so this post has been a long time coming, but the gap gives me more to document. also the second half might be a bit morose. sorry in advance.
So things I have done since arriving to NYC:
–explored the Morgan Library, the Whitney, the MOMA, the Brooklyn Museum, went on a Banksy art pilgrimage, and stood in the cold outside of the David Zwirner gallery to see the Yayoi Kusama exhibit.
– listened to Chrvches, 2 door cinema club, st. lucia. Kacey Musgraves, and a guy who wrote a song about Ovid’s metamorphoses and played the viol.
– been invited and attended the VH1 YOK concert to see beloved friends (and Lorde, the Lumineers, Haim, and Emeli Sande) play a show, watched a polo tournament,went to a speakeasy in the backroom of a tattoo parlor.
– ate numerous tasty things.
– drank numerous tasty things.
– found some silence and clarity at the Cloisters and at a VESPERS service.
– had visits from good friends and family.
– readjusted to living with someone, and enjoy it.
– actually started volunteering with the elderly.
well that is a perfect segue to the next point.
I think dementia is crueler than death.
My dad’s mother is one of the best women I know. She happened to also be my ride home from school everyday from the ages of 12-18. We would rehash my day, she would give me advice on boys. taught me how to make caramel icing and her cornbread (so good), and sang like an angel. The latter is not hyperbole, back in the day she was scouted out to sing opera, but felt she would be overwhelmed by the big city and didn’t do it. my life (if I had been born) would’ve been very different, methinks.
This woman’s kitchen was an oasis. you sat at the island in the middle on a barstool and she would give all sorts of wisdom. When I left for college, I always thought that Mama would be ever present. sharp as a tack, ready to pray for anything from my general protection and future, to doing well on the next physics exam.
When I left Nashville after medical school, I moved to Philadelphia, and left her a little frailer, but overall still very much the same.
but then my brother left for college, and her routine abruptly stopped and I think that the “thief” started to catch up with her.
There is something really devastating about realizing that a pillar of your life is slowly crumbling away from you. It is extremely hard to adjust to. I am not home anymore, so I only get snippets, but my heart hurts and is wistful about not picking her brain more years ago or recording her singing. I didn’t think you could mourn for someone you can still touch.