some warm thoughts on a frigid day

So far this year, the kid from Chicago has visited once and the college kid has spent two weekends at home. I squeezed them every chance I got. Not only did they squeeze me back, they're prone to special things like doing my chores for me when I'm not paying attention and bringing me treats when I'm working. They're consistently the best.

It's painful doing video calls with my dad and sis... because from my side of things, my mom's absence is so plain. It's difficult also because my mom was the chatty one on that side, the one with whom I shared books and shows, and now it's just the three of us being sad. 

My mom was so very chatty. I always laugh when I think of that one time At was on a phone call with my mom (maybe when At was 9/10 years old). At had been silent on the call for a while, so I whispered encouragement to say something, and At shot back, "I'm still waiting for Ammama to stop talking." Haha. Good times. 
______________________
Pic: A glimpse of The Maple River. Cold. It's going to stay in the single digits all week.

a good reason to cry

Grief has a calendar. People have been telling me that it'll take a year at a minimum. And that other things like crying daily will change. I did not believe this to be possible, but it happened--I no longer cry every day. Even my weird nausea has mostly abated without medical assistance. I'm now in a new phase where it is "How have you been?" from someone I haven't seen in a while that makes me cry--because the last time I saw them, things were likely very different.

But this past week, I had a very good reason to cry. A non-binary elementary school music teacher was recently hired in the small rural school district to the north of us. Things were going well until there was the usual hate and outrage about kids needing to learn "non traditional pronouns" etc. At the public hearing, as a student relayed it, all this was shared in detail by two very vocal people. And then... over 70 teachers, students, parents, members of the community spoke up in support of the teacher. The school supervisor had always been supportive, but the Board could see in real time how much the community did not want to give in to hate. Here's something of a live report. I'm glad to have a "good" reason to cry.

Pic: Another amaryllis blooming: this is one I bought myself a couple of years ago from the $3 discount bin.

public sightings

1) At the MFA student reading yesterday, I was reminded of the many things that are right in the world. Young people are creating poems and stories and journals to host other people's poems and stories and brave voices are finding themselves and amplifying other's voices (one poet read Renee Good's poem). I especially loved seeing old student CW's new work. 

2) JN took me to a drag show on Wednesday (I blew off grief group to go), and I met my first Drag King, Prince Marsallis. I love Prince, so the name in itself was a delight.

3) FYI, If I was out in public and you yelled out “pedophile protector” I would not think you were talking to me because I’m not a pedophile protector. I've decided that I'm going to use this to introduce interpellation in the Critical Theory class.

4) Aw! Someone tipped me off that on a new webpage titled "Best Decision Ever" that asks students why they love the college, a student had named me, saying,  "I’ve never met someone so passionate and caring for students."(I love my students and I'm glad they can tell.)

Pic: From the Jim Daniels reading last week. He's an alum of the college, taught here (before my time), gave the commencement speech at At's graduation, and teaches in the MFA program, but yesterday was the first time I was actually introduced to him. He then proceeded to talk my ear off (I didn't mind at all).

still on this

I am so sad the last words she may have heard as she died were "Fuckin' Bitch." I wonder how many women have heard those very words because someone felt enraged that their perceived power wasn't being obeyed and deferred to.

Pic: Lansing protest in honor of Renee Nicole Good. 

Her name was Good

Today was a day... especially for checking up on my Minneapolis people. It has been so heavy lately. There was the middle-of-the night shooting of Rep. Hortman, her spouse, and Gilbert and then the daytime Annunciation school shooting. This morning on a residential street, ICE randomly shot 37-year-old Renee Nicole Good in the head and did not allow her any medical assistance (they threatened the physician who offered to provide medical assistance with a gun); she died. What are you supposed to do when masked goons with no ID surround your car? If they're shooting white people now, the fascism has really escalated. 

She was a human being. She was there as an observer. She was innocent (if that matters). She was a citizen (if that matters). She was a parent. Her six-year-old's father died in 2023, so this child is truly orphaned. 

Renee Nicole (Macklin) Good was a poet. She won a prize for this poem. 

endings

1) Jeanie said something in the comments last week that I haven't been able to stop thinking about. She noted that 2025 had been a year of leaving for me. My mom died, Nu went away to college, and At moved to Chicago. Not all of it is as sad as the first thing on the list--I'm happy for Nu and At; this is the right thing for them. (And it helps that Big A and I are having a wonderful time by ourselves.) The way Jeanie framed this actually helped me, because after At's ex and my mom died within months of each other, I kept thinking some third calamity would befall us. Now here's a list of three, and I feel like I can exhale. 

2) It has been four months. On the family WhatsApp chat, which we'd continued to use since the avatar was a group photo with my mom, I guess the system has noticed there haven't been any messages from my mom in a while, so it posted that she had "left the conversation." My sister and I were very rattled by this. I keep sneaking looks at that screen and it's a gut punch every time. 

3) Engie marveled yesterday that we start school so early. Yes, but I take heart in knowing that in 15 weeks, this semester will end and bring me face-to-face with summer break.* I feel-hope-trust that sunshine will heal me.

* I usually end this sentence with "bitches!" in my head.

Pic: Grey, sleeting, and foggy--a terrible trifecta all day. (Not a B&W photo.)

Monday # 1

It's just another Monday, but also the very first Monday of the year, so I'm counting that as significant! 

I'm all prepped (Canvas pages are published, syllabuses are ready, students have been emailed, I've looked over my notes and silly jokes, diagnostics are ready to go, waitlisted students in the oversubscribed classes have been manually added to the roster, I looked up new icebreakers, etc.). But that doesn't mean I'm not super antsy with the usual mix of excitement AND ANXIETY. I've been teaching for over 30 years... And yet, every time is like the first time.

Some somewhat Hamnet-related thoughts. First off, Nance, Lisa, and J were so kind in their approval of that last poem. And I thought about how I couldn't have written that poem if my mom was alive. And then weirdly how proud she'd be of being my muse if she knew. But how happy I'd be to just have her be here so I could write about ants and grasses or whatever else I used to write about before. Also, I'm pretty wrecked by mom's passing... but, watching that movie, it occurred to me that I cannot even imagine losing a human child.  

Pic: The daffodil buds I bought myself last week are beginning to flower, as are the roses SH gave me on Saturday. JL gave me that little red cardinal when cardinals were visiting me everyday in Amma's wake in September. I should start a label# SecretWinterFlowers

patchwork world

Big A offered to take Nu back to college so I could work on what I need to get back to campus. Now I'm mostly all set for the start of term. I'm going to miss Nu and their quirky humor and their sweetly impulsive affections and their friends in and out of the house all day long! 

After Big A returned, we walked to the planetarium for a show, and then walked over to our usual sushi place, and then headed home to watch a movie with Max and Huck. 

So overall a nice (Boss) day for me, but the words of wise ones are ringing in my ears. Edward Said: "Every empire, however, tells itself and the world that it is unlike all other empires, that its mission is not to plunder and control but to educate and liberate." Tupac: "They got money for wars but can't feed the poor."

Pic: The Red Cedar beginning a sunset show as we walked across the bridge. 

when tenderness descends

even as a world we knew is ending

in the fullness of indifference 

a new year is beginning  

another time will soon need assembly 

we'll plot, field plans, while you 

look down from a photograph

your smile tells me that it's ok to let 

my guard down even after god 

let you down...

in the brightness of believing in you 

I search in the silence and hear

susurrance as a yes

_____________

Pic: Outside with Max this morning.

"When you can only go UP"

The title makes this sound like a post about how when things start out pretty bad, they can only get better...

But actually, "When you can only go UP" was Big A's text that accompanied this forlorn picture of Huck on the family chat. She loves to scamper up the back stairs, but freaks out about the descent because they're floating stairs and she could fall through them. She used to be fine with them last year, but probably had a close call and decided that was enough. Now, she'll just mope until someone notices and carries her downstairs. (She looks so darn adorable peeking through the slats though!)

However, in the things getting better department:

I'm happy to hear that the National Guard will be withdrawn from Chicago (also LA and Portland, but Chicago is where At lives now).

The lights over the dining table have been very flicker-y for a couple of days. We've put in a call to the electrician, but in the meantime, we've been eating our dinners by candlelight. I knew I'd be all over it, but Nu and Big A really enjoy the cosy vibe as well.

I've been doing things... with people again. Earlier this week, I went to a movie with friends. We were supposed to get dinner after, but the movie was Hamnet and I cried for at least 70% of the movie and so I came back home. I got coffee today. I'm getting brunch tomorrow. It's not all walks and bookclubs either.

School starts up on Monday for Nu and me. I can't wait to get back to the three R's--return, routine, and regularity.

to a bright timeline

Oh, 2026... thank you for getting my hopes up.

New York has its most progressive and (dare I say) charming mayor, also first democratic socialist, Muslim, South Asian, and youngest (in a century). Closer to us, Detroit has its first woman mayor.

I got my first plant catalog in the mail--surely, it must mean Spring is coming? I bought myself some potted daffodils at Trader Joe's yesterday to pretend, anyway.

There was SUNSHINE and so many rainbows from my new rainbow maker.

And at the neighbors' open house today, I got to catch up and felt more like the social me than I've felt in a long time. (Last night, Big A was at work, Nu had friends over, and I rang in the new year with Max + Huck and family on the phone.)

Pic: Here's Max in freshly fallen snow. He's so delirious and zoom-y, that when I say I'm going to catch him, he runs TOWARDS me.  

Onward!

Yes, it's snowing, but you know what--Max loves the snow! And the way he lifts his head in wonder to look at the sky and then races around in jubilation... it makes me want to catch him and squeeze him tight and thank the world for all its wonders.  

Also wonderful--realizing with relief that what I took to be two spots of fungal infection on my arm are just the marks from my Covid and flu shots from last week. 

Here's to entering 2026 with good health, good cheer, peace, and success, everyone! 💗

Pic: Our holiday card, sans the sappy message I had printed on the back.

the unwrapping/unraveling

I'm so grateful for your kindnesses. 

Sorry for being such a whiny ass B yesterday. In my defense, it was a lot at once. A reset is in order.

In the great Christmas unwrapping, my favorites were the book plates so I can really pretend (ha) to be a librarian, and a rainbow maker (it was a "nostalgia present" because I'd given At one when she was a kid and ended up enjoying it more than At had).

At, Nu, and I opened up Amma's suitcase before our Christmas afternoon nap. I'd brought that suitcase back from Bangalore in September and left it in the garage.When we brought it in this week... I realized it was locked... and I had no idea where I had put the key. I remember threading it through the ring of a purse but that was many moons ago, and I don't remember which purse that was. We ended up breaking the (tiny) lock with a hammer. I have saris for a lifetime. The kids didn't want a thing. 

Another thing to unwrap arrived right before Christmas, but I didn't have time until after... Final proofs of the book! The previous proofs looked like a Word document. This one looks like a book! I dedicated the book to Amma.

Pic: I've been giving myself lots of extra time for things since September, and have not been too tough on myself. But I plan to reset starting Monday so I can go into the new year with a fresh mindset. I"m not sure this resolution generator here is it :), but I have a few ideas. 

Post Christmas Crash: "stop crying your heart out"

We used to listen to this Oasis song when At was a toddler and then it popped up on the playlist today when we were ferrying stuff At was taking to donate to the thrift store/ put into storage in our basement preparatory to moving to Chicago TOMORROW. I knew she meant to move at the end of the month, but I didn't know it was going to be so soon. (Only two or three days sooner than I expected, but it seemed to make a big difference today.) 

And then tears were rolling down my face and I was trying to brush them away as I was driving and At was ruefully petting my arm and saying, "Mama, you're not doing what the song is telling you to do" (i.e., "stop crying my heart out.") That made me smile a bit. Then she helpfully noted that we've never lived this far apart before upon which I started crying again. 

And some stuff going into storage were picket signs for a cause At had poured years of work into and had come to naught and some stuff going to the thrift store was stuff I had agonized over and spent a way too much money getting for her. Plus our Flu and Covid shots hurt and made me bleed. And I haven't heard this song in years, and "all of the stars are fading away" made me think of my mom, and every thing has the potential to make me sad today. 

[I know this is the right move for At, and that Chicago is not that far away, and we'll talk, chat, and FaceTime, and all that... But this feels huge and uncharted. Plus there are all sorts of other risks in Chicago now for a brown person like At.]

Pic: The nonchalant snowperson from earlier this week, whom I termed my patronus, is a melty, deflated mess. They feel like today's patronus.

Christmas Chaos

I hope everyone's Christmas was happy. 

Our Christmas was.

Little went according to plan. Big A had a terrible cold, At had bad allergies, Nu was t-i-r-e-d, my back was shot... 

But we fell into our old Christmas patterns, talked about how much Scout loved Christmas, the food turned out great, everyone loved their presents.

At is leaving for Chicago on Saturday. So tomorrow one more present--flu and Covid shots.

Pic: Max and Huck are helping Nu and At open stocking gifts. 

snowy shrug

Pic: L's snowman is my current patronus ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

I managed to design+order+address+sign+sendoff holiday cards. Somewhat casually in keeping with the ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ mode, but still.

I usually agonize over every small decision and have the whole family vet proofs. But this year, I did it around 3 am unilaterally and ordered prints from... the local pharmacy. I decided to mail the cards out today, and didn't let the fact that we didn't have holiday stamps stop me--I used every different kind of stamp we had at hand. We were out of address labels too, so I doctored and used the free labels a couple of organizations had sent me as a thank you for donations. I don't think family and friends will mind or fault me.

Then I rewarded myself. 

I don't seem able to handle Christmas lights or Solstice parties, yet... but I'm off to OM's place in Grand Rapids for a sleepover. We plan to watch Homebound and  Champagne Problems (the latter recommended by J!)

Oh, I also sent off a new chapter proposal this morning, and the editor found it "exciting." Very early stages; fingers crossed.

dearly beloved...

One of my besties sent me an "Emotional Support Prince" doll  who's holding a sign that reminds me that we're here to get through this thing called life. What is really says to me of course, is that we should go crazy and reminds me that we shouldn't let the elevator bring us down (maybe we take the stairs?). Ha.

Happy Solstice! Although we didn't mark it this year, I'm so grateful that the days will get longer... I'll cherish every extra glimmer of light.

And in India it's my uncle's birthday. (I actually get my love for Prince from him!) My mom openly and unashamedly loved her only brother more than she did any of her three sisters and he in turn doted on his nieces (us), so today is a special day. I'm extra proud of him this year. At 74, he's just finished law school this semester. He said he got so annoyed with his lawyers who wouldn't take his advice on his real estate cases so he decided to go to school so he could represent himself! Not sure if that's optimal, but I'm in awe of his gumption and imagination. Needless to say, his classmates adored him. 

Pic: A close up of my Emotional Support Prince, who's sitting in our Christmas tree for now. 

not a sparkly post

My sweet sister has been breaking my heart on the regular. This morning, we both just sat in silence at a loss for words on how to comfort each other. 

The other day she said she was more worried for me because I'm the "sensitive one" and all of this is probably more difficult for me (she's the younger one!). 

She's making a trip to a temple this weekend because she said her wish about Amma was granted. (?????) What wish, I asked in confusion. She said: "Like a fool, I asked that Amma be released from the ICU since she hated being in there by herself... and a promise is a promise." 

I told her I'd be taking the deity to task for doing such a bad job. Yes, you were supposed to release mom from the ICU... and keep her healthy. 

This sent me on a tangent about how my mom loved (and taught me to love) the poems of the 17th century Bhakti poet Ramadas (a pen name, which translates to "Rama's devotee"). He famously embezzled money from his (Muslim Sultan) employer to refurbish a Rama temple, was caught, thrown in jail, and then wrote a lot of angry poetry to the God Rama scolding him for his inability to rescue him. 

One famous and irreverent poem called "Ishvaku kula tilaka" reminds Rama of the many pieces of jewelry Ramadas bought for him with his embezzled monies and asks Rama--"What? Did you forget? Do you think your dad bought all that for you?" lol. So rude! It's actually in a tradition called Ninda Stuti, where the devotee assumes a familiar relationship and goads the deity before seeking deliverance. But that's totally what I would be doing... 

My mom would have thought this was hilarious. We would have sung "Ishvaku Kula Tilaka" together and then followed it up with "Palluke Bangaramayena" (Can't you reply? Have your words become as precious as gold?).

Back... with some secrets

We made it back ok! We even enjoyed our surprise road trip. Things could have gone wrong, but they didn't. StephLove recently asked how Big A's health was, and I actually had to stop and think about it. While my mom was in the ICU, Big A was making trips to the E.R. as a patient with unexplained FUOs and then... we just stopped going as the fevers faded. No diagnosis or explanation, but I'm grateful things didn't go wrong-er. 

We returned to a full house. Nu was back from the week they'd spent volunteering with St. Jude's in Memphis, At had spent the weekend at home taking care of the puppy sibs, and homecoming was loud and loving. The kids brought the tree up from the basement, and we're officially in holiday mode now.

Secrets: I didn't buy a single thing in New York. (Like not a single keepsake or souvenir or even any presents for the kids.) 

Big A and I did our usual thing at the beginning of our weekend where we seriously contemplated moving to NYC after retirement and then scrapping it as we realized afresh that we'd have to give up too much to be able to live even half as well.

I think we're going to do tinsel wigs for the holiday card this year. 

And in the laziest hack ever, our tree goes into storage completely dressed, so all we do at holiday time is unzip the tree cover and plug in the light cord. 

Pics: Nu's photo of At, Max, and me with our freshly decorated  uncovered Christmas tree.

the reckoning

A lovely last day in the city where we met and fell in love two decades ago.

Es Devlin's Congregation at the Perlman Center (poetic) , the Ruth Asawa retrospective at MoMA (brilliantly wintery) and a leisurely linner at a hole-in-the-wall Thai restaurant where my curry had all the coconut milk I craved and my papaya salad was liberally laced with chillies. 

Presumably because of the tiny snow storm, our flight home kept getting delayed... from 7 to 9 to 10 to 11. And went through a similar number of gate changes. I guess we can't say we were taken by surprise when our flight got canceled. 

There are no other direct flights until tomorrow, and Big A has to work Monday night, so we're going to rent a car and drive through the night to make it home. 

Pic: A glimpse of Congregation.