Look Back (For My Father)

I look back
to see if you are still there
You always were.
I look back
to see your silhouette
outlined by a bright summer sun.
I look back
and barely discern your features.
I look back
and remember
your quick smile
your hearty laugh
your strong hand
engulfing mine
keeping me safe.
I look back
and the sun sets
and your silhouette fades
and only the memory flutters

Perhaps

Perhaps it started last summer when my father whom I hadn't seen in about 17 years almost died. After a stay in the hospital my half-sister moved him and eventually her mother into a nursing home. He was over 700 miles away and the only contact I had was the aforementioned half and whatever nurse or aide I could get on the telephone. So I packed my bags and along with my husband we journeyed back up North to the Big Apple. I've never really wanted to go back. There were far too many painful memories there. It was good that I did go. Because I found the good memories hidden just below the surface. Fathers Day and I visited with my Dad, lying in bed, hooked up to oxygen, unable to get up and use the bathroom (he didn't want me to know about the "diapers") He was so far removed from the vital, social man who raised me until he took off with the shrew who inhabited the other bed. In my heart I knew I would never see him alive again.
Flash forward. A bright and sunny end of summer day. I was driving my son and his girlfriend to school because her car broke down. Wham, a redneck in a dual header truck ran a red light and sent us spinning. Hostile, nasty, unwilling to take responsibility for his actions. My sweet red car that I was so proud of (Old but all mine) crippled. We were fine, the other people were fine (except for their attitudes).
Zap on again. Two weeks, three weeks... my son was at work at a local convenience store when they were robbed. Being the hero I have always told him NOT to be, he jumped a counter, wrestled the crack head to the ground and saved the day. What prompted him to ignore Mom's advice? Said thief shoved a woman up against a soda cooler on his way out the door.
Next day. This is hard for me. You may recall my cheerleader at the nail salon blog from way back. Well, it seems she was out offroading with 2 boys when they lost control of their vehicle and plunged 55 feet over a cliff. The boys survived. She died. That poor little 18 year old, so full of life and energy, was gone. Just like that. I became obsessed with it. Of course I knew her mother, but this went beyond that.
The Sat after these adventures my baby girl got married. Beautiful and in super control. No glitches, no hitches.
Move forward 10 days. It's after 11:00 PM when most of us old folks are winding down or winded out. The dreaded middle of the night phone ringing... my father died. Just like that. I had written to him just the weekend before sending him souvenirs of his grand daughters wedding. The day after he got them he just stopped breathing.
I am an orphan. I am 53 years old and my parents are both gone. But they are together somewhere I am sure. And my mother is berating my father for leaving us for another woman and my father is agreeing it wasn't too smart. And the harridan sits in her bed in the nursing home enjoying all the attention she is getting as the bereaved widow. No funeral. Quickie cremation, no service, no obituary, no final farewell. Thanks half sis. But I did get my own (and my parents) back. Local obituary recorded his passing and joining his beloved wife (MY MOTHER) in heaven. I hope they are having wonderful vacations together, seeing mountains, wading in rivers, having breakfasts in little dives in small towns no one ever visits. And I hope he's driving a big old 59 Caddy!

Truth, Judas, and the American Way

"Human fallibility being what it is, victory and truth do not always go together. Therefore, if you have to always win, you can't always be true.- "Rebbe Nachman of Breslov
Recently there has been a big brouhaha about what appears to be an ancient document ascribed to Judas Iscariot and fondly known as the Gospel of Judas. Now basically I don't have a dog in this fight. But in the past week both I and my son have gotten into sometimes heated discussions with others about whether or not this is even important. For me, from an historical viewpoint, it is important. Anything that might give us a clearer picture of where we come from is of value. Was this truly written by Judas? I don't know. But then I don't know who wrote ANY of the scriptures. Certainly I believe the Bible ("Old Testament") are words inspired by G-d. But these stories and words have been passed down orally for thousands of years before being set down. Even then, they were painstakingly copied by others for more generations, in different languages, or dialects of the same language, by people of different educational ability. In the end it is Faith that carries us through.
I do believe there is a good chance this was written by Judas or by someone close enough to know his side of the story. Being a Jew it doesn't really change much of anything for me.
Sometimes it seems we have gotten so far away from G-d in our concern for proving we are right in our beliefs and everyone must accept these beliefs. Part of what I believe is that we owe others the respect of accepting their beliefs, whether they are in agreement with our own or not. How can I say, don't accept Christ when someone else could just as easily say to me don't accept G-d? By the same token I shouldn't be forced to accept or pray to the god of another just because the majority thinks it is the road to follow.
In the end faith and belief is a very personal thing between a person and G-d (or Jesus or Allah) and no person has the right to dictate, persuade, or coerce another into accepting something different. It isn't about proving you are right and someone else is wrong. It is about behaving in a righteous manner and presenting an example for others to model. I don't try to force Judaism down anyone's throat, don't try to force Jesus down mine.
There goes my vent for today.

Daunting Task

I found the task of chronicling our journey to Britain more than I could handle. My time is so limited these days with planning my daughters wedding for 9/9/06, working on my novel, taking care of my grandsons sometimes, and just living. So, I may toss out bits and pieces here and there but I am back to just plain old blogging.
Wisdom for the day:
"Contemplate the wonders of creation, the Divine dimension of their being, not as a dim configuration that is presented to you from a distance, but as the reality in which you live."- Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook
People often ask why "bad" things happen to them when they are good people or have done no discernible wrong. We have such a small picture of the Infinite. What appears to be a disaster may in fact be a blessing, saving you or someone else from a far greater catastrophe. I met a woman at the nail salon who was an evacuee from Bay St. Louis. She and her husband of many years were in the process of building a home when Katrina hit. They lost everything. Forty years of memories that were being stored, the foundations of a new home, an apartment full of furniture and treasures. They moved here to stay with his parents while they recovered and decided what to do next. A short time after their arrival the husband's father died suddenly leaving the mother alone. At least she would have been alone had they not been there with her. Now I am not saying G-d sent Katrina to move these people into the position of supporting the mother-in-law. But since they are there it follows that perhaps the overall tragedy was softened by the knowledge they could help the parent deal with the grief of her loss. Is the glass half full? Always. Sometimes you just have to slosh the contents around to get the full picture.

Gretna Green

Gretna Green is a small town in the south of Scotland, on the border with England.
Its main claim to fame is the Old Blacksmith's Shop where many runaway marriages were performed. These began in 1753 when an Act of Parliament, Lord Hardwicke's Marriage Act, was passed in England, which stated that if both parties to a marriage were not at least 21 years old, then consent to the marriage had to be given by the parents. This Act did not apply in Scotland where it was possible for boys to get married at 14 and girls at 12 years old with or without parental consent. Since 1929 both parties have had to be at least 16 years old but there is still no consent needed. In England and Wales the ages are now 16 with consent and 18 without.
This led to many elopers fleeing England and making for the first Scottish village they came to — Gretna Green. The blacksmith's shop, built around 1712, became the focal point for the marriage trade. It was opened to the public as a visitor attraction as early as 1887.
We did some shopping here and Neil found some nice single malt which made his day!

On the Road...

The next morning found us up bright and early. After a light breakfast we boarded our tour bus to set off around England. A quick run around London and we off to Stonehenge.
Stonehenge has been something I dreamed of seeing as long as I can remember. As we approached it it seemed smaller than I expected. I thought it was just because I was on the bus. But alas, it is only about 9 or 10 feet tall. However this doesn't detract from the experience of seeing it. First off it is so incredibly old. You can no longer go right up to touch it, thanks to those who left their initials scrawled on it or chipped pieces off for souvenirs. But it is an amazing structure. Standing there on the bare plain it is overwhelming to think of the somewhat primitive people who dragged the stones, figured out how to stand them and make lintels, and used them for whatever mysterious purpose they chose. We all know the ancient calendar, astronomical, and nature worshipping theories so I won't dwell on them. Just know it is something to see.
We then visited Salisbury Cathedral. It was magnificent! Pretty much started as a Norman Cathedral in 1075, it wasn't actually dedicated until 1258. It's been added to and repaired so many times. What a beautiful building. Then we were off to Bath. I am not a great fan of Georgian acrhitecture but they also had a beautiful cathedral. At Chester we stopped for shopping at one of the places I was most eager to see. "The Rows" are essentially a Tudor shopping mall. The layout of the Rows go back to the 13th century. There were shops or warehouses at street level, with a long gallery above, reached by steps from the street level. Living quarters are on the gallery level. In the Middle Ages this would have been a hall, open to the roof and heated by a central hearth. The private rooms, or solar, were above the gallery.
In the Tudor and Jacobean period the upper floors were built out over the gallery, supported on long poles down to the street level. Shops at ground level used the space between the posts to display their goods to passers-by.
We finally ended up in Bristol for the night where Josh found an amusement park of sorts and went bumper car racing with a fellow traveler. Exhausted already and still days to go. But what a fantastic experience so far...

Photo On Line

My contest entry photo can be viewed here:

http://picture.com/display.asp?ID=1729968

London

We woke up bright and early the next morning and after a hearty breakfast headed off on the tour bus to see London. Touring with a group can be fun but it also tends to be a little rushed. We did get to get off the bus and see things. The most amazing thing to me were the tiny cars speeding on the wrong side of the street. (I mean SPEEDING). Now I grew up in a big city so I know what traffic is like. This was wild! However because London seems to run in circles they have instructions painted on the street to indicate which way to look for oncoming traffic. I thought that was pretty impressive.
We stopped at Westminster Cathedral which is magnificent. Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament rose in the background. All I kept thinking was "I'm really here!" I'd wanted to visit London since I was about 11 or 12 so this really was a dream come true. It was freezing cold and we stopped for a hot chocolate from a street vendor.
We had a big lunch at a pub called The Bag O Nails. It was real English food. Josh had traditional Fish and chips and Neil and I had some kind of steak pie. Talk about stick to your ribs food! We shared Winter Punch and Josh was still amazed that he could have alcohol there.
Then it was off to the Tower of London. The Tower is actually many towers. The Crown Jewels are there. There are guard houses and towers. Characters in costume wander about, King Edward and his entourage passed us on the road. Of course we had to see Torture Tower being the freaks we are. Sir Walter Raleigh was kept in a room there for about 12 years. Now his room was quite comfy looking although I imagine it got pretty cold in those days. We saw the site of the gallows which is also where Anne Boleyn was beheaded. (I have always had a soft spot for this second wife of Henry VIII and mother of Elizabeth I)
After viewing Tower Bridge we hopped back on the Tube and headed back to our hotel. I honestly can't remember where or if we had dinner. We hit some more shops and I am positive Neil and Josh ate something but I had finally begun to come down.
The next morning we would begin our adventure through England up into Scotland and Wales. Would we survive?
Stay tuned!

The UK Experience

Where to begin ... Day 1 I guess...
We left Knoxville and flew to Charlotte, NC. It was Josh's first flight and a short one before his MAJOR introduction to the wonderful world of air transportation. We had a bit of a layover in Charlotte, about 2 hours or so. It was a good thing because we had a LONG flight ahead of us.
We all bore the in-flight movies (Wedding Crashers sucked, can't remember the others off hand) and the food was the usual mediocre airline food. Josh seemed to have fun. Neil slept. I was wired and would remained so for about 24 hours.
Arriving in London was amazing. Customs was quick and painless. The train ride from Gatwick to our coach was wonderful. It was still daylight. A bit of snow fell as we sped through the outskirts of the city. We were met at Victoria Station by our hotel link. Then off to the Victoria Park Plaza. Mercifully they let us check in early. Small room but with a view of the city. Double decker buses, cars on the wrong side of the street speeding everywhere. Neil settled in for a nap but Josh and I set out to explore. Checked out a couple of local shops and a grocery store. Very different but somehow the same. Lots of Indians in the city (not Native Americans but India Indians.) Then back to the hotel where Josh zonked out for a nap. I was still wired so I checked out all the brochures, tv channels, anything to help me wind down.
When the guys woke up it was out to explore. We walked to Victoria Station, along streets with huge stores much like NY. Checked out a few food places while deciding where to chow down. Finally settled on a small restaurant called the Scotch Steak House. Not bad but VERY expensive. We soon learned EVERYTHING in the UK is VERY expensive. Food was okay and our waiter was a hoot.
Then back to the hotel to bundle up for our Jack the Ripper Tour. Neil wanted to take a cab but I had already figured out how to get there on the Tube so off we went. How cool. Clean and efficient. "Mind the Gap" became part of our vocabulary.
We arrived at Aldgate East Station to meet up with our Tour. A great tour guide (a lady) who took us along old streets filled with Victorian buildings and modern buildings. Step by step we followed the Rippers path. For a Ripper fan (if you can call it that) it was a dream come true. Photos taken and viewed that evening seemed to show ghostly apparitions. We still don't know...
After a good two hours or so it was back to our hotel for a good nights rest before embarking on our next day's adventure touring London. Neil and I rested while Josh explored the area, finding an Internet Cafe where he could touch base with his friends back home. Then Neil and Josh headed to the bar while I FINALLY began to wind down. British TV sucks. The guys returned with amusing stories of characters met at the bar. I was glad to have missed it. Next chapter - our tour of London, visit to The Tower and more...