Terrorism

Well...what a harrowing and frightening week we’ve been through, huh? As these marathon tragedies have resulted in a marathon of news coverage, it’s hard to believe that this most recent crisis all began only a week ago tomorrow. And it seems that these traumatic events and the need for individuals, communities, and our nation to “heal” seems to be now a regular part of our morning news and dog park conversations. 

Children being killed, innocent bystanders losing their lives and limbs, our president attending memorial services....now occurring on a frighteningly regular basis. Every time I hear our local news begin a segment with solemn music or a “special edition of the Today Show,” I wonder, “What now?” Even here in Maine with my (hopefully) safe distance from the horrors that touch so many lives, it seems we all walk through our days carrying certain, omni-present levels of anger, sadness, and fear.

I lived through the transition of the simplicity and sanity of the late 50’s into the chaotic drama and upheaval of the mid to late 60’s. The only fears I knew as a small child arose from the weekly weekend rehearsals of air raid sirens and the Cuban missile crisis. Then came the Kennedy assassination, Bobby and MLK, Kent State, and Nam. Our country could no longer sustain its innocence as Elvis and the Beach Boys gave way to music laced with tension and rebellion. 

I think we’re now going through another such evolution in the way we think, believe, and behave. Even in the late 60’s, we could still believe that we were ultimately the stronger country and that our police, military, and missiles would protect us from the rest of the world. Now, it seems we are not in control of our safety or even ourselves. A psychiatrist I knew years ago defined the mental health system as “deviance control.” Well, it now feels like the world can longer control its deviance. Instead, the deviance seems to be controlling us. 

But I’m really not here today to talk about these acts of senseless violence. These losses of life and limb caused by violent maniacs burn through all our psyches while leaving permanent, painful scars to those more closely touched. No, I’m here to identify this country’s true terrorists whose actions directly affect far more of our citizens than those of a couple of narcissistic, selfish, spoiled, homicidal twits from Chechnya. 

These domestic terrorists would be....

Congress: Speaking of narcissistic and selfish, as congressional Republicans have forced the so-called “sequester,” they have compromised funding that provides invaluable health care services to women, child-care, programs that protect families from domestic violence, and policies that simply offer an opportunity for a sense of well-being among many of our citizens. Who knows how many lives will be affected and how many deaths will result because of this blind, obstructionist arrogance. 

Congress (again): What do you think is the most important goal of your average politician? You guessed it....reelection. That’s right. I just can’t think of any other possible reason...rational or otherwise...to explain how anyone in a position of power to make a true difference in our society could not see the need for some form of background checks for gun purchasers. When I moved to Maine roughly twelve years ago, I had to first qualify and then wait months to sit for an oral exam allowing me to practice psychology in the state....this after practicing for nearly twenty years an hour and a half away in Massachusetts. Tell me why oh why can we not require someone to prove he’s not nuts or has a violent past before owning a deadly weapon. Assault rifles? Automatic weapons? Tell me how many casualties will result as a result of this pursuit of....reelection. As these (mostly) Republican parasites eventually...and hopefully soon...leave office to a life of luxury and the relative luxury of retirement with their rich buddies, they will leave in their wake pain and suffering impossible to measure or anticipate.

The insurance industry: Check out the names atop some of this nation’s largest and tallest buildings....yes, they would be insurance companies. That is because the word “insurance” is actually a misnomer. You see, they don’t actually expect to pay for anything they promise to cover. Have a car accident? They will pay for the repairs and then charge you more. Get sick? Oops....pre-existing condition. Not covered. Not necessary. And, with Obama’s programs to correct these unfair practices, the buddies of these fat cats (Republicans...again) devote their lives to protecting not us but the deep pockets of the fat cats and their own tight pants. Just check the corporate profits as each year they request and are granted rate increases.

The pharmaceutical industry: You’ll have to tell me how a single pill can cost hundreds of dollars. Tell me how pills become less expensive when they loose their patent protections and become more expensive as people get sicker and older. Then we’ll talk.

The oil industry: Remember when, if oil prices rose, we were given weak excuses such as a refinery closed or an increase in cartel prices? Ever notice that now we rarely hear even those weak excuses? While staying at a bed and breakfast a few years ago, I met an oil executive from New Jersey over breakfast. He admitted to me that, more often than not, there was no real reason for the increases in gas prices. Rather, it was just the industry’s way of establishing higher and higher standard as people became used to higher prices. Then there is the outrageous price of heating oil resulting in families in colder climates (such as here in Maine) having to go without fuel to warm their homes. The oil industry, with help from our rich, oil-loving, war-starting politicians, rapes this country on a regular basis and no one blinks an eye. 

Government-sanctioned terrorism results in far more pain, suffering, and death than all of that caused by foreign initiated acts of terrorism. And most of these terrorists wear suits and drive a Lexus. And, yes....get reelected. 

Perspective...

Gee....I notice that it’s been quite a while since posting a whine or even a pseudo-serious expression of sentimentality and reflection. When I look back over the last several months, it occurs to me that life hasn’t felt particularly funny. With a backdrop of managing life through bothersome physical ailments and recurring worries about the repercussions of both life and death, there have been losses of various sizes that tend to give perspective on that backdrop....that life is as it is and that all that weighs on me is nothing more than the consequence of the gift of my life itself. It’s that whole yin-yang thing. I can only write my whine because I am alive...and having just enjoyed a hot breakfast of eggs which I can share with my wonderful dogs.

Oh, there’s always money stuff, things to do, piles to sort, attic and garage to purge, cold weather fatigue, etc. etc. More importantly are worries about my dogs’ health, expensive house projects on the horizon, and the annoyances of short-term relationships that end with the disappointing revelations that some people just aren’t who they claim to be. There is the end of a long-standing connection with a professional organization that has proven to be nothing more than an internet date with someone who posted ten year-old photos. It’s the whole illusion thing I wrote about earlier ...there one moment, gone the next. These endings can be dealt with my slowly and painfully letting go. 

But life does stand still when I experience the deaths of two friends in just over a week’s time. Both of these passings were pretty much expected but, as you know, they still always come as a shock. These humans, with whom I talked and laughed and walked and ate and felt! have disappeared from the face of the earth. It always seems so surreal. When my father died, I could only get an evening flight, so I went to work at Salem Hospital as usual. My boss said “What are you doing here?!?” I just said “Where else should I be?” When she asked how I was doing, the first thought that came to mind was, “I keep wondering where he is.” That feeling after someone you know dies is, for me, the most revealing evidence that there has to be something after life. There is an essence that cannot possibly die with the body. I know it. To best understand what I mean, find and read Wordsworth’s “Ode on Intimations of Immortality.” While I am a Christian, this poem best captures my beliefs about life and death. 

I do ramble and digress. All I can say is that...and this could sound trite...losing these friends does make my life and it’s travails of various sizes seem unimportant and minor compared to what these friends went through on their journeys to another land and what their closer loved ones must endure with even bigger, gaping holes in their lives. And I can say that I do and will miss them both.

In short....Sandy....a dog-owner and walking friend. We told stories, we laughed at our dogs, we played tennis, we shared dinner, we talked life. I walked with him a few short months ago before his health began to decline. He was a smart, caring, interesting man and I know that many stories about Sandy and his life will live on with his family and friends. And just last week, the world lost Jeanne...my old friend Anne’s partner of over 24 years. Denied the opportunity for so many years, they had planned to marry later this year. Jeanne knitted me a scarf and an afghan. On my several visits to their beautiful home in North Carolina, Anne and Jeanne treated me like family. I loved Jeanne’s cynical, sardonic wit...much like my own. I remember lying on their floor snipping hair knots from one of their cats’ fur. I remember Jeanne leaving after dinner to get a McDonald’s coffee because “it’s just better.” (Having a cigarette, Jeanne? We’ll never know!)

Let’s just face it. With all the fluffy, reassuring verbiage, it’s just awful. It’s terrible. I walk through my day right now knowing they’re gone. As with the losses of my parents and all my wonderful dogs, there’s a hole in the universe without them. My life...getting to work, walking my dogs, cleaning my kitchen, making my risotto, ironing my sheets (NOT!)...I get to do these things and they don’t. I’m sorry, Sandy and Jeanne, I truly am. Deeply. But know that we loved you and you made an impact on people and the world that will not be forgotten.

Now...I have to go deal with finding socks to match my sweater. Oh my oh my.