
After the long drive up to Connecticut the males on the trip needed a break while daughter and I unpacked. Precious photo I thought.
I work with books everyday since I deal in information, education, and outreach with my webwork. In addition, I love books. They are an addiction for me. I never travel without one or two in my backpack. I keep one in my purse to read while waiting for people. I have the hardest time weeding my book collections each time we move.
I grew up with a mother who read to us each night. We were not well off in terms of money, so sometimes she had to read adult books to us for entertainment. I am sure that she cleaned them up as she read them to us, we as children would never know. I remember a time when I was about six and we were in transitional living status while my dad was changing jobs. We were in this cute little house in a small mountain town with very little to keep us (me and my brother and sister) entertained. On the shelf were some books that the prior owner/renter had left behind. One was a western about a cowboy named Red Ryder. My Iinternet research found at least one book written by S.S. Stevens that has Red Ryder in the title. Well, each night my mother would read us a chapter from this book before bedtime. I am not a big fan of westerns and I actually cannot remember the story at all today, but at the time we sat on the floor glued to her knees to get every word.
Yesterday, my daughter called half laughing and half crying. She said her newborn son was just like his father. When I asked her to explain, she said that every time she picked up one of the many childrens books that she had in the baby room and started to read to him, he would cry. She tried reading while looking at him, while looking at the book, with expression, without expression, soto voce, etc. Each time he would crinkle his face up and cry. She could sing to him, listen to all kinds of music with him, dance with him, and all of these activities brought him joy…but the open book thing he did not like. Her husband does not read so that is why she compared the baby to him.
“What are we going to do, mom?”
I answered that we would keep on trying and just wait until he can start to understand words, focus on pictures, etc. Her response was, “I want you to come down to the house this weekend and try to read to him. I want to see what he will do.”
I just couldn’t help laughing. What a joy he is going to be.
It is an interesting time in my life and the lives of my children. About two to three years ago when my son was too busy with college and friends and my daughter was too busy with a weekend social life and her husband, my husband and I made a conscious decision that we had to go forward with our lives. We would have to fill our weekends with our own interests and hobbies because our children were busy with their lives and could not fill ours. We knew that we would have to settle for seeing them every few months, even though they lived very close.
Therefore, on weekends our project was to find a quiet country place to which we could retire. It had to be on the water for my husband’s comfort. I only needed a view…mountain, stream, valley…didn’t make a huge difference to me. Waterfront property on the other hand is very, very, very expensive…even if found in remote areas of the East Coast. So it took many weekends to find something. With some compromise we found a narrow, very expensive lot and decided that this would be our retirement home. It was a little more than an hour from where our children might be living, but we wouldn’t get to see them much anyway with their busy social lives.
Well, here is my warning to all of you who have very social children in their early twenties. When they reach their mid-twenties to late twenties, they suddenly need you. They need your expertise on financial matters; your free time for babysitting; your weekends for socializing when their spouse is gone and baby is the only company. And, perhaps most interesting, your male child will suddenly want your opinion on furniture, wall colors, floor refinishing, and kitchen cabinets! It seems as if my entire life has changed its focus in a matter of weeks.
My weekend—THIS weekend—I am probably going to be keeping my daughter company shopping for something…don’t know what the errand is yet. I have also learned that I will be helping my son paint his condo as well as check out a furniture module he wants to purchase. I sat with my son just now discussing a “da Vinci theme” with warm colors. We were learning how to pick and match and discussing whether a natural floor stain would look better rather than a walnut stain after he refinishes his condo floors. My free time on the weekend is gone. And, of course, since I love them both and want to spend time with them, I will find another way to get my errands done. I know that this ability to spend time with each of them can change in the blink of an eye.
By the way, you would have to know my son to realize how outstandingly strange this is to be discussing ‘da Vinci decorating themes”.
Well, I learned my lesson a few days ago and am composing this blog in MSWord…instead of online. I did several blogs which disappeared into thin air with a Blogger response something like…’Houston, we have a problem, we know it, we are working on it, we won’t get back to you on it…so try again later.” I was so irritated having spent so much time on the blogs. Then I saw that most of my posts to other sites also never made it…although I got no such error message! It is sort of like being in parallel worlds, but we don’t know when the lines converge.
I was reading on of manababies blogs regarding her relationships with close and distant relatives and the death of her grandfather. I have had so many of the same feelings. I am the one blood relative of my immediate family (now that my younger sister passed away) that lives on the East Coast, all the rest of them live in
I do know that the death of my sister a few years back really brought us all much closer together. It was the big neon sign on the wall that said ‘Time is passing…How are you living out YOUR life?’ We started emailing more often and trying to make plans together. Then the recent death of my mother brought my sister and I much closer as we went through the process of obituaries, dinners, etc. I began to realize that my sister is a very unspiritual person. She gets irritated by religious myth and really irritated by people who practice religion on holidays and family funerals only. She got into a little spat with my sister-in-law who was raised as a Catholic but doesn’t attend church anymore and hasn’t for decades. My sister-in-law at the last minute wanted to have us ‘light a candle’ for mom at a church in downtown
My brother (the conservative one) was with Mom when she died. She passed in a matter of an hour or so, he and Dad were the only ones there. He says that she squeezed his hand and looked up at him, briefly and smiled just be fore she died. I am assuming that she actually did that, as I don’t think he would be trying to make it easy for us. Mom was cremated at her request. We had a small viewing at the funeral home for immediate family but no funeral or memorial service. The big family dinner was mostly people looking at pictures and reminiscing. It was not a formal sit-down but a buffet at my brother’s home. There was no real opportunity for words to be spoken in memory of my mother. Clearly some of the old Italian relatives there were confused about the informality of it all. My dad was probably relieved as he hates ceremony of any kind. I wished there had been an opportunity which forced me to say something…but I am getting more Buddhist and realize that the center of me is at peace and what surrounds me and what decisions are made outside do not need to be fought over. Not in this instance anyway. My mom knows I loved her, my family saw me give six weeks to her care and they know I loved her, I spent many hours with her, so I am at peace and do not need symbolism to solidify it. On the other hand, if we would have had a funeral Mass, I could have dealt with that process also. The priest would have called my views here dictatorial relativism…nope, it is truth. An as Ghandi said, God is truth.