Is the problem guns or mental illness?

On August 28, 2025September 2, 2025 By StormyIn Attitude, Children, Faith, PoliticsLeave a comment

The answer is “Yes”!

KitKat lives down the street from the horrific shooting at Annunciation School and Church yesterday. We were scheduled to play pickleball at 11, and she texted me in the morning to tell me there was a live shooter at the school. Since KitKat works from home, she could hear constant sirens as multiple cop cars and ambulances were racing to the scene.

View of Annunciation School and church with multiple police cars and officers outside. — _{Courtesy NBC News}

I had just called her to learn more when her phone started blowing up with messages from friends and family calling to see if she was okay. She told me all her doors were locked, blinds drawn, etc., and said she’d call me back.

I hung up and immediately went to BlueSky to see if I could find out more as the shooting was happening in real time. One post caught my eye. It said something like, “Another school shooting. This time in Minneapolis. Just another Wednesday in America.”

Very soon thereafter, it was confirmed that the shooter was dead. I breathed a sigh of relief that KitKat wasn’t in danger. But for the families involved, the tragedy was still unfolding as parents arrived at the school to learn whether their child had been shot.

An hour or two later, I drove over to KitKat’s house (four miles from my home) to see how she was doing. KitKat’s youngest is a senior at a private school and her school went into lockdown as well. Meanwhile, my three kids have all made it safely through school and college—something that I don’t take for granted. (Well, Blossom is currently in vet school, but she’s in another country where shootings aren’t routine.)

KitKat was still shaken to her core, even though she and her daughter were both “safe.” She worried about which of her neighbor kids may have been injured or worse. She felt the terror the other parents were going through. Of course, her reaction was totally normal, since this kind of incident could trigger PTSD for any parent.

Me, I didn’t feel sadness, so much as anger. This trauma and pain is avoidable. We are the ONLY country in the world that has this issue. Every other civilized country has figured it out. The solution for eliminating mass shootings is not rocket science. Other countries have done it successfully, and all we have to do is follow their example. The solution is sensible gun control. We can still allow citizens to have hunting rifles and handguns to protect their homes and property, but in a controlled and monitored way so that instruments of mass death don’t fall into the hands of the wrong people. It’s a no-brainer, and yet we continue to make excuses while more children die.

Which brings me to my next point: Excuses. Online, a gun-rights advocate was telling me that guns aren’t the issue, mental illness is. Specifically, he posted, “The root cause is that person was sick and mentally unwell. They could have drove a car into a crowded area. You are making this about politics.”

Okay, let’s unpack that mental illness excuse a bit.

First off, other countries have mentally ill people. But they don’t have rampant gun violence. As I pointed out to the online poster, a gun is a much more efficient killing machine than a car, a knife, or a blunt object—and it is designed solely for that purpose. That makes it uniquely deadly and without any other utility (such as an airplane) that helps to justify its existence or accessibility. (And, let me mention here that I could have added that cars and planes are pretty well-regulated, but I left that part out.) So, yes, I am adamant that guns are still the root cause of mass shootings. A mentally ill person that is hell-bent on taking out others can do much more damage, more quickly, with an easily accessible gun than they can with other easily accessible objects.

Now let’s talk about mental illness itself. It very well may be that we have greater numbers of mentally ill people than other countries. I wouldn’t doubt it. The pandemic launched a mental health crisis in this country that we have yet to recover from, and record numbers of young people are experiencing anxiety, depression and self-harm. There have been several causes identified: the pandemic, increased social media use, etc., but I think the real cause is more sinister and pervasive. I believe it’s because so many people lack confidence in a viable future.

When I was a child and teenager, my worldview was formed by my family, teachers, religious leaders, the law, media and society. That worldview went something like this:

Family: My parents want the best for me. My siblings care about me.
Teachers: My teachers want me to succeed and get a good education, so I can get a decent job and be a functioning member of society.
Religious Leaders: God/Jesus loves me and wants me to live a good life in the service of others.
The Law: Police are there to help me if something bad happens. The legal system is uncorrupt, “no man is above the law,” and justice will ultimately prevail.
Media: The media is honest and journalists have integrity.
Society: Most adults are trustworthy and smart. They know what to do and can be trusted to do the right thing. Americans love their country and will defend freedom and the rights of others.

Yes, you can see from this worldview that I had a pretty privileged upbringing, and I realize not everyone has had that experience. However, I think most of us grew up generally believing that the adults in charge actually knew what they were doing and were generally acting responsibly.

As I got older, of course, I realized that wasn’t always the case. But that realization dawned on me gradually—until 2016, when it hit me like a ton of bricks: Donald Trump was so obviously an arrogant idiot, and yet, enough people believed in him to actually elect him as president?! This shook up my worldview. But by this time, I was already 50—an adult with a fully formed brain, an MBA, healthcare coverage and significant savings. In other words, I had resources to cope.

And then came the pandemic, J6, George Floyd, the 2024 election… I witnessed many, many adults that I previously would have considered decent people do the indecent thing. I saw people refuse to wear a mask to protect their neighbors. I saw people refuse to get vaccinated so our country could return to normal. I saw neighbors spread disinformation. I saw people I went to high school with make racist and homophobic remarks about others. I saw siblings defend rioters and killers. Online, I saw a cop—casually kneeling on a man’s neck while he struggled to breathe—and saw many other people defending that heinous action. I know adults who elected a rapist. Adults that voted for people who pose with semi-automatic rifles on their Christmas card, while children continue to get gunned down in school. I saw too many religious leaders (thankfully, none of my own) subverting Christ’s message about loving thy neighbor and instead preaching condemnation and dominion over others.

All of this has been very difficult and painful to reconcile, but I’ve sadly and slowly come to the conclusion that there are far fewer decent people in this world (or at least our country) than I had previously believed. Still, I have a lot more life experience with which to process this information than the average teenager or young adult.

So now, let’s look at the US through the lens of that young person whose brain is still developing: What they are seeing is a deeply divided country. Adults who aren’t trust-worthy being put in charge. Technology that is advancing far more quickly than our ability to put guardrails around it. Uncertainty regarding what is actually human or AI when interacting online. Billionaires being exempted from paying taxes while the number of homeless grows. The media openly lies despite lawsuits. Government leaders lie while under oath. Parents and classmates who align politically with those who advocate harm for their immigrant classmates. The Supreme Court is rolling back rights for women and LGBTQ people. Out-of-control housing costs and inflation that will make it impossible to have a decent standard of living once they are out on their own. Corporate CEOs sacrificing our planet for greed. Widespread confusion about which careers will even be viable five or ten years from now.

Our country is a shit-show. It’s no wonder that many young people have a nihilistic, angry view of the world. I do, too, frankly. As I mentioned earlier, I just have better coping mechanisms. The difference is that young people have only seen the chaos. Whereas, I know that a lot of it can be fixed. Not everything, sadly (particularly as it pertains to our climate), but a lot of it. And yes, it will take a long time to set things right, but I can see a better future out there for them—and for all of us—if we just work together to achieve it.

This is what young people so desperately need: Belief in a better future and confidence that the adults who surround them will work alongside them to help secure it. Getting MAGA out of office and appropriately taxing billionaires will allow us to get this country back on track, but we can’t wait for someone else to fix the problem.

Until we all commit to securing that better future, the lethal combination of mental illness and accessible firearms will continue to devastate our communities.

Week One of the New Regime

On January 25, 2025January 25, 2025 By StormyIn Faith, Family, Politics, RelationshipsLeave a comment

In which Stormy learns that some of her siblings can’t bring themselves to condemn overt Nazi signals.

HOW ARE WE DOING?

This has been a terribly difficult week for anyone grounded in reality with a love for democracy and humanity. I’ve talked to some people who have chosen to stay away from the news for their mental health (which I totally respect). Others are doom-scrolling and sinking into despair.

Rather than abstain from the news, I gave myself one week to monitor Trump’s pardons and initial Executive Orders (EOs), as well as the media, legal system, and Congress’s response to those actions. If you’ve been doing the same, then you know that things look pretty bleak. Now that the pattern is apparent (rolling out Project 2025), I’m going to spend way less time worrying about the news and more time advocating for those people who are casualties of his policies.

Foremost in my thoughts this week has been my large, extended family. Some of whom are directly threatened by Trump’s Executive Orders and some of whom (to my great sadness and dismay) actually voted for Trump or are defending his policies. I have eight siblings, mostly conservative Boomers. While I knew that only one sister actively opposed Trump and that others didn’t like the man but agreed with many of his policies, I had not taken the political pulse of my family in quite some time. If I’m being honest, it’s because I wanted to believe that all of the criminal cases against Trump would have changed their view of the man. I mean, they couldn’t actually vote for a convicted felon, a convicted rapist… would they? This week I got my answer.

I sent an email to my sibs, expressing dismay at Trump’s reaction to Episcopalian Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde, who pleaded with him to have compassion on marginalized individuals living in fear due to Trump’s EOs. Trump and many other so-called Christians attacked her for preaching what is quite literally the gospel of Jesus Christ. I asked my sibs (who I know were all raised Christian like me) whether they could defend his actions.

My brother responded by completely twisting the issue, employing the classic MAGA tactic of Deflection by Defamation, “So the Bishop is against stopping the influx of illegal children being smuggled into this country by the cartels and being sold into sex and labor slavery?” Child sex trafficking, of course, was not the topic of the Bishop’s sermon. He couldn’t seriously address my question. I believe Christians have a responsibility to try and hold other Christians accountable for their behavior—which is what Bishop Budde was doing with Trump and what I was doing with my siblings, but both had the same results.

Then, I tried reasoning with my family about the inherent danger of pardoning violent offenders, many of whom assaulted law enforcement and/or were promising retribution. From both a brother and sister, I got the MAGA “whataboutism” response that ignored my question and redirected it. Comparing apples and oranges.

But the conversation that broke me this week started with my MAGA brother trying to convince me that Musk’s Nazi salutes were examples of him “throwing out love from his heart” to the crowd… which is a pretty ridiculous take when you look at the defiant triumphant smirk on Musk’s face. Yeah, that’s love alright… Love of fascism.

Let’s be clear, this gesture was followed by a sentence that said, “My heart goes out to you. It is thanks to you, that the future of civilization is assured.“ Given Trump doesn’t believe in combatting climate change, it’s pretty easy to see what Musk’s talking about there.

To bolster his argument, my brother also included still photos of various Democrats with their arm in the air, using another one of MAGA’s favorite tactics—false equivalency.

Of course, if Musk truly had made a gesture that was misinterpreted, he could just explain that, right? I mean, since he posts dozens of times a day on X. However, he never issued clarification statement and instead chose to mock those showing concern by making a bunch of Nazi puns. (You can’t make this shit up.) So, in that exchange, I got to learn that my brother thinks Nazi’s are okay.

Later, I found a 2023 clip from a Tesla conference where Musk literally makes a gesture of showing love from his heart and—no surprise here—it looks nothing like his Nazi salute from this week.

I sent this out to my siblings to further my case. My sister responded by saying that the Anti-Defamation League disagreed that it was a Nazi salute. (If you’ve been following this, you know that they initially gave him benefit of the doubt —which is not the same as disagreeing—but that statement received an enormous amount of backlash. Once Musk refused started making bad Nazi puns, they responded more forcefully. She also blamed his neurodiversity. Now, I know quite a few people who are on the spectrum—heck, my daughter Lucky thinks I may be—but exactly 0% of them “accidentally” give Nazi salutes.

Despite explaining this to my sibs, nobody admitted, “You’re right, it looks like he may be a Nazi…my bad.” Instead, several of them accused me of hate, cyber-bullying, and making them feel demeaned by bringing up these uncomfortable topics in the first place. (Sigh.)

Apparently, saying that it’s wrong to make apologies for Nazi behavior is worse than… actual Nazi behavior.

My beloved, dear old dad was a WWII veteran, so seeing his children minimize a Nazi salute breaks my heart. And yet I know that seeing his kids argue would break his heart. I’m at a loss, though, of how to move forward. I’ve told my sibs that I love them, but I won’t stay silent about important issues for the sake of family harmony. That wasn’t a winning strategy in 1930s Germany, and it’s not a good strategy today.

As a result of all this, I don’t expect much interaction with my siblings in the months or years ahead. I’ve told them that if they break their way out of the cult, I’ll be the first to celebrate with them, but today I simply don’t see that happening. Thankfully, I DO have one sister who shares my views on Trump, and she has been a literal lifesaver to me over the last decade. (Rock on, Barbigrrrrl!) I also have scores of nieces and nephews who understand the dangers of MAGA and are trying to navigate their own strained and complicated relationships with their parents and some cousins. So my extended family isn’t gone from my life, it’s just contracted a bit.

I know that many of you have had similarly heart-breaking conversations this week… I wanted to let you know you’re not alone. But I also want to remind you that only 32% of eligible voters actually voted for Trump. He does not have a mandate to do the things he is doing, so it’s critical that everyone who opposes him be brave and vocal about what’s happening, so as not to normalize or meekly accept any of this.

When people who have been warning against Trump for years suddenly go quiet, then the people around them start wondering, “If they’re worried about retribution or being identified as ‘anti-Trump,’ maybe I should be scared too?” And that, in a nutshell, is how fascists gain power. Therefore, I’m asking you from the bottom of my heart (note to insert correct emoji vs. Heil Hitler: 🫶🏻)… Do not let the fascists win.

What now? Stormy gears up for the long haul by creating a sanity plan

On November 13, 2024 By StormyIn Attitude, Faith, Family, Getting older, Health/fitness, Marriage, Politics, Relationships, Work/careersLeave a comment

Over the last several years, Stormy has been seeking direction.

When I was unexpectedly laid off in 2022, my subsequent job search revealed what I had always suspected—that marketing is a particularly age-sensitive field and age discrimination is real. Yet, it felt too soon for me to retire, so I decided to do some fractional CMO consulting work while I figured out my next steps. Marketing consulting is a tough gig for an introvert. In addition to marketing your clients products and services, you have to spend equal time marketing yourself.

As I was in this consulting phase, another marketing colleague was telling me about their new client who ran a MedSpa type of business, offering Botox, fillers and other “aesthetic” treatments. I was surprised (and dismayed) to learn that their target market was in their 30s! And while I won’t judge anyone for personally choosing treatments that may make them feel better about their appearance, I know that to effectively sell these products to thirtysomethings, a marketer would need to inject fear and insecurity into their hearts before they would agree to inject Botox into their young faces.

In today’s uncertain business environment, it’s difficult to pass up a paying client… yet, I’ve reached the stage in my career where I’m only interested in working with people and organizations whose values, products and services align with mine. Yet, I genuinely enjoy the social aspects of working, learning new things, and making a difference.

Meanwhile, on the home front, Oskar and I were discovering that you can’t outrun Parkinson’s indefinitely—although God knows, we’ve tried. Changes in his condition, like no longer being able to drive, are now requiring me to spend more time being a caregiver (a role that, anyone could tell you, I wasn’t exactly born for).

The progression of Oskar’s PD symptoms also led to a host of related lifestyle changes this past summer: Moving from a condo with two stories to an apartment where all our living space is on one level, renting out our vacation condo, and downsizing half of our “stuff” to fit our belongings into the new, smaller space.

When I had time to reflect on my situation—not loving consulting work, wanting more control over the products, services or causes that my efforts were going toward, and the need for a more flexible schedule at home to accommodate my husband’s illness—I had to ask myself… Was it finally time for me to retire? And what would that even look like? Oskar’s daily challenges made the stereotypical active retirement—lots of activities and travel—less feasible, so how would I fill my time? KitKat and I started this blog more than a decade ago (can you believe it?!) and in that time, I’ve reinvented myself again and again. Yet still I’ve felt aimless and discouraged. A friend suggested to me that as I face what is likely to be a more challenging stage with Oskar’s illness, that I needed find a way to not only accept my reality, but embrace it. To live a life of purpose vs. mere tolerance.

I’m still nearly a decade away from “retirement age,” but if there is one benefit of having a spouse be diagnosed with a serious condition at a relatively young age it’s this: It forced us to financially prepare for an unknown future. As a result, we never really subscribed to “lifestyle creep” as our incomes grew, but rather, we put as much as we could into savings—so that if either of us had to retire early, we would have the freedom to do that.

I was mulling over my friend’s advice, but with all the downsizing/moving activity this summer, it was easy for me to push out any decisions about what to do next. So that’s what I did. I also knew that once the move was complete the election season would be in full throttle, and I couldn’t make a decision about my future without knowing what our nation’s future might hold. With Biden stepping down and Harris quickly pulling together an amazing level of support, I was hopeful and excited that we might finally get our country back on track. But I awoke in the early hours of Wednesday morning to headlines that absolutely shattered half the country.

Talk about an unknown future!

After the initial shock wore off—replaced by a profound disappointment in my fellow Americans—I was surprised to find that I was oddly accepting of the situation. While I absolutely wish things had gone the other way, I firmly believe that some people can only learn important life lessons the hard way. And, unfortunately, this appears to be one of those times for many Americans.

Anyone who has tried to reason with a MAGA cult member knows that you can’t. It’s the definition of An Exercise in Futility. Yet, because I have family members in the cult, I nevertheless persisted. For so much of the last decade, I have felt like we were at war with the mythological Hydra: Chop off one ugly head and a couple more appeared in its place. Lies. Disinformation. Hatred. Racism. Misogyny. Homophobia. Over and over. In addition to any personal challenges I was facing, I was constantly anxious and distracted by the news and social media. I found myself ignoring my health and using alcohol to calm my nerves. I lost my sense of joy.

Just another day of defending the truth.

Last week, with my acceptance that Harris lost the election, came a realization that that particular battle was over. No, I’m not throwing in the towel on democracy. I will continue to work toward it. However, I’m no longer going to suit up and stare down the Hydra day after day. I’ve sacrificed a decade of my mental and physical health to an awful cult and I’m not going to give them another day. One week after winning the election, the incoming administration is already proposing a number of changes designed to undermine democracy. It’s clear to me that winning back our country will require a much longer-term strategy.

So where does that leave Stormy? One of my warrior outlaw in-laws sent a text on Wednesday saying she was working on a “sanity plan” for surviving these years under a wannabe dictator. I thought that was a great idea, but I took a slightly different approach. First, by drafting a personal Mission & Values Statement. Second, by drafting a Wellness Strategy. Together, I hope they will serve as my personal sanity plan. Here’s a high-level summary:

Mission & Values Statement

I believe that joy and positive relationships are essential to life, but each person must figure that out on their own (and some are slow learners). I will focus on cultivating joy in my own life by bringing my daily activities into greater alignment with my values:

Maintain perspective – The problems of our society won’t be solved overnight or even in my lifetime. Realize that I have been given privilege and talents that I should use to help others, while also taking the time to appreciate and enjoy my one life.

Encourage beauty and creativity – I will do this by spending more time creating interesting and beautiful things, appreciating art and beauty, and helping other people live more creative lives.

“Do all the good you can…” – My whole career has been using my writing to persuade people and win customers, now I plan to leverage that experience to advance the causes I most care about. I also want to teach some of these skills to disadvantaged groups to help level the playing field.

Reclaim my religion – As a Christian, I’ve been particularly frustrated with the Christian Nationalist movement, as it basically contradicts every lesson Jesus taught and is responsible for driving people from the church in droves. Rather than abandon Christianity, I’m going to reclaim it and work harder to make sure people understand what Jesus preached—love for one’s neighbor without distinction for race, creed, gender or orientation.

Stretch and grow – I will continue to try new things and won’t be afraid of failure. Since I’m no longer chasing a paycheck, I can no longer be “fired.” This means that I really cannot fail at anything I do (so long as I learn something along the way). I also know that engaging in learning and discovery are the best ways to stay interested and interesting.

Accept that you can’t do it all – There are myriad ways for each of us to be useful in this world and everyone has a different role to play. Therefore, I may as well choose projects that fuel my personal enthusiasm and renew my spirit.

Rest unapologetically – I’m going to implement my Wellness Strategy and pace myself, so I can continue these activities for as long as I can. I’m in this for the long haul.

And, because I think this is extra important for so many of us now, I’d also like to share how I intend to do this.

Wellness Strategy

Limit exposure to 47 – This goes without saying. No more sneering orange face, no more grating, unintelligible voice. I can read analysis and transcripts to understand what he’s up to, but if I never see or hear from him again, that would be just ducky with me. Fortunately, there’s a good chance I’ll outlive him, and that will be a happy day indeed.

Limit the news – Like many, I’ve become absolutely disgusted with the mainstream media for normalizing a despotic criminal and treating him like a legitimate candidate. Moreover, exposure to news 24/7 is unhealthy. Instead, I’ll be checking in once a day to get a synopsis from a few trusted sources and do my best to silence the chatter.

Limit social media – After the last election, I did some extreme curation of my social feeds. This was a lifesaver, and I will continue to keep my social media activity limited and positive. I want to spend more of my life offline than online.

Stick with my tribe – Spend time strengthening my relationships with those who share my values. Avoid spending time with those who don’t. This isn’t the same as ostracizing those on the other side. It’s just choosing to preserve my peace. I’ll continue to work toward their deprogramming (“thoughts and prayers” anyone?), but I will not spend my time socializing with them. Unfortunately, this extends to family members. When some of them are willing to put a target on the backs of others, they cease to be family for me. If/when they realize their grave mistake and are ready to accept responsibility, I’ll be happy to welcome them back in my life.

Recharge and reset – Identify activities to proactively recharge my personal batteries before I “power off.” Spend time each week on creative projects to nourish my soul. Get out and attend museums, plays, lectures and other mind-broadening events.

Embrace exercise and nature – Be physically active. Workout daily. Get out in nature regularly. Soak up the sunshine. Experience the weather.

Focus on my health – Eat and drink in a healthy way. Reduce my sugar intake. No more using alcohol as an anti-anxiety med. No reliance on comfort meals that leave me feeling sluggish. Catch up on all the doctor’s appointments and screenings that I pushed out of the way when I was stressed or busy.

Distract by diving in deep – Do meaningful volunteer work or start a side hustle or two. Learn new skills and subjects in order to advocate effectively. Keep myself distracted with useful, purposeful activity vs. doomscrolling and worrying about the future. Cross each bridge when I come to it.

I found this exercise good for my psyche. It gives me a sense of purpose, but more importantly, it restores a sense of balance that I’ve been lacking for far too long. If last week’s election is leaving you feeling unmoored, I recommend taking a stab at your own sanity plan… and I’d love to hear about it. I want all my righteous peeps to not only survive, but thrive, in the difficult years ahead.

The Irresistibility of Jesus and Democracy

On January 14, 2021November 14, 2024 By StormyIn Faith, PoliticsLeave a comment

I swore to myself that I would move on from politics and start posting about other pressing matters, but after last week’s siege on the Capitol as the grand finale of the #StopTheSteal rally, I had one last thought (or maybe it’s two thoughts?) that I wanted to share.

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m deeply disturbed by the number of so-called Christians that have been supporting 45, particularly those who continue to support him even after last week’s insurrection. I understand that many of them claim their pro-life beliefs compel them to support the Republican party, and that the end justifies the means. But unlike the boats that sank in this summer’s Trump parade, that argument doesn’t hold water. At this point, supporting Trump for his anti-abortion stance is akin to excusing those who kill abortion doctors because they’re sacrificing one life for many. The right-wing violence demonstrated over the last week shows that these self-proclaimed pro-lifers are now aligning themselves with the very types of people they claim to oppose.

The end does not justify the means. Period.

The “Christian” segment of Trump supporters is led by the white, evangelical Christians. I’ve always been leery of evangelists, because in my experience many of them focus on the wrong things—turning evangelism into a contest for salvation points or, worse, using it as a get-rich-quick scheme. (Incidentally, for a really thorough and thoughtful discussion on evangelism, I recommend this article.) For my agnostic friends who aren’t inclined to read that, I’ll put it more simply: I believe that the absolute, most-effective method of evangelism is not just to share Jesus’s words, but to model his behavior. It seems obvious, but it’s rarely done. Instead, I’ve found that many Evangelicals focus on more obscure parts of the Bible to try to browbeat the “unchurched” into submission. Case in point: Do you realize that Jesus never said one word related to LGBTQIA-related issues or abortion? Nope. He did, however, very clearly instruct us to love our neighbors as ourselves. I don’t believe Jesus wants abortions to happen, but I believe he wants us to solve that problem through compassion and by taking care of one another—not through fines and penalties. He gave us the tools we need to solve the problem using cooperation, kindness and generosity. All we have to do is get to work.

This browbeating—which is increasingly being reinforced with physical violence—is one of the many ways that Christians who support Trump are actually driving people AWAY from Christ. And they will need to answer to Jesus for that, because that’s the exact opposite of what he commanded.

Granted, aspiring to live like Christ may be difficult task, but it’s also the only sure-fire way to draw people to him. His example on this earth—and the fact that he’s still such a large part of our daily conversation two thousand years later—is a testament to his “irresistibility.” The truth is, it’s hard to resist the overwhelming pull of compassion that Jesus demonstrated: feeling understood, being challenged to be the best version of yourself, yet knowing that you are forgiven for your short-comings and are still a beloved Child of God. Who wouldn’t be drawn to that kind of energy? The unfortunate reason more people haven’t experienced that is because most Christians are really bad about actually living Christ’s example. (I include myself in that indictment, although I continue to try my best.)

In other words, I think Evangelicals should stop haranguing people to accept Christ as their personal savior and start showing them what Jesus stood for instead. I guarantee they will win more souls for Jesus with that approach…no conversion therapy necessary.

It’s like the ridiculous, so-called “War on Christmas.” There IS no war on Christmas. Like Jesus, Christmas is too darned irresistible. That’s why you occasionally see Hindus and Jews capitulating to their children’s request for a Christmas tree. They may not embrace the Christmas story about a virgin giving birth to the Son of God (which, spoiler alert, didn’t actually occur on December 25th), but they often can’t resist the trappings: the lights, the tinsel, the carols, the sentimental movies and peace-on-earth-good-will-toward-men. The only thing that many non-Christians request of their Christian neighbors is to acknowledge that not everyone celebrates Christmas and to not react to the phrase “Happy Holidays” as though it’s a curse. Which, if you think about it, is not an unreasonable request to make of someone whose faith compels them to “do unto others as you would have done unto you.”

“America First” is a race to the bottom.

And there’s another corollary to this that applies to a troubling policy that many conservative Christians are embracing: (White) Nationalism. Jesus made it very clear that salvation was for all nations, not a select few. The USA isn’t “special” in terms of being God’s favorite—as much as it may pain some Evangelicals to hear that. Moreover, this line of thinking is short-sighted and stupid. The pandemic has shown us that no country can afford to stand alone during a time of crisis. It took researchers sharing information globally to identify the virus and how it spreads. Likewise, multiple vaccines could not have been developed in record time without international collaboration. Climate change is another example: We ALL will suffer its effects—no matter how many walls we build or security checkpoints we put in place in an attempt to secure our borders. Our economic stability is also dependent on global cooperation. In short, we need to be a nation focused on “win-win,” not “win-lose.”

“America First” is not only a misguided and dangerous philosophy, it’s also unnecessary. For those who insist it is needed to spread democracy throughout the world, I would respond that our Constitution is a beautiful, sexy thing… the envy of many. And the promise of what our democracy could be (but admittedly has not yet achieved) is nearly as irresistible—in terms of government—as Jesus is to religion. Therefore, if we can just model a democracy where all men and women are truly created equal, with equal protection under the law, and equal opportunity for life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, then we won’t NEED to sanction other governments in an attempt to move them toward democracy. It will happen organically. In the same interconnected world described earlier, other nations that are exposed to the freedom and justice of the United States will eventually demand the same. And the Vladimir Putins and Donald Trumps of this world will be limited in their influence and power.

We just need to focus on two tasks to bring about real change:

1. Love thy neighbor as thyself

2. Strive for equality and justice for all

The challenge before us is these are both “Easier said than done.” It may not happen overnight. However, if we rise to the challenge, I guarantee it will happen.

Christianity or Karma: An election paradox

On October 2, 2020November 14, 2024 By StormyIn Attitude, Faith, PoliticsLeave a comment

On May 2, 2011, Oskar and I were watching TV when programming was disrupted by breaking news: Osama bin Laden had just been killed in a secret raid. I turned to Oskar, high-fived him (!) and then was immediately ashamed. I had just high-fived my husband over a man being murdered—what was wrong with me?

Like all Americans, I had been devastated by the terrorist attacks on 9/11 and viewed Osama bin Laden as Public Enemy #1. My gut reaction to his death was a rather base reflex triggered by all of the anxiety he had caused me and my fellow citizens. As a Christian, I condemn evil in all its forms, but I also know that it’s not my job to condemn another human being (even if that human being does evil things) OR to celebrate their death. I was able to forgive myself for what I considered a very human reaction, and I prayed that in bin Laden’s final moments as the raid was occurring, he somehow recognized his sins and was able to make his peace with God.

History repeats itself

Fast-forward to last night: I read that Hope Hicks, a close aide of Trump’s, had tested positive for Covid-19. My immediate gut reaction was a mixture of excitement and hope, thinking: “Maybe he’ll get it and this nightmare will end!” Then again, as with the bin Laden incident, I felt ashamed.

This morning, I awoke to the news that my wish had come true when my sister texted me, “Is it wrong to say I hope he dies? Or at least gets very sick?” I responded, confessing that I had had a similar thought the previous night. Then I reflected on whether it was morally justified to wish for some kind of karmic justice… After all, Trump is not an innocent victim of the coronavirus the way that millions of others have been. He has had top epidemiological experts advising him, access to the latest data/research, any precautionary equipment (tests, PPE) that he could possibly need, and a whole team of sycophants willing to cater to his every whim, and he has willfully chosen not to utilize any of these resources in a responsible manner. Furthermore, as a result of his negligence and his lies, 200,000 people have died.

So, my thinking is that if the virus is among us and someone is going to catch it—or even die from it—then there is a certain poetic justice in it being him. But, looking at the situation from my Christian perspective, I can’t “celebrate” that, in the same way that President Obama never celebrated the death of bin Laden, even though he was the one who ordered the raid. Instead, I will follow the lead of both Joe Biden and Nancy Pelosi who have exuded admirable class when they—honestly, I believe—express concern for those GOP members afflicted with the virus and pray for their recovery. Because that’s what decent human beings do in a civilized society. (Frankly, I’m not sure I would be able to display as much grace as they have, had I undergone the many personal attacks they’ve had to endure from Trump.)

Was I guilty of giving oxygen to hatred?

And that last sentence sums up my biggest issue with Trump. The thing that I hate most about him is that he has exposed my own hatred. I really loathe the man. I hate his policies, his greed and his racism, yes, but more than that, I hate the way that he makes a mockery of our democracy and plays Americans—even his most devoted followers—for absolute fools. And I hate the fact that he has done irreparable damage to my relationships with people who fail to denounce him. Because, by accepting (or even tolerating) his lies, his white supremacist ideology, his fascist dictator-like posturing, his condemning of the media, his threats of violence if the election doesn’t go his way—they have lost all of my respect. I can never look at them the same way or continue to have a social relationship with them.

And I hate myself for hating him so much. While I recognize that “hating the hater” is not the same as “being a hater” (after all, as we learned in math class the double negative cancels itself out) holding that kind of hatred in one’s heart is a poisonous proposition.

Resentment is like drinking poison and hoping that it will kill your enemies.
Nelson Mandela

I realized earlier this week that I’ve been generally unhappy for a very long time. Yet when I examine my life, most things in it are going pretty well. I have a supportive spouse and family, I’m financially secure, I live in a comfortable home, have good health, etc. While I don’t like dealing with this pandemic any more than the next person, I’ll freely admit that it’s affected me much less dramatically than it has many people. In fact, I consider myself fortunate in many ways. So, it didn’t take me long to identify the source of my unhappiness: Trump. Or, perhaps more specifically, the hatred and chaos that he thrives upon and brings out in other people.

And then I had another realization: I have just one life and, for-better-or-worse, this is it. Yet each day I’ve been giving mindshare over to this horrible person who doesn’t deserve an ounce of my respect, let alone any of my waking thoughts. Consequently, I had been giving oxygen to the hatred that he thrives upon. Worse, I’d been letting him steal my happiness in the same way he’s been trying to steal the election. And then I got determined… I’ll be damned if I let him steal my joy!

Instead, I vowed to redirect my election anxiety into optimism and positivity. So, while I won’t wish a Darwinian death upon the cause of my unhappiness, what I hope for—and will pray for—is that this experience does two things:

1) Wakes up the 1/3 of the population that thinks this virus is a “hoax,” “just like the flu,” or “will disappear” so that they start wearing their damn masks and stop undermining the rest of us who are trying to get this pandemic under control (so we can avoid further needless death and rebuild our economy), and

“The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.”
Martin Luther King, Jr.

2) Gives 45 an excuse to bow out of the race (for health reasons). As a classic narcissist who is facing the near-certain humiliation of losing, this would allow him to save face. I don’t even care if he resigns while proclaiming that he has been the Greatest President of All Time. I just want him gone. Gone—so we can shore up our badly battered democracy, control the outbreak of this virus, begin to recover our economy, and provide basic human rights and justice for ALL Americans.

However, since we can’t be confident this will happen, we have to double-down on the original plan of making sure Biden is elected—and preferably by a landslide so as to minimize any post-election violence. My dream is to make this a reality:

https://twitter.com/i/status/1311482274354003969

The takeaway…

If you have NOT yet voted, PLEASE DO SO. And vote EARLY, so there is time to straighten out any possible registration or postal issues. 2020 has been one for the history books. But we need to do our part if we’re to succeed in containing the chaos to just this one calendar year. If you have any questions about HOW to vote, WHERE to vote, how to register, etc., send us a message and we’ll help you determine a safe voting plan.

Why ProTrump is NOT Prolife

On October 19, 2016December 16, 2019 By StormyIn Faith, Politics, Uncategorized1 Comment

A lot of prolife Christians are in a quandary over Donald Trump. They realize he’s a fool, yet know that he’s likely to appoint a conservative judge to the Supreme Court, which is a necessary step if they hope to overturn Roe v. Wade. As a result, many are conflicted about how to vote on November 8^th.

Now Stormy has been prolife for as long as she has been aware of the issue. In grade school, back in the post-Roe v. Wade late-70s, a women’s group visited our parochial school classroom to tell us about the issue of abortion. But they didn’t just bring pamphlets and rhetoric, they brought “visual aids” in the form of embryos and fetuses in glass jars preserved in formaldehyde. (Were they aborted? miscarried? I don’t know the details, I was only about 10 or 11 at the time.) All I can tell you is that peering at their tiny features in different stages of development affirmed to me that 1) they were tiny people 2) it was impossible to tell at what stage they went from being “a blob of cells” to tiny people. One of them even had a bruise where his/her head was hitting the glass—a very “human” reaction that I could relate to as a fairly rough-and-tumble girl who was usually sporting a few bruises and scrapes herself.

Obviously, no school could get away with this today. Not even a Catholic school. Parents would declare it traumatizing, although if society is deeming these babies to be mere tissue, than it shouldn’t be any more traumatizing than looking at gallstones in a science class. But I digress. My point in telling you this story was only to point out that I’m writing this as someone who is opposed to abortion in all but the most extreme cases.

So, as a prolife Christian who has voted on this issue myself in the past, I’m not experiencing any such conflict. Why? It’s simple. Trump is not prolife. Being prolife extends far beyond appointing conservative judges or regulating against abortion. It means respecting life. It means working to ensure that everyone has health insurance and access to affordable birth control. It means fathers stepping up to take care of their children. It means creating sensible gun laws to safeguard against senseless violence. It means offering compassion to victims of war. It means respecting and supporting people with disabilities. It means expanding education to strengthen future generations.

Ultimately, being prolife means respecting, affirming and supporting life—at all ages and stages. It means advocating for life every. single. time. Trump has proven over and over that the only life he cares about is his own.

The number of abortions is at its lowest point since Roe v. Wade due to a number of factors, including education and better access to birth control. These are the kinds of issues pro-lifers need to focus on—and vote on—in the next election because the values that Trump preaches ultimately show a lack of respect for human life…a “looking out for Number One” mentality that inevitably will only lead to more loss of life.

Living fearless

On December 15, 2015December 15, 2015 By StormyIn Attitude, Children, Faith, Parents2 Comments

Sometime in my early 30s, I had an epiphany about fear. I had wanted to adopt an orphaned child (not an infant) ever since I was a kid myself, but when I finally got to the stage in my life where I could afford the process, I had doubts. I already had two wonderful biological children and a happy marriage. What if I adopted a kid who was deeply troubled and screwed all of that up? This fear was holding me back.

Meanwhile, a guest speaker at church told us about a mission trip she had taken to work with Mother Teresa in India. I won’t describe the story that changed my perspective (I’m sure it would lose something in my retelling) but the upshot of it was I realized I needed to have faith in a good outcome and plunge ahead despite my fear.

Those of you who have met my daughter Blossom know that I was immeasurably blessed by my leap of faith.

A conscious choice to “Be not afraid”

Fast forward a few years to when my husband was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease. A highly individualized illness, some people end up in a wheelchair in five years. Others still work for 15 or 20 years. About a quarter of those diagnosed end up with dementia. There was plenty to fear, but we made a conscious decision to not immerse ourselves too deeply in what “could be” and just focus on what he still could do in the here and now. So far, that decision has served us well, and we’ve been pleasantly surprised by the relatively slow progression of his disease.

I recently was alluding to some challenging family issues, mainly concentrated around my elderly parents, and I’ve determined that the source of these difficulties comes back to this same issue: Fear. My mother is living in fear more and more as she gets older. It’s causing her world to contract and leaving her confused and angry. It’s challenging for her adult children because the fear colors her perception—and our concern about her well-being is interpreted as attempts to take away her freedom.

We have nothing to fear but fear itself… and daycare costs

There are many times our lives require us to overcome our fear in order to move to the next phase: Going away to college, moving out on your own, interviewing for a job, asking someone on a date, proposing marriage, deciding to bring a child into the world, letting your children strike off on their own, learning to trust your adult children, learning to trust that things will work out, and finally trusting that, even when death is inevitable, God is by your side.

Having a baby is a common example. Many young couples fear the responsibility of parenting. With news articles estimating that it will cost a quarter of a million dollars to raise a newborn to age 18, it’s no wonder. Yet most of us plow ahead anyway—adjusting our lifestyles along the way—and consider ourselves the richer for it (even while our bank account takes a nosedive). Which brings me to my next point:

Bad things still will happen on occasion…but you’ll be okay

Living a fearless life doesn’t mean that you’ll experience smooth sailing from that point on. Some of the things you fear may actually come to fruition. But there is power in forging ahead anyway and usually you’ll find that 1) Most of the time the thing you feared doesn’t actually happen, or 2) On the rare occasion the bad outcome occurs, you’ll cope with it the best you can, learn something in the process and feel even stronger when you emerge on the other side. And because you’re now living a fearless life, you’ll view these episodes as infrequent storm clouds in your otherwise sunny life.

quote-you-can-sway-a-thousand-men-by-appealing-to-their-prejudices-quicker-than-you-can-convince-robert-a-heinlein-41-65-49 Recent terrorist activity seems to have activated our society’s collective fear response and the result is ugly. The birth of this country was not a fear-based decision. Our forefathers (and mothers) had good reason to fear the quest for independence—after all, one man’s revolution is another man’s treason—but the shimmering ideal of a free nation was too enticing not to move forward despite their fears. Most of us lucky enough to be born in this country are here because we have ancestors that didn’t let fear stop them from leaving their homes behind in pursuit of a better life. As we watch our neighbors react to terrorist attacks by proposing fear-based restrictions on innocent people in the name of “protecting ’Merica” let’s remember that nothing could be LESS American.

The Ghost of Christmas Past

On December 21, 2013December 20, 2014 By StormyIn Attitude, Entertaining/leisure, Faith, Parents1 Comment

leethod_1351460522_Target-Lady — If the Crazy Target Lady doesn’t scare you straight, you’re beyond saving.

I have a confession to make: Christmas doesn’t really stress me out. That’s not particularly scandalous, but admitting this during the holiday season feels a bit like a betrayal to my hurried and harried sisterhood. Because, let’s face it: Many of the tasks that comprise “making the season bright” (e.g., baking, decorating, Christmas shopping, entertaining) often fall to the female gender.

I’m not trying to be sexist about gender roles. If we bring Christmas cookies or chocolate truffles to a holiday party, everyone knows the compliments go to my husband, the baker in the family. (Not surprisingly, I have trouble following directions.) But I think there’s some truth in my generalization.

What’s more, when it comes to holiday merrymaking, the motivations of men and women are often different. For example, a man going all Clark Griswold on his house is likely doing it because he gets a kick out of the results. But oftentimes his wife who is going from shop to shop trying to find gifts for teachers and distant in-laws is doing it more to fulfill an expectation than as a labor of love.

I used to be this woman until I realized it was sucking all the fun out of the holidays and really—once they stop being fun, what’s the point? Well, my spiritual side would argue that the point of Christmas is Christ. But I found that the whole religious aspect of Christmas was overshadowed by the incessant busyness and blatant commercialism, as well. Where were the moments of quiet reflection? Where was the magic?

One January, as I was taking down ornaments and swearing to myself that I’d “do it differently next year,” I composed a letter to myself. I’ve always loved “A Christmas Carol” and watching the musical “Scrooge” is a family holiday tradition, so let’s call this missive a “Message from the Ghost of Christmas Past.” The note starts like this:

Every year you do the same thing, Stormy. So this is a letter from your post-holiday, wiser self. I hope you will heed her message.

Then it has seven bullets of advice, addressing topics like:

Cookies – “We are never at a loss for cookies at any holiday gathering. Three types…are plenty.”

Gifts – “Buy little hostess gifts when you see them. They always come in handy. Keep track of what you get the kids so you don’t buy too much.”

Christmas Cards – “Keep it simple. Don’t feel compelled to send to people you aren’t connected to…and don’t worry about the ‘but they sent us one’ game.”

Traditions – “These are what make the holidays fun…Make Christmas about events and not things. Smaller gatherings are fun and meaningful.”

These are merely excerpts—my actual instructions to myself were more detailed and specific. I printed out my message and packed it away with my Christmas decorations where it was promptly forgotten until the following December.

The next year, when I pulled out my garlands and stockings the weekend after Thanksgiving, I spotted the note from Christmas Past and decided to heed my own advice. After all, if you can’t believe yourself, who can you trust?

That season, I took a low-key approach to the holidays and was pleasantly surprised. I was relaxed. Nobody died when I decided to skip sending Christmas cards that year. And we still enjoyed all of our favorite traditions. What a revelation! I felt like I owed a debt of thanks to my stressed self.

Since then, my Christmas preparations have varied somewhat—some years I make more of an effort, some years less. But whatever I do, I do it for the joy of it and not because it’s an expectation. This flexibility has been critical this year as my mom’s surgery and recovery has consumed a good portion of the free time that my siblings and I would have to spend on holiday preparations.

By now my low-key approach to the holidays has become second nature. Yet, I still keep the note to remind me of my frazzled, younger years. There are some advantages to growing older and as Scrooge himself can attest, it’s never too late to master the fine art of keeping Christmas.

“I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach!”
― Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

Power of the Clover!

On June 28, 2013June 29, 2013 By StormyIn Attitude, Children, Entertaining/leisure, Faith, Getting older, Health/fitness, Work/careersLeave a comment

Anyone living in Minnesota has felt a bit unlucky this year. As KitKat and I have mentioned several times, we’ve had unprecedentedly lousy weather this spring/summer. In addition, work has been relentlessly busy. It’s all a bit wearing on the spirit, so in early June—when a brief break in the rain allowed me to get to some long-neglected yardwork—I found this:

We were preparing for my youngest child’s graduation open house and our home really isn’t large enough to host her many family and friends, so when I found the clover, I was excited. I may not believe in gambling for the big jackpot, but finding such a lucky token surely must mean something, right?

Feeling a bit beaten down and daunted by the task of getting my house and yard into tip-top shape for the party, I decided to embrace the power of the clover. No matter what transpired in the coming week, I was going to view it as good fortune. I believe that our outlook is mostly a matter of attitude, so if I used this symbol of good fortune as a reminder of my blessings, it would bring about a change in attitude that would ultimately benefit me. Well, that was my theory at any rate.

I started the week with my attitude adjustment firmly planted. I was lucky! Good things were going to happen at every turn! I just needed to keep my outlook positive and my eyes open. The previous three months may have been a bit—well, sucky—but the tide was a turnin’ now and everything would be going my way!

Despite my positive outlook, the week was inauspicious. While nothing terrible happened, it wasn’t exactly like Lady Luck was smiling upon me. I was a bit disappointed in my botanical harbinger. Then, at the end of the week, things took a decided turn for the worst. We had a system issue at work. This wouldn’t be terribly catastrophic except that we had just had a similar problem—one that cost our company time and money and our clients considerable disruption—a mere month earlier. We hadn’t experienced such a significant disruption to our business before that, and the thought that this new incident might mirror the earlier one was weighing heavily on our minds as we sought to troubleshoot the situation. “Power of the Clover!” I invoked. Maybe this was the situation for which the luck was intended? Well, the problem was resolved much quicker than previously, but it didn’t feel so much like good luck as just an avoidance of really bad luck.

Disenchanted with my clover, I turned my attention back to other matters. My daughter’s graduation was troubling me and not just because we were hosting a big party and the weather wasn’t cooperative. This was my youngest child’s graduation from high school. I would soon be an “empty nester.” Moreover, my birthday was looming ahead. So, combine bad weather/party stress/empty nest/mid-life crisis/anxiety about getting older and you get a stormy Stormy.

So on my long list of to-dos, was my annual exam. I was telling my nurse practitioner about all of the things going on in my life and she was nodding sympathetically. At the same time, she was telling me that I was in great shape. My blood pressure—great! My lungs sounded good. Pressing on my abdomen, she commented on my muscle tone and said I was in the best shape of anyone she had seen that day. I have to confess, I was feeling pretty good about myself. Maybe turning 48 wasn’t that big of a deal. Then it came time to do my breast exam. “There’s a lump. Feel it?” Sure enough. How did I miss that? (Maybe because I do a half-assed job at breast self-exams when I remember to do them at all?) “When was your last mammogram?” she asked. It had been 2 ½ years. Shit. “You need to get that checked out.” Next was my pelvic exam. “Your ovary is enlarged.” Double shit.And I had made an outrageous statement about cancer being more suited to my temperament than Parkinson’s in an earlier post. How stupid could a person be? I was just asking God for another big slice of humble pie! Even if neither were indications of cancer, it would likely take a while to get the all-clear report and the specter of doom would be hanging over my head all weekend—tainting my daughter’s party, Father’s Day and my birthday. Boo.

Fortunately (luckily?), my doctor’s office was able to line up diagnostic tests quickly: The mammogram would be later that afternoon, and an ultrasound of my ovaries would be done the next day.

I have to confess, I freaked out a bit while waiting for the tests—after all, I was facing TWO diagnostic tests for two DIFFERENT kinds of cancer, one of them highly fatal. I wasn’t sure of my odds, but they were doubled, right? It was like a frickin’ BOGO! Suddenly, the status quo looked pretty attractive. Preparing for my daughter’s open house seemed very insignificant. So did turning another year older. After all, it’s a blessing to tear another page off the calendar, right? A lot of people don’t get that privilege. What was wrong with me that I had been so absorbed with such petty matters?

Well, if I ever needed to invoke the Power of the Clover, this was it. And I’m happy to report that my little four-leaf friend came through for me. Both abnormalities were harmless cysts, not malignant tumors. Afterward, I was much more enthusiastic about the fact that I had a wonderful accomplished daughter whose graduation we were celebrating. (After all, this is a good thing, right?) And despite an ominous forecast, it was even sunny for her party. Yay! So lucky! And so what if I was turning another year older—that’s better than the alternative, right? And I was certainly another year wiser as well. Sooooo lucky!

My dad always says, “It’s better to be lucky than good.” And while, I can’t determine who coined that expression, there’s some truth in it. However, the part that’s not explained is that luck isn’t something you “find”—like a clover—it’s all around you, hiding in plain sight. Rather, it’s something you need to RECOGNIZE . In the end, the clover was just a lens through which I gained some much-needed perspective. I don’t expect this realization to last (it never does) but maybe I can come back and read this at a later date and that will help me remember the good fortune that surrounds me. And if it helps you keep a little perspective, too, then it’s all been worth it.

When the going gets tough…

On April 20, 2013February 16, 2023 By StormyIn Attitude, Faith, Health/fitness, Marriage, Random, Relationships1 Comment

April is Parkinson’s Awareness Month and this is a disease that impacts me daily. About a decade ago, my husband was diagnosed with PD at the age of 44. This hit us out of the blue—there was no family history to foreshadow the condition and we were attributing his symptoms to something very mundane—a pinched nerve, carpal tunnel syndrome, etc.

I could write a lot about my husband and how terrifically he copes with the hand he’s been dealt… The man never complains or feels sorry for himself whereas I’m pretty sure that, in his shoes, I’d be the hostess of a 10-year pity party.

There are lots of nuances to his symptoms, but the upshot is this: His day is ruled by his medications and whether or not they are working. We sometimes refer to it as a Jekyll and Hyde existence but that doesn’t seem quite appropriate—while it’s “good” when his meds are “on” and “bad” when his meds are “off,” the whole Jekyll/Hyde analogy makes it sound like he turns evil, when he actually handles his off times with as much grace as any human being could muster.

Recently, he came up with another analogy—when his meds are off, he’s wooden and can’t move and when they are on he becomes “a real boy.” This seems more appropriate, and the transformation of how my husband comes to life when his medication kicks in is not unlike Pinocchio.

But I won’t presume to tell his story and instead will share my own. This is what I’ve learned having Parkinson’s “by proxy”…

1) There isn’t much I can control. I have a control-freak nature. And while having children was my first lesson in learning the limits of what I can control, dealing with my husband’s Parkinson’s is like being in graduate school. I find myself reciting the Serenity Prayer a lot. It’s a good prayer. I’m hoping one of these days it will sink in.

“I know God will not give me anything I can’t handle. I just wish that He didn’t trust me so much.” –Mother Teresa

2) There’s a method to His madness. While I think the adage, “God doesn’t give you more than you can handle” has some truth in it, I also think He likes pushing you right up against your limits at times. For example, I’m not the stop-and-smell-the-roses type. For a Midwesterner, I’ve got a rather intense East Coast approach to life and Parkinson’s is a condition that could try the patience of the most easy-going Southerner.

When I would think of my husband or myself dealing with illness, I imagined being struck with a more common condition, like cancer. This is a horrible, awful thing to deal with—no doubt about it. However, in many cases you can “battle” cancer, and if you’re lucky, you can win. Trust me, I’m not wishing my husband had cancer instead of Parkinson’s, but I sometimes think that fighting cancer would be more in line with my temperament. I like to think I would bravely don my armor and be at his side to help slay the dragons. But Parkinson’s isn’t a dragon—it’s the mosquito in the room whose buzzing keeps you up all night and slowly drives you insane.

David Byrne, Cowboy Mambo

There’s a David Byrne song with some slightly blasphemous lyrics that captures my perspective on this, “Green grass grows around the backyard shithouse. And that is where the sweetest flowers bloom. We are flowers growin’ in God’s garden, and that is why he spreads the shit around.”

Now, I don’t believe in a spiteful God, but I do think He is aware that my Serenity Garden is a bit overrun with weeds–and that my husband’s illness is part of a larger plan intended to help fertilize the flowers.

3) God provides help where you least expect it. Despite the negative lessons I’ve learned about myself, I’ve also learned that I’m not completely on my own. While testing me big time on the patience front, God has also sent some unlikely angels to support me through this process. People who accept me despite the aforementioned shortcomings. I’m very thankful for these people in my life.

Diamond or basketcase? The jury is still out... — Diamond or basketcase? The jury is still out…

4) We all need to cut each other some slack. There’s one aspect of my lack of patience that I’ll accept, and that is my growing intolerance of hatred and judgment and negativity. Life can be tough. But most of us are doing the best we can, and we all need to remember that. When it comes to disability awareness, I’m probably on the “more enlightened” end of the spectrum having worked for two organizations serving people with disabilities and consequently spending a lot of time around people with various conditions. Despite this experience, I cringe when I think about past incidents where I might have thought someone’s slowness was just disregard for other people’s time or assumed that someone’s lack of balance was the result of too many drinks. I know there are times when my husband’s symptoms are probably misinterpreted and that if others knew the true cause they would be more tolerant and considerate as well.

5) It’s anybody’s guess. Parkinson’s is a very individual disease. While there’s a typical progression to the illness, not everyone experiences their symptoms the same way. Some people’s illness progresses very quickly, others more slowly. I have no idea exactly what’s in store for my future–but then again, does anybody? I also have no idea how well I’ll continue to cope with it all. My only hope is that I continue to recognize the blessings in my life and appreciate those who are helping my husband and me along this journey.

Easier Said Than Done

Category: Faith