A thank you to friends ...

I am so blessed to have friends that clearly care about me.  My friend Kelli came over Tuesday afternoon when I was really falling apart.  She has similar health issues and is struggling as well.  When we get together we always enjoy each others' company.  We end up laughing at stories from growing up or stories of things that recently happened.  We talk about our families, and she brought me a coffee :-)  The following day a good friend of mine Chad came to visit.  Chad was kind enough to pay for one of my prescriptions (it was under 10.00), and treat me to dinner.  We had some really serious conversations about life and religion.  Chad offered to spend the night, which was great for me.  We watched the Daily Show, The Colbert Report, and @Midnight.  Thankfully I have a guest room with bed - so spending the night is comfortable for my guests.  We had breakfast the following morning, and then I took Chad to Lititz for something he had to do there.  Sadly for me, Chad is leaving this Thursday for a trip to Europe.  He is walking this trail that goes across Spain.  It is a life changing experience to make this trip as it is hundreds of miles.  I am happy for him that he wants to take this life changing step in his life.  I wish I had the courage to just pack up and go.  My brother Kris has been calling me to keep me posted on his computer issues, which of course serves as a distraction.  My neighbor Becky, came over this morning and took Mick for a walk.  My friend Ashley is coming later today to talk over a cup of coffee.  My friend Katie texted me Weds. night to make sure I was ok.  She reminded me in a phone conversation that I am now apart of their family, and if I need anything I should call them.  I would be remiss if I did not mention my friends who read this blog and commented on my Facebook page.  I have recently rediscovered friends from high school who have really been so supportive I am humbled.  Though we are about an hour or so away from each other, through the use of social media i.e. Facebook, we have managed to rekindle friendships lost after graduation.  It's funny, I never really felt very liked in my high school.  Maybe it was me that kept people at arms length, but I am grateful that as we all become Seniors - we are now supporting each other through this maze called life.

Many thanks to all of you that have been so supportive during this dark time in my life.  The good thing about dark times, is that if you can hang on, the Light is not far away.  This why the color guard I teach and direct is called The Light - we try to bring light to those that watch us as well as to those that perform with us.

Humbly and respectfully

Bill

The week so far

I haven't written for a couple days because frankly life for me has not been so great.  I know that so many people that have read this have issues with depression.  Some it is just moderate or intermittent and some of us get into our black holes and can't get out.  We get caught in these "loops" (that is what I call them).  They are loops of negative thinking and believing.  Or our frustration with our lives gets us to this point of severed or deep depression.  I want to feel Joy again - I want to really appreciate the colors I see when I look out my window.  For me this week has been worrying about my job, possible retirement, and the possible loss of almost everything I have known.  That fear of losing the life you have known has to be the worst.  I can't imagine the people who, one day are great, and due to some bizarre circumstance are now out on the streets.  I have been thankful that in my life I have never had to experience that, until this week.  I was looking homelessness in the face.  I'm scared and the more scared I am the more depressed I am.  The depressed I am the more I withdraw and the more I withdraw the darker that depression gets.  I have been blessed to have my friend Kelli and then Chad come and sit with me.  We've talked and laughed, watched some TV and drank some coffee.  It took my mind off my dilemma and that helped.  It is really really hard for me to reach out when I get like this.  If you see your friends withdrawing from life - chances are they might be depressed.  If they seem flat when you talk or look at them - probably depressed.  It was a comfort to have those friends visit.  Would I have gone all Robin Williams if they hadn't ?- no - because through my training as a counselor the only kind of plan you should have for this situation is the one where you take yourself to a hospital.  Usually we know our limits - for me it is when my head feels like it is going to explode - brains and blood splattered everywhere - when I start to feel like that - it is probably time to be thinking about the hospital.  Often that thought a lone will calm me back down to ride the wave of darkness.  I don't want to sound like I am proud of my illness - but I want you to know that I am not ashamed.  It ran in my family, so it really is not surprising that I have it so badly.  The good news is that I have not suffered so greatly in many years.  I have had bouts but never bouts as dark as this one.  In times like this - passing judgement is probably not a great idea - but just reaching out, or offer to just come and sit - or watch a movie together - eat a lot of ice cream - whatever helps - but take the time to do it because it does mean a lot and it does help the person in pain.  Oh and don't try to help them figure it out - just allow them to sit with it and let them know you are there.  More than anything else that will help the person get out of their "loop."  I saw a friend's post this afternoon where she was saying she needed prayer because - although she was not feeling Robin Williamish, she was in a pretty dark place.  I wanted to cry knowing that another one of my friends has to experience these kinds of feelings and moments.

 On top of all this, I discovered that Saturday two weeks ago I suffered a mild stroke.  I have testing next week to make sure there was not damage and that I am ok now.  I suspect I will then be placed on some kind of medication to try to prevent anymore.

Friends I am speaking from my heart and being open and honest about my life. One of the things my therapist suggested was to write about all of this so people know it is real.  That people with depression really can be happy and laughing on the outside, but drowning on the inside.  It is the silent quiet moments where the still small voices enter my head and start asking the what if questions that I have not answers for: that is the worst time.  Night time, bed time, and alone time all trigger my loops for me.

I know this is not a very bright and cheery post, but life really isn't always bright and cheery - sometimes it is just in the shitter!  Hoping that I can pull myself out of that sometime soon!  Shitters are gross!!! :-)

PS-  I am not proofing this - I don't have the concentration to do that - so if you see grammatical mistakes on this post -  keep them to yourself.  You don't want to give a rock to a drowning man do you????

Milestone Reached!!!! 500 plus!!!!

Thank you to all of you out there who have been reading my blog!!! The blog hit a milestone - over 500 page views.  I am so glad that people are reading this!!!  I will keep working to put out interesting stories and other odds and ends as I go along -  I look forward to any comments - I am trying to improve my writing so that I might work in the writing industry.  Again thanks so much for getting the blog past 500 it is very exciting!!!!!

Cars and Scars - my first accident

Growing up Bill presented some problems in my mid to late teens.  Of course one of the biggest Rights of Passage for any 16 year old was the driver's license.   Now because of my extra-curricular activities i.e.  marching band, I never had time to get my license even when most of my classmates did.  I can still remember sitting in Study Hall and talking to Mel about how she had her license, and I still did not have mine despite my being older.  Sometime between my sophomore and junior year, I got my license and was on the road.  I was always going to the ACME market there at Bridge and Main for my mom so I could drive.  I became a driving fool.  I also became another kind of fool.  I had started smoking again because, I was driving and wanted to look cool while I was driving.  

It was August of my junior year, I had gone home for lunch from band camp for some unknown reason.  On my way back to Spring-Ford high school, I decided not to go down Main Street to avoid the lunch time traffic.  I went up Chestnut Street and all the way across to Yost Avenue.  I decided I would go down Yost Avenue.  Yost Avenue was a wide enough street but there was parking on both sides, which made navigation tricky sometimes.  Navigation became trickier as I was smoking a cigarette while driving because - "Hey I was cool."  I should say at this time, that I suspect many people in Spring City thought I was this really nice little boy.  I was really never in trouble or a problem.  I spent most of my time in front of my house blasting band music and twirling the batons, or rifle,  or flag.  I was visible most of the time.  So I am driving down Yost Avenue and to be cooler, I put the cigarette in the ash tray, something I never did while smoking.  The speed limit on Yost was about 25 MPH - when I looked at the speedometer I was going close to 35 MPH (Having a heavy foot runs in my family!).  

Suddenly, without any warning, the cigarette fell to the floor of the car.  At this point I kept my smoking hidden from my family.  I was terrified that the cigarette on the floor would burn a whole in the rug, and I would get busted for smoking.  While holding on to the steering wheel with my left hand, I leaned over to the right to pick up the cigarette.  I guess when I leaned right I also turned the wheel to the right and slammed into a parked car.  All I could think of was my parents were going to "Shit a brick" when they found out.  I was quite responsible when I got out of the car.  I was concerned about getting in touch with the people whose car I hit.  People began flooding out of their homes like a tidal wave.   Suddenly a woman looked at me and screamed (I know they do it all the time why would this be any different?)  I reached up to brush my cheek because I now felt something on it.  Sure enough it was blood, and I was bleeding profusely from a cut under my eye.  You know where the bone is for the top of your cheek but the part under the eye where there is nothing but skin and bone.  This woman ran into the house to get me something.  I asked the neighbors to call the police and, having seen my face, an ambulance was called as well.  

It was not long before the woman returned with a wash cloth wrapped around ice cubes to put on my face.  Shortly after that the police arrived.  I was ushered into the car and probably for the hundredth time since the accident I told the police officer my parents were going to "Shit a brick" when they found this out.  The police man asked all the usual accident type questions.  He asked how fast I was going, and I told him I thought it was about 35.  He said out loud, "Speed limit is 25 on this street."  I responded with a less than enthusiastic, "Oh."  He continued saying, "Well you are a good kid and you are never in trouble, so I will write down you were going 25 MPH."  I was stunned but not going to question the police.  He asked me how it happened.  OK - so I was so embarrassed that I hit a car and not just a car - but a parked car.  I felt like the biggest loser all because I leaned down to pick up a cigarette I should not have been smoking in the first place.  I had just gotten new contact lenses and was seriously having trouble with them.  They would get blurry, and I would have to blink to clear them.  So to save face about the cigarettes, I told the officer that I had taken a long extended blink to clear my contacts.  Now I know what you are thinking - OMG you lied to the police.  I would prefer to look at it as though I bended the truth a bit to save myself from my parents finding out I was smoking.  I am sure the officer was like, "Really?"  Thankfully that was written in the report.  

By this time the ambulance had arrived and there was a debate about taking me to Phoenixville Hospital by ambulance or some other means. I am not sure about this, but  I think I was headed into the "shock" portion of the accident as I don't really remember much until I was in the ambulance.  My mother was working at Valley Forge Flag not very far from where the accident occurred, and so just about the time I left in the ambulance, she arrived on the scene.  Since the ambulance had already departed, the nice police officer offered to drive her to the hospital.  Before she left she removed my belongings from the car.  

The people in the ambulance were questioning me about the accident.  I guess they smelled the cigarette on my breath.  I explained about the extended blink and how my parents were not only going to "Shit a brick" but by now it had escalated to a "Gold Brick."  One of the ambulance attendants laughed and then said something about how he knew of someone who was smoking in their car and dropped the cigarette on the floor of the car.  When this guy bent over to pick it up, he also hit a parked car.  I can recall nearly shitting my pants and thinking how did he know this?  I was totally freaked out by his comments and by now I realized that the siren was going, and we were driving towards Phoenixville like a "bat outta hell!"  I felt the ambulance dodging cars as though we were on a slalom course.  Seriously, we were all over the road.  Now I was fearing for my life that I would even just get to the hospital alive, never mind all the other stuff. 

I arrived in one peace and my briefs were not soiled so I counted myself lucky.  They wheeled me in on a gurney - they had to move me and by this time the adrenaline had left my body, which left me very dizzy.  (I know as you read this you are thinking "Bill you are already dizzy how could you tell?)  (seriously - just stop!)  I went into X-ray and thankfully nothing was broken, but it was decided that I would need stitches.  While I was lying in the corridor in came my mother.  She was very upset, until she realized I was not going to die on her.  Now - THE worst moment of this entire mess occurred.  I was lying there happy my mom had come to comfort her little boy during this tragic time.  My mom pulls up this little brown bag, pulls out a pack of opened cigarettes, (They were Kent's) held them up to my face, and asked me what these were?  Ok really mom - you smoke and you don't know what they are??  So I said, "Cigarettes."  And then she asked whose they were, reminding me to be very careful how I answered this question.  Before I could answer, (As I believe that it is true that when you are near death, your life passes before your eyes; I too was replaying my life)  she said I found these on the front seat of the car.  BUSTED!!!!!!  So I fessed up and told her they were mine.  She wanted to know for how long I had been smoking.  I decided that telling her I started in 2nd grade was not going to make my life any easier, so I told her - Geez I don't even remember what I told her.  Keep in mind this was 1974  so everyone was still mostly smoking.  It was considered a dirty habit, but of course every member of my family smoked.  I was not sure why my mom was so stunned that her youngest son was smoking.  

After I my stitches were in place, it was time to go home.  Sadly, I don't recall any of the trip home.  

I was lying on the couch in our middle room, which was right next to the kitchen, when my father arrived home from work.  It may not have been the first thing my mom said to my dad, but I promise it had to have been in the top three-  "Guess what honey, your son smokes."  My dad went off saying all kinds of embarrassing things about my smoking.  It was such a huge barrage of comments, that I believe this was the moment I learned how to zone out when my parents were talking to me.  As a result, I don't remember anything he said to me.  It is also possible by now the pain killers were kicking in!  

This event happened on a Friday I believe or maybe a Thursday, it is all kind of blur through this period.  I recall being taken over to band camp and seeing everyone.  Of course I was out of band camp for a few days.  On Saturday, my brother Bob and his girlfriend came to our house to play cards. This was something we did frequently and always had fun.  We were all sitting around the table having a nice time, when my brother went to light up.  In a blink of an eye, my father looked at me and said, "Bill would you like a smoke?"  Thus humiliating me in front of my brother and his girl friend.  My brother looked at me and said, "You smoke?"  Why was everyone in my whole "smoking" family so surprised by this epiphany?  He asked, "If I wanted to smoke with everyone since now I was a smoker too?"  I guess because I had been hiding my smoking for so long, it felt really awkward to smoke in front of them.  I figured they would dissect my technique like they did with everything else I did.  This "ribbing" went on for quite a while until I was tired of listening.  I got up and left the table.  I said I was tired and my face hurt.  Of course my brother was quick to add, "Yea, it's killing me too!"  I went into the middle room and reclined on the sofa.  

Eventually I healed, but there is still a slight scar to remind me of that marvelous day.  I did continue to smoke off and on up until 2002 when I lit up - took a drag - thought it was awful - and tossed it out the window.  Sometimes I miss it, but then I think what it does to your body, and that gives me what little strength I actually need to not smoke.   There is a picture of me in the 1975 year book with the band.  I think Sandy is in it as well.  Because I have one arm up and one down with an African knife in my hand, you can see the remnant of the scar from that fateful day.

You might be asking yourself, "What happened to the car."  The car had belonged to my grandfather.  He gave it to my mom (his daughter) because we needed a car.  It was an old Falcon.  I have no idea anymore what year it was, but I do know it was old.  The front panel was the only visible damage, so we figured it would be fine.  Turns out, the car was soooo old that I bent the frame when I hit the parked car.  The car had to be junked.  I was not permitted to drive a car for a very long time.  I was back on the school bus, until a friend, and I don't remember who any more, started to pick me up.  This made for a very long school year.  

Dad's and their Lawn Mowers or Son get your lazy butt out of bed!!

My dad cutting the grass - though normally he had a baseball cap on along with the scowl on his face

Growing up as teenagers, there was one day a week we all looked forward to - Saturday right?  And how about Saturday morning, the time when we tried to catch up from the lack of sleep we had lost during the week.  As an adult, I still look forward to Saturday mornings for that very reason, and I have been out of work for over a year now.

As a high school student my main objective for Saturday mornings was to sleep in until about noon.  Now that all depended on what was going on that day, but for the most part that was my objective.  N The problem was parents  decided to have me late in their lives.  I have been assured over and over again that there was a family meeting in which my parents discussed, with my brothers, whether or not they wanted another sibling.  My brothers apparently said, "Yes" because here I am.  My brother,  Bob, wanted to name me Harvey Haddock after a famous baseball player.  Thankfully good sense prevailed.  But I digress.

I remember Bob telling me not to let my dad cut the grass, because he was old and therefore should not be doing it.  After all, Bob said, " He could have a heart attack and then wouldn't you feel bad?"          I believe the tactic my brother used to get me to cut the grass is called guilt.  So every, not just some,  Saturday morning around 8 AM,  my dad was out cutting the grass.  I should also mention that the majority of his cutting began in the side yard underneath my bedroom window.  Wasn't that thoughtful of my father?  As this was the days before air conditioning my windows were normally wide open.  How could I not hear the roaring sounds of the lawn mower?   I would open the window, stick my head out and yell for him to, " Stop."  He would stop, and then I would yell down to him that, " I would cut the grass when I was ready!" (like about 1 PM).  He would yell back at me, "Well I'm ready now."  I would quietly huff, roll my eyes (as any teenager worth his/her salt will do), and yelled down to him that he could stop I'd be down in a minute.  I would quickly get dressed, run down the steps, grab a glass of OJ, and head out to where the mower was sitting (yes directly under my bedroom window).  I could complete our small side yard, the big yard next to our house that actually belonged to the Foundry, and then a portion of our backyard as my Aunt was not happy with how I cut her grass, so she made her older husband do it.  Then I was able to return to the inside of the house and eat my breakfast.

I will say that this did not happen every single Saturday, but there were not many Saturdays my father missed playing this game with me.  I don't know if he knew what Bob told me and that was why he worked me like he did, or if he just thought I was lazy,  and he wanted me out of bed.  Regardless, most of my Saturday mornings, (during grass cutting months) always began like this.  And let me tell you that this little game we played went on for all three years of my attending high school.

So when ever I hear the roar of a lawn mower and the scent of freshly cut grass I am reminded of those Saturday mornings, during my teenage years, when my father "worked me" into cutting the grass for him every Saturday morning no matter what.

Me cutting the grass - yep that is about right too - blank expression- shorts, tank top, and baseball cap

First let me say that I fear that almost no matter what I say - if either of my brothers or family members read this it could spell trouble.   Therefore this post will be about me and not so much about them.  When I was in graduate school a few years ago for Clinical Psych.,  we talked about birth order quite a bit and how it has an effect on each child.  I suppose there are probably many of these charts floating around the internet. I just happened to come across this one.  I think it is safe to say that "one size" does not fit all when it comes to issues of psychology.  Usually situations are more complex than a simple chart.  Most of these charts need to be seen for what they are; some kind of a guide to help explain certain personality qualities or characteristics. Naturally they are fun to look at and see how much you are like who you are supposed to be!  Take me for example,  I am a last child but because of my brother's ages compared to mine, I was raised more like an only child.  Truth be told, by the time I was starting to become a little boy who wanted to play sports and be active, my dad was just about all out of energy.  My brother Bob picked up that slack, and had me outside playing baseball, giving me a concussion playing football (so now you know the truth :-)  and we played basketball.  Sadly I never grew really enough to play any of those sports but baseball.  Despite my twirling proclivities, my hand eye coordination - when it came to baseball - was pathetic.   I just didn't get the concept of swinging the bat at the ball - no I mean at the ball with purpose.  If I ever got a hit, it was pure divine intervention - and can assure you I had no hand in that.  It wasn't long before Bob went off to college, and I was left to my own devices except when he came home.  I liked wrestling with him, and when he became and assistant wrestling coach, he worked with me.  Bring on concussion number 2.  He accidentally slammed me to the floor in one of our wrestling bouts!  (Somehow I think you are all getting the picture here with my brain :-)  

As I grew older and Bob was around less, there were few peers in my neighborhood.   I had to entertain myself and so started the twirling thing.  It was athletic, despite what some thought, and I could do it by myself.  It turns out that by myself was how I spent a large chunk of my teenage years.  But this story is not about all of that, this is about birth order.  So for the sake of this post I will look at both the last born and only child.  Why?  As I said - by the age of five I was an only child pretty much. 

 I was not,  am still not much of risk taker, however I was very close to my mother.  My relationship with my father did not really flourish until we moved to Lancaster in the late 80's.  Pretty much most of my life I wanted Mom to divorce him as I did not feel like he was treating her well, and I was pretty much verbally abused most of my early and teenage years.  Which takes me to sensitive and sense of humor.  I was very - no wait - I am very sensitive.  I am hurt easily (not like in my teens) but I am hurt easily.  Bur on the flip side of that, I also believe I have a really good sense of humor.  Hey growing up me - a sense of humor was a requirement for sure.  I am mostly out-going but it has only been since I began therapy that I was able to gain some self-control.  I can look back now and see how, at times, I was way out of control!  Many might say I am self-centered.  I can tell you that I work really hard not to be, and if I sense that I am being self-centered - I try to cool it.  Mature - that makes me laugh.  20 plus years of working with teenagers keeps you young.  I am still waiting to hit my growth spurt and grow up!!!  I know it is going to be a very long wait!!!  Financially Irresponsible  - where can I begin? If you ask my brothers they will probably tell you I am way irresponsible and it gets blamed on being the only child.  After having a serious bought with depression in 2000, and then having to go through a bankruptcy due to the depression.  Yes folks, like many who go through depression, they by things because they think it will make them feel happy.  I ended up playing credit card roulette.  And back then, being on time was not possible for me.   I was always just slightly more than fashionably late- I was annoyingly late!  Back then this was actually something I seemed to enjoy.  As far as being competitive is concerned - you do not win the awards I did in high school by not being competitive.  This trait is pretty strong throughout many of the Harker's and passed down through generations.  We are a competitive bunch for sure!  I never saw myself as demanding, quite the contrary, and in fact, I have often felt that I need to step that part of me up a bit.  I do get bored easily for sure, especially since all the knee surgeries.  This is because up until about two years ago, I was still taking my flags, rifle, and saber to empty parking lots to practice.  That has always been my escape.  The iPod has made that so easy to take your music with you, and you don't bother others.  They just think you are crazy jumping and dancing around with color guard equipment in your hands and there is no music!!!  What's that old saying, "Do me wrong once, shame on you.  Do me wrong twice shame on me."  I don't completely operate that way, I generally give a few more chances than one, but once you have done me dirty too many times, I have to be honest, I move on.  And really who does not like to be pampered?  That alone is such a general statement as most of these really are.  I love going to a massage therapist and having a great massage.  I can't afford it now and miss it, but there is a bit of pampering I love!!  Private - really - I am spilling my guts on this blog!  I would have to say that private just does not fit me.  For the most part, I am an open book, if you take the time to get to know me.  

That covers them all.  I could go on and talk about how some fit my brother and some do not.  As I said, not that I think either of them are reading this, there is no reason to start a war.  Some fit them and some are not even close, but as I said, many of these are not a real scientific measure of a person's birth order personality.  They are great fun to look at and compare to, but generally unless you are looking at a tested instrument, these are more of a guide than facts.  Have fun with it and see how you fit in, have your friends do it too.  One of these charts is a great way to launch some good genuine conversation and that is never a bad thing.  

And remember that families come in all shapes and sizes today!!!!

How do you get from Tuscany to Judgement? Read on to find out!

I watched Under the Tuscan Sun last night.  I have a friend who is about to embark on a European trip and it made me think of this movie and how cool it might be to move to a foreign country, buy an old broken down villa and then work on fixing it up.  Imagine all the people you would meet shopping in town and being a part of a new culture.  I have to say that living in Lancaster all these years, even though I have made many good friends, has been stifling.   A friend of mine who works in Lancaster but lives in Chester Country said that the 50 mile drive makes such a difference.  He said it is hard to believe how different the people are in Lancaster compared to Chester County.  I know that Central Pennsylvania is the Bible belt of PA,  and don’t get me wrong I truly believe I am a Christian blah, blah, blah, but I also believe that everyone has the right to decide what works for them.  I have known Buddhists, Hindus, atheists, agnostics, and Muslims.  Do I agree with their faith?  Maybe not but I agree that in order to be a more complete person you need to have faith.  Faith in something: I mean  without any faith where are you going to end up?  Do I think my faith is better than yours?  Why would I?  I’m not you?  I can’t possibly know what’s in your heart and mind so how could I know what is best for you.  My Christianity teaches “Judge lest you be judged.”  Hey if my faith brings me to an after life with Pearly gates and St. Peter with the book of my life.  Then no way am I getting “taken down” for judging someone.  I try my hardest not to judge anyone.  I may not like what you are doing, it may not be healthy for you to do what you are doing, and according to my faith you may even be sinning, but I have NO input on that.  What you do morally is between you and whoever.  Don’t judge!

So likewise I have a very strong conviction about other people feeling that their religion or faith is more superior than mine.  I detest when people question my sincerity about my faith.  You don’t know my heart.  Don’t judge me.  Am I perfect? - for humor sake I would say, “Of course” - but man that is not even remotely true.  I not only have issues (as we all do), but I also screw up.  I say things in jest that are taken wrongly.  I was told that I was a lousy teacher last year, I was told I did not understand Jr. high students, I’ve been told I’m an asshole.  Ok so maybe sometimes the last one is true, but I don’t do it on purpose.  Anyone who knows me knows there is hardly a mean bone in my body anymore.  I even feel bad when I discipline the dog!  Again,  don’t judge.  

Sadly, I believe strongly that the prevailing attitude in Lancaster is one of just plain judgement.  I know it sounds like I am judging these people.  That is not my point.  There are many nonjudgmental people I am friends with in Lancaster and they agree that many in Lancaster are very judgmental.  I suppose what is at the core of this issue is that there is only one true religion and it must be followed to the letter of that law.  If you do not follow this law, or this religion, then there is something completely wrong with you.  It also means that you are not worthy or an equal to them.  Shame on you.  This creates people with small world views with narrow minded beliefs.  At anytime in history we can look at groups that were bullied for a variety of reasons.  I remember Catholics were fish eaters and not to be trusted.  I remember that ALL black people were called the N word and were not to be trusted at all.  I have learned that the Irish were not trusted when they came to America and neither we're the Italians.  Now it is Gays and Lesbians.

I can understand, based on your limited world view that you don’t like gay people; I can understand you don’t think they should be married; I can understand that you think they are going to hell, but i cannot understand your attitude of hate towards these people.  You are judging based on your narrow criteria.  I often think about all the types of people Jesus spent time with.  He did not judge them for what they did.  Hey sin is sin no matter what it is.  There were murders, prostitutes, adulterers, thieves, and many more.  There is an entire list posted on one of the doors at  the church in which I work.  Do you really think Jesus would turn his back on a gays and lesbians.  I don’t, not my God, He is a God of love not hate.  He would be there to help and counsel as he did with Mary.  Just because you are gay or lesbian does not mean that you should not have the option to be a Christian or any other religion for that matter.  Gays and lesbians need as much if not more support than most people.  Please stop judging people!

I am happy to know that our younger generation and many faith based groups are beginning to accept gays and lesbians into their organizations.  Many gays and lesbians already have some kind of serious faith relationship.  No longer hiding in shame because if the truth were known, they be cast out of the organization.  It is good to know that gays and lesbians are no longer be looked at as anything other than a human being.  There is hope that people will stop judging others.

I’ve used the gays and lesbians as an example, but we all know that in high school anyone not in our clique was considered to be a pariah and we wanted nothing to do with them.  The girl I sat next to during graduation was a prime example.  I met her during graduation practice when I had to sit next to her.  We didn’t know each other at all, but until graduation was over, I felt so lucky to have known her.  She was not part of my group, and maybe I did see her in school but she was still not someone I would have been friends with because of how she dressed.  I know very shallow right?  But that’s my point, I was shallow in high school.  I am thankful that I am no longer shallow.  I learned from a group of black, female teenagers that I was Bill.  I had no color and was not different to them than anyone else.  This was truly one of the greatest lessons of my life.  

Our country needs more tolerance and understanding or I fear for what will happen to this country.  No matter someone’s race, religion, color, and sexuality we are all human beings with feelings, hopes, wishes, and dreams.  People really need to stop judging others!

PS- I know this is a long way from Under the Tuscan Sky - but maybe not as far as you think.  Pawel was judged because he was Polish and not Italian - Frances, though was not judged, because the people in her Cortona were open and friendly people.

Robin Williams has started a full-fledge dialogue

I wrote earlier about depression.  I write because I have personal experience with it and know how serious it can be.  No one really knows or understands how serious this issue is, but the loss of someone like Robin Williams has really rocketed the issue to the forefront.  What I am posting is a a Facebook post from one of my former students Monica.  I met Monica when she was in 8th grade.  As I recall she was in a car accident that nearly took her life.  As you will read she had to struggle with a mother who struggled as well.  Monica really had the deck stacked against her, but she was stubborn and a fighter.  She never gave up - never!  She had a rough life, but she is a mom now and from what I can tell - a darn good one too!  I am really proud at how hard Monica worked to make sure her life and her children's were better.  She has an amazing sense of humor which is often born out of struggle.  I think humor can balance that sadness and anxiety that can plague us.

Monica is responding to the posts that called Robin a coward for completing suicide.  I read that there was a FOX newscaster that made that remark.  This has been the opinion of those completing suicide.  Mental health officials have been trying to change those attitudes to help people understand that usually by the time a person reaches this point - they have already been fighting a difficult battle and they just can't fight anymore.  It is hard for those left behind to imagine that someone can really feel like that - but they do.  None of us really know what is going on in someone's mind.  When these events happen we tell people to look for signs and to reach out and help.  That helps if the person who needs help wants it, but often people who are feeling this way withdraw from life and relationships.  Sometimes the more we try to help the more they withdraw.  It is very difficult in these situations.

I've spent the last day inside myself, reading the worlds reaction to the shocking suicide of a household name, a man that lifted us, sometimes when nothing else could and I have to say it's brought me down a few pegs. What a tragic loss of a beautiful life. I try not to be horribly negative or dramatic on the interwebs but lately I have found it within myself to share bits and pieces of what's going on in my life and it's obvious that it's been a rough road lately. You see, I have a mother who, in all intents and purposes was my only parental figure growing up and at times, she was great! Best. Mom. Ever! But throughout her life she battled demons that not even the love of a child could penetrate. As long as I can remember she was some sort of mentally ill but it wasn't until the last ten years that it progressed and pretty much swallowed her whole. Sometimes I look at her and still see the mom and friend I once had but it's mostly a shell of a woman I love so much it hurts. Her situation, like so many others has been undoubtably mishandled for so many years that there really is no going back. Doctors have prescribed drug after drug just hoping the next one works only to find that it's not only ineffective but it's making her symptoms worse. I guess what I'm trying to get at is, mental illness is no joke and I've seen the debilitating affects that it can cause first hand. There is a darkness and it needs to be taken seriously. Don't go out and judge a man who couldn't pull out of the deepest depths of his own private hell just because you think he should have sought help instead of taking it into his own hands. Don't call him a coward because he fought one of the hardest battles and that was his own mind. Instead of judging, maybe look at the big picture and realize just how serious mental illness is and how desperately we have to improve the care involved. Please, I am not looking for sympathy on my behalf, I'm just sick of seeing this kind of shit happen and and the negativity that follows.

I am not suggesting not to help or not to reach out to those in need, but you have to make sure they do not have a plan - if they have a plan - the situation is more serious and needs intervention immediately by professionals.  Through my experiences and my clinical psych background and years of therapy, I have learned to have a plan if I feel like I am going over the edge.  My plan is to check myself in a hospital if I feel like I can't go on.  Knowing that I have that plan has been the wake up call that I am in really bad shape.  This has helped me work harder at pulling myself out.  There are those who take medication for depression and other mental disorders - It is really important for those taking them to keep taking them and not to stop if they feel better.  That is why they feel better - the medication.  Go off and on medication can actually cause more trouble.  If you are on medications - stay on them - if you want to stop - talk to your doctor to arrange that process.  You are taking meds that mess with your brain - you need to remember that and take that into consideration when you start making these types of decisions. 

Reunion thoughts days later ... what does this all really mean?

 Sunday night, after the reunion, I got my yearbook out before I went to bed.  I was still basking in the afterglow of one of the best get togethers I think I have ever experienced with my classmates. The exception for that may have been the night Susan (Flanigan) and I went to the Limerick diner after a reunion.  We sat there until the wee hours of the morning reflecting on our lives then and now.  You see Sue and I were connected from the time I started kindergarten at Spring City Elementary school until our senior year.  I think maybe even a bit after that as well.  She was one of my "on again and off again" girlfriends - sometimes she was my girlfriend and other times she was my girlfriend.  Like so many of our age we balanced back and forth on the high wire of friendships and relationships trying desperately not to fall off and land on our faces.  Over the years Sue and I had some very serious conversations about life - both hers and mine.

This reunion was different.  I think it was different for all of us, but it was especially different for me.  My high school experience was not really all that wonderful.  I guess some of that was my fault - I mean in the mid 70's being a male baton twirler was a kin to wearing a neon sign on your forehead that said "I need to be bullied."  I had some friends - sure - Priscilla and Rob were my lunch buddies everyday.  I was friendly with students in my classes like Pam, Mel, Eileen, Kathy, Ellen Beth, Amy, Lora, and of course others.  I remember being grateful that I survived high school and more grateful to leave it behind for good.  When I went to college (finally), I attend a small Christian Liberal Arts school on the mainline of Philadelphia called Eastern College (University).  By this time I had become a Christian and wanted to provide support to teenagers that I felt I lacked when I was a messed up high school student.  At Eastern I found acceptance that I had never felt at my high school.

Life moved on and I had to learn to move with it.  I moved to Florida, Boyertown, Philadelphia, Virginia, West Chester, Texas, and Lancaster.  This was from the time I graduated high school until now.  From each of those experiences I learned something new about myself that made me more the person I was slowly becoming.

More years passed and age was creeping up.  My mortality was becoming a reality and not a distant thought.  I was not going to live forever, I was not going to be 20, 30, 40 forever.


Suddenly, thanks to the advent of social media - many of us were getting connected again.  Because we all had our own personal epiphanies in life, we became wiser.  Now some of that no doubt has to do with the fact that with each passing year we get closer to leaving this mortal coil we call earth.  We have to make up for the time we may have lost because we did not know who we were in high school and now we have a better idea.  We have become tolerant, caring, understanding people.  Many have been married (some more than once) and have children.  We learn - we grow.  Suddenly it seemed like the right time to rekindle old friendships and maybe risk making some new ones to get to know the people we went to school with that were not in our social circles. Our world views are broader now allowing us to view people with an open mind that we did not have the maturity to do in high school.

So there I was - pouring through my yearbook and reading the quotes or thoughts we left about our plans for after high school.  We came to find out that some of us did not like those plans, found other interests, tried a variety of things and some even achieved the goals we set for our lives when we graduated.  Yes we all had our personal struggles on the road that is life.  I wondered what had happened to many of my classmates;  the ones that I felt had some affect on my life and who influenced me and who I had become.  Many of these people were not at the reunion.  I attempted to find some on Facebook that night, but many of them would require more searching than a quick look.

As the dust continues settle from what has been deemed a truly magical night, and their are plans in the works for another around the holidays; I have to wonder how this will all work.  We want to nurture these new friendships.  I hope that we all do.  I wonder if in a few weeks from now - once the dust has really settled and life begins to go on again, will we be able to nurture those relationships just made?  I hope so because Saturday night, as I said, for me was one of the very best high school reunion experience I have ever had.  The authenticity of my classmates and the topics we discussed really made me go back to my year book and wonder - wonder what it might have been like had we not all been so confused about who we were - and enjoyed and celebrated our differences and struggles.  Even if we are unable to sustain this momentum that we have found, my life is so much richer because I dared myself  a rare experience in life, that is to reconnect to those with whom I shared 6 - 12 of years of my life.  I came with anticipation and an open mind.  I decided that if I was not having fun I would make my excuses and leave.  Instead I was one of the last to leave and was prompted to get out my yearbook to think about how much I really missed some of the people who did not attend.  Our lives are clearly made richer by those that pass through it.

I hope our next "reunion" makes my life richer than it was Saturday night.

Something Exciting

Given the blog is only a a couple weeks old - I am excited that it has already had over 200 hits!  I encourage those of you who have viewed it- to like it or subscribe to it so you see the updates.  I will try to write on a variety of topics - so something for everyone.  I will also try to post pictures along with the posts.  I would love any and all comments - good or bad - suggestions for topics to explore.  I just really have gotten interested in the idea of blogging.  I would also eventually like to do more serious writing so I am using the blog as my notebook for future writing - maybe linking together multiple stories.  I would also be lying that I would love to be able to make money off the blog which happens after you have a big following and you post adds for products you think your readers will be interested in.  If readers click on the product links - I get a percent of that!  That is of lesser importance in this entire endeavor, but a nice perk!  Some blogs get picked up by bigger groups and that would be awesome as well.  So again Many Many thanks to those that have ventured on so far.  Please suggest it to those you would think would find value in the posts!

The Spring-Ford Class of 1976 Impromptu Reunion

The Class of 1976 Spring- Ford Golden Rams 

(ok so maybe not the best likeness he looks more happy than fierce)

I start working on this post as I have just downed 5 of Mel Schrader's Chocolate Peanut Butter sinful cookies!  Mel knows how to make a cookie :-)

So it is the day after the impromptu Class of 1976 reunion - not official but for how it came together well attended. Tom Adams, Paul Jefferies and I all agree that this was the best case scenario for a reunion. Relaxed and informal - 

Tom Adams (sorry Tom it's dark)                               Robin DiCola and Paul Jefferies 

Cheryl's home and pool area was the perfect spot for such a gathering and I am sure that everyone attending is so grateful that she hosted this event. 

Joyce Beck, Cheryl Carr, Robin DiCola                     The Pool (Jim Kelly bottom right)

We have all grown and changed and are much smarter - but we still have our quirks that made us who we were in high school : 

Liinda's laugh, Mel's sensibility, Eileen and Cheryl's sense of humor, Becky's deep and brooding insight, Tonya's out going personality, Janet's infectious smile, Carol's knowing looks,  Jim smile (smirk) knowing look (not sure how to describe it), talking to Paul and finding out that he should have his own comedy show, Bruce is as nice as he was in high school, Kathy's warmth and caring, Debbie's laid back attitude, Robin's loyalty and sense of humor, and Cheryl's amazing light.  I think I caught everyone I talked to, and sadly because of my own cooking horrors, I arrived later than planned.

I think as we talked yesterday we all realized that, because back then no one really talked about their home life out loud - not like today - that many of us were going through some really difficult times.  Interesting to realize that or maybe think that this why these people may have acted or treated people the way they did.  One classmate who terrorized me through Jr. High School - and I mean to the point of taking the long way around to avoid him or not going to the restroom at certain times because he might be there, decided that taking his own life was a better alternative to the "who knows what kind of hellish life" he may have been living.  We didn't find out until much later in our lives that our classmates had children we did not know about, marriages we did not know about, personal situations we did not know about, substance abuse issues, teachers who actually provided substances to their students because they thought it was cool.  Yes, it was a different time from today.  

Students are so much more forthcoming with their personal hells and are able to get help now.  Where was the help we needed when we needed it?  So maybe we all need a sense of forgiveness towards these people because we did not know the heavy loads they carried with them day in and day out.  Ours was not quite the Donna Reed generation - they are older than us - but we may have been part of the Leave it to Beaver generation - We believed that everything was ok.  Obviously it was not.

Because I am the kind of person that I am it, in retrospect, makes me sad that we were not able to better communicate with each other.  Or maybe feel safe enough or secure enough in ourselves to communicate with each other when some of us really needed to be able to be honest with our friends.  Yes we were young and invincible, but we quickly learned that we were not.  To my knowledge most generations have not been.  Some generations have been stronger than others but never invincible.  

Thankfully we were able to admit around a table yesterday that we were all insecure in who we were, who we wanted to be, much less how to get there.  Many of us may have been the first to attend college or even have had the option to attend college as many of our parents' did not.  My father had an 8th grade education and my mother was a graduate of secretarial school.  Surprising,that in my family, my siblings and I all went to college and all became teachers.  Perhaps, despite my own insecurities, confusion, and lack of real guidance from my parents I managed to make away for myself.  Many of us did not have that chance.  One class member shared that he had a baseball scholarship to Mansfield, but his own lack of direction coupled with his father's lack of valuing an education kept him from attending.  I am not sure you would see that happening as much today.  

Even talking about the loss of classmates to tragedies was difficult.  Remembering these special men and women and what they lost and those around them lost by being taken from us all to soon.  It is always sad when a teenager loses his or her life.  It is not how life is supposed to be.

 But at least there is the present and the future.   Hopefully these friendships, for some that have been reforged, will help provide that support that we lacked growing up. I liked what Mel said about being able to nurture some of these new - old friendships.  

I think of the Simon and Garfunkel Song - "Old Friends" - I know the words were really probably written to describe the later years of Simon and Garfunkel or what they observed walking through Central Park in New York.  The idea of two (men in this case) people meeting in the park for years and watching the years go by.  Who would have ever thought that at 70, they would still be meeting.  For me this suggests that yesterday was about old friends getting together again, for some, after many years.

So to all my classmates from the Class of 1976 Spring-Ford High School Golden Rams - I raise a glass (ok coffee cup) to toast a really wonderful evening with some "Old Friends!"

I leave you with the words to "Old Friends" and some pictures of the reunion 

Old friends,
Sat on their park bench
Like bookends.
A newspaper blown through the grass
Falls on the 'round toes
On the high shoes
Of the old friends.

Old friends.
Winter companions,
The old men
Lost in their overcoats,
Waiting for the sunset.
The sounds of the city,
Sifting through trees,
Settle like dust
On the shoulders
Of the old friends

Can you imagine us
Years from today,
Sharing a park bench quietly?
How terribly strange
To be seventy.
Old friends,
Memory brushes the same years,
Silently sharing the same fear...

Sorry it is dark to tell who everyone is 

Mel and Cindie (Cindie if you saw this earlier - sorry)

Chris, Jim Kelly's wife, Jim

Linda and Darlene

Linda, Cheryl's Husband, Cheryl, Mel, Tom Eileen, Bill, Becky

Cheryl and her husband and Jim Kelly's wife (my guess is Cheryl is trying to post pictures on FB)

Robin, Tonya, and Eileen (presenting of course)

Becky and Cheryl

Jim and Joe

Joyce and Robin

Darlene and Chris 

Barb

Chris in better light

Tom, Jim, and Cheryl's Husband

another group shot

Jim's wife

Mel, Linda, Kathy, and Cheryl's famous Rotties

Joyce, Tom, Paul, Robin's back, and Chris???

Chris in a poorer light

Tonya

Debbie 

Tom, Cheryl's husband, Jim

Joyce and Eileen

Robin

Tom in center Jim in bottom right

Becky

Kathy

Linda and Lou

The pool or calm before the storm!

Bill and Mel 

Bill's ear and shoulder, Mel and Linda

                         

The early group 

  

The late group