Small Gifts

I had to sort of relearn an old lesson recently.

A week ago Sunday was my birthday. The husband and I had an agreement that there'd be no presents. We just bought a refrigerator and I want to go on a weekend trip next month, so I didn't want to spend the money. It's better that way anyway. I learned with my husband long ago that he gets really stressed out picking gifts. That used to mean that he'd overthink it and I wouldn't get anything. The first few years, I found this royally upsetting. But then, I realized that I'd rather have someone who is thoughtful every other day of the year than someone who makes a big deal once a year. My husband is the kind that gets down on the floor and plays with the kids, the kind who folds laundry without complaining, and the kind who'll take my car to get washed just because. I've learned to really appreciate that sort of generosity of spirit.

Most of my friends have switched to email and ecards. Which is fine, I do it too. But there's nothing to open. And I'm sort of a bit over-the-top about my birthday and I love to have a present to open.

But, because of that, I was sort of counting on my family to come through with birthday acknowledgements--presents, cards, the like. First was a call from my mother-in-law, letting me know that she was sending me something, but it'd be a little late. But there was still my parents and sister, right? Saturday's mail came and went, with no cards, no presents, no anything.

I admit it, I let it get to me. In fact, I sort of got in a funk about it. So when they called on my actual birthday, I didn't pick up the phone and talk to them. It was such an immature thing to do and honestly, it didn't make me feel any better. But I was nursing my little hurt. I am not at all proud of how I felt and how I let it affect me.

And then birthday night, my girlfriend who I was hoping would go to Santa Fe with me had to beg off. Husband said he'd go, but that meant lining up a babysitter for the weekend. His parents are willing to help, but they're in their 80s now and two active boys for four days is just too much. I had talked to my mom about it and she said she could probably come, but it turned out she had a conflict she had forgotten. So it looked like the must-anticipated trip was a no-go.

And then the phone rang. "I'll come and babysit." So declared my recently-retired father. "You know I don't cook and I don't do laundry or make beds or do dishes, but I do drive and I can get them places on time. If they can eat at IHOP or the fried shrimp place all weekend, I'm your sitter."

And it was so sweet. It seriously almost brought tears to my eyes--that he was willing to drop everything and come down just because he wanted me to be able to do something I wanted to do. And I realized yet again that I am surrounded by people in my life who are warm and caring and thoughtful, and really that's my gift. Not some box with a pretty bow, with yet another pair of earrings.

Family Roles

Big brother is away at sleepaway Marine Biology camp, so little brother is playing at being only brother. It's been fun to see him, usually the go-along kid, get to direct the action. We've gone out a bit, but mainly we've stayed home. He's gotten to always play the wii games he wants to play, and there's no competition--whatever score he gets is the best score of the day. He's loving it. I've cooked his favorite foods and he's gotten to choose what's on TV. He's living large and in-charge.

The fact that he's gotten to switch roles a bit this week reminded me how within a family no one experiences situations and events the same way. We all have our assigned roles and personal experiences that color each and every event. Whatever the truth is, how you as a person experience that event becomes your truth. And that often comes up against other people's truths. It's one factor influencing how siblings can turn out so differently.

I stopped posting personal stuff for a while (well stopped posting) because my mom told me my aunt G was reading my blog. I wasn't sure how I felt about that, because I sometimes use this space for hashing out my internal thoughts and some of those thoughts have to do with family. I didn't really want any family member to think I was unfairly criticizing another. And then I realized, I talk about how I experience situations from my point of view. Someone else's will necessarily be different. But as long as I make it clear that I'm discussing my unique feelings and my unique truth, I can no longer worry about how others receive that information. This is part of my ongoing and long-term struggle to refuse to be responsible for anyone else's emotional health (except for the way I try to help my children).

My sister and I just last night were discussing a childhood event and how we both came away from it having absorbed very different lessons. Much of that difference had to to do with our ages and our different roles within the family. The event was the same, but how we processed it and made it our own was very different. It's had lasting impact on both our lives, but it's been a very different impact.

I'm not sure that's revolutionary or even particularly insightful, but I do think it's fascinating. And Aunt G. if you're reading this, you're welcome to say hi in the comments.

Olive Kitteridge

I don't recommend books all that often. But I found this one by Elizabeth Strout to be worth recommending.

It won the 2009 Pulitzer and I'll have to say, I think it deserves it. A lot of contemporary fiction bogs down and flags toward the end and this one continues strong all the way through, unfolding and enlightening as we learn more about Olive and her fellow Mainers.

The right decision was made by the author to tell Olive's story through connected short stories, rather than as a novel. Olive is a difficult, complicated person and too much of her would have been, well, too much. But she makes an appearance in each of the stories, albeit sometimes just as a thought in people's minds--as a 7th grade math teacher she has had a long-lasting influence on a lot of people. And the characters in the stories are all strong and memorable as well.

I just read a book of short stories by John Updike and I was tired, tired, tired of the sameness of the characters by the end of the book. Almost every story on its own was well done, but as a collection, it was too much the same tale told many ways. In Olive Kitteridge, the characters are varied, from different points in time, and this adds to the many dimensions of the book. She manages this even though, like Updike, all the characters are rooted in a small New England town. Her characters are fuller.

Olive is multi-dimensional and like all of us, neither completely good nor utterly bad. Although neighbors don't understand what her husband sees in her, the two do have an affection that sees them through. She is there for him to the end in a way that many other spouses would not have been.

That said, I almost gasped when I read Olive's son confront her about her inability to apologize. That's something I've struggled with in my own life, as my mother also cannot utter the words "I'm sorry." I couldn't quite believe that someone else had picked up on what a barrier this can be for someone. I think it's just one of the saddest things about mom, as I believe that ability to acknowledge when you've hurt others and then attempt to atone is at the basic core of successful relationships. Without it, you cannot be truly close to others. I've also struggled with whether to confront her about it, and have always decided not to, as at this point, I think it's unrealistic to expect her to change. (btw, I'm not completely comparing my mother and Olive as my mother is much more likeable and warm and supportive and has many positive traits. But this is an unfortunate one they share.)

We get very little hint of what childhood events shaped Olive, and she herself does not believe in therapy or that level of self-reflection. But that confrontation with her son does lead to a deepening self-awareness and a bit of growth.

Anyway, it's a lovely book and I think you should read it too and come back and discuss.

Communication

I realize it's been a while since I posted. Doing lots of thinking on things, but somehow not wanting to write it down. But recently the issue of communication and couple role-shifting has led me to write this actual post. I understand if it's a shock.

My father, after 42 years as a physician and 35 years in one hospital, retired this summer. We have all been eagerly anticipating the day, as the daily grind and the hospital politics were wearing on him more and more each month.

So now that the time is here, he's like a kid who has been let loose in a candy shop. Although instead of tasting from every bin, he wants to go and do all the things he's been denied from all those 12-hour days and weekends on call. He wants to travel (at a breakneck schedule, it seems) and go all the places he's dreamed of since he was a boy.

And for that first little bit, he wanted to go out to lunch. Everyday. Every day for the first two weeks. And it probably goes back to the fact that for all those years, he never could really do what people in office jobs could do, things like going out to lunch, so that's what he wanted to do. But my mother didn't. So she bought sandwich meat for him to try and distract him (she eats yogurt). Needless to say, the package of turkey in the fridge did not seem that exciting to him, so they ended up going out, but she was grumbling about it--about the expense and about the time involved. And my sister and I would counsel her to just relax--he wasn't going to want to go out to lunch every day for the rest of his life, but he did right now. But she was still upset about it (not in a big way, but in that thorn-in-the-side way).

Suddenly, I realized that this was not about lunch, but at core all about how they were readjusting to each other. Their roles are shifting. All of a sudden, he was there. In the house. All day, every day. After decades of not being there. He'd know if she spent the afternoon reading a book. Truthfully, he wouldn't care, but she felt guilty like somehow she should be doing something more important. When in reality, he was in the other room reading too....and could care less that she was reading. But yet, her space was being intruded on--and having to adjust her lunch routine was symbolic of this alien invader that was her husband of 45 years.

We just are back from a week at a beach house, celebrating my dad's retirement and enjoying the summer. And each of them at different times would complain about the other. My dad thinks mom needs to get organized. My mom things my dad is just going a bit nutty. And with each of them, I'd listen a bit, make sympathetic noises and try to redirect them back to the other. My mom is 66 years old and she's never going to be organized. Her scatteredness is part of who she is and dad is going to have to accept it (or drive them both crazy). And she's going to have to realize that he now has more say over her day-to-day life. He wants her to be a part of his days now, instead of just evenings and weekends, and listen--that's pretty incredible, that after 45 years he wants them to still spend time together.

But it's also pretty incredible to me that after 45 years of marriage, they don't know how to communicate their basic needs to each other. Talking to them is a bit like talking to a 13 year old just trying to figure out that whole boy-girl stuff. They will have to learn how to actually talk in a non-emotional, supportive way...and I fully expect a bit of a rocky period here for a while.

I guess life is like that. I've been part of a couple myself for more than 20 years, and our roles have shifted quite a few times already. And even though I'm part of a generation that values communication, figuring out how to talk to my husband in an appropriate way--in a way that iterates what I need without making him feel undervalued--has been tricky (and we've both screwed that up at times). I hope my parents successfully negotiate this set of landmines.

Short Story Recs

Hey, book peeps, got any short story recommendations for me?

I have just worked my way through the entire short story collection of Sherlock Holmes while reading my Kindle at the gym. I've also recently read some stories by Kate Chopin, Isaac Asimov, Peter Tremayne and am currently reading the amazing Unaccustomed Earth by Jhumpa Lahiri (highly recommended by me). Short stories really work for me at the gym and I need something that will keep me moving and not noticing the minutes going by. All suggestions welcome!

So What Are You Doing Today?

I should know that these words are often code for "Can you do me a favor?" Really, I should have it all figured out by now. But somehow, the last two days I've been caught out surprised.

Today, a friend called and asked me to pick up a hot lunch for her son and bring it to the school. It's his birthday and she wanted to surprise him. Yesterday, a different friend wanted me to go by her house, use her hideakey, and rummage around until I found her daughter's gymnastics leotard and bring it when I went to pick the kids up from school. These are not really isolated incidents. I find myself at times picking up forgotten medicine, driving kids other than my own to dance and art and music, picking up friends' sick kids from school, and running by the store for the snack for OM practice that someone else was supposed to bring.

That's part of the deal of when you're primarily a stay-at-home mom, I guess. Everyone thinks you're available to do all the errands and the carpool and whatever needs to be done during the day. To be fair, many of my friends are teachers and it is basically impossible for them to leave work if something has been forgotten that morning. And honestly, I don't really begrudge the time. I tried working full- and part- time after my kids were born and I never really found the balance that worked. Instead, my being at home and picking up occasional freelance writing projects works for my family. Life is less hectic and less crazy without both of us working. And, although we have to be careful and watch what we spend, we do have the means to live on one income and save a bit for retirement and college and still take the occasional vacation. We're lucky.

And that means I have enough time and energy for what needs to be done for my family and a little bit more to share. That's actually something I celebrate. One of my good friends is resigning her teaching job to stay home with her son and homeschool him next year. As I dropped off his lunch today, I said, "next year, you'll be the one getting these frantic calls instead of making them. You watch." She just laughed......and said she couldn't wait.

Twitter my tweets

So I never really got into facebook or myspace, but I am playing with twitter a bit.

If you want to follow me, check me out here. That's one of my other aliases....because why not make it as confusing as possible? The irony of that handle is that I have since given up lattes, so I guess my truth in advertising should be princessdriproast, but it doesn't have the same ring, does it?