For Tammy...

My sweet friend in the country of the heartland...the seminary teacher for my daughters...1st counselor to my 2nd counselor with Jeni as President of the YW...mad dashes to Chicago...fireball bursts of energy...was NOT afraid of an expletive when the situation called for it...an infectious giggle...carried her new son home from the hospital to hear her phone ringing, telling her she had to bury her other son, drown while saving a friend...STRENGTH, RESILIENCE, CHARITY, WISDOM...we lost you too soon Tamara...tonight, at the same exact time, Jeni in her desert and I here in my desert will hold up a candle to the moon and we will send you our love and our thanks, and to your son Mark, we will send love and strength...and when we were all set apart for that presidency so many years ago, the Bishop said we were forging friendships that would be eternal...I plan on claiming that promise my sweet, funny, brave friend...forever and ever, here and now, on this final day of 2007, I send you off, but our love has wings...and you are FREE.........................................

THIS IS TRIPPY!!!

Is anyone out there viewing their blog in 3D? I realize that the question sounds odd...I'm used to that...but everything in my blog is in 3D...the photos are jumping out a little bit in front of the captions...anyone? anyone?

What's your resolution?

Does anyone have any resolutions for 2008 yet? I'm still contemplating mine...I'm certain they'll be spiritual...perhaps one will be healthy...I don't want to overload myself with "do-gooding"....too fatiguing...so I'm just wondering what everyone else is planning...some oddball ideas:

*no longer typing the letter "r"

*only making left hand turns with my car

*putting socks and shoes on the left foot first, and THEN do the right foot.

*perfect my Christopher Walken impersonation.

thanks. me out.

I'm Dreaming of a Sandy Christmas

Yes, here in the desert I'm experiencing a windy blast of sand...I just got my car's annual detailing performed 48 hours ago, so the sandstorm is right on schedule...goodbye new paint finish...pretty, blackened tires...so long clean windows and clear crevices...HELLO sandy Christmas...big ecru drifts of those sandy grains of silica, collecting on the window panes and scratching one's lenses, tickling the nose and gritting one's teeth...ho ho ho indeed...

But, on a lighter note...actually, that was a pretty light note for me, a little sarcastic, but I was smiling when I typed it...really...I think I'm purt near finished with the big item stuff for Christmas...yay yay...being me, I'm having everything drop-shipped and delivered to doorsteps, so my santa claus wears brown and drives a big square brown truck...go Brown Santa go!!! I even have some wrapped for Peter under the tree...and by "under the tree" I mean on the dining room table because Buddha would try to eat the packages...on Saturday, Peter and I get to go shopping for stocking stuffers for the missionaries and Gia and get treats for the puppers, as well as groceries for the Christmas dinner...and I'm certain Peter will come up with ideas to cook and anonymously deliver to others over the course of the holiday weekend...my life...flowing in the River Leighton...just grab a floating branch and hang on, if you survive the ride, it's the time of your life.

"Ello friends...your assistance por favor?

http://kevan.org/johari?name=debkatz

I have discovered the "Johari Window", thanks to a E-friend in Stratford, CT. Would my friends please be kind enough to go to the above address and just quickly click the 5 or 6 words that describe me...please remain anonymous...and thx so much...I'm just curious...the info for these is at the website iffin' you wanna try for yourselves...thx again...

Today at Church...

So, today at Church I was sitting with Gia, my friend who is 91 (not 93 as I posted in a prior entry...my bad). We were sitting in the 2nd row due to her failing eye sight and only 40% hearing in one ear, the other ear totally deaf. The husband of my good friend Kitty, his name is Joel, had to ask me a question about a lesson I taught last week as we take turns teaching the Gospel Essentials class. Gia and I were sitting on the end of the pew on the aisle. Joel knelt down on the aisle on one knee and began talking to me as I was sitting there. Gia, not hearing what he was saying, said in a very loud voice with her very Italian accent, eyebrows raised and laughing said, "Zees man, he is kneeling on one knee and speeking to you, zees appears to be fairy important, no?" as she patted me on the shoulder...hmmmmmm

I had to punch Joel in the shoulder to keep him from saying something funny, as he would do, but the only thing he said was, "No Gia, I have to do this to stoop to her level"....sometimes deaf is good.

Wicked Scary Funny Moment

Today, little Eli and I were in the kitchen...he had the refrigerator door open because he's 16 and apparently that's a requirement of someone his age....so anyway, my back is to him and I hear, "What the heck is this doing in the refrigerator?"

I turn to look and he's holding up a can of Comet cleanser that was in the door of the refrigerator...I was stunned...just shocked...I froze...I thought, "What the heck is wrong with me?...am I losing it totally?"....I was at a loss for words and I could feel the sweat beginning to pop out on my forehead as I tried to make sense of putting the Comet in the door of the refrigerator to this young man...and then, thankfully, it was like a gift of understanding dropped into my brain.

The Comet was on the sink because I was cleaning and it happened to to be roughly the same size, shape and color of the Parmesan cheese container we just bought. I wasn't being forgetful, I was being thorough AND neat!!! YAY for me!!! And what a cool and fun way to remember little Eli's face when he was standing with the door of the refrigerator open and holding the Comet...priceless...

This is good for a giggle....we know guys like this...

Oh, MommaGia!!!

Interesting perspective today from a friend of mine who is 93 years old. Her name is Gia. She was born in Tuscany, the region of Italy where Forence is located. Those from Florence consider themselves speakers of the "true" language of Italy...yea, it's cute...she's the 2nd Tuscan I've known that has proclaimed that sentiment.

Anyway, she was baptized a few months ago and being a ward missionary, I dropped by and interestingly, no on has really latched on to her so I started going over more frequently. She is amazing. She lives totally alone and gets along seemingly fine, tho now I'm discovering more areas where she needs help, such as saving her quarters for her trips to the laundramat...really?...at 93?....dragging her clothes in a wagon?...huh uh, no more sister...those puppies will now be laundered and delivered...no sweat!...she never considered asking for help. She gets one meal delivered a day and she only eats half of it so she can have something for dinner...REALLY!!! in 2008??? Here in so-called Paradise???...oh heck no...not on my watch MommaGia.

She wears skirts that are way too long for her stooped stature. They create a fall risk...Soooooo, I feel a trip coming up to my Pakistani friend who sells everything for $10.00-skirts, dresses, everything...I'm taking her there to pick up some stuff this week...at least stuff she won't trip over.

Also, she has one working ear and that only has about 25% hearing capacity so we're also going to a specialist and find a hearing aid and then!!! we're off to get a foldable wheel chair so we can go for rides and to movies...So, anyone reading this that that lives close by and has access to an in-expensive wheelchair that folds up to fit in a trunk, please let me know via this blog and I will come and pick it up for my Giaconda....She may be planning on "transporting" (her word for dying), but she's having several day trips before that happens.

She was born to a wealthy millionaire factory owner who died when she was 5 years old. She was the youngest of 8 children. She was placed in a convent at 5 and remained there until she was 16. Her mother died while she was in there. She was released to live in an apt but was introduced to a man with whom she had two children in the early 40s. He died. She outlived two others husbands. I asked her, of all of her husbands, who would she wish to spend eternity with?...she said, "None of them, they were lucky to have me."....hmmmm, this should be interesting.

She has lived all over the globe; Ecuador, Peru, Africa, Bagdad, France, etc. I asked her what her favorite place was and she said, after she had finally been to so many places, she realized that it's the same sun and the same moon, so how vastly different could it possibly be?....pretty wise observation...but she added that Baghdad had the best restaurants.

She lost her son when he was in his early 60s and her remaining child, a daughter, lives in Jordon where she is recovering from cancer treatments. My friend receives no money from family...she only has her social security check..that's it. nothing else...ever...

Gia's plan is to spend her remaining time just planning on transforming to the next stage of her development (passing to the spirit world)...she thinks this is why we're together...I don't know. I've buried a couple of old good friend in the last year and a half and it's no fun...do I really have to do this again?...again?...

Oh my...this will get way tougher before it gets easier...fo sho.

Christmas Carols...

Last year I wrote a Christmas letter to my children telling them about my childhood experiences with traditional Christmas carols and now that the season is once again upon us, my mind travels back...these traditional tunes hold such graphic imagery for me...as a child, particularly one given to too much pondering, these songs were my church. They conveyed the message of Christ-like love and acceptance and non-judgement to me and it was not unusual for me to hum the tune of The Little Drummer Boy under my breath sitting alone on the fence in my back yard in the middle of May. I couldn't separate Mother Mary from the baby Jesus in these songs...She held a place of reverance and awe in my little mind...this magnificent mother in charge of a baby God...I would try to wrap my head around that concept for hours it seemed...a big guy in red passing out gifts was just icing on the cake, I don't believe I ever confused or connected the two...but my best memory was of Silent Night...because, on really cold and snowy nights in the Midwest, I could kneel down at the bottom of our large livingroom picture window and look out into our backyard, and while I sat there rocking, looking into the snowy night, I believed that Mary was out there, just out of sight, rocking baby Jesus, and we would rock together...and I'm still rocking...

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P-cubed

Last night as a family, we were reading Isaiah 40: 3-5, where the prophet Isaiah is describing and prophesying about John the Baptist's prophesying about Jesus Christ. I said, "It's kind of like P to the 3rd power, P-cubed, a prophet talking about a prophet talking about a prophet"...Peter and Eli looked at me through their sleepy eyes, were silent for a moment, nodded simultaneously and said, "It's Tuesday, your turn to lead the prayer"...so, I think it's pretty obvious the profound and deep impact I have on my family...yessir, they are mighty blessed to have me in their midst...they couldn't wait to climb into their beds to ponder and dream about those words...oh yea...and what were my final words on this particular evening to these two spiritual seekers I share my mortal journal with?...."YOU'RE WELCOME"...

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Well, do we really have any idea what's coming?

I have written this particular blog several times...I've even published it at times...some of you may have even read it and then come back and found it gone...perhaps it will be the same with this...you speedy readers that jump on this blog at just the right time after I hit the "publish post" button...a few minutes before I hit the "edit post" button and make the words vanish. But here goes again...maybe these will stay this time.

Oh, I should have this typed and saved in a word document so I can cut and paste and save myself the agony of having to retype all of this but perhaps that is my penetence for not having the courage to post this silly thing in the first place. I'm just making too much drama about it. Oh, for crying out loud, it's just not that big of a deal...just to me, no one else...yeesh.

Here's the deal, deep breath, oh, see?...stoopid...

Many months ago, over a year now, I was diagnosed with temporal lobe issues. I hesitate to use the word epilepsy because I have never had a seizure per se. The idea of an epileptic seizure conjures up grand mal seizures and I have never had any type of seizure involving musculature contractions or those most associated with epileptic occurrences. I went to the neurologist for my migraines, of which I suffered for several years. I was also experiencing nocturnal amnesia, which he believed to be related to drugs. He performed an EEG, which was very positive for abnormal electrical activity (Oh, duh!)...and he began treating with me antiseizure meds, even tho I hadn't had any seizures. I didn't mind because it was the same medication I had been taking to control the outbreak of my migraines.

For peace of mind, I sought a second opinion...underwent a 2nd EEG, a digital contraption in the hospital, which was wildly positive, and this particularly neurologist was kind enough to refer me back to the original neurologist for continuity of care, etc.

Here's where it gets weird...and anyone who has followed my blog has probably picked up on this...My seizures are of a mystical nature...and they're only "seizures" because that's what science has labeled them. When I am having an "episode", everyone's countenance looks beautiful...absolutely stunning...I feel an overwhelming love for everyone I gaze upon...I cannot account for it but I cannot deny it either...I would be lying and God knows I would be lying and I would know I was lying.

Other episodes include the world outside having a "charmed" or "enchanted" feel or appearance to them. The sunlight appears illustrated by a cosmic cartoonist (I realize how strange that sounds, please understand that)...but it has a surreal look and feel to it...it makes me smile...colors are deeper, the air is lighter, the light is whiter, I understand that this is bliss and I don't want it to end. Also, this is episodic, not continual...that would be too cool...alas.

It is for this reason that I am choosing to cut in half my medication with the thought of no longer being medicated at all. I have stopped the evening dosage. I will see how that goes for the next couple of weeks. I hope to be totally unmedicated within a few weeks.

FOR THE MEDICALLY INTERESTED:

I saw this coming as a child...I knew I was different and weird and had a spiritual bent...I was the kid the other children brought deceased birds and animals to for burial, etc. I was a ponderer from the time I could form thoughts...possibly before. I have always had episodes where I felt like I was free-falling. These only last a few seconds but apparently this is connected to the temporal lobe. Funny, when someone wants to ride the Demon Drop at Cedar Point I'm all, "Um, no..thx anyway...heh heh" I was a bouncer...the kid on the couch who beat herself to death banging back and forth...or drawing over and over with my left hand (significant, apparently) I used to read faces when I still had to look up to do it because their countenances held information that words didn't. But you just don't talk about stuff like...especially in the 50s and 60s...there was no dialogue for that...not in my house anyway.

The temporal lobe is sorta kinda in charge of what we consider beautiful/sacred/special. We pour electrical charges over it into the amygdala. In my case, over time, these electrical charges pour over the temporal lobe like a water fall, creating ruts and gullies, deepening and carving out these areas-more so than the neurotypical person...therefore, what holds beauty for someone like me is far more acute and developed than my neighbor...I find profound, breathtaking awe in the cosmos, right down to a grain of sand, and it won't lighten up in the near future...it continues to deepen and refine.

My memory is suffering because of this and for that I am sorry. It's very frustrating for me and more frustrating for my children and family. I will tell you that I never ever forget love; the who's, how's, when's or why's.

Well, thx for hanging in thru this lengthy post...I'm out, that's all I cared about...love to you all...stay spiritual...remember what someone waaaay smarter than me said, "We are not humans having a spiritual experience, we are spirits having a human experience"....aint' it the truth!

The "True" Language of Prayer

Well...prayer...the final frontier...

I've been pondering it a bit lately...

*oh no, she's pondering something again, another semiserious blog, oh spare us*

I can totally hear you blog heckler...yeesh!

*she can hear us?...maybe that's a good thing, some one should tell her to dust her keyboard...and check that lipstick*

WHATEV...back to prayer...Our church congregation (or ward, as we call it) has been praying for a woman whom we all love and who has recently been diagnosed with a very aggressive form of leukemia. She has a great attitude and family and we're all grateful for the good things she has in her life. So, I was intrigued with the idea of combined prayer. I've been reading up on it and I had a wonderful epiphany...and it didn't need stitches or anything.

I believe the language of prayer is emotion. And perhaps that is why the more emotional and heart-felt the prayer (such as a mother's prayer) the more powerful. And perhaps the role of words is a means of conveying our minds and hearts into the most powerful emotional state. The words are a means to an end.

In the Book of Mormon, there is a man named Enos, who is spoken of as being in a state of "mighty prayer" the entire day, even down on his knees. I believe this man had an emotional break-through. I'm wondering if the thousands and thousands of words he may have uttered served as a way to recognize his emotions more readily or easily; he was male and it that culture(several hundred years before Christ), it may have been difficult to embrace an emotional state of mind and experience true gratitude and humility. Words would truly be a gift to the one doing the praying even more than the one being prayed to, but the emotions that must have surfaced continually during that process must have been incredibly intense.

So, I suppose my epiphany was this: Whether one finds onself kneeling next to a loved one with one's heart broken, or with one's heart full of love or one's heart full of gratitude...THAT is the prayer...the EMOTION, be it grief, love, or thanksgiving, etc...and that is the epiphany...that's it...nothing more to see...break it up folks...

*see, just another blathering semiserious thing where she has something relatively important to say and then just leaves...it's like a spiritual hit and run...*

I can still hear you!

*whatev*

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DEmotivational posters...thanks Eric

Now...if someone would drive up in a van labeled with "FREE BOOKS"...I would be snatched up...just so you know...SNATCHED!!!!