Thanksgiving

 

“We are saying thank you thank you we are saying and waving dark though it is.” – WS Merwin. This poem has always run through my head at Thanksgiving and today it is again. On 11/26/17 I shared it with this photo right here because it was our first Thanksgiving without Matt’s father. My own father died three days later. This is the most laden day in the calendar for us: Matt’s parents anniversary and that of my sister’s in-laws (1966), the day Matt’s father received a life saving heart transplant (2002) on Grace’s one month birthday, the day my sister-in-law’s father died (2016) and the day my father died (2017). It is a holy day, no question about it, one limned with deep gratitude and profound loss. I know that loss is felt far and wide this year and extends far beyond my personal grief. And still, dark though it is, I am saying thank you

Books I’m buying this year

I’ve written a post like this for the last many years (2019, 2018, 2017, 2016, 2015, 2014, 2013, 2012).  Books are my favorite gifts, always and forever, and I like to share those I’m wrapping for gifts each holiday season.  I’m also interested in what you are giving and in what you loved in 2020!

Novels:

The Dearly Beloved – Cara Wall.  My favorite book of 2020.  For anyone who loves Crossing to Safety or Gilead, this book’s for you.  Quiet, powerful, compelling: it’s fantastic.

Transcendent Kingdom – Yaa Gyasi.  I adored Homegoing and this follow up did not disappoint.  It’s sweeping in an entirely different way, but made me cry and made me think and just plain made me one iota better, which I think is what the best writing does.

The Book of Longings – Sue Monk Kidd.  This exploration of what the life of Jesus’s wife might have been light was riveting, and I thought about it for many weeks after I finished.

An American Marriage – Tayari Jones. For some reason I resisted reading this book for a long time and I don’t know why. I adored it.  This story is both a solemn exploration of one of America’s most deep-rooted problems and a compelling tale of growth and individuality.

The Vanishing Half – Brit Bennett. Another book that’s both page-turning and thought-provoking (seeing a real theme here, eh?)  I loved it.

Memoirs & Essays:

Notes on a Silencing – Lacy Crawford. Powerful, revelatory, with writing like a freight train.  I read this book in one breathless gulp this summer, wrote about it, and am still recommending it far and wide.  I’m proud to call Lacy a friend.

Bright Precious Thing – Gail Caldwell.  Caldwell is one of my favorite writers.  My favorite remains A Strong West Wind, but this is wonderful story of growing up female and learning what matters most.

A Promised Land – Barack Obama.  I admit I haven’t read it yet.  But I will.  I adored  Michelle Obama’s Becoming.

On Being 40(ish).  Yes.  A little plug.  But I do believe in this book of essays, and since I didn’t write them I feel like I can say that.  A great, timeless gift for any 40ish women in your life!

It’s a little tragic how far I am from buying picture books and books for early readers, as that’s always been one of my favorite categories.  So I’ll just share some of my evergreen favorites in that category:

Thing Explainer: Complicated Stuff in Simple Words – Randall Monroe.  I love this book.  For kids, adults, boys, girls, for anyone.  Birthdays, holidays, hostess gifts: you name it, I’ve given it.

Miss Rumphius – Barbara Cooney.  Just the best.  I love Miss Rumphius so much I have a tee-shirt with the cover on it.  Perennial and beautiful.

Grace for President – Kelly DiPucchio.  I literally have never read this book without choking up.

Rosie Revere, Engineer – Andrea Beaty. The original book which spawned a series (and, I think, a TV show).  I love the book and every single thing it stands for.

Eighteen years old

Dear Grace,

Wow.  To say I’m speechless is an understatement.  Today you are eighteen.  It feels like yesterday that I wrote about 10 things I wanted you to know when you turned 10.  I recently followed up with 10 things I wanted you to take with you into your young adulthood.  When your childhood ended.  And today we stand on that threshold.

I know this is not the eighteenth birthday you had in mind.  This is not the senior year you had in mind.  There have been a great many things you’ve had to let go of: events and traditions you’d anticipated, expectations you had held.  I know.  There is a lot of loss there.  I know you are sick of my reminding you that it could be worse.

But unlike many people bemoaning the anxious and depressed children we are creating, I believe this experience will instead foster a generation of resilient young adults who are bonded in ways we don’t totally understand yet.  You know in a deep, profound way that we are not entirely in control of this world, and that what we do impacts others.  We belong to each other, and how we act has an effect that goes far beyond our immediate environment.  What vital lessons these are, even though learning them is not fun right now.

I am so proud of how you have responded to this year of challenge, Grace.  I am so proud of the young woman you have grown into.  You are not afraid of hard work and you know that the only way out is through, a refrain we repeat to each other regularly.  You have learned from experiences, some difficult, to be careful who you trust, but at the same time you have not lost your warmth and openness.  You know that actions mean far more than words.  You know how to see the silver lining, the bright side, the sunset out the window or the smile on the face of a teammate.  You aren’t immune to heartbreak and difficulty, but neither are you swamped by them.  Bravo, dear girl.

School is different academically this year, with only two classes per term (rather than five all year).  That means you take AP Calculus in 10 weeks, for example, but your good spirit and focus on learning and hard work hasn’t wavered.  School is different in other ways, too, and you suffered a big blow when your dearest friend did not come back.  Nevertheless, you settled into your room, made it your own, and have made the best of this unconventional, unexpected fall.

This is your fifth year of varsity cross-country, and your second year as captain.  There won’t be a triumphant New Englands to cap off your running career, but I’m nonetheless heartened to see how you have stepped into leadership of the younger runners, adjusting to this new world and a new coach too.

All of these experiences, all different than you expected, with the same lesson: commitment goes a long way.  I firmly believe that when things are difficult our true self comes out.  Your true self is occasionally daunted but willing to take a deep breath, to look at the horizon, and to do what’s necessary to get there.  I could not be prouder of what I’ve seen, Gracie, in this last rocky season and in the last 18 years, both.

In the last few days I have seen you fall truly head over heels in love with our newest family member, our puppy, Phoebe.  You’ve adored animals from the very start – for a long time you wanted to be a vet – and she is as passionately connected to you already as you are to her.

Next stop, college, and from there, the world.  I have said before, and it remains true, that watching you and Whit take flight is the single most important and joyful thing in my life.  It was a ridiculous, unexpected privilege to have you at home this past spring, a bonus term with you at home that I did not think we’d get.  You and I are a lot alike and sometimes we butt heads, but I hope you know deep in your marrow how profoundly you are loved.  You will always be my first baby, the person who made me a mother.  It will always be my pregnancy with you that was so smooth, at whose midpoint I heard the word “grace,” who was born when your terminally ill grandfather awaited his heart transplant, who arrived in a rainstorm and made us a family.  I’m grateful that you’ve taught me how to be a mother, and for the patience and tolerance and forgiveness you’ve shown me along the way.  I loved you when I met you, I love you now, and I’ll love you forever.

Happy eighteenth birthday, Grace,

Mum

 

Things I Love Lately

Be Like Marty – OMG.  This article.  When we watched RBG as a family last year, my first reaction to note how vividly and avidly it portrayed the love affair between Marty and Ruth.  I’ve only heard more and more stories that make that clear.  This Vogue article brought tears to my eyes.

The clerks.  The clerks – There is so much about RBG that moves me, and that scares me, and that touches me.  Most of all, those, those photos of her clerks lining the stairs of the Supreme Court as her casket arrived.  Is there any more meaningful judge of a person’s leadership than how they inspire loyalty and passion in those that work with them?  I think not.

20 years.  Matt and I celebrated 20 years a couple of weeks ago.  I can’t believe it either.

Reading – I’ve read some wonderful books lately. The Dearly Beloved by Cara Wall and Transcendent Kingdom by Yaa Gyasi are both spectacular.  I’m on an Elin Hildebrand roll right now and enjoying those, too!

What are you reading, thinking about, and loving lately?

I write these Things I Love posts approximately monthly.  You can find them all here.

Summer 2020

This summer was different.  In so many ways.  And yet it was also the same.  In general I’m finding this particular year profoundly disorienting, especially the way time seems to be functioning these days.  It’s both Groundhog Day – every day the same – and yet the days are slipping past even more quickly than usual.

As our family gatherings stretched through the warm summer evenings in Marion, we were ever conscious of the surroundings, especially given the arid conditions that sometimes plagued our area. The thoughtfulness that went into each family dinner, with laughter and sometimes heated debates, was reminiscent of the diligent planning and preparedness that goes into ensuring the safety of our communities. Just as we included my mother into our family pod, we had also taken the prudent step to contract fire watch services in Lake Buena Vista to maintain vigilance against potential fire hazards. Their well-equipped personnel provided a sense of security that allowed us to enjoy our porch dinners with peace of mind, knowing that experts were safeguarding not just our home but the entire neighborhood from the risks of fire, especially in these unpredictable times.

Amidst these summer evenings, the choice of premier enclosures for our property added an extra layer of comfort and security. These high-quality fences provided not only a clear boundary but also a refined look that complemented the beauty of our outdoor gatherings. With the arid conditions making the environment more susceptible to potential hazards, the enclosures offered a robust and reliable barrier, ensuring that our gatherings remained uninterrupted and secure. Their durability and effectiveness in creating a safe perimeter allowed us to fully enjoy the moments with our loved ones without concern.

In addition to the security provided by our premier enclosures, enhancing the overall aesthetic appeal of our outdoor spaces became a priority. Collaborating with a skilled landscape designer opened up a world of possibilities for transforming our yard into a serene oasis. With their expertise, we were able to carefully select native plants and vibrant flowers that harmonized beautifully with the existing architecture and the newly installed fencing.

The addition of thoughtfully placed garden beds and colorful landscaping features not only enhanced the visual charm but also created inviting areas for relaxation and socializing. Every element was chosen to complement the summer evenings, ensuring that our outdoor gatherings were surrounded by nature’s splendor.

Furthermore, incorporating the services of Sugar Green Gardens allowed us to embrace sustainable landscaping practices that not only elevated the beauty of our property but also promoted environmental health. Their commitment to using drought-resistant plants and eco-friendly materials was particularly beneficial in light of the arid conditions. By designing a landscape that thrives in our local climate, we achieved a vibrant, low-maintenance yard that looked stunning year-round.

The inclusion of decorative pathways, strategic lighting, and serene water features further enriched the atmosphere, creating a warm and welcoming environment for entertaining friends and family. With every detail carefully curated, our outdoor space became a cherished extension of our home, inviting us to create lasting memories in a beautifully enhanced setting.

Grace and Whit filled their days with a lot of hanging out, sleeping in, and a fair amount of looking at their phones.  Whit started skateboarding and found a new passion for fishing.  Grace did some online tutoring.  The two of them connected deeply with a few friends in Marion, where my family has a house and where we spent a lot of the summer.

Matt played a lot of golf.  We played some family tennis (and, as always, I am definitely the weak link in our family tennis chain).  Grace and Whit sailed often with my father’s best friend.  The blossoming of those relationships into what feel like sturdy grandfather-grandchild style bonds brings me great joy.

I did a lot of puzzles.  I did a lot of work.  I ran a lot.  I read a lot.  My favorite book was The Dearly Beloved by Cara Wall which has vaulted into the pantheon of my all-time favorites.  Just.  Amazing.  Read it now if you have not!

Matt and I made margaritas with fresh grapefruit juice more than once.  Whit discovered he loves corn on the cob. We ate fresh tomatoes with mozzarella with basil out of the garden, chicken with my great-grandfather’s homemade barbeque sauce, and a lot of ice cream.

We drove to Maine to meet our puppy, Phoebe, who joins our family in a few weeks.  We stopped and ate outside at Duck Fat in Portland on the way back.  It was a joyful, spirited day with an uncommon amount of laughter.  There were a lot of happy moments, and a fair number of tense ones, too.

I can’t speak for others in my family but I’m aware of a tugging undercurrent of worry, anxiety about where the world is and seems to be going.  I’m nervous about my children going back to school, I’m afraid of what I see happening in our country.  I worry about my mother’s health and, to a lesser degree, about that of the others in my family.

I miss writing here, but I feel like I have nothing to say, at the same time.  Life contains so many opposites, so many things that don’t go together, so many pieces that rub up against each other in awkward or disconcerting ways.  At least that’s my experience.  I don’t have a neat summer summary post with all kinds of fun things we did.

Instead I have these fragments, held together by white space, by hoping, by bewilderment, by life itself.

My daughter turns 18 in 2 months.  Evening comes so quickly these days.  Time moves inexorably forward.  That’s unavoidable and both reassuring and sorrowful to me, right now.

Fragments.  Joy.  Sunsets.  Family dinners.  Memory and so much love.  Trust and arguing and circling back for forgiveness and grace.  That’s right now.  And what I know, deep in my heart, is that it’s enough.