Apathy

Apathy - Lack of interest, enthusiasm or concern


So I have updated and revised a book of poetry that was first published in the 1970s. The poems where written over the  turbulent decades of the 60s and 70s.

One of the ones I added, is titled "But a Pale Shadow" and it's about apathy.   It was inspired by the following:

In November of 1963 my husband, Ken, and I were living in Plantation, Florida just outside of Fort Lauderdale.  We had two children, Cathy who was a toddler and Scott, a baby.  On this day I was attending a college class while Ken's mother, who was visiting from Toledo, stayed with the children.

Suddenly someone burst into the room to say that the president of the United States, John Kennedy, had been shot while in a motorcade in Texas.  The room immediately erupted into chaos.  I grabbed my stuff and headed for the parking lot, along with several other students and teachers.  All I could think about was my children.  While it may not seem rational that they would be in harms way, I didn't know how this news would effect my mother in law.  So I raced home.

They were fine.  Ken's mother had the television on but she was totally unconcerned.  Not knowing her well at this point I was having trouble comprehending why she wasn't grasping the magnitude of this event.

That evening we were to have dinner with some executives of the international company Ken worked for.  Of course we were struggling with our feelings and didn't want to go but Ken's mother insisted that it was the right thing to do.

So we went.  While the afternoon traffic was bumper to bumper with folks trying to get somewhere, mostly because they were stunned and not knowing what was happening in our world, now there was no traffic.

The usually busy, upscale restaurant was almost empty.  But the company execs were all there and we sat through an evening of eating and drinking, like they didn't have a care in the world.

I was deeply ashamed of myself for being there.  A few months later we left our lovely home and Ken's prestigious work and we headed into an entirely new life.  It was hard.  But we never looked back.


***

Tread

I like it when family and friends suggest things for me to watch, especially in this shut-down time.  So, when my son suggested I watch the documentary, Tread, I gave it a shot.

But about two thirds of the way through I thought I was going to have to tell him he owes me an hour of my life.  But then yesterday when we were on a little road trip and he was on the phone,   I heard him suggesting that Tread might be a good discussion starter in their eclectic men's Bible study group.

 And, all at once, it clicked. I knew exactly what he had in mind.  And I agreed.  It would make for real conversation on how we handle ourselves when we get pushed to the edge by perceived injustice.

In Tread Marvin Theemeyer is a guy who considers himself a man's man.  His love of snowboarding led him to the small town of  Grandy Colorado where he lived for a couple of decades.  He was an excellent welder, owned a muffler shop,  and had friends, including a long time girlfriend.  He also had a strong faith.

Over time he had some disputes the town over property rights.  He felt that the way people got ahead in this town was by keeping other people down, including him.  He felt like he wasn't being heard or respected.  At some point he decided God's will had to be done - through him.   So he went all "Old Testament" on them.

Spoiler Alert:  Marv transforms his bulldozer into a tank and pretty much destroys the town of Grandy. Then kills himself while still in the tank.

Do I know anyone who's done what Marv did?  Of course not.  But I know many people, good people, who've destroyed the things and hurt the people they loved the most.  Let's have a discussion on why do we do this.

In case you think this is a "guy thing," following is a poem I, myself, in a time of deep frustration, wrote to express my feelings.  (You can find Tread on Netflix.)


HELLO SIXTIES

I shouted out the Emancipaiton
       Proclamation, 
The Civil Rights Act, 
And the wording to the Equal Rights
      Amendment.

And you said, 
"Let's go to bed."

I joined an underground movement,
And plotted to overthrow the government.

And you said, 
"You're cute when you're mad."

I blew up your post office,
And half of your university.

And you said,
"Are you having your period?"

With one fell swoop,
I destroyed everything we both held dear.

And you finally said, 
"Why are you doing this?"

"I'M JUST TRYING TO GET YOUR ATTENTION."

 - Cecily Crossman


***

Celebs - They're (Not) Just Like Us

For the last six months I've been pretty much homebound because  of illness and for the same reason every other one of you is currently holed up in your house.  

I'm fortunate to have constant sources of comfort, and intellectual, spiritual and physical care.  But, like you, my needs are ever changing.  A while back I was told my reading materials were too intense and I needed to lighten up so I ordered subscriptions to several magazines, including The New Yorker (my favorite,) Esquire, Architectural Digest and People.

Like the New Yorker, People comes once a week.  I've done my best trying to identify with the celebrities featured in People.  For instance, like Kim Kardashian, we should all be able relate to seeing all of our triumphs and tragedies as photo ops.  Right?  And we can all relate to the heartbreak of having a wildly talented but insane husband running for president.  Right?  (I'm referring to Kanye West here - no one else.)

And, unlike the UK Royals, Prince Harry and Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, are regular people who've been mistreated by their in-laws.  That's a common relatable experience.  Yesterday I was thumbing through some of their serious concerns that made Harry give up his birthright.  

 - Meghan was falsely accused of wearing the wrong color nail polish.

 - Kate didn't offer Meghan a lift in her Range Rover when they were both going shopping on the same day.

And, one of my favorites,
 - Megan's dresser purposely dragged her heels about finding Meghan the proper diamond tiara for her wedding rehearsal.  (We've all been there.)

So, as we all know because they're in People Magazine so often, Harry and Meghan did not accept (or were not offered) an assist from the folks in buying their starter home in California.  They had to come up with the 14.65 million dollars on their own.

 On the other hand, I have been able to truly (and seriously)  relate to Sean Penn, who's currently working to help heal our world by helping provide the largest Covid 19 testing site in the country.  And he and I are sporting the same hair style.  So I guess I do have some things in common with celebs after all.




***

Beyond the Blue Horizon

First, a disclaimer.  I'm not planning on leaving any time soon.  But I, like you, am bombarded every day with messages expressing fear about the future.  Thankfully, along with that, I'm also bombarded with hope and good humor and deeply meaningful messages from my worship leaders and others.

But during these extraordinarily trying times I find it helpful to look beyond.  It's kind of like losing your job but knowing you have a great IRA waiting for you when you retire.  Only this is about a billion times better.  (Since we're now hearing about trillion dollar budgets, I'd better make that a gazillion times better.)

There are many songs and hymns that remind us of this blessing to come.  Most are overtly faith based, some are secular but imply the same message.   When my husband, Ken, was critically ill and in the hospital my daughter-in-law took her hymnal to his bedside and sang "going home" songs to him.  He loved this.  It was calming and reassuring.

Several years ago my husband David asked that Over the Rainbow (the Hawaiian version) be sung at his memorial service.  After hearing it done at an earlier service he said those words expressed his own feelings.  My friend's mother had Beyond the Blue Horizon sung at her funeral.

However, we don't hear much in sermons, in a positive way, about what heaven will be like. It is, in some instances, used to (literally) scare the Hell out of us.  We don't need that right now.    We're having the Hell scared out of us every single day.

So I've turned back to trying to find literature that presents the sunny side of death.  Because we, like King Lear, tend to wonder if it might be like an eternal bad dream.

There are many near death experience books but the vast majority are not for me.  I'm too analytical for my own good and have difficultly with the woo woo stuff as well the fear factor that implies it's  for just a few of those who get the RSVP.  Only they don't always agree on "which few" will make the cut.

I've order a few books over the past months thinking they would be comforting to the dying but they are meant only to comfort the ones left behind.  While there's good it doesn't address this time of over the top anxiety, it doesn't address our need to feel confident about the future.

So I turned back to the life after death message presented by renowned neurosurgeon, Dr. Eban Alexander in his book "Proof of Heaven" which became a huge bestseller.   Dr. Alexander, himself a brain surgeon, contracted bacterial meningitis and was "brain dead" for eight days.  I've just finished  rereading his account of what heaven is like.  Not a particularly religious man prior to this experience, Dr. Alexander describes a heaven as brilliant, vibrant, estatic, stunning....(God said to him)...you are unconditionally loved, you have nothing to fear.

Dr. Alexander has since written more books on the subject.  He's still sharing this amazing promise.  If I ever have a near death experience, this would be exactly the same message I'd like to bring back.

Beyond the blue horizon
Waits a beautiful day
Goodbye to things that bore me
Joy is waiting for me
I see a new horizon
My life has only begun
Beyond the blue horizon
Lies a rising sun


***

The Thirteen Tribes of Kentucky

My mother, Carmen, is front row with grandpa's arms around her.

Father Abraham had many sons,

Many sons had father Abraham

I am one of them and so are you

So let's just praise the Lord.   

I loved seeing my kids sing this song when they were little.  Of course I had to remind the girls that daughters counted too.  The Bible tells us that many generations after Abraham and Sarah had their family,  the 12 sons of Jacob were named to head up different parts of Israel, and much later, around 930 BC, the Kingdoms of Israel split in half.  

I love reading the stories in the Old Testament about the shenanigans these tribes were in to - like all of us, they were flawed.  But God used them anyway,

Fast forward a few thousand years to my family of origin. My grandparents on my mother's side had 13 children.  I have no idea how many first cousins I have but I'm guessing about 40.  And if we extrapolate that out another two or three generations, it has to be way up in the hundreds or even thousands.  I never lived in Kentucky but, as a child, I visited often.  And then in 1962 I left for Florida and a whole new life.  

And now, while I'm mostly secluded due to illness and coronavirus,  I have become a part of a LARGE email group of descendants of my grandparents.  Most of these folks I don't know at all because they're not my generation.  They are a couple of generations younger.  All of my mother's siblings are gone and most of the cousins in my generation are gone.  

The leader of this email group has done an excellent job of organizing and laying out instructions.  He began by encouraging us to recall what we know about my grandparents After a few weeks of stories and photos, then adding two of the original 13 a time, beginning with the oldest.  I can't wait until they get to Carmen.  This is not establishing ancestry.  It's about telling stories, little vignettes to help us know something about these folks.  

I cannot begin to say how meaningful this has been to me. My grandparents were extremely poor.  Grandma had her first child when she was 14.  While she had no control over how many children she had she was a strong matriarch.  She saddled up and rode her horse side saddle. She took care of business.  Grandpa was a dreamer.   But here's what they and their offspring valued:  Family.  

Family was everything.  I never met my uncle Walter because he died before I was born.  He was killed by his brother-in-law in a hunting accident.  When grandma heard about this she "took to her bed."  

The stories being shared are overwhelming positive and loving.  I thought I couldn't remember much but then was reminded by stories about how many of the men were musical, "They taught me how to sing in harmony."  That reminded me immediately that, at most Sunday gatherings,  when the men sat of the front porch waiting for the women to prepare the massive meals, they frequently yodeled.  Other than Roy Rogers, I don't remember yodeling being a popular thing. 

And it's clear that many of the original 13 children had many gifts besides music.  Several of them wrote stories and poems.  Extreme poverty and very little education didn't disrupt the need to write.  

One second cousin told about how one of my aunts was peeling potatoes for one of these dinners and her sister complained because she was cutting off too much potato with the skin.  I totally got this.   

It took a few generations but the poverty improved.   While the people on this email group don't talk about themselves it's clear that they have excelled in many areas.  They are telling the truth but dealing gently with their forefathers and mothers.

***