Day One---heading to Zurich

 

Being more of a story teller, I want to record my thoughts on the trip Rebecca and I took. Although the trip was my idea, I started having anxiety just thinking of travelling to Zurich---my knees, my sciatica, germs. . . .Finally I decided, what's a few dollars vs. my anxiety so I upgraded us to first class for the first time.

I was blown away by first class seating in our own little pods with pillows, comforters, slippers, sleep mask, tooth brush etc. The seats converted to recliners, flat beds and all of the stages in between.  Since I was having digestive/sleep problems, I asked that they serve me dinner ASAP which they did while others were still having drinks.  And, then, we hit turbulence for several hours---I was the only one who had food.  The attendants were able to clear my tray so I could sink in my "pod" for a good night's sleep.

I slept through the shortened night and woke up to Rebecca saying, "Mom, I had a medical incident during the night" And then I noticed she had an oxygen mask.  

After I booked the trip, I checked to see what the altitude was for Zurich:  it was well below 9000 feet which is the point at which she gets sick.  I also asked about flying altitude and was told the pressurized cabins prevent people from getting sick.  A little more than half way through the flight she felt odd, got up to go to the bathroom and fainted upon coming out.  The next thing she knew, she was on the floor where they had made her a bed and asked for a doctor on board (there was one in front of me and one beside her seat).  Her blood pressure was roughly 60/30 and she was sweating.  They gave her electrolytes which she had brought and hooked her up with a tank of oxygen.  We landed after a tank and a half of oxygen.  There were wheel chairs waiting for us both (and our flights from Paris to Kansas City).  

Talking to our son-in-law, a pilot, he said it's not unusual for pilots to fly about 40,000 feet which results in cabin pressure feeling like 8000 feet. She's exploring another possiblity about falling asleep at a lower altitude and waking at a higher one. . . . .

She felt fine for the rest of the trip and was somewhat notorious at our hotel in Zurich where all of the flight attendants and pilots were.  She was introduced as the "medical emergency"----everyone was happy to see her walking around with a smile on her face but a little embarassed at the attention she was getting.

An Evening at McCrite

 

We had an interesting evening with the Butlers the other night here at McCrite. We have lunch with the Butlers most days so we knew a bit about our backgrounds.  Terry, Lowell and I were invited to their apartment to share hymnals and hymns from our two denominations..  "Pete" and Jo Ann are retired professors from Midwestern Baptist Seminary were they both taught in the music department.  

JoAnn taught vocal music while Pete taught hymnology.  She had written several books on children's music and several children's hymns.  Peter had written over 50 hymns including "Redeemed" a popular Baptist hymn world-wide (a Fanny Crosby hymn for which Pete wrote the music).  They also had donated their enormous hymnal collection to the Seminary. Here's more about the collection and the Butlers: https://www.mbts.edu/article/the-butler-collection/

While I haven't sung in a choir for a long time, I do write poetry which Lowell sets to music.  So, we shared that.  Terry, Lowell's brother, helped us better understand the theology and history of the Reorgaanized Church of Latter Day Saints (Community of Christ).  Terry and Lowell brought hymnals from their church and I brought "Glory Be to God" our Presyberian hymnal.

But, the stars were the Butlers who showed us several interesting hymnals they still had in their apartment.  We shared favorite hymns and looked to see if they were in the Baptist, Presbyterian and RLDS hymnals. We also shared favorite stories about those hymns.  The evening ended with Lowell sharing recordings of him singing spirituals and  our songs.  

We had a great time and hope to repeat it again.

Grow with Change

Photo by Javier Allegue Barros on Unsplash

As Summer drifts into Fall, I’m ready to move on from the blistering heat of Summer.  I am looking forward to the turning of the leaves, the cooler temperatures, apple cider, everything spice flavored —-OK maybe not the  Pumpkin Spice Toilet Paper you can get on Amazon. 

Transitions can be hard—-whether it’s the seasons, or our lives.  We don’t know what to expect—-some days are beautiful with 70 degrees and some are still brutaly hot.

Many of us are also going through transitions in our lives with the passing of a bridge partner, living without a spouse, losing our independence, moving from our home of 50 years.  Even changing our cleaning schedule can be hard.

Fred Rogers famously noted, “Transitions are almost always signs of growth, but they can bring feelings of loss. To get somewhere new, we may have to leave somewhere else behind.”

He also offers hope, “Often when you think you’re at the end of something, you’re at the beginning of something else.” 

Feel that loss on one hand, but on the other hand, try new foods, sit at a different table, meet new friends, take a painting class, read a new author.  

Grow!

 

 

The Pinball Machine

Sometime my brain is like

a pin ball machine

Darting from ding to ding.

That’s the point

Get as much done as quickly as possible.

Ding-ding-ding-ding

Type a poem, while eating breakfast,

Still thinking of protein powder on Amazon,

wondering how the grands are doing in college.

Am I packing enough underwear for my trip?

And of course remembering to wish my Love

Good Morning, 

Zing-zing-zing

Ding-ding-ding

But, by the end of the day, I’m exhausted

physically and mentally—-every ounce of ideas and energy,

wrung out—-

wanting nothing more than a quiet night

holding hands with my Love.

At night, if I see a movie or meet friends for Bunco:

it’s like putting in another coin for another round of pin ball.

But,  I’m slow to hit

the buttons to complete a task.

The dings are slower—softer less inviting.

I drag myself to bed: body seeking rest.

But, as I lay down, my brain is still flipping that damn ball:

ideas zinging around the recesses of my brain:

Hour       after      hour. 

Later, with my 10th trip to the toilet,

body weak from fatigue,

I finally slip into fitful sleep.

Not restful sleep, not recharging sleep—-

no REM, or deep sleep.

Like a pinball zombie, i awake in the moring , dragging my feet,

Fixing breakfast, needing my walker,

The zing has zonged and the ding has donged.

Alienor

 Alienor Aquitaine:  

“Trees are not known by their leaves, nor even by their blossoms, but by their fruits.”

Marie Countess of Champagne

Alice Countess of Blois

Matilda Duchess of Saxony

So Alienor, I know about you,                                                             

but I do still have a question or two. 

No, I’m not going to ask 

if you really rode to the Crusades 

with a band of Amazon warriors.

I’m not even going to ask 

what it was like to be married 

to the King of England and the King of France 

For sure, I’m not going to ask 

about your lovers or your schemes against Henry II.  

That is none of my business.

I’m your 24th great granddaughter, 

descended from Marie, Alix, Eleanor and Matilda

(John, too, but you were right about him).

What were my ancestors like?

I wonder if any of your daughters were like you—-

a strong-willed woman. 

Your “fruits” were not as well-known as you.  

I know about their titles: 

Eleanor Queen of Castille

“Queen of this” or “Countess of that” 

But what about 

their character, 

their values, 

their intelligence?

Royal titles mean nothing to me.  

You’ve had novels and plays written about you, 

but tell me about them. 

Were they respected and admired?

Were they benevolent leaders?

You had tumultus relationships with your husbands:

 Louis VII and Henry II.  

What did their husbands and children think of them?

You had 10 children—-5 daughters and 5 sons.  

We know your sons were not strong or principled.  

What about your daughters?

What about your daughters?