Saturday, June 20, 2020

Life..and then Corona...


On the streets of SoHo after a week of protests following the death of 
Mr. George Floyd

Life….I have lived and been through a lot.  Most of it really wonderful, some of it really hard, none of it would I change. (Well, maybe the pain my Ladies have had to endure...)

This..is the most surreal time I have ever experienced.  A child of the 70’s, meaning my teen-age years were in that decade, high school class of ’75.  Heard a lot about sex, drugs, rock and roll…didn’t understand it til I got to high school at the end of that era.  Thank God, I was afraid of drugs; was a “good Catholic” girl; but the drinking age was 18 when I was in high school..enough said on that…suffice it to say, my taste in wine has simply improved with age…

Memories…..
Photographer: Stan Stearns

1963: My first vivid memory of a life-changing event (besides my first baby brother coming home in 1961) was President John Fitzgerald Kennedy’s assassination.  Being in first grade, seeing a very big Sister Liam in tears was unsettling; going home to my Mom in tears even more so.  Days later, watching JFK, Jr. saluting his father’s casket unnerved me. He was my brother’s age as he watched his Father’s casket being pulled by horses down a street in a city called Washington, D.C.  I cried, but was that because my Mom was?
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  1964: Staying up late on a Sunday night to watch the Ed Sullivan show ‘cause my Dad wanted me to see a group from England with really long hair that was causing a ruckus worldwide. I jumped up and down; unsure if it was the excitement of being allowed up late; or because all the teenage girls in the audience were, and screaming.  I didn’t scream because then I’d wake up my second baby brother, and get sent to bed.   The Beatles’ music was the background to my     childhood and early adolescence.  
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1967:  Dad has us all walking the Common one hot Sunday as he wanted us to experience what this hippie thing was all about.  By now there were 4 kiddos in my family, my little sister was in her carriage, I am sure.  I was fascinated, and soon after made some love beads with friends in the neighborhood.  And, for Red Sox fans like my Dad, who will ever forget the “Impossible Dream” season?

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1968: The assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr. was my introduction to blacks and whites having issues with each other, racism.  I remember his murder leading to riots.  Then Bobby Kennedy was killed.  The Kennedy Family was a revered dynasty to Boston Irish Catholics.  My heart ached for all of his kids, many around my age, and his Wife was pregnant. The Viet Nam War dragged on.

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1969:  Another night my Dad made us all stay up through the night in a rented cottage on Cape Cod, watching my uncle’s tiny tv which was a “thing” in itself, to watch man’s first step on the moon…

1972-1974: Watergate, one of the most famous break-ins in history, June 1972, ultimately leading to President Nixon’s resignation in August of 1974 were the beginning of my real awakening to how important politics were in American life.  In all honesty, at the time, I was simply mesmerized by how pretty Mrs. Dean was.

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1975: The last of our military finally leaving Viet Nam in the spring I graduated from high school.  As most 17 year olds, I was all consumed with my life, but I do remember, and was so very glad that finally the War was finally over.  

USAFA Chapel
1977-1979: Choosing to go to dental hygiene school for all the wrong reasons (it was only two years); ended up being a good thing for many years (until I tried to change careers with only an Associates Degree in Boston, the Athens of America, but that isn’t important to this story).   Moving out of my family home in baby steps by moving to Colorado to live with a beloved uncle.   What I didn’t understand until arriving was that Uncle John’s job, as a Catholic Chaplain in the US Air Force, was at the West Point of the USAF, the Air Force Academy.  A little more than a year later, I was walking under swords becoming an Air Force Officer’s Wife, at the ripe age of 21.


Rookery Park in Oxford, England
1979-1984: Pilot training in Texas, where living on the Mexican border was eye-opening in very many ways; followed by a move to merry old England.  Having two precious baby Girls; living on an honest to God English estate; traveling often to Germany at a time of peace for three years; made for a pretty Shangri-La experience.


1985: My first proverbial shoe dropping happened shortly after coming back to the United States, to Texas.  My “officer and not so gentleman” left me for another, sending me back to the arms and love of my big and boisterous Boston Irish Catholic family.  This is when and where my profession was one of my many God-sends.  

1990- 2012: Years fled by, as they do, and I met a guy, my white-water rafting guide.  Finally trusting him to marry, life continued on. My Ladies grew and went off to college, making me proud all the way.  2001: In the midst of these years was a day that changed the world: 9/11.  It was beyond disconcerting when the borders were shut that day.  My older Daughter was in college in Montreal, and Mom was on a trip to Quebec City. (Luckily the border shutdown was quickly lifted.)   My younger daughter had just started her senior year of high school, and selfishly, my heart cried also for what that meant for she and her classmates.  (I was proud and impressed when my Sister told me that Kristi had sent a note to the Seniors of high school and college in our family this spring giving them a pep talk…)  Eventually, the next big shoe drop: I learned that the person I had trusted my, and more importantly my Ladies,’ heart with for many years had betrayed us; destroying and ending our family as we had known it for twenty years.

2013: All the while, I had my career of dental hygiene, thank God; until that ended, in part due to the Boston Marathon bombing.  Crying “Uncle,” I decided it was time to fulfill some life long dreams.  I sold almost everything I owned and moved to NYC to heal and rebuild my life.  

2015: While riding a motorcycle and not wearing a helmet, my second husband had an accident putting him into a coma.  More than one has asked me if he had a death wish?  A week later I had to make the decision to turn off all life-saving machines. (While at the hospital I saw the news that a precious toddler from Syria, Aylan Kundi, had drowned as his family attempted to flee from their civil war-torn country to a new life.)   The next year was a myriad of new experiences in settling an estate, fighting off lawsuits, and ultimately the selling of a much beloved cabin on a lake in Maine.
Hospital in Kono, Sierre Leone

2017: This all had occurred while my older daughter Katie fought Ebola in Sierre Leone as a Nurse Practitioner.  Traveling to Sierre Leone with Kristi, my younger daughter, once Ebola had been eradicated was one of the toughest, most interesting, and emotional trips of my life. It was pretty profound seeing what Katie had helped to accomplish.

Mytilini Castle on Lesvos
I needed a break to celebrate my own life.  That summer I gifted myself Greece.  Exploring for a couple of weeks, I then settled on an island in the Aegean Sea where so many people had landed at the height of the Refugee crisis: Lesvos. Three weeks volunteering with a Dutch NGO, Movement on the Ground, on the Refugee CampUs of Kara Tepe was truly a life-altering experience.  Since 2017 I have been over four more times.  (I hope to share much more on that some day.)

2020:  “Real life” now… My most recent visit to Lesvos was in February.  When I left the US, a new virus, much like the flu, was hitting China pretty hard.  Apparently, a traveler arrived with it to the US in January.  (Or so it was thought in the US.)  Travel from China to the US was banned by early February, after three major airlines declared they were stopping service.  I apparently missed the WHO’s declaring this a global emergency.  Listening to my own country’s proclamations was a mistake.  So, I went to my beloved Lesvos, again. Planning to stay for two months, instead I came home after two weeks.  The WHO acknowledged we were in the midst of a worldwide pandemic and the US decided to halt traffic coming from Europe.  (I have already written a bit on those two weeks:https://www.blogger.com/blogger.gblogID=5815993447247107855#editor/target=post;postID=8825676033135430750;onPublishedMenu=allposts;onClosedMenu=allposts;postNum=0;src=postname.)

When I “awoke” after my self-quarantine, New York had been placed in PAUSE, effectively shutdown. So, I have been stuck in NYC as travel anywhere is limited at best.  Truth be told, much of me wishes I had stayed in Greece.  I was safer there from the virus.  Greece has miraculously not been that hard hit, and Lesvos has had only a few cases, thus far.   Thank God, because if it hit Kara Tepe, or Moria...  But, I did the right thing by coming back….

I do best when I am busy. I have a few books in me, I believe, but am having trouble actually being able to write much at the moment.  It is fascinating to see that with all the craziness that we humans can and do and inflict on each other, a virus could stop the world.  I am watching and reading too much on social media. Although, I must admit Governor Cuomo’s daily news-briefs have been comforting; and he and his brother have been entertaining, taking the world by storm making many of us Cuomosexual….
Politics, I hate.  I am like the Nike logo, “Just do it.”  Which may actually be one of the reasons I
Charles Schultz
appreciate the Governor of my home state right now.
  To say I am disillusioned and disgusted by much of the Federal Government right now is an understatement.  Having been raised in the Boston area, I was born into liberalism, with Dad being a true Pacifist.  I married very young into the Air Force, which tends to be to the right.  Ah, the discussions Dad and I had in those days.  Linus from the Charles Schultz’s Peanuts gang once said: ”There are three things I have learned never to discuss with people...religion, politics, and the Great Pumpkin.”  Eventually realizing that I always voted for the candidate, not the party, I registered as an Independent.


Never do I remember the political climate in the US to be so polarized.  Perhaps I was simply too busy living my life, and admittedly, I have more time today, which until the Pandemic was quite lovely; not gonna lie.   For most of my life, I have been a very proud American, and accepting of the freedom of people’s views and opinions.  I have also been called a “Polly-anna” by some….  

What has been interesting, and heartening, quite frankly, is that with many of the Friends I have made on Lesvos who have escaped things that most of us in the US cannot fathom, the United Sates of America is still the “promised land of opportunity” that my Grandparents came to from Ireland, arriving through Ellis Island in the 1920’s.   Eyes light up, especially when I tell folks that I live in New York City. One beautiful young Lady whom I worked with almost daily in the kitchens during my Lesvos trip in the spring-summer of 2018, asked if she could come visit me in America?  I had to look into her eyes and say, “Not now, not until the laws in my country change.”  I felt so sad, ashamed, and frustrated.  I think this lovely Lady is from Iraq.  I usually forget where the friends that I make on Lesvos are from, as it doesn’t matter. But her country is one of those that this administration doesn’t allow.  She had taken one of those rubber boats with her two sisters at the ages of 19, 20, and 22. Thank God, they are now reunited with their parents in Germany.

Recently, I found myself in a conversation on Facebook (I hate when this happens.  Usually, I cut it short, but this particular time, I felt it was appropriate.) My Nurse Practitioner is now out in Navajo Nation at Tséhootsooí Medical Center on Fort Defiance.  I sometimes re-post some of the information she shares.

That conversation.  I had posted the statistics stating Navajo Nation had the highest rate of Covid19 after New York City and New Jersey (It has now surpassed both, and has the highest rate of Covid 19 per capita in the US.).  A very special Friend whom I met on Kara Tepe in 2018, a dear Guy who is 20 years old living with his younger brother in northern Greece, Redo, asked me “Where is Navajo?”  Which lead to this discussion that I would like to share:

Redo & I on Lesvos July 2018
Me: Navajo is one of the largest groups of Native Americans in the US.  Most live out is the South West: Arizona, Colorado, Utah, New Mexico.  My daughter Katie is a nurse practitioner running the Covid 19 response on one of the reservations.  
Redo: Hah!! So it’s not a place or a city but people right?
Me: Navajo is the people.  Navajo Nation is home.
Redo:  Hmm oke. Well that is sad to hear the news. Hope they all get well soon as possible!
Me:  Thank you! This is a Global Pandemic. Inshallah, we will all get well as soon as possible.  Xo Someday, we shall have a US history lesson about this..easier in person…Alas, the way the US treated Native American is not a proud story in our history.
Redo:That you say mom. But you may not believe.  In my country all the people describe how best is the American treatments/doctors. That no country is better than America.
Me:  Ah, Redo, this is too difficult to do on FB…Let’s just say that for now..I am saddened and a little disillusioned, even in my own country because, yes, we do have some of the best medicine and treatments in the world (and we were
absolutely not prepared for a Global Pandemic…)  But, I do believe in the magic and mystery of Faith, Hope, and Love, right?!  We will all get through this.
Redo:  Mom we shall believe Hope, love and faith have always been through most difficulties.
(This conversation and picture with Redo has been shared with his permission.)

Back to now…. I still need to do something.  Lately, I have been accepting my age for the first time; not liking it; but accepting it.  But, what I really am having a hard time with is that I cannot volunteer in many places anymore, due to the Covid 19 risks.  I did find an organization that has been on my radar for years,  God’s Love We Deliver that welcomed me.  What I was very pleased to learn is that this NGO was started by a nurse to help a friend during another epidemic that hit the US in the ’80s, HIV/Aids.  “The mission of God’s Love We Deliver is to improve the health and well-being of men, women and children living with HIV/AIDS, cancer and other serious illnesses by alleviating hunger and malnutrition.” Going down to SoHo once or twice a week to work in the kitchen to help prep meals, or whatever needs doing, has been lovely.  It’s nice to be physically tired again.  GLWD has almost doubled the meals it provides since the beginning of the Covid19 Pandemic. I have also been able to help neighbors out a bit doing errands as I am the young kid on the block.  And, finally spring has arrived, and I can be out in my beloved Secret Garden. 

Gene & Jill's plane

In the midst of all of this, I have experienced some of the magic in the beauty of humans.  No matter how old ones children get; no matter how successful they become in their chosen profession and lives; when one calls or texts upset; it breaks your heart.  And, if one asks for help, you jump.  At least this Mom does.   So, I reached out to one of our oldest friends.  We met as young parents in England, and one of us is a retired four star General of the US Air Force.  A number of weeks ago, I heard that this special man did a fly by over Fort Defiance Reservation on his way to drop of face shields to one of Katie’s co-workers in Flagstaff.  General (Retired) Eugene Renuart and Dr. John McVicker,Neurosurgeon at UC Memorial Hospital, flew Gene’s plane (at their own expense) to Piper Aircraft in Florida.  Piper has stopped normal operations for a while to make face shields for our First Responders. Old friends truly are golden.

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Designed at NYU
Another great guy I know from my NYC life, Charles Grantham, stopped creating his gorgeous pieces for a while, to create intubation boxes and face shields for New York, and many hundreds of those face shields have very graciously been shared with Navajo Nation. 

More frustrating texts revolved around surgical gowns.  Katie’s hospital was about to run out.  Would my friends who are artists creating children’s clothes and hats be willing to make gowns?  (Tuff Kookooshka and Swan & Stone Millinery have been making, sharing, and donating surgical masks all over New England, and beyond.  I have spent many wonderful hours with these Dear Friends at the Grand Central Holiday Market.) Yes, but finding materials was then an issue.  I started researching, a dizzying exercise which led me mostly to the Far East. Digging out a card from a lady I refer to as my Fairy God Friend (a long story there) I reached out to see if she could help me source material for these gowns as she is a clothing designer/manufacturer.  Well, it turns out that since not many people are buying women’s clothing, and that there is a desperate need here in NYC for medical-surgical gowns; you guessed it; she is manufacturing them.  Katie and my Fairy God Friend have been introduced.

So, in this surreal time of ours, one can stay and be busy.  Magic does happen because most People are good, and kind.  I hope, I must believe in that and at the end of this pandemic craziness, we as humans will be kinder and gentler.  Inshallah….

(As I finally put the finishing touches on this, my country is in the midst of yet another crisis…one that has been simmering slowly for many many years.  Another part of my country’s history that is also not a proud one, revolves around race.  In the midst of a Pandemic, the murder of a Black Man, Mr. George Floyd, by police, has brought the country, and much of the world, to a tipping point.  I hope to write more on it, but am simply too sad to succinctly wrap my mind around it at this moment.  It is too raw.  Right now, I am grateful that local and state leadership around the US seems to stepping up to the plate as much as they can, as the leadership in DC is so woefully lacking at a moment in history when we really need a good, honest, calm, unifying leader.  Again, Inshallah, we will rise better and stronger…)

Thursday, March 19, 2020

Why Was I There?

"I’ve learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart,
 I usually make the right decision."
Maya Angleou

Mytillini Castle

Three weeks ago, as I walked out the door to catch a car to Newark Airport to head back to my beloved Lesvos, my brother called.  “Mom is back in the ER.  I know you’d never forgive me, if I didn’t tell you.  But, Mom, myself, and Dr. D feel you should continue on with your plans.”  Mom fell a month ago.  I spent almost a week with her and she was healing nicely.  Recently Mom urged me to go back as to Lesvos as “the Folks there need you more than I do.”  Oh, dear God.  

I knew there were protests happening on Lesvos, both by native Residents of the island and by non-native Residents (Refugees).  A general strike was called for the day I was scheduled to arrive.  Both of these things have happened in the past, usually to no avail, although it had been a tad less peaceful in recent weeks.  After many phone calls, some soul searching, I defied the gods and got on my plane…

When I went through customs at the Athens airport it struck me again how easy it is, has always been, creating a bit of guilt over my white American privilege.  There was an announcement at the gate for our flight to Mytillini.  Not understanding, I went to the agent, fearing the flight was cancelled due to unrest on Lesvos.  No, the flight was simply overbooked, and they were looking for a volunteer to wait. I couldn’t.  I had folks waiting for me: with my rental car at the airport, then my apartment rental agent was meeting me in the Old Port to guide me to my home for two months.  Looking around the terminal at my fellow passengers, it was all so normal.


 Everything was simple, although driving through Mytillini was eerily dark and quiet…

My Cafe (living room)
For over two years, this being my 5thvisit, I have been trying to put into words my experiences on, and my love of, this beautiful island in the Northern Aegean Sea.   That will come.  I believe it.  I started writing this in the tiny Café that my dear landlord and his family shared with me.  It became my living room.  I needed to put into non-politicized words, some thoughts and feelings of my too short visit back on Lesvos

A bit of quick background first: I came to Greece for the first time in the summer of 2017.  I gifted myself this trip after a few very tough years personally and because who hasn’t dreamt of Greece?  I combined my explorations with a three-week volunteer stint with a Dutch NGO, born of the 2015 Refugee crisis on this beautiful island. My time with Movement on the Ground forever changed my life, enriching and putting it in perspective in ways no other experience has.  (And, for better or worse, I have had a few experiences.)

Friends and family have often asked, “What do you do on the Camps?”  My answer has always been “Whatever we can to make life a little kinder and gentler for Humans whose worlds were turned upside down by war, political and financial unrest, and are in a very strange limbo.”  I am passionate, blessed, and grateful about being able to go there.

I am not a fan of politics.  Right now, I am truly disappointed and dismayed by the “leaders” in much of our world.  I am a fan of Nike’s logo “Just do it.”  Living by the Greek Goddess’ symbolism of strength, victory, and speed is more poignant than ever.  Well, things on Lesvos, and the other Aegean islands escalated in a negative way once I arrived.  The dear folks who call these islands home have had it.  They feel that the world has deserted them, and I cannot disagree.   I truly cannot put into succinct words the politics involved here.  It exhausts and infuriates me.   

Having had a lot of unexpected free time, I was glued to social media to keep up with things as they happened, and escaped into rom-com novels.  Not gonna lie.  One of the best articles that best sums up that first week was written by Doug Herman, who created another amazing NGO, Refocus Media Lab..  The work they are doing is pretty impressive. https://medium.com/are-you-syrious/ays-special-lesvos-well-beyond-the-brink-this-is-what-we-know-so-far-7c11873e12f8.  

I now fully understand what the mob mentality can do.  A few days of work had to be cancelled due to road closures, and safety issues as some hooligans were directing anger at Humanitarian workers.  Some NGOs decided to cease operations and evacuated to Athens, for now.  We continued as much as we could, and would sometimes be sent home, and asked to stay indoors.  My teammates were safe.  I felt especially so as my landlords watched over me closely.

A child drowned, a man was shot and killed at the Turkish border, and there were films on social media of Coast Guard boats actually trying to hurt more than help Humans in rafts. (It literally took my breath away that most of the Folks on these boats were not wearing any life jackets at all, never mind fake ones).  On the Greek borders, on the Sea and at the Turkish border were “military exercises with live ammunition.”  

I texted my Daughters to assure them I was safe and sound, in case they saw something on social media. (Thankfully Mom doesn’t do social media.)  Katie suggested that perhaps I come home.  I reminded her that six years ago I put her on a plane to Sierre Leone to battle Ebola with full confidence and trust in her abilities.

My wonderful Landlord
My lil Girlfriend,  my Landlord's granddaughter
What a difference a few days made.  The WHO announced that COVID 19, Corona virus, had reached the point of being a world-wide pandemic.  When I left the US, the White House was still belittling it, and there were few cases at home.  Mom was terrified I may get it; not get good treatment; and/or get stuck on a Greek Island.  I assured her I was keeping a close eye on things in that regard and there were no cases on Lesvos.  (As of now there is one case on Lesvos, on the other side of the island from where the Camps are.  If it hits the Camps, especially Moria, my heart breaks just thinking about it.)  I woke up one morning to a text from Kristi asking me to come home as the WH had put a travel ban on European travel to start in 2 days.  As it turns out, it allowed US citizen to come home, but I realized that it was simply not fair to put this stress on my family.  The next 48 hours became quite an odyssey: rearranging flights; saying a sad farewell to my new “Lesvosian family” (my Landlord’s family); 3 flights totaling 20+ hours going through Dubai?! bringing me home to a 2 week self-quarantine in the City that never Sleeps but is pretty much shut down.
This week there was yet another fire in Moria.  A precious six year old girl perished.  Stephan Oberreit (MSF Greece) declared "European and Greek authorities who continue to contain people in such inhumane conditions have a responsibility in the repetition of these dramatic episodes. How many times we have to see the tragic consequences of this inhuman policy of containment before we urgently evacuate people out of the hell of Moria.” (https://www.theguardian.com/…/child-killed-in-lesbos-refuge…)
Twilight on my beach
For now, I believe the reason I was there is to share and ask others to open their eyes and hearts to things happening outside their piece of this earth.  The world is interesting right now, to put it mildly, and all consumed with coronavirus. It should, and has to be.  But, on some beautiful islands in the Aegean Sea, there is so much more: true fear, anger, and strife, along with unnecessary death and injury.   

Please pray for Everyone on Lesvos.  Perhaps we’ll start to see Humanity rise again.  Inshallah, sooner rather than later.

Other reliable sources of information:  
Movement on the Ground: https://movementontheground.com.  
Right now, I understand there is so much financial uncertainty for most of us. But, if there is any way you are able to make a donation to MOTG, I can personally vouch that it is used for its great work on Lesvos and Samos.  Thank you, in advance.