Sunday, September 11, 2011

Somber Sunday, Pancakes Anyone?

Yes, it's the anniversary. I remember what I was doing: walking two miles to work, thinking what a beautiful day, maybe I would go back to teaching, was making copies at the copy machine when the receptionist told me what happened. I pulled out a box of Godiva and offered it around the office as we watched TV, then I walked home with a colleague and said, "This is our JFK." Sat home for a week, watching TV and crying a little, grateful to be mourning alone, grateful to have life, health, family. Grateful to talk with Dishmama and Dishbrother, pissed that Dishfather didn't call to see if I was alive, but when we did talk he mentioned it would be less tragic if I had died rather than someone with more at stake, like a child or someone with family--true to some degree but how sh*tty to say to one's child. That day did make some things very clear--Yes, I knew who loved me and who didn't care at all. But most of all, it no longer mattered to me that I wasn't married with children like many of my friends. I had myself and that was all I needed. I didn't lose anyone, I did see the devastation from my office window, and it makes me cry to see TV coverage, but I don't have a big story about what I experienced. Today, I'm staying as quiet as I can, not updating FB with my thoughts and prayers, not watching TV, and not wanting to delve into this except to remember how much I do love myself (it sounds bad, but you know what I mean) and will do all I can to make my life as good as possible. Maybe it's time for a Julia/QAF/Sex and the City marathon.

I've been reading and highly recommend Noelle Hancock's My Year with Eleanor, a memoir about facing fear and the wisdom of Eleanor Roosevelt. Also, The Psychopath Test, by Jon Ronson, which provides info on the obvious topic, along with a checklist and evidence of psychopaths all around us--especially in finance. Now Dish knows for sure she's dodged at least three psychopaths.

A sad loss: Cliff Robertson has passed away at 88. Blessings on his coming and going. And of course, blessings on those souls who left us ten years ago.


Anonymous said...

I'm so sorry your father said that to you. The more I think about it, the worse it sounds. More power to you for being able to overcome that awfulness and find happiness. And thank you for the book recommendation re: Eleanor Roosevelt. Much more worthwhile than War & Peace which I was contemplating attempting again solely as part of a literary pissing contest.

Dish Upon a Star said...

Thanks, Anonymous. Yeah, I didn't luck out in some departments, but I am a very lucky girl. When I feel down about the paternal issue, I realize others have it far worse, don't have any parents at all. I have a lot of love in my life, which helps with perspective. What is important is that you win your literary pissing contest--I'm serious. I have War & Peace ready to reread. After Eleanor, I may start on it. Thanks for inspiring me.