Wednesday, November 26, 2014

True Thanks: Inconvenient, Difficult, and Rewarding for Everyone Involved

As we're all getting ready for Thanksgiving festivities later today--buying last minute ingredients for the sweet potato casserole and wondering how we're going to deal with the in-laws coming over who always have us wondering "De quelle planète descendez-vous??"--it's easy to forget about friends and family in hospital, especially if we haven't seen them in years, when we've had a falling-out, or when it's just inconvenient to visit.  

We become so easily worried about finding a suitable gift basket to bring to a host's dinner, one that's not cheap or too showy and includes almonds but no peanuts, that we forget about our Aunt Marge who's recovering in the hospital from a bariatric surgery or about our annoying coworker, Greg, who's still in intensive care after a car accident. We so easily forget that these family members and acquaintances, however distantly we know them, enjoy and crave fellowship, particularly on Thanksgiving day, as much as we do.

We think it may be "too inconvenient" to visit these family members and acquaintances in hospital, and we justify our thoughts with the assumption that someone else will probably go visit them--they wouldn't want to see us anyways.  We don't send a card because cards are too old-fashioned and somehow whatever we write in them always sounds awkward and makes us feel uncomfortable.  We don't call because we're too afraid we'll have to say "I'm sorry" for the blow-up and harsh words we exchanged two years ago over a ruined carpet.

So, instead of visiting, sending cards, or even calling, we forget about our relatives and acquaintances in hospital and instead focus on the people we have an easy time spending time with.  It's easier to spend Thanksgiving with our best friend, with a significant other, or with someone with whom we have never argued before.  It's easy to spend time with people who have always treated us well and who make good Thanksgiving foods.  If our annoying coworker Greg doesn't have any visitors for Thanksgiving, it's his own fault for being such a jerk, right?  Of course, we feel "bad" that he was in a car accident, but we would never go visit him in the hospital ourselves because our interactions with him are the cause of so many headaches.  He must have some close family members or friends--let them visit Greg instead...right?

The thanks we give during Thanksgiving should transcend this initial unwillingness to spend time and energy on people when it's not the easy or convenient thing to do.  True "thanks" is not just a noun, nor is it easy.  Giving true "thanks" means extending our gratitude to others through our words and actions.  "Giving thanks" is a verb--we must do it, not just feel it.  If we are truly thankful, our thanks will spill over into compassion and empathy for others.  It's easy to celebrate our thanks with people who do us no wrong and who live less than five minutes away, and we extend our gratitude, compassion, and empathy to them without a second thought.  It's less easy to celebrate our thanks with people who are in a hospital an hour away and who we decided never to speak to again.  This, however, is true gratitude--showing thanks for all people in our lives, no matter what walls we have constructed to block them out.

By visiting or showing care for an "inconvenient" or "difficult" hospitalized family member or acquaintance, we not only come to realize and express our own deep gratitude for all people in our lives, but we help that patient to express and realize his own gratitude.  In fact, patients who have visitors, receive a card, or receive phone calls from friends and family are usually more determined to recover quickly than patients who can interact only with hospital staff.  Patients who interact only with hospital staff and do not receive cards or calls and have no one to have a non-medical conversation with quickly become frustrated.  They often do not wish to recover because they feel they have no one to recover for.  One patient on our floor had no visitors, cards, or phone calls during a hospital stay of several months and soon lost the will to even get up to walk.

In summary, here's a Thanksgiving challenge--make an uncomfortable, inconvenient effort to do one or a combination of these things:
     a)  visit someone you know who's in a hospital--take the time and effort to extend your "Thanks"giving to a family member or acquaintance, especially if you have a hard time facing him, be it because it's inconvenient or emotionally/mentally difficult.  Maybe he is like the patient on our floor who had no visitors for months and you'll be the first to express active "Thanks"giving.
    b)  IF you do not know anyone in a hospital (this means visit anyone you know first), go to a nurses' station on a patient floor in a hospital and ask if there are any patients without visitors, cards, or phone calls whom you can visit.  Spend 30 minutes to an hour just talking with a patient, and extend your "Thanks"giving to them.
    c)   I know many people have definite Thanksgiving plans.  If this is the case, and you CANNOT (not "cannot conveniently," but are actually incapable) visit family members, acquaintances, or random lonely patients, make a phone call, send an email, or Skype chat with someone you know who's in a hospital.  Offer support, and arrange a time to physically visit that person within the next month--maybe for Christmas!
    d)   Send a card to someone you know who's in a hospital--you'd be surprised how few cards patients get.  In my entire unit, I typically see fewer than four or five people who have received a card.


Happy Thanksgiving!

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Haikus For "Yous"

Hallo mes amis,
I wrote some haikus for "yous"
amuse-toi; merci:


I wrote some haikus.
You are reading them right now,
wishing I hadn't.


PC restarted
I was working on some stuff.
Now it is erased.


I'm drowning in math;
It's linear programming.
"It's simple," they say.


Your ad on YouTube
Does not make me more likely
To buy your product.


Your ad on YouTube
Does make me much more likely
to close YouTube tabs.


Sherlock wears trench coats
And so do I; so therefore...
make your deductions.


I miss France right now;
So many good foods to eat,
such beautiful light.


J'ai un espresso.
Ich liebe dich, espresso,
comme le chocolat


Why espresso "shots?"
I'd like a full cupful please...
not this tiny thing.


What is this "bae" stuff?
"Swedish defense company??"
Stop using this please!


If you give me cheese,
I will love you forever
but I won't share it.


You are wondering:
"How many more of these things
do I have to read?!?"


This is the last one.
Merci beaucoup--will write more.
Subscribe to this blog.

 © 2016   Abby Danfora

Saturday, November 1, 2014

A Modern Mrs. Shimerda

Halloween gets creepier and creepier each year.

People don't say "trick-or-treat" anymore.  They don't even say "hi," let alone "thank you" when they come to your door.  They stare at you with creepy eyes and grab half of what's in the bowl, then turn and clamber back up the driveway, groaning like the undead because we gave out Snickers instead of Starbursts.  For starters, who in their right mind would prefer Starbursts to Snickers?

If I say anything like "don't you want to leave some for other people?", they'll just look up from the bowl, blink a few times, and grab another handful.  Most of "them" aren't even kids.  Many are old enough to be my parents, some even to be my grandparents.

Four or five years ago, when I first started staying home to give out candy and watch TCM movies instead of trick-or-treating, most people still dressed up in costumes.  Everyone walked door-to-door, either because gas prices were too high to drive or because they weren't afraid of burning some calories before eating several thousand more in candy.  Kids would say "trick-or-treat" and usually took only one or two things voluntarily, sometimes three after asking if they could.  The same families would come back year after year, and only the kids took candy--not the kids and the kids' parents and the kids' grandparents.  No one took "some extras" for their fifteen cousins with broken ankles or for their dogs who "just love" candy.

Now, everyone drives huge vans and SUVs door to door, and I half wonder why some people don't just drive golf carts up the driveway from their SUVs to our front door as well.  Kids pound furiously on the doorbell until I'm sure they're going to break the door down with a battering ram, and it often turns out they're not even kids.  One lady has come to our door with her grandson for the past three years (with her own bucket for candy), and I'm sure she's at least 60.  She's a modern Mrs. Shimerda (go read My Ántonia...now!).  I honestly don't mind her that much because she's sweet and at least smiles and actually has a kid with her, but most of the other adults going door-to-door don't have a kid anywhere to be seen and don't bother trying to be nice.

What's more, half of the people who come trick-or-treating don't say "trick-or-treat" or "hi" or even smile like the 60-year-old lady.  They smile like the guy in the trailer of The Purge, sometimes complete with machete.

There is one traditional family each year.  They dressed up as a family of demonios once, as vampires the year after.  They all wear full costumes--mom, dad, and all three kids--but the parents don't have their own buckets for candy and they insist that their children be polite and not run off with our whole bowl of offerings.  They don't have fifteen cousins back at home with broken ankles who couldn't go trick-or-treating on their own, they don't drive a huge SUV that blocks out the moon, they don't pound on the door and wail like banshees because we're giving out Snickers instead of Starbursts.  They understand the simple fact that candy with chocolate is infinitely better than candy without chocolate.

Ironically, they don't speak English very well, but they say "trick-or-treat" and "please" and "thank you" and even talk to me about their costumes.  For people who barely speak English, they say a whole lot more than most people who come to the door speaking English as a first language.  They smile--and not like the Joker or like characters out of The Purge.  Each year, it's refreshing to see them waltzing up the driveway after hordes of Starburst-thirsty adults in ripped jeans and faded college t-shirts have stormed through.

I guess my question is, "Why has the average trick-or-treater family gone from being like the nice demonio family to being a horde of modern Mrs. Shimerdas?"  Are there still neighborhoods of legit trick-or-treaters, or is this the new norm?  

What will the average trick-or-treater be like when the little demonio kids grow up and are giving out candy themselves?

Thursday, October 30, 2014

"Packing up my Dinosaurs"


Hey all,

I have over a dozen posts still in the draft stages and no time to really work on a real post or poem or short story (or anything) for a while, but I also don't want to fall back into making one post per year.  Since I don't have time to be creative, shouldn't and won't plagiarize, and want to keep at least some of you checking back here every few months, here are some fully-attributed quotes. Some are funny, some are inspiring, some could be taken either way...

"Isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?"  -L.M. Montgomery

"Be yourself; everyone else is already taken."  -Oscar Wilde

“Le plus grand faible des hommes, c'est l'amour qu'ils ont de la vie. ” —Molière (Translates roughly to:  "The greatest failure of men is the love they have of life")

"Life isn't fair, it's just fairer than death, that's all."  -William Goldman (The Princess Bride)

"Some of the worst mistakes in my life were haircuts" -Jim Morrison

"...to love is never wrong.  It may be disastrous; it may never be possible; it may be the deepest agony.  But it is never wrong."  -Alison Croggon   

"We are all mistaken sometimes; sometimes we do wrong things, things that have bad consequences.  But it does not mean we are evil, or that we cannot be trusted ever afterward." -Alison Croggon

“I have never listened to anyone who criticized my taste in space travel, sideshows or gorillas. When this occurs, I pack up my dinosaurs and leave the room.” -Ray Bradbury

“I love deadlines. I love the whooshing noise they make as they go by.” ― Douglas Adams

“Anyone who thinks sitting in church can make you a Christian must also think that sitting in a garage can make you a car.” ― Garrison Keillor


Merci mes amis,
Ciao !

Thursday, September 25, 2014

Half-Truth Half-Fiction Author Bio

Abby Danfora has lived in NC all of her life.  She has even lived in the same house all of her life, and makes it a habit never to leave her desk chair unless required.  On the rare occasions when she does leave her desk chair, she can be found sitting in other chairs at other desks in school.  She loves sitting at desk chairs more than anything, even more than chocolate, for which she has repeatedly committed sabotage in order to attain.

In her spare time, when she is prohibited from sitting at desk chairs, she can often be found trying to cook, imagining she's a writer, or taking pictures of writers at work and of dishes other chefs have made.  Her own cooking abilities include spaghetti, homemade pizza, and her own chocolate cake recipe, which the Watergate Hotel bought for five thousand dollars in '07.  They also tried to buy her recipe for brownies, but that is a closely guarded secret, is not for sale, and was not inspired in any way by the film I Love You Alice B. Toklas.

Her writing accomplishments include winning the Writer's Digest short story competition, being published by Random House on 25% royalties, and running this blog, which has a whopping fifteen-thousand followers.  She thanks you for your support, and is considering having random giveaways should her number of followers increase to twenty-thousand.

While some of her photography can be seen on the "la photographie" tab of this blog, this collection pales in comparison to a number of her works which have been featured on National Geographic and Bon Appétit magazine covers.

Abby is considering joining the Peace Corps, going to medical school, continuing her life as a published writer, photographer, and chef, and one day wants to complete a solo flight around the world before settling down to be a stay-at-home mom.  By following her blog and by sending her frequent boxes of chocolate, you are helping to support her dream.

Saturday, July 5, 2014

Davidson July Experience Program Day 1!!!

So, some of you know I'm going to be at Davidson College (my dream college!) for the entire month of July for their July Experience Program.  Today (technically yesterday since it's past midnight) was the first day and it was too amazing to put into words, so I thought I'd keep my writing brief and mostly share some photos.  Keep in mind, we haven't even started our classes yet (I'm taking a neuroscience class and an intercultural communications class), and it's still just that amazing.

Highlights of the day included eating dinner with staff and teachers and getting to know them, lunch at Ming's Bistro before check-in, fancy dinner complete with chocolate-covered strawberries, not one but TWO cups of black coffee (besides chocolate, it's what runs in my veins!), and a tour and scavenger hunt around campus.

Car ride...
 
Ming's Bistro menu

Card games during break!

Track



Coconut-covered chocolate-covered strawberries

Cup #2

Chocolate covered strawberries <3



More updates (mostly photos) to come over the next few weeks!  Tschüß :)

Sunday, June 15, 2014

Ink and Paper

I wrote this poem a few years ago when I was 14ish and was really happy with it then.  I dug it out of a folder today, and I can't decide if I still like it or if it's too melodramatic.  I'm leaning towards the latter, I think.
 
 
To write
Glistening words on a page
Creating worlds
Shaped by
Dragons,
Dreams,
And thoughts unspoken but by the whisper of pages.
The pen paints with letters upon a virgin sheet;
It pauses,
Suspending thoughts in the air,
Then resumes its flight along the white sea.
A flight of freedom;
A limitless journey.
Ink,
And paper.
 
© 2012 Abby Danfora
 
What do you think?  Too melodramatic?
 
Tschüß !  :)