I Don't Cry Anymore

 I haven’t been able to cry in years, and I’m not sure why.

 

When I was growing up, I too had to stuff my feelings and pretend everything was all right even though it wasn’t.  I would lock myself in my room and let the tears flow.  I cried until there was nothing left inside and my eyes burned so badly, I’d close them and go to sleep.  When I began counseling and meetings, I came to accept that it was okay to share what I was feeling and to cry, although there were things, I still kept hidden.  I think it was an issue of trust.  There were things I couldn’t open up about to anyone, and some not even to my journal.

 

The last time I really had “good” cries was after my first husband passed away in 2001.  I would dissolve into tears over the mention of his name, a memory, a familiar smell, the sight of his clothing or a favorite place we liked to visit.  It felt good to get the grief out but I didn’t like the aftermath of crying: red, swollen eyes, stuffy nose, and hitching breaths.  I never liked that part of it.

 

So why did I stop crying?  It’s not that I don’t feel grief or pain.  I have been heartsick over every single story of child abuse, mass shootings, deaths of friends and relatives, and sad scenes in movies but the tears won’t come anymore.  Is it possible I cried them all away?

 

I have no trouble expressing anger.  That’s always been the easiest to release.  I can laugh.  I can feel happy and joyous.  I can feel deeply depressed and incredibly sad.  But I can’t cry.  There are still some feelings I keep hidden but I don’t think that’s why I don’t cry.  Before counseling and meetings, I kept everything hidden and I cried like a baby.

 

All of that is just to say I’m much better expressing myself, standing up for myself, and even toning down the anger.  But I can’t cry.

Supporting the Lonely Child

 

There was a topic I meant to write about on my blog sometime last week but then came the revealing Jan 6^th committee hearings and SCOTUS’ wrongfully decision to reverse Roe v. Wade.

There was an article in the Readers’ Digest newsletter I receive every day.  The article was titled “One Teacher’s Brilliant Strategy to Stop Further School Shootings”.  Ah, this would be an interesting one to read in view of the times and the lackluster gun bill just passed by Congress and signed into law by President Biden.  The link to the whole article: https://www.rd.com/article/stop-bullying-strategy/?_cmp=readuprdus&_ebid=readuprdus6252022&_mid=509071&ehid=640dcc195197ba01718c368163bf83f61404b72d&_PermHash=13660bfeb26f12d44f84b122ca5ed8d5f1acd1ca439a25e7fe835ee487c11d11 The essay originally appeared in 2014 but then was shared again after the 2018 massacre at Parkland High School in FL.

The author met with her son’s fifth grade teacher.  During the course of the conversation, the teacher spoke of every Friday activity: she has her students take out a piece of paper.  She asks them to write down 4 classmates they’d like to sit with the following week.  She tells her students their requests might be honored or might not.  Then she asks the kids to nominate one person to receive an award they think has been an exceptional student that week.  The ballots are kept secret and handed in to her.

Over the weekend, she looks at the names and tries to find patterns.  From the article:

“Who is not getting requested by anyone else?

Who can’t think of anyone to request?

Who never gets noticed enough to be nominated?

Who had a million friends last week and none this week?”

The teacher isn’t looking to see who is the most popular or the best citizen.  She’s looking for the kids who are not.  Maybe some of those kids are being bullied.  Maybe they’re ignored because they’re “invisible” (aka as shy or passive).  Maybe a child was “popular” but is now being ostracized.  She finds not only the bullied, isolated, lonely kids but can also figure out who the bullies are.  In this way, she can help the lonely child by providing TLC in the form of support and maybe even tutoring on how to build friendships.  And she can keep an eagle eye out for the bullies, who attack when a teacher isn’t around.

So, the author-parent was amazed and impressed.  She asked how long the teacher had been doing this activity every Friday.

The teacher answered, ever since Columbine (which was in 1999).

“This brilliant woman watched Columbine knowing that all violence begins with disconnection. All outward violence begins as inner loneliness. Who are our next mass shooters and how do we stop them? She watched that tragedy knowing that children who aren’t being noticed may eventually resort to being noticed by any means necessary.

And so, she decided to start fighting violence early and often in the world within her reach. What Chase’s teacher is doing when she sits in her empty classroom studying those lists written with shaky 11-year-old hands is saving lives. I am convinced of it.”

Isn’t that something?

I was a rather lonely child in that I had family secrets to keep.  Friendships had to be kept at arm’s length.  There wasn’t any bullying except for seventh grade but I was isolated and very much alone.  There was an English teacher that recognized herself in me and spoke to me privately.  There was no way I could tell the truth about my dysfunctional family but the fact that she reached out to me meant the world. 

The fact she reached out to one who also suffered probably inspired more empathy.  One thing that was so enjoyable after I retired was reading to young children, kindergarten through second grade.  The children were not the avid readers; they tended to be behind their classmates and mostly unnoticed at home and by their fellow classmates.  I spent an hour with two kids; each got 30 minutes undivided time with me.  We chatted for a few minutes and then they would enjoy having a story read to them.  Some hadn’t ever experienced being read to as individuals.  They began the school year, hesitant and shy.  By the end of the year, you couldn’t stop their enthusiasm.  They loved receiving a book of their own as an end-of-year gift.  Some told me it was their very first book.

There were so many wonderful kids.  I remember one in particular, a sweet first grader who absolutely adored Pete-the-Cat books.  The following September, I went into the office to sign myself out from a reading session with two new students and found this little girl lying on the floor near the secretary, crying.  I asked her what was wrong and a nearby security officer rolled her eyes and indicated the little girl was a PITA (but she didn’t say that).  The little girl cried harder and thrashed around.  I knelt down and spoke to her soothingly and she calmed a little, recognizing me.

The reading teacher came into the office.  Apparently, she’d been summoned to deal with the child, who’d calmed down considerably.  After a few more minutes, the security guard escorted the child back to her classroom while I stayed and talked with the reading teacher.  The child wasn’t adjusting to second grade well.  She was having frequent bursts of temper and tantruming. 

The reading teacher asked me if I’d like to mentor the child.  My role would be to encourage and support the child, meeting with her once a week to have lunch with her.  I said yes and spoke with the school’s social worker to make all the arrangements.  The child’s classroom teacher preferred that I meet with the little girl during class time instead of lunch.  Was it to give the teacher a break?  It didn’t matter.

For the rest of the school year, we met together in the social worker’s outer office.  Sometimes she would be happy, the same little one I’d remembered from the year before.  Other times, there were tears and anger from a recent meltdown.  Most of the time, we talked about her week at school and at home, her interests, and whatever was troubling her.  We would talk about how to deal with conflicts without tantruming.

Her favorite character was Pete-the-cat, and he had a specific quote about staying cool.  It was a great quote to focus on, and I sure wish I could remember it now.  I also read to her and when I did, she would snuggle up to me.  The teachers and even the security guard began to see some improvement with her behavior.  At the end of the school year, I gave her a stuffed Pete-the-cat doll and storybook.

The following September she would start third grade at another school on campus.  There were three schools on that campus: one for K-2, one for 3-4, and one for grade 5.  The reading teacher asked if I would continue to mentor the child at the next school and I said yes.  We tried to set me up at the next school but there was never any follow through.  I lost touch with the little girl.

She would be a junior or senior this September.  How did she fare all these years?  Did that year of extra attention and love make a difference?  I’d like to think so.

The Book of Hope: A Survival Guide For Trying Times

I am so glad that I signed up for ebook offer mailing lists.  I’ve found so many good books that I so enjoyed reading, especially when I can get them free from the library! 😉 The wonderful book I just finished this time was The Book of Hope: A Survival Guide For Trying Times by Jane Goodall and Douglas Abrams and with Gail Hudson.  I saw that title and I know Jane Goodall most of all from the wonderful conservation efforts she’s made and research with chimpanzees.  I thought, you know, I’ll be she’s got some great advice for the trying times we’re living in!

Douglas Abrams interviewed Jane Goodall before and after the pandemic.  She wrote in her forward: “Probably the question I am asked more often than any other is: Do you honestly believe there is hope for our world?  For the future of our children and grandchildren?  And I am able to answer truthfully, yes.”

I have to admit to feeling periods of despair over the last couple of years.  This year has been particularly trying: my mother-in-law was hospitalized and almost died from a covid-19 infection; subsequently, her gall bladder became dangerously infected and she’s just finally had it removed after weeks of persistent bacteria; devastating and horrific hostilities by the Russians on Ukrainian civilians; a dear friend is in the final throes of transitioning from life after suffering with destructive cancer; wild weather due to climate change; my husband was scammed out of $2000 from our checking account; covid is not done with us; and last, but not least, the dysfunction in Washington (without getting into it).  Yes, I have wondered if there was any hope left for the world and have grieved what was stolen from my children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

Jane Goodall’s research first involved the study of chimpanzees.  She learned and reported that they have feelings and can probably think and wonder.  They just aren’t able to talk.  Scientists scoffed at first but later began to give her credence.  While studying the chimps, she realized that part of the danger to them was the overwhelming poverty of the people living around them.  Her interests expanded to improving the environment.  Help the people, help the animals.  She became very concerned what was happening to the world’s environment and has established programs around the world to try to address the issues.

The interviews are so inspiring and informative.  The book is divided into sections.  First, “What Is Hope?”  After that comes the four reasons we can continue to hope: “The amazing intellect; the resilience of nature; the power of young people; and the indomitable human spirit.”  There was conversation between the two of them about spirituality.  She doesn’t try to foist her beliefs on anyone but she did have Abrams look up a quote by Albert Einstein: “The harmony of natural law … reveals an intelligence of such superiority that, compared with it, all the systematic thinking and acting of human beings is an utterly insignificant reflection.” Take from that what you will.  I have my own definite beliefs.

Finally, if we want to be messengers of hope too, what can we do?

This is the second book I would recommend to everyone.  

Restoring Hearing Loss?

There was some positive news from my Good News Network newsletter. 

<a href=”https://www.goodnewsnetwork.org/mit-reverses-hearing-loss-stimulating-hair-growth-in-the-inner-ear/?utm_campaign=newsletters&utm_medium=weekly_mailout&utm_source=05-04-2022>MIT Researchers Reverse Hearing Loss By Regenerating Inner Ear Hair Growth</a>  The Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) has a spin-off called Frequency Therapeutics.  They had been researching how to restore hearing loss and have come up with a promising injection to stimulate hair growth in the inner ear.

Our ears have three parts: outer, where the canal leads to the middle, which has the tiny bones that conduct sound.  The inner ear has the cochlea, where we all have little hairs that vibrate and send sound through its nerve to the brain.  And then we hear.

We can begin to lose our hearing for different reasons.  If there’s a dysfunction in the middle ear, it causes a conductive loss.  The little bones aren’t communicating with the cochlea.  In addition, although we’re born with thousands of cochlear hair, they begin to die off and aren’t replaced.  When too many of the hairs die, a person becomes deaf.  The hairs can die simply as we age or they die from noise exposure, antibiotics or chemotherapies.

Before we’re born, we have progenitor cells that will eventually become specific hairs, like for the cochlea.  What the researchers discovered was that using a regenerative therapy to stimulate the progenitor cells helped improved a hearing-impaired individual’s ability to understand and participate in his or her surroundings.  They use molecules in an injection into the inner ear to do this and the hope is that restoring hearing will be like lasik surgery that restores vision.

My husband, Ted, was a sheet metal worker for most of his working career.  His work environment was very noisy and, over the years, he lost a lot of his hearing.  The last time he had an audiogram, the numbers showed profound deafness.  He is fortunate in that he can use his residual hearing and lipreading to help him socialize.

I know how isolating hearing loss can be.  My parents were Deaf.  They didn’t mingle with hearing people; until there was captioning, they couldn’t understand everything they saw on TV.  They were complete lost in family gatherings where many members would be speaking almost simultaneously.  However, they were very active in the Deaf community and that was where they would socialize. 

It's not so for hearing people who lose their hearing later in life.  Some do blend into the Deaf community, learning to sign and reconnect with people.  Others, who are older, have a tough time learning sign language.  My husband is one of those people.  People with hearing loss who aren’t able to lipread well or use residual hearing find themselves lonely and isolated.

I am hopeful for this therapy.  I think Ted would benefit from it.  I also think he might benefit from a cochlear implant because he’s already familiar with speech and would adapt well.  Understandably, though, he has no interest in having a hole drilled in his skull, destroying whatever residual hearing he has to implant a device that would act like the cochlea.

From what I read, I don’t know that the therapy would benefit people like my parents, who were born deaf and grew into adulthood.  Maybe it could work for deaf babies?  I wonder.

Proofing this after the fact, I realize I need to practice my html LOL

A Tale Of Two Kitties (Creative Writing Prompt)

A Tale of Two Kitties

Prompt:  Pets can be a breath of fresh air, simply because they love us just as we are.  Enter a picture or a sketch of your pet and describe in your journal how you found your little darling.  What attracted you to him or her in the first place?  How this pet have change your life?

 

I’ve always loved cats.  I began bringing them home when I was about 8.  Almost all of my cats were strays.  One was so tiny and weak, my parents were sure she would die.  I fed her milk with an eye dropper and she hung on and lived.  I called her Pepper and she lived almost 20 years.  Once I was an adult, people either gave me cats & kittens to adopt or, just once, I bought one.

 

When we moved from Maryland to New York, we had to give up our pets because the landlord wouldn’t let us keep them.  It was heart-breaking although Paddywack the cat was more Billy’s pet than mine.  I always had animals around so this was a major change for me. 

 

Cats are terrific pets.  It’s easy to train them to use the litterbox.  All you have to do is put the little guy into a box, “scratch” the litter with her front paws and that’s that.  The only thing better would be to teach the kitty to sit on the toilet and then flush it.  You keep them fed and watered and they’re very low maintenance.  Yet, they can be wonderful companions … if they are in the mood.  When they are, there is nothing like the feel of a purring cat’s paws kneading your stomach while you scratch her ears.

 

My first husband’s sudden death had hit us hard.  As the children and I struggled to cope with the overwhelming grief, a perceptive friend of mine called and asked if we could possibly adopt a cat, an adult rescue.  I hesitated a moment, knowing that our landlords did not want us to have pets of any kind.  We’d been forced to give up our own cat and dog the year before when we’d moved from Maryland to New York.  We were fortunate to find two families that were willing to adopt our pets.  But how could I turn this one away?  I said yes, deciding I would deal with the cat-in-the-house issue with the landlords at another time.

My friend came over that night with the cat and her present owner.  The young woman was heartbroken to have to give up her pet.  She was facing a situation similar to ours.  Her new landlord would not allow her to keep pets.  She told us that the cat was very shy and brought her out of the crate.

Amber was a beautiful long haired cat with gold, brown, and black markings.  She has adorable tufts of fur between her toes.  I only got a moment’s glimpse of her before she ran behind the couch to hide.  The kids were disappointed that she disappeared so quickly but I explained that cats hide when they are in a new place and Amber would come out eventually.

It took a week.  She hid under an old record cabinet we had, looking pitifully terrified. Finally she began to come out and walk around but she ran from us all the time.  Heidi was especially disappointed.  She’d been wanting to cuddle Amber.  “Oh, poor, poor me. I need to be hugged and cuddled”, she appears to say.  Yet, she doesn't want any of her human pets to pick her up or cuddle her. She was a frustrating sort of pet, pretty and adorable but oh so distant.

We went to stay with Rich’s father and stepmother over the Christmas holidays.  Alberta has five or six cats, one of which warmed right up to Heidi.  Her face lit up and she was happy and animated for the first time in months.  She began to ask me if we could adopt another cat, one just for her.  I hesitated, remembering the landlord grudgingly giving us permission to have Amber.  Hey, too bad, I thought, this kid <i>needs</i> her own cat.

See, I remember how it feels to be sad, to cry and to pick your cat up and cuddle her.  Some cats really warm up to people and they’ll respond lovingly.  One of my cats would come when I called.  When I slept, the last thing I remembered was how nice it felt to have my cat curled up in the groove between my shoulder and my neck.  As much as I loved Amber this was still a case of rescuing her and taking care of her.  She didn’t bond with anyone.

After we got back, we talked about it and decided we’d like to rescue another adult cat.  I can’t explain exactly why except to say that we’d sort of been abandoned too – unwillingly, yes, but we were still left alone.  Heidi and I visited a couple of shelters and a PetSmart.  The store had grown cats to adopt out, a male and a female.  They were siblings and the idea was to try and adopt them out together.  We couldn’t do that, though, because we already had one at home and I wasn’t going to part with Amber.

I had a burst of inspiration to try an animal shelter on the north shore.  I called on my cell phone to get directions and learned that there were several adult cats that needed to be adopted.  On the way there, I told Heidi she should take time and visit with each cat.  This way we could choose a cat according to personality.  And so Heidi held and petted each of the cats before deciding that she wanted the small tuxedo, the friendliest and most curious of all.

There’s a small fee when you adopt a pet from the shelter, hardly enough to raise an eyebrow.  As I paid, the animal control officer took out a card and read me information at our new kitty.  He was between 1 and 2 years old, was spayed, and had been an outdoor cat.  Her name … Mouse.

A cat named Mouse?

“Do you know why her owner didn’t want her anymore?” I asked suddenly.

The man answered, “It’s funny, he was just left here yesterday.  The owner’s husband brought her down.  I’m not sure why.”  He began scanning the card and all of a sudden I knew why.

“His wife died, didn’t he?”

The officer was very surprised.  “How did you know that?”

“I think maybe we were led here,” I answered. 

Mouse was a lot of fun.  He warmed up easier to people and when he was in the mood, he’d jump on your lap or on the bed to be petted.  He loved to play and would chase bathrobe ties for hours if he could.  He’s also prodded Amber into being more active.  The two of them chase each other all around the house.  :)