Vancouver, eh!

So we've returned from almost a week in Vancouver, where we attended my cousin R. & B.'s wedding.  A predominantly Scottish celebration with no Filipino flavor at all other than the lechon served during dinner. The ceremony took place at the pavilion in Queen Elizabeth Park in downtown Vancouver, and the reception was at a golf club in far and away (I know, that was a film set in Ireland) Langley.  A cosmo, multiple glasses of champagne, and vodka cranberry cocktails all night long made for a most festive evening after a hectic day as a (last minute request, grunt) member of the bridal party.  I was happy to support my cousin J., R.'s sister, who was the matron of honor and had been 
stressed the past couple of months in last minute wedding planning. And it was lovely to reconnect with our Cadelina family members.   

From my Filipino/Chinese/American nephews, J. & C., in their kilts to the butterflies released at the end of the ceremony, A. & I were thankful to relax the rest of the week as we trekked along the seawall in Stanley Park and 
strolled along the English Bay.  A., Mom, & I definitely made the most of the city, visiting pretty much every nook & cranny by foot, bus, train and ferry.  We stayed in downtown Vancouver and ventured to the north, south, east, and west, including Gastown and Yaletown.  The best part was the fresh!fresh!fresh! seafood!  I tasted my share of oysters and loved them all . . . as well as kicking off my birthday month with cousin J. who shares my same birth date.  Happy birthday, J.

Our visit reaffirmed our desire to move to the west coast in the distant future.  Vancouver reminded us so much of Seattle.  The super clean air & streets as well as the laid back atmosphere lure us to a life that is manageable and enjoyable, especially with a child.  More than once, I had to pause and wonder -- Was it because we were on vacation?  Not at all. Folks work, but their lives aren't consumed by only work or rushing around to the next scheduled event.  Weekends are actually for relaxing, not bringing home more work.  In Jersey, A. & I struggle with our getting caught up in the rat race and pace of life, and we've no desire to raise a child in that atmosphere.  Sadly the East Coast, NJ/NY metro area, promotes that.  

What if . . . ?
We were serious about moving to Seattle some years ago and had even started connecting with a realtor to look at homes while I connected with others to scope out job opportunities.  A. wasn't ready then what with wanting to be involved in our nieces' and nephews' lives.  As they get older, they're moving on . . . and we just can't imagine continuing with our fast paced lives in Jersey. There's something about living outside of the NJ/NY metropolis.  A much more mellow way of being?  People are genuinely more pleasant, not pretentious.  As for diversity, it's not a big deal out there . . . extremely diverse but not enclave-ish.  More pluralistic.  So hopefully once our adoption has been finalized, we'll be able to seriously think about a move to Seattle, which is some years down the road yet . . . 

I had a chance to catch up via phone date/same coastal time with my dearest friend, A. (born and raised in JC), who moved to Seattle a decade ago and doesn't regret her decision at all.  We chatted a bit about how A. & I are pretty convinced that Seattle is in our future.  Everyone we know who has transplanted from NJ/NY/Philly area to Seattle (or the West Coast for that matter) has never returned . . . perhaps they ain't missing much?  Sure we'll miss family & friends.  But it's just a five-hour flight from coast to coast.  Life's too short to settle and wonder, What if . . . , eh?   

Snafu

So I've been livid the past few days as we recently received a notice from our adoption agency that ICAB is requesting an additional employer referral for me.  An existing gap between my two most recent positions, I have to request a referral from NYU since they knew me beyond the past five-years.  Needless to say, A. & I were frustrated with PSB as they'd approved our dossier end of February and sent it to ICAB then.  The required employer referral that must account for beyond five years was an oversight.  PSB's mistake.  And ICAB should have asked for the extra referral in March when they also asked for additional information regarding A.'s health.  When I spoke with PSB, I tried to contain my anger, my blood boiling.  I knew expressing my madness was not the lasting impression I wanted to leave as an adoptive parent.  I just gotta do what I gotta do . . . get another employer referral.  So I contacted my old NYU colleague/friend, LCS, who agreed to write the letter.  An adoptive mom herself of two lovely girls, she sadly said this happens all the time with agencies.

Snafu.  (God bless everyone.)  Chaotically muddled situation.  We have been patiently waiting for formal approval of our dossier as PSB's timelines have indicated that approval occurs sometime between 3-5 months once it has been sent to ICAB.  We'd been hoping for an update by the end of June and were disappointed when we hadn't heard anything.  PSB has informed us that ICAB has been extremely slow with dossier approvals (no explanation provided by ICAB), and we are not the only family overdue for dossier approval.  

And so we wait.  Sna-FU!   

Mothers' wisdom & support
Thank you to A., an adoptive mom too, who encouraged me by writing --  "This is one of your labor pains if someone ever says you didn't have to experience any pain getting your child."  


And to my cousin, K., who introduced me to St. Clotilde, the patron saint of adopted children and parenthood.  


Love to the nurturing & compassionate women in my life.

How to stay close & stay sane

Mother and daughter relationships can be fun and close as well as insane and exasperating depending on what stage in life Mom or daughter may be in.  Since Dad has passed, I find that I'm playing more of the parent role with Mom, and it can be exhausting.  A most challenging role, my soon-to-be 38-year-old-wisdom is no disciplinarian to my Mom's 67-year-old independent adulthood.  I'm uneasy if I don't speak with my Mom at least every other day, and as A. has pointed out, I badger her with questions about her health . . . Is she eating right?  Has she gone to the doctor for her gout flare up?  Is she cutting down on her salt and sugar intake? . . . instead of relaxing and appreciating my time with her. Concerns about my Mom are my constant worry.


It's rare that Mom I share memories of Dad.  Every once in a while, if the spirit moves us, we do.  But usually it's one-sided.  She'll mention how she & Dad had their early dates at Canton, Jersey City's then "it" Chinese restaurant lounge, sharing their Brandy Alexander cocktails as I dutifully listen, unable to return a share-a-memory moment because sometimes I just can't deal.  Then the following week at our usual Wednesday night dinners, I might mention how Dad loved to eat  snails from Kellog, our go-to Chinese restaurant on Route 440. Though come to think of it, my actually sharing memories of Dad with my Mom is pretty rare.


Almost two years since Dad's death, I grapple and wonder who my Mom is outside of being my Dad's wife and my mother or the nurse that she was for over 40 years.  After all, she is her own independent adult woman.  And she's perhaps had to struggle a bit to redefine herself in her new world.  From what I can see, Mom's journey to her Self has been an enigmatic one.  I know I can't possibly know everything as she experiences her own personal trials, some of which I just may not be privy to.  I am her daughter, and I worry.  


Help us, Great Spirit, to support my Mom and stay close to her.  Help us to stay sane in the process.  Give us the courage to be present to talk & listen. And thank you, Great Spirit, for Mom's generous love that teaches us to go on no matter what.