Dad's 90th birthday

Miriam asked about the party—it actually went really well, smooth, hardly a hitch. I love this photo of Mom & Dad, afterward, looking through the giant mylar balloons that "spell" my Dad's age. (Yup, they can be a lot of fun sometimes.)

A lot of Dad's friends gave wonderful speeches, and as it worked out, there were a few from all different eras of his life—from folks who met Dad in the late 1930s, to someone who just met him two years ago. There were people from different countries and continents, and some friends sang a song they'd written many years ago during their work together.... It was a reminder of all the best things about him & about growing up with them....

I spoke too, talked about how grateful I am for how he encouraged my curiosity and fascination with everything in the world, and how important that has been to who I am and who I want to be... I described how many kids I meet who have had curiosity and fascination beaten out of them by parents who tell them "stop asking so many questions!". Another longtime friend of the folks also described her memories of how, whenever I had a question about anything, Dad always stopped whatever he was doing, and, starting at the very beginning, answered the WHOLE question. My Mom followed this up with a story about how, when I was four, she had jury duty, and when I asked my Dad what "jury duty" was, he answered—starting with the Magna Carta.

Loopy also spoke, actually just about the most moving speech that was given; later on the phone, my Mom told a friend, "[Loopy] reduced everyone to tears.....in a good way of course!" Loopy talked about Dad's big heart and his great sense of humor...two things that remain intact in spite of everything.

Incidentally I put a whole buncha new pix on Flickr tonight, some from this trip and some from last spring, so check 'em out if you're bored/procrastinating (of course you're bored/procrastinating; why else would you be reading this?)

There are two reasons why being w my Mom is sad.

One, in Loopy's words, "Of course you're sad. Your mother is rejecting you over and over."

It's sort of indirect. She's just so colossally self-absorbed that she repeatedly does things and says things that indicate her strong opinion that her thoughts, feelings, etc. are the only ones that are interesting, important, etc.

Mostly when you meet someone like this, it's just irritating, and you might find them a bit pathetic. But for some reason (biological or sociological I don't know), most people seem to have an expectation/hope/belief that one's parents will find one's thoughts, feelings, etc. to be interesting, important, etc. So the continual reminder that they are absolutely not, is sad.

You would think (or I would think) that after 34 years I would be used to this. Apparently not.
:-/

Two, recently I have been seeing/realizing all the ways that I am like my mother—ways that I am selfish, self-absorbed, irresponsible, etc.

(Reason #37 why I am mad at my former therapist: I would say, "I'm afraid I'm like my mom," and the therapist would say, "No, you're not like your mom." Well, how the hell did she know whether I was or not? Plus, what use is it to just shut down that train of thought instead of finding out what there was to learn from it?

But I digress).

Anyway, seeing how I'm like her is very painful. But Buddhism, Al-anon and everything else that I'm turning to in my search for Answers, tells me that honesty is a very important part of, well, everything. So I have to be honest about How I Am, even though at the same time I am trying to learn to accept myself and be kinder and more gentle to myself.

At best, I can look at her and feel compassion for her, in her own way fighting the universal struggle to get away from pain and sadness, and then feel compassion for myself for using the same un-helpful techniques to try to achieve the same unachievable goal.

But at worst I just see (and feel) how much pain she causes everyone, and realize that I am the same, I am causing pain to people and blinding myself to it with self-pity, self-absorption, dissociation, etc. etc.

Like right now. Right at this minute I am being.... well, I'll just stop it.

halfway point

"So, Loopy, what do you miss most?" I asked, as we sat through the titles for "Sex & the City" that we usually skip over. "The satellite TV with the pause button & commercial skipping? Or the dogs? Or the house? Or not having to see Mom & Dad every day? Wait, scratch that last one, that's too easy."

"You know what I miss most," said Loopy, picking irritably at the sock she's knitting. "The Ott light next to my bed. There is no fucking light in this hotel room, there's no light in Mom & Dad's apartment—I've been knitting in the dark for a week."

I just thought all you knitters would really appreciate that one.

Me, I really miss the dogs.

ah, Dad....

Dad has forgotten all about tofu and Christmas crackers—asks what they are, says he's never seen anything like that before. He's also forgotten Darth Vader and Narnia. When I get old, I wonder what I'll forget and remember.

Also, he recently introduced Loopy as....my husband! Of course, that's probably the clearest introduction he's managed since we got together....he never did know what to call her.

One time on the phone he said, "How is that husb—er—that—that—monkey of yours?" So at least he didn't introduce her as my monkey.

Tomorrow is his 90th birthday & at the last minute (two weeks ago) Mom decided to throw an enormous party. Much ado. But I think it's going to be fun. Speeches, a slide show, balloons, all kinds of stuff. Fingers crossed......

at the movies

Dad: I didn't think Narnia would be a terror movie.

Mom: That wasn't Narnia, that was Harry Potter.

Dad: What?

Mom: The movie we just saw—it was Harry Potter.

Dad: Oh, right, right.... Well, I didn't think Harry Potter would be a terror movie.

Mom: Yes, it was very bloody, wasn't it? That's why I didn't want to see Harry Potter. My favorite movies are things like Chicken Little, Walter and Grommit,* Skrek I and Skrek II*—that kind of thing.

---

*[sic]

merry christmas!

Just saw this on TV....hee hee

can't fight this feeling anymore

That awful REO Speedwagon song kept playing in my head during the 24 hours it took us to get from our house in Wisconsin to our hotel in Arizona. Yes, 24 hours.

I'm not sure why that song, particularly, but maybe it had something to do with the fact that, during the flight to Minneapolis, Loopy couldn't fight the feeling anymore that she was getting another UTI... :-(

So we went to the ER in Minneapolis (well, St. Paul actually) and after five hours in the hospital and six more in the damn airport, we ended up on a flight almost exactly twelve hours later than our intended flight.

As if that weren't bad enough, Loopy also had a terrible terrible cold, so when we were landing her ears wouldn't pop and she had those awful, awful headaches that result from that situation.

So she spent he first couple days here holed up in the hotel room drinking unsweetened cranberry juice by the gallon (ugh!), taking antibiotics and decongestants, trying to get her ears to pop and watching endless reruns of "the Waltons" alternating with "Little House on the Prairie" on the Hallmark Channel. And knitting, of course. (Since she hasn't posted I'll add, for you knitters, that she finally finished that deadly boring cable sweater and started on a sock with the lovely koigu she bought in NYC.)

Poor Loopy. Some Christmas this is turning out to be for her. She's so brave, my sweetie. What would I do without her?