Holding Pattern

So, late tomorrow night (tonight I suppose, but in reality early Friday morning) my girl is starting off on her journey to Japan with her dad for most of the month. It's kind of freaking me out. (Kind of might be an understatement.) She is going with her father and staying with her grandparents and rationally I understand that it's highly likely that everything will be fine, but the non-rational part of me is not happy that my only baby is going to be so far away from me on the other side of the planet. I'm not handling it particularly well and I'm afraid I'm going to eventually turn into one of those wacky basketcase empty-nest moms when she finishes high school and leaves for college.
When I was going through the divorce I was really afraid my ex might try to take her back to Japan, in which case I would have been screwed because Japan basically condones parental kidnapping by Japanese parents. (See here if you really want to get into). It obviously didn't happen but it was a huge fear of mine for a long time. My girl is no longer the compliant little buttercup she used to be. She's about to become a high school freshman and has that "kicking ass and taking names" attitude some kids develop at that age. (It can lead to recklessness, but it can also lead to not taking anyone else's shit, which I think is good in this situation.) I'm pretty sure one within one day her grandparents will start lamenting that she will have to leave them at the end of the month and they will do that emotional pressure thing they are so skillful at, where you feel like you should sacrifice your own interests because they're old and will be sad. (Well, I got sucked into that whole thing WAY more than I ever should have, but maybe that is just me.) I've made sure the girl has the information she needs to get help from me and several other people she can count on, if it comes to that. I'm even going to be in Japan myself for about half the time she is there. And yet, I'm still holding on to something that keeps me a twitch away from breaking into tears at any moment.
I'm mostly trying to cope by incessant internet surfing, watching stupid tv and knitting. (Kind of like a self-induced stupor without substances.) I break that up with yoga, trips to the gym and walking the dog. I feel better if I don't talk much and my appetite is pretty much shot, but that's good because it's helped me drop about 3 pounds and if I drop a couple more before I go then I will have reached the high side of an "acceptable" weight versus the actual weight I have weighed since about last summer, which is 5-10 pounds on the unacceptable side. (And which is not even all that terrible or health-threatening or anything. I just don't like those numbers.)
So, now that I've shared probably too much info, I guess I can go to bed. I think I've been staying up so late because it lets me sleep in later in the morning. This stupid wet, gloomy, sunless weather isn't helping me much either.

Is This What You Get When You Mix Jewish and Buddhist?

"The psychic told me I've lived thousands of lives!" my mother told me, excitedly.
And you still haven't transcended? was my initial reaction, which I kept to myself.

It Takes A Family

I'm not sure if my family would have even been able to deal with it, but I wonder if something like this had been available if things might have turned out different with my younger sister.
I always found it so weird that none of her doctors, psychiatrists or therapists ever asked me about anything. We were a year apart and had mostly the same group of friends for so long. I always thought I could have provided a lot of insight if anyone had bothered to ask. Instead what I got was some directive to practice "tough love" and to not let her in if she came home. That was fucked up.

Mother's Day

My mom gave me a wonderful Mother's Day present this year. Many of them, actually. A big bag full of old pictures and letters sent home from camp. I've gone through the pictures. Generally I can say that I was a cute baby and toddler. Also kind of cute in the early years of elementary school. Something went horribly wrong late elementary school and into junior high because suddenly I look like a white, girl version of Urkel in all the photos. (Big glasses, striped or plaid shirts, no suspenders, at least. But there is evidence of white overalls worn with red Nike sneakers.) There seem to have been a few sane years during high school before I so unwisely decided to capstone the period with a permed, "new wave" mullet. Nice.
What really stuck me was how many of the photos were of me and my younger sister, Kate. We were born exactly one year apart. Our mother often dressed us in matching outfits. In most of the picture Kate was there, standing to my left. Two peas in a pod. She has been gone for 14 years now. Until I saw those pictures again I had kind of forgotten how we were always together. It makes me miss her all over again.

Happy

Wow. I was going to try to be eloquent and write gracefully about my ex-mother in law, but I'm feeling too happy for eloquent execution right now. My former mother in law has called me recently because of some paperwork she needed me to sign regarding some investments she made in my daughter's name. With the divorce and all I hadn't spoken to her for a couple of years and knowing the typical Japanese reaction to divorce and the acrimony of my ex, I figured the whole family probably hated me.
I was wrong.
My mother in law called last week, and along with discussing the business part of things, we also did a lot of catching up. She told me she still considers me her daughter (she grew up the youngest of five or six girls and then went on to have two sons herself) and invited me to stay at the house when I visit Japan next summer. It made me very happy to talk with her and to hear that she is well and doesn't have any hard feelings.
She called again this morning to let me know she received the documents I sent and to thank me. We chatted some more. She told me again that despite the divorce, she still thinks of me as her daughter and once again said to come stay with them next summer. At the end of this call I had my wits about me enough to ask her to give my regards to her husband.
My ex-father in law and I have had some rough moments. I've spent a fair amount of time being pissed off at him for blaming me for his dissatisfactions with his son. I kind of figured we were definitely on the outs now, no matter what my mother in law said because I know she's the kind of person who will do as she wishes even if it rubs him the wrong way.
Well, after I said "please send my regards" she put him on the phone. He sounded healthy and cheerful and , dare I say it, happy to be speaking with me! He also told me I was their daughter and to stay healthy and come stay with them next year.
This whole development really blows my mind. In a good way.

Hiking with Buddha

Today was a gorgeous summer day and the Girl and I finally started up our seasonal hiking with a trip to Mt. Major. Since Wonderful Boyfriend was at work and has been having knee problems anyway, it was our first girls-only hike. Except I guess it really wasn't girls-only since the Girl's Pocket Buddha came with us. (She has the pink Peace Buddha and carries him around on a daily basis.)
We took the Boulder Loop trail, which starts on the left side of the parking lot, for the ascent. It lived up to its name and was full of rocks and boulders. There were some pretty steep sections in the boulder field, but the last 0.4 mile to the summit was an easy stroll across rocky ledges surrounded by tons of low blueberry bushes. I like it when the last spurt to the summit is a stroll rather than a heart-bursting ordeal. The views from the summit were superb and we spent about half an hour eating gorp and jerky and taking in the scenery.
I thought about taking the Brook Trail on the way down, but the Main Trail has such great views of Lake Winnipesaukee that I figured we might as well enjoy them a little longer. The Main Trail is steep at the top but the latter part is pretty easy. I managed to get to about a half mile from the end of the trail before my knee started twinging, so I didn't even bother with my knee brace.
It was a great warm-up hike to break in the the Girl's new boots. Next week we're heading up to Holderness to do the Mt. Morgan/Mt. Percival loop.

Blah

My summer vacation has started and I'm already catching shit from my family and questioning my own self-worth because of it. Good times, huh?
The deal is that I teach during the academic school year and also translate on a freelance basis. Freelance basis means sometimes I have too much work coming in and I have to turn down offers and sometimes nothing's coming in and I could, theoretically, just kick back and relax and enjoy my free time.
Except...
Except I don't just kick back and enjoy the down time. I spend the down time wondering if I should go back to school for yet another degree in order to "change careers" or whether I really should, as my father urges every time he sees me, figure out how to contact Theo Epstein and try to get a gig an an interpreter for the Red Sox even though I couldn't give a shit about baseball and abhor the thought of commuting to Boston, never mind traveling for a job. And then there's my sister, who is now gainfully employed by dad after years of slackerdom, and her not-so-subtle contemptuous tone of "oh, that must be nice" when I tell her I'm currently not working on any translation at the moment and am done with school for the year. Well, excuse me for having skills that let me work freelance and also for having received my settlement check from the divorce, which along with the payment checks now coming in for the work I kicked ass on last month and the understanding and generosity of my wonderful boyfriend who values my contributions to our home and family even if they aren't all measured in dollars, lessens the immediate need to pull in a paycheck at the moment.
But, really, I know I should just say screw them and enjoy this opportunity to slow down and enjoy life. I figured out a long time ago that "high-powered" is not what I want to be. I love to teach. Time flies when I'm in the classroom and it doesn't feel so much like work. Translation isn't quite as much fun as teaching, but I like the freedom of working freelance. So what's the problem? I don't make a ton of money so that means I'm "wasting my potential"? What if my potential to be happy with the way my life is now means more to me than my potential to bust my ass to impress my family?

Emptying the Cup

Last night was my girl's last night staying in the apartment. (She stays with her father from tonight until the weekend.) She was very cute about it. Her best friend, who lives across the street, called her shortly before supper time and asked if she would like to go on a walk with her, her dad and her little brother. Although she was a little hesitant, my girl decided to go since it was a "last chance" kind of thing. As seven o'clock started to roll around and my stomach started to growl, I text messaged the girl to ask when she was coming home to eat our Moe's. She showed up at the door a few minutes later, out of breath, sweaty and a little angry . It seems her friend kept urging her dad to make the walk longer and longer and during that time my girl decided she was sorry she had gone in the first place because she wanted to spend as much time as she could with me in the apartment on our last night here together. She's such a sweetie.
We had our sandwiches and shared a bag of salt and vinegar chips. Then we settled into the couch (loveseat, really) to watch American Idol and did our best to finish up all the ice cream in the freezer so I don't have to move it or throw it out. She was so aware that everything she did, she was doing it for the last time here. She even made a point to pause and ask for a "last hug" in the apartment before I took her to school this morning. I keep reassuring her that we'll still be together, but I also understand how she feels.
We're both excited about the move, but I think it's natural to feel some uncertainty. We've been settled into our routines for a few years now and they are comfortable and comforting to us. But change is a constant in life and we can create new routines and new comforts and adapt the ones we have to new situations. Letting go of the familiar is always difficult, but it's the only way to keep moving forward.

Marking February Gone

It wasn't the drugs that killed her
they were used to mask the deeper
mental illness
wasn't what killed her either
maybe
her life is what ended her life
all the decisions upon decisions
to take whatever would make her lose control
until she was all out
all she has missed being gone
all who have missed her
even the ones who never met her
who were not here when she was
decisions upon decisions
leave echos and hidden scars

And the Other Reason Is This

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about my reasons for going to Weight Watchers, although I don't know if I also mentioned that one of the main reasons I go is because it's something I do with my Dad, who I don't see too often otherwise.
The person I was introduced to at the meeting a couple of weeks ago was actually my Mom's hairdresser. This means she is a person who plays a central role in my mother's life, seeing as how Mom is one of those ladies who goes to the salon every week to get her hair "done". Anyway, when I called my mother last week to catch up she mentioned that the woman made the same comment to her that she made to me-- "Pam doesn't really need to go to Weight Watchers." Mom then proceeded to tell me that the reason that people say that about me is because I have a "thin face" and people really just look at that and make their assessment. It's because they aren't really looking at the rest of me.
Well, I know I would have been well within my rights to call her on that kind of comment right there. You know, stand up for myself and tell her that actually my body isn't all that gigantic and is not freakishly mismatched with my face. (vision of pinhead on balloon body dances though my head) But I know that sometimes Mom talks without thinking and can say things that she would deny actually meaning if her thought process was fully engaged as she spoke. What I did was just let her ramble on about it a bit without reacting and recognized in myself that this is probably why I have such a hang up about my weight to begin with.

Irony or Blindness?

I find it so weird when my (remaining) sister and I go out to lunch with our dad and she talks about the travails of raising a teenager and says, so earnestly, "I know we did some dangerous things when we were that age but at least nothing bad happened to us." What in the world does she mean? Our little sister ended up in mental institutions in her teens and was addicted to drugs until she died at 27. Something very bad obviously did happen to us. We lost Katie and we lost her years before she died.
I never say anything and Dad always just kind of nods, but he must be thinking the same thing as me. I need to find the right time and place to point that out to her so she can maybe stop saying it.

Sisters

sisters.jpg,
originally uploaded by bassbot.

Although I generally try to avoid it, I went in and did some work at my Dad's office today. My older sister works as a business manager for my dad's firm and occasionally I go in to help out with some things, which means I'm at the office with my sister and my father. About 5:30 this evening, my sister and I were summoned into Dad's office. Never can tell what that's going to mean.
Dad had a stack of old photos on his desk. There were lots of baby photos of my older sister and lots of photos of our family, my grandparents and even some old photos of my dad's family from back when he was in his teens and early twenties and of his parents back when they were young. He showed us some that he was going to keep and gave us some to keep. I got several photos of me and my sisters. The one posted here is of me and my younger sister Kate. I was three and she was two (so I'm the big one). We were on vacation in Florida. Dig our pink ponchos with yellow pom-pom trim! I love the look on Kate's face and the way she is insistently reaching for my hand. In some of the other photos she's looking at me that same way. We were only one year apart in age (to the day. We shared a birthday.) She was such a powerhouse of a personality that I rarely think that she ever looked up to me and so many of my later memories of her life are painful and regretful, so it's nice to have these pictures now to remember back when we were little and how perfect the world seemed then.