CRS. Cielo taught me this a few years ago. She said she was suffering from CRS and I had no idea what she was talking about so I googled it, not to be undone by another damn acronym.
- Catholic Relief Services (Cielo is not Catholic, she is still searching for The One True Church (bless my little, black heart for that one))
- Congressional Research Service (reports) baahahahahha (in restrospect…)
- Community Resources for Science (distinct possibility but not something you generally suffer from)
- Certified Residential Specialist (of what, exactly? No. stop there)
- Controlled Release Society (ohmygod)
- Congenital rubella syndrome
- CRS Disease and you…CAN’T REMEMBER SHIT! HA!
HA! HA! HA!
All this just to tell you I can’t remember shit these days.
I am turning 50 on Saturday (yay,me!) I was 43 when I started this blog. Turning 50 doesn’t much move me because it’s a number and I don’t feel any different than I did last week but it bugs the shit out of Elizabeth because 50 is close to 60 (so sayeth, Elizabeth) and after 60 comes 70 and 70 is OLD, man. Crap, my mother might get OLD. Within my lifetime and that is bad, bad, bad and to a 13 year old I can see how that might be a little disconcerting.
Me: Well, shit, kid, you must think NM is freaking Ancient.
Elizabeth: We’ve already had this conversation, Mom, he’s in really great shape so he’s going to live forever, remember? That’s what you told me. Are you changing your story now?
Me: Nope. But I’m in really good shape too and so maybe I’ll live forever too.
Elizabeth: No you won’t. You’re my mother and you’re going to die on me.
Me: Very true, Elizabeth, very true. Or at least I hope so.
Me: I am supposed to get very old and die and you are supposed to outlive me. That is the natural order of things.
Elizabeth: Well I don’t like it.
Me: I’d like it even less.
Elizabeth: I could see that.
So. On the subject of turning 50. I started this blog when I was 43 and THAT is something that makes me stop and think because it’s continuity and the passage of time or the noticing of the passage of time that gets my attention.
As in HOLY SHIT! I’M RUNNING OUT OF TIME MAYBE OR I’M WASTING TIME (am I?). Not like a mid-life crisis, more like a wake up or check-in call. Are the choices I’m making the right choices because my life is finite?
Elizabeth. Check. That is the right choice. The longer she does this, the more intensity she puts into it, the clearer I become about being behind her, under her, for her. Time is finite for Elizabeth also. There is a window and this is it. Not everyone’s life looks the same and hers does not fit into the cookie cutter box.
My life at TheBigBank. Well, it sure is paying Elizabeth’s tuition and cost of doing business. I think that transportation and pointe shoes (right now we’re at a new pair every six weeks) and field trips are about even with tuition and when I did the math in my head the other day I about barfed into my lap in the car and I’m still OK with this. My life at TheBigBank is also supporting my decision to not default on my mortgage. Also a choice. And oddly enough, geographically this is really working out for me. It’s a great carpool location. Serendipitous.
Northern Man. Actually, that’s not fair. This is not about Northern Man. This is about having a relationship in my life at all at the moment. Can you be 50 or 50 plus and on the back side of one or more major relationships and figure out how the hell to sort yourselves out? Well the obvious answer is of course you can; it really becomes an issue of bandwidth and bravery. That and what it is you think you want. Distance is, as it turns out, rather difficult in some respects and in others probably still a very good thing but I might be wrong about that. I am still very clear that we need to be able to go home and be by ourselves but I am no longer very sure that 114 miles is all that convenient anymore. However, it doesn’t really matter because the circumstances are what they are. And that is that. Oh, so, yes. Check.
Dancing. Me, mine. Well shit, I don’t do nearly enough of it but I have what I have. Hardly seems fair to put it in here except that it actually costs money. I did the math and figured out what it costs to drive to Brooklyn to dance and it’s about $70 after gas, bridge tolls, parking and the $15 to get into the dance. It costs me a bit less than that to drive all the way to Amherst to go to a Wednesday night dance. Crazy, huh? It doesn’t cost me as much to drive into the Village because I pay less to cross the Henry Hudson than the Whitestone and I pay less to park but not much. But I don’t go to these dances much. Mostly I am dancing North or I try to go to Branford. So Check.
Northern Man has been working on a 50th birthday party since October. He talked to me about this briefly last April and I’m pretty sure I made faces at him. Big party with everyone I know? Are you nuts? This is not something that would make me happy. This is something that would send me running for the hills or into my bedroom in tears. It would not be about me.
Surprises. I don’t like them. Introverts don’t care for surprises. We need time to prepare ourselves for what’s coming. I may or may not have mentioned that. In any event he was certainly thinking well of me because he had quite a bit of the stuff that would make me cry worked out.
There was just one problem. I got sick. Really, really sick. Sick as in, not moving and in my bed and by Thursday he had to make a call. Actually, he had to make a bunch of calls, mainly to my brother who was about to get on an airplane with his wife and fly from Colorado to Connecticut.
So Alecto, here’s the deal. On Saturday a few people are coming to your house and there’s going to be a small party with some people and there won’t be any conflict. It’s from 3 – 6 and we’ve taken care of everything but I need you to tell me now if you think you can handle this because some people are coming from very far away.
I thought I was going to cry.
Not why you think.
The pressure was way too much.
What if I’m still wanting to throw up and coughing up blood? I was coughing up blood. Not from my lungs but from the rawness in my throat caused by the asthmatic bronchial infection.
Tell me who’s coming.
NOW I was starting to cry.
To see me?
Yes, to see you.
Well OK then.
But my house is a disaster.
We’ll take care of that but you made it very difficult because you just wouldn’t go where you were supposed to go or do what you were supposed to do and you were very stubborn.
Well it was really lovely. No one has ever done that for me before, at least not like that. I did it for Cletus and Numbah One Son’s dad when he turned 30 and that worked out really well. Even the surprise part worked out really well because he DID behave the way he was supposed to and went off to the Special Olympics to volunteer just like he was meant to and he *does* appreciate this sort of thing being the extrovert that he is.
Oh, and one other thing. I hate the traditional birthday song. And I do mean HATE it. I hate singing it to other people and I can’t stand it when people sing it to me. I think it is the worst song ever. I was about ready to beg not to have this happen and NM asked if I wanted the Greenfield song and I said I did but nobody knows the Greenfield song except Greenfield people and everybody in the room agreed to learn the Greenfield song and I thought that was just damn astonishing because he freaking sat there and taught it to them and they sang it and you know what? I think that’s the first time in my life I’ve actually liked that sort of thing. It was just sort of hard not to sing it too. I really like that song.
So SM, I just want to say thank you for making what had to be a 10 hour round trip drive for a 3 hour party. And also for everything you said. I think that needs to be said. I’m just sort of astonished and I don’t really think I deserve that and I want you to know it meant the world to me. And I won’t even go into Leisure Suit Larry…
So on Saturday I’m really going to turn 50 and I’m going to do it at Greenfield. I am actually a little uncomfortable about that as it turns out.
Too bad. Suck it up, Alecto.
And NM, that was an awful lot of thinking, of the sort that I suppose I have a hard time understanding probably for the same reason I’m not sure why SM would make that 10 hour round trip drive, but I *am* working on it. And thank you.