From Face-Chat to Face-to-Face... A Most Memorable Meeting

During the year that I have been maintaining this blog (and for anyone that has traveled with me for that long, THANK YOU!!!), I feel that I have at times been unfair in my comments about the power of modern technology, particularly the Internet. 

I have a tendency to be a bit cynical (I'm sure you've picked that up, haven't you?), and although I try to say things as politically correct as possible, sometimes my sarcasm slips through.

What can I say?  I'm human.

In all sincerity, however, I would like to officially apologize for anything derogatory I may have said about "www.com."  Seriously.  I take it all back.  

Okay.  There are no "take backs" in life.  Especially when it comes to the written or spoken word.  Believe me, I've learned this the hard way.  Justifications, excuses, and even apologies occasionally  come close to erasing the thing you long to take back, but they never really do.  Not fully.

I don't think that "www.com" has suffered much from any harsh comments I might have uttered, however.  It seems to be pretty firmly established in our society.  Nothing I can say will make it go away, that's for sure!

And after this past week's events, I don't want it to go away.  EVER!!!

Last Friday, I had the pleasure of witnessing what was certainly one of the greatest joys of "V"s very long lifetime.

When I first met her last August, it was immediately following the birth of her fourth great-grandson, whose parents happen to reside in another country.  

And I believe it was during my first weekend with her that I witnessed her actually interacting with the beautiful new baby first-hand, "www.com" and the power of modern technology.

I remember being quite impressed that "V" owned an I-Pad.  I myself don't own an I-Pad.  For Christmas this past year, I was given a lovely little Kindle by a dear old friend, and I treasure it.  And recently, Verizon talked me into purchasing a lovely little tablet for a mere $25.00 when I went in to buy just a keyboard and nothing but a keyboard to use on my lovely little Kindle.  So that I could write entries on my blog, which just so happens to be part of "www.com" (Gee... I never really thought of that before... I've been criticizing and popularizing the very thing I criticized this entire time!  My bad!!!).  

But I still don't have an I-Pad, which seems to be the bigger and best choice for portability and convenience among Internet users (at least if you want to keep your vision in tact, as I unfortunately learned at my eye doctor appointment two weeks ago when I was prescribed bi-focals.  Bi-focals!!!  Really???  No one in my family ever needed Bi-focals at such a young age.  My vision had been fine a few years ago.  Granted, I qualified for AARP benefits a year ago, and have been using store-bought reading glasses for a while, but gee whiz... BI-FOCALS!!!  Those are for old people, right?  Wrong!  It seems I'm a contributor to stereotyping as much as anyone else, and I'm not at ALL proud of it!).  Anyway... I digress... And apologize.

Yes.  When I first met "V" ten months ago, she and her I-Pad seemed to be very close friends indeed.  Granted, much of their interaction involved long games of Solitaire, during which I did not hear as many winning bells as I would have liked to.  Every now and then, the I-Pad would ring or ding, which meant that "V" had an e-mail coming in, but she generally ignored these interruptions in favor of battling her beloved Solitaire.  And occasionally, the gadget would play short, charmingly delightful musical rift, indicating that a phone call was coming through.  Sometimes "V" could hear it, but often she could not.  And again, sometimes she would ignore these interruptions in favor of battling her beloved Solitaire.

If I happened to be close by during a ringing, a dinging, or a charmingly delightful musical rift, I would drop whatever I was doing and run to "V"s side, desperately trying to catch whatever "www.com" was trying to send through.  When the I-Pad was on her lap or next to her, "V" sometimes responded to the sounds herself, usually if she was reading a large-print book and not playing you-know-what.  And the results of these responses were always remarkable

Sometimes, it was a call from her son who did not live nearby.  "V" is always happy to hear from both of her sons, as well as other family members, but it seemed to bring special joy to her that she could actually interact with her farther away son during a face-to-face conversation on her I-Pad.

I soon learned that this process is called "face-chatting", and I have to admit, I was impressed.  I recalled the many times I stood on line at the pay phone in my college dormitory thirty-something years ago, desperately waiting to phone someone I genuinely cared for and greatly missed, (after 11pm of course, because the rates went down then).  I particularly remember that the wait seemed like an eternity...

Then I remembered the process of sending hand-written letters.  Some of you MUST remember those, right?  Those long-ago things that generally were printed on paper, placed in an envelope, and posted by the U.S. Mail?  I sent a LOT of those, being a long-winded, romantic English Major with a preponderance of words that absolutely must be said in a sappy letter or mushy card.  To be fair, I actually received quite a few in return, and still have some of them in a flowery keep-sake box.  I pretend to be jaded about such things, but truth be told, I'm still romantic, sappy, and mushy.  And let's not forget long-winded!

Most people (and I say most because, believe it or not, in today's computerized world, I've actually met some folks who do not seem to fit in with the following statement) value connecting with people they care about.  I stress the word value because it's comforting to know that in our technological world, there is still value in human connection.

Most people now connect via some form of the Internet.  It's just the way things are.  Even our televisions are controlled by Internet carriers, and it's unusual for someone to not have a bundled package of services that include telephone, television, (a thousand cable channels to choose from instead of the the 4 or 5 channels we AARP folks got to select from, if your antenna was facing the right way and you lived near enough to a major city), and, of course, the Internet.  And out of those three, I would bet that a majority of people choose their bundled service carrier based on its Internet capacity, rather then its telephone or television capability.  I could be wrong, though, and if I am, well... I am!

"V" does a lot of her connecting through the Internet, since she has quite a few family members that live a long distance away.  Not all the time, but some of the time.  And she has a bundled service package that allows her to do so for an exorbitant monthly price because they are the only game in town.  (I have the same carrier, so I'm allowed to state that it is indeed exorbitant!).

That's how she can keep in touch with her son.  And two of her grand-children.  Connections she values greatly.  Through this "face-chatting" process, where she is not only able to speak with her loved ones, but also see them at the same time!  And vice versa!  I must admit, that's pretty cool!!!

And that's how she has maintained contact for the past ten months of our acquaintance with her newest great-grandson, a precious and gorgeous ten month old whose parents live in another country.

Through the magic of "face-time", which, at least to me, seems as close to magic as you can get. 

I have to confess, I was mesmerized the first time I witnessed a conversation while "V" was using it.  I don't have face-time myself, so I don't benefit from its magic.  Yet.  And I'm okay with that (for now).  E-mailing is just fine for me (at the moment).  And then there's Face Booking.  Yes!!!  Yes!!!  I admit it!!!  I like to communicate via Face Book!!!  It is amazingly instantaneous and gratifying, which is what people in our world today want, if I'm not mistaken.  Don't let the word get out to too many people, but I have a confession to make.  I actually still write letters and cards that are sent through the U.S. Mail.  Not to a lot of people.  But a few.  And I still feel a surge of genuine, unadulterated JOY when a letter or card addressed to me shows up at the post office.  Ahhhhhh...  The good old days of delayed gratification and patience.  In fact, some cards should be coming my way this week for my first post-AARP birthday!

"V" likes cards and letters very much, by the way.  She keeps an address book on her dining room table, and still sends out birthday and holiday cards to valued friends, as well as receives them when she is having a special day. 

To My Dear....      With Love Always....

But nothing can compare to being with someone you care about in person.  Not a letter.  Or a card.  Or a phone call.  Or a "face-time" chat (there are other names for this type of communication as well).  Nothing is quite as valuable as connecting with someone face-to-face.

And that most genuine form of human contact, where one's true feelings are out there in the open for all to see, is what I was greatly privileged to witness during my most recent visit with "V".

After ten months of "face-time", "V"s newest grandson, a beautiful baby boy with charisma and charm that cannot be completely captured on a computer screen, was right there!!!  In the middle of her living room.  Surrounded by two of "V"s grand-children (one of which was the baby's father, accompanied by the baby's wonderful mother), three of her older great-grandsons (and their wonderful mother), and "V"s faraway son, the baby's proud Grandfather.

Words aren't enough to describe the look on "V"s face every time she looked at this amazing child.  And, at least for the time I was there, it was difficult to find a moment when "V" was not looking at him!  Cherishing him.  Adoring him.  Taking in every sound, smell, sight, and touch of this amazing new life.

FACE-TO-FACE!!!  IN-PERSON!!!  Right before her very eyes in her very own home from her very own chair with her very own family surrounding her.

It was astounding to be in the room for this incredible occasion, and it is moments like this that make being a Caregiver such a wonderful thing. 

I could not be more grateful that I was able to see "V" interact with this beloved baby boy who stood (well... sort of stood... he was actually propped, positioned, and held, but it won't be long before he really is standing on his own) only inches away from her. 

The expression on her face was invaluable, the tears joyful, the joy genuine...  At one point, I think every single person in the room had a camera or camera-phone flashing at the baby and his Great-Grandma.  Except me.  I stupidly left the phone in the car because I was so excited to rush into the house to see "V" and the baby.

No worries, though.  There were plenty of pictures.  And, thanks to the wonder of modern technology, some of the photos were quickly posted on "www.com" via the Internet for everyone to see, wherever they happened to be located.

In fact, much to my surprise, there is a picture of the baby propped up against "V"s chair, with her looking proudly down on him.

But wait...  What's that in between the two of them?  Look closely.... Oh no!!!  It's me!!!  The crazy caregiver who had to be right near all the action!!!  Immortalized on Face Book!!!  I'm not savvy enough to transfer the photo to this blog, and for many reasons, perhaps that is meant to be.  But for those people who are lucky (???) enough to be my Face Book Friends, the picture is somewhere on my Timeline.  (I'm' not entirely sure what exactly my Timeline is, but trust me, the photo is there!)

After the visit ended and all the family members had departed, "V" was exhausted.  Just plain pooped!  For that matter, so was I!  I whipped up a quick dinner for us (Yes!!!  Me!!!  Okay... It was only pasta and microwaveable meatballs, but it involved the stove and a pot, so that qualifies as cooking in my book!), which we ate while watching "Jeopardy."  But by the next television show, "America's Game... Wheel of Fortune", "V" was dozing in her chair, an extremely content and peaceful expression on her face.

She looked so beautiful...  

And I felt so grateful to have been there for a most memorable meeting between "V" and her newest great-grandson... who is also beautiful.

It is only then, in the satisfying silence of a wonderful event experienced first-hand, I realized that it was my son's birthday!  Seventeen!  Where had the years gone?

Me and My Baby Boy, Peter - 1998

We had celebrated that morning with the opening of gifts, and he was spending the weekend with a good friend, so I knew that he was preoccupied with teenage talk (face-to-face and probably on "www.com" as well), and therefore wouldn't miss me too terribly much!  In fact, he was probably grateful that I was spending the evening with my friend "V" rather than getting in the way of him and his almost seventeen-year-old buddy.


But I couldn't help but think back... to when he was just a baby... and when I flew him from the Bay Area of California (where we resided at the time) to New York State to visit my beloved Grandmother, Rose, for the first time.  He was only five months old!  It was so much easier to fly way back then... before 9/11 changed the world irrevocably.

She was only 87 at the time, nine years younger than "V" is now.  I will never forget the joyful tears and heart-warming expression on her face when she saw my son, Peter, (named after her husband and my grandfather, Peter), for the very first time.  In person.  Face-to-face.  Because seventeen years ago, all we had were photographs.  And videotapes.  And these types of things were still sent frequently accompanied by a letter or card via the U.S. Mail.  And, of course, there were phone calls... much easier ones than when I was in college waiting on that long line that seemed to take forever...

Peter and Grandma (Granny) - Watching "Blues Clues" - 1998

It's ironic how much times have changed in such a short amount of time!

I wondered what "www.com" will look like in seventeen more years, as well as what sort of technology I will see when I am as old as my Grandmother or "V", if I am lucky (???) enough to live that long.

I also wondered... do I even want to be around to see it?

The verdict is sadly out on that question.

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY - PART 2

Me and My Dad - December 18th, 2012

I can finally tell you a little more about this Father's Day, and I apologize for the two-day delay.  I wasn't able to write anything on the actual day, although I had so many thoughts swimming in my brain.  It was more like they were drowning in my brain, and needed life preservers desperately. 

Luckily, I found the life preservers during my visit to my Dad's place of rest, a Mausoleum that consists only of engraved marble stones to honor the residents. 

My Sister, Colleen, went with me to visit my Dad.  She is only fifteen months younger than me, and as little girls, my parents and grandparents used to dress us alike.  I think it was more my grandparents' doing.  In particular my Grandmother, as my Grandfather would do whatever she asked him to.  She was sooooooooooo happy that her daughter had baby girls, as her son had four boys and only one girl!  Grandmothers can be funny that way.  What's even funnier is that my Sister and I have always been polar opposites in so may ways.  Hairstyles.  Clothing.  Interests.  You name it, we probably did it differently!  Sisters can be funny that way.

But we did, and still do, share one very important thing... our love for our Father, Bill Wilson.  And since his passing on Valentine's Day, Colleen had not been to his resting place, and was understandably a bit anxious about the Father's Day visit.  Being the brave big Sister, I assured her that everything would be fine.  I had been there before on St. Patrick's Day, and found it to be extremely peaceful and pleasant (except for the bitter cold and a wicked wind that chilled right through my bones!).  Sure.  The place was bound to be busier on Father's Day than on St. Patrick's Day (I was the only soul in site!), but we could handle it!  We'd get through the sadness together.  Besides, the day was absolutely beautiful.  Sunny.  Seasonable.  Not too hot.  Not too cold.  Low humidity (I hate humidity.  It makes my hair all weird!)  Just right.  Probably the nicest day we've had so far all year!

Were we in for a surprise when we arrived at the cemetery.  I'd never seen one quite like this.  There were no tombstones, as there were for my beloved Grandparents.  Rows and rows and rows of tombstones.  Not a one at this place!  Just marble plaques.  They were displayed as memorial benches.  And placed into the ground in extremely well-manicured grass.  There were even memorial boulders, where you could have your loved one's ashes placed.  I think I'd go for the boulder, if I chose to be at a cemetery (which I probably won't because I'd rather become one with nature in some other manner, like being tossed out in the ocean or off a mountain or something similar to that).  The boulder was definitely a cool idea, though.

A lovely view for a former Climber and Pruner!

My Dad was in the actual Mausoleum.  An expansive marble structure with many different sections that were home to thousands of marble plaques.  It could be very confusing if you didn't know where you were going, because the structure had different levels, with one stairwell that reminded me of walking down into a train station. 

Dad's drawer (for lack of a better word... when he was placed there, the coffin was slid into a big drawer) was facing the outside, and had a beautiful view (if drawers can have a "view") of the lush green hills and fully bloomed trees.  He would have liked that, being a climber and pruner for a living.  Lots of greenery.  He would have absolutely loved pruning one of those giant maple trees adorned with his ropes and harness and chainsaw.  In hindsight, our garage was rather scary when I was a child.  Just a bit too many ropes and harnesses and chainsaws.  Not to mention the wood chipper across the street.  Not your average Craftsman cabinets from Sears chock full of practical tools for the at-home handy-man. We were always the odd family on the block, anyway.

My Sister and I were also surprised at the casualness of the cemetery.  Some families had settled in on the lawn to have a picnic, complete with umbrellas, lawn chairs, and food baskets, right near their loved one's in-the-ground marble stone.  It felt a little bit like a musical concert at one of those outdoor pavilions.  Quite a relaxing site on a Sunday afternoon in June, yet also bit off key (pardon the pun) given the venue we were in.

Father's Day - June 15th, 2014

My Dad's marble mausoleum stone is still very bare.  He's one of the newer guests.  I looked into the prices of having a weather-proof photo plaque placed on the stone, or even a simple flower holder.  $400.00 for the simple flower holder!!!  Yikes!  

I decided to take another route rather than displaying fake flowers in a $400.00 container permanently mounted on my Dad's marble stone.  

Stickers!  I had plenty of them at home.  I like stickers.  And stores like to sell stickers to people just like me, who use them for oh so many things.  Tag Sales.  Lost Pet Signs (Sad, but true.  Although I did have success once in finding my beloved dog, Goldie.  She passed away three summers ago, but thanks to the stickers on the giant poster-board signs, we were able to locate her after she went missing.  Granted, it cost $2,500.00 for her new leg, as she had broken one of hers during her twelve day ordeal.  But at the time, my husband and I were able to pay for the bill with something called Care Credit on a monthly installment plan.  And when Goldie got older, and had difficulty walking, that new leg was the one that worked the best!  Go figure!  Modern medical technology at its finest!).  Cards and Scrapbooks.  Flyers.  And now Mausoleum decorations!

It seemed like a good idea.  My only concern was that we might get arrested for defacing property.  No one else had stickers.  They all had flowers.  In the $400.00 containers permanently mounted to the marble stones.  In fact, many of them had artificial flowers, which I figured was due to the fact that the families couldn't afford real ones after paying the $400.00!

But it is technically "our" property.  Granted, my Dad and his wife had purchased the drawer and stone years ago, so it is definitely their property.  But after all, Colleen and I are his daughters, and he is our Father, and we had both watched sorrowfully as his body, contained in a shiny coffin, was slid into that drawer, now concealed by the marble stone, only a few months ago.  Surely we were entitled to decorate the stone with some stickers to commemorate Father's Day.  Weren't we?

I didn't care.  I got busy with my stickers while my Sister cheered me on.  I was always the one to take risks.  Bright green stickers (because Daddy liked greenery) saying "Happy Father's Day".  A few hearts in pretty pastel colors (that's all the store had).  And the word love written out in letters from a psychedelic display I had planned for my porch.  Yes.  I admit it.  I'm a hippie at heart.  Something that, at times, made my Dad cringe.  How we used to fight over my peace, love, and happiness beliefs when I was a teenager.  Harsh words from him about how those ideas would never get me anywhere in life.  Thirty-five years later I still cling to those ideas, although I have a better understanding of where his words were coming from.  He just wanted me to be okay.  To be able to take care of myself as an adult... The same thing I now want for my teenage son.

How ironic that I was now decorating his memorial mausoleum stone with my hippie heart. 

Somehow, I don't think he would have minded.  Not one bit.  Rather, he would have been pleased at the sight of his two polar opposite daughters celebrating his memory in a fun way rather than mourning over a memorial marble stone.  The hippie and the fashionista, united in our mission to honor our Dad.

Yes.  You read it correctly.  Fun.  My Sister and I had FUN at the cemetery.  It was enjoyable to decorate Daddy's marble stone with words and pictures reflecting our love for him.  In fact, I wish there was another holiday sooner than his birthday so that I can do some more stickering!  And since his birthday happens to fall on September 11th, I'm not sure how much decorating I should do.  I don't know.  Maybe the brave men and women who gave their lives on that unforgettable day in our Nation's history would enjoy the display, as there is a monument to 9/11 within viewing range of my Dad's stone. 

What's even better is that our Dad is finally near to us geographically.  Even though he lived in Florida for most of the past decade, he is now at rest in a location that is only ten minutes from the house we grew up in... the one with the ropes, harnesses, and chainsaws in the garage.  And don't forget that wood chipper across the street!  That odd Wilson family!

I promise I will visit you again soon, Dad!  I'm sure I can find lots of stickers of trees and shrubs, although you won't really need them, since you are surrounded by so many lovely ones.

Hey, Dad?  You never saw my mobile home.  It's a bit old, but I've made it cozy.  I decided to decorate the large enclosed porch with stickers!  You'll never guess what kind!  Here's a photo of your hippie daughter's back door!  Don't worry.  I can take care of myself! And wherever you are, I know you are embraced by peace, love, and happiness.

To my loyal readers (if there are any left), I promise all of you that I will update you very soon on my visits with "V".  Here's a brief preview:  She has been doing wonderfully, and is as much of a delight as always!!!

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY

All I can say today is Happy Father's Day.  My sister, Colleen, and I, miss our Dad, Bill Wilson, very much.  We hope that he is resting somewhere surrounded by peace, love, and happiness.

Me, My Dad, and My Sister - 1989

Daddy and His Two Girls - 1965