Suz's muses...

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Postby SuziQ on April 17th, 2007, 3:33 pm

Christina and Bill,
I just now got around to reading your two posts, and I'm sorry I waited so long.

So powerful, and so very true.

I remember after 9/11 that I kept reading about Lisa Beamer. She was the wife of the guy on flight 93 who'd said "Let's Roll." She and her husband were from my home town.

A week or so after her husband was killed on that plane, when everyone was still fretting, freaked out and afraid; that woman got herself booked on the same flight (obviously same time, new flight number,) as her husband had died on the week before. She flew from Newark NJ to California just to prove that she wasn't afraid.

My God, she had such grit, and courage, and here, I'd been terrified of sending my husband into Manhattan to work every day. She'd already lost her husband and was pregnant, plus had two other children, yet she was determined to set an example for the rest of us.

That's what great people do. They might not consider themselves terribly heroic or special, yet, through watching them, and following their lead, we can learn incredible lessons on faith, perseverance and the unshakable human spirit. As Bill said, these are the true priests among us.

Blessings,
Sue
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Postby Christina on May 3rd, 2007, 9:01 am

Sue,

I missed your post. I think it is time for a new musing from you....I need some fresh inspration ....Suzi Jacuzi style.

Love,

Christina
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Postby Christina on May 10th, 2007, 2:02 pm

I was talking to my Brother Gary who is a surgeon on the phone this morning. I told him of a funny, not so funny story that I heard on the news this morning. It seems this man got diagnosed by his Dr.'s with something...and told that he had 6 months to live, he was told to get his affairs in order, and enjoy his remaining time. He quit his job, sold his home, and spent all his money...gave to charities,etc. Well....months later on a checkup...he was told the original diagnosis was totally incorrect, and that there was indeed nothing wrong with him at all. Now he was jobless, homeless, but very healthy.

My Brother then told me of a patient of his who was referred to him with stomach pains that no-one seemed to be able to diagnose. He told the man that he needed to do exploratory surgery so he could look in his belly and actually see what was going on. Unfortunately, my Brother found that his patient had Pancreatic Cancer. They treated him with chemo, and it still metastasized to his leg, they then treated him with some radiation. He told him that he had less than a year, he asked my Brother what he should do...my Brother asked him what he liked to do, he told him he liked to gamble...he told him then do it, and have a good time. The man went off to Vegas with his wife, and a $20 dollar bill my Brother asked him to play for him. Next checkup a few months later, my Brother referred him to a Hospice for when he needed them, in the meantime, the Cancer in the leg was gone. He asked my Brother what he should do, he said go gamble again...gave him another $20 to play for him, and he went off to Atlantic City. Next time he was in, he told my Brother that he again lost his $20, but he was going gambling again, this time to Foxwoods in Connecticut. Next visit a few months later, he reported to my Brother that he again lost his $20...and they had a good laugh....but he also told he that he got a nasty letter from the Hospice. My Brother told him he did as well, it seems they told my Brother that they were a service for people who had 6 months or less to live. Once again my Brother gave him $20 bucks to play for him, and sent him on his way. Some time went by, and he realized that he had not seen his patient in some time, he asked a colleague...it seemed that the man had come to the emergency room one night with chest pain, and died of a Heart attack. That was 5 years after his original (accurate) diagnosis. He decided to live his life, and did.....without worry....anyway I though it was a story worth sharing.

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Postby basso on May 11th, 2007, 6:09 am

That IS a great story, Christina. I wish I had your brother as my doc, I could use $20 now and again. :D Fascinating stuff the human mind.

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Postby basso on June 7th, 2007, 9:01 pm

I told a lie. It wasn't a very big one, and it wasn't a lie that hurt anyone. It was what my mom used to call a white lie. We grew up with white lies, and they were deemed okay. Big lying was definitely bad, but if we told a little one, just to spare some hard feelings, or a bit of flack, that would be okay. Well, I discovered that it is not just not okay, but it is hurtful. I did it with the best of intentions...to save myself from having to communicate. Yep, I didn't want to be bothered at that moment communicating, and so I effectively shut out my best friend. Now this lie was tiny, minuscule, and of no consequence to our relationship, yet I told it anyway. I had a host of reason why, and at the time they made sense to me. Had my friend not found out through my forgetting I told the lie in the first place, I guess all would have been well. I wish my story ended there, but there is more. You see, I then quickly told another lie to cover up my slip of the first, ironically so that they wouldn't think of me as ...a liar. I still didn't see that as bad, because the first one was so itty-bitty. They seemed confused, and started calling me on the second lie, asking me why I felt it was necessary to lie about such a small thing. I felt compelled to defend the second lie, because I was already in a heightened state of anxiety about telling it in the "bloody" first place. I even got a bit indignant, and then I felt ashamed. "Fuhck," I thought, this has to end, I have to come clean. This is my best friend we are talking about after all, and I knew I had really screwed things up, but royally. I spilled the beans, and then waited for the fall-out. It came quickly, both barrels blazing. The proverbial shyt hit a big ass fan. I could hardly blame them, and I knew that I had it coming. The good news is, my friend is the most amazing person in the world, well, to me anyway. They allowed me a second chance, even though I had breached a sacred trust between us.

This whole episode was a gift of a kind, although I'm sure my friend did not appreciate being wrapped up in my life-lesson. I realized that ALL lying has the potential to hurt, and that it isn't up to me to set the terms of how friendship, or love should be played out. I thought that I had figured that one out long ago, but I hadn't.

This rather long introduction is to point out how injurious it is to tell a lie to ourselves that we might be very unwell, and then to cover that lie up with fear; which is just another lie, followed by defence of both lies. The defending of both lies it what we do when we buy into the fact that our bfs is anything other than benign. It hurts us, it hurts those around us, and it even hurts the world. For as long as we can not be honest with ourselves, how can we respond honestly to the life we have been given?

I'm surely grateful that my most loving and best friend forgave me. They even tried to blame themselves later, saying that perhaps they should have been easier to deal with, and then I wouldn't have felt compelled to lie in the first place. Holy shyt, gulp...what a friend, indeed! Of course, I won't allow anyone to own my abysmal behaviour except me...but thank God for the deep love of friendship, a bond that will never lie. Honesty I now believe is part of the prescription to lasting wellness, and it sure as hell feels better than a lie...any day of the week.

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Postby SuziQ on June 7th, 2007, 9:42 pm

Wow Basso.

That was quite a testimony. Knowing you as the amazing, generous, wonderful person you are, I think I would have forgiven you, too. :D

I grew up in a family of alcoholics and co-dependents, and oddly, one of the characteristics of an "Adult Child" of an alcoholic is that it is "easier to lie than to tell the truth." Except as irony would have it, my mother (the alcoholic) held honestly and truthfulness in very high esteem.

If we ever busted something at home, no matter how careless we had been, or how priceless or irreplaceable the item, my mother would only punish us if we tried to lie about breaking it. If we would immediately fess up to the "crime," she would pardon us and give us grace, just because we'd been honest. But heaven help us if we would try to fib our way out of it, or somehow justify our actions. Watch out. :shock: My mother was pretty handy with the hairbrush. :oops:

In the end, she taught us that people are far more important than material things.

And, in fact it is such people; even the ones who occasionally tell silly white lies, who are eminently more valuable than holding onto a goofy old grudge.

Your friend must have known that, and that's why he forgave you. :)

Sure, it may take some time to earn his trust again, but in the end, your history, your friendship, and the love that you have; one for another, will ultimately prevail.

Blessings,
Sue
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Postby basso on June 7th, 2007, 9:49 pm

My mother was pretty handy with the hairbrush.


Wow, mine too...and with slippers, dusters, brooms or anything else she could lay her mitts on. :P

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Postby Christina on June 8th, 2007, 9:21 am

I guess we keep making mistakes all our lives, and the important thing here is that we can always learn from them...and if we actually do take something from our fuyck ups then it is a very positive experience indeed.

Whites lies...my parents were the King and Queen of the genre. I remember well listening to their lies to anyone, and everyone. When I would ask them, it was always your Father has so many demands on him he lies to spare their feelings. I always thought that it would be easier to tell the truth...my Mother would tell me at that suggestion that people don't want to hear the truth really.?!? My Dad who I thought hung the moon....I could forgive anything including lies he told to me. My Mother is still lying...about EVERYTHING...she hates to (will not ever) admit that she is wrong about anything, so that leads to a lot of real whoppers.

Lies....it is an interesting topic. I guess white lies are o.k., if they really do spare someones feelings..... "Do I look fat in this?", "Was it good for you?".....sometimes.....almost necessary. "Bring this bag from the store to your room before Daddy gets home...it will only upset him if he sees that you spent this much," I have actually uttered the last sentence....and yes, I am ashamed of myself.

Basso, you are such a sweet, sweet, caring person. It is wonderful that you took something that made you unhappy, and turned it into something positive to make us think, and see something real, and truthful.
The silver lining....there always is one, you know.
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Postby kit on June 8th, 2007, 11:06 am

Ok here's my two cents again :lol: Great story and so important to realize that life is always about lessons and that is why when we choose to not learn we are doomed to repeat!

I found some quotes that I thought were poignant to this topic;

The one who conceals his sins will not proper, but whoever confesses and renounces them will fine mercy. Proverbs. Obviously Basso you have found that mercy.

Trying to grow up hurts. You make mistakes. You try to learn from them, and when you don't, it hurts even more. - Aretha Franklin

So, this is all about growing up, even when we think we are. It's about learning what is important, that sometimes we are not in control and sometimes we need help. And most of all for me...it's ok to not be perfect, it's what you do about the imperfections and accepting them that counts.

love,
Kit
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Postby kit on June 8th, 2007, 11:07 am

Sorry about not spell checking, typing too fast and not enough coffee this morning :roll:
Love still
Kit
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Postby twitchmebaby on June 8th, 2007, 2:30 pm

"And most of all for me...it's ok to not be perfect, it's what you do about the imperfections and accepting them that counts. "

Well put KIT. I sadly think this has been a big struggle for me with this. I foolishly expected to always be the strong Ox and now I feel more like the goat trying to rebuild to at least a ram.
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Postby kit on June 8th, 2007, 3:28 pm

I really think that we are sent here to learn lessons. When you learn one, you move on to the next. I have a big issue with control. I thought I had mastered not being in control. I had a bout with terrible reflux that caused esophagitis. I lived on lukewarm water and white rice for about three months :? Any way, I learned what I needed to do and that I wasn't "perfect" and I thought I had accomplished that. Yea me. Any way, God giggled and my husband, who is my partner in everything including my practice got deployed with the military for 2 years overseas. If any of you have ever dealt with the military that is a true lesson in never being in control. I did pretty darn good. Kept a two doctor practice running with one, taught all over the country, ran an association, raised my two little girls and held it all together. I figured I was invincible and had this all licked and could move on to the next lesson. Well I am sure that I am preaching to the choir but this condition, where you never know where how or when you will cramp twitch buzzz etc. or for that matter what new symptom will appear???? Well if that ain't a lesson in I am not in control I have no idea what is. Of course we just got news that my husband will leave for training July 23rd and be gone til October and then deploy next year for Iraq. I guess God is still giggling or he really thinks I am getting better at these tests :shock:

I have come to the conclusion that I need help sometimes, it is ok to say no, you can't do it all and no matter how invincible you think you are you ain't so much :lol:

Kit
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Postby basso on June 8th, 2007, 3:38 pm

Way to make me feel like a total slacker, Kit. :wink:

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Postby kit on June 8th, 2007, 3:40 pm

No I am just a way overachiever :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol:
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Postby SuziQ on June 13th, 2007, 8:58 pm

This past weekend, I had the privilege of being in a church full of marines at various stages of deployment. Some were on their way out, and some, on their way back in.

The Pastor asked specifically if there were any who were on their first Sunday back from the war, and a few men stood up, to well deserved thunderous applause.

I looked into their eyes. They all bore the same intangible expression, one that I couldn't read, couldn't interpret, and suppose I never would.

There was grief. And sadness. Emptiness, loss, fear, darkness, and something else; indescribable. It was as elusive as it was obvious.

It haunts me still, to think of them.

These are men who were honored in their communities, who were welcomed home to cheers and bravado. Whatever was in those eyes might have had a chance, here. A chance to heal, maybe just a little, with love, time, and the support that a large, thriving church can provide.

This particular congregation even had ministries to the widows of fallen soldiers, and to those whose husbands were injured. There was a support system for wives with husbands in active duty, where food, clothing, financial and emotional support were provided.

As impressed as I was with this church, my heart wept for those who have no such blessing or resource in their lives.

What about the thousands of troops who return from deployment to empty lives, or empty homes? Men and women who don't have a place of worship, or even family or friends to embrace them and help them cope with the insanity they have just left behind. How do these people know how much we appreciate their sacrifice? How will they ever know that whatever side of the political precipice we stand on, we will always honor, esteem and love them?

It chills me to think of how alone they might feel.

When we stood in the church, applauding, my eyes filled with tears. I felt so grateful and indebted to them, the clapping seemed so trite compared to what these men and women had done for me.

There is a scripture that says "Greater love has no one than this; that he lay down his life for his friends."

I don't know how to repay them; all of them, and their families. Perhaps I can never lay down my life for them. But I can thank God for every last one of them, and pray for their safe and soon return. And when I see them, in a restaurant, or in the store, I can salute them and shake their hands.

Blessings,
Sue
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