All Humans Suffer

This post has been in draft form since July 8, 2005...

ORIGINAL:

Although Rachel might love me, she doesn’t like me. She doesn’t respect me. If I encounter people in my life who don’t like me or respect me, I may continue to love them, but I minimize activities such as contacting them, caring for them, helping them, or even thinking about them much. Today — July 8, 2005 — I will try to begin to do the same with respect to Rachel: to let go of my deepest bonds of love and concern for her. She doesn’t want to love me or be close to me.

Here are words that Rachel uses to describe me:

- unstable
- mean
- scary
- evil
- psychopath

- borderline
- manipulative
- selfish
- bitch

These loaded words are used carelessly, and accompany the lies Rachel tells to propagate her story, which begins: “Hello, I’m Rachel Grossman, and I hate my mother.” By doing this, she will please her paternal aunt and grandmother, and continue to operate in her psychological comfort zone (where she’s been trained to be part of a triangle of uncomfortable family relations, in which nearly all praise and attention was earned when she dishonored me — her mother, the one who provided consistent love, attention, care, and protection — the only one who always put Rachel first). No wonder she’s so negative, self-sabotaging, and depressed!

I’m not sure why I demean myself in response to Rachel’s treatment of me, but I don’t want to do it any more. All of my friends, including those most fond of Rachel, have advised me to stop doing anything for her, and to stop “sucking her ass.”

(perhaps these quotations are enlightening:

“The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness.”
- Honore De Balzac, 1799-1850, French Novelist

“A mother who is really a mother is never free.”
- Honore De Balzac, 1799-1850, French Novelist)

UPDATE:

Reading this draft today, nineteen years later, I now exist on a plateau of detachment, nearly indifference. I do not think about Rachel very often (today is rare, and triggered by reports of someone reading nearly every post in this blog).

To my knowledge, Rachel continues to fortify her mendacious stories. I doubt that she is able to work out her own attachment issues — issues that will continue to plague her throughout her life, and will harm any and every one of her relationships. She has rewritten history (and amplified her rewrites with each retelling) such that her distorted and false memories of very specific situations and conditions are seared into her persona. The fundamental reasons for her feelings and behaviors continue to be unrecognized. Rachel has buried her early trauma — of neglect and subsequent abandonment by her birth mother — under a mendacious mountain of fallacious tales about me. From around age 18, new personality patterns emerged that were instigated and fueled by her Aunt Patty, and Rachel began reacting to discomfort with hysteria, disproportional anger, and irrational accusations. Before that time such reactions never occurred, but Patty’s and Nanny’s alienation efforts reignited the reactive attachment disorder that I had worked diligently with her to overcome. 

As Rachel approaches her fourth decade, her “mother issues” continue to be easily triggered. It is sad that she cannot recognize — and has never come to terms with — their actual source.

I have accepted that this will never change.

Today’s Thought

 

Mommy

Between May of 1987 and May of 1988, I became a regular caretaker for Peter’s 18-month old baby girl.

May 1987 in Stow, Massachusetts

 

On July 1, Peter and Rachel moved into a new apartment in Brookline, and Peter was able to enroll Rachel in a pre-school called Copper Beech that was near their new home. After several days at Copper Beech, Rachel began addressing Peter as “mommy,” presumably because all of the other children had mothers who participated in the classroom and she heard the term used often. Her vocabulary was fairly limited; no one taught her words and colors, etc. until I started taking care of her, but she caught on quickly. After about a month in Brookline, Rachel spoke her first phrase as we were mobilizing to leave for dinner: “ready to go?”

Whenever Rachel called Peter “mommy,” he became annoyed and would retort, “I’m not mommy, I am daddy.” After a few such rejections, Rachel tried calling me mommy. I tried to be gentle and loving in response, but told her “I’m not mommy, I’m Carol.”

Fast forward to August of 1988. Peter and I agreed to build a committed relationship. I had moved to San Francisco and found a beautiful apartment for us. When Peter and Rachel arrived, we sat down together to talk about our changed circumstance. I told Rachel that I wanted to be her new mommy if she wanted me, and that she could call me mommy. She assumed a proprietary attitude, took my hand and then hugged me. From that moment on, we became a family of sorts.

October 1988 in San Francisco, California

 

But an early warning that foretold of problems in our family took place soon thereafter: Peter began to tell Rachel that she could call him “mommy.” I was dumbfounded, but assumed that he was feeling a bit threatened by how quickly Rachel pivoted to needing and wanting me. He and I had agreed contractually, before moving in together, about certain principles and responsibilities in child-rearing. I was asked to take charge of the potty training, which was actually very easy. Rachel was ready. But then, Peter started to tell her that she could pee her pants! When she was undressed, he told her it was okay to pee on the floor!

These initial family scenes set the stage for years of undermining. There were so many times I just wanted to leave, out of utter frustration with Peter’s behavior. But I always felt that it would have destroyed Rachel’s fragile psyche to be abandoned yet again. So I stayed and did my best.

But as we know, my best was not good enough.
 

Thirty-five

On this day in 1987, we celebrated Rachel’s second birthday. Several months earlier, I had made a commitment to transform my life and responsibilities so that I could help Peter take care of her.

I was 35 years old that year. I embarked on an unforeseen detour in my life so that I could try to save an abandoned and neglected little girl.

Now it’s too late to second guess that unfortunate decision. I saved Rachel, only to be abused, betrayed, and derided for it.

I'm grateful that I was able to take responsibility for raising Rachel, suffer through her malignant mendacity, survive that devastating experience, and rebuild a good and loving life.

Decluttering

As I once again revisit the emotional detritus of the past fifteen years, I've made a commitment to myself to publish many more documents and emails between Patty Grossman and her friends, her mother (Carol Z. Klein), and her niece -- my adopted daughter -- Rachel.

My previous post is the beginning of this renewed effort to declutter on to the world wide web, where it will remain in perpetuity (or close enough). Some of the materials will be posted on other blogs or websites, but eventually I'll make a comprehensive index to all of it -- and I will consider my emotional decluttering complete!

In the past few years, I’ve added a dear friend to my life. Kim and I have traveled together successfully, and shared a variety of personal and social times together. During one visit to Honolulu, Kim learned my story of what happened with Rachel. Kim, a field social worker and educator, looked at me and said “you are suffering from PTSD.” I hadn't thought of that, but it made sense. My emotional being has suffered tremendously, with some scarring that is permanent.

Tonight I read this blog post. It’s not 100% applicable to me, but I could easily modify it so that it tells my specific story:

HOW AN ADOPTIVE MOM BECOMES THE NURTURING ENEMY

(similar sites here and here)

In fact, I intend to modify it to reflect what happened in our family. Then I will share my version with the original authors.

Last year, our friend Greg suggested that I might be happier if I destroy all the evidence I collected for seven years, evidence that unambiguously documents precisely how evil and ill-intended Patty Grossman's actions and intentions were (and undoubtedly, still are). My response to him, with which he concurred, was that if I destroy the emails and other evidence nobody would believe me. How could anyone behave so abysmally, intent on destroying family? It’s inconceivable to my friends and family, and to all well-intended people!

For two nights, I haven’t slept well, and last night I sat up, turned on lights, and wrote down these words. Now, I know what to do.

Typical Aunt Patty

From: Kitty M

To: Patty Grossman
Subject:    Re: Hiya
Date:    Nov 25, 2005 12:41 PM


on 11/25/05 12:39 PM, Patricia Grossman wrote:
>
> Pretty rough over this way. Exhausting day, mostly emotionally. H's family
> and their guests were fun for us, but of course not easy for poor
> Rachel who didn't know anyone. She was polite but also fell glum. A little
> better behavior would've been appreciated, but I think it was really rough for her
> and hopefully everyone cut her slack. She started crying on the train on the way
> there and I finally got it out of her that she was afraid to have a family and
> that her mother would turn her children against her.
>
> Then when we got home and went over some old family pictures it got
> worse.  Lots of crying and professions of utter despair and Helene and I did
> the best we could to help her balance between the bleak reality of her family
> situation and giving her honest hopes for her future. The whole time she was
> clinging to a picture of her dad holding her as a baby. She so loves him and
> told us she likes it when he teases her and calls her "asswipe" (As in don't
> be an asswipe), because then he's treating her as an equal and showing his
> brand of affection. She had no idea there was anything insufficient about
> this. (I didn't take too heavy an approach of telling her it was hardly ideal because
> if I totally undermine his ultra-pathetic - to put it mildly - means of relating to
> her she will have zero.) And of course she railed about Carol and her fear of the
> "the next attack." And how obsessed Carol is by me and what vile things she
> says. (I didn't ask what, natch.) She can't go home for Xmas because she
> doesn't want to risk it.

Oh this all sounds so sad!  That poor girl.  Carol just sounds like a
monster--she is so cruel to be doing this to Rachel.  That took real self
control not to ask what was said about you.  And of course it doesn't
matter. The source is poisoned beyond repair. Where will she go for Xmas?
>
> Helene and I went to bed exhausted and heartbroken.

Of course you were...How could you not be? How are things today? What did
you do, either with or without her?
>
> That's the perky news from this end. Surely yours is better! Thank
> you for your cyber-ear.

ANY time...

xoxoxoxox
>
> xxo
>
>>
>>

Patty: even more odious than she appears to be!

From: KM
To: Patty Grossman
Subject:    Re: Hiya
Date:    Nov 25, 2005 4:23 PM


on 11/25/05 8:48 PM, Patricia Grossman wrote:
>
> She says she just wants to work in Ann Arbor and make money for Xmas. I told her
> she should go down to N.C. and see my mother for a couple of days and
> that H. and I would be there right after Xmas. But hopefully she'll
> end up going home with one of her friends.

That might be best.  Will your brother wonder why she isn't coming home?

> This morning I went over her short story with her (she has to keep working on
> it to get into a creative writing "sub. con." (sub concentration). Her writing
> has an occasional spark, but mostly is just awful-all of it. I was encouraging but I keep
> telling her not to think of it as a living.  Then I let her go out and explore Manhattan
> on her own, armed with directions and a map. That worked out pretty well.
> When she came back H. and I took her to Tempo. (I thought of calling you to
> see if you'd drop by, but figured you'd be busy.)

That sounds nice. I probably would have come by.

> She told us Peter is no longer speaking to Greg, his best friend of many years. I said
> I wasn't that surprised. (He's a lawyer and when Peter and Carol were breaking up
> they were trying to get him to broker the financial arrangement--how stupid is
> THAT?) So then she said if he got rid of Greg and of me, it was just a matter of time
> before he got rid of her.
>
> I told her it would never happen, she was the only thing he was really proud
> of. But how do I know? If only she knew how not worth the effort he is. . . .

This just gets sadder and sadder.  Does he talk to her about you?  (Apart
from Carol's venom that is)  I so understand her worries about that. And as
not worth it as he is, he's still her father and that bond is hard to
shatter. Believe me, I'm one who knows all about continuing to love an
unworthy parent.

>
> She's leaving mid-day tomorrow. I'm embarrassed to admit what a relief that will be.
>
xoxoxo
>>>
>>>>
>>>>
>>>>
>>
>>


From: KM
To: Patty Grossman
Subject:    Re: Hiya
Date:    Nov 26, 2005 3:40 AM

on 11/25/05 11:17 PM, Patricia Grossman wrote:


> If he does, he's even more out of his mind than I thought.

But still, doesn't he miss her, want to see her?

This just gets sadder and sadder.  Does he talk to her about you?

>No, I haven't talked to him in over two years, remember?

Of course I remember. I just wondered if he—apart from Carol—ever
spoke about you Rachel.
> I know, I know, but for the few minutes I was writing this I forgot!! What
> a narcissistic asshole! I'm sorry.

You are not a narcissistic asshole and never will be.  :-)  I know you
didn't forget, it's just that you are so—understandably—worried about
her, about the effect his rejection will ultimately have.

> I can't help but hope it doesn't turn out the same way--especially because she essentially
> has no mother. So she might not turn out as well as you did.

But she had you and Helene.  And it seems that given all that's
happened, she's turning out pretty well, don't you think?

[I must interject here to reflect the irony that Patty and Helene were never part of Rachel’s life until she was seventeen years old. Before that, Helene spent no more than ten days (over seventeen years) with Rachel, and Patty spent no more than twenty days with Rachel -- over the course of seventeen years! There is one and only one person who can be given credit for how “she’s turning out pretty well, don’t you think?” That person is me.]

> xoxoxo

xoxoxo

The Eusocial Caste

"Eusociality, where some individuals reduce their own reproductive potential to raise others' offspring, is what underpins the most advanced form of social organization and the dominance of social insects and humans." 
  --   E. O. Wilson

This statement is from an article that Rachel linked in her profile. I was fascinated by the sentence; it offered me a surprising perspective. It was not the point of the article, but since I read everything from Rachel with attention to detail, I saw relevance in this sentence. The article, separately from all this, was also relevant. It discussed the social evolution of altruism.

But it was the quote from E. O. Wilson that struck me. As a young woman, I reduced my reproductive potential by choice (to help save the planet). I found another's offspring in peril, and I raised her in challenging circumstances, with love, hands on care and healing, and lots of hard work. What I just read informs me that I'm highly evolved!

I guess I already knew that.

In a couple months, Peter and I will be very social in the EU! ;-)

Twelve

It's 2012, and I have reached my fifth Dragon year. 2012 is the second Water Dragon year of my life; the first is my birth year, 1952. Over the past months, I've pondered my mortality and "what's important." It isn't easy to deny turning sixty, with its inevitable progression. Although, I won't experience a third Water Dragon year, I've determined that each twelve year cycle is important for me. I must celebrate each dragon year, including this one, by reflecting on lessons learned and pleasurable experiences of the past twelve years, then planning the coming twelve years. I will review each twelve month period in a similar fashion.

U.S. Forever Postage Stamp commemorating this Lunar New Year

Age twelve was a year of officially accepting responsibility, and becoming an adult in the Roman Catholic Church. I was confirmed at age twelve. Slapped quite harshly by Archbishop Dearden, my face flamed for several hours. Aunt Sharon, my confirmation sponsor, was quite upset about it, and still remarks on it when I see her! I'm sure that's why I mention it, because I expected to "stand as an adult" during the ceremony, and knew I'd be slapped — although normally it is a symbolic tap on the cheek. Perhaps the Archbishop recognized that I wasn't a real follower of the Church.

I will digress, and mention that age seven is the age of reason in the Catholic Church. When I was seven, in second grade, I was taught that Limbo -- the eternal home of pagans (unbaptized souls) -- was exactly like Heaven, except God isn't there. My reasoning brain could not resolve that matter of faith. I decided after that particular teaching (and after a year and a half of daily Religion classes), that I was no longer a Catholic. I knew that I had no choice in the matter, as my parents sent me to Catholic School, but I resolved that at age sixteen I could stop being a Catholic. I will say that the essential teachings of the Bible underlie my morals, and that if people actually followed the teachings of Jesus Christ, the world would be a much better place. But since age sixteen, after prolonged family drama which I endured quietly and steadfastly, I have no affiliation with organized religion.

At age 24, I became a financially independent woman. At age 36, a mother. At 48, a successful entrepeneur! 

There are twelve strings on guitars, twelve days of Christmas, twelve Apostles, twelve months of the year, 12-bar blues, twelve Olympians, twelve astrological signs -- western and eastern. Twelve seems to be an auspicious number, and I am pleased to celebrate my fifth twelve year cycle. I doubt that being a Water Dragon has anything to do with being a Water Bearer (Aquarius, an air sign), but I enjoy thinking of both as I embark on the new adventure of planning and living the final third of my life. I am grateful to have made it this far!

I love my friends and family -- received so many beautiful gifts, cards, communications, and unexpected phone calls, that I was nearly in tears of joy all day long!

I was deeply touched by this gift from Sheri -- here is a (distorted) image of the back cover of a lovely hard bound book of photos she's taken during our two trips around Hawaii Island and Kauai. She created it and sent it to me!

Travel continues to be part of my enjoyment of the world, in addition to my rather unbeatable daily life. In a few weeks, I'll join Leslie in Amsterdam, and we'll travel to Cordoba for eight days. The weather won't be warm, but I'll be able to wear clothes that I only can wear outside of Hawaii, or at high elevations here, so I don't mind. She and I will have an easy time hanging out in R's house in the Juderia,  and exploring ancient Spain together -- quite an excellent Water Dragon activity!

Holiday Nostalgia

I miss my mom every day, but my heart aches more acutely near her favorite holidays and birthday. Each year, Mom enjoyed making her family's Christmas a magical and loving tradition. Unlike her, I often lack motivation for such efforts -- at least during the holidays that Peter and I spend at home alone together. This year, a poinsettia plant is our sole visible homage to the season. But we're celebrating with friends, hosting meals and visiting others, making party rounds as usual. Our time together is kind, cozy, loving, and playful. We're also tackling home maintenance projects that we usually avoid.

This season, the family traditions will extend into January. On Thursday, we'll host our island family -- including my darling grand-cousins, their parents and grandparents, and my coffee farming cousins (plus their guests and extended ohana). For that, I think I'll quickly set up a pre-lit artificial tree that's in the garage. After celebrating New Year's Eve with fireworks at Mauna Kea Beach, I will have a couple days to prepare before flying to Oahu to take care of my great-nephew while his mom participates in a roller derby clinic. My nephew will join us there after five days, and then we all will head back to Hawaii island. Since this season's family celebrations are delayed, we'll celebrate more festively when we have children at home to inspire us!

Thinking of Shirley

We learned yesterday that Grandma Shirley passed away. For nearly twenty years, Shirley and I stayed in touch so that I could give her news of her grand-daughter.

Shirley was a simple, straightforward woman, who never understood how Lee could abandon Rachel, and mourned the lack of a closer connection with her beloved only grandchild. Aware of her love for my step-daughter, I attempted to promote their bond. Despite Peter's general indifference, he supported my efforts -- unlike his sister and mother who actively tried to prevent them. I felt that it was essential for Rachel to know everyone who loved her, so I contacted Shirley by phone about six times a year when Rach was a child, sent photos, and visited her with Rachel whenever we traveled on the East Coast.

When Rachel was about eleven, and we felt that she was able to travel alone (as an unaccompanied minor, for extra fees so that the airline took care of her while she travelled), we contacted her Aunt Patty to see if Rachel could visit her. On my side of the family, Rachel's aunts and uncles (including my siblings, their spouses, and several of my first cousins) enthusiastically encouraged and welcomed Rachel's visits, so I foolishly assumed that her biological aunt would feel the same. After all, Rachel was the only child in her family!

Despite the effort and expense of a cross-country flight, Patty was willing to take Rachel for only two days, puzzling me and insulting Peter. I prevailed on him to ask for one extra day with Patty because I wanted Patty to take Rach to stay with Shirley for three or four days. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that Patty would refuse. Peter's mother got involved in our plans, supporting Patty's refusal. She asserted that there was no reason or need for Rachel to visit Shirley. Although I didn't engage in the discussions with Peter's sister, I did try to convince Peter's mom. I asked her how she would feel if the situation were reversed -- if Lee had custody and saw no reason for her to maintain a relationship with her only grandchild. Lack of empathy, and poor judgment about Rachel's best interests, were the only substantive responses from either Patty or Nanny. Peter's negotiations with his twin sister became more heated, and Patty finally agreed to relent if we would release her from any liability! She sent a legal document that Peter had to sign in front of a notary, and then reluctantly agreed to our wishes that she take Rachel to Shirley. Living in Park Slope, Brooklyn, Patty was inconvenienced having to deliver Rachel to and from the Grand Street projects in lower Manhattan, where Shirley lived.

Rachel enjoyed a loving and memorable visit with Grandma Shirley.

An earlier visit with Grandma Shirley, when Rachel was three years old.

We never again asked Patty to host a visit from Rachel once it was clear that she didn't want to be bothered. On subsequent visits to NY, we didn't even contact Patty. Peter already held bitter feelings about his sister's inhospitable behavior from an earlier one night visit.

Naively, I continued to assume that my daughter's only biological aunt would behave in a warm, familial manner concerning her niece. But that behavior didn't begin until the end of Rachel's high school years, when Patty began to pay attention and pretend to care for Rachel for the purpose of eliminating me from Rachel's life. Based on their attitude about Shirley, I should have foreseen that Patty and Nanny would try to claim Rachel and remove me as soon as she was grown. I had served my purpose as caretaker. Neither love for Rachel, nor concern for her emotional fragility could stop them. They still work to undermine our family, even with Nanny's dementia.

Of course, I have been hurt by their destructive, narcissistic actions. But the true, profoundly unfortunate victim has been Rachel. It is widely known that encouraging parental alienation damages the children involved, but our situation was exacerbated because our child had been abandoned by her birth mother (then later, at age nine, by Peter's mom when she abruptly moved away over an imagined insult from Rachel). It took years of loving work with Rachel to help her to develop emotional trust. This was viciously destroyed by Patty and Nanny in their misguided, self-glorifying attempts to "save" Rachel from the harm that they tried to convince her that I wished to inflict. Such a pity for all involved.

This was never the case with Grandma Shirley. She always expressed her heartfelt gratitude that I had stepped in to care for Rachel. She gave me little presents with thank-you notes, and entrusted me with gifts for Rachel, including a garter she'd saved from her bridal business that is for Rachel's wedding. It will be a joyful tribute to Shirley when Rachel wears it at her nuptials. Shirley will always remain in our memories as the kind and loving Grandmother that she was, and she will be specially honored on the future day that Rachel is married.

Rest in peace, Shirley.

Renewing and Forging Bonds

The year 2011 has provided many rewarding moments with family and friends. In the winter and early spring months, we hosted quite a few distant guests from university and professional associations, along with Rachel, other family members, and regularly visiting pals.

When visitor season ended, I departed for a long planned trip to England with my pal Caroline. She and I spent four nights in London -- and walked many miles through the city -- then took a train to Bath where we stayed another four nights. After two days touring on foot in Bath, we rented a car to explore the Cotswolds, the Salisbury Plain, and the areas surrounding Bath as well as much of Cornwall. I drove over 700 kilometers that week. Caroline wanted to visit some of the sites from my 2006 pilgrimage, so I arranged access inside the stone circle at Stonehenge; we also spent time among the stones at Avebury, and in quite a few cathedrals. En route to Cornwall we detoured to spend about five hours in Glastonbury and climbed the Tor.

Carol and Caroline, in front of the Merlin Stone at Avebury

While in Bath, we frequented an Indian restaurant near our hotel -- and virtually the only restaurant that served food after 9 pm -- often enough that one of the servers became overly sentimental on our last night. It was surreal that the young Bangladeshi man was nearly weeping, but I assured him that I'd eaten there on an earlier visit, and would again when I return. We were building bonds even as tourist customers! Once in Cornwall, we stayed in a grand railroad hotel overlooking Fistral Beach for another three nights before driving back to Bath, dropping the car at Hertz, and taking a train back to London to fly home the next day.

After my return on May 26, it was time to prepare for a three week journey with Peter beginning June 8. While in Las Vegas for a ten days, I enjoyed seventh row center seats at the Paul McCartney concert (sitting close to Yoko and Sean Lennon, Olivia Harrison, George Martin, and Nancy Shevell with her son). Peter and I explored some of the region not too far from Las Vegas (Hoover Dam, Boulder City), but didn't drive to the Grand Canyon as planned, due to forest fires. For one day, Peter indulged me and we walked for miles along the strip to shop at high end designer boutiques in various casinos. We both loved this whisper light scarf from Alexander McQueen, so Peter bought it for our anniversary. Another day, we enjoyed a serendipitous rendezvous with Sheri, who was staying nearby for a professional conference. In addition to lunch and a few hours at the pool, Sheri spent quite a bit of time with us in the AllSaints boutique, discovering their unique, well-made, beautiful clothing for men and women, all very pricey.

After Peter "got his Vegas fix," we drove north through rural Nevada's vast desert (including Area 51 and Yucca Mountain) to my sister's home in the Carson Valley surrounded by the High Sierra. Peter and I were eager to meet and create new bonds with Madeline, our great-niece, during a week of celebrating her first birthday in and around Lake Tahoe. The venue was a partial family reunion, hosted by my sister Jill, and my brother Jim in Zephyr Cove, where we stayed. Maddy's parents, Amy and my nephew Kevin, were in from Arizona, and niece Shannon showed up from time to time. Extended family showed up for the birthday party, and it was great to see some of Jill's in-laws and old friends from Michigan again.

View of the lake from our bed at Jim's house

My nephew Adam also stayed at Jim's with his partner Melisa and their two year old son, Myles -- our great-nephew. We've had the opportunity to bond with Myles quite a few times in Hawaii, California, and Nevada, and it was delightful to spend time with him alone and with the entire family group again.

After a week in Tahoe, Peter and I flew to Cancun, then were shuttled down to Tulum where we stayed for three nights, exploring the town, its beaches, and nearby Mayan ruins. We stayed in a comfortable, clean, very simple inn in the pueblo itself. The contrast with our next destination, the Banyan Tree Mayakoba, was remarkable! There, Peter's friend Chuck hosted a sixtieth birthday bash for himself, and paid for about forty friends and a couple dozen family members to join him. We each had a private walled villa with our own swimming pool and outdoor covered bedroom, along with the fabulous indoor/outdoor suite. Zen and intimacy -- such luxury! Our four and five star resorts in Hawaii are put to shame by the Banyan Tree.

The best part, of course, was reuniting with old friends. Peter's childhood pals were there, along with quite a few from university days and business transactions. The shared gratitude was palpable: everyone appreciated coming together to celebrate with old friends. It was a genuinely sentimental gathering in a sensuous and luxurious setting.

Peter and I returned home on June 26th for a slight reprieve -- including Fourth of July fireworks at my favorite spot on the planet, Mauna Kea Beach.

On July 7, I departed for San Francisco, and the coastline north of Half Moon Bay, to attend another celebration -- this time for my best friend, Leslie. Leslie has moved to Amsterdam to live with her man. She kept her home at the coast, and her son is living there with his new wife. She and Reinier hosted a bash at a nearby hotel for about eighty friends and family -- to introduce Reinier to those who don't know him, to celebrate their love, additionally to celebrate her son's marriage a year earlier in Milan. Peter didn't want to travel so soon, but I was delighted to join a gathering of old friends and ohana. I am very close to Leslie's entire family, and spent enjoyable individual time with her extended family. Another warm event, filled with love.

Leslie, with her beautiful, new Dutch family.

On the 13th, I flew to JFK and was greeted by a double rainbow as soon as I got into the shuttle that would take me to the upper east side of Manhattan. There, I stayed for a week with our friend Margery and spent the time walking around Manhattan enjoying New York (fortunately there was a break in the oppressive weather) and renewing bonds with my friend Ayna, with whom I first connected during my 2006 pilgrimage in England. Also spent some time with Allison, daughter of my "best friend boy cousin" Russ. My primary reason for going to New York was to see the Alexander McQueen exhibit at the Met, and since Margery lives around the corner, that was very easy and leisurely -- and amazing! We also saw a couple of theatre productions, and on Bastille Day, we walked down to Lincoln Center to join the dancers at Midsummer Night's Swing. Saw a couple movies as well, ate wonderful food, and met several terrific women friends of Margery.

Now I've been home since July 20th, and must pack today for our next adventure. Peter and I are off to Kennebunkport for the wedding of our friends' daughter. This will be another reunion with the Cancun crowd (to be followed by an October reunion of eight of the guys and a few wives in Hawaii for the eleventh annual Belvoir Cup golf outing). Since we'll be on the east coast, I will take the opportunity to continue east to Amsterdam to spend a week with Leslie and Reinier, and meet more of Reinier's family and friends. From there, I will fly to East London, South Africa for nine days with good friends from Hawaii (who've moved there for work). We will go inland to camp for three days at Addo Elephant Park, and after we return, Susan and I will go on to the wine country outside of Cape Town, then two nights and nearly three days in Cape Town. Whew!

Departing Cape Town, I'll head to London for three days and nights, and will re-connect with Annie there. Also with Jonathan, no doubt. I've booked a tour of Buckingham Palace, and afternoon tea, and need to flesh out plans for the rest of my time (theatre, museums, ethnic food, shopping). But for now, I only have a couple days left at home and must pack for all the different events and climates!

A very good year, indeed! As soon as I return, visitors will begin to arrive for the winter season. Peter and I are very excited to host former employees of whom we're very fond, regular buddies, and family. I am so pleased with the content and rhythm of our lives, alternating travel with entertaining -- and continually connecting with those we love. What could be better?

Ukraine

Peter describes it aptly as a god forsaken hell hole. Rachel is surviving -- not always happily -- but clearly is growing, demonstrates courage regularly, and truly is making a difference.

One of my daily readings

is called the Daily Motivator, published by Ralph Marston. Today's entry is worth repeating here:

The value of forgiveness
Forgiveness can indeed be difficult. Yet in the long run, it is far easier to forgive than to live with resentment or continuing retribution. Through forgiveness, you can move away from the pains of the past. With forgiveness, you can achieve real freedom.

There are always opportunities to benefit from the value of forgiveness. You can forgive yourself, you can forgive others, and you can forgive even when you don't know exactly who to forgive.

Because forgiveness is not about who is to blame or who is at fault. Forgiveness is mostly about letting go, completely and permanently, within yourself.

Forgiveness is recognizing the reality that what has happened has happened, and that there's no point in allowing it to dominate your life. Forgiveness refreshingly clears the slate and enables you to move positively forward.

Carrying around a load of resentment can be an enormous and unnecessary burden. Forgive early and often, and you'll considerably lighten your load.

-- Ralph Marston