Showing posts with label Parents. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Parents. Show all posts

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Autumn, 2001

Watching the coverage of the 10th anniversary of 9/11 has derailed me.  I felt something coming on all week but today the whole thing crystallized for me. Everything in our lives changed that day, but what went on to happen in the next two months almost crushed me.

The September 11th attacks were surreal. I kept thinking we'd find it was just a few rogue idiots - wishful thinking, it turned out.  When in the following days it became clear the scope and source of the attacks amounted to an act of war  I was bewildered. This was something that happened to other generations (WW II, etc.). I did not think I would live to see something of that scope happen in my lifetime. Throw in the weeks of coverage and struggling to get a grip on it all, I needed to go away and regroup.

Luckily, I was booked to fly out of Boston to Jackson Hole just a few weeks later to spend a week with my sister and her twins in Yellowstone.  It was an annual trip and I always loved going out there, but when I woke up the morning of my departure I had such a knot in my stomach I was almost physically sick.  Flying out of the Boston airport was suddenly very scary.  I had no idea how the security and processing methods had changed, or even if it was safe.  Copycat hijackings were on my mind as Joe dropped me off at Logan Airport. We have not before or since had such a tender farewell.

Just after I returned from Yellowstone we got word (on October 23, 2001) that my 69-year-old mother had pancreatic cancer.  I remember the date because it was my wedding anniversary and Joe had given me a necklace with a gold heart and a little ruby (my birthstone) in the crest.  I made him take it back because when I looked at it all I could see was a broken, bleeding heart.  My mother, diagnosed with cancer?  She was the healthiest person I knew. Three weeks later she was dead.

Ten years later I feel it all very keenly.  Calling 9/11 it a "life changing" event is an understatement of epic proportions.  Watching the coverage this morning, I kept thinking, "10 years ago right now, everything was fine.....10 years ago right now, everything was fine." Then 8:45AM came, the time the first plane hit, and I felt like I had stepped over a line.  Everything  was no longer fine.  Ten years later our country struggles with the far-reaching impacts of that day, including our current economic storm.  I struggle to find  the "new normal" but nothing seems stable. We live on the shifting sands of economic threats, challenges of aging and everyday unknowns.  Maybe it's because I'm 10 years older and see things differently from the perspective of my fifties. Maybe it's because I lost my much-loved dad just 5 months ago and now I feel both their absences so intensely.



Maybe there is no "new normal" because there is no "normal".  This could all just be a rite of passage into becoming a wise elder, but I don't feel grown up enough to be a wise elder. I remember with great nostalgia being able to effortlessly jump on a plane and fly home by myself to visit my mom and dad.  Dad was usually watching golf, football or baseball. I'd be stretched out on the couch watching the game, reading or (usually) snoozing. I did not have to make a decision or be responsible for anything.  Mom would bustle around and inevitably say, "Did you fly halfway across the country just to sleep?" and I would always smile and say, "Yes, Mom, I did."

I liked that era of my life, of America's life.  I will never stop missing that "normal", nor stop wishing to find a new one for myself and for all of us.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

The View from a Pew

I need someone to please tell me who is in charge.  We are running out of grownups in my family and I am sitting closer and closer to the front pew in church.

When making a graham cracker crust last week  I instinctively reached for the phone to call my mom and ask her about baking temps.  She has been gone for 9 years but she is still my go-to person.  I had no idea how much information was stored in her head until we lost her.   She was the central pivot in our family, keeping everyone rotating in orbits, tracking the whereabouts, births, deaths, marriages, arrivals and departures of the vast tribe that is our extended family.  When that ship sailed, so did a mountain of information.

We lost another grownup this weekend - My Uncle Ed.  The McGill side of my

[caption id="attachment_1616" align="alignright" width="193" caption="St. Leonards - the McGill "Mother Church" "][/caption]

family has/had a nice tradition at funerals.  We line up in semi-birth order, the cousins are together, the grandchildren of the deceased are together, the siblings, etc.  We then march into church with the immediate family sitting up front, then the grandkids, cousins, etc.  all in order.  I have noticed that as the years pass, I have moved closer and closer to the front pew. The people in church are mostly younger than I am - and sitting behind me.

When I am  in  Iowa or  Wisconsin with one of my sisters, we chatter endlessly on those long drives across the plains to Nebraska.   When we get stumped on some bit of family history or knowledge we hit the invisible OnStar button on the dashboard and say, "OnStar, could you ask Mom (enter question here.)"   Mom was our OnStar.  Our "MomStar" if you will.   A vast repository of  wide-ranging resources, trivia, experience and wisdom.

As I lose more and more of those grown-ups from my childhood  it makes me feel a little wobbly about who is in charge - who are the grownups now?  Me - an OnStar?   It is not an option.  We are destined to  step up, take the place of our elders  and pass along  those same things.  We are  the role models, supporters, informers, and safe-harbors of their life's  journey.

We are the grownups now.  We have the view from the front pew.