The Beast Years

There is a serious misconception out there that the twenties are the "best years". I have been doing a lot of thinking about these years lately. Our son Chris recently moved to LA to attend the American Film Institute. He drove with his father in the Vibe across country so that he would have a car. There is no public transportation in LA. You have to drive. In fact, he says that anyone who does not have a car is shunned. The trip took a little more than 3 days. Yes, 3,900 miles in 3 days. It's not how I would have traveled. You can bet your job, your firstborn and your mortgage on that. There would have been many stops, perhaps a look at some of the sights you have to see before you die and certainly, we would have stopped in nice motels. I require a good mattress, clean shower (versus an unclean shower...use your imagination) and a decent cup of coffee just to even consider facing the rest of the day. But, they were efficient, if not comfortable and arrived with plenty of time for Craig to get an idea about life in LA. He reports that the rental house that Chris' friend Dan found was beautiful in its time. You know, like an older woman that people comment: oh, she must have been a beauty in her day. There will be plenty of room for the four housemates and that is largely because they have so little furniture. Craig was able to identify two beds and that was about it. They went shopping for some kitchen implements. He says that they will at least be able to make a pot of spaghetti. After awhile, it became overwhelming. You know, the traffic, the lack of furniture, the things that needed to be hooked up in the house and the sheer newness and unknowingness of everything. It's exciting and sickening at the same time to be so unsettled, so at the beginning. Two years ago, Erica moved to San Francisco. She sold most of her belongings in Boston and flew out to San Fran by herself. About a month after her move, I joined her to help her move to a more permanent apartment. We took a taxi across town and carried five boxes up the stairs. I was in awe of her courage.

We were there at one time too. I remember those years with great fondness but would not live them again.

Then there is the uncertainty of romantic relationships. The break-ups, the make-ups, the single without visitors and single with visitors. Really, our only criteria is that our children find someone who will make them happy and make them feel more like themselves. The looking is a grand adventure but being settled in a relationship of 30 years seems so much easier. Of course, there was a lot of work and a lot of making up during those 30 years. So we are watching our children struggle with so many decisions during their twenties. Work, where to live, relationships. The twenties are not the best years, they are the beast years. It's an amazing beast. Very mercurial, hungry and big. It is also a pleasure to watch our children make their decisions with so much grace and courage.

Thanksgiving 2004

The Summer of Broken Things

Here all the things that have broken this summer: the computer, the fridge, the hot tub, the vacumn cleaner, the red vase, my watch, the sewing machine, my brother Mark. Some of these things have been fixed, some are waiting to be fixed. My brother Mark died on July 4 of congestive heart failure. He was broken for many years. There were attempts to fix him, but you cannot ever "fix" anyone. I know better as a counselor. People have to see that something is broken and then they have to want to change it or heal it or deal with it in some way. You can want better or different for someone, but maybe they don't want something different. They want what they want. Truly, I am not sure what my brother wanted for himself. He lived with my mother for the last 6 years of his life. He was very physically ill, visiting the doctor on a regular basis. Taking his meds, not taking his meds. He continued to abuse tobacco and alcohol inspite of the advise from his doctors. It was painful to see him in person because he looked so sick. Pale, yellow, bloated stomach and a look of fear and deep sadness on his face. But it was his life and he lived it as he wished. When he died, it was a shock. It didn't matter that we, his siblings expected his early death. Talked about it: you know, when Mark dies.....Mark will surely die before Mom....what will happen to Mom when Mark dies.... Still, it was a shock and it made me feel bone tired. That is what serious sadness feels like, exhaustion permeates every cell of your body. I had a few dreams about Mark after he died. He was happy in my dreams. I am sure that his broken spirit has been healed. I realize that this summer of broken things is an important lesson. Things break, sometimes you can fix them. Sometimes they cannot be fixed. Sometimes, other things come into your life and take the place of the broken thing. I am waiting to find out what will fill in the empty place of my brother. It's happening right now. I am waiting.