Beyond Books

Reality hits you like a freight train sometimes, and it's being able to see through to the end of the recovery processes that sometimes is the most difficult. When will this be over? When will my luck change? When will my children stop suffering so?

We are reading Lovely Bones this month by Alice Sebold. The author created a touching story about a death of a young girl and the effects that it has on her family and friends over the years. It takes place in a time when suburban communities were on the rise. The cookie cutter houses and sterile neighborhood tracks paint a vanilla appearance on the secret lives of the husbands, wives, and children that live behind their color approved doors.

Like the suburban neighborhoods in Lovely Bones, living out some of life's most difficult experiences and tragedies in quiet desperation is the reality of South Orange County's situation during these tough economic times. South OC has become the antithesis to our rough inner cities.

It is also within our own nicely lined liquid-amber streets of Rancho Santa Margarita that we come to discover that life's hardships holds back no prejudices. In between smiles at the park and a friendly wave to a passerby that our neighbors and schoolmates are dodging the day when they may lose their homes. Mothers and fathers equally losing sleep, wondering when their next meal will make its way to the dinner table for their children, ever needing, ever growing.

Fortunate are we who have family to come to our rescue when things get a bit tight. But what about those who don't have this blessing? If they could be called our neighbor but not our family, then perhaps it is up to those of us, few or plenty, to take on this fostering role, like Grandma Lynn or Ruana Singh who were able to step into these nurturing roles during the Salmon family's difficult years following the death of Susie Salmon.

Names and faces are interchangeable and our roles are ever changing. Perhaps love is the only constant- the one thing that we can rely on when we stand on either side of the line, one hand extending in love, the other in gratitude- even when the love comes from an inebriated individual such as the case with Grandma Lynn.

And food can be a loving gesture between two people.  Between strangers or close friends, it's a guaranteed door opener.   Whether it's the devastating loss of a loved one or to a very lesser extent, the loss of a family's source of income, our life situation is our personal reality that can drag each of us deep into our darkest moments.  But the sharing of food like Ruana's apple pies or a meal for a suffering family can be like a warm blanket on a stormy day.  It doesn't deny the reality but it can lure us out of the storm and shelter us from it's effects temporarily.  And hopefully it's the love that will break apart the heavy clouds and bring some sunshine back into our lives.    

The Quiet Room- February Book Discussion

I am excited to be meeting up with our group tonight.  Our conversations are enriching and interesting.  But mostly, sharing my feelings and opinions helps me get closure on literary works recently read.  Tonight we are discussing The Quiet Room, written by Lori Schiller and Amanda Bennett.  

The Quiet Room is about Lori Schiller who grew up in Scarsdale, NY and finds herself sinking into a mental illness during a period that should have been liberating and exciting.  Just finishing her college education at Tufts University, Lori is soon defeated by the reality that something is not right with her mental health.   And after long hospital treatments and a multitude of tests and observations, Lori is diagnosed with schizophrenia.

The Schiller and Bennett reveal the dark and sinister voices that dominate Lori's daily life. She moves through hospitals, half way homes, and her family home fighting not only the voices that are screamingly inside of her mind but also fighting the reality of coming to terms with the illness itself.  Social acceptance and self independence are like grains of sand that easily slip through her hands just as she begins to take control of her life.  The battle is long, lonely, and at times dangerous for Lori as she finds the answers to her mental illness and a release from the voices.  As an observer, we are given a glimpse of Lori's illness and her personal fight to regain a small sense of normalcy back into her life and re-enter into society.      

Some discussion questions for your own discussion:

Given that Lori was the oldest of three children, did birth order affect the way her siblings and her parents approached Lori's illness?  What do you think the response would have been had Lori been the youngest or the middle child?

Social acceptance was quite important in Lori's community and also to her family.  How is Lori's illness perceived within her parent's circle of influence?  How does her illness affect Lori's own peers?

How do Lori's parents react and behave during Lori's illness?  Did their behavior and actions help or hinder Lori's treatments and therapy process?

There are many people living with mental disorders that go undiagnosed or untreated due to lack of support financially or otherwise such as Lori's own grandmother and great aunt who were excused as being "crazy" or "eccentric."  If her family's social ranking were anything less, do you think Lori could have received adequate support and been able to finally take her illness under control? 

There are a few voices in The Quiet Room that have a chance to express themselves including Lori's college friends, family members, and even the voices which take on a life of their own. Who do you most identify with mostly?  Who do you sympathize with?  Who do you think hurt Lori the most during her journey of torment?

There were many times where the voices gave her reasons to take her own life yet she finds strength to stay and fight the illness and reclaim her life.   Were her attempts at suicide cries for attention, help, or a true need to extinguish the madness within her?  Who or what stopped her from taking her own life? 

Lori made some decisions that proved to be disasterous  Let's recall these situations individually and discuss how her mental illness did or did not play a part in creating these life threatening situations.   At what point during these situations can we draw the line between her healthy mind and her state of illness?

Should a person living with a debilitating mental illness such as Lori's have right to seek suicide as an option to relieving his/her pain and mental anguish?  Had Lori have died due to the complications of the drugs clozapine, does this drug complication equate to a successful suicide attempt?  

Love Stories of Our Own

In the spirit of St. Valentine and the upcoming love and friendship day, I would like our readers to send in their love and friendship stories and I will post them.  I think we need to be reminded of what is important in life when so many things around us remind of the bad.  I don't think I need to cite the many examples. Just turn on the news if you wish to be depressed.    I think it's necessary and healthy to be reminded of the love that can surround our lives whether its from a good friend or a family pet.  Its love that makes the world a calm place to raise our children.  It's love that fulfills our desires to strive for something better and not settle for anything less.  It's love that pushes someone to achieve great feats.  It's love that takes care of the world's orphans and feeds the hungry.  Isn't it love for our family and friends that makes our lives worth while?  Acts of love towards strangers is contagious and memorable that feeds both the hearts of the giver and receiver.  Isn't it love that makes the world go round?  

So to start it off, I have two stories for you.

This is the story of my good friend, Kathy, and her family.  

When I was in grade school, I spent a lot of time with Kathy's family.  I had always loved her parents.  They were kind and generous and always treated me like one of their daughters.  During this time, Kathy had told me that her parents were divorcing.  To a young girl in grade school, I didn't understand nor did I feel it was in my business to ask any questions.  To me, I only knew that it didn't make any sense that two good caring people who were raising four wonderful girls would break apart a family unit. Over the course of the years, Kathy and I slowly lost touch with one another.  It's been over twenty years since I had seen Kathy last.  We finally connected through Facebook about one month ago.  During our conversation catching up about our past,  I asked how each of her parents were doing.   Her mother was doing great, still working with patients as a physical therapist and her father was well and healthy.  She had said that over the course of the years, her parents had always had maintained a close relationship with them as a family unit, spending time together during the holidays and such.  During one Christmas about five years ago, Kathy flew home from New York to visit for a few days.  During Christmas eve, her parents announced that they were getting married again!   They had kept their relationship on good terms while they dealt with their personal issues.   Finding strength and healing to overcome their individual struggles, they also found the courage to allow their love to continue over these years and came full circle to close the loop on what they had started so many years ago.  

This second story is about my godmother and her husband.  

My godmother Louise had married Stanley many many years ago in Los Angeles.  They relocated to Orange County and bought their first house in the mid 60's.  I lived across the street from them.  Stan was the kind of man who had many great stories to tell but he kept a quiet life.  Until you spent some time sitting in their living room couch, you wouldn't know that this man's eyes could sparkle like stars when he spoke of his days driving trucks or his time spent in the Army.  His wife Louise was the chatty one, garrulous at times, and loved to be the one to interrupt him and finish the story like it was her own.  

Louise and Stan loved each other.  They loved to gamble.  It became a past time and near hobby for them.  They would hit the road with their federal tax return money and try to increase their income at the tables.  They would save their coins, roll them up and hit the road from OC to Reno to play the slots.  Every day over the years, Louise would cook his meals, wash his clothes, and as he got older, she would take him to the doctors and drive him to church every Sunday, even if they were in Reno or Vegas, they never missed mass.  She loved him dearly and cared for him as a loving wife.  She had always kept her independence and worked over the years too but seeing them as I grew up, she had embraced her duties as wife and loving mother. Louise's love for Stan was unlike other couples.  Their relationship seemed like a gem in a coal mine.  He used to tell me, "As long as Louise was happy, that's all that mattered to him."  

As I got older and left for college, I had less opportunities to stop by her house and visit. During my sporadic and infrequent visits, I would see them age over the years.  Tears would swell in Louise's eyes as she would update me of their lives.  She told me of Stan's last visit to the doctors and the ailments that would keep building up:  

He needed to stop smoking, so he quit cold turkey.  

He couldn't see any longer.  

He couldn't drive any longer.  

His kidneys were failing him.    

He had been in and out of the hospital over the last few months.  

He caught pneumonia and had to be taken to emergency.  

He had to use a walker, he's too weak to stand strong on his own.  

He needed in home care because it was too much for Louise to do by herself any longer.  

He was now in a wheel chair.  

He just got transferred from his home to a hospice.  

He had been in hospice nearly two weeks.  

The next day would have been his 92nd birthday.  He had passed away in his bed.  

The funeral was small and private.  He was the world to her and she, his.  They were their own persons but even better as a couple.  To me they represented a true loving couple- not even close to a Ricky and Lucy type but more the private type that doesn't get the attention of TV and trash rags.   It's the type that behind closed doors they showed their affection and love for one another and toward others.  They were the kind of couple that you wished were your parents.  Louise once showed me a slice of her wedding cake that she had wrapped up in wax paper and had intended on eating it later after their wedding.  It somehow ended up being packed away with with her wedding dress.  Years later, it was still intact and on display under a glass case when they renewed their vows on their 50th anniversary.    Louise married Stan at the age of 19.  They were married for 69 years.