object of memory

we must return to where it was lost / if we want to find it again

Tag: motherhood

  • catch up

    catch up

    Believe it or not, I have seven posts sitting idle in my draft folder, with a few for each month that this site has been silent. It’s a fitting metaphor for how I’ve been feeling—many thoughts but few words to express them. Those who know me in person understand that I’m not a big talker. I enjoy people and conversations, but I often hit a wall when the words suddenly stop. I think them, but they don’t come out.

    Sid returned home in May after eleven months away. The growth has been astounding—a mix of intensive work and natural maturity—and we’ve spent the past two months adjusting to being a family of four again. We left off with a ten- and thirteen-year-old. Now we have a tween and an almost fifteen-year-old, in sixth and tenth grades. That shift feels pivotal, as there’s no going back to early childhood. Young adulthood looms, which is both beautiful and frightening, leading to midnight musings about what comes next.

    (more…)
  • the climb

    the climb

    Some people traveled to warm tropical destinations this spring break, while others may have opted for skiing or international trips. We didn’t. I wouldn’t even call it a staycation, as we didn’t do much unless you count my reluctantly taking Emmett to the 9/11 Museum upon his request, which was as far removed from typical vacation material as a New Yorker who experienced it firsthand can get, but whatever.

    I tried hard to balance my feelings this week as we look towards a horizon filled with light, something that hasn’t been possible for years – Sid is coming home in May. He will return almost eleven months to the day since he left. That’s wild when you think about it. Essentially, it’s been an entire year. I’ve been clinging to this aspect of the future, this reality that doesn’t quite feel real yet, but it’s getting there, and the realness is infused with fierce maternal joy, excitement, and a lot of anxiety that comes with years of heartache. All of it is natural, and the core of it is that my baby is coming home.

    (more…)
  • stepping off the gravitron

    stepping off the gravitron

    Things I have learned in the last two weeks in no particular order:

    1. The house is exponentially quieter with one child vs. two.

    2. The house is still just as messy.

    3. Once there is quiet, you realize there are so many layers to peel back, wade through, or hide beneath.

    4. After several years of being on edge, the brain doesn’t know what to do with itself.

    5. The body retaliates after several years of being on edge.

    6. Sleep is a fickle creature that evades at night and then attacks during the day.

    7. Music is solace. The more I listen, the more I hunger for a thrumming beat, rhythm that pushes my body into movement, for sounds that vibrate through my entirety.

    8. Perhaps I am starved for the feeling of wholeness and am attempting to fill it with sound.

    9. Or maybe the sound reminds me that I am alive.

    10. My lynx point Siamese rescue kitten will eat half a loaf of challah if we leave it on the counter.

    11. My orange cat curls around my head each night and purrs like he is gifting me a lullaby.

    12. My tuxedo cat has started sleeping in my oldest child’s vacant room.

    13. I am tired of using oldest and youngest to name my children, so I’ve created pseudonyms: oldest = Sid, youngest = Emmet

    14. I talked to Sid on Zoom today – it was the first time in fourteen days that I could see his face – and the distance felt so stark, immovable, and overwhelming.

    15. Ravens are living in the trees near my house.

    16. Their screams are fabulous.

    17. Mid-summer magic hour, when the lightning bugs begin to rise, will always be magical.

    18. One day, millisecond by second by minute by hour, I will stop feeling like I have just stepped off a Gravitron.

    19. One day the pieces will fall back into place. Likely not the same place, but adjacent, with edges that line up just enough but not quite, which is good enough for me.