Wednesday, April 05, 2006

01:02:03 04/05/06

one surefire way to get away from your heart break (for a little while anyway) is to go to a friend’s jewish wedding, eat amazing food, drink a lot, and dance with said friend’s young, hot jewish (and non-jewish) friends. i need to marry a jewish woman. not just because i tend to be very attracted to them, but because they have the most fun weddings i’ve ever been to. this one makes three and the amount of life they give to their celebrations is inspiring ... at least in my experience.

seattle was great. i got to spend some time with some old friends from SF, reconnect with some friends i met in belize, and met some awesome new peeps ta boot. new photos are up on my site for those of you who know where to look for them.

yesterday was a lot of traveling, but i didn't mind so much. i do so love my time alone. one reason i love southwest airlines ... they don't take anything too seriously. my flight into chicago was very choppy. in the last 20 minutes it felt like the plane was fishtailing the whole way in. in the seconds leading up to and during the landing, one of the flight attendants starting singing this tune over the loud speaker (to the tune of gilligan's island):

Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale,
a tale of a fateful trip.
That started out of sea-at-tle,
aboard this tiny airship.
The weather started getting rough,
the tiny ship was tossed.
If not for the courage of the fearless crew,
your cookies would be tossed, your cookies would be tossed.

And then he sang to some made-up melody:
I love you and you love me
You'll thank me for my hospitality
If you marry me, you can fly for free!

And then, when I was landing in Albany, i realized that i hadn't put any conscious thought into what it was going to be like to see my mother for the first time in almost 4 years. i was on the plane as we taxied to the gate and i just realized that i had no idea what to expect and knew that i was ready to start breaking down some big walls that have been up for a long, long time.

i remember walking toward the baggage claim where i was going to meet her feeling closed and dreading the next two days - all i could feel was how much i didn't want to be here. and then i stopped. and took a moment. and reflected back on some reading i've been doing lately in the book "The Art of Possibility". in that moment i realized i wasn't giving my mother any room to be anything other than what i had created her to be in my head over the years and decided to push that aside.

the first several moments were fine. as expected - talking about travel, the weather, food. but within what seemed like moments on the drive home, we started talking about her and my father's divorce, the specifics about the night they told my sister and i, the events leading up to that, what she was feeling about the decision before and after, how she feels about my father now .... i learned some things i never knew about the situation. i learned that she thought that i blamed her and that's why i've been so distant all these years (it makes me cry just to write that).

i asked about my reaction the night they told us. i don't remember much aside from sitting on the couch and other details like where they sat, where my sister sat and her reaction. i just remember going out and walking into the fields behind my house afterwards and sitting outside under the sky, tearless. my mother said that, in the moment, i was furious. i wouldn't let them speak. i didn't want to hear it. i recoiled into the corner of the couch telling them to shut up. and then i got up and left.

i don't remember crying about it or feeling anything about it for a couple years. one day in college it struck me that i hadn't ever felt it and i cried for a few minutes and that was it. i asked my mom what i was like after i walked out that night and she said i never said anything about it or showed any emotion ... nothing. i internalized it all and dealt with it that way.

then she asked me about ami. she didn't know what's been going on this past month. last she heard, i was madly in love and high as a kite. it was hard to visit all that and yet, not at all. i'm usually so guarded with my mom. last night i just let it all out - gave her the whole story, talked about everything i've been going through and what i've been learning, what i feel good about, what hurts like hell, what i want. and yet, i still see where i could offer more of myself in relating all that and plan to go there over these next few days.

i told her i feel like we have a lot to talk about and i don't readily know what any of that is. but i want to find out.

when we finally got home (to the house where my grandparents used to live and where i spent enough time as a child that it feels like a home i know) it was very surreal. i haven't been here in 5-6-7 years and last time i was here my grandfather was still alive. this place reminds me more of him than my grandmother, but i have so many memories of the both of them and our family in this house.

what struck me right away was that it smells exactly the same. smell is such a powerful sense. it evokes so many memories in such a unique way. the second thing i noticed is how small the place feels. almost like a doll house.

i'm staying in my grandparent's bedroom. it's weird. i pretty much never went into their room when they were alive except to wake them up from a nap or something. it's such an indescribable feeling for that to be my room for this visit and to just be *in* that space for extended periods of time.

today ... well, today is another long post to write about and i'll probably write about it later. it's late ... i just celebrated the "once in a thousand years" occurance of it being 01:02:03 o'clock on 04/05/06. i love stupid shit like that.

it's a bummer to miss my leadership training tonight and i welcome the mini-break from life back in SF.

1 comment:

e said...

it's great that you can talk to your mom like that. or at least start again to talk to your mom like that.

at 01:02:03 4/5/06 i may have been getting a lap dance.