"You Have Entered The Twilight Zone..."

It has been a whirlwind holiday season with many ups and downs.  Rather than focusing on the downs, I'm clinging tightly to the ups.  Romeyn and I have taken most of the "holiday stretch" (the weeks of Christmas and New Year's Eves) as vacation time.  Given recent developments and our proclivity to soldier on regardless of what is going on otherwise, the time off is a god-send.  I've officially reached the point of Vacation Brain (repeated brainless moments for which I do not need to apologize...extravagances, to be sure).

My little collection of musical instruments has grown this season!  Hammered dulcimer, acoustic/electric bass guitar, and a nose whistle (yes, that's a thing).  I'm so excited.  I'm a little bummed that I managed to break a string while tuning the guitar, but new strings are quickly en route.  My plan is to learn bass riffs so that I have the excuse to play mostly melody (not rhythm).  My plan for the hammered dulcimer is to accompany Romeyn so that we can play together for things like the annual Camp Party.   Oooh, and let's not forget the book of Daniel Nahmod rock-hymns just waiting to be learned.

My new (Introvert-friendly) project is this:  I am going to create homemade wings for our Christmas tree topper.  It was an angel a few years ago, but one of our former kitties made short work of the wings (real feathers made for an irresistible target).  My in-laws gave me a nice mold-making set so I have some options for wing creation.  Wax?  Would that be too much in the vein of alternative mythologies?  Clay would be too heavy (even with epoxy to seal 'em onto the topper...the topper is pretty light and might break with the load).  I do have a fair amount of foam-backed poster board and heavy grade construction paper.  In any case, the planning has commenced!

Many thanks to all who have made this season easier to navigate through weather alternatively fair and inclement.  I have the best friends and family a person could want, totally sensitive to the contrary whims of fate and the impacts felt by their resident Introvert.  Happy New Year, everyone!

Elf Yourself

Partially as a reaction to wearing black for a few weeks, I broke out the red and green today in a major way.  Green leggings with a red sheath dress, and an elf headband.  As my husband recently posted on Facebook, I'm largely responsible for the current infusion of Christmas Spirit in our house.  We have tinsel hanging from a support beam, Christmas Cards lining the wall near the ceiling, ropes of lights surrounding the bay window and our Christmas tree, and so many ornaments that I've lost count.  The stockings are ready, the presents are wrapped.  We have a few back-up items on reserve just in case a Christmas Emergency arises.  We have extra Christmas cards just in case anyone forgot until the very last minute.  The Yule Log (a naturally gluten-free cake made primarily in the style of chocolate-flavored meringue) is in the fridge waiting to be eaten while we open presents tomorrow.  Peppermint brownies were made in a tree-shaped pan, and a cheese-board has been prepared.

The season is upon us.  You can hide away and hope that the celebrations of the season go quickly, or you can Elf Yourself.  I've chosen to Elf it up with a passion this year.  One can reasonably critique the season with an eye on overbearing consumerism, forced social gatherings, and loud music.   However, one can also give oneself over to the mood of the season, and prevail over the consumer-based frenzy with a winning combination of decorations, attitude, and song.  My Introvert survival tools for the season are exactly these:  Decorations, attitude, and song!

The 100 Friends and Family You Never Knew You Had...

When my sister and I were very little (toddler and baby), my mother drove us to New York State from a little town in Ohio.  We lived in this tiny little yellow apartment in Westchester, then a green one, and then our very own house!  I remember bolting up the stairs in the house in order to lay claim to the room at the top of the stairs.  Back then, privacy on the phone was acquired by snaking an extension of the phone cord up and around the stairs, and then shutting the door.  We thought we were super-smart to think up such a strategy (not realizing that little girls have been trying that since the sixties...).

It was wonderful to grow up near New York City.  Some of my friends are glad not to be in White Plains, but I get nostalgic.  It wasn't at all close to relatives or family friends---at least at first.  However, it was a wonderful, creative and exciting place to call home.

We're in Ohio this weekend for the second/final funeral for my grandmother.  It has been an exhausting yet memorable experience.  I've written a few postcards during the moments of down time in between memorial events.  We've spent a lot of time preparing and updating supplies for each event.  My grandmother is worth every hour spent on these activities.  She's worth a lot more than that. 

One of the reasons that our previous Ohioan experience (when I was a baby and not yet old enough to understand the implications of life here versus life in New York State) has come to mind this evening is that we are always so glad to see our extended families out here.  We won't really have a reason to come back to my grandmother's home-town after this trip.  I've seen and met a lot of people that either met me when I was a baby, or have never met me at all.  I've been called by my mother's name repeatedly because I look just like she did at my age (and younger).  A part of me will always regret that our family moved from this state to another, because the more extended the family member, the less likely it is that we have met or will meet.

The take-away from this experience is clear--one should take every opportunity to know the people in their lives, even on the periphery.  However exhausting this is to an Introvert in the short term, the long term benefits of friendship and family outweigh the negatives by far.

Memory Book

One of my tasks this week is to put together a memory book and a slide show, both of which are to be at the second funeral for Grandma this coming weekend in Ohio.  I'm not going to lie--this is sad work.  It is a labor of love, and the photos of Grandma looking so incredibly happy with Popie are the ones that really get me nostalgic.  I'm to work on it during lunch today and then after work.   I've been working on it before work too.  It has to be done today, otherwise it might not be ready for this weekend.  As it stands, we're looking at ordering the book and sending it to ourselves at the B&B near the church and the funeral home.  How do you encompass memories everyone has of a woman who took the world by storm in an era where feminism was brand new?  Carefully, lovingly, and with a gentle touch.

Sorry-Grateful

The first funeral was beautiful, and as tumultuous as advertised.  I am extremely thankful to my family and our friends for working so hard to provide a fitting service for my grandmother.   Today, we bring my grandmother's green chair home to Potsdam.  It will be bittersweet to use it but it is one of the best ways I know to honor Grandma's memory.   This is the chair she used to perch me in under the "nuclear-strength" reading light in the house in Chillicothe.  This is the chair where my grandfather used to smoke his pipe and watch movies on the VCR with us grand-kids.  This is the chair where my grandmother sat and chatted about current events and precious memories.  I am sorry-grateful to honor her memory in this way.  I am thankful-sorry for the chance to read in the green chair under the nuclear-strength light and remember my grandparents and all the times we shared.

Present in Mourning

At long last, we've arrived in Rochester for the first of two funerals.   Today will be a lot of hard work and even more difficult mourning.  My beloved stepsons and husband are here with me, and I don't think I could do this without them.  I am to give one of the testimonials (eulogizing for three minutes), to read my grandmother's favorite poem (a piece on being Christian by Maya Angelou), and to help set up and clean up the gathering set for after the first funeral.

My grandmother's ashes are in a beautiful urn on my mother's piano.  A small shrine surrounds the blue and gold floral urn, with candles and bible passages.  I try not to cry when I look at it.  Last night, I failed.  We were saying goodnight, and out of habit I wished a good night to my grandma (whenever she visited when I was a child, saying goodnight to Grandma was a treat rewarded with "Goodnight, Mandina!").  I cried every step of the way upstairs to the apartment in my mother's house.  I couldn't sleep for hours after that.  I just had to get away and cry.

Crying is an underrated and judged form of expression in our culture.  It is hard for an Introvert to be seen crying, perhaps more so than for others.  It brings unwanted social attention when all we want to do is have a minute to express the feeling without needing to be switched "on" for social interaction.

My grandma was an amazing person, aside from being a wonderful grandparent and friend.  She deserves every tear, even if it means that today brings absolute social burn-out.  I miss you, Grandma.

Mourning Strategy: Do What Makes You Happy

My mother is one of the smartest people that I know.   She's a believer in self-care, especially when one is juggling many responsibilities while dealing with the Big Moments in life.   Today, she told me that she decorated the house for Christmas after having determined that: 1. She didn't have to do it; and 2. It would really make her happy.  This is an awesome strategy for muddling through stress and sadness. 

Quite frankly, it's a beautiful strategy in general.  Most of us seek balance of one kind or another in our lives.   We seek experiences and activities that light us up inside and out.  When we feel low it is tempting to neglect ourselves.  However, these are the most important times in which to practice kindness to ourselves and others.

Cooking, reading, and volunteerism light me up from the inside out.  I was tempted to postpone a Lions-Club related meeting today, but at the last minute it made the most sense to keep the plan.   Volunteerism of any kind makes me happy.  1. I didn't have to do it.  2. It really made me happy.

Mourning Morgantown (The Song Joni Mitchell Never Sang...)

Early this week, my mother's mother passed away quickly and quietly.  The peace she sought for so many years is finally at hand.   Wishing desperately to feel glad for her peace, those of us left behind feel overwhelming grief at the loss of a brilliant woman and a loving family member, anger at the world for taking her so suddenly, and disquiet because of the Rosemary-shaped hole left in our lives.

Introverts are either intensely graceful in grief, or (inadvertently and without intent) terribly offensive in grief.  Most of us are a combination of both in turns.  Don't mistake our quiet for lack of feeling.   Don't mistake brooding and processing for stonewalling.  The depth of sorrow takes a toll on our ability to express anything useful, and you know that your Introvert wants to make social time of any sort as productive and useful as possible.

My grandmother loved to provoke me into thoughtful arguments, providing the most useful and productive social times and memories of my life.  She taught me things that no one else really could.  She will always be missed.

Volume, Irony, Laughter

Romeyn and I met up with a friend in Albany last night to go to the Gabriel "Fluffy" Iglesias event at The Palace.  Our plan was to meet up at The City Beer Hall to catch up before the show.  Little did we know that the volume would be so incredible.  The food was excellent and we each sampled a brew, but we actually resorted to texting each other at the table in order to maintain a reasonable level of conversation. Somewhere, my piercingly intelligent sister is twitching (either as she reads this, or for a reason she does not yet know until she does read it...).  Texting at the table does rather give credence to the idea that civilization is crumbling at the feet of Great Technology.  Another might argue that crowded (and thus achingly loud) pubs are also a sign of the end times.

Regardless, we did manage to keep good conversation going despite very loud conditions.

The great irony of the evening is that we (two Introverts and a combination Introvert/Extrovert) had our best social time of the evening during the walk between The City Beer Hall and The Palace.  Normally, taking this sort of stroll between two popular points of interest on a Friday night would be a loud and crowded experience.  The cold and the inclement weather resulted in a leisurely stroll with few passers-by and a bit of Excellent Socialization (rare in the world of the Introvert, especially in public places).

At the tail end of our evening, we saw an amazing show featuring the talents of Gabriel "Fluffy" Iglesias.  We LOVE his jokes about food, weight, and challenging interactions with other people.  We laughed so hard that Romeyn and I (already sick with the annual Potsdam Plague) got a little sicker as a result.  The experience was well worth a little extra discomfort.  At one point, Fluffy actually sang part of "Sweet Caroline" and got the audience to sing along!  Fluffy has adopted the Autism Awareness cause and thus has won even more of my admiration.  I don't say this lightly as I do not like the idea of being a fanatic of anything---but I am a huge fan of Mr. Fluffy.  The next time he's in New York State, I plan to be there, star-struck and idiotic with glee, because he's so darn funny!

Donald Duck Death Metal

I have been more or less off of the map for the last week or two, and for good reasons (family, holidays, etc.).  It was so nice to see everyone.  An Introvert's worst nightmare is to get rip-roaringly sick during a social visit, thus necessitating the indignities of navigating social encounters while doped up on cold and flu medications.  The first few days of the illness struck while I was at my mother's.  My mother was very understanding (as mothers tend to be, but mine is truly awesome at it), and brought me tea and blankets.  The first phase of the illness brought an incredibly swollen and painful throat, and an almost complete loss of my voice.

When we got home, my voice was toast and I sounded like Donald Duck Death Metal (yes, you're imagining that in a suitably horrid manner).  One would think that the excuse to stay home and "rest" would be welcome...but for the pain and the continued indignity. 

My voice returned on Wednesday, and I returned to work.  The indignities continued, but morphed from vocal tribulations to a very productive cough (I felt worst for my coworkers, listening to my continued gasps of "EW, gross!!!") and a nose set on running a personal marathon.

I've been heading home at the end of the day (both yesterday and today) feeling absolutely exhausted.   There isn't really a reason for the exhaustion other than my body's reaction to my attempts at a normal every-day existence while I shake off the last vestiges of grossness.

I am (once again) incredibly thankful for the understanding of friends and family.  I haven't been keen to use the telephone or get together for hang-outs aside from ones that have been in the works for weeks (a concert tomorrow and dinner beforehand have been in the works since mid-November).   Be well, readers!