not a solution

I've been breaking down about every tiny thing and everywhere, so Big A suggested I should apply to take the rest of the semester off work. 

I don't think that's a possibility...

1) H.R. won't go for it--I've seen colleagues work through bereavement, having cancer treatment, babies etc.

2) The classroom is the place where I feel most "normal" right now.

3) I can imagine what I'll be thinking about with all that "extra" time? OMG.

nice day for...*

Today was a nice day for an "Alternative Break." I'd always promised myself that I'd go on these service breaks with a group from the college when I was an empty nester.

It felt very therapeutic to throw myself into using my body to lug things to fill two forty-foot dumpsters for the Habitat for Humanity ReStore. I thought a lot of the stuff that went to the landfill today could be reused, but the people at the store had already had it for a while and needed to make room. They know what's best for them, so I just did what I was asked to do.

At lunch, one of the students referred to my recent India trip and asked how I was doing. I hadn't mentioned anything to this group, so I asked how they knew. Turns out they know a student in one of my classes. I wonder if I've been a little "off" for that student to mention it to other people.

Also, I met a volunteer at the store who had been in the Peace Corps in the 1960s (and she's still volunteering!). She'd served in India so we talked a while about all the ways in which things have changed (not for the better). She said she'd just read and loved the new Kiran Desai The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny, which I'd planned to read, because I loved Desai's last novel (was it really nearly 20 years ago?). So I came home and started on that right away.

Pic: A brilliant sky and the practical backlot at the Habitat gig today.

*I can't hear "nice day for..." without Billy Idol snarling "White Wedding" in my head every time!

continuing difficult

Diane Keaton's death this weekend. Her dates (1946-2025) are exactly Amma's. I won't watch The Family Stone this Christmas. 

Dropping Nu off at their dorm this morning. It was so easy to get used to Nu's energy around the house again. Nu and I carried their new dorm fridge to their room. And... I offered to clean their room/hire someone to clean their room. Nope. Well, I offered anyway.

For some reason all the roadkill got to me today. All these deer and raccoons just randomly mowed down. I hit a deer three years ago, so I know it's sudden and unavoidable and no one is going around trying to get these creatures. But seeing so many dead, their insides emptied out, was more than I could handle today.

I wish I hadn't read The Seven Moons of Maali Almeida, in which the afterlife is full of demons and hungry malicious ghosts. The afterlife should be a peaceful reunification with the universe.

the big ones

"If you kept the small rules, you could break the big ones." 1984 George Orwell

we're united in the day and earth

is dreaming

do whatever it is you want to do 

be quick 

even if your train of thought goes

off track

you're just supposed to know how

"stay calm"

seasons fade in Sunday's sunlight 

so what

even our shifting stars and stories

are no use

I understand what you hold on for 

--dear life

but the question is what we do 

what do we do

when so many of us haven't

died yet

____________

Pic: Ducks making ripples on The Red Cedar.

brand new adult

Not a clear photo, but in the background Nu is laughing their head off and At is grinning. It reminds me of a birthday dinner filled with hi-jinks, ridiculous rules (no kissing! three kinds of potatoes for the table!), and unlooked for consequences (silly dances and jalapeno drinks and Max barfing possibly in response to Nu's bad flute-playing).

I'm glad I was able to make space to make joy before Nu headed out with friends for the rest of the evening. 

On their very first day on earth, the pediatric nurse pronounced Nu "an old soul." 

 They're now a full-fledged adult.

It still seems wild.

changing gears

It's Nu's birthday tomorrow. Nu's 18th birthday! And I woke up this morning determined to change gears. 

Actually, I woke up late this morning, having slept through my alarm for the first time in decades. Still I used the the 28 minutes I had to shower and get ready, used the hour commute to mentally prep myself, and was on time for my 8 am meeting. 

And then when I casually checked my email near the end of the meeting, I saw there was a gift card for Nu from my parents and I could barely keep it together. I wonder how far into the future my mom has arranged things...

Later, someone asked me if I had allergies. Yes, I'm allergic to sorrow.

But... Nu is home for the weekend! We've already had one requested dinner (sushi), cut one cake (pumpkin cheesecake), and done the birthday dec. 

I can't believe it has been 18 years since Big A and I walked hand-in-hand down 1st Ave to the NYU hospital where he worked as a resident, only this time it was for me to get admitted so I could get induced and we could finally meet Nu. (Like At, who was spending that night with Cousin P, Nu was about ten days over the estimated delivery date too).

Pic: Max and Huck are delirious with happiness that Nu's here. I am too.

wild, sad, and serious

I thought I'd come to the idea that walking would help me dull my pain on my own... I realize now it may have come from Cheryl Strayed's Wild, which I devoured in a single afternoon one summer. Hiking the Pacific Crest Trail is her formula for dealing with mother-loss and grief.

I should be sadder. I would be if I didn't keep forgetting that it really happened. Every time I remember, it still feels unreal. It was mom's "Boss Day" yesterday, and I could barely get through it. It felt real again and again because I couldn't call her.

I'm so relieved that there is some semblance of a ceasefire in Gaza (Doctors Without Borders reported they're still hearing bombing). Amidst the hope for healing, I keep thinking about the the nearly 60,000 children who have lost parents and how it must feel to experience that loss so violently and so young.

At stopped by--it was SLE's birthday and At needed her mom. I suggested we celebrate SLE and we talked so much about SLE we both had a good cry... and then we went to the temple with an offering of fruit, flowers, and silks just for something formal to do. At had been disinvited to the funeral by SLE's family, so I keep suggesting At and her friends need to do something to honor SLE in a way she would have enjoyed. (I know so many rites now since Amma's funeral.)

Pic: Why so serious, sweet Max? (Because Dad made him wear his glasses.)

better not be kidding

Beckett says, "the creation of the world 

did not take place once and for all time 

but takes place every day."

O please tell me the world 

O pause the day

I must mean something too, I think

on days I telescope into

myself or memory 

coming into the wounds through 

which the words become 

somewhere are places bright and

in my head, a graveyard bigger

than the city it lives in

see, I really mean no harm

I say, climbing... down 

________

Pic: A few miles down the Bright Angel Trail; I am (and my shadow is) about three feet from the edge--and somehow, that's ok; any closer, and I'd freak out. We're back, BTW. I'm just still thinking about it.

unmapped

now that the world is descent 

the canyon floor 

joins me there as it happens

my favorite part of the future 

when waking is

an adventure, pulsing like stars

eager as her birth month of May

my vigil climbs

this mystery of mom missing

hymning words I can neither 

say nor sing, loving 

now my only way of knowing 

_________________

Pic: Holding on to a tree for dear life, the south rim of the Grand Canyon behind me. We hiked the entire South rim with only one tiny freakout when a 6000 ft drop lay two feet too close in front of me. I realized the trail was too narrow in parts (for me, anyway), so I opted to hike on the road and join back when the trail broadened again. 

a poem and an unrelated pic

JG sent this sweet, sad poem she wrote for me:

Tending
You were in my dream last night,
Sister of my heart.
I could not touch
your beautiful sadness,
could not carry
the weight of
your mother’s absence--
heavier than a suitcase of saris--
could only witness
the pain that seared you,
and see her light
within you.
_______________________
 Pic: Big A and me at the lip of the Bright Angel Trail, with The Grand Canyon behind us. My arm behind Big A is not holding him, it's holding the railing. We went on to descend about 3.5 miles in. It took us an hour and half on the way down and roughly twice that to climb back up. There were points along the way when I'd look up the trail and people seemed so far up, it felt like I'd never make it up there... but eventually I would pass there too...

one month in

Somehow... and I want to say "suddenly" it has been a month since I got that call from my sister: "Akka, Amma passed away this morning."

There have been lifetimes compressed into this month, journeys that would usually be planned for months. Sadness and (what feels like) fibromyalgia pain and constant nausea won't leave me...

And yet, every morning when I wake up, I walk myself through a reminder that this thing happened... it's a doorway I will have to enter and exit all day. 

I keep saving things to tell her on our daily chats/calls... I hear the quirky things she says in my head all the time... and honestly, I still feel very loved by my mom.

Pic: I added mom's mangalsutras to my own wedding necklace. I rarely wear mine; you can tell mom wore hers every second of her fifty-six years of marriage. (Usually, the Telugu wedding necklace has two of the disc-shaped lockets--one from the bride's parents and one from the groom's. In my mom's case while her parents gave her the typical Telugu pottu, my dad's family gave her the M-shaped Tamil thali. Although they too are Telugu, the Wandawasis have a tradition of wearing the Tamil-style thali to honor the Tamil family who fostered the heir who had been smuggled out of the Wandawasi fort when it was besieged by the British.)