Category: Educating Julia

enemy from within

Julia jacket this year.

The “enemy from within.” That’s what he has called us and I rather like that title today. And I am telling my disappointed daughter that she needs to be part of the change, part of the fight for what we as a family, as well as a community, want to see in our country.

We support and defend the rights of women and workers and immigrants and transgender people and unhomed people and people with disabilities and our elders. We believe in diversity, equity and inclusion. We believe in climate change and that our world and its environment needs protection.

Julia’s jacket in 2016

We stand for healthcare for all, for public schools, for an end to book banning, for the separation of church and state, for the rights of students and teachers to demonstrate against any and all wars, for strict gun control, for taxing the rich their fair share, for subsidized housing, social security, medicare. We fight against racism and sexism and homophobia and christian nationalism and facism.

In my gut I feel that the party of our choice did not strongly stand for what we believe in nor did it fight against what is abhorant to us. That needs to change. We all need to attend to the change to be worthy of the title “enemy from within.”

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back to a drawing board

Disappointing email on Friday morning came in as Julia and I arrived at an anime convention in Westford.  

Nice thing about Another Anime Convention, yes, that is its name, is that there is a special ticket rate for those, parent or caregiver, who are there only for a kid. “Parent in Tow” is on my badge and I didn’t even have to explain why I wanted the rate accompanying an adult. The badge had some limitations but it was plenty for us.  I went to the “game shows” and the panels, including one very interesting one about women writers and performers in ancient Japan. Julia most enjoyed the hand sewing workshop that was pretty useful and very well done. The “Parent in tow” badge was about a third of the cost of Julia’s day badge. Convention tickets are expensive and I appreciate the break. So good on them!

Back to the email.  It was from The Price Center. The day center that I toured in August and was so excited to hear that there were openings in the program that I was most interested in for Julia. Back in August, it took more than a week to get Julia’s DDS referral packet to them. I don’t know whether that delay was the cause of the disappointing email. Really, may have or maybe not, but if it was, it is pretty rediculous to think Julia lost out because her referral packet was delayed by days.

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ducks

There is the possibility of a longer description of our month coming soon, but this . . .  I’ve been saying for awhile now, weeks or month, I think, that Julia is in a good place these day.  Still unsatisfied with Bay Cove, but more willing to look beyond her current feelings, more accepting of small transitions, more able to regulate over small mishaps and much more comfortable in herself and her surroundings.  Not all the time, mind you, but more regularly.  And this, even though, we have/are weekend traveling 4 out of 5 weekends last and this month.

This weekend was our weekend home.  We vegged out a bit, watched British Bake Off, etc.,  We made a list of what Julia would not do and what she would/could do. Julia usually hates lists. On that list was using clay, something she has always been creative with but hasn’t touched in more than a year.  It has been almost two years since Julia stopped making art every day. For a while she was willing to do something once a week with her art mentor, but when her mentor became ill, Julia was not even willing to do that. Julia was a child who made some art every day. If anything, keeping her from sketching in text books, on binders, on homework, on programs, on any piece of paper was next to impossible. She she played with clayed, figured out sewing a stuffed cat character; Julia could do any art she put her mind to.

And I have stormed the heavens these last two years that her impulse to create would return, afraid that it would not. And carrying the very sad idea that I contributed to the dying of that impulse.

So, yesterday, after church, she went with someone who is spending some time with her, to Michael’s and they bought some sculpty.

And she made this:

And I was close to crying.  I am trying not to cheer or optimistically predict a return to art making.  No, not yet.  I’ll just take pictures and share.

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beginnings again

It is a beginning of September and my traditional time to return to what fuels my creativity and thus, my soul.  Cool weather, the first sight of the un-greening of leaves, and children back to school.  And a morning ritual that I have abandoned during a summer because who in their right mind can be disciplined during the hot, sun drenched days with a demanding offspring. But right now, the house is quiet, I am sitting at my desk and the only thing to do is to look for and return to how work happens. It is a return and it is always new.

I seem to have many loose threads that go together fine in my living them but don’t make for a cohesive blog post.  And I haven’t spent enough time writing this summer to keep them all going.

Baby Alfie is two weeks old. He has presented himself as a child who needs to be held to sleep which is tough on his parents during the night, but as the visiting grandma of the day to sit and hold a little baby who is happily sleeping in my arms is such delight.  He who I did not expect continues to surprise me. There is no doubt that I have loved my children and Wilbur, but I have never been drawn to infants.  This one has opened a new place for me.

And it is worth noting.

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more catch up

I have catching up to do and no way to gracefully ease into it.

First, the cat. Muta is still with us; however, it is hard to really know how he is doing. I was waiting for some definitive answer. Some diagnosis and prognosis, but I don’t think I am going to get either.  

For about a week after our weekend in the hospital, he was about 80% his old self.  He wasn’t that keen on going outside but he jumped on the couch and my bed and sprawled out when he napped during the day.  He was on an appetite enhancer.  He ate the canned food that I had.  I gave it to him in small amounts—about a quarter of a large can at a time. He willingly ate it.  I think it was not enough to really satisfy him but he stopped throwing up. I imagined he was getting use to being fed 4 times a day; however, over the last weekend he began to throw up again. At least, once a day. On Monday, I went to a vet. She did a follow up blood test to see where his liver and pancreas related numbers were. I haven’t heard from her yet. She also did a bit of hydration for him and gave him a shot of a nausea suppressant.  She said to continue with the steroid until she got the blood work back. 

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return

Happy Summer! (lots of this was written over the past 10 days)

Today’s longest day antics: A screening of flying lessons, the film by Sarah Waldron that Julia is in, late lunch with a friend, and horror movies tonight.

Yesterday, June 20, was our really longest day—up at 5 am to begin our ride to Jersey City for the Golden Door Film Festival, a stop at The Cloisters when we realized we were way too early to check into our hotel.  Loved The Cloisters. Hadn’t been there since before Cheshire was born. Finished the ride, found our hotel and some parking —Jersey City has not changed as much as I had imagined in the century since I was there —took naps, went to the opening night party for the festival, saw a bunch of very short and short films and fell into bed somewhere just before midnight.

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more letting go

I could ask how many times? How much more? Again?  Really?

A plastic box, book size, has been sitting on the kitchen floor for a few months.  I could use the excuse of a hard winter of feeling sick as an excuse for just leaving it there but it would be just that — an excuse. It was one of those boxes filled with what needed to be moved 18 months ago, what had some sentimental value, what did not find a home in the new house and what did not really warrant storing for another day. But to give it all away or to throw it all away felt sinful.

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back on the horse & adulting

After what feels likes way too long being homebound and cut off from social activities, I’m venturing to HILR today and my last two classes of the semester.  I would not even do this but I enjoyed the classes so much, the first three anyway, and want to catch up and also say good-bye for the summer.  I also have a rehearsal for a very short play that will be/should be part of next week’s Black Box presentation.  Yes, we are a bunch of old people doing plays for one another.  I’ve miss a solid two weeks of rehearsals and missing today would have consequences.  I know lines and been rehearsing with one other actor on zoom; however, the business of scenes is still lacking.  

And I am not completely better.  I am tired and rather weak. Especially my voice.

But willing to try.

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the colander eclipse

We didn’t travel to the path of totality although such an ominous name appears to make travel obligatory. We didn’t see the umbra. What a cool word.  Feels good in the mouth speaking it. We didn’t see Venus or stars as one friend opined last week.

Muta, the cat, didn’t seem to notice at all.

About an hour before the light was altered by the moon on the east coast, I looked at the directions to make a pinhole camera. As friends from the west coast and midwest were posting pictures on Facebook, I saw a picture of the eclipse through someone’s colander. 

I grabbed our colander, my pin hole camera and some canvases and set up our viewing post in the backyard. Neighbors were going into the street to watch with their eclipse glasses. 

When Julia got out of The Ride van, I rushed her into the backyard. The sky was already darkening and shadows all over were deepening. The view in the colander was cooler than in the pinhole camera.

We attempted a selfie with the sun in the background.

Julia noticed that the whole eclipse took too long.  But we also noticed that the shadows were unusually deep and their darkness was rich. The yellow of our daffodils was like dark-yolked eggs and the light had a feeling of somewhere else, somewhere where filmmakers choose to make period movies. 

I admit to being unexcited by the celestial phenomena and never considered traveling anywhere to see it better than I could from my backyard, but its magic and light worked itself on me as we stood in the backyard looking through our colander. In another world, at another time, this would be holy.

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a long meeting towards independence

Our day so far.  Julia uses The Ride, the para-transit service that provides door-to-door, shared-ride public transportation to people with disabilities. Julia uses The Ride to get to and from her day program and she likes it. This year Julia’s eligibility was set to end at the end of March. I noticed this fact about 6 weeks ago and called an MTA help line to find out what to do. I was advised to call one number and that speaker advised me to call another.  After a few phone calls, I connected with the Mobility Center, made an appointment for today, filled out the nine page form (large print so probably about 6 pages worth of information) and showed up the Mobility Center just before 8:30 for our appointment.  I planned for an early meeting so that Julia could get to her Library volunteer hours which begins at 10.  (Note: I didn’t receive any notice of the end of Julia’s eligibility. No call or text or email. If I was not as compulsive as I tend to be with Julia’s affairs, I would have missed it and she would have been without The Ride until we could get an appointment. And Julia would have never remembered or noticed on her own. I am grateful for the service but wonder about the lack of a reminder.  I could have used it. Julia would need it. I put a calendar date for myself three years from now, and I’ll put it in Julia’s calendar tonight. The need for such vigilance makes my blood run cold. Not for The Ride but for all the other things that she may miss in her future.)

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