Family

Love and Hate

DownloadStill struggling with integrating disparate worlds. The Pittsburgh synagogue murders break my heart. I cry whenever I read about it. I hadn't even finished reading about the bombs sent to 14 people before this slaughter happened.

Our country is in deep trouble. Every day it gets worse. 

And then there's my family. Last weekend we spent my son's 30th birthday in upstate New York. My husband and me, our daughter, our son and his wife. I wanted to freeze frame just about every minute - the hikes (all of us in ridiculous matching bright orange wool caps, which I insisted we wear because it's deer hunting season), the laughter, the games, the meals, listening to my daughter and my daughter-in-law compare notes on political canvassing, watching the tender relationship between my son and his wife, watching my husband quietly take care of stoking the fire to keep us warm....

Sheesh - I'm teaching tonight at the place-that-shall-not-be-named, and I was going to focus on run-on sentences. Doctor, heal thyself.

Anyway, I know I am privileged to be able to put some distance between my family and the political nightmare that is our country. Many people, especially those living in war ravaged countries, cannot. And yes, most of us are doing what we can to repair this broken, broken world.

But I'm scared. And you can only hide out in the mountains for so long.

 

 


Full Circle

Sometimes role reversal can be very sweet. Images

My husband and I both spend a lot of time caring for aging parents. (Sorry, Mom, but you are 94, albeit an incredibly feisty and competent 94.) These last few weeks have been particularly difficult for my husband, whose father is very ill.

As of yesterday morning we were still on the fence about visiting our daughter, who has moved to Seattle. But we went ahead and flew across country, knowing that at any moment we might have to return. 

Last night, jet-lagged and emotionally worn out, we sat at on my daughter's couch. She'd put out snacks and was cooking us an early dinner because she knew we'd be tired. The guest room in her apartment was both immaculate and cozy. 

She sent us to bed right after dinner; she and her boyfriend cleaned the kitchen and took care of everything else, including setting up the coffee for the next morning, should we rise on east coast time. 

It's hard to describe how amazing it feels to be taken care of my our daughter. But in a word: wonderful.


Missing You

Images-1I miss everyone I lost last year.

Yesterday, I was longing to tell my friend Missy about a dream I had. She'd have listened, snorted, and then come up with some completely irreverent interpretation that would make me laugh. There are so many things I need to tell her. 

I also really need to talk to my Dad. I have some questions about the Adirondacks that only he can answer. Mostly I want to look into his brown eyes, pat his leg and tell him how much I love him. 

Also,  I keep coming across pictures of my little brother and me. We are often touching - holding hands, or he is hanging off of my arm. With Bill, I want to warn him and protect him from the life he would lead. I want to go back in time, not just to before his death, but back to when we were 12 and 6 respectively, when he was a pale, tow-headed, chubby kid with no shadow of the terrible things to come and I was his alternately annoyed and affectionate big sister.