DNA and staying engaged

DNA

This weekend I have had a lot of time to myself. Now I don’t mind it much of the time, but this weekend I started to feel a twinge of loneliness. Maybe because 2 of my closest friends are going thru health issues. Maybe I am just feeling vulnerable today.
Although I have friends here, I’m not so sure if something happened to me that I would have a “person”. I’m sure this is why humans partner up. You need a witness to your life. You need one other person, at least that cares if you had a good day or a bad day. Damn, I messed that up. No “other” and no children. So sometimes I just get a little spooked about what will happen if I become ill. ( I don’t want to go there!)

When I think about my family, what influenced me growing up, in a way, I think we just recycle based on what we saw or heard. Or perhaps it’s just instinct in some tribes.
I was reading something my Aunt Helen wrote about her sisters. About Aunt Jennie, the youngest: “She was a friend to me. We were always together and I miss her very much. She wrote me the nicest notes, which I will keep forever. She must of thought I was God when she wrote those notes. And every thing wrong became right when I read her notes. But what I miss most is that at 6AM, every single morning until she died, she would look out the window and say hi and wave and go make her coffee and I could see her drinking her coffee and saying her prayers. This was like clock work. And every night, she knew I went to bed at 8:45, she would look up and say goodnight and then pull her curtain, turn off the big light and leave the curtain open a little so I could see her or see if there was something wrong because her husband worked at night and that way she did not feel alone or afraid.”
And about Aunt Annie, who never married and lived her whole life downstairs from Aunt Helen she writes, “ Annie, the banker, story teller and friend to everybody. Family first, she always wanted family first.” And what she writes about Carly, my grandma, who I am now realizing I am sort of like, “ Carly was a fighter, nurse, and a “go along” person. When people in the neighborhood had to go to a doctor she was the one who went along because most people only spoke Italian, so she would translate for them.

But memories are subjective. Yes, Carly and Annie were close. I happen to also know that she and Aunt Annie fought like crazy, and then forgave each other. I remember as a child hearing my grandma on the phone with Aunt Annie, yelling, then just slamming the heavy iron phone into the cradle with such anger. Then half hour later, they were friends again. That’s a bit unbalanced. This craziness went on every day. So its not really all so rosy….
The aunts all lived within 2 houses. They could all see each other. Is this something that comes with our DNA? Because when I feel the most alone the most vulnerable, I want to be with my sisters. Sometimes I have a thought about moving back, closer to the fold, closer to Gina so I will have this security blanket. Then I think are you crazy? That comes with a lot of crap, not to mention bad weather.





Staying engaged

It seems I spend many hours trying to understand why my mom now, at age 77, only enjoys the casino. She really is only marginally interested when we talk on the phone. My life seems very beige to her. And honestly, to me as well!

I think I sort of get it. Historically our family (based on the aunts) needs to be engaged in life. We suffer from a need to know what’s happening now and what’s coming up next, not only for us but also for everyone around us. Hence, the “network”!
At a certain point in the aging process, with the exception of doctor’s appointments and a few family events, there are no big future plans, no upcoming trips, no weddings or anniversaries. Future plans are limited based on what you can and cannot do because you are on the exit ramp of life. In the casino, life is filled with possibilies, noise, and movement. It’s a little bit forbidden and it’s all in the present tense. It’s not like you can “plan “ to win or lose, it just happens. You are engaged. It’s an equal playing field, no one is old or young, and everyone is there to play.

Play. Something most of us don’t allow for ourselves. So I get it, although I still don’t know if it would be my choice.

Fern's Kitchen

For most of my life growing up, my mom's kitchen annoyed and amazed me at the same time.
My parents did not believe in the home upgrade so the same basic kitchen that was in the house they purchased in 1968 remained until that house sold in 2001. Mom was always ok with this.

The annoying parts:
No dishwasher, unorganized pots and pans, not enough counter space, old, old Formica tops, no great knives and the messiest silverware drawer ever. If you washed dishes and someone was in the shower, they ended up with third degree burns.

The amazing parts:
Always a great meal.

When mom sold her house and moved into a shared house with Vince and Sharon, they built her a small kitchen in her part of the house. For some crazy reason it's a smaller replica of the same bad kitchen she always had!
No counter space, no garbage disposal, no dishwasher, no good knives, limited power outlets, and a low sink that kills the back when you are washing dishes. I call this the camper. And if you leave the kitchen door open while you cook anything at all, the smoke alarm goes off in the entire house. Really loud. And annoying.
Again, my mom does not mind this. It drives me crazy.

Since I have been here we have had a few big family meals.
Between Dec.23 and Christmas Day she made 50 meatballs, tomato sauce with pork neck bones, baked 15 pork chops, roasted a pork loin, made pasta, ravioli and Italian wedding soup (with 50 smaller meatballs!). I made stuffing and salad, chopping with only one chopping surface. All in a space smaller than a master bathroom.

I personally did dishes at least 10 times. We had family meals, just the 12 of us, at least 4 times. My mom was exhausted, but happy to have us all there, even though we bicker and complain about the camper.

Lots of love goes into all that cooking. Which is shared through the food. And in the end, who cares if the kitchen is top notch?

Tribe time

I arrived in Cincinnati last night to begin my 10-day holiday stay.
My flight was full of families, but it went quickly. Gina was, I think, happy to see me. She got to pick me up without anyone with her...a small miracle! We had a chance to talk on the way home, mostly about how Christmas is just not as fun as it once was...too many self-involved teenagers. I remember when Vincent was born (23 years go) and that first Christmas I came home. The family chemistry had changed. Everything revolved around "the baby".
I remember thinking, what happened here??? Adult conversation was limited. As soon as the baby made any sound, everyone's attention was diverted.

Many things have changed in the last 20 years but, I think in the last few years we have had yet another big shift. My nieces, 21, 20, 19 are all very much into can you top this. To the point of inappropriate. I am at a loss as to what to talk to them about. I have tried movies, music, tv, fashion. It's all a one-way street. I say, "Did you see the latest whatever show”. Response: I this, I that, my friend this, I do, I am. Never much of an exchange. You must be up for the blather of "I know you are, but what am I" mentality. It’s just sort of uninspired, yet annoying.

Mom Tina and Gina all spend too much time talking about them. This bothers me. I want to just ignore them and spend time with the grown ups. But no. We have the tribe mentality. Even though I think they are adults, they act like babies. They expect that we should plan meals, activities, rides. Again annoying.

So I am trying to find my place in this tangled web and maintain some sense of boundary.

I am trying my best to be in neutral with everyone. Stay tuned.

Bob Braun

Today I cleaned out my t-shirt drawer and at the bottom was an authentic vintage t-shirt that says The Bob Braun Show.
This is classic Cincinnati kitsch! Of course, it’s on the small side and it has a few stains, but all in all, its in good shape.
Who should have this treasure, who could squeeze into it? A few things came to mind. First off, it used to be owned by my brother Tony. No one could squeeze into a t-shirt like Tony. I wish I could find a photo of this! It brings to mind more than one instance of his fashion felonies! The thing I realize now at age 52 was that he was so young when he died and when you are young, you can pull off allot of bad fashion and still maintain some sense of cool. Not so much when you are older!

I thought of giving the shirt to one of his daughters, but they don't remember Bob. And both of them inherited our ample bosoms! Bob would be very distorted...not good!

Then my friend Monica came to mind. She qualifies because she is a friend of both Tony and myself!
And she was buying and wearing vintage clothes in 1972. She could put together fabulous, funky outfits from thrift stores across Ohio and Kentucky. This is part of her legacy, this cool vintage look. And of course, she is tiny, so the shirt will fit. I can't wait to see how she works it in!

So Monica, if you are reading this, I just packed the t-shirt in my suitcase and now we have a reason to get together next week! Details to come....

Gratitude

I read a blog today about someone who lost 85% of thier hearing and how they were dealing with a new surgery to hopefully correct it. It reminded me that the reason I started to write was to document my gratitude. It seems I have slipped a little so here is my short list of things for which I am thankful::

* My health, that I remain cancer free, on my way to fitness and 30 pounds lighter
* For my crazy family and that right now, today, all is well, everyone is relatively happy and healthy
* For my friends
* For my ability to create something from nothing, every single day, without fail
* For my neverending ability to earn a living
* For my clients, vendors and business associates who have supported me this year
* For my dog, although I'm not sure who is the boss of who!
* For all my new stuff!
this computer, my fabulous bathroom, the deck and even the cheap, but cute tshirts from Old Navy!
* For my old stuff: my beautiful home, my sturdy Honda and somewhat functional kitchen

And, most importantly, for my ability to get up everyday and see the glass half full.

Thank you, universe for a fabulous life.

Saturday Shopping

When I was a young adult, every Saturday after my mom got her hair done, we went shopping. We had a window of time. We had to leave before my dad got up and before anyone decided to stop by and just hang out at the 5058 kitchen table. Usually it was with both my sisters. Sometimes there was an agenda, but most times it was pure retail therapy. Tina and I both worked and we always needed work clothes. Gina at 7 and 8 years old HATED to shop, but she had to go with us because she was a child and she was not going to stay home with Dad and Grandpa. Almost always, we were on the hunt for sale clothes, shoes, purses, bras..The category being "things you wear on your body".
My mom led the charge. She drove, she directed, she settled disagreements between us, she gave us her opinion whether we wanted it or not and shopping got done. Power shopping. With lunch and then more shopping. My mom would encourage us to buy things if it was a good deal and if we wavered, she bought it for us. She rarely bought things for herself. Looking back I'm not sure when she shopped for herself.

This tradition went on for many years past when I lived in Cincinnati. Eventually Gina loved to shop and the 3 of them would go every Saturday. Sometimes they would shop for house wares or antiques or they would have to stop at Home Depot or Target.
Now that my mom was a little older, lunch was first, then shopping. Now they had to bring Leah, who HATES shopping because she is not staying home with her Dad or by herself.

And when Gina moved here, we continued the tradition at least one day on the weekend, time permitting. We shopped for all kinds of stuff. We expanded! We would go to swap meets, outlet stores, Ikea, and the old favs like Sam's Club, Ross, TJ MAXX and Target. There was always something we needed, wanted, had to have.

We took it for granted, that time together.

This week my mom and Gina flew in for a Thanksgiving visit. Although I love seeing them, and being with them I mostly felt sad.
My mom cannot shop at all. She's lost her ability to walk, the most critical of all shopping attributes. She still has the desire and we try, but the real truth is that most stores are not set up for the disabled. Only a few have motorized carts. And in my mom's case, we have to be right near her because in addition to not being able to walk, she has a sight limitation; so driving the cart is iffy at best. And the acceptance of her owning a wheelchair or a motorized craft is something she has not yet been able to get her arms around. On more than one attempt to shop we have had to clear off a shelf so she could sit down because her legs have given out and she is in PAIN.
Perhaps for her, it feels like she is like giving in to it. Honestly, I don't know the answer. All I know for sure is that now it's so very stressful to shop at all if my mom is around. She does not want to stay home and miss out, but she knows that going with us is not going to work.
Of course, she still wants to go. Its that power shopper that still lives inside her.

And I know this for sure: now my sisters and I spend most of our time discussing what to do about mom, how to make it better, less humiliating, less boring, less lonely. That is how we spend our sister time. If we shop together, we are guilt ridden that we have been gone too long. The joy of our group "retail therapy" has temporarily been suspended for us.

Time and aging have stepped in and adjusted our tradition. I am trying to get to that "evolved" place in my head.
The one that allows me to want to subscribe to the idea that just spending time with my mom is enough. It seems all she has now is time, memories and Gina's list of things to buy.
Because old habits die-hard. And once you are a power shopper, it seems it stays with you, no matter what.

For all those years and years of tradition, I want to say thank you. And I am hoping we can start a new tradition, where we are happy with talking about shopping, and just having a little lunch.

Writing Craze

I think I must have a ton of stories in me because all I want to do is write. Maybe its because I spend so much time alone and all I do is observe, or maybe it's just time for my stories to be told. Perhaps I am only writing to the void of cyberspace. Heaven knows, I have no one to pass things on to. No one to really cherish my history. And in a way, that is very liberating. Because I can write from my heart, I don't have to worry about having hurt anyone's feelings or that I forgot to mention someone or something. I can pick any subject and write my angle. Sometimes it takes doing that to see that some things actually were pretty funny, even though at the time it was an annoying or painful event.

I've been talking about writing for a very long time. So now, at least I am taking action!
Write on!