TalkingGrid

A few days after Father’s Day…. I’m thinking of my father. 

I’ve written about him and our close connection before.  Read Dr. Daniel E. Branagan; Mi Padre was an Ideal Dad, if you like…

Since his death, I’ve grown closer to my father.  I have come to idealize him.  He is a Saint, now.  He visits me, with advice, when I need his support.  An attorney in Dominican Republic, whose political/professional ambitions were thwarted, destined to failure.  (He was naive, a firm believer in the goodness of man, his fellows, in the LAW, as a force toward good… redemption.  He believed in THE SYSTEM, jails in his mind, served to “rehabilitate some…” Thus,  he voted conservatively.)  I admire him, never-the-less for his lofty ambitions and solid morality.  He cared.  He demonstrated and proved a fierce, attentive, love for me as a little person.

Toward the end of his life, my father went HOME.  He went back to his “people.”  He choose to avoid traditional medical care until the cancer had spread.  It was too late when he tried.  (Santo Domingo, the capital of Dominican Republic, has excellent doctors and offers excellent medical care at much less out-of-pocket-cost than in the United States.)   I believe he died in relative peace, even though I was not at his bedside.  

I saw him a few months before he died.  I traveled through dimensions, as one does when going from one culture to another, to his heimat.  But it was more than just a trip into a world I am a part of yet… I’ve not been there much in the last twenty years.  I grew up visiting Santo Dominigo.  During summer vacations, we’d go and stay with my mother’s family, in their old home, which is no longer in the family, it exists but the whole neighborhood around it was demolished in order to make room for progress.  The old fashioned, brightly painted, tin-roofed and wooden homes, that decorated the neighborhood, were a “fire hazard, “and impossible to standardize.  Whole neighborhoods, middle-class barrios vanished.  Yet, the city keeps growing, moving forward.  You don’t see street kids, looking to shoe-shine or beg a little change for their families, anymore.  The government did something, schools, I think. I tried to move there, once.  My father was living there, but he had a woman… he did not even like her all-that-much, he complained about her ignorance, or lack of interest in Mayan Codexes which are housed in the Faro a Colon ,a whole sad  monument to, of-all-unfashionable-people, Christopher Columbus.  He had no room in his mature, attempts at establishing his dream life, his public unfolding, his grand success for a twenty-something and lost, me.

Columbus, curiously enough “discovered,” Santo Domingo and made it his base of operations.  He lived there and governed until his brother took over.  Descendants of the family are still active members of Dominican Society.  We are the oldest city in the New World, with the oldest church, university, and infrastructure.  We had a powerful dictator for a long time, which means we have working roads, a functional telephone system, and a very stable society; despite unrest, poverty, and other ills (which plague all nations, except the northern European societies which benefit from their government’s former exploitation of colonies and slave trading, generations ago.  Wealth, being a “civilizing,” factor.).  Today, Thursday, 24 April 2014 Frau Kolb types, from a, “centered quiet place within,” having slept well, dreamt of nothing… passed out from a day fulfilling obligations, duties.

What do you do that you don’t want to do, really?  What fills you with dread until it is behind you and then you realize that it isn’t so bad?

Well, for me… sometimes, my children’s school projects, deadlines, homework, teacher conferences, meetings… Oh!  It is all too much.  I get really stressed out.  I have to buy poster board!  Tape!  Do this.  Do that.  Help!  Now, I see… why my mother never went to school to talk to my teachers.  My father did when I was little.  When he could… when he wasn’t working, selling furniture in Manhattan, New York City.  He worked, a lot.  He studied law, earned an attorney’s title and thought he’d take his NEW WIFE to America, like she wanted, for six months—get loaded— and be able to set themselves and her four little ones; in their home nation, Dominican Republic, in the Spanish speaking capital, first city of the New World, home to Christopher Columbus, and his clan: Santo Domingo.  Of course, six months after arriving in New York City, they had long ago worn out the middle class digs where they dropped as friends of family for the first few weeks and had passed to less comfortable accommodations, incurring debt along the way.  (They had a duty to send money home.)

The first job my father took in the United States was as a dishwasher in a restaurant.  It broke his proud heart, yet he took the position.  He was punctual, attentive, and compliant; a better dishwasher doing a better job, rinse, and repeat.  Shortly, there after, he had a better gig in a nicer spot; always… punctual, attentive, compliant; like his parents, descendant of African slaves brought to the Caribbean, imported to St. Croix… part of an Anglo-Irish household of prominence; as domestics… house slaves, virtually… yet, English speakers.

My father’s accented English was faultless.  He spoke it with flare and taught me to, “always carry a book with me,” after teaching me to read, at home so that by age three, I was very good at it.  Then he taught me to play chess… that was fun, beating old men, playing in the park; a five year old girl in a handmade cotton dress with pink satin bows decorating her flat little chest… quickly executing a “check mate!”  Her father, laughingly… collecting cash.

When I was a kid, growing up in Manhattan, I could always call my Daddy at work, on 14th Street near Union Station where he was the top salesman on the floor.  He’d always answer, taking my after school calls, with glee in his voice.   My father advised me, “Watch people.  Their bodies never lie.  Their intentions are always clear in their eyes, on their faces… you will see what they are thinking IF you look carefully enough.  They will call you a Mind Reader… I see the ones that come in with the intention to buy and I facilitate their transactions. I provide guidance, information, and encouragement. I sell.”  He would contrast himself to the, “young and inexperienced,” salespeople that would, “jump on everybody walking in; wasting their energy and leaving the real business of furniture sales to me. Hah!”  He’d laugh.  I’d admire his thunder.  He was amazing so black, tall, fit like a knight; always ready for a challenge; thus, he died loving my mother.

“People…” my Dad would explain, “Love walking into stores; just to LOOK… that is why they call it a furniture gallery… they can’t afford or don’t want to buy… ignore these people and they will be thankful for it.”  Yet, “Costumers are clients… ignore these people and well, not only will you not have a job for long, it isn’t fun selling furniture if you don’t DO IT.” and then he would look down at me sternly and say, “And… you know, Cari… most people can’t really afford good furniture.  They can’t afford a sandwich for a girl on date-night, my Dear.  They don’t understand that money flows whenever and wherever it wills… we just have to be there to get our share.”  Work!  Pay attention.  Read.  Write.  Bike ride.  Walk.  Repeat.

He trained me well to think, and thus fulfilled his duty; providing for me and equipping me with people reading and sales skills; teaching me to pay attention to others as a means of fulfilling my own needs, “going with the flow,” of money… instead of against it… he taught me to swim the high seas of responsibility and come ashore today with pride.

Hah!

Thank you, Dad.

Loving Thursday,

Frau K.

Watercolor on paper © by Frau Kolb, 2011

How dare I compare myself with Angelina Jolie?  She is a Hollywood goddess, right? Who the hell do I think I am to mention that Breast C A N C E R connects more women than one can imagine? We sisters that have faced the HORROR the Horror of fear and decided to take action in preservation and honor of our health can move forward in life to embrace all the joys of being here NOW!

Angelina Jolie is one such woman, stepping up to the world and announcing that one has choices, options, and that making decisions is NOT easy but that one can create a worthy life through making active health choices rather than avoiding preventative measures.  The concept that one can avoid facing the death threat of cancer by having the surgery before the cancer is NEWS to me! I wish I had known that I had this option.  After nursing my two children I’d have certainly considered taking the same bold step as Jolie.  Since I have the same genetic mutation of the Brca1 and Brca2, which made my cancer POP out of no-where and grow—super aggressive and fast—to stage three, which has a 50/50 prognosis, I’d have done nearly anything to avoid the harsh and frightening realities of chemotherapy and radiation. The point really is in being aware that one has options, choices to make, tests to take.  I wish I’d known about the gene.  I did not.  Yet…

Breast cancer and its horrific treatment with chemotherapy was… well only bearable because of some basic life choices I had in place, which made it so that during treatment I had the strength to write a list of 100 things I loved about MY CANCER.  The unpublished book, “Cancer with Style,” is the journal of embracing LIFE, LOVE, ART and Adventure as a strategy for life in which I chronicled the ups and downs of embracing life as a means of addressing the breast cancer crisis.

The first solid choice: a great husband.  It looks like Angelina and I share this decisive factor at the center of our lives.  ONE needs friends, family, and warm fuzzy feelings about living in order to hang on. The next key: great doctors, shop around.  Jolie and Frau Kolb both opted for the Pink Lotus Breast Center of Beverly Hills.  Kristi Funk is a great doctor and really treated me with the respect and caring one expects in the doctor of one’s choice.

Artist, Terri Amig, posted a mention, a reminder, to me that NOT all women are so fortunate.  This is true.  However, health concerns are testing grounds for rich and poor, alike.  Yet, without health insurance… I think one’s options would be limited.  Yet, I’m aware of at least one single (yes she’s gorgeous) woman that made smart choices regarding her health and had a lot of fun despite dealing with breast cancer without health insurance.  She rallied her friends, family, and committed herself to a medical treatment, which worked for her.  I commend her and all other women to be proactive about their health, their lives.  Get check-ups.  Get tested for the gene.  Make decisions.  These steps might be impossible to implement with the same level of panache and glamour associated with Jolie.  Yet, IF you are determined to take care of yourself, you can and will make sound choices.  By asking questions, visiting public libraries, and doing internet research you are very likely to be able to amass a fortunate of viable options available to all that seek out their own well being.

We all have options.  But the willingness to step forward, be brave, and take charge is the height of mastery and I must say I admire Jolie.  I always have and as the years pass she only more wins my admiration for her bold decisive nature and continual commitment to being an example of forward thinking open minded savvy which is now legendary.  Yet, it is vital to remember that we are all the STARS of our own lives and must find the strength to LIVE, to accept responsibility of our quality of life and to embrace being able to make, even difficult, choices.

So ENJOY your power to make choices, get informed, and be as bold and powerful as any celebrity in your own estimation and proclamation!

Much Love,

Frau Kolb

Chilled Champagne is an essential ingredient in any diet I undertake.  So WHEREVER you are, pour yourself a tall skinny glass of bubbly and let’s toast to the prospect of a new you! (Or not, I’ve since recently, reconsidered my position on this critical issue: to drink or not to drink… that was the question.  I think I’m over alcohol, but I’ll keep you posted…)

Now, I’m going to tell YOU.  I am NOT a nutritionist.  I am not a fashion model.  I am a woman that LOVES FOOD and eats a lot.  I’m not particularly young and Yet, I’ve lost weight as needed after gaining weight as needed for pregnancy and post wrestle with life-threatening bout of evil breast cancer (cause: a genetic mutation).

Since November, when my beautiful doctor, a man, older than me… I calculate he must be older than me, he went to medical school and became a luminary in his field… told me, “It is time we talk about your weight.”  I was twenty five pounds heavier than I am today.  I just shrugged my shoulders.  I thought: “Hey, I’m older now, I had cancer, I’m busy, I have kids, blah, blah, blah.”  In other words, I thought:  I have to be FAT.  Everybody is FAT after a “certain age…”  Yet, sitting before me was a really good looking super-skinny and well coiffed presumably older-than-me MAN.  I was a little beaten down, having surrendered to the idea well, frankly that to be NOT beautiful, to become attractive, or lacking in sex appeal  in my immediate and future future was an unavoidable destiny FACT. (OUCH!)  I had surrendered to the idea of being older and overweight ass unavoidable TRUTH.  Because I believed I was old and… well… I had no choice butt accept my big bottom as a reality knot to be untied.

Anyway, I made a lame attempt at defending myself, I told him, “I go to the gym,” and I said, “I eat healthy.”  My doctor LAUGHED at me.  He did.

“EVERYBODY always says that they work out or don’t eat so much but the fact is that gaining weight is a simple mathematical equation: too many calories and not enough movement to burn off the calorie count.”  He said.

NOW, he had my attention.  “Are you calling ME a cliche?”  I asked, outraged for an instant, wanting to get offended so I wouldn’t have to listen.  “YES!” he laughed.  Skinny, tall, and blond, my beautiful doctor said, I was indeed a, “Cliche.”  This made me angry, because ONE thing I pride myself on is on be myself, unique.  So… I said, “Do tell.”

Well, my doctor gave me two guide lines:

1. Cut every meal you get (in a restaurant ESPECIALLY) in half and eat only half, every time.

(Note: In my case, I eat the protein and avoid the starch.)  This shrinks your stomach, which is essential.)

2. Excursive at least one hour everyday.  YOU must do enough to sweat, then rinse it off.  This Rinse off, may seem obvious, but it is essential to your  health that you remove the toxins from your skin that your body excretes through exercise, daily.

Starting in November, I applied those two guidelines. I started by walking, then running or… sometimes… dancing.  Biking is also really important to me.  Now, I’m SKINNY ME: weighing less than I did a decade ago.  BRAVO!

I also changed the following:

I no longer drive everyday.  At least one day per week, I walk or bike EVERYWHERE. (This is ALSO good for the environment.)  This works especially well when going grocery shopping… carrying food home on a bikes, keeps it real what YOU buy.  Best of all NO frozen food.  I’ve never been a big fan of canned or frozen prepared, highly processed, foods.  I’ve always preferred ORGANIC fare and I know that this fact alone makes me healthier and more resilient than most.  NOW, I’m a little stricter about what I eat… but I eat real food: organic animal proteins, salads, fruits, veggies, dairy, and FOR ME: NO GLUTEN.  NONE.

Fast Food, has always been completely out-of-the question for me.  Butt, IF you are a driver-through bandit, you like your McD’s on the GO, or TACO Terror, or worse you eat any food that involves a person taking your order via a microphone and throwing a bunch of chemical sculptures of food into a box for you then you better STOP IT!  Because, just like smoking, some habits have no upswing and can only slow you down and make you ugly.

I cook.  More and more, my families meals are delicious and less expensive than eating at the Ritz, for kicks.  Anyway… IF you would like to discuss, this topic further… ask me a question either here, on the comments or on the Frau Kolb/Talkinggrid Facebook FAN PAGE!  Yeah… In the mean time: GET OUT there and MOVE.  EAT LESS.  EAT FRESH!  Enjoy LIFE!  Embrace FUN, laughter, good times are your pals when facing any challenge.  Don’t forget simple corny and gut wrenching JOY ass a remedy!  Cheers and BOTTOMS UP!

Love,

Frau

Jul 24, 2013, 6:00 PM