Sandwiched

My mom turns 84 at the end of the year, and she is fiercely independent. She fell last month, her entire left arm in a cast, the same wrist she broke years ago in a bad fall while on vacation in Aruba. This time, she fell while out and about getting a haircut at her favorite salon on West Side Avenue (JC). Thankfully the folks who rent the second floor in her two-family home are like family. Grateful that my godsister lives across the street, and our Filipino neighbors are caring. I am not sure how much longer my mom can live alone. Reserved, she has her routine of her daily walks in the park and Filipino teleserias keep her company along with the feral cats whom she feeds outside her garage. But they bring unwanted guests - mice. 

And we have a fourteen-year-old daughter. Raising a teen in this era of constant anxiety, pressure, and screens has its own challenges. Not to mention my partner's own apprehension around his career, organizational board tensions and the impact of AI. Or the fact that his fully remote position keeps his already introverted self isolated. 

Yesterday was the 25th anniversary of 9.11. I completely lost it at a memorial service, holding it in all week as my circles and I checked in with each other, reflecting on our shared journeys of that dreadful day. I remember my morning ritual of making sure that I read each New York Times obituary of every person who perished. Oh that mourning ritual seemed to last forever. 

--
this saturday morning
alone in the kitchen
in the lull and hum of the fridge
and the september breeze
cicadas rattle 
i will quaff my sorrow
and sip my iced cold brew
sprinkled with cinnamon and cayenne
like life phases and their layered complexities
i sit and know
these feelings will pass
breathe in calm
breathe out worry
breathe in peace

Fading summer

Our family is coming off the joyful stress of planning a family reunion, A.'s side, where each family takes their turn. This year was ours. We'd been planning since October. Given five elders' deaths in less than two years, it was an opportunity to celebrate connection in the moment. 

When we returned to northern Virginia, I noticed that one plant by our front door in particular
had grown so much in nine days -- creeping along the concrete step. And the native tree we planted in memory of our loved ones has started to flower. 

And today, our teen daughter turns fourteen years young. We are deep in the throes of teendom. August just began, and yet it feels like it's wrapping up at the same time. 

-----
how do we say no to the rush,
no to the push to put on our best face,
no to the chase of the material rat race

how do we say yes to penning that poesy
that stirs in our hearts, 
yes to crooning the melody that allows us 
to yearn and breathe in the moment

sometimes the summer storm
takes over our minds
but what if, just what if, 
we take the time to taste the flavor
of the fading summer
the peanutbutter frozen custard
on the boardwalk, 
how the Jersey Shore's waves
crash against our bodies,
how we have delighted in an eight-hour day 
together on the sand
how in being intentional with our time
we have reconnected in love
grateful to be family

Summer Mother Sun

We visited a short while for Father's Day weekend last month, had the chance to bring our moms together and celebrate our 21st wedding anniversary, 23 years together. No more Chart House, we delighted in a lovely lunch at Liberty House. Our moms are in their eighties, and with every visit, they move a little more slowly than last. Truly a gift to spend time with our moms and have them connect with each other too.

the sun radiates
she shines and embraces
everyone and everywhere

she does not distinguish
between white and brown
she provides light to all

she is hope that believes 
in joyful connection
families along the shore
children splash and thrash in the pool

the sun kisses every forehead,
every cheek,
every shoulder

every day, the sun wakes
and shares her beams
gives source 
to every living and just being