tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-206917402024-03-17T03:00:32.069-07:00Exiled In ToylandUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger965125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20691740.post-31265531789643812802024-03-17T03:00:00.000-07:002024-03-17T03:00:00.259-07:00Car talk<p> While she packs the car, I check the weather. Though it won't change our path any, my heart is lighter knowing we won’t have to contend with snow or rain. </p><p>Spring break seemed to sneak up on us this year, and now it’s over. </p><p>At least it is over for our college student.</p><p>The days off from her school never align with the days her brother receives from her old alma mater, still, we manage to make the most of her time.</p><p>We binged on her presence. From family meals to family marathons in front of the television, watching all of the one-hour shows that she’s denied herself until we could all sit side-by-side on the same couch. </p><p>Her life, she notes not unhappily, resembles the outward contours of adulthood. </p><p>She has done all the dutiful things time doesn’t permit during her regular semester. She’s scheduled appointments with doctors and dentists. She’s managed to squeeze in a shift or two of waiting tables to free up some extra income. She meets up with a friend, and takes her brother to school, just like in the old days when she was a kid. </p><p>This time is such a gift. Each minute is precious for its rarity, though I must admit I have not conferred the mantle of adulthood to my firstborn, most likely because our first moments together feel more like recent memory than ancient history. </p><p>I pull out of the driveway and turn right. I follow instructions the map reader calls out, though I think I have driven the route enough times to remember. But I may never put trust in myself when technology so freely offers the comfort of assurity.</p><p>No one likes getting lost except in thought or conversation. Neither of which I would expect as we make this commute.</p><p>Especially once she asks if she can play music. </p><p>I imagine our conversation will ebb now. I will ask “Who’s singing,” and she will answer a name I do not recognize nor can retain long enough in my memory to retrieve if the song shuffles back within the hour. </p><p>Soon, I was surprised to be wrong. The volume stays low while she directs lines of thought my way. </p><p>Each thought intersects another, knitting the strands of news, secrets, and ideas into a nubbly cloth. Overall, I feel the warmth of her trust. </p><p>I’d like to tell her, but she starts another ride down memory lane. We are back in the car, me driving while she and two friends in the back seat dish about about their lives.</p><p>They speak as if we are not merely divided by a generation or two but by an invisible soundproof partition.</p><p>Oh, how I love the commute. How a car can’t seem to contain or corral any particular audience. </p><p>Hours pass like minutes. </p><p>By the time we arrive at our destination, we are quiet. I circle the block and cross my fingers, hoping the parking gods will smile down on me so that time can stand still long enough for me to help her ferry bags of books and clean laundry up five flights to her dorm room.</p><p>Alas, I must double park and wait for her to complete the circuit twice so as not to risk the inconvenience of a tow.</p><p>Finally, she is back and ready for hugs and “see ya next time.”</p><p>She knows how much I hate goodbyes. </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20691740.post-49815084197347314012024-03-10T04:50:00.000-07:002024-03-10T04:50:00.146-07:00Keeping women in the picture<p><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br /></span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /></span></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: #444444; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">In the big picture, we want to take maternal health seriously. We want to minimize harm to our nation’s pregnant and postpartum patients. And through laws like Paid Family and Medical Leave, we have helped to ensure parents can afford to welcome and care for the new lives they labor into the world.</span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /></span></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: #444444; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">But what happens when that picture never develops? </span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /></span></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: #444444; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">For women like Cassidy Perrone, who delivered her daughter, Olivia, stillborn in 2022, the tragedy is compounded by flaws in the system designed to support them as they recover and try to care for themselves and their families. </span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /></span></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: #444444; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">Perrone, the primary breadwinner, learned after the birth that she was ineligible for Paid Family Leave. </span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /></span></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: #444444; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">In New York pregnant people who experience stillbirth are currently excluded from receiving Paid Family Leave (PFL), despite their partners being eligible. In some instances having their approved cases revoked after they suffer a fetal loss.</span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /></span></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">This is why </span><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://link.mediaoutreach.meltwater.com/ls/click?upn%3Du001.oroaUsx8ELJQHYj2vpAbTzmQqtVYQ1-2BixROCwPJok2Nzo7aS2RsFy3HSTM7ku6uawH9p_ezLIaLRN2qIGkyO8mNOaOT5OUOA3AqeiK4Awm9HMY-2FARbkxFWJo6nDhJGBDnaIWefJCt3WqlXAGS5Kqe9p-2Fci9uKFVitYltCM0rG8r53bpoAM-2Fravhq9aTKWGrT-2FN8I7DCt1aMJqIHLdEFIQPAE5qg98pKQDB7p1qs1xOmNBKefDFBTKLyIrWjulzv-2B28JURA0tFrTAsuZinFiB6-2FalLMLAJ875nC3tnr6G5JqS9FsPZGhNasX7ywHGqkmJdCy4w1JHcuZFJaxWIgtYA425CRA-2Fbm1jKeOTiz4nIN2xZz1Yu7i-2FTTbNjITcxpP5fIc3PFVPCFrOiu9ehxeUEQ-2F3ajxoUfUTL9jkTc2QQLn4H8gqurzgnWYDBO-2F-2FEAm6Rt-2FBi&source=gmail&ust=1709988536353000&usg=AOvVaw2cgtz6HKNuiswBYmA2oQ7q" href="http://link.mediaoutreach.meltwater.com/ls/click?upn=u001.oroaUsx8ELJQHYj2vpAbTzmQqtVYQ1-2BixROCwPJok2Nzo7aS2RsFy3HSTM7ku6uawH9p_ezLIaLRN2qIGkyO8mNOaOT5OUOA3AqeiK4Awm9HMY-2FARbkxFWJo6nDhJGBDnaIWefJCt3WqlXAGS5Kqe9p-2Fci9uKFVitYltCM0rG8r53bpoAM-2Fravhq9aTKWGrT-2FN8I7DCt1aMJqIHLdEFIQPAE5qg98pKQDB7p1qs1xOmNBKefDFBTKLyIrWjulzv-2B28JURA0tFrTAsuZinFiB6-2FalLMLAJ875nC3tnr6G5JqS9FsPZGhNasX7ywHGqkmJdCy4w1JHcuZFJaxWIgtYA425CRA-2Fbm1jKeOTiz4nIN2xZz1Yu7i-2FTTbNjITcxpP5fIc3PFVPCFrOiu9ehxeUEQ-2F3ajxoUfUTL9jkTc2QQLn4H8gqurzgnWYDBO-2F-2FEAm6Rt-2FBi" style="text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">PUSH for Empowered Pregnancy (PUSH)</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">, a group of parents and medical providers advocating for those who have experienced stillbirth, is convening in Albany this coming week to call for legislation that would bring awareness to the need for more equity in how paid family and medical leave benefits are determined.</span></span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /></span></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: #444444; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">Since PFL is intended for bonding with new babies, caring for ill family members, or managing issues arising from military deployments, a postpartum patient who suffers stillbirth becomes ineligible to obtain PFL because they are no longer categorized as caregivers. Instead, postpartum patients must rely on Temporary Medical Disability Insurance, which pays considerably less as they recover. </span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /></span></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: #444444; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">In New York state, temporary disability offers roughly 50 percent of workers’ wages but caps the benefit at a legal maximum of $170. In comparison, PFL offers as much as 67 percent of the claimant’s usual wages.</span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /></span></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: #444444; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">The disparity, like all disparities in maternal health, disproportionately affects under-resourced families of color, who are more likely to be forced back to work during the most dangerous postpartum weeks.</span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /></span></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Women who experience stillbirth are also </span><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://link.mediaoutreach.meltwater.com/ls/click?upn%3Du001.oroaUsx8ELJQHYj2vpAbT8Zmuh56tChrwgXZxt9D2EiCK2RRmlscvcfAmIzmqjLWG57RwCn84g96VPi9jGYjNg-3D-3D_hP5_ezLIaLRN2qIGkyO8mNOaOT5OUOA3AqeiK4Awm9HMY-2FARbkxFWJo6nDhJGBDnaIWefJCt3WqlXAGS5Kqe9p-2Fci9uKFVitYltCM0rG8r53bpoAM-2Fravhq9aTKWGrT-2FN8I7DCt1aMJqIHLdEFIQPAE5qg98pKQDB7p1qs1xOmNBKefDFBTKLyIrWjulzv-2B28JURA0tFrTAsuZinFiB6-2FalLMLAJ875nC3tnr6G5JqS9FsPzmslWha6U8ufRiqITYEw0GLonXFJ6yzq6uqChL05EDUrndOQ1XGzI31lUOYJ7AlqYH-2F-2BAZPxk9HeirHI2hXJmZ1vY5BkOt5A4pSwDQqg-2FFpfpVGO4MbXpnsCxtcqyKZht2wkS6ElXviokal85Witi&source=gmail&ust=1709988536353000&usg=AOvVaw1Plgq1T2TUAsZE4e140FBr" href="http://link.mediaoutreach.meltwater.com/ls/click?upn=u001.oroaUsx8ELJQHYj2vpAbT8Zmuh56tChrwgXZxt9D2EiCK2RRmlscvcfAmIzmqjLWG57RwCn84g96VPi9jGYjNg-3D-3D_hP5_ezLIaLRN2qIGkyO8mNOaOT5OUOA3AqeiK4Awm9HMY-2FARbkxFWJo6nDhJGBDnaIWefJCt3WqlXAGS5Kqe9p-2Fci9uKFVitYltCM0rG8r53bpoAM-2Fravhq9aTKWGrT-2FN8I7DCt1aMJqIHLdEFIQPAE5qg98pKQDB7p1qs1xOmNBKefDFBTKLyIrWjulzv-2B28JURA0tFrTAsuZinFiB6-2FalLMLAJ875nC3tnr6G5JqS9FsPzmslWha6U8ufRiqITYEw0GLonXFJ6yzq6uqChL05EDUrndOQ1XGzI31lUOYJ7AlqYH-2F-2BAZPxk9HeirHI2hXJmZ1vY5BkOt5A4pSwDQqg-2FFpfpVGO4MbXpnsCxtcqyKZht2wkS6ElXviokal85Witi" style="text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">almost five times as likely</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> to suffer severe maternal complications compared to those who deliver living infants. And experts indicate that using best practices, at least </span><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://link.mediaoutreach.meltwater.com/ls/click?upn%3Du001.oroaUsx8ELJQHYj2vpAbT948JCgvZ-2BQ1-2BW0gZIX6IpuW44N-2FRJ-2Fgy3TBwzIlVAG3BOdRlhTzEL7bogM23cG4VQ-3D-3D8ABZ_ezLIaLRN2qIGkyO8mNOaOT5OUOA3AqeiK4Awm9HMY-2FARbkxFWJo6nDhJGBDnaIWefJCt3WqlXAGS5Kqe9p-2Fci9uKFVitYltCM0rG8r53bpoAM-2Fravhq9aTKWGrT-2FN8I7DCt1aMJqIHLdEFIQPAE5qg98pKQDB7p1qs1xOmNBKefDFBTKLyIrWjulzv-2B28JURA0tFrTAsuZinFiB6-2FalLMLAJ875nC3tnr6G5JqS9FsOvct40sHprPRYwLO2STC0UfrlzYGAxKwIV-2B7NMKqKCnDM2xTjH0yw82yS-2FqLbLn3GAUfGKOw5qm-2BotxJn6LxIGrmq8eNeCYAwNmpBikFzH7p6Wkw5NaANOhHGKbwFqwUg4qoR9VoUJYzwYeJBbPaBC&source=gmail&ust=1709988536353000&usg=AOvVaw2699o1sQqAH2GG_Y0O-U5y" href="http://link.mediaoutreach.meltwater.com/ls/click?upn=u001.oroaUsx8ELJQHYj2vpAbT948JCgvZ-2BQ1-2BW0gZIX6IpuW44N-2FRJ-2Fgy3TBwzIlVAG3BOdRlhTzEL7bogM23cG4VQ-3D-3D8ABZ_ezLIaLRN2qIGkyO8mNOaOT5OUOA3AqeiK4Awm9HMY-2FARbkxFWJo6nDhJGBDnaIWefJCt3WqlXAGS5Kqe9p-2Fci9uKFVitYltCM0rG8r53bpoAM-2Fravhq9aTKWGrT-2FN8I7DCt1aMJqIHLdEFIQPAE5qg98pKQDB7p1qs1xOmNBKefDFBTKLyIrWjulzv-2B28JURA0tFrTAsuZinFiB6-2FalLMLAJ875nC3tnr6G5JqS9FsOvct40sHprPRYwLO2STC0UfrlzYGAxKwIV-2B7NMKqKCnDM2xTjH0yw82yS-2FqLbLn3GAUfGKOw5qm-2BotxJn6LxIGrmq8eNeCYAwNmpBikFzH7p6Wkw5NaANOhHGKbwFqwUg4qoR9VoUJYzwYeJBbPaBC" style="text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> 25% of US stillbirths may be preventable</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">. </span></span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /></span></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Since the 1940s, improvements in maternity care have resulted in a dramatic reduction in the occurrence of stillbirth; however, more recently, the decline has slowed or halted. In 2020, the latest year statistics are available, the CDC </span><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/nvsr/nvsr71/nvsr71-04.pdf&source=gmail&ust=1709988536354000&usg=AOvVaw3h6hZtTvfYvrnpJaF-5zW_" href="https://www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/nvsr/nvsr71/nvsr71-04.pdf" style="text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">reported</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> about 21,000 stillbirths in the United States. According to the National Institutes of Health, there are approximately </span><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://link.mediaoutreach.meltwater.com/ls/click?upn%3Du001.oroaUsx8ELJQHYj2vpAbT4sMWvrkv-2FKgFUaJHLHWNP2yoTJAokCzcOg2SMUoiKdcskQniiw7AjZaf-2B3VOVzpm70eUO6mJmIZ5-2FvaRutE7A0-3DE1hP_ezLIaLRN2qIGkyO8mNOaOT5OUOA3AqeiK4Awm9HMY-2FARbkxFWJo6nDhJGBDnaIWefJCt3WqlXAGS5Kqe9p-2Fci9uKFVitYltCM0rG8r53bpoAM-2Fravhq9aTKWGrT-2FN8I7DCt1aMJqIHLdEFIQPAE5qg98pKQDB7p1qs1xOmNBKefDFBTKLyIrWjulzv-2B28JURA0tFrTAsuZinFiB6-2FalLMLAJ875nC3tnr6G5JqS9FsNOpXoL52VRrg8UVSdvE82-2Fc6Ejq4xsWaITa0NLR14wAeL1UIpzMeo2EvRuyK2PCHeiZjN00cgzD-2FMKNuo4pi-2BiVhJG-2FD-2FPBn0I1apDcIuhcfW6ygohfcHnmoUSiCJg4qj6oQsgTpT-2BqioGLA4KG2N-2F&source=gmail&ust=1709988536354000&usg=AOvVaw31EAK_RCgzWWzDedYwW09I" href="http://link.mediaoutreach.meltwater.com/ls/click?upn=u001.oroaUsx8ELJQHYj2vpAbT4sMWvrkv-2FKgFUaJHLHWNP2yoTJAokCzcOg2SMUoiKdcskQniiw7AjZaf-2B3VOVzpm70eUO6mJmIZ5-2FvaRutE7A0-3DE1hP_ezLIaLRN2qIGkyO8mNOaOT5OUOA3AqeiK4Awm9HMY-2FARbkxFWJo6nDhJGBDnaIWefJCt3WqlXAGS5Kqe9p-2Fci9uKFVitYltCM0rG8r53bpoAM-2Fravhq9aTKWGrT-2FN8I7DCt1aMJqIHLdEFIQPAE5qg98pKQDB7p1qs1xOmNBKefDFBTKLyIrWjulzv-2B28JURA0tFrTAsuZinFiB6-2FalLMLAJ875nC3tnr6G5JqS9FsNOpXoL52VRrg8UVSdvE82-2Fc6Ejq4xsWaITa0NLR14wAeL1UIpzMeo2EvRuyK2PCHeiZjN00cgzD-2FMKNuo4pi-2BiVhJG-2FD-2FPBn0I1apDcIuhcfW6ygohfcHnmoUSiCJg4qj6oQsgTpT-2BqioGLA4KG2N-2F" style="text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">1,400 stillbirths in New York State</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> each year. </span></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: #444444; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"> </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">“New York’s current Paid Family Leave law forces parents of stillborn babies to make the awful choice between a paycheck and taking time to safely recover during the early postpartum period – a </span><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://link.mediaoutreach.meltwater.com/ls/click?upn%3Du001.oroaUsx8ELJQHYj2vpAbT8sv2fUsG1-2Fe2GdQk8yIP7e3dfSgg-2BXz5Ogw1Lkdwrx51lznVc-2BRdltuUiZ-2BEVeGBR9fh-2BnZ1F-2FEbLHHFodFatbGfu9FVGMSTKgwTahejOu0onv9_ezLIaLRN2qIGkyO8mNOaOT5OUOA3AqeiK4Awm9HMY-2FARbkxFWJo6nDhJGBDnaIWefJCt3WqlXAGS5Kqe9p-2Fci9uKFVitYltCM0rG8r53bpoAM-2Fravhq9aTKWGrT-2FN8I7DCt1aMJqIHLdEFIQPAE5qg98pKQDB7p1qs1xOmNBKefDFBTKLyIrWjulzv-2B28JURA0tFrTAsuZinFiB6-2FalLMLAJ875nC3tnr6G5JqS9FsMYsUsmvUsXpnVxedApZ8ty5qoT21qBenxFvKPanUOL06XtB4meB8bzXbIJQ-2FrJe7vD8CrylAXAa8SPkn1TE6yx-2FQ2IaCdf-2BFfdBWXWIEWs57l9oZTAo6xCapisOr43Y5SYW92pUoQxPsTs2OmT3hnb&source=gmail&ust=1709988536354000&usg=AOvVaw3gbmUgGIoup0x9AGpXyJWW" href="http://link.mediaoutreach.meltwater.com/ls/click?upn=u001.oroaUsx8ELJQHYj2vpAbT8sv2fUsG1-2Fe2GdQk8yIP7e3dfSgg-2BXz5Ogw1Lkdwrx51lznVc-2BRdltuUiZ-2BEVeGBR9fh-2BnZ1F-2FEbLHHFodFatbGfu9FVGMSTKgwTahejOu0onv9_ezLIaLRN2qIGkyO8mNOaOT5OUOA3AqeiK4Awm9HMY-2FARbkxFWJo6nDhJGBDnaIWefJCt3WqlXAGS5Kqe9p-2Fci9uKFVitYltCM0rG8r53bpoAM-2Fravhq9aTKWGrT-2FN8I7DCt1aMJqIHLdEFIQPAE5qg98pKQDB7p1qs1xOmNBKefDFBTKLyIrWjulzv-2B28JURA0tFrTAsuZinFiB6-2FalLMLAJ875nC3tnr6G5JqS9FsMYsUsmvUsXpnVxedApZ8ty5qoT21qBenxFvKPanUOL06XtB4meB8bzXbIJQ-2FrJe7vD8CrylAXAa8SPkn1TE6yx-2FQ2IaCdf-2BFfdBWXWIEWs57l9oZTAo6xCapisOr43Y5SYW92pUoQxPsTs2OmT3hnb" style="text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">critical time in maternal health</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> when moms are at significantly higher risk of life-threatening medical complications,” says PUSH Executive Director, Samantha Durante Banerjee. </span></span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /></span></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: #444444; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">“This puts these families in an even more precarious situation, literally being forced to choose between their physical and financial health. And it's only exacerbated by the fact that it is totally unexpected, happening in the immediate wake of an immense trauma, and at a time when this family is grappling not only with the loss of a child but also significant financial impacts (funeral and burial expenses, autopsy and testing which often is not covered by insurance after stillbirths, mental health support, etc.) that come along with this devastation,” she said.</span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /></span></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: #444444; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">“Mothers need at least six weeks to recover physically from pregnancy loss, not to mention to recover emotionally. There have already been too many close calls where mothers with no choice return to work too soon and risk their health. We need a solution now – before a New York mother loses her life,” urges PUSH Policy Director Allie Felker.</span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /></span></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: #444444; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">PUSH is asking Gov. Kathy Hochul to fast-track legislation that would grant the birthing parent 12 weeks of paid time off regardless of whether labor resulted in a live birth.</span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /></span></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: #444444; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">Honestly, I don’t know whether PFL is the best vehicle by which to do this or if medical disability should rise to meet the realities of our times since the consequences of lost wages can wreak havoc on all patients and their families. A part of me worries that in either scenario, anti-abortion politicians will always try to weaponize good-faith legislation in their continuing efforts to diminish reproductive rights or dictate to families how they should be configured. </span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /></span></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: #444444; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">But I don’t see how we can claim to hold family values in high esteem if we carelessly erase the value of a woman’s financial contribution to her family or the realities of her continued caregiving role even as she convalesces. </span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /></span></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: #444444; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">Twelve weeks is a small price to pay if it keeps women in the bigger picture. It’s simply what’s fair. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: #444444; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">——-</span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /></span></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> </span><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://link.mediaoutreach.meltwater.com/ls/click?upn%3Du001.oroaUsx8ELJQHYj2vpAbTzmQqtVYQ1-2BixROCwPJok2Nzo7aS2RsFy3HSTM7ku6uawH9p_ezLIaLRN2qIGkyO8mNOaOT5OUOA3AqeiK4Awm9HMY-2FARbkxFWJo6nDhJGBDnaIWefJCt3WqlXAGS5Kqe9p-2Fci9uKFVitYltCM0rG8r53bpoAM-2Fravhq9aTKWGrT-2FN8I7DCt1aMJqIHLdEFIQPAE5qg98pKQDB7p1qs1xOmNBKefDFBTKLyIrWjulzv-2B28JURA0tFrTAsuZinFiB6-2FalLMLAJ875nC3tnr6G5JqS9FsPZGhNasX7ywHGqkmJdCy4w1JHcuZFJaxWIgtYA425CRA-2Fbm1jKeOTiz4nIN2xZz1Yu7i-2FTTbNjITcxpP5fIc3PFVPCFrOiu9ehxeUEQ-2F3ajxoUfUTL9jkTc2QQLn4H8gqurzgnWYDBO-2F-2FEAm6Rt-2FBi&source=gmail&ust=1709988536354000&usg=AOvVaw3TEt5cmrup_9YOI-YKRxsn" href="http://link.mediaoutreach.meltwater.com/ls/click?upn=u001.oroaUsx8ELJQHYj2vpAbTzmQqtVYQ1-2BixROCwPJok2Nzo7aS2RsFy3HSTM7ku6uawH9p_ezLIaLRN2qIGkyO8mNOaOT5OUOA3AqeiK4Awm9HMY-2FARbkxFWJo6nDhJGBDnaIWefJCt3WqlXAGS5Kqe9p-2Fci9uKFVitYltCM0rG8r53bpoAM-2Fravhq9aTKWGrT-2FN8I7DCt1aMJqIHLdEFIQPAE5qg98pKQDB7p1qs1xOmNBKefDFBTKLyIrWjulzv-2B28JURA0tFrTAsuZinFiB6-2FalLMLAJ875nC3tnr6G5JqS9FsPZGhNasX7ywHGqkmJdCy4w1JHcuZFJaxWIgtYA425CRA-2Fbm1jKeOTiz4nIN2xZz1Yu7i-2FTTbNjITcxpP5fIc3PFVPCFrOiu9ehxeUEQ-2F3ajxoUfUTL9jkTc2QQLn4H8gqurzgnWYDBO-2F-2FEAm6Rt-2FBi" style="text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">PUSH for Empowered Pregnancy (PUSH)</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> will gather outside the Governor’s Executive Mansion (138 Eagle Street) on Thursday, March 14, 2024, at 2 p.m.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> </span></span></span></p><div><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20691740.post-90431508991398495722024-03-03T15:06:00.000-08:002024-03-03T15:06:00.138-08:00Divine spine<p><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">The conversation was heading in an awkward direction, as conversations about religion and politics often do. </span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-ea0075f4-7fff-3986-feaa-a8bbf192d91c"><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My mouth was ready to cast off a sentence, which might have amounted to “I’d rather see a church burn than spill a single drop of this-here coffee,” when I managed to reel it back inside. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A brief chortle, however, propelled me toward ephemeral damnation.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Do you go to church?”</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“No,” I had to admit. “And because I am a lapsed Catholic, I feel the need to verify just how much thought I’ve put into disbelieving.”</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He waved me away, not wanting to waste his time with any of my religious meanderings. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It’s just that he KNEW and I didn’t.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And from here until the end of the session, he would bestow upon me the healing miracles that God bestows … if you are saved.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As he tells me his story … a short one that starts with sitting on a bench in church, praying for nothing in particular, and receiving the shock of feeling a dodgy vertebrae in his lower back shift a whole quarter inch to the right, falling back into place like a puzzle piece, smoothing out the pain he had hardly acknowledged.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The way he described it, was as if the whole congregation felt the godly adjustment. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He paused long enough for me to pay respects to the power of prayer.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was in earnest that I replied: I’m so glad for you.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">No one could have been more surprised than I was that the spirit had, in fact, moved me.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Even amidst the suspension of disbelief, I couldn’t suspend the feeling that however someone finds true peace, it’s personal.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Not my place to throw a wrench in the works.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Which is where another “holy lecture” found me a few years ago as I stood with a sign in a sea of protesters unmoored by a Supreme Court decision that had overturned the civil right of women’s body autonomy bestowed by Roe Vs. Wade. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This voice at the lectern, a woman, had called upon her Christian faith and waited a minute as the gathered crowd exhaled a collective groan.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Now I know what you are thinking. You’ve heard a lot of people of the faith tell you they believe in the right to life, but they do not. If they believed people should have the right to life they’d make sure people also had the right to live it.” </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She preached about how the righteous would be against the taking of lives through judicial and extrajudicial means. They would be against guns, and wars, and hatred. They would be interested in feeding the poor, and housing the homeless. If they wanted healthy, happy babies they would make policies to ensure those babies’ parents were cared for, too. There would be real benefits, not just bootstraps. It takes backbones, too.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I noticed then how the crowd had hushed. And I felt a calm come over me.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I felt my spine tingle.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Like a puzzle piece slipping effortlessly into place.</span></p></span><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20691740.post-7957633345679079882024-02-25T03:57:00.000-08:002024-02-25T03:57:00.149-08:00A year and change<p>His room doesn’t have a thermostat, but it feels like a balmy 78 degrees each time I knock on his door, tentatively cracking it open a sliver to inquire about the state of his awakening.</p><p>Sometimes he’s still sleeping. A starfish splayed out over the mattress; tangled in bed linens.</p><p>Often, he is already wide awake.</p><p>His whole life is in there … somewhere. The first thing I see when I tip my head inside is a grammar school diorama balanced at an awkward angle on top of a myriad of other possessions …. collecting dust on the dresser. </p><p>I can only step inside but not walk around. Everywhere I look his childhood looks back: A wall of Nerf, shelves of Lego; drawers stuffed to overflowing with clothes that he has long outgrown. He lives out of laundry baskets.</p><p>One of these days, (I tell myself daily), I will get in there and take control of the clutter.</p><p>The clock is ticking. </p><p>The warm air is pungent with spent socks and the remnants of midnight snacks, but I can also make out the smells of various tinctures and tonics he uses to make his shaves more smooth and his hair more rugged.</p><p>I try to be careful. Speak softly, try not to startle him. The moods of teenagers are appropriately fickle whether we parents approve or not. But still … I am his second wake-up call if you count the sunrise clock that makes no sound.</p><p>It can be a delicate job that his father often drill-sergeants through to his own detriment. I endeavor to handle him with kid gloves.</p><p>Not that we don’t get the same response - I’m awake! - it’s just that he sounds much less annoyed as he relays his assurances that he will be ready to leave on time.</p><p>I find trusting his word builds equity. He knows I’ll be the one owing late fees as I wait for a second cup of coffee to brew as he’s warming the car. He doesn’t beep the horn, instead, he pings my phone with a string of “MOM”s in rapid fire. </p><p>We are not going to be late. But time is dwindling. Soon enough - if he follows his sister’s lead - we will be packing a car with all his dorm room essentials. </p><p>Recently, he attended his third college tour. The first that was meant solely for him. As a younger brother, he had trailed along silently but with his eyes fully focused on the work at hand. I could tell he was looking forward to taking his turn one day even if he wasn’t ready to map it all out by himself.</p><p>So I made an appointment and sent him off with his father to explore his first choice. A university with two campuses to choose from just outside of his ability to commute. </p><p>“He really opened up,” his father told me on one of many calls to keep me apprised. The boy had navigated maps, asked questions, and chatted with other prospective students with an air of confidence that my husband admitted had come as a surprise.</p><p>“He really seems like he’s coming out of his shell.”</p><p>Funny how we still see our children as we get closer to ushering them into adulthood.</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20691740.post-73066700815071279972024-02-18T14:34:00.000-08:002024-02-18T14:34:00.127-08:00Ma bell<p>Her face comes up on the screen and everything around me stops. My breath catches and the room goes silent if only in my consciousness, which has muted what had previously been an entertaining noise.</p><p><br /></p><p>A cold sweat comes over me; not unlike the sudden panic of a doorbell; perhaps welcome sounds back in the olden days of neighborly caretaking. Perhaps not.</p><p><br /></p><p>Even back then, the doorbell would send me into a panic. Stranger danger isn’t a new development; mothers everywhere warned their children away from answering doors when they were home alone, or at least from telling the door ringer, or even the phone caller that we were, in fact, home alone. </p><p><br /></p><p>But when the house was full, we would trip over ourselves to get to a rigging phone. I’d stretched out the coiled cords, worrying them through closet doors, to get some privacy, </p><p><br /></p><p>I can’t say as I miss the days when we used to wall ourselves off in our rooms, listening to music and engaging in marathon-length phone conversations where nothing truly memorable was ever discussed despite how important it all seemed. </p><p><br /></p><p>My mother would rattle the door an hour before she needed me to hang up, and again, more fervently at the half-hour mark, so she could place her nightly welfare checks on the elderly aunties before they retired to sleep. </p><p><br /></p><p>Things haven’t changed as much as we think. Since we all have our own separate phones, I am at liberty to call (or text) the elderly aunties whenever I like, though still trying for reasonable hours. But I rattle to door to my son’s room every so often just to see his face.</p><p><br /></p><p>This is what I tell my daughter when I look at the phone tracking app to locate her from afar. I’m not so much checking up as checking in, though I can’t pretend either definition isn’t a first cousin of stalking. </p><p><br /></p><p>Unlike her friends’ parents, who track down their kids and quiz them as to why they may be in a sketchy neighborhood after dark, or in a questionable establishment geared toward debauchery, inebriation, and the potential for sophomoric pranks, when I see her icon photo somewhere other than her dorm room, I sigh in gratitude that she’s not just holed up in her cubicle being all alone in her aloneness. </p><p><br /></p><p>I walk a fine line, I know. It’s easily crossed. So easy that I don't tell what I know from checking the maps. I don’t let on that I know she was at an arena, or in the shopping district, or at a frat house. What she does is her business. </p><p><br /></p><p>I don't expect the good news to travel as fast as the bad. </p><p><br /></p><p>Which is why every nerve in my body stands at attention when the phone rings with her face looking to spend time with mine. I do everything in my power not to answer the phone the way my mom used to answer: What do you want … or what’s wrong? </p><p><br /></p><p>Often I fail.</p><p><br /></p><p>“Why can’t your daughter just call you to say hi?”</p><p><br /></p><p>“Oh, she most certainly can! How’s everything going?”</p><p><br /></p><p>“Well, everything was going fine but Trader Joe's just stopped stocking cornichons… how am I supposed to live without my gherkins?”</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20691740.post-7379001890107870192024-02-11T05:58:00.000-08:002024-02-11T05:58:00.134-08:00Out of pocket<p>I thought about the bills I had tucked in my pocket. It was money I had considered saving ... or spending on pizza. I hadn't yet decided. </p><p><br /></p><p>I knew I should have taken the time to slide the notes into the wallet. But I didn't want to find my purse. I could be careful I told myself as I walked the dog. They would stay put in my jacket with my phone, a car key, and my hand ... keeping everything sufficiently warm.</p><p><br /></p><p>It was predictable. I had shuffled all these things several times during the stroll: taking care of Fido's business; pulling out my phone to take a picture of the sun setting; lathering, rinsing repeating. Eventually, I remembered the cash and decided to check. The smaller denomination was clinging to my phone but the larger bill was gone.</p><p><br /></p><p>It wasn’t a lot but decided to trace our steps backward to see if it had somehow stayed on the road and not taken a ride on the wind.</p><p><br /></p><p>I didn't find it. Not along the way or at any of the places we stopped. </p><p><br /></p><p>I think it is a premonition of hardship to come. I’d rather not say my mind works that way because I know it’s the way I unravel. </p><p><br /></p><p>The fear of knowing some loss more than money is always lying in wait.</p><p><br /></p><p>I tamp down the feelings with something, anything, positive. </p><p><br /></p><p>“At least lost money would benefit a finder,” I think.</p><p><br /></p><p>Which was not the comfort I took from the disappearance of a pocket knife my father had given me as a college graduation present. The one I wanted when I was seven, but he didn’t think I was mature enough to own as a second grader. </p><p><br /></p><p>Somehow, I lost it to the ocean the first summer holiday I’d taken as a newly minted adult. I comforted myself then that at least I’d always know about where it was if not exactly. </p><p><br /></p><p>Over the years I lost so many things I adored: </p><p><br /></p><p>Books I had lent, jewelry that had slipped off fingers, even a beaded cuff my daughter had just given were there and then gone, Like an “Irish Goodbye.”</p><p><br /></p><p>I wish I could be anywhere else than on a gurney waiting for a needle to take its core samples. Squeezing my eyes shut hoping life after this is more about the finding than the losing. </p><p><br /></p><p>Still, I do what I always do. Which is letting my repetitive thoughts bargain with superstition. I will count the steps in each flight of stairs; each second between songs. I will play games of solitaire until my cards align.</p><p><br /></p><p>I add a year to my age on purpose, wishing I’d never shredded the ARRP welcome letter (with its fantabulous offer of automobile trunk organizers) just for reaching the crest of old age.</p><p><br /></p><p>Eventually, I know time and inevitability will tarnish its protective effects, which, I can be honest, had never ever been protective. Youth weights probabilities differently. </p><p><br /></p><p>But not now. I am not ready to put my affairs in order. But perhaps I am ready to sort through the junk in my trunk. Maybe I’ll find some of the treasures I’ve lost. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20691740.post-397323042047020772024-02-04T04:14:00.000-08:002024-02-04T04:14:00.134-08:00Comfort me, Elmo<p><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">When Sesame Street’s Elmo took to social media last week to touch base with followers in his trademark third-person style – “Elmo is just checking in! How is everybody doing?” – the response, an outpouring of angst and unhappiness, was immediate and at times intense.</span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-e1a9ec71-7fff-e939-4f65-aa37ec536f1d"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">People told him of their struggles with loss; their marriages, loved ones, pets, jobs, possessions.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">They told him of their anguish over the state of the world and their inability to change its seeming trajectory into war and destruction.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">And they told him of their general malaise: “Elmo, I’m feeling pretty sad right now. I think I need a hug."</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Even celebrities and political figures added to the conversation, including President Biden:</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">“I know how hard it is some days to sweep the clouds away and get to sunnier days.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Our friend Elmo is right: We have to be there for each other, offer our help to a neighbor in need, and above all else, ask for help when we need it.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Even though it's hard, you're never alone.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">And while it may seem silly – a moment of cathartic exchange set off by a fuzzy member of the Children’s Television Workshop – it is certainly a testament to the lasting impact children's programming has had on our lives.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">It's understood from studies dating back to the 1970s, when Sesame Street was still in its toddler years, that children's educational television has had a significant impact on our kids’ school readiness. We all practiced our colors, letters, and shapes from comforting monsters, some of whom lived in trash cans and were benignly grumpy. It made our parents happy.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">These colorful, matted muppets perfectly demonstrated the wondrous nature children embody. They may have seemed like children, adults, or imaginary creatures, but these puppets were always safe and accessible.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Elmo was my daughter’s favorite. And for a good long while during her pre-verbal days, I wished he wasn’t.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I didn’t grow up with him. He didn't make me comfortable. At all. I didn’t like the high-pitched voice that confused tenses and referred to himself by name alone. I thought he was whiny. I scoffed at the idea that he was getting grammar wrong on purpose. “He’s using fishes as a noun! How can that be ok?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">But I had grown up. I had lost some of that wonder of childhood.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Elmo didn't speak my language. But he did speak my daughter's -- literally – he spoke the onset of speech for a person new to its practice. He forgot articles and repeated words, but he laughed a laugh of sheer joy that told my daughter getting it wrong isn't scary. He was gentle and sweet and he was learning just like his biggest fans.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">It was during a week-long hospital stay when my daughter was 18 months old that I learned to love the sound of his voice as he kept my daughter not only calm but in good spirits.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">That experience stayed with me as an adult in much the same way a fondness for wooly mastodons that seem a little sad, and vampires who love counting, had imprinted on my experiences of childhood.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I never said another unkind word about that marvelous monster again.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">It's reassuring to know that he's still a creature in whom we can all take just a little bit of comfort.</span></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20691740.post-31946877940874926962024-01-28T04:12:00.000-08:002024-01-28T04:12:00.244-08:00 Democracy may require a ménage a triage <p><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Great Barrington has drawn national attention after an incident in early December in which police, acting on an anonymous tip and with the permission of school officials, investigated whether a copy of “Gender Queer,” a graphic-comic style memoir by Maia Kobabe, was part of a teacher’s lending book collection at the W.E.B. Du Bois Regional Middle School. </span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-5b8e76eb-7fff-4bb9-3c24-8aa34c523c26"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">While the outcome of the search, according to news reports, yielded no book, the teacher who was targeted has taken a leave of absence after the incident, and the community is rightly outraged. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">The police department has allegedly apologized for its part, and town officials have similarly promised to conduct a transparent investigation, but each has tempered some of that contrition with the age-old qualified defense of “just doing our job.”</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Numerous spokespeople have cited an “inability” to pick and choose the “crimes” they investigate as a kind of magic eraser for police overreach as they look into the criminality of reading material.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">School officials have repeatedly been quoted as saying they feel obligated to allow police access to school grounds when asked because they feel a cordial and necessary partnership with them in the event of an emergency. As if school authorities have no reason to question, let alone second-guess, outside authority. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Even those who we might hope would be friendly toward the democratic ideals of freedom of speech and expression, have come out and asked what all the fuss was about.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">“Personally, I don't think the police did anything wrong. I think they responded to a call, I think they're obligated to respond to a call, they didn't go in there with a SWAT team and armed officers. I think some people are trying to capitalize on this in a very negative way because of what's going on in Florida, in some other states. But I think the police did their job,” is what Massachusetts State Rep. Smitty Pignitali (D) told WAMC.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">The American Civil Liberties Union has asked for records pertaining to the investigation and has requested the town to take corrective action that includes instructing school staff that law enforcement's response to concerns about educational material is not only inappropriate but also deeply concerning. Anything less would not only allow but condone the use of police forces to harass and discriminate against certain community members. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Like the teacher who was targeted by an anonymous phone.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">The book in question, a coming-of-age story about identifying as non-binary, was published by Oni Press in 2019 with an initial run of only 5,000 copies. Two years later it had become not only a useful guide for young people in their exploration of self-identity, but also one of the most challenged books in the United States.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> According to the American Library Association and free speech advocate organization PEN America, who track the escalation of censorship and book bans in classrooms and libraries nationwide, the book was targeted for attack by conservative groups, parents, school boards, religious leaders, and politicians across the nation. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">According to PEN, censorship has shown a marked increase during the 2022-2023 school year, much of it driven by new state bans (as well as a few prolific and sometimes anonymous tipsters) that seek to label books that deal with race, sexual orientation, and gender as “explicit, harmful or age-inappropriate.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Police Investigations of school libraries are not just a waste of police resources, it is a misuse of them. It is quite literally using the power of the state to intimidate, and curtail the rights to speech and expression of citizens. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">And if police are not able to discern from a tip line what constitutes criminal activity in a school library maybe there should be some kind of home triage unit that could decide for them.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Because if you buy the explanation that police can't pick and choose what they investigate, I suppose you might also believe that schools shouldn’t be able to determine what constitutes education, or that medical staff aren't allowed to decide for themselves what constitutes a medical emergency. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Oh wait … </span></p><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20691740.post-46679243026140739642024-01-21T18:57:00.000-08:002024-01-21T18:57:00.143-08:00How do you like your coffee? Reel or Insta?<p> <span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Did you see what I sent you?”</span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-856bb886-7fff-7976-cdb3-2e2f31be3ab5"><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He’s usually sitting on the couch next to me as we divide our attention between three different screens and trying to stay alert to the beckoning of a kitchen timer.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I usually roll my eyes before I change course scrolling to check my messages. I have no idea how many times I'll have to watch this movie before I understand what's happening. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Over the years, my husband has sent me countless videos gleaned from the internet of seemingly miraculous things:</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A scratch-and-sniff “museum” in Japan that offers visitors the experience of smelling various animal butts; A bride and groom who dressed up their pet llama as a groomsman; a pygmy goat who can only relax if he’s dressed in a duck costume; an octopus unscrewing the lid of a jar from the inside; and a never-ending reel of foodie challenges that have got to be based on dares.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Even if we had a marble counter there is no way I'd spread two jars of gravy and a cylinder of shake cheese as a way of mixing spaghetti and meatballs.”</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Honestly, I had never before felt the urge to test any of these (usually) zany (sometimes crass) videos’ validity.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Until now.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">All it amounted to was a tight shot of a ribbon of coffee pouring through an orange slice into a demitasse cup.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My husband had found my weakness. A coffee recipe so simple that it might even be foolproof.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Not that I was going to rush into recreating it.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I mean… I had to watch the 30-second long video over and over despite it having only one step. Thoroughness could take days.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I mean … I had to have the perfect ingredients. This could mean at least four trips to the grocery store to take into account the number of times I leave the place with everything but what I had on my list.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I mean … it was so simple that when I decided to try it I didn't even bother with a trial run. I was just going to record the simple process and send him my cinematic tribute via instant messenger forthwith.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Eventually, I would get it all together. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ready? Set? The camera was rolling now. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I knew what to expect as I steadied my hand against it and waited for the magic to happen.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The coffee sprang forth from the espresso machine like a freight train in a winter storm. Steam and froth accompanied the brown liquid as it poured onto the slice of orange I had placed over my cup.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But instead of filtering through the sliver of citrus the espresso cascaded over the edge and created a river on the counter.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">#@^&!! Internet! I laughed as I cut the video and promptly sent it off into the green chat bubble toward the mister.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Three dots later he had a helpful suggestion: </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“In the video, the orange has a hold in the center. Maybe you shouldn't get the seedless?”</span></p><br /><br /><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20691740.post-14257682030551406192024-01-14T05:37:00.000-08:002024-01-14T05:37:00.139-08:00In dogged pursuit <p><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">The unnamed roadways on the Island De Vieques pushed northward in steep elevation along the coastline, and I pushed myself up their pockmarked surfaces at as steady a pace as I could muster. </span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-4ab999d4-7fff-c919-3406-7ba33e5d862e"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">It was the last day of our acquaintance, and I was saying farewell to the lovely and rugged place with a final jog around the neighborhood. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">It wasn't my first ride on this particular carousel. but I was still wary. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">During the six days I'd been here, I had gotten lost at least twice and encountered a host of curious animals -- everything from hermit crabs and iguanas to wild horses.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Most of them ignored my intrusion once they realized the things I carried – a phone, a beach towel, a pair of sunglasses – contained no nutritional value. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">But nothing frightened me more than the dogs that roamed loose. I had kept a lookout for them, making note of places I'd seen the scruffier ones linger in hopes of avoiding any unwanted surprises. I took pains to scuff my feet on the gravel as loudly as possible, doing so I hoped would herald my whereabouts.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I was having success: </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I startled a shaggy mixed breed that looked like a relative of Little Orphan Annie’s pooch (1982 Movie not the ‘76 Broadway Musical) but he deduced I was harmless and continued on his merry way, nosing through some litter. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I came face to snout with Old Yeller’s clone and got the distinct message (from his raised hackles and continuous growl) that he did not want me to pass anywhere near his humble abode. So I turned on my zero-drop heels and went along MY merry way.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Then there was the adorable pair of teacup pooches of the fluffy variety all alone in front at the boutique hotel just a few doors down from where I'd ventured out, and where my relatives were still sleeping akimbo. The pups looked comfortable and fetching in their matching outfits and bejeweled collars. But as I approached the place where I imagined their relatives were still checking out, they snarled and bared their teeth. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Circling back. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I'll just cut over on the nearest side street and cross my fingers that it will connect with the broader loop. I've already run one and a half miles; one and a half more would scratch the itch. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">It's restful here. The air is warm but not heavy. The hills give and take. The traffic I encounter of the automotive variety never reaches top speed thanks to narrow roadways laden with speed bumps. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I am at the bottom of a steep hill and jogging upward, having almost completed my second circle when I hear some commotion behind me. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">The jingle of collars, nails scraping the pavement, and barks that travel through deep chests. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">There are two of them. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I am afraid to look back. Afraid to lock eyes. But I know. They have different gaits and their growls have different pitches.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I instinctively stop running, knowing I can't outrun them but hoping that slowing down will give all of us more time to think. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">But I don't dawdle. I set my sights on the top of the hill and push the pace.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">“Stay calm,” said the voice in my head who was telling me what I already knew: a pack of dogs that would ambush me from behind was not interested in playing. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I feel one of the dogs touch the back of my knee. It feels like the dry lips of a horse flapping at a palm hoping to slurp a handful of something tasty. And then came the pressure. Not a bite. Maybe the swipe of a heavy paw?</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I wish I had a rock to throw at their broadsides. Even if I might miss. Chances are fair that at least one of them might trade the chase for an instinctive game of fetch. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">In my escalating panic, the voice of actor Matthew McConaughey comes rushing out of my mouth like it's air from a punctured tire. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">“ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT … I've got no intention of moving in on your action.” </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">And like movie magic, once the three of us reached the top of the hill, the dogs turned back and disappeared into parts unknown.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I took off running. </span></p><br /><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20691740.post-3415336312569147342024-01-07T07:01:00.000-08:002024-01-09T07:01:45.817-08:00Plane air<p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">The temperature got warmer all of a sudden. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Up until that moment during the three-and-a-half-hour flight, the plane had felt drafty and frigid. I imagined we had crossed some point in the world between the arctic North and tropical South, though I could only make an estimation based on elapsed time. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I certainly hadn't ponied up for WiFi. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I might have asked my husband where the dashes and dots appeared on the map as if such movie icons could materialize in real-time. But he had drawn the long straw assigned seating and managed a bulkhead seat that might as well have been a lounge chair for all the space it gave him. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He tried to make my side of the sardine can more comfortable by offering to share one of his wireless earbuds so I could at least listen to a movie he had downloaded … but I demurred. I didn't want to listen to things explode. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I'm already an anxious traveler. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So I fidgeted in my aisle seat, vacillating between playing games of backgammon on my phone and pretending to doze off. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The girl had the window and was tapping away at her screen. Earphones blot out the jet stream of sounds recirculating in the cabin, which range from mechanical to mucousy. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The boy, a monkey in our middle, had fallen asleep on this flight and the one before it. His head wobbled from side to side as the plane shimmied from one pocket of turbulence to another. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The two of us wagered the odds of him sleeping through the third and final leg of the journey. Magic 8 Ball says: “All Signs Point To Yes.”</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A steady stream of fellow passengers mill past us to get to the lavatories. They navigate past without grazing any part of my person. They are careful and I have tucked my arms in between the armrests. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I have learned from the man who doffed the head of a woman sitting on her suitcase near the moving sidewalk as he dangled his arm over the handrail. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Jerks. Forever sprawling past their fair share of space. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My husband, sensing my angry thoughts, pulls his elbows into his body. He doesn't notice I am telegraphing instructions to return his seat to its upright position for landing.</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">From my mind to the flight attendant’s mouth. He pretends he didn't notice though everyone knows great wars have been waged over that angled inch. </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Turns out we were six miles above sea level and headed into our descent.</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The cabin lights switch off as the Fasten Seatbelt sign comes to life with a crystal-tinked ding.</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It occurred to me then, that the whole ride had been a breeze. Not once had the baby in the seat ahead of us, who had smiled beatifically as he was bounced and juggled between his equally placid parents, seemed disgruntled. Not once did my own children argue. And not once did I wish minor, irritating harm on my fellow man.</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We all just seemed to float effortlessly, harmoniously together.</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And before I knew it we had landed, smooth as silk. Passengers erupt into applause of appreciation. I hadn't even been worried. Now I was grateful.</span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><p dir="ltr" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></p><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" /><br style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;" />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20691740.post-32653830968635508032023-12-31T14:57:00.000-08:002023-12-31T14:57:49.228-08:00Not worth the gamble <p><span style="font-family: Arial;">I know I wasn't hallucinating.</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">I had been under the influence of sedation, but I had concrete proof. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">Five years ago, after my first big milestone screening test – the one that no one remembers but ends with a report complete with the most colorful but least scenic tourism photography imaginable – my lower digestive tract was declared completely unremarkable except for the appearance of a redundancy – an “extra loop” – which had put a gleam in the doctor’s eye, and which he assured me was not abnormal nor would preclude me from membership in the elusive 10-year club. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">“Congratulations.”</span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">It felt like I had won the lottery.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">But the form letter that arrived in the mail just a few weeks ago was an unexpected invitation to take the sightseeing journey early.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">“Oh yes,” the lady who answered the phone said when I asked about why they were taking away half my lottery winnings and making me spin the wheel again. “I see that your recall was shortened. Probably happened during a review of your files when your doctor retired. You could postpone …”</span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">“Or I could just get it over with, and not spend the next five years wondering what could be growing unchecked in the recesses of my ascending colon.”</span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">“Probably not worth the gamble.”</span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">So I made the appointment, which turned out to be two days after Christmas. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">And though I tried to keep it all very hush-hush, buying the preparations on the sly, and keeping my nervous energy in check, my secret was discovered when the boy found bottles of electrolytes hidden in a cabinet behind the lunch boxes.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">“So when is the colonoscopy?”</span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">Why would you think that?</span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">“Because you never buy Gatorade, and Grandma never buys Gatorade, but I found it in her house last summer and she said she had just had a colonoscopy.”</span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">“It’s two days after Christmas.”</span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">“That's a pretty crappy gift … all puns intended.”</span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">Yes … and no.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">The prep is a time-consuming process that requires precision. And test anxiety is ever-present. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">But in my experience, and as strange as it seems, there are more uncomfortable procedures than colonoscopy. And since it's truly preventative, the test can also be a treatment, preventing cancer before it begins. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">The hardest part, for me, has always been having to coordinate a driver. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">If it were an option, I would prefer to wait out the drug-induced delirium and drive myself home.</span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">As it is, I will have to suffer the slings and arrows of my husband telling jokes, ad nauseam, about the funny things I said or did while under the influence of sedation. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">But, thanks to pandemic protocols, he was waiting in the parking lot and not in attendance to witness me waking up drowsily in recovery. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">Even if I danced on top of the nurses’ station, he wasn't there to see it, so the question of it happening would be moot anyway. </span></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">As it turned out, the big day was just another Wednesday in December. With a mid-morning nap, unremarkable results, and my new place in the Five-Year Club celebrated as solid. </span></p><div><span style="font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20691740.post-2898759217310472862023-12-24T03:40:00.000-08:002023-12-24T03:40:00.135-08:00Season's Greetings<p> <span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Tomorrow we will sleep in.</span></p><span id="gmail-docs-internal-guid-b013b13f-7fff-3252-0951-0780ca6ecc3a" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">That's the plan, anyway.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Tonight we are neither on guard nor on our best behavior. There will be at least four cheeky arguments over which holiday movie is the one WE ALWAYS (or WE NEVER) watch on Christmas Eve. (It's NOT Waking Ned Devine, no matter what my husband says.)</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Santa's workshop - also known as the downstairs guest bedroom, where parental elves have toiled into the wee hours on the 24th day of December for the last two decades – has finally experienced the sluggishness of an aging demographic. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There aren't mountains of gifts to sift through anymore. There is nothing to assemble. Any wrapping we might do is quite actually the work of but a moment. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(There's plenty of time for wine).</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I count myself fortunate that this shift to something smaller hasn't resulted in big or hard feelings. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Not only have our children matured beyond the stage of development where they are salty that Santa’s magic has always been connected to their parents by cartoonishly visible nylon strings, but we Middle-Agers are salty that we awaken before dawn, whether we want to or not, without any impish joy.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">They wake up slowly, wanting warm liquids and breakfast before commencing a round-robin style gift delivery they see as tradition.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Did you know some people just go all in … they just find their names and start shredding?” my daughter says when I ask her to tell me her favorite part of Christmas morning. “I love that it takes us all day to get through the same amount of presents others tear through in minutes. It’s just nice.”</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And she misses what we all miss: Grandpa setting up his toy trains under the tree, and Grandma nagging him to “let the kids play engineer, for goodness sake!”</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For all the things we lose in this life, there are so many things still to find.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For instance, I find myself in a new camaraderie with strangers in snippets of overheard conversations. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I want to high-five the man at the jewelry store shopping for a gift for his daughter who is finally home for the holidays. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I want to hug the lady at the supermarket who was buying a sweet treat for a loved one in hospice. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I can reread every letter my kids wrote to Santa from memory as I walk past the families waiting in line at the Shopping Mall’s North Pole.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I am grateful my girl is home. And that we will talk late into the night. I will rejoice that for the brief time between now and New Year, she will drive her brother anywhere he wants to go; and he won't drive her crazy. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It seems like every Christmas we've ever shared is playing on a loop. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I feel so lucky I want to knock on wood. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">By the time we are ready to sleep again, we will have laughed, cried, and chatted late into the night with the favorite members of our far-flung families. We will have heard old stories and told some with details that seem entirely new. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We won't want the season to end. </span></p></span><br class="gmail-Apple-interchange-newline" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20691740.post-45271262763261460682023-12-17T03:17:00.000-08:002023-12-17T03:17:00.248-08:00 Accepting a different kind of festive <p><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">The house looks like it always does. There are mountains of clean laundry piled on chairs throughout the downstairs rooms waiting to be folded. Dishes in the sink that have yet to be stacked in the dishwasher. And there are bits of debris from snacks of toast and crackers strewn about the carpet like confetti that need to be vacuumed. </span></p><span id="m_-502857520799990484gmail-docs-internal-guid-bef0409a-7fff-e3b0-a7e1-ebae17144512"><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It's a different kind of festive this year. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The only things here that are reminiscent of a traditional winter holiday season are a garland of some variety of ever-plastic greenery and a sign wishing all who enter a Merry Christmas. Both of which have managed to lurk in their respective haunts perennially. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The cards, ordered late, have arrived but haven't been processed for mailing. A single round of holiday baking has occurred, but my resolve to plan more has ebbed. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ordinarily, we would have a Christmas tree by now. Procured by the time the sun had set on Black Friday. The six-foot balsam would be shedding its needles all over the carpet while the dog and cats would be drinking out of its Christmas-flavored water receptacle. In addition to vacuuming up pine scent on the daily, I would be playing a never-ending game of picking up decorations from the floor and returning them to the low-hanging branches, from whence the cat had scattered them. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I know it's just timing. What with the daughter off at college, not scheduled to return until just about the time Santa is supposed to be finalizing his lists; And the boy being in absolute solidarity for waiting. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> But this new compression has also seemed to wring some of the joy from my holiday heart, leaving me with a complicated math of emptying the storage compartment of all our ancient ornament just in time to put them all away within a fortnight. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Honestly, I wondered about this day. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The first Christmas that slopes with me into middle age. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The first Christmas that'll light has dimmed from childhood joy. Where there are fewer gifts to buy and cards to send. Fewer place settings at the table. And yet despite this winnowing, somehow, even the littlest thing will feel like a gargantuan chore.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I mean … I don't even know if those lazy snowflake light cannons work anymore let alone where in the garage they might have landed. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I certainly would have noticed if I'd had to </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">mow around them. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Or at least I think I would.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This all rattles around in my brain as I sit amid friends during the coffee talk portion of our mid-week run.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Talk of miles and ailments has ended and the banter of baseball starts to wane. Christmas takes its place. The cost of a live tree is only a momentary complaint before postcards from our pasts start to sail around the table. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Who among us hedged their bets at the tree farm by leaving a glove on a contender only to have misplaced the tree and the glove? Who was the earliest riser on Christmas morning and whose mom let them open just one present? What was the strangest tradition?</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">By the end of the hour, I had absorbed so many sweet secrets, that it felt as if I had been visited by the ghosts of my own Christmas’ - past, present, and future. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And I felt more relaxed. I don't have to be ready, I just have to remember. </span></p></span><br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20691740.post-78049908669444117462023-12-10T04:52:00.000-08:002023-12-14T15:16:39.698-08:00A lock on time<p><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #f3f3f3; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Who is that woman? </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Her hair, frizzy and dry, was a tri-blend of color that needed … at the very least … a bit of attention. </span></p><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" /></span><p dir="ltr" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She looked vaguely familiar but I avoided making eye contact. It’s a small place. It would be awkward, if not painful, to stare directly into the mirror. </span></p><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" /></span><p dir="ltr" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If this had been a campground, I would have been the tent pole; with a full circle of fabric cascading around my neck, covering the place I inhabit almost entirely. I held my phone between my two hands, prayer style. I could still feel its warmth even if I couldn’t read the screen. Like the fire.</span></p><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" /></span><p dir="ltr" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It might be nice to be small under the stars. Quiet-like. </span></p><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" /></span><p dir="ltr" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The young woman who had welcomed me motioned to a seat and then disappeared into a back room to collect materials. The place was abuzz with activity. Soft music played while scissor blades whisked against each other. Conversation floated above us in gentle waves. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Before long, she selected strands of my hair, parted and stretched them, then painted and folded each piece between sheets of colorful foil. Layering upward, the woman peering back at me from the mirror looked like she was wearing the roof of a pagoda as a hat.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She is quick efficient and naturally personable. She takes her work so seriously that she uses her spare time to prepare.</span></p><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" /></span><p dir="ltr" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Oh, I didn't have much of an interest in the Barbie movie, myself, but I knew it would be something my clients might want to talk about, so I thought it would be good to see it.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The women in chairs all around me talked about their families. Their pets. The best things to watch on Netflix. They upsold travels and downplayed travails. Keeping the conversation steady and effortless. </span></p><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" /></span><p dir="ltr" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">With cordiality considered there seemed to be no unsafe subjects.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It occurred to me as I sat there in my tinfoil hat, waiting for science and artistry to transform the cantankerous keratinous filaments I had too long ignored, that the so-called journey had led me here kicking and screaming. </span></p><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" /></span><p dir="ltr" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Far far too long, this ritual of self had felt like just another chore. And a chore that could also be fraught with personal failure under the gaze of a professional. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And although I stopped coloring (and trimming) my own hair long ago, I have not managed to keep these tresses any better managed. Nor have I ceased worrying that the state of its split ends and tangles shouldn't be justification for semi-public shaming, But I have accepted my age and the changes it has visited upon my hair and I have committed to increasing the number of visits I make to the professionals per annum. At least two times as we go around the sun. </span></p><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" /></span><p dir="ltr" style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“How has it taken me so long to prioritize,” I wonder each time I leave the salon and sit in my car. My hair feels lighter. Younger. Full of possibilities. And if I squint I can almost recognize the girl in my rearview mirror.</span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20691740.post-36420830360887606202023-12-03T06:01:00.000-08:002023-12-06T12:18:35.203-08:00Adulting in Z formation<p><span style="background-color: #444444; color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; orphans: 2; white-space: pre-wrap; widows: 2;">“When you come can you bring one of the air mattresses?” </span></p><span style="background-color: #444444; color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;" /></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: #444444; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">An undulating college commute for the holidays - where we spend a few non-continuous weekends together as a family here and there before a month-long respite takes hold - was underway and negotiations were getting heated. </span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444; color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;" /></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: #444444; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">“I could” … I retorted cheekily. “But why do you want it?”</span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444; color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;" /></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: #444444; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">“We need something to sit on … and something for people to sleep on if they stay over,” she replied, reasonably enough. The months-long season of multi-festivity was coming in fits and starts, but the one thing she has this year that she didn't have last term was a place to keep her stuff during the interim.</span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444; color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;" /></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: #444444; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">Though she is living in a dorm, I would tell anyone who asks that she and her roommates live in a pretty “epic” apartment. </span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444; color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;" /></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: #444444; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">Wording it that way makes me feel as if my own salad days weren’t so long ago.</span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444; color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;" /></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: #444444; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">Now, I never lived in a fifth-floor corner city apartment with secure access and hardwood floors. I didn’t have a balcony-like window that looked out lovingly over my campus.</span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444; color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;" /></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: #444444; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">But I did have a windowless room in a basement that was all my own, even if it was more than seventeen blocks away.</span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444; color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;" /></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: #444444; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">And I NEVER would have asked my mother to donate the old folding cot in the basement to my cause to find accommodation and party furnishings. </span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444; color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;" /></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: #444444; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">I would have resorted to doing what all the countless Xers of my Generation did - take a walking tour of the better neighborhoods on trash day. </span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444; color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;" /></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: #444444; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">That is, after all, how I procured one AMAZING mid-century modern sectional couch with a Hollywood Regency flair that lasted more than a dozen years – through one party after another, one apartment after another – all the way into the new century. </span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444; color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;" /></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: #444444; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">And I would still have it now if I hadn’t felt the call of nostalgia and released the blonde, jacquard beauty to a new generation of college students one fateful trash day. </span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444; color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;" /></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: #444444; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">But that is not how Gen Z rolls. Afterall, my daughter points out, there are epidemics of bed bugs and other forever-pests to think about now.</span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444; color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;" /></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: #444444; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">“One of the air mattresses will be fine,” she says with a heavy sigh, as if wading through my nostalgia were the physical equivalent of swimming the English Channel. </span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444; color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;" /></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: #444444; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">“Or … it would have been fine if the dog didn’t puncture the thing last time we had guests,” I said, narrating the sudden memory I had miraculously withdrawn from my post-pandemic memory bank and accepted as true without the arduous task of investigating the evidence so as to avoid doing a thorough search of all 11 tote bags in bottom of the front hall closet where the thing is probably jammed.</span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444; color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;" /></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: #444444; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">“How about I get you a bean bag lounger instead … Did you know companies make human size dog beds now? They are so versatile. They can be a lounger, or a couch, or a bed.”</span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444; color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;" /></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: #444444; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">“I know! We live in WILD times.”</span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444; color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;" /></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: #444444; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">“The only thing wilder would be if a drone had delivered the 40-pound, vacuum-packed box to your balcony window within the five- to seven-day shipping window. … As it is, we’re going to need your brother’s help to schlep it up the stoop and into the elevator.”</span></span></p><span style="background-color: #444444; color: #f3f3f3;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;" /></span><p dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-variant-ligatures: normal; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: #444444; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">“I’m sure dragging it out to the sidewalk on move-out day will be much easier.” </span></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20691740.post-67839272298382064842023-11-26T09:26:00.000-08:002023-11-26T09:26:00.131-08:00Togetherness<p> We separated this holiday season. </p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I took one kid and a carload of stuff.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">He took the dog, and the pickup truck, and a trailer with an old rusted tractor riding on top, the kind that could weather an apocalypse and be in working order for any surviving organisms with opposable thumbs to use its mower deck and horsepower to rid their gardens of choking bittersweet.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Working the tractor requires a little more finesse than that,” he’d say if he were reading over my shoulder right now. </p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">But he is not. </p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">There is nothing fair about my feelings. </p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I downplay his lofty intentions on this family weekend to wax defensive about the straw I had pulled. It was my job to pick up all the humans after the workday had ended, whether at home or in Boston and drive them to Maine.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I was not looking forward to the task: the traffic, the crosswalks, and people leaning on car horns. I was not sure I could be the aggressive driver I needed to be to muscle my way through rush hour. I imagined we’d be driving for days. </p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">But I didn't say anything.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I just listened to him go on about wanting to get in at least one day’s work at his mom’s house before the rain and the rest of the family descended for a festive weekend.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">His parting words gave me hope, though I feel guilty about wishing.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Maybe I'll pick up the girl in the city on my way. That way it would be a straight shot for you.”</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">My heart skipped a beat. </p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">If you do that PLEASE take a picture. I want to see you pull up to the dorm towing a beat-up Massey Furguson through Bean Town. </p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">A truly Tom Sawyer move. Painting this fence would be so much fun!</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">He said he would keep me posted.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">But he didn't. Staying vigilant about the sway of his heavy load was foremost in his mind.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I didn't hear a peep from the college student either. </p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">So I stalk them both using the surveillance powers of Find My Phone. His dot traveled steadily along the Mass Pike, while hers hovered over the address she proudly calls home. </p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“I knew when your dot was in your dorm</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">and his dot was zooming up 290 that your twains would not meet. So I will be hunting down Huntington tomorrow.”</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">She blinked twice and narrowed her eyes.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">WOops.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“How often do you use location services to find me,” she asked.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I had broken the first rule in cyberstalking: Talking about cyberstalking. Don’t let on that you know she was at El Jefe’s at midnight last Friday night. </p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">It’s not as if your intent was nefarious. </p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">You never intended to call her out for her choices. You just liked knowing her dot was out there somewhere that I could still see and feel connected. Even if only remotely so.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">And of course, I imagined she got the churros and that were cooked to perfection with just the right amount of cinnamon sugar.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">On this, I hope, we can come together. </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20691740.post-31534395971584670382023-11-19T03:04:00.000-08:002023-11-19T03:04:00.147-08:00Well enough<p> <span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">The clicker isn't working.</span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-99b67f7e-7fff-37eb-8cf8-b05808131ac7"><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I rattle it against my hand. Twice. Then I try again.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This time it turns the television on, but it won't change channels or lower the volume.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The batteries are probably losing their juice. It's been a few minutes since the loud, announcer voice started repeating the intro to a broadcast I don't want to see. It might be a show or a movie or a swatch of the news. It doesn't matter. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I could probably get used to the narration repeating if I focus on closing my ears. It occurs to me that I don't have the stamina right now to process new things. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And I don't want to get up. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I am comfortable under a blanket on the couch: a putty-colored throw that is filled with down but otherwise nondescript. It is more subdued than the one made of t-shirts that my husband prefers, or the green woolen Mexican blanket that is older than our marriage. The longer it stays, the harder it is to jettison. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My blanket is different, though. It is timeless. It blends in so well it seems invisible. It has no weight. It has no color. And I have no recollection of its purchase. It just appeared one day when I was cleaning out a closet. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The moment I saw it I had an urge to hold it to my face. Rubbing it against my cheek. It felt uncommonly soft and smelled of cedar. It came as a surprise when it spoke to me. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I felt like I'd just met an old friend. A friend I do not wish to offend.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Like I did my old hand mixer - the one I bought at a hardware shop one Thanksgiving eve when I was in my early 20s. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was in my first apartment, hosting my first holiday dinner but it had never been my job to make the mashed potatoes. Now it was. In addition to the delicate-fleshed yellow gold spuds, I selected the Easy Mix Proctor-Silex hand mixer with five speeds. $11.99 plus tax.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I didn’t think about the purchase, I just stopped by the hardware store after I’d packed the car with groceries and carried the only electric-mixing product they had on display to the register.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It worked well enough, even though I had to apply a certain directional pressure I alone understood, to keep the top speed humming. And it continued to work well enough for the next thirty years as other machines started taking up residence, such as a stand mixer; an immersion blender; and even a classic, low-tech, potato mashing tool, which also came to live in our kitchen.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Though … I must admit, the allure of seasonal displays of perfect pyramids of kitchen gadgets over the years had tempted me to replace the working-well-enough mixer with one that might work more perfectly than well enough.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wouldn’t it be nice, I thought, to have a pretty mixer that came with a storage compartment? One that would work at all speeds without hesitation? One that I had thought about for more than a moment and that would fulfill some understanding I have about my life?</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">YES! I admitted. “Yes! Thirty years is a good long time,” I reasoned. “It may even be wise to replace such an elderly appliance. Who knows how much moldering cake batter is kerning around inside the works.”</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So I marched into the hardware store and bought the prettiest, most elegantly designed mixer they had – a six-speed beauty with a snap-on case. $37.99 plus tax. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And when I got it home and fired it up … it worked well enough.</span></p><br /><br /><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></p></span><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20691740.post-63167337077934435392023-11-12T16:05:00.001-08:002023-11-12T16:05:00.149-08:00Training day<p>“You want to go to the gym?”</p><p>If you are like me … you probably don’t.</p><p>You’d rather curl up in your favorite chair with a cup of coffee and a sleeve of crumbly cookies and scroll through Netflix for something that will take your mind off the world for roughly 45 to 120 minutes.</p><p>On the other hand, also like me, you might be painfully aware that the question is coming from a gangly teenager who is only two months (and a few days) shy of being eligible to drive himself.</p><p>After that … It is a mere 18 months until he’s packing up for college.</p><p>And then he won’t be asking me to do much of anything.</p><p>It is all part of the unspoken contract we have with ourselves as parents to soak it all in before it’s all over.</p><p>Time is of the essence.</p><p>So I change into clothes that might facilitate a four-way “stretch,” and start the search for my keys.</p><p>He raises his hand and swipes the air. Around his finger hangs the electronic fob. </p><p>“Ahem.”</p><p>He might have stood there forever, silently dangling the non-jangling device, before I would have noticed my hunt would be for naught.</p><p>“I’ll drive.”</p><p>His voice, as he says this, is imbued with more snark than excitement. The last time we made this trip I had insisted on driving and, well, let’s just say I made one navigational error that would live on in infamy in the novice driver’s mind. He is careful in his gloating. Knowing full well he still has to play to the audience, who is at this moment feeling a bit chagrined. </p><p>“Of course. You could always use more practice driving at night.”</p><p>We don’t speak much on the commute. Instead, we listen to the soundtrack he has carefully programmed so that it won’t require him to take his eyes off the road even for a second. It sounds like the fast-beat celebratory music that plays at the end of just about every 80s-era arcade game. I don’t understand how he does it, but the fast-paced beats seem to keep him calm and focused. It makes me want to crawl out of my skin.</p><p>And it makes me realize he’s not such a novice anymore.</p><p>Because in trying to block out the visions of Froggers falling off logs or getting splattered on roadways, I focus on his driving. The starts and stops. The consistency of speeds. Smooth and unlabored. He’s come a long way. Gone are the days we inched toward the end of the driveway … it seems five inches per minute.</p><p>Tonight, in a moonless sky, we will practice using high beams. </p><p>He is good at it. Turning them down the moment a car approaches but before it comes into view. </p><p>Before long we arrived at our destination. We park and head into the gym, I assume, to our separate corners. He will go to the free weights, and I will go to the circuits. </p><p>Do you want me to show you how to use the squat stand?</p><p>I resist the urge to laugh at the oxymoron in that sentence, and just follow along.</p><p>Time is of the essence, especially in the world of personal training.</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20691740.post-21424173154817157112023-11-05T16:46:00.010-08:002023-11-05T16:46:00.149-08:00Safety Third<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">I read with interest linguist John McWhorter's essay on the loss of the freer-ranging childhood of his youth (NYT Opinion Nov. 2).</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">In it he explores the more than five-decade history of childhood between the 1970s and now, wherein our nation's kids increasingly found their movements tethered and under the near-constant observation of adults. </span></span></p><p><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">He surveys the time after chattel enslavement and the industrial age, skipping past civil rights and Jim Crow. He lands in the early 80s where the numbers of kids seen and heard in the wild seem to precipitously decline. </span></p><p><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">We went from teens and tweens on every corner, to witnessing virtually no unaccompanied minors anywhere. </span></p><p><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">He uses studious theories to foment the rational argument that our kids are experiencing a decline in mental health like no other generation because they have no opportunities to navigate our communities alone. </span></p><p><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">He cites thinkers who believe it's the eyes upon them that keep our kids from becoming the stable, reliable adults we think we became. </span></p><p><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">As a member of GenX, and someone who experienced the barely restricted freedom to pedal off into the world alone and unhelmeted - I identify with McWhorter's sense of grief.</span></p><p><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">I, too, believed my childhood was marked by a sheen of magic that has dulled for my children. </span></p><p><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">I say this despite the dangers I know my parents worried about at the time: dog bites, cars colliding with bikes, even the unspeakable attentions of men no one in polite society would have suspected.</span></p><p><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">But McWhorter, like most of us, focused on 1981 as the flashpoint. </span></p><p><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">In my mind and probably the minds of many, the abduction and murder of Adam Walsh at the hands of a stranger is what shattered our idyllic veneer. </span></p><p><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">It changed the way society viewed the ways we could and should protect our children.</span></p><p><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Stranger” became synonymous with danger. And a new crime entered our unshakable belief system: parents who would leave their children alone or let them go anywhere unsupervised for even short lengths of time could be charged with neglect. Even if nothing foul befell their kids.</span></p><p><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">McWhorter makes good points as he implores our fearful leaders to support new laws that won’t criminalize parents for allowing their children to “range” more freely.</span></p><p><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">He's not wrong. </span></p><p><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">In his essay, McWhorter reminds us that on the whole, the dangers we envisioned haven't materialized. Violent crime is down, and children are as safe as they ever were during those magical days of our youth. </span></p><p><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">If they happened before the 1990s.</span></p><p><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">Of course, we now have cars that drivers need cameras to see out of; and a Supreme Court that will let states take away voting rights and health care choices, but they will let just about anyone have a gun. </span></p><p><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">Because of that, our schools have armed guards and active shooter drills because some of our leaders would rather have a right to a private arsenal than a public education. </span></p><p><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">We may think that safety is our FIRST priority, but the reality is that safety figures much, much lower on the list. </span></p><p><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">We should be reminding ourselves as well as our leaders that our desire to make our kids safer has driven innovation: it gave us bicycle helmets; backup cameras, hearing protective earbuds, and protected bike paths.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">We should be reassuring ourselves, too, that most of our children will grow up and become loving and protective members of society. And they will likely have fond memories of their childhoods they wish their children could share. </span></p><p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20691740.post-54303383439842549042023-10-29T04:30:00.001-07:002023-10-29T04:30:00.139-07:00The infancy of a fall<p> </p><p>The dog pounces at the blowing leaves, testing the limits of her collar at the edge of the driveway as we wait for traffic to pass. Her nightly walk always starts this way. Both of us heading in the same direction, a line of webbing between us, pulling against one another. </p><p>It is a kind of give-and-take that the two of us have received and bestowed for a dozen years.</p><p>The sun is momentarily blinding as it dips beneath the trees. Its light channels through red and yellow leaves electrifying the neighborhood and making it seem as if the whole world was on fire.</p><p>In a good way. An exhilarating way.</p><p>When it is finally safe we cross. </p><p>The neighbors have already started the ritual cleansing of their yards. The fruits of their raking and pruning line the sidewalks, ready for an official transport to wherever it is we mulch or compost as a collective good.</p><p>The season is still in its infancy … the blink and you’ll miss it kind of development.</p><p>The crabapples gave up the fight during the summer. For a few years now I've noticed these diminutive trees that live near the mossy side of our dwelling bow out early. Not long after they flower and unfurl foliage, the leaves just seem to slowly give up. Fluttering to the ground here and there until the branches are mostly bare in the eighth month.</p><p>Stressed. I worry the trees might be dying. A fungus or a blight. Something other than old age. </p><p>The sugar maples are holding on to their color while the oaks get ready for their turn. Hickory will follow soon after.</p><p>The drying leaves that have begun their descent, curl into feather-weight shells and crunch underneath our feet as we walk. It is a satisfying sound. </p><p>The dog sniffs at the piles as I scuff along the edges. Careful not to undo the work of the rake. I want to rustle leaves, not feathers.</p><p>A teardrop leaf caught my eye. Its center was a translucent gold while sawtooth edges blazed fiery red. They hung on the shrub like a wave of festive garlands. </p><p>Oh, what a celebration!</p><p>Oh, how I wish I could bark orders at our dogwoods. Get them to burst forth and shuffle off this mortal coil before the municipal sweeping ends … dog-willing.</p><p>But I would be barking up the wrong tree. The leaves will fall when they are good and ready. Certainly, after the birds have feasted on the fruit and left the remnants to molder underneath. </p><p>My internal almanac can predict with witnessed assurance that the town trucks will have just made the switch from vacuums to other winter attachments when the lot will give up the ghost and finally unburden the tree.</p><p>Of course, they will stay put until after the first snow. That's how my memory tells me it happens. And I remind my husband that in those years we are content to let the lawnmower, Mother Nature, and the squirrels building nests recycle the remnants.</p><p>The dog will have a clear view of their abode, and she will remind us as the show piles up there is work for her outside. Haranguing, corralling, squirrel-patrol work. </p><p>Until spring. When we are distracted by the leaves of old when fresh flowers and chutes poke out of whatever remains are left.</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20691740.post-51974883833719689722023-10-22T06:11:00.002-07:002023-10-22T06:11:00.148-07:00Changing spaces<p><span style="color: #eeeeee;">I drummed my fingers on the table. Tapped my foot in imperfect time with the music. My thoughts jumbled an informal to-do list until I decided to finally write it down.</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="color: #eeeeee; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">There was so much to do before we left and I didn’t want to forget a single thing.</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="color: #eeeeee; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">I was filled with nervous energy because in just a three-hour drive (give or take some traffic) we’d be reacquainting ourselves with our daughter, who had, only a month and a few days prior, packed up just a smidgeon of the top-tier elements of her personal collection and moved them to a dorm room in Boston.</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="color: #eeeeee; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">First things first: I had to locate the black, down jacket she’d need now that the temperature was dropping; and the red, bedazzled tights that would certainly not keep her warm in this year’s Halloween costume. </span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="color: #eeeeee; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">She had directed me to her things as if she’d had them mapped. The tights would be in the topmost drawer of her dresser. The coat would be hanging up. </span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="color: #eeeeee; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">I stared straight into her closet, but I couldn't see past the things she’d left behind: Things I’d bought her. A library of children’s books, a zoo of stuffed animals, a rack full of clothes that still fit her body but no longer fit her style.</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="color: #eeeeee; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">And for the very first time since she left I understood that she doesn’t live here anymore.</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="color: #eeeeee; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">Once I find this jacket … and the tights … </span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><em style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">“Oh … if you could bring the curling iron with the small barrel, too, that would be great. You should find it in the bookcase, bottom left basket.” </span></em></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="color: #eeeeee; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">Where in the … ?</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="color: #eeeeee; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">Voila. There it was. The curling iron.</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><em style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;">“Oh .. and some clothes hangers. I don’t know why mine keep disappearing.”</span></em></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="color: #eeeeee; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">Once I fit the clothes hangers into a bag with the other items I’ve unearthed from her room, I would reckon with my nerves.</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="color: #eeeeee; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">The last time I’d been this nervous was just before I met her. I had so many questions.</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="color: #eeeeee; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">What kind of mother would I be? What kind of relationship would we have? </span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="color: #eeeeee; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">Of course, I didn’t take the time to thoroughly explore these questions that flit through the minds of so many parents while we are still elbow-deep in diapers and daycare until we are surprised to find ourselves tiptoeing through a proverbial teenage wasteland. </span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="color: #eeeeee; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="color: #eeeeee; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">My daughter will only be a teenager for a moment longer. </span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="color: #eeeeee; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">Which is the overwhelming feeling I have as we reach her address and wait for her to make an appearance. She is smiling as she exits the building and jogs down the stairs. She gives each of us a hug. Mine is extra long.</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="color: #eeeeee; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">We have so many plans for this weekend. Dinner reservations. Tickets to a home game. Plans for shopping and sightseeing.</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="color: #eeeeee; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">But as much as we have been excited to see her again, she has been preparing herself, too.</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="color: #eeeeee; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">It’s a delicate reunion. </span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="color: #eeeeee; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">We are a different family here and she is the first to know it. In as much as we have prepared to visit, she has prepared to receive us. We are in her city now. </span></p><p style="color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20691740.post-69766381927887507152023-10-15T05:26:00.000-07:002023-10-15T05:26:00.162-07:00Hoping for the best<p><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’ve been thinking about “family” a lot recently.</span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-117043c4-7fff-863e-641d-fe01b0e913d9"><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Particularly about the connections we’re born with … and the connections that fray as we meander through the seasons of our lives. A wall of silence is a reminder that relationships can be as hard as our feelings.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Our wanting to do better than our parents did. Our hoping that we will. And the likelihood that we will fall short seems to be the embodiment of the human condition itself.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A friend reminded me of my own setting and resetting of boundaries as she recounted a rollercoaster ride of familial discord twice removed. The kind of thing that starts as a friend of a friend’s story of hurt and misunderstanding so big that it becomes a telegraphing parable of a story for the ages.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In this story, the daughter had a tumultuous relationship with the father, which had ebbed and flowed over the years in predictable ways. Admiration floated naturally along with the jetsam of off-the-cuff banter that eventually led to a host of invisible wounds that were healed with silence. Some of which she let go, but some gathered to her like scar tissue, overgrowing, becoming proud flesh. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I know the feeling. Anxiety often rules these interactions. We interpret words - sometimes correctly, sometimes incorrectly - and commit them to a dictionary of feelings we’ve written in our minds. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We bring our fallible selves to witness and often we can't help but believe the worst. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My friend’s friend has erected fences and barricades to protect herself. It had been in her best interest. Anything to blunt the hurt, she understood, allowed some form of relationship to remain. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Which is what I had done for a time. Like the friend of my friend, I had harbored the pain of a mother’s harsh gaze and thoughtless words and let them resonate within. I had wondered if love could be extracted and measured. That we just had to accept that love could coexist with unsolicited advice, disappointment-laced judgmental tone, and the occasional I-told-you-so. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But we didn't have to like it. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Avoidance of discomfort sometimes becomes central to our relationships. Not that we shouldn't mitigate abuse via the least taxing ways possible.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After all, avoidance feels like it does the least harm.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But why don't we have an impermeable layer that prevents the muck of our thoughts from drenching us in toxins? </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Maybe that’s where we will find ourselves one day If we were unlucky enough to have been wrong; once avoidance is no longer required … maybe it will be in a box of old letters or the pages of a journal.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Maybe we will find the evidence of the loving parent we had never known or had forgotten.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And we will see ourselves in a different light. A dimmer one that missed enough possibilities to have mattered. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My friend found it heartbreaking. All those years of animosity and keeping oneself at arms-length for naught.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For some reason, I found it comforting. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The note, in my mother’s handwriting, about her joy at some tiny thing I didn't even remember doing, was reassuring that my fears about being unliked, let alone unloved, were unfounded. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Though it didn't erase any of the awkwardness that had existed in our relationship, it reminded me that my feelings are not always as reliable as they seem and that stoicism isn't the absence of love. And that the work of understanding was neither hers nor mine alone. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It may even take more than one lifetime.</span></p></span><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20691740.post-68809307968418711052023-10-08T17:48:00.006-07:002023-10-08T17:48:00.144-07:00Long in the tooth<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;">The cats greet me every morning in the kitchen with big, toothy screeches. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;">They show me with the skeletal ridges of the hard palate as they unhinge their jaws - that they want their breakfasts. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;">I move a new crop of overnight dishes from the counter to the sink, first things first: unearth the coffee machine from this mess we call a kitchen. </span></span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;">One cat sits on the lid of the garbage can and mewls as if the decibel level of her caterwaul has a direct bearing on the amount of vittles I will trickle onto her plate, she watches me intently as I pour from the clear glass canisters rising from the counter like crystal silos in some reimagined castle in Oz. </span></span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;">She knows I can be swayed.</span></span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;">The other cat stays low to the ground and waits impatiently. She silently swishes her tail and paces, drawing figure eights between my ankles until I fill her bowl. </span></span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;">She has learned to scootch the dishware (and herself) into a corner to protect the meal from sibling rivalry. There’s no place like home. There's NO PLACE like home. </span></span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;">The dog, exhibiting all the courage of a cowardly lion, exacts a tax if the cat doesn't cover her work. One swat will send her into the next room. </span></span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;">My son calls the area of the counter I've dedicated to “pet-ween-meal snacks” the treat factory. </span></span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;">“If you stand here for any amount of time you get a curious audience and a standing ovation.”</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;">My family thinks the animals have me trained.</span></span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;">“They get morning treats, afternoon treats, walking into the house treats, oh-I-didn't-notice-you-there startle-me treats. Not to mention the I-just-went-for-a-walk treats and it's-not-long-now-before-I'm-gonna-need-my-after-dinner and just-before-bed treats.</span></span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;">They are even allowed to choose, using their noses to sniff out the treat of greatest desire with the old “pick a hand” gambit. </span></span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;">The magic? They also get what's in the other hand, too. </span></span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;">"You are a pushover."</span></span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;">I've always been a pushover, as my mother used to say. An easy mark. Soft target. </span></span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;">“Maybe you're just kind-hearted.” </span></span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;">My son has entered the chat. </span></span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;">I'd been thinking aloud again. Going over the thoughts that snake through my mind as I wait for the coffee, unaware that there's no cup to catch them has they brew. </span></span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;">The animals have vacated the vicinity now their tummies have been temporarily placated. </span></span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;">“Who called you a pushover? I'll pummel them,” he said dancing and jabbing in at the air. “I’ll p-p-p-pulverize them.”</span></span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;">Pummel. Pulverize. Fighting words that sound like they are stuttered from a bygone era. </span></span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;">I ask him if he’s familiar with the expression. </span></span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;">“Pushover?” He looks at me like he hasn't known me for all 16 of his accumulated years. “Yeah. it just means someone who is easily manipulated. Someone who would do extra things they don't have time to do because … well, I don't know why they'd do it … maybe just because someone asked.”</span></span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: medium;">“Do you think there's a word that means the same thing as pushover … that maybe doesn't have the same n</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">egative connotations?”</span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The boy fell silent as he considered the alternatives. I could see the pages turning through the thesaurus in his mind. </span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And that's when the cats settle in on my lap and the dog curls up at my feet. The house ... even in its cluttered disarray ... feels like home. </span></p><p><b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Maybe the word you are looking for is ‘mom’.”</span></p><p><br /><br /><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20691740.post-69417893858145402272023-10-01T05:14:00.000-07:002023-10-01T05:14:00.138-07:00Raise your hand<p> I raised my hand when the kid’s team asked for volunteers. I was eager. Confident, even, despite my limited knowledge of competitive high school sports and a total lack of technical proficiency with timing devices of any kind.</p><p>What could go wrong?</p><p>I am a runner. I have volunteered at races before. I have perfected the art of safety flag waving and have mastered the three stages of a water cup hand-off: eye contact; flat-handed balance and shoulder-length levitation. The runner can take it from there. Some people think that's it; that's the job. But I know the service isn't complete until we rake the crushed cast-offs into the trash. </p><p> Furthermore? I know these trails like they are in my own backyard. </p><p>So on this particular occasion, I was excited to be in the woods, standing next to my son - who is also a runner but who was injured and unable to participate in this hallowed event - even if I had NO IDEA what to do.</p><p>“Where are the cups?”</p><p>“There are no cups.”</p><p>“Wait. What's the distance?”</p><p>“Two point five miles.”</p><p>“So what do we do?”</p><p>“We literally stand here and keep the runners from going the wrong way. We are figuratively traffic cones.”</p><p>“Ah … we provide direction!”</p><p>“That does not mean coaching,” cautions my son, who has heard the lilt in my voice and knows he must dial back my enthusiasm.</p><p>He punctuates this directive by jamming his hands into his pockets, elbows locked so his shoulders crowd around his ears, and he sighs heavily.</p><p>“No helpful hints, no yelling. Try not to be too excited.” </p><p>None of these kids know you. It will be weird. Try not to be weird. I'm not saying this to hurt your feelings but to protect you … from yourself.”</p><p>“I know that,” I said with all the know-it-all-ness motherhood bestows. “I just want to understand the route. Once they come down the hill towards us, where do they go?”</p><p>“They go down the trail to the right and into the woods on the left where they will loop around and come back this way. When they do come back, we stand facing the other way, so they run through the woods that we kept them out of the first time.”</p><p>I think I've got it: “We point them back up the hill when they emerge?”</p><p>He sensed I was overthinking. </p><p>“Everyone should have previewed the course before the race, and there are chalk markers on the trail. Just relax and it will be fine.”</p><p>He knows better than I do that going above and beyond sometimes only means you will miss your mark completely.</p><p>He was entirely correct because when the first group of runners crested the hill and came barreling toward me, I pointed to where they needed to turn and yelled: “LEFT!!!” Which was the verbal expression of the exact opposite of where I was pointing. </p><p>“TO YOUR OTHER RIGHT!” he hollered over my shoulder. “Don't worry, you got this ... but you can put your hand down now."</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0