Pearls and Lemons has withered on the vine a bit lately. The Pearls need some polishing and the Lemons are a bit tart. I've been otherwise engaged. Fund-raising. And adjusting my attitude towards life. Again. I'm wrestling with my view of the world. The paradigm shifts like a kaleidoscope. Where it stops nobody knows.
I spent several months planning an event that just didn't seem like it was coming together. I was awake at night for weeks thinking about how to make it work. Lana and I went door to door downtown asking merchants for auction donations. Tickets were not selling. The musician flaked. The people who contacted me to "help" invariably ended up telling me what more I could be doing or how I could do what I was doing better. Thanks so much. Other than that, everything was peachy.
I was going negative at a rapid rate - starting not to care about the cause, even though I believe it's worthy. Allie was home from college and sick with a cough. A nasty, asthmatic cough. I urged her to go to the doctor but she wouldn't. Eventually, after barking like a seal night after night she relented. The doctor, who has treated me, my grandfather, my brother, Eric and my three daughters took care of her. He prescribed a steroid inhaler. When Allie went to pick it up at the pharmacy she was told it cost $170. With insurance. She refused to buy it.
I checked with the doctor's office to see if they had any samples of the inhaler. They called back and told me the doctor had a generic brand of the medicine they could give us. Also, since we live in the same town, he'd drop it off at our house on his way home from work. Eric was away on business and we were talking on the phone when there was a knock. I told him I had to go because our doctor was at the door. Making a house call! The paradigm shifts. The world is a good place. The world is a good place.
That same week Allie attended the funeral of a friend who was brutally murdered by another guy she knew. A guy who stabbed the man sixty-two times. The assailant had already been in prison. There seems to be no justice. Allie started high school by losing someone she'd known since kindergarten to suicide. There have been several other deaths since then. So utterly senseless. The vision gets cloudy again. What sort of world is this?
One of Allie's high school teachers (a gay man) was accused of sexual crimes against a student a few years ago. He lost his job and has been fighting endless legal battles. He is a kind and gentle man and a very competent teacher. Maybe he exercised poor judgment, but we always believed he was innocent - a victim of homophobia.
I was called to jury duty in October. Jury duty makes me feel panicky. I don't like the idea of being stuck in those windowless rooms for an uncertain period of time. This time was no different. I was having major anxiety on the morning I had to report. When I got to the courthouse I realized it was an important case. The jury waiting room was overflowing. It became intriguing. I was in the first group sent down to the courtroom after a laborious security checkpoint. When I got there I understood what all the fuss was about. There was Allie's teacher. He was the defendant. When the charges were read a woman behind me gasped.
I've been called to jury duty many times, but never have been chosen to serve. Someone has always objected to me for being married to a lawyer. Sometimes I object to that myself. This time was different. I knew what I had read in the papers, but I didn't fully grasp the case. I wanted to be on that jury. I felt I could be objective and fair. This was my chance to hear all the facts and use my powers of reasoning. I was willing to serve in the windowless room for weeks and hear all the grisly details so I could help justice prevail. Pick me. Please, pick me. We filled out a twelve page questionnaire. I had to admit that I knew the defendant and twenty of the thirty potential witnesses. About ten days later I got a call telling me my services were not needed.
The trial commenced. It took weeks. Over a thousand jurors were called before the panel was filled. I read about it in the paper and kept meaning to go watch some of the testimony but never did. The verdict was no verdict- a hung jury on all counts and the District Attorney dropped the case. The defense attorney later said the jury was very smart. They did fine without me. The man can begin to rebuild his life. There was a party celebrating his survival of the nightmare. It seemed so unfair and pointless but justice was served in the end, at tremendous cost. More gray area in the paradigm.
Worries about the benefit continued and I sometimes dealt with the stress by taking a long walk in the hills of Sausalito. December mornings were quite cold so one day I wore my favorite red gloves - the ones with shearling that Sally had given me years ago. When walking warmed me up, I took them off and stuck them in my pocket. Back at the car, I discovered one was missing. It made me so sad, but there was no time to do the whole walk again looking for the glove. A week went by and I was really getting nervous about ticket sales and auction items. I hadn't been sleeping well, but forced myself to take the walk again. I kept my eye out for the glove and just before the end I saw it. One week later. Someone had put it on a stone wall for me. I grabbed it and leapt in the air. Yes! I felt like Rocky. Tears streamed down my cheeks and I realized how much worry I'd been carrying. It was a sign - just the sign I needed.
There was another shift. Donations came in. Offers of help surface from unexpected sources. We got a better musician. The momentum was building. I experienced a cautious optimism and found another sign while getting clothes out of the dryer. A small, silver ring with blue stones that said "Believe". I'd never seen it before, but Allie must have lost it before she went back to school. I put that sucker on a chain and wore it every day. It worked. The event was successful. People came. We made money. The party had a great feeling of community.
It's a struggle to know how to think. When the kids were little they would go through phases. During the more challenging stages (aka "bad" ones) I used to resign myself to it being that way forever. Then things would improve and I would be tricked into thinking it would always be thus. Easy. Happy. I would start to believe and there would be another shift- the pendulum never stopping at center very long. Lives taken. Careers and reputations destroyed. A doctor making a house call. Good people doing good things. To paraphrase some Buddhist philosophy - it may not be what we want, but it's what we have.
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