Mom Mom Mom #38: Home Again

A day at the beach in New Jersey.

This column runs in the August 27 edition of the Alameda Sun. Comments are always welcome, here or on Twitter!

You can Go Home Again

We made our annual trek to the east coast again this summer, the girls and I. Although it was our third summer vacation east of the Mississippi in a row, this time it was different. This time we spent either every day or part of every day with family. Depending on your perspective (and your relationship with your own family), that kind of trip could be a heavenly experience or a harrowing one. For me, it was a little bit of both.

Usually on these vacations, we spend most of the time with friends and let the family see us coming and going, literally. The real difference this year was that my brothers and sisters and I found our way back home together with our father at the same time. It’s a rare occurrence—the last time we were all together was at my mother’s funeral 11 years ago. A lot has happened since then and I didn’t want my girls or me to miss this opportunity.

We covered a lot of ground during our trip. We caravanned up to Vermont to see my younger sister and got a quick taste of her family’s country living in a beautiful, pastoral setting. With her infinite hospitality, she managed to entertain 18 people throughout a very rainy day. Then we headed back to New Jersey, spending a good chunk of the remaining time driving from the New York to the Pennsylvania borders and down to the shore. In fact, one day, six of us packed into my Dad’s Buick to drive 200 miles, never leaving the fourth-smallest state in the union, to meet my father’s first great-grandchild (a girl, of course!) and then to see more cousins.

It’s amazing the dynamics that happen when you reunite with your family. I guess I should limit that statement to just one person—what happens to me. I return every year thinking that I have changed so much, seen so much, been through so much and I think people, both old friends and family, will see that, notice that I’ve changed and grown up into this fabulous person. What I noticed was that as soon as I land, I turn into an awkward teenage girl all over again, all the benefits of my age and wisdom quickly dropping to the wayside. It took a few days for me to realize this and I had to really shift my awareness. I am not a teenager anymore. This time, when I left the east coast, I left feeling like a grown up.

I wonder if it’s true for families that don’t separate. If I saw my brothers and sisters every day here in Alameda, would I still turn into the awkward teenage girl that I become now when I see them all? Or, if I hadn’t left New Jersey, would I be the same person I am today?

I don’t believe that people really change that much. Things happen to you—college, marriage, the deaths of loved ones, the birth of children, divorce, illness, careers—but what changes inherently? I often wonder if it’s all of your successes and failures that determine who you are or if it’s who you are that determines your outcome. Maybe it’s a little bit of both.

Thinking back over the journey, I can’t help but think, “Wherever you go, there you are.” The good news is that this time, I have realized what triggers the emergence of that awkward teenage girl and am learning to be the Mary Lee she has grown into. It’s a lesson I want to somehow teach my girls. That you are just you, a combination of all ages of you, and maybe it’s not all that bad.

Mom, Mom, Mom #29

This should run in the July 24 Alameda Sun. 

 

What Would Your Six Words Be?

There’s a site on the Internet called Smith Magazine (smithmag.net) that I’ve only recently discovered. It’s a storytelling site and on it are a few creative writing exercises. One has really stirred me up, called “Six-word Momoirs,” in which the site poses the question:  What can you say about motherhood in just six words? The entry I submitted was:  “It’s all going by too fast.” Not as clever as Michelle Norman’s “Stretchmarks are the roadmap of life,” but it’s pretty much how I feel these days. How did it get to be summer already? And soon school will open and then it’s Christmas and then high school and college and, well, you get the picture.

 

For the two or three of you paying attention and remotely interested, I am still pursuing a near-vegan lifestyle. (A near-vegan is someone who doesn’t eat meat or dairy, but might eat honey and wear leather.) It’s been an incredible learning experience and I continue to learn new things everyday, some good—like, quinoa (keen-wa) is a power food! It’s a whole grain with a lot of protein! and some not so good, like Trader Joe’s Joe-Joe cookies are vegan! After consuming several boxes on my own (It’s vegan! It has to be good for you!), I must now look away when I get to that section of the Trader Joe’s at South Shore.

 

I am enjoying this focus on food. I haven’t been as obsessive as I usually am when I “diet,” which is a method that always ends in ruin. This time, I am approaching food with a researcher’s eye, as well as an open mind and palate. It has been a challenge to feed the girls and me, for now we have a near-vegan, a vegetarian and two carnivores in the house. I work hard to have a dinnertime, when we sit around the table, eat roughly the same meal (with a few alterations depending on who you are) and spend some time together.

We leave soon for our summer trip to the east coast, and I am curious as to how I will handle being a near-vegan on the road. I have already told the girls that I am eating pizza—the horribly unhealthy New York style with mounds of melted cheese, cut into triangles you have to fold and hold over the plate letting the grease drip off before you take the first bite. Oh, yes, and I will have a soft-serve vanilla cone dipped in chocolate on the boardwalk down the Shore. I am not even sure it it’s truly ice cream, but who cares?

 

People have been asking me why I am doing this “whole vegan thing,” as my sister calls it. What was at first a lark, a “can-I-make-it-through-Lent” experiment, has morphed into a daily trial and error of healthy living. I haven’t lost much weight, but I feel better—lighter, somehow. I also can’t help thinking that I am contributing to the fight for the environment in my own small way. Maybe this will lengthen my time on this earth, help reduce my carbon footprint while allowing me to take a few more steps and spend more time with my family, my beautiful children. Because these days I feel it’s all rushing by me too quickly.

 

So, my near-vegan experience can be expressed in six words:  An attempt to add more time.