Lisa laughs at all the times my response to her question "How are you?" is "I'm fine." Wendell Berry's Hannah Coulter, in his novel by the same name says;
"I need to tell about my people in their grief. I don't think grief is something they get over or get away from. In a little community like this it is around us and in us all the time and we know it. We know that every night, war or no war, there are people lying awake grieving, and every morning there are people waking up to absences that never will be filled. But we shut our mouths and go ahead. How we are is "Fine." There are a few who will recite their complaints, but the proper answer to "How are you?" is "Fine."
"The thing you most dreaded has happened at last. The worst thing you might have expected has happened and you didn't expect it. You have grown old and ill, and most of those you have loved are dead or gone away. Even so"
"How're you?"
"Fine. How're you/"
"Fine.'" P.61
Yes, this is how I was raised and I've said "Fine" countless times. And, sometimes, that's fine. :)
Mary Hattlestad, my friend, died today. We worked together in 1963-64, before either of us were married. Since Joanne's death Mary's husband,Sam, has been a great comfort to me. Now I'll try to return the support. I'll soon write more about the time Mary and I worked together. Rest in peace, Mary, good and faithful servant.
Takk for alt,
Al
Saturday, December 7, 2019
Friday, December 6, 2019
Ambiguous grief.
All grief is grief, yet, there are griefs I have not experienced. The loss of a child is difficult for me to imagine. It makes sense to me that ambiguous grief, e.g., grief without a body, has a special pain all of its own. Hannah Coulter, the narrator in Wendell Berry's novel, Hannah Coulter, experienced such grief when her husband went 'missing in action' in the Battle Of The Bulge in WW II, never to be found.
Hannah Coulter is speaking:
"I began to know my story then. Like everybody's, it was going to be the story of living in the absence of the dead. What is the thread that holds it all together? Grief, I thought for awhile. And grief is there sure enough, just about all the way through. From the time I was a little girl I have never been far from it. But grief is not a force and has no power to hold. You only bear it. Love is what carries you, for it is always there, even in the dark, or most in the dark, but shining out at times like gold stitches in a piece of embroidery....And so I have to say that another of the golden threads is gratitude.
"All through that bad time, when Virgil's absence was wearing into us, when 'missing' kept renaming itself more and more insistently as 'dead' and 'lost forever,' I was yet grateful. Sometimes I was grateful because I knew I ought to be, sometimes because I wanted to be, and sometimes a sweet thankfulness came to me on its own, like a singing from somewhere out in the dark." PP 51-52.
Life is full of losses both large and small, so life is filled with grief but grief is not what we are, it's what we feel. We are called to be loving and grateful. While we live with the presence of absences, note thee plural, in the land of grief we can be loving and grateful. "Grief ...has no power to hold. You only bear it."
Takk for alt,
Al
Hannah Coulter is speaking:
"I began to know my story then. Like everybody's, it was going to be the story of living in the absence of the dead. What is the thread that holds it all together? Grief, I thought for awhile. And grief is there sure enough, just about all the way through. From the time I was a little girl I have never been far from it. But grief is not a force and has no power to hold. You only bear it. Love is what carries you, for it is always there, even in the dark, or most in the dark, but shining out at times like gold stitches in a piece of embroidery....And so I have to say that another of the golden threads is gratitude.
"All through that bad time, when Virgil's absence was wearing into us, when 'missing' kept renaming itself more and more insistently as 'dead' and 'lost forever,' I was yet grateful. Sometimes I was grateful because I knew I ought to be, sometimes because I wanted to be, and sometimes a sweet thankfulness came to me on its own, like a singing from somewhere out in the dark." PP 51-52.
Life is full of losses both large and small, so life is filled with grief but grief is not what we are, it's what we feel. We are called to be loving and grateful. While we live with the presence of absences, note thee plural, in the land of grief we can be loving and grateful. "Grief ...has no power to hold. You only bear it."
Takk for alt,
Al
Thursday, December 5, 2019
Perspective
April 12, 2018, the day Joanne died, is a dividing line in my life. With her death, and the ensuing grief, I gained a radically new perspective. When in print I see the word 'grief' I'm drawn as a moth to a flame. Lisa gave me Wendell Berry's 2004 novel, Hannah Coulter, commenting that she thought I'd enjoy it. Tonight, in the quiet of The Little House, opposite Joanne's chair, I began to read and was quickly engaged.
The novel is in the form of a monologue by Hannah Coulter in her seventies, reflecting back over her life. On page seven:
"The year I was twelve my mother died. She took the flu and then pneumonia, and then, almost before we could think that she might die, she was dead. By her grave, when we brought her there, there was a heap of snow on one side and a heap of dirt on the other.
"And so I learned about grief, and about the absence and emptiness that for a long time make grief unforgettable. We went on, the three of us remaining, as we had to do. In all the practical ways we managed fine. Grandmam was still a vigorous woman, as she would be for years yet. My father, though seriously damaged by his loss for awhile at least, was capable and a master of making do. I was big enough then to do a woman's part, and I did it. But we had a year when even to look at one another would make us grieve."
Prior to Joanne's death I would have read this with hardly another thought. With the perspective of life in the land of grief, living with the presence of absence, I read it existentially, "Yes, that is MY experience." "I learned...about the absence and emptiness that for a long time make grief unforgettable." And I say "Yay and verily."
There's another line in the book that especially resonated with me. "When you are old you can look back and see yourself when you were young." P. 31. How true that is and, what was confusing at the time, often makes sense with the perspective of time...hindsight you know.
Takk for alt,
Al
The novel is in the form of a monologue by Hannah Coulter in her seventies, reflecting back over her life. On page seven:
"The year I was twelve my mother died. She took the flu and then pneumonia, and then, almost before we could think that she might die, she was dead. By her grave, when we brought her there, there was a heap of snow on one side and a heap of dirt on the other.
"And so I learned about grief, and about the absence and emptiness that for a long time make grief unforgettable. We went on, the three of us remaining, as we had to do. In all the practical ways we managed fine. Grandmam was still a vigorous woman, as she would be for years yet. My father, though seriously damaged by his loss for awhile at least, was capable and a master of making do. I was big enough then to do a woman's part, and I did it. But we had a year when even to look at one another would make us grieve."
Prior to Joanne's death I would have read this with hardly another thought. With the perspective of life in the land of grief, living with the presence of absence, I read it existentially, "Yes, that is MY experience." "I learned...about the absence and emptiness that for a long time make grief unforgettable." And I say "Yay and verily."
There's another line in the book that especially resonated with me. "When you are old you can look back and see yourself when you were young." P. 31. How true that is and, what was confusing at the time, often makes sense with the perspective of time...hindsight you know.
Takk for alt,
Al
Wednesday, December 4, 2019
Obituaries
There's an old saw that maintains that the difference between neurosis and psychosis is that in psychosis we don't know what is real while in neurosis we know what is real it just makes us mad (or maybe sad). If that definition holds I suspect I'm more neurotic than psychotic.
How old I was when I began reading obituaries I don't remember but, I do now, and suspect I'm not alone. Living Lutheran, a publication of the Evangelical Lutheran Church publishes obituaries of pastors and other church workers who have died. The December 2019, issue had an obituary for a pastor I knew; Lee Wesley, age 86. In 2009 Joanne and I accompanied Ed and Mary Jane to San Diego to mark 50 years since Ed and I were there in Marine Boot Camp. San Diego boasts the largest outdoor organ in the world and there are concerts with this instrument on Sunday afternoons. Joanne wanted to hear the organ so we attended the concert. After the concert we were pleased to see Lee Wesley, who was wintering in San Diego.
We knew Lee because, when Joanne was CEO of Lutheran Services in America,(LSA), Lee was Executive Director of Lutheran Community Services, New York, a member agency of LSA. This was the last time either of us saw Lee.
All the above is prelude to telling of my reaction when I saw Lee's obituary. My first thought was "now there's one less person in the world who remembers Joanne." Gradually Joanne's legacy is fading. Fewer persons remember her and their memories of her become less distinct. Which brings me to my neurosis; I recognize that inevitable reality, which makes me more sad than mad. This fading is the way of all that is temporal...but I don't have to like it!
Comfort comes in remembering the myriad who called her "role model" and "mentor" believing that Joanne's influence continues to be felt in the world through those who fell under her influence. So, as I live with presence of absence in the land of grief, I cling to the belief that Joanne lives through many others.
Takk for alt,
Al
How old I was when I began reading obituaries I don't remember but, I do now, and suspect I'm not alone. Living Lutheran, a publication of the Evangelical Lutheran Church publishes obituaries of pastors and other church workers who have died. The December 2019, issue had an obituary for a pastor I knew; Lee Wesley, age 86. In 2009 Joanne and I accompanied Ed and Mary Jane to San Diego to mark 50 years since Ed and I were there in Marine Boot Camp. San Diego boasts the largest outdoor organ in the world and there are concerts with this instrument on Sunday afternoons. Joanne wanted to hear the organ so we attended the concert. After the concert we were pleased to see Lee Wesley, who was wintering in San Diego.
We knew Lee because, when Joanne was CEO of Lutheran Services in America,(LSA), Lee was Executive Director of Lutheran Community Services, New York, a member agency of LSA. This was the last time either of us saw Lee.
All the above is prelude to telling of my reaction when I saw Lee's obituary. My first thought was "now there's one less person in the world who remembers Joanne." Gradually Joanne's legacy is fading. Fewer persons remember her and their memories of her become less distinct. Which brings me to my neurosis; I recognize that inevitable reality, which makes me more sad than mad. This fading is the way of all that is temporal...but I don't have to like it!
Comfort comes in remembering the myriad who called her "role model" and "mentor" believing that Joanne's influence continues to be felt in the world through those who fell under her influence. So, as I live with presence of absence in the land of grief, I cling to the belief that Joanne lives through many others.
Takk for alt,
Al
Tuesday, December 3, 2019
Reading, recommended?
This is one of those books I'm glad I read, depressing as it was, for again, I learned a lot. The biggest take away? the stupidity of war. Frozen Hell: The Russo-Finnish winter War of 1939-40. Helsinki, 10:30 A.M., November 30, 1939. Soviet bombers drop from a cloud bank to unload their bombs on the capital city of Finland. In the weeks to come the world will watch admiringly as the tiny army of a small Baltic republic wages the kind of war that inspires legends against the military might of the Soviet Union. A forgotten war, until now. William R. Trotter Russian
The central thrust of the book describes the horrible blood shed that cost ca., 220,000 Russian lives and ca. 65,000 Finnish deaths. Had the Finn's acceded to Russian demands for accommodations to protect Leningrad it all could have been avoided and the Finns would have lost less territory. Finland could also have avoided "The Continuation War" when they joined Nazi Germany to again fight Russia. When Finland sues for peace it's at the least moment before Russia was poised ton conquer all of Finland.
A fascinating section of the book reports the machinations of France and Britain who attempted to foist the conflict with Germany off on Norway and Sweden. Had Finland appealed to these two countries for help late in the war France and Britain had plans to use that as pretext to seize Sweden's nickle mines that were supplying Germany. This they hoped would shift hostilities away from France and Britain. The Finns never request help and the plotters were soon voted out of office.
It's a very readable, if depressing book, and a valuable addition to the historical record. For the reader inclined to celebrate the destruction of "enemy forces" it's dehumanizing. Whole Russian Army companies drowned in frozen lakes, which is just one example of the terrible suffering in this war.
Takk for alt,
Al
The central thrust of the book describes the horrible blood shed that cost ca., 220,000 Russian lives and ca. 65,000 Finnish deaths. Had the Finn's acceded to Russian demands for accommodations to protect Leningrad it all could have been avoided and the Finns would have lost less territory. Finland could also have avoided "The Continuation War" when they joined Nazi Germany to again fight Russia. When Finland sues for peace it's at the least moment before Russia was poised ton conquer all of Finland.
A fascinating section of the book reports the machinations of France and Britain who attempted to foist the conflict with Germany off on Norway and Sweden. Had Finland appealed to these two countries for help late in the war France and Britain had plans to use that as pretext to seize Sweden's nickle mines that were supplying Germany. This they hoped would shift hostilities away from France and Britain. The Finns never request help and the plotters were soon voted out of office.
It's a very readable, if depressing book, and a valuable addition to the historical record. For the reader inclined to celebrate the destruction of "enemy forces" it's dehumanizing. Whole Russian Army companies drowned in frozen lakes, which is just one example of the terrible suffering in this war.
Takk for alt,
Al
Monday, December 2, 2019
Who owns an illness?
It's too facile to answer, "who owns an illness?" by simply saying that person in whose body it resides. That would imply that a person owes nothing to anyone but himself/herself. Such a position would be difficult to defend except perhaps for a nihilist. Does one owe it to loved ones to exercise reasonable self-care which includes prompt medical attention? If one is the complete owner of his/her illness then what others need doesn't matter. Yet, must not the bearer of an illness have primary ownership of it?
In the Books Section. p.E11, of the December 1, 2019, Star Tribune is a review of the book Passing: A Memoir of Love and Death, Michael Korda, reviewed by Laurie Hertzel. Laurie writes,
"Those of us who are members of that enormous, sad club--the club of people who lost loved ones to cancer--will find much that resonates in Michael's new book.
"....'Passing' is the memoir of a man who stuffs himself with facts and information about brain tumors and cancer in hopes that knowledge will help him get through the anguish of watching his beautiful wife die. But there is no antidote to anguish.
"The word 'beautiful' is important here. Beauty was one of Margaret Korda's defining characteristics, one of the things she valued most about herself....Tall lithe and blond, Margaret--a former model--discovered a small irregular spot on her face and was pretty sure she knew what it was; her husband had recently undergone treatment for malignant melanoma, treatment that left a divot in his skull.
"But what if surgery left a divot in Margaret's lovely, high-cheekboned face? She chose to cover the spot with makeup and put it out of her mind. For years. By the time she could no longer ignore it, the cancer had metastasized to her brain, and this is where the deeply sad story of 'Passing' begins"
As Korda lives in the land of grief will Margaret's denial haunt him? Did she owe it to him to seek prompt medical treatment, at the expense of her looks, so they could have more time together? Might she have lived a long life, albeit with disfigurement? Was she correct is acting as it he were her issue? Herzel in review does not raise this issue, rather focusing on Korda's grief which is similar to so many others.
"Who owns an illness?" My answer is, while the bearer has a compelling interest, others; family, friends, the wider community also have ownership. Living in the land of grief, as I do, I am comforted that Joanne and I were on the same page with her illness, treatment and decision to enter hospice. This means that I am not left with "I wish she would have..." It is one less complication in my grieving.
Takk for alt,
Al
In the Books Section. p.E11, of the December 1, 2019, Star Tribune is a review of the book Passing: A Memoir of Love and Death, Michael Korda, reviewed by Laurie Hertzel. Laurie writes,
"Those of us who are members of that enormous, sad club--the club of people who lost loved ones to cancer--will find much that resonates in Michael's new book.
"....'Passing' is the memoir of a man who stuffs himself with facts and information about brain tumors and cancer in hopes that knowledge will help him get through the anguish of watching his beautiful wife die. But there is no antidote to anguish.
"The word 'beautiful' is important here. Beauty was one of Margaret Korda's defining characteristics, one of the things she valued most about herself....Tall lithe and blond, Margaret--a former model--discovered a small irregular spot on her face and was pretty sure she knew what it was; her husband had recently undergone treatment for malignant melanoma, treatment that left a divot in his skull.
"But what if surgery left a divot in Margaret's lovely, high-cheekboned face? She chose to cover the spot with makeup and put it out of her mind. For years. By the time she could no longer ignore it, the cancer had metastasized to her brain, and this is where the deeply sad story of 'Passing' begins"
As Korda lives in the land of grief will Margaret's denial haunt him? Did she owe it to him to seek prompt medical treatment, at the expense of her looks, so they could have more time together? Might she have lived a long life, albeit with disfigurement? Was she correct is acting as it he were her issue? Herzel in review does not raise this issue, rather focusing on Korda's grief which is similar to so many others.
"Who owns an illness?" My answer is, while the bearer has a compelling interest, others; family, friends, the wider community also have ownership. Living in the land of grief, as I do, I am comforted that Joanne and I were on the same page with her illness, treatment and decision to enter hospice. This means that I am not left with "I wish she would have..." It is one less complication in my grieving.
Takk for alt,
Al
Sunday, December 1, 2019
On giving...
"In a letter to his mother in 1750, (I was just a boy 😊) Benjamin Franklin caught her up on what he was doing. 'I read a great deal, ride a little, do a little Business for myself, more for others; retire when I can, and go (into) the Company when I please; so the Years roll around, and the last will come; when I would rather have it said, He lived usefully, than He died rich.'" Quoted by Chris Farrell in an article in the Star Tribune, December 1, 2019, P. D5, the article entitled Giving is the key to living usefully. Ferrell writes, "The difficult question is how to stay focused on what matters when earning and managing our money. The answer lies with putting giving at the core of household finances...."
When Joanne was raising money for charitable causes, with persons of some resources, she advocated the "additional child" approach. She encouraged persons to do their estate planning and include a charitable bequest as if there was another child in the family. So, a couple with two children would divide their estate in thirds; a third to each child and a third to charity.
Much has been written and said about the secret of 'the meaning of life." Mostly it's been wasted breath and newsprint. The meaning of life is so simple it hides in plain sight :the meaning of life is giving. Fascinating isn't it, that it shows up on the Business Page of the paper authored by a financial planner?
Takk for alt,
Al
When Joanne was raising money for charitable causes, with persons of some resources, she advocated the "additional child" approach. She encouraged persons to do their estate planning and include a charitable bequest as if there was another child in the family. So, a couple with two children would divide their estate in thirds; a third to each child and a third to charity.
Much has been written and said about the secret of 'the meaning of life." Mostly it's been wasted breath and newsprint. The meaning of life is so simple it hides in plain sight :the meaning of life is giving. Fascinating isn't it, that it shows up on the Business Page of the paper authored by a financial planner?
Takk for alt,
Al
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