Questioning Reality

Daily writing prompt
What’s a moment that made you question reality?

A moment that made me question reality? There never was such a moment in my life, nothing like seeing someone out of time or out of place, seeing an alien or ghosts, finding gaps in my personal timeline. Nothing fun or lighthearted like that. But there are a couple of current events with historical overlays that are seriously making me question reality.

I’ve been reading a novel based in occupied France during World War II, and of course, there’s the whole story of antisemitism and concentration camps. That’s normal for such a book since those things happened back then. They are part of the story.

Then I take a break, go online and read about the growing antisemitism in this country. Even more horrific is that two candidates in Texas are using as their platform the promise of concentration camps for Jews. What the heck?? I thought we’d finished with that, though sadly, with the increasing population of Muslims and Islamism galloping across the country, it sort of makes sense that they would be selling the idea. But no one has to buy it. Jews are more a part of this country than Islamists. Hello? Judeo-Christian tradition anyone?

As if that’s not bad enough, I’ve been reading about the origin of the marines, and especially their hymn. I’d always thought “From the halls of Montezuma to the shores of Tripoli” was just a poetic way of saying “From sea to shining sea.” But no. Those were two battles fought by the marines. During the Mexican-American war in 1895, the Marines seized the Chapultepec Castle, aka the Halls of Montezuma.

And the shores of Tripoli? In the 18th century, Muslim pirates from the Barbary Coast (The North African Islamic nations of Tripoli, Tunis, Morocco, and Algiers) attacked ships in the Mediterranean, ransoming them for huge amounts of money as well as demanding bribes for letting ships use international waters. It had been the practice for countries simply to pay the extortionists to appease them. In fact, the newly formed USA had been paying over 20% of its revenue to the Muslims, but when pirates upped their demands, Thomas Jefferson refused to pay. So in 1801, the Pasha, who believed that all nations who would not acknowledge Islamic authority were sinners and that it was his right and duty to make war upon them wherever they could be found, declared war on the USA. That was the first Barbary war. The second came fifteen years later.

And now? Really? Another Barbary war? It’s not called that, of course, but what we have is another Islamic nation of pirates extorting “tolls” from ships in international waters. Or they’re trying to, anyway.

This isn’t about the truth or even what you or I believe. It’s about the unreality of what’s going on today.

Antisemitism and concentration camps?

Islamic pirates?

Really? Really?

It’s as if age-old evils are bubbling to the surface of reality like marsh gas. Or maybe we’re stuck in a time loop of forever wars. Or . . . who knows. All I know is sometimes it feels as if none of this is real. And for sure, it does make me question reality.

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One

The Venerable Vegetable

Daily writing prompt
What’s a word or phrase that annoys you?

There used to be many words and phrases that annoyed me, constructions such as “110%” and “intestinal fortitude,” but those instances seem so innocuous now that other words have begun to be used half to death (to the death of the word, that is), words like fascist and nazi and racist and whatever happens to be the phobe of the day.

I don’t know if I’m getting used to words that are so overused that they’ve become meaningless or if I’m less critical or . . . who knows. All I know is that there are now fewer words that irk me. And yet there is one word that I will never, ever use. Will never, ever hear without my teeth gritting or feeling the word scrape down my back like some unseen claw.

I can avoid other words, even the most hateful and prevalent, because people I’m around in real life don’t use them, and if I’m reading the words online, I can quickly skim past them before they sneak in under my skin.

But there is that one word, a word I can barely manage to even type, so I’ll close my eyes and hope I get it right. “Veggies.” There. I did it. Whew! The very sight, the very sound of that mawkish word gags me, but it is now universal. It’s as if no one knows how to say or write or spell the word “vegetables” anymore. I mean that literally. I am the only person I know who says “vegetables.” I can understand urging small children to eat their “veggies,” but when said by an adult to an adult, it seems . . . disrespectful.

Are vegetables really that onerous that they need an infantile nickname? Are we in such a hurry that we can’t manage to say the whole of the venerable “vegetable?” And it is a venerable word. It comes from the Medieval Latin word vegetabilis, meaning “growing, flourishing, or full of life.” It was used from the Middle Ages on to denote all plants, not just edible ones, because plants are capable of life and growth as opposed to inert minerals.

And so what do we have today instead of life and growth and vigor? The cringeworthy “veggies,” which means absolutely nothing.

I realize I am one of the few purists left when it comes to words. Oh, I know the argument, that language is ever evolving, and I understand that. I would just prefer that it evolved around other words I don’t have to hear every day even from people I like.

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One

World Domination

Well, this is an interesting — and utterly amusing — turn of events. WordPress, the company that hosts this blog, seems to have started listing blog achievements. It’s not public, only I can see my badges of achievements (unless, of course, I take a screen shot as I did below). As you can see, I have been awarded a badge, just an electronic image, but still . . . World Domination!!

Yay!! Unfortunately, this achievement really doesn’t mean world domination, which is just as well. I have no idea what I would do as a world dominatrix, nor do I have any idea why I would want to do any of those things even if I did have an idea of what I wanted to do.

Still, it’s cool (and a bit intimidating) to know that people from over one hundred and fifty countries have visited this blog. (It’s more like one hundred and ninety, but who’s counting. Actually, WordPress is counting. And so am I, apparently.)  And it’s nice to have official confirmation that the world is paying attention. I’ve posted before about all the countries that have visited, and you can see the list from 2020 if you click here: Who Visits My Blog. Back then, out of a total of perhaps 195 countries in the world (plus the Vatican), only six countries had not put in an appearance. I checked my latest stats, and it appears those six countries are still the only holdouts, so if you know anyone who lives in Svalbard, Turkmenistan, Western Sahara, Guinea-Bissau, Chad, or Central African Republic, please send them this link!

What an amazing thing the internet is. Who knew that some aging woman sitting alone at a computer in a tiny little house in a tiny little town in the corner of a middling state could have made an impression on all those people from all those places. Modesty (and truth) forces me to admit that it’s possible I didn’t make any impression since the visits were could be some wayward algorithms out touring the world, but still, you’re here, so I made an impression on someone.

Thank you for helping me reach world domination!

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One

 

Erasing Movies

Daily writing prompt
If you could erase one movie from your memory and watch it again for the first time, which one would it be?

I found this blog prompt amusing because except for a few movies that I’ve seen multiple times, such as “Let it Ride” and “The Princess Bride,” I’ve pretty much erased every movie I’ve ever seen from memory, so seeing any of them again would be seeing them for the first time. I didn’t purposely erase them, you understand. Life did. Time did. In fact, the only titles I remember are the two listed above.

When Jeff and I first moved to an area where the only television programming we could get was through cable, we decided to splurge and sign up for a premium movie package. Back then, when such channels were new, we had forty to fifty new movies to watch every month. As time went on, and more channels were created and more deals made, the new offerings became less and less until there were only a handful of new movies to watch each month. So we watched a lot of movies over and over again.

Before then, I’d seldom gone to the movies because I preferred to read since I could set my own pace, and I never even owned a television until Jeff and I got together, so movie watching was new to me. I think we watched just about every movie ever made until . . . hmm. I don’t remember until when.

I could watch movies if I wanted — I have hundreds of movies that Jeff had collected and although I never use it, I do have a television. Unfortunately, movie-watching doesn’t have the same effect when you watch them alone as they do when you watch them with someone who has the same level of appreciation. Besides, I seem to have erased the idea of movie watching from memory as well as the movies themselves. Despite the television’s blank eye staring at me, I never even consider watching a movie.

Perhaps someday I will watch some of those collected movies again, but until then, the movie erasure continues, so that when I do watch them, they will be new.

Not that it matters if I do remember. I like knowing ahead of time what is happening — I’m past the stage in my life where nail-biting tension has any allure. I like seeing the action, like knowing as it is happening what the characters will be facing before they do since it adds an extra level of participation. Oddly, I don’t like either in my life — not tension, and certainly not knowing the future, which if known, would probably bring with it a whole lot of tension.

So I guess, to answer the question: there isn’t any specific movie I would like to see again for the first time. As of right now, there isn’t any movie I want to see at all.

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One

A Quiet Feeling of Contentment

Daily writing prompt
What’s a simple pleasure in life that brings you joy?

I looked up the meaning of joy because I was curious if my personal meaning matched the prevalent meaning, and it appears to be the same. To me, joy is an intense feeling, a kinetic emotion of delight and elation and even jubilation. I call it a kinetic emotion because it seems to be one of movement, an uplifting rather than a more static feeling of perhaps contentment or satisfaction.

Nothing anymore gives me that kinetic feeling of joy, nor does much of anything make me feel the lowering kinetic emotions such as anger and angst and outrage. I’m usually balanced somewhere in the middle rather than clinging to a vastly swinging emotional pendulum, which is how I like it.

There are many simple activities that bring me satisfaction, that take me out of myself and absorb my attention. I used to go to the library all the time, but I’ve taken against that simple pleasure, and so I find other things to do rather than spend all my time reading. Daily blogging, obviously, is one thing that takes up time once dedicated to reading. (I say obviously because . . . here I am!)

I’ve also bought a bunch of pencil puzzles books, a deal since they are outdated magazines, but that’s certainly not a problem since they’re all new to me. There are plenty of different kind of puzzles to keep my mind active, and I tend to think doing puzzles is better for mental stimulation than reading is.

Another activity I’m getting back into is paint-by-number. I used to get a kit occasionally when I was a child, and always enjoyed them, but then they disappeared for decades. My sister sent me a couple of kits for Christmas a few years ago, and that got me started again. They make me feel as if I am actually painting when all I am doing is coloring with paints, but filling in all those shapes satisfies something in me — my sense of order, perhaps.

Doing puzzles seems to be replacing reading, though I do read the books I have in the house especially when I eat. (I can’t seem to develop the habit of sitting down at a table by myself to eat. I know it’s supposed to be better for me, but it seems too bizarre and maybe too earthy to do nothing but concentrate on eating, which leads me to believe I don’t really like to eat.) And doing paint-by-number seems to be replacing computer games, though I still check in with a hidden object game most days.

And, of course, there is gardening. How could I have forgotten that, especially since I just came in from watering my plants and picking a few weeds.

Doing simple things gives my life a sense of balance, peace, and sometimes satisfaction, though the satisfaction doesn’t come from the doing so much as the having done. Seeing a picture come to life, finishing a puzzle book and starting a new one, seeing flowers growing in my yard and basking in the greenness all give me something better than joy. They give me a quiet feeling of contentment.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One

Dealing With Life

It seems as if I’ve been doing a lot of blogging lately about my ideal life, though sometimes it was only because those blog prompts came up and I felt as if I had something to say. Other times it was because that particular day did feel ideal. It’s made me wonder, though, if I sounded smug with all that “ideal life” talk. For those of you who have been with me all through my years of grief over Jeff, over the loss of my father and my older brother, the loss of whatever stability I’d found, you know that my current ideal life has been hard won. The posts are more about gratitude for finding a safe haven than about congratulating myself on winning the “life” lottery.

I also know, as do you, how quickly life can change. One day one is the midst of the most terrible angst imaginable, and the next day one is okay. Well, not the next day, though from my perspective today, it can feel like it. But I have thousands of blog posts archived under the heading “grief posts” to show the truth of how many days separated the days of angst from these days of peace.

These “ideal life” posts are strictly about today. I hope no matter what traumas descend on me in the future, these days of gratitude and peace will help give me the courage to face what might come. I can hope, of course, for many years of this “ideal life,” but life tends not to take our hopes into consideration. Though who knows — some people believe we create our own reality, so perhaps these “ideal life” posts are helping create a future that is as easy as my life is today.

It is funny, though, that I am going through a time of relative freedom from body malfunctions and pain. There have been episodes over the past few years of knee problems, piriformis muscle and tendon issues, and various other trivialities (considering the life/death spectrum). I’ve managed to find a way to handle whatever has come my way, and currently there is a weird bout of catarrh that comes and goes, probably due to allergies, but for the most part, there are no malfunctions for me to deal with. That will change, too, but again, I am grateful for these days of ease (as opposed to dis-ease). And in fact, they should be celebrated despite any hint of what could be conceived as smugness.

Do I “deserve” these days? Who knows. Does anyone “deserve” anything that happens to them? Life is just . . . life. We deal with the good as well as the bad, though to be honest, the good is a whole heck of a lot easier to deal with!

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One

Learning Something New

Daily writing prompt
How do you stay motivated when learning something new?

This must be a question for people who are forced to learn things they don’t want to, such as for school or work or new technology, because otherwise it makes no sense. At least not for me. Learning something new has always been its own motivation. Now that I think about it, learning something new seems as if it is sort of the point of life. If we never learn anything new, where would we be? Lolling around in oversized cribs, I imagine, crying from sheer boredom.

The joy of learning is written in our genes. That’s obvious if you’ve ever watched babies, newly sprung from their playpens, crawling all over, learning new things, trying to pull themselves up. And oh, that grin of sheer pride and joy when they manage that first step. They didn’t need to stay motivated, the learning itself was the goal, though encouragement from their parents never hurt. Obviously, there are some things babies need to learn that perhaps they don’t want to, such as using the potty or not touching the pretty fire, but for the most part, babies learn because they want to. Because to them, learning is playing, and playing is learning.

There is an old quote: we don’t stop playing because we grow old, we grow old because we stop playing. I never liked that quote because it’s too specious, too simplistic, too out of touch with reality. Look at professional athletes. They have to stop playing because they get too old to be able to compete with younger players, not the other way around.

Now, if I were to substitute “learning” for playing, then that quote makes sense, though again, it doesn’t always hold true. Often the elderly can no longer learn because of growing cognitive issues, but still, I tend to think curiosity (and boredom) does motivate people of any age to learn new things. Besides, whether we want to or not, we have to continue learning as we age if only to learn how to do things we once did with ease but that now seem complicated, like opening jars or bending to pick something up. For sure we have to learn how to be mindful or else a reckless step can lead to disaster.

Since writing this has convinced me of the importance of learning — with or without a need for motivation — I’m sitting here trying to think what I’ve recently learned, but I can’t really think of anything. At least nothing fun. I learned a lot of fun things in the past decade — dancing, camping, buying a house, taking care of a house, the tarot, landscaping, gardening — but not so much today except for small things I learn while reading or gardening or doing puzzles. The only specific thing I can think of is that I am learning more of the history of the middle east than I ever cared to know. I never did understand anything of their history or who they were or why they did what they did — it was simply too confusing, uninteresting, and of no particular value to my life, but now I’m seeing a much broader picture, one that dates back almost to the first days of civilization, but specifically back to the 7th century. Is it important to know the history? Only if I want to know the historical reasons for a lot of today’s events, which I don’t, not really. But it is learning, so that’s good.

What I need is to find something new to learn. Something I want to learn just for the fun of learning, something I don’t have to worry about motivating myself to learn. Though what that might be, I don’t know, because if I did know, I’d already be learning it.

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One

Perfect Summer Day

It feels like summer, not the summer of adulthood when the sun glares and the heat burns and only air-conditioning makes it livable, but the fabled summer of childhood, when each day felt perfect. At least that’s the way we often remember our youthful summers, regardless of the truth.

Summer is still five weeks away, and so is the stultifying heat, but right now, the days feel lazy and warm, with bumblebees buzzing among the flowers, birds digging in the grass for their breakfast. Usually at this time of year, spring winds are almost constant and can be fierce, but they are currently absent. The air is still and soft and falls lightly on my skin. Even the lush blooms speak of an ideal summer, though around here, only a few flowers can keep from being seared by the intense July and August sun.

I tend to think that the mild winter coupled with a warm late winter/early spring helps to make this feel like summer because plants are further along this year than normal, and they are flowering longer. The columbines have been flowering for six weeks! And the larkspur have been flowering almost that long. This long-blooming period gives such a timeless feel to the days, which to me is a summer feeling. (Spring, with the winds and the hurried flowers and the rapid changes, often seems frenetic.)

Also, the temperatures are in the nineties, which in a lot of places, are summer temperatures, but around here, that’s almost cool for summer.

I’m making sure to remember these halcyon days (and if not in my mind, then here, on this blog), because once summer is here for real, all bets are off. And yet, in the past when we’ve had early summer weather, the actual summer months could be cool if the monsoons came. And there is a chance of a wet monsoon season because of predictions for a strong El Nino later this year.

But that’s all mights and maybes. All I know is that right now it feels like a perfect summer day. So what if it’s only May? It’s the feeling (and the feeling of gratitude that comes with it) that counts.

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One

 

Books and Surprises

Daily writing prompt
What’s a book that completely surprised you?

I can’t say that any book completely surprised me, though some books have surprised me, in both good and bad ways.

I am currently rereading Noel Barber’s novels. I finished Tanamera and am now on Sakkhara. Neither should have surprised me since I’d read them before, but they did surprise me, though I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.

I’ve always thought of Tanamera as a Malaysian Gone with the Wind, and Sakkhara as an Egyptian one, though to be honest, I never paid much attention to the romances that thread through the stories. To me, both of those books are about the exotic locations — Singapore and Cairo in the 1930s and 40s — and about the war experiences in those places as well as their problems with being British colonies. In both books, a British family is friends with a native family, and it’s through the relationship between those two families that the conflicts are filtered, and where the real story lies. What I especially like about the books is seeing World War II from a different perspective. Barber was a British war correspondent, so he tells the stories both from the British point of view as well as the location’s point of view. For example, the main war in Singapore and Malaya (as it was known then) was with the Japanese. And originally, the main war in Egypt was with the Italians before the Germans came.

All that is good, and what I remembered. What I didn’t remember — and why it came as a surprise — is that the romance is basically the same in both books and is rather boring: a love triangle (or maybe quadrangle) between the two families as well as an outsider that one of the brothers got pregnant and had to marry rather the woman he loved.

Not a problem, really. It’s no worse than most secondary romantic plots, though I found myself surprisingly on the side of the other brother. Though the first brother (the sort of hero) married not for love but because of his indiscretion, most things worked out for him. And in the end, so did the romance. While the other brother in both stories lost everything. (Makes me wonder if Barber had problems with his brother.)

Next on my list is Farewell to France, basically the same story as the other two, though — obviously — in France (in the Champagne district), and the hero is of American descent, not British. I don’t remember the romance part, though I would be willing to bet it too is the same.

Even though I found it surprising that I was so underwhelmed by the romance aspect and was surprised that the books told the same story, I still like them. It really is interesting seeing basically the same story told in three different countries showing three different perspectives of what truly was a world war.

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One

Exercise Routine

Daily writing prompt
How can you build a regular fitness routine?

When I was in my twenties and wanted to start running, I asked my brother, a track star, for advice. He told me to run a block every day. No more than that. No less than that. Then gradually increase distance. I followed his advice, and within a couple of months, I was regularly running a mile a day. I did that for years, and then one day, for some reason, I forgot to run. And gradually, the “forgetting” became more prevalent. Also, my work hours changed and my early morning running time disappeared.

Over the years, I tried to get back into running, always starting with that one block a day regimen, and it always worked. What didn’t, was me. Things always happened to change my routine, and if I wasn’t in the groove, the habit disappeared. Amazing — when you try to break a bad habit, it takes forever. When you inadvertently break a good habit, it takes a single day.

Long after I stopped being able to run, I used to dream of running. I loved that effortless feel of almost flying along those dreamscapes, though waking to the realization that I could barely plod along was painful. Luckily, those dreams eventually stopped.

I did various other exercise routines over the years. Jeff helped me with weightlifting, and as with running, the advice was to start light and then gradually increase. After he died and my weights were packed away in a storage unit, I took up other forms of exercise. Mostly hiking. Stretching. Yoga. Dance classes.

I set up my weights when I moved to my house, but I worried too much about damaging my fake elbow, and I didn’t want to one-sided weight lifting, so that exercise, too, disappeared. Pretty much all I do every day anymore is a stretching routine that keeps me relatively limber and at least gives me the illusion that I am exercising. Now that spring and gardening weather is here, I don’t worry about other forms of exercise — I get plenty of movement outside taking care of my yard. Or so I tell myself.

Oops. This post was supposed to be about building a regular fitness routine, and I’ve mostly been mentioning how to destroy a regular fitness routine.

For what it’s worth, the best way to do anything physical is to do what both my brother and Jeff suggested — start small and build up.

Writing this almost makes me want to go out and do some sort of exercise. The relevant word being “almost.” Though if I could go back to dance class, I’d do that in a heartbeat!

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One