Susan's Scribblings the Blog

Tag: love

• September Tsunami

  Posted at 7:10 pm by kayewer, on September 5, 2026

  The first week of September came with some baggage. Normally this is the month that starts with Labor Day a few days in and then turns into chaos after that. This time we had a few days to get started without the holiday, which falls seven days afterward. This gave me an entire week to have everything happen before the holiday arrives.

  Back when I graduated high school, on graduation day I had my braces removed and a nearly invisible metal bridge put in. That three-piece set of hardware stayed with me for 48 years and chose now to come apart. As I was doing my nightly flossing, the wire detached and performed a perfect dive into the sink. Fortunately, it left no rough pieces behind, so this week I went to the dentist and had the bands removed, making me metal free and having to adjust to my teeth’s new normal. What surprised me is how different flossing is now that I don’t need to navigate an orthodontic piece after nearly five decades of routine.

  My social media feed kept throwing negativity my way, mentioning anti-vaccine items alongside news of the first new cases of measles taking the lives of infants among other things. A new series of posts honoring children whose lives were taken either by their own hands after bullying or at the hands of others, were interspersed with recollections of 9/11, which is less than a week away. Children died both in the towers and aboard the flights. For all the deaths mentioned this week, it could fill a stadium.

  The weather has been chaotic as well, and I sat in the office munching on lunch while tempests swirled outside. Inside the office it was 68 degrees, and everybody (meaning about a quarter full floor of humanity for reasons I still can’t fathom) wears sweaters. I was ready to bring in a pair of mittens, for my hands were getting borderline chapped from the chilly air blasting from the overhead ducts. Maintenance is trying to fix it, but I think they need to bring a Boomer out of retirement to really figure it out. These new folks don’t have the same training or seasoned experience. Sorry guys.

  On the days I work from home, my laptop and external monitors have been rebelling and shutting off at unpredictable times. Strangely, the work issued monitor is the one that shuts off, while my second personal monitor stays reliable. I had fun with the IT department while we tried to remotely figure out what magic routine would restore me to side-by-side production.

  Finally, I have been reading physical newspapers all my life, and the process of weaning myself from this has been difficult. Some people may think that the days of doing crossword puzzles in ink on actual paper are fading away, but since I began doing online puzzles my interest in the physical media has been mostly for headlines, comics and “Dear Abby.” Since Jeanne Phillips no longer does the column herself and has retired to let the staffers handle the incoming requests for advice, that was the signal for me to separate further from the monthly expense. I called the local paper and found out that I had a balance, so by downgrading I wouldn’t need to pay a bill for some time. Reminds me of the time, when I was much younger, that I lost track of a magazine subscription and was paid in advance for over two years. Thank goodness advance pay can give the budget a break for a while.

  When I came up for air, the weekend had arrived, so I’ve been using these three days to do some work around the house before the day after Labor Day comes and school starts. Everybody who was off the grid for June, July and August and who got a bonus week in September will be trying to wade through the deluge of real life.

  I feel like I’ve gotten a head start.

  Share this:

  • Facebook

  Like Loading...
  Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged family, life, love, writing

• Oh Mother!

  Posted at 7:24 pm by kayewer, on May 9, 2026

  May 10 is Mother’s Day, when the world takes a day to reflect on the parent who spearheaded our existence. Whether for good or bad, we all have a mother who produced us cell by cell for roughly nine months, and after that we grew our individual history with guidance from adults and others in our age group. Some of us become parents and carry on the circle of how human population continues on our planet.

  Others may not have the privilege of motherhood in the traditional sense. There is adoption and surrogacy, but there are also those who simply never have the experiences that others take for granted. These are the ones who feel out of place on Mother’s Day.

  We see how other parents tend their children. We watch social media and view the steppingstones in a child’s life. Naturally we know about what mothers endure after childbirth, such as post-partum depression, exhaustion, bodily alterations from breastfeeding and the like. As children grow, mothers tend the school lunches and wardrobes, oversee homework and act as the taxi service to sports practice. Teens still need shuttling to sports practice, and they start dating, adding to a mother’s concerns.

  But one day a year these kids of various ages may go out for brunch with their mothers, or present handmade gifts or flowers.

  Some of us older children pay a visit to a gravesite.

  And a few more simply don’t bother, for a variety of reasons.

  Nor all mothers are great parents, but we all would not be actively doing anything at this moment if somebody didn’t walk the path to bringing us with hearty cries into the universe. Sure there are truly bad mothers (and fathers whose day is coming up as well), but whether our mothers are still part of our active lives or not, they can never truly be erased from memory.

  Whether you are a mother or never have been, this is the day to at least say, “This is the day to remember mothers.”

  Even mothers who did not give you life have contributed much to this world. In addition to raising children, some women invented, wrote novels, worked battlefields or took over men’s jobs (a large contribution in World War II). The multi-tasker mothers of the past two centuries have brought us into a modern world in which possibilities for women and men alike have never been greater. And for the longest time, they changed cloth diapers.

  So here’s to mothers. Where would we be without them?

  Share this:

  • Facebook

  Like Loading...
  Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged family, life, love, Mother's Day, motherhood

• Hearts and Flowers

  Posted at 5:03 pm by kayewer, on February 14, 2026

  Today is Valentine’s Day. For me, it’s a Saturday like any other. I’m not going to complain about being single, because that got old a long time ago and accomplishes nothing. What I will do is be pragmatic about what this holiday means for not just me, but for a variety of people.

  In the good old days when I took a train to work, I would see men going home on the 5:00 express with balloons and roses in their hands. Sometimes they seemed happy about it. Sometimes it was difficult to read their emotions. They did make the effort, and I imagined the women they went home to and the joy that came with the simple act of remembering the love sparked between them.

  On the other hand, I just read earlier today about a man who, upon hearing a random stranger’s compliment about how pretty his girlfriend was, went home and argued with her about it, and ended up breaking her eye socket.

  Why this particular holiday has turned into such a polarizing event is unclear. One thing is certain, and it’s that love and interpersonal relationships are not what they used to be.

  Once upon a time, love was simple. One person found the presence of another to be a thrill beyond measure. They met, they dated, they possibly became close friends or even partners, leading to marriage and a future filled with all the things life is made of.

  For some people, there is no simplicity to love. Back when it was an elementary school tradition to decorate shoeboxes with colorful applications and cut a delivery slot in the top for the big day, there were always one or two students whose boxes were empty. It was accepted. No effort was made to fix it. It was a fact of life that some people were simply not eligible for the basics of human compassion.

  Somehow the evolution of women also meant that men grew to resent us somewhat. We went from Rosie the Riveter who stepped up to do abandoned jobs when the men went to war in Europe and the Pacific in World War II, to the perfectly put-together housewife in a dress and apron with dinner, alcohol and a smoke ready for the hard-working man of the house upon his return. Then came the era of “free love” and rebellion, but human sexuality was still mentioned with restraint, followed by the evolution of openness about everything. It seems now that both genders have access to more information (and misinformation) than before.

  And we get stories about the father-to-be playing video games while the mother is in active labor or passing out when they show an interest in the process and realize how much actually comes out from something they, um, put in, nine months ago. And they get annoyed about it and lose respect for women. On the flipside, new mothers dealing with gaming addicts for fathers are not in any better situation.

  So, once a year we turn all the craziness into a box of candy (which is infuriatingly artificial and overpriced) and a bunch of roses forced in greenhouses and wrapped in pink and red for presentation’s sake. And this is supposed to be an expression of love.

  Whatever happened to human values? Respect and dignity are a part of love as much as that frisson coming from being struck by Cupid’s arrow. The poor woman who had her eye rearranged just because somebody said she was pretty is spending the day recovering. Some will endure abusive relationships, while others may be lucky enough to receive an affirmation of what should be true love.

  Why everybody doesn’t deserve such luck is one reason why I’m spending yet another Valentine’s Day alone. Whatever you’re doing, here’s hoping it at least doesn’t leave anything (including a heart) broken.

  Share this:

  • Facebook

  Like Loading...
  Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged holidays, love, valentine's day, valentines, writing

• Opinion Page

  Posted at 5:55 pm by kayewer, on March 1, 2025

  Wouldn’t it be a strange world if the only opinion that mattered was your own? It may seem perfect to you, because you would no longer become upset by a different point of view.

  Imagine, though, how difficult it would be to find one person who was exactly like you in every idea, concept, and span of knowledge. It’s impossible to do, because every human being has a different story and, therefore, different opinions on everything.

  Often we want to destroy or alter opinions which are not our own. From the earliest days of man, when people dared to call the world round and germs visible only with enlarging technology an important part of our lives, to today’s polarizing protests and fearmongering about defining what we are, believe, say, or do, there has always been room for two opposing ideas. It took a lot of growing and compromising to get there, however.

  In her school days, my mother, a National Honor Society member, presented a report with a brown and turquoise book cover. She received points off. Nobody uses brown and turquoise together, the teacher said. The rule must have been written in stone somewhere.

  I, too, have been blasted for having opinions all my life, and so has everybody else. Sometimes, however, the things we’re criticized for have little overall effect and can be rather silly. When I was a kid, for example, one of my favorite breakfast leftovers was hamburger and gravy on a soft slice of white bread; when I presented that idea for a theme on what we ate in the morning, my teacher acted as if I had said strychnine. Just because she never had dinner leftovers for breakfast, nobody else could have them, either. So said she, so it was, at least back then, written in stone. I got points off.

  Remember that beer commercial in which the two sides argued, “Tastes great,” and “Less filling?” Until they came out with an ad that clarified it had both attributes, it was a pop culture argument with no true winner, and that can be frustrating. Perhaps there are no “winners,” but simply “compromises.”

  Nobody has the exact same opinion on everything, which is what gives us individuality of character. Often our differences are meaningless, such as people from South Jersey calling a certain spicy meat product Taylor’s Pork Roll, while in North Jersey it’s called Taylor Ham (true story). A hoagie is a sub in some places. Soda is pop or tonic. These are small things which do not have an effect on daily life. Both camps live harmoniously.

  When we delve into politics or social issues, however, the arguments become chaotic or even violent when opinions differ. When it comes to human life in particular, sometimes people are in favor of everybody suffering collectively. They don’t offer good reasons or even compassion or financial help: everybody simply must get in the pool of misery and keep quiet about it.

  Politics is a slippery course to wade through, because those in favor of one party often act as if those on the other side are all evildoers deserving of annihilation. Remember, the only people who belong are those who are exactly the same as you.

  So today I was hoisted up for a shaming session because my opinion wasn’t the same as a celebrity’s. Shame on me. At least the argument was not over pork roll or ham. Also, I didn’t say the person was wrong; just that my experience was different. We can all get along and still not agree.

  Share this:

  • Facebook

  Like Loading...
  Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged life, love, mental-health, philosophy, politics

• Better to Have

  Posted at 3:17 pm by kayewer, on February 8, 2025

  Some holidays are more difficult for people to navigate than others. Valentine’s Day is a particularly polarizing event simply for its implications and social cues by which we all judge our current life.

  When I was commuting to work by train, I would see men on Valentine’s Day boarding the car with balloons bouncing off each other and roses crinkling in their cellophane encasements. Some of the men carrying these tokens of affection seemed proud, while others appeared to be embarrassed. Still, some lucky person waiting at the end of the line would be receiving these gifts.

  Some other items were easier to carry, such as a big box of confections, or would be more easily concealed, such as a piece of jewelry or a small box with what could be anything hidden inside, such as a little naughty negligee. Whatever the gift, it was going home to somebody to whom someone has bestowed their love.

  The rest of us just carry on.

  What is more heartbreaking than to be somebody with nobody who loves them? The kid in school your children collectively bully decorates a box with paper hearts and drawings, and on February 14 finds the box empty (or the altruistic child who was taught well by their parents submits a token entry). The teenager sits at home while others engage in boundary-testing behaviors with others their age. As for the adults–the once-married-now-divorced or those who shrugged off the burdens of useless relationships with abusers or those displaying other red flags–the best they can do is sigh with relief and look forward to a possible future and a second try at a relationship. The person who has never been loved is in a world of singular pain nobody else can fully understand.

  The world outside the door of the unloved is like a graveyard populated by houses filled with people who tolerate your existence but don’t question why you live as you do. You barely see them all week. Your phone doesn’t ring. The only people knocking on your door are solicitors or religious pamphlet carriers. Retailers put on their politest face, and “That will be $25.98” may be the best thing they hear for days at a time.

  Social media is salt in emotional wounds, as endless posts of “my new child/grandchild” or “our trip to this romantic getaway” remind them of what they will never experience. Nostalgic pages remind them of events they never went to: anybody’s wedding, prom, class trips.

  They look in the mirror and see what nine months of construction in the womb provided, yet it seems to be insufficient for anybody else to acknowledge or appreciate. The days, months and years continue, and the spirit is stripped of any hope or encouragement. These are the people who die alone, surrounded by nobody. There is no obituary, because whatever they accomplished doesn’t matter to a soul.

  And this is okay. It must be, because it happens daily. We feel we have the right to be silent in ignorance of what that can do to somebody. We never stop to think that the old man who may not smell pleasant may have sacrificed buying a bar of soap so their electricity would stay on in the winter, or the woman with a speech problem survived oral cancer and is happy to be able to talk at all. We judge and reject without care, when that is exactly what some human beings need: care. Sometimes just asking, “How are you” and “What do you need today” can be eye-opening.

  But no, leave those people wondering why nobody loves them. That’s the humane thing to do, especially on Valentine’s Day. Silence in this case is not golden, but poison, and we decide to whom we give that poison through cancel culture and social rejection, which is probably the single worst thing that one can (or should) do. When the world needs love the most, don’t turn your back and say it’s somebody else’s problem, because in the end, we are all “somebody else.”

  Survive Valentine’s Day, everybody.

  Share this:

  • Facebook

  Like Loading...
  Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged love, social-rejection, valentine's day

• Feedback

  	Eden on A Good Rabbit Hole
  	Eden on Free Secretary
  	Eden on Getting the Message
  	Eden on The Unasked Questions
  	Eden on And Her Shoes Were #9