scrafitto

the wine was good...

2006-08-30T20:45:00.000-07:00

...the conversation, not so much. "my story" was interrupted for talk of an incompetent cleaning lady.
here's the thing about "my story". a minor detail. first of all, it is mine. second of all, it is not just a story, it is my life, my unique human experience that is irreversible and continual. it wasn't something that "happened" on august 27, 29, october 3, or during hurricane ivan. it is day-in, day-out, irretrievable loss that no amount of small talk, ikea furniture, or friendship can replace.
it is feeling orphaned and angry and disconnected. it is knowledge of having true wealth in life (a loving family) and watching it disintegrate and scatter. it's a tapestry lovingly woven and treasured over generations falling in bits between my fingers, which no amount of caution of care can prevent.
yesterday was a very sad day for me that took me by surprise. i felt as though a loved one had died, i couldn't go to the funeral, and no one really wanted to talk about it. i wish i could recap with my mom and try to make sense of it all, but she's dead, and the sibs weren't talking. dad tried. we love eachother, and i don't want to burden him with my grief; he's got his own.
so this is life, never knowing what is around the bend, or being able to hold on to precious things, no matter how much you appreciate them.
i did find some joy in hanging clothes on the line, and my own family and friends keep me loving and smiling, thank God. just every now and then i grapple with this indignation.

i'm not all here...

2006-08-16T15:44:00.000-07:00

i'm on the porch
and in the garden
standing in the kitchen
and sitting on the patio
walking up the beach
in the twilight
and down the tracks
in the rain
sifting through the rubble
staring in disbelief
basking in the sunshine
and shivering with the breeze
looking at your stupid
unfamiliar coffin
and hugging your soft
and bony shoulders
kissing your peachy cheek goodnight
and stuck on repeat

i'm definitely not all here.

mimi & John

2006-07-29T18:31:00.000-07:00

John Denver. That's right. It is love. It all started a couple of weeks ago. She was weeping in the dark listening to Country Roads.
"I don't like here! It's not beautiful! I don't like my new things. I want my old things. New Orleans is more beautiful."

She was probably recalling one of our many family dance parties in our old house in New Orleans. She is finally starting to process a little. I have given up telling her all of the good reasons for us to be here. I tell her, "I know, it's too much change, too much for a little kid to have to deal with. Sometimes I don't like it either."

But at least she has John. He understands. He comforts her with visions of mountains, rivers, peace, and love. I think she knows at least 70% of the lyrics on the entire album. She sings along with great emotion and fervor. Even though she doen't know of her existence, as far as she is concerned, she is Annie. These songs are for her.

John makes me cry too. My Mom wasn't his biggest fan, but I can still remember her wailing along to Sunshine on My Shoulder with gusto. It is nostalgic in its essence. "If I had a day that I could give you..."

"Sometimes, Mom," Mimi says, "I pretend he is singing all of these words to me, like he is right here in my room with me. He is in my heart."

I walked in on her sitting at her table fashioning a rainbow just for him out of play-doh. He was sitting next to her, watching. (She had placed his CD booklet on a chair next to hers.) She has the two disc greatest hits album, the jacket is full of pics, and Mimi can tell you her favorites in order from most to least.

I try not to let the intensity of this first crush disturb me much. But it seems to be pretty serious.

Tasty nugget/morsel of life

2006-05-22T18:13:00.000-07:00

scene: unpacking

Y: why is life so sad?
J: Life?
Y: how come my mom's gone but i get to keep the sugar bowl?
J: sugar bowls don't go to heaven.

Ranty Ranty Rant Rant

2006-04-21T19:33:00.000-07:00

the main reason i have convinced myself to write is to get the damn hamster off the wheel in my head before i go batty. the other one is because i want to give janine a laugh. raise your cider. "here's to two kids, incomplete thoughts, and an overdependence on friends for adult conversation."
the main reason i haven't written, well, there's more than one:
who's reading it
am i just trying to be cool?
what might come out
i annoy myself and i am annoyed also by others

but i digress. haha. this entry will make no sense.
all of my grief is hiding at the top of my spine, base of my head, the underneaths of my shoulder blades and occassionally in my various arm joints. i would get a massage but i hear they can make you cry and i don't want to cry while some stranger rubs on me.
i miss my peops and all that was or all that i was deluded by. i miss working and the stupid comraderie that hovered around the meat and cheese slicers, having a place to go to or a reason to put on real clothes and maybe even lipstick. i miss having my fingers on the pulse of a slice of culture that was real and not stupid-cyber.
in other news, i dearly love and am deeply devoted to my husband and kids. one is now crying. i must go.

stale & fresh

2006-03-17T16:09:00.000-08:00

sorry, my blog is so stale that it took me about 5 attempts just to sign in. i had forgotten my password.
on a fresher note, i am freshly thirty today! We are taking a little reprieve from everyday life, vacationing in beautiful sunny south florida, compliments of my incredibly generous and kind in-laws.
i can't tell you how exhilirating it was to step out of the airport and breathe saltwater air. i didn't know i had missed it; such a subtle yet bold reminder of the sense of place i miss in life. i was telling them i haven't really had an excuse to go to florida (and definitely not to take a vacation) in a couple of years which is strangely unheard of, as i have had all of my roots there or resided there all of my life. i want to visit pcola sometime when i am sure it will be green again.

i have to say that i have been touched by the kind sentiments that have been sent my way on the occasion of my birthday. i don't know if people know how hard it is for the day to pass without a call from my mom, or if i am just that remarkable to my loved ones, but it has been really comforting and (i hate this word) touching to be thought of and honored by all of the wonderful people in my life. if you know me, you know i am not a real socialite, but i am really wealthy in the quantity and quality of loving relationships in my life.
am i having a hallmark moment?
love from green grass and sunny breezy watery days in florida,
yvonne

rent

2006-01-23T17:31:00.000-08:00

here in the land of taco stands and trucks, i feel poor, even though i have far more than what i need or want. (except a little more square footage) why you ask? because i am a renter, and i am learning that unless you are a particularly foolish or flush renter, you take what society dishes out, in the form of 4'x4' "bedrooms", kitchens with no cabinets, peel and stick tile, or whatever was on sale at home depot.
its an assault on my snotty little senses. just because you want to do something on the cheap doesn't mean it has to look cheap or function cheaply. but i guess people don't want to devote the time or energy to make things liveable for renters. it's one thing if it is an extended stay hotel or something, when you know it doesn't have to last forever. but what if it is where you and your family want to be for a couple years while you save to buy a house? do you want your kids toys and some furniture in her "bedroom" but her bed in the closet? two convenient doors that open directly from outside into the master or kids bedroom? i've been looking since october and still no luck. i know many people have much more to complain about but 4 people to a one bedroom apartment is tired. and i am also tired of looking.
it was really my favorite today when my current landlord told us that they leased out the 2 bedroom we have been waiting on since september to someone else. i am past the point of crying, even though i think it would make me feel much better. over the course of the past few months i am really starting to develop a persecution 'plex.

julia to the world=joy to the world

2006-01-23T17:17:00.000-08:00

sick julia...
the little marshmallows
on the tops of her fat baby paws
are melting away.
and her didie is oh too easy
to wrap around her little tum.
never you fear
she's smiling again.
soon she will pack on the pounds.

2006-01-22T20:41:00.000-08:00

ahhh, 'neener. now here is a true friend. please note that eleanor could also be called janine jr. marie perfectly coined her "soulfull eyes".

here is a big reason i will miss new orleans. so much there has changed but some things have stayed the same. those are the things i will officially miss out on. mimi's awake now. must complete thought at a later date.

then & now

2006-01-11T19:02:00.000-08:00

me and my girl have been together about four years now. i love her so.
photo two compliments sarah jane semrad.
incidentally, i feel a haircut coming on.

sleep much?

2006-01-09T21:24:00.000-08:00

my sleep patterns are definitely changing since ju-ju wakes upat 8:30 on the nose everyday, as opposed to my and mimi's sleep-til-10-or-11 old routine. do all good things come to an end? actually it is not as bad as i'd expected and as long as the coffee's flowing, it's all good in the hood.

let me tell you, years without putting pen to paper is wreaking havoc on my punctuation. if i was writing, i'd be pretty vigilant. but i am so proud of typing well enough to complete a thought, i don't bother with the details.

mimi, my medium, really got me today. we were admiring a picture of my mom and i that was on the coffee table while i was brushing her hair. she tells me she misses grandmama. i do to, i say. "grandmama says 'i know' ", mimi tells me. "she says to give you a hug and a kiss." and she did. and then she says," i could hear her in my ears, she was talking in my heart and i could hear her in my ears." i really believe it. for one thing, i felt it too. "i know" is what my mom would say. if mimi was making it up she might say, "she misses you too".
it is so crazy that i can somehow equate my mom not being here to losing her love. i know she would never ever want me to feel that way, but that is how it feels, often. it is hard not to be checked on, sympathized with, understood. my mom was pro at these things. she knew me well and she loved me thoroughly. other people have to tolerate me, my mom loved me like only a mother could. that element seems to have vanished from my life. that little interaction with mimi tonight though, creaked open some weird little door in me. i let myself believe a little that my mom is somewhere understanding what i am going through and wanting to reach out to me. of course then i start to feel the pain. but i guess that is bound to happen no matter what, sooner or later.
getting a little distance and perspective on the events of the past few months only seems to highlight their totally surreal and dreamlike quality. i would really like to feel settled now. i've lost a lot, and i have gained a lot. i know pretty well that nothing is permanent. but it feels really important right now to have a little peace in the form of a more liveable space ( we are still four to one bed/room). who knows, in a bigger space maybe i'd create something. looking is discouraging and exhausting. i mean we're not even really poor and i don't understand how people pull off this rental thing. maybe if you are kidless or could have a roommate. but how do families swing this? i think i am whining now. i'm sick of hearing myself talk. love, y

inspiration vs. frustration

2006-01-03T21:31:00.000-08:00

usually my life is all about frustration of different shapes and sizes, but now it is having to battle inspiration. i wonder who's gonna win.
inspiration gained a little ground recently what with the new year and the article my aunt sent me about the blind couple that raised ten kids among other things: http://www.spiritdaily.com/mahoney.htm

however, inspiration is in for a tough battle when considering how skilled, agile, masterful and utterly creative i am at making excuses and talking myself out of the first twinkle of ambition or opportunity-snatching. i overthink things (thank you janine, for this simple yet massive insight into my workings). i am working on it but this is an exhausting mental battle. because i keep overthinking things. instead of just doing them. is there ever any rest.

also, i still don't really believe that my mom died. just a little update on that. i went to her house and was greatly disappointed to realize that i could not find her smell on her clothes, although i may have detected it on her pillow. my mom was someone who was very austere in her way of life (except for an excess of half-and-half and butter), but she really was thrilled by so many things. it made things a little more worthwhile just to be able to relay them to her. i look at pictures of her and they don't seem to look like her, and at the same time it is a rare moment when i can really picture in my mind exactly how she did look.

maybe i should call this grief and misery dot com. slightly embarrassing anecdotes included.

it is a bit tougher to blog knowing that more people than i had originally realized were reading it. i am totally flattered, yet i don't want to perform or censor. my intention is to use this as an outlet, and trust that the people who read it love me and aren't snickering.

i liquidated my house in new orleans, and it sucked. i feel rather history-less, i don't reckon i could claim homelessness. it is weird when your childhood home is gone and then you have to also give up the next best thing, your own home. i am sure i can make another one but it will probably never feel the same without the christening of so many family gatherings that can never happen again. ugh, this is bleak.

anyway right along with my three year old, inspiration is nagging at me. maybe things will be different. losing my mom, losing new orleans as a home has taught me yet again that life is short and precious and time should not be wasted with so much to gain. fear is a powerful thing though and it is so comfortable to play it safe. at this point i have less to lose though.

i know why mouse pads exist now

2005-12-22T21:28:00.000-08:00

and i have the callous to prove it. too much time at the computer? i think i try to satiate my need for adult conversation by reading blogs and checking email. it's pretty thankless work though, as my contacts are very limited. if i would sign up on live journal i'd be privy to all of the good stuff, but then i would have to try to think of more things to say, which is to say my words would have to sneak out under the radar or pass the stringent self-critique that keeps me from doing most productive things.
this may be my last partially sane entry for a while, as i am going back to new orleans for the first time since the day we evacuated for Katrina, and I am not sure how it will feel except like home, which it is no longer, so that is confusing. and i am like almost 30, so how is my three year old going to process it?
my dad drove to pensacola earlier today to pick up my brother for christmas. i called him this evening to make sure he made it okay. he seemed very touched, and said something to the effect of "it's nice to have someone looking out for me". i hear that. my mom's absence just screams sometimes. it sucks to go unnoticed after a lifetime of being fretted over. if it is bad for me i can't imagine how it is for him.
you have to remember in as many sad ways her loss is affecting our lives now, you can multiply the joy, comfort, love, understanding, support, pride, etc, that she brought. and of course she would never want those things to be diminished or forgotten just by her lack of physical presence. if i died tomorrow, would i want mimi to feel that was the end of her mother's love? the love i feel for her in a second just tumbles on into infinity. it is just hard at times to remember in someone's absence.
incidentally, if you get sick of hearing about my mom or all of this sad stuff, sorry, but (much to my dismay) life keeps marching on and this remains the only time and space for me to meditate on all that has happened. just me and my cozy computer.
also, i really appreciate those who are reading and commenting, here or otherwise. except the ones who leave comments like "wow, your blog is really insightful. wanna lose weight fast? visit our website..."

random pinings

2005-12-08T19:54:00.000-08:00

the arrival of the holidays is doing for me what i thought the birth of my baby would: making me homesick for everything. my mom, my home, my friends, my job, my family, my garden. everything that has passed through my life never to return to what i used to know. this all makes very little sense and may seem a bit like whining.
yes, i could be living in a shelter or worse. i wish i could explain the type of loss i am experiencing, and not do it in terms of comparison, which is my natural sick little inclination. let me try:

my life is now a foreign landscape
a movie where the scene and actors have changed
a quilt that has faded and dry rotted, with new suspiciously bright patches sewn on

i long for my past, not because it was ideal, but because it was familiar and mine. i hate it that there are entire people and places that i can never revisit, and all of the experiences that go with those things. i find myself wanting to track down people i knew years ago, to harvest the freshness of their memories, hear them ask "how's your mom?" and pretend for a minute that that is a question that is valid now. perhaps i am painting myself a little mentally ill right now, but, uh, it's all real.

true story

2005-11-16T21:00:00.000-08:00

Last night, out of nowhere, in her before bed chatter, Mimi says to me:
"When I go to heaven, I am going to bring some stationery in my soul, and when I get there I'm going to draw pictures for Jesus and Mary and God and Grandmama."

My kid is something else, and as strangely touching as it is to hear, I really wish she wouldn't talk about heaven so much. She is only three after all.

two good reasons for staying

2005-11-12T15:13:00.000-08:00

a million different directions

2005-11-12T13:49:00.000-08:00

i don't even know what i am about to write but i know i need to. i am so bound up with anxiety that i can't even cry, even when i really really want to.
my mind is a weird landscape of images coming and going that don't make much sense when strung together. the most recurring, and i think it has to do with the weather and change of seasons, is this overall feeling and imagery of my mom's old house on the bay in the fall/winter: what it felt like sitting in the kitchen looking out the window, then what it felt like to be standing in the space between the houses near a huge oak tree, then what it felt like to be standing about one third up the dock, looking down into the water and through it, at the perfectly ordered wave-like pattern of sand at the bottom. the light was golden in all of those places, and i don't say that to sound poetic, it really was gold. the water looked like it was sweet tea, and the sky was a clear sharp blue, and the kitchen was the same as it always was and would be (except it is in bits in escambia bay now), a cozy wonderful place that was the perfect distillation of home.
and i guess this is where i will get really predictable and say i would give a lot to be there experiencing it all again. how weird for my mom to be gone. i still don't believe it.
i wonder if i wasn't living in this shoebox filled with garbage bags of fragments from my old life, waiting to be unloaded, what would i come up with creatively? some poems, some paintings, a quilt or two? a mix cd even? i don't know if it is the space that i am living in, or the demands of two tiny girls, or the shock of all that has transpired, that i can blame for my lack of productivity. who cares.

how's this for depressing self-pity

2005-11-10T19:16:00.000-08:00

life sure sucks without the person who knows and understands you best.

didion on grief

2005-11-02T17:54:00.000-08:00

the name joan didion kept popping up on me over the past few weeks, turns out she is a feminist author who wrote about her own experience with the death of a loved one and her grieveing process. well the book , the year of magical thinking, is both depressing and comforting. mostly it is a pretty rambling account ( i don't mean that in a bad way) with her own ruminations on events, but i just ran across a little chunk of something that i fear is truth, it is what i have been suspecting through my own experience, and hearing her say it confirms my fears and suspicions on grieving. Basically, that it never ends. You may fool (and surprise) yourself by handling things well in the beginning, but the worst is still to come, it is not necessarily in the early days.
I have always loved my mom so much, maybe even had an unhealthy attachment, that i completely expected to be insane and bedridden when she died. i wish i could fall apart that way. instead i fall apart for about 3 to 7 minutes at a time. maybe every other day. it's not that i am not thinking about it constantly. there is just no release.
one thing Didion mentions that i was also surprised by was the griever's battle with self-pity. i thought this was my own neurosis but apparently it is a more universal phenomenon. every time i start to even think about it all in horrific terms of reality i censor myself with: it could have been worse. we were lucky. at least she didn't suffer much. all of these things are half true, and then there's the other side. like everybody else my age is making holiday plans with their mom. or hell yes she suffered. she had two brain surgeries and then she died. i hate even thinking that way but it is all there. i don't know if acknowledging it will make it any better or worse.
and still we were lucky. i have near thirty years of a mom who loved me immensely and showed it well.
i am starting to get really homesick. i have always gotten homesick for my mom especially. even at 25 and newly married j would find me crying "cause i just miss my mom". now here i am in a rather foreign land with a bunch of shiny new shit around me and all i really want is my mom and my old kitchen and a christmas tree somewhere that really feels like home. i can't make a desision about my house because so much has changed and there it is sitting there, an untouched time capsule of what my life was before everything changed. we packed for a three day weekend. i can't imagine what it is like for my dad, going back two months later without the wife he fled with, thinking at the time he was engaging in some stupid exercise in futility.

tired eyes

2005-10-27T14:59:00.000-07:00

think neil young. tired eyes. the soundtrack for this entry. the past few months (has it been that long) have been about me treading water, trudging through, plodding along. my self awareness stretched no further than my distended middle and i had no time to journal, think, check-in, anything, except a sudden burst of words in the middle of a restless night. well, that is still where i am at, but if i had time to write a poem or paint, it would be about eyes.
you know, eyes being the window to the soul. it is probably the most distinct realization i have had in the midst of all this, and it continually takes me by surprise. every time i look in the mirror, i am taken aback at the eyes looking at me, because, damn, they give it all away. and the people closest to me are telling all too, saying nothing with words.
before mom died my eyes were anxiety- stricken, i would think i was fine, feeling okay, and look up in the mirror as i washed my hands and think,"oh, honey!". now i catch a glimpse of myself and i look like, well, i have given up. vacant, tired, resigned. i don't necessarily feel that way, but i have to remember the huge hope that i had invested in her recovery, and the loss and despair that is somewhere festering inside. (God help me when it surfaces).
Grief sneaks up on me at night, bit by bit. The abstract notion of my mom is turning into razor-sharp images of her sweet little bony elbows, her smile (if you know it there's no need for elaboration), her ability to wolf a huge plate of spaghetti with butter on top.
anyway, we all speak volumes in looks these days, not meaningful looks, just total exposure of feeling through the eyes. i always thought that was such a cliche before, but someone was really onto something.
casey, mary, thanks for the music. its the best balm i have found so far.

after

2005-10-27T14:56:00.000-07:00

before

2005-10-27T14:53:00.000-07:00

weariness is setting in

2005-10-12T20:47:00.000-07:00

everywhere. yesterday i would have given anything to report to the hospital and chill at my mom's bedside. i can't believe she is nowhere on this planet anymore. my dad looks tired to the bone, and we are all losing our luster. we were doing good for days, creating a funeral worthy of her, and a celebration to follow, telling funny stories and reminiscing together, remembering her the way she would want to be remembered. trying to shove away the sadness cause it isn't what she'd want. but now it seems to be closing in on us, like the walls of that damn garbage chute in starwars. i am appalled at the injustice of life, marching on the way that it is without my mom. i want my mom and i want to go home. i can't have either. i read in some cheesy mothering magazine that a new baby is a sign that life goes on. well, i think i sure as hell could use some distraction right now. i am running low on the euphoria that helped it all make sense before, but i don't want to spend the rest of my life asking why. i have to remember how lucky we were to have such a wonderful person in our lives for so long, to know she was leaving and to get to say goodbye. i am just having a hard time registering how permanent this is. i keep thinking i'll see her or call her in a day or two. no one could ever be for me who my mom was. i feel almost orphaned, and guilty for feeling that way, because she devoted her life to loving the people around her and i know she doesn't want me sad.
julia needs to come along and shake things up. we are all going to downward spiral before too long.

white christmas, new orleans 2004

2005-10-09T20:07:00.000-07:00

heartache/heartburn?

2005-10-09T19:41:00.000-07:00

this is the brilliant title that i thought up at about 3:30 last night when i was too miserable to sleep but too tired to get up and actually write.

my sister and i have wondered just how weird do people think it is, how well we seem to be handling this? because, well, it sucks. but at such a desparate time there really seems to be no other option besides looking for the good. and there really has been some profound good, all of it, except the actual loss we have not yet faced the full reality of. convoluted much? what i am trying to say is, as a survival mechanism maybe, or maybe a profound mystery of life unfolding for me, i am shielded from the despair i always knew i would feel at this time, and i am graced with gratitude. i feel so fortunate to have had fair warning that my mom would die sooner rather than later, and that i had a window of time to fill with happy memories and an outpouring of love in any way i could muster: shrimp po-boys, creme-brulee', patience, pedicures. some people lose loved ones in the blink of an eye, maybe in the midst of a rift, and live with regrets. i have been living the last several months with one main goal: no regrets. love my mama to the best of my ability, more for my sake than hers probably; so that when the time of her parting came i wouldn't add to my existing grief with "if only's". it worked. job well done.
i am sure the loss will catch up with me, i suspect at the moment i hold my newborn baby in my arms for the first time and realize i don't need to put in a call to mom with the news. it sneaks up on me at little times already, when i suffer some small injustice or outrage and my feelings are smarting, i have the urge to call her, turn to her for reassurance and comfort. this is going to be bigger and tougher growing up than mothering. there is no substitute for her presence.

mimi is handling it better than i hoped for. she is pretty sure grandmama's angel wings are pink, like rose petals. the other day she woke up mumbling," 'mama,'mama...." i asked her, "what is it?" and she said,"no, not you, grandmama. i'm talking to grandmama." she said they talked for a long time but she wouldn't tell me what was said. that was the day of the funeral. she seemed very much at peace. i guess my mom took care of it for me. she knew that was one of my greatest worries.

One may think it is a bad omen

2005-10-07T07:07:00.000-07:00

that it is raining on the morning of my mom's funeral, but you should know that it is not. rain for me and mom meant pulling up a chair on any bit of porch or shelter we could find with something hot (usually coffee) and just being there to soak in the peacefulness of it all.

A little relief

2005-09-30T17:08:00.000-07:00

well, there is a little relief to be had. dave went and checked out our house and says that it looks surprisingly good. the fridge is nasty but he says the house itself stinks less than any of the others he has visited, probably because we left our a/c on. it sounds like we all fared pretty well over there within my family, so life is not as cruel as i once thought. of course, i am still left with the task of dealing with the house and its contents, but in the end i should be able to make some money. which is always helpful.
my mom is okay. what i saw the night after the surgery was a glimmer of old rhoda, and she has slipped back into a fog. her fear is gone, but she still gets pretty angry about being there. as her best friend pointed out to me, that is probably a good thing. i for one, would rather see her mad than afraid any day of the week. and when i tell her i love her, she tells me she loves me too, which means a lot to me.

other frets

2005-09-28T04:56:00.000-07:00

so at night when i can't sleep and i don't have my mama to worry about, i move on to other refreshing topics, like having an entire house full of all of my earthly belongings about 9 hours away, and not knowing its condition, and needing to liquidate and rent or sell it.
just a couple of months ago, two of my best friends came and helped me strip things down to a minimum, go through all that i had and keep only the things that i loved and used. well, i can tell you right now there is not room for those things here in my less than 700 sq ft one bedroom apartment. we still don't even know where we are going to put the baby yet (another favorite fret).
I asked SJ if she would do it for me, half-kidding, and yet knowing if anyone could do it it would be her. And she is willing, cause she is the giving-est person i know. but i don't know if that is fair to ask of anybody. and so much of it i still have deal with on a mental level, which i can't seem to muster up the time or energy for.
i have antiques there, generations-old silver, bookcases of books, a passel of babydolls, kitchen gear adding into the hundreds if not thousands. it can't all come back so where will it go? some of these things must be dealt with appropriately. music boxes and teddy bears. pictures and paintings. that's why i am sitting in front of this damn blue screen and not sleeping.
somehow, going back is not an option. to visit or live. visit, maybe in a few long months, to live, i could almost say never. i don't want to set foot in that house for a long time, because i know it will feel so much more like home than where i am now, but staying is not an option. first of all, there won't be work there for a long long time. second of all, i can't get past the ju-ju of all the things that happened there surrounding this storm, and could happen again. you can't raise a kid (or two) in that kind of tension, packing up every couple of months to evacuate, not knowing if you'll come back or what you'll come back to.
but i do miss the days of chatting on the phone over a sink full of dishes, peeking at mimi from time to time playing on the cozy carpet or chillin in front of sesame street with a cup of yogurt. my garden. my bed with the best sheets in the world, my ultimate pillow collection. the science of comfort you work out over years of being in a place. our home was vast and comfortable. the whole time we were there i was grateful for our good fortune.
but i have to say i day-dreamed about returning to the anonymnity of a big city. of not being responsible for a yard or plumbing. about living somewhere old and charming and quirky. i can't complain. it is just going to take some getting used to.

my mom, the bad-ass

2005-09-28T04:40:00.000-07:00

yesterday my mama pulled trough her second brain surgery in a week and came out smiling a smile of triumph. what a relief for those of us around her. we told her "you did it mama!" and she smiled so huge and nodded all smug-like. she is not talking much but the spark of comprehension is back in her eyes. i don't really care what rhoda we got back as long as she is rhoda-with-the-ablility-to experience-love-and-happiness. as opposed to the sheer fear she seemed to be living in for those few long days. i love her. i have such a good mama. i had a long and wonderful talk with her best friend last night, and it helped me immensely. i got a different perspective on my mom, and it made me proud of our relationship. basically she told me how much my mom loved us, how proud she has always been of us, and what pride she took in our love and care for her. good. i am glad we all know how much we love eachother. how many people leave life (or get left behind) before getting to make that as clear as possible? we are really fortunate.

incidentally, this is a pic of my mom in may, after a full 9 weeks of chemo & radiation. you can't keep a good woman down.

tonight, contractions

2005-09-26T21:10:00.000-07:00

not getting my hopes up, however. first of all, mom told julia to wait a week. second of all, would God, the universe, fate, really put me into labor 12 hours before my mom is scheduled for her second brain surgery in less than a week? or did i just officially tempt fate?
well whatever. its win-win. could there be a convenient time at this point in my life? at least i'd get to hold my little baby in my arms as opposed to carrying her around like an anvil around my waist. yea, i am as ready as i'll ever be. there has been a lot of this false alarm stuff though. just have to wait and see.
my mom keeps saying all manner of nonsensical gut-wrenching things. she just grimaces and asks, "can we go home now?" "how much longer can this go on?" "can you get me out of here?" and last but not least, "help me--please help me"
she is trapped in some kind of crazy maze in her own brain and the only thing that seems to be making it to the surface is raw emotion in the form of fear. it's too tragic to process. i try to handle her the way i handle mimi, meeting her on her wavelength, trying to make her feel heard, reassured, understood. if i didn't have a child i wouldn't know what to do, but since i do, it is an automatic response. since when are mothers and daughters interchangeable? now, apparently.
Mimi just wants me to hold her, standing up. except she is forty pounds and i can't anymore. what hell. can i be what i need to be for my kid right now? and yet i am still so lucky in the grand scheme of things. i had a mom. i am almost thirty and still have a mom. i have a cache of memories of tea at dawn on the bay with her. even if she can't express it anymore she loved/loves me like crazy. it just makes me want to be more to mimi. to stock her world with all kinds of reminders of how loved she is by me, how precious she is to me, in case one day I can't tell her.
rhoda may rise again. maybe some iv fluids and a couple days later she will be sitting up in the bed smiling at me, patting julia, and saying to me, "oh honey, i am so sorry i didn't know who you were..." but even if she never makes her comeback i know that if she could say and do all of those things, she would.

this is what i want to last forever

2005-09-26T20:52:00.000-07:00

2005-09-26T03:20:00.000-07:00

lately, to give myself a chuckle, i have taken to dreaming up the perfect apt new name for my blog, or my life, as it were:

water, water, everywhere

are you my mother?

truth is stranger than fiction

i couldn't make this up if i tried

am i really going to have a baby?

my good fortune. really.

so those sum up some of the themes in my life right now, i don't know if i have the mental energy to expound and some of them don't need much explaining. there are so many things going on in my life, i feel sure they can't all be real, but since they are not going away, i guess they might be.
thank god for all of the good people in the world, many of whom i am lucky enough to call my friends and lean on during utterly insane times like this. i wonder how this will all play out in the end.
my mom doesn't know who i am but if i kiss her she sometimes relaxes into her old smile and thanks me, and has once or twice breathed "oh good!" upon my arrival. mimi brought her a peach popsicle that she just knew would make her all better but mom just looked at her with a mixture of confusion and disgust and said "no more, that's enough". i told mimi maybe it would work tommorrow and put the popsicle in the freezer. mimi just stood there looking at her with red ringed eyes, waiting for the kind of reception her grandmama would give. thank god marie got her out of there. i thought my heart was going to crack open and spill on the floor right there in front of everyone. it is so much easier for me to hurt for people other than my self, and this whole mother-daughter-me circle, the tremendous impending loss, that is what i will really suffer from.
on the day before they sent her home (where is home?), she was so excited. i told her i was ready for julia to be born and she told me, no, wait a week. i think she wanted to get her strength back to grandmother properly. now i wonder if they will ever really meet, if my mom will experience the joy she anticipated these long and tough months, if she'll know what julia means or who she is.

2005-06-28T16:14:00.000-07:00

missing our friends

2005-06-28T16:13:00.000-07:00

loving our new space

ahh, frens

2005-06-28T15:54:00.000-07:00

what loving and devoted friends i have! they flew all of the way from Dallas this weekend to rescue me from my own crap! a trash pile the height of me, fifteen huge garbage bags to the goodwill, three bags of "shred" from the file cabinet, a can and a half of yellow paint, artistically arranged picture after picture and room after room later, i can breathe, think, clean, be inspired and feel prepared for my Julia.
we had an awesome time, it taught me a lot about one person's (in this case two peoples') ability to really have a positive effect on another.

2005-06-18T19:36:00.000-07:00

my bird

... many moons ago

2005-06-18T19:32:00.000-07:00

that is my little bird from --hard to imagine-- almost 4 years ago. essentially she is the same but of course lots has changed, including loving her more and more every day, which is hard to imagine. so number two will be making an arrival in October and i am overjoyed. and also imaptient and a little overwhelmed.
i know this blog has gotten all stale, in my life i filter everything as too big or small to write about, but since i check a few other blogs habitually, i decided to have mercy on whatever poor disappointed soul has not yet given up checking on me for something fresh.
if i were to try to update for real i would bore even myself wth the daily trials of our existence here. workers comp, illness, exhaustion, lack of funds, you've heard it all before. one day julia will arrive and stir things up, or even sooner, maybe a couple of hip feng-shui fairy princesses will swoop down from the sky and TCB. (insert lightning rod here).
now that *i think* i know how to add pics hopefully things will be a bit more interesting.
casey, how was the wedding?

at least it is raining...

2005-04-30T09:18:00.000-07:00

is there anything more comforting in the world than waking up to the sound of a whole lot of rain falling outside your window? i'm not jesting here. i told mimi tommorrow our plants will be a lot bigger. enough about the weather- in other news: j had his back surgery about a week and a half ago. he is still bedridden, and his left foot still doesn't work, and he is still using the walker, but what really makes me happy is that he is in good spirits. there is not a doubt in my mind that he will get back to 100%. my mom got her treatment assessed and the tumor is smaller but still big. this is not bad news but still a bit discouraging because she has seemed so happy and healthy i think we all expected a miracle here. but that doesn't mean we won't still get one. she has to do another 9 week session of chemo and then reassess again, maybe they will operate. j's grandma also has ovarian cancer which apparently grows by the day. they are choosing not to treat it cause her body is too fragile and if they started operating she wouldn't have much left. j wants to be with her but is in no shape to travel. as soon as he is better we'll put him on a plane. she is an awesome and hilarious woman. he interviewed her on his video camera a couple years ago. let me tell you this cancer thing seems really sinister at times. all of the billboards and commercials can't prepare you for it, but in retrospect you realize they were onto something. time is so precious in treating it. i'll never let any lump or pain go unchecked after this. before i would have, out of fear. can you imagine living and feeling like something in your body is working against your body with the goal of total destruction? as soon as i found out my mom's diagnosis i read an amazing book that taught us all how to deal with it and not feel so powerless and hopeless. it is called Love, Medicine & Miracles by Bernie Siegel. it is worth reading just as a tool for life. i guess the jist of it is that your thoughts and beliefs can either limit you or empower you, to the point of healing or death, and he is brilliant and convincing. sorry to get all "reading rainbow" here. off to fry my chittlins some eggs. more later.

window of weather

2005-04-16T13:53:00.000-07:00

here in new orleans we are experiencing that incredible (yet all too short lived) window of perfect weather. it's the short time you can garden without suffering, or have dinner al fresco without being dive-bombed by flying cockroaches or dined-on by mosquitos. we are putting in a lot of time outside and in the sandbox.
today we got to appreciate Audubon Park in all of its glory with enough sun for sunscreen but a really lovely breeze which kept things not just bearable but also enjoyable. we met our friends down there and had a po-boy picnic, fed the ducks and turtles, and the girls played soccer and ballet topless in the sun. ah, to be three again.
there are some days and seasons that make new orleans feel like a good place to be. for one thing, this little sprout fest we are calling a garden right now will be mind-blowing and bountiful in a matter of weeks. by then we will be admiring from the air-conditioned indoors.

This one's for Mary

2005-04-15T07:45:00.000-07:00

my house is not pink, it's brick ranch style with butter yellow and teal trim. i've done what i could with it, given a limited budget. I painted over the olive green in the kitchen with diner blue, and yanked down the puff valances. i committed what some people might call a mortal sin and painted over the "oak" cabinets shiny white and changed from brass to chrome knobs. I painted mimi's room pepto pink and put up glossy white molding and homemade curtains for contrast. she has a gorgeous hedge of hydrangeas outside her room so it is lovely in the spring.
we do what we can in life. I too thought i'd be in something old and airy with wood floors and warbly windows, but hell I am just grateful to have a house at all. the trick is making it feel like mine.
In other news, I got another baby in me, who will show up right around Halloween time. Around here it will still be hot. You wouldn't believe some of the well-meaning comments i've gotten begging me not to get so fat again. fortunately, I'm getting none of that from my number one fan, who insists "you better feed my baby! you're supposed to get fat!" he has a theory that the fatter I get the sweeter my disposition, the heartier and easier my laugh... I'm afraid he's right. alas, it is only a short term solution to my personality.
Mimi makes everything in life worthwhile, we busy ourselves nesting together and gardening these days. We like to start from seeds for real effect. Her most hilarious trick these days is droppin' babies all over the house. She births about 40-50 babies a day. The game consists of wadding up a babydoll, shoving it under her shirt, announcing meaningfully that she has a baby in her tummy, (sometimes she even makes it kick for added drama). For the finale, her eyebrows shoot up in surprise, she yanks her shirt up, grabs the baby and announces its arrival, blue eyes all a-glitter with excitement, "It's a boy!" "Oh wow Mimi, what will you name him?"
"Ruby!" she exclaims.