All It Takes Is A Little Love

This has been a difficult week for me which may seem counterintuitive given that I will be embarking on a dream trip this weekend. I suspect that I am reacting to old ghosts that I hide from the rest of the world most of the time. The feelings that have gut punched me this week have been a long time in coming and it somehow became important to finally let them our rather than stifling them like I have always been prone to do. 

I have not hidden my concern for the health of our nation and its democracy. From day one I have been appalled by so many things that our president, Donald Trump, has done. From my vantage point he is neither a hero nor an inspiring leader. Instead he reminds me of a petulant child who somehow believes that he has been given permission to bully anyone who dares to question what he is doing. The last many months since his inauguration have been exceedingly difficult for me because I have witnessed the cruelty that he espouses on a daily basis and I often wonder in the dead of night why so many Americans seem to be oblivious to the danger that he poses for our nation. 

I was disturbed by the assassination of Charlie Kirk on so many levels. I am not a violent person and I believe that most people are not. My feelings exploded into a confused mess of reactions starting with a feeling of knowing how horrific his death will be for his wife and his children. My personal experience of suddenly losing my father when he was only thirty three years old was devastating. I witnessed my mother’s grief and perhaps the beginning of a breakdown that would present itself in full blown bipolar disorder twelve years later. I remembered thinking that eight year old me had to forever take care of my little brothers who were only five and two years old. All of the old demons rose up inside me and I grieved for Charlie Kirk’s family and for my nation. 

I felt overwhelming disappointment as our president used this horrific occasion to strike out against anyone in our nation who did not feel a connection to either him or Charlie Kirk. His intent was to divide us even more than we already were. He stoked the flames of anger and outrage with accusations that did nothing to lower the temperature at a time when it would have been so appropriate to do so. He dishonored the very man whom he was purporting to honor. He even went so far as to distort the character and message of the late night talk show host and comedian, Jimmy Kimmel, by ascribing his own kind of hateful thinking to Kimmel. 

I never stayed up late enough to watch Jimmy Kimmel’s show but my understanding has always been that he is a kind soul. Even his response to Charlie Kirks’ death in an online post was a lovely note to Charlie’s family. Kimmell understood the enormity of loss that they were feeling. When he later did a monologue his comments were aimed at those attempting to divide our nation by insinuating that anyone other than a very disturbed young man had been behind the killing. That was it. There was no ugliness but the president insisted that there was and furthermore went after not only Jimmy Kimmel, but anyone else who dares to voice beliefs that counter his own. 

I think that if there is one sacred right of all citizens of the United States it is free speech. Each of us should be able to voice opinions without fear of retribution, but that does not seem to be the way Trump thinks. Kimmel was taken from his show and others were warned that they were next. It was low point in our democracy.

Then came the memorial for Charlie Kirk this past weekend when his widow, Erika, expressed her forgiveness for the young man who had killed her husband. I was quite moved by her graciousness and recalled the words of Jesus Himself as he was dying on the cross, “Father, forgive them. They know not what they do.” For Donald Trump to follow the grieving widow with a tirade of hatefulness and self pity while the individuals gathered for the memorial  applauded, was sickening. What should have been a moment for healing became a sideshow for Trump to air his grievances. 

I can’t even begin to enumerate the feelings that I have experienced as Trump continued his tirades this past week at a press conference claiming a link between the use of acetaminophen during pregnancy to autism followed by a deragned harangue at the Untied Nations. Perhaps some unknown observer had it right when he or she texted that our president is “stark raving nuts.”

I have witnessed friends worrying that they will be persecuted because of their beliefs and life styles. I have seen a kind of fear that never before existed in our country. All of it smoldered inside of me until I stayed up late to watch Jimmy Kimmel’s return to his show on Tuesday evening. On that night I saw a man who was still defiant but overcome by the fact that his character had been so misunderstood and maligned. He was supported by crowds both inside and outside of the studio but he was fragile because his reputation had been so unfairly besmirched. He understood how dangerous speaking out has become and he worried for our nation. At the same time he wanted us all to adopt Erika Kirk’s redemptive feelings of forgiveness lest we lose our nation to the rampant hate that is festering in the hearts of those who want only to dominate. 

Just as Dr. Robby did in the last episodes of The Pitt, I finally let my emotions run free. I went to my bathroom and sobbed. It was a moment long in coming. I cried for my country. I cried for those who are under attack by the very man who should be protecting and consoling us all. I cried for Erika Kik and her children. I cried that our shining city on the hill has come to a point of ridicule. I cried that we seem so quick to misunderstand each other all because a little insecure boy who at almost eighty years old never grew up to be a man. I even cried that Donald Trump is so broken and wondered what had made him so. Then I pulled myself together and knew that I would carry on because everything that I love is at stake.  

When I was a young child I learned about greed when my father read to me a fairytale about a fisherman who caught a magic fish. Most youngsters have heard the story of how the fish offered to give the man whatever he wanted if only he would agree to throw the fish back into the water. At first the fisherman, who was quite poor, only desired a better home with enough food to keep him and his wife from starving. Upon returning from his fishing trip he found his wife beaming in front of a nice little house where a pot of stew was cooking on the stove. When he told his wife about what had happened she was quite excited and happy but over time she grew dissatisfied with her “just enough” life and demanded that her husband catch the magic fish again and insist on a bigger place with better furnishings and more varieties of food in the pantry. 

True to his word the fisherman tried and tried to recapture the magic fish and one day it happened again. He and the fish made a new deal that involved improving the fisherman’s abode and lifestyle. When he went home he was amazed at how large his new living quarters were and how many wonderful accoutrements it held. His wife was excited as well and for a time the two of them revelled in their good fortune but again and again she would ask for more money and more power and each time the magic fish would fulfill her wishes. Finally she asked for too much and when the fisherman went back home he was greeted by a hungry wife standing in front of the old hovel. 

We have had many moments in history when greedy folks did not seem able to get enough. Often, but not always, they pushed too far and ended up in ashes. I witnessed such a thing in my hometown of Houston with the company called Enron. At one time it was considered to be the most innovative and exceptional business in the country. What most of those viewing the company did not know is that it housed a toxic culture that hid a house of cards that was bound to fail.

The employees of Enron were some of the best and brightest individuals in the country. From the start they were pitted with each other in a drive to make more and more money. They even got to decide who in their group was not producing enough and needed to be fired. Those at the highest levels were willing to do anything to keep bringing in more and more cash including cooking the accounting books to appear to be in better shape than the business was. They took enormous risks and recorded future profits on their bottom line before the money had actually materialized. With dirty tricks, a total lack of integrity, and a willingness to stab customers and each other in the back lots of phony money was being made on Wall Street while in truth little was actually coming in. 

The crash and total destruction of Enron took only twenty four days leaving employees, customers, investors and the people who had trusted and touted them in ashes. Arthur Anderson, the oldest accounting firm in the country collapsed. Ordinary workers lost their life savings and their retirement accounts. Those who had created the mess had managed to cash in their stock before the fall, leaving with millions of dollars but their reputations were tarnished and many of them ended up in jail. One committed suicide and the man who had founded the company had a heart attack and died before he went to trial. The city of Houston suffered in ways that will never be forgotten. Even athletic stadiums had to be renamed. 

Of course it was greed that created the Enron monster but greed has never gone away in spite of incidents such as the fall of a huge company that should have been a warning. Later our nation would undergo a nationwide scandal with the housing market that toppled banks and left the real estate market in shambles. It was as though nobody had learned a thing.

In a way what is emanating from the White House these days has a familiar feel. We have wealthy people fawning over President Trump as though he is the second coming. They bring him gold plated gifts and pledges of working with him all for the promise that he will not raise their taxes amd will approve their business deals. To keep the funds coming into the treasury the president has decided to raise money with tariffs that are jolting the American people in horrific ways. Small businesses are reeling. Prices are rising. At the same time the president has increased his personal bottom line many times over. Greed has taken over once again and my concern is that history has demonstrated over and over again that it is a poison that sooner or later destroys. The so called businessman named Trump is already causing chaos in the economy and ultimately it will hurt the common citizen much more than the billionaires. This new iteration of greediness seems doomed from the outset. 

I don’t know why we ordinary people get duped over and over again. I don’t know why we fall for dangerous ideas when economists and learned people can see the storm coming. We simply do not listen because the charlatans make us believe that we too will get rich from their schemes. i tend to follow the old saw that the buyer must beware. Right now my instincts tell me that we should all be concerned.  

“We are all a little broken but the last time I checked broken crayons color just the same as whole ones.” —Unknown

I have taught so many young people, many of whom seemed ready to take on the world with competence and wisdom. Others stumbled and fumbled and appeared to be destined for a world of trouble. Most of them rambled through their twenties on a quest to find themselves and to my great delight they were almost always successful. 

There have been many studies about human development that suggest that our brains are still forming well into our twenties. That does not mean that we will be a hot mess until the evolution is mostly complete but it does suggest that we may make mistakes as we chart our courses in life. Somehow as we grow older we often forget about our own mistakes in our youth and focus a kind of unfair judgement on the young men and women just starting down the road of adulting. 

We’ve all heard older folk lamenting the flaws of today’s twenty something men and women. They boast about the work ethic and accomplishments they achieved at the same age, condemning anyone in that age group today who is struggling to find themselves. They often forget their own dramas or brush them under the rug where they think that nobody can see them. Instead I would suggest that we encourage young adults, boost their belief in themselves, consider the hardships they may be facing, and help them to learn from any mistakes we may perceive that they are making. 

I know a man who has many skeletons in his own closet that most people are polite enough not to mention. He was ranting about a young woman that he once knew who was neurotic, lazy and wanting in common sense. He remarked that he never felt comfortable around her and ended up pushing her away when she came to him looking for help.

What he does not tell is the whole story of their relationship. She was only twenty four and he was in his late forties. She was a relative by marriage who had lost her father to a heart attack and not long after that had watched her mother die from cancer. She became so overwrought that she ended up divorcing her husband, something that was probably destined from the start given that both of them had been far to young when they eloped. Her lifeboat came in the form of a sweet and kindly aunt who kept her door open for the young niece. When that aunt died of a heart attack one Sunday morning the young woman broke. 

She spent a great deal of time doing exactly the wrong things. She was unmoored, without direction and seeking solace from someone, anyone who would listen, including the man who spurned her. He was convinced that she was a loser who just meant trouble for everyone and so he broke off all contact with her and then continued over the years to complain about what a disappointment she had been. 

As happenstance often does, I encountered the woman many years later when she was in her fifties. She had pulled herself together, earning a college degree and becoming a highly respected teacher. Eventually she was even tapped for administrative work. I witnessed the transformation that she had undergone. She became confident and responsible most likely because she had found someone who believed in her and also because she had matured. 

As a teacher who keeps in touch with many of my students I have seen such transformations over and over again. Not everyone finds their way without stumbling and many of their pitfalls can be dangerously traumatic. Coursing through the twenties with images of how one should be is not always as smooth sailing as we sometimes wish it to be. Some of the most successful and happiest people made countless bad moves during those early years. With a bit of luck they manage to learn from their mistakes. In fact, they become better versions of themselves than the ones that they had once believed they should be. 

We all have stories of blowing it in relationships or with jobs. We get ourselves into corners and situations that break our spirits. It happens to virtually everyone so we should remember how it feels whenever someone comes to us seeking a bit of kindness. It is not a time to be judge and jury when we learn of someone’s mistakes. Instead we might simply show them that we understand and we care. The road to healing lies in the arms and goodwill of the people around us. We each have the power to show the broken souls how beautiful their colors remain.

I once considered becoming a doctor but decided not to follow that road for multiple reasons. I became a teacher instead and so I don’t dispense medical advice to people other than in generalities. I mostly tell individuals to find a doctor with outstanding credentials who is respected among his or her peers. While a well meaning person sometimes provides me with ideas of how to treat this or that ailment I usually find that asking my primary care physician what measures to take leads to far better outcomes than if I google my symptoms and attempt to self diagnose what is going on with me. 

I worked during the summer for a doctor many moons ago when I was still in high school. I vividly remember the time that he called me into his office and counseled me to call a physician before getting myself upset by any scary pains I might one day feel. Above all he insisted that I never simply rely on the uneducated advice of a neighbor or friend or relative to treat myself. He told me that people quite often assume that they know exactly what a sick person needs to feel better but that deciding on a plan for care is complex and requires lots of critical tests to determine a true diagnosis. 

I remembered his wise words over the years even as I sometimes attempted to resist the impulse to call a doctor thinking that if I just waited a bit things might resolve themselves. Once that led me to walking around with hepatitis risking the health of others that I encountered. It was actually my good neighbor who literally insisted that either I call my doctor or she would do so. I ended up being far sicker than I imagined and it would be three months before my ordeal was finally resolved because I had waited so long. 

I’ve sadly done that in other instances as well like thinking that I might end the pain in my knees with exercises found on the Internet. Not until I was feeling like a cripple did I contact an orthopedic specialist who lessened the paint with shots and then directed me to physical therapy. The results have been so positive that I no longer worry that I will forever doomed to a wheelchair. 

I mention these things not because I do not believe in the advice that doctors give me, but because I sometimes think that my complaints are too minor to bother them. That’s when I listen to the old wive’s tails that generally never work. By the time I get to a doctor’s office I am worse off than I needed to be. 

I suppose that many are like me but I have watched my father-in-law stay unbelievably healthy by following the advice of doctors to the letter. His entire daily routine is determined by the instructions that his many doctors have given him. He never varies, never falters and never allows any change in the way he is feeling to fester until it gets worse. He alerts his doctors immediately and they have literally saved him from death multiple times because of his diligence. At the age of ninety six he is in better shape than many of my younger friends.

I have thought about all of this when I listen to the fantastical medical thinking of Robert F. Kennedy Jr. who has been tapped to be a leader in assuring the health of the people of the United States. What bothers me is that he only has ideas, no training in medicine or science, no degrees in those areas. He simply has done what he calls a great deal of reading and talking to people with alternative ideas that he believes should radically change the general practices of medicine in our nation. In other words he is little better than the neighbor who thinks she knows better that my doctors or the Internet advice that I use without actually knowing the exact problem with which I am dealing. Those of us who rely on folk remedies are fools.

Kennedy is well known for his debunked theories about vaccines including the erroneous idea that they are causing autism in young children. He does not believe in germ theory but harbors a long deserted idea that good health can be had by anyone who eats properly and exercises regularly, ignoring the reality that sometimes even the healthiest among uus contract diseases that cannot be treated by lifestyle alone. 

One area where Kennedy and I totally disagree involves the treatment of mental illness. He seems to think that the mentally ill should be sent away to farms where their minds will be calmed by doing the manual labor of growing fresh vegetables and fruits. He insists that such programs will heal them more quickly than administering medications. He is unwilling to take into account the fact that many people like my mother are able to lead relatively normal lives with properly supervised medicines. I have seen the miracle of such things with her and I doubt that she would have been able to work full time until she reached retirement age without them. I know for certain that she would have felt betrayed if we had sent her away to a farm. 

Kennedy is not willing to admit that many people died of Covid because they chose not to accept the vaccines that became available. He does not seem to understand that no doctor ever said that the vaccines would prevent Covid but that they would better protect the individual if they came down with the virus. As it happened there were some people who did not make it in spite of being vaccinated but that sort of thing happens with many different types of treatments for everything from cancer to heart disease. There will always be humans who do not react the same as the majority when it comes to medications or treatments. Sometimes people die in spite of the efforts of the doctors who treat them. My brother for example has a compromised immune system and tests showed that the vaccines did not create immunity in him the way they did for me.

We have some of the finest doctors and scientists in the world in this country. One of them should be in charge of the nation’s health, not a hack who peddles misinformation. Robert F. Kennedy Jr. is a danger to us all and Congress should impeach him and refuse to vote for anyone to replace him who peddles dangerous theories. We can and should do better than that for the sake of us all but most especially for our children. 

As I write this we are knee deep in planning for a big trip to celebrate my husband Mikes’ successful radiation treatments for his prostate cancer. Five weeks of tests and preparations led to eight weeks of radiation therapy five days each week. It was exciting for both of us when he rang the bell at the beginning of August. It had been a long journey to that moment that even included cataract surgery for me. When all seemed to be going well Mike announced that he wanted to return to London, his favorite city on the planet. I was more than eager to fulfill his wishes, so we got busy purchasing flights, reserving hotels and booking times at all kinds of interesting places. Our tour will include side trips to Edinburgh, Scotland and Paris, France as well as day trips to Greenwich, Richmond and Windsor. We will be on our way on September 28, God willing and if the creek don’t rise.

The truth is that so many things might go wrong. We have reserved respite care for Mike’s father at a wonderful place in the Heights of Houston but he could become seriously ill and the whole plan would collapse. For that matter at our ages Mike or I have the potential to become unable to travel, not to mention that Houston is well known for torrential downpours that flood the city and shut everything down. With a bit of good luck none of that will happen and we will be a couple of giddy seniors enjoying our first venture over the pond in six years. We were scheduled for Scotland in 2020 but we all know how Covid ended all of those kind of dreams. We’ve been waiting patiently for a moment that seemed rather elusive until now so our fingers and toes are crossed. 

There is so much in London that we have not yet seen. Big Ben was almost invisible with scaffolding when we were last there. We never had time to visit Parliament or to have a proper tea time at Fortnum and Mason. I’ll be living a dream when we see Phantom of the Opera in the West End theater district where it premiered fifty years ago. If we can fit it in, we might to go see The Mousetrap as well which holds the record for the longest continuous run of over seventy years. Hopefully we might additionally catch an Eventide service at Westminster Abbey. 

I’m particularly excited about going to Scotland. I have many ancestors from there and I’ve actually had a person or two ask me if I am Scottish. There will be more to do in Edinburgh than we will have the time to explore, but we have set aside an entire day for the castle and it’s surrounding area. A little shopping along the Royal Mile sounds enticing and hopefully we will get that Harry Potter feeling in the quaint shops and pubs. I won’t be satisfied unless we hear a bagpiper or two. I have a feeling that I won’t want to leave but Paris will be calling.

We plan to arise early one morning when we are back in London and ride the high speed train that will get us to Paris in two and a half hours. My number one request is to see the rebuilt Notre Dame Cathedral. I have yearned to see it for most of my life and especially so since the fire. Of course Mike and I will walk along the Seine River and we already have reservations for the Louvres. I suppose we will at least go look at the Eiffel Tower and maybe the gardens at Versailles but I would prefer munching goodies in the bakeries and wandering along interesting streets. 

We chose visiting Richmond for a rather silly reason simply because it was the site of one of our favorite television series, Ted Lasso. Aside from that there is much to do there. The town has a long history that includes the time of Henry VIII. They also boast a beautiful botanical garden that I don’t intend to miss. It will be a nice way to see a part of England that is interesting and only twenty seven minutes aways from London by train. 

We may visit the home of Charles Dickens or the Sherlock Holmes museum. I’m a huge fan of Dickens’ novels and the mysteries of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. From what I surmise they will be short diversions that may be lots of fun. If time permits I am always game for visiting the Churchill War Rooms one more time. There is so much there that I’m certain I missed a great deal the last time I visited. I also want to spend some time at the markets and chilling out at a pub sipping on a bottle of cider. I’m a one drink wonder so there is no worry that I’ll overdo. I want to walk along the Thames or visit Saville Row and find the building where the Beatles had their last performance on the roof. 

So wish us luck. I am hopeful that we will be able to pull this off without a hitch this time. I’ve learned to plan well but be ready for the unexpected. Somehow that seems to be a big part of life when you reach my age. Watch for pictures and stories if I make it.