For those of you who don't know, I volunteer with the Cedar Valley Humane Society. As a volunteer, I go to the pound each month, select a dog, and take it to a nursing home to interact with the residents.
As I mentioned in a previous post, last month's visit was the worst. I found out that my all-time favorite resident had died. This month's visit, however, was probably my best visit ever, and it almost didn't happen. Upon arriving at the animal shelter, I quickly determined that none of the animals were suited for a visit; they were all to energetic, and I didn't want to risk the chance of a dog jumping up and hurting a resident. As I was preparing to cancel the visit, one of the employees offered to let me take her dog.
The employee, who will remain nameless to protect her anonymity, introduced me to Lola, her one year old teacup chihuahua. Lola was curious, but also very quiet and mellow... a perfect fit for the visit. When I got to the home, I realized quickly that Lola was a good fit. Virtually everyone there was delighted to meet Lola, even people who aren't usually interested in seeing the dogs I bring. They were particularly pleased to be able to hold the pooch, who was completely content to be held and adored by the residents.
I also met a new resident who was absolutely delightful, and we chatted for several minutes. I believe that I am going to greatly enjoy getting to know her. She's an incredibly humble, thankful, charming and happy soul. I was also pleased to see a couple of people who were admitted for short term rehabilitation, and found out that a woman I'd met a couple of months ago will be going home in a day or two. At my last stop, Lola fell asleep in the resident's arms, apparently exhausted from all of the attention she received.
Though not all visits are fun per se, they are all very rewarding, and today's visit will remain in my memory for a long time to come. It was a welcome contrast to last month's visit. I would like to extend my heartfelt gratitude to the anonymous employee at the Humane Society who so generously allowed me to take her baby.
Wednesday, May 18, 2016
Thursday, May 12, 2016
LGBTQ Movement Seeks to Add Another Letter
Sarah Ellis, the CEO of GLAAD (Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation), has announced a campaign to add another letter from the alphabet to the LGBTQ (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer) movement's collection. Ellis was quoted as saying "Over the years, we in the LGBTQ movement have made tremendous strides in gaining acceptance in society. We are firmly convinced that a large portion of this success is our own policy of inclusiveness regarding letters of the alphabet."
Ellis went on to note that the movement stayed in relative obscurity until they added 'Q' to the mix. "With this in mind," she said "X is an early favorite to add to the collection. There seems to be a consensus that the letter X is representative of the LGBTQ community as a whole."
"Though it's 1/26th of the alphabet, it's almost never used, and it's among the last letters," one aide said during the press release. "We want to raise the profile of X and promote inclusiveness," the employee continued, "but there are a couple of dark horse entries, such as A and K because we haven't yet included a vowel, and we haven't added an average letter. Eventually, we hope to include all 26 letters, and we may even move on to the Greek alphabet."
A final decision on which letter to add is expected later this year.
Ellis went on to note that the movement stayed in relative obscurity until they added 'Q' to the mix. "With this in mind," she said "X is an early favorite to add to the collection. There seems to be a consensus that the letter X is representative of the LGBTQ community as a whole."
"Though it's 1/26th of the alphabet, it's almost never used, and it's among the last letters," one aide said during the press release. "We want to raise the profile of X and promote inclusiveness," the employee continued, "but there are a couple of dark horse entries, such as A and K because we haven't yet included a vowel, and we haven't added an average letter. Eventually, we hope to include all 26 letters, and we may even move on to the Greek alphabet."
A final decision on which letter to add is expected later this year.
Wednesday, April 20, 2016
Volunteering Isn't Always Easy
For those of you who don't know, I volunteer with the local Humane Society. Each month, I choose a dog, and take it to a local care center to interact with the residents. Over the years, I've gotten to know some of the residents, and have come to look forward to my monthly visit. Today, I found out that my all-time favorite resident, Cindy, passed away.
The first time I met Cindy, she was in a motorized wheelchair, sitting quietly in her room, watching TV. When I walked into the room with the dog, her face lit up with a great, beautiful smile. She had a very difficult time talking, but managed to ask me a few questions about the dog... it's name, age, breed, gender and so forth. Her body was giving out on her, but her mind and her spirit were indomitable, and I quickly became fond of her.
Over the next who-knows-how-many months, I got to know her more and more. In the grand scheme of things, I didn't know her as well as her long time friends, but that didn't matter. We always took some time to chat about nothing. I remember one time in particular, I noticed that she had mud all over the wheels of her wheelchair. I asked her if she'd been off-roading in the chair. She grinned, laughed and said "Yeah."
I said something along the lines of "Keep it under control, you know that thing's not a Jeep," and she laughed some more. It was wonderful, bringing some humor to her day. The next visit, I brought her a bumper sticker that said "Jeep Girl," which she had affixed to the back of her wheelchair.
In another visit, I met her husband, who was visiting with her. I introduced myself as "the guy who flirts with your wife when you're not around," and we all smiled and laughed... Cindy especially. Her husband knew that I was ever-so-slightly serious, but took things in stride. He knew who Cindy loved.
There were several months during this time that I didn't get to see Cindy, because she was out and about on field trips with her husband, or with other residents from the care center. Every time that happened, I had mixed feelings. I was a bit disappointed that I didn't get to see my favorite resident, but was also happy that she was getting out and about.
A couple of months ago, she got a computer that helped her speak, kind of like what Stephen Hawking has. Oddly enough, I was there for a visit a day or two after she got it. Cindy was definitely excited about the idea of the machine, but she still spoke to me directly. Next month was the same thing. I asked her if it had the same voice as Stephen Hawking's machine, and she told me that it had a woman's voice. I threatened to change the voice to Barry White while she wasn't paying attention, and we had another grand laugh about that.
Over the months, we developed a friendship. I always spent a little more time with her than the other residents, and somewhere along the line, she was happy to see me... I was no longer just the guy who brought the dogs. Her room was the last room in the rotation, and it was great to end the visit with her.
As today's visit came to the end, I was once again looking forward to seeing Cindy. I was quite surprised to see someone else in Cindy's room. On the way back, I asked Chris, the activities director, if Cindy had gone home. "She passed away," he replied. I almost cried. I've almost cried several times between then and now.
When I decided to do this volunteer work, I knew that I would get attached to a few residents, and I knew that I would be sad upon hearing that some of them had passed. It was, and still is, my firm belief that my sadness in these instances is insignificant compared to the happiness that I can potentially bring the residents during my monthly visits.
That doesn't make today's news suck any less.
The first time I met Cindy, she was in a motorized wheelchair, sitting quietly in her room, watching TV. When I walked into the room with the dog, her face lit up with a great, beautiful smile. She had a very difficult time talking, but managed to ask me a few questions about the dog... it's name, age, breed, gender and so forth. Her body was giving out on her, but her mind and her spirit were indomitable, and I quickly became fond of her.
Over the next who-knows-how-many months, I got to know her more and more. In the grand scheme of things, I didn't know her as well as her long time friends, but that didn't matter. We always took some time to chat about nothing. I remember one time in particular, I noticed that she had mud all over the wheels of her wheelchair. I asked her if she'd been off-roading in the chair. She grinned, laughed and said "Yeah."
I said something along the lines of "Keep it under control, you know that thing's not a Jeep," and she laughed some more. It was wonderful, bringing some humor to her day. The next visit, I brought her a bumper sticker that said "Jeep Girl," which she had affixed to the back of her wheelchair.
In another visit, I met her husband, who was visiting with her. I introduced myself as "the guy who flirts with your wife when you're not around," and we all smiled and laughed... Cindy especially. Her husband knew that I was ever-so-slightly serious, but took things in stride. He knew who Cindy loved.
There were several months during this time that I didn't get to see Cindy, because she was out and about on field trips with her husband, or with other residents from the care center. Every time that happened, I had mixed feelings. I was a bit disappointed that I didn't get to see my favorite resident, but was also happy that she was getting out and about.
A couple of months ago, she got a computer that helped her speak, kind of like what Stephen Hawking has. Oddly enough, I was there for a visit a day or two after she got it. Cindy was definitely excited about the idea of the machine, but she still spoke to me directly. Next month was the same thing. I asked her if it had the same voice as Stephen Hawking's machine, and she told me that it had a woman's voice. I threatened to change the voice to Barry White while she wasn't paying attention, and we had another grand laugh about that.
Over the months, we developed a friendship. I always spent a little more time with her than the other residents, and somewhere along the line, she was happy to see me... I was no longer just the guy who brought the dogs. Her room was the last room in the rotation, and it was great to end the visit with her.
As today's visit came to the end, I was once again looking forward to seeing Cindy. I was quite surprised to see someone else in Cindy's room. On the way back, I asked Chris, the activities director, if Cindy had gone home. "She passed away," he replied. I almost cried. I've almost cried several times between then and now.
When I decided to do this volunteer work, I knew that I would get attached to a few residents, and I knew that I would be sad upon hearing that some of them had passed. It was, and still is, my firm belief that my sadness in these instances is insignificant compared to the happiness that I can potentially bring the residents during my monthly visits.
That doesn't make today's news suck any less.
Friday, March 11, 2016
My Witty Daughter
My younger daughter amused me greatly today with a phone call...
"Dad?"
"Yeah, kid."
"Did you name your bike yet," she asked, referring to the Harley Ultra Classic I bought last fall?
"No, why?"
"I think you should name it Caitlyn."
"Why?"
"Well, I think your bike is female, but it's still got balls."
"Dad?"
"Yeah, kid."
"Did you name your bike yet," she asked, referring to the Harley Ultra Classic I bought last fall?
"No, why?"
"I think you should name it Caitlyn."
"Why?"
"Well, I think your bike is female, but it's still got balls."
A Personal Message to SCM
S,
I'm sorry you're hurting. What he did to you was unacceptable, and there is no excuse. You deserve better. When it comes to relationships, I can't think of anything worse than infidelity. The physical betrayal is bad enough... wondering why you aren't enough... thinking that you could or should have done something different or better. The emotional betrayal is worse. You loved and trusted, and he broke that trust. You have every right to be furious. Unfortunately for him, you're particularly spiteful when you are scorned.
For what it's worth, I think you're a good woman, and I'd like to remind you, in case nobody else has, that his actions are about him, not you. This isn't your shortcoming or failure, it's his issue. Try to keep this in mind. I also want to mention that you have the power to forgive. I know that you just cringed inside when you read those words. If you had a mouth full of coffee, you probably spit it all over your computer monitor, but hear me out. I'm not going to say exactly what you expect me to say.
Yes, it's true that you can look past his deception and attempt to work things out. I also know that doing so wouldn't be easy. You and I have had more than one conversation during our long friendship where you've caught him telling you grave lies. I know this is one more in a series of breaches of trust. My point in saying that you have the power to forgive is to make sure that you know that walking away isn't your only option.
To be clear, I suspect that you've already thought about this and have made a conscious decision that you've had enough, and decided that ending things is the least objectionable option available. Running with this assumption, please know that I support you. Please know that I'm here...
I'm sorry you're hurting. What he did to you was unacceptable, and there is no excuse. You deserve better. When it comes to relationships, I can't think of anything worse than infidelity. The physical betrayal is bad enough... wondering why you aren't enough... thinking that you could or should have done something different or better. The emotional betrayal is worse. You loved and trusted, and he broke that trust. You have every right to be furious. Unfortunately for him, you're particularly spiteful when you are scorned.
For what it's worth, I think you're a good woman, and I'd like to remind you, in case nobody else has, that his actions are about him, not you. This isn't your shortcoming or failure, it's his issue. Try to keep this in mind. I also want to mention that you have the power to forgive. I know that you just cringed inside when you read those words. If you had a mouth full of coffee, you probably spit it all over your computer monitor, but hear me out. I'm not going to say exactly what you expect me to say.
Yes, it's true that you can look past his deception and attempt to work things out. I also know that doing so wouldn't be easy. You and I have had more than one conversation during our long friendship where you've caught him telling you grave lies. I know this is one more in a series of breaches of trust. My point in saying that you have the power to forgive is to make sure that you know that walking away isn't your only option.
To be clear, I suspect that you've already thought about this and have made a conscious decision that you've had enough, and decided that ending things is the least objectionable option available. Running with this assumption, please know that I support you. Please know that I'm here...
Saturday, March 5, 2016
Tax Exemption for Churches?
I've been reading a lot of posts on Facebook that advocate removing tax exemption from churches, ostensibly because Christianity teaches that homosexuality is a sin. After seriously pondering the idea for a while, I've decided that I respectfully disagree.
I'm going to start by reminding you all that I am a Christian. I frequently make missteps in my walk with God, but I try to consistently follow Christ's teachings. I also acknowledge that The Bible unequivocally calls homosexuality a sin, but quite frankly, this is a tenet of my religion with which I struggle. I understand that homosexuality is a sin according to doctrine, but when I observe the behavior of the few gays I know, I don't see them as morally inferior. In fact, my experience is that most LGBTs exhibit compassion and kindness far above what I witness in society at large. I also stipulate that some in the Christian community do not agree with my acceptance of gays. In the end, however, I believe that Christianity's spotty record on homosexuality doesn't warrant revoking their tax exempt status.
I personally donate to my church. How much isn't really relevant, but I will say that I give generously. I have seen my church use this money to directly impact my community, and know that my funds make a difference globally. Each week, people come to my church in distress. I'm not talking about parishioners, I'm referring to ordinary folks who are truly desperate and don't know where else to turn. We have provided food. We have donated clothing. We have given shelter in the form of paying for hotel rooms. We have sponsored a village in Africa, where we have paid to build a well and provided funds to start a pineapple farm. We have built multiple homes in Guatemala. We help the truly destitute. Last week we provided a car to a random family whose car engine blew on the way home from a funeral. We help young women who decide to keep their unexpected children.
My church is not without its moral failings. There are those in my own congregation who unequivocally condemn homosexuality. Others condemn abortion, and would undoubtedly treat the would-be mother as a murder. I suspect that my entire church community commits at least one of the seven deadly sins from time to time. My pastors have repeatedly said that they will resign if ever they are forced to officiate a gay marriage. At the same time, these same pastors do not outright reject a person simply based on sexual orientation. The congregation at large does not turn away a soul simply because of an abortion.
My overarching point is that we are not perfect, but we do a lot of good in our community, and in our world. We act on Christ's teachings of love and compassion. If my church were to lose its tax exempt status, we would be far less equipped to do this good, because a large portion of the money we channel to helping our community, our nation, and our world, would instead be sent to the government. I would like to think that most churches -- nay, most religious organizations -- in our country are founded and act on similar principles. With this in mind, I ask that those who want to revoke tax exemption for churches to reconsider their stance.
I'm going to start by reminding you all that I am a Christian. I frequently make missteps in my walk with God, but I try to consistently follow Christ's teachings. I also acknowledge that The Bible unequivocally calls homosexuality a sin, but quite frankly, this is a tenet of my religion with which I struggle. I understand that homosexuality is a sin according to doctrine, but when I observe the behavior of the few gays I know, I don't see them as morally inferior. In fact, my experience is that most LGBTs exhibit compassion and kindness far above what I witness in society at large. I also stipulate that some in the Christian community do not agree with my acceptance of gays. In the end, however, I believe that Christianity's spotty record on homosexuality doesn't warrant revoking their tax exempt status.
I personally donate to my church. How much isn't really relevant, but I will say that I give generously. I have seen my church use this money to directly impact my community, and know that my funds make a difference globally. Each week, people come to my church in distress. I'm not talking about parishioners, I'm referring to ordinary folks who are truly desperate and don't know where else to turn. We have provided food. We have donated clothing. We have given shelter in the form of paying for hotel rooms. We have sponsored a village in Africa, where we have paid to build a well and provided funds to start a pineapple farm. We have built multiple homes in Guatemala. We help the truly destitute. Last week we provided a car to a random family whose car engine blew on the way home from a funeral. We help young women who decide to keep their unexpected children.
My church is not without its moral failings. There are those in my own congregation who unequivocally condemn homosexuality. Others condemn abortion, and would undoubtedly treat the would-be mother as a murder. I suspect that my entire church community commits at least one of the seven deadly sins from time to time. My pastors have repeatedly said that they will resign if ever they are forced to officiate a gay marriage. At the same time, these same pastors do not outright reject a person simply based on sexual orientation. The congregation at large does not turn away a soul simply because of an abortion.
My overarching point is that we are not perfect, but we do a lot of good in our community, and in our world. We act on Christ's teachings of love and compassion. If my church were to lose its tax exempt status, we would be far less equipped to do this good, because a large portion of the money we channel to helping our community, our nation, and our world, would instead be sent to the government. I would like to think that most churches -- nay, most religious organizations -- in our country are founded and act on similar principles. With this in mind, I ask that those who want to revoke tax exemption for churches to reconsider their stance.
Tuesday, February 23, 2016
Back On (the) Track
Last week I started hitting the gym again. It was the first time in three to four months that I've gone, and I've got to say I missed it. The reason I stopped going was pretty simple... injuries. I had back to back to back injuries. This getting old stuff sucks! In all honesty, I wasn't quite as faithful about my exercise routing as I could have been shortly before this health-induced hiatus, but I'm ready to get back into the swing of things.
Before this gap in exercise, I had hoped that I could get in good enough shape that I could pull off a First Class Marine Corps Physical Fitness Test in the 18 year old age bracket. I never did achieve that goal. In fact, I kind of doubt that I will ever make that goal... at least not with my simple three weekly gym visits. I suspect I could achieve the milestone if I became a true gym rat, but I don't see that happening. I will say this though... it's a bit sobering to see how much progress I've lost due to this time away from the gym. I'm going to have to work my way back to a First Class PFT for my own age bracket, and it's going to be a long haul, because one of my injuries was a stress fracture to my foot, so I can't yet run three miles, much less make the distance within the time limit.
Oh well... baby steps. Wish me success.
Before this gap in exercise, I had hoped that I could get in good enough shape that I could pull off a First Class Marine Corps Physical Fitness Test in the 18 year old age bracket. I never did achieve that goal. In fact, I kind of doubt that I will ever make that goal... at least not with my simple three weekly gym visits. I suspect I could achieve the milestone if I became a true gym rat, but I don't see that happening. I will say this though... it's a bit sobering to see how much progress I've lost due to this time away from the gym. I'm going to have to work my way back to a First Class PFT for my own age bracket, and it's going to be a long haul, because one of my injuries was a stress fracture to my foot, so I can't yet run three miles, much less make the distance within the time limit.
Oh well... baby steps. Wish me success.
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