the waiting game

Just waiting to go home to Scout and I'm in that space where everything feels surreal, and other people seem alien.

All I've done today is cry a lot and wish for the day to pass quickly. It didn't, but no matter how slowly... time passes.

At the airport now, waiting to board the flight, which is delayed--but not by much. Fingers crossed.

stuck in Denver...

Big A is with Scout at the E.R. because my baby is not doing well. They see a lot of fluid they think is blood in his ultrasound and... it doesn't look good.

Over the last couple of years, Scout has run into health problems and I've involuntarily imagined the end. In none of those scenarios did I ever imagine that I wouldn't be right there with him. 

I'm scheduled to leave for home at midnight tomorrow. And there are no other available flights that get me in earlier...

I don't know how I'm going to get through the next 36 hours before I see Scout. I hope I see Scout. 

Pic: From the walkway bridge inside the hotel when I didn't know Scout was declining.

2016 redux: good bones, breaking news

You've surely read Maggie Smith's poem "Good Bones," which went viral in 2016 and you should read the article she published in The Cut yesterday about how her fame led to the breakdown of her marriage. Her ex sounds like a dick--any marriage in which one spouse becomes "the staff" in the household is deeply unjust and unloving.

That aside, I was distracted by her declaration that "When I walked in the door, I was married. Mrs. When I walked outside, I was divorced. Ms." This isn't the point of the article, but where does this belief that "Ms." is for divorced women come from? I thought the whole damn point of "Ms." was to move away from the marriage specificity of "Miss" and "Mrs." I was a "Ms."since I was 14? 15? Currently, I like"Mx" best of all.

I'm in Denver with our English honorary students who are presenting at the annual international convention. At and Big A are home to make sure Nu has some fun on their Spring Break. They're having sleepovers and going to movies and I'm missing them and missing out.

Pic: The kids sent me this candid of Big A at the moment he found out about Trump being indicted for the 2016 hush money payment. Has any photo demonstrated more "fuck around and you'll find out" energy?

the mom who changed

I'm older, my mom is old... and I've mostly stopped trying to change her mind about stuff. We're both stubborn, we rarely persuade each other, and she gets pretty upset.

This morning she said something bigoted on the family chat, and I couldn't let it go. So I texted back some links about why she was wrong. She  texted back, cheekily, "Om Namo Namaha Lecture-ji" (vague translation: "I bow to you, respected lecturer").

I just giggled when I read that. I have no illusions that I changed her mind--but it does mean I got to see my mom deescalate a situation for what feels like the first time in my life.

by night and candlelight

I found this lovely Jeanette Winterson lifestyle quote yesterday, which got me reassessing dawn and dusk:

"I have noticed that when all the lights are on, people tend to talk about what they are doing–their outer lives. Sitting round in candlelight or firelight, people start to talk about how they are feeling–their inner lives... To sit alone without any electric light is curiously creative. I have my best ideas at dawn or at nightfall, but not if I switch on the lights...." (The entire thing, including some yummy food ideas, is here.)

I started today with a candlelight meditation... and look at me now, headed to bed before midnight like some fucking champion functioning adult.

Pic: A single lit votive brings glimmer to everyday objects. (The tiny, dried wildflowers I bought home from Las Ramblas last summer are a shot of joy every time I look at them. I remember how the vendor was so engrossed in his book, he didn't even look up as he pocketed the Euro I held out and handed this bunch over to me.)

best friends

Scout's still lagging. I've been told to keep an eye on him, so that's what I'm doing. He seems a bit better today, but I'm not sure if that's just me seeing what I want to see.

Anyway, I'm spending a lot of time daydreaming about my India trip in August and writing back all the school friends who remembered me on my birthday. And it got me thinking back to those intense friendships of girlhood where I'd spend all day passing notes in class and come home to talk for hours on the telephone to the same people. I really had nothing going on in my life then, so I can't even imagine what we talked about.

It blew my mind when I realized that SD my bestest friend through grades 6-10 (Holy Angels Convent) and NJ, my bestest friend in grades 10-12 (Sacred Heart School) have never met each other despite living in the same city... and the same neighborhood (Adayar) all these decades. How did that happen? When I told my sister this, she didn't think it was surprising at all. I guess when you live in a big city, your standards for accidental meetings are different. Also--I think new best friend and old best friend may have been somewhat wary of each other back then? We're all so much more mellow now... I'm wondering if I should introduce SD and NJ to each other after all these years this August or if the universe will implode in some way if I do.

Pic: Huck urging Scout--"hurry up, catch up!"

Spring things

Scout isn't feeling very well, so we went outside to work in the garden, because he likes to hang out with me there. And look! Hellebores are coming up around the pond. It definitely gave my heart a much-needed lift. 

But I think I'll call the vet tomorrow if Scout doesn't seem better. I just listened to a show where Karen Fine, who's promoting her new book The Other Family Doctor, talked about her life as a veterinarian--so I have the feeling "doesn't seem like himself" is a perfectly acceptable symptom.

At stopped by for family dinner, and I made Kothu Paratha, which is typically made from leftover parathas and curry... which we didn't have. So I made everything from scratch and now we have some tasty leftovers. 

While At was here, they got a text from Jaz Brisak for the first time and it was fun seeing them figure out what to text back without sounding too much like a stan. I think excitement was definitely warranted;  I mean, I was excited. Then At and I went for a long walk-and-talk in the springy drizzle. Lots of walking, lots of talking--until it got too wet and cold for me, and I caved and suggested we go inside. 

And that's the end of the weekend! But Nu is on Spring Break this week, so things should feel a little lighter.

Pic: Hellebores and little yellow pods I can't identify.