Archive | November, 2011

A Wrinkle in Time

26 Nov

A Wrinkle in Time is NOT a nod to Madeleine L’Engle; though her book by the same title is one of my all time favorites.  No, my title is reflective of the condition and transformational process of raising a teenager!  For those of you who have passed this stage of life, you will smile with a sage wisdom of someone who has made it through this battle zone.  If you have yet to trod this rough terrain yourself, you will have all the answers for every scenario connected to the hormonally raging adolescent–and happy to offer them I’m sure.  And, if you are presently in the throngs of being witness to your child as angel with horns, as I am, then you will understand more profoundly the implication of my title.

I know, I know, I have nothing to complain about…Esther is a dream!  It is true, she is.  She is kind, loving, productive, and willing to learn…BUT, she is still a teenager.  And dream or no dream, she can incite, in me, a wrath so deeply felt that in the moment of my vexation I feel it more safe to run away, than to open my mouth.  In fact, I have found myself screaming (with my inner voice only), “Abort, Abort, Abort!”  And in order to apply the directive within a reasonable amount of time, I begin to fantasize about my private Greek island.  You know the one where no-one can find me.  The isle of enchantment where I can stay while she finishes this important phase of life.  My plan is to emerge from my sabbatical with not one furrow in my brow, nor one (more) line added to my face, nor white hair to my head.  In my fantasy I have managed to avert the distress of my daughter’s adolescent folly, molding, and maturation.  And with this avoidance I plan to find, in her stead, a beautifully stable woman who walks in wisdom and strength.  AAAhhhh what a lovely idea!

Along the lines (no pun intended) of wrinkles…I am taking Cole back to Zhu’s Neuro-Acupuncture Center, the week after next. And because Cole and Piper (both) feel they need to be with each other, I consequently need to find a different lodging situation (our previous hosts politely declined Piper’s stay due to their own canine companion).  We have received a couple of very generous donations which helped toward gas last time, and will actually cover the treatment this next time (how can I ever thank my precious Aunts?!).   And in all honesty, if it weren’t for the fact that I wholeheartedly believe Cole will regain his full vision under the treatment and therapy regimen of Dr. Zhu, I wouldn’t take pains to make the trip again (especially with a dog).    But since I am, I am asking for help, or a favor…

Right now I am looking into a hotel room for the three of us-Cole, Piper, and myself (a confinement which is sure to place new creases in my brow).  I am also perusing and will contact a couple of condo owners to ask them if they will donate some nights to our cause (fund-raising is not my forte, but I will give it a go just the same).  So if any of you has a connection with either an available home/condo/apartment or hotel in the San Jose area, please pass the blessing onto to us.  I promise you, we are very grateful recipients–though mentioning it is quite embarrassing.

So there you have it; The good, the bad, the wrinkled, and the needy…oh what fun!  Now don’t you just hear the beckoning of Greece?!


24 Nov

Those of you who have been ‘serious’ followers of my banter, here on, will remember the post titled, “100% Cotton Mouth”.  If you have not read that one, please take a moment to skim over it before continuing to read this current post.  The reason being, is that my ‘…cotton mouth’ post referred to my Aunt Hilda…who, today, closed her eyes and left her body.  Her almost 104 year old physical being.  Her spirit is now young again, her voice is strong, her vision is perfect, and her poor, tired feet alight as she moves freely about the Heavens.  My Aunt Hilda is home.  And though she lived a very full life and we rejoice in her peaceful passing, the finality of her time here with us is still a bitter pill to swallow.

I lift my glass to her.  I wear her gloves and purses with a sentimentality not found in a new purchase.  I find enjoyment with every note I write on her secretarial steno pads–from when telephone numbers began with a letter.  I wear her skirts with joyful amusement that I still can.  I value the time spent with her throughout my life.  I will cherish always her “bear” in the game Pictionary, for I could have sworn it was a squirrel…

She is home.  I am grateful.  Though my heart still aches.

February 19, 1908–November 23, 2011

Bless you Aunt Hilda, and bon voyage!


22 Nov

I am sitting here at my home computer.  Yes, home.  Cole and I have returned safely.  And although Piper went for an accidental swim one night in our absence, and though I had to rush Buddy (our little chihuahua/terrier) to the Vet Clinic last night because Piper saw fit to take a bite out of his neck and ear, for the most part the house is in order.  So here I sit in luxury with a portable heater to keep my feet and exposed ankles warm, coupled with ‘Rachmaninoff fan radio’ streaming from Pandora’s box.  Brian is in his 7p.m. position on the couch (eyes closed), Cole is finishing his dinner, and Esther is off yonder-armed with a new driver’s license and a willing accomplice…her vehicle.  And today I have decided it would be a blatant injustice to not return Cole to San Jose for another week of intensified treatment.  Brian agrees.  Cole is on the fence–for two reasons only.

  1. He doesn’t want to be away from Piper for another week.
  2. The treatment is a lot of work, and it’s exhausting.

I guess the treatment, for Cole, is akin to having hemorrhoids post childbirth.  After birth, you have in your life a new bundle of joy, with hopes and promises for the future.  Yet the whole process of bearing-down has left you with a sore anal sphincter.  But does the memory of the pain override your biological nature, and keep you from further pro-creation?  Of course not–at least not from the act of trying! 🙂  I know, I know…Cole wouldn’t describe his comprehensive acupuncture treatment using the same metaphorical approach as I have, but I’m sure the women reading this will get it!

The photos I am including in this post showcase more of the facility, as well as Dr. Moyee working alongside Cole by massaging and exercising the muscles in his face and eyes that have lay dormant these past 8 months.  The fact that they are waking up and showing signs of new life are so exciting!  He can feel his face, he can feel his foot, he can move his eye balls left and almost right.  I cannot ignore this renaissance!!  Nor can Brian (and in truth, nor can Cole).  Even his physical therapist today said she noticed an improved coordination on his left side–the side effected by his stroke incident!  There is also a photo of Dr. Moyee guiding Cole on his balance and gait.  To not return to the same intensive, hands on, comprehensive care, I feel would NOT be a prudent decision.  …one more week, Cole, one more week!

The photo of the ‘Oscar Mayer Wienermobile’ is just an added bonus–our prelude before the Grapevine.  It kind of reminds me of what an actual hemorrhoid looks like, so its placement here is appropriate, though the reasoning not so much…  What can I say, things in life seem to always point me toward some kind of hole! 🙂




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