Too Intense
So, I'm almost done with "Scribbling the Cat" already. It's pretty compelling, a page-turner, and not very long, so if it weren't so intense, I'ld probably be done with it already. But it is, so I'm not.
Fortunately, yesterday afternoon I felt energetic enough to take a trip down to the Mall to meet up with an old high school friend, who was in town with her "baby" sister and her family to celebrate "baby" sister's youngest son's 12th birthday. I believe it had been about 12 years since we had seen each other, that being at MY "baby" sister's wedding in Wisconsin. She, Sandy, my friend, now lives in Raphine (pronounced, by me, to kid her, RAY feen), Virginia, about 2 hours or so south. I understand about 3 people live there. Actually, about 150 or so, I guess, but again, I like to kid her. It seems funny to me that she lives there when she had come from Madison, Wisconsin, which is probably about as opposite of RAYphine as you could get, culturally speaking. But she says it's beautiful and quiet, and they like it. And I can believe that. Rural Virginia's nothing if not beautiful and quiet....well, conservative...but also beautiful....and quiet.
Anyhow, it was really lovely to see her and Karen, her "baby" sister, whom I probably hadn't seen since SHE was 12, and meet the extended family, especially since Sandy and I had lost touch with each other for a few years, during which time she had moved and I had been recuperating from the lawsuit and the closing of Mount Vernon and trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life, since I obviously was done with academe. But after a few years I realized I hadn't heard from her in awhile and it seemed no one in our family had, which was strange since she was close to both my mother and my younger sister Carey and was fond of Charles and Katy....having lived down the road from us for several years while I was in college and then some. Carey used to babysit for her daughter Laurie when Laurie was a baby. So, I had managed by hook and by crook, since she had left Madison, to track her down (they didn't call me Columbo on the Grand Jury for nothing) and was just astonished to discover she was here on the East Coast, hardly a hop, skip and a jump away, a couple of years ago....but we hadn't really had an opportunity to get together yet. SO, yesterday we met at the new museum, the Museum of the American Indian, for lunch and visit.
Talk about intense..she "caught me up" on the whole family. Her older brother, whom I had dated in high school, who managed to stumble into a job with Microsoft in its infancy and is now, how shall we say it, extremely well off. Her younger brother, who went off several deep ends during his adolescence and thus spent a large part of it in reform schools of various ilks, but managed eventually to pull himself together, get a degree, and spend more than a decade working in Japan before returning to the U.S., where he now lives, in NYC. And her baby sister, on whose land she now lives and with whom she works part-time, selling chestnuts and day lillies from their tree and flower farm. Of course, I was already intimately acquainted with her own history, including pregnancy and marriage at 16; her son's congenital deafness; she and her husband's separation and her unhappy sojourn in Florida; their reconciliation and move to the farm near us; the birth of Laurie; her husband's death in a car accident not long after; her move to Madison and sheer gutsiness to get through college and law school, and then the traffic accident which left her in chronic pain and her unsuccessful lawsuit to recover damages. So it's not surprising that when her son spent a large part of his 20's ragging on her and feeling sorry for himself, that she would get a little depressed and want to run away to the peace and quiet of rural Virginia with her sister. So that's what she did, and how I lost track.
She's feeling better, now, though. Her son got himself together, got educated, got a job, got a wife, has a baby....has turned himself into a responsible and good guy. In fact, he turned out to be one of the links in how I managed to find her. And her daughter Laurie, well, Laurie's just always been the best. Probably the light of Sandy's life...although I think that little girl of Karen's son Brett's may be becoming a close second. And these days Sandy is very, very proud of her son, who has also given her a grandson. Unfortunately, she doesn't get to see either of them very often as they are still in Madison.
Anyhow, "Scribbling the Cat" is about the after effects of war in Africa and it's harsh and sad, and sometimes under some circumstances some people do unspeakable things, which I hope isn't the most part. But at this point in my life, I think everyone has a story and they all have their painful and poignant parts. I don't know who said it, but I am reminded of the saying that goes something like, "No one gets out alive." And no one gets out entirely unscathed. So we find our joy where and when we can and make the best of what we get. And sometimes if we're lucky, one of the great things we get is friends, and it is another astonishing thing to me how long we have been friends.
We met sitting next to each other in 8th grade algebra class. She hated her Dad. I adored mine. She adopted him, and he let her. It wasn't enough, but it was something. It didn't stop her from trying to escape her own father's house, but it helped her survive afterwards. And now it is 44 years later. 44 YEARS later. And we are still friends.
Fortunately, yesterday afternoon I felt energetic enough to take a trip down to the Mall to meet up with an old high school friend, who was in town with her "baby" sister and her family to celebrate "baby" sister's youngest son's 12th birthday. I believe it had been about 12 years since we had seen each other, that being at MY "baby" sister's wedding in Wisconsin. She, Sandy, my friend, now lives in Raphine (pronounced, by me, to kid her, RAY feen), Virginia, about 2 hours or so south. I understand about 3 people live there. Actually, about 150 or so, I guess, but again, I like to kid her. It seems funny to me that she lives there when she had come from Madison, Wisconsin, which is probably about as opposite of RAYphine as you could get, culturally speaking. But she says it's beautiful and quiet, and they like it. And I can believe that. Rural Virginia's nothing if not beautiful and quiet....well, conservative...but also beautiful....and quiet.
Anyhow, it was really lovely to see her and Karen, her "baby" sister, whom I probably hadn't seen since SHE was 12, and meet the extended family, especially since Sandy and I had lost touch with each other for a few years, during which time she had moved and I had been recuperating from the lawsuit and the closing of Mount Vernon and trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life, since I obviously was done with academe. But after a few years I realized I hadn't heard from her in awhile and it seemed no one in our family had, which was strange since she was close to both my mother and my younger sister Carey and was fond of Charles and Katy....having lived down the road from us for several years while I was in college and then some. Carey used to babysit for her daughter Laurie when Laurie was a baby. So, I had managed by hook and by crook, since she had left Madison, to track her down (they didn't call me Columbo on the Grand Jury for nothing) and was just astonished to discover she was here on the East Coast, hardly a hop, skip and a jump away, a couple of years ago....but we hadn't really had an opportunity to get together yet. SO, yesterday we met at the new museum, the Museum of the American Indian, for lunch and visit.
Talk about intense..she "caught me up" on the whole family. Her older brother, whom I had dated in high school, who managed to stumble into a job with Microsoft in its infancy and is now, how shall we say it, extremely well off. Her younger brother, who went off several deep ends during his adolescence and thus spent a large part of it in reform schools of various ilks, but managed eventually to pull himself together, get a degree, and spend more than a decade working in Japan before returning to the U.S., where he now lives, in NYC. And her baby sister, on whose land she now lives and with whom she works part-time, selling chestnuts and day lillies from their tree and flower farm. Of course, I was already intimately acquainted with her own history, including pregnancy and marriage at 16; her son's congenital deafness; she and her husband's separation and her unhappy sojourn in Florida; their reconciliation and move to the farm near us; the birth of Laurie; her husband's death in a car accident not long after; her move to Madison and sheer gutsiness to get through college and law school, and then the traffic accident which left her in chronic pain and her unsuccessful lawsuit to recover damages. So it's not surprising that when her son spent a large part of his 20's ragging on her and feeling sorry for himself, that she would get a little depressed and want to run away to the peace and quiet of rural Virginia with her sister. So that's what she did, and how I lost track.
She's feeling better, now, though. Her son got himself together, got educated, got a job, got a wife, has a baby....has turned himself into a responsible and good guy. In fact, he turned out to be one of the links in how I managed to find her. And her daughter Laurie, well, Laurie's just always been the best. Probably the light of Sandy's life...although I think that little girl of Karen's son Brett's may be becoming a close second. And these days Sandy is very, very proud of her son, who has also given her a grandson. Unfortunately, she doesn't get to see either of them very often as they are still in Madison.
Anyhow, "Scribbling the Cat" is about the after effects of war in Africa and it's harsh and sad, and sometimes under some circumstances some people do unspeakable things, which I hope isn't the most part. But at this point in my life, I think everyone has a story and they all have their painful and poignant parts. I don't know who said it, but I am reminded of the saying that goes something like, "No one gets out alive." And no one gets out entirely unscathed. So we find our joy where and when we can and make the best of what we get. And sometimes if we're lucky, one of the great things we get is friends, and it is another astonishing thing to me how long we have been friends.
We met sitting next to each other in 8th grade algebra class. She hated her Dad. I adored mine. She adopted him, and he let her. It wasn't enough, but it was something. It didn't stop her from trying to escape her own father's house, but it helped her survive afterwards. And now it is 44 years later. 44 YEARS later. And we are still friends.
posted by pat at 12:14 PM
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