A Ruined Life

This is the first in a series of articles on Domestic Violence.  Abuse comes in many forms and sometimes it is not recognizble. In order to stop something we have to be aware of it. By imparting these words,  I hope we all can learn from these stories as hard as some of them might be to read or even hear about - Abusers need to get the message...

Domestic Violence - Child Abuse

No one reading this will actually know this person, but she is every person anyone reading this knows whom, has been subjected to domestic violence, child abuse and sexual assault.  She is a victim who has long struggled to overcome the horror that befell her and she has led a ruined life.  This is a true story of one person who represents every person ever to have suffered a similar fate.

I will call her Barbara, and she is now 50 years old.  She is a giving, caring, highly intelligent and very lonely woman, who was once a gifted and promising musician.  As a young girl coming into womanhood, she was also the victim of unimaginable abuse at the hands of her grandfather.  As is often the case, due to no fault of her own, family circumstances placed her in harm’s way, in his home at that most vulnerable time.  He was a drunkard and wife abuser behind closed doors, but a respected member of his community when in the public view.

 

 

Barbara would lose her childhood to the drunken weekend sexual abuse of her own grandfather and his drunken friends.  Soon her talent and school grades faltered.  Then came the suicide attempt and the secret could not be hidden any longer.  She was, removed from the house by another local family. Formal charges were never brought against her grandfather or the others, as things went during those times, but she was now - safe. 

Barbara moved from family to family, with no formal psychosocial help.  She worked odd jobs and eventually fell into the social services safety net in the county where she lived.  In her 30s, she lost her driver’s license after trying to kill herself again, this time with automobile exhaust fumes.  She suffered brain damage, mostly short term memory, but remained as sharp as a tack, and fully aware of her ever diminishing circumstances.

Physically, Barbara is a tall, very overweight woman, who crops her graying hair close and actually appears asexual in that respect.  She is a chain smoker (cigarettes) and is fairly/heavily medicated.  She tries very hard to help others by volunteering at the places where she had been helped.  She is a church choir member and teaches Sunday school.  She has support and friends, but has never had a loving companion.  Barbara lives in subsidized housing and has infrequent employment through county programs.  She needs someone to manage her money, medicine, daily routine and such because she forgets from moment to moment.

Barbara tries to fit in, and tries to be cheerful, but the pain of her early life is always in her eyes.  Now her fragile strength will be tested by a new problem.  After weeks of feeling ill and developing swelling in her jaw, a metastatic cancer diagnosis has arrived.  The ravages of chain smoking, bourn out of a troubled life, have brought one more abuse to her.

If you knew her, you would know how truly sad this is.  Alas, you do not need to know her to know how many truly sad stories like Barbara’s there are out there.  The way her situation was handled so many years ago, by well-meaning people, in some distorted fashion, actually gave permission to the offenders.  They suffered not a wit, while Barbara suffered everything.

That is the problem of every victim of abuse and what we need is more and more people who truly understand the problem to help solve it.

                                               

                                                                                                                                    L.S.

Photo: Concealer by Ket Quang

Thank you all for your bravery and for sharing your incredible stories. The more we are aware, the more we can faclitate healing, closure and maybe even mend some relationships. - VH Editor

April first, the day of fools,
What a bad rap cause April rules.

April, baseball, winter is gone,
Flowers blooming, we move on.

Beauty and color, the days get long,
The birds in season sing their song.

How can we view it as the month of fools,
When April is a month so cool?

L.S.

Photo Entitled Cottage Garden in April -  By: HKeller (Germany)

Death of a Poet

In celebration of Women's History month, we poetically pay tribute to Adrienne Rich, a highly honored feminist poet who just died at 82 years of age. She was best known for her deeply personal poems and bitting social commentary. She was also credited as being a force in the feminist movement.
 

 

A poet has died, her pen and mind now stilled,

No more shall we receive her words and thoughts so skilled.

Though surely her passing creates a void so very hard to fill,

She’s left behind a treasure trove that we can find at will.

Her pain, her angst, her love and loss, her vision and her rage,

Can be found in many forms neatly preserved on every page.

Words are forever and really have no time,

Whether written straight, in sonnet, prose or rhyme.

What’s left behind for us who care when a poet dies,

Is all her words that helped us see where the real truth lies.

Death comes to all, the mighty and the small,

But what would life be if our poet had never spoken at all?

                                                

Words in any form are powerful, and in these times of cognitive dissonance, political undertones meant to divide us and an outright perpetuation of untruths, it is encouraging to see an earnest life so celebrated. She will live on in our memories/histories. What kind of mark are you leaving behind?

                                                                                      LS

Photo by Mattox (Poland) Entitled: "Writing"

 

Wine & Life

I make wine at home as a hobby.  It is a wonderful process and much attention to detail is needed.  There are steps, time frames and measurements to follow, as well as some instinctual observations; all of which impact the end result.  In that way, making wine is much like life.

In order to start out well in making wine, preparation is the key.  As in life, you need the right tools to begin and to move forward.  In the case of wine, items used at each step need to be sanitized and functional; and timing is everything.

The juice of the grapes is mixed with water and yeast is added to convert the sugar to alcohol.  The primary fermentation lasts for 5 to 7 days.  The liquid must be kept at a temperature of between 72 and 78 degrees.  Once the specific gravity of the liquid has reached 1.010, it is racked (or transferred by siphoning) into a secondary fermentation vessel, or carboy.  After another 10 days, in the same temperature environment, the specific gravity must be at 0.996 before clarifying agents are added to the liquid.  Another eight days are needed for the liquid to clear into what now looks like wine.  The wine is then racked again leaving all the cleared sediment behind and sits in the carboy for another 14 days.

After that last 14 days, bottling can occur.  Once bottled and corked, the bottles stand upright for three days to let the cork set and then on their sides for three months when the wine is ready to be consumed. How the wine is treated from that point on can effect its quality in terms of shelf life, drinkability, and its overall status as a wine.

It can be said, and compared, that the care and nurturing of the wine through this delicate process mirrors the stages of life from birth, childhood, adolescence on through adulthood.  At each stage something done or not done can determine the success of the next stage, and ultimately the final outcome, either of the wine or a person.

We get out of life what we put into it, and it is best if we can ever so briefly get a chance to taste the result and proclaim, for all to hear, “Slainte!”  L.S.

Photo entitled "Wheel" by MMagallan

Photo entitled "Table Wine" by D. Burbach

Are you Grateful - TODAY?

Hello World...

Today is a great day! I plan on making it even better if that is at all possible. If you live in the NYC area, you must think me crazy, but as the rainfall continues, I am reassured of one very important thing. I am alive and well.  As a nation and a people we are super rich in that we have busy lives and little inconveniences are well -  inconvenient. But I try to pull myself away from thoughts of petty annoyances and welcome my thoughts of gratefulness.

• I am grateful for waking up this morning.
• I am grateful for my cold, as I could have worse ailments.
• I am grateful for the love of my family, because it is the most important thing in my life.
• I am grateful that my rambunctious kids are screaming at each other, as it means they are healthy and interacting with each other.
• I am grateful for the rain, as it cleanses and encourages growth.
• I am grateful for my job, as there are many folks standing on the employment line.
• I am grateful for living in America, where my choices are free.
• I am grateful for all the lives that were spared during this weeks natural encounters around the world, as it could have been much much worse.
• I am grateful to spend time washing dishes or doing laundry, it means I have food choices and lots of clothes.
• I am grateful for falling into bed at night from sheer exhaustion, as it means I am not complacent.
• I am grateful for the ability to complain about every trial and tribulation, because it means I am human.

Well, I will stop there as I am sure you get the picture. A sunny outlook can have a major effect on a rainy day, so if your feet touch the floor every morning, rejoice in your good favor. Go out and splash in a puddle, or sit and hug your family or goldfish - Life is Good - all the time. I plan to make my rainy day ridiculously amazing - how about you?

With Much Love and Abundant Blessings,
Epiphany

Photo by Fran Flores of Singapore: Raindrops

Update: by the time I finished this blog, it stopped raining - the power of positive thinking/vibrations - LOL.

February 29th - Happy Leap Day!?

  It only happens once every four and even years,

So perhaps we should give out three or four really loud cheers.

It’s a day unlike all others, but still like any other day,

Thus it really can’t be seen this or any other way. 

So rare is it’s coming and so very cunning,

That it should be received by us all as a day that’s quite stunning.

If this date be your birth date, dare I leap to a conclusion,

That every other birthday would be one by sheer exclusion.

And not to belabor this subtle point to the point of all confusion,

Lest we bang our heads against the wall to the point of a contusion.

Maybe it is best for all involved if we simply say,

It may be February 29^th, but it’s really just a Wednesday!

                                                                                                    L.S.

|Note of Interest|

Across the pond we celebrate Sadie Hawkins Day! not like the Americans, by asking a boy to the dance but by single ladies proposing marriage to  that someone special in their lives. One of the ways they proposed is by ordering a steak with the words "will you marry me" seared on top. - Good Luck Ladies!!

History Link

from Stock Xchng:
Romania's Bea29sm photo entitled: Nice Cake

I Would Still Be Your Friend

If I had only seen you face,

In this or any other place.

I would still be your friend.

If I had only heard your voice,
Amid the universe of noise.

I would still be your friend.

If I had only read your words,
In full or only just one third.

I would still be your friend.

If I had only known your thoughts,
From all the people you had taught.

I would still be your friend.

If I were near or all the way blind,
And could only see you in my mind.

I would still be your friend.

If I had only briefly met your soul,
Heart and spirit; the person whole.

I would still be your friend.

And if you weren’t so beautiful,

While I mightn’t be so dutiful.

I would still be your friend.

But I am blessed for I have seen,
And heard and read, and to that very end.

I am now and will forever be your friend.

L.S. 

Photo Credit: Gavin Spencer

Happy Birthday Mr. President

Breaking News From the Wolf Network...

President Barak Obama turned 50 years of age yesterday despite efforts from Congress to block the move.  Legislators worked feverishly to avoid this, the birthday, which was scheduled to take place just past midnight.  A last minute compromise by the President seemed to save the day when he agreed not to raise the issue again for one full year.

The White House released a statement indicating that the President was not thrilled about turning 50, but understands that some things are inevitable and he expressed hope that he is not only older but wiser by this action.

Even with the ink on the compromise still drying, some in Congress were calling for a Supper Committee to begin work on the plan for the President's 51st birthday.  Others have dismissed this as election year politics.

Instead of distributing pens after signing the  Birthday Bill, the President handed out cake causing some to call into question the fiscal responsibility of doing so.  The President, smiling and in a faux French accent said, "Oh! Let zhem eat zee cake!"   News of yet another Supper Committee is expected soon.

(But seriously, what a world we live in, huh?)

LS




Photo Credits:
Elvinstar
SEPpics

Vineyard's Blend

I make wine as a hobby and my daughter is studying to be a sommelier, so I have some knowledge of wine. But I think I have much more knowledge about life and will combine both here for illustration.

I recently spent a week and a half on Martha’s Vineyard in Massachusetts and came away with a interesting observation.

Wine comes in many forms and varieties, as do people, and how people see wines or think about them is not dissimilar to societal views in general. Pardon me while I take a sip.

Let’s take a Merlot for instance. It is a singular, 100%, wine from a pure bred grape. It is only compared against itself and the competition among vintners is fierce to say the least. It can be an elitist, a segregationist, snobby, exclusive, unwilling to be a part of a bigger thing and bound by expectations.

Blended wines, on the other hand, are diverse, exciting, mysterious, entertaining, surprising, not bound by comparison or competition, and are willing to be tried in any situation. Let me do that now...sip, sip.

Martha’s Vineyard is a place where people go to get away from the world and I am happy to report that it is a place unto itself;  like a blended wine with all the best things diversity brings to a society.

If you walk around the town of Oak Bluffs, for instance, and observe and listen to the people around you, you can be forgiven for mistaking it for a waterside park in New York City. There are people of all nationalities, speaking the languages of those nationalities. But the most interesting thing I found was the fact that folks were so relaxed in this environment that no one really stood out as being different from anyone else. We were all just people on vacation, mixing with the locals and seeking the most we could get from the serenity of the place we were in. An ideal world, if you will. This calls for another sip.

A good example would be breakfast at Biscuit’s, a “minority owned” family business where we sat surrounded by people at one table speaking Russian, another table with a big group from the Caribbean, still another group in for the Portuguese-American parade, folks from Texas and a French couple. This is just a sampling, and I could not help but wonder why it is so hard for this to work in so many other places.

There is nothing wrong with liking a good Merlot, but people should not be afraid to try and to embrace a good blended wine whenever they come across one. Life is much too short to miss out on the beauty in the diversity of it. So, off I go to get another bottle of  Bordeaux. Salut!!

L.S.


Photo Credit: casparcash

Martha's Vineyard Link

Biscuit's

It’s a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

It does not matter what day it is when you are in a special place with special people.  Any day there is a beautiful day.  And I have found that the women in this particular neighborhood make it that way.

I don’t know if people who are not familiar with the section of East Flatbush in Brooklyn have any idea of the beauty, caring, love and kindness that pervades this place.

In my long and getting longer life, I have worked in numerous situations and in various places where women either made up the bulk of the workforce, or were ever present in relation to it.  Whether it was sitting with a bird’s eye view of the daily fashion parade at 42^nd and Lex in NYC, working in the facilities on a military base or walking the halls of colleges and hospitals, the women in those settings left their personal and professional impressions on me.

I can honestly say that never in all my travels have I met better people, who happen to be women, than those I’ve met in the midst of this neighborhood.  Their beauty is unmatched and, despite told and untold personal trials and tribulations, they love and care, give and smile, are professional and smart, work hard and laugh hard.  They recognize their own faults and forgive those of others. They are cautious from experience and open from their hearts.  They are worthy of their dreams and too often uncelebrated for the remarkable people they are.

If you are honest and respectful these women will reward you with an indelible smile that never leaves you.  And if you know any little bit about the tremendous hurdles these women have cleared in their lives, those smiles will leave you speechless.  If you are fortunate enough to be befriended by them, you are truly blessed indeed.  Would only that my travels had brought me here sooner.

The day is today, and it’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood.

                                                                                                                        L.S.

Photo Credit: Laynecom

Insert your worst word here _____ .

But please do not say it.

Words can be powerful and they can heal, and words can hurt deeply. Powerful words are written down and used again or referenced. They guide and inspire; they bring hope and resolve. Healing words are passive and gentle, much appreciated in the moment, but often easily forgotten. Hurtful words dig in and last forever, they leave scars and turn people’s lives in the wrong direction. Of all the words there are, hurtful words are the worst.

Hurtful words are easy to say, but can’t be taken back. Once said, they are like bullets and the damage is done. Before people react and speak they should deliberate on what words they have in their gun and should keep the safety on.

It takes thought and time, caring and care to come up with powerful and healing words. Hurtful words come easily and recklessly, as if automatically, and perhaps say something awful about human nature. If one were to think of tolerance and equality, support and acceptance, love and kindness or even deference and consequence before uttering hurtful words, it is likely they would not.

And there is no shortage of hurtful words for every situation. And the situation does not even have to call out for words; the words are just there and so ready to do damage.
There are hurtful words that mindlessly target the color of a persons skin, their gender, their sexual orientation, their nationality, their height and weight, the speech, their clothes, their financial status, their politics, their religious affiliation, their education level, the books they chose or don’t; essentially everybody’s everything.

So I would suggest that anyone reading this take a moment and insert their worst word and really think about what that word means and how it can hurt or even destroy another person, who may very well have a hurtful word that could do the same to you.

Insert that word here ____. Think about it. But please don’t ever say it again.


L. S.