"I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life;
to put to rout all that was not life and not when I had come to die, discover that I had not lived." ~Henry David Thoreau

Monday, August 27, 2018

About Small Talk

It's difficult for me now.  I was never great at chit chat, but now it's pure agony.  When at a gathering, I'm approached by someone I haven't seen in a while and the dreaded question is asked.  Something along the line of "How are you?"  There's a hundred ways in which to ask this question and regardless of the way it's posed, it does the same thing to me.  I feel it first in my hands, as they instantly go clammy.  Then it runs up through my arms and lands right in the middle of my chest.

Does she really want to know?  And if so, how much?  Surely she doesn't want the gory details.  She's simply being polite because we're standing at the cooler of drinks and I'm reaching for one and so is she, and silence is terrible.  How am I?  I don't know how to answer that question.  The words want to burst out of me and keeping them contained is almost as painful and awkward as letting them out.  They want to explode, but she doesn't need that kind of verbal vomit all over her crisp and happy life.  And so, I answer with a lie.

"Things are great.  Just doing the usual."

God, it's such a lie.  Things are not great.  Things are messy.  Things are complicated.  Things are painful.  Nothing is clear.  Nothing is easy.  The path before me has never been so crooked.

Tonight we went to an annual football kick-off BBQ that we look forward to each year.  It's a time to see people we rarely get to see, and with it, comes a situation that always leaves me anxious because the days are always hard, and nothing has gotten better in the last year.  No one wants to hear that, as that's not why they came to the BBQ.  They came to enjoy an evening with friends and food and football.  But what few understand is that wherever we go, a crap load of heartache and discomfort follows.  

It cleared out and we remained while the kids finished up jumping in the bounce house.  It was a breath of fresh air to talk to a good friend that I hardly ever see, and it's sad because we are practically neighbors.  But life is busy, and it's hard to make time for commiseration with another broken person.  Her husband dropped dead of a heart condition six years ago when she was a young mom with a little toddler.  The road has been tumultuous for her, to say the least.  I love her to pieces and tonight after the crowd had gone, we stayed and talked about all the things that are difficult to keep inside.  You know, the real answer to that dreaded question that's too painful and inconvenient for many people.  But I felt like I could really tell her because she "got" it.

How am I?  Well, pull up a chair.  I'm glad you asked.

We finally said goodbye and vowed to get together before next year but as I was driving home, I had the thought that maybe I should start answering people at coolers with a bit more candor.  They ask the question at the cooler, and I lie.  I lie because it's easy, but perhaps I'm not giving them enough credit where credit is due.  Perhaps they really want to know how I'm doing.  Perhaps they remember that this horrible thing happened and it ripped us to pieces and no one simply gets over something like that and that the rippling effect is endless, as it's touched every fraction of our lives.  Maybe as we're standing there at the cooler, she wants to ask the obvious thing because she sees it on my face, but she doesn't want to upset me.  So she simply asks, "How are you?"

And I lie.  And I'm doing her a disservice by robbing her of the chance to be vulnerable with someone.  I believe that we are in this life together to learn from and help each other and when I lie, I'm doing nothing for either of us.  I know better than anyone that when we bleed in front of each other and allow them to nurse our wounds, that only then are we truly free to have this human experience in the manner that it was intended.  I need to bleed more.  I need to let others nurse more.  I say I'm an open book, but that's not true.  I need to be better at authentically bleeding because in doing that, we'll both learn something.

Ethan and I had these smiles glued on tonight, but it was a farce.  It's been a rough go for us lately, and it's okay for people to know that.  It's okay to not be perfect.  It's okay to show people just how imperfect we are.  

Wednesday, August 22, 2018

Slipping Through My Fingers

I was already here today but I'm here again.  I have a lot that needs attention at home, but instead, I'm back here.  It smells of rubber and sweat.  My oldest son, the same boy who made me a mom, is pumping iron.  He alternates between lifting weights and running on the treadmill, and I sit here and try not to watch him, but it's difficult to pretend that I don't feel the things that I feel.  Yesterday, he came into this world.  The realization that I only have four years left with him under my wing is daunting to contemplate, so I try to think of something else. It's not working.

When I was growing up, I loved the start of school.  Maybe it's because I grew up in the throes of hell where it was hotter than hot and wetter than wet.  Living in the muggy south will make one long for cooler days and even though I loved what summer brought to the table, I was always ready for a change.  As I got older, I'd peruse my issue of "YM" or "Teen" magazine and do everything that the Committee of They recommended I do to get ready for school.  I got a perm.  I gave myself a manicure.  I laid out for a few extra hours each day to ensure I had that perfect sun-kissed glow.  My oldest daughter is already wearing mascara and eyeliner, and her sister isn't far behind.  I'm sure that one day, they'll peruse the magazines in the same way I did not so many years ago.

Ever since Garrett, the start of school is hard.  That first back-to-school happened just six weeks after he died and I did the best I could, but all I could think about was how empty the house was.  Devin was at preschool, and Garrett should have been starting that year as well.  Instead, he was in the ground.  The house was too quiet.  It's always quiet when the kids are in school and yet, I still think I'm supposed to have a little boy following me around like a shadow.  He's frozen as three in my mind, and there he will stay forever.  And so, I am trapped in a parallel universe that houses a three-year-old, but I'm forced to acknowledge a reality in which he does not exist anymore.  






Today I walked Lauren and Devin to school and I did my best to avert my eyes from the kids I knew were second graders.  I couldn't help seeing them, as they were all around me.  They were going to his class.  I know he's not there, but it doesn't negate my need for him to be there.  Each year that my children age, he does not.  Each time they progress into a new grade, he does not go in turn.  So the first day of school no longer holds the same appeal that it did back then, but I still try.  I try my damnedest to keep up with the traditions and I smile, even though so much of my heart is missing. 

Entering 9th and 7th, as opposed to 2nd and kindergarten in 2011.



Hailey and Ethan went off to junior high together.  I watched as they walked away, and I felt my heart crushing just a little beneath my ribs.  I watched as they walked beneath the trees that were nothing more than twigs when we moved in thirteen years ago.  Thirteen years!  Where have the years gone?  There's something about losing a child that opens your eyes to how fleeting life is, and how quickly things can change.  I hope they make it back from school safely.  I hope no one pulls a gun in their school...again.  I don't know if my heart can handle another shooting because the one from 2016 about stopped my heart.  I hope they make good choices and good friends.  I hope they feel included.  I hope kids are nice.  I hope they are nice.  I hope that their good days outweigh their bad days, and that both of them understand how incredible they are.  Oh, I hope so many things for them.


I went for a three mile run to distract myself.  It was a good run but when I stopped, I remembered.  I remembered that my oldest child is struggling so much and there's not a damn thing I can really do to help him.  I hope all we've done and this new course of action is a good one.  I hope that our meeting tomorrow serves a purpose and that we walk out of there with a plan.  But really?  I'm watching him right now and wishing so badly that I could take every care off his shoulders and carry it on mine.  I wish it worked like that.

I made cookies today.  It was a tradition I started with Ethan on his first day of kindergarten when I was big and pregnant with Devin.  I think I made cookies that day more so because I wanted cookies, but we ate them together when school ended as we talked about his day.  I've made oatmeal walnut chocolate chip cookies each year since, except the year when Garrett died.  That year I used store bought dough, but I think I deserve a gold star for even getting out of bed that day.  


Angus was sad today.  He barely moved from the spot in front of the window, and waited patiently for his pack to return.  And when they finally did?  It was time to wrestle.

It rained cats and dogs today, and I was glad.  There's a mysterious kind of catharsis to the weather matching my mood, and it happened today.  The kids came home soaking wet and cold, which is odd because it's been hotter than balls for two months.  I was glad for the chill in the air, and I only wish it would last longer.  Tomorrow it will be hot again, I'm certain.  The kids ate cookies at the table while I made bread and we chatted about the good and the bad things from the day.  Devin couldn't come up with a single bad thing, which is rare but great.  Lauren is sad because one of her best friends isn't in her class, and Hailey was upset that they missed the bus this morning.  Ugh, that's a story for another day.  But Ethan?  Ethan came home smiling, even though he was soaked from head to toe.  Maybe he'll be alright after all.  Maybe.


After their retell of the day, I was feeling better.  Lauren talked about Garrett in her class, because they had to mention four important things about themselves and she chose to tell them about her youngest brother, even though most of them already knew.  She was sitting at the table getting a jump start on an assignment that isn't due until next month, and I was making spaghetti for dinner.  And that's when it happened.  We were singing along to my "Mamma Mia" soundtrack when all of the sudden, a certain song came on and that familiar sting hit my nose and my eyes became glossy and I had to swallow the lump in my throat.

Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning
Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile

I watch her go with a surge of that well-known sadness

And I have to sit down for a while

The feeling that I'm losing her forever

And without really entering her world

I'm glad whenever I can share her laughter
That funny little girl

Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute

The feeling in it

Slipping through my fingers all the time

Do I really see what's in her mind

Each time I think I'm close to knowing

She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time

Sleep in our eyes,
her and me at the breakfast table

Barely awake, I let precious time go by

Then when she's gone,

there's that odd melancholy feeling

And a sense of guilt I can't deny

What happened to the wonderful adventures
The places I had planned for us to go
(Slipping through my fingers all the time)

Well, some of that we did but most we didn't
And why, I just don't know

Slipping through my fingers all the time

I try to capture every minute

The feeling in it

Slipping through my fingers all the time

Do I really see what's in her mind
Each time I think I'm close to knowing

She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time

Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture

And save it from the funny tricks of time
Slipping through my fingers

Slipping through my fingers all the time

Schoolbag in hand she leaves home in the early morning

Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile


And so, the tears fell hard.  I couldn't hold back, and Lauren got up and wrapped her tiny arms around my waist and just hugged me.   

"I don't want to grow up," she said against me.  "I want to stay this age forever."

In my mind, she was six hours old and it was only the two of us in that room, and I was far too excited to sleep.  Like all of them, she's slipping right through my fingers and there's nothing I can do to stop it.  One day, I'll be making dinner for only her dad and me.  There will be no more back-to-school nights.  No more conferences.  No more science projects.  No more socks to match and grumble over when one of them disappears.  The days are flying by, and I am desperate to catch them before they're all gone.  Right now, I'm staring at a boy of whom I do not recognize.  Yesterday, he was born.  Today, he's getting scruff on his chin and he's thinking about girls.  Slow down, time.  At present, you are the enemy and I need you to be a bit kinder to my broken heart.  

Sunday, August 19, 2018

UK Day 7- Looking for Nessy

Thursday was a long day, but it was one of my favorite days of the whole trip.  I was sad that we didn't have time to explore Aberdeen more than we did, but like each day before, we had an early train to catch.  On the ride to Aberdeen the previous day, Cody hopped online and did some research on what to do in Inverness, but I was iffy.  Not because I didn't want to go out to the Highlands, but because it was a long trip and I didn't know if we should eat an entire day going out there and then make or way back down to Edinburgh.  It was stressful because we only had a few days to spend in Scotland, and I didn't want to spend a million more miles on trains.  We knew it was a three hour train ride over to Inverness, and then another three hours back down to Edinburgh.

At our motel in Aberdeen, Cody spent some time writing emails and making phone calls and he found a local guy in Inverness named Doug McLeod.  Doug had a van and a wealth of knowledge about the area after having lived there most of his life, and he agreed to meet us at the Inverness train station at 10:30 on Thursday morning and take us and our bags all over that region and then drop us at our motel in Inverness that evening.  Of course he charged us to do it all, but we did the math and figured it was more cost effective to go that route rather than paying cab fairs or renting a car, likely spending most of the day getting lost.  So we got to the Aberdeen station in plenty of time, ate donuts and OJ for breakfast, and were off.

Saying goodbye to Aberdeen before hopping the train.



It's hard to imagine, but I loved the train ride to Inverness at least as much as the ride the day before into Aberdeen.  This time rather than seeing the ocean to our left the whole way, we rode through some of the most idyllic farmland in existence.  As we traveled, it was easy to picture my ancestors in those very fields, tending to the sheep and crops.  The three hours passed too quickly, but we arrived in Inverness right on schedule and met Doug, or "Dougie" as he introduced himself.  Right away we sensed that he too spoke fluent Sarcasm, and we hit it off.  

We rode all through the small city, which as with every other town or village we'd visited, packed full of rich history and nuance.  





We didn't know as we passed it, but this is the outside of the inn where we stayed that night.  Right on the River Ness and so quaint!
We drove out to Loch Ness, and I think we enjoyed the ride with Dougie and all his interesting bits of information and entertaining presentation as much as we enjoyed the scenery (like the story of he and his wife flying all the way out to Las Vegas to get married while he wore his kilt and his wife was given away by Elvis).  It took no time at all to realize just how smart we were to hire Dougie for the day because the roads were narrow and windy and like all the small villages around there, it would have been a nightmare to navigate through without experience.  

Loch Ness was incredible, to say the least.  The day was freezing and windy and I loved everything about it.  The lake is surprisingly skinny and long and it doesn't have to narrow much more to morph into the River Ness.  We could stand on one side and easily see to the other side unhindered.  Unfortunately, we never saw Nessy or her killer baby, but it wasn't for a lack of looking!













Dougie and Cody in DEEP conversation!





On the south banks of the lake sits the Urquhart Castle (pronounced like arq-out). The present ruins date back to the 13th century, and the castle played a major role in the Wars of Scottish Independence.  It's one of the largest castles in Scotland, and it was surreal to explore.  Once you get down into it, it's a lot bigger than it looks from the road and there was a LOT to see and do.  Inside the visitor's center, was an impressive museum and of course, a gift shop.  Everywhere we went in Scotland, Cody and I had fun picking out our families' clans and every now and then we'd buy something that sported the clan name.  I'm now loaded down with Clan Gunn memorabilia, and he has a lot of Clan Stewart.  Not only that, but it was a joy to actually read about our clans in the place that produced our people.  





Devin bought this wool hat and at first I thought it was a waste of many and would get lost or forgotten, but he ended up wearing every day and even sleeping in it.  He then used it as part of his London costume in "Mary Poppins" in June!


















After a couple of hours at Urquhart, we loaded back in the van and headed northwest through Inverness-Shire into the town of Beauly, where we stopped at a midevil abbey called "Beauly Priory."  And just like the cemetery in Wales a few days earlier, this cemetery also provided us the same feeling of reverence.

This is Lallybroch for any Outlander fans out there.














This shop was right across the street from the abbey and I fell in love!
Dougie then drove us all through the Scottish countryside and we ended up at a small roadside farmer's shop that sold cheeses and breads and of course, ale.  We bought some salmon spread and crackers and cheeses and I was tempted to buy a roll of blood pudding, but we'd have no where to cook it so I opted to try and eat some at a restaurant later on.  I loved chatting with the older woman who ran the store, and she loved discovering where we were from and what we'd done on our trip so far.  Outside the shop were a bunch of Scottish Highland Cattle, and they were eager for the kids to pet them.  Hailey was in Heaven and could have stayed there much longer, petting and talking to the animals.




This is an old manor that we passed along the way and oh, how I wanted to go inside and explore!
The next part of the day was much more sober than the first.  We drove out to the Culloden Battlefield, which is where the Scottish Jacobites had their final uprising against the British crown.  It's the equivalent of Gettysburg in the USA as far as tragedy and and from those who've had the chance to visit both places, I hear the feeling is similar in each.  Culloden is nothing but fields that stretch on for miles and we were there at precisely the same time of year wherein the battle was fought in 1746.  I can honestly tell you that those Scotsmen were some of the toughest sons of bitches to ever walk this planet.  As I wandered through the fields and marshes and felt their presence, I thought of them out there in nothing more than kilts and socks and how they didn't just freeze to death is a mystery. 






The red flags represent the British lines, and the blue are the Scottish lines. 



Stone after stone stand in the places where the larger clans fought and fell.  It seemed that the markers went on forever, and it was painful to think that all the mounds of earth that also rippled to infinity are not just mounds of dirt, but rather bodies that were left behind.  Bodies of the fallen.  It was harrowing to contemplate just how many lives were lost that day, and even worse to consider that the British never relented their hold on the Scottish people. But at the same time, it's fascinating to think that many Scots emigrated to the United States a mere thirty years later- Scots who did not fight at Culloden, but who were the sons of men who fought and died.  Many of them came to the Colonies when they got word that a bunch of farmers across the ocean were rising up against the Crown, and they hopped on ships and traveled across the sea to fight the same tyrants who killed their fathers.







This made me laugh.  Jamie Fraser, as wonderful as his character may be, is in fact a FICTIONAL character.  He is not, nor was he ever...real. And yet Dougie said there are always flowers on the Fraser clan marker because women come and pay homage to him!
It was difficult to bring ourselves back from the trance that the battlefield created.  We spent the better part of an hour walking the grounds, but it was freezing and the kids were starving.  We made our way back into the museum and ate lunch in the little cafeteria inside.  I found a bag of haggis flavored crisps, and they were surprisingly good!  I also found this seasoning kit in the specialty foods section and I loved the label. 



Our next stop with Dougie was the Milton of Clava, which is said to be built by relatives of those who built Stonehenge in England.  On the grounds are numerous circles of stones that are believed to bring back loved ones from the dead.  Well, I'll say that if that had been true, I'd have brought Garrett back in an instant.  But as it stood, they were only a legend.  Funny side note and evidence that Dougie fit in with our sarcastic family like a glove:

When we got out of the car, the words "Those are the stones!"  escaped my mouth.  My friend Megan is obsessed with the Outlander books, and she told me about these stones.  So when I saw them, I made a verbal note that I needed to take a picture and take a stick or a rock back to Megan.  However, Dougie only heard the words, "Those are stones!"  come from me. Without that important the, I sounded like an observant idiot, and he looked at me and said, "Well, nothing gets past you, now does it!"

I acted like I was mad and promised I hadn't said that, but he wouldn't back down and it took no time for Cody and Ethan to join in the teasing.  None of them stopped ribbing me the rest of the day and even now, Ethan likes to pipe up and say, "Wow Mom, nothing gets past you!"  when he thinks I'm being Captain Obvious about something.  Ha ha ha.




The day finally drew to an end, and it was time to say goodbye to our fantastic tour guide and new friend.  Dougie dropped us and our bags off at the inn and we said our farwells before heading inside to check it out.  The place was old and adorned in all things tartan and we were instantly in love.  The kids were in one room and we were in the other and this place was so charming that it didn't have magnetic key cards, but actual KEYS.  After dropping our stuff, we set off on foot to do some evening exploration of the town and to this day, Cody and I say we're going back to stay in Inverness-Shire for at least a week because there's no way we'd ever grow tired of the place.  


It was crazy how much in Scotland is "Andrew" something or other.  Quite the common name in those parts!




We'd learned the hard way in England and Wales that restaurants shut down very early so even though we wanted to check out a couple of shops, we decided to grab food first and it was a good thing we did because so much was already closing down.  We ate at a tiny little place called "The Castle Cafe" and of course, my tea was served in this pretty little set and again I asked myself how I would ever go back to drinking tea the boring way when we were home again!  Cody and I both ordered the beef pie (pretty much a Scottish pot pie) and I loved it so much that I order a variation of it any chance I could thereafter.  We also decided to get haggis and blood pudding and while I actually liked the haggis, Cody liked neither.  He said they tasted too much like organ meat (um, that's because it is organ meat) and blood.  Haggis is made like a hamburger patty out of organ meat and what tasted like barely, while blood pudding is akin to cornbread made with blood.  




After dinner, we stopped in "House of Fraser" which is a kilt making shop.  If we'd had the money, Cody and the boys would have been fitted for and purchased kilts.  But as is stood, they were not in the budget so we settled for taking pictures.  We did, however, buy some nice woolen scarves with our various clan tartans, so that sufficed.






It was getting late when we made the walk back to the inn, and all the kids wants to do was go swimming.  Our inn was supposedly one of the few in the region that sported an indoor pool, and the kids couldn't wait to get in.  Yup, we came all the way to Scotland and the kids wanted to swim.  Crazy!  Cody decided to use that time to scout the town while I took the kids down to the pool, and I sat there poolside while they swam for about half an hour and wrote before my laptop battery started to die.  I got up and began looking for an outlet, when the guy working behind the counter asked if he could help me with something.  I opened my mouth and spoke and he lit up like a candle and said, "Hey, you're American, lass!"

I smiled and replied that I was in fact from The States, and that lead to an hour long conversation about America and Scotland and how much everyone there HATES England.  The funny thing that took us little time to discover is that people in Scotland kind of dance around when they meet foreigners, and they're just waiting for the person to say anything...ANYTHING negative about The Motherland.  And the moment they do?  All is fair game after that.  This guy (and I'm mad that I don't remember his name) caught wind that we'd had some difficulty in England and one thing lead to another and before long, he was venting all of his grievances about The Crown.  And grievances there were plenty.  We quickly became friends (even though he remains nameless in my memory) and we talked and talked while the kids swam and when I mimicked something sarcastic with a thick Scottish accent that I thought was terrible, he laughed and said it was actually pretty good.  Ha, that made me feel alright! 

Cody got back just as the pool was closing up and my new friend and I parted ways.  I was sad to say goodbye, but we gathered the kids and took them back to our rooms and got everyone ready for bed.  Cody couldn't stop smiling all the while and finally said, "We've got to go out tonight."  After much deliberation about the stupidity of leaving our children for an hour in their room with the door locked, we decided to leave Ethan in charge while we went out to do some poking around in this city that we'll never forget.  It was the kind of night I want to remember for the rest of my life, and I recall leaving the inn and stepping out into the night and looking at the River Ness bridge right in front of us that was all lit up.  It was a chilly night and we bundled up in our coats and scarves and hats and roamed a few blocks until we came to a pub that was bursting with music and my heart leaped into my throat, and I thought to myself that this kind of thing only exists in novels.  

There we were, two people holding hands as we entered a tiny pub that sits in a town on the edge of the world.  And the sights and sounds and smells did something to me and I came alive and every one of my senses was going mad and for a little while, I stepped outside of my world of heartache and loss and allowed myself to feel happy.  We got our our drinks and found two empty seats at an otherwise occupied table, but the occupants eagerly greeted us and insisted that we join them.  There was a group playing music right beside us and even as I write this, my heart is full and my blood is pounding as I remember what it was like to sit in that pub and sip my pint and absorb the absolute placidity of the night.  Our table consisted of a woman from Greece and her boyfriend who was a gardener down at Oxford University, and another man from Brazil.  As we sat and talked and laughed, Cody and I didn't have a care in the world.  We were not bereaved parents with the weight of the world on our backs.  We were simply a couple in love who had finally been granted the chance to experience a world that was unlike any we'd ever known.





This is how smart men wear kilts.  Running pants and trainers to help you stay warm!




We couldn't stay long because we had children waiting for us to return.  But as the night came to an end, we left the Hootenanny Pub and walked through the village and stopped every block or so to simply look around.  We were in Scotland.  We were in a place that held no reminder of the sad life we'd left behind.  Out there, we could reinvent ourselves and our relationship, and we vowed to one day return. Even now, I think it silly that I ever thought twice about venturing out to Inverness-Shire because it truly was a brilliant day.