weekends

time is a funny thing. i am fortunate to have a partner who reminds me frequently that death comes... always. i did not put quotation marks around fortunate -- i meant it straight up. it is not easy to live one's life as if today and perhaps the near future need to matter. we live often in wait. in wait for what we want, "killing time" with amusements. while my partner is not really referring to how people waste time in the little ways (heck we all need a little down time), but referring to the big picture and how we make it happen every day. what is that we want to be doing with our big units of time and opportunity. these are serious questions to live by. i am 39 about to be 40 in little over a month. i don't foresee crises or upheaval around the transiiton. but i hope it reminds me that we all have limited time and need to be living our values and hopes.

sometimes this all seems hard to recall. i realize it is only this summer that i started snapping at the children. before this summer, i had not yelled at them more than a couple of times. this has changed unfortunately. at one level, it makes me human, on the other i realize that i am stressed and anxious. r's issues this past year have been stressful. ruskin is on the job market and that is stressful. k is working through autonomy. my work has its ups and downs. for the most part, however, things are better than earlier in the year. we are hopeful. but the grind of the day makes it sometime difficult to remember and appreciate all of this.

and yet i do remember that i am fortunate to have the wonderful family and friends (including generous and loving parents and a funny determined and gentle brother who are too far away, a mother-not-in-law whom i truly respect for her insight and warmth who never visits long enough, a smart and sentimental sister and kind, humorous, and sensible brother-not-in-law who live close by and yet seldom get to see, long-term friends who understand with a few words). how is it that the little details of the day makes one forget the significance of each moment?

recently my aunt lost her husband. my friend marie just lost a close and dear friend. her friend wrote a blog while she was dying and wrote about her life, parenting, and her impending death. she cherished every moment precisely because she knew it could be her last. these experiences and ruskin remind me to be mindful. i know what i shall cherish in my final memories -- it will be r and his big smile while telling stories, it is waking up with k in the morning. it is the lavish hugs and kisses i receive from them. it is the way they smell, their quiet peaceful breathing as they rest tired minds and bodies at night, k's dance in her chair as she eats noodles she loves, having to feed r the same noodles because he is too tired to focus and feed himself, it is being hopeful about their futures, feeling their hands in mine, trusting me to lead them to what is best. each of these moments passes and new experiences take their place. stages happen and development continues -- nursing ends, lies begin. and yet, the memories, i hope, will remain with me as i watch them grow into strong capable individuals each so autonomous and beautiful in her/his own way. i try to remember to enjoy it. i try to remember to make it good for them and for me. i try to teach them what i know while i can; teach them to live by values, to hold strong and fast to the belief of a fair and just world, to teach them ways to make the world closer to our hopes and dreams. someday one of us (and hopefully me first) will not be here and what will matter are these memories and the little ways i have passed on a way to see one's life, the planet, and our limited time on it.

as i said earlier friday night was hard. but the rest of the weekend was much better. r and k had some rest and i had some nice times with them. we colored and cleaned and played on saturday. then we headed to an art fair where we bought r another fish hat. sunday we had breakfast and then went and played at a cafe with auntie sarah. r had a wonderful time with her, crawling into her lap and hugging her repeatedly. naps and baths and dinner and books. he and i cuddled on the couch and read about a dozen books -- some serious and scientific, some silly and funny, others in between. we read about a story about a boy named ravi who asks his nana all about india. his nana tells him about the hot sun, the monsoon rains, the elephants, and the wind. it is a lovely book. the boy dreams about india and playing a flute and dancing with an elephant. we read a book about an african american girl who takes her grandma to see a chinese new year parade with a dancing dragon. her father has volunteered to be part of the dragon, and the girl has learned a great deal about chinese new year from her teacher and she teaches her grandmother. they both watch the parade and enjoy the celebration sharing it with all of their neighbors.