trying to be strong

Gaza Poets Society has shared many beautiful poems over the years. Yesterday their message was a stark and anguished plea:

"Save our children"

What else is left to say? How can we go on in a world where children are willfully being sniped at and starved to death. I hope we can let the food waiting outside the Israeli blockade get through before it is too late. Everything else can wait.

*

Big A is so much better (fingers firmly crossed) and a good thing too, because he's back at work tonight. I think he could do with at least a couple more days off work, but he's on the schedule. "I exist to make a profit for the hospital's shareholders," is how he explained it to me.

Pic: I took Nance's advice and took A to spend some time with trees... Things have been so nerve-racking, we've barely been outside together. 

not normal

Now that my mom is a bit more stable, I'm beginning to worry about Big A. It's not normal to have a fever for so many days. As Jenny correctly said, my attitude has been that my mom's "probably a bit more fragile than Big A." But as Jeanie said, "not knowing" is scary. 

It's good I suppose that his labs aren't growing any scary bacteria (apparently, they'll keep looking at it every day or two to check). His best guess for now is that it's an unrelated virus that'll work its way out in time.

At some point in the evening yesterday, I looked up from my book to see tears running down his face and thought he was feeling really down. He was. He'd just read about the cardiologist and his family who were killed by an Israeli airstrike. This isn't normal either. There's so much happening on our watch and we're expected to carry on as though it shouldn't matter.

Pic: Max snuggled up to Big A and fast asleep. I need some good sleep sprawled out in abandon like this!

 

"unbecoming"

Stuck in a holding pattern today... Amma is stuck in the ICU (she hates it there because she loves company and is currently only allowed one visitor at a time twice a day); Big A is still holed up in the guest room with his road rash and his high fever.

I had to get out of the the house today. 

I said a fond and proud goodbye to TP, who's leaving Lansing to take up a tenure-track position at Bradley University.* I've known TP since they were a baby scholar and now they have a book out with Rutgers! (*I kept thinking Bradley sounded awfully familiar and only later did I realize it's because that's Sarah's [and Ben's?] alma mater!)

I had to attend a screening of my colleague SS's film Did You Guys Eat at the Broad Museum.

I had to take Max to a vet appointment. (Big A was supposed to, but clearly couldn't).

And then EM picked me up to take me to a "mental-health dinner" at Brody Cafeteria where I ate for the first time today, so I ate three plates of food and three desserts.

Pic: While at The Broad, I checked out Diana Al-Hadid's exhibit "Unbecoming" which plays on the concept of "unbecoming" as unraveling and also (when applied to women) as inappropriate. This particular piece was titled "Medusa." 

telling everyone I know

I usually don't post very much on FaceBook... But I needed everyone I knew to pull for my mom...

and they really came through.

That's the thing I have to love about Facebook, when you need people, everyone from your fifth-grade best friend to the newly-appointed president of your college shows up for you. 

I'm so grateful for everyone's well wishes, I hope they work for my Amma. 

Pic: Screen-grab from my FB post today

unpredictable

 For a few hours today, things seemed to be okay and I did normal things.

Then Amma got sent back to the ICU.

And... Big A who seemed to be recovering nicely from last week's bicycle crash developed a high fever, tested negative for flu and Covid, and had to make a trip to the E.R. for possible sepsis.

I guess the silver lining is that I fall asleep the minute I lie down because I can't wait to escape this plane. 

Wonder Women

Thank you for the well wishes. Mom is doing better. If she continues to be stable, they'll move her out of the ICU tomorrow. My seventy-nine-year-old mom has chronic heart and lung problems, but as Big A said, she's living to fight another day. 

I nearly died every time the phone rang today, imagining the worst. One branch in my brain's flowchart was already making arrangements to travel to Bangalore. Simultaneously, another branch was completely certain that everything would be alright, how could the world go on without Amma?

I know the day is coming for me, for all of us, and especially people my age. Just this week, I've had friends describe parents as "actively dying" and witnessed (on Facebook) friends whose last parent died describe how it's never old to feel like an orphan. They were not ready. I know I'm not ready. I doubt anyone ever is. 

Anyway, because my sister and I were constantly texting yesterday, I took some strength in thinking of ourselves as Wonder Women. Our group chat name plays with this theme--it's called "Wanda Women" since one of our family names is Wandawasi. 

Pic: Top--our "Wanda Women" Profile photo; Bottom--the photo Big A took the morning they left. Nu is a bonus presence in both.

back

The two on the left are now back in Bangalore.

I started the day stupid sad, but got progressively better as I crossed tasks off my to-do list.

Pic: From family dinner the day before they left. Amma, Chelli, Huck, At, Nu, and Max. I love everyone so much.... but have to say, Huck is the best poser.

airport picnics and no buenos

Today was goodbye. This second week really raced past. My dad is so awesome for managing by himself for two weeks... I really couldn't ask for a longer visit. But it was difficult saying goodbye. 

We found a four-leafed clover to pack for travel good luck. And Nu helped me with the big suitcases and Big A managed to jenga us into one car with all the luggage despite his dinged-up elbow.

When we got to the airport, it turned out that one of their four suitcases weighed more than allowed (50 lbs). So I repacked it so it (and the other suitcases) came in at 49.5. I felt like a hero because we avoided the 100$ fine. 

And I felt like a superhero when our little airport picnic of Parsi omelette sandwiches and veggies from the garden was pronounced perfect. But then they had to head for their gate via TSA and that's when my hero and superhero mantle crumbled and I (we all) (predictably) cried a bit.

And I cried lots more when I got home because Nu and Big A were there to be comforting. My poor long-suffering Big A--I spiraled a bit about my mom growing old, my sister not having a job, and how climate change is going to disproportionately affect places like India.

Anyway... we ate leftovers for dinner (yesterday's ratatouille and yogurt bread) and then I found a giant package of Kinder Bueno that my mom hadn't been able to fit into her luggage and left behind. I try not to eat questionably sourced chocolate, but this package was already here and Nu can't eat it (tree nut allergy), so I set to work. I've eaten seven (maybe eight) things this evening. Each one has two bars. 

Pic: Amma and me. Photo by Chelli (baby sis). 

from here to go-dhuli

our words tear paths

as if we are oracles

our touch gathers

courage as though 

there's no law for it 

mosquitoes now follow us home 

knocking on our window panes

like tiny trickster castaway birds

who are also sorrowful orphans 

it is yet a quiet sky

as the clouds go by 

in the long intimacy

of anguish, a golden

go-dhuli dust blooms

my mother has promised us love

and it is in this clearing: quiet as--

wary as-- gentle as-- worn as-- cattle

waiting and gentling into another time

_____________________________

Note: Go-dhuli, literally "dust of cows" in Sanskrit, the golden hour of sunset when cattle return home; it is considered to be a beautiful and auspicious time and is a nostalgic trope. Cows are revered as archetypal mothers (Go-matha) in Hindu-Indian culture. (I mean, that's where "holy cow" as an expression probably came from!?) Also, my mom and I have a very silly, longstanding act where we play cow and calf.

____________________________

Pic: Nu's photo of Chelli, Huck, Max, and me reading in the afternoon. (Or Chelli and I are trying to anyway.)

prayer for a future tide

hollows show with stars

in sequence all these years 

paralyzed only by the possibility

of time... if this world were mine

*

we'd follow the ripples on the path 

to where we widen daily treads

into the light, though the trail 

turns water as salty as tears  

*

the sound of the sea is

so close to the humming om 

of planets... of eternity folding--

dissolving all we can ever know... 

*

reversing presents, lining calendar

days in black, and yet bringing

the urgent surf of every day 

where we learn to love

__________
Pic: Nu's photo of Amma, Chelli, and me. I love that that there are complimentary wheelchairs at most museums. 

the party I wanted to cancel...

I had a wonderful MidSummer party planned for yesterday. I sent out invitations with my mom and sister's names the week their tickets were finalized. At has been valiantly making it to family dinners (and then then curling into my side on the sofa later), but I knew At wouldn't be able to come to an actual party. 

I really wanted to cancel this party... but I'd just invited so many people, some when I bumped into them randomly, that I was afraid that people would show up anyway.

So we carried on, and it was kinda nice to see people and see people having fun. There were flower crowns and butterfly backdrops for selfies and a bonfire for wishes and people stayed late into the night...

in honor of those who came before us

We're reading Angeline Boulley's Warrior Girl Unearthed for book club. Much of it takes place in northern Michigan--on Sugar Island where L had disappeared to last week, in fact. It is YA, but deftly deals with NAGPRA and the book is wonderfully infused with details about indigenous Ojibwe culture. 

So we took a road trip yesterday to visit the Ziibiwing Center where I was happy to introduce my fam and Mr. Ray to each other. On the way home, we stopped by my office for a picnic lunch.

Pic: Nu's photo of us by the college sign. (I cropped some of it out.)

we're worth it

Already unthinkably wild things have been done and said (by my mom, natch) and wilder things have been said in support (by Big A who is her sidekick, sometimes.) 

Pic: Max and Huck aren't quite sure what to make of it all. I seem caught by surprise (and so, so much happiness) too.

escape from injustice and war

Pic: Nu's photo of Max and me. I want to do only escapist things like read and snuggle and gaze into puppies' eyes forever and ever.

Happy SolsticeWeekend! 

Happy Free Mahmoud Khalil Day! 

I don't want to think about the Supreme Court's decision to ban gender affirming care to minors. I don't want to think about how the U.S. has bombed Iran... and if that means we're in another war now.

There are many poems about war. Here's Mahmoud Darwish's:

The war will end

The leaders will shake hands

The old woman will keep waiting for her martyred son

The girl will wait for her beloved husband

And those children will wait for their hero father

I don’t know who sold our homeland

But I saw who paid the price

It's quite cis-het normative, isn't it? I didn't remember that about the poem... 

Three Things from Tuesday's to do/done list

1) Trip to Ikea with Nu this morning. Our plan was to blast our Indian (Hindi, Telugu, + Tamil) playlist and I would translate key parts of the chorus for Nu. But the first few songs had predominantly English lyrics. "Oh, are they saying, 'Take the world and paint it red'?" Nu asked archly of this song, for instance. So we were laughing about that, and then Nu fell asleep. On the way back Nu played me their new fave artist--a Swedish rapper called Bladee (who raps in English). The auto-synth gave me a headache, but I was a good sport because the lyrics provided ample cues to talk about mental health, relationships, drugs, and sex.

2) I fixed my bad record of not submitting any poetry this year by turning in a submission last week... and received a rejection. (And immediately began to worry that I'll NEVER place another poem EVER again.)

3) In yet another marathon gabfest this evening with the CUN(ext)T(uesday) friends, I got excellent advice as usual. I need to work on making those long overdue (by years and years) medical appointments. I feel I'm very in tune with my body and don't need preventative tests, but I'm probably just telling myself that because I find mammograms and pap smears very uncomfortable. And while vaguely on medical subjects, I have to say the woman who helped me place Nu's contact lenses order was an absolute gem--not only did she find a $150 rebate, she called me five minutes after our call to say she'd convinced my patchy eye-insurance to pay up another $120.

Pic: Three canoes on The Red Cedar from my long walk yesterday. 

ceremony (and the start of summer)

I guess I'm still not American enough. Why don't they hold graduation in their own auditorium, I wondered. The high school auditorium is pretty huge, but not Big-Ten university basketball stadium huge, which apparently is the size you'd need to accommodate Nu's graduating class and and their families.

(Incidentally, "accommodate" is a word Magic Johnson, once a player at this very stadium, used very inventively. As in: "I did my best to accommodate as many women as I could." They have his name up there and it reminded me.) 

Anyway, it was a full day--breakfast with one set of grandparents, lunch with another, then off to pick up people for the ceremony, and back at our place for dinner... Nu is currently away celebrating with friends.

I can't wait to get into my summer routine. Tomorrow we have an all-day department workshop. So perhaps I can start from this weekend, which conveniently happens to be the beginning of June? Yay!

Pic: Watching as the students throw their caps into the air. How much hope for the future is gathered in this one place! I clapped for each and every graduate and am so happy and hopeful for all of them.  I wish admin could have found a way to spend a moment to honor the senior student who died last year. 

"when the sky looks back at you"

Today was a free day in New Jersey, where we lived two decades ago. It doesn't look changed at all and I wish there was more time to go into NYC. I started messaging old friends for hanging out earlier in the week, and many were away for the long weekend, but I ended up setting up little dates with some.

But first breakfast with Daria! The conversation was nonstop, tripping over the many, many things we have in common--teaching, growing up in a different country, poetry... And things we don't--like Daria's love for camping. I loved how she described the night sky looking back at her when she is in her tent so much, it became the title of this post. Both Daria and I are spare writers--we rarely have posts that are pages long--but we chatted and laughed our way through 2-3 hours so easily. I really, really, really hope to meet Daria again. Maybe in Michigan? The Midwest? 

Another highlight was meeting PRS after years--we go back decades and she is likely the brainiest person I know and I love her so much. She is uncompromisingly honest, so when she says she is proud of me for building a home where my kids can chart "their comfort journeys home to themselves," it is something to truly treasure. She does not hesitate on calling me on my nonsense, and once I swallow my initial defensive responses, I can see where I can do better. PRS is writing full-time now--when we first met, she was doing something her parents wanted her to. I am so ready to see her long-form work in print. 

Pic: Beautiful Daria gave me this exqusite edition of Anna Akhmatova's poetry that I will treasure forever.

all dressed up

Pic: Cousin K's friend who spent Diwali with us last November took this picture of me, Nu, and At before the evening festivities started.

A parade, party, people, people I haven't seen in years, dancing... I was so happy. 

Nu was a bit under the weather (hence their mask), so I  thought we should leave early. But the kids convinced me that At would take Nu back to the hotel and I should stay and enjoy. 

And so I did.

"pediatricians are the best"

Pic: Cousin N took this picture of At and me with our fresh wedding henna. Earlier, when she saw At, she took one look and swept in for a big hug saying At looked beautiful. She didn't pause for questions about names, pronouns, histories... At beamed. There's such a sense of relief being with my kids in an accepting place. 

When I texted Big A about Cousin N, he texted back that pediatricians are the best. (Cousin N used to be At's pediatrician when At was a toddler, actually.)

And Cousin K, the bride, has just matched with the pediatrics residency program at New York presbyterian. She's very good with kids too and the reason why Nu, so notoriously averse to big gatherings, decided to do this trip--because toddler Nu was a big fan of Cousin K.

this brat is back

Thanks for the well-wishes and messages of support, everyone! I'm back! Reentry was "uneventful." And so quick. Immigration did not even need our passports--one quick face camera scan, a green check, and you're through. The whole thing took less than two seconds. That's the good news. It's a bit unnerving how rapid and extensive the system is and how recognizable we are, though! 

Every time, I read the word "uneventful" in your comments--Nance, Lisa, Jenny, Nicole, Steph, Jeanie, and J--I felt like you were sending me a coded message of support. Ever since I shared that I was worried that my social media alignment might make things sticky for me at immigration, you all have been so kind about sending good wishes. It's a sign of the times, I suppose, that no one thought I was overreacting. And in a way that escalated my anxiety, because I could see it wasn't all in my head. Even three months ago, most people wouldn't have considered my fears legitimate. Engie was quite positive I'd be ok, and I'm glad she was right. 

Anyway, I made it through with a watermelon charm hanging off my backpack, my kuffiyeh and other Palestinian solidarity materials in my suitcase, and without scrubbing my social media. It's part of my resolve to be true to myself, not to "obey in advance," and to participate in "good trouble" when I can. 

Pic: On that note, I headed for the Palestinian solidarity march yesterday (half a million strong, by some accounts) and got this photo of Palestinian flags waving under the blue sky and Big Ben's tower. + I met up with someone I met online back in October when we were being onboarded as instructors to teach students in Gaza. KK was just as lovely in person and we had a nice chat as we marched for close to three hours.