Musing

Time flies!  Perhaps more than my wife, I have always been aware of that.  She would get frustrated when the kids were little and there were so many sleepless nights/diapers/snowsuits/  I would always say "it is only for a season."

In reality i should have just been quiet while I was helping!  She was frustrated and didn't get what I meant. It wasn't the right time to share that.   But now, suddenly it is hitting her.  The little guy in the picture above will join a Coming of Age program in our church.  He is on his way to being a young man.

Rob is in his second year of college.  There will not be too many more years with him living here, and Miss Lissa at 9 is all ready fiercely independent and ready to take on the world in so many creative and exciting ways.

I know that things that have been the same for us for many many years, are due to change soon.  The way holidays get celebrated, the times all of us are able to be together. Even who is home for supper.  These changes make me melancholy.  I know the wheel turns and it is right that it do so.  But I miss those baby fingers curled around mine.

On the other hand, the changes also have heralded the advent of occasional (and likely ever increasing) adult time for my wife and I.  It is easy to lose relationships in Parent Land.  And the times that we nearly did lose it, I know it was my fault.  My circle of friends is really large, but they are mostly also parents of other kids.  My wife craves time sans children, and has a circle of friends who either never had kids or whose children have flown the nest. I have less in common with them, though I do like them all.   It has made things challenging for a few years but as the wheel turns and the kids become more independent there have been more walks with just she and I. More nights by the fire pit with a glass of wine.  Occasional lunches out for just us.

These are good and the balance--the yin to the yang of the nest slowly emptying. Rediscovering, reimagining our relationship for the years to come and watching the kids set sail on their own journeys will be a new adventure.

Semester Break

Despite it being post holiday, things have been busy at Casa Johnson Erikson.  I have been enjoying semester break.  Yes, I know I am not the one in college. But my chauffeur duties are lighter when the college teen is on break.  He has been working some heavy hours at the restaurant down town, including New Years Eve.

He texted me on that night that he would not be coming home and would be staying the night with his new friend C.  C gives him rides home from work on occasion but I have not met him, don't know his last name or where he lives.  I had a bit of a war with myself on this.  On one hand, Rob is 19. He is not a minor. On the other hand, he is not independent as I was at 19.  And the world is a lot scarier than it was when I was 19. (although self eye roll here; don't parents ALWAYS say that?) At any rate, I said no.  That when we make plans we don't spring them last minute and I would expect him back home after the staff party that happened when the restaurant closed up.  He was fine when he came home and didn't seem angry at all about the minor flexing of parental muscle.  I don't say know unless I really think I should so I think there is overall less drama when I do.  I also think it is possible that he would rather have me say no to a new friends idea than do it himself.  C is a bit older than him and this makes me the "un-cool" one, not Rob.

Lissa has been busy as well. She and KC stayed up with me for New Years Eve.  New Years Day we went to a friends house for lunch and she was subsequently invited to spend the night.  While I know she was very tired, it wasn't an instance where I had to say no.  She stayed the night, went to an indoor trampoline park the next day and got home about 4:30 last night. She was exhausted but went to bed at 6:30 and slept till nearly 8:00.  It's all good!

KC was ill over New Years so although he saw the New Year in, he was pretty low key.  He is better today though and spending the afternoon with a friend from church.

I have had a bit of time for myself as well.  I have been able to squeeze in 3 zumba classes because various kid activities--dance, scouts, college--have been on winter break.  I love it and it has been so much fun.  I also try to make sure I get walks in each weekend when I can walk in daylight.  Since our snow and ice storm the sidewalks are not clear and I don't walk in the early mornings. So it has been a mix of busy, but also fun, and I am enjoying that!

The road less travelled

As an adoptive parent I have ALWAYS tried to make sure my kids know that they can come to me anytime. And ask about anything.  They can ask about their first families. They can ask about how they came home. They can ask about why adoption exists.Whatever.   I may squirm inside from time to time, but these conversations are important and a huge part of our family tapestry.

Several months ago, Fiona asked me about her birth father. Unfortunately I had not info at all on him--not even his name is present on her original birth certificate.  I said she would have to ask Mom J for information on that and that I would help her with that conversation if she felt that she needed it.

She thought about it (for a loooong time, like several months) and then decided she would like to talk to her first mom about him.  She wanted to know simple things.  His name.  What he liked to do with her.  What he contributed to her racial and ethnic identity.

I got in contact with J and explained what Fiona wanted and asked if she would be okay with having this conversation.  Alternatively, she could write a letter or message us via social media.  She wrote back that she would be fine with answering any of my daughter's questions and would tell my son Rob anything he wanted to know as well.

As luck would have it, Fi was home that weekend and we made the call.  J and I talked a bit and then she and Fiona talked. Fi got her questions answered and I think this was another step in something I can only describe as emotional completeness.

Adoption leaves these blank spots.  Relationships lost or misunderstood.  People forgotten.  Stories that make sense of our connections are not told. For Fiona, filling those blank spaces is crucial to her healing.  On the other hand, at this point Rob wants nothing to do with Mom J.  I told him about the call and what J had said.  He made sure he was not available when we made the call.  When the call was over, he immediately resurfaced and joined in our activities cheerfully. Rob has strong connections with other first family members, siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles.  He just can't figure out yet what his relationship is--if there IS a relationship--with J.  He also is a bit put off by the fact that she and I are friends.

It is hard to explain to Fiona that he needs to walk his own path and that there will probably come a time when he is ready for this, but that it is not now.  And that while I support her journey, I also support his.  Fiona's cognitive delays make it hard for her to see why this is okay.  I wound up falling back on "he's your little brother; remember you are the BIG sister and so you are ready for this before him."  Which is not really the why of it but if it makes things okay, I'll run with it.

Ironically, Fi shares more of this journey with KC who has always wanted to know as much as possible about Mom Y.  Last night he came downstairs and said he wanted to know why she gave him up for adoption. He'd been thinking about it he said, and he didn't know how to ask.  The words came out in a blur, rapidfire, and his eyes were huge.  That conversation started with a hug and I could feel him lean into me hard.  We talked about how people don't always have good supports in their life to help them and that his mom lived with her parents--how space and money concerns can make for hard choices. It was enough for now.  I have grown adept at reading the "full up" signals in my kids--when the conversation has gone far enough for now.  But I remain ready to talk again when the need arises.

The "All Lives Matter" debate

I am still amazed by how quickly the words "black lives matter" seem to make situations so charged so quickly.  Inevitably someone jumps in and says "ALL lives matter," like the phrase is saying that they don't.

Inevitably, they are white people who say this.  Inevitably, things get hot.  I am white, but I am outraged by the way white privilege is so entrenched that people are flat out unable and unwilling to see what we are trying to say.

We are not saying that other lives don't matter. We are saying that the circumstances and culture of our society  does not value black lives.  That our strong black men are at risk.  That our young black children playing in parks are not safe.  That our black daughters and sisters are dying when they are stopped for traffic violations.  Is that likely to happen to me?  A middle aged white woman?  Nope.  Because I have white privilege.  Whether I want it. Whether I acknowledge its existence.  It is there.  And I reap the benefits in my day to day life.

I wait up when my son is at work.  Sometimes he walks the quarter mile from the restaurant where he is employed.  It is late when the oyster bar closes.  He is a strong handsome black man walking through town in the dark, after midnight.  You bet I wait up.

I made sure every water pistol or air soft gun in our house is fluorescent yellow green or orange. In no way can they even remotely look real or I throw them out.  Would I do that if my kids were white like me?  I don't know for sure, but I doubt it.

I worry that my teen will do something silly with his friends--some of whom are white--and that they will run off and leave him in a situation where he is more at risk than they are. Teens sometimes do stupid things. I was a teen and I did too.  But I didn't die because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

2015 was filled with so many profound examples of how racism and white privilege are very alive and well in our country.  It is my hope and prayer that 2016 brings opportunities for change.  I hope it begins with my white friends accepting white privilege and using it for change.  Instead of railing that it doesn't exist, lets use our voices. Let us speak out with our black friends, neighbors and family and work together for safety, for equality, and for the sanctity of life.

Christmas 2015

It has been a wonderful holiday thus far.  Filled with warmth and laughter, presents anticipated and those that surprise.  Yummy food, lovely music and memories to hold close. This year more than ever, I am aware that we stand poised to have very different Christmasses in the not so distant future.  

This year found us driving to Maine due to my mom's health.  In recent years she has driven down to spend Christmas with us.  Her cardiac issues made her feel unable to handle the not insignificant trek from Maine to Massachusetts.  We drove up yesterday and had a wonderful gathering. She and G were truly thrilled by the carefully chosen presents, by the love our tribe showered on them and these feelings were very much reciprocated.

Today found a day of fun here as well. Unseasonable warmth meant that mid day my wife and I took a walk and we were talking about the day.  In the next few years much will change.  Our Rob will likely move to another area, or be in a career where he can't be home for Christmas.  He hopes to work on a cruise ship so who knows how many more Christmasses we will be lucky to share with him.

My mom was more obviously "old" when we visited this time.  My mom has been sort of ageless. She worked for a loooong time as a teachers aide in the schools in Maine.  She is very active in her church and the Guild that they have. But I could see that her strength is not what it was 6 months ago.  She sometimes has to use the chair lift to get to her second floor apartment.  She is not doing badly; she is aging.  It was a reminder that I don't know how many Christmasses we have with her either.

The littles are not so little now, but thankfully there are still a lot of Yule tide celebrations with them.  Chet remains perpetually youthful,enjoying all that there is to do at this time of the year.  But I am not so ready to give up the crazy early a.m. wakeups on Christmas morning. Or the setting out of carrots and cookies on Christmas Eve.  Nor am I ready to give up my mother.  

Christmas is beautiful and wonderful but it is a time of the year that is so highly emotionally charged as well.  Fiona was not with us this year as she had a chance to spend Christmas with her Cousin N.  She arrives tomorrow and will celebrate with us a day later.  I missed her being here, but I am glad for her.  It is important that she be involved with all her family and that she always see that I support and encourage this.  N put extensions in her hair for her today and sent me pictures. They are beautiful and she did an awesome job.  The gift is a joint one from N and I.  I bought the hair and N did the installation for free as her part of the gift.  It is a perfect example of blending our families; the fact that we could work together to make something special happen for Fi is so important to me.

So now I will curl up with a book to the sound of Christmas revelry and games in our front hall and thank the goddess for a holiday of beautiful memories to carry forward.

Ready for Solstice

It is nearly Solstice.  That time when the day is shortest and the night is longest. . . that tipping point after which we know that incrementally, we are regaining bits of that precious light. Seconds to be sure, but we will regain light.

This season has been a busy one full of so many ways to celebrate.  And i have loved every bit of it.  I decided this year  that I was not going to try to pare back activities unless the kids seemed to need it. I was used to being rather minimalist in my choice of activities when Chet was young. But aside from making sure that we made sure they get adequate rest, the youngers (can't quite say littles any more) can handle a wider array of experiences than Chet can.

So we saw the Nutcracker--a local performance that a friend of ours was in. We listened to holiday music performed by local school kids.  There have been trips to see lights. There have been multiple Christmas parties at the dance school as well as Lissa's birthday celebrations. Special foods, special TV programs, and lots of special books have been shared.  We have made our family mural, made gingerbread houses and the house sparkles with an abundance of decorations. (that I most sincerely hope conceal the lack of deep cleaning during the month of December!) The tree lights twinkle and my favorite holiday plates are our regular every day plates during this month.  It is SO much fun!

But winter is also about stillness. It is about that pause, when the earth rests.  And Solstice reminds me to take that pause.  The picture above is our kitchen altar.  Our family altar is in the kitchen over the sink very intentionally.  I believe that the kitchen is the heart of our home. It is the place where we start each day and where we end it each evening. Over the month I have been gradually changing up the altar to reflect the coming of winter. Back right is a ceramic of a wolf that KC made several years ago at pottery camp.  In front of that is a spectacular speciman of mica that used to be my grandmothers.  There are rocks, that remind me that winter is hard and a tiny candle to remind me that the light returns.  A lovely long piece of birch bark rests across the back of the altar.  Birch is my favorite wood for starting a hot blaze quickly so it is symbolic of the fire of life for me on our altar. And there  snow people because they make me smile.

Sometimes the pause in my life is only the period of time that it takes to wash the dishes.  But the altar keeps me centered and more peaceful.  Blessed be.

Christmas Eve with my mom

Heart disease runs strongly on both sides of my family tree.    Both of my grandfathers died of massive coronaries.  My mom and my dad and my sister have all had high cholesterol since forever.  It is the primary reason I became a vegetarian over 25 years ago.

About a month ago, my mom had what was later found to be a heart attack.  There has been testing on going since then and the final decision is that there is a clot but the location of the clot is in a vein that is so small that a stint would likely do more damage than help. It is being treated with medication and she is very upbeat about this.

However, this  active woman has been experiencing shortness of breath, and has to occasionally use the chair lift to get up the stairs to her apartment.  For the first time in years, she felt unable to make the drive down to spend Christmas with us.

We will bring Christmas to her, and to her friend G on Christmas Eve day.  The kids are excited to be travelling up to see her ..  I am too.  I am mindful that this heart attack was a reminder that time is fast and fleeting and that someday there will be Christmasses when we are farther apart that a drive can solve.

However I am not dwelling on that.  Life is also for living and I am of the opinion that if I waste the time we have worrying about when I won't have her, it is like losing my mom now.  And since once of my kids is anxiety prone,I have always tried to teach him to live in the moment and that is what we will do.  We will laugh, and joke and admire gifts and make memories.  Because good memories are what can help us when there are darker times