Cry if I Want To

"It's ok to cry."

I sometimes have to say these words to myself out loud.

David, my amazing husband, just got home from the gym.  He walked through the door of our Brooklyn apartment singing along to his music.  David went to the gym this afternoon (yeah...I will get back to the gym soon, I know).  I was crying on the sofa.

"Don't cry, honey"

"I'm good, I swear."

"What's wrong?"

"It's just this television series I'm watching."

"Why do you watch things that make you cry?"

"David, sometimes I just need a good cry.  How will I ever truly experience the good and awesome things if I don't let myself experience the sad ones."


MOM - don't read the rest of this if you are reading my blog.

SPOILER ALERT FOR THE TELEVISION SHOW, "THIS IS US." 



I'm watching this television series on Hulu that our friend, Jan, has recommended.  It's called "This is Us."  It really has hit a lot of my emotions.

Today, though, it touched all of my buttons.  Over the past few episodes, we have fallen in love with the sweet old grandpa who ends up being gay.  On this episode, we follow him to the end.  As he is about to die, he tells his son, "I am scared."

These words opened my flood gates today.  You see, those were the last words my sweet, loving, awesome grandmother said before she died.  It was two years ago, and she was on the phone with her son the day after Christmas and had a stroke.  I miss her.  I miss her a lot.  I was missing her every day.  Now I only miss her when I'm reminded of her.  My mom collected a bunch of little things from grandma's house when she passed.  She had an angel collection and a bell collection.  I have one of each in my living room.  She had dozens of salt and pepper shakers, and I have a pair of those.  In fact, my twin brother bought me a pair of new ones that remind me of her too.  Every time David and I cook a meal, we have her spoon rest on the stove, so that her love is in our food too.  At every party, we put out a green carnival glass dish full of nuts or candy that was in her house.  I want her at all of my parties.

You see, my grandmother was great at parties.  No matter how much people didn't like each other, had bad blood, didn't trust each other, were poor, or rich, clean, or dirty, smelly or sweet smelling, grandma wanted them all to get along at her parties.....AND WE DID.  For grandma, we would put away old grudges.  In fact, if grandma came to my parent's place, we put away our fighting, too, just to spend time in her loving company.

That's who I want to be.  I struggle sometimes.  I fight with my brother, or snap at my mom.  I decide not to invite someone over because they were rude to me at my last dinner party.

Thanks, grandma for being at all of my parties and reminding me to be loving.  Yeah, I'm going to cry a little today as I miss you.  I'm sorry you were scared at the end.  I hope you are in a better place now.


As I finish this, my husband just came back in from outside again....
"I don't like this thing you are doing."
"I know, David, thanks for loving me even when I cry."

Cathartis - Come From Away

It was cathartic yesterday afternoon, to sit in a darkened theater with two dozen college friends and hundreds of strangers and cry.  We were there to fete an old friend.  Some of us went to Hartwick College with him, were fraternity brothers with him, performed with him over the years and had followed his career trajectory.  Others didn't know him or any of the performers on the stage, but instead came to see a show on Broadway.

What, I think, we all shared was a moment or a string of moments where we relived that painful day on September 11, 2001.  Come From Away is finishing previews on Broadway.

As I stepped into the theater, I was hoping for a good show.  I wasn't expecting much.  I read the reviews, looked at the news articles, and read the story that the show was based on.  I didn't think that the writers would be able to pull enough out of the story to put together a musical, let alone an entertaining one.  I was there to support my friend and see some other friends.

I'm pleased to say that the writers and performers proved me wrong.  I'm usually an emotional person.  I admit that freely.  I've seen quite a few broadway shows in the past two years.  I've enjoyed some of them (Kinky Boots and Lion King) while hating or sleeping through many others (Cats, On the Town, etc.).  This is the first time in my two years of living in Brooklyn where I've been glued to my seat.  I didn't want to miss a word or a note.  The tears started flowing as the second song began and kept on flowing through the end of the show almost 90 minutes later.  I even had to get up to use the bathroom (no intermission) and didn't want to miss anything.  I cried while I ran down the steps to the restroom and cried when i entered the theater again.

This isn't a sad show.  Don't get me wrong.  This show is beautiful.  The story line has been weaved into a magic tapestry of humanity and human goodness.  Our friend Tom summed it up best at the end of the show when he said, "We, each one of us, was remembering where we were, how we felt, and all of those crazy emotions on that day."  In this political climate with vitriol and hate, we are reminded that there are good people out there.  It's fitting that our neighbors to the north are highlighted so well in the musical.

Come from away is the story of 38 planes stranded in Gander, Newfoundland, Canada when the USA closed it's air space on September 11th and how the tiny villages welcomed the strangers from around the world with open arms and hearts.

The writers have peppered the show with kindness and humor.  They have also captured the emotions and feelings that so many of us went through when we found out that planes had been used as weapons in the Pentagon, NYC, and Pennsylvania.....feelings of confusion, fear, disgust, anger, anguish, and hurt.  The actors bring you almost to the point of sobbing before you hear some heartfelt jokes and uplifting music.

The people of Gander, and this truly inspiring show remind us of who we are and who we are called to be.  People from all races, cultures, genders, sexualities, and religions prayed together, ate together, and mourned together on that day around the world.  They supported each other with open arms, hearts, a warm place to sleep, and home-cooked food to eat.

I have been replaying scene after scene from the musical in my head over and over again since the matinee yesterday afternoon.  I'm inspired to try to be better, more loving, and more caring.  We all have the ability to be welcoming and loving.  Now let's show the world that's who we can be too.

Memories of a metal feed cart

Yesterday as I was walking through the hospital basement to the mail room to pick up a package, I noticed one the large carts that they use to transport things.  I was reminded of a childhood memory.

Growing up on a farm, you start doing chores as soon as you can safely help out.  When you are little, that typically means feeding the animals and staying away from their back end where you might get kicked.

As my twin brother and I got old enough to help out with heavier things, my father trusted us with more and more chores.

One of the things we had to do to feed the cows was to wheel around a large metal box cart of feed.  This particular feed was called silage and came from our silo.  Silage is fermented hay or corn.  The silage cart that my father owned at the time was very heavy and metal.  I looked online for images, but couldn't find any.  Picture a metal box on wheels that is approximately 4 feet tall, 5 feet long, and 3 feet wide.

My dad would fill this cart full of silage/feed to feed the cows.  Our job was to wheel it around and give a large forkful (pitchfork) full of feed to each cow.  We, of course, had to give our favorite cows a little extra.  The feed cart was so heavy that it took both of us to push it.  We would rock it to get it moving and then move it ahead a few feet before we took out some feed.  It was heavy when it was empty, but especially so when it was full.

To understand why this made me laugh, you have to understand the construction of small scale barns in the mid 1900s.  Today's barns are large open sheds where each cow gets their own feed area, but where farmers can use a large front end loader to scoop out the manure.  My parent's farm only had 30 or so cows.

Each cow had its own assigned spot in the barn.  Each cow was a registered pure bred cow.  They had name tags above their spots.  Sometimes a cow would go in the wrong spot, and you would have to move it back to it's rightful spot.  My dad would put cows who were trouble on the ends so they would only have a cow on one side to fight with.  Once in a while, a cow had to be moved to a new spot and you had to spend a few weeks guiding it there when you brought them in from pasture until the cow learned it (some cows never learned and you were forever trying to move them to the new spot).

The cows were lined up on both sides of the barn with a large alley in the middle.  At the top of their heads was a vacuum pipeline.  We would hook milking machines up to the pipeline to suck the milk from the cows and into a large tank in the milkhouse, a clean separate room in the barn where milk was stored and chilled until it could be picked up by the milk truck tanker.  Just behind the cows butts, was a gutter with a metal chain in it that had sticks on it.  When you cleaned the cows twice every day you would scrape their manure into this gutter.  At the end of the day, you would turn on the machine that made the chain move around the track in the gutter and pulled all the manure around the track and up into a manure spreader (we of course rarely used the word manure, preferring the more vulgar term that seemed much more fitting for something that smelled so bad - shit).

Half way down the barn there were two side passage ways to help you cross the barn.  The gutter had a large metal plate over it on each side.  This was so you could wheel wheelbarrows of food or carts across.  Well, as kids, we didn't have enough strength to wheel these slowly, so we had to get a running start.  Many times, we would end up knocking the entire feed cart into the gutter of shit because we were unable to steer it or because the angle knocked the gutter cover into the gutter catching the wheels of this heavy cart in shit too.

My father sometimes had a temper.  For some reason, I only remember him slightly mad at this and never super angry.  After all, we were doing our best to help feed the cows. It wasn't until much later in life that I could wheel that cart without help.  When we were kids, the cart was as tall as us.  We couldn't lift the cart out of the gutter or even lift the gutter cover (although some of it was that the gutter cover was covered in messy shit and we didn't want to touch it).  It was always a pain in the butt to get that cart across the gutters.

I'm grateful, though, that from an early age, my dad had us helping in the barn.  To this day, I don't like to sit still and always keep busy.  I'd like to think I work as hard as he does and did to make sure we had a good life, but I don't think that will ever be possible.  Dad worked and worked and worked to provide for us.  Most farmers did and do.  All I can do is try to live up to the example he sets.

The Adventure of my First Married Christmas

A custom christmas ornament from my twin brother, John that says "Our 1st Married Christmas 2016"

During our wedding on July 30, 2016, David and I promised each other that we would seek out adventure and make sure that we didn't live dull lives.  We would thrive on new exciting experiences. We didn't realize that one of them would be on Christmas morning.

We decided to stay in NYC.  We both had a lot of work to do and we have been trying to be more frugal in our spending.  Christmas Eve, David worked (or so I thought) until almost 9:00 p.m.  What I didn't realize was that he was also getting the last of my Christmas gifts.  I'm the kind of shopper that has all of my shopping done a month in advance and has done most of it online.  He is a bit more last minute.

David came home and we got ready and went to Middle Collegiate Church for the service.  It was really beautiful and the perfect way to get us in the right mood.  Our friend Jeremy was there playing the organ and piano and had done some wonderful gospel arrangements.  After the service, we stopped into a pub to grab a drink.  Then we came home and crashed.

Christmas morning, I was up at my usual 7:00 a.m. and spent some time reading some books that I got for my birthday and waiting for David to wake up.  He had been working many late nights and I knew he needed some sleep.

When he first woke up, we decided to google video chat with my mom so we could open the gifts from her that we put under our tree. It was so much fun to chat with her.  Her video chat had not been working, but it worked Christmas morning.  We closed all of the shades to make sure that we didn't have a glare.  Mom got us matching pajamas (our first pair ever).  She got David some American flag cufflinks and me a pair of golden snitch ones.  She also got each of us some other clothes and things. David's big gift from her was a deep fryer.  She got me books on investing and other things I had asked for.  We spent more than an hour talking to her.

Then David and I sat down to open gifts from each other.  I got him a cashmere coat and a piece of art that he had admired as his two big gifts.

David also was cold a lot in the winter, so I found this onesie.  I think it was one of his favorite gifts.  He wore it every day for a week when he came home from work.  I think he's cute as a button in it.  

David really went above and beyond my expectations.  He got me the most beautiful watch, a nice backpack, a camera lens, and a comfortable and fashionable scarf.

We were feeling very blessed and enjoying each other.  We had tried on all of our clothes from our families and each other and started to put them away.  We opened up the waffle maker that my twin brother gave me for my birthday and made some waffles.  We lit the candles in all of our candle holders and put netflix on the fireplace channel.  It was really fun.  Our waffles were great.  Then we retreated to our bedroom to work on my laptop which was under the bed to putting together our wedding album.  The photos had arrived three days before and there was a coupon that we wanted to use.  We spent about an hour putting together the album when David smelled smoke.  We walked around the bedroom and couldn't find the source.  

When I opened the bedroom door, a plume of smoke invaded the bedroom.  I ran out into the living room and the entire coffee table was engulfed in flames.  I yelled at David to grab water.  He did and then I went to do the same.  At about that time, someone started banging on our door and buzzing our buzzer.  David managed to get the fire out, but the apartment was full of smoke and we couldn't see.  Neither of us had put pants back on after trying on our clothes.  I rummaged in the smoke and put on backwards the one pair of sweatpants with the broken string.  I managed to get to the door and open it, and there were a dozen neighbors there yelling at me.  One handed me a fire extinguisher.  I stood holding up my broken pants and just wanted to work on getting the smoke out.  One concerned neighbor kept yelling and asking if David was ok.  I said yes, but she wouldn't have it.  I yelled at him to find some pants and come show them he was ok.

We then rushed around opening windows and trying to air out the smoke with fans.  It was cold, but not unbearable.  

When we finally got some of the smoke to clear, we noticed that the one candle we forgot to extinguish was on our coffee table in a centerpiece that my mom had made us.  We were fortunate.  We only lost our three remotes, a candle lighter, and had minor damage to our carpet and coffee table.

Our wedding photo thumb drive, some DVDs, magazines, and other things were all on the same table, but were not ruined.  The ball of flames was only the center piece and the remotes burning.  All of our Christmas gifts including the big gift from each of us to each other were on the sofa next to the table.  We were not hurt.  No one was hurt.  We didn't lose much.  The smell, after much cleaning and airing out, and some febreeze dissipated after two weeks.  We got new remotes, and I sanded the spot in the coffee table.  It is now even more distressed and charming than before.

We now know that it is no joke to leave a candle unattended.  We never intended to do so, but are more diligent.  I also purchased a new smoke detector that is very good and doesn't go off every time I cook.  That had happened that morning and I had taken the battery out again.  Modern smoke detectors seem to be smarter.

I feel like we will continue to be blessed with adventures.  I'm hopeful that more of our adventures will be planned in advance (like my Christmas shopping), but all of them will result in blessings and not losses.

How to do customer service right....my move to online shopping

Since moving to Brooklyn, my online shopping has increased significantly.  I thought I did a lot of online shopping when I lived on adorable Goodyear Lake just outside Oneonta, New York.

                                   The View from my little cottage on the lake in Autumn.

Little did I know that the crowds in Brooklyn stores were outrageously long.  On top of that, the clerks and staff are very rude, the stores are disorganized messes, and the prices seem to be higher.

My friend Sandra posted on Facebook that she had fallen in love with a pair of shoes.  She jokingly said she wanted them for her Birthday.  She was kind enough to play cello at our wedding as a gift to us.  She is a very talented cellist.  The music was so beautiful that it brought tears to my eyes.  We've been wanting to send her a thank you that was better than the small gift card we gave her at the wedding.  This was the perfect opportunity.  I found the website and ordered her the cutest little peacock shoes.  Zebidah.com - I'd never heard of them.  I don't even know how Sandra found them. There was no option that I could find to send a card or gift wrap, so I emailed the general email.

Dearest Customer service people,

This is a special birthday gift for a friend.  I didn't see the option, but if you can, would you please put a note in that says Happy Birthday from Eric and David?  It can even be written on a scrap of paper.  

If not, I understand.  I just thought it was worth a try.  

Thanks,

Eric

Within a few minutes, I got an awesome reply. 

Sure!
We got you.
Please see attached.

Is it good?

Thank you so much!Yash SareenCustomer Support

All I could do was smile.  Now that is a great response.  They got a real card and put it in the mailing without even charging me extra.  If I ever need to buy women's shoes again, I think I'll look here first.  They are top notch.  

Sandra got the shoes and loved them. This too made us smile. It was a fun way to surprise someone who has been so special to us.  

I didn't have to wait in line.  I had no rude people to deal with.  I found the perfect product, and I got to give some love along with it. 

Thank you to Yash for making this gift delivery extra special.

Coming out to my Grandmother

My grandmother on my father's side worked very hard for her entire life.  She worked multiple jobs to make sure that her 8 children had food, clothes, and opportunities.  My grandfather also worked multiple jobs including working many years at Alcoa.  They were married for 56 years before he passed away over a decade ago from complications from Alzheimers. 

If you are a regular reader, you know that I got married this past summer.  It was a small wedding and we were trying to keep things low key.  That didn't work, so we went full public with our response. I purposely didn't invite extended family to my wedding.  My siblings were the blood relatives that attended along with one cousin and one aunt who I count among my closest and most supportive family.

Although I have not hidden my sexuality, at the request of my family, I've been very evasive when I visit my small home town.  Until I met my husband, David, I never brought anyone home for any family event, homecoming, or holiday.  In fact, I was the only "single" family member and frequently got the sofa in my family's small home at the holidays.  

At Thanksgiving, I received a box of Christmas ornaments and decorations from my grandmother.  She is downsizing and doesn't want them thrown away.  Included with them are things that I gave to her or my grandfather over the years.  

Along with the box came a lovely note from my grandmother.  I've never officially come out to her.  Although I have aunts who have had "special friends" for many years, I wasn't sure how to tell her myself.  I know through stories in my family that she was aware that I was gay, but we just avoided the topic.  I was evasive when we visited and used gender neutral pronouns when speaking about my dating life.  

In the note at Thanksgiving, she mentioned that although she doesn't have a computer, use the internet, or check out "the Facebook," my aunt Debbie told her about my wedding.  Gram mentioned that she missed hearing from me.  To be frank, I hadn't written to her since meeting David other than a Christmas card the year before.  Prior to meeting him, I would try to write once every month or so.  

David has become such an important part of my life that I couldn't figure out what to write without including him in any note to her.  

After reading her note, I decided that it was time to bite the bullet and just tell her.  No more hiding.  I sent her our Christmas Card with a note inserted.  

The gist of the letter went something like this:

Dear Gram,

I apologize for not writing sooner.  Things are going well for me in Brooklyn.  Yes I did get married this summer.  I kept the wedding very small and only invited close friends, mom and dad, and my siblings.  I wasn't sure how you felt about me being gay or gay marriage.  I know that it isn't the most comfortable thing for mom, dad, or our family.  I married a Nigerian man in Rochester.  I've decided that regardless of what other people think, I need to live my life for me, and not them.  David is a social worker and he models part time.  I've taken up photography outside of work and frequently go with him to shows.  I'll try to be better about writing more often.  I sent your Christmas gift directly from the company and you should get it soon.  

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Love,

Eric

I also included my new last name.  I put a stamp on the letter and was shaking when I dropped it in the mail.  How was she going to react?  What would mom and dad say when they found out I told her.  I know they are both still learning to accept who I am.  

Well, Gram didn't disappoint.  I got a letter back from her shortly after.  

Dear Eric and Friend,

First I received your two packages on Friday, December 9th.  I haven't opened them as I don't open my gifts until Christmas.  Thanks very much.  I hear from you more often than I hear from my grand children close by.  Anthony calls about every two weeks and came to see me when he was up in October for a wedding.  

As I don't have a computer, don't do email, facebook, etc. I heard about your wedding from Aunt Debbie who saw it on Facebook.  Your mom hasn't mentioned it.  One day when your dad came alone we had a little visit.  He seems to take everything in stride and doesn't get too concerned with things that he can't change.  

So many things have changed in my lifetime of 85 years and can't imagine the ones to come.  Grandpa and I were married 56 years when he passed away 11 years ago.  God created us all different and some things are harder to accept.  

Things here are fine and I count my blessings and am thankful for my family and friends each day.  

I'm still playing cards Monday, shuffle board on Tuesday, and of course the dance twice a month.  I went on a bus trip to St. Catherine's Ontario to see an Irish singer.  Yesterday I went to Morrisburg to see a play with 45 on a bus.  

It's snowing here 3" so far so I moved my car about 8:00 a.m.

With love, Happiness, and Prayers,
Gram

p.s. - Thanks again. 

I'm not sure how I can describe in words how that made me feel.  I'd like to say that relieved was the first emotion that came over me.  I also teared up a little.  I know that my life isn't easy for some people to understand, especially people who grew up in small towns far from cities that are not very diverse or accepting of people who may be different.  Just seeing a letter addressed to "Dear Eric and Friend" brought tears to my eyes and a little belly laugh.  My dear aunt who passed had a "friend" for many years who she lived with.  We love that "friend" who is still an important part of our family.  

I'm also glad that now when I go to visit my parents, I don't have to leave David somewhere or make him hide when Grandma visits.  Our family photos that include him can be sent to her too.  All of this has been causing me stomach aches since I met him.  My siblings, too, have not been sure what to do. We always take a family photo and send a copy to Gram. 

I hate to lie.  I hate to hide.  Now it can all be in the open.  

So that was my Christmas gift from my grandmother. I hope that you all have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.  I'm off to Christmas Eve Service. 

Lessons from Ice Skating

David has been asking me to take him ice skating for over a year.  We were unable to make it work with our schedules last winter.  Since that time, we moved to a different neighborhood.  Our apartment is now much closer to prospect park.

Friday night, we went to the skating rink in the park to ice skate. Let me tell you, David is very athletic.  Every time we have been out to try some new athletic activity, he picks it up so fast.  Coming from my background, this is hilarious and impressive.  It took me years to figure out how to bowl without gutter balls over and over (his first time involve three strikes in a row and two games well over 150).  

When I was a kid, my whole family ice skated.  We spent time cleaning off the pond to skate and even flooded our front yard to make a skating rink.  My dad and brother played ice hokey almost every weekend with our neighbors.  Dad played well into his 50s on an international ice hockey league.  

We had a 4H skating party at our house one winter.  Mom always was amazing with her hot chocolate skills (warmed milk in a pot on the stove with nestle quick and some cool whip).  My twin brother and I were a bit slower learning how to ice skate than our siblings and parents.  My first pair of skates was an old pair of mom's figure skates.  I learned how to stop using my toe, instead of a snow plow stop like a hockey player.  It took me years to be able to skate without falling over and over again.  

David was different.  He managed to only fall once, and that was because he was trying to take his hat and gloves off while continuing to skate. 

I managed to not fall at all and even managed to skate backwards a few inches at a time (one of the things I'm working on).  

As I watched him, and we laughed, memories of my childhood came flooding back.  I would spend hours with my brothers and sister trying to skate.  We had to wait until dad said it was ok to go onto the ice.  If my memory serves me, he used to test the ice by heaving a huge block of wood onto it first to see if it would break.  Then he would go out tentatively on it to test it.  We had a pond across the road from our house that was most often used.  I do remember on time when all of the neighbors came and we all skated up and down the swamp corridor that was overflow from Brandy brook.  We used our snow boots as goal posts and always had a fire going off the ice to warm up if we needed to. 

David's skating reminded me of a few things.  

1.) You can't be afraid to fall.  Falling is one of the only ways to learn how to skate.  Even the best skaters fall.
2.) It's ok to hold on to the railing as you figure things out.  We all need a little bit of support now and again.
3.) Sometimes you need to be left alone to figure things out (David was much more likely to try things when I wasn't next to him).  
4.) Even the most experienced skaters have room to grow and learn.  I'm definitely not experienced, but I know I can skate in circles and almost not fall most of the time.  I'm learning to stop and to skate backwards while David is just learning to stay up.
5.) It's ok to start slow.
6.) You have to take some risks if you are going to figure things out.
7.) If you dress warmly enough, only your face will get cold.
8.) Skating uses muscles that we don't use daily. 
9.) It's really awesome to get out during the winter and have some fun.  It makes winter easier to bear.  I was reminded of this when I heard an NPR interview about Hygge.  Hygge (pronounced hue-gah) is a Danish word that is a feeling or mood that comes taking genuine pleasure in making ordinary, every day moments more meaningful, beautiful or special. When winter doldrums get you down, you have to find something to pick your spirits up.  

I hope you all find some joy in the coming winter months.  Learn something new, try a new sport, try an old thing with friends who haven't done it before.  Laugh, get some sun, re-live old memories.  If you want company, call or email us.  We love adventures.