I am still having trouble posting regularly. I feel like it has something to do with the intrinsic nature of sharing and blogging. With blogging so often you give up pieces yourself, you share your experiences, share your thoughts, and share yourself. I still really don’t want to go out much. I just don’t feel social. Getting together with good friends is one thing, making small talk is another. I will attempt to post more, as I am now back in Turkey and taking trips. It just feels like I have blogging inertia. Fellow bloggers, do you ever feel blogless?
I am starting to get back…to what? Not to the way things were, but to a new normal. After the wake and service, everyone else’s life went back to normal. Ours still has a huge gaping wound in it. Nothing works or functions the way it used to. All of us have issues, and daily reminders. There is nothing like starting the day by trying to cajole the dog to do her business. Sometimes she will do so if bribed, but otherwise is still waiting for Dad to walk her.
For the last few weeks I have not wanted to really do anything, see anyone. The impulse to isolate myself is slowly fading. A couple of weekends ago I went to a good friends wedding. I was able to see friends I haven’t seen in five years. I had a great time, and opened up a little more. Friday I met up with a childhood friend I haven’t seen in about 20 years, and we were able to really connect and had fun. I have been off the grid for a while, but am slowly making my way back into life. One day at a time we are building a new foundation for the way our lives are now.
Thursday night my father died. We were so stunned and exhausted that we came home, had a drink and went to bed. It took us a long time to go to sleep. I know this because I slept with my mom that night. Neither one of us wanted to sleep by ourselves.
Friday we woke up, and the sun was still shining, and my father was still dead. I made pea soup, called my husband, researched how to submit obituaries and managed not to die of sadness.
Saturday I woke up, and the sun was still shining, and my father was still dead. It helped to know that my husband was coming in Saturday night. My brother’s girlfriend is amazing. She was (and is) so helpful. She was at the hospital all afternoon on Thursday, brought sandwiches, and helped advocate for my father. She drove down to Boston and picked up my husband from the Boston airport at 11:30 PM and then drove 2 hours north to our home.
I have felt so supported by my family and friends, people sending food and calling. Many of my friends emailed me such wonderful things. One friend tried to move heaven and earth to get food and flowers delivered to my remote home. Another went through my closet finding clothes I asked to be sent to the States with Bülent. The last few days have been extremely difficult, but with the help of friends and family it has been, maybe not less painful, but a more supported journey.
I have been back in NH for eight days. I have missed being here. Though it has not been my normal visit. It has been different this time around. There is an underlying sadness. Not grief or depression, but a melancholy that surrounds us all. When know why, and it is not ignored, but neither is it discussed.
It has a busy week. I flew in on Monday to NYC. I had to reroute because I missed my flight due to a delay. Tuesday I hung out with my aunt and darling cousin, and shopped. Then I spent a week with my dad dad at the hospital.
Tonight is my third night at my parents home, though both my mom and dad are at the hospital. Tomorrow my dad is having surgery. Wish us all luck.
I am heading back to the States, a little sooner than anticipated, and am taking care of business. As you do when you live in Turkey, and return to the U.S. for extended periods of time…you take care of the expensive shit. Which is why I have gone to the gynecologist and the dentist in the same week—Because you know that is fun! Also my dog ate my night mouth guard yesterday. Awesome!
It is also why I am going to stock up on birth control and allergy medication before I leave. Not only do I have comprehensive health insurance in Turkey, both private and State, but also many things are available over the counter that are not in the US. For my time in the U.S. I am also paying out of pocket for six months of private health insurance, all health insurance related expenses will be reimbursed up to the (fairly generous) limit once I return to Turkey—for $300! Ridiculous! So tomorrow I will get my eyebrows done, but since it is winter—I will skip the bikini wax—I think between the gynecologist and the dentist I have had enough fun.
This weekend was Wellesley College’s reunion weekend. Every year the first weekend in June Wellesley alums swarm the campus and return to the mothership. Wellesley the bastion of feminism and sisterhood. I loved my time at Wellesley, the stimulating classes, the independence, the amazing people I create lifelong friendships with. Since I could not go, here is an homage to Wellesley!
There were popped collars and fur hats and impromptu mall runs…
Trips through Europe where we stayed in co-ed hostels, had lockers fall on us and were attacked by pirates. We were so fabulous that since it was cold we would tie our bread and cheese in bags and hang it outside the window to stay fresh.
Beginning of Senior year…
There were hugs and tears and boys and girls and break ups and new relationships.
There was wrestling in Tower Courtyard.
There was hoop rolling by Lake Waban…
There were mini-reunions in Phoenix and San Diego…
Mini-reunions in San Francisco
They are the friends that fly in all over for your wedding. Who come back early from countries like Japan, who drive up a week early to help your family organize your wedding.
My friends knew I was disappointed I could not go to the Wellesley Reunion so they included me in their celebrations. My friend Kate printed out a photo of my face and brought me along to the reunion.
Flat Jules as they called her, had an amazing time at Reunion.
With friends as wonderful and thoughtful as them it is no wonder that many of my best memories take place on Wellesley’s campus or with the people I met there.