Rebellion

 I’m no longer postponing joy. Or anything, really.

My whole life has been spent relegating things to “later…another time… not right now.” Some of it is thanks to waiting for other things to happen first, and some of it has been waiting on other people (who never show up because I think we’ve had that conversation, and we haven’t), and some of it has been my own fears and insecurities about bad stuff that would happen if…

Three years ago and change I made a start of doing new things because I wasn’t getting any younger. I’ve built on that by pushing through my discomfort, reaching out, connecting—my life as N and G’s mom set the stage for everything that’s happening now.

Once, I might have pulled back, withdrew, hid.  Not now. 

Connection, action, JOY. This all happens NOW.

I’m no longer putting things off. And joy is everywhere. And nobody takes that away from me.

It’s yours, too. You only need eyes to see it.

Holding Space, Grace

 Not going to lie, Elder makes me insane six ways to Sunday.

Even so, his life is a master class in what grace looks like. Tonight, I picked him up from work; the original plan was I would take him to our church for ashes later in the evening. I came up with a different idea as I drove to pick him up.

I proposed another church—one he knew, and more importantly, had an elevator. He didn’t need convincing: that became the plan. He found us a parking spot and didn’t balk at the walk that came with it. We arrived late to a packed church and found places to stand in the back. I became aware of someone looking our way. Elder whispered the who and rejoined “I want to say hi after.” 

He looked at me carefully. “I have feelings about this,” I muttered back. He stared at me. “Mom, I’m asking you.”

I harrumphed. I’ve written plenty about the folks who have ill-used and/or ill-treated elder over the years, and one of them fell in that camp. I’d sooner see them burn in hell than put on a face.

“Mom,” elder reiterated, “I am asking you.”

Well, fuck. It’s not like he doesn’t know why I feel what I feel; we’ve discussed it ad nauseum. He wants to go say hello, and as far as he’s concerned, we’re a unit, and he’s not doing the thing without me.

Also? We’re in church. 

What am I always saying about walking the walk?

So. We do the thing. He’s happy. It doesn’t kill me.

As crazy as he makes me, he has a heart that is huge, full of grace, forgiveness, and mercy.

He can teach me a thing or two.

Embracing All the Wins

In light of all the insanity, sturm and drang and what may be the end of everything, I want to shine a light on all that is good.  Elder hit the quarter century mark over the weekend, much to his own surprise; adventures with his family ensued, culminating with an Eagles Superbowl win. He couldn’t ask for more than that.

The other big thing that happened last week was that he was finally named Employee of the Month.  Roughly eight years in the making, he actively sought and received feedback from his peers and supervisors to help him improve his skills. But more than this, he has been persistent enough, and fortunate enough, to have his supervisors and coworkers in his corner these last nine years to support, coach, and encourage him. When we parents were taught all about the importance of natural supports, the love and support of people in the workplace, this was treated as an aspirational, if not achievable thing. After all, this means people taking extra time and energy to support, coach, and encourage, and as many people living this particular dream can attest, it is freaking HARD to find this kind of environment, unless people intentionally create and nurture it.

Once upon a time, my teenager knew exactly what he wanted to do: work the front desk checking people in at his favorite place.  Although he was offered jobs in housekeeping and childcare, he persisted. He knew what he wanted, and he wouldn’t settle for less. He took the volunteer position doing what he wanted to do, and proved himself worthy of paid employment. And while there have been stumbles and false starts in this world of work, he continues to learn and grow and make his mark.

Meanwhile, my younger guy, Mr Huggable, stopped me last night and hugged me a long time. If I wondered whether the bigger picture was impacting him, that was my confirmation.

Whatever happens, I know we gave them the best lives possible. We controlled the things we had control over. The rest now is up to whatever the future holds.

Love wins

I’m not rehashing the last 12 days. I’m just not. There’s nothing I can add there.

But I will add something that is uniquely me, because I am the only person who can. I’m deep into this last first in this year of firsts since my mom passed away last February 3. Monday marks the first last with her first yahrzeit. I can’t think of anything that has unfolded in the last couple of weeks without remembering that she did not want to be here for it. Remembrance comes with a fresh wave of grief for everything—including the fact that my young men come of age as marked men.

This morning as I poured myself coffee, I noticed a heart emerging from the foam. And I find myself remembering a passage from Maxine Hong Kingston’sThe Woman Warrior, where Fa Mu Lan takes her father’s place in battle. My mom was the prayer warrior. 

Right now, I am doing everything I know how to do, but she is reminding me there is more I can do.

Full Speed

 Standing at the precipice of another….semester, year, life….

Today is the last day before the next semester. Hubby and I jammed in a packed weekend of socializing and birding before the next go around. I finished last semester with a3.85, which is almost a full point better than I expected.

I’m in it now. In it to win it.

Paulie is gone

 My cranky bug died this morning.

I knew the end was coming. Two years ago, when he still had two eyes and could still climb, the vet wanted to put him to sleep. Despite the fact he couldn’t fly, he could still move around quickly and hold his own with his two cockatiel brothers, so I said no, the end comes when Paulie calls it.

Decline was so gradual I didn’t realize it was happening. He lost an eye to infection last year. And by degrees, he slowed, didn’t climb as high, until I realized yesterday he couldn’t climb at all anymore.

I took him out quite a bit yesterday. He didn’t like me holding him as a rule, but he enjoyed skritches, and he basked in the attention.

Last night, Gary refused to get into the cage. I didn’t cover the cage but closed the door to the room. It’s not the first time he refused to get back in the cage, so as long as I closed off the room, he’d be fine.

At 3 am, I heard Nic and G talking loudly in the hallway.I shushed them and heard the birds chirping quietly behind the closed door.

This morning, I opened the door and George and Gary were sitting on top of the cage. Paulie was on his back at the bottom. 

I thought for a split second to call my mom. She likely already knew, not being on this side of the veil anymore. I brought his still body downstairs, where he lay in state on top of the washer until every one paid respects and said goodbye.

He’s now the guardian of the magnolia behind the garage, attended by wrens and cardinals.

God speed, you little crank pot. We will miss you.

Places of grace

No shortage of struggle this last little while. We all finished our coursework, and wait for grades.

Elder has had some unexpected bad luck with an unfortunate encounter with our Christmas tree and got a lacerated cornea for his troubles. A lot of things remain unresolved and undone. Our house looks like the transition we’re all in. Frankly, as a collective, we’re a mess.

The tree remains half decorated since the eye encounter. I have 3 weeks before the next assault, I mean, semester, and don’t know where to start. So I will start small; chocolate dipped strawberries and pumpkin bread. I wrapped two gifts for a party tonight. 

I noticed a bag next to the tree and peered in. It is filled with gifts and cards for elder from his bingo peeps. And tears sprang to my eyes because there is space for grace for him; he does have people who are not mom and dad who love him. We may not see them, but they exist.

These are the first happy tears in a while.