Here We Go.......

We have all experienced a strange and difficult year. Playing retrospect, I would never have anticipated the last fifteen months of my life. It’s an interesting timeline. December 31, 2019: My mother died. January 10, 2020: I receive an email from a woman that I have been searching for, for most of my life. February 2020: Italy closes its borders due to a virus spread. March 2020: The United States closes down due to a virus spread....and now the rest seems incidental. Earthquakes, fires, riots and unrest. That happened but let’s go back to January. That is where this story begins.

I have previously written about the amazing women in my life. One of those women gave birth to me and then never saw me again. Advances in technology and the ability to collect DNA have allowed us new ways to track our genealogy. My first leap into the unknown was with my friend who makes me pretty, Kelly. She excitedly entered my information into the website and searched the results with me. Since the first leap, I’ve spit into a small vile on numerous occasions and waited for the results. Hoping to find the one, mysterious person that made me possible. I have up to 600 relative matches on some sites. Never have the matches been more than third or fourth cousins. One time, I found a second cousin. 

Then, in late fall 2019, amidst the chaos of the holidays and family, I received a message on one of genealogy websites. A first cousin responded to a message I sent and helped me make contact with my sister and my birth mother. I had a lot going on in my world. A new private practice, holiday events with family and church, caring for Offspring and spouse. Retrospect, I had no idea the speed of the train I had just boarded. 

December 16, 2019: Text from Mom: Your father is taking me to UofU hospital. Insta-care thinks I need to go straight to the ER. I’m texting you but don’t worry. It’s fine. Don’t tell your aunt. 

December 17, 2019: Text from Mom: I am having emergency gall bladder surgery. It’s fine. Don’t worry.

December 18, 2019: Text from my Brother: Mom is being moved to Hunstman. She went into A-fib. They want to do a bone-marrow biopsy.

It doesn’t improve from that point. I ran out of tears at some point in the process. Then, she finished on New Year’s Eve. 

At some point in the chaos I told my mother that I had located a cousin and might be able to find my birth mother. Her eyes lit up and she made me promise to meet her. Phew, yeah, that happened. 

January 10, 2020: I am sitting at my kitchen table, hunched over a computer with my friend and marketing help, Amanda. An Email alert appears on the screen. 

        Hi Nicole (if it’s still Nicole). My name is Michelle, I might be your half sister.....

And so it began. An email, exchange of mobile numbers, texts and a phone call. A meeting was planned and then it was canceled. Then, it was planned again. 

I’ve spent the year calling and FaceTiming. Hours of talking and laughing and crying and finally, it’s planned again and off I go. I can’t take the most important players in this story with me on my journey, so I will write about it and share the pictures. 

Here we go........

It’s All Relative

This has been, a year. Two thousand twenty years from the birth of Jesus. 525,600 minutes, how do YOU measure a year? How do you quantify the moments of life within 12 months, 8,760 hours, 525,600 minutes? 

My year began in measurements of family and moments of loss. Family. Relatives. People we are connected with, by blood? Genetics? Proximity? Stitched together in tapestry and ripped apart, cut into smaller pieces, to be stitched and connected to different collections of people. 

For me, this year was an unintended Pandora’s Box. A beginning of great and unexpected things. The story of this year, begins a long time ago. Forty-nine years ago to be precise. When one mother gave a gift to another mother. The gift of a child. Then, On December 31, 2019 the mother who received the gift, the child, let go of life, creating a hole in the universe. The universe responded with a miracle. The mother who gave the child away, the mother who gave the gift, was found. With the discovery came a sister and brother, aunts and uncles, cousins and.....relatives. Family. 

I’ve often thought, in this year of great and unexpected things, that the space-time continuum was ripped to create a hole for it all to converge. Space-time fabric. It’s time to sew it back together and wrap the two under one quilt. 

How did you measure your year? How will you measure the next? 

Seasons of Love 

Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes

Five hundred twenty five thousand moments so dear

Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes

How do you measure? Measure a year?

In daylights,

In sunsets,

In midnights,

In cups of coffee,

In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife

In five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes

How do you measure a year in a life?

How about love?

How about love?

How about love?

Measure in love...

Seasons of love...

Seasons of love...

Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes

Five hundred twenty five thousand journeys to plan

Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes

How do you measure a life of a woman or a man?

In truths that she learned

Or in times that she cried

In bridges he burned

Or the way that she died

Its time now to sing out though

The story never ends

Let's celebrate remember a year in a life

Of friends

Remember the love...

(Oh you gotta remember the love)

Remember the love...

(Oh yeah, its a gift from up above)

Remember the love...

(Sing out, give out, measure your life

In looooooove...!)

Seasons of love...

Seasons of love...

Retro-Spect

When I originally decided to make efforts to start publishing my random thoughts, again, it took some time to compose what I thought I should publish. It would seem that in years past I was prone to speak before I put any thought into the response. Older and wiser or perhaps just older.

I am fond of telling people that the older I get the less I know. I have avoided a social media presence, because, honestly, this social media thing makes me nervous. There are a lot of what ifs. It feels like starting Middle School all over again. Am I pretty enough? Am I skinny enough? Am I smart enough? Will anyone like me? It is, SCARY! 

Once upon a time I grew up, I got married and I had Offspring. Then the Offspring grew up. Now, they do it on their own and I suppose it’s a chance for me and the hubby to be, just us again. “Empty Nest” they call it. But this nest isn’t empty, it’s just aged like a comfortable old sofa. Worn around the edges with familiar, discolored spots. We’ve added a few new members and even lost one. I love this comfy old couch. 

I am resolved to keep moving forward and keep learning this thing called life. I’ve started my private practice. Set up space to help people when they are lost and I am embracing the new and sometimes scary. I am an aging dog, but I can learn new tricks. So, social media here I am. I hope you’ll join me on my adventures and don’t be afraid to share a little bit of what makes you apprehensive. 

Half Century Reboot

There was a time, in life, that I utilized scarce moments to journal my thoughts in the realm of this little internet spot. Then, life happened. Offspring grow up, people come and people go and I, phew, got old-er-ish. Here I am, approaching the close of 2020 and looking at the reality of - a half century old. 

Today marks one year to the day. Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes. How do YOU measure a year? Boy howdy what a year it has been. It began with a farewell, a march, a discovery and then - a virus, a lockdown, an earthquake, riots, unrest, drought, pestilence, an election...and here we are, back at the day the train sped up and I headed into hell. 

I have, in the past, shared the workings of my crazy mind with you, here at this spot. I have decided that today is a fitting day to re-boot my Miscellaneous Musings. A collection of the mundane happenings in my life. 

Welcome Back, I’m glad you came to visit.

Molly

Tribute

I am a slave to social pressure, thus my habitual presence on a cardio machine most weekday mornings. A ritual that includes mindless observance of infotainment.  Specifically, the Today Show on NBC. For those of you who know me “in real life”, I admit my traitorous behavior, but, you’ll get over it.

I watch, infotainment,  because there isn’t anything that requires my attention, per se. I don’t even plug my headphones in to hear the audio. I sporadically watch the closed captioning and absorb what’s going on around the world. Today, I was caught in a surreal moment of recognition. A familiar face graced the screen. I smiled when I noticed it, remembering my connection with the individual and his family from my past. And then I read the caption. He died. He died of a cancerous brain tumor. Wait, he died?

I stopped, staring at the screen. I held the side-bars of the machine. It was a one of those cliché book moments. My breath caught in my throat, a lump formed, I felt a strange cold rush…you know the line. I panicked for one brief moment, frozen and unable to move as the machine beeped incessantly at me. What do I do? I looked back toward the screen, his image was gone. How could a news report be so callous, do they not understand the impact, the influence this man had on television and movies? He's special, amazing, kind, talented...damn it, you don't just move on to the next story! Where did he go?

I wanted to call someone, I need to call someone. The next person to come to mind was his beautiful daughter. But, I haven’t seen or talk to her in 15 years. I can’t call her. As my breathing quickened, I realized I was standing in a crowded room, sweating with tears running down my face. Ridiculous.  The fool I must look. So, I called the pseudonymous hubby and sought out an obscure corner. I think I just needed to tell someone. Someone who knew and understood the past connection, a brief conversation as hubby tells me he’s so sorry but, of course, he can’t talk, he’s in a meeting.  He'll try to find someone he knows to help contact the family. Right now he has to run, "Love you", he says. What do I do? How do I tell this beautiful passed soul's family how very sorry I am?

The reality, I don't know how. So I’ll do the only other thing I know to do. I'll do this. I’ll write. However banal and dry, however awkward and poorly expressed, this will be my condolence to them. My eulogy, of sorts, to him. My, way to, grieve? I can't write or express anything as well or as beautifully as he could, as his daughters can. Although, my only connection in 15 years has been the internet, and the New York Times society page, I will write and put it into the ether. Given the abilities of Google and modern technology,  I know what the girls are doing. They are married. They look happy and successful and certainly the pride of both their parents. I’ve watched all of this through news and television. I’ve cheered at their successes and I cried for them this morning. This can't be real, can it. People like him, wonderful, amazing people like him, they all live to ripe old ages. We don't hear about their deaths at 68. Sixty eight, he's younger than my Dad. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/06/24/gary-david-goldberg-dead_n_3488463.html And, let's be honest, it's strange, the "connection" we perceive having seen something on the internet, or on television. We don't REALLY know that person. I did, a long time ago. But, not now. Not really.

And Cailin; kind, soulful, lovely, grounded. I remember a beautiful girl who knew only kindness to everyone around her. A beautiful soul who grew up in privilege, a fairy tale life, and yet only knew how to be the most genuine, happy, kind, giving person I ever chanced to meet. A girl, woman, a lovely, honest soul whose gift is to eloquently capture in words the emotions, the events of life that we all see, every day, and cannot express. She is, just like her Dad a talented writer, whose face lights up with his smile and the crinkly eyes. She is everything her Dad raised her to be. Amazing. He loved his girls. He taught his girls how to love. She is, a girl who relished her time with her family and valued the most important things in life, beautiful memories. Christmas with a house full of crazy cousins. Skiing at midnight on New Year’s with pots and pans in sub-temperatures. Her Dad making toast and eggs for breakfast, claiming it was all he knew how to cook. Wearing his funny leather Russian hat on cold days… And I was privileged enough to be included in some of that. Now? What now?

My love to you Miss Cailin Goldberg-Meehan. I raise my glass in honor of the beautiful soul who was your Dad. If you are still who I remember, then your heart is heavy today. Your heart has been heavy for some time, I am sure. A small part of it will forever be broken. But, in time, I know I will see the honor you and Shana will give his legacy. As I read, and re-read this post, it is so inadequate. So small. So insignificant for what I think and feel and for who Gary was. But, it is my buried tribute. I can hear his laugh......

Authentic Authority

We all love to think that we know what is best. For everybody, everything and every situation that arises. Your neighbor's kid has an issue, they should just ...(The dot, dot, dot, is deliberate.) Your sister has this issue. Well, she should just ... That guy in the grocery store is 150+ pounds overweight, he should just ... Candidate #1 (R) is running for office. The (R) or the (D) obviously make them more qualified than (C), right? Of course! Because why? Because, YOU KNOW. You, are the authority on it all. Duh, welcome to the United States, moron. Greece, Spain, Italy...shit, the whole of Europe has a crisis. And we know how to fix it? Okay, when in hell did the population get so damn smart? (If you haven't caught up to speed yet, PAY ATTENTION, facetiousness abounds dumb-ass)

What is it with this country? Oh, and don't try to tell me you aren't like that. Yes, you are. Hell, I, am like that. And, quite frankly, I know next to nothing. (I'm serious about knowing next to nothing). When did Americans decide that we were so much better than everyone else? When did we become entitled to EVERYTHING simply by our existence? And when did (R) or (D) dictate whether you and I can have a civil conversation about the realities of government? I'm not sure what the answers are, but, I can tell you, I have had it with hypocritical experts. The hypo-critical, the hypocrites and the experts. And I'm really fed up with all of them telling me 1) that I'm doing it wrong 2) how to do it 3) assuming they have all the answers 4) assuming they have the best answers.

If this all seems to have come about very suddenly, it hasn't. It's just been latent for the last five or six years. Each of the birthdays that I have celebrated in the last six or so years has, strangely, drained me of certain aspects of, what shall we call it? A "give-a-shit" cell in areas of my life. Think of it as similar to Jay-Z's song Off That. There are things in life that I was positive I was supposed to be passionate about when I was younger. And now? It requires far to much effort anymore. Now, a return to the plethora of authority that we have been so generously steeped with in this country.

My most recent encounters with applications to varying private schools in the greater city area gets my panties into a twist. I feel like, even with enough money, my choices are limited to the scrutiny of others. Public education is in dire straights. In a word, it sucks. Private school is great, but only if you can pay for it and if you pass their litmus test. Either way, I'm screwed and so are my kids. I don't fit into the mold, I don't fulfill the checklist, I. Am. W.R.O.N.G. Never could seem to get the right answer anyhow. So, onward and upward with our home school adventures. I never thought I would be learning trigonometry, but a  girls gotta do what a girls gotta do. You be right, I'll be wrong and I'll try be okay with all your stellar advice and authority. Or, I'll do what I'm really good at, ignoring you.

Delusions

I had such visions when I posted a couple of weeks ago. I had so many things swirling in my head I thought for sure I would spew forth all things useless on a daily basis. Okay, so I was a little presumptuous.

My life is quite literally consumed by five of the most beautiful people on the planet. Pseudonymous of course. Who, currently, is working on the biggest release that Disney has ever put out in the games market. He is, a stressed mess. Can't tell you what a party THAT little black rain cloud is. But, if you are so inclined, you can check it all out on the World Wide Web....just do a little Google-ing  I know you are all capable. Google "Disney Infinity". Needless to say, in spite of  his inspiring (cue eye-roll, perfunctory clearing of throat) attitude, gOD knows I am kind of proud of him.

Then, there are the Offspring. Buck-buck #1 is working at the Wave this summer. As a lifeguard. I am, less, than thrilled. But, it's a job. I guess. There is not enough time in the world to re-visit any opinion on that. Just gift me with the obligatory gasp of shock that he is, yes, THAT OLD! Which makes me? (Oh, shut it!!)

Buck-buck #2 is still his quintessential self. Does anyone recall "Scuba Steve?" That's still him. What more can I say?

Okay, so, there's your re-cap. Now, to decide what is appropriate, and, perhaps NOT, so inappropriate to publish. It's what has, so far, kept me from putting it out there into the ether. There are curious, ignorant eyes every where. I'll keep composing and see what surfaces.