Moving Again

"For every complex problem, there is an answer that is simple, neat, and wrong."

"Life is a constant oscillation between the sharp horns of dilemmas."

by H. L. Mencken


This is how I feel about some of the decisions generated by our "committee of five"** over the last 24 months with regard to the care needs of our aging parents. Mom and Dad are critical members of this committee to be sure but we, as the middle aged children, solid citizens sandwiched between the generations are in the position of power. This responsibility I enjoy not, particularly my fears that the next step still won't be quite right.

Why is it so difficult to find the solution? The answer is simple; much like buying a house (unless fortunate to have the resources to design the project from ground up) you must "settle" for a flaw here, an undesirable feature there for the perceived greater good. There are so many factors to consider; two individuals with different needs, level of social support, location, square footage (becoming smaller with each move), safety, and financial issues. There's bound to be need for compromise but the hope is that the positives outweigh the negatives. We can't be faulted for not trying. We are a tenacious force; searching, weighing options and pressing forward because settling for status quo is not an option. There must be something better out there.

Mom and Dad's time at Crista, in my view, was a "hiccup", an innocently misguided choice that just didn't work. Although we all suffer in the process of another move, it is the two in question who struggle the most as they uproot from the only permanence they know and transition again into the unknown with new faces, routines, and physical surroundings. One has to hope that the wildlife, the view of green, city and mountains, the feeling of home and skilled caretakers who connect and honor these two as revered elders with a lifetime of experiences and wisdom will bring some peace into their lives. They deserve nothing less.

** DVT, DBT, MMH, JT, and KT

Law and Medicine

Here we are "all happy" and celebrating D's graduation from Law School on Sunday 6/15/08. Less than 24 hours later, D, embroiled in a gruesome 5 week marathon Bar Review course, says that it is nothing less than an all out exhausting study fest. He learned at the first session yesterday that not only is this a lecture hall review course for 4-5 hours Monday through Friday on the U.W. campus but participants are expected to study at home for an additional 7-8 hours; writing and reading. Five days a week would be tough enough but this insanity is 7 days a week from what D heard at orientation yesterday. Oy. That's harder than Law School in full session.

I've learned that the Bar Exam is unique to each U.S. state; in Washington it is entirely essays written over three days. Hence, the emphasis on take home writing assignments that are reviewed and critiqued. D says they were told that if they "do" all this writing, reading, and studying they are basically guaranteed to pass the exam in late July. That's important.

I remember our medical school days. We passed through basic science classes and clinical rotations, and on to the stage to receive our diplomas, the degree M.D. conferred after three years (we were the last 3 year curriculum for U.T. Houston). Then, it was on to internship and residency which were exercises in practical, paid, on the job learning; grueling and long but essential. Gaining experience, we faced a looming, distant qualifying exam in our specialty but there was no "review course" (although there may be now). We studied on our own, took another exam (no essays) and waited a few months for the envelope to arrive with our scores and hopefully our "board certification". For those of us who went on to sub-specialize, another qualifying exam provided a second piece of paper "suitable for framing". This was all over 20 years ago for me.

Of all these framed documents (medical diploma, residency and internship certificates, and two board certifications), the one that means the most to me is the board certification in Internal Medicine. The exam was grueling; 2 days, but no essays. Fill in the dots (a, b, c, d, e and worse yet the a/c, b/d, all of the above, or none of the above potential answers). It was the toughest exam I ever took and made the Nephrology boards seem easy by comparison. Fortunately, I took these exams in the dark ages of the 1980s before the time when board certification came with an expiration date. Nowadays, certification expires in 10 years and a re qualifying exam is required. This is a sensible idea and certainly one that encourages physicians to keep current. But, I'm thankful not to be taking fill in the dot exams (ever again, I hope). Grandfathered (or grand-mothered) in, I don't have to sit for any more of these rites of passage. Mine lasts forever.

I've resigned myself to not seeing D except in passing until after the Bar Exam is over. There are three huge paperback books (like phone books) that sit on our family room table. He's got to get through all these and worse yet, remember all that information. Or, at least remember the concepts and be able to recall from there, the logical progression of thought. I don't envy this process and am thankful that my obligations are entirely different right now. These things, I can do grumbling all the way but they are do-able to be sure.

M.D., J.D.

Yesterday Denny and Chris donned their graduation caps and gowns and posed together to mark the unusual occurrence of two major rites of passage in the Maher family within the week. Father and son, both recipients of hard earned degrees, make us all very proud. Their "high five" moment
stands in contrast to the whack-0 shot of their feet in the back yard dressed in official regalia from mid calf up. I'm sure they won't like this particular view but it was fun to photograph them together; great chemistry between these two.

And today, Sunday June 15 was Denny's day to be honored as he received his J.D. from the University of Washington School of Law. A grand Father's Day gift as well.

I shot some video of Denny crossing the stage to receive his diploma (below). I know Ed and Virginia, his parents would be so proud to see their son earn the second of two doctoral degrees. Ed always encouraged Denny to go into law but that wasn't in the cards until decades later. I know my Mom and Dad would have loved to see both Chris and Denny receive their diplomas this June and am sorry that it wasn't possible to have them join us for a close up view of the action. Thankfully there are photographs and videos to share.




To Dennis Patrick Maher, M.D., J.D. : Congratulations!
Now it's on to the Bar Exam; knock 'em dead!

20 and 90

This has been a tough week, much like spending time between the proverbial
"rock and a hard place". Just plain stony hard, serious, exasperating, and exhausting. I know the days could be so much worse so I acknowledge that "this" experience is nothing, compared. I'm reminded again that life is so fragile, so precious; Tim Russert's untimely death yesterday of a myocardial infarction and ventricular arrhythmia is a sober acknowledgment that none of us has any guarantee of our next day, or even our next minute. Wishing desperately that I could know this from deep within and not take anything for granted or seek to change everything, bending it my way.

But, sitting in the midst of tiresome, seeming never-ending challenge, life sometimes just doesn't feel good. The phrase, "this too shall pass" is certainly true but lately it seems the good things pass and the not-so-good stick around for awhile, tenaciously attached like an annoying gnat. There must be lessons to be learned from this irritation. I'm thinking the lessons are right before my eyes and perhaps in the form of the prayer of Saint Francis of Assisi whose words resonate deeply with me.

Those in my life who are at the extremes of age (20 and 90) tax me mightily. My love for them is endless, unchangeable, forever. Bedrock.

But, the path right now is rugged. Both in the last days have asked me the same question, "Do you think I'm an idiot?" Different contexts but the same question. I pause to wonder; that they both found my inquiries annoying and inappropriate says something about me. I have much to learn and ask for grace. I have no experience; who ever does? We just move along the best we can because each moment is new, untrodden territory.

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
Where there is sadness, joy.

O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
To be consoled as to console,

To be understood as to understand,
To be loved as to love;
For it is in giving that we receive;
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
It is in dying to the self that we are born to eternal life.

Saint Francis of Assisi

Poetry Instead

Untitled....

She says she feels "superfluous".
a feeling of worthlessness, of being unnecessary,
needless.

This, spoken when tears and anxieties consume us both
in a quiet room, at night when thoughts become
menacing monsters, unnameable.

In our mutual exhaustion, reaching towards each other
from the opposite ends of generations,
we sit in silence, struggling to voice the next sentence.

We both know the pain of loss, mine as witness to the
ceaseless passage of time, hers as growing knowledge
through tangled threads of consciousness,
that the time for dreams realized has passed.

What then of the choices that belong to her?
What prayers offered to soothe our pain?
What small and simple pleasures to pluck from a tree that
struggles to survive?

She says she wants "to be loved". Who among us
cannot say the same?
To belong: valued, included, and honored for who we are;
this universal longing. Superfluous; never.

I hold her close, I feel the shiver of her shoulders.
"Lord", I whisper to myself, "let me be an instrument of your peace".
And morning eventually comes.

Hiatus

Hiatus

a break
respite
interlude
space
interval
time away
vacation
holiday
sabbatical
breathing room
retreat
renewal
quiet time
time out
just a moment

Anonymous

January to June

No worries here; this tree is just a late bloomer. The brittle leaves of autumn, brown and tenacious clung to lower branches until evicted by the new buds in late spring. The full burst of green held back until early June but this beauty is now lush with the color of summer.