I OWE YOU

Driving on roundabouts makes me think of my friend Charee. Charee passed away the day before Thanksgiving this year. 

Charee did not die because her body was sick. Well, it was sick when she died, but that’s because her brain killed it. Well, that’s not true either, her brain was sick. She was a young 58 year young woman who died from complications from Alzheimer’s.

I don’t know what symptom she noticed first. Whatever it was, the result was that she left the job she loved while at a career high, moved to a new town, and never felt able to work again. She even quit playing online board games with me about a year after she left. (And we had been playing online together for more than five years. Multiple games at a time…)

During a visit to town, early in her diagnosis, she made a short stop at her old job. 

Afterwards, I took her out for coffee. (Greg trusted me for twenty whole minutes to not lose her.)

That’s when she told me the roundabout story. Before her formal diagnosis, she was driving in her hometown, she found herself in a roundabout and couldn’t figure out where or how to pull off. As she drove around and around she got more and more panicked. As I recall her telling, she pulled over and called her son to help her. Which, of course, being the great son that he is, he did.

This conversation happened just six years ago.

I was lucky enough to visit her in Spokane twice. The first time, was not even three years later. She seemed to recognize me, and knew my name. (I was later told me that she had been “prepared” for my visit. They might have even showed her a photograph.) We walked a few laps around the interior of the facility, then we thought it might be nice to go outside. I noticed her hesitancy. We went to her room to switch out of her slippers into real shoes. There was a keypad to the door to get to the hallway from the main building to her room, the locked doors protected residents from “wandering.” Once in her room, she pointed to her shoes, sat down in her chair and stuck her feet out at me. After a moment, I realized she wasn’t kidding. I took a shaky breath to keep me from crying, and I changed her shoes. We walked around outside a bit. I pointed out a resident’s window filled with solar flowers, dancing back and forth. Charee smiled.

We returned to the facility and as we sat on a couch by the front door, I asked her if she was scared. And then she started to cry. She quickly stopped herself and changed the subject to other things. I told her stores of former co-workers, with each story she smiled and gave a little laugh. When I was describing one of them by “reminding” her of their spouse’s name, she snapped at me in good humor, “I know who he is Marla! I haven’t completely lost everything yet.” And she laughed, breaking the tension.

For the past many months, she has been mostly unresponsive. When I went to see her the summer of 2019, I knew it would be for the last time. I found her in the solarium, waiting for, what? Lunch. Did she even know why she was here, if she even knew where “here” was?

                                            I was holding her hand with one hand, I swear she 

                                            was nodding her hand "yes" when I asked her if 

                                            she was going to kick my ass at the gym.

By then, she basically had no use of her hands or legs, and was leaning back in a reclining wheelchair. She had lost language. I saw a spark of recognition in her eyes. Did she know me? Have a faint memory. Or did she think I was bringing lunch?

Before she left Whatcom County ten years ago, we had gone out to lunch together. We knew at that point that she was leaving her job, and that I was headed into some very intense surgical procedure. At the end of the meal, she grabbed the check. I looked at her in shock, and she said, “you pay next time.” I told her I would owe her forever. That day, in solarium I challenged her to kicking my butt in the gym. I leaned over and said in her ear “I’m here to take you to lunch. I owe you, remember?” And she laughed.

I decided to share this on social media, even though it's a personal reflection. There are folks who follow this page who might know my friend Charee. If you did know her, then you know that when Charee had your back, you could never fail. If you didn't know her, maybe you have (or are) a friend like that. When Alzheimers came for her, her level of strength and joy was never diminished. I know her passing brought her peace.

She was one of the people who supported me emotionally from diagnosis of my acoustic neuroma, to treatment, to writing my book. When she was on KAFE radio at the end of 2010, she and her on-air partner Dave welcomed me to talk about GIMMEAMINUTE on the radio. They even got their own Minute for being Role Models. (sorry about the auto captioning...) I have those audio files but they're about  ten minutes long. I basically talked about myself and did the Role Model minute live and in person.

Charee got her own Shari's Minute for it being her last week on KAFE.

I will miss her spirit. Godspeed dear friend. I will hold your memory with me always.

For Bette

About two years ago, I started regularly reaching out to people to let them know how I felt about them. This is how it started. One at a time for every day for a week, then randomly. It’s been since April and that WAY TOO LONG.

When the email came this morning, letting me know the health diagnosis, I simultaneously caught my breath in panic and in gratitude. Because I don’t have to wait for the email telling me another long time friend has passed away to make me conjure up fond memories.

I can tell you right now, because every one of your minutes should be filled with nothing but love and light coming your way. I have known you since I was in the 2nd grade. I was probably 8 or 9 when you were divorced and moved away with my best friend and the others. It was the first time I had a long distance friend.

That relationship with you that I had at such an impressionable age was life-changing. You were the first “cool mom” i ever knew and I learned a lot about “being” from you.

Your daughter was the first person I ever knew with hearing loss. The impact of that on me is beyond comprehension, as I have worked with the Deaf community for years and now also suffer hearing loss as an adult.

Your parents were the most generous strangers I ever was blessed to visit.

Your tenacity and strength was (and remains) inspiring.

Words are not enough, but thank you. I wish you peace and good health.

Ken

I appreciate you Ken.
After 32 years married, more than 34 years together, I can say we have had our ups and our downs. I am most grateful that when we hit bottom, you didn’t run for cover and we are stronger than ever.

For Deb

I think that the cold has potential to make some people cranky.

Twice in the past four days I was outside for more than 30 minutes and I was FREEZING. I couldn’t feel my fingers for almost an hour. When did I become such a wimp?

I was thinking back to elementary school in New York, and I SWEAR TO GOD we played outside during recess. Granted, it was almost 15 minutes, but it was five days a week.

So this Minute came to mind.

https://marlasgimmeaminute.wordpress.com/2010/01/31/hows-the-weather/

Which interestingly enough was one of the first minutes, if not The first minute, I did for you when GimmeAMinute first showed up on ENW.

I remembered today you put me on studio schedule for the month following my surgery.

It was 8 years ago today, I was back in the studio. this was one of those minutes.

https://marlasgimmeaminute.wordpress.com/2010/06/07/thanks-for-the-minute/

But this is one of my favorites….
https://marlasgimmeaminute.wordpress.com/2010/06/27/get-your-stopwatch-out-of-my-face/

I love you forever Deb, for making that possible for me.

For Julie

WHY THIS?
http://qoatip.blogspot.com/2018/01/happier-new-year.html

Julie, you are truly special. You have worked so hard for so long to crawl from where you were to fight and struggle and grow to get where you are in this moment.

And so normal. Warts and all. Still on the journey.

Thank you for sharing your journey, your candidness, your honesty. You help me to think about what others may have gone through to get where they are in that moment. You inspire me on my own journey.

Thank you for your unconditional love and inspiration.

FOR MELIDA

It doesn’t hurt that it’s your birthday. (or does it hurt?) ;-)

Don’t make that face…I’m still older than you.

You are one of my dearest, most consistent, systemically funny, kind, sensitive, organized friends. Ok, maybe you are the most organized…

And you love deeper and you love forever. This way of being has influenced me.

Even though we live far apart, I hope you know that I am always a phone call away to listen, and a plane flight away for anytime you need me.

Happy Birthday sweet friend! <3

For Brittany

I’m sorry to bother you.

I really have missed our weekly “workouts.” I don’t know if you know how much of a difference you have made in my physical life. I would have sent you a friend request, but I didn’t want to overstep or assume.

I would have gushed about you more in my article (did you ever see that?) but I didn’t want to overstep.

But I have been thinking about you. Especially the past two days. I apparently overstepped and messed up my ankle again. I don’t even remember if its the same one I messed up before the wedding (remember you fixed it so I could wear those 2” heels without ANY pain…

So I just looked through all my notes and I found the stretches and exercises you drew for me to keep my ankle healthy. It was one of the many you drew so lovingly (yes, I have EVERY. SINGLE. ONE.) The one I specifically asked you to set up with stretches and exercises for my writing days is on top of the clipboard. I mostly do them and have been doing very well. Except for my ankle. Which I think I messed up in my BodyCombat class.

Yes. Still working out at the gym…

So thank you again, and I really hope you could read between the lines in my article how grateful I am for you.

For Uncle Joel

The first few weeks of 2018 were painful. Friends and family lost family and friends. I have attended twice as many funerals this year already than I did last year.

It is time to turn this year around.

I recently attended a meeting with the Hearing Loss Association and the speaker, Melanie Cool (can I tell you how much I love her name?) talked about the importance of three concepts that will help you find your way to happy. Which I didn't write down, so, with my horrible memory, I had to search on line to find the 3. 1. Gratitude (duh) 2. Zest for life. (yes!) and #3 being "Hope."

She also talked about how to reframe “I can’t” into “I can.”

So I got lost in my thoughts about one thing I can’t do.

I can’t go to one more funeral this year. Ok, so I don't WANT to, if I HAVE to, I will. Because I know I can’t personally keep that from happening. I’m not in charge of that part of the universe. What I CAN do, is tell people who are still here how much they mean to me before it’s too late for me to write or talk, or for them to read or hear me.

(Of course, if you are reading this, you ARE one of those who means much to me. Even if you don’t think we are “that” close, you are taking time to read this now, so I at the very least, appreciate you giving me a minute.)

Whatever, for seven days, every day, I wrote to a handful of strangers, friends and family, with whatever sentiment I wanted/needed to tell them before it's "too late." These were things as superficial as a Facebook comment that included a recipe that I was grateful for, or something more profound, like their being in my life changed my life…

I was able to do this before we lost Bill. I called him and told him the things I needed to say to him. I promised I would be there for Lisette and the boys, and I know it gave him comfort.

It takes seven repeats of something to make it a habit. (or is it three? Or a month?) I’m still at it.

Today is your day…. This is for you.

It doesn’t hurt that it’s your birthday. (or does it hurt?) ;-)

One of my first memories of you was when you were in the army and you came to visit us and brought Craig and me a leather fringe jacket and t-shirts from Fort Bragg. Another gift I remember is a small red garnet-like ring. (is it a ruby maybe?) I don’t know when you gave it to me, how old I was, or whether it was too big or too small for me to wear when you did. Do you remember that? Would you believe I still have that ring? I never could wear it, and I just couldn’t let it go. It’s in my jewelry box that I see about every day. And every day, it makes me think of you.

You are my favorite relative. At one time or another, I’ve loved you more than I loved any other uncle, aunt, cousin, sibling and/or parent.

Having known you all my life, I realize how little of that time we have spent together talking in person or over the phone, but I know for me, the time is very special.

I dread the day you are not a phone call away. I know it will happen.

Loyalty and commitment to family is something I learned from you, I observed your consistency in action, and it meant so much to me in my life.

I want you to know that until my last breath, I will love you, your girls and boys to my core, and I will be there for all of you whenever you ask.

For Abby

Today is your day…. This is for you.

Since the first time we met at Temple Ramat Zion and you and Nina invited me to come sit with your family, my feelings of gratitude and appreciation towards all of you have been completely unconditional.

You, Abby, were always the “smart one.”

I felt silly and vapid next to you, and you never made me feel that way.

Even thought it was never the three or four of us on a regular basis, when first you lost Nina, and then Marjorie, I felt as if I needed to wrap you in my heart and protect you from any more hurt.

Of course, I suck at that...

To this day, I am in awe of you. I don’t think you do what you do for any other reason that you just seem to always be able to put one foot forward and keep moving and trying to make the world better. Even when you are stuck (do you ever get stuck?) you rally. Personally, I appreciate you for what you continue to do for women, for marginalized members of the Jewish community, and for your family. You are my hero.

In the face of all of your devastating losses, you have continued to inspire me to do better and be a better person.

For Lisette

This is for you.

It is sorta weird, since your loss is one of the things that prompted this exercise in the first place.

But today, I want to focus on you, who you are to me, and why I love and appreciate you so much (beyond the 50 reasons you already should know…..)

You are not my youngest cousin, but you are the first cousin I ever held in my arms as a baby. You were mine, more than my sisters were mine. For the first few years of your life, I saw you A LOT because, well, because that’s how it was done way back then. I never had to change your diaper ( ;-) ) so the magic and mystery remains.

You are still very magic to me. Your ability to connect with people is inspiring. Your ability to focus your strength is equally balanced by your ability to express your raw emotions. I always admire that in you.

The physical distance between us and your busy life with the boys has kept me from imposing on your home on a regular basis, but looking back, I realize I have spent as much time, if not more time, in your presence in the past five years as I have with any other member of my immediate family. I appreciate that you opened your home and your heart to me in such a difficult time.

I will always be here for you. I am a text, a phone call, a plane, bus or car ride away.

I love you always sweet cousin.

For Gail

Happy Anniversary!!!

This is for you.

You are my oldest (read “longest lasting”) and dearest friend. That is no small task, given we have remained friends while we live across the country from one another. We have lived apart nearly four times as long as we lived in the same time zone. When we are together, or when we talk, whether it’s a week, a month or a year, even with catching up, is as if no time has passed and we are comfortable together. (at least, you always make me feel comfortable…)

You know just about everything about me…all of my family, all of my boyfriends. You were there when I got married. You and I have never had an argument (that I am aware of) and that is a major milestone. I argue with EVERYONE at least once!

You are more than my friend, you are the sister of my heart…as different as we are, as multi-talented and artistic as you are, you never make me feel inadequate. You are my hero, you are my rock.

Love you always, my dear friend.

This is for Cindy Smooch

As one of my oldest (read “long term”) friends, we have a lot of history. I hold in my heart complete gratitude for you being my friend when we were teenagers (and I was the awkward one, you were the cool one) and all the time we spent together your last year in high school.

The universe seemed to feel it was important for us to cross paths after that…first in downtown LA which led me to live in my coolest apartment in Long Beach. Years (ages) after that I found you again here in Bellingham.

We were together for broken hearts and broken relationships..parenting woes and joys..and continue to this day with Issues with siblings and parents.

Even though we rarely see each other (and usually, that’s to celebrate birthdays…ahem…) After all these years, after all that we have been through, apart and together…your friendship and our history is very dear to me.

This is for Daniela Giles - I don't even know you.

This is for you. I don't even know you.

Earlier this year, I joined a FB Low Carb group. This WOE* (Way of Eating) has helped me lose 30 lbs since May. Today was an “off day” but for the most part, I’m pretty good about this and eat meals and keep snacks to “on program.”

But oh, how I have missed my sushi.

Now, anyone who knows me, knows that I do not believe that cream cheese belongs within a football field of sushi. I don’t recall seeing any “California Rolls” when I was in Tokyo many years ago. but then, mostly I ate raw fish w/o rice at all…

But I digress.

Today, Daniela posted a link to Keto Sushi and I will be forever grateful, as riced cauliflower has been my BFF for months now. I’m even willing to try it with the cream cheese to bind the rice.

Thank you Daniela. You have taught me to think outside the box. And my next trick will be to make low carb PAELLA!!

Happier New Year

The first few weeks of 2018 were painful. Friends and family lost family and friends. I have attended twice as many funerals this year already than I did last year.

It is time to turn this year around.

I attended a meeting with the Hearing Loss Association just yesterday and the speaker, Melanie Cool (can I tell you how much I love her name?) talked about the importance of three concepts that will help you find your way to happy. Which I didn't write down, so, with my horrible memory, I had to search on line to find the 3. 1. Gratitude (duh) 2. Zest for life. (yes!) and #3 being "Hope."

She also talked about how to reframe “I can’t” into “I can.”

So I got lost in my thoughts about one thing I can’t do.

I can’t go to one more funeral this year. Ok, so I don't WANT to, if I HAVE to, I will. Because I know I can’t personally keep that from happening. I’m not in charge of that part of the universe. What I CAN do, is tell people who are still here how much they mean to me. Of course, if you are reading this, you ARE one of those who means much to me. Even if I don’t “know you” personally, you are taking time to read this now, so I at the very least, appreciate you giving me a minute.

It takes seven repeats of something to make it a habit. (or is it three? Or a month?) Whatever, for the next seven days, every day, I will be writing to friends and family, with whatever sentiment I want/need to tell them before it's "too late." I hope I get to your personal note before it's too late.