 years ago, I moved to a corner of the city that’s in a different county. I was living in a more purple county, but now I’m living in a deeply red one. I registered unaffiliated when I moved, which means I can choose which primary to vote. The first time I voted in a primary while living at this address, there was ONE race on the Democratic ballot. I had no bad choices, but I favored one candidate slightly over the other. Today was a similar story; there was one race on the Democratic ballot. I had already figured out that my candidate would win that race. Her only real competition had chosen to drop out early when he felt the numbers showed her winning, and he threw his support behind her. The Republican race had me worried, though.

The guy who is my US Congressman decided to run for Senate this year. He’s endorsed by Trump, tweets out ridiculous remarks about President Biden, and even proudly tweeted about a bill he had introduced….which he had to withdraw because the law he was introducing was already on the books. He’s an idiot, definitely doesn’t represent me, and is unfortunately very popular. So I had to vote for the one guy who might defeat him, and I really don’t like him either.

I researched all the races on the ballot. Too many of the Republican candidates start their bios by proclaiming their Christian faith. I don’t care who or what they worship (as long as it’s not Trump). I just want someone who will do what’s right for EVERYONE, and will put constituents before party. Religion has no place in politics. In every single race, I voted for the least evil. And it didn’t leave me feeling good.

So I did my duty as a responsible citizen today, but I didn’t get the good feeling that goes with it. I look forward to the general election when I can vote for Democrats, and come out smiling, feeling good about my choices.

I’m Thankful for Discomfort

Reading the title of this piece, you are probably wondering why in the world anyone would be thankful for discomfort. Don’t we all try our damnedest to avoid discomfort? There’s a whole pharmaceutical industry dedicated to wiping out discomfort. The commercials are everywhere. Why should we be thankful for being uncomfortable?

Well, there are actually many reasons. Let’s begin with that physical discomfort that we try so hard to avoid. One advertisement I’ve seen shows people taking an over-the-counter drug to stop their pain, allowing them to push their bodies harder. I hate this commercial. The pain is there to alert us to something going on with our bodies. Maybe it’s safe to conceal our pain and push on, but it’s more likely that our bodies are telling us that it’s time to rest. We’ve worked muscles that have been lazy, and we shouldn’t overdo it. By hiding our pain and continuing on, we could do actual damage to ourselves.

Discomfort can actually be a motivator. What causes us to leave the warm, comfortable bed we are in each morning? It might be the discomfort of a full bladder, the annoying clamor of an alarm clock, or the persistent whining of a dog who needs to be walked and fed. So we leave the comfort so we can begin the work of a new day.

Discomfort doesn’t just come in physical form. It can be intellectual, spiritual, or philosophical. It is only when our knowledge and beliefs come into conflict with new information that we reflect and seek to grow. The discomfort of imbalanced cognition pushes us to reflect upon and adjust our beliefs. If there is no discomfort, there is no growth, no learning.

As I’ve spent this past year as a Deacon for my church, I’ve lived outside my comfort zone. There will be new challenges as I start my 2nd year. I’ve learned a lot about myself, and I’m slowly learning to have confidence in my abilities. I am very thankful I didn’t retreat into a comfortable hole, because I would have missed so much. I am grateful for my discomfort.

God Doesn’t Make Mistakes

One of the cruelest sentences I’ve ever heard is “God doesn’t make mistakes.” This is followed closely by “Everything happens for a reason.” I don’t believe either of these statements is true, but I want to focus on the first one.

A friend of a friend said “God doesn’t make mistakes.” This was added to the advice that my friend should ignore her grandchild, because this grandchild has just come out as transgender. This person obviously has strong opinions about God, but perhaps she should keep that opinion to herself. Not only was the statement and the “advice” harmful to this beautiful transgender child, it was hurtful to the friend who trusted her enough to reveal what is going on.

People seem to feel they know what God thinks. True, the Bible does reveal to us some of what God thinks, but it’s filtered through the minds and words, cultures and norms of imperfect humans. The only oft-repeated message of the Bible is that we are to love our neighbors as ourselves. Love doesn’t involve judgement. It involves acceptance, forgiveness, and tolerance.

We cannot know what God is like. We speak of “God the father,” but how do we know God has a gender? Personally I think God is genderless. God is creator, protector, parent, guide, but we cannot know what God truly is, at least not until we meet them. And yes, I say them for several reasons. God is non-binary, and God is three-in-one. Jesus was male, and we believe Jesus to be God’s son, but that’s because that was his role on earth. Of course, many of us also believe that Jesus was white, but that’s a post for another day.

Let me get back to the statement that I find so cruel. God created nature, and set it to continue over time. However, nature sometimes produces things we didn’t expect. Some animals will change genders. Clownfish are hierarchical with a female at the top, and when the top female dies, the top male becomes female and takes her place. When this happens, we don’t say “God doesn’t make mistakes;” we accept it as a part of nature.

Sexual organs and brain development of gender both begin in the womb, but they don’t develop simultaneously. Sex is established early on, but gender, or how we identify (as male or female) develops later. So it’s very possible for a child to be born with male organs, but to identify as female. This cognitive dissonance can cause the people experiencing it much anguish.

Suicide attempts among LGBT youth is high. For transgender people who have “de-transitioned,” it’s about twice as high as for those who have not. (See the UCLA School of Law’s Williams Institute article at the end of this post). LGBT youth who are rejected by their families are 8.4 times more likely to attempt suicide. (See attached link to The Trevor Project’s article). So telling someone to ignore their transgender grandchild is terrible, and perhaps deadly, advice.

It’s time for us to open our minds and our hearts to those who are different from us. It’s time for us to understand that our words can be helpful or harmful. And it’s definitely time to stop saying, “God doesn’t make mistakes.”

RESOURCES:

https://williamsinstitute.law.ucla.edu/publications/suicidality-transgender-adults/

Facts About Suicide

Tired

There have been many times in my life when I’ve been exhausted. I’ve been End-of-Book-Fair tired, End-of-Major-Library-Event tired, End-of-School-Year tired, End-of-Teaching-Career tired. Nothing, though, is as exhausting physically, emotionally, and mentally as caregiving.

The reason I was thinking about this today is I had a meeting at church with the other Deacon officers. One of them has begun a new round of caregiving with her husband, and I can see in her face and hear in her words that she is already becoming exhausted. You see, this is not her first time as his caregiver, and she knows it will not be the last. The person who needs care also needs to feel that they aren’t a burden, and so often they try to do things for themselves, things that it would be easier and faster for the caregiver to do. The problem is there is also often a feeling by the patient that letting someone else do for them means giving up some of their independence, and they want to hang onto that for as long as they can.

People with chronic conditions go through stages. There may be months or years where they are fine, and then the condition overwhelms them once again. The caregiver knows this, and is always on the alert for the next bout. Dana once said to me that I “hadn’t signed up for” caring for him; I reminded him that our vows included the words “in sickness and in health.” We were lucky in that we had many times of health, but the disease was always there, ready to attack again. When it did, I had to be ready to step up.

Those last months before Dana died were the most exhausting of my life. As the brain tumor took away some physical ability, his vocabulary, and his reasoning, I had to be there to help fill in the gaps. When he couldn’t see clearly and was dragging one leg a bit, we went to the grocery store. We had to go slowly, and Dana had to hold onto my shoulder. It would have been so much faster and easier if I could have just run through the store, gathering up what we needed. But Dana needed that trip outside the house as much as we needed the groceries. How could I deny him that?

I remember being in bed one night, trying to get to sleep, when Dana decided that there was a particular CD he needed, and he felt he had to have it immediately. I got out of bed and tried to find it, but he couldn’t tell me clearly what he wanted, and I was so tired as I tried to figure it out. I didn’t find it that night, and of course I felt I had failed him. That was totally unreasonable, but that’s how it felt. The next day I finally figured out that he wanted a particular DVD, not CD. Then he got depressed when I wouldn’t order him a stair lift so he could go downstairs to watch it. I tried to explain that he could watch it on his laptop, but it took a while for that to register. When it finally did, he asked for me to get another DVD set for him. He never watched them, but he also wouldn’t let go of them. It was as if he was trying to hang onto a life that used to make sense.

I have those two DVD sets on the mantle by Dana’s ashes. They were important to him in the last weeks of his life, for whatever reason. So they are important to me. I may never watch them, but I’ll always have them. And every time I look at them, I am reminded of the bone-crushing weariness and total joy of being his caregiver.

Don’t Count Me Out Yet!

Something kind of interesting happened while I was out walking Sonsie, but to put it in perspective, I need to give you some background. This has been my year to step up. As I’ve already stated, I was chosen to be a deacon. Next I put my name on the ballot for our HOA Board.

We aren’t having our usual annual meeting of the HOA because of COVID. So the ballots were mailed to us, and then we have until December 11th to return them. I followed all the directions to put my name on the ballot, which included writing a short bio. The ballots came this week, and apparently I was the only one who sent the bio.

Now, I walked Sonsie her usual route today, but then I continued past my unit and on up the hill to get a longer walk. As I passed a garage, a man thanked me for putting my name on the ballot. He said he had been asked to fill a vacancy a few months ago, and he appreciated me stepping up. He then said I would probably get called in a few months to finish someone’s term as one of the incumbents had a sick relative they are caring for. He made sure to tell me he thought the incumbents would be re-elected (they are indicated on the ballot). While that’s usually true, I think I have a fair shot at being elected.

In my bio, I mentioned that I had a “very loud and very stubborn miniature dachshund.” I also said that the residents have probably seen me out walking her. I pass a lot of people while I’m out walking. I always make sure to take Sonsie well away from the sidewalk so people can pass safely without worrying about the virus. This often means stepping in dew-heavy or rain-soaked grass. I also always smile and greet people I meet along the way. I wave at people passing in cars in the neighborhood. I make sure to be very friendly. People may not know my name, but they know that I’m the friendly woman with the loud and stubborn miniature dachshund. I think that will work in my favor.

I wasn’t all that worried about being elected. As I said, I put my name in because too often people just don’t want to step up (or don’t have the time). Now though, I’m really hoping I get elected. I know my neighbor wasn’t trying to be mean or ugly, but it would be nice to show that following the rules (including a bio) and being friendly have value in our world.

Celebrating Light

Tomorrow, November 14th, is Diwali. This started me thinking about holidays that celebrate light. There are so many, and most occur in fall and winter, just as our hours of natural light are becoming shorter and shorter. I don’t think this is a coincidence. I think it reflects our desire to bring back what is disappearing.

Think about it. From the Hindu holiday of Diwali, which is an Indian holiday of lights, we move on to Bodhi Day which celebrates the enlightenment of the Buddha. In Judaism, there comes Hanukkah, the Jewish Festival of Lights. Christianity is all about lights this time of year, and includes Advent, Saint Lucia’s Day, Las Posadas, and more, all celebrated with lights. Homes are strung with lights, trees wear garlands of lights, candles appear in windows. Then, as Christmas is ending, Kwanzaa comes with its candles. New Year’s, including the Chinese Lunar New Year, brings fireworks. All done with displays of lights.

If we think about it, people aren’t all that different. As it gets darker, we crave the light, no matter what religion we adhere to, if any. Now all we have to do is let that outside light into our hearts and souls, and try to shine as brightly as the lights of the seasons we are entering. Easier said than done, but it begins by recognizing that our beliefs may not be the same as others, but ultimately we all want the same thing – love and light.

Thoughts Before I Vote

Let me tell you about two of my closest friends. One has been a counselor, and a psychology instructor, among numerous other things. She’s smart and incredibly funny. She loves cats and dogs. She can fix almost anything, and has helped me out more times than I can count. When Dana was sick, she made him ginger cookies to help with the nausea. When I was moving, she helped me pack and move a ton of stuff, and I didn’t find out until later that she was hurting from a shoulder issue (which later required surgery). She’s a fabulous cook, and often invites me for meals where we laugh and eat and have great conversations.

The other close friend I want to tell you about was a nurse until cancer treatments made those long and arduous shifts impossible for her. She is also smart and funny, and can fix almost anything. She is my go-to person when I need some free medical advice, and she helped Dana with a lot as he went through cancer treatments. She also loves dogs and cats. Plus, she’s quite a gardener. I’ve eaten a good bit of produce that she’s grown, and her flowers and yard are always beautiful.

Now I need to tell you that these two wonderful women are married. They’ve only been legally married for a few years due to our nation’s insistence on marriage being “sacred,” even as people choose their spouses on reality shows, or divorce numerous times to marry the current side hustle. Though they’ve only been married a few years, they’ve been together for over 40 years. They have helped each other through hard times, financial crises, and illnesses. You know, for better or worse, richer or poorer, sickness and health.

Now my two friends are wondering what the future in the U.S. holds for them. Are they going to have to fight all over again for their marriage to be legal? Are they going to have to go back to filing their taxes separately because their marriage is no longer valid? Are they going to have to once again carry legal papers with them when they travel to be able to see each other if one gets sick? Marriage gives one legal rights and protections that unmarried couples don’t have. Will they have to move away to be able to live peacefully?

Honestly, this election scares me to death. If tRump wins, I don’t really think our country will survive as a democracy. I do know that these two wonderful people on whom I depend will no longer be just a car ride away. They will move away, and though we’ll always stay in touch, I will miss having them right there down the road. No more spontaneous dinner invites. No more meetups at our favorite pizza joint. My little gifts that I like to bestow upon them will have to be dropped into international mail. And if I’m lucky, I might get to fly to visit them once or twice a year.

There’s a lot at stake this election, especially for LGBTQ+ people, for pregnant women who must make very difficult choices, for women who want to be treated equally, for those who need health insurance to cover expensive medicines and pre-existing conditions, for people of color who want to feel safe just living their lives. I pray the majority of us make the decision that will begin to heal our nation.