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. 

all is calm

...before the Christmas storm. 

Max and Huck approve.

Tonight the kids get their pajamas and books so we can curl up with hot cocoa.

I've been reading to Max and Huck lately... like At and Nu before them, they really seem to like Open Me, I'm a Dog  by Art Spiegelman (he wrote Maus.)

another que sera, sera

* I compiled all the wonderful comments about my uncle and shared it with him. At first he tried to play it off and told me that I should have told everyone he got a law degree just to argue with my aunt (HaHa). But he LOVED it, and invited everyone to his "grand party" when he's enrolled to the bar (May/June 2026). I'm tentatively planning to go and would happily take anyone else who wants to go with!

* Did the annual review of subscriptions, donations, and bonuses. (Jeanie, I did not forget WKAR!) And I quadrupled what we gave our sanitation worker last year. Not only were they so upright about things, they parked our trash bin inside our gates every single week!

* [Sorry this is whiny.] I thought my back was sore, and that it would get better. I thought this three days ago. It has NOT been getting better. Much worse, actually. I'd say pain scale of 6-7? It was so bad I took an ibuprofen today. I'm going to have to ask people to help me do so many things tomorrow.

* I'm all done with cards, decorating, baking, presents, holiday bonuses, and food prepping. It's Christmas Eve Eve. Deep breath! It's like putting on a show, no?

* Pic: I sat on the stairs for a few minutes in stillness taking in the tree. (I like knowing that two green clothespins hold the star upright and that I made the tree collar this year from an old lampshade I found at the thrift store.)

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. 

yes, there is a holiday card

I wasn't sure what I was going to do about the holidays... I didn't celebrate Diwali this year--it was too soon after Amma's funeral. 

But Christmas wasn't a holiday I typically celebrated with her, so I thought I'd be ok. But no, it has been brutal. After I came back from NYC, I don't really know what happened between Monday and Friday? 

And now Christmas is less than a week away. Or a few days away.

I didn't feel putting together a family holiday card this year, but last week I realized that this was the last year my mom could be on one (grandparents and sibs are usually on our holiday cards) so I had to make one. And mom loved our dress-up shenanigans, so I ordered us some tinsel wigs.

Pic: The best we could do. Max was very offended by the idea of wearing a wig. And did A (behind me) not know his face was completely obscured? We were already late for trivia night and friends were waiting, so there were no retakes.

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.

mild disappointments

Today was series of mild disappointments, the kind that happen when you're too hyped up for something. 

The show that was critically acclaimed and came so highly recommended was... alright. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't terrific. Liberation takes place in Ohio in the 1970s around a group of feminists, and Big A who grew up in Ohio in the 1970s surrounded by his mom and other feminists found it rather underwhelming. Same (despite my differing biography). I really loved the mini series Mrs. America (Hulu, I think) and expected something with that level of punch.

The friend I was so looking forward to meeting... I couldn't wait to get away from them. I seemed to get on their nerves no matter what I said. There's a lot of love between us, but they seemed to be able to see secret agendas in a lot of what I said and did. And that was exhausting. (I didn't have any secret agendas.)

Dinner was at an upscale Thai place (Chalong), and it was good, but I love regular Thai food just fine, I guess? Big A told me that the Thai government actively promotes Thai restaurants worldwide as part of their "gastrodiplomacy" program. Wild.

Pic: Our Liberation  playbills and the beginning of a baby snow storm.

in NYC

Left home at 3:30 am this morning for a weekend trip to NYC with Big A. 

I tend to give away a lot of our extra cash to GoFundMes and buying groceries for internet strangers, and Big A who makes way more than I do lets me do what I want, so when he wants to live large once in a while, I play along. 

Here we are at Le Benardin, eating plates of perfectly arranged art, having possibly the best meal of our lives... (and definitely the most expensive). 

There was a bisque with tarragon foam that I will dream about forever. And it's time for me to wonder again why I don't use things like parsnips and tarragon more frequently in my cooking. (I only seem to use parsnips at Thanksgiving and tarragon on summer rolls.)

unexpected glimmers

"I can't find you... ARE YOU UPSTAIRS SLEEPING IN MY BED?" L texted halfway through the evening, making me giggle. 

Actually, I'd left her holiday party early, and Big had brought me back home because I'd started some story and was going to cry. But before that I had a really great time. 

J's very timely post on how to survive the holiday season and the one Nicole directed me to on Cup of Jo came in useful!

And look, the hyacinths I randomly stuck into various planters are beginning to show... This one by my reading chair announced itself through its fragrance and then I saw its precious pink candy stripes.

Also, Max, Maxie, Max-a-Million, my late-in-life, baby is underfoot, curious, and with me everywhere.

lines by heart

everyone comes in crying
and they slap you into it if not
everyone should fade away 
held soft in love and memories

so time comes forward

like the very next verse in a song 

a wormhole to eternity

narrating the next up tempo jump 

you're a child carried to bed:

dim room, steady hands, hushed love

safe now to dream of eternity

as we're all right here in the next room

_______________

Note: Three months today. I'm struggling a lot--with grief--but also trying to understand the finality of it all, the seemingly meaningless trick--where did they go? 

Nance described something similar reading obituaries in the wake of her father's death, "I'd read them, look at the photos, and feel a sense of real awe and loss that This Was A Person Who Was No Longer Here." 

I think I'm trying to figure it out... Like what is this cosmology and can I speak it into being? 

______________

Pic: An icy Red Cedar and lots of intrepid ducks with Big A.

some noes

I would have been miserable as a lawyer. I had to do lawyer-like things today in my role as a CASA and also in my role as a Title IX advisor on campus, and while they were necessary things, I felt quite unhappy doing them. It reminded me a bit of what our realtor JS said. He used to be a cop and said he liked being a realtor because when he was a cop, 90% of his interactions with people were negative and as a realtor, it was the inverse. 

*

I had a good time at the thrift store (I found some great copies of some fairly recent books) but somehow managed to forget the one thing I actually went in there for... an old lampshade I plan to use as a collar for our Christmas tree.

*

Speaking of which, no--our tree isn't up. I took Thanksgiving down just this past weekend, and I like a little palate cleanser... all the better to savor Christmas decorations. (Also, the kids won't be here until mid December, which is when the tree will come up from the basement. Hallelujah.)

Pic: I kind of did decorate for Thanksgiving! (And didn't do *anything* for Halloween.)

beyond thankful

Today is At's Boss Day.  

And it made her so happy to hear that Big A's favorite photo from Thanksgiving was this one of At on the sofa with the puppies, because it is so reminiscent of that whole genre of paintings from the 19th century, where women are reclining luxuriously on sofas while reading with pets--except this one is updated for the 21st century by At reading on her phone.

I mean... it's nice, I suppose, to be compared to a fancy lady in a painting... But also, while Big A's love was never in question, he used to brag a lot about "my boy" and found At's transition tough, so this compliment meant a lot to At.

And a shoutout to whatever art appreciation course Big A took in college. Some of it may come from his artist grandparents and mom, but his art references frequently have me looking stuff up.
_______________
ALSO, THANK YOU FOR READING!! It's going to take me a minute to get through the comments...

time zones

another day rolls over 

into tomorrow

I wake, roll over in bed 

reach for my phone

                                            wondering if my mother 

                                             texted me in the night--

                                             it happens a lot as we're

                                             in different time zones 

                                             

then the screen flickers    

my brain reboots

and the past three months

come charging back

                                             and I... remember why 

                                             she doesn't text

                                             and why she can't call

                                             still most days 

I will catch myself 

"saving things" 

for our nightly chats 

although she died 

                                            nearly three months ago...

                                            but when I listen  

                                            to her old voicemails

                                            her voice starlit

gathering warmth and love

I wonder what if 

what if

what if

the past is just another kind 

of time zone

__________________

Pic: Nu's pic of me, Max, and Huck napping. I guess I'm happy when I'm asleep? I love how Max sticks his tongue out when he's happy. (The plates of half-eaten food everywhere are Nu's thing while they're home on Thanksgiving break.)

ruh-roh! I have a broken toe

I mean I knew, but now it's official. I have a broken toe. 

Except now it's being taken seriously and I have an appointment with a podiatrist and a boot. The boot is cumbersome, but it compresses the top of my foot and that feels so good. It would have been seriously helpful if I had gotten it two weeks ago when my foot was all swollen, puffy, and about thrice as painful. Well, now I know better.  

The nurse practitioner has prescribed me some pain medications to pick up at the pharmacy. I didn't tell her I did not even take OTC pain meds all this while.

I'm usually pretty wimpy with discomfort and pain. But at this point, the physical pain seems merely a distant echo of the psychic pain. 

Pic: My photo of the x-ray. My foot looks so weird!

field notes

I wear echoes

ragged through the city

when we talk

I talk only of childhood

I dream we dig

as if we know this earth 

and can't say why 

I wait to be turned back

they're all saying 

that leaving is necessary

they don't know 

I will never say goodbye 

_________

Pic: Red Cedar yesterday with Big A. At the start of our walk, it was tough getting my taped-up right foot into my sneaker. That made A say we should go to Urgent Care instead of on a walk, but I really needed a walk for my wellbeing. If my foot's broken, it has already been broken for over ten days, so what would another day matter anyway?

post Friendsgiving post

While I was puttering around, putting things away after dinner, I found these three (At, Huck, and Max) all cozied up...

At told me she's moving to Chicago at the end of year. 

"At the end of the year," so there's some time, I thought. Before realizing that it's already the end of November. 

I'm happy for her as she's outgrown Lansing. And she was supposed to move to Seattle this year before all the tragedies happened. And Chicago is much closer. But it will mean that our impromptu trips and hangs are numbered.

Nu who was napping elsewhere when I took this pic watched the Lilith Fair documentary with me. I watched it earlier this month and LOVED IT SO MUCH. I laughed, I cried, I goosebumped up, I texted people about it, I was inspired... When I say something is feminist, this is what I want it to mean--not merely that it's women-centered, but that it is anti-patriarchal. That it is about people who support each other, that they offer opportunities to groups who are typically shut out, that they make childcare and family healthcare available, that they listen to critique (for instance, that black women artists are underrepresented) without getting defensive and work to fix it, that there is confidence being in such a space that racists and homophobes are unwelcome. 

Nu and I were looking at each other all starry-eyed, wishing we could go to one...

T for Thanksgiving!

I like how our additional table (build a longer table is my guiding motto), turns our seating into a T for Thanksgiving!

(Although I want to call it Friendsgiving or Thanksloving or something else entirely to avoid celebrating colonial narrative... even as I acknowledge the aspect of gratitude... anyway...)