(no subject)
And so I find myself in Calgary, studying ballet to an intensity I never thought imaginable. My brain feels like a wad of wet paper towel, which no amount of wine or relaxing will fix. I have a teaching practical tomorrow, and really should be studying. And yet here I am.
I don't want to talk about ballet.
I am staying with my aunt and uncle, and their children/ my cousins (ages 10 and 12), their lifestyle is substantially different than my own (music? coffee? white bread? inappropriate humour? nuh-uh!). But we do share a common thread- my grandparents.
My grandmother is going on 88 this April, and is starting to lose her mind a little. She still lives on her own, and is in perfect physical health (beyond the fact that she's deaf as a stump). But she is forgetting to eat, forgetting to shower (its beyond repulsive), and forgetting important dates and facts. She doesn't remember when my wedding is, although she seems to know that its happening and she needs a new suit.
I am able to see her memory loss with a sense of humour, which distracts me from how sad it is that I am coming very close to losing someone who has been around since I was born. I have known her for almost 26 years. I saw her once a week. She loves my sister and I unconditionally. But I don't really know anything about her.
Ask my Grandma about her life, or my dad's life as they were growing up, and she shuts down. I am terribly saddened by this. I don't know what her job was. I only found out what my grandfather actually did for a living (I thought he built airplanes- but he was actually a payroll clerk) this week. I don't know anything about my uncles, I don't know what their lives were like as they grew up.
I want to know about my dad. I know he was a punk, but I try to weasel stories out of his side of the family and I get nothing.
My mother's side is so rich with history. I can tell you where both my maternal grandparents were born, who their siblings were, how they met, what they did for work, where they had their children, what their parents were like, and what my mother and aunts were like growing up. I am proud of where I come from, and I feel a sense of connection with the women in my family.
I am looking at a picture of my Dad's dad from the late 30s-early 40s, when he was young and dapper in his army uniform. I have no idea who he was. Does anyone else feel like parts of themselves are missing? I only recently found out that he couldn't afford to go to university, although he received above-average grades in school (much like my father, who I think would be formally considered a "genius" on paper, but acts like a buffoon to cover it up). My dad and uncles only found out he was an alcoholic when they cleaned out his stuff and found vodka bottles everywhere. We had no idea.
When I have kids, I will tell them everything about my family, and Jeremy's family too (as much as we know). I don't want their history to go unknown.
Am I the only one who feels this way? Maybe its my MicMac coming out- I want to tell my kids stories about my mother and my sister as we grew up- and about their aunts and how I met their dad.
Okay. Ballet now.
I don't want to talk about ballet.
I am staying with my aunt and uncle, and their children/ my cousins (ages 10 and 12), their lifestyle is substantially different than my own (music? coffee? white bread? inappropriate humour? nuh-uh!). But we do share a common thread- my grandparents.
My grandmother is going on 88 this April, and is starting to lose her mind a little. She still lives on her own, and is in perfect physical health (beyond the fact that she's deaf as a stump). But she is forgetting to eat, forgetting to shower (its beyond repulsive), and forgetting important dates and facts. She doesn't remember when my wedding is, although she seems to know that its happening and she needs a new suit.
I am able to see her memory loss with a sense of humour, which distracts me from how sad it is that I am coming very close to losing someone who has been around since I was born. I have known her for almost 26 years. I saw her once a week. She loves my sister and I unconditionally. But I don't really know anything about her.
Ask my Grandma about her life, or my dad's life as they were growing up, and she shuts down. I am terribly saddened by this. I don't know what her job was. I only found out what my grandfather actually did for a living (I thought he built airplanes- but he was actually a payroll clerk) this week. I don't know anything about my uncles, I don't know what their lives were like as they grew up.
I want to know about my dad. I know he was a punk, but I try to weasel stories out of his side of the family and I get nothing.
My mother's side is so rich with history. I can tell you where both my maternal grandparents were born, who their siblings were, how they met, what they did for work, where they had their children, what their parents were like, and what my mother and aunts were like growing up. I am proud of where I come from, and I feel a sense of connection with the women in my family.
I am looking at a picture of my Dad's dad from the late 30s-early 40s, when he was young and dapper in his army uniform. I have no idea who he was. Does anyone else feel like parts of themselves are missing? I only recently found out that he couldn't afford to go to university, although he received above-average grades in school (much like my father, who I think would be formally considered a "genius" on paper, but acts like a buffoon to cover it up). My dad and uncles only found out he was an alcoholic when they cleaned out his stuff and found vodka bottles everywhere. We had no idea.
When I have kids, I will tell them everything about my family, and Jeremy's family too (as much as we know). I don't want their history to go unknown.
Am I the only one who feels this way? Maybe its my MicMac coming out- I want to tell my kids stories about my mother and my sister as we grew up- and about their aunts and how I met their dad.
Okay. Ballet now.