looking at trees

as i stood taking this photograph of the old tree, the hospital was on my right down the road that was part of the hospital's old dairy farm. the cemetery is behind where i am standing. the winter day was misty with rain, the sky held its winter essence, and the trees stood as mighty giants that contain history and stories no one will ever know. i would like to imagine this tree being a place of solace for one of the patients, as they worked on the farm. those days of freedom on the hospital grounds are over. but the memory of the people who were there before shall not be forgotten.

Western State Hospital cemetery's unmarked graves are named,October 2009

"...a gray granite headstone was added to the grave of Mary Beran Hart, until now known only by a stone with the number "1300."

Hart lies in a cemetery with 3,200 other people, all patients of Western State Hospital between 1876 and 1953."
--

Nature's first green is gold,

Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leaf's a flower;

But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf.

So Eden sank to grief,

So dawn goes down to day.

Nothing gold can stay.

~Nothing gold can stay, Robert Frost
--

my daughter was in good spirits, today. she laughed a lot. we sat and ate popcorn and she drank a soda, and she said, "they treat me very nicely". she is getting more verbal again, and it was good to see her cheerful. these are not long conversations, that was one of the longest sentences...but we still have fun, she laughs, and rolls her eyes if someone is being funny.
---

addendum: Sunday jan 3 morning

my reaction to seeing the cemetery. it felt very sacred, and demanded respect. it is an all-encompassing sadness to imagine the people dying locked up in what was then called an "insane asyllum". it's grounding to see the buildings as they stand there now housing patients in 2010, knowing that ECT, lobotomy and insulin shock therapy once was the treatment. many of the graves are marked as death in 1934, that's the time insulin shock therapy was being used, and it's enough to make you wonder why so many died the same year (as in was it the treatment that killed them?) there is a dog park now spreading over 22 acres alongside the cemetery. the thought of anyone walking on this old dairy farm that used to be ran by patients of Western, made me want to stop and ask the people using the park if they know the history of where they stand. i feel a great responsibility to those who suffered at western, in a way that can only be described as deep compassion, and desire to make things better now, so many decades later. care is still so archaic, based on medications that are proving to be useless, if they worked, that place would be empty. and the medications are the only new treatment there since ECT, insulin shock and lobotomy. the fact that these people are slowly being given proper named grave markers is a start, but let me tell you it is a humbling and moving experience walking through the cemetery, past numbered pieces of cement...knowing that is a human being, who was locked away until they died. 3200 people, and that's just this cemetery. dignity comes with such a price. --

sunday evening, jan 3 thoughts ramble

the drive is long, 120 or so miles round trip, via 3 freeways, got there and thought about how enclosed i felt in that visiting room. am going to push hard this week for a walk outside, don't know how anyone can stand being locked up.

i talked to her about how there is a dog park across the street, how the grounds are nearly 300 acres, hell, give me a break they can find a staff to go outside with her. it's coming close to 5 months of a 2 hospital locked up setting, and it's time for it to be over with.

she said she told the "devil to get out" as she pointed toward the window, and i said, "good riddence huh?" "yeah who needs a guy like that anyway?" she said, with such casualty.

the soda machine jammed on my way into her ward.

i walked in and she hugged me with her arms all around me, so i kept walking with her hanging on me hugging me and laughed. i was pleased she came out of her room when she heard me ring "the door bell" (buzzer) to be let inside. i try to arrive at the same time daily, and knowing my daughter she watches the clock. that buzzer went off and there she was, i was glad because then i know she is paying attention, kind of tuned in to the world outside, important to do that.

then we went in the visiting room which is the size of a 6 person round table with a window outside and one to the ward floor, like a fish bowl.

on my way home i stopped at the grocery store, as i pulled into the parking lot i'm pretty sure everyone could hear 'magic man', by heart playing on the radio. sometimes, life just requires loud music to drown out other noise (worry, angst and all of that crap).

then went to the dog park at home, where muddy dogs play and make me laugh, and where i ground all of the junk away from my mind for a hour or two. the place is fenced in, and enclosed.

hell isn't life just all about boundaries.