Category: Commentary

“Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.”

“The man who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones.”

“And remember, no matter where you go, there you are.” —Confucius

Who among us has never faced a situation in which we ultimately felt that we had done everything wrong? We chide ourselves for being failures and maybe even give up on whatever we had been attempting to achieve. The one act that left me feeling horrific for many years afterword involved the way in which I agreed to treat my mother’s mental illness the first time that her bipolar disorder raged to the point of depression and paranoia that frightened me. 

Looking back I have been able to ultimately forgive myself. I was quite young at the time, barely past the age of being legal to drink alcohol. I had never before experienced the confusing behavior of a person with mental illness. I knew nothing about doctors who offer care for such things. I was in fact groping in the dark while grieving that my mother was suffering in a most horrific way. Not even the adults with whom I conferred wanted to offer any kind of advice. I realized that I was on my own and would have to take a stab in the dark to make my mother well again. 

As it turned out I relied on the expertise of our family physician, which I suppose was a proper thing to do rather than bowing to old wives’ tales or the advice of laymen. He gave me the names of two psychiatrists whom he admired and I simply drew one of the names out of a hat. The doctor was kind enough to offer to help but instead of first seeing my mother in his office, he insisted that she had to be hospitalized immediately. (I would later learn that such a dramatic move was not necessary but at the time I had no way of knowing better.) 

It took some trickery on my part to get my mom to agree to go with me to the hospital. I did not like fooling her and just as I silently predicted the fact that I had not been totally honest when I conned her into signing herself in for treatment would haunt our relationship forevermore. Still, I was unable to think of any other way to get her the help that I believed she needed. 

Once she was in the hospital the doctor took over and to a large extent used psychology to get me to agree to procedures that I would later learn were not really necessary. Sadly the experience was so horrific for my mother that she found it difficult to trust me from that point until the day that she died. Part of her loved me in spite of what she saw as a betrayal and the other part allowed her motherly love to overcame the hurt that she felt. 

The next time that she became ill, and there were many next times, I was more mature and sure of myself. I set out in search of a doctor for her, taking time to insure that he or she would try to heal my mother without hospitalization and procedures that would terrify anyone. After speaking with many psychiatrists and asking them many questions I decided to take her to a doctor who had listened to my concerns attentively and who explained that he used a different approach to helping his patients than the person who had first treated my mom. He explained that different medical schools pushed different practices and as such he turned out to be exactly the physician that my mother needed. He treated both her and me with respect and she had a very long term and successful time with him. He had shown a willingness to help heal slowly and under my care in a home setting. It was a good match all the way around. 

Still, I carried feelings of guilt until my daughter was studying to be a nurse. By happenstance a discussion arose about the care of mental illness in one of her classes. She described the journey that my mother and I had taken together in the quest to keep Mama well. She furthermore described the horror of the first attempt and the subsequent negative feelings that I had carried for decades. The professor’s response was the the remedy that I had needed for so long. 

She explained to the class that dealing with a loved one who has a mental illness is one of the most difficult medical situations that we might ever encounter, especially if we have not had any previous experience with it. She insisted that even the medical teams who work with such individuals sometimes feel as though they are groping in the dark as they attempt to find the proper treatments for each individual. She told my daughter that I had done what I had to do to keep my mother from delving more and more deeply into the dark pit that was consuming her and that ultimately the initial treatment that she endured had obviously saved her. She applauded me for learning how to tailor future treatments to my mother’s feelings and needs and told the class that I was the kind of hero that doctors not often see. 

I am not writing about this to boast that I am somehow a terrific person but because the journey with someone who is afflicted with mental illness can become so dark and confusing that there are times when the individual seeking care for them is unable to decide whether what they are doing is good or bad. Everyone will experience deep emotions and mistakes will be made. The point is to rise again and be willing to keep trying for the sake of the person who is afflicted. In the end they are the ones who are feeling an indescribable and deep pain for which there is often no permanent cure. Their lifetimes become defined by the symptoms of their illnesses with moments in between when they find themselves again. It is important that we focus on them rather than our own failings. What we need is the strength and willingness to keep moving sometimes slowly forward and sometimes slowly backward. All the while we would do well to remember that the spirit of Confucius’ wisdom is cheering us on. 

I have always been fascinated by the fact that a high speed train traveling in a tunnel for much of the way is able to reach Paris from London in about two and a half hours. When I mentioned to my husband that I would really enjoy spending a day in Paris on our trip he flinched and pointed out that we had already planned to travel to Scotland and would not have time. Nonetheless, I was insistent that if we left early enough in the morning on one of our free days we would have an entire day to see much of Paris without having to worry about hotels and such. 

I found the Eurostar site and learned that there is a train leaving from London to Paris at six each day which would put us in Paris at eight thirty, providing enough time to hit the highlights and still get a feel for the city. I saw the wheels turning in hubby’s head and I knew that he was suddenly as interested in the idea as I had been. I sealed the deal by noting that the experience on the fast train would be as much a part of the trip as the city itself. 

We went to bed early on the evening before our remarkable journey so that we might arise from our slumbers by three in the morning and head quickly to the train station at St. Pancras. We scheduled a car for the early hour which promptly arrived by three thirty and was waiting for us as we exited the hotel. The streets of London were more deserted than I had ever witnessed and our ride went quickly. 

The vendors were barely coming alive when we arrived at St. Pancras. The gate to the Eurostar was not yet open so we waited patiently on a bench sipping tea and munching on a light breakfast. It was strange seeing so few signs of life in a place usually packed with travelers. It did not take long for the place to pop back to life once the gate to Eurostar opened. I was stunned by the number of people who would be joining us on the “chunnel” over. 

The train itself was so long that I though we would never reach our assigned car. Since we were only staying for the day we did not have to worry about luggage. We settled into our seats and as though someone had pulled a switch we were on our way by six thirty speeding toward Paris in the dark. The rhythm of the ride lulled me into a light sleep and by the time we were back on land the sun was rising over the little towns through which we moved. It was stunning how quickly we reached our destination

We secured a ride to the Louvre which was at the top of our must see bucket list. We were shocked by the crowds standing in long lines named by the hours at which the ticket holders would be allowed inside. We had a bit of leeway before we needed to join the que and that allowed us to walk around the area and stroll over to the Seine River. The buildings and the atmosphere were as electric as I had hoped they would be. Soon it was time to walk through the glass pyramid into the wonder that is the Louvre. 

I have to admit that I felt a bit overwhelmed once I was inside. I had not expected such a huge crowd. It was not at like the quiet strolls that I was accustomed to having in other galleries. We were like sardines packed into a small can. Still, we were incredibly excited about just being there and we were determined to first see the Mona Lisa. We followed the guide that took us up one set of stairs after another and along hallways filled with people. After at least a fifteen minute hike made slower by all of the visitors we were finally in the room where Leonardo da Vinci’s most famous work resides. 

At first all I was only able to see was a mass of people in front of me. I soon enough realized that if I was going to actually see the painting I would have to be a bit more aggressive like the people who had pushed past me. With a bit of effort I had a glorious moment when suddenly there was the lovely lady in her all splendor smiling at me with that mysterious expression on her face. I snapped as many photos as possible before I was pushed aside. I felt as though everything about the trip was as glorious as I had wanted it to be. I needed nothing else to make our journey worthwhile but there would be more to come.

We spent a bit more time looking at other fantastic works of art but knew that our visit would have to be a bit like speed dating so that we might see the other sights. Our next destination was Notre Dame Cathedral which was part two on my bucket list. 

I had cried when I saw that incredible church on fire. I worried that it would never be the same. I was stunned when it reopened after only five years. I had watched a video of the painstaking repairs and I knew that I had to see the place in person. Sadly try as I may I was unable to secure tickets to get inside. Just standing in front was good enough for me when I saw the long lines of people vying to enter. I realized that I probably would not have been able to get the spiritual feeling that I desired with so many souls sharing the space. Instead I enjoyed the breathtaking views of the exterior with the spire and roof repaired from the horrific damage of the fire. I cried as I thought of how sacred the place was and spent quite some time just sitting and staring at the wonder of it all. 

The clock was ticking and we were hungry so we found a nearby cafe and ordered some wine and onion soup which proved to be more tasty than I expected. We stayed for a long while just watching the people pass in front of us and enjoyed the fact that nobody was pushing us to hurry up and leave. Being in that quaint spot ended up being one of the most wonderful moments of the trip. 

I had promised a young student of mine that I would bring him a miniature Eiffel Tower and a nearby shop had exactly what I needed. The miniatures were so lovely that I purchased one for myself. We were running out of time and a visit to the base of the tower would have to wait for next time, but we were close enough to get some wonderful photos. 

We walked some more through the streets of Paris and our stroll was as lively as it might have been. I felt the vibe of the city and its people. As we waited for the car that would take us back to the train station we marveled at the people riding motorcycles, mopeds, bicycles and scooters in the crowded streets. It was the best show in town but before leaving we enjoyed the almost sinful delight of Pan au Chocolate. Afterall what is Paris without a bakery?

It was with reluctance that we left the city after dark. We were tired and ready to be back in London but I think that both of us agreed that we had only had a taste of Paris and we wanted more one day. We got back to St. Pancras Station that once again felt empty due to the late hour but we marveled at the crowds enjoying the night life in the streets of London even at such a late hour. We were ready for slumber and happy that we had spent the day in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. We knew that there was a very good chance that we would one day return. 

My husband and I tend to be serious travelers. We prefer visiting museums, buildings and landmarks rather than enjoying amusement parks, sports and entertainment venues. Sometimes, nonetheless, something seemingly silly calls us and so it was when we chose a visit to the suburban town of Richmond when we returned to London from Scotland.

For the uninitiated Richmond is the site of the television comedy Ted Lasso. The story of the sitcom revolves around a soccer team owned by a woman embroiled in a competition with her ex husband and coached by an American who knows little or nothing about soccer.  The characters are delightful and the ultimate result of the strange arrangement pulls the people of the town together in the belief that anything is possible. 

We rode from the Embankment tube station to Richmond in a little over thirty minutes with multiple stops along the way. The Richmond station was built in the late nineteen twenties and it has a lovely art deco look that sets the mood for a stroll around a place that harks back to Tudor kings and queens. The town itself is neat and clean and filled with the same kind of friendly folks who brought so much joy to the Ted Lasso show. 

One of the batteries in Mike’s hearing aide had died while we were enroute so our first task was to find some new batteries which proved to be a bit more complicated than expected because the sizing dimensions in the UK are different from those in the USA. Fortunately there was a shop that specialized in all kinds of batteries and the manager knew exactly how to match Mike’s batteries to the ones that he had. With his assistance we were quickly on our way to explore the town. 

We soon found ourselves at a lovely park where people were enjoying the sun, walking their dogs and just strolling with friends. The site had once been used for jousting tournaments and it was surrounded by lovely high end homes that had been there for decades. We found a bench and watched the passersby and the antics of the pups exercising and fetching sticks. I expected to see members of the fictional Greyhound soccer team walk by at any moment but most of the filming for the coming season of the show is taking place elsewhere for right now. 

After enjoying some great people watching we headed over to the pub made famous by scenes from Ted Lasso where the townspeople gathered to watch soccer matches that all too often did not end well. Before going inside we continued down the narrow street to the Ted Lasso store where a variety of shirts, scarves and Ted Lasso themed merchandise is on sale.I settled for a small refrigerator magnet with Ted’s “Believe” mantra reminding me of the positive outlook that pulled the motley group together. 

We also peered into a hat shop that featured the kind of headgear that might be celebrated at a royal event or the Kentucky Derby. There was one lovely design after another tempting me to go inside but the place was closed for the day so I had to be content with only gazing through the window at the lovely creations. 

From there we found our way to the River Thames on which Queen Elizabeth I often rode to the Richmond Palace where she sometimes lived. It was filled with sea birds resting on small boats that appeared to be fitted for everything from fishing to living. Benches along the banks of the river were beckoning us to spend some time watching the life of the river flow before us but we were hungry and ready to return to the pub for some lunch. 

We quickly wound our way back to the Prince’s Head which was called the Crown and Anchor in the Ted Lasso show. Located on Richmond Green it was filled with memories of the television show including uniforms and scarves from the fictional Greyhounds. A special corner was filled with Ted Lasso paraphernalia. It was a delightful nook created with a wooden bench and lots of pillows. It felt as though the proprietors had been waiting for us to arrive. When we perused the menu we not only found exactly what we had hoped to eat but there among all of the brews was cider from New Zealand called Old Moot that I had been searching for since our last visit to London.

We settled in for a comfortable dining and drinking experience that seemed to top off our delighted joy in being there. We could have sat there for the rest of the afternoon and we did indeed spend a great deal of time savoring our feast and the moment but it was nearing the rush hour and we knew that as we rode back on the tube our coach would be filled with people going home from work. We reluctantly said goodbye to Richmond feeling the same kind of joy that we had experienced in watching the Ted Lasso show. We both agreed that we will eagerly await the new season whenever it is finally scheduled to return with an intimate feeling of what living in Richmond is acutally like.     

Planning for a big trip is critical. So much has to be done before ever leaving home but sometimes not having anything specific scheduled for a day turns out to be the very best idea. A bit of serendipity never hurts. 

So it was in Scotland. After walking the Royal Mile and visiting most of the shops we had our fill of window shopping. The tour of Edinburgh Castle was a grand memory that would last us for years. Now we had a day with nothing to do because we had been uncertain as to what might interest us among the many options that were available. 

I had read about the Royal Botanical Gardens and learned that they were free for anyone to visit. Somehow we were enchanted by the idea of strolling leisurely among nature after seeing the ingenuity of humans. Even though it was a cloudy day with a chance of a few drizzles we set out for the gardens and almost instantly knew that we had made the right choice. 

The entrance was incredibly lovely with a variety of ferns growing magnificently behind a glass wall. I literally sat for a time just staring at the wonderful specimens that reached for the roof of the building. A few steps later I learned that the old glass buildings were being refurbished after many decades of use. Even watching the video outlining the plans and the progress was so interesting.  

Eventually we walked out into the massive park filled with winding pathways and lush trees and bushes of different varieties. Because it was fall and the air was already cold most of the plants were no longer flowering but the leaves were celebrating the season with colors of yellow, orange, red and gold. It was a kind of wonderland that I never get to see in my part of the world where it never gets cold enough for seasonal color changes. It was a sight that I had longed to experience. 

We walked the entire length and width of the gardens stopping from time to time to watch the workers tending to the flowerbeds and pruning bushes. We enjoyed seeing the toddlers and babies demonstrating their sense of wonder with wide eyed curiosity. We watched couples holding hands and old people pushing their walkers down the pathways. All the while we were surrounded by the glories of nature in a quiet place that  seemed to shut out the rest of the world. 

Eventually we made our way to a little cafe at the top of a small hill where we munched on warm scones and sipped our tea and coffee. I mentioned that it smelled like rain was coming so we moved inside just as a downpour caught many visitors and soaked their clothing and hair. 

Everyone seemed so happy there. Something is magical about such a place. It shuts out politics and debates and arguments about our differences. Instead we all become united in the loveliness and peacefulness of it all. I found myself wishing that I lived there so that I might retreat there whenever the world became to much for me. Instead I reluctantly agreed that it was time to return to the hotel to gather our things to leave for the train ride back home. 

I liked the hotel where we had stayed. It was small and so were the rooms but everything was spotlessly clean and the people working there went out of their way to accommodate us. Each morning they featured a wonderful breakfast spread that energized us for the day. I felt as much at home there as I had in the botanical garden and found myself already planning to one day return. 

Soon enough we were back at the train station racing down the platform to the coach that would take us back to London. For a time we enjoyed the views of the countryside but nighttime beckoned and it became too dark to see anything but lights off in the distance. When we reached St. Pancras Station it was late and all of the shops and food stands were closed. We made our way outside to find a cab to take us back to our hotel on Northumberland near Trafalgar Square, tired but happy about the journey to Edinburgh that had gone so well.

On a cold Monday morning we gathered near St. Giles Cathedral on High Street to join our tour group led by a young man from Wisconsin. We were a motley crew of people from around the world eager to go inside Edinburgh Castle which dominates the city with its presence on Castle Rock. Ours would be a half mile hike down High Street whose full extent is known as the Royal Mile. 

We were soon moving past crowds, pipers and shops toward the iconic structure built over a thousand years ago by King Malcom II. Soon we were facing the gate which was flanked by statues of Robert the Bruce and William Wallace who were key players in the long ago Battle of Scottish independence from England. Entering the castle led us up a long sloping cobblestone elevation know as the Esplanade while our guide explained that many buildings were added over time to the main fortification that Malcolm originally built. 

We secured our audio guides but lost our tour group in the gaggle of people who were already there. I was not particularly perturbed because I was limited in how far I was able to walk before needing to rest. I suddenly appreciated tEdinburgh he idea of leisurely touring on our own. In fact, it was nearing one o’clock and the firing of the big gun which we wanted to witness. We smiled when we realized that we would have missed if we had continued upward with the tour. 

As we waited for the daily ceremony we peered into the North Sea and the incredible vistas that painted our view. The old buildings in the town looked like a fairytale creation with their colorful facades. The wind blew in our faces as we stared far into the distance imagining the sights that must have unfolded during the history of the place. It was so enchanting that I would have considered it worth the price of admission even if that had been the extent of what we would see. Luckily so much more was to come. 

Promptly at one o’clock a soldier shot the big gun and we applauded the loud boom that it made. From there we headed to the Military Museum where a sculpture of General Alexander Haig riding his horse dominated the courtyard. We talke about how Mike’s uncle had been named after the hero of World War I.Then we entered the museum and learned about the glories of the Scottish soldiers over time. 

We had lingered in the museum for well over an hour so we stopped at the nearby cafe for a small snack before continuing up the cobblestone pathway through the Foggy Gate to the Upper Ward. There we would see astounding views and and learn about the many ways that the castle had been used over time including as a prison. We marveled at St. Margaret’s Chapel. Just outside the church we saw a huge cannon known as Mons Meg. We watched the people meandering around  Crown Square the cobblestone walkway where  King James II used to stroll. Then we entered the Royal Palace where the Stuart kings and queens once lived. In the Great Hall we saw the armory of long ago soldiers in a vast room that Queen Victoria designed . We reached the Queen Anne Building and the Scottish National War Memorial at the apex of the castle grounds.  Each section was quite interesting so it was almost closing time before we began our decent to the entrance return to High Street by way of the esplanade. 

Edinburgh Castle once served as a fortress protecting the city from invaders but now it is a tourist attraction that brings thousands of people to visit each year. A special feature occurs in August when the castle is the site of a Military Tattoo featuring performances from dozens of bagpipers and bands from all over the globe. it is considered to be one of the most glorious events associated with the castle and the city. In fact, the young man who rode on the train to Edinburgh with us suggested that we should one day plan a return visit during that time of year. He assured us that it is a spectacular that we would never forget. 

Walking back into the city felt almost surreal after spending so many hours in the castle. We made our way past shops selling woolens, whiskey, purses and souvenirs. As evening came we felt the chill of autumn in the north once again and stopped in a boutique featuring fine cashmere scarves where we each purchased one that caught our eyes. They helped to keep us warmer in Scotland but I wonder if it will ever get cold enough where we live in Texas to use more than once or twice in a year.

We were hungry so we searched for a restaurant without much luck. We were not in the mood for something strange like haggis which was offered up and down he street. Instead we settled for an Italian place that had a friendly vibe where we rested our weary feet and spoke about all the marvels we had seen. While we were there our sister-in-law called and we happily told her about our adventures. It was fun sharing with her and reliving the wonderful day once again.

We returned to the hotel excited and satisfied that we had checked off one of our bucket list journeys. It was as wonderful as we had hoped and would be a cherished memory for all time. We slept like babies with visions of sweeping views and Scottish history dancing in our heads.