Everybody Loves Bob

Every week day a group of us meet for breakfast. We share the latest news, a few laughs and connect on issues that are of common interest. There are times when we do not share the same viewpoint and agree to disagree. What a joy to take time with friends who have much in common, link on that comfort level, but now and then scatter afar, take time to listen, shake up ones comfort zone and part for the week with perhaps a glimmer of a new awareness.

That is the power of the group after all. Years ago, longer than I care to admit, I began several groups during my professional career. The first one involved six to twelve year olds. I was a school counselor working in a suburban school in the Twin Cities. Each day different students stopped in my office to unburden themselves. For the most part their issues involved separated or split families. Within a few weeks I heard the same story repeated from different perspectives and ages, but with similar feelings, frustrations and concerns.

"How would you like to share your time with another student who faces some of the same problems as you relate to me?"

Surprise, surprise, each student I approached meeting with other kids with some of the same issues, jumped at the chance. No hesitation, "Oh, yes. I would like that," was the response and within a week's time I had a group of ten children from first to sixth grades, crunched in a circle on my office floor, sharing, crying, laughing and supporting one another. The comfort from discovering they were not alone was powerful, to say the least. The supportive feelings swirled around that small office and followed them down the stairs and back to their classroom and then to their homes.

The students who wanted to join that group swelled beyond what the room could contain. Within a month or two I divided the groups into grades from first through six. There was something lost with older and younger sharing the same woes, but the power of the group dynamics still continued.

Later I started parent groups, first the mothers who wanted their husbands to have a similar experience, then the men's group. Those groups continued long after my transfer to another school.

There was always a magic in all of the groups. There was a power of the many over the one, lone individual facing demons on his/her own. For me, as the counselor, their was the ability to reach more clients than on a one to one.

Today in our small breakfast group I was sharing something about some people who were angry with me over something or other I don't even recall right now. I can get rather in-your-face when I am passionate about an issue, and have earned resentment by some.

"Well, they aren't angry with Bob, are they?"

Bob was quietly eating the breakfast special and made no response.

"Everybody loves Bob," came from one voice in the group.

Oh, yeah, how true! My steadfast husband rarely sees a need for confrontation. He lives his life, true to his values. He never preaches, tries to convert or make a scene. He simply is who he is. He is one of the most grounded persons I have ever known. He is my rock and example. Some teach, some preach. Others try to convert. Bob lives his life. No wonder my friend believes that everyone loves Bob.

I am not sure about everyone, but I am very sure about me.

Chickens, Bees and Bicycles

So we live in a community of under 4000 citizens. There are many amenities lacking, such as great theatre, ethnic restaurants and chamber orchestras. But what we lack, we more than make up for in pure air, low traffic and congestion, corny community theatre, local music groups and safe travel for our veterans in wheelchairs, bicyclists and walkers. Why, most cars even stop on the street to allow for safe passage for a walker to get across the street.

One of our most special perks of living in the serene river town of Hot Springs, SD, is the city allowing  its residents to have bees and chickens within the city limits. We tried the bees for two seasons, but maybe because of all the spraying of neighborhood lawns or whatever, we lost our bees, but not before they left us with gallons of sweet, healthy honey.

Now we are going to try chickens. (Roosters not allowed because of their noise. I, personally prefer the early morning crowing to that of barking dogs, but, oh, well, we are grateful for chickens that will furnish us with fresh, free-range eggs.)

Today our Chamber of Commerce sponsored our annual "Spring Fling", which is a home show featuring businesses from the area, as well as some non-profits, also vital to the community. I had attended the "Poultry Presentation" and was wandering around, checking out the booths, while waiting for the "Tomato Presentation".  I had signed up to picket at our VA after our rally and demonstration for Save Our VA, purchased some discounted punch cards for our city-run municipal pool, and was chatting with friends at another booth when I heard a familiar sound. Cock-a-Doodle-Doo! The crowing drew me to the other end of the gymnasium. And there they were....cages of chickens and roosters, entertaining all who passed by. Of course they were! We Hot Springs residents can now own up to six back-yard hens.

Our back yard is ready. Bob made sure of that. The hen house, the smaller enclosure and the entire garden is waiting for our two hens, as well as the food, dishes and straw for the laying boxes. We are ready for our grasshopper devourers, healthy, tasty egg-laying hens to settle into our back yard. Did I mention that they also leave great fertilizer?

But, for me, by far, the greatest thing is the meditative experience I always had while living in the country, enjoying the sight of the scratching, clucking and fussing of these wonderful animals. No matter how stressful the day, the sight of these bundles of feathers, calmed me and put me back in touch with the world around me, the world of what really matters in the long run. Chickens renewed my perspective, much as yoga, massage or other meditative practices.

Cluck, cluck, scratch, scratch, fuss, fuss. Stress will swiftly disappear. All I have to do is spend some time in our own back yard.

Horses, Firewood and Wisdom

The horses were racing across the TV screen, tails flying, followed by a cloud of dust. They were beautiful sight and I sat for a moment when I came home from work to join my father in his afternoon viewing.

"Dad", I wondered aloud, "Why don't you have the sound on for the movie?"

"I don't care anything about the movie. I just love watching the horses gallop across the prairie."

My father had made his home with us a few months before and with all of the commotion of moving to a house that would accommodate him smoothly into our lives, we had not noticed that his diminished hearing had interfered with his TV watching. Most of his day he read. He read all the magazines and newspapers we had and all the books I could borrow from the library. Each evening at the dinner table he would share what he had learned that day from his reading or TV.

"I visited China today", he would begin. Then he related something he had picked up from the Discovery channel. His world continued to grow from his living room chair, reading or traveling through TV, the travel he could never afford during his lifetime.

Bob and I had carefully purchased a house in a neighborhood filled with retirees and close to his church and stores that he would enjoy browsing during his daily walks. The house had large windows for light that we read was very important for the elderly, and a bedroom and bathroom on the first floor. While living in the north woods my father's favorite hobby was cutting trees for firewood. Because we lived in the Twin Cities, we had a large load of firewood hauled into our back yard so that my father could spend his days sawing and piling wood and moving smaller amounts into the house for daily cold-weather use in our fireplace. We also chose a fenced in back yard to shelter his small dog that I had brought to him when he still lived in northern Minnesota to keep him company after my mother died.

Dad move in a summer before his 87th birthday. He took his daily walks down the alley with his dog, greeting all of the neighbors, and then he would go back to our back yard and tend to his daily chores of cutting the wood. In the afternoon, after his nap, he would read, then turn on the TV, switching the channel to "Little House on the Prairie" when his granddaughter came home from school. The only time he did not adjust his schedule for her was during baseball season when he had to watch his beloved Twins team practice and play games. One year during their Spring practice in Florida he announced confidently when I came home from work, "The Twins are going to win the series this year!" And they did, and we celebrated with him, Homer Hankies and all.

Bob hooked up Dad's TV with headphones so that he could enjoy sound and the rest of us did not get blasted when we arrived home. During the years he lived with us the volume on his set gradually increased as his hearing decreased, but he did manage to not only watch his beloved horses in old westerns, but he could once more hear the sound of galloping, neighing and snorting.

Each year as we noticed the volume on the TV increasing, the sound of the chain saw decreased. During his first years with us, he cut, sawed and hauled, while keeping the fireplace burning all day and night during the cold spells. In his final years he still worked to keep the fireplace throwing heat during the day hours. In his last year the fireplace lay cold and dark except for the holidays when Bob had time to get it glowing for our holiday gatherings.

My father took pride in work and contributing to the household. He took his turn cooking meals when he first moved in with us. As his health weakened, along with his hearing, he fretted that he was becoming a burden, no matter how much we said to the contrary. He brought joy and love into our lives and until his death, he continued to share his wisdom through his stories of the past, his viewpoints of the present and his hopes for the future.

What great gifts he gave to our family! His uplifting spirit, positive attitude and forward-looking outlook will always be a part of us. Not long before he died he said, "I want to keep on living because I wonder what will happen next."

He lived through incredible changes during his 92 years. At times he struggled briefly with them, but for the most part he embraced the new advancements. As I grow older his words continue to inspire me. Today Bob and I live in the West where the horses are a common sight. I feel a quick tinge of regret that he did not live to see them in all their glory, in real time. Whenever I look at horses grazing in a field, I remember, and I am grateful. I am grateful for my life and warm memories of my father.

"Death by a Thousand Cuts"

Our VA continues to dwindle. The cutting continues while ads on TV state that the government cares. "Please call. Get help, etc., etc."

Let me count the ways.....We had 7 primary physicians in 1998, while today we have 2, soon to be zero, zilch, Nada. One is retiring and one is being forced out. Neither will be replaced. In the past we had 17 pharmacists. Today, far less. We had 3 psychiatrists. Today we have none. Is it any wonder that veterans kill themselves from lack of proper monitoring of their drug usage?

For over 100 years we have housed the South Dakota State Veterans Home for retired veterans. Today they are improving it so our veterans can live out their years in the peaceful serenity of the southern Black Hills. One advantage for our veterans was the use of our VA across the town for most of their medical needs. Now these veterans are told that they can no longer have use of the VA hospital since they no longer have the personnel to service them. Of course, they don't have the staff since they have been making cuts for the past years.

The VA made many promises they continue to un-make. One of their promises was to keep the VA at full capacity until after the EIS study was complete. It is not completed but they continue to deplete the resources.

Promise after promise is ignored, while they continue to make the cuts. Our veterans have to travel further and further to receive medical care. Oh, yes, the VA said they could receive help at our local hospital. We are all aware about that decision. Some veterans will go there with costs to the hospital that they will not be able to absorb. The VA can treat for less cost. Eventually the local guys will have to refuse the veterans without private insurance or Medicare/Medicaid because they will not be able to afford their care. In addition, most of our veterans do not wish to go to a non-VA hospital.

Let me get this straight.....our men and women served our country with one of the benefits being life-time health care. Okay, the government says they will continue to honor that promise in large city VA facilities, or in the regular community hospitals. Our veterans from rural areas do not wish to, or cannot  travel to the cities and they do not wish to go to public hospitals, or, in the long run, will not be able to go to them without private insurance.

The rural VA hospitals will continue to vanish, along with the hopes and trust of our veterans. The future is grim for those who served. There are more of us than just the veterans who are losing hope in our VA administration with their distorted data and a stream of broken promises.

Some say that our community is made up of more than 50% veterans. Many moved here because of this extraordinary VA. Many live here because they work at this VA. As cuts are made, more people move away to follow the jobs. Where will the veterans who live here and shun the large cities make their homes?

Does anyone in power in Washington really care? It is long past time for wondering.