Category Archives: Family

How I Survived March

Posted on by
2

DCIM100GOPRO
People who know me are keenly aware that I have a foul attitude about the month of March. In Chicago, particularly with the brutally cold and heavy snowfall winter season, the need to maintain a survival mentality will not be over for a while longer.

My mother used to say, “March, in like a lion, out like a lamb.” Well, I’d just as soon run from a lion like I were the lamb because I have known nasty snow storms even come in April at times, and local gardeners are advised to not sow seeds nor leave potted plants outside until mid-May, when night time freezes are no longer a threat. However, now that it is April, I am optimistic that I see no more snow in the forecast, and I would be content to have had my last fill of it last weekend when I took my sons and our nephew, who was visiting from Amman, up to our favorite healing place and sanctuary at Devil’s Lake in Baraboo, Wisconsin.

This past March though, instead of belly aching and waiting impatiently for the weather to clear enough to resume outdoor activities and to see the sun shine again, my strategy was to be so busy that I would not have time to think about my pasty and chapped skin, the evidence of using hot showers to remedy the chills. I also connived to use a hair dryer set to the hottest option a few times to relieve acute episodes of brrrr.

Not to think that I am a wimp, we’ve had to deal with a malfunctioning furnace, a broken water main, some seepage in the basement from a sudden thaw, and I’d swear that when I turned on the faucet in the morning, the water had to be just 34 degrees. Additionally, the first week of implementing my keep-so-busy plan rewarded me with getting a bit sick; but I must have burned out the germs and bounced back as healthy as ever. Even my doctor said she had no worries about me when I passed my annual physical.

What was I busy with all month? Numerous initiatives as an administrator of a small college, I’ve worked to resurrect it from a series of technological mishaps that derailed enrollment for roughly 5 months. This entailed drafting policies, reviewing procedures, attacking marketing and out reach across a spectrum of media and events, writing blogs and website content, and working through various channels to resolve whatever may have caused the tail spin. Populating a new website template with content entails a large amount of time, analysis, and revisions. However, when it was nearly done, we chose to cancel our developer, temporarily put the old site back online, and will create a new one that gives us more editing control and less cost in the end.

Working with this college has been like being in an airborne plane with engines stalled. We’ve reduced hours, staff, and services like we are throwing ballast overboard, and now I stepped back my own hours to only work social media and events as a skeleton staff coaxes enrollment back up while all the marketing efforts are fully kicking into gear and admissions appointments are coming back in quantity. We’ll see in one month where we are, and then determine my roles.

It has been quite some time since I’d been on a school review team with AdvancEd, and I accepted a special invitation to evaluate a charter school in Chicago’s north side. I found it to be a successful model after some initial skepticism. From my experience at an Islamic school, I’ve seen board members who come with a corporate mindset. They think they can leverage the usual extrinsic rewards as incentives or use the restriction of them as motivators. What they had not seemed to realize is that schools are not quite like corporations, they are communities whereby stakeholders’ relationships and opportunity for growth and development are the real catalysts for action and retention. This makes the best effort come from people in corporate environs as well.

Instead of finding the corporate umbrella entity to be solely interested in profit, as I’d expected, I came to appreciate the advantages that it could bring to optimally scale so that supporting personnel could be shared among schools and grants could be secured to provide more working capital for all those schools under the parent organization. The overall design worked quite well, and I was impressed by the professionalism of all. As usual, students who “own” their education performed with decent progress, and these students—chosen by non-selective lottery—valued their seats. Some students had to take public transportation, and they would leave for school 1 ½ hours earlier just to attend. It was a tiring 2 day visit, but great to see.

Directly afterward, I went to emcee an event for my friends at Crescent Foods, many of whom also work with me for the American Halal Association. It was a warm hearted celebration of the individuals and their supportive families who have made Crescent Foods one of the fastest growing Halal brands in America. I’m looking forward to seeing more progress from the excellent people who work there.

March is also the month that the Muslim Women’s Alliance (MWA) hosts a luncheon to inspire, network, and celebrate women who have contributed in many ways. Philanthropy takes a variety of forms, and I am genuinely touched to see many faces of people I love and admire when we come together. This event brings teachers, community workers, entrepreneurs, and women who represent a range of professional services, as well as students and grandmothers. It acknowledges the reality of the power of giving, in whatever capacity, and the feeling of being with such “angels” is always savored.

The night of the MWA luncheon had my husband and I slated to see the musical version of “Young Frankenstein.” My father, who chose to not use his tickets, offered them to us. Typically, my husband is not a fan of musicals, unless it’s Yul Brenner in “The King and I” (I think he fanaticizes that he is the King of Siam), but the humor and pleasant melodies delivered much sought after stress relief in mid-month. The break from routine and cheap (free) tickets helped us enjoy it even more!

With our artistic and comedy cup filled, I finally made it to one of Elmhurst College’s Speaker Series sessions. How I’d wanted to see, but missed, Bill Nye earlier in the season. Zareena Grewal tickled intellectual neurons as she brilliantly interpreted for a mostly elderly Caucasian audience how several news items about Muslims were framed into perceptions that were perhaps not quite accurate, or were interpreted differently by Muslims versus the mainstream. I appreciated the historic overview and even knew some of the persons she wrote about in her book, “Islam is a Foreign Country: American Muslims and the Global Crisis of Authority. She is doing a valuable service as a liaison to help people understand more than one—often media fabricated—interpretation of events.

A few days after that, my darling daughter booked us for a massive promotional event at Nordstrom where we received a bag of samples and had our makeup professionally done prior to my niece’s bridal shower that was held at a friend’s home that afternoon. I’ve not been to very many bridal showers, but this was intimate, comfortable, and absolutely fun! I’m at the stage in life where I can be the sedate auntie, but I was snookered into a party game whereby a tissue box was sashed to my derriere, and I had to “twerk” ping pong balls out of the box before the rest of the competitors. Needless to say, I hope the video never surfaces!

The month wrapped up with my husband flying to Amman to attend a family wedding, connect with clients for our export business, and to remedy some eye and dental issues at bargain rates. It is wonderful that he can enjoy his family, for their meetings are few. I hope to be able to go the next time; but with last weekend being the only overlap between my 3 college kids and 1 high school student’s Spring Break, I took 2 sons and our nephew—a dentist from Amman—on an excursion to Devil’s Lake.

Over the years, I’ve seen the lake flooded, low, and just about normal. This place has the only 500’ bluffs and decent hiking trails east of the Mississippi River without having to go as far as the Appalachians. I’ve been there for over 33 years in all seasons except winter; but this time the 1 mile lake was frozen, and there was still slick ice on the trails. Yet, we had a blast, and those of you who know me will find the album of our adventure on Facebook hopefully within a couple more days. Our nephew brought a new toy—a GoPro—that captured the most amazing wide-angle, polarized still shots and videos. He used a telescoping pole so that all 4 of us were in the selfies. My shots were conventional, whereby I’m behind the camera, so I’m grateful that he left a copy of his work on my laptop for me to share before he left yesterday headed for Amman via Turkey.

And mentioning Turkey, in a couple weeks my daughter and I plan to attend the NAPEC Chicago conference where we hope to network with several B-school entrepreneurial students, Turkish investors, and CEOs. I’m always seeking new export opportunities and the reality of my daughter going to Turkey to teach English and do NGO work after graduation is starting to dawn on us. It’s time to start learning a little of the language, but meanwhile, we enjoy picking up some sign language from watching “Switched at Birth.” It is useful for one of her majors in Speech Language Pathology.

Several college fairs and promotional events are scheduled for the college this month, and I will be missing the ISNA Education Forum for the first time in 10 years. Yet, I plan to attend the Saturday night banquet with my husband—if he survives jet lag—and we hope to see dear friends. I miss the team, but chose to respect the sense that it was time to try something different, and not volunteer so much at the expense of actually producing income. Did I listen to my own advice? Partly; I do volunteer time for the college and the American Halal Association, but at least I get paid for some of my work for the college, and a 1500 word article on the New Economy to be published in the May/June issue of Islamic Horizons. Finally, I’ve bartered services for the first Islamic Finance conference in Chicago this June, and for a unique coaching course that I am very excited to participate in.

My strategy to be super busy through March has paid off, but I still have a back log of reading to do. This I hope to work on as the kids get back to their studies, and while the biking trails and golf courses dry up from the thaw and the April showers. It’s always something, but there are wonderful days to look forward to and old friends to catch up with.
–Hope this video of our departure from Devil’s Lake kicks out winter and drives springtime toward us faster!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J5LYEdDOkZw

 

Realities

Posted on by
3

2014-02-01_09-39-19_491

Saturday morning, and I’m greeted with more snow and the promise of extreme sub-zero, (i.e., Fahrenheit) bitter cold on its way. This is my life, six people—four offspring—living together, and my husband and I shovel for them! We ditch the patio table in the garage and push the chairs in a row, as you see, to fit four vehicles on the driveway so that we can reverse without having to move another car for one to exit. Crowded, but we save the collective group money by staying together while the majority of them are in college.

It’s that time of year when we pine for springtime’s fresh air, smell of thawing soil, and the twitter of birds. Along with that comes emergence of preliminary flowers, like crocus that foretell the arrival of hyacinth, tulips, and daffodils. But we are not there yet, so I placate myself with photos of gardens I have visited, coffee table picture books for gardeners from the library, and I thoroughly examine the photos in seed catalogs, from which I no longer buy. The one year I invested in some catalog seeds, I traveled overseas with my kids and found someone—you know who you are—had not watered the garden.

Since moving into this house about eighteen years ago, I’d imagined my spacious property would evolve to parallel Monet’s Garden at Giverny. Alas, it has not because little did I realize at the time, my yard has too much shade in summer to adequately support many of the flora I desire. However, I do have trees. Beautiful, towering, strong, and like my kids, leave a huge mess of leaves and broken branches that we incessantly clean off the crop of weeds we call a lawn, over one-third of an acre.

Life sometimes isn’t what you bargained for, but I suppose we have to find the good in things and work within our minds to cope and look forward to the next chapter. Maybe the trials and waiting periods we endure are meant to bring us closer to our Creator and each other. I do know that this morning, after writing the draft of this piece, we admired with amusement the many squirrels that scamper in erratic patterns throughout our wonderland of surrounding trees, as the snow lazily cascaded in billowy flakes, adding to the pile that blocks exit from the drive to the street.

Going back to work has brought another adjustment for my family, who had become blissfully accustomed to my availability and practice of the domestic arts. The location of my new place of employment puts me within fifteen minutes of visiting my father, who continues to progress in his ability to walk and balance. He is still using the walker, but again I am expecting him to upgrade to using a cane. I know he sees himself holding a golf club again, even if only to imagine himself a lion overlooking a fairway…from the 19th hole with his buddies. I also know that he misses his winter crew that goes to the indoor range and then meets for coffee and cookies at McDonald’s.

The power of our imagination is a gift, but it has in its capacity the potential to remove us so far from reality that it can become a liability. Someone recommended the film “Her” to my husband, and we went to see it. It’s about an affable fellow who is struggling within himself about his impending divorce from a neurotic wife who has blamed him, undeservedly, for things. The story takes place in LA in the not-so-distant future when everyone is thoroughly connected to technology, and that they unwittingly separate from real human connections and result in a type of anomie (Originated by Emile Durkeim and evolved to Strain Theory most recently by Zhang Jie). This portrays a society where although a populous place, it still leaves souls very lonely. The protagonist becomes enamored by a virtual reality prompted by purchase of an artificial intelligent operating system. It is like Apple’s Siri on steroids where the “personality” of the system becomes the seemingly perfect companion, except that “she” is not real. It makes a strong statement and a warning to us.

As I do have many residents in my household, I see the ubiquitous technology keeps us entertained, connected to people outside our home, and can easily inhibit us from conversing, sharing, and connecting with each other. It seems like the only bonding we do is when we watch a video or show together, or if we completely leave the home—spend money—and do something outside. Normally, the walk or bike ride would suffice, but in this season the options have a higher price tag. The least would be going to a restaurant or to chat over a cup of coffee. A family vacation would be ideal, but just not feasible now; and it won’t be when spring break rolls around, the kids buzz out to hang with friends, and we stay home to clean and pickup sticks in the yard. Then we may expectantly look for crocus along the edge of the driveway and whack a tennis ball with a real person on the other side of the court.

…Meanwhile, we’ll invite them to bond with us as we cheer the Broncos!

Nips & Glugs

Posted on by
1

2014-01-04_15-51-02_752
Nips & Glugs
Long time since my last post; and this update is just a sampling of “this n’ that”, which is why it’s titled Nips n’ Glugs. For the first nip, winter stunts outdoor recreation, and it reminds me of the story of Persephone. This mythological character was one of my favorites as a child, and although I may better resemble her mother Demeter, strongly identified as Mother Nature, the blithe image of Persephone is who I fantasize to be. If you are unfamiliar with the tale, Persephone was youthful, feminine, and beautiful. One day though, she happened to eat six seeds from a pomegranate and was abducted by Hades, the god of the Underworld, who captured her and made her his wife. Because of this, Persephone stays with him for a time each year, and Demeter in her grief covers the land with a blanket of white until her daughter’s spirited return when Demeter celebrates her arrival with the graces of spring. But while it is not spring yet, I try to endure the long stretch from December until nearly April when I can once again revel in the outdoors without suffering from the elements that restrict my favorite sports.

Today, I am exhilarated to have done a little cross country skiing—alone in a local park—before being pummeled by the next blast of super cold. Expecting a high temperature for the day of -12 on Monday, I was pleased when finally my youngest son acquiesced to shop for a winter coat…on sale. God bless my kids, for doing all they can to keep costs low in some areas like textbooks and shopping clearance sales.

Skiing brought a burst of energy unexpected. The folks at the post office were chatting and informed me that this is the most snow we’ve had in 20 years, and it is reminiscent of the snows of my childhood, though that was more than 2x twenty years. Upon my return from trail blazing and working up a sweat, I tidied up the breakfast dishes— left behind leftovers for my sleepy gang—did some laundry, and made pickled turnips with beets that dye the concoction a lovely magenta color. One can’t underestimate the value of their probiotics. Soon I aspire to make a homemade giardiniera with cauliflower, celery, garlic, jalapeno pepper, and carrots, an exquisite condiment to many dishes. For you see, while believing in hibernating as much as possible in winter, I also succumb to my instinct to eat well.

As I trade apples, salads and spinach-protein shakes for heavier fare and dessert (eating caramel gourmet popcorn from my sister now) in this season, I have coined the term “winter body.” Provided I stay within about 5 pounds, I’m going to enjoy the holiday trimmings and indulge. Strong faith in the “set point” and years of knowing that I just have to contend with “winter skin,” allay stress. For the first time I am treating dry limbs with grape seed oil after the shower. My only hesitation is that I recently thought about what happens to all grapes…eventually. Well, can’t win either way!

Some days just make one feel strong, and this is mine. After skiing, I went with my daughter to the gym. The glute buster program on the stepper machine was a breeze, and I lifted like Wonder Woman. Examining callouses on the joints adjacent to my palms, I feel younger and optimistic.

Getting my driver’s license renewed recently brought a certain excitement, like getting it for the first time. Along with the fee, I had to take a vision test to be recertified. Mind you that I’ve had slight myopia for about 30 years, and I did tell the middle-aged lady behind the counter that some days my vision is better and some days a bit worse. That particular day was not my best, buy somehow even though I stated that the last letter in the second set was “a C, or maybe it’s a D.” And for the last letter of the third set, “Ugh…I think it’s an O, but it could be a C.” She said brightly, “You passed! You don’t need your glasses to drive!” I thought she was insane, but I was grateful for deleting the restriction I’ve held like a bit of shame on my license for so long. Now, I keep my glasses with me and usually wear them; but on a clear vision day, I drive around my town with no problem without their glare. Hopefully, I can resume wearing my circa 1980’s Vuarnet sunglasses this summer…while playing golf. Now that’s a happy thought.

Lately, hounding thoughts about my children becoming too spoiled and used to me being home have prompted me to look at local college employment ads; and while there were a few prospects, I usually found something disagreeable that made me hesitant to apply. With three children in college, the strain has been significant as we—and they—sacrifice in order to help them succeed. Often I have recited to myself and in my prayers from the Qur’an, “With every difficulty comes relief.” (94:5)

Even though I am constantly busy either with family, self-care, or professional activities, I really have not had a stable income for over 4 years. Furthermore, there are always goals I keep to self-improve. My last blog was about speed reading, and I leveled around 475 words per minute at 90% comprehension at final testing. A few of the books I intended to read have been completed; but then I found a new one to add and realized that another book was part of a trilogy, so I chose to start Palace Walk by Naguib Mahfouz.

Also, along the area of self-improvement, I became aware that it had been a few years since I attended a local conference featuring education professionals who are adept at technology. The ICE Conference has always provided me with new tools to make teaching more interesting and interactive. Staying on top of trends in Education, even in international settings, interests me. That is why I was invited to reconnect to an education institution this week.

Now for the “Glug”: Beginning Monday, I will commence a new project—while still developing my own company and volunteering with the American Halal Association—as director of admissions and administration for Northwest Suburban College. A critical accreditation visit comes in two weeks which could qualify this young institution for FAFSA. It offers 7 allied health curriculums and 3 in basic sciences. One of its unique features is that successful completion of its pre-med program guarantees acceptance to Avalon University Medical School in Curacao. As with any new job I have a lot to learn, but the school’s list of needs matches well to my qualifications. Although initially it will be only on a part-time basis until enrollment grows, it is perfect and flexible to allow my personal businesses to continue as well. The only caveat though is that now my kids have to at least do the dishes!

Not a bad New Year’s resolution!

The Year that Golf Wasn’t…

Posted on by
Reply

half flower The Year that Golf Wasn’t…  

Crimson and gold, with yet a sun drenched array of green in varying hues, I relish these days and try to capture the images. For as the temperatures begin to make my hands chap, the reality of winter approaches.

Before the inevitable gloom and shivers, I commit to go outside more or venture at least to the gym in order for me to strengthen, lengthen, and tone because this is the year that golf wasn’t…played, except for once, and only nine holes at that.

Sadly, the lot of us, my father, husband, and I simply could not afford the time between houseguests and my dad’s injury. In my father’s case, he could not physically recuperate quickly enough to meet his goal, which was to golf again in October following a necrotic foot infection that is only now on the verge of completely mending. The result of this, from a simple tumble in mid-May, physically deconditioned us all.

It is curious how we are connected; and although the collective lapse in golf and its benefit to our fitness was missed, I’m sure that it gives a bit of comfort to Dad that he didn’t miss the season alone. We three now need to belly up to the barbells and stick to a workout schedule. Dad started outpatient physical therapy two days ago, and to see his eyes light up, like a kid anxious for a carnival ride, was a joy. When my husband and I worked with various weights and gym equipment yesterday, it stirred up some soreness, but that brought some joy—in a quirky way—for us too.

It’s always hard to start up again after a hiatus from a workout routine, but quickly the endorphins kick in—similar to what happens when springtime turns us into weekend athletes—and we want to run and bike at midnight…until we see the thermometer reminding us that it is freezing.

Then we once again scheme on how to relocate our family to the sunny side of California. It’s nearly two years since we first aspired to it; and as we wait for our eldest kids to wrap up their undergrad degrees, we dream of year-round outdoor play and superb fitness.

Skinny jeans need strong legs, and it’s time to hit the trail so we’ll be ready for golf, hopefully next year.

American Merit and Pride

Posted on by
Reply

2013-09-26_13-14-13_378 American Merit and Pride

Patriotism is not a subject that I have written much about, and it may surprise you that I do, as I fume over the faults of democracy in light of the government shutdown. Congress people are essentially government workers; why do they still get paid? I’m irked that they have feathered their own beds with elitist privilege while the masses and other government workers get nil. Yet, we, the voting public, are responsible for electing them, and we should be wise to demand a correction. What ever happened to the checks and balances system? We are out of balance, and it has become a farce thanks to permitting special interests to gain a foothold in politics. Where is the accountability?

Confucius had some insight and proposed a government administration designed on merit, as did Thomas Jefferson. Should we not reward people who uphold values of service, honesty, industry, loyalty, and integrity? These ideals are alive and well in the American public and in several corporations and non-profit entities.

As my brother-in-law, a retired international pilot just left after a month-plus long visit, he was so impressed by several experiences during his stay. These were contrasted, sadly, with the treatment he received from his own former foreign airline. It had been his dream for several years to own a particular model of a propane-fueled Weber grill. He had not visited us since his retirement as flight captain seventeen years prior. In his glory days, everyone practically genuflected to him, but now this is no more. For in many lands the concept of “wasta,” or clout, is the grease that makes things happen. No wasta? No chance, buddy!

To his frustration, since he is a retired pilot, some minion with a desk job first informed him that in order to receive his benefit of extra cargo allowance, he had to send a FAX with the company identification number of the flight captain assigned to his returning flight. An email would not be acceptable; and after tracking down the pilot, I made a trip to Office Depot and paid $3.00 for a FAX.

Then we were told that the pilot had to physically come to the cargo terminal, and we had to also physically be there within a half hour—during rush hour—in order to authorize the shipment of the grill. My husband and his brother raced through traffic just so the guy could then lie to their faces and make a new stipulation. They would have to ship the grill to New York from Chicago first in order for the airline to transport it. In the end, being such a fiasco, we decided to pack it ourselves with a shipping container as part of our export business.

Contrast this to the following experiences reported by my brother-in-law which make me feel grateful and proud to be American.

  • When purchasing an expensive sweater at Macy’s, the cashier volunteered a coupon that saved him 50 percent.
  • A sale price became available from a previous purchase at Carson’s, and he was given the refund and new sale price.
  • He purchased numerous items for relatives at Target; JC Penney; Bed, Bath & Beyond; Walmart; and Banana Republic, and had no difficulty in returns and exchanges to please the needs of many people he shopped for during his visit.
  • The Apple Store found that a broken iPhone he brought from a nephew—who purchased it from here when he was visiting last year—was twelve days over warranty. Apple honored it still and replaced the phone.

He ran numerous errands with me to all the major Chicagoland malls, post office, bank, grocery stores, and even to my husband’s doctor. We visited landmarks, museums, gardens, and restaurants, while juggling my kids’ needs and wound care for my father. Everyone was kind and very hospitable, a credit to our nation and those who serve.

At a time when we can be justifiably critical of some things in America, we also acknowledge that many of the American people are admirable.

Now, that my impromptu bed, breakfast, and tour service is wrapped up, I am eager to resume a large number of projects. I’m reminded, as my task list is long, of Lao-tzu, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” God willing, I will produce works of merit that preserve values and promote excellence in Education here and abroad.

So You Think You Can’t Write?

Image

Reply

Sue's kitchen So You Think You Can’t Write?

Yes, I started with “So.” Every day, for weeks now, I’ve been itching to write with funny thoughts, literary lines, and odd ramblings flowing from my brain. I’m the only one who gets to enjoy them.

I’ve struggled to settle on a single topic, and the possibilities range from humorous, reminiscent poetic, didactic, and even exasperated vents. Yet, I rarely sit with nothing to do, as I manage my household of 6, each day slips by without a word etched to my blog.

Want to Be Part of an Experiment? –in a few days I’ll tell you why

While starting my day with the usual morning bathroom routine (ahem), I contrived a strategy for keeping the writing skills juiced, as well as a potential method for those who think they can’t write or have writer’s block. Instead of formally composing, why not simply journal my odd observations and mental tangents to see what would be the result…?

…Looking at my face in the mirror, why do I have creases on both brow bones? I’m a side-sleeper, but should it really take 15 minutes to dissipate that evidence?!

…Why do I have grown children who leave their clothes, even after I remind them countless times, for a week on our bathroom floor (sigh)!?

…Breakfast is my favorite meal. Today, we have tea, bread, olive oil with zaatar (Greek oregano, sesame seeds, sumac), scrambled eggs, and fried sheep cheese from Palestine, which I share with my husband, Riad. Over breakfast, we review happenings on the stock market, the 60-some degree weather this morning, the fact that one of our adult children is leaving for college in one week, and the bank account. Oh, and the prospects of going to a water park, as Riad has never been initiated.

Over a robust cup of freshly ground coffee while enjoying my view from the patio, I calculate and negotiate the options for my schedule. Among them are the following:

  • Capture the chance for a morning bike ride
  • Grocery shop because it must be done today
  • Tackle the long “to do” list for developing my professional work
  • Visit a relative whose mother came recently and deliver to her my Eid gift
  • Pack a box of books from my basement and run them to the Book Rescue

As a former assistant principal, I’m trained to prioritize, constantly reevaluate and prioritize again. However, first I’ll choose to read two pages from Qur’an. It’s better than vitamins, and keeps my Arabic skills intact.

Decided. Pack a box of books, drive in a loop to the next town to drop off, after a bank deposit, and pick up groceries at 3 stores en route before returning home. I have an appointment with my Dad at a wound clinic in 2 hours. The race is on!

…On 2nd thought, the van is still a mess from the Eid weekend camping trip and needs a wash and vacuum. With Dad about 40 minutes away, who am I kidding?! Pack books, jump in van and plan to shop after Dad’s appointment.

While power washing the van to blast off the sticky residue of blackberries—or was it raccoon scat with blackberries?—I recollected the monumental blackberry tree we had in our village in the occupied West Bank. One of the nephews cleared it in order to build some market stalls on the property, which enraged the family, but that led my mind (incredible what thoughts come while washing your car for 3 minutes) to a little flashback.

I had baby #3 in Jerusalem and lived with my sister-in-law and my other two youngsters in the West Bank, while my husband went to explore business prospects in Saudi Arabia, staying with his brother for 6 months. One night, Israeli soldiers came banging on our porch door wanting to take a population survey, a sort of census. In our nighties, we covered in prayer dresses and felt vulnerable because they had rifles, but my sister-in-law stayed calm. She said that the “man of the house” was on a business trip. There was tension in the air. Even the soldier interviewing us seemed a bit uptight. Just then, my 4 year old daughter came to the door, sleepy-eyed; I spoke to her in English to go back inside the house.

The soldier asked in Arabic, “Do you have a car?” At that, my dearly clever sister-in-law covered her mouth with the hem of her headcovering and giggled, Wallah ciara, walla tiara!” (Not a car, not an airplane!). The rhyme gave ease to the situation and the soldier smiled and ended his intrusion, but the realization of potential alternative outcomes stayed with me.

Done with the bank; going to Dad’s– a 30 minute trip from here. The books are in the back of the van. I’m not planning on bringing the wheel chair. He uses a walker now, but we may opt to dose him with a bit of hydrocodone after debriding his heel and Achilles wounds. Today marks 3 months since the tumbling incident that started this.

Waiting at the Wound Clinic for the doctor, Dad came early and is ahead of schedule. After this, he wants to shop for produce; I may shoot two birds with one stone and do some of my own errands this way! His spirits are good and he said that sometimes he forgets his walker when moving about the kitchen. I can tell how active he’s been by how many sticky spots I clean off the floor each visit. Previously, I had to attend to change his bandages each day, except when his home health care nurse would come. Now, my sisters can also schedule in time using a Google Doc we share for that purpose.

The Wound Clinic doctor and main nurse are Irish-American; Dad chose to don his kelly green St. Pat’s sweatshirt. Tick Tock…even though we came twenty minutes early for our 1:00 p.m. appointment, it is 1:05…thinking of all the other things I could be doing. Surprisingly, Dad is not cantankerous yet at the delay. Perhaps he is listening to the court update on Jesse Jackson, Jr. and wife, or the chit chat between an elderly Chinese lady and her attending son, in Chinese. The world has changed a lot since he was a boy in Brighton Park, a neighborhood in Chicago.

1:10 Dad is funny. We have a new nurse today, Elizabeth, who is not Irish. He asked about Kelly, the Irish one, and mentions that he wore his sweatshirt just for her. Kelly is at lunch and may not see him today. For the millionth time over 3 months, he is asked about if he has pain, on a scale of 1-10… He looks at me and rolls his eyes at this point.

Alright, wound doc was optimistic and cited progress. That is only in millimeters, but still positive. He pulled the perimeter scabbing, hurting Dad. Better him than me doing it. Wound dressed and ready to go grocery shopping with hopes to get him back on the golf course by the end of September, if even only on the practice putting green. I had my own first foray of the year on Monday; 9 holes and wishing for more, but the short game killed me. Practice…

2:00 We are on the road again toward the produce market.

3:10 I’m running a tune-up on Dad’s computer because he complained that it was horribly slow. While waiting, knowing he has eaten nothing but a banana, coffee, and orange juice all day, I offer to make him lunch. What does he choose? Corn! “Where’s the wound healing, body building protein in that?” I ask him. We agreed he add some Greek yogurt to that order. Sugar/carb addiction runs in my genes, but fortunately we have no diabetes.

Two of my kids and a friend send texts to me about dinner, my whereabouts, and evening plans. I’d check in with Riad, but assume he is busy now.

Decide to email my siblings about Dad’s doctor visit. We will go to every other day bandaging since his drainage is decreasing. Computer is still in tune-up mode.

3:45 Done! Need to run to buy my Halal chicken and specialty items from the Mediterranean Market close to home and get cooking. Checked in with Riad; business was good today. Whew!

Remembering the books in the back of the van and the folding chairs we packed to see Perseid meteorites a couple days ago by our relatives in the boondocks, exurbs of Chicago.

4:05 Very sleepy, I have 2 more miles till the next tollway exit.

Yay! The Book Rescue was still open to take my donation. Next, I’m going to the health food store to buy some Redmond (UT) salt and coconut oil, then to the Mediterranean Market.

Upon exiting the health food store, I saw a man I recognized as a parent from my former school. “Assalamu alaikum,”  he greeted me kindly. It’s nice to see people in my town that recognize each other. We have a rather large population of Muslims of diverse backgrounds. This man I recalled worked at McDonald’s headquarters nearby.

If you’ve been following this blog, you might ask, “What happened to California?” Well, we would still love to relocate, but the reality is that 3 kids in college and their still unstable, dependent statuses have us pigeonholed here awhile. We also have a teenager who has decent friends, and is still at an impressionable age. It is sensible to keep that support for him. Truth be known, there are many positive aspects to living near Chicago, but I do take exception to the weather, especially the long cold season that inhibits our love of doing things outdoors. For now, if we can afford to escape a few times during that long spell, I would be satisfied. However, I do hold visions of relocating in the future when parental obligations lighten.

Also, this past Ramadan, a segment of my community started a new mosque. Lacking a building for worship though, they contracted the local high school gym during the month long evening Taraweeh prayers and hired a wonderful reciter (Qari) of the Qur’an. There, I saw many former students and teachers that just made me feel wonderful to be in their company. Even a former teacher is First Violin of the DuPage Symphony Orchestra; she was so kind to offer me tickets to their October Tchaikovsy concert. I have invited my nephew, a young cellist, to join me, and I am so much looking forward to that!

At the Mediterranean Market, I saw another lady who referred me to her brother-in-law in Ohio. He was my expert consultant on an article I wrote about keeping fit in Ramadan last year. I noticed through Facebook that he has been having some health issues requiring surgeries, so we had a chance to catch up and I learned more details on his struggles.

I thought about squeezing in a bike ride as I drove home, but Riad greeted me and did not feel like biking. Quickly, I pray the last few minutes possible for Thuhr, the mid-day prayer, and also catch the starting time for Asr, the mid-afternoon prayer. Finding the best way to acquire good habits is to tag on to existing habits, I do 15 push-ups and 30 squats for exercise. We have yet to return to the gym schedule after Ramadan.

Throw the folding chairs from the van into the garage and replace 3 broken slabs of jalousie glass panes before making dinner.

5:00 Time to Cook!

Cooking time usually is when my kids know that they can get my ear when I’m in the kitchen. I really don’t love cooking, to tell the truth, but sometimes I can get into it. During Ramadan, it was not unusual to be stuck there for 5 hours at a time, but my family is spoiled to an extent. The kids generally don’t eat breakfast, but they do want a hearty dinner. That is where I put effort and often about 3 hours of my day, but I have plans for 7:00 p.m. so I have to rush.

Why did the recipe state that 3-4 minutes on each side would brown chicken thighs?! It took 30 minutes! I had Moroccan Chicken Stew (magazine recipe) and a steamed kale, turkey bacon, and apple combo as a side dish. Sure enough, two of my sons take time to brief me on their day while I cook, and one acquiesced to take the picture of me cooking for a new Facebook profile pic.

Wolfing down dinner, it is 6:50 and I have to race to mid-town to see my friend, Yvonne of My Halal Kitchen, present at 7:00 at our local library. My daughter, her friend, and fiancé will attend too.

“Ramadan Food Rituals: 30 Nights of Foods That Nourish”

Presented by Yvonne Maffei, she outlined the basics of Islam, the wide array of Muslims representing many cultures and nations, aspects of the lunar month of Ramadan, understandings of Halal and Tayeb (Wholesomeness), fasting rituals in a typical day, the growth of fusion cuisine in America, Eid traditions, and my favorite…dessert demo: Stuffed Dates with Crème Fraish!

Back Home Again and Still Crankin’

9:00 Home again after Yvonne’s presentation, and I have to perform the sunset prayer. The kitchen needs post-dinner clean up, since I ran out the door with my husband still eating.

9:45 It’s time for a 4 mile walk with Riad, whereby we talk and listen to background tunes on Pandora via our phones.

11:00 Back from our walk; one of my sisters calls with news of a conference she recently attended for promotional products professionals, and we trade opinions on Dad’s care. I’m snacking on grape tomatoes and Gouda cheese. My eldest son comes home from a camping and fishing trip, and he debriefs with me by the kitchen table.

12:15 Time to pray, shower, and then my daughter visits us in the bedroom to re-cap on Yvonne’s presentation and how pictures of samosas inspired her and her fiancé to go to an Indian restaurant for late dinner. I’m really tired, but now everyone has touched base with “Mom” and one kid is still out running a nighttime neighborhood blitz type of game with friends. I decide to finally check in on Facebook, as I’d not had a chance to do so yet in the day.

12:50 My last kid is in and I’m signing off with plans to be up at 4:00 for my thyroid medicine, 5:00 for fajr, the dawn prayer, and start a new day by 8:30. Love the summer schedule!

—Next day—

There never was time to write a formal blog, per se, but time to write throughout the day. Somehow it gave me relief to purge out the extension I wished to make and document what seems like a crazed existence, but a happy one. Would you consider this a valid exercise for getting students/writers to express themselves and practice editing? 

Rain and the Rebel

Posted on by
Reply

Should have had pen in hand when my ideas started to flow, as I savored a robust morning cup of coffee, Ethiopian from Trader Joe’s. Thoughts of life’s constraints and irritations tumbled about my mind, and a bit of frustration too. I had hoped to kick myself out the door for a long skipped pre-breakfast, multi-mile walk in the fresh air; but it was raining, and I decided not to walk in the rain because it would ruin my mascara and drench the clothes I intended to wear to my dad’s physical therapy session. Today, we practice transferring in and out of the car, and I am the “lifter.” This assignment fortified my commitment to lifting weights at the gym, as I’d fallen off track when my schedule changed after my father’s fall in mid-May.

Seeing the rain, the varied shades of green under pale blue-gray skies, gave me the cloak of security and peace. My property is enveloped in trees, so much so that Google Earth only shows a canopy of them from above. The grounds are carpeted with grass, shrubs of  many varieties, and of course weeds. It is a haven for beautiful birds, colorful squirrels, and even a few ground hogs and raccoons. The inconvenience of rain actually provides the other living things in my yard their life. This balance I respect, for the world does not revolve around me. However, I can appreciate it through observation.

Another school year ends today; we hope to celebrate a couple graduations this weekend with Dad able to come out of the rehabilitation facility, and already we find ourselves planning for the fall term with three kids in college, two of them still living at home. Readying for the cycle of change to come, knowing a struggle to afford it awaits, I will relish my coffee, my ability to take care for my health, fitness, and family. The pleasure of choosing what time I will engage in work activities and graduation preparation bring me some sense of liberty and autonomy, because ultimately these all come under the domain of Choice.

We choose our perception, our attitude, our actions. It is the bane that we often succumb to habits and specifically habits of mind. Therein lies the constraints we perceive. Maybe when we sense this, it is useful to shake things up and rebel from monotony by doing things differently, freely, creatively. Life, even with constraints can offer us options. We should break free and use them.

I’ll start with breakfast!

Breakfast of eggs with portabello mushrooms and spinach; tomatoes sauteed with garlic and serrano pepper, hummus, olive oil & zataar, and tea.

Breakfast of eggs with portabello mushrooms and spinach; tomatoes sauteed with garlic and serrano pepper, hummus, olive oil & zataar, and tea.

 

Connecting Pieces of Life-When bad things can bring something good

Posted on by
Reply

Back in my childhood home, I have been caring for my father as he continues to recover from a fall he had two weeks back. He needs 24 hour care since his ambulation is not stable, and he has a very painful left foot resisting expectations for a more rapid healing. Dad and I have not shared a living space for about 30 years, when my mother, father, and siblings required my assistance for a few months before her passing away from ALS. Lately, threads of memories are surfacing, not to haunt, rather to complete a personal sense of myself.2013-05-30_14-07-27_334

As God writes the best of plans, my first job when I was 16 was as a Certified Nurses’ Aide (CNA) which trained me in providing range-of-motion exercise, patient lifting mechanics, personal hygiene care, and other useful skills and knowledge. Although my work with the elderly at St. Joseph’s Home for the Elderly, run by the Little Sisters of the Poor, was just a Saturday job while I was in high school (earning $2.40 per hour), I enjoyed serving meals, assisting residents with their much awaited baths, curling their hair in the facility’s “beauty shop,” dispensing medications, and lots of listening. They used to call me “Sweet Sue.” There was Antoinette (AKA Frenchie) from Canada who used to chat with me in French. I was not fluent, but she engaged me to love the language. Someone had said that she had no visitors except one nun who also spoke her language, and so I was heart bound to her. Within a few months though, I’d learned that she was declining food, despondent to end her life. She did not acquiesce from my pleading to eat, and a couple weeks later I was crushed with grief when Frenchie had died.

Tragedy has a way of sharpening our focus and revealing character. Although only 16, I could not bring myself to continue working as a CNA; it hurt too much to know that I had no power to help “save” those in my care.

When Dad came home, all things we formerly took for granted were scrutinized, chair heights, bathroom configurations, and sleeping, medicine, and feeding schedules. A spare bed was brought down to the ground floor and an angel brother-in-law constructed risers for it as well as Dad’s recliner that made it a bit easier for him to get situated with a walker featuring wheels and tennis ball sliders.

It has been a labor of love, even getting my night owl schedule to synch with his 5 a.m. start, and although this does not feel like “home” any more—because I have my own filled with my husband and older children a 40 minute drive away—I can remember where everything is and have flashbacks of family that kind of glue the pieces of my life past to the present.

Also, as I am roughly 10 years older than the majority of my siblings, Dad’s challenges have revealed their characters as adults now. Interesting… There is a deep sense of gratitude for my husband’s understanding and support, and I have observed my children’s acceptance and willingness to also accommodate, taking on a greater share of independence and ownership of home duties. Here’s hoping that I don’t find a tornado zone upon my return!

Since my highest priority has been loving care of Dad and serving his needs the best I can, so far I found time mostly at night to do my professional work and had used the opportunity to see a rather long YouTube (1:16) presentation by Hakim Archuletta.

Wisdom is revealed throughout, identifying the nuances of ancient knowledge related to preserving health, but the last 25 minutes of the recording hits several tidbits of good measure that clue the viewer toward a vision that aligns with what intuitively matches my own. It is worth the time to explore, and I believe answers to the causes of some deep seated illness can be discovered. The concept of “connection” converged with events in my family circles, and I value what I perceive to be God’s hints to promote healing in many of them and their relationships.

Along this line of thinking I reminisced that by digitizing old video media and about 750 photos and slides I inadvertently healed rifts that formed amongst my brood, as there’s a lot of testosterone in my house, and sometimes ego clash. By seeing our kids, we realized some things that were never apparent before. One of the most comedic was to see birthday videos of our youngest at ages 2 and 3 where his older brother merely asked to cut the cake. As parents we probably just did not want to risk him using a knife or anticipated hassles, but we put him off with a solid, “No,” and really emphasized it when he balked. Ah, parent guilt! We promised ourselves that the next family party–a high school graduation–could relieve and deliver us from potential fixation if we finally let him, at 23 years, to finally cut the cake. I wonder if the video game I always saw him play, the one with guerilla combat and hunting knife, had anything to do with that!

In viewing themselves, the kids piped up, “We were such pests!” I saw exceedingly patient parenting, but the beauty of sharing the video memories is that we remembered some really great and harmonious family times, when they were still so cute and innocent. They were close, and seeing it that way again rekindled the bonds, which were perhaps taken for granted.

All in all, I now have current media, replicable technology, which can be passed down to connect us to future generations. Appreciation of togetherness, respect, just sharing meals, and taking time are immensely healing and should not be dismissed as insignificant while our society’s patterns are shredding these conventions apart.

When I was an assistant principal, my raison d’etre was to help people develop and discover their potential. In that capacity, I connected individuals in many ways: to other people, resources, and sometimes to their inner selves. This vocation permeates my self-concept of being a type of guardian angel to help, promote, develop and connect those who can benefit from knowledge, assistance, and by lending an ear. I have been granted blessings I deem worthy of sharing, and I wish to remind readers what Hakim Archuletta pleaded with followers to do. Make it a priority, make time to connect, breathe, and live.

—–Update: Dad is back in the hospital, another one. The medical system foibles have been revealed. Two hospitals, sets of doctors, home health care confusion, and a holiday weekend delay in having competent follow-up resulted in a very bad foot infection that causes immense pain. Thanks for Loyola Medical Center and their teams for bringing a quick admission, expertise, and relief. We hope to go back “home” tomorrow or the next day.

~God is the One who has created all of you originally weak. Then after your weakness, He brings about strength in you, Then after your strength, He brings about weakness in you and the gray hair of old age. He creates whatever He so wills. For He is the All-Knowing, the Almighty. Thus, the Day the Hour of Doom shall come, God will raise the dead, and the defiant unbelievers will swear that they had not remained in the world but for an hour. Even so, they were deluded about the truth of the Hereafter.

But those in life who were given revealed knowledge and who had faith will say to them: Very truly, you have remained in existence from the time of your creation until the Day of the Ultimate Rising–in accordance with the decree in the Book of God. Thus, this is the Day of  the Ultimate Rising. Yet you did not ever seek to know of it!

Then on that Day, those who did wrong by worshipping false gods shall not benefit from their justification for it. Nor shall they be allowed to propitiate the wrath of God for their ungodliness.

Now very truly, We have put forth for the good of all people in this Quran, something of every kind of illustration. Yet even if you were to bring them, O Prophet, a miraculous sign as proof from God, those who disbelieve would still, most surely say: You and the believers are nothing but progenitors of falsehood!

And so it is that God seals up the hearts of those who do not seek to know truth from fallacy.

Therefore, be patient, O Prophet. Indeed, the promise of victory from God is ever true. Thus do not let those who have no certainty in God and His judgment unsettle you. (30:54-60)