My father's house is sold and it will close this coming Monday and starting from that day the house will belong to another person and become their family's legacy. A relative of mine is helping me sort out the final details like holding an estate sale, donating away what has not been sold and taking the rest to the dumpster.
My sadness is also combined with disappointment, I wanted to keep the house for posterity, I wanted my kids (when I get around to that enterprise) to see the house their grandpa built. But, alas, it is not to be and the reasons are many as is the blame. It's not just any old house, it was a house that my father designed and built and it's an amazing house considering that he was not was not schooled in any of the disciplines required to build a house from the ground up. I was always so proud that I could tell people that my dad built his house and now it will not be his nor my house anymore.
The journey to this juncture is long and complicated but I accept the blame (I find it easier to cope with things when I take responsibility for the things I contributed to a situation). It gives me a false sense of control. To make a long story short, the reason that I ended up in this position of having to sell one of my most beloved possessions is because I caved to the pressures of my life. It is such a burden to be the sole provider of your family, especially of your other half is a proud man. It's such a delicate balancing act of not having to hurt the other person's pride. They weren't kidding when they said that it was a man's recession, it really is. It would be so nice if this burden can be lifted off of me or if not at least be allowed the freedom to do as I please with how to organize our finances. It's so difficult to have to go on and pretend that your husband is the provider when he clearly is not and to have to include him in all of your money decisions like he was the one earning it. I don't know why I do it? I suppose that I love him very much and I don't want him to feel diminished and humiliated.
Lately, I have been suffering from a bout of misandry. When it comes down to it, it is the women of this world that bear the burden of our families. It is the women that put their pride aside and do the work that needs to be done to support her family, while the men are griping about how their jobs have disappeared to India. And on top of shouldering all the burdens, we have to worry about the pride and ego of our menfolk.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Monday, April 5, 2010
Happy Easter
I realized yesterday was the first time I went to a proper Easter Sunday mass. I was baptized two years ago on Easter Vigil, which is the day before but for one reason or another, I was never able to make to church on Easter Sunday itself.
Needless to say, it was very festive, children in their Sunday's finest, little girls with pink bows in their hair and Easter baskets in their hand. It was a picture of loveliness. I suppose as a parent, one waits for occasions like this and I suppose a successful holiday season where your children are well behaved will erase the one million tantrums they've thrown up until then.
Parenthood is a mysterious subject to me, not because I am not a parent, I have been around enough people who are parents in my life to get an idea what it's like. My relationship with my parents are spotty at best, like all people, there are ups and downs but in general it is good. I love them and I know they love me. I have no lingering bitterness or resentment towards them, which I believe is the most optimal outcome regardless how your relationship was before.
What is mysterious to me is how acrimonious and antagonistic some parent/child relationships are, people put in huge sacrifices to become parents, some people give up their whole life's dream because of parenting duties, so why bother if the end result is so bad. Why bother with this whole enterprise of parenthood if in the end both parties are just going to muck it up? What is the point of all of this when at the end your kids can't stand you, you hate their choice of partner in life or choice of career, you can't be in the same room with them for more than 10 minutes before some verbal altercation breaks out, what is the point? Doesn't anyone concede at some point and say "this is not right, let's grow up and accept each other". You may not like my choices and for sure I hate your choices, but can't we agree to disagree and try to get along like civilized people?
Needless to say, it was very festive, children in their Sunday's finest, little girls with pink bows in their hair and Easter baskets in their hand. It was a picture of loveliness. I suppose as a parent, one waits for occasions like this and I suppose a successful holiday season where your children are well behaved will erase the one million tantrums they've thrown up until then.
Parenthood is a mysterious subject to me, not because I am not a parent, I have been around enough people who are parents in my life to get an idea what it's like. My relationship with my parents are spotty at best, like all people, there are ups and downs but in general it is good. I love them and I know they love me. I have no lingering bitterness or resentment towards them, which I believe is the most optimal outcome regardless how your relationship was before.
What is mysterious to me is how acrimonious and antagonistic some parent/child relationships are, people put in huge sacrifices to become parents, some people give up their whole life's dream because of parenting duties, so why bother if the end result is so bad. Why bother with this whole enterprise of parenthood if in the end both parties are just going to muck it up? What is the point of all of this when at the end your kids can't stand you, you hate their choice of partner in life or choice of career, you can't be in the same room with them for more than 10 minutes before some verbal altercation breaks out, what is the point? Doesn't anyone concede at some point and say "this is not right, let's grow up and accept each other". You may not like my choices and for sure I hate your choices, but can't we agree to disagree and try to get along like civilized people?
Saturday, April 3, 2010
My grandmother
Unlike the real Marie Stuart, I didn't grow up with four other Maries' and I certainly wasn't raised in the French court by the King and Queen of France with the dauphin (also my future husband) as my playmate. My upbringing was much more conventional than that, like a lot of children with busy parents, I was raised by my grandparents. It was the best childhood ever, I was doted on and loved like no other child.
I met my grandmother as an elderly woman, a kind and generous woman who was prone to frayed nerves, nervousness and excessive worry. I saw her as a woman past her prime worrying about everyone and everything that she couldn't control, which I must admit became irritating to me as I got older. I have very little direct knowledge about her when she was young, as she never told me herself, but I know that it was a hard life. She, along with my grandfather were refugees from their homeland and were forced to make a home in a country that is not theirs. They dealt with it as people do but I know it must have been isolating at times to be away from all that you know from childhood.
Today, I happened to speak about my grandmother with another close family member of mine, someone who knew my grandmother very well and she told me about a side of my grandmother that I couldn't have imagined or have ever seen while she was alive. Granny raised five boisterous children almost on her own for most of their childhoods (grandpa's job was far away from home and was only able to visit once a month or so), she was effectively a single mother when her husband was away. She was responsible for providing clothing, shelter, food and education to her five children-at a time where modern conveniences of have not yet reached her. She did this all without a dishwasher, washer or dryer or even a refrigerator. She had to wake up every morning and go to the market and purchase the food that she was to cook for that day only! And on top of that she worked at the government accounting office as an accountant as she was always brilliant at math.
When she left her homeland, she left with her mother (my great-grandmother) and she helped her with the childcare, cooking and cleaning, but unfortunately she got sick-cancer of the stomach. So, on top of taking care of her children, she now took care of her sick mother and her mother was ill for one and a half years before she finally passed away. She made multiple trips to the hospital, now cooking for her dying mother as well, as she didn't trust hospital food. While all this was going on, she didn't breathe one word of hardship to her children, they went along happily in their lives as though nothing was wrong. They knew grandma was ill but not how ill. When her mother was dying and she was struggling with the grief and sadness of losing her beloved mother, she never confided in her children or anyone for that matter, she didn't want to burden them emotionally and her husband was away at work for most of this time. She made sure her children got what they needed and that they continued with their daily routine of school, home and studying. She wanted her children to have the best and to achieve that they must not neglect their studies, it was their only ticket out of poverty and a life of mediocrity. Granny was the most magnanimous, she required nothing in return for her dedication and hard work to her family and I am ashamed to say, she got very little in return. When I became cognizant of this, it was too late.
After hearing her story, I was so touched and so ashamed at the same time. She was such a strong a courageous woman. Life had given her so many hard knocks and yet, at the twilight of her life, she was still able to give me all her unconditional love. Sometimes when I come home from work and I am tired, the last thing I want to do is cook for my husband (or do anything for that matter), I secretly think how little we've come. After all this time, women are still slaves to their home and worse, we have to work now. At least in the 50's women's only job was in the home and she didn't have to work. Now, that's not possible. Anyone who thinks they can depend on a man to support them is a damn fool.
Now, with all the modern conveniences of technology, I still complain from frustration and psychological fatigue. Or perhaps it's arrogance, like I am above all these housekeeping matters, but I am not. Before our conversation ended, my relative said, "it's very easy for housewives to be overlooked and be taken for granted." Truer words have never been said, there are millions of women that came before me, who slaved for their families their whole lives, asked for nothing in return, and they don't even get an ounce of recognition from their nearest and dearest, like it's their job to do what they do.
So for this Easter celebration, I will go into it mindful of the story of my grandmother and countless other nameless and faceless women who sacrificed their all for their families and got no recognition for it. May God bless their souls.
I met my grandmother as an elderly woman, a kind and generous woman who was prone to frayed nerves, nervousness and excessive worry. I saw her as a woman past her prime worrying about everyone and everything that she couldn't control, which I must admit became irritating to me as I got older. I have very little direct knowledge about her when she was young, as she never told me herself, but I know that it was a hard life. She, along with my grandfather were refugees from their homeland and were forced to make a home in a country that is not theirs. They dealt with it as people do but I know it must have been isolating at times to be away from all that you know from childhood.
Today, I happened to speak about my grandmother with another close family member of mine, someone who knew my grandmother very well and she told me about a side of my grandmother that I couldn't have imagined or have ever seen while she was alive. Granny raised five boisterous children almost on her own for most of their childhoods (grandpa's job was far away from home and was only able to visit once a month or so), she was effectively a single mother when her husband was away. She was responsible for providing clothing, shelter, food and education to her five children-at a time where modern conveniences of have not yet reached her. She did this all without a dishwasher, washer or dryer or even a refrigerator. She had to wake up every morning and go to the market and purchase the food that she was to cook for that day only! And on top of that she worked at the government accounting office as an accountant as she was always brilliant at math.
When she left her homeland, she left with her mother (my great-grandmother) and she helped her with the childcare, cooking and cleaning, but unfortunately she got sick-cancer of the stomach. So, on top of taking care of her children, she now took care of her sick mother and her mother was ill for one and a half years before she finally passed away. She made multiple trips to the hospital, now cooking for her dying mother as well, as she didn't trust hospital food. While all this was going on, she didn't breathe one word of hardship to her children, they went along happily in their lives as though nothing was wrong. They knew grandma was ill but not how ill. When her mother was dying and she was struggling with the grief and sadness of losing her beloved mother, she never confided in her children or anyone for that matter, she didn't want to burden them emotionally and her husband was away at work for most of this time. She made sure her children got what they needed and that they continued with their daily routine of school, home and studying. She wanted her children to have the best and to achieve that they must not neglect their studies, it was their only ticket out of poverty and a life of mediocrity. Granny was the most magnanimous, she required nothing in return for her dedication and hard work to her family and I am ashamed to say, she got very little in return. When I became cognizant of this, it was too late.
After hearing her story, I was so touched and so ashamed at the same time. She was such a strong a courageous woman. Life had given her so many hard knocks and yet, at the twilight of her life, she was still able to give me all her unconditional love. Sometimes when I come home from work and I am tired, the last thing I want to do is cook for my husband (or do anything for that matter), I secretly think how little we've come. After all this time, women are still slaves to their home and worse, we have to work now. At least in the 50's women's only job was in the home and she didn't have to work. Now, that's not possible. Anyone who thinks they can depend on a man to support them is a damn fool.
Now, with all the modern conveniences of technology, I still complain from frustration and psychological fatigue. Or perhaps it's arrogance, like I am above all these housekeeping matters, but I am not. Before our conversation ended, my relative said, "it's very easy for housewives to be overlooked and be taken for granted." Truer words have never been said, there are millions of women that came before me, who slaved for their families their whole lives, asked for nothing in return, and they don't even get an ounce of recognition from their nearest and dearest, like it's their job to do what they do.
So for this Easter celebration, I will go into it mindful of the story of my grandmother and countless other nameless and faceless women who sacrificed their all for their families and got no recognition for it. May God bless their souls.
Writer's block
I am having a serious writer's block, one that is not abating and with no end in sight. It's unlike me. I was always known-all through school, to be able to write about any random topic in the world at the drop of a dime. And now, as I am trying to eke out a coherent article about the gubernatorial elections, words and sentences fail me miserably. I feel as though all the English vocabulary where I can usually string coherent and articulate sentences together have taken a leave of absence.
I wake up thinking everyday about writing about relevant current event topics and God knows there are a million to choose from but at this present moment in time, they all fail me. I feel as if a brick has been lodged in my head and it's there to stay. My critical searing and acerbic pen has abandoned me. I don't know what to do. How can this be when I want to be a professional writer? Professional writers have deadlines and they must adhere to them or else they are out of a job. And how are columnists like Maureen Dowd able to write interesting funny and relevant articles everyday, such as "texting is the new lipstick on the collar"-in reference to Tiger Woods. That's brilliant, hits the nail in the coffin.
We are living in the most exciting time in history and I have nothing, a big fat zero. I am so incompetent as a writer.
I wake up thinking everyday about writing about relevant current event topics and God knows there are a million to choose from but at this present moment in time, they all fail me. I feel as if a brick has been lodged in my head and it's there to stay. My critical searing and acerbic pen has abandoned me. I don't know what to do. How can this be when I want to be a professional writer? Professional writers have deadlines and they must adhere to them or else they are out of a job. And how are columnists like Maureen Dowd able to write interesting funny and relevant articles everyday, such as "texting is the new lipstick on the collar"-in reference to Tiger Woods. That's brilliant, hits the nail in the coffin.
We are living in the most exciting time in history and I have nothing, a big fat zero. I am so incompetent as a writer.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
The longest non-sequitur in history
"Oil, of course, is a fungible commodity and they don't flag, you know, the molecules where, where it's going to where it's not but and in the, in the sense of the Congress today they know our very, very hungry domestic markets that need that oil first. So I believe that what Congress is going to do also is not to allow the export bans to such a degree that it's Americans who get stuck holding the bag without the energy source that is produced here, it's gotta flow into our domestic markets first."
If one were to venture a guess on who the above quote belongs to, we needn't look far. Why it's the Caribou Barbie herself, Sarah Palin from the great state of Alaska. I know that Palin-bashing is getting old and we have probably heard every joke there is on her, but this quote is just too good. "A fungible commodity" that doesn't "flag"and the "molecules", seriously, what the flip? Besides needing lessons in World History, she needs lessons in syntax and grammar too. Palin seems incapable of speaking in full complete sentences. She strings her sentences together in a bunch of non-sequiturs. In her book "Going Rogue" this is what she says about eating meat: "If God had not intended for us to eat animals, how come he made them out of meat?" ("Going Rogue," page 133)
It is amazing to see all these people coming out of the woodwork for her. People who appear to be intelligent, coherent and articulate and yet they choose this person as their 'leader'.
A new routine
I am nearing the end of the second week of my assignment, I formed a new morning routine and I am quite pleased with it. I feel that my day is more productive and that I am doing more. I am of more purpose than someone who is just an at-home tech support. Having this job allows me to get out of the house for 8 hours and that's a good thing for my sanity. But when I return home, everything is still waiting for me. Dishes, cooking, cleaning, washing up...I guess somethings never change.
Things are coming together and I am feeling more sure of myself. Maybe it's the Lent and Easter season that is giving me a new jolt of life. I feel less confused and less depressed over things I can't control. Maybe there is some truth behind the winter blues. I am very much looking forward to spring and being happy and content.
Things are coming together and I am feeling more sure of myself. Maybe it's the Lent and Easter season that is giving me a new jolt of life. I feel less confused and less depressed over things I can't control. Maybe there is some truth behind the winter blues. I am very much looking forward to spring and being happy and content.
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