My friend of many years, Gine(she is 81, in a fun sort of way~she gives me things like old Buddhas, worry boxes, love, & naked sculptures at random times), hardly ever cooks(never, ever)& refuses to shop in supermarkets~lunch out, dinner out with her husband, bananas, milk, & orange juice from the 7-11.
So we were in the 7-11 parking lot last night when a woman clutching lots of change & scratch-offs fell to the asphalt. For 2 seconds, because of my sometime problems with reality(see any schizophrenia entry), I believe it is not happening, but I go for her anyway.
She does not want 911 called(Gine called anyway). She is climbing up my leg instead of allowing me to give her a hand. 50 other things seem to happen by the time I get her into the driver's seat of her car(which she has insisted upon my doing). I take over the passenger seat, much to her chagrin. She wants me out. Stalling, waiting for ambulance. She wants me out. She lives "just down the street(no, she will not let me take her there)." Stalling. My overabundance of answers are pissing her off. I try refining my message. She glares. I nod like a marionette. Stalling.
She is messy & uncontainable; she is uncertain & defensive. She is the sometimes me. I suddenly so know how my ex-bf is feeling when I am paranoid or disconnected & he is trying to help me. I stop trying.
Thing is, I almost never stop trying, but I can feel my bf's mask on me & I can see my mask on this woman. Stop. She relaxes a little(when I shut up), & tells me that I am a good person, but this is her life.
Indeed.
And Gine, who is Queen of Moving On, says to me: They made me give my full name & if they call back YOU are answering the phone. Then she goes into the store & buys bananas.
Gine does not read obits because she does not see the point. Her husband Todd showed her one at the breakfast table a few years back. She read it, shrugged: Who is that?
Todd: Your first husband!(honestly, happened just like that)
After Gine's dad died, she took her mom everywhere with her. She cared for her brother while he was living with & dying of AIDS, & she held on to him as he took his last breath. But when her aunt, who could very well walk on her own, refused to do so, Gine left her right where she was voluntarily planted & went on about her life.
Some of us need a little more Gine.
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You All Were Moving At Different Speeds in this situation.Gine needs to move in frantic fashion & you were slowing down/cutting the speed......We Are ALL like Gods Moving in Mysterious Ways!!!
ReplyDeleteI love it. Great entry. I have never known a Gine, some have come close, but even the stalwart ones look back if only for a glance and position finder.
ReplyDeleteyour account makes me smile, I like to think I would try to help. I know there is a wonderful you, there is definitely a caring you, and you? You have to know that!
I think you are as close to a Gine as you are gonna find, but you have lifetimes before you reach that age.
Love from New Hampshire.
Gine has some things figured out, doesn't she? I like her no nonsense way of doing things.
ReplyDeleteI so love tony's last sentence.
ReplyDeleteMary, I find the 'switched' masks you perceived extremely interesting.
So wonderfully written. It's odd when unexpected events provide insight to our own situations. Gine sounds like someone everyone needs in their life.
ReplyDeleteI considered briefly getting a worry box, but then I realized mine would be overflowing the first day. Something to work on.
Thanks for sharing your fragility and wisdom with us other fragile truth seekers. . .
ReplyDeleteAloha from Honolulu
Comfort Spiral
=^..^=
> < } } ( ° >
Gine sounds like a wonderful woman.... but, so do you. Maybe that is why you are such great friends.
ReplyDeleteNo one is in Gine's league. I wish I could forget my first husband. As I've told you, my true love I never married. I let him dance right out of my home, but never my heart. I read all of this blog on tues-wed. I think I laughed and cried my botox loose. I want to adopt you and keep you from making the mistakes I've made.
ReplyDeleteI can only agree with you about half of this one.
I would have let that woman drive herself home the first time she mentioned it, but have you learned nothing from our marathon conversation about our two Xz on monday? Yours is not an X any more than mine is. I don't have your mental disorder but I have my mental disorder. IIf I would have listened to my man thirty years ago, in every instance I would have a better life today and so would our grown child. Today he and I are practically nursing home residents doing all this crap. By all means stop early and often wiith stubborn strangers in parking lots but press green-go every time with the man who loves you, before it is too late.
-Jess
I've only met you twice, but I already measure your love by the freedom you give. I appreciate this comment in a way I'd rather not explain(yet).
DeleteI don't know the woman you were 30 years ago, but the one you are today is gentle & compassionate. ~Mary
I like to think I am in Gine's league. See, there is more than enough to struggle with in life without making up more for us to overcome. Yeah, I sometimes warble about "this and that", but the main point is that I am "here and now" and that is "so there and then".
ReplyDeleteNow I wonder what would have happened had you two encountered me sprawled out on the pavement last week? I would not have let you call an ambulance (but as was prone on the ground, I was not in a position to stop you). I am sure that despite my best protests, you would have called, and that in turn would have compelled me to stay...
You are such a sweetie and I think your ex may be "ex of the year". Jus' sayin'..!
I had a Gine in my life once and I miss her. After several husbands she kept telling me she was looking for a man who could pick up his end of the board.
ReplyDeleteYour first husband! Best story ever.
ReplyDeleteOne of the greatest gifts we can give is to respect other peoples life choices. Of course that's hard to do when some of their choices are so DUMB, right?!?!
ReplyDeleteWhen you are not ill you have the best intuitive sense of how to be around others of anyone I have ever known. We bought vegan cheese in error last week. Our sympathies to you.
ReplyDeleteHz
This is cleverly written.
ReplyDeleteYou know, old Buddhas and naked sculptures are on my Christmas list every year...
ReplyDeleteRecognizing yourself--it's terrifying and comforting all in the same moment; difficult to swallow, but then you know what to do--you've been there, trod and fell and sank and climbed in those shoes. Being on the other side of the glass is unnerving...I laud your tell of it.
I found lots of old Buddhas and naked sculptures in my mom's stuff. I love the jolly Buddhas best. Maybe we need a Gine statue too?
ReplyDeleteHope all is well in your world Mary. I wish we were neighbors.
So... what happened to the woman? Did she drive off and into a telephone pole or out of site. Did the ambulance arrive? Did the police call you back?
ReplyDeleteI like Gine. You need to hang out with her more often, I think.
Miss you.
Gine sounds like someone I would like.
ReplyDeleteDear Mary, for myself, I think I need a lot more Gine. What a posting this is for helping others to rethink our certainty about what is best for other people. This letting-go business is difficult for people like me who seem to have been beset by the "savior syndrome." Often I have to take myself by the scruff of my neck and ask myself, "Who said, Dee Ready, that you are the answer to everyone's prayer?" And the truth is, no one has said that but somehow I seem to insist that I must be. And so I'm into the letting-go stage of my life. Letting go first and foremost of demanding too much of myself. And then letting-go of demanding too much of others. Does any of this make sense?
ReplyDeleteSomehow you always bring out the philosopher in me. You have a gift for making me--and others--think. Thank you. Peace.
I've had a lot of practice in letting go, but it never gets any easier. Like the above commenter, there comes, I believe, a letting go stage of life. When do you let an adult do what appears to be blatantly dangerous? In my situation--the answer has been always. We both learn that way. But maybe we are perpetually in the school of hard knocks, never to graduate.
ReplyDeleteGine sounds so sure. I'm never sure. Sometimes I'm pretty sure, but I'm never that sure.
ha gine sounds like quite the character...interesting interaction with the lady as well...and seeing yourself a bit in her...i am glad that you were there and tried to help the woman...
ReplyDeleteShe sounds like a very interesting lady; someone I'd love to know. I really liked this entry.
ReplyDeleteYou've created the illusion of a window into you. My view is a little more complete. Dad and Manfred are better at helping you help yourself than you realize.
ReplyDeleteYou do not push your morals or solutions on others, but you don't leave them stretched out on the pavement either.LuvU, Am.
No wonder you and Gine are friends. You are the good samaritan and she shows you the way to let go. Together, you are a formidable pair.
ReplyDeleteHold on tight, Mary, sometimes things are for real.
I want/need a Gine, too! Sounds like a phenomenal lady! Lucky you.
ReplyDeletetale deserves a fresh mug of coffee... blessed be
ReplyDeleteshe sounds like a fascinating person...love her radicalness and her heart...helping those that need help with all her soul but stops if they don't do what they could do..i like..i call that radical love
ReplyDelete«Louis» thanks you for visiting San Francisco Bay Daily Photo.
ReplyDeletePerhaps the woman who fell didn't want an ambulance due to the cost, I took one and I've been paying $25 per month for three years and have six months to go, never again.
ReplyDeleteGine sounds wonderful, old buddhas and nude statues, Ha., she reminds me of the adage of tough love, which is hard to give but must be given to help those that need it, and it's the hardest love to give, had to with my brother and thankfully he's off drugs now; my mom and sister kept giving him presents he could hock and money, finally after years they quit, he robbed the meters till he couldn't any more and finally hit bottom and rose up.
Continues to move me much every time read.
ReplyDeleteNot always easy to comment, yet believe, that you provide an impressive measurement of current time and life. One can only hope, that you somehow collect your work and that it will be saved for future years.
hey hope you are doing well....and thanks for always popping in....
ReplyDelete