My Mother's Birthday

Today's my Mother's 92nd birthday. I wish she had been around to celebrate more than the 64 she lived. So far that's 3 more than me. I was 33 when she died so I was around her twice as long as my father. It's hard for me to decide which one I was closer too--it seems like I wasn't close to either one--but that's probably me thinking about the distance I maintain with everyone.

Katherine Marcella Pie was born April 23, 1915. She grew up in a family of 9 children. From everything her siblings told me (and my own observations) she was the brightest and smartest. She kept copies of letters she wrote from 1938--1948 to a friend. I first saw them a few years ago and they are so revealing. In fact that's one reason I created this site--it reveals more of me than I would ever share in public.

Anyway she was a gifted writer, and that talent is one she passed on to me and my brother. She wrote 2 novels, she could sew and knit, but I think her most endearing quality was the love and devotion she bestowed on my father. This wasn't obvious to me at the time, but looking back things sometimes get clear. When he died in 1962 she was devastated. She suffered 2 mental breakdowns over the next year--one of which institutionalized her for about 5 months.



From then until she died it seemed to me that she just didn't care about life any more. It was painful for me to watch, not able to really help her in any way that changed things. Looking back I just gave up and moved on with my life. I've done that since in 2 marriages--not knowing how to connect then giving up and moving on. But in reflections with my brother Mark we don't seem to come up with anything we could have done to help our mother move on after the death of our father.



Looking back on her life though I think there was a 3 year period from 1963--66 where she helped Mark and I develop. That was my last year of high school and first years at college. Mark was 2 years behind me. During that time she re-obtained her nursing credentials and worked at the hospital. During those years there was enough stability and financial assistance so Mark and I could go on to college. Right after my father died I was told there wasn't enough money for either one of us to go anywhere after high school except to work. I think my mother pushed herself so we could further our education somewhere--she knew there was potential and she wanted to jump start it for both of us.



I think my mother showed us the way to get up and start flying on our own during those years. Something happened at the hospital in 1966 where she was accused of doing something incorrectly and after that she never worked again. Instead the long downward spiral started again and didn't end until she died on June 24, 1979.



So, Mother here's to you on your 94th birthday. Like I said in my fathers post on his 100th, I wish we could have celebrated more of them in person. And I also wish the two of you could have had more than 16 years of marriage.

God--Where Are You?

The massacre at Virginia Tech makes me wonder--again--is there really a God the way most religions portray him? How could an almighty being create a person who then destroys32 people who were productive members of society? Of course it's not the first time this has happened. From folks like Adolph Hitler through Charles Whitman thousands of evil or fucked up humans have destroyed others who did not deserve to die.

I cannot imagine a God in heaven (wherever) being all loving, all forgiving and almighty creating that kind of havoc. Instead I believe in the laws of nature: lots of things happen just because. People die because of illness, accidents, war, violence, etc. Over the course of history many bad ass people have done a lot of evil stuff. I've had my share of illness, I've driven and cycled thousands of miles, I've sat in class rooms, restaurants, and many other places where accidents or violent acts could have occurred. I've had my share of surgeries and accidents where something could have gone wrong and killed me.

Why have I lived 61 years while others have not? I have no idea. I don't think it's because some almighty being is "looking after me". And what will happen when I die? While it would be nice to think there's some place like heaven, I think I'll turn into dust/compost while the natural world goes on. I'm not trying to convince anyone there isn't a God; I just don't think anyone can convince me there is.