9,000 Died. Listen.

In less than an hour, 9,000 perished.

The ship was built to accommodate about 1,900 people.

Worst maritime disaster in history and her story lost to the waves that swallowed her.

I have 2 degrees in history, the first of which required multiple European history courses to be taken at both Santa Monica College and UCLA, but it's only now, about 75 years later, I learned about the #1 worst maritime disaster in history. This is what "under rug swept" does.

I teach Rūta Šepetys's Between Shades of Gray - an historical fiction novel championed by Lithuanians because it's the first time a mainstream book was written to tell the story about the atrocities Lithuanians, Latvians, and Estonians among others suffered under Stalin. An act of genocide to which America turned a blind eye in order to unite with Russia to defeat Hitler. After so many years of teaching that book, I decided I should read something else by Šepetys. I read Salt to the Sea in one day and would be haunted by its story, this disaster, for days.

The ship, Wilhelm Gustloff, was originally built in the 1930s by Hitler to be used as a type of cruise ship for the German Labour Front program which subsidized leisure activities for German workers. One had to be chosen by the Nazi Party, however, to get to sail on her. All the rooms on the ship were built in equal size except, of course, for one; the one to be used solely by Hitler. By 1939, the Gustloff was mainly docked, and it wouldn't be until 1944 when it was to be used to carry injured German soldiers and refugees from East Prussia to Germany over the Baltic Sea.

Registration of the soldiers and refugees stopped on January 27th when the number count of passengers reached 7,956; however, witnesses say that another 2,000 people boarded the ship before she set sail on January 30, 1944. Remember, the ship was built for roughly 1,900 people and, for perspective, the Titanic lost 1,500 people in 1912.

A Soviet submarine had trailed the Gustloff for some time before firing 4 torpedoes. Only 3 would make a direct hit; the fourth had a problem in release and never fired off.

            A deep popping came from the ship. Its bones were snapping, breaking

            from the contortion pressure. The rounded stern sloped vertically

            toward the sky. People dangled from their railings, screaming. Others

            plummeted backward to their death. An explosion detonated from 

            within the boat under the water. Suddenly, the entire ship lit up...And

            then the lights vanished. The boat disappeared into the black...[as it

            sunk] to the bottom of the sea [with thousands still trapped inside.]

            A momentary quiet followed leaving nothing but the sound of the

            wind and waves. (pp. 350-351)

Silence.

For decades, silence.

It's unfathomable to me. These kinds of disasters don't fit into my brain. The sentence, "People dangled from their railings, screaming" reminds me of the people at the Twin Towers on 9/11, another unfathomable disaster 57 years later.

I'm haunted by all the cruelty we humans can inflict on each other and I'm haunted by the lies and secrecy these cruelties birth. The sinking of the Gustloff was silenced because Germany couldn't admit to a defeat. When people discussed it, they were immediately shut down or were told they were making it all up. I imagine, eventually, people just stopped talking about it. "Under rug swept."

I have never envisioned a utopian society. In fact, I have trouble seeing how that would even work successfully. But the level of hatred and the level of violence that groups of people can, and do, inflict on to the world hurts my heart. This hatred and violence that comes in various forms such as attacking a country, starting a genocide, or ostracizing a group based on skin color, sexuality, or gender identification starts with a seedling of self-hatred that grows and organizes with others who feel the same way. It's never admitted, though, this self-hatred. It just presents itself in hatred for another. If a person is comfortable with him/herself, then it wouldn't matter that the person next to him/her is wealthier or poorer, is of one religion or the other, or is part of the LGBQT+ community or not.

And truth will always prevail. Maybe not in one's lifetime, but it will. It seeks light. And it will prevail because someone, somewhere is connected to an incident and will feel inclined to tell the story. Yes, there have been movies made and books written about the sinking of the Wilhelm Gustloff, but, I think, it still remains mostly hidden. Šepetys found out that some cousins were supposed to be on that ship, but didn't make it on before she set sail. To Šepetys, the disaster became personal. And while I personally don't have a connection to this sinking that I know of, it is one more atrocity connected to World War II during which my grandparents were alive. There is a collective memory of the war that is very much alive. So, one can sweep all one wants, but the dust will never truly settle. Memories travel. Ever wonder why we're drawn to certain things, certain stories, certain parts of history more than others? 

This makes me think of epigenetics - the study of inheriting memories. Scientists have found, at least among animals, that memory seems to be inherited. This seems to be particularly present with phobias and trauma. I fully believe this could apply to humans too. If so, phobias and memories could be passed down which would mean that experiences family members had during WWII, for example, could very well be deeply ingrained in our psyche. I have always believed we are all connected in ways we cannot fathom. Scientists have long found that the way we think about situations affects our health. It's a reason there's such a push to be positive because our cells react positively to good thoughts. Scientists have also long found that when we're surrounded by a tremendous amount of negativity, it suppresses our immunity. Imagine what else it's probably doing to our bodies. Cells get altered. I don't see how that couldn't NOT affect any future offspring. Again, we are all connected in some way shape or form.

Here's a simplified example. Ever experience bad customer service? You don't know the employee, but your paths happen to cross on a day that, let's say, something bad happened to the employee. That person's negative attitude irritates you which makes you snap back. The employee gets deeper into a funk and now you're affected. This negative exchange sits with you long after you leave the place of business. You share it on Facebook and/or Twitter, you tell family, etc. Whatever happened in that employee's life affected you and you kept that negativity going with others. This is a simple example, but it's a way to show the interconnectedness that extends far beyond the bubble of what happened to the employee in his or her life. Imagine that on a global scale and with atrocities. Someone who survives a sinking, a concentration camp, a plane flying into a tower...the effects of such trauma changes a person all the way to the DNA level. I'm no scientist, yes, but I feel this in my heart to be true. We feel each other's joy and we feel each other's pain. Who's to say that all doesn't get passed down genetically?

No one can stop atrocities from happening, unfortunately. And none of us can change the past, but the least we can do is honor those who perished so senselessly on January 30, 1944. It is our duty as their future generations to pay respect to the lives they lived. One of the ways we can do that is by pulling back the rug and giving their story light. Let us take them out of hiding. Give them a voice.

This is my humble attempt to do just that.

Click here for a list of survivors and other details such as which ship rescued them, a list of those missing, and those who died.

Some other books about the sinking of the Wilhelm Gustloff: Death In the Baltic: The World War II Sinking of the Wilhelm Gustloff by Cathryn Prince and The Damned Don't Drown: The Sinking of the Wilhelm Gustloff by A.V. Sellwood, and The Cruellest Night: Germany's Dunkirk and the Sinking of the Wilhelm Gustloff by Christopher Dobson

the reawakening

just a day. one day. that's all i needed to complete the challenge.

a year and half ago, i bought a book titled Do One Thing a Day That Scares You and i have done, to date, exactly two things. my second challenge was to live without social media for one day. i've done that before, but it was never on purpose. this time, it would be a conscious choice.

and, boy, conscious it was.

typically, i hopped on FB multiple times throughout the day for 5-10 minutes at a time. i'd be in between something and often scold myself for not just letting myself "be" for those moments, but it was an easy voice to shut off. so, on that first day, it was no surprise to have to stop myself multiple times from logging on. i realized how hopping on so many times affected my attention and how often i used this as an excuse to push off starting a project. this would then lead me to stay on social media longer than planned which would delay starting a project, if at all. then i'd beat myself up for letting another day slip by without getting to "that" (whatever "that" would be). at the end of that first day, i realized that i got SO.MUCH.DONE. i then decided to extend the challenge one more day. then, one more. then, one more, and now i'm at 4 weeks.

keeping myself off social media opened up a world i had forgotten about. it also made me realize how social media affected my mood, and living without it has allowed me to feel grief on a level i didn't think possible because i was present with every emotion. 

let me first say what social media i'm on. i have FB, instagram, and twitter accounts. FB was my only social media outlet for most of the last 10 years. i signed up with twitter over a year ago and quickly realized it made my blood boil faster than FB did, so i rarely went on it by choice. i signed up for an instagram account last year and have enjoyed that immensely as i use it for artistic reasons only. 

the internet is such an easy place to spread misinformation, and as much as i would like to lay misinformation at the feet of trump and his supporters, this issue belongs to everyone, even me. i have been called out more than once for sharing something on FB that was false. and, while i do try to take the time before sharing to do a quick search to see what other news sources are saying about a particular topic, things slip. having to research an article's authenticity takes time and that is scarce. lame excuse, but true.

so i went back to reading just the paper that gets delivered. i know i'm getting news that's at least 24 hours old, but i don't care. i'm reading from a legitimate source and i don't have to go research on-line to see if it's true. i trust the journalist at the Los Angeles Times to have already done that for me which is why they're the journalists and i am not. anyone can pretend to be a journalist on-line, and too many do. people also forget opinion is not fact. for this, we can thank trump and his supporters.

even though i'm reading the news from one main source, i still get enraged by whatever idiotic thing trump has done, thought, or said, but i then take that anger and release it by working on, and completing, a project, by playing with my children (imagine that!), by cooking, by going outside and watering my plants and smiling at the butterflies and birds. this is just a small example of what has changed and it has been amazing for my soul. by popping on FB multiple times throughout the day, i've been bombarding myself with all the horrible things that exist in this world. i was angry ALL the time. all.the.time. i felt like the end of the world was happening every day. i worried about the future. i couldn't believe how stupid our country had gotten. all this and more, every day, buzzing around in my brain. for 4 weeks now i have been free of this. do i still worry about the future? hell yes. but it's not all-consuming right now. i find myself more present than before in whatever i'm doing in the moment that i'm doing it.

i've been listening to music more and reading. reading! both for pleasure and academic. i've been writing. i rediscovered photography with my Canon A-1 film camera and, in those "in between" moments, i sit and stare at a wall or cuddle my kids. 

i have also been grieving. hard. i cleaned out closets and approached projects i had wanted to do since we moved 3 years ago and others that i've been wanting to get to for 15-20 years. going through decades of photos tossed me into a whirlwind of emotions. i found letters that my mom left me written by my grandfather and some by my good-for-nothing father. my mom had told me about these letters throughout my life, but i thought they got lost in either the multiple moves my mom made in lithuania or in a flood that she had some years ago. i never realized i had them for the last 10 years, and making this discovery crippled me emotionally for a while. i don't think i would've been able to feel so deeply if i had hopped on FB, nor do i think i would've been able to process my findings for as long as i needed. i'm not someone who hides her life or emotions, but what of it if i had posted about my find that day? people would have read it, commented on it (maybe), clicked "like" (maybe) and then my feed would've scrolled on, the sentiment buried. just like we bury our emotions with all these social media distractions throughout the day. is it any wonder depression has skyrocketed? we hide behind a screen curating our lives to be the best version we feel it should be. most of us hide the ugly, and for those of us who don't necessarily do that, creating a post about the ugly doesn't do justice to the emotion's reality and, so, you're still left kind of empty no matter how many "likes" or comments you get. it took a few days for me to process and accept finding what i thought was lost, and without FB as a distraction, i couldn't bury it all in my feed.

will i be off social media forever? no, probably not, but i went back to instagram about a week or two ago and discovered that i'm spending more time on it than before which made me realize that social media feeds my "all or nothing" personality. it's this "all or nothing" that has gotten me into so much trouble throughout my life. i'm afraid that i will struggle with any attempts to limit my time on social media. 

as a result, i repeatedly ask myself, do i miss facebook? and, honestly? not really, though i have missed communicating with a few people with whom i'd communicate on a daily basis. i've seen that the way the world is now, social media is how we communicate with people. is this good? i don't think so, but i don't know what the solution is. i feel the social media ball is rolling down a hill and there's no way to slow it down, much less stop it. i also don't know how high that hill is, but it's very obvious the more people we connect with, and to, on social media, the lonelier we, as a society, feel. i read somewhere recently that we humans need human interaction and touch in order to function normally. this is one of the reasons it is strongly encouraged to hug children as much as possible; it releases endorphins which helps with development. if we don't get "x" amount of touch per day, we can slip into depression. how much time do you spend behind a screen vs spending time with someone, getting/giving a hug, holding a hand, or giving/getting a kiss? i bet the former gets more time. i know for the last 10 years it did for me.

it's up to us to change what's not working in our lives. the internet and social media are addictive, and while i don't have an addictive personality, per se, i totally believe i was - am - addicted. my challenge now is to find a balance between being a part of this century and not losing myself. i didn't like being angry or upset all the time or, dare i say, finding myself jealous of friends' posts, but i did often come across useful information that i wouldn't otherwise see. i need to find that balance, and find a way to have more contact in-person and less contact via computer screen. i challenge you to do the same. 

the only constant is change

two years without my mom.

i had been so eager to get to the 1-year mark because i thought i would magically stop feeling the hole in my heart. but, alas, that did not happen. two things did happen after that first year which caught me off-guard. one, i started to feel an emergence from a dark cloud, which i didn't think i would ever feel. it was baby steps, but the emergence let me feel other things again. by the summer, 16-17 months after she passed, i found i was again aware of my surroundings. i could now look around the house we bought 2 years prior and unpack boxes that were forgotten about, hang up art, or think about decorating for any holidays. most importantly, though, i could be present with my children again.

that first year was all about survival for me. it's cliche to say, "My children saved me," but, in a way, it was true. they had to be dressed, be fed, get to pre-school, have play-dates, etc., and it was up to me to do all that when all i wanted to do was lay in bed and/or stare at a wall. i had to put aside any grief and focus on them, and at the end of the day i was too tired to think or feel. but the grief would creep up and it would come on quickly and suddenly; the second thing that caught me off-guard. it would come out in rare moments i was in the car by myself and i would lose control of my emotions. or washing dishes. or folding laundry. and while these moments in the last year came less, what i didn't count on was the intensity of them staying with me for a few days before getting back on my feet. i felt that for every 2 steps forward i took, those intense moments set me back 5. this made the second year of grief to be a lot more difficult than the first. i felt her physically gone in every one of my pores. and being so much more aware meant the holidays, especially Thanksgiving, were more difficult to get through than the first year. any firsts that happened last year were that much more painful, such as walking my older daughter to school on her first day and leading her to her line for the first time, and then saying goodbye just about killed me.

there are many ways in which my mom's death changed me to the core, and i'm still sorting through those changes and what they mean to me. the sense of finality is so ingrained in me now. i have always strived to live by the words, "Live each day to its fullest"; however, being present with someone who takes her last breath made those words grow life-sized and turn into neon-colored block letters for me. i feel those words. they are not abstract to me anymore. i savor more moments in my life. i tell myself to risk a little more. i remind myself more often to be grateful of the life i've had up to this point.

i still struggle with witnessing my mom's passing. i vacillate between being grateful and happy we were able to fulfill her last wish, and anger because i will forever have those images seared into my memory. it is also my last memory of her.

i feel her sometimes and have dreamt of her, and, of course, i miss her like hell. but i see her in my baby niece and that always makes me smile. i hope i keep feeling her close and i look forward to our fleeting moments in my dreams, but i especially look forward to seeing her spirit come through in her grandchildren.

i don't know what to expect from this upcoming year. from what i'm told, the hole never goes away, but its pain lessens. i can already tell this is true. i try to remind myself that our mom wouldn't want me (us) to dwell on things. for as beautifully, vivaciously, and chaotically as she chose to live her life, and despite seeking out ways to challenge the status quo, one thing she was incredible at was accepting things as they were. she would often remind me that i was stressing over things that i could not control, and i've been trying to work on keeping myself focused on that. i saw her battle breast cancer in 1995 and i saw her fight for 12 weeks in late 2015 through early 2016, defying predictions of top specialists at the Mayo Clinic in Phoenix. she shocked nurses and doctors with her will to pull through. her numbers weren't matching the situation she was in. they couldn't make sense of it. but there is always a check-mate and this was cancer's turn. while i'll never know for sure, i think there were a few days of sadness, and maybe even anger, on my mom's part once this reality was presented to her. but 48 hours after meeting with her team where we were told there was nothing they could medically do for her anymore, i noticed her entire demeanor had changed. she was ready to come home and she was no longer in battle mode. she was in acceptance mode. she still had 8 days of hell to go through. we all did. but underneath all of that was the acceptance that this particular life's adventure was coming to an end. out of all that i witnessed and went through in those 12 weeks, this is the one, last, big lesson she taught me. it was also very much in character. so, in honor of her, i've written out the lyrics of the song we played at her request during her memorial - Frank Sinatra's, My Way:

And now, the end is near

And so I face the final curtain

My friend, I'll say it clear

I'll state my case, of which I'm certain

I've live a life that's full

I've traveled each and every highway

But more, much more than this

I did it my way

Regrets, I've had a few

But then again, too few to mention

I did what I had to do

And saw it through without exemption

I planned each chartered course

Each careful step along the byway

And more, much more than this

I did it my way

Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew

When I bit off more than I could chew

But through it all, when there was doubt

I at it up and spit it out

I faced it all and stood tall

And did it my way

I've loved. I've laughed and cried

I've had my fill my share of losing

And now,...

Buči buči myliu myliu.*

*Lithuanian, "Kisses, hugs/I love you."

Minorities and Illegals Hogging up Obamacare?

The 2016 election brought out so much ugliness that it's sometimes overwhelming to think about much less digest. There's been analysis, finger-pointing and name-calling, but none of it changes the past. It's important to look to the future which, I admit, is hard to do given the direction that the federal government wants to take us.

One of the issues the 2016 election brought to the surface is the rampant racism, hatred, and misogyny that pulses through America's veins. Sometimes these pulses are larger and stronger than other times, but they have never ceased; they are always there.

Republicans like to put topics like welfare and healthcare into clean little boxes with such labels like "privilege". I remember under Bush, Jr., Republicans began to use the word "privilege" when talking about welfare and how it should be reformed. To some degree, I actually agree with them on this topic, but it certainly is NOT, nor has it EVER been a "privilege." We all pay into the till that is welfare and, should we ever need to use it, it is our right to have that money, not a privilege to. People forget this. But, Republicans count on that. They are master manipulators and master marketers. The Democrats could learn a lesson or two from them when it comes to mass marketing an idea and selling it.

As a result of this ability to master manipulate, Republicans have expertly convinced white people that minorities and (illegal) immigrants have stolen rights from Americans. What they really mean is that minorities and immigrants have stolen rights from white Americans. On this note, enter Trump. He rode this wave all the way to the White House. Taking this fear of "the other," he and Republicans campaigned for Obamacare repeal arguing that not only is it too costly, but that it is "giving away" healthcare to all those who didn't deserve it. In other words, the federal government is giving away healthcare to minorities and immigrants, mainly the illegal ones, and that this should be stopped.

But....really? Is this true? Are the minorities and illegals hogging up Obamacare?

Los Angeles Times published this article about children and healthcare. Taking a map of rural US counties, they were broken down by which counties voted for Hillary and which ones voted for Trump, and how much of those counties' constituents depended on government-issued healthcare.

For example, Fayette County in West Virginia overwhelmingly voted for Trump, yet 53% of its children rely on Medicaid and CHIP (Children Health Insurance Program).

564,000 people in West Virginia are covered by Medicaid.

47% of West Virginia children with special healthcare needs are covered by Medicare.

Fayette County in West Virginia is also mainly white. [1]

Do you think the parents of Fayette County are somewhat concerned as congressional Republicans move to cut hundreds of billions of dollars over the next decade from Medicaid? These parents voted for someone who degrades women, stole from other businesses (by not paying them for services), filed for bankruptcy multiple times, doesn't understand policy or how to govern, yet rode to the White House on a mountain of racist and hatred-filled sentiments. He has even surrounded himself with people whose agenda is to bring back a white America (whatever that means). The hatred and fear of "the other" is so deep among white people that they willingly gambled on their children's health. Please read that sentence again.

Here's what kids lose without coverage:

- fewer to no check-ups

- fewer to no immunizations

- more lost days of school

- more trips to the emergency room

- families must choose: food or healthcare

I'm no economist, but the above short-list of what children lose without insurance doesn't seem to invest in a child's future which then, looking long-term, doesn't invest in the future of America. A sick child doesn't go to school who then falls behind who then drop-outs who then becomes a burden on society because s/he has no developed skills. How is this a cycle people want?

Here's what a kid gains when insured:

- better health

- improved reading and test scores

- lowers risk of being a high school drop out

- increases future earnings

20 years ago, about 14% of children nation-wide lacked healthcare coverage. Today, that number is at 5%. How is this a bad thing? Yet, "Senate GOP legislation would slash more than a third of federal Medicaid funds over the next 20 years and nearly double the ranks of the uninsured by 2026." [2] I always thought the idea for a country was to move forward, not backward.

Going back to the map of the rural US counties for a sec. Out of 780 counties looked at nationwide, 622 had a majority of children on Medicaid.  Most of these children are white (whose parents voted for Trump, let's not forget), and these children, the future of America, are at risk of losing healthcare if Trump and Republicans get their way. Please read that sentence again.

Aren't Republicans the party of "family values?" Are children no longer a part of that equation?

"The funding cap in the Senate bill would increase only at the rate of inflation, leaving states with an increasingly larger share of the medical costs, which have typically increased faster than inflation. And because the same flow of federal Medicaid money covers care for children as well as for poor seniors and the disabled, deep cuts would probably force states to decide who is more deserving of medical care." [3]

States will have to decide whether children deserve medical care or whether poor seniors and the disabled deserve medical care. Please. Read that sentence again. Then let me know who of you is itching to run for State Assembly, State Senate, or Governor with that possibly on the horizon.

A country is only as good as its constituents. If the constituents won't have a heart for everyone, including those who look different from them, there is no healthcare out there that can save that heart.

Map of the counties. [4] More detail found in article cited above, but for additional information, including seeing the above map, please visit here. 

For more information on the subject please read The Atlantic's "How Kids Would Fare Under the American Health Care Act."

[1] Levey, Noam N. "Children's health at risk in Trump country." Los Angeles Times, 06 July 2017: A1. Print.

[2] Levey, Noam N. "Children's health at risk in Trump country." Los Angeles Times, 06 July 2017: A9. Print.

[3] Levey, Noam N. "Children's health at risk in Trump country." Los Angeles Times, 06 July 2017: A9. Print.
[4] Krishnakumar, Priya and Levey Noam. 2017 July 6. "Medicaid's vital role for children in Trump Country." www.latimes.com/projects/la-na-pol-medicaid-children/ 

Losing Working Women

If I went back to tell my 18-year old Self that not only would I be married, have kids, *and* be a SAHM, that Self would laugh at me, slap me, tell me to shut up, and then go on about her day procrastinating. I was so career-driven back then. Er, OK, I was so in love with the idea of having a career but was too scared to chase the one thing I want(ed) more than anything. I find it's easier to just say I was career-driven. Especially since I couldn't figure out what I would actually settle into since I was interested in everything.

Flash forward many moons and here I am. A stay-at-home mom. What? Now, right before getting pregnant with #1, I landed a great job finally taking a real shot at my dreams. I quickly recognized a group of people I connected with and production companies I would've liked to have laterally moved into figuring that if we weren't having kids, I was going to dive into a 60-hour work week schedule with pleasure. But, 8 weeks later, #1 had different plans.

Getting ready for the baby, my husband and I had many conversations about whether I, being the one making less money, should be the one to stay home for the first few years or whether I should go back to work. After some research, and considering other reasons like the benefits of having a parent stay-at-home, we realized it wasn't cost-effective to have me go back to work. It was hard knowing I'd have to give up the budding steps I had started to take toward a career I wanted.

Usually having to wait a bit to read the paper, I immediately read the LA Times article Why are so many women dropping out? As predicted, I shared a similar story with the women in the article and agreed with the research found. There are several reasons women are dropping out of the work-force, but I'm going to focus on the lack of affordable child-care. It's not easy sacrificing an income, especially living in southern CA, but we would be handing over my income to a day-care or nanny while, at the same time, the children would be seeing very little of either parent. What's the benefit in that? Why have kids then?

I would've loved to send my children to a Montessori school. Depending on the length of time that care is needed, the prices range from $13,555-$18,145/year (2016-2017). A co-op I found in Santa Monica in 2014 would've been $8,400/year for 3 hours a day with the agreement to volunteer your time in the classroom and at one of the two or three fundraisers they held each year.

According to Child Care Aware of America, infant cost at a center in CA is on average $13,343 whereas public college tuition is $9,267. Make of that what you want. The average salary in CA is about $64,500 (2015 data). Nationally, it's $55,775. In 2012, day-care cost in CA was $12,068. In 2016, it was $13,343. In four years, that's at a 10.56% increase. Whose salary has gone up almost 11% in 4 years? Anyone? Bueller? (1)

We had children later in life and that's mainly because we felt we didn't want any, though I, personally, couldn't commit to that 100%. I knew I maybe didn't want kids, but there was always a "but" at the end of that followed by ellipses because I just didn't know how to finish that sentence. 

There's so much pressure to have kids from outside sources like TV and movies to the more interior sources like family and friends. Then, you find yourself expecting and everyone is overjoyed. Then you have the kid and realize all the support is gone. Maternity and paternity leave in the US are a joke. I can't help but wonder why there is so much pressure in the US to have a family when we have built a structure that does everything but support a family, especially a new one. I will refrain from getting into the hostility towards women of child-bearing age, but will mention that the lack of support affects fathers as well.

Women in Finland, e.g., start maternity leave seven weeks before the due date. They then get 16 weeks of paid leave and after a child turns 3, parents can partake in partial care leave where they split their time between work and child care until the kid is in 2nd grade. There is also 8 weeks of paternity leave.

Denmark gives 18 weeks maternity leave at full pay. The father gets two, consecutive weeks of paternity leave. (Though that's kind of wimpy, if you ask me. Dads are important!!)

Sweden gives 16 weeks at 80% pay on top of the 18 weeks given to mothers. That's a little over 8 months that baby stays with mom. Fathers get 90 days paid paternity leave.

Other countries to make the list of great maternity and paternity leave are Belgium, Iceland, Serbia, Norway, Hungary, Estonia, and Lithuania.

Of course, an argument can be made that these countries listed don't have the kind of economy that we have. Though, that could be debatable now, but I'm not an economist, so I won't go there. But, for a country like the US that pushes to have a family, we certainly don't invest in them. As a whole, we work long hours that take a toll on our mental and emotional health which then ripples into how we relate to our family members.

I'm not saying child-care should be free. And, as a parent, it's important to know that responsible, emotionally-stable people work with my children. As a result, it's easy to think that the more something costs, the chances are higher that there will be better care. And, while this is usually the case, I know from a family member who worked at a premier, top-notch day-care and pre-school on the Westside, that this is not always true. I, personally, observe interactions between teachers and students, and pay close attention to children's demeanor in the environment. This speaks more to me than any price-tag. But, I digress.

I feel that we've lost sight of things. We should have affordable child-care. People shouldn't have to feel like they're losing by having kids. There is so much you gain by having them, but it can be hard to keep sight of that if one has to quit a job and then live (welfare) check to (welfare) check as Mari Villaluna does (as mentioned in the LA Times article).

If a woman wants to work, she should. It shouldn't have to be an either/or choice.

(1) To see the average cost of child care in 2016 in your state, visit here.

Two Deaths, One Week

I started this last week with the sad news of the passing of my dear friend's step-father the day before - which was her wedding day. Her beautiful, emotional, and touching wedding that he was supposed to attend, but didn't. I ended the week yesterday afternoon finding out about a dear family friend's tragic murder in Sequim, Washington (along with her dog) 3 days ago by a young man she knew well. He was recently diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia, hospitalized on Tuesday because of an incident where he attacked his mother with a pencil. He had been released the next day from where he went directly to Cynthia's house.

I am stunned to know someone who was not just murdered, but viciously so. I am beyond heartbroken that two families I know have lost a loved one unexpectedly. I am heartbroken that a friend has to start her marriage under such a dark cloud, and that another family has to grieve a loved one lost at the hands of another.

One thing that has made me take a step back is reading comments about the young man who murdered Cynthia. He is sick. He needs help. He needs medication. What he did is wrong. But he is SICK. People are attacking him and calling him names. They probably don't know about his diagnosis but it underscores how quick we are to judge. How quick we are to misunderstand.

Death is so final. I know this brings out a "Duh". But until someone in your inner circle dies, you can't understand the depth of that word "final." I didn't even understand completely despite the painful death of a close neighbor in 1996 from bone cancer and another very close family friend passing in 1999. To me, death was something that happened to others. Of course I knew I'd die one day, but it was in the abstract. When my mom died, mortality punched me in the face. Now, I know. And the depth of the word "final" keeps deepening because, at least, initially, in the first year or two (maybe three, I don't know) there are constant reminders: the empty car you have to sell, the clothes that need to be packed and given away, the books and furniture that need to be given away, bank accounts that need to close... I see all this and think, This will be my stuff one day. My kids will have to do this one day. My kids will feel this one day.

I want to say something inspirational but it all feels cliched. Life is hard. It is unfair. It gives relentlessly and take away mercilessly. We can feel or we can push away. I have mentally aged a lot since my mom's passing last year, and with each subsequent death, I understand more deeply that all we truly have is but this moment right now. Then, it's gone. And we have a new moment. Then, that's gone. And so the clock ticks.

We're so fond of compartmentalizing our lives, prioritizing what is most important to us. For many, it is money at the top of that "most important" list which then dictates every decision in order to reach that goal. I remember the day my mom died, I desperately kept counting the few dollars I found in her purse convincing myself that if I kept counting her money, she'd come back. Money is tangible. You need it. If I just held her money in my hand, she'd be coming back, right? But the fact is, no matter the way of death, you take nothing with you. No body, no car, no money. In the next place, these things aren't needed. Or maybe there's something better.

I can't make these families' pain go away as much I would like to do so. I told my husband last night when I broke the news to him about Cynthia that grieving is such a horrible feeling that I wish I could protect everyone I know from that dark, lonely pain. But I can't. So all I can hope to do is hold my wish deep in my heart for these families to find truth and honesty within themselves to help them cope with this journey. I also hope deeply that we, as a society, get serious about mental health. No one deserves the kind of death Cynthia got. She loved life. She loved to travel. She loved people. A big part of her reminded me of my mom. I hope she is flying free, laughing, smiling, forgiving.