And a new generation … & Me
Posted November 18, 2010on:
She can become a mama, as Stacy did Sunday, but you can’t take the worm out of the girl.
Back in 1986, all three girls – Maggie, Heather and Stacy – explored the backyard of Stacy and Heather’s home. One day, Stacy was fascinated by the discovery of a worm, which she cradled in her hand for a very long time.
Suddenly, she learned fractions, announcing, “Look! Two worms!”
Maggie was there for Spring Camp Chicken Pox. Whenever she was exposed to chicken pox, she had to be out of our house because chicken pox and chemotherapy could be a fatal combination. After Matt relapsed we figured we thought we would have three more years of chemotherapy. This time we intentionally exposed little Maggie to chicken pox, really exposed her.
It was a good thing because she had to be over chicken pox in order to donate bone marrow to Matt in Minneapolis.
While Heather and Stacy and family had moved to Indianapolis, we remained friends. However, they were not such good friends that they would accept a shipment of Michael when he came down with the pox years later.
We have remained friends, seeing each other a few times after they moved. But in 2008, both families went to the weddings of Maggie and later Heather.
Facebook has reunited us in very powerful ways. For all the criticism of Facebook – some deserved and some not – this powerful communications smorgasbord connects people in your daily and not so daily life.
And it is a smorgasbord – you can pick and choose between all sorts of things. You can ignore requests from Farmville but play Scrabble. Or vice versa, or both or none at all.
You can do some Face-stalking – checking in on kids without being so overbearing or at least not caught (so often) in being overbearing.
You can provide support in troubled times, as I received during my breast cancer treatment.
And you can celebrate the good stuff in life, as I began on Sunday with the birth of my friend’s first grandchild.
Facebook connects us, as do other media. And I heard about this thing called the telephone. And was reminded of it when Nancy called me at 4:30 a.m. from Germany to say that Stacy gave birth to a boy an hour and a half earlier. She had to call somebody, she said, and picked me after speaking first with the new grandfather and new aunt, of course.
It was a real honor and I’m glad she called as I had been Face-stalking or perhaps Face-pacing back and force her since told me in a private message on Facebook that the baby “was stirring.” She meant the birth process was beginning, although she was not allowed to post general messages on that.
Knowing Nancy was there and I was sure taking pictures, I kept checking back for more news. I left messages, but in Germany, soon-to-be grandmothers don’t even come to the hospital during labor. They stay home until called to meet their grandchild. And Nancy, who I’m sure had an itchy camera in her equally itchy hand, had to wait.
Nancy and her family have been a part of our lives for a long time, although more distant since they moved to Indianapolis. Nancy came up to Minneapolis to be with us when Matt died (along with other friends). And she was part of our lives when our son Michael was born in 1987.
About the time of Stacy’s labor, someone posted this quote on Facebook from Albert Einstein that I felt fit. “There are two ways to live your life – one is as though nothing is a miracle, the other is as though everything is a miracle.”
And in digging around for that quote I found another from Einstein that is equally appropriate: “A human being is a part of a whole, called by us ‘universe,’ a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separated from the rest… a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.”
Smart guy, that Einstein.
And I found one other quote that probably doesn’t have anything to do with Facebook or Stacy’s new baby, but I like cats. Einstein once explained new technology this way: “You see, wire telegraph is a kind of a very, very long cat. You pull his tail in New York and his head is meowing in Los Angeles. Do you understand this? And radio operates exactly the same way: you send signals here, they receive them there. The only difference is that there is no cat.” And I’m glad no cat was hurt in the making of that quote or this blog post.
Congratulations Stacy & Sebastian. Now please name that baby.