Praise then darkness, and creation unfinished

Lunch today was corn on the cob from the Greenmarket, with a couple of yellow plums for dessert. There are things I really like about summer, and the fresh food is one of them. (Temperatures warm enough not to need clothes are nice; it being too hot for clothes to be comfortable is a nuisance.)

Then I went downtown and spent the afternoon with my mother, in the hotel she's staying at. She has a suite, with a little kitchen, so we were able to make tea and, later, raisin toast. There are also actual couches to sit on; quite pleasant. We talked about all sorts of things for a few hours, and then I went to the gym branch near my office for a quick workout. A reasonable Sunday after a very quiet Saturday.

( gym numbers )

adrian_turtle came down to New York for a seder at my aunt Lea's. (Lea specifically invited her as well as me and cattitude, who was too swamped by work to come with us.) Again, not only do my family like Adrian, they seemed glad that I bring someone who can sing. My cousin Janet was talking about my grandmother on the other side of the family's singing, and I said something about that being the job of my side of the family (broadly defined).

Janet (our leader) said she didn't think we needed to adjust the language much for feminist purposes, in part because this was very much a women-run seder. (We started with one man present, and Dave never says much.) So we used the traditional Maxwell House haggadah; Lea noted that this is the one the president uses.

I heard a bit more about Frieda's history, and good things Grandpa did. (Frieda isn't blood kin as far as I know, but my mother and aunts refer to her as their "fourth sister.")

There were some new-to-me people at the seder, neighbors my aunt knows from her Shakespeare class. So she gave them the apartment tour, and when we sat down noted that almost everything in the room was from other members of the family, including my grandparents' expanding table and some of their dishes. (My aunt has bought furniture, it's just mostly in other parts of her home.)

Partway through the seder Janet's boyfriend John arrived. As in past years, he was loud and seemed to feel the need to be at the center of attention. This involved, among other things, asking questions some of which I realized afterward he had to know the answers to. Maybe he didn't know that humans are the only animals with a menstrual cycle, but I refuse to believe that a recently retired science teacher doesn't know what the male and female parts of a flower are. That's fourth grade material. But because it's fourth grade material, and I had it on my desk an hour earlier, I just answered without stopping to analyze.

A little later, the topic of eggs, egg-laying, and male animals that carry or protect eggs (I think) led to my aunt saying that egg-laying animals are defined as female. John's reply was "Well, what about transvestites or transsexuals or whatever they are? They don't lay eggs—are they female?" Adrian answered that a person's gender is whatever the person says it is. John challenged that idea (which I know is not universally accepted), and then asked something clueless about (IIRC) the difference between "transgender" and "transsexual." My first response was "Do you have a few hours?" Then I and Adrian settled in to do a bit of Trans 101. That's not what I'd expected that afternoon, but it may have done some good—probably not with him, but with some of the other people there, who seemed uninformed but not hostile. For example, one of them said she thought transgendered people were "confused," and I just said that my trans friends didn't seem confused, though other people sometimes are. Adrian suggested on our way home that he had probably been leading into some kind of ignorant "joke," but that he hadn't been counting on throwing those questions to a room where the answers included "Well, my doctor is trans, and…," me talking about trans friends, and my aunt being calm and thorough on biological questions.

I think we did a decent job with that bit of education, and I'm fairly sure it was better than if we'd left the topic lying there after John tried to heap scorn on the idea that a person can say "I'm a woman" and have that be meaningful. If I'm less practiced at Trans 101 than some people, I'm also less worn out by having to do it, both for the same reason: I'm cisgendered, and most people read me as female, so I don't have a lot of these conversations. And I was talking in third person, which in some ways is safer.

I also had a nice catching-up talk with my cousin Karina before the meal, as well as chatting with Janet; the one thing I regret is that I barely got to say more than hello to my cousin Anne. Had the conversation not veered the ways it did, I might have asked Janet how her father is doing; I tentatively attribute his absence to introversion and/or not liking crowds of his wife's relatives, even if he's known them for half a century.

Because food also matters: I ate lots of charoses, in part because it seemed most other people had forgotten that there was any left, and of a good cucumber salad. My only contribution was some Ceylon teabags; I wanted something good that wouldn't need milk, so threw a half dozen in my bag. One of Lea's friends made a very nice ground walnut and lemon cake. And my aunt Lea made a point of giving me one of the few remaining glass teacups and saucers (again, stuff from Grandma and Grandpa) to drink from.

(Edited to change title: I'd thought I was writing an outline, and it turned into a real post.)

I've had a mostly cozy few days with cattitude and adrian_turtle: Turkey, cranberry-orange relish, the green beans Adrian always wants, Cattitude's excellent glazed onions (which we really ought to try more than once a year), and a few other things, including a rice and tangerine salad that appealed in the cookbook, then seemed rather odd at first bite, which I wound up having thirds of. And then repeating that reaction, both halves, with some of the leftovers last night.

We went to the Cambridge Museum of Science on Friday, which was fun, including an impressively large kinetic and sound sculpture on the first floor, and a number of things that got strong "I've seen this" reactions from me and/or Cattitude. The dioramas of local flora and fauna aren't just in the same general style as the New York ones at the American Museum of Natural History, they're labeled in the same fonts. There's a math exhibit that's good but I thought "needs updating" (specifically reacting to a label that describes fractals as a new branch of mathematics), and Cattitude told me that he had seen this exhibit, quite a few years ago, at IBM Watson (where his father used to work). We'd have liked more dinosaurs, of course. And some more proofreading: they misspelled "theropod" and "vertebrate" in different exhibits. This was just a low-level annoyance: writing "therapod" and "vertabrate" doesn't confuse people about meaning. But I can't help noticing these things.

Other than that, we dealt with some errands, and Cattitude assembled a new desk chair for Adrian, and we had sushi and talked and drank tea and played Scrabble. Cattitude went home yesterday afternoon, giving me and Adrian some time to ourselves; I'll be heading back to New York today.

Our toilet has been malfunctioning for a couple of days: it rarely flushes properly when we use the handle (maybe 1 time in 10), and is running constantly. (This at least means that we aren't dealing with unpleasant or unsanitary overflows.) We left a note for the super yesterday; he called me about 9:30 this morning. Since I was already at work, I arranged for him to come tomorrow at 9 a.m. I then walked over to my boss, explained the situation, and before I could ask she told me to work at home tomorrow because my "productivity would be higher," presumably compared to, say, showing up at 11 if the plumbing didn't take long. So, I have both emailed myself the files and brought them home on a thumb drive (along with a few relevant photocopies).

When I got my most recent credit card bill, it showed that Delta had refunded the change fee they should never have charged us. Since Mom paid for my tickets, including that added charge, I emailed her to say we had a refund. She asked me to put it in her New York checking account. So I wrote a check for $250 to my mother, turned it over, wrote "For Deposit Only" on the back (that always reminds me of my grandfather, who wrote that on every birthday check he mailed any of us), signed my name, put the account number on it, and filled out a deposit slip. This is a joint account (though I almost never use it; she set it up that way so I could do banking stuff for her), so this isn't actually unreasonable, but it feels a little odd to write a check to someone else, then turn it over and endorse it myself. Even though I suspect I could have signed it "John Wilkes Booth" and nobody would have noticed.

After work, I went to the gym: a shorter workout than often, but varied.

( cut to avoid boredom )

Also, I got email this evening saying I won the auction for those hand-knit socks.

This is probably the first of several posts about Simon's death, and being there with Mom, and my reactions then and after. (Mom, you don't have to read these; if I write anything I think you'd rather not read, I'll flag it/use a cut tag.)

It took me a few days after my return to realize that I wasn't jet lagged anymore, and it wasn't just tiredness from missing sleep while traveling: grief is draining. I'm feeling a bit slow, mentally. I'm still doing good work, I think, but it's taking me longer than usual. Fortunately, my boss Wendy is understanding of what I've been through, and how it's affecting me. (My direct boss, Marilyn, is out sick right now, so a less sympathetic person than Wendy might be leaning on me: of a team of three, two of us were out all of last week, and Marilyn is still out and we're not sure when she'll be back.)

When I realized some of what was going on, I emailed my beloveds, partly so they'd know and partly because writing things down helps me remember them. I got a thoughtful and sympathetic reply from adrian_turtle, who pointed out that being present at a death is hard. I don't know if that's always true, but it seems to be here. In some ways, it's not something we're prepared for, culturally. On some levels, yes. I knew enough that when Mom asked me if I was sure that Simon had stopped breathing, I first thought of the old idea of seeing if the person was fogging a mirror, and then realized that I could check for a pulse at wrist and neck. And in the minute, where patience and compassion were needed, I had what I needed: from my family, and choices since. (Adrian and I were discussing this in another context, the last time I was in Massachusetts, and she suggested that compassion may be partly inborn, and partly upbringing, but we keep making choices, and mine tend to be in that direction. Not all of them, but enough.)

On my way to buy lunch today, I noticed myself blinking away tears, and thought "It's okay to cry." I haven't cried, much, over this: a little bit last week, while rysmiel was visiting: no specific trigger, just a minute of "hold on a moment, I need to be hugged" and then the tears ebbed and we went on with what we'd been doing.

cattitude has been holding me, and encouraging me to cut myself slack, and I'm basically figuring that I will go to work (and concern myself more with doing the work well enough than with how fast it gets done), go to the gym, and otherwise take it easy: read some, play scrabble if we're up for it, play with the cat, be glad it's finally spring.

On the practical side, I called Delta Airlines today, with the ticket number (I called yesterday and was told I needed that), and got a helpful person who looked at the records she could see, called in her supervisor (who can see older information), and told me what I would need to do to get a refund. This is a relief after the dismissive people I'd gotten on the phone when I called to change the return flight while I was in London.

After too much time on the phone this afternoon (involving at least one clueless Delta employee who dropped me into hold music and lost me; I think a mistake on my part, or at least some confusion, when I called back; and a mistake by a different Delta employee, which I caught because I was feeling cautious by then), I have tickets.

I am flying out of JFK to Heathrow tomorrow early evening, which gets me to Heathrow at 8 a.m. Sunday. Returning to New York Wednesday afternoon (arriving Wednesday night). In theory, I can change the return flight without charge, since it's a bereavement fare; in practice, I have rysmiel arriving Thursday evening, for a relatively brief visit. I was and am looking forward to it immensely; in the circumstances, I also expect both Rysmiel and cattitude to be soothing after my going to comfort my mother.

I also expect to be jet-lagged for ten days or so: I will be in London just long enough to almost adjust to the time there, then fly home.

From what Mom said on the phone this morning, the funeral is likely to be Monday, but I don't know that for certain, nor have details.

Friday morning, in Arlington. I have tea, cattitude has coffee, and adrian_turtle is still asleep. When I'm done posting this, I will go into the kitchen and have leftover turkey and orange-cranberry relish for breakfast.

The trip up on Wednesday was pleasant; we spent the train ride chatting with the people we happened to be sitting across from, who were friendly and interesting, not at all the worry or stereotype of the person who strikes up a conversation on the train.

Cooking Thursday went well: the three of us work well together in the kitchen (and in cozy reading-aloud in the living room, and so on). Cattitude is really happy with how the glazed onions came out; the turkey was fine (although I damaged a thumbnail in dismantling the carcass so it could go in the freezer for later soup-making); the stuffing didn't work quite as well as usual, and next time I may cook the rice for it in broth instead of water; and I remembered the relish before we started eating, thus breaking a string before it became seriously traditional. I'm still prone to fretting about timing and such, which happened both on the trip up and as we finished the cooking yesterday, but nothing actually went wrong.

Have had pleasant email with rysmiel and brief useful email with roadnotes and pnh. It's rainy out, and we may go to a small museum this afternoon.

roadnotes and I got together last night for dinner and conversation. Much catching up (it really had been too long since we'd seen each other), and the evening ended with her saying she'd email me in a day or two. She didn't want to be out late, and I'm still tired enough from last weekend that I might have been willing, but am glad I didn't.

Good fish for dinner tonight: cattitude came home with some nice Dutch-style herring from Russ and Daughters, and we had herring sandwiches, on good Jewish rye bread. This was all prompted by his disappointment with a sandwich he had earlier in the week. Furthermore, there are two more herrings, and half a smoked whitefish, waiting for future meals.

For a little while this afternoon, I thought Cattitude and I might be having an unexpected adrian_turtle overnight: her airline had gotten her as far as Philly and then started cancelling flights to Detroit. But when I did the research on times and train fares, it didn't seem like a great idea, once I realized that she was thinking in terms of staying over here, and then going back to PHL to try to get a flight tomorrow morning (we're closer to Philly than to Boston, but it would still have been 2+ hours each way, with luggage), not in terms of giving up on her trip, and breaking a return to Boston here in New York City. This all involved several phone calls, in part because I had easy internet access and could look up things like the Orbitz customer service phone number, and whether the flight she'd been told to stand by for was cancelled (yes). The last I heard, she was in Charlotte, and optimistic about reaching her destination tonight.

I went to the gym after work, despite being tired, and had a good workout, but somehow my knee started hurting about a minute after I finished my end-of-workout stretches. ( gym numbers )

This weekend is the fortieth anniversary of the Stonewall Riots.

A lot has changed since then. Not everything, not enough, but a lot: people who would once have been wondering "is it safe to be seen in public with my partner" are fighting to have their marriages recognized.

I'm not, physically, up to being downtown at the NY Gay Pride March celebrating today, but it's important that it's there. It matters that it's part of the fabric of the city and the year: the cycle of parades, the MTA noting which buses will be rerouted (most parades go right down Fifth, and this one turns west to go down Christopher Street), the local newspaper Web page with photos of previous years and lists of events as the front page for New York City yesterday. That, and the sponsorships and banners hanging from the lamp posts on Fifth Avenue, are a different message from how it felt when I first marched in the 1980s, and we had to deal with counter-protestors shouting insults near St. Patrick's Cathedral. I can miss the extent to which it felt political, but I don't miss having people trying to get in our face to tell us we were evil.

I'm not much connected to specifically LGBT social groups, because I haven't felt much need, and haven't always been sure I would fit there. A piece of that is that cattitude is male, and was my only partner for a long time. But another piece is that I've got a social group, defined on other axes and interests, that is basically queer-friendly, people who don't react differently to "this is my partner" when I'm introducing adrian_turtle than when I'm introducing Cattitude. And that's not my cleverness, that's time and change in large parts of US and other western society.

When I mentioned a girlfriend to my parents at 17, they sent me to a psychologist. So I didn't introduce them to more girlfriends for a long time. But when I told my mother about Adrian, she said "I want to meet her," and did, and they like each other. That's not just that my mother is a cool person; it's a quarter century of progress and people pushing and being visible in a lot of ways and places.

I was exhausted last night, and am still tired today despite having done little. Happy, though. ( seder, and Alan, cut for length )