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Archive for the ‘ Uncategorized ’ Category
It seems we are putting in more and more effort these days trying to distance ourselves from anyone and anything – or, should that be everyone and everything? – that we are now ill-equipped to do anything at all but the ordinary, mundane, routine. Unfortunately for this strategy of political correctness, “life” is bigger than us and seems to take great delight in upsetting our plans. But, we no longer have the tools to cope with real issues; instead of putting on a raincoat, or grabbing an umbrella, we turn around and go back inside.
Ironically, all the latest and greatest technology is making data more accessible – more data, faster – and making our fellows more inaccessible. We no longer know how to converse with each other. Not the idiotic prattle that is the grist of the social media; but topics of substance.
But, there are opportunities to connect, if we want to take advantage of them. And so, one way to look at the birth of the Twins could be as a chance to easily come together. For those of us (in my family) who need a reason to try to move closer, rather than find excuses to move further apart, it would seem to me that a birth, rather than a death is a very comfortable venue. Nothing threatening, like a funeral – what do you say about someone you don’t know at all well, to someone you don’t know at all well? However, babies!
So, the reaction of my family – mother, two brothers, a sister and a female cousin – of my recent “life event” caught me by surprise. For that matter, the reactions of co-workers and prayer group members also left me scratching my head.
First, the co-workers. Two co-workers drove an hour from their homes to ours to visit. And, being roughly my age, they even brought gifts – something that is, in itself, unusual in this day and age. One co-worker, worked the night shift, grabbed a couple of hours of sleep, made the visit, fed the twins, went back home, some more sleep, then back to work (these are twelve-hour shifts, by the way). The other coworker came with his wife, they spent about three hours feeding and changing and holding. That’s the good news; it’s all downhill from here.
At the usual Friday Night meeting (last week), I specifically told my prayer group to come by and hold babies. That was a week ago. And that’s the end of that story.
My wife, who will return to her therapeutic message business next month, had three clients stop by while she was in the hospital recovering. One came with his six-year old daughter, but clearly didn’t know what to say (but he came, and with a delicious chocolate cake, I might add). Another came with flowers and stayed and talked. Another came three times, and even went to the airport to pick up my mother-in-law who flew in from overseas. These people I met for the first time, they couldn’t have been nicer.
The cousin texted that, while she and her husband wanted to come and visit while “we” were in the hospital, said that she had a migraine. That was three weeks ago. Well, at least she said she wanted to come.
I’ve heard nothing from one brother, tho his wife did send an email asking for photos.
I did get an email from another brother, whose wife has since had a double transplant (pancreas and kidney, yeah: diabetes). Kudos, everything considered. (I presume my sister-in-law is “doing fine,” though even with my mother and sister on-site – and Salt Lake City is not just down the road from Seattle – I have no information. Yes, I have specifically asked.)
My sister, who lives all of a mile away…. Well, I should stop there.
My mother – the grandmother of my kids …. Well, I should stop there.
My point is not to throw stones at anyone, even if it is my family that should be running for cover. My point is that it seems to me that a birth would be a great opportunity for what is obviously a very dysfunctional family. A great opportunity to find an answer to the ever-gnawing question of “what can we do, what can we say, to what, bury the hatchet, mend the fence/bridge???” Obviously, the question has been gnawing only in me.
Someday, there will be a funeral; statistically, it will be my mother’s, of course. And, my two brothers and one sister and I will gather together and not be able to say anything at all to each other, no matter how infinitesimal, no matter how trivial, no matter how forgettable.
Yes, it is true I should be saying all this to my family. Yes, it is true I am saying none of it to my family. My wife, who does read my blog, and I have already talked.
No, I am not desperate.
I will continue to look for opportunities to try to re-establish channels of communication. I will try to find little topics of conversation with which to engage my reticent relations (no matter how trivial or forgettable – a case of something is better than nothing). But, the big reason I am not caught up in the throes of desperation is that I have two, very new, very blank slates in my household.
As I told my wife, just the other day, I don’t remember feeling so full of joy, so full of hope.
Yep, that unforgettable quote is from Poltergeist; but in my case it refers to the (early) arrival of the long-awaited Twins. Keeping in mind that I have been the bystander (not completely innocent, y’unnerstan?), it was a long 37 weeks – for twins, apparently a full-term pregnancy – for my wife, not a minute too long.
Our son was born at 11:52 pm, and his sister came into this world two minutes later; shortly after 7 am the next morning, the surgeon came to NICU (neo-natal intensive care unit) to tell me that my wife was in ICU (the adult version of NICU), was recovering, and would be awake in about five hours.
Yep, the delivery was anything (and everything) but uneventful.
However, here we are, three weeks later, and all are doing well.
I am back at The Job, which, as you know, I detest (but, um, with two more mouths to feed, retirement got pushed back (off the plate, off the table, out the door, etc.). However, I can’t remember ever being this happy.
I have a lot to say – i.e., process – in the aftermath of this Life Event; but I wanted to focus on just their birth, and not taint this posting with the incredible diversity of how people in my life have reacted. Really, quite the unexpected education.
Lots more to say … next time.
ciao
Apologies to the army of faithful readers who have not had any ink from my pen recently. Just been busy. Sorry.
On a much larger scale (bigger than my own ricebowl) some things have been happening, last week especially; but I have bigger fish to fry: D-Day is this Saturday. Yep, we have scheduled a Caesarian Section for the Fourth of July. While I can’t imagine a better day to have a birthday (at least I have never had fireworks for my birthday), Delivery Day is only four days away as I write this. This is the homestretch.
I am fully aware that it is my wife who has been pregnant – not me. What that feels like, the Good Lord evidently felt I was not able to fathom (I bow to His wisdom). So, my side of the coin is different, and I have to work with that.
In his “Reflections on Surviving One Year of Fatherhood,” Peter Freeman (Crisis Magazine, Jun 24) makes the point of the OJT parent, or more specifically the brand new father who has nary a clue what he’s doing. IMHO, I guess I know more; I certainly feel I know a lot more. But, whereas he has completed (survived?) the first year, mine does not start for a few more days. Whether or not The Twins will vault me past him (since his teacher is a single son) is TBD. We’ll see about my learning curve, after all that’s what this series “So, you think your life is interesting?” is all about.
I can say, as I approach the starting line that I am extremely excited. Awe and joy come to mind, as well as thanks for this opportunity. I will miss putting my hand on my wife’s belly and feeling the movement of the little people in there (I am still amazed at how much they move). At the same time, those two “entities” will become hold-in-my-hand persons in a matter of a few days. I will be floating on top of the world.
One thing that will separate his experience from my own is that I am fully employed (gainfully employed, full time, outside the home). However, my employment has a bizarre schedule: 7:30 pm to 7:30 am (yeah: 12 hour shift – at night), seven days on, seven days off. So, during my work week, I am useless; to me, being a zombie is no fiction. Having survived the layoff, I am now commuting one-to-two hours each way. Pretty much traded a job I hated with a short commute for a job I merely dislike a lot with an obscene commute. The week I am off feels like a mini-vacation. In fact, last week, both my wife and I talked about how wonderful it was for me to be home.
Of course, with the twins literally in hand, my work weeks of trying to sleep during the day between the “dog lady’s” hoard of little darlings (aka “King Charles Cavaliers”) being released into her backyard won’t be nearly as restful. And since it will be just my wife and me (for some inexplicable reason, her mother might not be showing up for another month), my mini-vacation week may not be all that restful, either. But, anyone who has worked the night shift for any length of time knows with every fiber of his being what “sleep deprivation” really means.
As to the small details of child-caring, I don’t think there is much I don’t know. Not that I know EVERTYHING – don’t misunderstand. It is more that I know we will be thrown some curve-balls and we will do our best and move on. Changing diapers I can do; trimming fingernails I can’t (I can still vividly remember the first and last time I trimmed my first daughter’s nails: that tiny little drop of blood was far more devastating than the blood-curdling scream).
Nursery rhymes I know, it’s just that I don’t think my voice is particularly soothing. However, I can read James Whitcomb Riley, just like my own father read to us.
I read an article in a formerly respected newspaper on “Sleep Training,” and found the concept unconscionable. My wife and I are on the same page on that one.
I have already made a list of books to acquire (I collect books anyway); beyond Riley there is “Pat the Bunny” and “Hello Moon” (both daily favorites of my first daughter). My goal is to teach the kids to love to read. Teach them to be curious and find their own answers is my motto. Education can be fun, and is certainly more rewarding than mere entertainment.
And, since we have been blessed with a boy and a girl, my wife gets to buy dollies and I get to buy trucks. There is nothing “fluid” about gender in our home.
Curiously, Professor Freeman mentions nothing about faith; I am sorry for him and his new family. Baptism will come soon, attending Mass will be often, and prayers will be daily.
Amen.
It wasn’t a surprise back in February when I received my “60-Day Advance Notice of Layoff” (aka “WARN” notice). Disappointing, yes; a surprise, no. But, what was a surprise was that, in the following 50 days or so, I was not able to find anyone who wanted to talk about hiring me. Granted, I wasn’t as aggressive as two co-workers who sent out somewhere in the neighborhood of 140 applications (each). Even though we work at a huge company, the idea that there are that many positions that anyone would “fit” just doesn’t work for me (yes, both individuals did move to other jobs within the company; and one absolutely hates her new spot and is actively looking for another). So, my dozen or so applications, as well contacts with several managers I have come to know over the years (lots of sympathy…) didn’t bear fruit.
What also happened in the past two months was the realization, or resignation, that nothing was in my control. I found myself just putting things in GOD’s hands. If He wanted me to stay at the same company I’d been with for 29 years, a job would find me. If He wanted me to walk, there would be no job. I felt that He and I were on the same page – maybe a first in my life!
Yesterday, my countdown clock let me know that I had eight days left. I figured it was about time I got serious looking outside the company. Just over a week left on the payroll, it was high time to get into the internet and search, search, search. I mean, I just can’t live each day for itself without any thought about the future. I have to plan – I have no choice: it’s how I’m wired. How people that don’t plan get to sleep at night, I’ll never know. I’m kinda like a toggle switch, the kind you might have on a light, the kind that gives a good, solid click when you turn the light on, or off. So, now I’m into full-blown job hunting mode.
Of course, that would be about the time I get a phone call from my boss telling me I’ve been extended 30 days. The lay-off status is still in effect; but what was a 60-day notice has essentially had another month added. It is, as my wife put it, “temporary.”
So much for understanding what GOD wants me to do!
I don’t think the company can shorten the extension; but I am under the impression that the extension can be, well, extended. My life is back on hold, and it could stay that way for awhile.
Do I gain anything with this latest development? Yeah, I gain a month to continue looking for a job inside the company (any job searches outside the company have to be done outside of my scheduled working hours). I gain another month on the payroll, so another month of medical insurance and one less month of dipping into my 401(k).
But, the waiting! Not the waiting for something to magically fall into my lap: I do believe in miracles, but I learned long ago not to rely on them. It’s the waiting to get on with my life. I am stuck in limbo. I was ready to go fishing yesterday; today, I’m back to cutting bait (there are other analogies, but that’s the nicest one; if not the most graphic).
http://www.firstthings.com/blogs/mullarkey/2015/04/rfra-my-wedding-ring
“Aggressive shows of grievance are meant to deflect discernment, not advance it.”
Pretty well sums up, not the end of history, but the end of civilization (i.e., civility).
I have noticed recent posters on the walls in the building that I work in that talk about workplace violence: “Going to work shouldn’t be like going into a storm.” I have worked for the same company for 29 years, and in this building for the past six, and I have never witnessed anything close to violence. Occasionally, someone will drive a little too fast in the parking lot; but the speed bumps installed last year (or, “traffic calming devices,” as I saw posted in some neighborhood) have greatly reduced those in a hurry to get on with their lives.
Thinking that these “manage workplace violence” posters have been put up in every company building, and not just the one I work in, I guess violence is a company-wide problem. Perhaps, if I wasn’t getting laid-off, I would care. But, I really did think I was a tad more observant….
After all these years however, I never thought this huge company had a sense of humor. I’ve seen some management decisions I thought were ludicrous (most recently, moving about 4,000 jobs out of state in the name of “geographical diversity”; when it is patently obvious that management wants to bust the unions and get rid of older – more expensive – workers). And the way that management is accomplishing this surplusing of “redundant” workers is a comedy of errors. One salaried job family, split roughly in half at two locations (“geographical diversity” at its finest) was ranked to determine the pecking order of who went out the door, and who stayed. The workers at one location were extremely well informed by their supervisor – never any surprises. The workers at the other location were told nothing – absolutely nothing. They didn’t even know all of us were being ranked together.
So, when the 60-day notices were to be distributed, we all knew they were coming; management never told the guys up north. The thing is, they could have been laid off, and one of us could have “bumped” one of them. In fact, two of the group I am in did go north.
However, this morning, as I was getting a cup of coffee in the canteen/kitchen, I happened to notice a safety bulletin taped to the refrigerator door. It had to do with a new company policy on what types of clothing could be worn. Since underwear was specifically mentioned, I am not sure how the company intends to enforce the new policy, but I would be willing to stick around and find out.
My “take away” – that’s one of the latest buzzwords bandied about, along the same lines as “reach out,” and “organizationally agnostic” (I love that one) – was the phrase, “clearly demonstrates a vague causative relationship.” I don’t understand how underwear can clearly demonstrate much of anything, since it would extremely un-PC to notice or say anything about the effect of underwear on someone’s feelings (which is all being PC is about).
Sitting at my desk, scratching my head, I had to resort to the web to try to decipher this phrase.
Under, “vagueness,” Wikipedia offered this: “When used by the merely clueless, vague words make an article confusing and possibly cause readers to misinterpret or even miss important information altogether.” I knew I was on the right track. First, I was reassured, even validated, that the definition of “vague” hadn’t been redefined by the Texters (the millenials that have adapted English to fit their smart phones and thumbs) or the Supreme Court (see my post on “tangible object” back in March). Second, maybe by getting hung up on what a “vague causative relationship” could be, I missed the intent of the safety bulletin?
I’d like to say that I was sufficiently concerned about whatever safety issue was being addressed (however poorly) that I went back to the kitchen to re-read the bulletin. But, as you know, I am only fourteen days away from being out on the street, and I don’t much care what the people who remain in these cubicles wear to work.
Speaking of which, while I don’t consider underwear life-threatening, it is hard to find any literature that says sitting is not detrimental, or maybe even healthy. But, the company has made no efforts at all to encourage, or force, workers to get off their (spreading) derrieres. IMHO (in my humble opinion – a buzzword that is now passé), there definitely is a clear demonstration between lack of activity, sitting too much, eating too much, lower quality of life, and increased morbidity, increased health care costs (or, should I be thanking Obama for that?). To me, there is no vague causative relationship between my current lifestyle and my quality of life.
No, I did not want to get into a discussion of how anybody could put “clear” and vague” in the same sentence, simply because Wikipedia did such a fine job of explaining the logical fallacy (“when used by the merely clueless…”).
Now if we could just ban “yoga pants” (esp for those who should be wearing a tent).
Eternity is a Long Time 