The scent of heaven

I have the good fortune of living in a part of the world that is filled with perfume at this time of year. It comes from the blossoms on orange trees. The trees that are typically quite shiny with their dark leaves, now look as though snow has dusted over them. They are covered in white blossoms, the fragrance of which is sweeter and more delightful than any other pleasant scent I have found in nature.

My daily commute takes me down several roads that are lined on either side with orange groves. Since the trees have begun to bloom, I have made it a practice to open my windows and inhale deeply as I slowly drive through. I'm sure that some people who are driving in the opposite direction think I've lost my mind--my head hanging out of the car window, me looking like a goldfish, breathing in with an exaggerated movement of my head. But there is no other way to savor this wonderful aroma.

As I've gone through these groves, the wind blowing through the car (and my hair being blown to bits), I've often wondered whether heaven smells like this. All of heaven, not just the little pockets of good smells, but the entire place. And maybe I won't have to work so hard to get to the scent: opening all the windows, trying to catch a waft of air, etc. Yes, in heaven I think that everything is perfect: looks good, sounds good, smells good. So in my book, orange blossoms are part of the picture. I surely hope so.

Only a God could create something so exquisite.

News Flash!

For the record, Astrid and Phil announced their engagement the day after his wife's service. They have set the date for May.
Next month.
Oh my.

Scandal

Found here

Mother called me tonight to tell me a salacious tale involving some of her acquaintances. Phil (we'll call him that) just had a funeral for his second wife who passed away a week or so ago. It was quite a loss, but she had been ill with Alzheimer's for a couple years and was there but really "not there." So the memorial service was yesterday evening.

Phyllis came up to my mother today and told her that she had overhead Phil speaking with Astrid (we'll call her this name), whom he has known for many years. This is how the conversation went:

Astrid: I'm so sorry about Faye (his wife) passing.
Phil: Yeah. It's been a long time coming. I don't know if I can go through something like this again.
Astrid: I'm very sorry, my friend.
Phil: Thank you, Astrid. This has been hard and I'm ready to turn over a new leaf. But no one will have me now.
Astrid: Oh, don't say that! You will find someone else--you're a good catch and you have a lot going for you.
Phil: Well, I just don't know...
Astrid: You love life too much to crawl in a hole and pull it after you. You can be happy again.

Curtis, another of mother's friends said that he then overheard a marriage proposal of sorts. Phil proposed to Astrid on the evening of his deceased wife's memorial service. But Phil and Astrid don't know they were overheard and no one is mentioning it to either of them. But Mother, Curtis and Phyllis sat outside on the bench tonight, watching the sun go down, talking over all the juicy details of this news.

"Are you going to ask Astrid about this, Mother?"
"No." She laughs. "We're all going to just wait and see what happens. It could be that she turned him down."
"Well, don't you think that this is a rebound situation? Don't you think they should wait a few months?"
"They don't have lots of time to wait--they're in their late 80s."
"Oh." I feel dumb and alarmed all at the same time.
"I wonder what their kids would think about something like this?"
"They're both lonely, happy-go-lucky, and good friends. Why shouldn't they get married?"
"It seems rushed and inappropriate somehow."
"I think it's great and I can't wait to see what happens."

So everyone where Mother lives is walking on eggshells, not mentioning the elephant in the middle of the room: Phil and Astrid's romance. Hmmmm. I'll let you know when I hear something.

Snap, Crackle, Pop!

Sister Wendy Beckett found here

I was new in town and didn't have any friends yet. Michael, one of my new colleagues, whom I thought was rather a prig, invited me to go over to St. Mary of the Woods and meet Sister Marilyn. She was 87 years old and could out walk a mule, he said. We would have lunch with her and then she would show us the convent's art collection. It would be a lovely escape from the monotonous anonymity that I couldn't seem to shake.

Sister Marilyn was waiting for us at the door to the dining room. She welcomed us warmly and took us inside for a wonderful Sunday brunch. Honestly, I've never enjoyed a brunch more ever since. Everything delicious was laid out and people swarmed around white linen covered tables. We had a wonderful visit and terrific breakfast.

I quickly learned that Sister Marilyn was as deaf as a stone. Michael and I shouted above the din of the brunch crowd into her ear all through the meal. One nun was playing show tunes on an electric piano by the door. It was odd to see a nun in habit playing "Fish gotta swim and birds gotta fly, I'm gonna love that man till I die; can't stop loving that man of mine."

Sister Marilyn was pleasant enough, smiling and nodding even when she couldn't get everything we said. Would we like to get the tour? And so we were off across the grounds of the convent. We saw the Shell Chapel, the Hermitage made of straw bales, the graveyard of sleeping nuns from the early 1800s, and the stations of the cross bronze sculptures. It was a most impressive place and I was so happy to finally be in a spot that felt more like home than the flat, grassy area where I was living.

How about seeing the paintings now? We headed down one of the many long halls in the building. All along the walls were oil paintings of various sizes and different themes. We stepped up to the first painting--a vivid floral oil painting.

"This one was done by Sister Theresa Bernadette." Sister Marilyn leaned closer to eye the signature at the bottom of the painting. Pfffft!! A loud fart coming from Sister Marilyn almost made me jump. Michael and I both stepped back. His eyes were wide and he seemed to suddenly have something wrong with his pocket, as he was fumbling around with it.

Sister Marilyn didn't even pause, but plunged into an explanation of the brilliant paint colors used in this painting. Ktchppppptt! She exploded again. I suddenly realized that being so deaf, she couldn't hear herself. We shuffled on to the next picture, both Michael and I trying not to let on that we'd heard anything.

"You'll notice that the Madonna in this picture is much more active than how she is typically depicted." Pfoofph! "She has such a more youthful expression on her face than I've seen her have elsewhere." Plght! I didn't think I could contain myself, but that's how it went, all the way down the hall--cracks and pops punctuating her every comment. I don't know how she did it, but I thought I'd laugh myself silly if I could just get out of there.

Not once did I visit Sister Marilyn thereafter, but that she sounded off throughout our whole visit. I became quite adept at ignoring what I heard, but it always gave me a twinkle in my eye to think of this woman of God, full of hot air in this way.

It reminded me of Betty--a British friend who cannot bear impropriety. She had to have X-rays taken at the hospital so she called on her friend, Rita, another Brit, to help her. Rita worked in Volunteer Services and offered to take Betty around the hospital in a wheelchair.

Betty has real trouble with her back, so a wheelchair would be very helpful for her. In she plunked and off she went, propelled by Rita. Down the hall they went. But what's this? Rita, looking very dignified, was a walking percussion section, only she acted as though nothing was happening. When people in the hall heard a loud fart, they naturally, looked at Betty--the patient in the wheelchair. Betty was utterly scandalized.

The walk to radiology seemed to go on forever. They got into the elevator and there, with several other people standing inside that small space, Rita farted again, loudly. She looked unconcerned and maintained a stiff upper lip. Someone tittered, and Rita started talking to Betty about family members in the U.K. The doors to the elevator swung open and Rita rolled Betty, now apoplectic, out of the elevator and into the hall. Betty could not contain her outraged sense of proper conduct any longer.

"I say, Rita! You have a problem!" she whispered angrily.

Rita looked surprised. "Have I?"

Betty had a full head of steam now: "Yes, you need to get help for all that noise you're making--even in the elevator." She grimaced as Rita let out another popping sound as if in retort.

"My giddy aunt..." Betty stiffened. "You need help!"

Rita's lips went from a smile into a straight line. "Perhaps you'd rather walk to radiology."

Betty's eyebrows lifted at this suggestion. "Yes, perhaps I would." And she struggled up from the chair and without looking back, hurried away from Rita and the parting blast that echoed in the elevator foyer.

Betty was telling me about this one time and began laughing and wheezing. "The Lord has a sense of humor!" she choked out between gasps. "When I get to heaven I'm going to look for Rita and tell her that I understand and I'm so sorry I was cross with her! Now I can't help myself!" And right on cue, as if to prove her point, she let fly with a drum roll of her own.

"Oh!" she threw her head back on the couch, her mouth open in a silent howl of laughter, only a long quivering wheeze audible. "Terribly sorry!"

These are some of life's funniest little jokes ever.

Farewell

This very sad missive came to all of us at my job today. Our little community has been hit very hard. Please keep this family in your prayers. This makes us long for the Resurrection Morning, as I don't know how the parents of this family can endure the losses.


To all of our Loma Linda Colleagues:

On Sunday, March 22, a tragic plane crash in Montana abruptly ended the lives of six Loma Linda University alumni,
and seven of their children. The professional pilot of the plane also died in this accident. Our entire Loma Linda University
and Medical Center family joins in expressing our sincerest sympathy to the grieving relatives and other loved ones at this
time of unimaginable loss.

The deceased are:

Vanessa Feldkamp Pullen, School of Medicine (’98), husband Michael Pullen, School of Dentistry (’99), children Sydney (age 10) and Christopher (age 7)
Amy Feldkamp Jacobson, Dental Hygiene (’97), husband Erin Jacobson, School of Medicine (’00), children Taylor (age 4), Ava Grace (age 3), Jude (age 2)
Kristen Mautz Ching, School of Nursing (’00), husband Brent Ching, School of Dentistry (’98), children Hailey (age 5) and Caleb (age 4)

Words cannot express the sadness we feel for our colleagues who are family members and friends of those who lost their lives. Numbered among the many who now mourn are those who serve with us in our educational and health ministries:

Erin Jacobson was the brother of Paul Jacobson, our School of Medicine’s and LLUMC’s neuroradiologist. Erin was also and son of John Jacobson, former cardiac surgeon in the School of Medicine, and the nephew of Alan Jacobson, director of Research, VA Loma Linda Healthcare System.

Vanessa Feldkamp Pullen and Amy Feldkamp Jacobson were both sisters-in-law of Adrian Cotton, LLUMC’s hospitalist and a member of the Department of Medicine.

Brent Ching was the nephew of Victor Ching, Urologist, VA Loma Linda Healthcare System.

Our prayer is that our Lord will give us a special measure of his mercy as we share the deep sadness of this loss and as we
reach out in love to embrace those who are grieving.

Roger Hadley, MD
Dean Loma Linda University School of Medicine
Executive Vice President for Medical Affairs Loma Linda University Adventist Health Sciences Center

A lot has happened

Sam and I celebrated our 6th wedding anniversary yesterday. We thought that maybe we'd go up to Santa Barbara and spend an idyllic weekend on the beach. But an awful storm is coming in off the coast and we could have treacherous driving weather on the way home. So we stayed at home and slept in our own comfortable bed before going down to Palm Springs to roam around. This morning over breakfast we commented once again that we are shocked that it has already been six years, yet on the other hand we feel that we have been together forever, since we feel so comfortable together.
So today I thought I'd share some wedding photos with you so you can see how we started out. We got married during spring break of 2003 at Prospect Park in Redlands, California. There were only 10 of us present and that was just about right as far as I was concerned. I've always disliked the hoo-haw that goes on at weddings around candles, preludes and everyone wondering if the soprano can sing the high A at the end of "The Lord's Prayer," parading about with unnatural clothes on, and those ever-present cameras. Therefore, we just wore church clothes and stood on the side of a hill overlooking an orange grove in bloom that smelled wonderfully fragrant. Unfortunately, it smogged up for the occasion. The previous day we could see probably 50 miles clearly from that hill.
We were married by Will Alexander, whom I knew for over 20 years and who had just celebrated his 61st wedding anniversary the day before. There I stood, 10 weeks after major surgery, still puffy and very pale. My friend Bill, whose sense of propriety would not allow him to see me married without flowers, bought my bouquet and Sam's boutinierre. Sam told my mother that he was wearing a seersucker suit--for what reason, I don't know. It was a lightweight four season wool navy suit. I think he heard "seersucker" and assumed it referred to the cut of the suit, not realizing that mother conjured up images of him in a blue and white striped barbershop quartet outfit.
In the picture above you can see Sam's expression when Will sprung it on us that we'd be making up our own vows on the spot and that we'd start with Sam. I was quite obviously delighted at his discomfort.



Sam didn't even hesitate. He reflected most eloquently on the first time he saw me. He always comes through when it is time to make statements. He said that I was covered in light (I was actually standing under a ceiling light in the Indianapolis airport) and said something wonderful about how he would always see me full of light and love. I was so awestruck that he could have recited the Dow Jones averages and I wouldn't have caught on.
Now it was my turn.
Gulp...

My comments to Sam were comprised of unadulterated gibberish. I have no recollection whatever of what I said, and neither does he. I only saw his eyes and knew that I would forever be connected to this man. I kept thinking, Pay attention! You've waited years for this moment. Don't miss anything! I could hardly believe what I was doing after being single for 44 years, and I had real trouble staying present. I think I was subconsciously highly anxious, even though I didn't feel shaky or nervous and there were no burning questions in my (conscious) mind that I was doing the right thing.
It is interesting however, that I had awakened two mornings earlier at 3:30 a.m. in a panic. I woke him up immediately for the following exchange:

Sam!
What's wrong?
I can't marry you.
What?
We're too different.
What???
You don't like to talk and I'll live my life with someone who won't talk with me. I'm a therapist--I have to be able to talk.
Are you sure we need to talk about this now?
See?
Honey, what do you want to do?
I love you, but part of me wants to go right back to California.
Well, we can go back to California (A stifled guffaw from his direction).....Honey, we're in California now.
I wasn't amused and still felt panicky.
Sounding very sleepy, Sam said, We don't have to get married now. Do you want to wait?
Now he had my number. No. It's okay. But promise me that you'll always talk to me.
Okay. We can finish the conversation in the morning.
Are you sure? Do you understand what this means to me?
Yes.
Okay.
Okay?
Yeah. I love you.
Love you, too.

So when I sang to him at our wedding, I was more anxious, happy, startled, and fervent than I had ever been in my life:

I will give my love an apple without any core;
I will give my love a house without any door;
I will give my love a palace wherein he may be;
And he may unlock it without any key.

My head is the apple without any core;
My mind is the house without any door;
My heart is the palace wherein he may be;
And he may unlock it without any key.
(Traditional English Folk Song)

And that's what happened six years ago. We were surprised and delighted that the park gardener happened to be a former photographer for Olan Mills. He took this last photo for us, standing in front of one of the two Sequoia trees in the park. And so all 10 of us posed before we went to an Italian restaurant for our reception that Shelly generously organized and treated us to.
All I remember from the meal was the sparkling apple cider and the raspberry chocolate ganache cake for desert (no tasteless white cake for me!) And off we went into what is now six years.

We can hardly believe all the good things that this marriage has brought to us. Sometimes I almost want to pinch myself to see if it's me in this place. I would say that we are overwhelmingly happy together, even though there have been ups and downs, and for me, a rather long period of adjustment. But I think I'm settling into this thing finally. And I truly love Sam. We are ever so grateful that we have one another and have been so blessed.

It was a very, very happy day--six years ago, and yesterday too.

Attachment--Part IV

So here is something else interesting about our attachment styles: the way we grieve our losses depends in large part on the way we are attached. People with a secure attachment style feel sad, empty, desperately sad. And they are able to move on relatively soon.

For example, it is a sad thing to lose a relationship for anyone. But people with an anxious attachment style pine, agonize, and obsess about the loss for months or years. It doesn't feel possible to move on because their loss triggers that original relationship disruption that feels as if it will kill their souls. It is difficult to redirect such grieving people, as they become fixated on their loss and will tell it to anyone who will listen--for years afterward. It mirrors the primal sense of loss they may have experienced even at a preverbal stage.

People with avoidant attachment styles are those who are prone to shake themselves off and act as though the whole thing is an inconvenience--nothing more. They are so defended (guarded) against feeling vulnerability or pain that they will put up a wall and move ahead quickly to something else. People like this can either become loners--it's easier to be without someone to be attached to--or can move into high risk behaviors such as addictions, crime, or promiscuity (love 'em and leave 'em--except it isn't love, it's the Clint Eastwood or 007 type use of women).

People with secure attachment styles grieve--yes they do. But it is a "cleaner" grief--not tangled up with the original attachment issues. And they are able to achieve appropriate closure and move on in a reasonable time, and move on usually to another satisfying relationship in an appropriate amount of time.

Another interesting layer over the grief and attachment matrix is that of individual temperament. Feeling dominant people are able to identify more of their experience, and while this gives them a sense of control, it doesn't tell them how to move on or to obtain closure. They really waffle for awhile trying to do something other than ride the waves of their feelings. Consider this awful combination: an anxiously attached, feeling dominant individual in mid-life crisis. Oh dear...
Concrete thinkers can't figure out why they feel so lousy during grief and therefore don't feel that their grief is altogether valid. Grief for them is somewhat like running your tongue over the hole where a tooth used to be that was just extracted. They want to be told what steps to take to do grief "right," since they approach life in the most efficient and correct way possible. An avoidant thinking-dominant, concrete thinker would be a real therapy challenge.

The action-oriented individual wants to go out and hike the Appalachian trail or take up sky diving. If they can offset their sadness with strenuous activity or the adrenaline rush of a high risk hobby, they will do it. The sadness will remain with them for awhile, but they will forget how painful it is since they are consumed with thrill-seeking. Let's hope this individual is securely attached. However, many are not. An avoidant, action-oriented person will, with a determined glint in the eye, decide to do an extreme sport or some kind of criminal activity that calls for a "no-heart" attitude. The anxiously attached person in this category will be weepy but will still stay involved in high risk behavior, the proverbial guy in a bar, crying into his beer after everyone has stopped playing pool, etc.

The thought-dominant, abstract thinking individual presents problems that many people don't know how to address. Caught up in her obsessive thoughts, she feels blindsided by the flood of feelings--all of which feel irrational and make that individual feel quite out of control. Many such people are fearful of feelings because they can't connect the feeling in the moment to what is happening. Therefore, many of these individuals don't think that either their response is abnormal and chastise themselves, or they begin reading so they can mechanically confront their experience from a logical, rational, cognitive manner. This is not the person who will allow himself to cry unless it makes sense where the sadness is coming from at that moment, and whether he thinks it will do any good in the long run for him to be crying. Because feelings are such a problem to thought-dominant, abstract thinking people, they can feel crazy in grief whether their attachment style is secure or anxious. They actually feel better if they are avoidant, but over the long haul they struggle to reconcile what has happened to them experientially with their cognitive perspective of the grief event.

Well, there you have it.
In the words of Forest Gump, "That's all I have to say about that."

Attachment--Part III

We become attached to God in ways sometimes similar to the way we attach to human beings. Some interesting research exists about God attachment. Kirkpatrick and Shaver (1992) took 213 individuals, mean age of 40, and administered the Attachment Inventory, a standardized instrument, to see what their style of attachment was. Then they asked them questions that would get at their attachment attitudes and styles toward God. They found that individuals who have a secure attachment style viewed God as less punitive, more loving, less distant, and were the most committed to their faith. People with more avoidant attachment styles were more likely to be agnostics, and those with anxious styles were more likely to be charismatic and speak in tongues.
People with a secure attachment considered the opposite of love to be hate. For people who are anxiously or avoidantly attached, the opposite of love is indifference, thus reflecting their deep desire to be attached.
Individuals with a poor attachment style with their mothers were significantly more distant and anxiously or avoidantly attached to God. Individuals who had a secure attachment to God, however, reported less anxiety, depression, physical illness and greater life satisfaction.
I have an article clipping that I cut out of a magazine years ago called "Prayer as a Rorschach." The Rorschach Inkblot test is one in which an individual is shown a blot of ink on a page and asked to describe what it is. The idea is that we project our own experience, ideas, and attitudes onto something ambiguous like an ill-defined blotch on a piece of paper. I was thinking about this article when I read about these attachment-to-God studies. We give away our attachment styles in our prayers. Have you ever stopped to listen to the language people use when they pray? Some beg God not to leave them, or to forgive them for unspeakable sins--there is fear of abandonment strung all through the prayer. Others speak to God as a revered Friend. Still others offer soul-less prayers that offer no hint of warmth or attachment. Have you listened to your own prayers? If you do, you will probably notice hints of your attachment style there.

Another study showed that a secure attachment to God (read, good theology here,) could sometimes compensate for poor attachments to humans for people with naturally insecure attachments. It reminds me of a client who once told me that her entire family climate changed once her father was converted to Christianity. He realized that his behavior was crude, mean, belittling to the others in his family, and that God did not approve of it. He amended his ways, even though he remained a crusty guy who did a lot of odd things to hide his feelings. And the family improved drastically. His marriage became better and his relationship with his young children was much warmer. He had become a more consistent and available attachment figure for them.

Does it happen this way all of the time? Does belief in a transcendent God fundamentally change who we are and how we relate? Unfortunately, not often. I'm not sure why. Some of us are left to battle with the templates we were given as children and cognitively realize that our subjective experience of God is colored by things that He did not do to us.

Perhaps more than anything, these posts on attachment styles remind me that we are each responsible for what we contribute to the attachment templates of the young ones in our lives: nephews, neices, grandchildren, our children and step-children. A beloved teacher who is consistent, warm, and loving to her students can be that one stable person in a child's life that can help them weather difficult family relationships. He or she can also be the person who becomes the model for secure attachment, whilst other, closer family relationships disintegrate. We do not fully appreciate the power of being present, constant, and warm to other people.

Attachment Part II

Because of the first studies on attachment by Bowlby, a scientist named Mary Ainsworth began studying how children responded when separated from their mothers. Children routinely cried, expressed concern, and were grateful to get back to their mothers--if they had secure attachment. She found that about 60% of children manifested secure attachment and 20% showed evidence of anxious and avoidant attachment styles respectively. Anxiously attached children continued to cry and behave as though their parent could be removed from them once again, even though there was no indication of this. Securely attached children cried or behaved in an annoyed manner, but quickly became responsive and confident in the presence of their parent. Avoidant children did not seem to be fazed by what had happened, and would continue to play with toys and ignore the mother, once returned to her.

The way we form attachments as little creatures often predicts the way we will attach ourselves to significant others. To review, the three basic types of attachment styles include:
1. Secure attachment. People with secure attachment styles felt love, confidence, and security in reference to their primary caregiver.
2. Anxious attachment. Those who develop an anxious attachment experience clinging behavior, intense monitoring of surroundings (for evidence of impending abandonment), are anxious and concerned about their relationship.
3. Avoidant attachment. Children with this attachment style appear to be unconcerned with abandonment or separation from their caregiver. They occupy themselves with something else and aren't bothered by being alone.

There are some interesting facts about the way these attachment styles influence our relationships and worldviews. In the 1980s, two researchers named Hazen and Shaver began examining how attachment styles impact romantic relationships in adulthood. In fact, their investigation showed that there was a high correlation between childhood and adult attachment styles. Those partners with a secure attachment felt confident that their partner would be available to them, loved them, and would "have their back" in any situation.
People with an insecure/anxious attachment style as children, later developed relationships in which, while they dearly loved their partner, worried that they would leave them, that they would not be responsive or interested in their concerns, and in which they felt insecure.

Avoidant individuals don't allow themselves to rely on others, do not allow anyone else in their hearts, and are less likely to maintain healthy, long-term relationships.

According to a group of researchers headed by Frazier (1997), we tend to select partners who confirm our experience with our original attachment figure. Securely attached individuals tend to turn to their partner for support and comfort when in pain, while avoidantly attached people withdraw or try to deal with issues on their own. Furthermore, they may appear to be defensive or cooly resistant to offered help. People from secure attachment backgrounds tend to be much more nurturing and supportive of their partners who turn to them for help. Anxiously attached individuals can easily make their partners feel suffocated because of their frequent attempts to ellicit care, affirmation, and loving responses from them.

Even though people with these three attachment styles present themselves differently, when asked to discuss how they would feel if they lost their partner, all had the same physiological responses. This means that their bodies indicated that there was equal distress across all three types of individuals. However, the avoidant individuals were able to suppress the expression of their feelings more effectively than the other two types and on the face of it, appeared not to be troubled by the thought of losing their partner.

Why think about attachment styles?
There are several reasons the topic is important. First, an understanding of attachment styles may shed light on how we each behave in our relationships. If you are clinging to your partner and have concerns about whether or not they love you (without sufficient evidence to support your fears), or if you wonder why you are restrained and invulnerable in your relationships, this may help to explain it. Second, not everything about us happens by our own will. We come into life and into relationships that are outside of our control. Thus, our template for behavior is cast at a young age and we are left to manage the outgrowth of it. Third, we each can do something about the kind of attachment style we have if it happens not to be a secure style. It takes time and is not simple, but it is not set in stone.
We in the United States love to state along with our country's mighty founders, that "all men are created equal." However, we are not all the same in what we bring to the table when it comes to relationships. At any given time, approximately 40% of partnered people are struggling with anxious or avoidant attachment issues.
The mantra of the ancient Greeks was, "Know Thyself." This slogan was emblazoned on the court of their temples. I don't think it is a bad slogan for us today. We all start at different places in life. Most people don't realize that there are these variations in people's tendencies, especially from very early years. They judge those who do not perform in relationships the way they think those people should. It is just not that simple.
It is not just our human relationships that are affected by our attachment style. I will talk more about this in Part III.

Attachment Part I

When babies are tiny, they rely on their parents for everything: physical needs, mental stimulation, emotional warmth, cleanliness, interactive modeling. Some babies have the luxury of having a consistent, attentive parent. These children are said to develop a secure attachment to their parents. They also are the most likely of any attachment type to have secure, long lasting relationships.

Sometimes a child's caretaker is "on" and sometimes they're "off" (absent somehow). So while the parent is present, the child's needs are met. The rest of the time they pine for their parent, wishful, tearful, and worried that they'll be abandoned and miss out on their parent's love forevermore. These children grow up to be people pleasers or clingy partners who frequently wonder whether or not they are truly loved or secure in the relationship.

Children whose parent doesn't seem to recognize their needs, or who doesn't give eye contact or attention, often form something called an avoidant attachment style. Perhaps the parent is an alcoholic or has a mental illness and can't give a child the attention she needs. But that little girl learns quickly that no matter what she does, she can't get her mother to connect to her. So she quits trying. The problem is that she assumes that she can't get anyone else's consistent attention either so she becomes a loner.

There are other reasons why children form certain attachment styles. A child can tend toward an anxious or avoidant attachment style if they have frequent hospitalizations that keeps them separated from their parent. This is through no fault of the parent--it is just how life happens. It can happen as a result of abuse, divorce, or other family disruption such as incarceration or service in the war. The child may have recalled happy, secure days. But the sudden change and emotional disorientation leads to an anxiety that is manifested in future relationships as fear that it will quickly change for the worst, too.

The kinds of attachments that we facilitate with our babies and young children become templates for how they relate to significant others as adults. It is a serious thing to have children and to raise them to set in place lifelong relational trends. God must really love parents and have mercy on those little ones who depend on them.