(no subject)
I don't know what to write.
Mamma died. She was 102. She waited until after second seder. She waited until Aunt B was on vacation, and would be home with her. She waited until she died in such a way that we went through Shabbos, buried her that Sunday, sat shivah for only two and a half days, and resumed our Passover celebration. (You're not allowed to mourn on holiday.) She wasn't my mamma, actually. But she kind of was. I have such a weird weird weird position in this family. I'm not really anyone's daughter these days.
I am, however, someone's sister: Chloe is coming down to the city tomorrow and we're going to go visit colleges. Which will be exciting. We might go down to Philadelphia to see Haverford. Depending.
I'm down to a 19 day countdown: 19 days to the end of work and library school. My To-Do List has gotten a lot shorter, too (at least in terms of things pertaining to libraries):
Subject Paper for Children's Lit
"Site Visit" for Info Tech
Holocaust Literature Paper for Children's Lit
shivah was strange because I had the exact same conversation at least six times: it amounted to "who are you and what are you doing here?" followed by a slow extraction of my life story from me - or at least an attempted extraction; I managed to circumvent this most of the time by saying something about next year-St. Louis-PhD-Yay! and then was asked to give a three-second synopsis of my research interests. At one point I had a pretty good, articulate, explanation of trauma theory going but I lost that within 24 hours.
Then comes the return of the total lack of privacy. I share a bedroom with some adolescent boys. Most of the time they're away, but the past two weeks there's been someone here constantly. I don't want to count the number of international calls I've had interrupted by boys coming into the room, plunking themselves down in front of the TV, turning up the volume, and sitting there despite the fact that I was obviously trying to have a private conversation. Craziness!
Other news: I'm changing my plane ticket to China. It is now round-trip from St. Louis leaving a day before the Finkels. It turned out to be almost $500 cheaper to do it this way.
So there's all this stuff, but there's more too, and I'm losing track of time and of my life. Or it feels that way, at least. I'm having trouble remembering what needs to happen when (despite having it all written down). Time stagnates. It's that time of year.
Oh, right. The name change. The name change that I've been trying to do since I was a teenager. I mentioned it to Josh recently - something about this upcoming move and the new start is making me feel that it's finally time to just go ahead and do it. (This, by the way, is a name change from my father's last name to my mother's maiden name.) I can't explain this. I don't know what to tell people. it's just something I need to do.
Josh's intimation that it's not necessary because my aunt and uncle have somehow tried to make things up to me the last two years, that they really do love me, is simply not enough. I love them dearly, but it's my grandfather who took care of us, who was the only one who gave a damn about us, and these stories I hear about how much my father's family WANTED to help just don't cut it. Neither does retrospective desire. And he's still playing headgames with me, and I just don't want any part of this anymore. I'm about to start a new life (effectively) and although I know I cna't really leave these things behind me...I would really like to start this new life on my own terms.
Does that make sense? I don't know if it makes sense. I don't know if it matters if it makes sense.
Mamma would have thought it made sense.
Mamma died. She was 102. She waited until after second seder. She waited until Aunt B was on vacation, and would be home with her. She waited until she died in such a way that we went through Shabbos, buried her that Sunday, sat shivah for only two and a half days, and resumed our Passover celebration. (You're not allowed to mourn on holiday.) She wasn't my mamma, actually. But she kind of was. I have such a weird weird weird position in this family. I'm not really anyone's daughter these days.
I am, however, someone's sister: Chloe is coming down to the city tomorrow and we're going to go visit colleges. Which will be exciting. We might go down to Philadelphia to see Haverford. Depending.
I'm down to a 19 day countdown: 19 days to the end of work and library school. My To-Do List has gotten a lot shorter, too (at least in terms of things pertaining to libraries):
Subject Paper for Children's Lit
"Site Visit" for Info Tech
Holocaust Literature Paper for Children's Lit
shivah was strange because I had the exact same conversation at least six times: it amounted to "who are you and what are you doing here?" followed by a slow extraction of my life story from me - or at least an attempted extraction; I managed to circumvent this most of the time by saying something about next year-St. Louis-PhD-Yay! and then was asked to give a three-second synopsis of my research interests. At one point I had a pretty good, articulate, explanation of trauma theory going but I lost that within 24 hours.
Then comes the return of the total lack of privacy. I share a bedroom with some adolescent boys. Most of the time they're away, but the past two weeks there's been someone here constantly. I don't want to count the number of international calls I've had interrupted by boys coming into the room, plunking themselves down in front of the TV, turning up the volume, and sitting there despite the fact that I was obviously trying to have a private conversation. Craziness!
Other news: I'm changing my plane ticket to China. It is now round-trip from St. Louis leaving a day before the Finkels. It turned out to be almost $500 cheaper to do it this way.
So there's all this stuff, but there's more too, and I'm losing track of time and of my life. Or it feels that way, at least. I'm having trouble remembering what needs to happen when (despite having it all written down). Time stagnates. It's that time of year.
Oh, right. The name change. The name change that I've been trying to do since I was a teenager. I mentioned it to Josh recently - something about this upcoming move and the new start is making me feel that it's finally time to just go ahead and do it. (This, by the way, is a name change from my father's last name to my mother's maiden name.) I can't explain this. I don't know what to tell people. it's just something I need to do.
Josh's intimation that it's not necessary because my aunt and uncle have somehow tried to make things up to me the last two years, that they really do love me, is simply not enough. I love them dearly, but it's my grandfather who took care of us, who was the only one who gave a damn about us, and these stories I hear about how much my father's family WANTED to help just don't cut it. Neither does retrospective desire. And he's still playing headgames with me, and I just don't want any part of this anymore. I'm about to start a new life (effectively) and although I know I cna't really leave these things behind me...I would really like to start this new life on my own terms.
Does that make sense? I don't know if it makes sense. I don't know if it matters if it makes sense.
Mamma would have thought it made sense.