Hate Speech

If you don't like emotional rants, skip reading this.  I am writing it for myself and I don't even know how much sense it is going to make to anybody else.

I don't know how some people can be so filled with hate.  I especially don't know how some people can be filled with hate that I apparently caused.

Today an envelope addressed to "SYKES" was delivered to our house while I was out, which Walt opened.  It was from Peggy and filled with such vile hatred that I can't believe it.

You know, it was two years ago that she decided to end all communication with me, including adding me to her junk folder so if I wrote to her, the email was returned with a notice that said "not at this address."  And yeah, I have done my best to find out why. And yeah, I've been kind of a pest about it, because I just couldn't understand why she's cut me out and besides, I was pissed.  I finally reached saturation and the end of my feelings of friendship for her, realizing the impossibility of it.  I sent her a post card with a poem on it and saying that she had broken my heart, unnecessarily, but that I was finally learning to live without her in my life and ended by saying "goodbye."

This post card was returned with RUBBISH written across it in big red letters and then the hateful letter, which says something (I've destroyed it; I'm finished) about how she had declared that I was never to contact her again, but I had done it. She used to think I was intelligent, but no more.  She now sees how stupid I am.

The print on the letter was about 120 point type.

like this  

It's funny, but instead of making me angry, or hurting me even more, I just didn't care. I just felt dead inside. She suggests that I am mentally unbalanced for continuing to contact her after she expressly said she doesn't want to hear from me any more (something she never ever said to ME, but said to a friend of hers, who passed it along to me, adding that she didn't know why either).

Maybe I am mentally unbalanced, as she says. But that's what happens when the person you considered one of your best friends cuts you off without a word of explanation. Also, why should I blindly follow her demands without knowing why she made them?  "Because I'm the Mom, that's why" ? 

As I've said before, she was not the first one to treat me this way.   Back in 1986 my then-best friend did the same thing and Peggy knew how much that had hurt me. She had also experienced the same thing herself, twice.   Two different people (that I know of) who had cut off communication with her, one without a word of explanation, one with, but hurtful.  So she knows how much it hurts.   She knows how much it hurt her and she knew how much I'd been hurt before.

Yet, she refused to give me the only thing I wanted from her:   an explanation  Obviously I did something unforgivable, because her last message to me had been to wish me a good trip to China and to let me know that we would talk when I got back.  Then nothing.  At that time we were going through my cousin Cathy's death, which was so incredibly painful.  And remembering how I had been there for Peggy when her mother died and when her two dogs died (which may have been even more emotionally upsetting), also when she parted company with the people who ran the ranch on which she helped care for orphaned kangaroos.  I have sat here on the telephone and listened to her cry when her heart was broken, and tried to be as helpful as I could be from 9,000+ miles away.

It never entered my mind that she would not be here for me when I was going through the same thing...and it certainly never entered my mind that she would turn around and do the same thing that she knew would hurt so much to me...and that she would do it when I was already hurting so badly from Cathy's impending death.

I suppose if nothing else, she helped me greatly today, to put the final nail in the coffin that was our 13 year friendship.  But what happens when something like this happens...twice...is that you reach the point where you have zero interest in making new friends and you certainly don't want to open your heart up to someone new.  Once burned, twice shy--and I've been twice burned.

But Peggy was the person to whom I could turn with anything that was bothering me, there to offer comfort and support and I sure as hell am not going to make that mistake again.  

Char is still in my life, for which I am very grateful, but we don't have that kind of relationship.  We share emotional moments, but not at the depth that Peggy and I did.

I want to say I hate Peggy Morrison.  I don't quite...but almost.  And the worst part is that it never had to be this way.  All she had to do was help me understand what made her turn against me. 

 

Dammit.

---

In other news, I took my mother to have her TB test read today.  Unless something unusual happens, this is the VERY LAST medical visit she will have at Kaiser San Rafael.  Praise the Lord!

Where I've Been...Where I'm Going...

(Happy Birthday, Peggy, wherever you are)
 

Today I turned 69 and started my 70th year.   Throughout my life there has never been a traumatic birthday for me.  I didn't feel my life was over when I turned 30.  I didn't bemoan middle age when I hit 40.   50 and 60 didn't bother me at all.  I kinda liked entering my 50s and even my 60s.  But 70...approaching 70 somehow suddenly seems old, though  my mother scoffs that I don't know from "old," and most of my closest friends have paved the way into the 70s for me, so I'm still "the kid."

I do not, like Fagin in Oliver! take such a negative view...

What happens when I'm seventy?
Must come a time...seventy.
When you're old, and it's cold
And who cares if you live or you die.

But still I am passing through another decade and looking ahead to being 70 in a year. (I'm like my mother who started telling everyone she was going to be 93 on her next birthday the day after she turned 92!).  Naturally, I can't do something like starting a new decade without starting a new blog, so I've started a photo blog of "My 70th Year."  I hope to keep up with it for 365 days.  Just what the world needs, another 365 days seen through the lens of my camera!

I was thinking back over the decades of my life this morning.   Obviously until my 20th year, it was all concerned with growing up, going to school, and moving out on my own.

My early 20s were my party years, with all those activities with the Newman Club in Berkeley, which introduced me to the friends who have remained my friends to today.

~ 1996

2011

My late 20s were for birthin' babies and working with La Leche League

My 30s were spent parenting, the kids' school and extra-curricular activities -- PTA, diving team, children's theater, Little League, scouting, 4H and so many other things.

By my 40s, the kids were older and I started going back to work, part time here in Davis and volunteering at the Lamplighters.  The 40s brought some of my greatest joys and my most painful (to that time) experiences.  With my friends Alison and Carolyn, I published a book that can be searched for on Amazon and in the Library of Congress.  That was unbelievably cool.  I also got into computers, and in 1986 met a group of people from around the world on CompuServe, many of whom have remained friends to today.

My 50s brought me back closer to Davis, full time jobs, the Lawsuit years, the start of international travel, and the unspeakably painful deaths of David and of Paul.  I began my job as a theater critic in my late 50s and started writing Funny the World.  The decade also brought new friends like Steve and Peggy into my life.   I've always thought of them as the window God opened when he shut the door with Dave & Paul's deaths.

My 60s brought more travel, a fling with better health with weight loss and exercise, taking up bike riding, and the bike accident that ended my ability to ride a bike.  It also brought the biggest hurt since 1986, with the end of my friendship with Peggy.  Today is the first time in 12-13 years when I have not had a birthday greeting from her, nor an explanation of why.  

But my 60s also brought Cousins Days, two beautiful grandchildren, eleven wonderful Compassion children, more than 100 foster dogs, having Cinderella weekends tagging on Steve's coat tails and meeting people like Carol Channing and Theodore Bikel, and a whole new volunteer job in the book store.  In my 60s, I've seen the death of too many close friends (including my mother-in-law), the start of my mother's journey into some of the difficulties of old age, and my own realization that I don't do things as quickly as I used to, it takes longer to learn somethings, and it's more difficult to remember things.

My mother took me to lunch today, at one of our favorite restaurants.   We had hoped for crab and creme brulee.  Instead I had ahi tuna and something called a 1892 s'more, described as "a Guinness Peanut Butter brownie, peanut and raspberry chili sauce, homemade marshmallow and graham crackers."  I ordered it because it sounded interesting.  The brownie was too dry, and there was a cookie instead of graham crackers, but oddly enough the homemade marshmallow, toasted, was the best part of the dessert.

I came home and Walt cooked dinner for me, and promises to take me to brunch tomorrow, where I can get crabcakes Benedict.  It's been a good day, despite the horrendous traffic driving home from my mother's.

So now on into my 70th year and the adventures awaiting me over the next decade.

Thursday Thirteen

My biggest loss this year was the loss of my friend Peggy, who stopped writing to me for reasons I will probably never know....email from mutual friends assure me that there is nothing physically wrong with her...but they don't know why she has cut me off either. We have been friends for about 13 years and I wrote to her every day. She knows me better than anybody else in my life. These are the things that I miss about Peggy...

1. The cheery “'allo!” with that wonderful Australian accent, on the telephone
2. hearing stories of the roos she fosters
3. having someone who knows me so well I can tell her anything
4. telling her everything
5. seeing photos she has taken
6. being her go-between for orders from the US
7. John Denver
8. Sharing stories of the elephant orphan she sponsors in Africa
9. Getting help with my computer, from 9000 miles away.
10. My subscription to the magazine Digital Photography
11. recording Celine Dion concerts for her
12. Remembering the Blue Angels
13. “For Good,” from Wicked

My Photo Safari

I spent a delightful day today. Peggy recently sent me (after a year of my begging, cajoling and teasing her about it), a collection of DVDs which contained most of the photos that she took on her trip to Africa and to Scotland last year (she visited a friend in So. Africa, then flew to Scotland to meet her family and attend the Tattoo in Edinburgh, and then back to Africa for more photo taking). I told her before she left that I would have to take the trip vicariously through her photos and today I finally made my trip to Africa.

In truth, though I've had these DVDs for awhile, I had only watched some of them. And I'm glad that I hadn't watched more. The difference in how the photos look now, post-surgery, and how they looked when I first got them is the difference of night and day. Where they were nice photos before, now many of them just pop with color, even in the fairly homogenous African landscape.

Peggy and I share a love for animals and those who have been reading this journal for awhile may remember that we first became friends through our mutual love of watching the animals through Africam. Peggy's favorites were always the zebras.

(She actually won an award in a photo contest for this one)

But I loved the elephants. When I first asked her to send me all of her photos rather than waiting to make a slide show (I'm still "going to make a slide show someday" of my pictures from Australia!), she asked "how many pictures of elephants can you see?" Well, as it turns out--I couldn't get enough of 'em. She had lots and lots of elephant encounters and I loved looking at all the photos of every single one of them.

I remembered when the two of us had gone riding camels in Australia and I wished I had been with her in Africa so we could have laughed about riding elephants.

I even posted one of her elephant videos for today's video of the day.

But there were hippos and rhinos and cheetas and giraffes and hyenas and warthogs. Heck, even the water buffalo were great. And the birds! What wonderful bird photos she managed to get!

(I can't see this photo without wanting to burst
into a chorus of "3 Little Birds...")

So I feel like I've had my own little mini photo safari to Africa today. Without the expense, the bumpy ride, the heat and the dust. And without the excitement. But taking the trip vicariously was better than not taking the trip at all.

Leader of the Pack

Scrappy's back. I'm not sure for how long, but several days at least. He seems happy to be back. At least he licked my face enthusiastically when I picked him up and seemed to quickly re-orient himself to the house. (I had to remember to remove all the stuff on the table between the two recliners, since I'd forgotten that he uses that as his path from one chair to the other!)

Gizmo, however, wasn't too happy to have a new dog on the scene.

When Gizmo arrived here, she was a quiet little thing and I thought how nice it was. But Lizzie taught her how to bark.

and bark

and bark

and bark.

She has a high pitched bark that cuts right through you and when Scrappy arrived last night she used it a lot. For about three hours.

The two puppies finally reached some sort of impasse and both fell asleep in my lap. I started thinking about how things were going to go overnight. I finally decided to take all dogs upstairs and sleep with them in the guest room. I decided, when I got up at 5:30, that if I weren't so fat, I'd feel like scratching behind my ear with my foot--I don't feel human any more. When you sleep in a heap with four dogs piled around you, you wake up feeling like just one of the pack.

I got out of bed and headed downstairs with four bodies swarming at my feet. It was Gizmo's first experience with stairs and though she had made it upstairs without a problem, downstairs was another situation entirely. I finally had to carry her downstairs because she would bark and bark and bark, and then Scrappy would run upstairs to encourage her, and back downstairs again, Gizmo barking "I can't! I can't! I can't!" over and over again.

I am the undisputed leader of the pack, however, because I'm the one with opposable thumbs who is able to open a can of dog food and open the container that holds the kibble.

So I got a phone call from Peggy last night.

You remember Peggy. The lady with the camera? The one who took >6,000 photos in Africa that I have yet to see (and which she has now misplaced...ahem...).

Anyway, she was calling to tell me that she had been to a phography exhibit recently. She had entered several photos in competition -- several that she had taken in Africa -- and several of them were selected to enter the competition and one actually won third place.

I am just so proud of her!

A couple she took in Africa that didn't win were gorgeous (they look much better in full size, of course)

Anyway, I'm so proud of her. She's always been a good photographer, but her study and experience really shows. She's become a Good Photographer now!

Congratulations, Peggy!

The prize-winning photo

Happy Birthday, Peggy

Today is Peggy's birthday (though since there's that whole time zone thing, she's probably reading it after her birthday).

I wanted to tell you what I got her for a gift, 'cause I hope that some of you might get intrigued as well.

You know, last year she had her trip of a lifetime and went on a long-dreamed of photo safari to Africa. Some day I will finally get to see her photos, but I have seen a few of them and they are spectacular.

I had seen a BBC special on TV before she went to Africa, and copied it onto a DVD for her. (I can't remember now if that was the reason she visited this place or if she discovered it on her own).

It is the David Sheldrake Wildlife Trust and it's an amazing place where they rescue orphaned elephants and rhinos. It was founded by Daphne Sheldrake, in memory of her husband David, who had been head warden of Kenya's Tsavo National Park until his death in 1977.

(Now whoda thunk that a person who works with orphaned puppies and a person who works with orphaned kangaroos would be interested in a place like this!)

The Sheldrake Wildlife Trust is in Nairobi National Park. (There are several videos taken by people if you do a search on "David Sheldrake" on YouTube. There are also video clips on the Sheldrake web site.)

It was a few years back when I saw the BBC video, but I remember the tales of the traumatized babies, some only weeks old, watching their mothers be slaughtered by poachers. One of the articles linked on the Sheldrake web sites says, "When I met [Daphne] Sheldrake in 1989, she was soothing a baby elephant so traumatized after ivory poachers killed its family that it screamed in its sleep, apparently suffering nightmares."

You know what that did to my heart.

Each baby has an individual caretaker, so they are with a single human being 24 hrs a day, but they have discovered that separation anxiety is very real for these babies, so they rotate the caretakers so that the babies don't get too attached to one person, who might have to leave for one reason or another.

Anyway, Peggy went to visit the shelter while she was in Africa and when she returned to Australia, she went onto the web site and got information about their adoption program and adopted little Dida, born September 2007, who is the youngest of the group available for adoption.

I decided to adopt a companion for Dida as a gift for Peggy's birthday. I wanted a very young elephant (that's how I found that Dida is the youngest). I read through the profiles of every single elephant on the site and settled on Lesanju, a year older than Dida, who seems to have taken Dida under her wing.

Lesanju

I know that "fostering" programs are just hooks to get you to contribute money, but it's a terrific cause so I don't mind. I got turned on to elephants and their plight worldwide when I was following The Elephant Sanctuary in Tennessee, which rescues elephants from zoos and circuses and moves them to the compound where there are no visitors allowed and they are free to do what they can and live out the remainder of their lives in as normal an environment as they can (given that it's not Africa).

I am more than thrilled to help support an organization which does what it can to ease the trauma for these poor babies and raise them to eventually be released back into the wild.

So, happy birthday, my friend. Now you have two elephants. YOU can clean up the yard.

Dida and Lesanju

Smiles

Ever had one of those days that just makes you smile? I started the day smiling, and by the end of it I was grinning.

The day started late, thank you puppies. By the time I woke up the sky was actually light, which meant it was after 7 a.m. Unheard of for me, and the puppies were still sleeping.

Good puppies.

We had a brief cuddle and then I went back to finish my review of the magnificent production of Vivien, which we saw Saturday night. What a fabulous performance by actress Janis Stevens, as Vivien Leigh. I had finished most of the review before going to sleep on Sunday and had to just finish off the last couple of paragraphs and tweak it. I was working steadily when I glanced at the clock and realized it was 8 minutes to 9 -- and I had a dentist appointment at 9.

I love my dentist. I actually didn't see her much, but had a good session with the hygienist. I love it when they tell me I'm doing a good job. I didn't even mind that I was told I had a bit of decay in one tooth. I've been complaining about that tooth for awhile now -- the gum has been tender. It already has a crown and a root canal, so the decay isn't a big deal and it will be fixed next month. I left the office with shiny teeth and a big smile.

Walt went off to take the car in for an oil change (yes, he's driving short distances now). When he came back, he handed me a package which was addressed to Peggy c/o of me.

Now, Peggy still works at the Uralla Roo Haven, a sanctuary for orphaned kangaroo babies and as she has been giving more and more time to the joeys, she has been using the computer less and less. In fact, e-mail conversations are pretty much a thing of the past and now she calls once a month or so instead. It's actually a better way because it's fun to laugh with her again.

But I was a bit miffed that she hadn't warned me about the expected package. Our friendship flourished, before she ever came to the U.S., because I was willing to be the recipient of the camera equipment she bought on eBay, which couldn't be shipped to Australia. So I would get the packages and then mail them on to her and she would refund me for the postage.

It's been kind of fun, actually, but I had already made my big once-a-year Christmas trip to the post office to get stamps and didn't relish going back to the post office to send off a package to Australia, knowing how horrendous lines are at this time of year.

I sent off an e-mail saying "who is XX XX?" (the name of the sender) and told her that a package arrived and what did she want me to do with it.

Within minutes, the phone rang and it was Peggy. She told me that the package wasn't for her, it was my combination Christmas/Birthday present and she told me I could open it. I said I'd wait for Christmas, but of course I couldn't wait. After we'd spoken, I opened the box and this is what I found:

She has sent me a new camera. I haven't actually sat down to read the manual and familiarize myself with the new stuff (my current camera is also a Panasonic, so it was easy to operate right out of the box), but what I've tried I've loved. It's small enough that I could mount it on the dashboard of the car and make a test video....and the micro shot I did of my eye turned out amazingly clear.

This evening I'm going to settle myself in the recliner with camera and manual and play.

So I'm ending the day with a big smile on my face. I have clean teeth, the puppies were adorable today, I got a wonderful gift, and best of all, I got to catch up with Peggy, whom I miss very much. It continually saddens me to know that the chance of our seeing each other again is slim to nonexistent, but I'm glad that the friendship continues, despite the distance between California and Western Australia and our increasingly complex lives.