How I Became A Grown Up

Flying across the Atlantic the other night I found the movie Wish I Was Here, written by Adam & Zachary Braff. Zach Braff also plays the lead. About 35 minutes into the film I paused it, and the following flowed out. 

Do you want to know when you really become a grown up? It's when you have to take care of your parent/guardian/whathaveyou. 

The day you realize you're the caregiver. That the balance has shifted on your scales. 

For a litany of reasons that I'm not delving into, I was the official decision maker as my mom lay dying in a hospital. 

My dad was on the other side of town, in a different hospital, & working his way back to mom. 

My brother, let's call him Daniel, was the one who lived closer. He had a wife & a gaggle of kids. I lived 6 hours away, in NYC, and I wasn't even 30. But it was my job, my responsibility, to talk to the doctors & relay info to my dad. 

Legally & practically, I made the decisions that ended her life. 

That sentence is bullshit. Not because it is untrue, it's not. I was the one. 

It's bullshit because that's a messed up thing for anyone. In the history of ever. Of course it happens every other minute all day long, but that's not any less screwy. 

So there was a moment in my life where I got to tell the doctors we were done with any heroics. I got to witness a parade of people giving my mom the weight of their sadness. I slept on a cot in her room, one of my girlfriends by my side, so I'd be there if something happened. 

I think my moment of clarity came when Daniel's best friend, by no small coincidence my ex-boyfriend, brought his rather pregnant wife to meet my dying mother. I'd just been explaining all the legal shite to Danny & I walk out to see everything I wanted to share with my mother walking down the hall. 

My life, unlived, passed through me like a ghost. 

And then I got to wait for my dad to arrive, because mom wasn't budging without talking to him. That's 100% true, btw. The goodbyes & pleas to mom to "let go" went on for days; my dad instead talked over the phone, telling her she better wait for him to get there. He'd spent a lifetime waiting for her to get ready, and by God, this time she would wait for him. 

Naturally, she did. Mom was wild eyed & desperate for dad. She couldn't talk by then. He arrived & so very soon after she left us. 

I turned 30 a few days later. But honestly, I had aged a decade in just a few weeks. 

Afterwards, I ran away. I ran from that knowledge for years after. I ran from being grown. From as many responsibilities as I could. 

To tell the truth, I kept running until I found someone who made me want to be a grown up again. 

But that's a different tale, for a different night of wine, altitude & brilliant Indie film.

The Almost Famous Tour with Bunker Punks

Every time I hear about someone going "On Tour", my mind immediately goes to being Miss Penny Lane, on the road with Stillwater in Almost Famous. 

So naturally, when Jenny (from the Beards) announced the Bunker Punks were going on tour, I'm thinking epic road trip, party all day, sleep all night, vacation from Toddlerville!  

But, no, instead you get to tour my head. It's ok, it's still a trip.  

What is your most prized possession? 

Tackling the hardest question right off the bat! I will openly admit, I have a veritable FECKTON of SHITE. Seriously. I have had crap in storage for over a decade. Lots of reasons: Mom died, Dad sold the house in West Virginia and downsized to an apartment in Texas, blah blah blah. 

Also I'm the breed of military brat who is a borderline hoarder. The stuff has always made the home, because we never had a home of our own. 

But the truth is, although I have much of the family history in letters, photos & antiques, it's all just stuff in the end. 

If there was a fire & it all burned, but my babies & my husband were safe and sound, I'd still be blessed. 

If that's too fecking cheesy, then I'll say these bracelets. Because I never ever ever take them off. So in the event of the fire, I'd still have these. Bonus: one came from my high school BFF & another from SisterCat. So sentimental & stuff. 

(See what I did there?)

How do you unwind after a long day?

Interesting... It changes, I think. Usually there's some wine. Maybe I've gone to yoga. Maybe Hubs and I get some cuddle & TV time. Much of the time he falls asleep first, and then I get a little time to do whatever I feel like. Watch whatever I want. Read whatever I want. Stay up chatting with friends who are literally scattered across the globe. 

So, short answer: Me time. Which usually results in staying up way past my bedtime. File under #momproblems. 

What is one song that has followed you throughout your whole life?

I write about it a lot, because music is so important in my life, and so tied to memories. Although I could come up with at least a Top 10 list, easily, I'm going to play by the rules and pick "Sing". You know, that song from Sesame Street. 

The lyrics are so hardwired into my brain that I easily plucked them out as a lullabye when my son was born, although I probably hadn't heard the song for decades. I've hopefully wired up my Rebels the same way. 

And it's beautiful, sound advice, by the way. 

If you could give one piece of advice to new bloggers in your field, what would it be?

Well, this flows nicely from my song choice! Here it is: Know that it's ok if you have different facets in your writing. You're a human being and we are fecking complicated. So there's no reason to be frustrated if you are serious one day & all you've got is silly the next. Just put it out there. Stay true to YOUR voice & your audience will respond. 

Just sing your song. 

Now that you're famous, we need a quote from you.

I may not have gone where I intended to go
but I think I have ended up where I need to be.
~Douglas Adams~

Because I rock an alter ego, I'm going to give you two. 

One from my beloved Douglas Adams, and the other is all Serendipity, baby. 

When ANYTHING gets bent out of shape it's hard to play with it.
~Serendipity Indigo~

Pretty please, will you take one quick second and click vvv THIS vvv button? 
You're looking fantastic today, did I mention that? 

Sometimes the Best we can do is Muddle Through

**Originally published 12/24/14 as "Have Yourself A Muddled Little Christmas" - a guest post on How My Brain Works**

It never fails to hit me in the feels.  

Judy Garland sings "Someday soon, we all will be together, if the fates allow (I try to hold on as my throat tightens). Until then, we'll have to muddle through somehow (My eyes well with tears), so have yourself a merry little Christmas now (And I’m crying).” 

Tears of remembrance. Tears of love. And a reminder of the time I tried so hard to make Merry I found catharsis in a movie theater on Christmas Day. 

I think I’ve led with the punchline, so let me back up a bit. 

For me, memories of childhood are wrapped up boxes of Time. Where we lived, what school, what grade, these are the nested boxes of my childhood. The ones that hold holiday memories are either labeled “Granny-Christmas" or not. For 29 years, long after I was a “child” by any stretch of the Santa-clause, my Christmases were categorized by "Do we have the grandparents for Thanksgiving this year or Christmas?”

  

I’d love to say that changed at 30 because I had my own family, or something exotic like I moved out of the country. The reality is, Mom died in June 2004, only a few weeks before my 30th birthday. My Grandfather had passed a few years before & my Grandmother was no longer able to travel. Honestly, Granny-Christmas wasn’t only out of the question; the whole of the holidays seemed fairly screwed. 

Then, the other shoe dropped. Almost exactly 6 months after my mom, and just 2 weeks before Christmas, my mother’s sister passed away. I admit, it’s all still a little fuzzy in my mind. I asked my Dad recently, he also has no real memory of what we did that year. There was a trip to NH for my aunt's funeral, but the memory box for that holiday is lost. 

My one clear recollection is being in the car when I got the news about my aunt. I was on the way to Target to Christmas shop for my brother’s kids; when I got home that night I told my boyfriend those kids were getting the best Christmas ever. I’d shopped my grief. All I wanted was to find a way to bring a little joy. 

The next year, 2005, I was determined we’d try to make new traditions. So I bought a really nice pre-lit tree and sent it to my dad. When I came down to WV from NYC we had a little tree trimming with a few of my college friends. 

And then I convinced Dad to go see The Family Stone with me on Christmas. If you watch the trailer, it looks like a crazy-family comedy. It stars Diane Keaton, who was always one of Mom’s favorites (Dad’s too, I reckon). The entire cast is filled with actors we both liked, so what could go wrong? Well, for those who haven't seen the movie, I'll give you some highlights…

• So, after you get the set-up where the uptight girlfriend meets free spirit family, we learn that Diane Keaton’s character - the mother of the Stone Family - has cancer. 
• And she’s dying. 
• There’s a scene where the grown daughter, who is pregnant, is crying watching Meet Me in St. Louis. It is just at the part where Judy sings Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas. The father walks in and talks to her, comforts her. A small, sweet daddy/daughter moment. 
• At the end of the film finds the family a year later, and clearly Diane Keaton's character has died. But life has moved on. Babies have arrived, love has been found, things are okay. Not the same. But that’s alright. 

I mean - Seriously??!!! 

There I was, bawling in a theater next to my Dad. I cried for what we’d lost, what we never had, and I cried in fear of what was to come. I cried because I’d ruined Christmas. Of course Dad summed it up with something like “Good movie, shite timing."

Now here’s the thing that probably makes no sense: This is one of my favorite Christmas memories. Seriously, it's in the Top 5. Not because it’s about one of my now favorite Christmas movies. But because Dad and I muddled through those first few Christmases without mom together. Somehow. One screwed up attempt at a time. A few years later he moved to Texas, and we spent his first Texas Christmas on the beach. (That’s another at the top of my list, but that’s because it was splendid.) 

You know, it’s been several years now since we've been able to spend Christmas together. It’s Dad who doesn’t like to travel now. It’s hard to to make the trip from NYC to Texas with my little ones any time; I can’t imagine trying it for a few more years at the holidays. As the song goes, some day, if the Fates allow. 

Until then, I’ll cherish all the holidays past, whether they glisten with glitter or tears. 

 

Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Let your heart be light
Next year all our troubles will be out of sight

Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Make the yule tide gay
Next year all our troubles will be miles away

Here we are as in olden days
Happy golden days of yore
Faithful friends who were near to us
Will be dear to us once more

Someday soon, we all will be together
If the fates allow
Until then, we'll have to muddle through somehow
So have yourself a merry little Christmas now