Family – Redefined

My father used to quote Proverbs 18:24 – A man that hath friends must shew himself friendly: and there is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother. (King James Version).  He usually did this, however, in conjunction with preparation for the annual summer youth choir tour, emphasizing the first phrase in his humorous attempt at giving a biblical foundation as to why we should make sure to use deodorant and bathe regularly while traveling.  I will confess that I found it funny as a 14-16 year old.

My preoccupation with this scripture has reawakened in my early fifties, and it has become the second phrase that captures my attention these days. Reexamine it in a couple of more modern translations:

Some friends play at friendship but a true friend sticks closer than one's nearest kin. (New Revised Standard)

Friends can destroy one another, but a loving friend can stick closer than family (God's Word Translation)

Friends come and friends go, but a true friend sticks by you like family (The Message)

I just spent the last few days with friends that are as much my family as the family I claim by genetic association. I become increasingly aware that my life, my future, and my plans include these dear people. Clarification – my spouse and I have no children, our nuclear families are small and getting smaller, and our circle of "family-friends" are in similar situations. Perhaps this is, in some respect, the 21st century response to worries about end-of-life matters that were heretofore the concerns of one's biological family and children. Not perhaps. It is. At least in one respect. We often discuss (or at least infer) that we will be available to one another to care for each other's aging needs when that time arrives. But it is more than that. Much more.

We love each other like family. We "stick close" to one another – sometimes in better ways than our families are able.  We are family. No topics are off the table for discussion. We communicate with an openness that respects one another's feelings, but also respects the person with a loving honesty. We have history with one another, and try very hard to make sure our significant others are privy to that history so they feel included in the family. We laugh, and cry, together. And we often laugh as we cry. I can't imagine my world without these people. Beyond my life with the Frau, my world is most complete when I am able to share our lives with them. 

They are my Friends – "First Responders" – Family.

Stick close.    

Looking Back, Living Forward

In the time my blog has been idle since late February, you could say I've been busy. March and April are always busy months for a high school choir director - preparing and performing in various festivals/competitions/assessments and getting ready for end of year concerts and commencement. It's enough to keep any sane person's plate full. I, however, decided to turn March and April into a freaking buffet.  

March 8, the Frau and I picked up our periodic discussion of downsizing, the headaches of home maintenance - we own an older home with "character" and the character is starting to cost us - and the amount of drive time I have to work (about 45-50 minutes). Usually, the discussion drifts to exploring where we want to ultimately retire, with me looking for employment in those areas, and us making one final move to a warm climate and a maintenance free and downsized home. Different stars were in alignment on March 8, though, and we went into search mode.  The morning of March 9 we sat down in our respective recliners with our Mac Books and started searching for town homes and luxury apartments closer to my school.  We visited some of these that afternoon and the following day, and on the evening of March 10, signed a lease on a luxury apartment 15 minutes from my school.  We put the house on the market on March 11, took possession of the apartment on March 18 and spent my spring break moving, sold the house two weeks later, and close the sale a week from tomorrow. Throw in a garage sale and numerous car trips full of the dregs that just seem to grow when one is moving out, and you could say we had multiple "full plates" over the past few weeks.

Yes, things have been crazy, but we are about to finally settle into some sort of normalcy, love our new place, and both of us are looking forward to more time together, more time writing, and less windshield time for me. Which leads me to the focus of this, and possibly the next few postings. Moving and downsizing resulted in me looking back at lots of "treasures" - not all of which needed to be saved, but which certainly brought back many fond people memories - and lots of "I told you so" moments.

"I told you so" #1: I have always been a photo hound, and in the days of print film I spent hundreds of dollars on hundreds of pictures everywhere I traveled. My mother would always comment, "there are no people in this picture!" I scoffed at her and marveled at the artistry of my photos of major landmarks all over Europe. As I went through tubs of loose pictures and unopened photo albums, I discovered that the majority of the pictures I wanted to save had (yes, Mom, you were right again) people in them. Its the people that made those memories and landmarks special for me.

"I told you so" #2: The Frau has been telling me for years that I need to go through and sort all my old photos and I might find some of the ones I've been searching for through the years.  Two years ago, when my oldest friend, Robert, and I both turned 50, I wanted to put together a Shutterfly book of the experiences we have shared since we were in 4th grade, into junior high and high school, college, and a few European travel trips.  Our parents were good friends, as well, and I had no doubt I would come up with plenty of fodder for the book.  Robert's birthday came and went with no such book, because I simply couldn't find but  4-5 pictures of us. I could recall specific pictures, but I couldn't locate them. During the whirlwind that has been the past two months, Robert lost his mom. Only days before the funeral I had finally found the missing pictures (and more that I had forgotten I had) in the process of packing and moving. I was able to put the book together - two years late, but probably at a much more appreciated time. The book, you see, was framed by a picture of the birthday card we had been sending back and forth, with extra notes stapled inside, since 1974. We got the idea from his mom who had done something similar with a close friend of hers for many, many years. 

Regardless the chaos and frenetic nature of the past few weeks, the journey through forgotten photos has been a welcome calm of reflection, even while the rest of my life is moving forward in an exciting new direction.

Thankfulness, Traditions, & Transitions

I have been reading with interest the vast number of Facebook posts expressing gratitude for any number of people, places and things over the past month. I haven't participated in the daily postings, but I have been doing a lot of pondering about thankfulness, traditions and transitions that occur - especially at holidays - as one's life progresses.

My own Thanksgiving "tradition" has been evolving and changing over the past few years.  What once was a gathering at my parents' home with my sisters, grandparents, aunt and uncle, brother-in-law, niece and nephew, and eventually my wife, with obnoxious amounts of food, followed by Black Friday shopping marathons and visits to Santa, and a return to my own home to decorate and usher in the Christmas season, has undergone dramatic reduction over the years.  We lost members of the gathering - first my youngest sister, an infant niece, then my grandfather, my father, and most recently my grandmother.  We don't "do" the Black Friday shopping anymore, my aunt and her husband are celebrating in their own way, my sister is single again, and my niece and nephew are grown up teenagers with busy lives and work schedules, and shared time with their dad.  So this year, we celebrated - the food and family part - on Wednesday.  We've done that for a few years so that the kids can be with their dad on Thursday.  Instead of my mom's house being the gathering point, "everyone" came to our house.  "Everyone," in addition to us, has become my mother, my sister, and the kids, and since my nephew had to work, it was just "us girls."  It was pleasant, the food was good (if I do say so myself), as well as the company.  But it was different. No family gathered around the table looking at sale ads in the paper, no big card or board games.  And that's ok.  It's just another transition.  I've been learning to live in the now and not in the past. But it hasn't stopped me of thinking of, and being thankful for, people from the past that I still miss now.  And I know a lot of my friends and students are experiencing similar transitions that are resulting in changed traditions.

Not to be maudlin, but having a day of Thanksgiving which is more of a quiet day with the Frau rather than a full day of family festivities is giving me some quality time to be thankful for the people who are no longer with me, but have been an important part of my life.

I'm grateful to have known my sister, Sharon, who was hit by a car and killed just a couple of months shy of her 18th birthday on October 29, 1986.  She would be almost 44 if she had lived, but she is frozen in time at the age of almost 18, and in addition to her great, bright, and giving personality, she reminds me every day as I deal with high school students of the unpredictability of life, and that there are no guarantees for a long future.  Her loss impacts the kind of teacher I have become.  I'm thankful she remains a part of my life, if only in the shadows of memory.

I miss my dad, Carl, every day.  I quote him a lot in class, since our life's work is similar.  And I'm thankful for his gift of laughter, and playfulness, and love of music, games, and gardening that he passed on to me.  He never really understood my love of reading, and especially at the holidays seemed to get mildly irritated that I'd rather read a book than entertain him. He usually managed to pout or badger until he won that little battle of wills. But he was always ready to take some time off from work when I arrived home on a holiday break to go see a movie - especially if it was one we knew my mother wouldn't enjoy, and eat a Double Steakburger and a Very Strawberry Shake at Steak 'n Shake. Sometimes we would go to the local Denny's together for breakfast, and I would always order the breakfast sandwich there called "Moons Over My Hammy" - I liked it, but I would never (and still don't ever) order anything else, because it caused him to cackle with such laughter when I ordered it. I don't go to Denny's often these days, but when I do, I always order the same thing, just to hear that laughter in the shadows of my memory.

My grandfather taught me to love golf and a good cigar, and my grandmother and I developed a bond in my adulthood that I never had with her as a child. I think I miss her at Thanksgiving more than any other time. She was always hell-bent on getting everyone's "Christmas squared away" before the weekend ended.  That little 4'10" and 80 pound bundle of energy could outlast us all, and set the pace for the mad-house of post-Thanksgiving shopping. And she could eat us under the table when it came to left-overs, especially the pies. I think she fueled that little body on sugar.  When I was teaching in Texas, and after my grandfather had died, she and I would usually fly to my parents' home together for Thanksgiving. While we waited to board, she would invariably spot some family or group of travelers that she found intriguing, and she would excuse herself to go to the restroom.  On the way back, she would walk slowly behind the object of her attention, and sometimes just stop and stand for awhile and listen.  When she had enough, she would make her way back to me, and I would ask for a report from the Nosy Rosy Detective Agency. She would laugh like a giddy schoolgirl and tell me everything she learned. I miss those days.

I'm missing my mom a bit these days, as well.  She is still with us, and still acting stubbornly independent.  But she is aging, and it is starting to show in her health, in her memory, and in her social encounters with the world in general. This is a transition that I'm finding harder to handle. But I'm learning.  Some of my closest friends are in similar situations. We commiserate with one another, are thankful for our aging parents, understand that the transition is just as difficult for our parents, and try not to long too much for the days when we didn't have to juggle finding a way to be respectful of, and responsible for, our parents.

I've always been a traditional person and for many years have fiercely tried to cling to those sacred family icons. Finding the person with whom I now share my life has helped me to realize that people are more important than tradition, and losing people has taught me thankfulness and the necessity for transition and new traditions. 

In spite, and because, of the circumstances, gifts, gains and losses, traditions and transitions of my life, I truly am thankful and blessed.   And I wish the same for you. 

My Tree - My House

Do I really need to say more? Is this not one of the best representations of fall you have ever seen?

It's leafless now. But for a few days, for those who were taking note, it was beautiful - inside and out.

Downloads & Dinosaurs

A typical Saturday morning conversation with the Frau over coffee . . .

C - I signed us up for a trial membership with Netflix yesterday.
F - Why? What's wrong with going to the video store?
C - It's cheaper, with far more choices, and more current choices. Besides, they have Picket Fences already.
F - Do they pay postage?
C - Yes, and no late fees.
F - I guess.
C - . . . and think of the gas we'll save not driving to the video store.
F - I'm already convinced. My sweetie would rather sit down and do anything at her computer rather than cleaning her desk.
C - Fine. So where are we going for breakfast?
F - Why don't you order it online?

Summer Sloth

Ok, sloth is perhaps too harsh, but as my mother always delights in telling me, "if you had real job, you'd have to work in the summer - and holidays - and spring break." I don't know . . . I kind of think that after catching a couple of horny teenagers "practicing" the wrong art form in a practice room, I'm due for a little break.

The Frau and I have invested a good bit of time and money this year in making the new casita "ours," consequently, we have no money to go anywhere this summer. As the more ardent traveler of the two of us, I have surprised myself at my willingness to be more of a homebody this summer. I am loving working in the yard - not exactly slothful. And being able to curl up with a good book on a rainy day - ok, somewhat slothful. I can feel more virtuous when I'm reading about boy soldiers in Sierra Leone in "A Long Way Gone," but I've morphed into finally reading the Harry Potter series. I'm halfway through the second book, and I had to go to the gym to work out this a.m. to assuage my guilt. I'm also doing some schoolwork here and there - on my terms, though.

Staying put is giving me the opportunity to take part in a number of things I don't normally do - like have my carpal tunnel surgery (left wrist healing nicely, right wrist on deck for late July), schedule my overdue mammogram (always a joy), and "play" on the faculty softball team. Since my unfortunate bop-in-the-nose incident and 1st round of wrist surgery, I've been keeping score, but the doctor cleared me to start playing this week. If yet another tragedy strikes on the field, I may just burn my glove and call it a game. I'll keep you posted on that one.

Speaking of mammograms - someone close to me - who shall remain nameless (at her request) (like you won't figure this one out . . .) recently had her mammogram. She forgot and wore deodorant (a no-no for the uninitiated). She wiped that off, got squished, then proceeded to dress. She noticed a spray can in the changing room and thought, "how nice, they keep deodorant in here." She happily sprayed it on, only to realize it wasn't deodorant - but hairspray. Thus began the "de-application" process yet again. Typical mammogram - life saving, perhaps, but one humiliation after another. I'm sorry, gentlemen. While I'm sure the whole "bend over and cough" thing is less than underwhelming - at least you don't have to stick little BB's to it and have it smashed two different directions - with or without a heating pad.

But I digress. And it's my feeding time. And I'd really like to catch up with my friend, Mr. Potter. So I shall slothfully take your leave. For those of you who have "real" jobs, I wish I could say I'm sorry . . . :-)

Happy Holidays

This has turned out to be one of the most restful Christmas seasons I have experienced in years. All of my musician friends, in particular, understand that we often don't begin our holiday "rest" until after the holidays are over. Fortunately, my school December program was rather late in the month, and conflicted with other obligations I usually have during the same time period (Symphony Chorus "Magic of Christmas" concerts and church choir). So . . . I was "assisted" in my early resolution to quit over extending myself. Add to that, the Frau and I decided not to travel this season, so I've had some very peaceful days in the new home.

Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were almost like "the old days" - in that my sister and her fiance, joined my mother, me and the Frau at my mother's church for Christmas Eve services. Since the "sis" and I both attended that church during college (in our pre-Episcopalian days), it was rather like being "home for the holidays." And I think our mother enjoyed not having to attend services alone. We then had Christmas morning opening presents with the kids altogether the next day - and that hasn't happened in years. Getting together at the holidays has of late been more like a progressive dinner and gift giving operation.
The Puppinator was even invited for the weekend, so everyone was nestled all snug in their beds, so to speak. Here's hoping that you and yours have had, or will have, some semblance of "sabbath" during your holidays. Happy holidays!
Cinzia, the Frau & the Puppinator

Lavender Lane

The Frau and I bought a new home a couple of months ago, and Lavender Lane is the moniker one of our friends has given our street. It is a bit ironic - we found a house we loved when we least expected it, sold our house to the first people to look at it, and now we live directly across the street from some dear friends from church - an older female couple who have been together for 24 years. Next door to them is another female couple - about our age - who have been together about as long as we. I think there are another two couples around the corner and down the street, but we don't really know them. Here on Lavender Lane, though, we feel really normal, accepted, not "alternative." It also helps that LL is nestled in the center of the only Democratic stronghold in our state, but I digress.

Lavender Lane represents, for me at least, another milestone in our relationship (there were days during and following the move I could have called it a Hysterical Marker, but that's another story). This isn't a house that belonged to one or the other of us prior to our meeting, but it is the home that we have chosen to build (or at least redecorate and repair) together. It has only memories of our shared relationship, and the promise of what our future holds together in this place. I truly feel like I'm coming "home" to "my family" everytime I drive through the neighborhood and into the driveway.

One of our other great milestones was when we got married in one of the few places where it was actually legal - Vancouver, British Columbia ("O Canada . . ."). It meant a lot to us to have a legal and public acknowledgement of what we are to each other. The road to that milestone had its humor, as well. We had to purchase a marriage license in Chinatown from the Jack Chow insurance agency, which was not far from the Sing-A-Long Salon . . . Our "witnesses" were a concierge and a bellman. But it was legal.

I know my beloved spouse would like to have a ceremony here in the States - so we can celebrate with family and friends. And I know she must marvel at my reticence. I have marveled at my reticence. I counter that maybe we can do that to celebrate our 5th or 10th anniversary - but I think it sounds hollow. I think I might have finally pinpointed my hesitation, though. I don't want a ceremony - another milestone, if you will - to be less real than what I feel for her. I don't want anyone saying we're "pretending" to be a family, or mocking a ceremony as a "pale substitute." I keep hoping the day will come - sooner - that will allow us to publicly acknowledge, in our place of worship, and legally in our country of residence, the commitment we have already pledged to one another. It will be as REAL as our commitment, and it will be legal. And THAT will be the true celebration.
Amen.