"I Never Could Get The Hang Of Tuesdays..."
So today is my birthday.
I don't say this fishing for birthday wishes (That's what Facebook is for), but merely to provide the initial context for this soliloquy of mine.
So today is my 35th birthday, and I am, more than ever, feeling the weight of my years pressing down on my shoulders, far more than I did when I turned 30. It has been a very rough year for me, and for many others in my circle of friends and family. For us personally, my wife and I, there was the birth of our son, certainly a joyous occasion, but one that has brought a lot of hard work and life changes with it that are still ongoing. Then the bad economy hit our company hard enough that I was no longer able to continue on and had to seek work elsewhere, starting in July. Fortunately, I was lucky enough to quickly find employment with a good company that is doing quite well for itself, and while the two hour round trip daily commute, very long hours, and less than ideal pay are stressors, I am counting my blessings that I have. I'm certainly better off in this regard than most of my other friends, who have suffered terribly during the Great Recession. It's otherwise an excellent work environment; I'm learning a lot, being given a lot of leeway to do my job, and right now, I get along pretty well with everyone there. Plus, the free food is excellent. Unfortunately, there was an extremely stressful issue within the company that almost lead to me resigning and finding work elsewhere...fortunately, it was resolved before it came to that, but it made the previous seven months a real nightmare for me. February was also a bit of a nightmare with a problematic business trip, and March visited me with a very dark and low time, as I was sick for almost a good two weeks with the flu and pneumonia.
Not to mention things happening around me: a very deep and personal tragedy visited some of my dearest friends; deep and personal tragedies visited some of my old childhood friends, who I am not as close to as I might like. But there is good, as well...another close friend of mine seems to finally be in a good place after spending over a decade battling his personal demons, and is finally about to achieve a lifelong dream of owning his own home. Seeing him finally become the person he wants to be has been almost as much of a joy to me as my son has been. But I would say that since my 34th birthday, life has definitely been a plum pudding of tragedy, stress and despair, shot through with little raisins of joy and exultation. I'm sure I could have come up with a better metaphor than that, but I'm too tired to try at the moment.
But there had been a lot of good news, and positive developments as of late, starting around Max's first birthday, and I had, at one point, convinced myself that from here on in, we were due a long string of good karma. I'm trying to keep that belief from dying, stillborn on the vine.
So today is my 35th birthday, and I am home sick again with this cold going around (which I got from my poor son, who had it at the same time he was teething) and trying to take care of a million things at work via telecommuting. And my biological-paternal Grandmother passed away over the night.
Now, this was not sudden or unexpected. Twelve weeks ago, she seemed like a relatively healthy woman of almost 85 years, who was in reasonable possession of her mental faculties. But then, in short order, she was hit with a cancer diagnosis, and then succumbed to late-in-life dementia, and deteriorated with almost alarming speed. She did pass away peacefully, and in her sleep. I just wish I had gotten another chance to have talked to her one more time. But at least it was as quick as quick can be, and not something where she lingered in agony. So now I'm running around, ill, but making plans to get the rest of my workweek wrapped up, and get into Atlanta long enough for the funeral on Thursday, then back to work on Friday.
Yes, this is very inconvenient in a manner of speaking for me. Work is crazy. Work is always crazy though, but work is pretty crazy at present. It's expensive to get down there, and I hate flying; every time I get on a plane, part of me is convinced that I'm stepping into the instrument of my own demise. My biological father has assured me that there's no need for me to come, that life is what it is. But despite all this, I feel I must. For several reasons.
First, and foremost, I feel that giri compels me. I am the eldest grandchild and I should be there, but that alone isn't why. There was a situation, eight years ago, when my wife and I were getting married, when my Grandfather suddenly announced that he wasn't coming to the wedding, but wanted to attend the reception. He said, very politely, and with no malice that I could detect, that since it wasn't a Jewish ceremony, he couldn't in any way shape or form "endorse" it with his presence; that he was simply too old to change his ways on this, and expected me to just indulge him on this point. As you can imagine, this caused a small shitstorm; My maternal Grandmother never spoke to him again until the day she died, and I told him that if he didn't come to the wedding, he wasn't invited to come at all. That this was a tremendous insult to me and more importantly, to my bride and her family, and that like it or not, this day wasn't about him, it was about us. So he needed to suck it down and attend everything, or nothing at all. I warned him that if he went ahead with this stubborn desire of his, that in the end, our relationship would never be the same again. And it never has been.
My Grandmother, however, came. She, in her own quiet and dignified way, defied him, and came to both the wedding and the reception. I would have to go too deeply into things too personal to explain why this was such an incredibly big deal, but suffice it to say, it was. And while it's true that funerals are only for the living, I promised myself I would be there for her when the time came, so to speak.
It also occurred to me that this was probably the last opportunity I have in my entire life to see my Grandfather one last time before he passes away. At 97 years come May, he's no spring chicken. And while things have been almost...normal, between us since the wedding, it suddenly occurred to me that I never really forgave him, in my deepest heart of hearts, despite my family expressing surprise and even admiration at how quickly I seemed to have done so in terms of outward appearance. It suddenly dawned on me that perhaps, the time had come to finally do that now.
So today is my 35th birthday. I'm lying on the couch, ill from this cold, just sitting here and listening to the rain hit the skylight in the otherwise quite house, trying to make life stop for just a few minutes, before it picks up again, trying to decide if my quiet, still mood is graceful acceptance of what life has thrown at me, the learned helplessness of a dog who has been shocked so many times he gives up reacting to it, or something in between.
And yet, despite my maudlin tone, I have hopes for the year to come. But I could do without living in such interesting times for a while.
-TS
I don't say this fishing for birthday wishes (That's what Facebook is for), but merely to provide the initial context for this soliloquy of mine.
So today is my 35th birthday, and I am, more than ever, feeling the weight of my years pressing down on my shoulders, far more than I did when I turned 30. It has been a very rough year for me, and for many others in my circle of friends and family. For us personally, my wife and I, there was the birth of our son, certainly a joyous occasion, but one that has brought a lot of hard work and life changes with it that are still ongoing. Then the bad economy hit our company hard enough that I was no longer able to continue on and had to seek work elsewhere, starting in July. Fortunately, I was lucky enough to quickly find employment with a good company that is doing quite well for itself, and while the two hour round trip daily commute, very long hours, and less than ideal pay are stressors, I am counting my blessings that I have. I'm certainly better off in this regard than most of my other friends, who have suffered terribly during the Great Recession. It's otherwise an excellent work environment; I'm learning a lot, being given a lot of leeway to do my job, and right now, I get along pretty well with everyone there. Plus, the free food is excellent. Unfortunately, there was an extremely stressful issue within the company that almost lead to me resigning and finding work elsewhere...fortunately, it was resolved before it came to that, but it made the previous seven months a real nightmare for me. February was also a bit of a nightmare with a problematic business trip, and March visited me with a very dark and low time, as I was sick for almost a good two weeks with the flu and pneumonia.
Not to mention things happening around me: a very deep and personal tragedy visited some of my dearest friends; deep and personal tragedies visited some of my old childhood friends, who I am not as close to as I might like. But there is good, as well...another close friend of mine seems to finally be in a good place after spending over a decade battling his personal demons, and is finally about to achieve a lifelong dream of owning his own home. Seeing him finally become the person he wants to be has been almost as much of a joy to me as my son has been. But I would say that since my 34th birthday, life has definitely been a plum pudding of tragedy, stress and despair, shot through with little raisins of joy and exultation. I'm sure I could have come up with a better metaphor than that, but I'm too tired to try at the moment.
But there had been a lot of good news, and positive developments as of late, starting around Max's first birthday, and I had, at one point, convinced myself that from here on in, we were due a long string of good karma. I'm trying to keep that belief from dying, stillborn on the vine.
So today is my 35th birthday, and I am home sick again with this cold going around (which I got from my poor son, who had it at the same time he was teething) and trying to take care of a million things at work via telecommuting. And my biological-paternal Grandmother passed away over the night.
Now, this was not sudden or unexpected. Twelve weeks ago, she seemed like a relatively healthy woman of almost 85 years, who was in reasonable possession of her mental faculties. But then, in short order, she was hit with a cancer diagnosis, and then succumbed to late-in-life dementia, and deteriorated with almost alarming speed. She did pass away peacefully, and in her sleep. I just wish I had gotten another chance to have talked to her one more time. But at least it was as quick as quick can be, and not something where she lingered in agony. So now I'm running around, ill, but making plans to get the rest of my workweek wrapped up, and get into Atlanta long enough for the funeral on Thursday, then back to work on Friday.
Yes, this is very inconvenient in a manner of speaking for me. Work is crazy. Work is always crazy though, but work is pretty crazy at present. It's expensive to get down there, and I hate flying; every time I get on a plane, part of me is convinced that I'm stepping into the instrument of my own demise. My biological father has assured me that there's no need for me to come, that life is what it is. But despite all this, I feel I must. For several reasons.
First, and foremost, I feel that giri compels me. I am the eldest grandchild and I should be there, but that alone isn't why. There was a situation, eight years ago, when my wife and I were getting married, when my Grandfather suddenly announced that he wasn't coming to the wedding, but wanted to attend the reception. He said, very politely, and with no malice that I could detect, that since it wasn't a Jewish ceremony, he couldn't in any way shape or form "endorse" it with his presence; that he was simply too old to change his ways on this, and expected me to just indulge him on this point. As you can imagine, this caused a small shitstorm; My maternal Grandmother never spoke to him again until the day she died, and I told him that if he didn't come to the wedding, he wasn't invited to come at all. That this was a tremendous insult to me and more importantly, to my bride and her family, and that like it or not, this day wasn't about him, it was about us. So he needed to suck it down and attend everything, or nothing at all. I warned him that if he went ahead with this stubborn desire of his, that in the end, our relationship would never be the same again. And it never has been.
My Grandmother, however, came. She, in her own quiet and dignified way, defied him, and came to both the wedding and the reception. I would have to go too deeply into things too personal to explain why this was such an incredibly big deal, but suffice it to say, it was. And while it's true that funerals are only for the living, I promised myself I would be there for her when the time came, so to speak.
It also occurred to me that this was probably the last opportunity I have in my entire life to see my Grandfather one last time before he passes away. At 97 years come May, he's no spring chicken. And while things have been almost...normal, between us since the wedding, it suddenly occurred to me that I never really forgave him, in my deepest heart of hearts, despite my family expressing surprise and even admiration at how quickly I seemed to have done so in terms of outward appearance. It suddenly dawned on me that perhaps, the time had come to finally do that now.
So today is my 35th birthday. I'm lying on the couch, ill from this cold, just sitting here and listening to the rain hit the skylight in the otherwise quite house, trying to make life stop for just a few minutes, before it picks up again, trying to decide if my quiet, still mood is graceful acceptance of what life has thrown at me, the learned helplessness of a dog who has been shocked so many times he gives up reacting to it, or something in between.
And yet, despite my maudlin tone, I have hopes for the year to come. But I could do without living in such interesting times for a while.
-TS