I loved Ruchika Joshi's "A Bassinet for Mary" (November 17). It was so beautifully written. I have been so grateful for all the small moments of joy I have in my life lately -- savoring each day that brings peace, health, and happiness no matter how simple or ordinary it is. Joshi's reflection on how to appreciate the number of days she's been blessed with, even if some of those days have brought sorrow, compared to Mary's short life, shows a depth of grace and gratitude that we should all strive to embrace. I read Connections every week -- this one would be in my top five.
Mount Auburn Cemetery is full of graves of children who died of infectious bacterial diseases such as diphtheria and cholera, whooping cough, and viral diseases such as polio and measles, and is a constant reminder to me, who buried a cancer victim husband there and hope to lie beside him someday, of the 20th-century gifts of microbiology to public health: antibiotics and vaccines. If herd immunity to measles and polio is to be maintained, the public must recognize the horror of these diseases. In July 1954, I suffered through measles in a fourth-floor, un-airconditioned apartment in Brooklyn, and thought I was dying. Please continue to appreciate wonderful Mount Auburn Cemetery not just for its beautiful ponds with indigenous turtles, toads, and salamanders, but for its lessons in the gifts of 20th-century science to humanity.
Anyone reading this would relate on some level to dealing with the unforeseen pain and hardships we face in life. On our worst day, trying to find gratitude in living one extra day can ease the pain in the moment. So, thank you, Ruchika, for sharing your story.
Joshi's ruthless honesty about her mental state and the reasons for it made one's heart ache. Her ruminations, brought upon by her discovery of Mary Wigglesworth's marble bassinet tombstone (with a gift of a tiny pumpkin on top) reminded me that we are all here but a short time and that the nature of life is suffering. And yet, the redemption of spirit she found, and her final line ("I stopped weeping then, for Mary and myself") gave me pause -- and hope. Bravo for a magnificent and heartfelt piece of writing. I am better for having read it.
This certainly makes one realize how grateful we should all be. I am 78 years old; my dad died suddenly at 38 years old, when I was 11. I often think of him as I age, and what he missed. It also makes me realize that there are still some thoughtful, caring people among us. At this time in the world, it helps to realize this and remember.
I was very touched by this. I am so sorry for Ruchika's pain, and hope that the writer finds community in the D.C. area.
Powerful story that we all should remember. Time is our opportunity to enjoy and love what we have.
I love, love, love Ruchika Joshi and wish I could hug her. Such a beautiful story.
Miss Conduct offers a number of diversion tactics but I don't think LW should work so hard to mitigate and redirect a sibling's high-velocity blather when she's hosting a party ("Uninviting Behavior," November 17)! He's not 4 years old and LW is not his therapist, conservator, life coach, or companion-care specialist. . . . If [the writer] decides to take a stand, be direct and truthful but gentle and calm. His unrelenting, high-volume, opinionated rhetoric and rude rejoinders are not the stuff of holiday parties!
Consider two holiday dinners: a family-only and then a friends-but-no-brother get together. I know this sounds like "punishing the host" but you have to cook/eat dinner anyway and this might get the obligation out of the way so that the friends event will be actually fun.
Dear LW, how does your brother treat you? Does he also impose his opinions and get angry if you disagree with him? If not, it means he is perfectly capable of treating people with respect. And if he is disrespectful with you, too . . . Well, let that sink in. You say you love him dearly, but this looks like a very asymmetrical relationship: he does whatever he wants (including being nice to you, when and how he wants), while you do everything you can (including pushing your friends away) to shield him from any responsibility for his actions.
The wonderful thing about being an adult is that you get to choose who to invite. . . . If someone consistently sabotages your gatherings, DON'T INVITE THEM!!!
He won't take the letter-writer seriously until she actually asks him to leave one of her parties when he's misbehaving. She's "safe" for him to act out around. Until she's not.
This Perspective was fun to read -- and very helpful ("Here's What Parents Really Want From Grandparents," November 24)! I was able to deeply identify as I read because author Bart Tocci jarred my memories of the challenges of parenting young children and also spoke to my current role as a grandparent.
This commentary distills intergenerational relationships between parents and adult children with children of their own into a series of calculated extractions of goods (e.g., home-cooked meals) and services (child care). There is no mention of elders serving as exemplars of travel through the cycle of life or as repositories of universal truths -- indeed, sources of unconditional kindnesses. How transactional. How sad.
What's wrong with grandparents honoring their adult kids' wishes about how their children are raised? What's wrong with grandparents acknowledging that the 20-plus years that have passed since they raised kids means things are different, and it's not a criticism of their parenting skills to do something different? What's wrong with grandparents letting go of the need to parent their kids even though they are grown and have the right to make their own decisions? . . . None of that is an insult leveled at them!
At this stage of life, it's all about the grandkids, and we all are very much aware of how precious and potentially fleeting it can be; how many people would love to have grandkids in their lives and do not, and how many children would love to have grandparents in their lives but do not. If you are blessed enough to have three living generations in your lives, do not take it for granted.