The Wait Is Over

 We've been waiting a long time for rain in California. A very, very long time that brought several years of firestorms and destruction of hillsides. The fires all have names and they all caused loss of life, serious injury and catastrophic damage.

Throughout America, there has been a long wait for new leadership. A long wait, through terrorist attacks, economic decline, job outsourcing and downsizing, political scandal and intrigue. Each crisis has a name and they caused some level of deprivation that affected many or all of us.

One year ago a new administration took office in Washington, D.C. Two days ago a week of storms descended upon California. The waits were over but the results are not all that we want. We have seen a year of economic surgeries that were supposed to reinvigorate the housing and job markets, and rein in excess on Wall Street. We have seen the attacks by pirates, kidnappings of our citizens overseas, actual and attempted attacks on our homeland.

No amount of wishing is going to change what's happened. The clock won't turn back and the bell won't be unrung. We have seen some of our worst fears and some of our pretty bad fears come to pass. We have a lot of issues and problems to deal with, and we'll likely have more before we're satisfied that we have the change we want. So are we going to continue to point fingers, shout out loud, talk trash and fan flames with rhetoric and rambling? Are we going to wrap ourselves around ourselves and only worry about the nose on our face and the faces in our houses? Are we going to wait for 'someone' to fix everything? Are we going to continue to travel on 'More of the Same Road'?

I hope not. I hope that we will inhale, exhale and think about the criticisms that we want to level against the other party or the other side. Let's be real: if all of America's problems were solved by President Obama in the first twelve months of his administration, there would be murmurs of sorcery and calls for warlock commissions. The view from inside the job has to be decidedly different and a bit more realistic than when you're trying to get the job. You can't appoint only the people that agree with you (and he didn't want to), you don't get to select who sits in both houses of Congress (you can campaign for some, but no guarantee that they will win), and you don't get to turn out the lights and lock up the store for the night (even if it is a really nice store to live above). You get a 24/7/365 preoccupation that will test all of your skills and all of your patience. Remember the classic line from "Jaws"? 'Just when you think it's safe to go back in the water…' with the music building to a scary crescendo, and then came that shark that wouldn't die until the theater lights came up.

We have serious days ahead and we have serious issues to address as-a-nation. Sitting back doesn't work anymore for us as citizens. Who besides your immediate circle should know how you feel about the performance of your elected officials – the people who work for us? Answer: those same elected officials should hear how you feel from the time they take office until the time of the next election! You may or may not get the answer that you want, but your communication will remind them that you are paying attention to their performance. Just as your performance is evaluated by your boss or supervisor, elected representatives should know how their performance is rated by the people. But don't stop with communicating with those representatives: do something yourself to help make a situation better. Everyone has some skill to contribute to resolving problems. And here's a novel but not original thought: you can team up with people of different parties and positions to work for a common cause. The exchange of ideas leads to solutions faster than the exchange of insults. Don't quit if you don't prevail with your point or idea, keep expressing your ideas. Talking to each other is what's most important, not the size of the words or the smoothness of the speech. Dialogue is what counts and you have to be in the conversation to be in the game.

A very wise man named Stan Bush put it like this: "…It's really not about 'them'. It's about us…'We the people'. If WE continue to do what we've done for 200+ years, we will continue to be divided. We must not let parties and race (be) the deciding factor. After all, when the guy hits the winning home run in the World Series, or scores the winning TD in the Super Bowl…Nobody on the winning team really cares about his race or politics. They are just glad that their team won. We need a team."

Healthcare  for our citizens is still too important to ignore. The economy and workforce, housing and homelessness, education and national security have to be addressed. The team roster isn't closed, but the clock is ticking. Game on!

Major Clifford L. Patterson, Jr.: In Loving Memory

These words and images have been playing in my head since September 15, 2001 when my mother called with the news that my cousin was among the missing at the Pentagon.

Our grandmothers were the linchpins. His grandmother was the older sister; my grandmother was the baby of the family. We are part of a blended family and not related biologically. His branch of the family tree was rooted in the D.C. area, and mine in New York. He was twelve years younger than me. He was so close to one of his sisters that our family always spoke of the two in the same breath, saying their names as one. They would come to New York with their grandmother to visit my grandparents, not frequently, but they stepped into the rhythms of the house easily and cheerfully. They were polite, smart, affectionate, helpful and well-mannered. They celebrated America’s bicentennial anniversary with us in New York, and we cheered at the fireworks displays in Manhattan that we watched on television, sprawled in the living room floor as our grandparents and other relatives talked and visited the weeks away.

I remember that he had a broken arm that summer, and had to write with his left hand. The day before they returned home, he carefully wrote his and his sister’s names in my address book so that I could keep my promise to write to them when I went back to college. He politely refused any help, because he wanted to do it by himself and he did, and we kept our promises to write to each other during that school year.

He loved his parents, was a wonderful son, brother, grandson and friend. He was everyone’s friend, always happy to help someone else. He grew up, went to college and enlisted in the Army, as his father had. He was a good student in and out of the classroom. He was always prepared. He married and had two sons. He loved his wife and sons with all of the passion and devotion that he possessed. He cooked meals, bathed the children, took them to daycare. He was there for his wife. He was an usher in his church, greeting all who came through the doors. He loved to ride his motorcycle. He made the Army his career, as his father had. He was a Ranger. His last assignment was at the Pentagon, where his father served until his retirement. He was on the promotion list.

His office cubicle was in the direct path of Flight 77. His remains were identified nearly two weeks after the attack. His promotion was posthumously awarded after he was officially listed as a casualty. His grave in Arlington looks at the Pentagon. His father was grace under fire, holding it together for his family, honoring his fallen son and all of the other victims of that day. He gave the updates, broke the news, and did the unthinkable for a parent, burying his child, the son who wanted to be just like him when he grew up, the child who lived out his dream, the child who loved so much. The son who lived thirty-three years, like the Carpenter of Nazareth.

So for eight years these thoughts and images and words have been everywhere that I have been. Through the tears, prayers, swollen eyes, the aching heart and the anger. While clutching the telephone book with his careful handwriting from an innocent summer. While holding on to hope for another day, another newscast, another ring of the telephone. While wondering how, why, why??

Today his Commander-in-Chief will lay a wreath at the Pentagon to honor him and the 183 other souls who perished there. He would have been so proud to be in the Army today, to tell his sons that preparation, diligence and faith will take you far in life. I believe the President would be honored to know him.

We lost so many with so much promise. We will never be the same as before that Tuesday morning. I pray that each victim’s family holds onto the loving memories and can feel a gentle caress today, tomorrow and forever. I pray that we as Americans will take more than a moment today to thank the first responders that we see, for being ready to protect each of us. Thank the military personnel that we see, for being ready. Think of the military personnel around the world who are protecting our commitment to freedom and justice. Thank the veterans that we see, for their contributions to freedom and justice. Love our family before we leave home; love our family when we come back. Love is the most valuable, the most important, the most precious possession that we have. Don’t squander it or hoard it. Love of family, love of country, love of God.

Thank you to the families of Flight 175, Flight 11, Flight 93 and Flight 77. Thank you to the first responders and their families. Thank you to all who gave of themselves because of that Tuesday morning.

Thank you to a little boy who grew up to be a wonderful man, husband, father, brother, son and friend. A loyal soldier who lived out his dream. My hero.

                                                                                                                                                                    
The Window Seat by Karen Caffee is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
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Who's Doing The Most?

Thursday, September 2, 2009

Some people are outraged about the comments made on a conservative blog about the Obama children. Okay, you're outraged. The Carter, Clinton and Bush (41) children were all criticized or scrutinized while living in the White House. Their parents raised them in spite of the nasty things that people said about them, and they have survived. It doesn't make it right. It's disgusting, but it's the game. Honestly, did anyone really expect less from these 'patriots'? America was built on a divide and conquer, I-am-better-than-you mentality. There's no outrage in having to read about these insults in a Canadian paper - the outrage is that the WORLD recognizes what we won't, which is that America still can't get past race.

These people aren't mad that Malia Obama wore a peace t-shirt; they're mad that her father is leading an adminstration that is doing its damnedest to get us out of the holes that the ol' boys dropped us into! They are mad that her parents don't have holes in their characters and that they are received and regarded with grace, dignity and courtesy by world leaders. They are mad because the face of America no longer looks like "them". They should get over themselves.

The old folks used to talk about the "nice-nasty" ways of some white people when it came to black people. Not just the 'whites only' and the backs of the bus and the building, but putting things down so they wouldn't have to touch you. Addressing you out of your name or in the third person. The old people would also say things like don't go to sleep on your enemy, and it's better to know your enemy outright than to think someone likes you. We might not know the cyber-bigots by name, but we know they exist. There's no rule that you have to be smart to use a computer, or that you have to have to post facts instead of basura.

I would be willing to bet a dollar against a very large bucket of fertilizer that the posters who spewed racial slurs against the Obama children on that blog would suffer from terminal lockjaw if given the opportunity to stand face to face with President Barack Obama and say those same things to him. Freedom of speech allowed them to post that garbage. Let them try that in China, or Iran.

http://www.urbandictionary.com/ offers one definition of 'doing the most' as
"Trying way too hard to be impressive but only causing self-embarrassment." Fits better than a t-shirt!

If you want to throw rocks and hide your hand, and keep on with the insults and lies, knock yourself out. The rest of us will engage in adult discussions about what we can do to help put our country on solid footing, and then we'll put the plans into play. While you're doing the most, we'll be doing our best.


                                                                                                                                                                
The Window Seat by Karen Caffee is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
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The power of lemonade as demonstrated by a courageous little girl

Karen Caffee's 'Lemonade to KO Cancer' - Alex's Lemonade Stand Foundation

September is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. "Oprah" viewers may remember the story about the little girl who wanted to raise money to help find a cure for childhood cancer, and how her one lemonade stand sparked a fundraising movement that has become her legacy. Alex united cancer patients, cancer survivors, parents, friends, neighbors, strangers and businesses to become a part of the solution by having cup of lemonade. She started with one stand that she worked, and now the movement includes virtual stands (such as mine).

You can find many ways to help cancer patients, by volunteering in hospitals or care centers, working with support groups, advocating for cancer research with elected leadership or raising funds for research and treatment. So today I am offering to you and asking you to support this virtual lemonade stand to help beat childhood cancer. Think of your online donation as the jab, the right cross or the left hook that may be the knockout punch, one virtual cup at a time. 

There is an angel in heaven whose wings are made from lemonade, courage and love. Thanks, Alex for showing us how simple it is to help.

PS: please be sure that you click on the lemon next to 'Donate' in order for your donation to be registered with my stand. And be sure to go to the homepage and read Alex's story.

                                                                                                                                                                        
The Window Seat by Karen Caffee is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
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Firefighters and All First Responders Deserve Our Respect and Support

Two firefighters lost their lives yesterday in the Station Fire in Southern California. The circumstances of their deaths are still being investigated, but they died while performing their duties. My prayers and condolences go out to their families and their comrades. Other responders airlifted burn victims - who did not follow evacuation orders and tried to wait out the fire - in an outdoor hot tub - to area hospitals for treatment.

As devastating as it must be to wonder if your house will survive or fall victim to a fire, how much more so devastating must it be to receive the notification that your loved one did not survive because they did not evacuate in time, or tried to rescue someone who did not evacuate in time?

First responders - police, firefighters, paramedics, EMTs, sheriff deputies, highway patrol officers, military - report to work prepared to leave it all on the line. Their families watch them go to work with that knowledge, but wait for them to come back home. Things can be replaced - a home, furniture, clothing, jewels, cars - but have you ever seen any responder's family go and pick up a replacement for their loved one at a store in the mall??  Whether fire, hurricane, tornado, flood -- don't place others in jeopardy by staying too long in the danger zone. They are responders. They should not have to become victims.

www.flickr.com/photos/lafd/  Please, just think about it. And while you are thinking about it, think of the families of the lost firefighters, and all of the responders in and out of our country who are ready to leave it out there for all of us.


                                                                                                                                                                    
The Window Seat by Karen Caffee is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
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"Four Days" - thanks and farewell to Senator Edward Kennedy

Saturday, August 29, 2009

Four Days was the title of a hardbound book that chronicled the funeral of President John F. Kennedy in 1963. A small 'coffee table book' that captured the poignant moments from his assassination through his burial. I remember those four days, from the feeling of terror when my third grade teacher Mrs. Lefkowitz told us of the president's death, up through the lighting of the eternal flame. April 4, 1968 - Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s death on the evening of my church's first banquet where the speaker was Rev. Dr. Wyatt Tee Walker, one of Dr. King's aides. Two months later, the death of Senator Robert Kennedy, and we grieved in numbed horror for this man who had been such a rock after Dr. King's passing. All of these memories have surfaced during this summer as we mourned the passing of others (Ed McMahon, Walter Cronkite, Michael Jackson, Eunice Kennedy Shriver among them).

New social networks allow us to share our thoughts while we watch the services, read the reports and try to take it all in. When presidents Reagan and Ford, Mother Rosa Parks and news anchor Peter Jennings died we didn't have this light-speed ability to come together - look how technology has evolved in five years. Awesome and slightly scary!

People including our president have commented that we have had time to prepare for Ted Kennedy's death. That block of time has softened or perhaps, for some, eliminated the shock of his passing on Tuesday. It didn't work that way here. My eight-year-old self remembered my and my classmates' tears and fright after JFK's death. (Our teacher decided to tell us but the other classes did not know until after school was dismissed) My eighth-grade self recalled the fearful pause and prayers during our church banquet when the announcment was made that Dr. King had been wounded, and after Dr. Walker finished his remarks, he led us in prayers for Dr. King's soul, and for his family and for our country. When Bobby Kennedy died, my eighth-grade self wondered if the world had gone crazy and if we were truly all going to die in that same year. We watched the grace and the dignity of the Kings and the Kennedys, and held onto the words of comfort, the prayers and the music. Mahalia Jackson sang at JFK's inauguration and at Dr. King's funeral. We clung tightly to "Precious Lord, Take My Hand" as Mrs. King comforted her youngest daughter.

My adult self remembered the agony of waiting for news about JFK Jr. and his wife and sister-in-law, watching Ted Kennedy lead his family through that crisis. We cried and reminisced about John-John and again watched the grace of this family, held close by the youngest son who had become the patriarch too soon by our emotional standards. Teddy brought his family through those days, and he also brought us through. He was and will be the image of redemption which is defined thus by wiser persons than yours truly, courtesy of wordnetweb.princeton.edu/perl/webwn: [the italics are mine]

                                                                                                                                                              (theology) the act of delivering from sin or saving from evil repayment of the principal amount of a debt or security at or before maturity (as when a corporation repurchases its own stock) the act of purchasing back something previously sold

We talk of people changing their lives, making amends, giving back after a tragedy or wrongdoing. Senator Edward M. Kennedy took his public lashings and he gave back to the American people through his work for over four decades. Whether you like him or loathe some of the things that he did, you cannot deny that he worked hard to make life better for citizens in this country. He didn't seek publicity for what he did, he sought justice and equity for those of us who were not born on the smoother end of the playing field. The Bible charges us to forgive the sins of one another as we ask God to forgive our sins. There are a lot of songs that we sing in church about redemption, restoration, being washed clean from sin. If a man or woman has changed their life, has been delivered of sin or saved from evil, when do we stop trying to beat them into the ground for their past??

Speaker after speaker this week has shared with us their memories of Ted Kennedy, a lot of which we may not have known. This was no act that was put on to fool us. What they spoke about were the actions of a man who sought and found grace. We should all be so fortunate to have friends such as these, to have family such as this. I pray that their memories will keep them warm, bring chuckles and laughs to their lips and smiles to their hearts. That they will draw on those memories when they ask 'what would Teddy do?'

No doubt there will be a coffee-table book about Teddy's life, to join the beautiful autobiography about Nelson Mandela, the inauguration of President Barack Obama, and the countless other books about persons who gave their best efforts, gave their lives to public service. That book will end up in my collection. It is a privilege to live in an age where we can see firsthand the good works of these people.

There is also a self-challenge to try harder, try something else, team up with an opponent to improve life in our country. And there is another challenge - to remember the definition of redemption, to be mindful of our own ledger of accountability. Don't go along with or co-sign wrongdoing, but when the wrong is resolved or corrected, let it go. Move on and move forward. Thank you, Bill Clinton, for looking forward and looking out for the underserved and the unprotected.

As the funeral mass ends, the recessional begins and we hear "America The Beautiful" - now the tears start and I can't sing. The lump in my throat is painful, but I whisper the words. I am proud to be an American, born in this country where my african ancestors were met by my native-american ancestors. I will make the most of this day and my life because I can, WE can all do something to make it better for someone else besides ourselves.

Thank you, Teddy for your determination and courage! You were saved from evil by God's grace. Your debt is stamped 'Paid in Full'. You have gone from labor to reward. Rest in peace.

                                                                                                                                                                
The Window Seat by Karen Caffee is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
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Tenth Day Checkup, and a Four Month Challenge

Today was the ten-day checkup after the heart surgery. It still feels funny to write or say 'surgery' when there are no incisions, staples or sutures, but it is what it is. I love going to my cardiologist's office on the top floor of the medical office tower. He has a nice view of the Hollywood hills, and can look immediately over at the Beverly Center. There are two doctors and two other staff members, and they are all so pleasant. I always feel like I'm too happy/loud when I'm there. Today I sounded loud because I am feeling so well, and his pronouncement (echoing mine) that he fixed the problem was what I have been waiting to hear. The bruising at the catheter sites should be gone soon, and I am now done with the daily baby aspirin, which follows the end of the daily heart pill by two weeks. A nightly cholesterol pill is still on the schedule.

My next cardio appointment is in four months, when we'll see how much weight I have lost. Will I lose 10% of my current weight in order to stop taking the statin, or will I reach my personal goal which is more than that because I miss my high heels and it's time to do this? Is this vanity? Yes, somewhat because I love heels, but most importantly I know when I feel comfortable with my body, and I am out of the comfort zone! I'll have quite a lot to update my primary care internist about during the annual physical (and she'll be looking to see what progress I have made).  And I am looking forward to the next "Go Red For Women Day" in February! 

Before I get to that visit, I'll be stopping in to see a certain downtown hospital's administrators to show them how much better I am thanks to proper emergency room care and a proper diagnosis. And while I'm there, we're going to discuss the outrageous bill that they sent me for letting me sit mostly unattended in their ER for 6.25 hours! Their patient load has apparently doubled after the closing of another South Los Angeles hospital. I fell through the cracks in ER during shift change (what a nurse actually said to me) and fortunately survived to get sick again.

My adventures through the healthcare maze this year have given me plenty of inspiration to speak out daily for national healthcare reform. Sen. Edward Kennedy called it "the cause of my life", and thankfully his passion for this cause translated into coverage and coverage provisions for some that now must be made available to all American citizens. There is no other way for me to describe how I feel besides saying that I know that I am blessed to have medical insurance at this time in my life, and in the life of our country. Too many people are without, people that I know and people that I will never know.

I pray that the discussions among congressional leaders in the wake of Senator Kennedy's passing will lead to effective legislation in this session that can go through both houses of Congress and then to the president's desk. You bet that there needs to be some major action on cleaning out the fraudsters and cheaters in all of the healthcare pipelines; the money lost to fraud alone could have been used to provide coverage to how many citizens before now! Many of us (I know I'm in this group) can start up or step up the exercise routines to improve or maintain our health. The President's Council on Physical Fitness and Sports (http://www.fitness.gov/) has an online Adult Fitness Test. I have not taken the test yet, but it would undoubtedly tell me to hit the gym - already on my updated agenda!

Meanwhile, I raise my sweet tea cup in salute and say a heartfelt 'thank you' to Dr. Arshia Noori and his office, to the wonderful staff at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, to the wonderful staff at Olympia Medical Center who realized that there was a problem in July, and to the Los Angeles Fire Department's rolling angels. The LAFD responders and paramedics realized that I might have big problems and scooped me up twice, and I'd want them on my side any day. They are the bridge many times for underinsured and uninsured in the city. I've seen them in action on a daily basis when I worked on Skid Row (that's a post all by itself). All of these people rose to the call and helped me to get to this tenth-day visit, and for that I am now and will be forever grateful.

I am also grateful to Sen. Kennedy, whose quiet diligence and bipartisan spirit were the impetus that resulted in some of the services and resources that we enjoy today. May he rest in peace. May we continue the work.


                                                                                                                                                                    
The Window Seat by Karen Caffee is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
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