It has been so long since I even really considered writing in this blog. I feel like no one will think to read it anymore but that's ok, this is kind of a test run anyway--I'm not sure it will stick, I'm going to try to slither back into it. Life has been too crazy to indulge in writing 'for fun'. It seems like we, as a family, have kind of hunkered down and hidden out for a lot of this year hoping to wait out the worst of the storm(s). There were some moments of emergence and some of victory--we haven't been lazy; on the contrary I think we've worked harder as an aggregate than we ever have. But it seemed more a matter of necessity than anything else, and the accomplishments have been hard-earned and not without bittersweet reminders of what was lost.
Lately, though, I've been thinking a lot about what we might have gained from all of this. Unexpected change brings inevitable turmoil, but the human response to turmoil is full of surprises, little miracles cloaked in necessity's clothing--the truth of the matter is, we don't have to do all, or any, of the things we do. Every action is the result of a decision; we are lucky enough, or cursed enough, to have that capability. I look back on this year and I realize how many people decided to do little amazing and wonderful things--unselfish, utterly helpful and supportive things. I often allow myself to feel like we live in a world of cold and unrelenting competition, that people are primarily self-interested and thrive off of others' failures. But when I think back on the past months, what comes to mind now is how many close friends and family have put in a lot of time and effort--hard work, really--simply to help each other succeed. People stepped up and came together in a truly amazing way. We are such a hodge podge, a real melting pot of step-, half-, in-law, sweetheart, 2nd/3rd, twice removed, old friend/new friend, and so on and so forth...many people defy category or title, really, but are nonetheless now part of the fabric of our survival and our success. I wish, so strongly sometimes, that some of the events leading to the creation of this fabric could be reversed; that the unexpected change leading to the turmoil leading to the decisions leading to the miracles could have been a little (or a lot) less terrifying, less life-altering...but even so, I would never want to un-weave what has so artfully been created because I have a sense that it will protect and sustain all of us in a very meaningful way for the rest of our lives.
So we continue to emerge, I think a little more confidently knowing that the fabric is there. Thanksgiving, to me, will be the true marker of how far we've come--together. To think that nearly a year ago we were all together and we had no idea what could be, what was possible--there was so much love but we were still kind of separate, timid, distant. There's no need for that now. We've been thrown in, woven together, and even though we still sometimes kind of want to kill each other I think we realize how truly lucky we are. I can't wait to be with everyone, to experience the culinary masterpieces of the more kitchen-oriented among us (ie, not me--another reason I dearly love and appreciate my family!), and to indulge in the warmth of togetherness and survival. We have a long way to go but I truly believe the foundation is there. We deserve a celebration.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
MY APOLOGY
I'm sorry for the indulgence of my last entry. Having a blog, it is so easy to want to spread the wealth of one's emotions among all friends and acquaintances--how convenient; one half-hour and a click and the unhappiness is effectively an epidemic!
It's not fair, I know. It is, however, what inevitably happens at 2 am in a hospital when you can't sleep and you (unfortunately) have access to a computer.
At any rate, things improve. I know this, we all know this, but in the heat of the moment it doesn't stop us from being alarmist, histrionic. At first I told myself it was the 'unexpected' that really killed me, but I think I know better now. To see a parent incapacitated, for any reason, at any time in life, is devastating. What's kind of funny is that I am only now realizing that I've known many people who have been in a similar situation. I just never really understood.
Anyway, for more detailed information you can go to:
http://www.stroke.org/site/PageServer?pagename=EFFECT
And read about Right-Hemisphere stroke. Most of the information is right on, as it relates to my mom.
It's not fair, I know. It is, however, what inevitably happens at 2 am in a hospital when you can't sleep and you (unfortunately) have access to a computer.
At any rate, things improve. I know this, we all know this, but in the heat of the moment it doesn't stop us from being alarmist, histrionic. At first I told myself it was the 'unexpected' that really killed me, but I think I know better now. To see a parent incapacitated, for any reason, at any time in life, is devastating. What's kind of funny is that I am only now realizing that I've known many people who have been in a similar situation. I just never really understood.
Anyway, for more detailed information you can go to:
http://www.stroke.org/site/PageServer?pagename=EFFECT
And read about Right-Hemisphere stroke. Most of the information is right on, as it relates to my mom.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
To write this is torture, but I can only hope it may bring some small amount of relief. Not that I could sleep, anyway. The ‘sleeping’ chairs, they’re about as comfortable as a mattress made of cardboard.
The force of the past weeks is enough to fell me. Everything, nothing. Everything, then nothing. The anticipation. The exhilaration. There was never anxiety or regret when it came to him, to us. We had only everything and we held it tightly, knowing how it would fly. And it did. The finest, most utterly defining and indefinite moments; the ones that sustain you, that lift and fulfill you. They flew, and then, with so little time for absorption or introspection, this inexplicably harsh transition, a sudden tumble, the fall. The lump in the throat, the loss of control. Disbelief, panic, shock. What ended, what began?
Life is happening at a rate and rhythm I can’t keep up with or comprehend. I have so little sense of place, of belonging. I am here, but I was here before for some entirely different reason that now seems bizarrely distant; and then I was there, and now I’m back; and he is there (which is just shitty, because I need him), and they are here. And she is here. And none of us are home.
How the entirety of one’s life concept disintegrates at the foot of one miniscule organic malfunction.
How the role of caregiver is passed and received, adopted and relinquished, because it must be, because there is no other way. Because the one who always filled that role so rightly and competently and completely is suddenly the one who needs care, and we all begin to struggle, out of necessity, in our little inadequate ways, to fill those shoes, to assume that part, to begin to attempt to repay what we suddenly realize is a lifetime of debt. It came so naturally to her. She is so good at it; she relished it and perhaps at times despised it; but it’s who she is.
Swallow, think. Stop thinking. Breathe. This sterile room full of light, sound, and doubt. And to think, two weeks following a house overflowing with light, sound, and joy. How to comprehend such contrasts? How could this possibly have happened? What do we do now? Who will take care of us?
The force of the past weeks is enough to fell me. Everything, nothing. Everything, then nothing. The anticipation. The exhilaration. There was never anxiety or regret when it came to him, to us. We had only everything and we held it tightly, knowing how it would fly. And it did. The finest, most utterly defining and indefinite moments; the ones that sustain you, that lift and fulfill you. They flew, and then, with so little time for absorption or introspection, this inexplicably harsh transition, a sudden tumble, the fall. The lump in the throat, the loss of control. Disbelief, panic, shock. What ended, what began?
Life is happening at a rate and rhythm I can’t keep up with or comprehend. I have so little sense of place, of belonging. I am here, but I was here before for some entirely different reason that now seems bizarrely distant; and then I was there, and now I’m back; and he is there (which is just shitty, because I need him), and they are here. And she is here. And none of us are home.
How the entirety of one’s life concept disintegrates at the foot of one miniscule organic malfunction.
How the role of caregiver is passed and received, adopted and relinquished, because it must be, because there is no other way. Because the one who always filled that role so rightly and competently and completely is suddenly the one who needs care, and we all begin to struggle, out of necessity, in our little inadequate ways, to fill those shoes, to assume that part, to begin to attempt to repay what we suddenly realize is a lifetime of debt. It came so naturally to her. She is so good at it; she relished it and perhaps at times despised it; but it’s who she is.
Swallow, think. Stop thinking. Breathe. This sterile room full of light, sound, and doubt. And to think, two weeks following a house overflowing with light, sound, and joy. How to comprehend such contrasts? How could this possibly have happened? What do we do now? Who will take care of us?
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Let it not snow...please?
I learned early on that mid-November in Wisconsin is the beginning of the snow season, AKA hell. We had some flurries last week, and then last night we had a real shower....nothing out of the ordinary, but when my friend left our house last night there was a definite layer of snow on her car. My heart literally hurt to see it, because it's very beautiful, and yet so utterly ominous.
It was gone by the morning. I was surprised that I felt a little disappointed. That's the thing about snow--to some degree, I absolutely love it, and I love the winter. If winter lasted two months here, maybe even three, I think I could stand it. But after having experienced the euphoria of 'the first snow' last year, I know that what last night really meant was the beginning of four, maybe five, months of freezing, muddy, icy miserableness. In that light, it doesn't seem quite so lovely.
To be fair, the next month will probably not be miserable. Pre-Christmas ice and snow is kind of sweet and charming, and breaking out the boots and parka is kind of fun--for a little while. It's seasonal. People expect it, even look forward to it. But after the joys of the holiday season fade, we begin to grow weary...and then by late January we're all pretty crabby...and by the end of February, we're just pissed off...and by mid-March we've pretty much lost our will to live.
I know I need to live in the moment, to have a less negative outlook. Maybe this winter won't be as bad as the last. Maybe my *3.5 week (WOOHOO!!)* southwest sojourn will revive me and break up the winter just enough to get me through.
I will try to enjoy the winter this year. That's my goal. But I can't guarantee that my next five posts will not be about how much I hate the Wisconsin climate. I mean, seriously--it was 95 in El Cajon today. 95!!! I'm a desert creature. I'm still not entirely sure I'm made for this place.
It was gone by the morning. I was surprised that I felt a little disappointed. That's the thing about snow--to some degree, I absolutely love it, and I love the winter. If winter lasted two months here, maybe even three, I think I could stand it. But after having experienced the euphoria of 'the first snow' last year, I know that what last night really meant was the beginning of four, maybe five, months of freezing, muddy, icy miserableness. In that light, it doesn't seem quite so lovely.
To be fair, the next month will probably not be miserable. Pre-Christmas ice and snow is kind of sweet and charming, and breaking out the boots and parka is kind of fun--for a little while. It's seasonal. People expect it, even look forward to it. But after the joys of the holiday season fade, we begin to grow weary...and then by late January we're all pretty crabby...and by the end of February, we're just pissed off...and by mid-March we've pretty much lost our will to live.
I know I need to live in the moment, to have a less negative outlook. Maybe this winter won't be as bad as the last. Maybe my *3.5 week (WOOHOO!!)* southwest sojourn will revive me and break up the winter just enough to get me through.
I will try to enjoy the winter this year. That's my goal. But I can't guarantee that my next five posts will not be about how much I hate the Wisconsin climate. I mean, seriously--it was 95 in El Cajon today. 95!!! I'm a desert creature. I'm still not entirely sure I'm made for this place.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
change?
Well, this country continues to move like a drunk turtle in its convoluted (and confounding) journey toward, presumably, equal opportunity and equal rights for all of its citizens. Last night was unspeakably glorious and yet quietly, bitterly tasteless; the glory, overall, masked the tastelessness, but I'm very, very sad that my home state contributed as much to the latter as to the former. It seems like Americans just always need someone to pick on. Sure, we will elect someone as President who is not lily white--and that's absolutely wonderful--but to compensate, we will literally strip another minority of their right to marry the person they love. It's beyond understanding, it's utterly wrong. The California Supreme Court upheld the legal right of all of its citizens to marry the person of their choosing, and then a bunch of self-righteous, ignorant people with, apparently, nothing better to do on the eve of a truly momentous election, ran a spiteful, wasteful, frighteningly well-organized multi-million dollar campaign that accomplished what? The hurt and humiliation of a minority that had finally been vindicated by their home state? I personally see no other outcome, though so many seem to be celebrating the fact that their version of marriage has been 'protected'--whatever that means.
I guess in some ways, it's not that surprising. A certain fraction of conservatives knew they were going to lose this election. And they didn't really care for John McCain, anyway, since he wasn't basing his entire campaign on achieving 'moral' victories for the religious right, as Bush did. So because he was going to lose, and because he wasn't going to push their moral agenda anyway, they had to find another way to bring bigotry back into this election.
Nation-wide, bigotry lost. I am so profoundly grateful. In January we will have a President who is intelligent, introspective, well-spoken, well-educated, and who utterly exemplifies whatever remains of our ever-touted American dream. Enough Americans finally managed to recognize that those qualities matter, and that race does not.
California, however, is losing so much of the progressiveness that once gave it its sparkle, and its power. In Florida and Arizona, it's equally disappointing but perhaps less critical, because the rest of this country looks to California as a harbinger of social change. I guess I just want to ask 52% of California voters why--honestly, why, how--they feel good about overturning the mandate of their state supreme court, a body that is there to help us legally uphold the constitution and the rights of all people, simply in order to bar their fellow citizens from their personal happiness?
I wish this whole entry could be about singing the praises of Barack Obama, and of our country, which did the right thing and voted him into office. It's hard to be 100% happy, though, because it means forgetting about a group of people who really got screwed yesterday, many of them people I am friends with, people I love and respect. We have made strides, but we have so far to go. I think overall, I'm glad to have time to recover from the stresses of this election. It's bittersweet, however, because here are Matt and I happily planning a wedding, looking forward to the joys and priveleges of a shared, married life, when others perfectly equal to us in love and dedication have just been told, yet again, that they aren't allowed to do the same.
I guess in some ways, it's not that surprising. A certain fraction of conservatives knew they were going to lose this election. And they didn't really care for John McCain, anyway, since he wasn't basing his entire campaign on achieving 'moral' victories for the religious right, as Bush did. So because he was going to lose, and because he wasn't going to push their moral agenda anyway, they had to find another way to bring bigotry back into this election.
Nation-wide, bigotry lost. I am so profoundly grateful. In January we will have a President who is intelligent, introspective, well-spoken, well-educated, and who utterly exemplifies whatever remains of our ever-touted American dream. Enough Americans finally managed to recognize that those qualities matter, and that race does not.
California, however, is losing so much of the progressiveness that once gave it its sparkle, and its power. In Florida and Arizona, it's equally disappointing but perhaps less critical, because the rest of this country looks to California as a harbinger of social change. I guess I just want to ask 52% of California voters why--honestly, why, how--they feel good about overturning the mandate of their state supreme court, a body that is there to help us legally uphold the constitution and the rights of all people, simply in order to bar their fellow citizens from their personal happiness?
I wish this whole entry could be about singing the praises of Barack Obama, and of our country, which did the right thing and voted him into office. It's hard to be 100% happy, though, because it means forgetting about a group of people who really got screwed yesterday, many of them people I am friends with, people I love and respect. We have made strides, but we have so far to go. I think overall, I'm glad to have time to recover from the stresses of this election. It's bittersweet, however, because here are Matt and I happily planning a wedding, looking forward to the joys and priveleges of a shared, married life, when others perfectly equal to us in love and dedication have just been told, yet again, that they aren't allowed to do the same.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Second annual weekend in Door County, Uncut and Uncensored!!!
Ok, don't get your hopes up, our weekend wasn't that exciting....it was more relaxing, and lovely. We got up there Thursday night, and commenced the touristing on Friday morning, which was great, because we had an extra day this time. We walked around 
Fish Creek with the dogs, who got an obscene amount of attention, unsurprisingly, and we ate sandwiches in Peninsula State Park. We then did some wine tasting at Stone's Throw Winery, which we've done before, and which is lots of fun. Bought a few bottles of wine, went home, and played with the dogs outside. The dogs had arguably the best weekend of their short, destructive lives. We had them outside at every opportunity--did a ton of ball-throwing for Charlie, and Vinny spent most of his time growling at other inhabitants of our condo complex or rolling in goose poop (classy, as always). Here are a couple videos of the dogs (and us) having fun:
We also watched the presidential debate, about which I will only make this one itty-bitty innocuous comment: gobama.
Then on Saturday, we took a 10 mile bike ride through Peninsula State Park, which was unequivocally gorgeous and perfect that particular day, and later on bought some souvenir jam and mustard and then ate delicious Italian food at home while watching more of John Adams. Our night was spent mostly indoors due to the weather, which brought light rain and at least a ten degree drop in temperature, but it was actually AWESOME because our condo had a fireplace--oh my god, I love fireplaces.
We were sad to leave today. It was so nice getting away, and once again, beautiful Door County succeeded in reviving us after a stressful couple of weeks. It's so nice to be reminded of the loveliness and diversity of Wisconsin--there's really a lot of wonderful things here, and it's awesome to be able to take advantage of them.
In closing, GO BREW CREW!!!! Our adopted team is going to the playoffs, and we couldn't be more excited.
Fish Creek with the dogs, who got an obscene amount of attention, unsurprisingly, and we ate sandwiches in Peninsula State Park. We then did some wine tasting at Stone's Throw Winery, which we've done before, and which is lots of fun. Bought a few bottles of wine, went home, and played with the dogs outside. The dogs had arguably the best weekend of their short, destructive lives. We had them outside at every opportunity--did a ton of ball-throwing for Charlie, and Vinny spent most of his time growling at other inhabitants of our condo complex or rolling in goose poop (classy, as always). Here are a couple videos of the dogs (and us) having fun:We also watched the presidential debate, about which I will only make this one itty-bitty innocuous comment: gobama.
Then on Saturday, we took a 10 mile bike ride through Peninsula State Park, which was unequivocally gorgeous and perfect that particular day, and later on bought some souvenir jam and mustard and then ate delicious Italian food at home while watching more of John Adams. Our night was spent mostly indoors due to the weather, which brought light rain and at least a ten degree drop in temperature, but it was actually AWESOME because our condo had a fireplace--oh my god, I love fireplaces.
We were sad to leave today. It was so nice getting away, and once again, beautiful Door County succeeded in reviving us after a stressful couple of weeks. It's so nice to be reminded of the loveliness and diversity of Wisconsin--there's really a lot of wonderful things here, and it's awesome to be able to take advantage of them.
In closing, GO BREW CREW!!!! Our adopted team is going to the playoffs, and we couldn't be more excited.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
"America, we are better than this" Part Two
Ok, to set the record straight, I'm not a Democrat. I'm really not. And hey, I might be worse things, actually! But that's beside the point. Anyway, I don't want this blog to become Obama Fest '08. I like the guy, really I do. He's intelligent, accomplished, inspiring and idealistic, and I can't help but want my country to be headed by someone of that caliber. But in general, I think the two party system is crap, and I live for the day when there are legitimate third and fourth party candidates and we actually have the luxury of 'choice' in this country.
For now, however, I just implore anyone and everyone who ever liked McCain (and I count myself among them) to watch his running mate Sara Palin's ABC interview with Charles Gibson. You can find most of it online. I think it spells out what we are really going to be voting for (or against) in November. Palin's inexperience (ignorance?) speaks volumes for itself in this interview, and I have no desire to delve into the ineptitude of her politics. I will say, though, that as a woman--a woman who truly believes that women are going to change the nature and course of this nation, and ultimately this planet--I am supremely disappointed, and I'm not ashamed to say it. She comes across as ignorant and uninformed, utterly contrived--a 'pitbull', sure! But to what end?? That she tries to fist-pump her way out of every situation in which it's so pathetically obvious she has no idea what she's talking about?? I'm embarrassed. I want Hilary back, and I never even loved Hilary that much to begin with!
Well, sorry. That's the end of the political rant, for the time being. I promise the next entry will be on giving injections, assessing babies, and having no idea what I'm doing in the hospital--perhaps a bit more light-hearted, but multitudes less important.
For now, however, I just implore anyone and everyone who ever liked McCain (and I count myself among them) to watch his running mate Sara Palin's ABC interview with Charles Gibson. You can find most of it online. I think it spells out what we are really going to be voting for (or against) in November. Palin's inexperience (ignorance?) speaks volumes for itself in this interview, and I have no desire to delve into the ineptitude of her politics. I will say, though, that as a woman--a woman who truly believes that women are going to change the nature and course of this nation, and ultimately this planet--I am supremely disappointed, and I'm not ashamed to say it. She comes across as ignorant and uninformed, utterly contrived--a 'pitbull', sure! But to what end?? That she tries to fist-pump her way out of every situation in which it's so pathetically obvious she has no idea what she's talking about?? I'm embarrassed. I want Hilary back, and I never even loved Hilary that much to begin with!
Well, sorry. That's the end of the political rant, for the time being. I promise the next entry will be on giving injections, assessing babies, and having no idea what I'm doing in the hospital--perhaps a bit more light-hearted, but multitudes less important.
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