Hi, it’s me. Last week I attended my first conference since The Before Times, and let me tell you — it was exhausting to leave my house three days in a row with hard pants on. I’ve grown accustomed to leisurely early mornings, followed by a shower and a short commute to my office in the back of the house, wearing the same clothes I had on yesterday that I picked up off the floor by my bed. Then suddenly I was on the bus by 8am every day dressed in different clothes than the day before. Shock to my system!
One last thing… I want to ask you for money, but I’m not going to do it here. After the end of this story I make a case for “upgrading” to a paid subscription. “Upgrading” is in quotes because you’re not getting anything extra — my stories will still be free for everyone. But I do think you’ll find my argument for paid subscriptions compelling, so I hope you’ll stick around to find out why. Okay, that was the end of my awkward money talk (for now).
In the mid 2000s I was a big fan of the ABC series, Boston Legal. Every episode ended with Alan Shore and Denny Crane drinking cocktails and smoking cigars on their legal firm’s balcony. The two are best friends, and some of these conversations were quite intimate. In Season 5, the onset of Denny Crane’s dementia – which he codenames Mad Cow Disease – is becoming more noticeable to others. Over the course of a few episodes, Denny and Alan’s balcony conversations turn toward death and the after life.
From Season 5, episode 10 –
Denny: “Are there clothes in heaven? And are we as we were when we were young, or are we as we were when we died?”
Alan: “Is that important?”
D: “Well it is to me – I don’t want to go through the rest of eternity with the Mad Cow.”
A “I think you are in heaven as you were in the best of times here on earth.”
D: *whispers* “Like right now…”
A: “Like right now.”
D: *raising his glass to the sky* “Thank you.”
This scene hit me hard when I watched it back in 2008. Our beloved family dog had just died, my grief from Gordy’s death three years earlier was still fresh, and my mom was already showing early signs of dementia. By the time the credits rolled, I was in full Ugly Cry mode.
My mom and Gordy’s relationship was solid — they were mushy-in-love types. I grew up watching him slide up behind my mom in the kitchen to plant a kiss on her cheek or wrap her in a big bear hug. They were affectionate. When Gordy died after twenty-something years of marriage, my mom became obsessed with whether or not he was able to see her from heaven and watch over her. They were both lifelong devout Christians, and in his illness they found peace in the belief that Gordy would soon be in heaven with Jesus. But in the couple weeks I stayed with her after the funeral, she kept wondering if Gordy was too busy basking in the glow of Jesus’ presence to pay attention to her. Did he care about her anymore? Could he see her? Did he miss her? If she talked to him did he hear her?
I didn’t know the answers to these questions and didn’t know how to respond. I was a Christian and believed in heaven as my mom did, but until this moment the specifics of heaven and how it worked didn’t really matter to me. I’ve always been a staunch realist – a trait that benefits me in problem solving but sometimes blocks my sense of imagination and wonder. In this situation my realism defaulted to searching for theological facts about heaven. What did the Bible say on this matter? I finally called my pastor for advice. After I explained my mom’s concerns and wondered how to respond theologically, he graciously and wisely suggested it didn’t matter. She wanted comfort, he said, not theology. She missed him and wanted to feel close to him - just go with that, he said.
Realism doesn’t save us or heal our wounds — we have to imagine our way back to wholeness.
But I’ve been thinking about this Boston Legal scene for another reason — for the excitement present in Denny’s voice as he whispered, “Like right now!” His meaning felt both present and timeless, as if just by living, he was experiencing the best of times regardless of the day or his age.
In the episode following this one, Alan and Denny’s balcony conversation once again circles around dying and the seriousness of Denny’s failing mind. A plot point in the storyline is that Denny is trying to gain access to a drug that is not yet approved by the FDA but is thought to delay the effects of Alzheimers. He wants this drug and will do anything to get it.
“And even if I fail,” he says, “they say if you keep getting excited about life, the blood rushes to your brain better!” [long pause] “I love life, Alan, even if it kills me.”
My mom loved life, and I imagine that she always felt like she experienced the best of times. She had love, a strong community, and hope in her eternal future. Bryan loves life, too, and whenever I get into my Eeyore “Yeah, but…” mood, he reminds me that we’re experiencing the best of times and we have much to be thankful for. I love him for that. I started keeping a thankfulness log in my journal, documenting at least one thing every day that I’m thankful for. As I get older and the arthritis in my knees slows me down long before I thought I’d experience physical limitations (51 is still so young!!), I need the daily reminder to keep getting excited about life, to keep the blood rushing to my brain.
Thanks for reading. Until next time,
Jen
Question of the Week
Getting into Denny Mode: When do you feel the most happy, content, or peaceful? What is an activity or circumstance that give you a good rush of blood to the brain?
News + Notes
Okay, so here’s where I awkwardly suggest you might be able to save the Internet if you become a paid subscriber to my newsletter. Here me out…
I think it’s probably safe for me to say that you might be tired of an algorithm deciding what you see on the internet. This is the general feeling I get from people I know online and in real life, especially creators I know on Instagram who continually fight the battle to be seen. My husband, Bryan, was on a podcast last year and spoke about “the aggression algorithm” that rewards extreme and shocking content, continually giving us a dopamine hit, dividing our country, and making money off conflict.
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Thank you for reading this far — I appreciate you. If you want to dive in to this topic a little more, Substack put out a couple good posts HERE and HERE.
> When do you feel the most happy, content, or peaceful?
> What is an activity or circumstance that give you a good rush of blood to the brain?
In all the mental health work I've done this year I relearned (or more accurately am still relearning) how peace is in the body more than in the mind. Anxiety is too. We use our brains and egos too much. So it has been meditation for me that has been the activity I think of first for a question like this - of relearning how to get out of my head and just be. Although it's not a rush exacty :)
My more conventional answer is basketball - or any physical thing that I can go at intensely where I'm in my body and very active - lets me get out of my head too. My higher brain shuts off and I forget about everything. After playing basketball it feels like waking up - like oh right, I have a home. A car. Things to do. Coming out of meditation feels like that too.
Good conversation with good friends is always powerful for me - it's like being home, but not a physical place, a mental/emotional one.
HI Jen,
This is good! And I agree with you. You are a writer (and a good one at that). As soon as I get through my present financial difficulties (God willing) I will go paid. Keep up the good work! I don't even know how I got to your page. I was in the writer office hours. Did you comment there or something? Of course, your interesting name may have pulled me in. I thought I was going to be reading about a meditating moonshiner (Zen Jug). Listen, I am trying to get a handle around the "recommendations" thing in substack. You? Check it out and then check out my substack and maybe we can help each other.