Writings (aka “The Blog”)

Last July, I sent my (very impressive) nephew a random text, “Could it be possible for me to come visit by myself sometime? I have a ton of PTO and have never been to D.C.”

A few months later, I drove the 9ish hours to Old Alexandria and spent a few days with Nick and his girlfriend, Jen, and generally had one of my top 10 favorite trips ever.

We toured the White Huse, visited Mt. Vernon, walked all the monuments. I wandered multiple Smithsonian museums, met Nick for drinks at a swanky underground bar full of people with more Ivy League degrees than I could count. I met a few 4-star generals!

(I told you he was impressive.)

And yet. As fascinating as all the sights were, I also sat on their lovely green velvet couch and lost badly at Sequence and said hi to a kitty named Bunny and drank white wine with Jen and generally counted the days until I could come back.

Luckily, a Spring Break trip with the fam worked out just right and we got to bore the kids with 20K steps per day and some history. But the cherry blossoms were in bloom and our Air BNB was super cute and we found the BEST pizza place (Andy’s) that haunts our dreams. I also made sure to squeeze in some green couch time with Jen!

Right before we left town, we had breakfast with Nick and while I was the only one present not related by blood, it felt so good to connect as family, and in many ways, start a new chapter of closeness after several years of small kids, moves, and not much time together.

I have a hard time separating my feelings about a movie, a city, or a restaurant from the memory of how much I enjoyed the people I was with at the time. I really love D.C. and hope I have lots of visits in store, but am actually looking forward to more connection, wherever they are.

Okay, I have to admit, I had an ego block about posting here. It has to be profound! You have to think about it for days and have a POINT! You have to be a Serious Writer.

But then I remembered that I started this site to be a substitute for social media. When I enjoyed social media the most, it was when I posted silly thoughts or sights throughout my day, and people I care about got to share in that and enjoy them too (or possibly just think I’m weird and go on about their day).

So, I guess that’s to say, get ready for some random, half-baked thoughts. One frustration I have with myself is tons of “great” ideas and much less follow through. Here’s to mediocre ideas and more follow through!!!

First, my 45th birthday on April 2. I don’t mind getting older. I recognize that I’m still young enough that it isn’t all that difficult. I am mobile and don’t even wear reading glasses. I get that this is the easy part. But still, I kinda like it. I love feeling like I have slightly (!) more of a clue about how things work. I like knowing the line of where I care about my appearance and where I honestly don’t.

One thing I like doing for my birthdays is shamelessly asking my people to turn out, if they can. I love to have a birthday “open house” and have a no-pressure place and time for people I love to stop by and say hello.

EPIPHANY: Maybe I should do this every month!!!

Anyway, here are some photos of my birthday night selfies at Guggman Haus. Stay tuned for Spring Break photos soon!

3/12/2013, the date that Audrey died, or so I’m told. The blur of events of her essentially having a cold, to gone from this world, all in about 12 hours, I didn’t know which day what happened. All I know is ever since then, I’ve distrusted 12s and 13s. 

My mother told me once that my great-great grandmother, who I knew as a little girl because she loved to be almost 100, wouldn’t sit at a table of 12 because she didn’t want to be the unlucky 13th. So perhaps I come by it honestly.

Now it has been 12 years, and I don’t have any clever lessons to share. No metaphors. No revelations. In some ways, I feel her loss has diminished me in ways I’ll never really grasp. My energy, my ambition, my optimism, my focus… would it all be some level higher if she were here? Over the years, I have cycled through heartbroken to angry to resolute, over and over and over. This deathaversary, I just feel tired.

Not in a major way (Mom and Dad, if you’re reading this, I’m fine, promise), I’m just kind of exhausted from trying not to feel like an alien and have meaningful connections. I’m tired from trying to be a good mom but feeling like I’m not quite hitting it because I’m damaged in some way. I look around the world and all the big, snowballing, pointless problems and cruelty around us and feel like I’m a thousand years old.

But if there’s anything the last twelve years have showed me, it’s how to get the eff on with it the best I can and carry on with whatever I’ve got that day when I wake up. I will keep doing that. And I’ll be glad when the 13th anniversary is over next year.

Today I’m thinking about mindfulness, which for those who haven’t indulged in the amount of navel gazing I have, means being conscious of the current moment instead of obsessing about (gestures in the air) all the other stuff.

I remembered a revelation I had about this when I was learning how to drive about (cough, cough) 30 years ago. Growing up in rural Indiana, driving on country roads and through three stoplight towns, one of the scarier things to learn was merging onto the interstate.

Our particular exit felt like it was a half mile long. You turned on, and as a new driver, you had what seemed like 30 seconds to obsess about how you’d merge in. How many semis are there? Is traffic heavy? I spent a lot of time worrying about this.

Eventually, I realized there was no use thinking about it at all until that last few hundred feet. There’s nothing you can do further up the ramp, and it often changed from your predictions anyway.

This is how I think of the current moment. What moment is that, you ask? I feel on the verge of several merging realities. I might lose my job if Medicaid funding is cut significantly. My kids’ education might diminish significantly if the Department of Education goes away. My parents’ and in-laws’ situations might change significantly if Medicare or Social Security changes. All of our health futures seem uncertain with the possibility of bird flu, measles, and polio (!!!) epidemics. Not to even consider climate change. 

WHEW!

Anyway, this is all the future. Right now, I’m on the ramp. There’s nothing to merge into, match, or adjust to. I’m not holding still, I’m moving forward, but I’m in this moment.