Important moments

Being an unemployed New Yorker to many means moving back home. I know a few too many couples who had to come back home to their respective parents and to them that meant being separated - no longer a married couple, but now individuals coming back home to live with the parents. A few brought back their kid(s), the girls going with mom and the boys going with Dad. Then there is a handful of single folks. (I am not even going to add up the amount of unemployed New Yorkers who have had to double and triple up as roommates in their apartments because they have no extended family.)

I was one of the ones that came back home, feeling very ashamed that I could NOT sustain myself after losing my own apartment after exhausting my savings and 401k. Sure I've gotten to know my parents a bit more as an adult, but I'm also reminded almost hourly as to why I moved out at 19 or 20.

There are days that they way the transact with each other melts my heart. The kindness and patience that my dad has for my mom is like none other I've seen. He doesn't only hold the door for her, or pull out the chair, I've seen him lean over and cut her pancakes for her, make breakfast for her.

There are days when I want to run and never look back, my mom clearly always emphasizing, "a mom she to a daughter was not what she was meant to be". She wanted all sons. So I'm like the handbag that doesn't go with any of her outfits. Boy is she a fashionista at heart.

Then there are days, however, that my heart just breaks. Days that that I really feel sad for my parents, and even a touch of empathy for mom. 

Last Monday, when I got back from a "working weekend" my dad excitedly greeted me telling me that my brother had invited them over to their home. My heart just opened up and I literally felt my entire body exhale. Finally. It was like the rain clouds had parted and the sun shone. I was supposed to work on Saturday, but it was really really nice to know that they would be going to visit my brother. "The Grands" were finally going to vist their grandchildren in their snazzy new apartment. 

They went shopping Tuesday. Mom picked up a jacket and was doing her finishing touches on it (she practically redesigns every purchase she makes, not just because she is so very petite, but sewing was always a passion of hers. She wanted to go to FIT to study fashion design. Dad had picked up a new shirt, and they were super excited.

Today was the day. Mom was up at 6:30 a.m. putting the finishing touches on her top, ironing my dad’s slacks and shirt, again. At 10 a.m. they greeted various building contractors and by 11 a.m. my brother showed up.  Within 15 minutes I saw the glimmer of disappointment in my mom’s eyes – I think she realized she misunderstood. He wasn’t coming over to take them out. He was coming over to check on the building and meet with the various contractors. She grudgingly made a short grocery list and asked my dad to go to the market.

At dinner time, my parents and I silently ate…my Dad broke the silence by saying, "I guess your mom and I  misunderstood. When you were in Jersey your brother called and we thought he had called to invite us over to his home this weekend." As I ate dinner, I could not make eye contact with either of them, because if I did -- I knew I’d get teary eyed.

THIS is what my brother fails to see. I saw it when I had my monster apartment and worked 14 hours a day and traveling out of town for work, it smacks me in the face now that I am physically back in the same home as they are. It's not about dropping by with a fancy gift or money. It's not about family gatherings where no one has time to interact on a personal level - just superficial chats and major public comedy jabs at each other.  It's about the inidivdual quality time, a private dinner and conversation, enjoying a show together and having dessert and coffee after to talk. Not a group full of noisiness where no one could be heard but were only two people are the center of attraction and no real conversations are ever had, but lots of gossip follows after. 

I’ve spent the past three years trying to point out to my brother, that he should invite my parents to his home at least more than once a year. Maybe around Christmas time or in the Fall. They lived in the same building for so many years, that when they moved out to the upper east side, I saw my mom age tremendously when her “baking buddy” (my niece) moved out. Kids grow up I understand that. But living in the same state, claiming to be “so close and family oriented” I find it ironic that in three years my parents have only been invited over twice. But I’m the “bitch” who makes a big deal of it. Being a "connector" seems to be a big problem for most folks in my family. 

I wish I had the money to send The Grands off to vacation half the year to spend time with their families out of town, I figured it may be easier to be in another state from this NY based family -- because then its acceptable that you don’t ever call each other and only see other for Christmas. The irony always comes when folks die, and everyone gather’s round to pay their respects -- all a little too late in my book, it should have been done when the person was alive. Let them know when they are alive what they mean to you. 

When I was recently sick and reached out to family - I was told "I could not be loved the way I wanted to" where the f#@k that came from I have no clue. I needed someone to go to a few doctors appointments with me and my head was reeeling and I knew I could not worry The Grands as they are way too fragile at their age. But it hit me, as a dishwasher or as a resource or as comedy act, I am good enough, but to call and say "hey how are you, lets have dinner" -- I am not. That's when it hit me, my family is right in front of me. My parents who took me in and let me move back into my childhood room rent free (and, yes live their rules). My family are the friends who called weekly to say, "how is it going?" Or took the time to say, "lets go to a movie and a cup of hot chocolate, my treat." Friends who took the time to call and to help me forget I was unemployed and did not even have the bus fare to meet them half way. Friends who called and said, "take a drive me with me, keep me company I have a few errands to run" - who did not realize the ability to get and a car and temporarily escape the pressue of "will they call about that resume I sent," "will I have a follow up interview," "how will I pay next months phone bill?" "how do I ask for money again this week for a metro card to get to interviews?"

I am doing the best I can with the means that I have for The Grands - they are what matters...even though I would rather have my teeth pulled out one by one with no anesthia than spend more than 10 minutes with my mom - thank goodness dad is the connector that HE is.  Thank goodness.