Blunt Truth and Comfort Food in Uncomfortable Moments

Yesterday was Matthew’s 7th birthday, and I was able to go to Penn Yan and see him at my Dad’s house. It was fun—reminded me of the old days when I had a family and we did stuff like have birthday dinners (birthday boy picked pizza—I swear he could be mine, my sister always chose tacos). I’m a little bitter (not at anyone, just in general–and in a good natured sort of way)—let’s be honest, Parents, there are some inconveniences for me due to you not being together anymore. That doesn’t mean that I think you should be or that I’m not happy for you to be happy—so no reading into that or feeling badly about it (related: my mom recently told me that I shouldn’t take it the wrong way, but she really liked it when I had a lot of money—I get it and I took it the right way, and I think honesty is why we keep our healthy relationship healthy).

Because yesterday was Matthew’s birthday, today is Jen’s death-day.  I’ve tried—not thinking about what was happening 7 years ago right now.  But right now, 7 years ago, we had already made it to the NICU at Strong to see Matthew. I had already seen how perfect he was (in spite of the things stuck on his head and the oxygen hood). He was a little monster-baby in the NICU—at over 9lbs, he could totally have beaten up all those tiny babies in there. Of course, he was drugged into relaxation and had lost his voice. Jen was gone—I didn’t know where she really was.

Today, it helped that class this morning went well (Child Health Issues) in spite of another technology glitch–luckily I knew the content and winged it again. Sometimes I think that goes over better than Power Point anyway. Currently, it’s heading toward 2pm, which means I have another class to teach (Death and Dying). Seriously, I’m not sure about teaching this class on this day. Can I cancel it? No.  I don’t believe in canceling classes (except that one time I canceled class at Keuka because I had to defend my dissertation that evening–I justified it). I could practice some Mind Body Techniques (maybe) and clean the apartment (nah).

It’s rainy and cold. I’m feeling rainy and cold. I appreciate (so much) the nice things my friends have said and sent to me today and yesterday. I also know I have people who can be “my family” now—lots of them, more than before. I love that about my life, and I also miss my own family immensely.  I made a donation this morning to help send a family who is facing cancer to Disney World (in secret honor of my sister–not so secret now that I told you, but you don’t know the family and they don’t know I donated or that it was in honor of Jen). Yesterday, Seema asked me if I do anything to commemorate my sister’s death day. I said no (and feel kind of lacking in that reply, knowing my mom has her rituals and is probably sitting in the rain at Jen’s grave right now)—but I think I found a way to commemorate.

My plan for now? Eat something that makes me feel good (which might have been mac and cheese if I had any), and drink coffee (which I only do on special occasions nowadays—but one of my fondest memories is of Thanksgiving weekend in 2002, drinking coffee and chatting with my sister in her living room).

The other day in class, we talked about how adults cope with death of their children. It seems sort of ridiculous to learn that from a textbook and a video clip from Oprah (search youtube for the Coble family—you’ll cry and be inspired). Death is actually a really intimate topic (maybe I should have started this post with, “Dear Diary”), and sometimes I feel strange about the dynamic of students in my class when I’m sharing little pieces of my own experience. But I suppose if they don’t learn anything or are offended or bored by me, then it won’t be any worse than other boring college courses that they can forget about after they pass (or fail).

I’ve had people this week say things to me about how not to be sad right now. I’m not going to defend myself about it being ok to be sad—if you’re my friend you know that I can usually talk about Jen without tears or sadness—but I think I just want to be sad right now and figure out wtf I am going to say at 2pm. It’s possible to be happy and sad at the same time–just so you know!

And on Sunday, I’ll be trick-or-treating with some of my favorite family members, Steve, Matthew, Carol, Allison. Oh! I also have a great recipe to share for homemade peanut butter cups (peanut-free!).