Comments for Hildegarde

Comment on 11 Better Off Dead by robert_piepenbrink

robert_piepenbrink — Wed, 11 Jul 2018 13:50:23 +0000

Well….duh?

Yes, ideas have consequences. And giving up on the idea of people being made in the image of God has fairly predictable consequences. Every “progressive” movement for more than a century has some sort of eugenics program, if only for reasons of economy. I can remember being berated in college with the high US infant mortality rate compared with the German Democratic Republic. Not mentioned in the tirade was that any child born below a certain weight was reclassified as biological waste and dumped still breathing in a bucket for disposal. You get a MUCH lower infant mortality rate if you decide preemies aren’t people. Cheaper that way, too.

I think, taking the long view, Marxism is the anomaly–people who have abandoned Christianity and Judaism, but still formally insist on a human equality they can’t give a reason for. It’s Nietzsche who has reasoned more carefully from first principles, which is why all the revolutionary states right of left come to resemble Nazi Germany.

Christian socialism would be a different thing, and sometimes is while it lasts. But Christian socialists need to be careful of their company.

Comment on 10 The Necessity of Dogs by robert_piepenbrink

robert_piepenbrink — Wed, 11 Jul 2018 11:02:11 +0000

I always distrust specifics of Heaven. If God is beyond our imagining, then so too will be the afterlife. Sometimes I re-read the passage in The Master and Margarita, which is close to the limits of what I can imagine, and I remind myself that the Master “has earned peace. He has not earned the Light.”

But “we” or “Americans” don’t indulge in those delusional rantings about the evil which is the United States. The United States is not an extended family like France, Germany England or Russia, but an agreement on political principles–natural rights and limited and divided government. Those whackos have rejected that agreement and so have necessarily rejected the United States. Hence their insistence that the Earthly Paradise is elsewhere–France if not Canada.

And I call to mind Benjamin Franklin’s definition of a Tory–“a man whose body is in America while his head is in England and whose neck ought to be stretched.”

Comment on 11 Better Off Dead by Cheryl

Cheryl — Mon, 09 Jul 2018 17:39:40 +0000

The “better off dead” thing is something that is very close to my heart and something that makes me want to disconnect from my culture, if that were possible. At one time, attitudes towards and provisions for the disabled were increasing steadily, and I was optimistic that it would continue. Now I’m not. Just for context – my brother had cerebral palsy, although it wasn’t initially diagnosed, and the doctors thought he had a degenerative neurological condition. He died at 44 – eventually, an infection killed him, and by that time his physical condition meant that it was just a matter of time before that happened. He was sent home to die as an toddler, but he graduated from university and even held down a job for a few years until his health declined. I’ll never know all the details of how my parents and he battled so that he could have a decent life. I know they got the “better off dead” from lay acquaintances and medical professionals alike. I know it was a battle to get him the care and education any other child could get. And things did improve over time, for him and others, although it was never enough. Now, we’re sliding backwards. His life was short and difficult, but it was better than being dead – and he’d have lost over 40 years if those early doctors had been right.

I don’t think I’ve ever encountered a Samoyed – I have a very vague memory of seeing one once, big fluffy white dog, and at the time I was into crafts so I was intrigued by the information that Samoyed hair – unless I’m confusing them with another dog – can be spun into yard which is unusual because dog fur lacks the characteristics of sheep wool. Now, if only someone could figure out how to spin cat hair, I could go into the blanket business. I swear, if Cinnamon goes to her reward before I go to mine, the next cat (I like to have two at a time) will be shorthaired. Cinnamon is a beautiful, pleasant cat, but she sheds far too much.

Insurance is a good thing. There are frequent ads on the TV shows I watch (I must watch Old People’s Channels” for supplementary insurance for Canadians, as if anyone alive didn’t realize that the provincial medicare organizations don’t cover everything. People who haven’t been there probably don’t realize just HOW expensive some drugs can be, but they sure know they have to pay for any drugs except those administered while they’re in hospital, unless they have insurance or are poor enough to qualify for a subsidy. In my province you have to be extremely poor to qualify for a “drug card” as it’s called, but I’ve got insurance through work and extra private insurance I kept on after I left the job that enabled me to get in that group program. Some people have told me I pay too much in insurance. I don’t think so.

Comment on 10 The Necessity of Dogs by Cheryl

Cheryl — Mon, 09 Jul 2018 09:28:46 +0000

I don’t generally follow or discuss politics any more. Somehow, I seem to be unable to remain completely uninformed – possibly because I do skim the headlines on a couple news sites and, even if, in pursuit of my decision to avoid getting obsessed and upset about things I can do nothing about, I don’t click on many links that obviously lead to such topics, I click on others. If all the news sites follow the BBC’s lead and switch most of their top posts to video only, I may yet manage to avoid all news. One of the things I find most annoying is the complete lack of perspective and historic knowledge in many of the stories. It’s as though righteous indignation has taken the place of rational thought or analysis. I suppose it was ever so (I know I indulged in lots of righteous indignation years ago), so maybe my tolerance has declined. Maybe I’ll take up a book on ancient church history, or, for that matter, any history, although the course I applied for so as to keep myself mentally occupied was on wisdom literature. When I’m in the right mood, reading about long-past and long-resolved (well, more or less resolved) crises soothe me. I can’t say I’ve tried reading the Summa or even a commentary on it, though. I do have a new book on St. Paul I haven’t started, and Colin Watson’s mysteries, which I have.

I can’t say I worry much about the content of next life, although as a Christian, I think there is one. Some people seem to think I should obsess over the afterlife, and preach passionately about my conclusions, just like some people do about … well, let’s not get into politics. Sane people…well, there are lots of people who God will probably let into heaven whom I would probably prefer not to spend eternity with. I don’t have any particular objection to dogs, although I’m not sure about Samoyeds only. One of my sisters has a dog that’s probably a poodle/Portuguese water dog cross (her, the dog’s, early history is a little uncertain) who is a lovely dog, and if any dog deserves a good afterlife, she’s it. OK, she does steal food when possible, chew up things other than her favourite canvas ducks, and viciously threatens squirrels, although she never catches one. Surely those are venial dog-sins. She is also the only dog I’ve heard of (admittedly I don’t know many dogs) who is afraid of swimming, so I guess biology isn’t always destiny, if she is really of 100% water dog ancestry. And you have to include cats. I’ve lived with and known lots of great cats. I’ve even been accused of acting as though every single cat I meet is a beautiful and charming animal.

Comment on 9 Sunday Bloody Sunday by robert_piepenbrink

robert_piepenbrink — Fri, 15 Jun 2018 15:44:54 +0000

We all of us know we will die. None of us know when. Once, the “treatment” for diabetes amounted to death by slow starvation. But it was slow, and some people survived that way until insulin therapy was invented. For that and other reasons, there are people walking around today who have long outlived the doctor who gave them the bad news.

To think the time you have left is probably short would be a bad reason not to go on living, and for you, living means taking part in certain debates. Don’t stop.

Comment on 9 Sunday Bloody Sunday by Cheryl

Cheryl — Sun, 10 Jun 2018 18:55:37 +0000

I think it comes down to living until you die. A friend of mine got a terminal diagnosis some years ago – she was what seemed to me then and still does seem appallingly young, in her thirties, a fair bit younger than I was. When she got the news, the staff urged her to use a wheelchair – she had been having pretty severe back pain, which was why the doctors finally got around to ordering the needed tests – she said “I’m not dead yet” and refused. She had good times and bad times and eventually, as we all knew would happen, the treatments stopped working, so she stopped getting them, and she died. But for a lot of that time, she could live the ways she wanted. Nothing dramatic; she lived at home with her family, participating more or less in daily life as her health permitted – but she wasn’t dead yet, so she kept on with her life, knowing, more acutely than I did at the time, that death was coming. Which sounds odd – we all know we’re going to die. But not all of us seem to realize that we will live until that point.

My mother’s death was very different. There was no clear diagnosis – I think her body basically just wore out. My relationship with her had been very difficult over the years, and I don’t know that it was completely healed because I was overseeing her care for the last few years of her life. I’m glad I did – it enabled me to deal with our relationship while she was still around. I hope she felt the same way.

Comment on 8 Every Victory Is Temporary by Cheryl

Cheryl — Sun, 10 Jun 2018 18:39:23 +0000

I missed you – but wasn’t checking the blog all that regularly so it took me a while to notice you were back. I’m not on Facebook, so I miss things sometimes.

I saw the blog about the new book some time back – I bought it and enjoyed it.

Comment on 9 Sunday Bloody Sunday by Lymaree

Lymaree — Sun, 10 Jun 2018 16:45:09 +0000

When my mom was first diagnosed, she also said she didn’t want treatment. But she had been drinking heavily for a long time, I think she knew she was ill long before that. She certainly knew she was going blind from macular degeneration, and was depressed and alone. She was also very very sick at the time of her diagnosis.

Our bringing her from Florida to California, and getting her back to relative health changed her outlook. In her last 24 months, she engaged in more personal growth than she’d experienced for decades. She made new friends, and a warm, loving space for herself and for us. She spent some time with a therapist, to help with her coping. She stopped drinking. As long as we could, we took her places to fill her mind with new sights and new experiences. We had holidays together. My sister and I forged new relationships with her. My husband became her closest friend, a true son. We would have had none of that if she’d rushed to death and not fought back.

Knowing for sure your time is short clarifies your priorities wonderfully. Your passions become more passionate. And you’ll no longer tolerate the tiny life-suckers that just annoy previously. You want to spend your time with people you wouldn’t mind dying with or for. And none of it with people who annoy, inconvenience or impede you.

Approaching death doesn’t change you. It intensifies you. It distills the essential you. Be proud of your essence.

Comment on 8 Every Victory Is Temporary by janeh

janeh — Sun, 10 Jun 2018 15:07:21 +0000

Hi, Cheryl!

I’m really glad to hear from you again.

Comment on 8 Every Victory Is Temporary by Cheryl

Cheryl — Wed, 06 Jun 2018 22:45:52 +0000

There’s a very strong tendency in our society for people to believe that we have – or can/should have, if we do everything right – control over ourselves and our lives. I think myself this is tied to the incredible value so many of us put on autonomy. I don’t see it as strongly connected to the “spiritual but not religious” crowd who mostly seem to value feeling good rather than controlling the universe – at least, the universe as it affects them. The desire for control is more widespread – and also, people want an explanation – something more than “well, life isn’t fair”, which is more or less what it comes down to. It’s almost like a carry-over from the childhood cry “it’s not fair!” crossed with the fantasy that we can control our lives. I don’t know why otherwise sensible adults buy into such a fantasy – but people do desperately want reasons for illnesses, particularly disabling or fatal ones, and there aren’t many other reasons on sale other than religious ones. My father died of an extremely rare lung illness – no one knows why or how he got it. It was almost certainly completely unrelated to the fact he was a smoker. My mother, at one point, responded to this situation by developing the conviction that his mother, who was, as far as I ever knew, one of those rare non-smokers who die from lung cancer, didn’t really have lung cancer, but the same thing that was killing my father, and because it was genetic (which the doctors didn’t know, due to its rareness), any time I or my siblings coughed, she thought we had inherited it. That sort of reaction to a loss I can understand. I can’t understand the conviction that you can cure an illness by positive thinking or never get sick if you eat a (ever-changing idea) good diet. No one’s yet said to my face that I got cancer because I’m fat, although I’m sure some have done so behind my back – maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. A lot of cancers arise spontaneously. I have been asked about genetic reasons – in my case, the family heath history doesn’t support the idea that there is any genetic component in my illness. I’m not going to believe I could have avoided this illness if I’d done something different, like my mother thinking that she could help us by treating a disease we “inherited” from our father and grandmother. Maybe I could have, maybe not, and in any case, it’s irrelevant to the situation as it exists now.

So how does this tie back into earlier ideas about control – that is, if I accept that some illness might have simply arisen spontaneously, is that different from accepting that my poverty and inability to hold down a job has also arisen spontaneously, and is similarly out of my control? I don’t agree with that – or do I? Is saying “I’m going to try to shift the odds of having good health in my favour by taking care of my body, but accept that I might fail because of factors outside my control” the same as “I’m going to try to shift the odds of having a financially comfortable lifestyle by studying and working hard. but accept that I might fail because of factors outside my control”? Or do both attitudes lead to passivity and victimhood?