Sometimes gifts are love

My general orientation with material things is "no, please, I don't want it." As I've mentioned, my condo is extremely small, and having grown up in clutter and chaos, space is the ultimate luxury.

But sometimes, even people like me make an exception.

They caught me

This is the collection of gifts I received from my family in South Korea via my children earlier this week, next to vases my father got me two decades ago, also from South Korea. Handkerchiefs, because I'm trying not to use disposable things. A pencil and pen case, because a writer has to write with something. A travel journal, almost too beautiful to write in (but watch me). A beautiful silken bag...to slip my large journal into. A crocheted flower pot, because I do love flowers (and needle arts). And a card from a cousin I wish I saw more of.

Perfect, but I'm not surprised.

Deb in the City

At least I'm getting things done...?

Oh wait, I remember I think that's kind of a hollow thing to brag about. In my defense, what I've been getting done has been the things I want to do...mostly.

A lot has happened since I last posted. My mother is now in assisted living. I got to see my new, extremely adorable niece. And yesterday I had the majority of the junk removed from the house my sister now lives in. That may seem like a short list, but those things required massive amounts of planning and effort, both logistical and emotional, and not a little bit of money (even if it wasn't even mostly mine). Thankfully, some of that money was spent on people who can lift heavy things for me, so there is that.

It's a big deal to get these things done, but I'm very happy to be returning to my old routine, at least in the ways I can. I don't feel good about the time that's been spent away from my children while I'm doing these things, especially because they're going to be leaving on a trip for a few weeks. But, I suppose, these are the problems of success.

I'm still transcribing, and still making some get out the vote phone calls, though not nearly as much/as many as before. But I'm confident I'll reach my clip again.

The only issue I'm having trouble negotiating is my community garden. I'm starting to feel that my continued participation might be a luxury I can no longer afford, which kills me. Fingers crossed that I'm wrong. 

Still in all, small or temporary prices to pay for doing the right things.

Deb in the City

And now a baby!

My newly married daughter, the oldest of my father's grandchildren, got to bask in the spotlight for exactly one week before she was upstaged by the littlest of her cousins, my youngest sister's brand new baby girl, born to her and her wife yesterday night a little after 10 PM. She's just a little bigger than my smallest twin--born almost twenty years ago (!)--and she looks sooo much like my sister. 

In this brave new world of ours, we were able to follow along with the progress of labor and delivery. That was great when we wanted frequent updates, but frustrating when we wished to be there to support the new parents. Still, it was precious to see the first pictures of my tiny, minutes old niece. 

This is not a normal period of time. Most months, and certainly most weeks, don't features weddings or births, much less both. Last year was pretty rough--enough said. But I'm grateful to the universe right now for the reminder that life really does go on.

Deb in the City

A wedding

This weekend my oldest daughter got married. If I can find one of the "detail" shots, I'll post that, but not of people. It was a small affair (as weddings go) that my daughter and her new husband (!) worked very hard on, and they were a beautiful couple.

My new son-in-law (!!!) had family members and friends, while my daughter had mostly family. This is actually fair: her three siblings and four cousins came, as did three out of four grandparents and four aunts, plus two uncles and a significant other. Oh yeah, and her parents. That is seriously about half the guest list. Both of them were surrounded by love.

It was a lovely affair, and the young couple was extremely thoughtful. But it also made me think that I'm probably over my fantasy about my "missed" wedding. No, I do not wish I wore a beautiful gown, and no, I do not wish I had had wedding cake. I have worn enough dresses and eaten enough cake. I'm good. So good, in fact, that I told my children, nieces, and nephew (and two single sisters) that the next wedding will be sneakers and jeans/sweatpants/yoga pants. That, plus the men will wear as much make up as the women.  

I'm very happy with my (?) new in-laws, particularly my son-in-law's mother (there are words for that role in Korean and Yiddish, but I don't think we've got one in English). I look forward to hanging out with all of them more.

Weddings are just the opening act. It is of course marriage that is the main event, and that's all part of a building block of family. The world is pretty frightening right now, but this event was a good reminder that good things are still possible.

Deb in the City

In real life

I had to dig deep for my 100 days of blogging experiment to *not* talk about the issue that has been weighing on me since September. There were, in fact, three or four posts that touched on the situation, but I had to unpublish them when things took a turn and I thought it would be prudent to not look too...human. 

Well, I guess now I can.

Long story short (that would be eight months into one paragraph): my mother broke her hip in early September, and my husband and I cared for my autistic, non-verbal adult sister for one month in their home nearby. It was not nearly as difficult as I always feared, but because I missed my own children, I didn't object when my mother wanted to come home. It was immediately evident that she wasn't able to care for herself, much less my sister, so, with two of my other sisters, we began pursuing guardianship. We tried to discuss it with my mother calmly, but it didn't matter. We began legal proceedings, and before my mother found out, she proved our point for us by nearly giving my sister medication that she doesn't need, which could have killed her. It was excruciating, but it was only a matter of time. The attorney my husband engaged did a fantastic job with a frustrating set of circumstances, and we were successful. 

Having spent most of my life being gaslit about my family, it was amazing to have a judge validate, um, reality. I didn't feel the proverbial weight lift off my shoulders, but I felt more optimistic than I have in a long time. Problems no longer required me to talk in circles; I still have a number of challenges I need to meet, but I now have the authority to meet them. And that is not nothing.

One of those challenges remains my mother. When she was served with legal notice, she was so angry with me that she made it clear she didn't want me to come to their home. When I did finally go back after the case had been settled, she told me how nice it was to see me. Based on conversations she's had with my sisters, I know she has no recollection of the matter, based on her manner with me as well as her conversations with one of my other sisters. And that is infuriating: a neurology nurse practitioner assessed her in November and could only come up with "mild cognitive impairment". I have no idea what the official definition of dementia is, but I do assume it includes forgetting conversations within minutes, and that's where we are now.

Where we are now, but not where we're going to stay. That is a promise.

Deb in the City

Going out with a bang (Day 100)

I'm going to do a wrap up sometime this week (but not tomorrow), but it's fitting that the last day of my experiment was so jam-packed. The universe wanted to make sure I had a lot of material for today, right?

Today was my son's last day of class, which was a critique of his work by grad students from a nearby university. I had two video calls today, and my husband suggested that I stay home, but since my son seemed like he could use the confidence boost, I came along. Plus... I wanted one final day to be in that part of Boston.

My husband and I walked into the hub of the state government area, and an hour later I phoned into the first phone call. I did try going inside a Fed Ex office, but I wanted more privacy, which, obviously, was more plentiful outside (no, really). I paced around a small pocket park for forty minutes but, miraculously, was able to stay connected through the call.

That done, we walked back through the North End to my son's school, and I got on the second call while my husband got some pizza and treats. This call was harder to stay connected to, either because there was more network traffic or because my Gs were exhausted (or a combination of the two); regardless, walking under any kind of awning was a recipe for disaster. So of course my turn came when my husband and I were within throwing distance of the school, and I had to stop in my tracks for five minutes in something of a chill. But, finally, that was done as well, and back we went to the school. I tried to stay connected for a few more minutes, but since I didn't want to blast my call--and I can't abide by any kind of ear- or headphone--I hopped off. 

My son was out a few minutes later, and he reported that he got a very good critique over all. Now off to the real event--the barbecue restaurant we had promised him for his last day of class. Home to change, then out again to get one of my nieces, then uptown to pick up my daughter at the library, then off to the restaurant. I obviously dreaded this choice initially, but the one thing they had on the menu that accommodated me was delicious. Who knew a barbecue place was going to do such a good job with a salad?

We dropped my niece off, then my husband and son picked up two cakes while my daughter and I waited in the car. We were just minding our own business, trying to listen to music, when she noticed a man in another car staring at her. I turned around, and when I caught the guy's eye, he smiled. I... smiled back, and even waved, and then miraculously he stopped staring. He also drove off a minute later. Thank god, too, because I was so sleep-deprived that I wouldn't have finessed a conversation with him, I would have just ordered him to stop staring at my poor daughter who's been subjected to this kind of thing since she was eleven. (She told me less than an hour later that a drama teacher once told her that she would make a great Bond girl--when she was fourteen. However we want to improve things, ending the sexualization of children is a must.)

Home now, and the teenager who very much wanted a cake to mark the day is asleep. Well, so it goes.

This was a very good day and very good way to end my 100 days.

Deb in the City

Drop off day (Day 8)

Today was the day that my youngest (no, he really is, by 13 minutes) left to go to the big state school two hours away from Boston. After spending the last week thinking through what he needed to pack--it's funny how much he thought was going to be supplied for him--we finally closed up the big suitcase this morning and loaded it into the backseat. His older brother--by 13 minutes--was going to come but decided the two hour ride would be too much, so it was just me, my husband, and our youngest.

My husband and I did not cry or get emotional, but it was probably clear that we were sad. Which was maybe part of why my son did not even want our help bringing his stuff into his new dorm. We did get a hug, though, so there's something.

We drove to a nearby restaurant to eat lunch (vegan and gluten-free, yay, but ridiculously over-priced, but why should they be different from every other restaurant?), then shivered in the car as we started looking for a charging station. (Fun fact: when you drive an electric car, you will lose mileage if you run the heat for too long. Not-so-fun fact: there are not enough chargers in Massachusetts.) Miraculously, we found one at a gas station rest stop (you know, the kind with the McDonald's) and sighed about the third child to fly the coop as we waited to get a respectable charge.

We are home now, enjoying the sounds of the final child at home. I swear to you, it seems like just yesterday that I brought two little bundles home to the hospital to meet their sisters. Now those sisters are gone, one nearby, the other a little bit further and engaged to be married in May. The one still at home is taking his very last class at community college this semester. He will most likely be home with us when he transfers for his Bachelor's, but it's only a matter of time before he's gone, too. 

I know, everything changes, and I appreciate that it would be horrible if they didn't. But I'm reminded today that sometimes it's useful to take a moment to appreciate things as they are, even if they are not perfect. And it doesn't hurt to be grateful when things are actually good.

Deb in the City

Sometimes the remedy is company (Day 5)

Yesterday I was out of sorts. My husband and I finally finished a book that was due back at the library. I enjoyed the story, but by the time we were done..."oh, look at the time." I didn't have any appointments that day, but I did have things to do, and even though it wasn't ten in the morning, I felt like the day had slipped away. I was also not feeling well, a combination of something I ate and cramps.

The logical thing to do--the productive thing to do--would have been to have squirreled away to the library or a cafe and squeezed out a little work. But I did something else--I went for a walk with my sons. Though, sadly, it didn't do much for my physical symptoms, I did feel better.

When they were younger, I was desperate for time to myself to get done all of those things I wanted to get done. Well, when they were younger, I did get them done, but I have wished more than once that I had spent more time with them less focused on what I wasn't doing and more interested in being with them. But that changed; at some point I went from feeling like a glorified babysitter and teacher to someone who counted her good fortune.

Several years ago--the Before Times--my husband had a school reunion to go to. There was some confusion about whether or not he should take me (he wasn't sure if his friends were bringing their wives, he wanted a last hurrah with his high school friends, whatever). By the time he came around to deciding that, no, I should come, I had already made alternate plans: the three youngest kids and I were going to see a movie. 

That sounds like a consolation prize, right? I got to take the kids to dinner and a movie while my husband got to hang out with his old friends, some he hadn't seen in decades, in some place far from home, eating food provided by the venue...Wait, on what planet does a night out with kids sound like the lesser option?

I remember that night really well: the kids and I walked to one of their favorite local pizza places, got pizza (although I think I couldn't at that point), walked to the train station, went downtown, got movie snacks at the semi-swanky grocery store, then saw a movie I'd been looking forward to for a few months. I had a lot of fun with my kids, and at no point did I wish I were with someone else or by myself.

Not sure how well my husband remembers his reunion with his friends, but I know he regrets not being able to share that night with me and the kids.

Scenes from our neighborhood

 Yesterday was not as eventful: we returned a library book, went to the same pizza place (sadly, their best days may be behind them...), got a drink at a cafe, then got eggs and crackers on a bodega on the way home. It was just another afternoon, and I am lucky that I can still share them with my children. I felt better--I felt lucky. Productivity be damned.

Deb in the City