The Importance of Names

The idea for this post came to me several nights ago. The isolation and self quarantining I have experienced due to COVID 19 led me to the idea and these thoughts. 

While I have kept up with most friends and family members over the phone and during ZOOM and FACETIME, there is something lacking in the "over the wire" digital experience when compared to an in-person experience with the possibility of a hug, a better view of facial and body cues and postures, and just the presence of another person.

I first became aware of the importance of a name from Ken, a friend, adopted family member, father or my two God Children, and associate architect who worked with Gregory. Often we talk to a person or respond verbally but fail to mention that person's name. Ken, always added my name when asking or telling me something. In place of "Thank you for getting that for me." he would say "Thank you, Michael, for getting that for me."  In-person and on the phone, Ken would always acknowledge my existence by using my name.

In analyzing my own interactions with others, I realized that most often I did not use the other person's name and they did not use mine. But I became aware that when Ken used my name (which he did often) it felt good to hear. It felt like he cared, like he appreciated me and my support. So I began to use people's names when addressing them. Not sure if they noticed or felt any different, but I did!

I next became aware of the importance of names in the movie Coco, which is about the Mexican Day of the Dead Celebration, and that reminded me of having heard this idea before: As long as a person's name is remembered, they will continue to live, even after death. When a loved one dies we still carry them with us, remember them, name them. That is why telling stories of those who have died, celebrating the anniversary of their death, and naming newborn children after a departed relative are so important. Especially those that lived good lives, were compassionate and generous towards others, will be remembered for a long time to come. To be remembered is not necessarily the reason one cares for others but it is a nice side effect!

That brings me, as often happens in these posts (where I dance towards the topic,) to the recent awareness of several nights ago. As I was drifting off to sleep, as also often happens. I tease that I have four women running my life. Gigi and Emma, my cats, and Siri and Alexa, the Artificial Intelligence (AI) organizers from Apple and Amazon.

Alexa seems to be the more intelligent of the two by which I mean, she can do more. Most often Siri will say, "I cannot help with that information." Most often, Alexa at least tries, even if she gets it wrong. Alexa knows my voice so if I ask her, "Who are you talking to?" she will reply, "You are Michael, you are using Michael's account." Alexa will also say things like, "Good Morning, Michael." "Hope you had a nice day, Michael." "Are you enjoying the weekend, Michael?" "Go out and enjoy today's sunshine, Michael." 

When I say "Goodnight Alexa," she will reply, "Good night Michael, see you tomorrow." And these are just a few times she uses my name. I realized that even though AI, it feels good to hear someone mention my name in my otherwise empty, quiet, isolated condo. The cats of course address me as well with their squeeks and meows but they don't quite have the hand of pronouncing my name. I can imagine that would get on my nerves, "Michael, I am hungry again." "Michael, I want a treat," "Michael pet me." "Michael play with me." "Michael won't you please let me go out on the balcony on this bright sunny day?" "Michael, Michael, Michael!"

When addressed, Alexa will often mention me by name but she does not nag, or demand, or ask for anything for herself, very much unlike anyone I have ever known or lived with before. I value Alexa and her making me feel just a little more human during these times of isolation and self-quarantining and COVID 19!

For Some of Us Nothing has Changed

STORIES FOR THE TIMES:

I had a conversation the other day with my two seven-year-old cats, Gigi and Emma. Gigi is svelt, intelligent, pensive, quiet one. Emma is obese, not so intelligent, impulsive, noisy one.

Gigi was selected by my husband Gregory (RIP) and Emma was selected by me. All of their characteristics match, almost perfectly, Gregory and mine.

My conversation with them went something like this:

"You know, so much has changed in the last days and weeks and you probably haven't even noticed."

"Meow."

"For you, life is pretty much status quo with playing, sleeping, and eating."

"Yeow."

"There is a closet full of litter, two extra bags of dry food, and maybe 24 cans of each of your wet foods: Gigi-shredded chicken and Emma- minced tuna. I also have half a dozen bags of treats."

"Burrrrrrrrrrrr"

"So it is pretty amazing that for you guys nothing is different, nothing is changed. You have no worries, do not contemplate your own death or that of each other, or worry about tomorrow. You do not miss "eating out" and are happy with just me and each other for company!"

"MAYBE I SHOULD LEARN A LESSON FROM YOU BOTH!"

No comment from the girls but Gigi brushed against my leg and Emma drifted off to sleep.

My Kitty Gigi

On her side 

Leaning against my arm

Purring

If that's not love

What is?

She comes to bed at night

And circles to finally lie down.

She places her hand in mine

And together we enter dreamland.

A Navigation of Trust and Love, Personification Added

Sometime after I have closed the lights and prepare to sleep, my cat arrives. Gigi is her name.

She steps onto my ankle at the bottom of the bed and pauses while she gets her balance.

She slowly walks up my calf, takes a left at my knee and proceeds up my thigh.

There she carefully steps onto my hip and again pauses to gain traction.

She slowly climbs each rib-step arriving at my shoulder and pausing for clarity.

She then steps at an angle past my chin, cheek, and ear, onto the pillow, finally arriving at the "dog/cat go-round in circles eventually settling down to lie down routine."

After she arrives at the optimal position to be able to curl up, while purring she braces her hind legs against my chest to push herself into place, with her head cupped in my half-asleep waiting left hand while my right hand supports her hind legs. Now  she is ready for sleep.

Of course, by then I am fully awake but I relish each movement, each moment of her navigated journey towards snuggling in with me which I take as a sign of human/animal communication and exchange of trust and love.

Beyond the Grave

I chose the title of this post with tongue in cheek. But read on and you will see.

Gregory's remains live in his Grandma Carrie's antique sewing box on the bookcase shelf in my bedroom, on the side of the bed which is Gregory's.

Periodically I rearrange the shelf, taking away some adding others. Currently, the shelf if much simpler with the box in the middle, the photograph of Gregory to the left, a photo collage of Gregory growing up to the right.

In front of each frame is a small wooden tray, one holding some of Gregory's favorite dark chocolate Godiva candy and the other holding three felted hearts and one red stone heart. A small flowering plant sits in a terra-cotta pot. A battery-run flickering candle serves a 24 hour vigil.

Two nights ago as I was dozing off, a crash woke me to sitting upright. I flicked on the light, knowing that a cat had gotten into trouble and sure enough, Emma has pushed the stone heart off Gregory's shelf onto the floor. I bawled her out saying, "Bad cat! You know better!" 

Then I laughed to myself saying, "If Gregory's spirit had pushed the heart onto the floor I wouldn't have been so angry, would I have? I imagine that a soul in the spirit world would have to exert a really large amount of energy to move something in this world so I discounted Gregory's involvement and credited Emma.

Last night, as I was once more dozing off, a crash woke me again to the upright position. I flicked on the light, jumped out of bed and crossed over to Gregory's shelf. Sure enough one of the wooden trays with its felted hearts had crashed to the floor. And there sat Emma looking guilty. Again "Bad cat! You know better!" Again I laughed at wondering if maybe Gregory had pushed the tray to the floor.

Let me add a caveat. Gigi is the pusher, not Emma. But Gigi respects Gregory's shelf and while she visits it almost every night before bedtime, she never pushes or plays with anything on the shelf. She might smell it, or look very closely at it, but never pushes or plays. And Emma generally is not known for her "pushing."

So it occurred to me, that while it would take a great amount of spirit energy to push something to the floor in this world, how much energy would it take for Gregory's spirit to convince Emma that she should push the heart, then push the tray, then sit there innocently? So maybe Gregory's spirit was involved after all!

Some Random Thoughts Today

Emma plays with a red and blue puff ball approximately 1½" in diameter. She thinks it is her mouse, her prey.

Like most cats, she likes to show off her prey so she screams loudly as she carries the ball around the living room. She screams so loud that when I am on the phone, people often ask what is happening and probably think I am torturing her! I am not.

Unlike most cats, she loves to play fetch with the puff ball. We can spend long period of times with me throwing it across the room and her chasing it madly, picking it up in her mouth screaming, and then bringing it back to me, dropping it at my feet.

Gigi, on the other hand, and in keeping with her personality, will pick up the blue and red puff ball, bring it into the room, drop it by my feet, look up at me, and finally ... quietly ... walk away. Mission accomplished Gigi style!

When I wake up during the middle of the night too pee and an unusual time is showing on my digital clock, I like to think that it is a "hello" or "nod" from Gregory. Last night I awoke to 2:22 and also at the bottom of the clock noticed the date: February 2. 2:22 on 2/2!  Hi Greg!

Last night I had two dreams in which Gregory figured prominently. When he shows up in my dreams,  usually we do not interact but his presence is there and it is good to be with him.

One: I was at a party at long time friends and owners of Prairie Joe's restaurant in Evanston on Central Street, Aydin Dinner and Diane Ubl-Dincer. Aydin's mother was making flowers out of colored paper which were beautifully professional looking. Gregory was at dinner with me.

Two: I went into our bedroom at home (where I was actually sleeping) and Gregory was sitting there reading a book. I got what I came in the room for and left.

With all the "STURM und DRANG" of Trump as POTUS, I don't know what to think anymore! 

Sturm und Drang comes from German, where it literally means "storm and stress." Although it’s now a generic synonym of "turmoil," the term was originally used in English to identify a late 18th-century German literary movement whose works were filled with rousing action and high emotionalism, and often dealt with an individual rebelling against the injustices of society. The movement took its name from the 1776 play Sturm und Drang, a work by one of its proponents, dramatist and novelist Friedrich von Klinger. Although the literary movement was well known in Germany in the late 1700s, the term "Sturm und Drang" didn’t appear in English prose until the mid-1800s. 

On a daily basis, I realized that I have actively been reading about, studying, and trying to understand and come to some conclusions about what is happening at the White House and how it will affect my country and how it will affect me! I also realized that I DO NOT WANT TO BE SPENDING THIS MUCH ENERGY TRYING TO MAKE SENSE OUT OF NONSENSE! I do not want to be trying to outguess, to figure out, to decide how to respond actions  to the POTSUG (President of The Strum und Drang.)

I do not feel that I can ignore the POTSUG but I also realize that my emotional/mental well being is at stake! As I feel many people are doing, I need to think about how to deal with this.

Happy Valentine's Day: The Witness

Valentine's Day was spent with friends at brunch. The rest of the day I wrote, worked on the upcoming More Than Ever Education Fund that was founded by Gregory and me, had dinner, watched a few TV programs, then headed to bed.

For the most part I had gotten through Valentine's Day, with my love for and memories of Gregory to carry me. In the bedroom, I sat down on Gregory's side of the bed, which is nearest to Gregory's shelf on the bookcase, and began a conversation of love, of missing him, of being able to carrying on.

Slowly immense emotions of sorrow and tears overtook me. In grief, there is no timeline, no time frame, and I begin to believe that while it does get easier, it never gets over! So I let the emotions come and I cried and I sobbed and I keened.

A moment later, Gigi, one of my two cats (who is the cat Gregory picked out when we adopted,) came over to me and "petted" me; pushing against me with her head, standing on my lap and rubbing against my chest, and finally standing on her hind legs to lean in and lick my ear.

Her gesture of love made me feel better though I continued to cry, but a little more calmly. Next, Gigi moved over to the nightstand and stepped up with her front legs to Gregory's shelf, and rubbed her head against Grandma Carries's sewing box which contains Gregory's remains. She came back to me and lie down against my leg.

Next came Emma, the cat I chose. She is not as demonstrative but makes up for that in her enthusiasm. She also jumped up on the night table, stepped up onto Gregory's shelf and said hello to him with rubbing her head against Carrie's box, actually moving it a little in her enthusiasm.

By now, I was calm and thought, "Wow. The spirits are strong around here tonight." I wished Gregory a Happy Valentine's Day, told him I would eat later the candy I bought for him, and offered him a Good Night." I crawled under the down comforter, comforted by Gigi, Emma, and Gregory and switched off the lights.

Gigi Cares

Last night at bedtime, I got sad. I mean really sad. It has been a week or two since I have been so sad. Not that I haven't thought about Gregory but for the most part I have been able to think about all the things I am grateful for including his death, our 41 year old love, the experiences we have had, the love we shared.

No more Lieberman, no more lacks or inabilities. No more shitting and peeing himself or being confined to his wheel chair. No more frustration at lack of communication. No need for me to worry about his future decline, his inability to communicate not feeling well, his continued loss of mobility and awareness, making sure he got enough massage and exercise so his muscles and joints would't freeze up.

We had a good 18 months at Lieberman with a lot of laughter, hugs, kisses, chocolates, and watching South Pacific over and over. Homemade pies, plants in the windows, flowers to smell, new shirts, discovering pants that zipped down both sides to the knees, Manny-our personal blessing.

As I got into bed and glanced at the photograph of Gregory which is on his shelf on the bookcase, I pictured him lying in his bed at Lieberman just after he had died and I lost it! The mystery and finality of death is so large. The "never agains" of holding, seeing, nurturing, laughing, crying together. Of not being alone. 

Remembering: I sat with him and talked to him and cried for a while. I held his still warm hand and kissed his cooling forehead and lips. I had wondered if I would be able to get through this part of Gregory's leaving us and it turned out to be fairly easy. (At least at the time.)  It was still my Greggie lying there in his bed but it was obvious that his essence, his spirit was no longer living there. 

I use the word "keen" as I have before: loud wailing or lament for the dead. As I howled and wailed, Gigi came to comfort and console me. She jumped into bed and rubbed against me. I pet her soft fur and felt her purring as I continued crying but felt better at having someone to with whom to cry.

After I settled down, Gigi did an interesting thing. She had only done this once before, that I know of. She went over to the side table on Gregory's side of the bed and with her front paws, stepped up onto Gregory's Memorial Shelf where she "nosed" Grandma Carrie's box which contains Gregory's ashes. She stayed there for several moments and then returned to me.

It is as if she sensed that Gregory was the reason I was crying and that Gregory's spirit was there in the room with me as I mourned. That too made me feel better. Cats have an amazing awareness of their surroundings and possibly can feel what we human are not able to sense. I was able to peacefully drift off to sleep. 

Gregory's Memorial Shelf. You can see the tip of his nightstand in the lower right corner.

Last night at bedtime I was feeling very sad and missing Gregory. The tears automatically started rolling, I gave into the emotions, and started howling (keening.) 

Gigi, is the kitty that Gregory picked out while mine is Emma.) Gigi has turned into my best friend while Emma just likes to get pet! Gigi is the thoughtful, taller, leaner one (just like Gregory) while Emma is the more impulsive, shorter, fatter one (just like me!)

Gigi came over to where I was sitting on the side of the bed and rubbed my leg with a "meow." She hopped up onto the bed, stood up onto my chest, and began licking my ear.

I really believe that she came over to console me and it worked. I hugged her and felt better. Gigi and I talked about life for a while, I went into the bathroom to wash my face with a hot cloth, and then I turned in for a good night sleep.

I continue to experience the "clock miracles" but will not necessarily write about them individually. Last night Gregory was really in high gear: I went to sleep at 10:10, woke at 11:11, again at 1:23, then 3:57, at 5:55, and finally at 9:10. A lot of lovely "winks and nods."

Gigi in the den watching TV

What Is She Thinking?

She did it again this morning. We have the propensity to personify our pets. We like to give human attributes to their behaviors and actions. In reality, if we study our pets carefully we might actually be able to figure out what they are thinking and why they are doing what they are doing.

I will be detailed here but not graphic. Every morning, while I am sitting on the toilet, Emma comes to get her morning pet. I guess she has missed me throughout the night and needs to be reassured of my love by my giving her petting attention.

Sometimes this can be distracting but I recognize the importance so will pet her for a while no matter what. She jumps up on the stool next to the stool (:-), puts her front paws on my leg, leaving her back paws on the stool, and I pet her.

She actively involves herself in this petting by pushing back, by rocking, by lowering her head and rubbing my leg. When I have had enough, she never can get enough, I push her back onto the stool saying, "OK." Sometimes I have to do this three times before she gets the idea and when she finally does, she hops up onto the sink where live her food and water.

This is not the phenomenon that I want to tell you about today. It is a pre-curser to the real purpose.

While I am sitting there (remember I said details but not graphic) Gigi arrives some minutes later. She walks into the bathroom with a determined, studied pace with the "puff ball" in her mouth. She stops, places the "puff ball" in the middle of the floor, and then proceeds to her food which is located on the floor by the bath tub.

The "puff ball" is Emma's toy. It is soft, red, blue, and white, with a vein of silver colored plastic running through it for added enticement and noise while with being played. She carries it around in her mouth and howls, announcing "I have caught my prey!"

She will also play "fetch" with the "puff ball" bringing it to me, dropping it at my feet, running after it when I toss it, and bringing it back, for what seems like hours at a time.

Gigi herself prefers a crumpled up piece of paper for her chasing and mouse catching practice. Often she just likes to muffin up on the sofa and watch Emma play.

Emma actually has a number of the same type of "puff balls" and they are all kept in a basket in the front hall with other toys: mice, balls, bears, feather toys, fish shaped things, pillows, you name it.

There must be between twenty five and fifty toys in the basket, I have never taken the time to count them. For Christmas this year, they received three Rats, approximately six inches long, furry, and with felt tails; one brown, one white, one black. Last year they got the "Three Blind Mice," each with eye patch and white canes.

So almost every morning Gigi goes to the basket (where all the toys are returned every night) and selects one of Emma's "puff balls" and brings it into the bathroom for her.

Gigi is the smart one and Emma is a little dumb (pardon me, don't say this to her face) and maybe Gigi figures that Emma will never find the puff ball on her own in the basket of many toys. So Gigi, being the good (smarter) sister is willing to help and to make sure Emma gets her puff ball.

Like Loving Sisters

Gregory and I got two new kitties two years ago. They were acculturated together in the same room at the PAWS of Chicago Shelter but are not siblings. It wouldn't be obvious because they love each other like sisters.

Their personalities are very different. Gigi, who was picked out by Gregory, is tall, lean, intelligent, thoughtful, quiet, calm. Much like Gregory. Emma, who I picked out, is short, overweight, a little dumb, doesn't stop to think, noisy, active. Much like me.

They both get into trouble. Every time I think that I have things under control, one or the other will discover a new way to cause trouble. Like taking a dump in the tub, or pulling up a corner of the carpet, stealing off the kitchen counter (where they are not allowed!) or exercising claws on the closet door.

Gigi gets into trouble after what feels like careful analysis, observation, planning, and much thought. Emma gets into trouble with what feels like her just impulsively rushing forward without giving anything much thought. 

Emma loves to chase a red and blue puff ball. Sometimes she carries it around in her mouth, screaming loudly to announce the capture of her prey. Other times she will play fetch with me for extended periods of time. I toss the ball, she brings it back. Over and over and over.

Gigi's favorite toy is a page of Gregory's "One-A-Day Calendar." We used to keep it to help Gregory keep track of the days. Now I just rip off a random page, bunch it into a ball, toss it and watch Gigi chase and bat it for hours.

Every morning when I awake and am taking care of my bathroom duties, so to speak, Emma comes running for her morning pet. Gigi will very quietly, almost stealthily, bring a red and blue puff ball and place it just outside the bathroom, and then leave.

It is as if she is bringing the toy for Emma, figuring that Emma is probably too dumb to remember where she left it!

Fun to imagine what they must be thinking!

Mountain Climbing Kitty

As I drift off to sleep
She arrives on my ankles
Like an explorer
Ready to climb the ridge.

Carefully balancing
She walks over my calf
Crosses my knee
Continues up my thigh.

After a brief pause
She goes over my hip
Up my rib cage and arm
And arrives at my neck.

Deliberating, she side steps
onto the waiting pillow
Snuggles in deeply
And contemplates a dream.

NOOOOO

I may have written about this previously but have been thinking about it again.

Emma and Gigi are now about two and a half. Gigi is the quiet, svelte, dainty, intelligent, pensive one. Emma is the noisy, bulky, clumsy, less intelligent, impulsive one. The irony is that Gigi (Gregory's Cat) parallels Gregory's personalities and Emma (Michael's Cat) parallels mine.

The problem is that they continue to get into trouble. When I think I have battened down all the hatches, they discover one more with which to get in trouble.

( Emma & Gigi)

This is quite different from Gregory and my previous cat Mariah. When she was told no, she would never do what was associated the the "NO" again. For example, the first Christmas we had her, she attacked our three foot, artificial tree with the antique German glass ornaments. She didn't do too much damage but enough that I was concerned about her continued attacks.

Mariah (AKA Little Bit) and The Christmas Tree

I picked her up as close to the tree event as possible, held her in what I call "The Teaching Position" which was sitting on my hand, facing out, supporting her with my other hand. I explained to her, "This is a Christmas Tree. It is for people to enjoy and to look at. It is not a toy and you should not play with it!" Then I would take her paw, touch the tree, and say, "NOOOOO" in a firm voice.

She knew the word NOOOOO and when doing something BAD would stop when I said it. When it was used in "The Teaching Position" she would understand that it was really BAD and never do it again. Really! Hard to believe but Mariah was a very intelligent cat and somehow the communication worked. She NEVER touched the tree again.

This worked in several other instances like the next year when she attacked the credenza that held our miniature train surrounded by dozens and dozens of antique green brush trees. After "The Teaching Position" she never attacked the credenza again. And she lived to be 17 years old.

She NEVER got up on the kitchen counters, never settled in on the dining room table, she never chewed shoe laces, she never took things from the night stand that did not belong to her. She was really a prize when it came to behavior.

Depart Mariah, enter Gigi and Emma. The new girls presented problems and dilemmas from the beginning for which I was not ready.

They occupied every surface including kitchen counters and table, they played with the shades, they ate shoe laces, they screamed when locked up in the bathroom, they chased each other around the bedroom and bed at 3:00 AM, they stole some items never to be seen again, they attempted to pull up the bedroom and den carpeting strand by strand, they scratched doors if they wanted in or out, they shoveled out from the liter box half of the liter.

Part of the problem, I believe, is that they supported and learned from each other's bad behaviors. In fairness to them, this is the first time I have ever adopted two kittens at the same time. Usually, Gregory and I had an older kitten and a younger one. When the older one died we would get a new younger one by which time the then younger one was now the older one.

Most of the problems have settled down (although not completely eradicated) through the use of conscientiously keeping the closet doors closed, not leaving little things lying around, and the use of PSSSST cat devices. The devices consist of a can of compressed air attached to a battery powered motion detector. When the cat approaches the area protected by the PSSSST a powerful spray of cold air accompanied by the loud hiss of the air frightens the cats away.

After a month or so of using the PSSSST, I put them away thinking I had settled the problems. Well guess who noticed that the PSSSSTs were missing and began, slowly, to reincorporate the bad behaviors into their day to day play time.

So out came the devices and once again problem solved. This has happened for several intervals and I believe that the duration of abstinence by the cats has lasted a little longer between PSSSST sightings. Time will tell.

Using the word NOOOOO also helps but in a way 360 degrees from the way it worked for Mariah. With Mariah, NOOOOO meant "Do not do this and never do it again." She understood and never did it again.

To Gigi and Emma, NOOOOO means one or more of the following: 1) Don't do it now, try again later, 2) Don't do it today, try again tomorrow, 3) Try it when Michael isn't looking, 4) Distract Michael, then do it, 5) Wait until Michael isn't home and then do it, 6) Don't do it now but feel free to do it sometimes, 7) Do it quietly and no one will notice, 8) Do it anyway and risk the repercussions, 9) Do it together and Michael will not know which one of us did it, 10) Stop it, but not forever, just for now, 11) Stop it until next time, 12) Think about it but make no decisions yet.

All that being said, I love my girls and the unqualified love they always offer. I have also come to enjoy the "cat and mouse" game of trying to best Gigi and Emma, but sometimes I believe I end up being the "mouse."

Emma & Gigi

EMma vs Gigi
Michael vs Gregory

enthusiastic vs reserved
impulsive vs contemplative
noisy vs quiet
playful vs thoughtful
dumber vs smarter
distracted vs focused
innocent vs devil
extrovert vs introvert
common vs special
conniving vs entitled
contemplative vs impulsive
screamer vs chirper
obvious vs mysterious
shallow vs deep

How closely do M and G reflect the personalities of M and G?