Category: Family

Let it be Said

Posted on by Pete Schloss

 

My parents loved each other, and they loved their children. Christine’s parents loved each other and their children. But early in our relationship we shared with each other that neither of us heard those words, “I love you…” spoken by our parents.

Perhaps the omissions were cultural or generational, but as we prepared to bring new lives into the world, we consciously inventoried the things we wished to model for our children from our childhoods. We also wanted to identify the things we wished not to pass along to them, and those things we wished to initiate as new traditions for our next generation.

Among those things we valued from our upbringings: A strong Work Ethic. Honesty. The Value of Education. Thrift.

Among those things we wished to focus on better presenting to our children: Inclusiveness. Kindness. Avoidance of Judgement. Giving and expecting Respect when earned. Giving praise for Accomplishment. Acknowledging Fault for a transgression and Giving Apology to those injured. Avoiding drawing Comparisons to another person. And expressing our Love and Affection openly.

It is gratifying to see our children raising their own children, our grandchildren, with the same conscious intention and values. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the expression of the simple words, “I love you”.

It is given as a greeting and expressed as a part of every farewell. It is never taken for granted, yet its omission would raise an eyebrow as being out of the ordinary. Unlike exchanges that have become social pro forma such as “It’s good to see you”, or “How are you?”, the “I love you” that we share has retained its character as a special gift between parent and child, grandparent and grandchild.

Leading up to my 50th birthday I resolved to offer that gift to each of my parents. Offering those words to them was difficult even though I loved them. With my mother it was at the end of one of our weekly phone calls, “I love you Mom” … quiet followed finally broken by, “I love you too, Peter!” Her surprise was palpable, as was her joy. From that day on every conversation between us included that expression of affection. She died in 2020.

With my Father it was not to be. Multiple Sclerosis had robbed him of his independence and the joy of life. His last years were spent in assisted living. When visiting him I would ask him how he was doing, his answer invariable was, “Just waiting…” It wasn’t necessarily to ask what he was waiting for.

I did take the plunge. “Dad, I love you”. To which he replied, “Oh well…” then trailed off to silence. I had to (and did) smile. It was affection given in the manner that he could express. This exchange was repeated at each visit thereafter to the time of his passing in 2009.

What was most important was that I was finally able to speak those words to him in the living years:

 Every generation blames the one before. And all of their frustrations come beating on your door. I know that I’m a prisoner to all my father held so dear. I know that I’m a hostage to all his hopes and fears. I just wish I could have told him in the living years.

Crumpled bits of paper filled with imperfect thought. Stilted conversations, I’m afraid that’s all we’ve got.

You say you just don’t see it, he says it’s perfect sense. You just can’t get agreement in this present tense. We all talk a different language, talking in defense.

Say it loud, say it clear, you can listen as well as you hear. It’s too late when we die to admit we don’t see eye to eye.

So we open up a quarrel between the present and the past. We only sacrifice the future, it’s the bitterness that lasts. So don’t yield to the fortunes you sometimes see as fate. It may have a new perspective on a different day. And if you don’t give up, and don’t give in you may just be okay.

Say it loud, say it clear, you can listen as well as you hear. It’s too late when we die to admit we don’t see eye to eye.

I wasn’t there that morning when my father passed away. I didn’t get to tell him all the things I had to say. I think I caught his spirit later that same year, I’m sure I heard his echo in my baby’s newborn tears. I just wish I could have told him in the living years.

(“The Living Years“, was written by B. A. Robertson and Mike Rutherford. Recorded in 1988 by Rutherford’s rock band Mike + The Mechanics.)

Peace Everyone. Pete

PS. My son Peter and I practiced law together for seven years until my retirement. It is an incredible honor to be a colleague with one’s child, to see them every day as an accomplished professional. Christine also cherished this experience but with our daughter, Renee. It was common for Peter and me to wish the other well upon leaving the office. Those exchanges included a hug and “Love you…”. Often as not this happened in the waiting room with clients present.

Peter once shared with me that the day I told him that I was retiring was one of the saddest days of his life.

Night Vision

Posted on by Pete Schloss

 

They were three, each in their own world but sharing one thing in common. One was a sailor on night watch, peering into the blackness and barely able to discern the line between the horizon and sky. One a hunter who stumbled his way into the depth of the night woods hoping to greet day and his quarry for the season at sunrise. And finally, the third, a chronically sleep deprived romantic. She turned her eyes skyward not to find the familiar but to embrace the uncommon.

The night, moonless. Colors were extinct having lost the battle at evening dusk to the deepening shades of grey. Pinpoints of light as are the stars gave orientation to up but little more for the senses. Evolution had given their six eyes the gift of seeing color, now useless in the darkness. But their species had for untold primeval generations learned a trick, look slightly to the side and the eye may see what is invisible if looked upon directly.

Each shifted their gaze to make out the otherwise invisible. The mariner a hidden hazard to his safe passage, the huntsman his responding to the sound of a snapped twig, and the insomniac to find what might lie deeper in the celestial infinity. Each was rewarded by the “trick” of night vision…

At discharge my surgeon issued restrictions which would bind me for many months to come. No bending, no twisting, and absolutely no lifting. “I know you have been a very active person, but for the next 9 to 12 months you must live a very boring life. Your future long-term mobility and freedom from pain depend on it. I’ve done my part, now it’s your turn.”

Post surgical pain made following his orders easy, for the first week. As that ache subsided, I had to become active in the pursuit of my inactivity. A mind accustomed to the rapid pace of physical activity had to adjust, to fill in the void of idleness with a different awareness, not of things clearly “seen head on”, but of those things usually camouflaged by the “noise” of coming, going and doing. This was an exercise of night vision for the mind.

I wrote last week of the odd circumstances which led to my purchase of an unusual ship’s clock and barometer. I won’t recount that here other than to acknowledge my tongue-in-cheek suggestion that my deceased Mother might have been involved. Idleness and deeper contemplation have caused me to slightly withdraw my tongue from my cheek.

This week in that place between sleep and awake I found myself thinking about an unfortunate email exchange that occurred nearly 2 months ago. There had been silence between us since. At 5 a.m. I reached for my cellphone on the nightstand to again read my contribution to the misunderstanding. On my phone was an email received in my inbox not more than 5 minutes earlier. It was from the other party. Apologies and a welcome exchange followed.

The next day a similar scenario played out. In deep thought I wondered aloud to Christine about a friend I had not heard from since before Summer. I had barely finished my thought to her when, a “ding” announced the receipt of a text message… from my friend suggesting we get together for lunch.

7 years ago in San Juan, Puerto Rico, an innkeeper, Eddie, upon becoming aware of an unusual (fortunate) set of circumstances involving me and Christine, said, “Peter, in life there are no coincidences.” I have held those words close to my heart ever since.

There are things within our experience that are apparent yet remain unexplainable. Magnetism and gravity immediately come to mind. We do not dismiss them as “coincidences”. The three recent personal examples I have mentioned above could easily be relegated to the dustbin of “coincidence”, but they happened, and they were real in my experience. Reflecting on my life, similar events are neither rare nor unusual. Just because they are beyond my understanding does not mean that they deserve to be called “coincidence”.

My purpose in sharing these thoughts is not to convince you that they happen in my life, I know that they do. My intention is to give you pause to reflect and meditate upon your own life. Use your mental “night vision” to look slightly to the side and avoid the glare of everyday life. Look instead at what that glare may have hidden from you and come to appreciate that life is full of tiny miracles. They have always been there and will always be there. They do their part; it is just up to us to notice them.

Restore in your life the gifts of wonder and awe that were once yours as a child, “…in life there are no coincidences.”
Peace Everyone. Pete

PS. Yesterday Christine and I were enjoying the sun and fine weather on the patio of a local coffee shop. She and I shared a “whatever happened to…” moment. I reached for my cell phone and did a quick internet search. Christine saw my eyes grow large. Concerned, she asked what I saw.

31 years ago, I was involved in one of the saddest cases of my legal career. A mother, my client, was gunned down and murdered by her teenage son. This was done at the urging and contrivance of her abusive husband, his father. Both the father and the son were convicted and sentenced for the murder. An 11-year-old daughter was left an orphan. On my cell phone the search revealed a link to a 30-minute podcast about those events. The podcast was produced 3 years ago. After listening to the podcast, I downloaded the transcript. Here is the concluding dialogue:

Marie: …So, the kind-of forgotten person in this story is C___. I don’t feel that her brother and father consider her needs or future at all in their plans.

Sherry: No.

Marie: But after they murdered her mother, C___ was placed with some foster parents. And after the appropriate period of time, she was adopted by those foster parents. And it seems like she finally had the kind of family her mother always dreamt of giving her.

Sherry: That makes me really happy, because I know her mother worked hard to let her have a nice life. I’m just sad that her mother was never able to figure out how to be the one to give that to her.

Marie: Yeah. I wish her mother had survived and was able to be there with her. But C___ grew up, got married, and now she has a little boy of her own. She has kept in touch with that man who so many years ago helped liberate her and her mother from a domestic nightmare, just by listening and taking their stories seriously.

Sherry: Attorney Schloss?

Marie: You’re right!

Sherry: I’m so impressed!

Marie: Yeah. I’m really…I’m proud of him for keeping an eye on this little girl.

Sherry: I am, too.

Marie: So, after her mother was murdered, he stayed in the picture; both as her attorney and her friend.

Sherry: Nice.

Marie: He’s fought several fights on her behalf. And he just kept showing up – clear through her wedding day and beyond.

Sherry: Ohhh.

Marie: Yeah.

Sherry: That gives me chills.

Marie: I think it’s great that she had a paternal figure in her life who was more protective and kind. P___ (the mother) had once voiced her dream to Attorney Schloss. She wanted her daughter to live a life free from violence. And Attorney Schloss has remained in the picture, fighting for C___’s right to do just that.

Shery: I love that.

Marie: Me, too.

(musical interlude)

 

There Is Just No Time

Posted on by Pete Schloss

 

Out of time. In time. Time out. Timely. Down time. Borrowed time. Next time. High time. It’s about time. Pressed for time. Big time. Small time. Test of time. Ahead of one’s time. Nick of time. Good time. Devil of a time. All in good time. Only a matter of time. Time flies…

That is just a score of phrases involving “time”. I don’t have “time to consider” more, but you may choose to “find the time”.

I have a fascination with timekeeping devices, otherwise known as clocks. Not the modern quartz movements, but the classic mechanical ones. They are (somewhat) understandable to me, although some are remarkable for their age and complexity.

This astronomical clock, located in Prague, The Czech Republic, was installed in 1410. It is the third oldest of its kind and oldest one still in operation. Images from Wikipedia

I find the design and gear mechanisms elegant and fascinating. To me they reach into the past and have more in common with ancient human efforts to measure time through devices that marked the passage of a shadow, dripped water, burned candles, and allowed sand in an enclosed glass vessel to fall through a small orifice.

In my home is a classic Howard Miller Schoolhouse clock.

Its Westminster chime sounds every quarter hour. We have owned it since early in our marriage. It is “key wound”, in other words once a week I use a key to wind the mainspring that feeds power to a pendulum at a steady, measured rate. The length of the pendulum is adjusted by turning a small screw at the pendulum’s base. Lengthening the arm slows the clock’s “pulse”, shortening the arm speeds it up. Once the pendulum length is accurately set the clock “keeps time” to about a minute per-week. However, the change in house temperature between summer and winter is enough to expand or contract the pendulum and require readjustment.

I also have a minimalist German “Hermle Castle Clock”.

It sounds a single bell at the top of each hour. It too is “regulated” by a pendulum. However, the power to keep it going through the week is provided by the downward pull of a weight. Once each week I pull a chain which returns to weight to the top. You might say that it is gravity powered, and gravity (for timekeeping purposes) is a better constant than a spring. Again, it’s accuracy is dependent on the adjustment of its pendulum.

Finally, I have two key wound clocks that don’t have pendulums. Both were found at estate sales.

“Time out” for a thematic detour:

Christine likes estate sales, I don’t. I consider them to be sad affairs where the things once valued by a departed loved one are sold at a steep discount, Memories Not Included.

One day Christine was heading to an estate sale just a few blocks from our house. “Is there anything you want me to look for?” After giving it some thought I replied “Yes, a classic key wind brass ship’s clock that keeps time and chimes the “watch bell” sequences.”

It really is something I had long wanted. My mother once bought me a small non-chiming version powered by a battery, along with a matching barometer. I treasure them because they were a gift from her, and it was what she could afford. Someday they will be memories not included.

Just before Christine left for the sale she pressed me to join her. “Come on. Keep me company and besides you have the time and aren’t doing anything else right now.” (“Have the time” is really my creative thematic addition)

Anyway, I was guilted into going. A short walk on a pleasant day and we were at a 100+ year old estate size home, more mansion than house. Upon entering, (and this is the honest to god no bull-sh** truth), the very first thing that I saw was, “a classic key wind brass ship’s clock that keeps time and chimes the “watch bell” sequences”. A $1,500 Dollar value (memories still not included) and it became mine for only $70. Is it just possible that my deceased mother, Pauline H. Schloss, who loved me dearly, was involved?

A week later Christine was heading off to another estate sale and showed me the online advertisement: “Isn’t this just like the ship’s clock you bought last week?” It was. Another “Schatz”, a German made devise, the twin to my ship’s clock but this one a matching barometer. Urging was unnecessary, I drove. I have since mounted them on a slab of olive wood.

They are displayed between the humble battery powered version and equally humble barometer gifted to me by my mother during her life. (Thanks for these new ones, Mom! I love you.)

Well, “it’s about time” I returned to topic:

In addition to the wonderful German “Schatz” ship’s clock and barometer, Christine has found a beautiful 40+ year old Howard Miller “Downing” key wind mantle clock.

It has a German “Hermle” movement and deep 8 tone selectable chimes, Westminster, St. Michael, or Whittington, which sound on the quarter hour. Another bargain.

The ship’s clock and mantle clock are the least accurate, but still good to within a few minutes a week. The mainsprings which power the movements have more stored energy (power) at the start of the week than at the end of the week. Thus, they tend to run fast at the beginning of the week and slow down by week’s end. Where the repeating arc of the pendulum in the other clocks “regulates” time through a simple “escapement” mechanism,

these two clocks rely upon more complicated “escapements”. An escapement is a mechanical device that allows the clocks power to “escape” at a measured constant rate. In the case of these pendulum clocks it is around 5,500 beats per hour. The key wind clocks use a more complicated escapement consisting of a balance wheel and spring. They beat at the rate of approximately 12,000 beats per hour.

I also have a few mechanical watches that are “automatic”.

They have a flywheel in the mechanism that moves with the wearer’s motion and keeps the watch mainspring wound.

They are very accurate, their escapements and balance wheels releasing very precise amounts of energy at the rate of 28,800 cycles (beats) per hour. They are able to maintain accuracy of around +- 5 second per day, which is remarkable given that the watches are constantly in motion on the wearer’s arm, and they are continuously subjected to changes of temperature and pressure. As accurate as these are, they pale in comparison to the precision of a modern quartz movement, the quartz crystal electrically “pulsing” 32,768 times each second. These are capable of daily accuracy measured in the hundreds of a second.

By the way, the most accurate “atomic clocks” are now able to gain or lose less than a second every billion years!

Timekeeping devices have become ubiquitous. There are “clocks: in our stoves, microwaves, kitchen timers, some bathroom exhaust fans, thermostats, home weather stations, autos, cameras, smart phones, tablets, and computers. The list goes on and on. Try counting all these devices in your home. You will not only be amazed, but you will continually find more that you missed first time around.

And it is all a fiction! They don’t work in my house, they don’t work in your house, they don’t work ANYWHERE!! They don’t measure time because “TIME DOES NOT EXIST”! What all of these devices purporting to measure time actually do is measure the change in the status of something, not “time”.

Assume that before the “Big Bang” there was an endless and infinite nothing. There was and could be no “time”. At least not until there was something to measure from. Once the “Bang” occurred there was a point at which an interval was created. Even though that moment occurred over 15 billion years ago, we “measure” it not in terms of “time”, but in terms of other intervals: The orbit of our planet around our sun is 1 year. The phases of our moon are loosely used to define a month. The spin of our planet defines a day… and we use smaller divisions of hours, minutes, and seconds to further define intervals. But all are created from an event or the change of status of some object. Even the super accurate “atomic clocks” don’t measure “time”, they measure the change of status of an atom or an isotope or the difference between two states of energy.

Well, I could go on but you have better “things to do with your time” and Christine says I’ve already “used enough time” on this post.

This has been brought to you by “too much time on my hands”. 
Peace Everyone. Pete

PS. A reading recommendation: Longitude by Dava Sobel is the true story of John Harrison, a carpenter and amateur clockmaker who in the 1700’s created the first chronometer, a clock accurate enough to calculate a ship’s position while at sea. The story of his monumental invention, the 18th Century equivalent of putting an astronaut on the moon, and the intrigue that followed reads like a spy novel. The book is well illustrated and less than 200 pages.

Below is a picture of my sextant, used to determine my boat’s position on the Atlantic Ocean when out of sight of land. It is only as accurate as the timekeeping devise used in conjunction with it. Consider it an “old world GPS”.

Written at Kansas City, Missouri, October 7, 2024.

 

Having THAT Discussion

Posted on by Pete Schloss

Surgery on my lower back is scheduled for this coming Monday. I expect to be on the table for at least 4 hours. A robot will be involved. I am no stranger to the surgeon’s knife having previously undergone surgery on right foot, left foot, right knee, both shoulders, and brain surgery in June of 2023. This is not a resume I wish to further develop.

I have come to think of surgery as analogous to taking one’s car to the dealership for a major repair. You entrust your car/body to the care of (hopefully!) an expert and skilled mechanic/surgeon, expecting to receive it back in proper working order. In each case there is usually sticker shock, “How could it cost THAT much?!!” One difference is that the car dealer often provides you with a loaner car. Maybe the day will come when surgeons provide a “loaner body”. For now, the anesthesiologist turns off your consciousness and puts it on the shelf awaiting instructions to reactivate you. Where do we go in the meantime? That is a question for poets, philosophers, and perhaps at one time Timothy Leary:

“Whenever in doubt, turn off your mind, relax, float downstream.”

I came upon another quote by Leary that has absolutely nothing to do with this essay, but that I feel compelled to share: “Women who seek to be equal with men lack ambition.”

Yesterday Christine and I had the “What If…” discussion. We have done so before the other surgeries, before the 4 times I sailed on a 45-foot sailboat over a thousand miles offshore in the Atlantic, and on other occasions that “what if…” became an uncomfortably real consideration.

There is the practical side to the talk: How to get into my computer, where passwords are stored, what bills are not on autopay, decisions to be made regarding investments, Social Security, and Medicare…

There is the “Last Wishes” part: Cremation not burial, a “celebration of life” not a funeral, Yes, beer-wine-liquor-music and fun, (renting banquet space at the Boulevard Brewery would work). No tears! Which special mementos to which child/grandchild…

…and then there is the important part: What Christine, my family, and you my friends have meant to me, what I wish for my children/grandchildren, and gratitude…

Whatever I endured in any past life, (again, a question for poets, philosophers, and perhaps Timothy Leary reincarnated) this life has been a reward. In looking back on the pages of my life I see that every chapter has been full of choices, decisions, and outcomes that turned out better than I had a right to expect.

I have every reason to believe that Monday, after the surgeon completes the repairs on my body and the anesthesiologist restores my consciousness, the physical healing will begin. However, if something doesn’t go as planned I want to make sure that everyone knows that I have lived a storied life, and I leave it with nothing but gratitude. For each of you I hold the wish that you Have Fun (because life should be fun), Do Good (as in your best and what is right), and Be Safe (for the sake of those who love you).

Peace Everyone. Pete

PS. From my earliest years I’ve been aware of the impermanence of life. Some might consider such thinking morbid. When I was in elementary school I was an avid reader of adventure fiction, both classics and contemporary. My “prayers” then included the wish that I not die until I finished the most recent book.

I am currently reading “A Trick of the Light” by Louise Penny. It is the sixth book in the Armand Gamache detective series and I hope to finish it before next Monday. However, I wanted to give a strong recommendation to this exceptional series of novels. The plot surprises, character development, and the presentation of the fictional Canadian village of “Three Pines” are superb. While each book centers upon solving a murder mystery, the various side plots are a study in human nature, love, loss, and so much more. I look forward to continuing the next volumes.

60+ years ago a very young Peter Schloss would have gone to bed saying, “God please let me finish this book before…”

Written at Kansas City, Missouri, September 23, 2024  

Original “tatting” (a form of lace-making) by my friend, Wendy Mejia, https://www.etsy.com/shop/WooWorks3

Grandalf the Wise

Posted on by Pete Schloss

 

Dear Christine, Renee, Friends and Followers.

My intention has been to take the posts and photographs of our journey in Spain and render them into a book to give to Britton. I don’t believe the book would be complete without some “Grandfatherly” advice:

Dear Britton.

It has been a little more than a week since we returned to Kansas City from Spain, and today was your first football practice. The rest of the team has been practicing while you were gone. You feared they would be mad at you for “skipping out”. Against your wishes, your mom made you go.

As we predicted, you were enthusiastically welcomed by your coaches and teammates. You also “kicked ass” at the team drills and sprints. After I learned of all this, I sent you a text, “Hey Mr. B. I understand you were greeted by your coach and team as the conquering hero returned from Spain! Congratulations… it’s what I predicted. Love, Grandpa.”

“Love you too. I didn’t think it would turn out like that.” was your reply. To which I then added, “With age comes wisdom!”

Finally, you exclaimed: “Okay Gandalf!!” and followed with a couple of smiley faces.

I will take this exchange as my license to speak to you as your very own “Grandalf”.

I don’t know whether you will be reading this at age 15, 25, 50 or beyond. I don’t know whether you will be sharing it with your child or grandchild. As I write this at age 72, I am mindful that these words and the telling in this book of our adventure together in Spain will long outlive me. I hope that the power of my advice does too.

You are an amazing person. Kind, thoughtful, caring, and so very capable of anything you put your mind to. (Here you must say “Thank you”. Remember, every compliment is a gift!) You also tend to be unsure of yourself, presuming others won’t think you are good enough, strong enough, smart enough… Britton, you ARE good enough, strong enough, smart enough! Do not let your insecurity become a self-fulfilling prophecy. BELIEVE IN YOURSELF!! I believe in you, your Grandmother believes in you, your Mom believes in you, as does anyone who knows you.

Britton, don’t be seduced into believing that adventure is what someone else experiences and then posts on social media. You are fresh back from a REAL adventure, not one made up for video courtesy of big financial sponsors and a huge support crew hidden in the background. It is also not your first adventure that I have witnessed: I watched with tears of pride as your Lacross team descend upon you at the end of the season’s final game. “Brick Wall Benscoter!” they called out… a team that had not won a game until you took the post of goalie in the last 5 games, winning 4 out of 5 of those matches! That’s a REAL adventure.

Opportunities present themselves, often when we least expect them. It is you who must recognize them and act upon them, seizing opportunity and creating your own adventures. I know this because it is how my life has played out.

Adventure is not only hair raising, adrenaline pumping, edge of your seat excitement. Adventure can be the challenge of doing well on a test, achieving a goal at work, getting recognition for a job well done, or even having an attractive “someone” agree to go out with you on a date.

Often, what you want is located on the other side of things you don’t like. You have spoken of several ambitions that you hold. Just as often you have mentioned some things that you don’t particularly like, such as reading, studying, and commitments to long term educational programs. To achieve your goals you will need to embrace and power through some of those things you don’t like. You may find that once you aggressively tackle what you don’t like, your success will bring with it a liking for that thing. This too is “adventure”, the adventure of discovering what you are capable of.

Over 30 years ago I decided that I would never leave unsaid what I considered the most important advice to my children. You have heard me speak these words countess times. I will repeat them here as my final offering to you:

Have Fun. Because life and your pursuit of it should be fun.

Do Good. (Two things) Do what is right, and Do your best.

and Be Safe for the sake of those who love you… as I do.

Peace Britton, Grandpa. (aka, Grandalf the Wise!)