Unlike many Mainers, I live a plane ride’s distance from all my family except my daughter. Selfishly speaking this frees up weekends to pursue our own desires while other Maine families are doing Sunday meals with family. On the other hand there are plenty of times I’d like to live closer to my parents to help out more. When we do gather from long distances, it’s an event.

Tomorrow I’ll be leaving my quiet summer routine for a week in Wisconsin. It will be total immersion in the Midwest- custard stands, corn fields and farms bordered by subdivisions, lake country, the land of brats, beer and big families.  By the way I don’t eat the brats and I hate leaving my garden, which is full of delicious veggies right now.

It’s a raucous biannual gathering at my parents of my brothers, sisters and everyone’s children and partners, approximately 18 in any given year. It’s a great way to reconnect, swim, take walks, cycle, wine and dine together.

Feeding 18 people is a production. Usually we’re on the porch in the summer- the whole crew needs three tables to fit everyone. Of course the youngest grandkids get their own table.  Looking out over the lake, temps usually warm and muggy, stories flowing all around the tables, what a feeling relaxing with everyone.

Each family plans and cooks at least one dinner and must remember all the special needs- gluten free for her, who’s veggie now, not too much garlic or hot spices for mom and dad.  Hopefully everyone lends a hand at some point on the dishes. Come to think of it the various in-laws who never got up from the table to help are all gone from the family fold now. A telling detail!

Despite all the help, my mother still seems to be in the kitchen much of the day or running to the store for more food. My father’s contribution to the production is being host of the gathering, which means he is in charge of airport runs, drinks and check writing.

There’s such an energy with three generations mingling and lots of conversations as people catch up. Who has the latest tattoo or hair dye or new interest among the nine grandkids?    How well are each of us siblings juggling family, careers and life?  And how is my parents’ health? 

Some years it’s been my dad we're worried about with his multiple hip replacements; this Christmas my mother cracked her ribs in a fall and now some nasty arthritis in her knees has kicked up. None of us are getting any younger that’s for sure and aging is more charming in the grandchildren.

Though here’s a generation buster. Last year Leah, my daughter Eileen’s partner, taught my mom how to paddleboard. There she was all 5 feet 4 inches of her, sun hat on(until her first capsizing), life jacket cinched tight, the original Wisconsin lake girl trying a new water sport at 75.

Who knows what fun we’ll get up to this year?

Suit shopping at Macys

Thank goodness for old-fashioned department stores. Every 5 years or so we find ourselves in the men’s suit department at Macy’s looking for appropriate attire for a wedding or graduation.

Last night with really bad music (Donna Summer style) blaring in the dressing room, Ron stood on the raised platform in front of the angled mirrors dancing in various pants and vests. At least he took off his red Nikes and put on the black shoes he brought in his backpack.

Thankfully there was a helpful salesman for our innumerable questions around fitting, sizes and such. This is foreign territory for us, though I did find the only size 32 pants on the mannequin. He didn't look quite the same after!

Ron kept his good humor through the 32-inch pants, which will need to be taken in an inch and the lime green shirt, which was definitely not going to be the right color choice for his outfit.  But he got a little ornery when the small white shirt wouldn’t button around his medium neck!

I consulted with the salesman- yes indeed the top shirt button must close for the bowtie Eileen would be sending him to wear.  Feeling empowered since for once I wasn’t the frustrated shopper in the fitting room, I explained you have to buy the size for the biggest part of you- all women know that.

I ordered him to give me the grey pants, vest and size medium white shirt so that I could go pay for them. The salesman and I laughed over that, he added a 25% off coupon to the already discounted price and we were done. Ready for another wedding thanks to Macy’s department store.

Our military legacy- a mounting toll

This spring I went to two graduations, one high school commencement in Maine and one graduate school ceremony in Boston. What was striking in both speeches was the similar topic- the emphasis on veterans’ sacrifice, level of hurt and need in this country right now.

The guest speaker at Massachusetts School of Professional Psychiatry’s graduation was Tammy Duckworth, a veteran from the Iraq war, Black Hawk pilot, current congresswoman and double amputee.

She discussed the tremendous psychological toll the injuries have on returning vets. 100's no 1,000's of men and women learning how to walk, feed themselves and reinvent their lives after serious injuries.

She described one fellow patient at Walter Reed who spent 16 months playing video games in his room. “This isn’t who I am,” he told her one night when neither of them could sleep. “I’m a lieutenant in the army, a star athlete- not someone without any legs sitting in a hospital room.”

Duckworth herself after over two-dozen surgeries and 13 months of rehab has a new career in politics and is back flying private planes. The psychology graduates were urged to dedicate themselves to caring for veterans suffering from PTSD or myriad other illnesses. And to be creative about providing this care, so it is readily available for all veterans who need it.

The speaker at the high school graduation, a popular health teacher and basketball coach, spoke simply and with a few well-received sport's metaphors. He encouraged the new graduates to work hard and be determined in their goals using the story of a young wounded veteran who in the time these students were in high school fought in Afghanistan, was severely wounded and then rehabbed in the states, exhibiting grueling determination and courage to recover.

The parallel topic of these two speakers reinforces how profoundly this country is being impacted by our military’s continual intervention around the world. The antiwar era I grew up in has been replaced with a country dedicated to its military and national security.

War amputees and brain injured veterans are spurring new research advancements in prosthesis and trauma treatment. While we can be glad for that, we created the need for it.

Each year I have students who celebrate enlisting in the military. They see it as an opportunity for an education, a job, and a moral need to protect America. I remember one bright senior I taught who was determined to be a land mine detonator.  I respectfully spoke to him about how dangerous the military was as a career path and suggested college instead. 

He was killed in Afghanistan. Then I taught his younger brother and saw the pain and cost of that loss on a daily basis.

My students speak knowledgably about the effects of PTSD on their dads, uncles, and grandfathers who fought in the Korean War or Vietnam and how jumpy older friends are who return from the newest wars in Afghanistan and Iraq.They know what it is like living with a veteran still struggling with the effects of combat experiences.

I cannot imagine the physical and psychological trauma veterans are returning home with and the long struggles they have adjusting.  Will we as a country take care of them for the duration?

An equally important question is if there isn’t an alternative way to invest the skills and energy of our young people than sending them to war.

Lovely moments

Last Thursday night sunset around 8:30 PM.

My first yoga class after being laid up felt amazing. I was tenuous, afraid I  would trigger another back spasm.. Instead my body felt capable and happy to be used. Susan gave me some assists to help me strengthen a few poses; she was very sweet and supportive. How nice to live in a community where people know you. It was lovely to be back in the groove of a yoga class.

 
The next day Ron suggested a bike ride- again my first in a few weeks. When I haven’t ridden in awhile I get really fearful- dogs, traffic, you name it and it makes me nervous. Luckily, my back only hurt when I was standing on the hills of which there are plenty. Lots of other stuff hurts on hills too though- like my legs! But it was affirming to be pedaling away; I’ll get back into with a little help from my resident coach. It makes you feel so content- a good workout.

This last weekend the sensation of summer vacation started to settle in. Various times during the weekend it struck me – no school! No planning, no correcting, no teenagers.

Freedom to putter

Garden

Paddle

Swim

Bike

Hike

Watch bugs

Listen to birds

Savor my coffee

Read books

And write!

I can feel my brain cells relax along with my demeanor. I love summer in

Maine.