Tag: Life

  • Short Story Review: “Beyond Imagining” by Lore Segal

    (The short story “Beyond Imagining” by Lore Segal appeared in the June 10th, 2024 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Illustration by Bénédicte Muller

    A few years before my mother passed away, we got into a conversation about getting older. She was around 70 years old at this time, and happily enjoying her life in retirement, as well as being the matriarch of our family, but she especially enjoyed being a grandmother. “Is it all what you hoped it would be?” I asked her, to which she responded, “When I got married (at 19) I never thought I would live past forty. This is all new to me.” My mother could be dry, but at the time, I wasn’t sure what to make of her answer. Since her passing, and my own aging, I have come to understand that you can’t get excited for something you aren’t able to imagine.

    Lore Segal’s “Beyond Imagining” posed this thought early in the first section, when the character Bridget, speaking about death states, “I think that the reason I think I won’t mind being dead is that I can’t imagine it, and I don’t think we know how to believe what we aren’t able to imagine.” This idea, this through line, plays role in the four sections of this story, which follow a circle of elderly women friends in New York, as they handle, deal, and accept their current lives.

    I know that the above description is, maybe, an unfair simplification of this piece. The story exudes a wonderful melancholy as it lets us experience the world of these women. But it also has a very delicate touch, showing the importance and power of their friendships, how these relationships at this point in their lives sustains them, and gives them strength to deal with issues and discoveries they did not anticipate. Though this piece is not very long, the characters intertwin in each other’s sections, and I found this structure added a depth of authenticity to the friendships.

    When I finished reading this story, I wanted to hug these ladies. I wanted to hold their hand, like a doting son would, and listen to them talk. But the emotional power of this story is that these are the conversations these friends have when it is only them around. These aren’t salacious or confessionary conversations, but conversations friends have when the sharing of experience is the intimacy. It’s the conversation between friends that can make what one can’t imagine, into something that can be believed.

  • We Come from Farmers

    Up until the 1920’s, both sides of my family – mother and father – were made up of farmers. Especially on my mother’s side; they had been farmers in North America since about 1660 up in Canada. My dad’s side had pretty much been substance farmers since Rome tried to cross the Rhine, but on the whole, substance farmers from Northern Illinois. Point being; farming is what my family did until they started working in factories, and then all became middle class.

    So, for a century now, people in my family have been removed from working the land. And honestly, it shows, as there really isn’t anybody in my family who can grow anything. Our luck at growing plants, gardens, or shrubberies is quite awful. We can’t make anything green grow, unless we pay someone to help us.

    Several times in the City, the wife and I have tried our hand at growing something in a flowerbox or planter on our fire escape. And sadly, nothing has lived. We did get some seeds from a lemon as part of a class project for the kid, and we managed to grow into a small lemon tree. But the lack of green thumb kicked in, and the lemon tree died last fall.

    And did I mention that we are also very lazy people…

    See, we left the lemon tree pot on the fire escape all Fall, Winter, and this Spring. We meant to get rid of it, but it functioned as a sort of plant cemetery; reminding us of our loss, and warning us if we ever got ambitious enough again.

    And then something started growing out of that pot. First we thought that the lemon tree had sprung back to life. Not sure if that is even a thing, but we thought it for a while. Then the sprouting plant began to take on the form of a recognizable weed. Not weed, but a weed – Prickly Lettuce. The thing is about a foot and a half tall, and we haven’t touched it. We are just letting it do its thing.

    I am aware that it is a weed, and I am also aware that if I touch this plant, it will be the beginning of its end. But we have something growing in a pot that is meant to grow things… so… we’re going to let this thing go, and see what happens. This will be our Summer Growing Project.

  • Happy, Yet Not Secure

    The other day, I was trying to explain to my wife how I feel most days, which is happy but completely insecure. And this, is a vast improvement over the last couple of years.

    The insecurity is not whole heartedly an emotional insecurity. It’s a financial and general safety insecurity. When I have written about our financial situation, I have always tried to be as honest as possible without betraying any personal information – and the honest assessment of our financial situation is that we are in debt. The debt (credit cards, car loans, and student loans) is manageable, but also just large enough to delay us from making sound investments in our future. Though we have made progress, it does feel like this debt will never be overcome, and because of that, the feeling of a disaster being around the corner is always with me. A disaster that will ruin us, or set us back for years. This is the feeling of insecurity that I have daily.

    But I can honestly say that this is the happiest I have been in a very long time. It’s been a little over five years since my mom’s passing, but it still feels recent. It’s difficult losing your mother, and I did have an especially close relationship with mine, and with her gone, everything felt sad. No matter what I did, or my wife did, or the kid did, there was the tinge of sadness always right at the edge of everything. It’s taken awhile, but the joy has started to return, and it’s fully based in an appreciation of the love that is around me. For that, I am grateful that I do have friends and a family to share with.

    Yet, I am left with this dualism in my life; there is so much love and joy, but also I can’t shake the feeling that I have sand underneath my feet. At best I can say that these feelings exist in a balance; nether one is stronger than the other. And the truth is that I often have to force myself to appreciate the joy and love that is around me.

    I believe that being happy is a choice. But security? Do I have to earn that?

  • ODDS and ENDS: Recovery, Tottenham’s Next Season, and This Year

    (The future is in your lap…)

    Today is the first day that I feel 100% normal. Yesterday was like 95%, and I think that had to do with the side effects of the medication I was on. Yeah, Covid sucks, and I am glad that I had avoided it for four years. I am also aware that I had a very mild case, as I would say that it felt more like I had a bad cold than anything else. Also, the being exhausted all the time made me feel like I have lost a week of my life; I just couldn’t stop sleeping, which wasn’t as pleasurable as I had hoped. I just felt lazy. Now that I am back, I have the desire to exceptionally over exert myself to compensate for my “time off.”

    Tottenham Hotspur will not play in the Champions League next season, but they will qualify for the one of the two other European football tournaments. With Spurs final game against already relegated Sheffield, odds are that Tottenham are Europa League bound. This is an improvement over last season, but I can’t shake the feeling that the team choked during the second half of the season. Ah… next season. And there is a European Cup this Summer!

    Does it feel like this year has flown by for anyone else? Swear to God, it feels like we were just wrapping up New Years like a month ago. I know that I wrote a blog about how we had planned our Summer already, and just the other day, the kid’s school sent out the academic calendar for 24/25, and it’s like Fall is basically here already. I got an email last week about getting ready for the Great Pumpkin Blaze for Halloween. But with all of this, it dawned on me that kid will leave for college in 9 years, which means we are halfway through our time with her. Nine years of being a parent has flown by, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything, but I wish it would slow down just a little bit. Perhaps I am to blame, as I forget that most of what I busy myself with really doesn’t matter.

  • And I Had Been Doing A Good Job (Unedited)

    This week, I had a plan. I put it together last week, as I was tired of my day slipping away from me, and not getting the things done that I really had my mind set in accomplishing. Knowing that this issue was caused by me (and if you have read this blog long enough, I often complain about my lack of focus and discipline) I sat down and scheduled when I would journal, when I would blog, when I would work on fiction, when I would read, do errands, shower, walk the dog, eat lunch… yes, I admit I went a little over board, but trusting myself had failed miserably.

    The times in my life when I was the most focused and disciplined was when I was working, and especially when I was in management roles. During those periods, I did have to schedule out my whole day, just to make sure that I got everything taken care of. And on the whole, it worked rather well.

    This week did start of very well. Monday and Tuesday went completely according to plan. AND I got to bed on time. Then Wednesday was rocky only because there was an unexpected illness in the home, and I do have responsibility to take care of my family. In the end, on Wednesday, I only missed going to the gym, but I accomplished everything else.

    And then today, I fell off the wagon.

    The day started great, and I was running ahead of schedule. I ordered the flower girl dress that my daughter needs for the wedding she is taking part in this Summer. I called the pediatrician’s office, and made an appointment for the kid, while simultaneously balancing the checkbook. I was on fire, which is why I decided to update and back up my iPhone on my Mac, which also meant updating the iCloud account, and…

    Goodbye Morning!

    Because once I downloaded the pics off my phone, I had to go through and delete the pictures I didn’t want anymore, which meant going through 5,000+ picture. See, I hadn’t backed up my phone in four years, and I don’t know why I thought this would be a fast process.

    (My wife had purple hair in the Pandemic, and she looked very good with it. I found the pictures which remined me of that.)

    And then, because I have no self-control, I thought that I would dig out our old Mac Mini and set that up as a hub for the family. About thirty minutes into that project, it finally dawned on me that I had pretty much shot my morning to shit, and if I didn’t stop I would lose the whole day.

    So, I am sharing this with you, let’s call it a cautionary tale, as I still want to get something done.

    Blog is done.

    I still need to journal, work on a story that is killing me to finish, get some reading in, and a sketch. I only have three hours until the kid is out of school.

    Wish me luck.