Musings

Thanksgiving and I am continuously aware of all the golden airy blessings around me.

A quiet holiday at home and still it was pure bliss. I had forgotten the many nuances of relaxation and self-care. So happy to have reclaimed them. There is so much breathing room available when there is not a looming to-do list. Because I am still me, I still made a to-do list, but it looked quite different this time: bake muffins, go for walk, watch football, etc.

Fall is also a good time for introspection. My thirties have sometimes offered a “thousand foot view” that was not there in earlier years. When I think about the big things that have defined my life, I think about my mom’s passing and my practice. And I sometimes am struck by how some of the biggest things in this life are experienced in solitude, in the meek, quiet hours of late nights and early mornings. Hard to reconcile that so many intensely personal (and lonely) experiences exist in the context of so much love… And there IS so much love. Such is the nature of life.

It is colder. I am older. Taylor’s 10-minute version of “All Too Well” has been released. Such is the nature of fall.

Not too long ago, I read something by Mari Andrew. She indicated that instead of a traditional gratitude list, she started making a list of everything she observed. It helped her feel mindful and present. I really liked that idea. I sometimes think of my Instagram or this blog as a collection of my favorite things, but it is also nice to observe and document all the things. At the same time, I am not sure I need further awareness of the things that keep me up at night.

And there are things. Much like Taylor, I’d like to be remembered for the things I love. Not the things that scare me or frustrate me.

That’s all for now. Walking through Breakheart Reservation and then making a pot roast. Tomorrow – the day of writing a million reports!

Well, 2020 is off to a shitastic start with worries about relationships, houses, and careers. It’s always darkest just before dawn? Still, I am fishing for the sun.

I’ve been dreaming a thousand dreams for this year. But I have failed at most things. Reached a thousand dead-ends. Seems like the one thing I can be efficacious at is writing. So I will do that.

I am not sure where the progress is. Where it will be. The more I keep pushing, the more stuck I am. I know that good things take time and a lot of effort. But it seems as if I am trying so hard and not seeing a modicum of change. It is starting to feel hopeless to try.

“Sometimes not getting what you want is a wonderful stroke of luck.” I have run out of things to want. I am not seeing the good fortune.

 

“I believe in energies that no one has to see for us to prove
I believe in you and me and everything we’ll ever see and do

The rain pours down in a million rivers
All through the sand with the silver slivers
And it keeps on coming
How it gives my heart blood
How it gives my heart blood” -MMPA

Dancing in the living room to Vitamin String Quartet. I hope we are always young and vibrant and maybe even a little foolish.

The melancholy feel to the beginning of the year is lifting, and I am remembering that winter is not just gray and white but all the other colors too. I am reminded of the quote by Camus:

“In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer. And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger–something better, pushing right back.”

I think about my winter in Bucks County, Pennsylvania and how fond some of my memories are from that time. Could it be… that PA was not so bad? No. It says little about PA and more about my own resilience. Those moments were lit from within and have little to do about surroundings.

I am thinking about Bucks County lately because I feel directionless now the same way I did back then. What to do with this entire year that has unraveled before me? Where is the plan? The goal? The ambition? Maybe it is darkest just before dawn?

Then I am sad and disappointed in myself for my own greed. Would another year of the same be so bad? I live my dream city. I have a job I can completely nerd out at. Dream bf. Dream cat. A little gratitude might go a long way.

And still I can’t remember a year when nothing big happened…

2020, I don’t know what you have in store, but I’m waiting.

Gratitude List: the first of 2020

• Lentil soup for sore throats
• Midday texts and calls
• A clean apartment
• Crock pot recipes
• Tea and pancakes
• The openness to therapy
• Prospective dates in Melrose (even though it might be haunted)
• (Folk Horror) Movie nights at home
• The addition of a rhumba
• Warmth in bed, snuggles, etc.
• Emotional warmth

Here it is: the end of another year. (And decade?) Before setting intentions for 2020, the traditional review of the last year. Here are the things that stand out in my memory:

• Patriots win the Super Bowl!
• Nancy Pelosi “applauds” Drumf in the clap heard round the world.
• Traveling to Mexico with my two friends. Sharing many laughs, drinks, and a lot of relaxation. I feel so fortunate to be able to take vacations that offer a temporary respite from New England winters.
• Adam officially signs the lease and moves in. Birdle continues his extended stay.
• Adam’s mom visits… we see Stomp and visit Breakheart Reservation for a walk
• My caseload at work revs up, including a number of legal cases, with a push to get everything done before the end of the school year.
• Kiley asks me to be a bridesmaid!
• Prague!
• Berlin!
• Somerville Porchfest
• A summer of sailing… it was so exhilarating, satisfying, and a little scary to learn something new. I rigged my first boat in the pouring rain. Got my green flag rating in late May. Spent the summer practicing tacking and jibing.
• Playing an open-mic at Article 24.
• Night in White with Scarlet!
• Anne graduates high school and subsequently attends Rutgers.
• Scattering my mom’s ashes off the coast of Cape May in July. Still the sentence resonates within me: I had never seen butteries so far out at sea. I put the remaining ashes in an urn that sits on my bookshelf. On the one year anniversary of her passing (August), I had planned to scatter a small amount of them at a nearby beach in Mass. But the water was freezing and the waves were enormous. So many times I had to say goodbye to her. But on that day, fate spared me the experience. I guess I didn’t need to say goodbye to her one more time.
• Dad and Sara came up to visit in July… we saw fireworks off the coast of Gloucester. We went to Provincetown and watched my dad cringe.
• My best friend’s wedding (small, cozy, joyous, at a restaurant in North End)
• Dates with Adam…  to water fire in Providence, to the Inman Oasis spa, to Assabet Valley Wildlife Refuge.
• Nashville–music, biscuits, and kayaking.
• Guster, Mt Joy, and Noah Kahn at a concert in Gloucester 🙂
• Camping and hiking in the White Mountains! A first for me. So happy to be able to accomplish that and share the experience with special people.
• Alzheimer’s walk. Raised $1661. So so grateful.
• Attending a wedding in Vermont–so gorgeous. Such a happy experience to see two people have such boundless love and trust for each other.
• We lost Sylvester, who was really my mom’s cat. He brought us so much comfort, so many laughs, so much love. He will be dearly missed. Hope they are snuggling in heaven together.
• Ohio to visit Chris, Alana, the kids, and company! Beer tasting, bonfires, hot tubbing. A decade of friendship.
• Running my first 5k! I never–ever– thought I would run a 5k. This year I ran three! I am still a super slow runner with a highly inconsistent training schedule. But I am really happy to say that this is something I accomplished in 2019.
• Adam’s mom visits again, this time with his sister Ali. Lots of good times, homemade soup, and a festival in Cambridge.
• A resurgence of interest in knitting, this time hats and cowls and snoods.
• Seeing Buttigieg speak live. So inspirational. This is the leader I want. He impresses me with his depth of knowledge, his humility, and his curiosity… plus, it would be so wonderful to have policies that match research and science.
• V’s wedding in Clearwater Beach! Another happy occasion.
• Thanksgiving with my family. The usual nonsense, good and bad.
• Celebrating two years with Adam with a lovely dinner and a walk around Boston.
• Syracuse for Christmas.
• Reaching my savings goals $$$
• Starting Invisalign to fix that one pesky tooth that’s been bothering me for years.
• The year ended with two very special engagements. My dad proposed to Sara on Christmas morning. The same day, my uncle Reynolds proposed to Marlene. My heart is filled with joy for them.

 

Intentions for 2020:

• Learn and practice Cross Country Skiing
• Attain US Sailing (Basic Keelboat) Certification
• Travel to Jamaica
• Possibly get board certified in neuropsychology
• New job???

I had never seen butterflies so far out to sea.

We scattered my mom’s ashes and read the passages below. We placed a bouquet of roses on the water and watched them float up and down with the waves. I cried. My dad cried.

And then I knew, on the back of a boat off the coast of Cape May, that every relationship has its complexities, its troubles. For as much as love blooms and grows, it also has deepest depths.

—

“Listen, I will tell you a mystery!
We will not all die, but we will all be changed.
For tis perishable body must put on imperishability,
and this mortal body must put on immortality.
Then the saying that is written will be fulfilled:
Death has been swallowed up in victory.
Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?
But thanks be to God,
who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

“Therefore my heart is glad, and my soul rejoices;
my body also dwell secure.
You, show me the path of life;
in your presence there is fullness of joy,
in your right hand are pleasures forevermore.”

“O God ,you have ordered this wonderful world
and know all things in earth and in heaven.
Give us such faith that by day and by night,
at all times and in all places,
we may without fear commit ourselves
and those dear to us
to your never-failing love,
in his life and in the life to come. Amen.”

“Gracious God,
we thank you for those we love but see no more.
Receive into your arms your servant Marie,
and grant that increasing in knowledge and love of you,
she may go from strength to strength
in services to your heavenly kingdom;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

“Eternal God, you have shared with us the life of Marie.
Before she was ours, she is yours.
for all that Marie has given us to make us what we are,
for that of her which lives and grows in each of us,
and for her life that in your love will never end,
we give you thanks.
As now we offer Marie back into your arms,
comfort us in our loneliness,
strengthen us in our weakness,
and give us courage to face the future unafraid.
Draw those of us who remain in this life close to one another,
make us faithful to serve one another,
and give us to know that peace and joy which is eternal life;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

“Into Thy hands, O Lord, we commend the soul of thy servant, Marie, departed, now called unto eternal rest, and we commit her body to the deep.”

“The Lord bless thee and keep thee, the Lord make His face to shine upon thee and be gracious unto thee, the Lord lift up the light of his countenance upon thee ,and give thee peace. Amen.”

Hi Mom,

It’s me. Here we are almost a year later but it all feels fresh. The part that doesn’t feel fresh is even bittersweet because it means even more time has passed since I’ve seen you.

Near the end I was helping you get changed. And I saw your belly… the part of you that carried me 32 years ago.

I know you raised me to be a confident, brave, independent person but I don’t always feel like those things. And for that I feel I’ve let you down. I know it’s ok to have moments of vulnerability. Of pain and weakness. But you didn’t put your heart in soul into raising me so that I could have permanent tear-stained cheeks.

I miss you. So much it hurts. I miss my best friend. My confident. My cheerleader. My coach. The person telling me I am enough. The person telling me to be myself. The person telling me to keep going. To stop. To have faith. To fight. To forgive. To move on. To stop being ridiculous. To keep being ridiculous. I miss the person who once said, “If you want to do tequila shots and wake up in Vegas, that’s ok.” I miss you.

Going forward, I will be ok… but “ok” was never the standard you set for anything. You were exceptional. In teaching and gardening and swimming. You were exceptional at loving. At raising a daughter. I wanted to be exceptional too.

Thank you for being an exceptional mother to me. For teaching me lessons in and out of the classroom. For being the one soft spot for me in an otherwise hard world.

I will remember and love you. Forever.

I think in the past, I may have been more discrete, less open. I so badly wanted to protect her privacy and dignity. I didn’t want anyone thinking of her that way, thinking she was anything other than strong and capable and beautiful and brave.

It has been almost one year since she died, but there are still lots of firsts. First memorial day, first mother’s day, and now, her first birthday. She would have been 63 today. I would have been a different person.

Some days–most days even–it doesn’t feel right to be happy without her. But then I think, she did not put her blood, sweat, and tears into raising me so that I could be sad all the time. But this sadness (and loss) have become quite comfortable. They are steady companions that I hardly notice anymore, much like a cat by my side, but far less comforting.

What would I tell her if she was here? That I hope she is proud of the life I have made for myself. That was one of the things she told me before she was too far gone, “Make it a beautiful life.” I am trying.

Everyday it feels like a greater divergence between the path I am on and the path where Alz didn’t take her. I have to try harder and harder to imagine what life would be like if she was here–but still I try constantly. I wonder if she would visit Boston, how often. If she would ever get in a sailboat with me. I would send her daily pictures of Tiger. She would give me advice on love and work and being a 30-something.

Instead I speak to her through the great unknown and hope for a response. Hope that I can feel her presence close to me again. It is like calling out from underwater.

I am here, Mom. I am doing ok. We miss you and love you. Happy birthday.

Winter, you are one big bummer. So many days feel dark and twisty. But today you were beautiful. The kind of cold that is serious but pure. Today felt… ok. It feels safe to write, and so I will.

I have been thinking that 2017 was the year that changed me. I got honest with myself about who I was and what I wanted. 2017 was marked by one incredibly painful breakup. I cleaned out my childhood home. I spent my last full year with my mom. I held three different jobs. I got myself out of PA. Moved to Boston. I gave up on several toxic relationships. Finally reported the sexual harassment at my internship. After all was said and done, I can’t help thinking that some of these choices made room for better things.

While 2017 was the year that changed me, I think 2018 was the year that changed everything around me. I… did not make that many significant decisions in 2018. And yet, there were so many things that happened around me–the big and obvious one being the loss of my mom. I returned to PA multiple times, but every trip marked something big. The first visit when she didn’t remember me. Signing her into hospice. THE visit…the one when I went to say goodbye, held her hand, thanked her for being the most amazing mom (as if any thanks would be enough). I visited for her funeral service. And then… I went back for Christmas–my first visit “home” when she wasn’t the primary reason for me being there. Even when it’s not about her, it is still about her.

I swam clear across Walden Pond and back. When I emerged from the water, I wasn’t any different. But my mom had died.

2018 held many other changes too… My practice became a new practice. My relationship with Adam grew. Piano returned to my life. Adam moved in. Thanksgiving took place in Syracuse. Boston became home again and continued with its beauty and wonder–the Night in White, Sand Sculpting Festival in Revere, Shannon Beach, Spy Pond, the Gold Ribbon Ceremony. I am the same. But life is different now.

I don’t know what 2019 will hold. One of my favorite quotes about the new year is that I know it will hold flowers, because I am planting flowers. At this moment, I hope it is peaceful and still, but retains the radiance that I know life can have.