Remembering Jane – Thoughts on 9/11 11 Sep 2015 3:59 AM (10 years ago)
Remembering Jane – Thoughts on 9/11
Please read how I came to know about Jane…..
Remembering the remembering in 2014
a dear friend who now lives in NYC visited the 9/11 memorial and took these photographs for me, mid summer 2015
Jane S Beatty did not die alone. As you see she her name is amongst many many others.
There isn’t much to say. I have said it all before. Every year, as I crawl through
a Southern Hemisphere winter, I begin to think of Jane.
Pearls in all seasons 24 May 2015 3:26 PM (10 years ago)
a list is being made…the interviews are taking place and when winter arrives* the relaunch will begin.
I really like the television program Grand Designs. I also enjoy Grand Designs revisited, where the very erudite Kevin returns to see how things have worked out. This is most interesting to see the home, now well established and to hear how the occupants have settled in. How is the reality compared to the dream?
I blame my father for this fascination. He was an architect. Mainly of hospitals, however in my young childhood he was a mad keen DIY man. (well before that tag) Living in the midst of renovations cured me of wanting to engage in the practice but did leave me with a curiosity about the process. Actually it is the dream to reality journey that engages me. It does not have to be house construction.
In life it’s true that Pearls in all seasons is the way to go.
In this season of ‘A String of Pearls’ I invite you to join me as we revisit 2 amazing women. They are both achieving incredible things that will delight, and quite possibly inspire you.
Plus we have some exciting new stories to share….
*winter in Australia starts in June.
Image from Pinterest
Summer storms and revitalization 17 Dec 2014 6:13 AM (10 years ago)
This December has bought a combination of summer storms and revitalization. Sliding, as we are, rapidly into the Christmas season, winding up school and business, looking forward to summer, down here, or to winter up there, I find myself already thinking about next year.
This was my goal and theme for 2014. Ha! I am currently looking back in order to plan forward and to make a new theme for 2015, which must, be better than this year. Actually I started dreaming forward and then recalled I needed to look back….thus I am in the midst of summer storms and revitalisation.
How about you? Have you been able to find a moment here or there, to recharge yourself physically, emotionally and spiritually. Please do. And keep your phone charged.
Remembering the remembering: 9/11 10 Sep 2014 8:25 AM (11 years ago)
No longer weighed down with heavy grief I find I do not want to forget. Thus today I am remembering the remembering. I always think of Jane S Beatty as we come into September.
I watch the documentaries about what we now call 9/11. I remember it, on each anniversary. Yet the events seem kind of distant now. I don’t want them to be. During one doco I watched an interview with a woman named Edie, she is the sister of the man who heads up ‘Cantor Fitzgerald‘
This is the financial services business based on the 101 – 105th floors of World Trade Centre One. This was some 2-6 floors above the impact zone. 658 employees (which was all of employees in the office at the time of the attacks) which made up about 2/3rds of the company’s NY employees died that day.
Edie asked if, for the 10th anniversary people might select one victim of the tragedy and learn a little about them. I did a search and found the complete list of those that died. As I scrolled down the very long list I wondered how I could choose one person…as I continued to scroll down the long list it occurred to me that I might choose a ‘Jane’.
I found Jane S. Beatty
This is my tribute to her.
Jane was a technical supervisor at Marsh & McLennan Cos Inc. on the 96th floor of WTC One, Shortly before Sept. 11, Beatty marked her fifth anniversary of living free of breast cancer.
In the New York Times I found this tribute to her ‘When her first marriage broke up, she was thrust into the job market for the first time and found work as a cocktail waitress in Toronto, where she was raised. Then she learned computer skills and switched careers, eventually becoming a technical supervisor at Marsh & McLennan in New York. Ms. Beatty, 53, faced another challenge more recently when she was found to have breast cancer. By that time, she had left Canada and moved to Belford, N.J., to marry the retired police officer she had met on a blind date while visiting a friend. The friend, Lorraine Greskow, said Ms. Beatty remained upbeat, even after her mastectomy. “She always had a smile on her face, even through all that,” she said. In August, Jane Beatty and her husband, Bob, went to Atlantic City to privately mark her fifth anniversary of being cancer-free. She told her mother it was too early to make a big fuss. “She said she wasn’t going to celebrate until she was clear for six years,” said her mother, Beth Chrystal.’
I thought about Jane, and the challenges she faced. I’ve had health challenges too; I feel empathy for the battle she faced and won. I remembered New Years eve 1999 and wondered how Jane might have celebrated that milestone. I found myself hoping she had felt happiness in her life and in her work through what would be the last years of her short life. I wondered how she celebrated the 4th of July in 2000, and had she felt the temperature change as Summer turned to Fall? Had she begun to think about Thanksgiving, and the thanks she had to give. Had she thought about how she would spend winter? What she might do during the holidays. I wondered how she got to work each day…that day. Who had she greeted and what had she planned for her lunch break. Jane, this Jane has become real to me, now that I know more about her. Jane’s mom died last year. I hope they are together.
Yes, Jane died on the day the world changed. Yet today I am changed. I am thankful for Edie’s request. I have met Jane S Beatty. I so admire women of courage. I hope Jane’s family are ok with this tribute.
I did a further search and came across a Legacy Guest Book. I read some of the tributes, of the lives Jane had touched and has touched since. I read of her mother’s death. I found many links of tribute.
I am a Guest Writer over at this fantastic New York Blog Read the series
NOTE: My friend Mark from Staten Island NY was able to tell me about the way Jane would have travelled to work. He spoke of the many families on the Island that lost loved ones, work associates and friends in this day. He has offered to seek out Jane’s name on the memorial now in place and make a brass rubbing for me. I am touched by this offer.
© Jane
The Final Act: caring for my mother. 10 May 2014 9:52 PM (11 years ago)
I’d flown in for her second last Christmas. Mum had told her friends she wanted Christmas Day just with me and they had helped her arrange things so it could be that way. I was deeply moved. I arrived prepared for a long hot day but the weather played its tricks and it was to be a cold gusty wet day. Regardless, it was a special day.
I flew home a few days later, before New Year’s Eve.
A month later on a strong prompting I flew back.
That was to be the end. The Final Act: caring for my mother.
Let me tell you about the beginning.
Mum and I had had a difficult life together. She wanted to keep me safe, while I fought her control.
I wanted to be free, to roam to do, she held the secrets that breed her fears.
We battled through the decades. Always a loving truce when I was sick.
After my father died I was living clear across the country. I rang to see how she was and heard myself saying “would you like me to come and live with you, for a few weeks?”
On the flight East I found myself pondering what might happen if I treated my mother like I treated all the older ladies I knew at church.
After the flight I caught the bus to the city then the train for an hour ride south. I was quite tired.
Mum met me at the station and I greeted her with a cautious weary hug.
From that moment I thought first of her and her needs. That was the Thursday. I rested Friday but made her breakfast, lunch and we went out for dinner.
Saturday I drove her into the local Village as she called it. I carried her shopping. Helped with all I could. I did the washing, hung it out, bought it in, folded it according to her instructions. I dusted, and piled the newspapers neatly. I put her feet up while we discussed what we would be doing on ‘Mothers Day’.
We planned a relaxed day with a special lunch of her favourite foods. I planned and organised myself for her to have breakfast in bed.
Mid morning of Mothers Day I was in the kitchen and my mother walked in. She came close and put her arms around me. Shorter than me, she rested her head in my shoulder. I thought she was never letting go. Figuratively speaking she never did.
She then produced a package. A surprise from my daughter.
In the parcel was a cross stitch panel for me. This would eventually become a cute cushion. There was also a small complete and filled cushion for my mother.
She hugged it tight as her crinkled eyes glistened with tears. I was surprised. But said nothing.
Settled at an outdoor table we rang my daughter. I listened to my mother say she couldn’t love the gift more if it was a diamond ring. OK, now I was amazed.
Over the next days and weeks there was much more to be amazed about.
It seems that when I changed, as per my thoughts on the plane, mum changed too.
For 5 years we basked in that special relationship. In true mother daughter closeness. I flew up and down amassing quite the collection of frequent flyer points. I rang 3 times a day when at home. We talked through everything. Agreeing to lay no blame, we found what had caused the problem. After she shared the secrets which pertained to my childhood and now life-long health issues, we discovered we had been wrenched apart by a hospital system that excluded parents, mothers from being anywhere near their sick babies, toddlers and children.
Five years later. The last five weeks.
With an unspoken agreement that this was the last visit we proceeded to do all the last things mum wanted to do. She was now permanently attached to an oxygen machine which I named Darth Vader. (Honestly it sounded just like the movie character. When my son had visited he asked me if the machine affected my breathing. Both of us found we breathed along with the rasping in-out pattern of the machine. A strangely funny circumstance.)
We had a day out then a day home. On the day home while she physically rested mum would teach me what-so-ever she thought I might need in the future. ‘Get your note book’ she would call before quickly replacing her mask. I wrote down recipes and instructions. Some things I wondered at but I wrote diligently. Most of them I have used.
When she napped I would get online and catch up with friends, especially in a writers group. Later when she woke I would read the messages to her from these women she had never met. They were most supportive of us through this time.
We did the last shopping trip. The next time supermarket supplies were needed I went alone. I had a thorough list with preferred brands and instructions. As the apartment door clicked closed behind me and I started to walk towards the lift I suddenly thought ‘what if she dies while I’m out?’
I turned back and let myself in. She looked up from her newspaper. I went to her side and kissed her cheek. ‘I love you’ I said. Squeezed her hand and set off again.
We did the last haircut. Went out for the last lunch with her girlfriends – women she had known for years, from work from her political life and painting class. We had figured out the portable gas cylinder and a little trolley to pull it on. As she struggled for breath I distracted the friends with cheery news of what we had been up to.
Easter Friday was her final day at home. She was noticeably slow in getting going. Mid morning she asked me to assist her to have a shower. But first she directed me to which clothes she would wear. Aqua pants and a matching t-shirt. And a crisp white shirt open over the top. The coordinated earrings and soft white sox since we would be at home.
I got the shower running then left her to it – call me if you need. Fairly soon she did indeed call. Wrapped in a towel she sat breathless on the shower stool. I gently dried her off. She was trying to speak but struggling for air. Quickly I grabbed the mask attached to Darth Vader and she breathed easier. I waited.
‘Dry between my toes’ she whispered. Hmm, now feet are not my favourite things.
Then in my mind a quiet voice. A voice of love. ‘Jesus washed the feet…’
I knelt beside my small frail fragile mother and gently dried between her toes.
That night she went in an ambulance to hospital. I knew she would not come back. She requested no visitors. No-one was to come. Not even me. Dad had chosen to die alone and she wanted it that way too.
However at her request I did visit on Saturday afternoon. It was a few weeks before I understand why she had asked the nurse to ring me to come in.
She looked even smaller and even more fragile. Her bed was set at angle allowing her to see through the French doors out to a small pretty courtyard. I realise as I write that that she would have requested the bed to be moved. I’m smiling. I held her hand and whispered to her. Her large brown eyes looked anxious. Talking was so hard now. Too hard. I indicated the doors. Leaning in close I said Mum, remember what I told you? It will be like walking through those doors. The need to breathe, the pain, the struggle will drop away as you step through them. She squeezed my hand. Her eyes sparkled.
On the other side of the door, I continued, will be dad, your parents, and other people you love. They will embrace you. You will not look back. I will be ok. You’ve taught me well. I love you.
Somehow my mother reached her tiny frail arms up around me as she gently hugged me. For the last time. Here on earth.
By 2:00AM Sunday she had stepped through those beautiful doors.
I later realised that my mother had requested me to visit her so that I could leave her, rather than her leaving me. This had been a tender issue since my baby-days in hospital. This is what we had figured out.
She has never left me. I feel her close. I feel her influence. I hear her voice. I read her guidance.
I look forward to our next embrace.
Happy Mothers Day mum.
Wednesday Women: It’s All In Your Head 4 Mar 2014 3:00 PM (11 years ago)
Today’s feature is It’s All In Your Head written by Alycia Neighbours
‘We see someone with a bandage or cast and we have to ask “What happened? How bad does it hurt?” Family or friends go down with an illness and we are ready with crockpots of homemade (or just opened cans) chicken soup. Someone going to have surgery and we have the florist on the line before they are even admitted to their room.
We are community and that’s what we do when we see someone hurting’.
Regardless of era or geography we have gathered and shared. Shared a task and often a meal. Shared the stories of our lives. Our joys and fears. Our challenges and delights. We give support one week, and receive it the next. We comfit and laugh. We learn and we heal. We do what women have always done.
Now, consider the question Alycia asks next….
‘But what if you can’t see it? What if it makes no sense to you that this person is hurting mentally just as deeply? Where is our community then?
Our community is sitting in the corner whispering “…but she has such a fantastic life, she already had a month of therapy – how long can someone talk about themselves, but I gave her that self-help work-book,or maybe she just doesn’t have enough faith and pray enough.”
Whisper out a label of “depression, bi-polar, PTSD, PPD, etc. and the community disappears with their chicken soup crockpots or flowers. Nobody asks how bad it hurts or how did it happen, because it is something a “healthy” mind just can’t understand.
Very few people understand a “label” and even fewer want to get close enough in case it is contagious (P.S. The (USA) CDC has declared that no mental illness is contagious so put that in your pipe and smoke it.)
So, we – the afflicted, are left with just a few choices.
1) Put on our happy smile and shove the ugly voices down.
2) Put on our happy smile and bring brownies to the PTA while our soul is crushing.
3) Put on our happy smile and drag ourselves to the doctor and downplay most of our symptoms because we don’t want to sound too crazy.
There is another option though and it’s one that makes most people cringe.
4) Let’s talk about it with radical boldness and not be ashamed of our illness or belittle it into just something that will pass.
Let’s forget the community and form our own of like-minded people who get what depression is. People who understand bi-polar and know how it feels. Mothers who can walk you with you through PPD. Someone who has PTSD and has found things that have worked for them.
Let’s talk about it with our doctors with such honesty that we break down and cry out for help.
That’s kind of what they are there for anyway….and they can hook you up with a psychologist or psychiatrist that fits you. And when you get there, go in with the same brutal honesty.
I had to have an eye exam the other day and knew strangers would be touching my face. With my PTSD this is a trigger and I got downright honest that although I knew they had to do their job, I suffered from something they couldn’t see, but was very real. I asked them to warn me when I was about to be touched and we would get through it.
Guess what? They respected it and we made it through the exam with no triggers being set off.
This is what talking about it does. It gives a voice to the unseen illness that devastates the victim.
It’s time (heck, its way past time) that we quit whispering in the corners about what we can’t see and can’t understand. It’s time to educate ourselves about the different mental illnesses and maybe even look in the mirror. Mental illness is not going to skip you because you have the perfect life, have had no trauma or because you are a certain age, gender, race or religion. It doesn’t discriminate, but it will decimate every aspect of your life.
1 in 4 adults suffer from some form of mental illness….yet we still aren’t talking loudly enough, because very little is being done about it. It’s still mostly pointing and whispering judgmentally.
What do we really need? A listening ear, a non-judgmental voice, educated mentors, a hug (or some space) It all comes down this, we need to know that we are not the cast-offs, the contagious, the misfits…we need to be heard loudly that this was not a choice and dang it; it hurts and it hurts deeply’.
Alycia Neighbours is a published author of two ebooks dealing with grief and loss. She resides with her husband, 7 kids, 4 dogs, 3 cats, 50 fish and 1 horse. She writes in between chaos and feeding times on her blog “Walking as a Prodigal” where she talks about domestic violence, suicide, tells bible stories in a relevant way and manages to mix the horrific with the humor – because what else can you do?
AN IMPORTANT MESSAGE
If you are struggling in silence, please, please talk to someone. A Pastor, a friend, your Doctor, go to the local ER, post a Status on your Facebook page…just tell someone. Reach out…
3am: sometimes I sleep sometimes I think. 27 Feb 2014 1:30 PM (11 years ago)
In the middle of the night, a few nights back, I couldn’t seem to sleep so I decided to put the time to good use and do some thinking. 3am: sometimes I sleep sometimes I think.
I though about several things and then my mental meanderings led me to a new thought. Which busybeezchickadeez
has captured so beautifully in the locket above…You can order this delightful treasure from the Etsy store. Here is the image on Pinterest
I pulled out my 2014 goals from behind my iPad which is on a prop-up frame (I watch TV through various channel Apps) and considered where I was, where I want to be and how this site might be a positive in you lives. Thoughts rolled around my mind and and eventually came a spotlight where the words Wednesday Women appeared.
Hmmm I thought. I thought quite a bit. About all of you, about Blog posts and articles I have read recently. Conversations I have had with women around the world. The idea is taking shape.
meantime….
I thought I would let you know you can follow
*‘A String of Pearls’ on Facebook. A simple LIKE will connect you.
*Find me on Twitter.
*Also on Instagram
*Speaking of photos I launched #SaturdaySnapture on Instagram, Twitter and Facebook/ One Photo One day: Snap a photo/Capture a moment = Saturday Snapture
The theme for 1st March is SHOES.
*Check out my Boards on PINTEREST
Looking forward by looking back 22 Jan 2014 1:55 PM (11 years ago)
Yes, I am now a convert of the Looking forward by looking back process to plan for a new year. These are not resolutions though I did make 3 of those this year. To me resolutions are made to break not-so-good habits. They are the bucket of cold water in your face to shock you into better habits….Goals come fresh to the list.
Here then is the result of the 2013/2014 review and planning session.
It is good to make a list of what you achieved last year. Then you can see more clearly what you need to focus upon this year, what to start. Create your own list, remember to review all aspects of your life, not just the business quadrant.
Here is some of my 2013 list:
Pictures Up
Terrace fencing up
Started Garden
Moved desk to better place
Evolved from being a consultant to become a SOCIAL MEDIA MENTOR
Added aqua to colour scheme
Became gluten free
Lost weight
Healthier
Exercises from Naturopath
Stabilized blood sugar
Conquered some fears (spiders)
Bought a hat
Started a business
Purchased Personal domain
Signed up with Family Share as a writer
Attended ProBlogger #PBEvent digitally and ‘foyering’ *my new word for hanging out in the Foyer to catch up with attendees. I attended virtually. (4 clients actually attended)
And many many more….
Review my 2012 achievements.
This year, after a great deal of thought I created this theme for my year. I love the image. I made these goals and more….
view the original image on Pinterest
To cultivate my Secret Garden, (like Green Card Movie).
To feel personal empowerment, through a balance of physical activity and healthy balanced eating all year round.
To seek out and develop new friendships whilst enriching the ones I have.
To continue my strategy of active learning.
To regularly read ‘real’ books for learning and for pleasure.
and many many more….
Yes, it is the end of January….I’ve been melting in the heat, coping with air cons that broke down and fixing a long list of things that inexplicably have broken, or broken down. All while staying calm…that’s one of the resolutions.
Some very talent and generous ladies have come into the sphere of my life, thus there will be many interesting interviews this year.
You can search the archives or months in the lower side bar. Up top is the place to subscribe.
I ma creating a new site for my voice…you are most welcome to visit me there.
Remember, I am thinking of you…even as I melt. Stay warm all your northern hemisphereites.
Christmas, the Jane Austen way 15 Dec 2013 2:37 PM (11 years ago)
How lovely it is to be part of the worldwide VIRTUAL ADVENT TOUR this year. It is not too late to join….
I chose today 16th December so that I could take this moment to celebrate Jane Austen’s Birthday. Born 1775 she nonetheless is contemporary to us….
We often think of Christmas as commencing with the influence of Prince Albert, beloved husband of Britain’s Queen Victoria…but of course Christmas, the reason and the celebrations existed long before then.
How did Jane Austen acknowledge Christmas in her accounts of the daily lives of her characters?
Let’s look at a few…
First up,
Emma,
my favourite.
“At Christmas every body invites their friends about them, and people think little of even the worst weather. I was snowed up at a friend’s house once for a week.”
– Mr. Elton, Emma, Chapter 13
Emma Woodhouse spends Christmas with her family and friends. Her sister and brother-in-law, John & Isabella Knightley, come to stay at Harfield over Christmas with their five little children. They have a family dinner which includes Mr. Knightley on the 23rd, on Christmas Eve they all go to Randalls for a Christmas dinner with Mr. & Mrs. Weston and the odious Mr. Elton. On Christmas Day it has snowed so bad that the roads are impossible to cross for the Christmas service at the church so Emma has a snug day visiting Mrs. Weston instead. (Emma, Chapters 9-16)
Next, we look at the much loved
Pride and Prejudice
SENSE AND SENSIBILITY
(my favourite version)
A Designing Woman: Gemma Bricknell 23 Nov 2013 12:19 AM (11 years ago)
Today we are visiting Western Australia to meet with the very creative designer Gemma Bricknall. Gemma hails from South Africa but has bought her considerable talents all the way to Australia
Gemma congratulations on your new mini range – what has inspired this?
Thank you! I have been working with private clients for a few years and have always wanted to create ranges that are completely my own in design and style, so I felt motivated to start by doing a manageable mini collection of a few pieces. The inspiration behind it is the ever timeless black and white theme. I thought it was a good place to start.
Which is your favourite piece?
I really love the scalloped Jacket, because it’s a timeless piece with a bit of an edge which keeps it fresh
Tell me about where you grew up and your younger life
I come from a big family of 5 sisters and the best parents anyone could ask for! We have always been very close and had lots of fun growing up together. I have fond memories of our Christmases (is that a word?) together each year when my dad would decorate the dinner table beautifully, mum would spend most of the day cooking up an enormous roast and my sisters and I would plan each others gifts months in advance! Just talking about it makes me homesick!
I met Gavin and quickly fell head over heels! We moved to Australia for him to study and work, and have since become permanent residents to stay for good. Can’t get rid of me now! Five years later and a baby boy that we can’t get enough of…
How did you come to be a fashion designer?
I always loved sewing and designing. I would love going to fabric stores when I was younger and make things for myself, but not many worked out as I had planned in my head! It came time to leave school and start studying and I was determined to make a career for myself doing what I love. I studied a national Diploma in Fashion and Textiles in South Africa and loved it.
What are you passionate about?
Wow, so much. Number one on my list is family. I have all the time in the world for them. I love fitness and being outdoors in the sunshine. I love seeing people enjoy my clothing and absolutely thrive in making people look and feel great in them.
What has been your greatest success so far…
1) I feel like my greatest success so far in my life is my family and being where I am right now. I feel proud to be a wife, a mother, a daughter and on top of that, be able to do something I love as a career from home.
2) I feel like my greatest success so far in my fashion career is starting to see people wear my clothes and love them. It’s a small and simple thing but it brings a smile to my face and makes the hard work worth it.
What inspires you?
Beautiful fabrics inspire me to create. I often spend hours in fabric stores just playing with fabric as idea’s run through my mind. I also get inspired from architecture, antiques, all things vintage, and of course, street and runway fashion.
What goals do you have for GemmaBricknall Design?
I aim to have 4 mini collections out each year for each season, and move onto bigger collections as time goes on. I would love to be able to showcase my work at fashion week one day so I am working with that in mind
Are you creative in other ways?
I have always been interested in ‘hands on’ things. I find myself visualising ways to create and change things up in lots of different situations so I feel like I am a creative person in general.
I believe you have another lovely little creation in your life…
I do…My best creation yet! We are besotted with him and are really enjoying the adventures that come with being new parents.
What do you love about living where you do?
I love the simplicity of living in a small Western Australian town. You bump into at least one person you know most times you go out and there’s no traffic!
Gemma, we love to get to get to know the women we interview by playing a word choice game…so, please choose from the following…
Lace or taffeta?
Lace
Black or white?
White
Birdsong or running water?
Birdsong
Daydreaming or study?
Daydreaming
Pink or orange?
Orange today!
Knee or full length?
Knee
Beach or bush?
Beach!!
Chocolate or fruit?
Fruit, but chocolate definitely has its place
Movies or books?
Movies
Gemma, we would like to thank you for your time and sharing your work.
Check out more of Gemma’s work
Contact Gemma: gem.courtney@hotmail.com