...non-religious reason for considering keeping Kosher -
Brain. Worms.
Monday, February 9, 2009
"I Don't Know if You Know This, But None of Us Gets Out of This Alive"
A dear friend of mine, someone who practically helped raise me, died several months back. The priest at her Memorial Mass said the title of my post, in the beginning of his Eulogy. Yes, I'm certain he got it from somewhere else, but that's where I remember it from.
Today is the anniversary of another death. Her name was Susan, and she was my boss for ten years.
Two years ago, on a very bright Saturday morning, I received a call from another friend and co-worker, Donna. The only part of the conversation that I remember is, "Susan's dead." I know that we said more, I know that I drove into work to help begin sorting out the necessary things. I can remember that we were having a car show in our parking lot, and that it was hellish, trying to get in, and get a spot.
She died suddenly, without warning. We'd always thought that it would be cancer, she smoked like a chimney, and seemed to be unable to stop. It was a blood vessel that burst in her stomach, bleeding out rapidly internally. Susan went to bed Friday night with her husband, and woke up in the early hours of Saturday morning, dying.
Pat, my friend who died last year, had cancer. She was diagnosed about four months before her death. She'd been exercising, coughed, and noticed blood in the phlegm. Her doctor found masses in her lungs, but they were hopeful that they would be able to operate, and with chemotherapy get it under control.
What they didn't know at the time was that the cancer was already everywhere. They found it in her bones, her breasts, and eventually, at the end, in her brain.
She died in the hospital, with her husband there, telling him that it was time for him to let her go.
Another man, Paul S. worked here for years, retired, and died of a heart attack less than six months later.
Our second Paul S (affectionately called PS2), went out to dinner several years ago and choked on a chicken bone. By the time they were able to clear his airway, he was dead. His family kept him on life support for about a month before they removed it.
Bob had just been diagnosed with lung cancer and was beginning treatment. His heart just gave out one night.
Luke, for reasons known only to God, shot his wife and then himself, leaving devastated children and his parents behind.
My dentist was driving home one night and hit the curb. He was thrown from the car, dying instantly. His wife survived.
My grandfather took most of a year to die, it was his second bout with cancer. It'd gone into remission several years before, but it came back. He died at home, with my grandmother at his side, my uncles having just left after spending several weeks with them. We all knew it was coming.
My other grandmother died in the middle of the night when I was still a kid. She thought she was having an asthma attack, but it was a heart attack.
A young man in town, driving home from the hospital where his wife had just given birth to his daughter, ran into the back of a dump truck.
Caylee Anthony wasn't quite four when she was murdered, most likely by her own mother.
Denise Amber Lee was 21, the mother of two young boys when she was kidnapped and murdered.
Every so often we get an obituary for a child, sometimes even for an infant who lived a short, short time. Once in a while, we will get one for a still birth.
Look at that list. They range from the very young, to the very old. Natural death, accidental, murder.
Early on in RCIA, in the very first 'take-out' Mass, the topic of death came up. Most of the sponsors are older, and they all were talking about how the young fear death, but as they had gotten older, their fear of death diminished. Their faith took over.
I don't fear death.
Most people, when they hear me say that, start looking at me funny. As though they expect me to suddenly jump off a cliff or take up swimming with sharks. Lack of fear of death doesn't make one suicidal. Nor does it take away other fear. I fear some *manners* of dying. I would really, really like to not die by being eaten by something. I'm terrified of heights, and would rather not die that way either. But fear of pain, fear of terror, does not equal fear of death.
I don't fear death, because there's nothing I can do about it. One way or another, my life will end. I'd rather it be later, rather than sooner, because there are things I would like to do, but really, ultimately, I (or anyone) have no say in it.
We will all die. There's no way around it. From the moment we are born, we are dying. It's the natural order.
The point is: Live your life with joy.
Don't spend a ton of time worrying about how or where you're going to die, or when the world is going to end. There's nothing to do about it anyway. You waste of ton of energy and emotion on something that is inevitable.
Find something, every day, that makes you happy. Be thankful that you've been given that day, that hour, that minute. That moment of happiness. Because no matter what anyone may tell you, you still never know.
Today is the anniversary of another death. Her name was Susan, and she was my boss for ten years.
Two years ago, on a very bright Saturday morning, I received a call from another friend and co-worker, Donna. The only part of the conversation that I remember is, "Susan's dead." I know that we said more, I know that I drove into work to help begin sorting out the necessary things. I can remember that we were having a car show in our parking lot, and that it was hellish, trying to get in, and get a spot.
She died suddenly, without warning. We'd always thought that it would be cancer, she smoked like a chimney, and seemed to be unable to stop. It was a blood vessel that burst in her stomach, bleeding out rapidly internally. Susan went to bed Friday night with her husband, and woke up in the early hours of Saturday morning, dying.
Pat, my friend who died last year, had cancer. She was diagnosed about four months before her death. She'd been exercising, coughed, and noticed blood in the phlegm. Her doctor found masses in her lungs, but they were hopeful that they would be able to operate, and with chemotherapy get it under control.
What they didn't know at the time was that the cancer was already everywhere. They found it in her bones, her breasts, and eventually, at the end, in her brain.
She died in the hospital, with her husband there, telling him that it was time for him to let her go.
Another man, Paul S. worked here for years, retired, and died of a heart attack less than six months later.
Our second Paul S (affectionately called PS2), went out to dinner several years ago and choked on a chicken bone. By the time they were able to clear his airway, he was dead. His family kept him on life support for about a month before they removed it.
Bob had just been diagnosed with lung cancer and was beginning treatment. His heart just gave out one night.
Luke, for reasons known only to God, shot his wife and then himself, leaving devastated children and his parents behind.
My dentist was driving home one night and hit the curb. He was thrown from the car, dying instantly. His wife survived.
My grandfather took most of a year to die, it was his second bout with cancer. It'd gone into remission several years before, but it came back. He died at home, with my grandmother at his side, my uncles having just left after spending several weeks with them. We all knew it was coming.
My other grandmother died in the middle of the night when I was still a kid. She thought she was having an asthma attack, but it was a heart attack.
A young man in town, driving home from the hospital where his wife had just given birth to his daughter, ran into the back of a dump truck.
Caylee Anthony wasn't quite four when she was murdered, most likely by her own mother.
Denise Amber Lee was 21, the mother of two young boys when she was kidnapped and murdered.
Every so often we get an obituary for a child, sometimes even for an infant who lived a short, short time. Once in a while, we will get one for a still birth.
Look at that list. They range from the very young, to the very old. Natural death, accidental, murder.
Early on in RCIA, in the very first 'take-out' Mass, the topic of death came up. Most of the sponsors are older, and they all were talking about how the young fear death, but as they had gotten older, their fear of death diminished. Their faith took over.
I don't fear death.
Most people, when they hear me say that, start looking at me funny. As though they expect me to suddenly jump off a cliff or take up swimming with sharks. Lack of fear of death doesn't make one suicidal. Nor does it take away other fear. I fear some *manners* of dying. I would really, really like to not die by being eaten by something. I'm terrified of heights, and would rather not die that way either. But fear of pain, fear of terror, does not equal fear of death.
I don't fear death, because there's nothing I can do about it. One way or another, my life will end. I'd rather it be later, rather than sooner, because there are things I would like to do, but really, ultimately, I (or anyone) have no say in it.
We will all die. There's no way around it. From the moment we are born, we are dying. It's the natural order.
The point is: Live your life with joy.
Don't spend a ton of time worrying about how or where you're going to die, or when the world is going to end. There's nothing to do about it anyway. You waste of ton of energy and emotion on something that is inevitable.
Find something, every day, that makes you happy. Be thankful that you've been given that day, that hour, that minute. That moment of happiness. Because no matter what anyone may tell you, you still never know.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Motorcycles
Ad Rep on Motorcycle,
Yes, you may believe that your motorcycle, and your leather jacket, and the little leather hat that insist on wearing inside the office make you James Dean. (They don't, by the by...)
However, your 'cool factor' doesn't mean that you are immortal. When coming into the office drive, perhaps you would be better served by staying in your own lane, and not cutting across mine, to zip in all the faster.
And then, when you come by about an hour later, to apologize for 'scaring' me, and I finally realize who the man on the motorcycle was, when I look confused and you say, 'Well you made a face...' do not be surprised when I go:
"Oh, that was you? That wasn't fright. I was thinking, 'God, what an idiot.' Most people speed up to that stop sign and then jerk to a halt. Most people would have hit you."
The face you make when I say 'idiot' amuses me. What did you think I was going to say?
In a fight between your motorcycle and my SUV, the SUV would win. I would feel bad, but I would not be the one in the hospital, or the morgue. So please, be more careful. I have no desire to write your obituary.
Yes, you may believe that your motorcycle, and your leather jacket, and the little leather hat that insist on wearing inside the office make you James Dean. (They don't, by the by...)
However, your 'cool factor' doesn't mean that you are immortal. When coming into the office drive, perhaps you would be better served by staying in your own lane, and not cutting across mine, to zip in all the faster.
And then, when you come by about an hour later, to apologize for 'scaring' me, and I finally realize who the man on the motorcycle was, when I look confused and you say, 'Well you made a face...' do not be surprised when I go:
"Oh, that was you? That wasn't fright. I was thinking, 'God, what an idiot.' Most people speed up to that stop sign and then jerk to a halt. Most people would have hit you."
The face you make when I say 'idiot' amuses me. What did you think I was going to say?
In a fight between your motorcycle and my SUV, the SUV would win. I would feel bad, but I would not be the one in the hospital, or the morgue. So please, be more careful. I have no desire to write your obituary.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Bad Scarf Days
Yes, covering means no more bad hair days, really.
You get to replace them, however, with bad scarf days. Days when no matter what you do, you can not get the scarf to lay right. It folds funny, it slides, the snoody part in the back magically appears to one side of you head, as opposed to the back, where it should be.
And you wind up spending ten minutes in the bathroom at work fixing it.
You get to replace them, however, with bad scarf days. Days when no matter what you do, you can not get the scarf to lay right. It folds funny, it slides, the snoody part in the back magically appears to one side of you head, as opposed to the back, where it should be.
And you wind up spending ten minutes in the bathroom at work fixing it.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Disparity of Cult
Usually, I see this term in regards to marriage, and people not being unequally yoked.
Ideally, a couple should be of the same faith. Obviously, people will marry outside of their faith, or even within their faith, but to (for Christianity), a different denomination. A different cult. When this happens with Catholics, the Catholic spouse has the obligation to raise their children Catholic.
I can imagine how confusing this must be for the children. They are being taught one thing, but one parent, even in the most amicable of households, doesn't follow that tradition. It makes sense that the better way, the preferred way, would be for the parents to be united. Otherwise, one parent must compromise their faith, even in the smallest way, for the others point of view to be taught. Parents must present a united front, after all, or the children will take over!
Even as an adult, I wish that my parents and I shared the same cult. I can't consult them on a lot of faith issues, simply because we're coming from two different starting points.
Ideally, a couple should be of the same faith. Obviously, people will marry outside of their faith, or even within their faith, but to (for Christianity), a different denomination. A different cult. When this happens with Catholics, the Catholic spouse has the obligation to raise their children Catholic.
I can imagine how confusing this must be for the children. They are being taught one thing, but one parent, even in the most amicable of households, doesn't follow that tradition. It makes sense that the better way, the preferred way, would be for the parents to be united. Otherwise, one parent must compromise their faith, even in the smallest way, for the others point of view to be taught. Parents must present a united front, after all, or the children will take over!
Even as an adult, I wish that my parents and I shared the same cult. I can't consult them on a lot of faith issues, simply because we're coming from two different starting points.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
I Like Horror Movies, and I Don't Think That's a Sin
So, yesterday was RCIA class, and we were covering, in some vague way, morality. What is morality, and what is immorality. This has very little to do with that.
On the break, I was talking with two of the other students. We're all about the same age, and we like some of the same things. Namely, horror movies. *pause for gasps of horror* Yes, yes, buckets of blood and gore. Anyway, we were talking about My Bloody Valentine. And one of the teachers walked by. Not one of the priests, not one of the deacons. Just a woman who sometimes teaches us.
And she was just livid at the idea of three grown women watching horror movies! On and on about how disgusting they were and that we should know better, and would we let our children watch these? Well a) none of us have children and b) no. She thinks that we should call for the banning of such things. But here's the thing for me. I'm an adult. I can tell the difference between fantasy (however dark) and reality. Children cannot. Just because a kid shouldn't be exposed to something, does that mean it shouldn't exist? I don't think so. Kids shouldn't drive cars, who's calling for the banning of cars? Kids shouldn't drink, and I don't see anyone trying to ban alcohol on that basis.
If you don't want to watch horror or fantasy, or heck, any television/movie at all, that's your choice. I choose to watch them. I enjoy them.
When it comes to children, it is the parents responsibility to police what your children are doing. Not mine. If you want your children to reject such things as adults, then you have to lay the foundation when they're young, and willing to listen to you.
Of course, I disagree with this woman a lot. She had a huge problem with her son reading a banned book in high school (a Catholic high school) in an English class. The teacher wanted the students to read the book so they could see what it was, and then they were going to discuss and learn and understand why it was banned. And she flipped. Okay, I don't like the idea of banning books anyway, but, the teacher's reason seems logical enough to me. Of course, this is just the woman's version of it, so I'm not even sure we got the whole story.
I'm of the opinion that, "All knowledge is worth having." And yes, the thought has crossed my mind that I'd have been the one to get kicked out of Eden, probably even without Crawley. Tree of Knowledge? Gimme.
On the break, I was talking with two of the other students. We're all about the same age, and we like some of the same things. Namely, horror movies. *pause for gasps of horror* Yes, yes, buckets of blood and gore. Anyway, we were talking about My Bloody Valentine. And one of the teachers walked by. Not one of the priests, not one of the deacons. Just a woman who sometimes teaches us.
And she was just livid at the idea of three grown women watching horror movies! On and on about how disgusting they were and that we should know better, and would we let our children watch these? Well a) none of us have children and b) no. She thinks that we should call for the banning of such things. But here's the thing for me. I'm an adult. I can tell the difference between fantasy (however dark) and reality. Children cannot. Just because a kid shouldn't be exposed to something, does that mean it shouldn't exist? I don't think so. Kids shouldn't drive cars, who's calling for the banning of cars? Kids shouldn't drink, and I don't see anyone trying to ban alcohol on that basis.
If you don't want to watch horror or fantasy, or heck, any television/movie at all, that's your choice. I choose to watch them. I enjoy them.
When it comes to children, it is the parents responsibility to police what your children are doing. Not mine. If you want your children to reject such things as adults, then you have to lay the foundation when they're young, and willing to listen to you.
Of course, I disagree with this woman a lot. She had a huge problem with her son reading a banned book in high school (a Catholic high school) in an English class. The teacher wanted the students to read the book so they could see what it was, and then they were going to discuss and learn and understand why it was banned. And she flipped. Okay, I don't like the idea of banning books anyway, but, the teacher's reason seems logical enough to me. Of course, this is just the woman's version of it, so I'm not even sure we got the whole story.
I'm of the opinion that, "All knowledge is worth having." And yes, the thought has crossed my mind that I'd have been the one to get kicked out of Eden, probably even without Crawley. Tree of Knowledge? Gimme.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Decorating your work space
There should be some sort of limit, really, to decorating your desk. The woman two desks behind me has feng shui-d her desk, which, fine, we all think you're a bit silly, but go for it. This latest though, she has, over the weekend, brought in a 3 foot tall bodhisattva and perched it on her desk. It looks sort of like this:
Is this really necessary for the flow of your chi? It's not even a very pretty one, just some hollow ceramic thing, painted to look like its stone. It's just so huge!
We (myself and others who sit next to her), may or may not have moved things, thus un-shui-ing her desk. This was (almost entirely) unintentional. We were curious, and like curious monkeys, we must touch!
Edit: And I may or may not have made it a little paper crown.
Edit 2: And a cape.
Is this really necessary for the flow of your chi? It's not even a very pretty one, just some hollow ceramic thing, painted to look like its stone. It's just so huge!
We (myself and others who sit next to her), may or may not have moved things, thus un-shui-ing her desk. This was (almost entirely) unintentional. We were curious, and like curious monkeys, we must touch!
Edit: And I may or may not have made it a little paper crown.
Edit 2: And a cape.
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