This is a very difficult post to write. One, because it is such a large topic, and two, because Ani often has a completely different viewpoint of the subject from mine. In order to handle these two difficulties, I will a) start with the simplest and most immediate events and b) state my belief that differences of viewpoint are to be expected (and valued) anytime you have two people and I do not speak for Ani even if I might speak of my impression of his viewpoint.
Since 2002, when Ani obtained his adoption records and met his birth father and learned his birth name, birth place, tribe, and family history, Ani and I began to get a few answers to lots of things we had been searching for. Why did Ani not seem to learn from his experiences? Why did Ani keep "shooting himself in the foot" as he used to say? Why did Ani at times feel and act like he was 4 years old, or 8 years old? Why did the AODA programs he went to not seem to be enough help or to make any sense to him? Why was there such a gap between his intelligence and his ability to make good decisions or function in certain situations? Why did punishment have absolutely no effect on him? Why couldn't he anticipate the future or remember big chunks of his past? Why couldn't he keep a job or take care of himself?
What had driven such a wedge between him and his adoptive family that they asked the juvenile corrections people to instruct him not to come home or to contact them when he was released at age 18?
Were there answers that could help this make more sense? Or was it merely an attempt to divert attention from Ani's responsibility for his own choices and behaviors to even look for them? Was this a can of worms that was better left unexamined? From the Christian viewpoint of Ani's adoptive family and the Lutheran schools he attended as a child, Ani may have been seen as an ungrateful and willfully disobedient child who didn't try hard enough, with a deficient character in need of correction, discipline, and punishment. From the Correctional System viewpoint, Ani was a juvenile delinquent, who grew up to be a criminal. To the adoption/foster care system, Ani was a child who was unwanted by his parents and lucky to have a child welfare system to save him and an adoptive family willing to care for him. To the drug and alcohol program folks, Ani had to hit bottom, learn to tolerate pain ("no pain, no gain"), and become responsible for his own life. It is my impression that Ani absorbed bits and pieces of all of these viewpoints about himself, overlaying his own view that he had been stolen from his family and taken from everything and everyone that had meaning for him and that even his knowing of how that happened or how he even knew this was lost to him.
I do not have the answers and neither does Ani. Ani's response to difficult things is to put them under his mattress where they stay until they are safely forgotten or until he feels more able to deal with them. Today he told me that he had just found a whole lot of things under his mattress when he changed his sheets. Ani has limited ability to deal with difficult things and I suppose this strategy has enabled him to survive with his sanity intact, but it doesn't lend itself to a long term project with repeatingly difficult issues like getting the correctional system to allow him to have a thorough and competent neuropsychological evaluation.
There are many steps to this project. For 7 years both he and I asked the Dept of Corrections to allow him to receive treatment that had been recommended for him by an attachment therapist who saw him in 2002. A year ago we hired an attorney who agreed to help us to ask the Dept of Corrections to allow him to receive a more thorough evaluation to establish if there are neurological functional issues interferring with his ability to do things. It has taken one year for the attorney to learn enough for us to jointly develop a plan for moving forward.
In two days the attorney and I will be meeting with Dr. Wargowski who is a professor in the UW School of Medicine and also has a clinical practice. He is reputed to be an expert. The purpose of our meeting is simply to find out if he is the man we want to help us to design the evaluation, get the right professionals to be part of the team, and help us to summarize the findings, discuss the implications, and attempt to implement any treatment or accommodations that might be indicated.
Once we get the evaluation we want planned and outlined, and people on board willing to travel to the prison or see Ani in Madison at a locked facility (paying for Ani to be transported and for the guard who will watch him the whole time who knows how many times), the attorney will then write a detailed request to the prison describing what we want and why. Then we will wait to see if the prison will allow it. We may have to take legal action if they won't allow it, or perhaps they will and there won't be an issue.
Throughout all of this, it is of utmost importance that Ani be involved in decisions that need to be made and in defining and refining our purpose and goals. And, of course, once the evaluation is set up and approved, he will have to participate in it the best he can. These are things that are extremely difficult for him and he puts them under his mattress for them to go away....
So - wish us luck. We will keep you informed of our progress.
Jackie
Sunday, June 27, 2010
I'm Just Saying...
I know that its been a while since my last post, and the delay isn't due to my hectic life. Then again, I suppose that prison life can indeed be hectic. Sadly, this is not the case. Prisons come in two flavors: hellholes and voids. A hellhole prison is one where stabbings, staff assaults, and other unsavory activities are a daily occurrence. These prisons do exist in the United States, but mostly are located in third world countries. The other type of prison, the void, is where the Division of Correction exerts such control over every aspect of day to day life that anything that could be dangerous is removed. By dangerous, that means anything that could cause spontaneous smiling or laughter has been removed from recreation, education, and the food. Guess what kind of prison I exist in?
I don’t like to complain about prison life for a variety of reasons. The first is the most obvious reason: If you don’t like how they run their prisons don’t be a criminal. I’m stupefied when I hear murderers, robbers, and other assorted tough guys whine about the quality and quantity of food, or not being allowed to watch “R” rated movies on the in-house CCTV. My personal belief is that the loss of freedom, something so important that it was mentioned second in the Declaration of Independence, is punishment enough. If I’ve harmed another human being so grievously that I must by segregated from others then how does the infliction of harm on me serve society’s goals?
Punishment is an anachronistic, foolish, and self-defeating policy that only appeals to society’s lowest common denominators. It’s hard to explain to people why dehumanizing prisoners is counter- productive (not to mention grossly hypocritical) to the goals of reformation. On the one hand as a Native American I do understand the inner drive to watch this world burn and to engage in the extinction of the white race. That’s a wee bit extreme but from time to time I get those urges. This desire to get even, for revenge not mere retribution, is human. I get it. I also understand that ultimately this is completely wasteful, a denial of everything this world could be.
I swing wildly between the two viewpoints: hugs and kisses for all or lay waste to all I see. I don’t know where the pendulum will come to rest, but if history is any guide then at some point in the future I’ll be free. What type of man do you want to look in the eyes when the bars are no longer between us and no one is there – the man filled with compassion an empathy for others whose first impulse is to laugh and smile or one that is filled with rage and resentment, devoid of self esteem, and with nothing to care about, or cared by, has nothing to lose?
I have no easy answers. Prison is hard and it should be. Prison should not make people worse and it does. It needs to evolve on a thousand levels from how its run to how it responds to the needs of the inmates, the community, and the needs of society. Bigger minds than mine are needed. Punishment is an anachronism. Reformation is a concept we all mouth toothlessly, unable to marshal the sophistication needed to be better human beings. I know I’ve misspent my meager reserves of potential but I still have a desire to not only be a better human being but to live in a better world.
I don’t like to complain about prison life for a variety of reasons. The first is the most obvious reason: If you don’t like how they run their prisons don’t be a criminal. I’m stupefied when I hear murderers, robbers, and other assorted tough guys whine about the quality and quantity of food, or not being allowed to watch “R” rated movies on the in-house CCTV. My personal belief is that the loss of freedom, something so important that it was mentioned second in the Declaration of Independence, is punishment enough. If I’ve harmed another human being so grievously that I must by segregated from others then how does the infliction of harm on me serve society’s goals?
Punishment is an anachronistic, foolish, and self-defeating policy that only appeals to society’s lowest common denominators. It’s hard to explain to people why dehumanizing prisoners is counter- productive (not to mention grossly hypocritical) to the goals of reformation. On the one hand as a Native American I do understand the inner drive to watch this world burn and to engage in the extinction of the white race. That’s a wee bit extreme but from time to time I get those urges. This desire to get even, for revenge not mere retribution, is human. I get it. I also understand that ultimately this is completely wasteful, a denial of everything this world could be.
I swing wildly between the two viewpoints: hugs and kisses for all or lay waste to all I see. I don’t know where the pendulum will come to rest, but if history is any guide then at some point in the future I’ll be free. What type of man do you want to look in the eyes when the bars are no longer between us and no one is there – the man filled with compassion an empathy for others whose first impulse is to laugh and smile or one that is filled with rage and resentment, devoid of self esteem, and with nothing to care about, or cared by, has nothing to lose?
I have no easy answers. Prison is hard and it should be. Prison should not make people worse and it does. It needs to evolve on a thousand levels from how its run to how it responds to the needs of the inmates, the community, and the needs of society. Bigger minds than mine are needed. Punishment is an anachronism. Reformation is a concept we all mouth toothlessly, unable to marshal the sophistication needed to be better human beings. I know I’ve misspent my meager reserves of potential but I still have a desire to not only be a better human being but to live in a better world.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Guest Blog From Jackie - Day of Ani's Birth
Ani loves his Birthday. It is a great pleasure for me to share with him his delight and glee over the day of his birth. To be with Ani is to be given the gift of unabashed pleasure and fun as a child feels these things.
We can only wonder if Ani's mother and father felt some of this excitement and anticipation over his impending birth, but I have the feeling that they did. I came to know Ani's father from 2002-2006 and I spent quite a bit of time with him. He had a great respect for relationships but also some fear of them. As I came to learn more about Ani's father's family history, I understood more about the complexities of the Chosa family. I do not believe that Ben would have given a son his own name if he didn't intend to raise him. There is love and pride, promise and anticipation, in the act of giving his name to his son. And Ben was capable of huge amounts of these things. He was a man of very deep feeling.
From everything I have heard about Ani's mother, Betty, she was a very fun-loving and loving person. She also had a very complicated family history from what I know of it. It will be important to get more information about Ani's mother before relatives who store this information are no longer with us. Ani's mother Betty was her mother's oldest child. At some point, Betty lived with her grandmother and was adopted by her at age 14. At this time, Betty changed her last name to be the same as her grandmother's.
When Ben and Betty met in Chicago, they were not teenagers. Betty was 29 and Ben was 36. Betty had already had 7 (or 9?) other children before Ani. This was at least her 8th pregnancy. Modern science tells us that the mother's emotions create a chemical bath that passes through the placenta. In that way, the baby feels at a physiological level what his mother feels. If the mother is calm and peaceful, the baby's nervous system grows in an environment of different hormones and chemicals than if the mother is under stress. Ani's experience of family starts here, with a combination of genes, family history, culture, health, and intimate body states as he grew inside of his mother for 9 months, listening to his father's voice. Ani has a basic knowledge of what it means to be loved, and so I believe that joy was in Ani's mother's heart as she waited for her 8th child to be born. Perhaps there was also uncertainty at times.
Ani was born at 7:17 PM on Christmas Eve in 1966 at Cook County Hospital in Chicago, Illinois, named by his parents Ben Chosa, Jr. On his birth certificate it states that parents lived at 4131 N. Sheridan Road, that his father was a mover from "Laflambeau, Wis," age 41, and that his mother, Betty Marie Pierce Chosa, age 29, was born in Neopit, Wis.
This information is not available to many children and adults who were adopted. Ani was able to obtain it with the help of an attorney in 2002. This original birth certificate is an incredibly precious document. I would like to thank Attorney Michael Edmonds for helping us to obtain it and Jacy Boldebuck of the Adoption Search Program in Madison, Wisconsin, who sent Michael Edmonds the adoption file. We were told that the county who took custody of him in 1967 might have more records. So we then contacted Vilas County and after getting a court order - which was not a difficult process. After they got the court order, they looked in their basement and found his record on microfilm there. They printed it out and sent it to us and that file had the orginal birth certificate in it. We would like to thank Beth Moore at Vilas County for helping us to get the Vilas County records.
As I have learned first hand about Ani's experiences with family, I realize that I take family for granted. I take the fact that I know my mother and father for granted. Family members have repeated the story of my birth to me many times on my birthday. I take for granted the feelings that I store in my body that create my assumptions about permanency and security and who I am. It is difficult to realize that my beliefs and assumptions come from these experiences that shaped my world view from infancy through adulthood...and that my experience is just not true for Ani. I often state things about "the way life is" with such certainty that I must sound incredibly naive or superior-sounding to Ani. What must he think when he hears these unintended assumptions about parenting and family as if they are the only way life happens...and yet they exclude his experience entirely?
I was taught to "feel sorry for" children who didn't grow up like me. As a child, I sensed that there was something disrespectful, arrogant, ignorant, and downright dangerous about that teaching, yet I think that I was an unusual child. Aren't we wired to learn our culture's way of doing things so that we can succeed in it? And so wouldn't adoptive parents naturally try to teach their children how to succeed and give them the best they know? Yet, how this wiring must get confused and criss-crossed when a child is taken out of his own culture and raised by strangers who don't share his DNA, his instincts, his language, his history, or his culture! There was little or no education for adoptive parents in 1968 about raising children from another culture.
In 2002, Ani learned who his parents are and was told the story of his birth. During a visit in the prison visiting room, Ani's father told him the story of his 3 children. "I always said that you (Ben Jr.) were my Christmas present, Linda was my birthday present (born near his birthday), and Barbara was my turkey (born on Thanksgiving)." We all laughed at the family joke. I can still hear him saying that and it is a glorious memory.
In his last post about family, Ani said he can never make up for what he lost. The loss sits there, huge, and yet there are good things too. Families are never perfect. But Ani has one. In fact, for better or worse, he has four - his father's family in Lac du Flambeau, his mother's family in the Menomonee nation, his adoptive family, and now my family.
This is Ani's story.
Jackie
We can only wonder if Ani's mother and father felt some of this excitement and anticipation over his impending birth, but I have the feeling that they did. I came to know Ani's father from 2002-2006 and I spent quite a bit of time with him. He had a great respect for relationships but also some fear of them. As I came to learn more about Ani's father's family history, I understood more about the complexities of the Chosa family. I do not believe that Ben would have given a son his own name if he didn't intend to raise him. There is love and pride, promise and anticipation, in the act of giving his name to his son. And Ben was capable of huge amounts of these things. He was a man of very deep feeling.
From everything I have heard about Ani's mother, Betty, she was a very fun-loving and loving person. She also had a very complicated family history from what I know of it. It will be important to get more information about Ani's mother before relatives who store this information are no longer with us. Ani's mother Betty was her mother's oldest child. At some point, Betty lived with her grandmother and was adopted by her at age 14. At this time, Betty changed her last name to be the same as her grandmother's.
When Ben and Betty met in Chicago, they were not teenagers. Betty was 29 and Ben was 36. Betty had already had 7 (or 9?) other children before Ani. This was at least her 8th pregnancy. Modern science tells us that the mother's emotions create a chemical bath that passes through the placenta. In that way, the baby feels at a physiological level what his mother feels. If the mother is calm and peaceful, the baby's nervous system grows in an environment of different hormones and chemicals than if the mother is under stress. Ani's experience of family starts here, with a combination of genes, family history, culture, health, and intimate body states as he grew inside of his mother for 9 months, listening to his father's voice. Ani has a basic knowledge of what it means to be loved, and so I believe that joy was in Ani's mother's heart as she waited for her 8th child to be born. Perhaps there was also uncertainty at times.
Ani was born at 7:17 PM on Christmas Eve in 1966 at Cook County Hospital in Chicago, Illinois, named by his parents Ben Chosa, Jr. On his birth certificate it states that parents lived at 4131 N. Sheridan Road, that his father was a mover from "Laflambeau, Wis," age 41, and that his mother, Betty Marie Pierce Chosa, age 29, was born in Neopit, Wis.
This information is not available to many children and adults who were adopted. Ani was able to obtain it with the help of an attorney in 2002. This original birth certificate is an incredibly precious document. I would like to thank Attorney Michael Edmonds for helping us to obtain it and Jacy Boldebuck of the Adoption Search Program in Madison, Wisconsin, who sent Michael Edmonds the adoption file. We were told that the county who took custody of him in 1967 might have more records. So we then contacted Vilas County and after getting a court order - which was not a difficult process. After they got the court order, they looked in their basement and found his record on microfilm there. They printed it out and sent it to us and that file had the orginal birth certificate in it. We would like to thank Beth Moore at Vilas County for helping us to get the Vilas County records.
As I have learned first hand about Ani's experiences with family, I realize that I take family for granted. I take the fact that I know my mother and father for granted. Family members have repeated the story of my birth to me many times on my birthday. I take for granted the feelings that I store in my body that create my assumptions about permanency and security and who I am. It is difficult to realize that my beliefs and assumptions come from these experiences that shaped my world view from infancy through adulthood...and that my experience is just not true for Ani. I often state things about "the way life is" with such certainty that I must sound incredibly naive or superior-sounding to Ani. What must he think when he hears these unintended assumptions about parenting and family as if they are the only way life happens...and yet they exclude his experience entirely?
I was taught to "feel sorry for" children who didn't grow up like me. As a child, I sensed that there was something disrespectful, arrogant, ignorant, and downright dangerous about that teaching, yet I think that I was an unusual child. Aren't we wired to learn our culture's way of doing things so that we can succeed in it? And so wouldn't adoptive parents naturally try to teach their children how to succeed and give them the best they know? Yet, how this wiring must get confused and criss-crossed when a child is taken out of his own culture and raised by strangers who don't share his DNA, his instincts, his language, his history, or his culture! There was little or no education for adoptive parents in 1968 about raising children from another culture.
In 2002, Ani learned who his parents are and was told the story of his birth. During a visit in the prison visiting room, Ani's father told him the story of his 3 children. "I always said that you (Ben Jr.) were my Christmas present, Linda was my birthday present (born near his birthday), and Barbara was my turkey (born on Thanksgiving)." We all laughed at the family joke. I can still hear him saying that and it is a glorious memory.
In his last post about family, Ani said he can never make up for what he lost. The loss sits there, huge, and yet there are good things too. Families are never perfect. But Ani has one. In fact, for better or worse, he has four - his father's family in Lac du Flambeau, his mother's family in the Menomonee nation, his adoptive family, and now my family.
This is Ani's story.
Jackie
Sunday, March 14, 2010
The Clamicidal Maniac has been driving on me to get a response to her posts of 12-6 and 12-10-09, and I'm determined to get some sort of response out there. While I would like to thank her for her spectacular efforts, I talk to her so frequently that I don't know why I need to post my reactions to her posts. Whatever. I guess that I do understand the need for validation - it's just odd coming from such an accomplished, capable woman.
I'm not too sure I want to talk about her comments about knowing me.
I'm not too sure I want to talk about my family other than acknowledging that most of what has been said about them is true - as far as I know it to be. Klam Killer is right about one thing: I tend to live my relationships rather than analyze or understand them. My brain doesn't work like that - nope, I don't do abstractions.
That being said, here's what my relationship with my birth parents was like. I only knew my father when I met him at my sentencing in 2002; he died a few years after that. So how does that feel? Well, for you emotional vampires out there- I feel angry and cheated.
Maybe I understand that once he sobered up he really tried to do his best by me but so what? Understanding doesn't do shit for me; it seems to do more for other people. So he's gone and I'm not. Knowing him was nice maybe even great. I have a dad he existed; and he was a billion times better than the other one that thought he could buy himself an heir. Since I don't think I have much to say about "fathers" that wouldn't be negative let's move on to the next crappy exhibit. Mothers.
To me, my birth mother was a drunk who chose to go boozing with my "Aunt" rather than take care of her child. Maybe she was more than that in her later years but that means little to me. Maybe there is a reason, a damn good reason, for what she did but it doesn't change things for me. Do we see a pattern forming? For the dense, let me break it down for you - family is a weapon the universe uses against people least equipped to defend themselves from its deprivations. I have a family but for the life of me I don't know what good it is or what to do with them. So there isn't much to say about this subject.
I miss my dad. I miss what I was denied. I will never be complete and I will never stop being full of rage the way it all turned out. Best never to talk about this again. I think I'll just steep and stew in my bile for the next few decades. Good times.
I'm not too sure I want to talk about her comments about knowing me.
I'm not too sure I want to talk about my family other than acknowledging that most of what has been said about them is true - as far as I know it to be. Klam Killer is right about one thing: I tend to live my relationships rather than analyze or understand them. My brain doesn't work like that - nope, I don't do abstractions.
That being said, here's what my relationship with my birth parents was like. I only knew my father when I met him at my sentencing in 2002; he died a few years after that. So how does that feel? Well, for you emotional vampires out there- I feel angry and cheated.
Maybe I understand that once he sobered up he really tried to do his best by me but so what? Understanding doesn't do shit for me; it seems to do more for other people. So he's gone and I'm not. Knowing him was nice maybe even great. I have a dad he existed; and he was a billion times better than the other one that thought he could buy himself an heir. Since I don't think I have much to say about "fathers" that wouldn't be negative let's move on to the next crappy exhibit. Mothers.
To me, my birth mother was a drunk who chose to go boozing with my "Aunt" rather than take care of her child. Maybe she was more than that in her later years but that means little to me. Maybe there is a reason, a damn good reason, for what she did but it doesn't change things for me. Do we see a pattern forming? For the dense, let me break it down for you - family is a weapon the universe uses against people least equipped to defend themselves from its deprivations. I have a family but for the life of me I don't know what good it is or what to do with them. So there isn't much to say about this subject.
I miss my dad. I miss what I was denied. I will never be complete and I will never stop being full of rage the way it all turned out. Best never to talk about this again. I think I'll just steep and stew in my bile for the next few decades. Good times.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
All Hail the Art Critics (you know who you are) :p
It has been brought to my attention that my artwork is inappropriate for some other people's delicate sensibilities. As such, I will be removing all of my art work and potentially reposting it some place else. When this reposting occurs, I will post a link to it. While it is not my practice to post by committee, I realize that my art might be a distraction to some and detract from other equally important issues. This way people who want to read can read and people who want to look at art can look at art.
Update 3/28/2010: To view my art work, go to my blog at: www.banishedart.blogspot.com
Update 3/28/2010: To view my art work, go to my blog at: www.banishedart.blogspot.com
Sunday, January 17, 2010
From the Slightly Skewed Mind of Ben Chosa Jr.
January 4, 2010
Here I sit facing a brand new year having survived a rather tumultuous 2009; although, I wouldn't be honest if I said that the last 365 days weren't both fun and maddening in equal measures. The best part of the year was beginning it with a job; I just didn't finish the year with the same job. This year also marked another trip to segregation. Another new lawyer, and another new angle to take to the courts. Thankfully nobody close to me died, but I'm worried and angry at the hot mess my sister has become. 2009 was the year that I made the best financial decisions of my life, and those who know me best will understand the earth-shattering importance of that. But before I get into that I want to get around to replying to some of the comments from those who have taken the time and effort to observe upon my rather drab and dreary world. Now, my world is that much less so (Is that even a sentence?).
On November 28 2009 anonymous said. . .
" Ani I have no training in art, but I do think that your drawing is very good. I found your blog, somewhat by accident and have read your post with some interest. It would be wrong for me to make judgements regarding your life, but from my perspective, I believe that reality and truth is often the midpoint between the perception of two people. It is good that you are trying to take responsibility for your actions. I hope that you will find peace in your life.”
...To which I say:
I am pleased that you found my blog. This would seem to be a case study in serendipity, and I am a great believer in "happy accidents." Since I have put my life on display I am inviting one and all to not only rubberneck at this car crash I call my Life, but to judge and make both jest and comment in equal portions. To paraphrase Napoleon, "Truth is just a fairy-tale agreed upon." I don't know about truth other than I can let everyone see my life not from my perspective alone, but from the mountain of documents that have been generated in the wake of my passing. It seems that everywhere I've been, loads of records and test results and comments from perfect strangers have been compiled and filed. Whether it was Lutheran Social Services, the Wisconsin Department of Corrections, or some drug treatment hospital, l did not pass through life very quietly. That's okay with me; after all, I have been known to have, at best, only a nodding acquaintance with the truth, so it is fortunate that one doesn't have to take just my word on things. While not always being prompt with taking responsibility I think I wouldn’t be abusing the truth to say that I usually own up to the messes that I make. I do enjoy being recognized for the effort. As for finding peace in my life I think that I’ll settle for having some fun, and laughing a lot. Currently that doesn't seem too far beyond me.
On that I will close and try to get this in the mail and posted.
Ani
Here I sit facing a brand new year having survived a rather tumultuous 2009; although, I wouldn't be honest if I said that the last 365 days weren't both fun and maddening in equal measures. The best part of the year was beginning it with a job; I just didn't finish the year with the same job. This year also marked another trip to segregation. Another new lawyer, and another new angle to take to the courts. Thankfully nobody close to me died, but I'm worried and angry at the hot mess my sister has become. 2009 was the year that I made the best financial decisions of my life, and those who know me best will understand the earth-shattering importance of that. But before I get into that I want to get around to replying to some of the comments from those who have taken the time and effort to observe upon my rather drab and dreary world. Now, my world is that much less so (Is that even a sentence?).
On November 28 2009 anonymous said. . .
" Ani I have no training in art, but I do think that your drawing is very good. I found your blog, somewhat by accident and have read your post with some interest. It would be wrong for me to make judgements regarding your life, but from my perspective, I believe that reality and truth is often the midpoint between the perception of two people. It is good that you are trying to take responsibility for your actions. I hope that you will find peace in your life.”
...To which I say:
I am pleased that you found my blog. This would seem to be a case study in serendipity, and I am a great believer in "happy accidents." Since I have put my life on display I am inviting one and all to not only rubberneck at this car crash I call my Life, but to judge and make both jest and comment in equal portions. To paraphrase Napoleon, "Truth is just a fairy-tale agreed upon." I don't know about truth other than I can let everyone see my life not from my perspective alone, but from the mountain of documents that have been generated in the wake of my passing. It seems that everywhere I've been, loads of records and test results and comments from perfect strangers have been compiled and filed. Whether it was Lutheran Social Services, the Wisconsin Department of Corrections, or some drug treatment hospital, l did not pass through life very quietly. That's okay with me; after all, I have been known to have, at best, only a nodding acquaintance with the truth, so it is fortunate that one doesn't have to take just my word on things. While not always being prompt with taking responsibility I think I wouldn’t be abusing the truth to say that I usually own up to the messes that I make. I do enjoy being recognized for the effort. As for finding peace in my life I think that I’ll settle for having some fun, and laughing a lot. Currently that doesn't seem too far beyond me.
On that I will close and try to get this in the mail and posted.
Ani
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Seasons Greetings
Happy Holidays and Happy New Year from Ani and Jackie.Photo taken at Waupun Correctional Institution on 12/25/2009.
To all of you who follow this blog and support our efforts to find meaning and relationship under difficult circumstances, we send you and your families our very best wishes for a happy and healthy 2010.
We are grateful for your presence in our lives.
Ani and Jackie
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