Month: October 2023

It begins when we refuse to listen to each other, when we no longer make efforts to understand each other. We takes sides, separate into groups, then tribes. If we allow our grievances to simply fester and grow we are soon lobbing deadly rockets at one another either figuratively or literally. We become living representatives of the story of Cain and Abel. Anger and jealousies overcome the rational and kind aspects of our human natures. We turn away from any possibility of seeing each other as individuals and adopt a gang mentality. It becomes us against them. The animal instincts to survive, to carry out our grievances take over our ability to think about the damage we are doing. Only after the worst of our natures wreak destruction and death over innocents do we humans end our warlike behavior and attempt to restore peace and harmony in our world. Sometimes that takes a life time or hundreds of years. 

The anger that is seething in our midst has been in full view of late. On a personal level we witness family and friendships breaking apart over differences in beliefs. Worldwide hatreds are fueling wars. In my own nation I have watched our democratic institutions become paralyzed with partisan battles that are often based on propagandized lies. We were not even able to pause long enough to handle a pandemic with compassion and sacrifice for the needs of the sick and dying. Instead we broke into camps and relied on fear and innuendo to guide us through the difficult times. Our once cooperative spirits were squelched by troublemakers who made our medical communities the enemy. False prophets turned religion into a political football. Dishonest journalists spread lies and propaganda. We ultimately endured and then overcame the worst of the virus, but the battle lines that we drew during our ordeal became more pronounced than ever. Our thinking became rigid, angry and unwilling to consider working together for a common good. 

We humans are in trouble right now. We can’t simply ignore what is happening nor can we continue to act as though we are nameless members of tribal hordes intent on destroying our real or imagined enemies. We are at a stage of seeing peacemakers as weak and those who arouse the rabble to anger as great leaders. To use a very tired phrase, the inmates are running the asylum. Strongmen across the globe are inciting riots and war. They are tearing institutions apart and stoking fear and anger. They masquerade as people who care when the reality is that they only seek power for themselves. 

Here in the United States of America we are at a crossroad. We are only inches away from a collapse of our ability to govern in a way that honors each person’s unalienable rights. We have lost the ability to distinguish between those who truly love this country and its people and those who bow to tyrants whose only goal is to seize power and titles for themselves. We are a nation of many races, ethnicities, religious beliefs, sexual orientations, personalities. There should be room for all of us. We should be able to live our lives without fear that one or another group will impede our freedoms. Our government should not be a religious enforcer. We have seen what happens when religious norms for a single group become the rules for all. We should not have to look or act a certain way nor should we hide truths about the history of humankind and our own missteps as a nation. When we live in the dark of ignorance we only repeat the mistakes of the past. 

If we blindly follow one person, one group or use one media outlet to gather information we are doomed to living inside a circular argument that never sets us free. We must be willing to study different philosophies and ideas. Learning about them does not mean that we must adhere to them. It is instead a way of enlightenment that allows us to cull through the chaff that often hides both the problems and their solutions. It’s not only possible but probable that even a very good and generous leader will have greatness and mistaken flaws at one and the same time. There is no such thing as a perfect human being, but some among us are more honorable than others. 

Might does not always make right. Doing things the way they have always been done is not always the correct pathway. If we humans are to evolve and progress even in tiny increments we must be open to an alliance not with a single group but with the greatest ideas and ideals of human imagination. At the same time we must always bear in mind that some of the things that we fight so hard to dismiss are of very little consequence. Who someone chooses to love should not be of any concern to us. Love is love and we should celebrate it. How a person decides to dress or grow their hair does not hurt anyone. Each woman knows how many children she is able and willing to have. 

We all spill the same blood. Our bodies mostly work the same way. All physical characteristics are superficial. We grow up in our respective homes being taught lessons in how to live. We may be eating different foods, speaking different languages or believing different things. No one way should be deemed better than others. The rich man is not more important than the man who tends his lawn. The child born to a king is no more wonderful than the one who arrives on this earth in poverty. It’s well past time for us to learn from history that categorizing and judging the worth of individuals based on human made criteria is wrong. It’s well past time for learning how to live in harmony, respect and understanding. If we continue down the dangerous path of unquestioned allegiance to any person or belief we will continue to fight among ourselves and people will needlessly suffer. Let’s step out of tribal echo chambers before we mindlessly destroy the good things we have built together. Our grievances begin so innocently but too often they end with war. Let’s stop that before it is too late.    

I have reached a point in my life in which my calendar is often filled with ever recurring routines. I have to balance medical appointments for my father-in-law, my husband and myself, teaching/ tutoring times, continuing education classes, funeral arrangements for friends and family members, and now and again something special to remind me that life has many different faces. In the midst of far too many sobering obligations that speak to both the resilience and fragility of our stay here on earth my husband gifted me with tickets to see Sting perform in his My Songs tour. 

I’ve been a huge fan of Sting, the English musician and eighties rock star, from the time he was a member of The Police. I have been taken with the complexity of his music that tells vivid stories with poetic lyrics along side melodies that capture a perfect melding of artistry. If not for MTV and my teenage daughter’s obsession with the video performances on the channel that featured the biggest artists of the early nineteen eighties I might never have noticed Sting. 

In those years I was in the most productive and exciting time of my life. In addition to being a mom and often taking care of my own mom, I was dedicated to my career as a mathematics teacher. All of my friends were as hale and hearty as I was and so we spent lots of time together exploring the world together. In other words, I was a very busy thirty something. When my daughter brought Stings music into my home, I paused to listen and realized that there was something quite special about him. 

Over the ensuing years Sting continued his artistic excursion into many different ways of experimenting with words and sounds. Both he and I mellowed into our seventies without losing our energetic edges. His music matured and proclaimed his genius. I followed his journey with interest and steadily increased my collection of his music, including his foray into production of a Broadway play called The Last Ship which contains some of his very best work. When I heard that he had scheduled a performance in Houston I desperately wanted to attend. Since the concert coincided with my impending birthday, my husband purchased tickets as a gift to me. 

I was over the moon with excitement but also aware that things happen quickly and unexpectedly as I age. I looked forward to the event but also kept my enthusiasm at bay lest we might not actually be able to attend. When the day finally came and it was certain that we were going to see Sting perform I was ecstatic. I primped and readied myself as if I were going to a high school prom. I actually felt as giddy as I once had been when I went to see The Beach Boys back in my high school days. 

We drove across town to the Woodlands where the concert would take place in an outdoor venue, the Cynthia Woods Pavilion. We dined on seafood and toasted each other with wine as we both anticipated the performance. It was all rather magical in that our timing was in perfect sync with no hiccups. We even found a great parking spot and walked right to our seats only minutes before the show started. The weather that had been dreadfully hot for weeks had turned into a lovely fall coolness that only required a sweater for comfort. 

It felt as though nothing could have been any better, but as soon as Sting began to sing it was indeed far better than I might even have imagined. He chose a mix of his most popular songs, blending one tune with the next in an almost orchestral movement. He was fit and trim and up to the task of delivering one song after another with energy, excitement, and perfect pitch for over ninety minutes. He had the diverse audience in the palm of his hands as we ultimately stood clapping, dancing and singing along at the climatic end. 

Sting did not disappoint me or my husband or any of his diverse fans. He took me back to a time in my life that was almost as perfect as the performance that we watched. The music reminded me of laughter and joy with my family and friends. It was a journey back to a time when anything seemed possible with a soundtrack that was glorious. Despite the arthritis in my knees that was tweaked by the cold, I literally danced out of the concert arena feeling that the world was going to be alright. That was the power of Sting’s music and artistry.

There was pure talent and charisma on stage that night. Sting was the center of it all but he did not eclipse the back up singers or any of the musicians. In fact, he featured their talents quite generously. It was an ensemble of incredible performers whose hearts and souls demonstrated the glory of music at its very best. It was indeed a great gift to me and to everyone lucky enough to enjoy the evening with me. It will be one of those nights that I never forget and fortunately I will be able to relive it over and over again whenever I wish to hear Sting once again with my collection of his songs. We all walked along with him through fields of gold on that night and it was glorious.  

A great man has left us. The world will not be the same without him. Last Thursday Dr. Efrain Garcia took his last breath under the watchful care of his daughters. There is so much to say about this incredible man that words seem inadequate. How does one describe a living saint, a loving husband, father, friend, doctor, educator and humanitarian? Dr. Garcia was one of the most talented and dedicated cardiologists to ever work in the Houston Medical Center. His extraordinary skills brought kings and presidents and people from far and wide seeking his help. His story is the stuff of legends and yet he was a humble man who epitomized the virtuous life. He healed the hearts of those afflicted with disease and brought comfort to them as well . 

Efrain Garcia grew up in the mountains of Puerto Rico in the town of Lares. His was a large and happy family that somehow knew that he would do something special even when he was still a young boy. He was earnest and kind and brilliant. He finished undergraduate studies early and then entered the University of Puerto Rico College of Medicine where he became the youngest person ever to graduate from there with a medical degree. He joined the army to continue his training as a cardiologist, serving in Korea and Japan and working at Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio, Texas where he met his future wife, Rosemary. 

Efrain and Rosemary, a beautiful nurse from Chicago, were married on my husband Mike’s eleventh birthday. Mike attended the celebration with his mother and father, who was Efrain’s “brother” cousin and close friend. He remembers the celebration with great joy because the newlyweds brought out a special cake for him and the wedding guests sang Happy Birthday. It was so like Efrain and Rosemary to think of others even on their special day. Theirs would be a blessed and generous union resulting in the births of five beautiful daughters who were the center of their lives.

I met Efrain Garcia when I was engaged to marry Mike. I was immediately enchanted with him. He was handsome, wise, and charming in a quiet and understated way. I loved listening to him or just sitting beside him and soaking in his calmness and stunning intellect. He was a man who measured his words to be certain that they adequately represented what he wanted to convey. He possessed an unassuming and reassuring strength that made everyone feel protected and loved in his presence. 

Over the years my admiration for our “Uncle” Efrain only grew. I witnessed his brilliance as a renowned cardiologist and his devotion to family. I marveled at his tirelessness in caring for people. Sometimes he would have sleepless nights working in St. Luke’s Hospital ministering to a patient. He would often catch up on his rest with brief naps sitting in a chair while his family bustled about. Somehow in spite of his busy life he managed to balance his ever more time consuming career with time spent with those he most treasured. Mike and I were lucky to be among that group.

Dr. Efrain Garcia worked for Kelsey-Seybold Clinic in the early days of its creation. He was a founding member of the Texas Heart Institute at St. Luke’s Hospital and eventually became its director. Along with Dr. Robert Hall he opened Hall/Garcia Cardiology, one of the most renowned cardiology associations in the nation. He was instrumental in extending the lives of thousands of people including my mother-in-law who had been born with a heart defect that might otherwise have caused her death before she reached the age of thirty. Instead, with his guidance and care she lived to be seventy six years old. 

Dr. Garcia was also the cardiologist for our next door neighbor, Dave Turner, who credited the good doctor with saving has life multiple times. Those who visited with Efrain professionally knew that he was compassionate, honest, and knowledgeable. He was a gifted diagnostician with an uncanny ability to explain what he had found in a kind but frank manner. Even after he had retired Dr. Garcia continued to provide his expertise without remuneration to the indigent patients of San Jose Clinic. 

Once Mike and I had both retired from our own careers Efrain and Rosemary invited us to accompany them to classes at St. Michael’s Catholic Church. Sometimes we would meet early to have dinner before heading for the theological lessons. I loved those moments when Efrain quietly discussed his philosophies about life. This is when I really began to know him as an exceptional human with a heart so expansive that it touched people far and wide. It was a gift just to be in his presence and I often found myself thinking that he had indeed been sent to this world by God to perform his good works, something his family had sensed even when he was a little boy. 

Eventually Efrain’s wife Rosemary became more and more ill. Efrain’s devotion to her was inspiring, The two of them moved to a home for seniors where Mike and I enjoyed visiting them until the pandemic came and we were no longer allowed. Rosemary died in 2022 and it was apparent at her funeral that Efrain was not feeling well. His own heart had begun to fail and he knew all too well what his future would be. He began gently helping those who loved him to understand that he was dying. He did this so bravely and with his usual gentleness. It was as though he was more concerned about how everyone was feeling than about himself. 

There is a gaping void in the world today. Dr. Efrain Garcia has died. He was a giant among us. His spirit resides in the comforting memories that we have of him. His contribution to the human experience is present in the thousands of families that he helped and the countless doctors that he trained. Mostly his influence resides in his daughters, sons-in-law and grandchildren. He was one of the greatest people that anyone who knew him will ever find. His was a life well lived and he shared it with a generous heart.

I love Texas. I was born and raised in this beautiful state. I have been the recipient of the kindness of the people of Texas many times over. I worked as a public school teacher and administrator in the state of Texas. I earned both of my college degrees at the University of Houston in Texas. Texas is home to me and when I travel I always feel a sense of relief when I pull into my neighborhood. Nonetheless I find myself wondering if it is a good idea to remain in Texas, something that night not have ever occurred to me were it not for events of the past few years.

Texas politics are quite interesting. Most of the people in Texas live inside the cities, which are mostly run by duly elected Democrats, but the rural Texans vote in Republican blocks that keep the state offices firmly in the hands of Republicans. All too often the decisions made in the state legislature do not reflect the beliefs of the city folk and sometimes they even run counter to the kinds of things that we need. Of course that is the way democracy often works, but of late it seems to have become toxic to the very survival of our beautiful state. 

Texas encompasses a vast area of land that represents multiple ecosystems. We have beaches and mountains, swamps and deserts, forests and grassy plains. There really is something for everyone in Texas but years of conservative leaning government have left us vulnerable to the harsh effects of climate change which brought hundred degree temperatures to virtually every part of the state from June and into September. With little or no rain for weeks on end the landscape was shades of brown and water became scarce while the usage of electricity to keep the citizens cool threatened the grid that provides power to collapse. 

All the while far too many of the people who hold positions of power in our state ignore the extreme changes in our weather that are becoming more and more frequent and more and more likely to leave us in a never ending cycle of emergency. Instead they focus too much on culture war issues that have little effect on our quality of life and often are at odds with the needs and beliefs of a rather large swath of the citizens. 

On September 1, many new laws came into effect but none of them had much to do with the dangers that we face from climate change. Some even seemed to fly in the face of the realities of extreme weather events that have plagued us for months. For example, the state overrode the authority of cities to require companies to provide water breaks for workers who are laboring outside on very hot days. The irony of such lack of foresight became even more apparent when those workers were dealing with temperatures as high as one hundred seven degrees. 

In the meantime, the state of Texas took control of the largest school district in the state, Houston ISD, because a couple of schools did not raise their test score as high and as quickly as desired. The new rules that the state appointed superintendent and school board have implemented are so ridiculous that it boggles the mind. Teachers must read scripts for their lessons that will in turn be carefully times with clocks and stopwatches. Even papers will be graded by an aide rather than the teacher. Such measures take much of the humanity and creativity out of the educational process. Additionally no first day welcomes or introductions were allowed this year. Doors have to stay open so that classrooms can be carefully observed without notice.

The schools are being run with military precision and no thought of the feelings of either the teachers or the students inside those classrooms. Libraries are being used as discipline centers so librarians have been released to go to other schools or to perform other duties. Just as with the heat of the summer, the real educational issues are not being addressed. Instead instruction is being glossed over with rules and procedures rather than individualization for both teachers and students who are engaged in the art of learning. 

Universities are not immune to such oversight either, with tenure becoming more difficult to secure and more input as to what can be taught and how it should be taught coming from lawmakers rather than experts in particular fields. The result has been more than usual numbers of professors considering relocating to other states.

All of this kind of legislating is turning off a number of long time Texans who are beginning to wonder if it is time to move to a state that is more friendly to their needs. The irony of all of it is that our state motto is “friendship.” We have historically been a place where people came to find the freedom to be themselves. Somehow along the way too many people in Texas have lost their empathy for refugees from anywhere and so lawmakers seem more intent on legislating what we can or cannot do rather than in implementing ways to be innovative and dynamic. Their fixes tend to be quick, poorly considered and punishing. There is a sense that the elected officials are not working for all of us, but instead are pandering only to those who voted for them. That means that they are out of step without almost half of the citizens and it does not seem to matter to them. 

I am seeing more and more of my former students formulating ways to reestablish themselves in other places. They do not feel that their needs are being met in Texas and in fact actually believe that they will not have much of a future in this state. All of this saddens me. I am a Texans through and through who gets emotional when I drive through the state and marvel at its beauty. I love the people here but have slowly seen us dividing into two camps. I wonder how we have allowed ourselves to be so manipulated.

I long for the days when Texans were legendary for thinking out of the box and working together. Instead I see various groups coming under attack. I see our Attorney General being tried by his Republican peers for mishandling the ethics of his office. There is an angry attempt to undo our reputation as a refuge that welcomes those attempting to escape hardships. I wonder what it will take to make Texas great again. My beautiful state is in trouble and more than anything I want to save it

I’m not a spring chicken, so I have seen and sometimes even experienced many of the difficulties that plague societies. My mother was a single woman whose income never reached a level that made life easy for her. When she became older my brothers and I realized that she needed to have more assistance with daily living. Since residing in a facility designed for seniors never appealed to her because of cost and what she saw as loss of freedom, we struck a bargain and invited her to take turns living with us in our homes. She was a rather thoughtful guest who made the situation as pleasant as possible for herself and for us, but I knew that there was always a kind of tension that threatened to burst forth and sometimes actually did.

My mother never wanted to sell her home while she was living elsewhere. Somehow she harbored a belief that she might one day return to her more independent life. While we knew that it was more likely that she would become less and less able to live alone, we quietly let her continue to pay taxes and utility bills for her empty house. Sometimes we took her there just to sit among her familiar things for a few hours. All in all we made the situation work, but realized that it was becoming less and less tenable for all of us. Serious discussions about next moves were on the horizon and we kept putting them off.

Now I find myself in a similar situation with my ninety four year old father-in-law. While he is desperately attempting to maintain his independence, we see him becoming less and less able to take care of himself. He certainly can no longer live alone, but like my mother he insists on keeping his home. The stress of continually driving across congested roads to check on his mail and the general condition of the house falls mainly on my husband, whose health is definitely declining so he should be shouldering fewer and fewer responsibilities, not more. Nonetheless we have made the situation work for a bit over a year now and simply respond day by day by to changes in both us and my father-in-law that are inevitable as all three of us age. 

I find myself thinking that our American society has created very few options for the care of older citizens even though we know that we have so many who are struggling in one way or another. Behold the resurrection of an old idea known as the additional dwelling unit or ADU. A trend in many parts of the country is to build a tiny house for older relatives near the family home of younger generations. Where there is enough land and zoning laws are not too restrictive, these places, sometimes called Granny flats, are revolutionizing the ways in which we look after senior citizens who are reluctant are reluctant to check themselves into the old school nursing and assisted living homes. People who have created such spaces boast about how much stress is removed from an often delicate situation when nobody feels that they have lost their independence or privacy.  

I actually teach mathematics to a group of students who live in an expanded version of ADUs. They have a large tract of land that houses the parents, grandparents and even siblings of the young family that hired me to teach their children. It is indeed a compound of many generations in which everyone has a private space while simultaneously being able to look out for one another without much effort. Everyone’s happiness is apparent in the joyfulness that comes from the reduction of worry and stress that they enjoy. It literally reminds me of Amish communities where families create compounds in which everyone enjoys the comfort of knowing that there are always caring relatives nearby. 

Another concept is co-housing, the idea of creating a community of townhomes or small houses around a central courtyard. Such places gather a mixture of young and old people who agree to look after one another while also having their own spaces for privacy. A high school friend of mine has been a leader in establishing such a co-housing project in the Houston area and his enthusiasm for the idea has captured my imagination. 

Even as we have found a steady routine within our now expanded household I am all too aware that our comfortable pace might be interrupted at any moment by any one of us becoming ill, facing a medical emergency. In my own case I worry about what might happen if either I or my husband become temporarily incapacitated while looking after my father-in-law. I also am fully aware that as the clock ticks for him it becomes more and more likely that he will be less and less able to do things for himself and those times will most certainly come. As my husband and I also age the problems will begin to compound themselves and we do not yet have any kind of plan. I

In spite of friends’ comments that I am a saint I know all too well the worries that cause me to panic over what my imagination thinks may lie ahead. My anxieties suck the joy of life more often than I want to admit and I suspect that it is so with anyone dealing with an aging parent. Happily some people have been innovative in dealing with the problem and we might all learn from them.

I don’t know where my own situation will lead. My mother died before things became dire. My father-in-law does his best to blend into our routines. He too worries about what lies ahead. We all try to just think about those things tomorrow while I suspect we would be better served if we were to talk about how we should react to whatever happens before it happens. I plan to start those conversations with my adult children right now. I have learned the hard way how difficult it can be to meet everyone’s needs only when an emergency arises. Better that we broach those topics and find agreement that allows everyone to feel good. It’s time to have a plan so I don’t want to wait to think about that tomorrow.