Category Archives: Family and Friends

Inspiration from family and friends

Astronauts, writers and turning 52

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Feeling ready to do something doesn’t mean feeling certain you’ll succeed, though of course that’s what you’re hoping to do. Truly being ready means understanding what could go wrong – and having a plan to deal with it . . . Being forced to confront the prospect of failure head-on – to study it, dissect it, tease apart all its components and consequences – really works. After a few years of doing that pretty much daily, you’ve forged the strongest possible armor to defend against fear: hard-won competence.
– Chris Hadfield, from An Astronaut’s Guide to Life on Earth

Susan Ruiz, friend and fellow mom from our elementary school, recommended to me a book she’d read that provided valuable lessons in parenting. An Astronaut’s Guide to Life on Earth was written and published last year by Chris Hadfield, a Canadian astronaut whose viewing of Neil Armstrong’s walk on the moon set his life path in motion as a then nine-year-old. His goal was to become an astronaut, even though at the time the Canadian Space Agency did not exist. He forged on at first on faith and then by exploring every opportunity that he faced or mined. I’ve only read 80 pages out of the approximately 280 pages of the book, but I already feel compelled to blog about it because something I had read on the plane on my way to our company’s annual conference this past Sunday struck a chord with me. It was a timely, serendipitous moment.

Philosophy in the clouds.

Philosophy in the clouds.

Acknowledging my stress
I’d finished proofing my manuscript the week before and updated the query letter that I would soon be sending out to literary agents. I’d already sent out the synopsis to a former classmate of mine, awaiting the green light that would allow me to send the entire manuscript to him. I was also getting ready for the conference. And lastly, I was turning 52, which happened yesterday – an event that was going to happen away from my home and my family. You could say I was a little stressed out.

So there I was on the packed airplane, having snagged a coveted window seat, with the book on my lap for uninterrupted hours of reading. By then, I had already acknowledged my stress over the fate of the manuscript. As I lamented to a few friends, in particular my friend, Jack, all these years I had soldiered on to finish the novel and write the best novel I could. Many times what kept me going, when I was despairing that I would never finish it, was the fact that I could beat down that despair and actually finish it. I visualized the moment when I would finish it and celebrate that victorious moment against all odds. Other times, and more often, I just kept going because I couldn’t imagine not going forward after all, not finishing after all.

I am also a control freak. And I relished being in the driver’s seat. I could control finishing it. But once it was done, I was left in that uncomfortable position of having to relinquish control. Now it would be up to a literary agent who may spend a few minutes poring over the query letter, synopsis, and the first few pages of the manuscript, and either get pulled in or not. A sick feeling formed in my gut, again, which I had remembered and resurrected, after forgetting that sensation the last time I had finished a draft and sent it out. It was not unlike the survival-of-the-species mechanism of forgetting intense labor pains in order to procreate again. Once you neared giving birth, you all of a sudden remember the pain from the first labor. The sick feeling was understanding that I would spend years working on something and being in control, only to give it up and let others decide my fate.

More clouds for thinking heady thoughts.

More clouds for thinking heady thoughts.

Words of wisdom: never lose attitude
And then the serendipitous moment occurred. I read a section of Hadfield’s book that put everything I was feeling into perspective:

“Getting to space depends on many variables and circumstances that are entirely beyond an individual astronaut’s control, so it always made sense to me to view space flight as a bonus, not as entitlement. And like any bonus, it would be foolhardy to bank on it. Fortunately, there’s plenty to keep astronauts engaged and enthusiastic about the job…. I’ve never met anyone who doesn’t feel it’s a job full of dreams.

“Taking the attitude that I might never get to space – and then, after I did get there, that I might never go back – helped me hold onto that feeling for more than two decades. Because I didn’t hang everything – my sense of self-worth, my happiness, my professional identity – on space flight, I was excited to go to work every single day, even during the 11 years after my second mission when I didn’t fly and was, at one point, told definitively that I never would again (more on that later).

“It sounds strange, probably, but having a pessimistic view of my own prospects helped me love my job. I’d argue it even had a positive effect on my career: because I love learning new things, I volunteered for a lot of extra classes, which bulked up my qualifications, which in turn increased my opportunities at NASA. However, success, to me, never was and still isn’t about lifting off in a rocket (though that sure felt like a great achievement). Success is feeling good about the work you do throughout the long, unheralded journey that may or may not wind up at the launch pad. You can’t view training solely as a stepping stone to something loftier. It’s got to be an end in itself.

“In space flight, ‘attitude’ refers to orientation: which direction your vehicle is pointing relative to the Sun, Earth and other spacecraft. If you lost control of your attitude, two things happen: the vehicle starts to tumble and spin, disorienting everyone on board, and it also strays from its course, which, if you’re short on time or fuel, could mean the difference between life and death. In the Soyuz, for example, we use every cue from every available source – periscope, multiple sensors, the horizon – to monitor our attitude constantly and adjust if necessary. We never want to lose attitude since maintaining attitude is fundamental to success.

“In my experience, something similar is true on Earth. Ultimately, I don’t determine whether I arrive at the desired professional destination. Too many variables are out of my control. There’s really just one thing I can control: my attitude during the journey, which is what keeps me feeling steady and stable, and what keeps me headed in the right direction. So I consciously monitor and correct, if necessary, because losing attitude would be far worse than not achieving my goal.”

My room with a view in Orlando.

My room with a view in Orlando.

Applying wisdom to me
Now I will admit that I was skeptical when I read this section. I thought to myself, “Really? He had wanted to be an astronaut since age nine and I’m to believe that if he’d never gone to space he would have been happy with his life?” I think I even used the word “failure” when I told my friend, Jack, about the section. Granted, I was finishing up my first glass of wine at our company event last night.

I easily transferred his words and situation to my own. Was writing the novel victory enough because it took more than 16 years to finish? Was it enough to feel such a high and to feel empowered and truly happy when I was finding the right word, phrase, or sentence to capture the moment in the novel, to capture what my protagonist was feeling at the time, to capture the arc of the scene or the chapter? Would I feel a failure if a literary agent didn’t love it and fight for it, if a book editor didn’t excitedly shepherd it through the publishing process, if the marketers didn’t ensure its success by backing it with marketing dollars, if reviewers didn’t write glowingly of it in major publications, and if readers didn’t rush to buy it and share with their book clubs?

Years ago, Jack once quoted Hemingway, who said – and I’m paraphrasing and therefore likely butchering the original quote – that he wrote to be read, for what is the use if nobody reads your words? When I was much younger, I used to write but not want to show anybody what I wrote because I was too afraid of what people would think and fearful of criticism. Since then, I’ve written and continue to write, wanting very much for others to read it and get something out of it. That still means a lot to me.

Fortunately, the publishing world has changed dramatically since even late 2005-early 2006, when a version of the novel was rejected so many times. There’s online publishing. There are ways to get read. There are platforms, venues, and channels that upend the old way of being read. So do I need to go through the traditional route? Do I feel the need to face potentially more rejection and punishment? No. But am I going forth expecting such a reaction? Hadfield gave me new eyes into this part of the journey.

I love to write. Period. I know I will have an audience, but the size of the audience is not something I can predict. How do I want to get to the next leg of my journey? Hadfield stares fear in the face because it’s not really fear. For one, if you prepare yourself, you’re not facing fear. You are in control, and whatever the outcome, you will know how to react. And if you love to write and you have been writing for years, you have already led a fulfilling life. And you will continue to lead a fulfilling life.

As I turned 52 yesterday – not with my family but with my good friends and colleagues from work – I had given myself an invaluable, intangible but very real present (as did my friend, Susan!). Happy birthday, indeed.

My friends, or "frolleagues," celebrating my birthday in Orlando!

My friends, or “frolleagues,” celebrating my birthday in Orlando!

Treat your mother, daughter, or both to Lunafest

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The more a daughter knows the details of her mother’s life . . . the stronger the daughter.
– Anita Diamant, American journalist and novelist, from The Red Tent

Last week I gave a well-deserved plug for Lunafest, the traveling award-winning short film festival “by, for and about women,” which will be shown at the El Cerrito High School’s Performing Arts Center on Saturday, March 8th, at 7:30pm. Lunafest seeks to “connect women through film,” which not only makes it a great Ladies’ Night Out but a wonderful Mother/Daughter Night Out, too.

Karen Grassle with my friend, Lisa, and her starstruck daughter Savanna, both of whom are fans of Little House on the Prairie.

At last year’s Lunafest: Actress Karen Grassle with my friend, Lisa Harris, and her starstruck daughter Savanna, both of whom are fans of Little House on the Prairie.

In our efforts as mothers to build well-rounded daughters, we expose them to various cultural, intellectual, political, social, and other events. We help build strong girls to become independent and creative thinkers, doers, and humanitarians by showing them what other women have created – be it a book, a piece of artwork, a play or film, a set of songs, a humanitarian or environmental initiative, and so on – and celebrating those achievements. Because Lunafest’s films are “by, for and about women,” the festival is an ideal event for our daughters to learn what is possible in the realm of filmmaking, an industry that has been dominated by men since its inception. It celebrates the myriad voices and experiences of women, which informs their life stories and makes their storytelling unique.

For us adult daughters, taking our mothers to Lunafest is a way to acknowledge and celebrate our role models for their hand in developing our appreciation for beauty in its many forms. We are also activists and fundraisers when we attend. Established in 2000 by LUNA, makers of the Whole Nutrition Bar for Women, the film festival raises funds for its main beneficiary, The Breast Cancer Fund, a national organization dedicated to “preventing breast cancer by eliminating our exposure to toxic chemicals and radiation linked to the disease.” Many of us have mothers, mothers-in-law, and grandmothers who fought breast cancer. Attending Lunafest acknowledges their struggles and successes, as well as honors their memories.

Catherine van Campen by her film poster for Flying Anne.

At the San Francisco Lunafest premiere: Catherine van Campen by the poster of her short film, Flying Anne.

When organizations across the country host their Lunafest film festival, they also support local nonprofit groups. So when you attend and bring either your daughter or mother or both, you and your family are supporting a community-wide fundraising event. The Lunafest East Bay Organizing Committee, in its seventh year, is also raising funds for the El Cerrito Community Foundation and El Cerrito High School’s Information Technology Academy, a small learning community supported by the nonprofit organization, TechFutures. ITA integrates core academic classes with the technology field, comprising digital art, web design, and computer systems management.

So bring your daughter and invite your mom. Bond with them over nine wonderful short films. Treat them to a cookie, cupcake, or vegan ice cream sandwich and decaffeinated coffee, courtesy of local women bakers and businesswomen. Most of all, have fun.

You can purchase your tickets here. You can reach out to me to purchase your tickets. Prices are $50 VIP (for the pre-event reception), $20 general, $5 teacher/student, and $25 at the door. Doors open at 7pm, with the event starting at 7:30pm, at the El Cerrito High School’s Performing Arts Center, 540 Ashbury Avenue, El Cerrito, CA 94530.

Eight of the nine women filmmakers at the San Francisco premiere of Lunafest.

Eight of the nine women filmmakers and one star of the short film, First Match, at the San Francisco premiere of Lunafest. Celebrate women and their artistic visions!

Lunafest: ladies’ night out

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Go girl, seek happy nights to happy days.
– William Shakespeare, English poet, playwright, and actor, from Romeo and Juliet

Today is Valentine’s Day, a day of celebration with your significant other. Enjoy the card and the flowers from your garden, the dark chocolates and red wine. Let it be the beginning of a wonderful weekend.

Then think ahead to March 8th, and start planning a fabulous Ladies’ Night Out. Make a long list. Pick up the phone. Blast an e-mail. Send out a text. Gather all of your girlfriends and tell them about Lunafest – a traveling film festival of award-winning short films by, for and about women.” Lunafest seeks to “connect women through film,” which makes it the perfect destination for you and your women friends.

The fabulous women directors, eight of the nine, plus the young lady wrestler.

The fabulous women directors, eight of the nine, plus the young lady wrestler (far right), star of Olivia Newman’s short film First Match, at the San Francisco premiere of Lunafest in October 2013.

But the film festival is more than just a fun night out, though there is a lot of emphasis on fun. Established in 2000 by LUNA, makers of the Whole Nutrition Bar for Women, the film festival raises funds for its main beneficiary, The Breast Cancer Fund, a national organization dedicated to “preventing breast cancer by eliminating our exposure to toxic chemicals and radiation linked to the disease.” When organizations across the country host their Lunafest film festival, they also support local nonprofit groups. So when you attend, you’re supporting a community-wide fundraising event. The Lunafest East Bay Organizing Committee, in its seventh year, is raising funds for the El Cerrito Community Foundation and El Cerrito High School’s Information Technology Academy, a small learning community supported by the nonprofit organization, TechFutures. ITA integrates core academic classes with the technology field, comprising digital art, web design, and computer systems management.

Director Danielle Lurie next to the poster of her short film, Tiny Miny Magic.

Director Danielle Lurie next to the poster of her short film, Tiny Miny Magic, my personal favorite.

This year we’re hosting a dessert circle after the film screening. Local small-businesses Braxtons’ Boxes and Green Girl Bake Shop will be tempting you and your friends with cookies and cupcakes, and dairy- and gluten-free ice cream sandwiches, respectively. Well-Grounded Tea & Coffee Bar is graciously donating complimentary decaffeinated coffee, completing the local community aspect of Lunafest in the East Bay.

Get inspired by the filmmakers’ unique visions and artistry. Support worthy causes and organizations. Seek elimination of breast cancer. Commune with your girlfriends. Meet new friends. Be a part of the local and larger community. Prepare to be delighted, touched, and engaged. All in one magical evening.

You can purchase your tickets here. You can reach out to me to purchase your tickets. Prices are $50 VIP (for the pre-event reception), $20 general, $5 teacher/student, and $25 at the door. Doors open at 7pm, with the event starting at 7:30pm, at the El Cerrito High School’s Performing Arts Center, 540 Ashbury Avenue, El Cerrito, CA 94530.

Director Celia Bullwinkel by her Sidewalk film poster.

Director Celia Bullwinkel by the poster of her short animated film, Sidewalk.

A.C.T.’s Major Barbara: Still timely 100 years later

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You have learnt something. That always feels at first as if you have lost something.
– George Bernard Shaw, Irish playwright and co-founder of the London School of Economics, from Major Barbara

Ready to see a play at the A.C.T.: Dressing with a nod to the turn of the century styling in a lace and crochet duster.

Ready to see a play at the A.C.T.: Dressing with a nod to the turn of the century styling in a lace and crochet duster.

The first time I read George Bernard Shaw’s play, Major Barbara, which was written and premiered in 1905, I was a sophomore in college in the spring of 1982, deeply committed to devouring all literature and wanting to become a writer. The play was included in Literature in Critical Perspectives (1968), an anthology of plays, short stories, poems, and essays, designed to teach “principles and techniques of literary interpretation to freshman and sophomore college students in introduction-to-literature courses.” Instead of being grouped by genre, they were organized by the major critical perspectives of the day: Social, Formalist, Psychological, and Archetypal.

The anthology and my English professor opened my eyes to reading literature more critically and with an open eye and heart to the human condition. The introduction to the critical perspective Social, entitled “Criticism and Sociology” by David Daiches, investigated how a writer’s social origins and social factors affect their work. Shaw wrote, in his 1891 essay The Quintessence of Ibsenism, that society is made up of three discrete types of people: “philistines, who have no capacity for creative thought; idealists, who believe in the tangibility of the impossible; and realists, who can see the world for what it is.” The morality play Major Barbara brilliantly brings all three types to one stage, with an interesting twist as to who the “hero” is.

Major Barbara is a young English woman who, as a major in the Salvation Army, is committed to saving the souls of the poor at a time when capitalism and military industrialism ruled. Her mother, the upper-class Lady Britomart Undershaft, reaches out to her estranged husband, Andrew Undershaft, to supplement Barbara’s and her sister’s dowries, as both are marrying men whose present incomes can’t support them. Barbara’s fiancé, Adolphus Cusins, a Greek scholar, is a secularist but he joins the Salvation Army out of love for Barbara.

Laura Lombardi necklace (Eskell, Chicago), Kate Peterson Designs stack of rings (Adorn & Flourish, El Cerrito, CA), and Anthropologie earrings.

Laura Lombardi necklace (Eskell, Chicago), Kate Peterson Designs stack of rings (Adorn & Flourish, El Cerrito, CA), and Anthropologie earrings.

Andrew Undershaft’s lack of morals is equal to the vast wealth he has accumulated from his munitions manufacturing empire, which is the leading producer of the world’s guns, cannons, torpedoes, submarines, and aerial battleships. Lady Britomart estranged herself from her husband not because of his aim to sell weapons of destruction to anyone who will pay him, but because of his commitment to a tradition in which the heir to the Undershaft fortune must go to an orphan who would be groomed for the position. (Undershaft was an orphan and brought into the empire.) It didn’t help that Undershaft was none too impressed with his only son. His son and two daughters are not happy at all to see him, whom they are told by their mother has re-entered their lives to help them out financially.

Barbara is aghast to accept his “blood money,” but they agree to be open-minded and to gain an understanding of one another by seeing each other’s world, or element. Undershaft is to visit the Salvation Army’s shelter in the city slums and Barbara and the rest of her family are to visit his munitions plant. Undershaft declares that he could “buy” the Salvation Army. When he – out of his love for his daughter, whom he sees as just as brilliant as he – donates a sizeable amount to the Salvation Army, which thrills both her colleagues and the poor, a disillusioned and distraught Barbara resigns from the organization. [On a historical note and one that informs the play, the Salvation Army, which was called the Christian Mission in the 1870s before it changed its name in 1878, increasingly used military metaphors to reach out to the working classes, who at time were drawn to militarism].

Add chunky ring (Lava 9, Berkeley, CA) and switch out for another Laura Lombardi necklace (Eskell, Chicago) for another look, with slouchy chocolate-brown boots for winter.

Add chunky ring (Lava 9, Berkeley, CA) and switch out for another Laura Lombardi necklace (Eskell, Chicago) for another look, with slouchy chocolate-brown boots for winter.

Barbara keeps to her promise and tours her father’s munitions plant and colony, where Undershaft’s workers live. Through the course of the visit, Cusins reveals that he is an orphan, and already in Undershaft’s favor, he becomes heir to the family’s fortune. But will Barbara now spurn him? In fact, she tells Cusins she would turn her back on him if he refused the offer. In the course of three days, the duration of the play’s timeframe, she has come to understand that you simply can’t feed the poor when you are poor. Turning her back on her father and other wealthy people like him is like “turning our backs on life,” according to Barbara. “There is no wicked life: life is all one,” she tells Cusins.

Furthermore, Barbara comes to this understands because – she ardently believes – she is the daughter of a foundling. Rather than be amidst the starving poor, whose salvation and conversion through the soup kitchen is certain so long as there is bread to eat, Barbara sees greater possibility in converting the middle and upper classes. Their basic needs are already met and therefore can focus on their spiritual needs. Their souls are more in need of saving – the “fullfed, quarrelsome, snobbish, uppish creatures, all standing on their little rights and dignities, and thinking that my father ought to be greatly obliged to them for making so much money for him – and so he ought. That is where salvation is really wanted,” she excitedly tells her future husband and heir to her father’s empire.

This strapless dress is the perfect summer evening outfit, with or without the duster. Just add high-heeled sandals or pointy pumps.

This strapless dress is the perfect summer evening outfit, with or without the duster, which can be hooked closed all the way from the lower bodice to the waist or free-flowing. Just add high-heeled sandals or pointy pumps for warmer weather.

I had never seen a live production of Major Barbara. So when I saw that the American Conservatory Theater (A.C.T.), San Francisco’s premiere nonprofit theater company (415 Geary Street, San Francisco, CA 94102, 415.749.2228), was bringing the play to its stage, I told David we were going and were joined by our friends Mimi and Jon, who are fans of Shaw’s Pygmalion. I haven’t been to the Geary Theater in many years, so it was a treat to be back and see it in its revitalized splendor. The settings of the three-act play were nicely done, especially the last act’s high-explosive sheds at the arsenal of Undershaft and Lazarus, which featured ominous gray bombs, like steel sharks, hanging down from the rafters and stuffed muslin dummies with red targets painted on their chests.

Dean Paul Gibson, the Canadian actor who played Andrew Undershaft, and Kandis Chappell, who played Lady Britomart, were phenomenal. First of all, I admit to having a difficult time hearing actors speak on stage, but I could hear every crystal-clear word spoken by Chappell and most of Undershaft’s lines. Chappell’s character had the choicest lines, aside from Undershaft, as they were full of comic contradictions, which I was happily able to appreciate! Gibson was a fine Andrew Undershaft, who was morally despicable and yet whose arguments couldn’t be disputed. He conveyed his convictions convincingly. And agree or agree to disagree, you end up admitting that much of what he proclaimed is true – perhaps not right, but nonetheless true! – and just as true today.

The green, gold, and chocolate flowers and leaves print dress peeks out from an Edwardian-style duster.

The green, gold, and chocolate flower and leaf printed dress peeks out from an Edwardian-style duster.

After seeing Major Barbara, I pulled out my anthology, which I had kept – full of faded green highlights and neatly written notes in the margins – with the intention of reading it again. I wish I had read it before last Saturday evening. I would have relished the lines as they were being said on stage. The play demands it. Though now, when I read it again, I’ll hear Gibson and Chappell’s fine theatrical voices in my head and clearly see the library, soup kitchen, and munitions plant. And I can stop and savor each verbal battle, full of contradictions and ironies. I highly recommend Major Barbara for an uninterrupted weekend afternoon read!

Unfortunately, the play ends this Sunday, February 2nd. For those who appreciate Shaw and are in the area, this is a great production to see. Whether you see it on stage or read it, you will be in awe, wondering how more than 100 years later Major Barbara is just as timely and incredibly relevant today as it was at the turn of the 20th century – a trait that defines greatness. Bravo Shaw!

Add a splash of butter yellow in your clutch.

Add a splash of color with a butter-colored clutch.

Confronting grief, again

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It has been said, ‘time heals all wounds.’ I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.
– Rose Kennedy, matriarch of the Kennedy family

As I headed into 2014 I had high hopes for and a high level of energy to tackle all the things I was looking forward to accomplishing this year. As the month comes to a close, I find myself bewildered to be in a place of stasis – as in motionlessness. Where did all the energy go and why am I not where I thought I would be?

I have been preoccupied with getting a lot of work-related projects through and worrying about them, and as we all know stress can strip one’s energy. I find myself falling asleep around 8:30 in the evenings, without the benefit of a glass of wine at dinnertime to induce drowsiness. I started feeling exhausted again, which has been driven by other culprits such as a soft bed that needs to be replaced, snoring (not mine, though I will admit to snoring), and a sleek new bike seat that I have finally admitted after two weeks that I cannot get used to what feels like sitting on a brick. It makes sense that when you’re wincing on your bike and making adjustments to save your behind, the rest of your body becomes unbalanced, which results in pain – in my case, the whole lower half of my body feels like it belongs to an 80-year-old woman.

Bailey's last day with us, January 17, 2011.

Bailey’s last day with us, January 17, 2011.

Physical ailments aside, as I walked our dog Rex the other morning, I asked myself why I am feeling so aimless when there is so much to do and see. I started thinking about how in the past weeks I have been more attentive to Rex, who recently turned 13, is going deaf, and is part German Shepherd. For the last few years, I have been watching for his tremulous hind legs to start slipping and dragging, and while I see his hind legs buckle ever so slightly, every great once in a while, he has shown remarkable resiliency, likely because he is walked daily and gets exercise going up and down the stairs multiple times a day. He’s on thyroid meds and eats non-grain dog food. He receives a lot of attention from all family members, goes on car rides when I run errands, which he loves, and happily sleeps for hours on his dog bed in the library, next to my home-office desk.

Still in good shape as Rex goes for a late-afternoon backyard search for squirrels.

Still in good shape with rabbit-soft fur, golden in the late afternoon light: Rex in the backyard, searching for squirrels.

Our dog, Bailey, at age 12, passed away three years ago on the Monday night of Martin Luther King, Jr., Day. Whenever I dote on Rex, I am reminded of her passing, of not giving the attention she craved, which is one of the reasons I’m mindful of giving Rex a lot of love. In that quiet moment of crossing the street with Rex on his walk the other day, I fessed up to feeling quite sad that she is gone. Three years later!

One of my favorite photos of my mom and Jacob, summer 2000.

One of my favorite photos of my mom and Jacob, summer 2000. Relaxed and contented, she reclined on the sofa, holding her grandson, who rested his little fingers on her chin.

And then I admitted to myself that I have been thinking a lot of my mother, whose second anniversary of leaving us passed on January 3rd. I had scolded myself after that date this year because I didn’t do anything to remember her. I had a head cold and was working that day. I’m sure there was a part of me that didn’t want to remember anything from that early morning two years ago. For some unknown reason, I have found myself these last couple of weeks turning around, stopping what I was doing and listening, staring out the windows, peering over the divide between the kitchen and family room – looking for, I realized, a sign from my mother. Or actually, expecting my mother, for instance, to be sitting on the family room sofa, as if nothing had changed.

Big smiles for birthday milestones of one and 75, June 2001.

Big smiles for birthday milestones of one and 75, June 2001.

I don’t know if every January will be like this for me. I only recently realized what I was doing and what I was feeling. Bereft. Confused. Once I named my feelings and understood the source, the sadness seemed to grow and become a cloak to me. How one throws off that cloak and carefully folds it and puts it in one’s drawer is different for everyone – as it should be.

Now we are two and 76, with my nephew Joshua, June 2002.

Now we are two and 76, with my nephew Joshua, June 2002.

For me, I asked myself: What would my mother want me to be doing? How best can I honor her memory, honor everything that she had done for me? I told myself: Give myself a hug as if she were hugging me. Keep writing. Get that novel out into the world and get going on the second one. The novel is done, but it’s being carefully and lovingly, I might add, read through by my dear friend, Kathy, who has seen every draft of this novel throughout its 16-plus-year life thus far. So once that task is completed, out it goes into the world. And then on to the second novel. For her. For my beautiful mother.

Another Jacob and Lola birthday celebration, June 2005.

Another Jacob and Lola birthday celebration, June 2005, with Joshua and Isabella.

How I want to remember my mom: Vibrant and happy. With Auntie Rose in their traditional costumes for their dance presentation at the San Esteban Circle Labor Day Weekend festivities, 1995.

How I want to remember my mom: Vibrant and happy. With Auntie Rose, on her left, in their traditional Filipino costumes for their dance presentation at the festivities of the 40th anniversary of the San Esteban Circle, Veterans Memorial Building, Terra Bella, CA, Labor Day Weekend, 1995.

A Different kind of tea party

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The Mad Hatter: “Would you like some wine?”
Alice: “Yes…”
The Mad Hatter: “We haven’t any and you’re too young.”
– Lewis Carroll, English author, mathematician, logician, Anglican clergyman, and photographer, from Alice in Wonderland

My 11-year-old daughter has a negativity problem: She focuses too much on the glass being half-empty, on what went wrong at school that day. When we told my cousin, Janet, and her husband, Tim, about this character flaw – both are teachers, by the way – Tim suggested that we charge her a nickel for every negative thing she says and reward her with a nickel for every positive thought. Of course, Isabella did not like this arrangement. I, however, figured it was worth an experiment. Trying to patiently explain to her why being a Debbie Downer doesn’t get you any BFFs or why life is much more pleasant when you focus on the positive has not been working at all.

Dressed for a real high tea party: faux fur jacket, gold jacquard blouse, and flared black and gold flowered skirt.

Dressed for a real high-tea party: faux fur jacket, gold brocade blouse, and flared black and gold flowered skirt.

Yesterday afternoon, she came home from school, marched up to my office, and pulled out a dollar bill from her wallet. “I owe you money because a lot of bad things happened today,” she declared, as she dropped the bill on my weekly desk calendar. I pushed away from my desk and slumped in my chair. This was going to take a while to get through.

Here’s a quick backstory on the argument: Of the group of six girls who regularly hang out together, two of them wanted to play a different game than the other four had proposed, although they had all agreed to play together on this designated day. The two girls enjoyed playing a particular game every day and begrudgingly, it seemed, agreed to a big play date during lunch time. When the other four didn’t want to play the game, the twosome took off. This “defiant” act angered the four girls, which included my daughter.

A series of back-and-forth “discussions” ensued to expose why the other party was in the wrong. Both camps flung accusations, with one of the girls being called “the mean leader.” My daughter tried to “explain” to the two girls why they weren’t allowed to play their game and how the two girls were bound to the play date and therefore could not walk away. While I understood to a point where my daughter was coming from, it was easy for me to play devil’s advocate: Why is it a problem if they don’t want to play a game mandated by the other girls, especially since life is so short? Why not just let them do their own thing, as I know Isabella would prefer doing her own thing rather than be forced to do something she doesn’t want to do, again, because life is so short? Why allow yourself to be offended by something as small as their wanting to do something else? Life is too short. That was my theme, and I stuck to it. This problem of the girls not playing along appeared to be a control issue at the core. No amount of argument from me, however, appeased my daughter, as she plucked a second dollar bill from her wallet and put it on top of the first dollar bill.

Art Nouveau style necklace (Lava 9, Berkeley, CA), beloved chunky ring (Lava 9), and Alkemie scarab cuff against faux fur and gold jacquard-patterned blouse.

Art Nouveau style necklace (Lava 9, Berkeley, CA), beloved chunky ring (Lava 9), and Alkemie scarab cuff against faux fur and gold brocade blouse.

She then told me that the two girls ran to their teacher to complain, and at the end of the school day, Isabella was informed that she had to attend a “tea party” at recess today, comprising the teacher and six of the seven girls who were involved in the chaos. Of course, Isabella complained about losing her recess time. She was told that they would talk it out and that holding a hot cup of tea would prevent the girls from “yelling” at one another. I don’t know if this is an exact translation, as the two girls relayed the information to Isabella.

Brilliant! I thought. A tea party will provide the genteel setting needed for a calm discussion among 10- and 11-year-olds. And what girl doesn’t enjoy a tea party –  even if her eyes are throwing daggers across the table, over the cups and saucers and teapot? I’d like to be a fly on the wall, but knowing this teacher, whom I have known for almost a decade and who was my son’s third-grade teacher, I know she will be a fair mediator. She has two daughters – college and high school age – so the territory is familiar to her. This is the terrain of pre-teen girls, a fact of which I am reminded on a daily basis. So it’s nice to gain strategies to deal with this challenging time in our household.

Love of textures and Art Nouveau jewelry.

Love of textures and Art Nouveau-inspired jewelry.