My Extended Family
 
It seems that my mind is wandering around in tis internal file cabinet even more than usual the past few days. I have always been blessed or some would say cursed with a stream of consciousness sort of mind.  My friend Becky thi who has just moved to New Paris, Pennsylvania just mentioned the cool, brisk air which reminded me of late fall in the mountains which then reminded me of trees which reminded me of home which reminded me of books which reminded me of friendships. Friendship retruned me  to the thought of  books, which, in turn, reminded me of a poem by Emily Dickinson. 
 
There is no frigate like a book (1263)
Emily Dickinson, 1830 - 1886
There is no Frigate like a Book 
To take us Lands away, 
Nor any Coursers like a Page 
Of prancing Poetry –  
This Traverse may the poorest take        
Without oppress of Toll –  
How frugal is the Chariot 
That bears a Human soul.
www.poets.org
 
Although I grew up in relatively large family, which eventually would include 3 sisters and a brother, a mother and a dad, home was not often a happy place or a place for friendship.  In my memory it seems as if my mother and dad were frequently tired and unhappy.  Considering the fact that for at least 11 years of my childhood we lived in homes without running water or electricity and without much income, it is not surprising that my parents found life a struggle. I think my mother blamed my dad a lot although it seems as if we children got the lion’s share of her dissatisfaction with and shame about our lack of financial success.  In some ways mother adjusted very well and learned how to sew, plant   large gardens, can huge amount of food and to shop very frugally.   On the other hand, she seemed constantly stressed and angry.  As do all children my siblings and stumbled on ways of surviving.  One of the gifts of my parents was the awareness of books. Our father was a veracious reader as was his mother.  Later we would discover that our mother also enjoyed reading.  I have no idea of what books dad read although some of them must have been related to his many interests in art, design, engineering and a host of other subjects.   My grandmother had what seemed at the time an extensive library including a complete set of encyclopedias, many of the classics and more recent novels or books of poems.     Most of my reading material during the school year came from the school library.   I have no idea where I got books in the summer time when school was not in session. I do know that my memory is that every chance I got I took a break to visit with the author, the characters he or she created or the story (biography or auto-biography) of some famous person.  I devoured any and all books.  This was my large extended family that co-existed alongside those few people in life who encourage me to reach for more – to keep expanding my world of thoughts and mentors who challenged me in all areas of my life.  No matter where I was physically or geographically I  could go visit living and deceased teacher  from all part of the globe.  I was not limited to the unhappy home in which I lived or the house on the hill where the nearest neighbor was some distance away.  I want to be honest and clear her. I not only use books as a way of learning. This extended family also serves the purpose of giving me a safe place to relax as does  any healthy family.   I can take a break and visit with old and new friends any time of the day or night.
 
Once I became an adult I could expend from virtual travel to physical travel and I could meet and talk with a much larger group of people in real time. I could also continue to expand my extended family beyond the scope of the physical space in which I was then living.
 
Now,  I not only have many physical books from the wonderful public library I also have access to audio books and books I can download from to my Ipad, phone or MacBook. In fact I can access many books in libraries around the world from anyplace which has a decent internet connection.  It is magical.  I could, of course, was access many  movies or televisions program. I do occasionally watch a movie for pure pleasure.
 
I often wonder how folks such as Emily Dickinson would react to modern libraries some  of which now have no physical books.  I suspect that, as is true for many of we old people, she would long for the experience of the smell, feel and sight of physical books. On the other hand I suspect she would embrace the idea that she could  access an entire library from the comfort and safety of her home. 
 
It is my guess that Emily Dickinson would still be Emily Dickinson  and still be challenging us and herself in her poems.  The last live of  her the poem about books is:  “that bears a human soul.” bears witness to her belief that if we look carefully we will find in the words of the writer the essence of the soul which, of course, is the essence of the person.
 
I was just talking to a young man who is enormously bright, passionate and thoughtful but who runs from the essence of who is he is. He keeps filling up the time and pace in which he finds himself without  finding himself. How is it that we can so easily lose ourselves.
 
I often think that I could have just used books as a way of escaping. Certainly I did use them for an escape, but most of all I was searching for myself.  I was challenging myself to find and face myself. That is an ongoing process. 
 
Just as there is that part of me who can identify with Emily Dickinson in her poem on books, there is that part of me which can see myself in her poem”
 
I’m Nobody! Who are you? (260)
Emily Dickinson, 1830 - 1886
I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Are you – Nobody – too?
Then there’s a pair of us!
Don’t tell! they’d advertise – you know!
 
How dreary – to be – Somebody!
How public – like a Frog – 
To tell one’s name – the livelong June – 
To an admiring Bog!
 
The irony of course is that it is in honoring the “nobody”  we discover the “somebody” who is a “nobody”.   I wonder if we should let the current presidential candidates in on this secret.  Humm…..
 
Written October 29, 2015

This morning I was chatting via text with my friend Sue whose mother is living the last stage of her life.  Her mother has not always been the easiest person to take care of or to be with.  Bless her heart.  Sue mentioned that her son called his grandmother who said to him, “Your sister always is the only one who ever loved me.”  Sue said to her son, “It is probably the drugs.”  A part of Sue knows that this probably partly true, but she also know that although she is the one who has always been there to take care of her parents, she is not her mother’s favorite. Neither is her son the favorite grandchild.  Sue is like the unpaid Cinderella.  When Sue moved to another state she found a nice place near she and her husband for her parents to live out their remaining years.  She and her husband have always done whatever needed to be done to insure that her parents are as well taken care of as possible.  Sue has a sister who is also not very appreciative of all that Sue and her husband do.  In short it is quite obvious that Sue is not even close to being the favorite child.   I reminded her that every family has at least one favorite child. This is frequently the child who takes no responsibility for the care of their parent(s); swoops in occasionally for a brief visit bringing gifts and runs back to their sanctuary.  This child is wonderful. They are kind and always agree with the parent(s). They do not push for their parent to stop driving the tank like car when they no longer have much eyesight or hearing ability.  They do not push for the parent to move to assisted living or, God forbid, a nursing home. They come in, cover the parent with kisses put on their wings and fly away. 

They do not go visit for the 10th time on some days because the parent cannot find something such as the television remote or cannot see the put the thermostat back where the dutiful child left it.  They do not cart the parent to the doctor or make sure that the pills are counted out.  They call once a week or whenever, say loving, sweet nothings and quickly hang up because explaining that as the successful child or grandchild they are just so busy!  They are wonderful.   In the meantime Cinderella or Cinderella in drag dutifully steps in to serve the exalted parent!

I know that one needs to be very thankful that one’s mind is able to work in a way that allows one to do what is morally right for their parent(s).  It is not the fault of the “favorite” that they are like the prodigal son in terms of how they think and behave.  They do not sit down and pray, “Please God, help me to be self centered and unappreciative of what my sibling or mother does in taking care of the parent/grandparent.” No, for whatever reasons their synapses fire a little differently.   They drew the short straw and won the position of favorite child.

I was remembering the poem by Emily Dickinson,

I'm Nobody! Who are You?
I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us -don't tell!
They'd banish us, you know.
How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!

Literature Network » Emily Dickinson » I'm Nobody! Who are You?

Online-literature.com/Dickinson/448/

This made me smile.

I was also reminded it is important not to take the behavior of the favorite or the behavior of the parent personally.  I really do not believe that anyone decides that they will be self centered and unable to be empathetic.  I do not believe that one was issued the Cinderella role at birth although it may seem that way.  I like my value system and the fact that I am able to think the way I do. I do not envy the favorite. Well.  Okay.  Perhaps I do envy the favorite at times.  At times it seems as if it would be nice to be able not to feel responsible or not to feel guilty for not   being the one who is there to take care of the parent(s).  

I know that there is a reason why that Jesus fellow said to Peter to forgive seventy times seven times. Forgiveness is an acceptance of our shared humanness – of the fragility of the human mind and our inability to understand how all the factors come together to make synapses in the mind fire or not fire in a certain sequences.

Dr. Ellen Libby in an article entitled “The Favorite Child:  unraveling This Pervasive Dynamic” says:

Did you know that there are favorite children in every family? Did you know that favoritism impacts every family member for life? In my 30-year practice as a clinical psychologist, I have observed, on a daily basis, the effects of favoritism on favorite children, overlooked children and unfavored children. I elaborate on this never-written-about topic in my book The Favorite Child. I describe how favoritism is alive in every family and impacts every member.

Favorite children affirm their parents or fill a void in their lives. As a reward, these children believe that they are adored more than anyone else in the family, that they have won the quintessential prize of being the most cared for in the family by this important parent. Holding this belief, children feel confidence and power. They grow up trusting in their abilities to impact positively on the world and to take on important challenges, such as solving the problems of hunger and disease, or excelling in literature, sports, or the arts. Usually parents are unaware -- first, of looking to children for verification or fulfillment, and second, of favoring children in exchange.

Huffingtonpost.com

In short the favorite child has the important job or profession. They make a difference.  Cinderella is merely doing the survival chorettes.  Her/his name is not in the newspaper. Oprah or the hosts of The Today show do not interview them.    They are not elegantly dressed and toned. Forget the prince and the magic ball gown.  It just ain’t going to happen.

But then Emily reminds us:

“How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!”