Today is my Pop's birthday. He is coming over to my house for dinner and dessert. It'll be quiet and low key, which he likes, and just the three of us.
Today is also the 20 year anniversary of the day the kid and I escaped an abusive relationship and landed in Portland, at my parents house, with the clothes on our backs and very little else.
We've got things to celebrate.
22 November 2011
08 November 2011
A brief sketch of my parents
I wrote this down back in 1992 or 1993. My daughter and I were living with my parents at the time in a lovely, large house in Portland. Some friends of the family had just left after a weekend visit.
We are sitting on the front porch, Mum, Dad and me, discussing which friends and relatives of Janet and Al they had met.
Dad: "I'm thinking of that tall Russian or Slavic fellow who cooked."
Mum: "No, no. That was Michael. He wasn't really Russian, he just pretended to be."
Dad: "Well, he sure could cook. I think he was queer."
Mum: "He wasn't queer - just swishy and posing. He and I had a good hoohaw about French reductionism."
At this point I start laughing. "What's so funny about that?" asks Mum, tolerantly amused.
"The idea of having a good hoohaw about French reductionism with bogus Russian queers is giving me a good hoohaw. French reductionism!" says I.
We return to the discussion of other people's relatives.
We are sitting on the front porch, Mum, Dad and me, discussing which friends and relatives of Janet and Al they had met.
Dad: "I'm thinking of that tall Russian or Slavic fellow who cooked."
Mum: "No, no. That was Michael. He wasn't really Russian, he just pretended to be."
Dad: "Well, he sure could cook. I think he was queer."
Mum: "He wasn't queer - just swishy and posing. He and I had a good hoohaw about French reductionism."
At this point I start laughing. "What's so funny about that?" asks Mum, tolerantly amused.
"The idea of having a good hoohaw about French reductionism with bogus Russian queers is giving me a good hoohaw. French reductionism!" says I.
We return to the discussion of other people's relatives.
03 November 2011
Thursday
I did, actually, take a shower. And it felt good, and healthy. And I'm sure I smell better.
But, I did not make it to work. I tried to psych myself up for it, but it just wasn't there. Technically, we are allowed to take three days off for a death in the family, and I can see that being adequate for some distant relative... but I feel like three weeks or even three months might not be enough to come to grips with the loss of my mumsey.
I went over to their house yesterday, to check up on my pop. We were sitting in the living room talking. All of a sudden my head snapped up and i looked down the hall. I heard my mum coming. It was as strong a sensation- both intuited and felt - as I can swear to. Of course, I saw nothing. I felt her presence strongly, but I saw nothing. My pop was blathering on as though nothing had happened. (I shouldn't say 'blathering', my pop doesn't blather, maybe he was 'holding forth'... he is a retired college professor, after all.)
I had an email from one of my mum's best friends. She encouraged me to 'stay strong' as, she said, Kathryn would want, no, demand. Well, that may be true. My family is fucking stoic. While we are quite loving, we do not express ourselves fully or dramatically, or effusively, or even physically. We hugged my mum. We give pop a 'hearty handshake'. That's his comfort level.
I'm going to chat with my therapist tomorrow. I will probably cry. I have to believe that I will be in a safe space to do so. Although, being raised as I was, I tend to repress those emotions (obviously) and when they are expected is the time I feel least likely to display them. Oh, what a complicated thing is life!
I may just take this whole week off.
But, I did not make it to work. I tried to psych myself up for it, but it just wasn't there. Technically, we are allowed to take three days off for a death in the family, and I can see that being adequate for some distant relative... but I feel like three weeks or even three months might not be enough to come to grips with the loss of my mumsey.
I went over to their house yesterday, to check up on my pop. We were sitting in the living room talking. All of a sudden my head snapped up and i looked down the hall. I heard my mum coming. It was as strong a sensation- both intuited and felt - as I can swear to. Of course, I saw nothing. I felt her presence strongly, but I saw nothing. My pop was blathering on as though nothing had happened. (I shouldn't say 'blathering', my pop doesn't blather, maybe he was 'holding forth'... he is a retired college professor, after all.)
I had an email from one of my mum's best friends. She encouraged me to 'stay strong' as, she said, Kathryn would want, no, demand. Well, that may be true. My family is fucking stoic. While we are quite loving, we do not express ourselves fully or dramatically, or effusively, or even physically. We hugged my mum. We give pop a 'hearty handshake'. That's his comfort level.
I'm going to chat with my therapist tomorrow. I will probably cry. I have to believe that I will be in a safe space to do so. Although, being raised as I was, I tend to repress those emotions (obviously) and when they are expected is the time I feel least likely to display them. Oh, what a complicated thing is life!
I may just take this whole week off.
02 November 2011
What's next
I really should take a shower. My hair is sticking up like fried bread. I went to the store like that yesterday because I just don't care. Of course, it's worse today.
I really should drag my ass to work. At least for a few hours. I don't want to be around anyone though. Maybe I'll go in the afternoon when most people are gone. Actually, that's a pretty good idea because it will also get me away from the people in my household.
Sigh. That sounds so grudging and hostile. T is being great, of course, very solicitous, very caring. But she is emotionally needy as well. And is frustrated because she wants to hear all the details and I just don't want to review them. I mean, I told her plenty about the end already but she just wants more than I feel capable of giving. She keeps suggesting that I should 'talk about it'... like a '70's after-school special or something. It's just not my way.
So, if I'm going to try the office today, I'd better not drink quite so much... that'll be my goal.
I really should drag my ass to work. At least for a few hours. I don't want to be around anyone though. Maybe I'll go in the afternoon when most people are gone. Actually, that's a pretty good idea because it will also get me away from the people in my household.
Sigh. That sounds so grudging and hostile. T is being great, of course, very solicitous, very caring. But she is emotionally needy as well. And is frustrated because she wants to hear all the details and I just don't want to review them. I mean, I told her plenty about the end already but she just wants more than I feel capable of giving. She keeps suggesting that I should 'talk about it'... like a '70's after-school special or something. It's just not my way.
So, if I'm going to try the office today, I'd better not drink quite so much... that'll be my goal.
01 November 2011
Google reader
If an older post pops up in your reader, don't bother with it. I edited it to delete my darling mumsey's last name. There are a couple of computer savvy relatives that I would rather didn't read my personal stuff...
Cheers, all.
e
Cheers, all.
e
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