July 19, 2002
This month has had so many wonderful and emotional things happen. I saw one of my dear friends from college, Sue, and it was hard because with our 5 children present, it wasn't like we could declare loudly,"Suck my dick!" like we did in college. We couldn't cuss like the sailors we are. However, we did sneak off when the kids went to bed and played nickel slot machines at the 7-11 which frankly was a very Harsh Betty and Redneck Ruby thing to do at midnight. Betty won a couple dollars, I lost my ass ($5) we got free sodas, and it was pretty fun.
She brought me a bag of presents, which was really cool. And I didn't have to share with the kids, but I let them play with the little balsa wood flying creatures and Genny got a really cute beanie baby horse that she has slept with on and off since they were here. It was small so we took it back east with us and she insisted on sleeping with it.
I felt like a lousy host. We didn't have as much money as I thought we would, and I wasn't sure how to feed a vegetarian in the middle of BBQ-Grill-Red-Meat-or-Die Land. I hunted around though and came up with some stuff she could eat and I even made sure we had tofu dogs for the 4th of July bbq, just for her.
I think the highlight for me in that regard is that all of those doggies were gone with the whole grain buns I'd bought, so I guess that was a pretty good score. I like tofu doggies, too, but I'll never confess to it, dammit.
Ultimately, her visit started me thinking about how things change. I guess there's part of me that still wants to be that person I was in college and I felt incongruous with her expectations of me. I know I was looking at this person I've always loved and was searching for who she'd become. I was feeling apologetic in some ways for the person I've become. I know she's got specific ideas about parenting and I know I don't parent like that. Sue has always loved me -- fat, skinny, foul-mouthed, cleaned up, depressed, happy, drunk and sober. I know she doesn't judge me. What was awful was that I was judging myself against what I thought were her standards and I felt awkward and inadequate and then I felt stupid for even thinking like that.
I am constantly struck by how insecure I am, even with loved ones. And that became apparent again, in my visit back home. I was so worried about my kids "acting up" and about pissing off some aunt, uncle, cousin or other family member by being inadequate. Not only an inadequate parent, but also an inadequate relative. I don't send cards, or phone anyone except my grandmother. And as I sat at my grandmother's and met these total strangers, with whom I was sure I shared little, I was proved wrong. I could see my grandfather's eyes in my cousin Tom. I could see my grandparents' features in the faces of my aunts, and more specifically, how they looked so much like my grandmother and my dad. More importantly, they were family and they felt like family and I felt like part of something bigger than myself where I was welcome and where I belonged. So yesterday, I wrote an email to a guy on the west coast I am pretty sure I'm related to in order to ask if he was my relative and to ask about the west coast schreiber reunion.
My grandmother gave me pictures to scan. I was struck by how much I looked like my aunt Nancy. I remember them telling me that when I was 10 or 11 and feeling kind of awkward. Now, with my adult eyes, I could see those resemblances, too.
I never did go to the family reunion. I went and visited with my grandmother. We drove to my grandfather's grave. The flowers that had been there were long dead and Grandma commented on how they hadn't engraved the date because she told them to wait,"Because I'll be there soon and they might as well wait." I couldn't respond to that at all. What do you say to a 91 year old woman in full control of her faculties? "Oh, no, Grams, you're not going to join him soon." I simply said,"I hope not very soon, Grams."
She was trying not to cry and took a rumpled tissue out and wiped off the purple bird turd off the stone. I promised I would come the next day and dress the stone.
I actually did it two days later, but it was a good process. It gave me time to mumble sweet nothings to my grandfather and dig my hands into the dirt and clean up the grave area and say goodbye. The dirt was full of creatures -- earwigs, centipedes, ants, and an odd brown beetle. It made me wonder if all those things were there to work on my grandfather's body. I put in shasta daisies (perennials) and white and red geraniums. I hate geraniums, but my grandmother requested them. Who am I to turn her down?
I saw the grave of the three day old child my aunt and uncle had to bury. I wish I had been there to share that grief. I left a white geranium by my cousin Harold's grave. He died when he was 22 in a motorcycle wreck. He was only 9 months older than me and we played a lot as children. I watered the flowers his mother must have left there for him. I prayed that God would never force me to bury a child.
I have pictures. Buttloads and buttloads of pictures, but they aren't all off my camera and I haven't had time to resize them and yadda, yadda, yadda. I have some damned good excuses though.
Mike's mom comes tonight, so we'll probably do more pix tonight due to popular demand. You simply don't tell a Leo Grandma that "No, you may not have the pix of your grandkids because I'm too fucking tired to download and resize them." Amazingly enough, you get laughed at and have to do it anyhow.
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