Friday, November 13, 2015

Is a Rose Still a Rose?

I'm a writer. I like words. I don't have a particularly extensive vocabulary, but I'm working on it. As a writer and lover of words I should probably appreciate etymology a little more. While I find it interesting, sometimes even fascinating, how words come to be, I apparently don't like watching it happen. I'll explain.

I was working on my novel the other day and one of the characters said that she was 'empowered.' I cringed after I wrote that and sat back and considered it. The woman had gained an important lesson and, consequently, life skill from a dream she'd had. She came away from that dream truly empowered. I have new-agey images that come to mind with the word empowered. I see people rolling their eyes and waving their hands in the air, "Oh, she was empowered, was she?"

That's too bad. I kept the word because that's what I meant because that's what she was. When a word is overused, used in the wrong context or is associated with a certain stereotype it loses impact, even definition.

I don't like seeing what is happening to words like appropriate. I'm so aggravated with parents who watch their child hit another child on the head with a sand shovel and say, "Now, Titus, that's not appropriate." Do they know what the word appropriate means? 'Suitable for the situation' is my definition. Just when is it appropriate for little Titus to hit little Carlos over the head with the sand shovel, mommy? Call it what it is: it's mean, it's cruel, it's wrong, it's (gasp) bad.

But we don't like using (truthful) words like that, do we? Oh how we are cheating the coming generations out of a recognition of truth and clear, truthful speech. When adults use words haphazardly like that, they miss out on wonderful teaching opportunities. Teach Titus that, though he is a good boy it is a bad act to hit Carlos on the head with the sand shovel. Why would a good boy like you, Titus, do something like that?

That way, Titus not only learns that he is good, though a living contradiction at times, he learns that good people can do bad things. Maybe mommy hasn't learned this yet.

The next time, and I bet I won't have to wait long, I hear a gay couple introduce each other as "my partner," I'm going to ask, innocently and wide-eyed, "Partners in what?" That ought to bring about some stuttering. Why do they insist on referring to each other as though they are half of a law firm or vaudeville team? Why can't they introduce their lover as their lover? They obviously aren't ashamed of their love since they have come out as a couple. I don't get it.

I'm disturbed at how many times people describe an area hit by a hurricane or earthquake as "a war zone." I'm betting most of those have never been in a war zone. Maybe I'm wrong. I've seen pictures from war zones and earthquakes and, yes, I see how alike the aftermath can look. I just think it's not a good idea to toss out the comparison between man's atrocities in war to nature. I know we like short cuts. We don't want to take the time to say, "houses are leveled, bodies are strewn, cars flipped over into ditches, burned out buildings . . ." I fear we may be missing out on the impact it has had on those who suffered the tornado, or whatever natural disaster. Those people see every bit of the destruction I listed (and more, probably, I don't know) bit by bit with every step they take through their neighborhood. They don't have the luxury of abbreviating anything now. They must collect every body, haul away every piece of debris, rebuild every house. (Instead of that sentence, I almost wrote that they must 'deal with' the aftermath, but that, too would have been an inappropriate shortcut.) Perhaps if we reported more truthfully - what actually - happened we'd have more empathy.  If we're short on time just say, "It was utterly destructive."

I'd like to, even just once, see a sign at a business that, instead of reading "Sorry for the inconvenience" says "Sorry we failed to think ahead." Or, "Sorry we're too dependent on computers, which we know to be are unreliable, and they're down right now ."

The attention-grabber of the month is not usually 'speaking out,' they are being interviewed (likely for pay and a make-over) or relishing their 15 minutes. Speaking out sounds like they have something to contribute that is unknown or hasn't been said. Too many of those people are just on the show for ratings, self-glorification or public pity-party.

Awesome is a word that particularly bugs me. Awesome got popular during the time in my life I was getting serious about God. A skateboard trick is not awesome; God is awesome. A picture your child drew for you is not awesome: a lightening storm is awesome. The home run you just hit is not awesome; an approaching habub is awesome. I love the definition of awe. It's a blend of "reverence, fear and wonder" according to the New World Dictionary. I guess a skateboard trick could be awesome, like the acts in Cirque du Soleil. I still say the word is overused, no - misused.

Since I was raped I take the time to tell people that, no, the bank didn't rape you with all those fees, they charged you or they over-charged you. Know your audience folks when using dramatic language or it has strong unintended consequences.

One more. Discovering that your skirt got caught in the top of your thong undies is not horrifying to you, it's embarrassing. Now if we're talking about me and I've managed to tuck my skirt into my thong and you use the second definition of horrify, "shock or disgust" (again New World Dictionary) then it is indeed horrifying for those who can see it, but not to me. To me it remains to be embarrassing.

I do understand exaggeration, I really do. What I want to know is why isn't being embarrassed strong enough? Why bring horror into it? Actually, I think I have the answer. It's the same reason the word 'excellent' won't do for some, that it must be 'awesome'. And the same reason someone wants to say that being robbed was like being raped. We want to dramatize our experience so we exaggerate. Those exaggerations become overused, popular catch-phrases that others grab at rather than thinking of how to express themselves. We are guilty of a limited vocabulary. And we are not utilizing our creativity in expressing ourselves.

Instead of reverting to 'awesome' (in the above situations), how about 'fabulous' or 'Picasso would be proud,' or 'Just like Al* taught me'.

Instead of saying over-charged, robbed or raped, get clever. I had a friend who miscalculated his expenditures and the bank bounced about a dozen checks. His issue was the order in which the bank bounced them. There was one check for a couple thousand dollars and twelve for under $100 or so. The bank processed the largest check first, in effect emptying the account, then proceeded to bounce - and charge fees on - the rest of them. He called the bank and said, "Do you want me to sing the 'I'm stupid' song? I'll sing the 'I'm stupid' song for you right now." They reversed the charges on all but one. (I don't know what he sang.)

If embarrassing isn't good enough when you find yourself exposed, try "It was like I was open for business." It will be much more meaningful, showing that you can laugh at yourself. And memorable, though there are some things we'd prefer lost in the cosmos of time.

*Alex Rodriguez. For those readers who, like me had I not written this, would have no idea who this is.


Monday, November 2, 2015

Still Rising

Of all my posts, this one may be the one that most fits with my blog title, As I Rise. I recently spent three weeks in Phoenix helping out my parents. My poor mother fell and broke her shoulder. She already suffers with diabetes and arthritis so a fall like this affects her entire body. She has fallen before and broken bones so each time, in her own words, she bounces back a little less.

When I arrived in Phoenix she was in a rehabilitation facility being cared for by pretty good people. Her insurance company was under the delusion that two weeks is enough time for an 83 year old woman to recover from a broken shoulder and be done with physical therapy. Do these people know how long a broken bone takes to heal on a younger, fitter person?

Bringing her home was not a viable option. My father, feeling the affects of age, is no longer strong enough to give her the help she needs. Neither of my parents want to leave their home of about 60 years. Understandable. So I needed to find affordable in-home health care. A man who is an agent for such care visited with me and mom and, after talking with us, said that he felt that in-home care was not enough at this point. That left the rather immediate need to find another facility where she could stay and recuperate and regain enough strength to return home. I had three days.

We considered leaving mom where she was, as that was an option. You'll soon find out why we're glad we didn't do that.

I met with a woman the rehabilitation center recommended. Her name is Sue Royer (602-663-4000). She proved to be a gem. She met with me and mom, assessed her needs and desires and found a place about seven miles from their house so that it would be easy for dad to visit. I visited the house with Sue and got a good feeling about it. It is a ranch-style house that has been converted into a long-term care facility. It is run by kind, loving, knowledgeable Filipino women who laugh easily, care, cook delicious food and take their jobs seriously. Part of my good feeling came from the fact that when Sue walked into the house she knew some of the residents and they knew her. There are eight other elderly women living there who were sitting in the living room alert and engaged. Mom had the option of sharing a room or having a private room. She chose to have a private room.

Let me insert here that if any of my readers ever find themselves needing to find a place for an elderly person to live, find a senior placement agent like Sue. She was invaluable.

We moved mom into her new room after a harrowing last night at the rehabilitation center. I got a call from mom around 7:30. She needed assistance and no one was answering her call light. Her emergency call light. I won't go into too many details, but this is something I'd already discussed with staff there. When I visited it took them as long as 10 minutes to respond. "Do you realize that she's diabetic?" I asked. "Do you understand what an emergency is?" I asked. Well that night, after waiting a half hour or so and calling the only extension within the facility she knew (the kitchen where no one was) mom called me. Mom's body may be failing her, but her mind serves her quite well, thank you very much. I had just returned home from having visited her. She had pushed the call light before I left and someone responded. It turns out this person turned off the light and said she'd be back. She didn't return until after I got there and walked up and down the halls shouting for help. Mom wasn't in danger; it was the principle. I'm glad mom is in the house she's in now.

So how does all this fit in with my blog theme, 'As I Rise'? Some of the things that I had to deal with in Phoenix include setting up transportation for mom to and from appointments and her new (temporary) home, trying to talk some sense into her insurance company to cover more than two weeks of rehabilitation and setting up powers of attorney - all new territory for me. (Did I mention that Douglas and I were in the middle of buying a house? I had to sign over power of attorney to Douglas so he could sign in my absence.)

Usually when I go to Phoenix I'm enjoying Mexican food every other day, visiting friends, dashing off to See's Candy for a fix. Not this time. I could not believe how many errands there were to do. I also marveled at my energy. I was on the job, focused. I have a notebook with more notes than I've taken since German class. I was organized. I had to be. I put off nothing. I hadn't the leisure. And I came away with the realization that, when I'm given full reign, I can accomplish a lot.

This is big for me. This is something I wish I had come to decades ago. At least I made it.

I have spent my life doubting and second guessing myself. I have taken on jobs where people criticize and question my methods, discouraging me and sucking all desire to help out of me. This has left me very hesitant to take on anything I don't know with certainty that I can do. This last trip to Phoenix changed that.

I've had few other experiences like this in my life: getting to know God, marrying Douglas and storytelling. Perhaps in another blog I'll expound on those. Comment if you'd like to hear about the difference these three things have made in my life, that will prod me along. After a particularly enlightening prayer time or storytelling session I ask myself, "How can I hold onto this? How can I make this grow?" So now I reflect on Phoenix and ask myself those same questions.

So far I've told Douglas that I want a more active role in matters of the home like finances. What have I actually done? I'm a bit limited as we are two out of three shipments into moving into the house. I must sort through things, decide what to keep, what to donate and what to try and sell. I figured out how to list a dress I want to sell on Craig's list with a picture. (We purposefully bought a small house so we'd have to pare down our possessions.) I took on a challenge with a friend to write 1,700 words a day in the month of November. (I'm editing this November 13; so far, so good.) Writing is something that often gets pushed aside when there is so much going on. I have interest in my novel from a book scout in Germany so I must move forward with it and finish it. Douglas and I are budgeting and I must shop and cook smartly. That coupled with limited space means I must plan. (Those of you who really know me - stop laughing. It can happen.) I realize the importance of long-term health care insurance. I called Douglas from Phoenix and told him we've procrastinated long enough and need to buy it this year. And I've decided that I must do push-ups, sit-ups, squats and/or plies every day. (Notice the lack of update on this matter.) I see what my parents are going through physically I don't want to lose too much strength. If I do, I don't want it to be due to complacency or laziness. If I lose it, so help me, it will be due to injury or illness. Though I've set the bar rather low, 10 each per day, I'm still not doing it daily. Feel free to comment in the future, Laura, are you doing your push-ups?

One last thing. Those of you who read my "If I Can" blog remember how instrumental visualization was for me. I came away from Phoenix seeing myself having done all that I did and that makes it easier to see myself doing the more every-day things like finding my way around a new city, researching free, engaging activities for Douglas and I to do in the D.C. area, acquainting myself with my political representatives and begin writing them. (I have written to my senators and representative.) Maybe even buying my own long-term health insurance. (Looked into it, got mad, walked away; will likely give in this weekend and get it.)



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