Gifts play an important role in Japanese culture, so any trip to Japan for us means taking gifts for family and others . . . and in our case this usually means lots of gifts. However, Brett, YaYu and I will only each be taking a carry-on bag, and one additional bag for under-seat stowage (tote bag for me; backpacks for Brett and YaYu), so making sure everything fits and arrives in good condition will be a bit of a challenge.
Besides clothing for eleven days, here’s what we’ve got to fit into our luggage this time:
Gifts for our granddaughter: Two onesies, a Hawaiian-print sundress, some leggings, a stuffed hippo, a feeding set, and some ocean-themed blocks.
For our grandson: Star Wars Lego set (he’s obsessed with both right now), Star Wars Lego t-shirt, six boxes of macaroni & cheese, and two packages of tortillas (for quesadillas). Tortillas and mac & cheese are available in Japan, but are super expensive.
For our daughter-in-law, Kona coffee and Kaua’i made soap.
We’re giving our son some of his U.S. favorites that are unavailable in Japan. He especially loves anything chocolate & mint, and it’s hard if not impossible to find in Japan. We’ll also get him two to three cases of Diet Coke from the mini mart in the hotel while we’re there – you can’t buy it otherwise in Japan, and he loves it.
We’ll probably get together with our daughter-in-law’s parents, so we’re prepared with a small gift of Hawaiian items: Kona coffee, chocolate covered macadamia nuts, and Kaua’i-made cookies.
Because it’s so ridiculously expensive now to mail anything to Japan, we are taking along some of our granddaughter’s first birthday gift: eight board books, a birthday card and gift bag. We’ll buy a couple of other things while we’re there for them to put away until her birthday.
We’re also taking several gift bags, tissue paper and tape, and will assemble and wrap everything once we get to our hotel room. Presentation is important in Japan!
The big question as we start this week is whether we can get all of this to fit into our bags. I think we can – the only “big” items are the box of cereal and the Lego set. Brett is a master packer (and I’m no slouch), and I’m confident will find ways to squeeze everything in. We do have some Space Bags to use if we need them, but I’m hoping they won’t be needed.
In the coming month our family’s emotions will run the gamut from deep loss to profound joy.
My mom is getting ever nearer to the end of her life. It’s been just over a month since I saw her, and there have apparently been profound changes since then. Her pain is increasing, as is her dementia. She still has an appetite, but is losing weight. We were informed last week by hospice that Mom is most likely entering her last few weeks of life, but no one can say for sure how much longer she will be with us. She is still her positive and upbeat self and gets up and dressed every day, but it’s getting harder each time. She frequently talks of her parents now, either that they’re coming soon, or that they’ve been taking care of things for her, bringing her things. This is not uncommon with the dying, to sense the presence of and talk to already dead relatives and friends.
My father’s death was sudden but not unexpected, and even though he and I were not close it was still a shock. My mother’s death is expected, but I already know it will affect me far more profoundly than my father’s did. My mom and I have had our differences, but she has lived a long time, had a good life, and lived it her way. She has been a genuine force of nature, a comet racing across the sky, and the world will be emptier without her in it.
Great joy will also be coming in October though as our new granddaughter is due to arrive this month! My son and daughter-in-law are ready, with the baby crib set up and other baby gear cleaned and ready to be put into use again. Our grandson is also excited and eager to meet “his baby.” Our son will be taking several weeks off from work to take care of things around the house, and get our grandson to school and home while our daughter-in-law recovers and adjusts to life with two children.
This time we don’t know the name they have chosen for the baby, and we’re looking forward to learning what they’ve decided on. We’ve tried to guess but have given up; we can’t figure out a name that works in both Japanese and English. I wish we could meet our granddaughter sooner than next year, but hopefully March will be here before we know it. Brett and I are looking forward to being those grandparents again when we go to Japan, with suitcases bursting full of baby things, and goodies for our grandson as well. We’re so excited about getting to spend loads of time with both our grandchildren.
Both death and great sadness, birth and great joy will enter our lives this month. It’s a bit overwhelming to contemplate at times, but that’s just how life happens sometimes.
WenYu and I had a great time on the south shore this past Saturday, finishing up the last bit of shopping that needed to be done before she leaves for college next week. We had a fun time together, and enjoyed our lunch stop at Puka Dogs in Poipu.
This will be WenYu’s last week of work for the summer; Saturday is her final day. She’s been starting to get her things organized, and packing will begin in earnest next weekend. We’ll finish that up on Monday, and on Tuesday morning she and I will leave to take her back to Massachusetts.
Although she’s not our youngest child, WenYu was our last baby, the last child whose diapers we changed, watched take her first step and all those other milestones. Brett and I had requested to adopt an older child, a toddler between the ages of two and four because we were getting older, and had also gotten rid of almost all of the baby things we had borrowed for Meiling’s arrival. When we got “the call” from our social worker two months earlier than expected, letting us know that we had been matched with a 10-month old baby, we were told we could turn down the referral because she was so much younger than we had requested. However, Brett and I both felt there must have been a good reason this baby was matched to us, and we accepted the referral without hesitation.
WenYu was and continues to be the easiest baby/toddler/child/teenager/young woman to raise. There were no “terrible” years, ever. No scenes, no tantrums, no talking back, no demands, no sulking. We could have sent her to have tea with the Queen at age three and not worried about her manners or ability to make conversation. She’s always been a good listener, and able to see what’s under the surface in almost every situation . . . an old soul. She has always provided a calm, serene presence in our family. She is the child that eats anything without complaint; the one that when you ask for an opinion gives a thoughtful one, and with kindness; the student who gives a little bit more than what is asked for.
She’s never been a pushover though. She knows how to assert herself, both subtly and otherwise, and you know if she asks you stop, or says no, that she means it. One of my favorite memories was when I took her to swim lessons when she was three years old. Meiling was also learning to swim and took to it like a fish to water, moving up to the next level after each six-week session. WenYu, on the other hand, happily went along to the pool, put on her swimsuit without complaint, got into the pool with her classmates, and then did nothing. She ended the year at the same level she started because she was just not interested in learning to swim at age three and this was how she chose to assert herself. But the next year? She decided she was ready, and after that she was the one moving up after each session, and ended up surpassing everyone else. We’ve learned that she may do things on her own schedule, but she always gets done what she needs to, and always on time.
Is she perfect? Most definitely not. Her spirit animal is the sloth, and her pace can sometimes leave the rest of us feeling very frustrated. She’s a packrat and her room is always a mess, and I genuinely feel for her upcoming roommate. We’ve made her promise that she at least keeps her mess to her side of the room.
WenYu wrote the following when she was 16:
Sometimes as an adoptee, I feel like my mosaic is flipped over, so all my pieces are undetected, mounted on a foreign substance — material that is familiar to me, but completely bizarre to some. People want to inspect me. They want to know my “dramatic” life story. They want to know about my “real” parents. Am I related to my sisters? Would I change anything? In return, I smile and shake or nod my head respectfully, but in the back of my mind I can’t help but wonder, “Why does it matter?”
I don’t mind being asked these questions. I believe curiosity isn’t something that should be held in contempt, but sometimes I am confronted by people who believe that because I’m adopted, I’m missing a crucial part of who I am. They look at me as though my picture can never be complete. My personal experiences have actually had the opposite effect. I am confident in this growing montage of myself. I know what I like, what I believe in, what I want to do with my life. I don’t think anyone can control these things. Of course our parents will influence us, but it is my own decision whether I find their opinions to be true or not.
As I’ve grown, more pieces have been added to my “big picture,” slowly covering that unknown material that is my foundation. I was born a clean slate, but it was me who found these fragments that made my mosaic strong. After 15 years of being an adoptee, I realize that everyone is defined by more than where or who they come from. I am more than blood and DNA. I am more than a pair of brown eyes. I am a mind, and a voice. I am somebody’s daughter. Someone’s sister, whether we came from the same people or not. I am—in the simplest, most true way of describing it—Me.
We are going to miss WenYu so very, very much, but at the same time we are so excited for her that we can barely stand it. She is ready to fly away as her own person, and we want to yell, “Look out world! Here she comes!”
Looking back, sometimes in our lives there’s that one choice we make that seemingly changes everything, and affects everything that comes after it. We may or may not recognize its importance at the time. Call it fate or whatever, what appears to be an insignificant choice at the time can end up having a profound influence on almost everything that happens after, in both small and large ways.
I graduated from high school in 1970. I had applied to several colleges, but Lewis & Clark College in Portland was at the top of my list, and I was accepted in early spring. Lewis & Clark is known for their overseas study programs, and after my acceptance I was sent an application for the upcoming overseas programs that were being offered during my freshman year. The only one I was even remotely interested in was England. On the application we were asked to choose a back-up program just in case we weren’t selected for our first choice, so I marked Japan, the only other program where language proficiency wasn’t a requirement. I didn’t know the first thing about Japan, and didn’t give it another thought – I was going to England.
On graduation day in June I received a letter from Lewis & Clark informing me that I had been selected for the 1971 Overseas Study trip to Japan, and in early January 1971 I and 18 fellow Lewis & Clark students boarded the S.S. President Cleveland in San Francisco, and sailed off to the east. Two weeks later we disembarked in Yokohama. Right behind me in the immigration line were John Lennon and Yoko Ono, who had been on the same cruise as our little group*. At one point, John leaned over and asked me if I had had a nice trip. “Yes, I did. How about you?” I have no idea what he answered because I think at that point I had melted into a puddle on the floor.
Our group spent five months in Japan, doing homestays in Tokyo and Hiroshima, and living in a hotel in Takarazuka (located in the middle of Kyoto, Kobe and Osaka, and famous for the all-female Takarazuka Review). The final two weeks of our trip we traveled by train along the western coast up to the north, staying in youth hostels each night, all the way up to Sapporo for another short homestay. During our time in Japan we took language and culture classes, visited famous and interesting locations, learned to eat (and love) sushi, wasabi and other Japanese food, did research for a major paper, and improved our Japanese.
I didn’t see it coming, but in those five months I fell totally and completely head-over-heels in love with Japan.
Looking back, that one trip, taken when I was just 18, has played a highly influential role in my life ever since. It’s influence has stretched far beyond a young college student’s visit to a foreign country (which of course is one of the reasons Lewis & Clark holds overseas study trips every year).
Here’s some of what’s resulted because instead of going to England, I instead went to my second choice country:
Because of my desire to go back, Brett did two tours with the navy in Japan, when our son was young. Our first tour was for three-years (1980-1983), the second for three and a half (1989-1992). The second tour included nearly two years of living out in town like a local. That was hard at the time, but I now feel so thankful for the experience. We traveled all over Japan both times we lived there, made wonderful friends, and brought home some beautiful treasures.
I taught English conversation during our tours in Japan, which inspired me to get my Master’s degree in TESOL when we returned to the U.S. I had a wonderful career teaching English to amazing and inspiring students from all over the world, and am so much richer for it, as well as getting a pretty nice retirement package.
When we returned to the U.S. after our second tour, our son decided to teach himself Japanese because he wanted to read the manga (Japanese comics) he had brought back from Japan. He ended up more proficient than the Japanese teacher at his high school, and went on to major in Japanese Studies in college. He did his junior year abroad in Japan, and met a Waseda University student at a party; she would eventually become his wife. Following his graduation from college, he went to Japan and taught English for a couple of years, then worked at the U.S. Embassy for several years before returning to the States to attend law school. He has been working as an attorney in Japan since graduation.
When I went back to college, I took an anthropology class on East Asia to learn more about Japanese culture. My professor had just adopted a little girl from China and told me about the process. Two years later Brett and I travelled to China to adopt Meiling, and we went back twice more to adopt WenYu and YaYu.
Because our son and his family live in Japan, one of the things we were looking for in a retirement location, besides good weather, was proximity to Japan. It’s one of the reasons we ended up in Hawai’i, where there are plenty of direct flights to Tokyo, and a prominent Japanese influence in the local culture. I’ve been to Japan twice since we moved, and we’ll be going again next year to meet our new granddaughter. Brett and I are looking forward to spending several months in Japan each year once YaYu has headed off to college.
Of course, all these things might still have occurred if I had gone to England in 1971; there’s no way to know. However, I know for sure these things did happen because I went on that first trip to Japan.
I’ve always seen my life as a sort of giant flow chart. Each choice I make along the way, big or small, determines both future choices and the continuing direction of not only my own life but my family’s as well. These days I think carefully about how a choice or decision I’m making will determine or influence what happens in the future. But at eighteen I didn’t consider the future so closely, if at all, and couldn’t imagine that a casual selection of Japan as an alternative for overseas study would end up having such a profound influence on the path my and my family’s lives have taken, and for so long.
*I cannot find it, darn it, but somewhere I have the most wonderful photo, taken by the ship’s photographer, of John and Yoko stretched out on deck chairs, bundled up against the cold and wearing their puffy life jackets during the weekly drill.
Yes it does if you stay in $400 a night hotels like I used to do.
It was fun.
The truth is I love to travel solo.
I don’t have to wait for a friend to break up with her lover, leave their job, or save enough money to go with me.
When I want to go to Nepal, Colombia, or Sardinia I put on my Van sneakers and go!
I can sit in a fancy pants bar/restaurant like I am now and write. And enjoy a superb glass of red wine and be at ease and comfortable.
You never have to negotiate where to go based on money.
I was backpacking in the Himalayas solo in 2009 in Sikkim, India and realized I was spending less money per month than I received for renting out my apartment in Palo Alto, California.
I was spending less than $300 per month to stay in guesthouses eating home made Tibetan soup and momos, traveling by share jeep in the Himalayas, and having a blast.
I came home from that 10-month trip with money in the bank.
Don’t go over your budget on lodging. Yes you can splash out for a few days. But you can also get budget accommodation and live it up at the upper crust lounge/restaurant like I am now.
Secret: you can often work/write in 5-star surroundings enjoying the incredible views and then go back to your Airbnb room, campsite, or rented home.
You’ll discover that having a set amount to spend on lodging will keep you kosher.
I often times suggest a lower price on a room when the price suggested is too high.
It’s called rich foreigner tax. Many countries, like India, have no set prices on their rooms, the price is whatever they can get.
So haggle wisely, you’re still most likely paying too much.
One of the best things I ever did was travel twice around the world with no itinerary buying one-way plane tickets along the way.
If I felt like staying in Bali another month I could, no discussion.
If I wanted to explore Burma for a month, I went.
First time I went round the world I spent $2900 on plane tickets, the 2nd time I spent $1800. No I didn’t buy a RTW ticket, it doesn’t give you freedom on your journey.
For example I decided to stay in Cambodia for 4 weeks when I couldn’t stomach the thought of leaving.
I was falling in love with Siem Reap, where Angkor Wat is located and so I stayed.
No heated arguments. I found an incredible local guesthouse: Rosie’s guesthouse. And another one, Ou Malay where the Cambodian owners and I had a love fest of laughing and daily camaraderie.
It was $7 a night, no wifi but so what?! We loved each other!
You meet so many people!
When you’re solo, there’s no one to listen or talk to. You can be alone with your own thoughts and then Bam! you meet someone seriously interesting who lights up your world and you wonder how you ever would have met them if you were with someone.
This has happened to me more times than I can count. And I’m still in touch with many friends I met traveling from Spain, Korea, Australia, Nepal, India, Germany, and Argentina.
They shook up my world and invited me into a new portal of love and friendship. I never would have met them if I wasn’t solo.
Being solo you have to reach out. It can be intoxicating.
Traveling solo, I mention my thoughts to whoever is standing by, I don’t take offense if they don’t respond, I’m simply radiating aloha which means, I’m spreading good will and happiness which is what the Dalai Lama advises but I didn’t realize until living in Hawaii that this means Aloha.
Pay attention. You might meet your soulmate, best friend ever, or meditation master around the next corner.
Suddenly you’ll be in a new world that you had no idea even existed.
Yes you can be safe but you have to trust your gut. Don’t negotiate with the red alert warnings your instincts tell you. Pay attention.
Your body knows before your mind. Listen.
And while you are at it: don’t tell people you’re traveling solo. Don’t advertise your solo status by flagrantly drinking and carousing. Really.
Do make friends with families and women. Volunteer with humanitarian foundations that are educating and changing lives. Don’t be afraid to talk to people and smile.
A smile is universal. Yes it works in every country. Try it. It works.
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Our short visit to Waikiki has been . . . perfect. In just two and half days here we’ve enjoyed great weather, gotten everything done we wanted and needed to do, and we‘ve relaxed.
I don’t know what we did right, but the room we were given at the Hale Koa was on the top floor, with sweeping views of the resort grounds, the ocean and Waikiki Beach. We spent a lot of time at the hotel out on our lanai enjoying the view, whether that was for the sunset in the evening, or coffee and breakfast in the morning, or relaxing between other activities. Our room was spacious and comfortable, and the hotel had everything you could think of: restaurants, several bars, casual dining options, two pools (one for 18 and older only), beach access and rentals, tennis courts, a day spa, a gym, and beautiful grounds for strolling. Most things are for military only (you have to present ID to get in), but a few things, like the day spa, are open to the public with military receiving a discount. We laughed that Brett probably had the longest hair there (for a guy), and seemed to be the only retiree not sporting a ball cap that stated “Retired <branch of service>.”
One of our primary reasons for coming to Oahu was for the girls to do some shopping. Neither has really bought any new clothes for two years other than t-shirts for school, and with WenYu needing clothes for college they were eager to hit the stores. After we checked in on Wednesday afternoon we took a short walk over to the Royal Hawaiian Shopping Center to let them get started. Brett and I turned them loose while we found a quiet seat outside and enjoyed coffee and lemonade, and watched Japanese tourists shop and learn the hula (they picked it up very quickly).
We slept in on Thursday morning, enjoyed our breakfast on the lanai, and then walked over to the huge Ala Moana Center, about a mile away. The girls took off on their own once we got there, and Brett and I mostly spent our time window shopping but bought a couple of things for ourselves: I got new pair of slippahs (flip flops) and some lingerie, and Brett got a new 10-year shaving brush for his Father’s Day gift – his old one is on its very last legs. We met up with the girls in the late afternoon and rode the bus back to the hotel. Dinner that night was at one of the hotel snack bars, with the girls staying to swim for awhile afterwards and Brett and I heading back to our room to enjoy the sunset. We surprised the girls when they got back with some tasty cupcakes from the famous Magnolia Bakery – they have an outpost in the Ala Moana Center.
Yesterday was dedicated to relaxation. We slept in again, had breakfast on the lanai, and then we all headed in different directions for a while. Brett visited the nearby Army Museum of Hawai’i, the girls went to the pool, and I went to the day spa for a manicure and pedicure. We all got together for lunch at another one of the snack bars (all the snack bars served really tasty food), then headed to the pool for an afternoon of swimming and sunbathing. The girls took off early and went back into town for one last round of shopping while Brett and I relaxed at the Maile pool for a while longer.
We had not planned to do any restaurant dining, but one of the Hale Koa’s restaurants hosts an all-you-can-eat buffet every evening at a very reasonable price, and Friday evening we learned they were serving crab legs and peel-and-eat shrimp as well as the regular menu items, so we decided we had to go. Our table came with a gorgeous view of the beach, and the food was amazing! We all ate too much, but agreed it was well worth it!
Then we headed down to the beach to view Diamond Head once more, and see the sun set, before heading back to our room to watch the fireworks show in honor of Kamahemeha Day, the biggest state holiday in Hawai’i. We ended the day getting everything packed and ready for this morning’s departure for home.
While we greatly enjoyed the hustle and bustle of Honolulu and Waikiki, we are glad to be heading home to our slower-paced island. The getaway was a great one though – we all had a terrific time, got what we needed and did not go over budget! Brett and I are especially proud of the girls and their shopping prowess – they found lots of great stuff and are coming home with money still in their accounts. We’ll definitely be heading back to Waikiki again, but next time will give ourselves more time for sightseeing around the island. We loved our time on Oahu!
I had no desire to visit India until my son asked me to go.
He was living in Nepal and ready for a fresh adventure after volunteering in Kathmandu.
I had missed out on Morocco when he asked me to go with him and a friend when we met in Spain (I had to go to Italy for the first time) so no way was I going to say no to India and a chance to let my son lead me to a brand new country.
So I jumped in with no prior knowledge of India except for seeing the movie Gandhi.
That first trip to India and Nepal changed my life, turned me upside down, and electrified my bone marrow. I was never the same again.
The photo of me above was shot right after rafting down the Ganges River in the winter; drenched with icy waves over our heads as we paddled to stay afloat.
Of course we had to volunteer for the front paddling positions in the boat which means you get the worst of the waves over your head and the rest of the passengers just get sprayed.
But I never felt so alive in my life.
My son pushed me to go.
I just wanted to read a book that day.
India blasted open my spirit, forcing me to leap way out of my comfort zone.
I was cold in the Himalayas, I got deathly sick, but I also ate tasty delectable food, was immersed in a multitude of religions, saw the Dalai Lama teach at his home in Dharamsala, had my eye balls seared with women’s colorful clothing, met gurus, saints, and friendly elephants!
There is nothing India doesn’t have but order.
There aren’t any rules in India: you can have bonfires in the street with cows who want to get warm in the high ethers of the Himalayas.
People drive recklessly. Watch out crossing the street. You don’t want to get mowed down by a motorbike or attacked by a monkey.
Some monkeys are mean in India, one stole my new dress off the clothes line and I didn’t find it until 2 hours later in the dark with my flashlight.
I’ve since been to India 4 times solo. And as soon as I left that first time, I wanted to go back. I found myself in Bali which seemed awfully tame compared to jolt your eyes open India.
What made me buck up and get strong?
The fact that yes I’m deliciously free and can make all my own decisions.
This is a huge opportunity for possible risk but it was also a leap into the unknown, an adventure beckoning, a bewildering array of options, food I couldn’t identify and stumbling happily through a language I didn’t understand.
I tried to learn Hindi and the Nepali language.
“Sundar” means pretty in Nepal. And meeto-cha means this food is yummy. That’s all I learned and actually I didn’t need to know anymore on that first trip.
After traveling with my son for a month, we went solo on our own paths. And boy did my India adventure change.
Being solo is misunderstood in India.
Local people from India wonder why you’re not traveling with your in-laws, 7 children and two sets of grandparents. Really.
Many people want to help you in India, some are scammers, and some are saints. Both will approach you especially when you are solo.
Here is what I do now. I surround myself with a shield of white light and send out the message with my mind, you will not approach me unless I invite you.
Do you remember the Beatles White Album? Much of it was written in Rishikesh, where I shot the photo below.
The Beatles stayed at a now defunct ashram with Maharishi on the Ganges River while they learned meditation and wrote songs.
What I did was I was lay on the marble floor of this gorgeous “ghat.” (a river side temple, dock, or bathing spot)
The nightly puja was happening.
My tripod was only 6 inches high, one of those tiny jobs that don’t extend, but even though a policeman’s foot was inches from my head, I got this shot from a unique angle.
My body commanded me to capture it.
That’s the real secret of how I get the money shots. My body tells me to shoot and I listen.
So this was our happy hour of prayers, offerings, songs, and chanting.
Puja persuaded me to stop drinking wine when I hadn’t decided to give it up.
But Rishikesh is a holy town in the foothills of the Himalayas; you can’t get booze there.
I was not going to get on the boat, cross the Ganges, and go into town to purchase low grade wine or spirits.
I had spirits at the puja so instead of a cocktail I joined the young Hindu priests, the head swami, and countless tourists from India and worldwide.
I was in heaven.
Afterwards we would meet with Swami for a blessing (darshan) then I’d walk back to my room at the ashram, or go hook up with Skype, being careful not to step in the cow flops along the path.
Yes India has the internet. And this was in 2006.
But India is the mothership. All roads lead to her.
You don’t have to go to the Himalayas to turn your world upside down pineapple cake but it was just what I needed after living in Palo Alto, California, the epicenter of Silicon Valley for 29 years, not knowing that outside this comfortable bubble of technology, splendor, and genius, there was a world named India that whispered to me, Just Do It.
So I did and I thank my son for inspiring me to do it.
I took 3 months off from life in Palo Alto, turned down work, closed my apartment door, paid the rent which was significant, and set out for India, Nepal, and lastly, Bali.
If you ever hear the call to go to India, do it. Your life will never be the same.
Mary Bartnikowski is an author of 4 books, award-winning photographer in Palo Alto, Hawaii, and worldwide for 29 years.
She has led programs at Apple, Stanford, Intel, and globally.
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Is it possible to be a good daughter to a mother who’s made it clear over your lifetime that’s she’s just not all that into you?
Don’t get me wrong. I love my mom, and she loves me, and she’s been a strong influence in my life. Some of it’s been positive, but there’s been an awful lot of negative in there as well.
Mom clearly played favorites with her children, and wasn’t subtle about letting us know who those favorites were. Suffice it to say I was not one of them. The second of four children, I was apparently a cute, bright, cheerful but quiet and undemanding baby, and an intelligent, curious and sociable girl/young woman who loved to read, and did well all through school and in the activities I pursued. Whatever I did never seemed good enough though, and if I wasn’t being ignored I was being compared to others and found wanting. I was adequately fed, clothed and sheltered, but was never hugged or cuddled, there were no words of love, no positive reinforcement, and little to no interest in what I did or wanted to pursue. I was expected to behave and do well, but there was no encouragement, no rewards. Others may have known my parents were proud of me, but I never did.
Within the family I was considered flighty, flaky, too talkative, emotional. I had no voice; my parents spoke for me and decisions were made for me. If I stepped out of my role and tried to assert myself, or wanted to do something differently from my parent’s expectations, I was told I was difficult. Nothing has changed much. I’m in my 60s and still feel expected to play my role with my siblings. However, because I choose instead to keep my distance these days or not go along with my siblings’ ideas of what I should do and when I should do it, or how I should feel, I’m still considered difficult, or I’m dismissed.
I became deeply depressed as I was growing up, but was blessed (and lucky) to have people in my life along the way who encouraged and valued me. They saved my life. There was my grandmother, who held me and called me her “diamond in the rough,” and who told me over and over that I would go on to do great things. She was there for me many times when my parents didn’t show or step up. Mrs. P, a family friend and licensed psychologist and counselor, knew our family dynamic and warned me (and Brett after we got married) to keep my distance, that it was possible and OK to love my family but still not like them or want to be around them. Their goal, she said, was always going to be to put me in my place, to make me stay in my family role. It was Mrs. P who helped me accept that I was in fact a very strong, smart woman, and not at all the lightweight my family imagined. According to her, that I never turned to drugs or alcohol to blunt my depression was proof of an innate inner strength and resilience that my family refused to recognize and couldn’t destroy. There were other women as well along the way – neighbors, my friends’ mothers, teachers, my sister-in-law – who comforted me, supported me, held me up, told me I was beautiful and smart, and stepped in when Mom should have but didn’t.
My mother is 92 years old, and she is dying. I feel relieved that she will not have a long, lingering end-of-life experience (i.e. stroke, bedridden, and such) which is what I feared the most for her, but I also know it’s not going to be an easy death either. I have already made plans to visit her this summer, and will be her strong daughter. I’m the child who has worked with the elderly, who has nursed them and cleaned them, the one who has sat in the middle of the night with the dying so they were not alone, the child who will be there just to be there for mom, with no expectations. I have no illusions about what’s coming, but hope for her to pass as peacefully as possible. It’s time to put away the past for awhile.
I already feel a great sadness, not for how things were and for what will be gone, but for what could have been and never will be. She is my mother, for better or worse, and I will always love her, and I will miss her.
Life is pretty calm around here for the most part, with days flowing in and out of each other without a whole lot of turmoil and/or surprise.
This week is already begging to be different, with both good and bad news showing up.
Bad news out of the way first:
I don’t know what’s going on with my computer. It’s doing the whole overheating and battery draining again but it’s been inconsistent. I’ll have a bad day where I wonder if it will make it through the day and then the next day everything is perfectly normal (like yesterday). On Sunday afternoon it got so bad that I decided I’d better order a new laptop, and of course right after I did the overheating stopped and the battery began operating normally. Then, Monday morning the overheating and battery issues returned with a vengeance and hung around all day, but yesterday it was back to operating normally. This morning it’s fine again . . . so far. The new laptop arrives today but I don’t know whether to keep it or return it. I’m afraid if I don’t keep it this one will soon up and die, but if I do keep it this one will continue to run fine. Arrrrgh! I’m more than a bit upset about (possibly) having to buy a new laptop after only two years, especially after paying several hundred dollars to have this one repaired just six months ago for the same issues. I’ve been using a Mac for over 24 years now, and have never had a problem until I got this one.
I spoke with my phone service provider on Sunday morning about not being able to call or text with the new phone I had just received last week, and that tech support had determined the phone was defective. The rep I talked with was wonderful, and agreed to replace the phone without hesitation. However, I first had to pay for Phone #2, so that’s two phones out of our account right now (along with a new laptop). However, when Phone #1 is returned I will be credited back the full amount (free shipping for return is provided). Then, I got a notice on Monday afternoon that my new phone would arrive . . . in two weeks. What? Two weeks with no phone? But, late yesterday I received another email that the phone had shipped (!!!) and should be here tomorrow!
Staying on the winning side of things, I found both a great price and great schedule for WenYu’s and my flight back to Boston this summer. There were a few flights with cheaper prices (although not by much) but they either had l-o-n-g layovers or not enough layover (like only 35 minutes between flights, not enough time to even move the luggage from one plane to another, let alone passengers). Each of the less expensive flights also had a redeye segment, and after last month’s trip to Colorado neither WenYu nor I was eager to repeat that experience – we were both zombies when we arrived. The new flight schedule gives us a full 13-hour overnight layover, enough time to get a good night’s sleep and breakfast in a nearby hotel before returning to the airport in the morning and heading on to Boston, and with our luggage still checked through. I also got a terrific price on a nonstop flight between Boston and Denver – less than $200! – as well as for my flight from Denver back home – $328 – which includes a nonstop flight between Seattle and Lihue (we paid $378 per ticket just for the Seattle-Lihue non-stop, which was a bargain, when we moved in 2014). I also was able to reserve a room in the same B&B YaYu and I stayed at in Colorado when we visited in 2012 – it was the most reasonable place to stay in the area, is an easy commute to my mom’s residence, and the breakfasts are to die for. All that’s remaining to arrange now is ground transportation and hotel in Massachusetts, and I’m closing in on that.
And, saving the best for the last, WenYu was notified on Monday that she had been selected as one of ten statewide finalists and will be receiving a $3,000 scholarship!! One student from each high school in the state was chosen to receive a $1000 scholarship, then ten were chosen from among those students for the top finalist awards. This means that all of her costs this year at Wellesley will be met through scholarships and grants, that she will not need any federal financial aid to cover expenses. Brett and I are so proud of this girl we could just about burst!
You lose some, but you win some too! I’m still wondering though what the rest of the week will bring . . . .