Google is the New Grandma

It all started the week before Christmas. My daughter had left a message that she needed my banana bread recipe. I called, tickled that she loved it so much, and before you can say three by five card, she was telling me that she didn’t need my recipe anymore, that she had Googled another recipe instead. But it isn’t MY banana bread recipe I stammered. Oh yes, but its close enough she said, and breezily launched into another conversation. While we talked I tucked the recipe card, stained with oil from so many years of bread making, back into the metal recipe box.

The next blow came when another daughter was to meet me in a nearby town for the funeral of a mutual friend. After discussing who would be there, and what time it started, I began to tell her how to find the funeral home. Again I was dismissed before finishing my sentence, “Don’t worry Mom, I already Googled the directions, I got it!”

Okay, so my recipes are no longer treasured, and my children don’t need me to help them navigate to locations they’ve never been to, but that’s nothing compared to the final blow.

My niece called from work. “Aunt Therese, do you think you could go look at Sophie? I’m at work all day and Brad says she has a rash on her stomach, I’d feel better if you looked at it”. Puffed up with pride that SOMEONE finally needs me I heartily agreed and proceeded to their house hoping to help. Her husband Brad laid Sophie on the couch telling me that she had been running a fever for two days, but that it had finally broken this morning. Her abdomen had a very diffuse coloring to it, not quite a rash, but not hives either. Emily called as we were evaluating the situation and said “Don’t even worry about it Aunt Therese, I Googled it and I know what it is: Roseola. I see photos of it and it shows a mottling of the abdomen and legs and it says that the patient can have a fever that goes for several days, and then when it breaks there is usually this rash that starts. It’s Roseola for sure.” Okay. Yes, well I agree, it’s Roseola.

With WebMD and Allrecipes.com what’s a mother/grandmother to do? People have access to health advice, marital advice, cooking, cleaning and stain removal charts. I have to accept that many of the things I learned from my grandmother and mother will now be taught by Google, but there are still things that I can do that Google can’t. Google can’t hold a grandchild for immunizations while his mother cries out in the waiting room, can’t help pack a duffle bag for a son leaving for world travels, can’t applaud like a wild woman when she sees her grown daughter on stage making it as an actress and most of all can’t stand up and scream at a basketball referee because he called a foul when the player was clearly not blocking!

I can “be there” and be present in my children’s lives as well as my grandchildren, and isn’t that what is most important?

I learned this lesson well as I watched my mother in the last few months of her illness. She had emphysema and had become frail and weakened to the point of almost being bed ridden. Just walking to the bathroom was difficult. One day as I was helping her into the bathtub she began to cry. “Mom, why are you crying?” I asked, worried that she was in pain. “I can’t make pies anymore” she whispered. Weakened from the disease and struggling to breathe it had been a long time since she had done anything that brought her joy, and baking was definitely a joy to her. In this moment I realized more than ever, that I didn’t care if she ever baked another pie, or attended another event with me, I didn’t care if she was bedridden and required assistance for every movement. All I cared was that she was still here, still present, and still my mom. I told her this very thing, and I’d like to think it brought her some comfort. So if I can’t be the font of knowledge to my children and grandchildren, I can still be present.

Oh I’m running to keep up with technology, I’m Facebooking, Tweeting and yes, I’m Googling like the rest of them. “If you can’t beat em”, isn’t that how it goes?

Is the Internet making us obsolete? Just when I thought so my 12 year old grandson texted me: “Grandma, are you coming to my basketball game today?” to which I texted back “Duh!”

Come Together

As I watched the opening ceremonies for the Olympics tonight, I couldn't help but feel the excitement of these events. Each country representing it's colors with it's own flag, marching together and waving. All the hype is really deserved, this is a spectacular competition and yet there is such an air of dignity.
It makes me think about the state of our government right now. Each side have formed their boundaries, and no amount of persuasion will bring them together. It's politics at it's worst, and their are no winners. President Obama has had so much to face in this his first year in office, yet he is ridiculed for being either too conciliatory, or for being an obstructionist. He can't win.
But why is it that we've come to a place where we can't have some middle ground at the highest levels of government? I think because it's become a sport of it's own, to hold your ground and not let anything as petty as unemployment or health care make you "cave in" to the other side. How long will we as citizens watch this ugly stand off before we get mad and say enough? I remember the movie "Dave" and how even though it's a fantasy, it seemed so wonderful to see the hucksters and phonies booted from office, and a good guy voted in.
Is it too late? Are we that polarized that we can't come together for ANYTHING that would be good for the country? I hope not. I hope that somewhere in Washington there are congressmen and women who are having an epiphany about what they are there for, who can stand up to their own parties and demand that the ridiculous stand off be ended. I'm tired of being held hostage to fat cat politicians who want nothing more than to obstruct and humiliate the other side. We deserve better.

Can we turn our backs?

In the last three weeks we have witnessed a grass roots revolution in Iran, largely because of cell phones and social Internet sites such as Twitter. With legitimate journalists forced to leave the country this technology has had a profound effect on the way we view the Iranian crisis. We empathize with the people on the ground; we see their grainy videos shot in secret and under penalty of death if they are discovered. We hear the sounds of gunshots, and the cries of the wailing women as their loved ones’ are beaten or dragged away. These first-person home movies are the lifeline that links the Iranian people to the outside world.

These images show us the facts, once just glossed over by Iran’s secretive and oppressive government. Amateur videos, emotionally charged blogs and Twittered texts sent in a fleeting moment by a scared teenager across the planet from us, bring our shared humanity to the forefront. We feel at a very basic level solidarity with these folks, running for their lives, dreaming of freedom that they hope is possible. We, who wake up each day to the richness of our freedoms, root them on as they attempt to take back their government from the terrorist who now rules.

My wish is that we could somehow drop thousands of working cell phones down to the people living in the refugee camps at Darfur. Perhaps if we could see the graves of the 400,000 people who have already lost their lives, we would feel more empathy. Would we be moved to action if someone could send live footage on a daily basis showing that 80% of the children under five are suffering from severe malnutrition or the over 2.5 million people who have been driven from their homes? Women and girls who have the task of getting water for the group are in fear of being raped or murdered each day as they leave the camps with their water buckets-we read these statistics, but they remain words on a page. Would our hearts be pierced to call on our government to DO SOMETHING if we could see these images and hear the cries of the people of Darfur?

Our government has already stated that the crisis in Darfur is an official Genocide, yet there is little movement on the part of the International Community to save these displaced and oppressed people.

We all know that the people of Darfur have no cell phones with which to call out to us, and their only social networking is in relationships with others who share the squalid refugee camps they now call home. We who know the taste of freedom have a responsibility to reach down and give aid to those who thirst for it as well.

In The Blink of an Eye

A dear friend lost her son today to a freak accident. He is now brain dead, but his body lies in state, awaiting his final act which will leave a legacy of true love. This young man, just 36 years old, had previously indicated that he would like to be an organ donor, should the need ever arise. Unfortunately it did. Today after several tests were performed, his parents were informed that there was no perfusion to the brain and he was declared dead at 4:50 pm. This pivotal event began a timeclock and now the search is on for recipients for these precious life giving organs. Somewhere there is a mother who has been praying for an organ to become available for her child. Her prayers will be answered. One leaves in order to allow another to stay. This perfect chaos appears random, but I think otherwise. Though we cannot make sense of a life cut short, we can marvel at this show of heroism, the selfless act of one to another, the gift of life itself.
Standing at Paul's bedside today I placed my hand on his heart and I thanked him for his gift. I whispered to him that we honor his suffering and applaud his generosity. His decision will set into motion so many things. Someone who gets his heart may now have the opportunity to fall in love. A blind person may now see the sunset for the first time. A tired and weary man who has been on dialysis for years may now know robust health. There will be sorrow, and there will be rejoicing.
We cannot give Paul another 36 years to live and love and realize all of his life dreams. But how many of us can say that we have saved the lives of 6-8 people? His life is gone, and in it's place a million tiny cells burst into being and declare to the Universe itself: Hope is alive!
Pauls loving act will wipe away tears, bring happiness and hope, and leave a legacy of a man who, though he may not have ever known it, became an example to us all.
Bravo Paul. May the angels welcome you to paradise, may the martyrs greet you on your way, may you see the face of the Lord this day, Alleluia, Alleluia.

"This is the duty of our generation as we enter the twenty-first century -- solidarity with the weak, the persecuted, the lonely, the sick, and those in despair. It is expressed by the desire to give a noble and humanizing meaning to a community in which all members will define themselves not by their own identity but by that of others." Elie Wiesel

This week in my hometown a woman killed her two children, then took her own life. The details of this tragedy will come out like entrails at a vulture picnic, but they are almost not even necessary. Three people who were working and playing and talking with neighbors yesterday, are now gone.

Our American culture is so young, and so homogenized that the very thing we pride ourselves in-our independence-is also our own albatross. Most older cultures have rituals and ceremonies, there is a sense of family and community, there is a sense of belonging. I think we have lost that along the way to the uber-independence in our culture. We live in our little houses, working like dogs to pay our mortgages, and then often the people you are closest too live miles and miles away.

Would it be possible for us to find our way back to some sense of community in the midst of such a mix of culture and diversity?

I remember the day that September 11th happened, there was this immediate sense of connectedness with every single person you met. In the grocery store, at the gas station, in the workplace. We were under attack, and you had the sense that all of us were pulling together, circling the wagons against the forces that would seek to take away our very homeland.

I liked that time, just afterward. I felt a sense of connectedness with total strangers, and it felt good. We were one people and we were scared, and mad and worried. People reached out to others, and talked more.

But then the crisis abated and we went back to business as usual.

This week NPR discussed the topic of fame, and how most people want it, but then when they get it, they wish they didn't. Reminds me of the folk tale of the dancing shoes.

I think at a very basic, almost cellular level, what we all want is not fame, but just to know that we are KNOWN-that we are seen, that we have value, that our life here matters somehow.

I wonder about the woman that took her life, and her children's lives too. I wonder if she had any friendships, any connections in the community. I wonder if she passed by people everyday and said Hello, wishing that someone would connect with her, would see her. In the end it is a diagnosis of some kind of mental illness that creates this type of tragedy, but you wonder if she had confided in someone, if anything would have changed.

My life as I grow older is more concentrated, and I taste life with more attention to detail. I am pretty certain I will never be famous, but is it possible for me to make a difference in the life of others? I think that is a goal I can try to accomplish.

I want to have kindness and compassion be my compass. I hope to be present in people's lives, in good times, and in bad. I want to really SEE the people who move in and out of my life, and honor what ever they have to give, and give them all that I can.

Elie Weisel is a true example of someone who LIVES this way. His life, so full of loss and tragedy, is such a shining beacon of hope, that in the midst of life's brutality, one can find the hope to continue to reach out. His life's work is a masterpiece of love and forgiveness.

Connecting. That is what I am contemplating.

Filibuster or bust

Okay, most people who know me would say that I lean pretty far to the left. I don't apologize for that, I love being a liberal, it's a compliment. I believe that liberals are peace loving, responsible, accepting, hard working, fair minded patriots who love their country.
But here's the thing. Even though I'm thrilled that the Democrats are in charge now, I do not believe that one particular party should be able to gain Filibuster-proof control. I find that almost frightening. If the shoe were on the other foot I would be truly fearful. With that said, here we are today with Arlen Specter waltzing on over from the Republican Party to join the Dems. If only it were for the right reasons . . . but that doesn't even matter. What matters is that if Norm Coleman goes down, and Al Franken is sworn in, the Democrats will be able to drive through virtually anything without opposition.
I don't believe that our founding Fathers wanted this. A truly democratic nation is one that wants its leaders to debate, discuss and develop a plan. Not just who ever is the biggest guy gets his way.
I can see that this presents a challenge to the Democrats in Congress to use this power wisely, and not become dictators. The American people are watching and we will not be forgiving of those that abuse their privilege.
It makes me sad that there is such a polarization of the parties. I wish a strong Independent leader would emerge, then many of us might find ourselves at home. I am sick of the Limbaugh's and Hannity's sticking their feet out in the aisle like school boys, trying to trip President Obama at every turn. I'm also tired of the rhetoric spouting from Oberman, who has become a caricature of himself foaming at the mouth on past grievances.
Aren't there any reasonable, fair minded politicians who want to reach across the aisle? Can't the radio big wigs come down off the pedestals and try to forge some peace in this country for the sake of our future?
I guess it starts with us. I will be emailing my representatives today and letting them know that I expect leadership that is inclusive of others who do not agree with them. I expect Republicans to be included in decision making through vigorous debate and reasonable round table discussions.
I hope that our president will lead with less arrogance than Mr. Bush did. No one person, or one party should be "the decider".
As for the Republicans today, it's their party they can cry if they want to. You would cry too if it happened to you.

Big Brother

I always wanted a big brother, no offense to my older sister. I always wanted someone there to defend me from bullies, and look out for me on the schoolyard. Well, Big Brother is watching over me, but not in a good way.
This week we learned that our government is now using a Predator unmanned drone aircraft, on loan from the Department of Homeland Security, to survey the valley that is flooding in North Dakota. High definition videos are shot from high above the area in question, then reviewed in some cozy office at Homeland Security. This creeps me out in so many ways. When ever there is a disaster, people are vulnerable and will follow direction without question. Sending in drones to take high definition video is not in itself a threat, but what it does is inoculate us as a nation to the use of these drones. "Don't worry my little friends, the drones are our friends. This is the wave of the future. See how it's helping us?" We already have Google earth street version to pinpoint our exact location, but the technology that is emerging is so intrusive, it frightens me.
I was sitting at my computer yesterday when I received an email. It was from my car. No kidding. It emailed me, via the Onstar program, and informed me that my right front tire pressure needs attending. I was stunned. There is another example of a "helping" device, that could also be used to "track" me if needed.
Then there was the incident three weeks ago. My sister and I arrived at a friends apartment to find him disoriented and in need of an ambulance. She called 911 on her cell phone, then we both realized that we didn't have the exact address, but again, no problem. As she was talking she heard an unusual bell sound on her phone. Yep, they had tracked her down via the cell phone and were sending help straight away. Did we feel helped? Hell no, we felt extremely creeped out.
This technology is watching our every move through traffic cameras on street corners, ATM cameras, parking lot cameras-hell you can't even straighten out your pantyhose on the elevator anymore as there is some 18 year old kid watching you from the security booth!
Is there anywhere to jump off the grid anymore? I doubt it. Our government is doing a heck of a job scaring us into compliance about the amount of surveillance it is doing. I'm not sure what the solution is, but I continue to vote for LESS monitoring systems when ever possible.
Big Brother is an impostor and he is not protecting us, he is hoping we will all fall in line and fall asleep so that he can do what ever he chooses and we won't even blink an eye. Silent drones overhead-think about it.

Suffering

It seems as I grow older my peripheral vision is expanding, and what I see from every direction is suffering. Three people I know are struggling with cancer, another two are grieving the loss of children, another the loss of his marriage, another few the loss of jobs, of homes. The losses are monumental, and the courage it requires for them to keep going is enormous.

What can we do for each other, as we grow older, as we become even more familiar with these losses? Because let's not fool ourselves, with great experience and age, comes loss. We can keep our heads down, turn up the music and pretend it isn't happening. But better still I think we can link arms and walk together, heads held high with full stride.

I think life can be juicy and fun, breathtaking and heartbreaking and dangerous. I also think at times it can be boring and dull, or crushingly painful and cruel. What ever comes, we face it not alone, but in a community of family and friends. We can and must reach out to each other when we are feeling the lonliness that nips at the heels, or the fear of the unknown, or the known, when the suffering is so raw that we wonder if we can bear it another day.

I found a quote today that I love:

"I'd rather live my life as if there is a God and die to find out there isn't, than live my life as if there isn't and die to find out there is". Albert Camus

Loving matters. Caring and comforting each other when we see the need matters. Sometimes I feel so powerless to do anything to comfort some, who suffer so much, with no resolve in sight. I try to remember that what most of us need more than anything, is just for someone to be present. Someone to stay with us for a bit, and not wince at the sight of our ugly, gaping lives.

I want to grow older with vigor, and with passion but more than that, I want to grow older with deep and genuine compassion.

During this economic dark storm, we don't have the power to change the deficit, but we can look around our own little world and try to be present. That's what I am trying to do. A little candle in the darkness to find our way to each other.

And the Oscar goes to . . .

I'd like to thank the Academy for the recognition awarded me tonight. I'd also like to thank the following people for helping me to make it to this point in my life:

Sound familiar? I won't lie, I do love the Oscars. I love the gowns, and I love the people who trash the gowns. I love the camera panning out to to see reaction of the one's who lose. I love that it's live and that someone just might trip on their way up the stairs.

But back to the thanks. I'm thinking a lot lately about Karma, about life, and about teachers. I really believe that every incident that comes our way throughout our day is a teacher. Every person who cuts us off in traffic, every email that hits our inbox asking for us to do more work than we can possibly accomplish, every first date that makes us feel like a kid, and the ones that never call again-all of them are our teachers.

If we sit back and learn, we can matriculate through this period and go on to the next, but if we sass back to the teacher and resent the lesson, we are doomed to repeat the grade.

I'm trying really hard to PAY ATTENTION. To just be aware, and awake. To live consiously, not just stumbling along. I want to love with gusto every soul that comes into my path, and forgive those who hurt me along the way too. Sometimes it's like paddling upstream and other times it feels like floating along with the current.

I'd like to thank all my teachers past and present, and hope to be open to learning from those still to come.

The song of my country

Today I was lost in the middle of a big hospital. I asked a staff person to direct me to the right area and he motioned for me to follow him and he would show me the way. He was tall and lanky, very dark and shy. We walked up and down many hallways and the entire time he was singing a beautiful song, very quietly to himself. When I asked him what he was singing he seemed embarassed, as though he didn't know I could hear it. He said "Oh, it's the song of my country, that's all". I asked him what his country was and he told me he was from the Sudan. He said he missed it and would be going back.

This made me think today, what is the song of my country? I don't think it is the Star Spangled Banner, or even God Bless America, though both of these make me weep every time I hear them.

Today, on the eve of the most exciting inauguration of my lifetime, I feel the song of my country is a homogeneous blend of so many cultures. It is the song of zydeco from the bayous of Lousianna, it's the sound of smoky jazz from Chicago, it's salsa and the blues, it's hip hop and reggae and Chopin and klezmer, it's the native American flute and rock and roll and it's all of us from all walks of life. Our song is a chorus, not a solo.

There has never been a time when I felt more hope for a country that is so broken at the tender places. We are humbled, we are in need and what we need is each other. We are hungry for the partisan politics of the past to be replaced by the unity of a nation.

Barack Obama will not be a perfect president. He will let us down, make mistakes and come up short to be sure. But he is the first man in politics in a very long time who has the ability to call out of us that which has long been in slumber-hope.

My song today is "It's a New Day" by Will I Am. It speaks to my soul and it makes me happy.