It's been one week since I drove into Lincoln, NE at sunset while listening to David Broza. Someone asked if it was the same song. No, but it was the same album, "Big Secrets," my most favorite of his albums and likely one of those three or five things I'd take with me to a deserted island if I had to make that life decision. It's that good. An illustrator I'm working with said I should write to him and let him know he is now inextricably linked to Lincoln, Nebraska. I did email him years ago. And he did write back to me. (I'll never wash my email again.) But the sunset-in-Lincoln thing might be pushing it, even for me.
One of his songs, from that same album, plays a part in my second book. Maybe I'll send him a complimentary copy and add a handwritten note about Lincoln. Or maybe that would elevate me to psycho fan status and some sort of Wall of Shame that would never get me past his spam filters again.
At any rate, I've been resting and talking and reading and trying to work through the fallout that inevitably happens when you try to go home again. In one sense, what I did was so easy. I flew on a plane to my mom's house, cleaned it up, packed much, donated more, and drove home.
In another sense, it couldn't have been harder. I flew to the house where my mom suffered and died, slept in the same room where nurses and aids and family and friends cared for her in her last weeks, sat in the same chair I'd sat in months earlier while stroking her still-warm body, only seconds after she'd left it behind on her journey. I relived every moment of our trip in December '08 and again in April/May '09, discovering priceless information about this very complex and very convoluted family that would throw me into a deep and sudden awe and compassion upon finding one treasure, anger and betrayal at the next discovery.
But that's what family is for, is it not? To leave future generations with enough burning questions and obsessions that neither genealogy researchers nor therapists will ever have to worry about job security.
In my family, in that house, with those memories, I'm still confused. Information I discovered that had never been shared with me before, information that made me see my parents with part-awe and part betrayal, not knowing in that moment if I loved them or hated them, but only knowing I couldn't walk away.
My brother and I, who could barely be trusted to be left alone when we were kids, lest one of us injure the other seriously enough to require medical attention, went through 65 years of collected possessions, including possessions my mom had inherited from her mom and dad and from her mother-in-law. We opened every box, unwrapped every piece cushioned by well-worn newspaper or paper towel. It was a life autopsy of possessions and we, the examiners, separated and examined and weighed and tested every piece.
Numerous times, most notably when I was eyeing the growing stack of boxes for me to take back home and then visualizing the interior of a minivan and trying to figure out how it would all fit, I would wonder why I had come to do this in the first place.
Why?
It seems instantly an easy enough answer. I wanted some remnants of my childhood, as did my brother. I wanted some mementos of my parents, ones that focused on the happy times. I didn't want my brother to have to do this all by himself. And I wanted to get the place cleaned out so it could be rented. Another family, new life, new dreams. I think Mom would have liked that.
But was that really it? Digging through boxes and papers and clothing and endless amounts of plastic utensils and wet wipes and matches, the detritus of a life lived and loved and suffered and lost, what did I really find?
I found that family is a need, not a noun. Family could have been brutal and unforgiving, it could have meant growing up battered in mind, body, and spirit, and it also could have been children's laughter on the swingset, a surprise trip to the zoo to put the blue elephant key in the box and hear the narrator tell you about what animal you're viewing. Family is the need to always display some photographs and never others, never quite explaining if the hidden ones are being sequestered away to be forgotten or in need of more precious protection than hanging openly on a wall.
Family is a beginning and often, an end. Family is where we came from, that lifeline to who we were and how we came to be this way. Family is our excuse, our answered prayer, our legacy, our mark on the world. We love it and hate it, run to it and rebel from it.
Spending one week immersed in this family, in these memories, in this house, I was nearly ready to walk away. But I didn't, and now I'm home in the midst of these memory-filled items, not sure whether to mourn or rejoice, whether to use these objects as jumping-off points for discussions about the great-great-grands and how their lives were similar or different, or whether to pack them away until I can look at them without feeling such a hollow sense of loss.
I sorted and cleaned my way through a person's life, learning as I went, and found a woman I hadn't completely gotten to know, and now never will. Then I spent a week trying to return to my family, my mind ever on the challenges of the road I was taking. And then when I got home, I buried myself in a collection of political thrillers, looking, as the characters are, for order within chaos, duty within impossible moral choices, fleeing a past that may never be gone, and in fact parts of which are sitting in my living room.
I went for family, I stayed for family. And yet I feel like I'm leaving with a different sense of family. Gone is the omnipotence; what remains behind is the shattered life that found comfort in collections. And after picking up the pieces, I moved toward a family that I want simply to be honest and decent and caring.
You can't go home again, but you can define home and family for yourself and build it, out of the tools you inherited from your family, or the creative adaptations you learned because the only tools left to you were so morally broken they weren't worth using.
I did it for family. Which one--then or now? Neither, actually. I did it for what family means to my heart and soul, where family means the most.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Friday, January 29, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Inexplicably happy to be back in the Midwest
Once again, one year and about two months later, I rolled into Lincoln, Nebraska, at sunset, while listening to David Broza. Honestly, I do have more than David Broza on my iPod. Can I say again (one year and two months later) that there is just something right about arriving in Lincoln at sunset listening to David Broza? I know... I have some truly weird associations.
So here I am, not far from the Nebraska State Penitentiary, feeling oh so safe. Had a small dinner in a little hole-in-the-wall diner with a tiny menu and excellent service. And free wi-fi, which I never would have figured.
I am so ready to be home. I miss my kids, my husband, my bed. Not necessarily in that order.
The drive tomorrow should be pretty good. All the storms are south in Oklahoma. It'll just be cold, but not that much colder than it is here. Most of the day today, temps have been about 14-18°F. Locals have complained about the cold but expressed gratitude that there wasn't a 40mph wind to accompany the temps. I concur. A 40mph wind would make driving ickier.
Home is 435 miles away, about the same drive as today. Here's hoping the roads are clear of ice and snow! If I get on the road tomorrow as early as I did today, I'll make it home before Shabbat begins.
Nothing much to report in terms of photos today. I am inexplicably happy to be back in the Midwest. Some would call the scenery boring compared to the mountains I've been through, but in the winter, I'll take my "boring" farm fields and Midwest towns any day over windy and icy mountain passes.
Looking forward to being home!
So here I am, not far from the Nebraska State Penitentiary, feeling oh so safe. Had a small dinner in a little hole-in-the-wall diner with a tiny menu and excellent service. And free wi-fi, which I never would have figured.
I am so ready to be home. I miss my kids, my husband, my bed. Not necessarily in that order.
The drive tomorrow should be pretty good. All the storms are south in Oklahoma. It'll just be cold, but not that much colder than it is here. Most of the day today, temps have been about 14-18°F. Locals have complained about the cold but expressed gratitude that there wasn't a 40mph wind to accompany the temps. I concur. A 40mph wind would make driving ickier.
Home is 435 miles away, about the same drive as today. Here's hoping the roads are clear of ice and snow! If I get on the road tomorrow as early as I did today, I'll make it home before Shabbat begins.
Nothing much to report in terms of photos today. I am inexplicably happy to be back in the Midwest. Some would call the scenery boring compared to the mountains I've been through, but in the winter, I'll take my "boring" farm fields and Midwest towns any day over windy and icy mountain passes.
Looking forward to being home!
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
The suite life
Wyoming was windy today! Here are today's pics.
This is the motorized monstrosity I'm driving. I'm actually used to it now. I kinda like it!
Utah was snowy and, going through the Wasatch Mountains, the windshield washer sprayer thingies got clogged with slush and road grime. Check out the gunk on the windshield:
I hung out behind a few trucks, letting them kick up moisture onto my windshield so I could wipe occasionally, until I was able to find a gas station. And lucky me, there was a car wash there, too, and the warm water cleaned out the wiper sprayers. My gloves got wet, but the Suburban, like my van, comes with a built-in glove dryer:
In western Wyoming, I saw that same rock formation that the boys and I took photos of in December '08:
And I saw some really scary weather. Fortunately, I didn't drive into this snowstorm:
And Wyoming has some pretty scenery. Sunset, coming into Laramie.
Finally, I'm here in Cheyenne. In a suite, no less! I use hotels.com to book my hotels and this hotel was having a winter special, meaning that it cost less to get a suite than it would have to stay anywhere else, even a Super 8 motel!
Tomorrow, it's across Nebraska to Lincoln, a distance of 442 miles. The weather should be good, and yay, no mountains! Only two more driving days left before I'm home!
This is the motorized monstrosity I'm driving. I'm actually used to it now. I kinda like it!
I hung out behind a few trucks, letting them kick up moisture onto my windshield so I could wipe occasionally, until I was able to find a gas station. And lucky me, there was a car wash there, too, and the warm water cleaned out the wiper sprayers. My gloves got wet, but the Suburban, like my van, comes with a built-in glove dryer:
In western Wyoming, I saw that same rock formation that the boys and I took photos of in December '08:
And I saw some really scary weather. Fortunately, I didn't drive into this snowstorm:
And Wyoming has some pretty scenery. Sunset, coming into Laramie.
Finally, I'm here in Cheyenne. In a suite, no less! I use hotels.com to book my hotels and this hotel was having a winter special, meaning that it cost less to get a suite than it would have to stay anywhere else, even a Super 8 motel!
Tomorrow, it's across Nebraska to Lincoln, a distance of 442 miles. The weather should be good, and yay, no mountains! Only two more driving days left before I'm home!
Monday, January 25, 2010
On a road to nowhere...
I'm totally ready for bed here in Salt Lake City. Tomorrow, I'm off to Cheyenne, Wyoming, a driving distance of 442 miles (72 miles fewer than today's trip). I did leave Reno at about 8:30am today, but once you figure in breaks to stretch and eat and take care of more personal matters, it wound up being nearly a 10-hour drive.
Northern Utah is expecting a rain/snow mix during the morning commute, and likely snow in the mountains between Salt Lake City and Wyoming. Yay.
The snow in Nevada was pretty, but the monochromatic view was also hypnotic (hence the need for more frequent breaks).
Northern Utah is expecting a rain/snow mix during the morning commute, and likely snow in the mountains between Salt Lake City and Wyoming. Yay.
The snow in Nevada was pretty, but the monochromatic view was also hypnotic (hence the need for more frequent breaks).
Also, it seemed at times that the road went on forever.
Okay, I'm gonna get to bed so I can get up early, have a quick breakfast at the hotel restaurant, and get on the road before the snow gets too bad. Once I get past Evanston WY, I'll at least be out of the mountains and then I can deal with wind. :-) But with the Suburban packed tighter than a can of sardines on steroids, I shouldn't blow away. I really miss MN, cold and snow and all!
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Here she co-o-o-o-o-omes... (with apologies to the Everly Brothers)
Any guesses as to the song alluded to in the title? Five points if you're over 50; ten bonus points if you're under 30. (Is there anyone under 30 reading this blog?)
And there's a new poll up, just for fun!
I'm safe and sound in Reno at the Circus Circus, a hotel I fondly remember visiting with my parents when I was 12 and played games for stuffed animals on the midway. That was nearly 30 years ago, and I was tempted to go check out the midway tonight for old time's sake. But I resisted and went shopping instead. Sometimes it's fun to be an adult.
The drive over the Sierras was not nearly as traumatic as the drive out to CA in December 2008. It helped that it was daytime. And I was in a 4-wheel drive.
And special thanks go to the friendly Chain Installer (that's what his bright yellow coat said) at the last chain installation area before Donner Summit. He informed me that you need both 4-wheel drive and snow tires to be exempt from chains when chains are required. Then he looked at my tires, said, "Yep, they say M + S. You're legal." Got it now... M + S = mud & snow. Next time I change tires on the van, I know what to look for.
It was kind of snowy at the summit.
who was, in turn, enjoying her new espresso machine.
And there's a new poll up, just for fun!
I'm safe and sound in Reno at the Circus Circus, a hotel I fondly remember visiting with my parents when I was 12 and played games for stuffed animals on the midway. That was nearly 30 years ago, and I was tempted to go check out the midway tonight for old time's sake. But I resisted and went shopping instead. Sometimes it's fun to be an adult.
The drive over the Sierras was not nearly as traumatic as the drive out to CA in December 2008. It helped that it was daytime. And I was in a 4-wheel drive.
And special thanks go to the friendly Chain Installer (that's what his bright yellow coat said) at the last chain installation area before Donner Summit. He informed me that you need both 4-wheel drive and snow tires to be exempt from chains when chains are required. Then he looked at my tires, said, "Yep, they say M + S. You're legal." Got it now... M + S = mud & snow. Next time I change tires on the van, I know what to look for.
It was kind of snowy at the summit.
It was also very cool (and a little awe-inspiring) to drive over Donner Summit after Yoni did his (first ever) research report on the Donner Party and what they endured when trying to make it from Independence, MO to Sutter's Fort, CA.
Many thanks again to my mother-in-law for some extraordinary stew (I wish I could have brought some home) and her hospitality. Next time we visit, it will be 1) sooner, and 2) for pleasure. Enough of this death business.
And although I was not able to visit everyone I wanted to visit (horrible traffic from Santa Cruz all the way to Sacramento), and I feel badly about that (I'm sorry, Julie!), I did get to enjoy a brief homemade espresso from Lyn:
who was, in turn, enjoying her new espresso machine.
Tomorrow, it's across Nevada and the Salt Lake Desert with an overnight (G-d willing) in Salt Lake City, UT. And this time, I know that I have both 4-wheel drive and snow tires! The forecast is for rain and snow, and currently snow tires or chains are required for about 60 miles west of Imlay (sounds like Pig Latin, oesn'tday itlay?).
The trip to SLC is 514 miles, or a little over 8 hours of driving, according to Tom, the trusty GPS. If I leave Reno by 9am, I can be in SLC before dark. Let's see if I can do it!
Heading Home
Today is the day to head over the Sierras. I would rather stay here with my mother-in-law and her delicious stew (YUM!) but I miss my husband and kids something fierce. I just checked the weather and road conditions and both indicate a rainy, possibily lightly snowy ride over the mountains. Still far better than driving with chains through a blizzard at night!
Planning to stay in Reno/Sparks tonight. Maybe a long hot soak in a tub. Ahhh...
Props to Lyn in Fremont who makes a steaming good cup of espresso with her new machine! Thanks for the coffee and the visit! I promise to only post the embarrassing photos. ;-)
More to come (including photos) when I am on my own computer, hopefully tonight in Reno after a pleasant drive and a nice hot bath.
Until then, onward and upward!
Planning to stay in Reno/Sparks tonight. Maybe a long hot soak in a tub. Ahhh...
Props to Lyn in Fremont who makes a steaming good cup of espresso with her new machine! Thanks for the coffee and the visit! I promise to only post the embarrassing photos. ;-)
More to come (including photos) when I am on my own computer, hopefully tonight in Reno after a pleasant drive and a nice hot bath.
Until then, onward and upward!
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
From sorting to packing
Thanks to my brother, I have good dial-up Internet access! Yay, Brother!
I am so tired. My brother and I have been working 12-15 hours a day for the past three days, sorting through 65 years of accumulated personal belongings, deciding who is going home with what, and packing it up. As we move into the wee hours of Tuesday morning, we've gone through all but five boxes from a closet. Brother is going back to work tomorrow (today?) and I'm packing and cleaning so we can empty the house and get it ready to rent.
May I be so bold as to suggest to all of you that you not try to sort through 65 years of accumulated personal possessions from a close and recently deceased relative in three days? Clearly there are times when it's necessary, but it is not remotely easy.
On the other hand, I am so proud of my brother (and me too). There have been no arguments, no squabbles over "stuff." We both want to honor Mom's and Dad's memories and we have very different tastes (which helps) and we both want to make this as easy as possible. I know families where it has come to physical violence over who gets what. I am so grateful that I don't have to live that!
The plan for returning to MN remains the same: I'll pick up a rented minivan on Friday, pack it with my brother's help on Friday evening, and leave sometime Saturday morning. Saturday night will be spent with Purple Grandma (my mother-in-law) and then Sunday, weather permitting, it's over the Sierras and into Nevada.
Until the next time I'm able to get online... be safe and warm.
I am so tired. My brother and I have been working 12-15 hours a day for the past three days, sorting through 65 years of accumulated personal belongings, deciding who is going home with what, and packing it up. As we move into the wee hours of Tuesday morning, we've gone through all but five boxes from a closet. Brother is going back to work tomorrow (today?) and I'm packing and cleaning so we can empty the house and get it ready to rent.
May I be so bold as to suggest to all of you that you not try to sort through 65 years of accumulated personal possessions from a close and recently deceased relative in three days? Clearly there are times when it's necessary, but it is not remotely easy.
On the other hand, I am so proud of my brother (and me too). There have been no arguments, no squabbles over "stuff." We both want to honor Mom's and Dad's memories and we have very different tastes (which helps) and we both want to make this as easy as possible. I know families where it has come to physical violence over who gets what. I am so grateful that I don't have to live that!
The plan for returning to MN remains the same: I'll pick up a rented minivan on Friday, pack it with my brother's help on Friday evening, and leave sometime Saturday morning. Saturday night will be spent with Purple Grandma (my mother-in-law) and then Sunday, weather permitting, it's over the Sierras and into Nevada.
Until the next time I'm able to get online... be safe and warm.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Safely in CA
I made it safely to CA late last night. Flights were great and I had a nice dinner with my brother. I'll have to write more when I have a better connection. All's good so far.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Back to CA...
So, I'm doing it. Again.
It's been just over a year since I made the insane decision to take the boys (then 7 and 5) and drive from MN to CA, spend a little over a week with my mom (aleha hashalom) while she still had strength, and drive back home. In December. In the snow. Uphill. Both ways. Really.
The trip went well (you can read about it below if you haven't yet, or if you don't remember what happened), and we made it back home safely. It was, as it turns out, the right decision, as my Mom's strength declined shortly after our trip. She had been diagnosed with Stage IV pancreatic cancer just before Thanksgiving and she passed away on Mother's Day 2009. She was 65.
Now it's finally time for my brother and me to go through the house and all of Mom & Dad's possessions (Dad passed away in 2004). The paper cup full of twist ties should be easy to deal with, but as with any death of someone you're close to, it's the personal items that are the hardest. Despite every effort to think of it all as "stuff" -- things we can't take with us when we go -- just imagining going through the items I know are there is stressful. I imagine my brother and I will be going through a lot of tissues.
I'm flying out in six days, on January 15, 2010. Husby and the boys will stay home. Husby will look for work (he lost his job last week; anyone looking for an awesome computer network/security guy in the Twin Cities?) and the boys will go to school, and they'll all entertain the pets.
Coming back, however, I'm going to drive. Yep. Rent a minivan, pack it up with whatever of Mom & Dad's stuff I'm bringing home (not the cup of twist ties), and drive roughly 2073 miles from CA to MN, uphill, through the snow. Alone.
I'm seriously questioning my sanity. Again.
It's been just over a year since I made the insane decision to take the boys (then 7 and 5) and drive from MN to CA, spend a little over a week with my mom (aleha hashalom) while she still had strength, and drive back home. In December. In the snow. Uphill. Both ways. Really.
The trip went well (you can read about it below if you haven't yet, or if you don't remember what happened), and we made it back home safely. It was, as it turns out, the right decision, as my Mom's strength declined shortly after our trip. She had been diagnosed with Stage IV pancreatic cancer just before Thanksgiving and she passed away on Mother's Day 2009. She was 65.
Now it's finally time for my brother and me to go through the house and all of Mom & Dad's possessions (Dad passed away in 2004). The paper cup full of twist ties should be easy to deal with, but as with any death of someone you're close to, it's the personal items that are the hardest. Despite every effort to think of it all as "stuff" -- things we can't take with us when we go -- just imagining going through the items I know are there is stressful. I imagine my brother and I will be going through a lot of tissues.
I'm flying out in six days, on January 15, 2010. Husby and the boys will stay home. Husby will look for work (he lost his job last week; anyone looking for an awesome computer network/security guy in the Twin Cities?) and the boys will go to school, and they'll all entertain the pets.
Coming back, however, I'm going to drive. Yep. Rent a minivan, pack it up with whatever of Mom & Dad's stuff I'm bringing home (not the cup of twist ties), and drive roughly 2073 miles from CA to MN, uphill, through the snow. Alone.
I'm seriously questioning my sanity. Again.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)