I'm sure Puerto Rico is more beautiful

...but all I've seen of it is the convention center where the conference is and the view of the bay (and the convention center) from my hotel window.

NWSA is usually my happy place, where I'm wildly social--partying every night, making appointments to meet different groups for every meal--but I had absolutely no energy this year. I could fake short spurts and then I'd go veg at a talk or by myself in my room. 

I got elected Caucus chair last evening and then texted Big A that I was having the worst time ever and went to sleep. Apparently he texted me near midnight and then a couple of times after that. Then he proceeded to get worried when I didn't respond and called me around 3 am... I know I have a reputation for bad sleep habits, but surely I'm allowed to deviate once in a while?

Can't wait to head home today.

Pic: Sunrise from my hotel room window.

cap-ability

Despite how melancholy I've been at NWSA this year, I managed to take our annual "Madras Madcap" photos with dear SR. 

  

We were just acquaintances when we started, but we're super close now.

(Her mother had been ailing for years and we both lost our mothers within weeks of each other--I didn't expect us to twin in this.)

Here we are through the years!

what I'm actually here for

Haven't ventured outside of the hotel+convention center yet...

But I managed to deliver my paper "Tell Me Where It Hurts: Dis-ease, (Dis)Embodiment, and the Body Politic in Jhumpa Lahiri's Roman Stories" well to a packed room (and got an offer to have it anthologized after Q&A) so that part was good.

Pic: Nevermind what's going on with my hair.
 

here, I guess

This is the only travel I'd anticipated and planned for this semester--my annual trip to the NWSA. All the other trips happened because of tragedy or unexpected success. Anyway.

Big A was working last night, and my direct flight to Puerto Rico from Detroit took off early, so I walked to the airport shuttle (Lansing to Detroit) at 4 am with my luggage (just a backpack, no worries).

Pic: "Home" for the next three nights... I guess that Paris hotel room spoiled me, because I texted "where is the hammock?" to the family chat.

kindness continues

as do I

perhaps that how I continue.

When I checked in with my sister, we realized that both of us have been struggling with physical manifestations of our grief...

She has migraines

I have nausea every day

Pic: I opened my office door to another kind card today.
 

umm..

Well, this was unexpected...

Not if you'd been paying attention to the weather forecast, of course...

But I've been in my own head a lot lately.

Deadlines and projects seem to be multiplying, so I sat and wrote them all down to figure out how I'm going to get them all done.

one at a time, naturally...

Pic: I can't deny how beautiful the backyard looks.

distraction central

Max, Big A, and Huck are all wrestling at my feet and it makes it very difficult to get grading done... 

an echo without a wall

here, speak  to  Amma

my sister offers, holding 

out  the hair dryer to me

I gently receive the device

lift aside the strands of hair

caught in its grill, delicately

I set the roaring  machine

to my ear  where it  begins 

to angrily melt my earrings

at first I can't hear my mother

--speak a little louder--I beg

even as I feel bad for asking

as  she  sounds so, so  tired 

and  now she's  complaining

about how she forgot to bring 

any money with her

don't you remember this moment?

we are kneeling

at a cliff's edge

      in prayer 

      or defeat

rocks enthroned

trees congregate

      benumbed

      or tranquil

there you are born

dropping headfirst

      like a diver

      into life

your body, landscape

your cries a chorus

      all longing

      and love

__________

Pic: E.M.'s post-dinner pic of Max and Huck.

I will always be writing this poem

it may take years and years 
to tell me the world

but I am stubborn 

I am shocked in sections

to realize my mother 

open as a shadow 

in the middle of this life

I find myself lying

flat, face down 

following how my anger

gets lost late at night  

in family elegy

remembering two months

fractured from the hard symmetry of days

from the moment I open my eyes

 aware of every treachery of light

of going away, of disappearing

on rivers of  might  have been 

and what can never be again 

I beg mercy of shadows 

who, too, flee 

from me 

_____

Pic: A full moon tonight.