Tonight is the anniversary of my mothers' death (well, so we assume, but it is the night we learned of it.) After years and years of emotional mental pain, fueled by her profound experiences in Belgium during the Holocaust, she made what was undoubtedly an UNBEARABLE decision not to usher in another new year. She has been dead for more than 1/2 my life.
Many of you were with me when I learned this, and watched me move about a party as if nothing had happened to forever change my world. Most of us were 21 or 22, and when I think back on it, and recently expressed to some of you, I can't believe how awkward that must have been for everyone there.
Anyway, the point of all this is to say that I will honor her tonight as I have on many others, by in some way, letting her know, that I'm so sorry I couldn't understand when I was 9-21 what her turmoil and thoughts were like. However, as an adult, a mother,I can only try to imagine what it was like to muddle through, manage to cook dinner, get me off to school, buy me my Brownie uniform and do the stuff that I now find myself doing, in the best way she could. And I have come to understand, that it WAS the best she could do, and when she sat with my head in her lap and played with my hair, I know that that was the purity of unconditional love.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
2009, what the hell was that all about?
In less than 2 days, I get to close the door on one hell of a 365-day teaching moment.
The Bad Stuff:
Being laid-off from a job I loved in January. Losing my best friend in February. In March, learning that the man I was in my first semi-real relationship with since my divorce already HAD a girlfriend (woops!), and in the months that followed--my ex-husband got remarried, I fell very hard for someone I couldn't have a relationship with, I had to move because I couldn't afford the home I loved, and I'm living more hand-to-mouth than I have since being in my 20s.
The Good Stuff:
Reconnecting with people from almost every phase of my life (Will, thank you for being the shining standout of my short life in LA), the gift of laughter every single day (Mark B, I could never foresake you), pearls of wisdom from the most unexpected bit players from my past (my dear tantrickster), FINDING a job, embracing my community, finding a new place that I love, Maniacal Kitten, great kissers, learning that I really CAN spoon and fall asleep, kindness, confidence, magnificent books like The Book Thief (which actually make me question how in the world I could ever attempt to write anything more than a quippy status update), fan mail, the Vibrastrait and the every day miracle of my child.
I would never bore you with my 2010 resolutions. I expect that some of my patterns will repeat themselves, and I PRAY that some I will learn to finally leave behind. This blogging business could be very useful in keeping me in check.
The Bad Stuff:
Being laid-off from a job I loved in January. Losing my best friend in February. In March, learning that the man I was in my first semi-real relationship with since my divorce already HAD a girlfriend (woops!), and in the months that followed--my ex-husband got remarried, I fell very hard for someone I couldn't have a relationship with, I had to move because I couldn't afford the home I loved, and I'm living more hand-to-mouth than I have since being in my 20s.
The Good Stuff:
Reconnecting with people from almost every phase of my life (Will, thank you for being the shining standout of my short life in LA), the gift of laughter every single day (Mark B, I could never foresake you), pearls of wisdom from the most unexpected bit players from my past (my dear tantrickster), FINDING a job, embracing my community, finding a new place that I love, Maniacal Kitten, great kissers, learning that I really CAN spoon and fall asleep, kindness, confidence, magnificent books like The Book Thief (which actually make me question how in the world I could ever attempt to write anything more than a quippy status update), fan mail, the Vibrastrait and the every day miracle of my child.
I would never bore you with my 2010 resolutions. I expect that some of my patterns will repeat themselves, and I PRAY that some I will learn to finally leave behind. This blogging business could be very useful in keeping me in check.
Resolute
1. firmly resolved or determined; set in purpose or opinion.
2. characterized by firmness and determination, as the temper, spirit, actions, etc.
Along with the ubiquitous "lose ten pounds," "save money," "stop smoking," for me, the blind item has always been "Stop squandering your talent. WRITE SOMETHING."
When I was in elementary school, I tapped out about 20 pages of a wannabe novel called "He Was My Best Friend, He Was My Brother" (clearly poised to be optioned for an after-school special), typed in all caps and red ink. It was passed around the lunchroom, friends of mine pulling up to the table to get in line to read it. When my real life brother got spinal meningitis, the disease I used in the book to kill off the fake one, I got spooked, and never finished.
Ask old friends from camp what they remember about me, most of them will instantly spit out an image of me, on my top bunk, scribbling in a journal or reading a book. And, when one of those same friends (thank you Lauren) continues to yell at you for NOT writing now, well, you get sick of hearing her and do something like this, the modern day version of me scribbling from a top bunk.
2. characterized by firmness and determination, as the temper, spirit, actions, etc.
Along with the ubiquitous "lose ten pounds," "save money," "stop smoking," for me, the blind item has always been "Stop squandering your talent. WRITE SOMETHING."
When I was in elementary school, I tapped out about 20 pages of a wannabe novel called "He Was My Best Friend, He Was My Brother" (clearly poised to be optioned for an after-school special), typed in all caps and red ink. It was passed around the lunchroom, friends of mine pulling up to the table to get in line to read it. When my real life brother got spinal meningitis, the disease I used in the book to kill off the fake one, I got spooked, and never finished.
Ask old friends from camp what they remember about me, most of them will instantly spit out an image of me, on my top bunk, scribbling in a journal or reading a book. And, when one of those same friends (thank you Lauren) continues to yell at you for NOT writing now, well, you get sick of hearing her and do something like this, the modern day version of me scribbling from a top bunk.
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