The Swandive

the anti-caturday

It seems the winter slumber and lazy saturdays (our kitty tigger calls 'em caturdays) are officially over. The snowing and dark days of wanting to just read the paper, cuddle in and catch some marathons of You Are What You Eat and Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares were not on the agenda yesterday. Here was the line up of fun that has been had over the last 48 hours.

• Get an email from awesome friend who lives in Boston, asking if we could have her friend who would be in Minneapolis for interviews, stay with us. She tells us he's awesome and fun. We say sure, why not. One: always trust said friend. Two: Free pool+good friends+lesbian bar+drag show+pizza luce delivery+random nice guy = fun.
• Get hair cut by your one and only hairdresser who gets you and just happens to work at Fantastic Sams. So what - he rules. And my hair looks good, finally.
• Eat "breakfast" at new restaurant, Common Roots. Yum.
• Go to home show and learn more about putting a new roof on the house.
• Go to Creative Kidstuff in Linden Hills and find most awesome gifts for niece and nephew to make you officially the "Greatest Aunties In The World."
• Go to Home Store for Linden Hills Co-op and find the most awesome cheese grater, to compliment the most awesome christmas gift from earlier mentioned friend(s) - MicroPlane rules.
• Go to support and say hi to friend(s) at Compassionate Action for Animals, who just moved into their new great space. Fun party with lots of vegan gifts. (learn later you bid on a really cute shirt for 5 bucks and won!)
• Go be awesome aunties at 4 and 2 year old birthday party. Gifts are a hit. See people you see once a year and have a surprisingly lovely time.
• Eat some yummy pasta at D'Amico.
• Meetup with friends from earlier (from the grand opening), get some really awesome cheap wine, and settle in for a night of discussion, laughter, good friends, some more pizza, a movie and getting your mind blown.
• Collapse because you know Sunday you have to present a big thing for work, and you'll need all the sleep you can get.

rockin' my cube

So I have the Pandora kickin' as usual today and for some reason - it is just seriously rockin'.
I love Pandora, do you? Wanna listen to my station - All Chick Radio? Sooooooo good.
My Friday playlist:

• Nothing Compares 2 U - Sinead O'Connor
• Little Monsters - Charlotte Gainsbourgh
• The Prettiest Thing - Norah Jones
• The Valley - kd Lang
• Lovers Speak - Joan Armatrading
• Time and Tide - Basia
• Love Can Build A Bridge - The Judds
• Circle - Edie Brickell & New Bohemians
• You Could Make A Killing - Aimee Mann
• To Let You See Me - Melissa Ferrick

If I had a million dollars...F5

It's Friday!

My nose has been to the grindstone during the day - making my feet firmly "up" at night. I am so delighted it is Friday. The Friday 5 is actually something that sweetie and I talk about all the time. So... off we go!

Singing Owl says: A Million Dollar Friday Five

Lingering effects of a cold have me watching more television than usual. There appears to be a resurgence of the old daytime staple--the quiz show. Except they are on during prime time, and a great many of them offer the chance of winning one million dollars.

I think it started with Regis Philbin and "Who Wants to be a Millionaire?" but now we have a half dozen or so.

My husband and I started musing (after watching "Deal or No Deal") about what we could do with a million dollars. I thought I'd just bring that discussion into the Friday Five this week. It's simple. What are five things you would want to do with a million dollar deposit in your bank account?

1. 10% right off the top would go to organizations that we are passionate about. Sweetie and I contemplate which ones they are, and mine, in no particular order are Aeon (The mission of Aeon is to create and sustain quality affordable homes that strengthen lives and communities, located in Minneapolis and serving the greater Twin Cities area), a few churches (2 or 3) and our local neighborhood organization.
2. 10% into savings/some sort of financially sound resting place for money to grow.
3. 10% to family.
4. Pay. Off. The. House. Then put on a new roof (with solar or at least solar ready), new gutters, new windows, on demand water heater.
5. Two vacations. One of sweeties dreams, and mine - going back to where I used to live - St. Thomas, St. John (USVI) and Tortolla (BVI) for two weeks.

Now, where was I? Oh yeah... keep working on my PowerPoint for Sundays presentation.

re-membering

I think I will always look back on Holy Week '08 with heartfelt gratitude and a sense of awe. The week took me on a journey within that I had not been on in a while. It helped me remember the people I have known along the years, the ones that I have known for just a short while, the lessons I have had to learn, and the gifts that have been given to me along the way. I have been prayed for, encouraged, and even had some old friends help me to remember my ma in ways I had not remembered her in a very long time.

Every Wednesday morning at my (newish) job, we gather as a staff and worship. Yesterday when we gathered, the worship leader chose the word "remember" as our theme. She shared a brilliant story of how her child had to remember, as she was preparing for and then participating in the national finals of her sport, that she knew what to do. She just had to get back in touch - remember - what she had learned to get herself this far. Let go of the screaming crowds, the noise - and go within to remember and get in touch with what she already knew.

Years ago, I once heard someone talk about the word itself. Re (to do again, go back) and member (something or someone that is connected to something or one else). When we have lost our way, feel disconnected, or are walking in and through darkness, the key is to re-member. Pull back together your fragmented self, and find your whole self, your center, your core. It is there that ones true nature, inner light lives.

Now onward, forward, upward, and tally ho!

The Story of Ma: (not) the end

In looking through some of my old files, I have stumbled into some words that I hold very dear to me. In the video from yesterdays post, there is a picture of my mom with a very dear friend, Gene. He wrote a reflection for her memorial. I want to share them with you. I think that this is as beautiful as any gift that has ever been given to us.

Easter is almost here. Went to church tonight, it was amazing, and has given me some more thoughts about death, light, darkness, hope and one of my mom's favorites "just do it." But I don't have it worked out just quite yet. Gene writes...

First, let me remind all of White's kids, Rachel, Manette, Reggie, and Cassie, that your mother loved you each passionately...please let the memory of her love comfort and inspire you...also know that I will always be available to each of you--reminding you of her love and her hopes and dreams for your lives...

I am proud to have had Anne White as a friend and mentor.  Few people have ever lived life so fiercely, or acted with such integrity or loved so loyally.  She taught by example...She was a survivor...and instilled survival skills in those she loved...  She was always the first to
catch you when you fell and the first to "kick you in your butt" once she determined you were OK.

I'm not sure that White fully understood the positive influence she had on many people--especially me.  I witnessed her as a mother providing for the future of her children; as a teacher working to maximize the potential within each of her students; and as a friend listening to me and loving me unconditionally.

In his book, "The Fall of Freddie the Leaf," Leo Buscaglia uses the life of a leaf to try and explain the mysteries of life and death.  I take particular comfort in the final passages...

"...Then Freddie was alone. The only leaf left on his branch.

The first snow fell the following morning. It was soft, white, and gentle; but it was bitter cold. There was hardly any sun that day, and the day was very short. Freddie found himself losing his color, becoming brittle. It was constantly cold, and the snow weighed heavily upon him.

At dawn, the wind came that took Freddie from his branch. It didn't hurt at all. He felt himself float quietly, gently, and softly downward.

As he fell, he saw the whole tree for the first time. How strong and firm it was! He was sure that it would live for a long time, and he knew that he had been a part of its life, and it made him proud.

Freddie landed on a clump of snow. It somehow felt soft, and even warm. In this new position he was more comfortable than he had ever been. He closed his eyes and fell asleep. He did not know that spring would follow winter, and that the snow would melt into water. He did not know that what appeared to be his useless dried self would join with the water and serve to make the tree stronger. Most of all he did not know that there, asleep in the tree and the ground were already plans for new leaves in the spring.

…The Beginning"

I hope that White left the tree peacefully and gently.  I believe that White found pride, comfort and wonder in seeing the "whole tree".  I know that her life has and will continue to nourish us all.

Most of all, I love, miss, and will always be indebted to, Anne White.

The Story of Ma: Part 5

This series started because of a nod and nudge from a friend, and truthfully, from inside.

It has felt good to get the nuts and bolts out, and let some tears go, raise my fist a bit internally, and soak up the prayers. I think in some way, it may be time to let some of this go. Not jump shark or totally bail, but to lay it at the foot of the cross and let it rest there.

So I'll try to answer a few common questions, open the 'floor' up to your questions, and then say thank you. I will sit in front of the tomb, and wait. (she's not here... she is alive... she is risen... she is at peace... this is what I hear more often now-a-days.)

So do you know what happened?
No. I don't. I know that she loved her kids fiercely, I know that she did not 'mean' to leave. I know that she loves her kids now - from beyond - and I know that this is what we all were supposed to experience. I have resigned myself to live in the beauty of gray. The unknowing. The mystery. Its not solid pat answers. But you are kidding yourself if you think you really "know" anything anymore. Its easier this way, not knowing. You get to make shit up.

What about her husband?
He is happily remarried to a beautiful and wonderful woman. He is a Christian. He has moved on. I give this up to prayer. I don't know how else to share an existence in the same family with him. I have forgiven him, for all he has done to me personally, and to my mother. He is the father of my siblings that I love more than anything, and so I must find a way to be in this world with him. God intervenes on my behalf a lot.

"It must bring you peace, knowing at least." or "It must help you move on now, knowing."
Well, yes. I know she is dead. Its not what I was hoping for. I would not call what I have peace. It brings me profound grief on some days. Other days, it is a deep source of comfort. It just IS. Its a fact, I can now hang my hat on. She is gone. She is not a missing person. I am one of the lucky ones who do get to say this, as I know so many who do not. People go missing all the time. Some stories make the news. Some don't. Of course I can move on now, I had to start 'moving on' years ago. Now i just don't have some far off hope of her moving in with me when we find her or something.

So there you have it. The story of Ma, as told through her first-born child and #1 fan.

Anne Elizabeth White
Born March 21, 1945
Missing February 6, 1999
Found deceased May 9, 2005
Teacher, childrens story-teller, dancer, actress, mom, daughter, sister, best friend.
Happy Birthday ma. I love you.

(the words are from her classroom, laminated wisdom that used to hang all around her classroom)

The Story of Ma: Part 4

The story would start to come together, but still to this day there is so much I don't know with regards to what really happened. I am not sure I ever will.

Baby sister came home from the dance at around 1 am, and saw my mom asleep in the living room in her Lazy-E-Boy chair that she slept in sometimes. Sis went to bed. Shortly after it seems my mom would walk, 7 miles up the road, in February, with nothing more that a pair of jeans, her nike shoes, a sweatshirt, and her big brown down jacket on. She did have a bag with her, but apparently it was not the one that had her bag/purse (with her wallet) in it. She just had herself and whatever was in that bag. She rang the doorbell at my dad and step-moms house at just after 2 am. They invited her in, and asked if she wanted to talk about it. She said that she was just really tired and wanted to get some sleep. So they offered her the spare bedroom, told her it was all going to be alright, and they would see her in the morning.

At around 7 am my step mom got up to put on some coffee and rolls, went to go say good morning to my mom, and she was not there.

They called me and my sister around 10 am, to see if we had heard from her. We had not, we called over to see if she went home. She didn't. The search would officially start. The police were called, searching in the woods and around her house started. My dad and step mom looked for clues, hints, anything around their house that would give them any idea as to what happened.

The bedroom and bed she was offered early that morning, were nearly untouched. They thought there was a bottle from the liquor cabinet missing, as well as an afghan blanket. There was not any snow, so there were no tracks leading to a direction that she might have left in.

The options now for where she might be were now seemingly endless. We did not know if she had her wallet. We did not know so much. We still don't. The facts were few, the theories were endless.

facts (we think):  She left home just after 1 am. She arrived at dad and step moms just after 2. She was having a hard time, enough to make her walk to their house. She had little to nothing with her. She did not seem critical enough to stay up and talk about whatever "it" was. She had been drinking earlier on either Friday night or Saturday morning, but was clear and OK enough when she showed up at dad and step moms house. She was not staggering or unable to walk. She seemed 'fine'.

I don't know, just don't know what really happened. She was found, less than one mile away, May 9th, 2005. She was found by a man who was hunting for morrell mushrooms in the park reserve that my dad and step mom live in. (I still pray for that man, who I never met, because I can't imagine what that would be like to push up into a human skull unexpectedly.)

The park is over 25 square miles. A huge park. There were over 5 searches, with dogs and FLR technology, hundreds and hundreds of people searched. For years. We searched the park, the places she walked, the places she liked to walk, the woods out back of her home. I consulted with psychics, mediums, psychic chat boards, even Sylvia Browne (who was so shockingly F'ing wrong - I can't even stand it). We thought she might be at a little shack / cabin in the woods out west (because it belonged to a long lost family member).

Can you imagine - the whole world is your search field?

And do you watch those shows like Law and Order, or CSI? Isn't it nice how the story wraps up in an hour? Can you imagine, your life suddenly becomes like one long episode that never ends? And what the hell do you do anyway? Give up? Not an option. Move on, well shit, you HAVE to. But how can you?

Its funny, every time I tell this story and then say that we did find her, and were able to have a 3rd and final memorial service for her, with what was left of her remains, now cremated, with us, people say "Well, that must bring you peace, you know...to know."

Really? Do you hear yourself? Peace?

(to be continued...)

The Story of Ma: Part 3

It was February of 1999. I was 27. At the time I was working at a pub downtown, bartending. I worked every Saturday with my best friends, Tina and George. I was dating Sam(antha).

I got a call, like so many I had received before. It was my baby sister. It was the night of the snowball dance, which in case you don't know what that is, its like the homecoming dance except without the football game, and its winter which in these parts of the country means it is COLD. For a sophomore in high school who is highly social, its a big deal. There are hair appointments, nails to 'get did', flowers, you get the picture. It really is a whole day affair getting ready for a big night like this.

So baby sis called and said that mom was 'out of it' which is code for she is at the very beginning of a binge and that would render her totally unavailable for mom duties. Her dad was out of town on a work trip, and he was not available. She had a thousand things to do, and didn't want her night to be ruined. "Can you come?" she asked. (Adrenaline kicks into high gear here)

Shit shit shit. This was not a new question to me. I have been here before, and in the past have been able to have jobs where getting the day off was not a problem. But this day - there was no one I could get a hold of to cover my shift. I tried and tried for over an hour. Finally, Sam offered to go on my behalf. The comic relief here is really lost - and is best shown through actually seeing the people that my baby sis and my former partner are. Having a girly day fest could not be a more foreign concept to Sam. She is not the most externally feminine person I know. (I still think of this request that I made of her, and just believe that she is one of the most amazing humans I know.)

The day really is a flurry blurry haze for me. Moms husband was called home, errands were run, I was managing the initial needs from behind the bar, 25 miles away. Cassie got off to the dance, for the time being, everything seemed alright. The next late morning I got the call that would change my life. It was the call I hoped would never come. "Had I heard from my mom?" It was my dad and step-mom calling.

The pieces and parts of the story of what had happened would rapidly start coming together. They had to, we had to call the police. We knew the drill. Call the police, tell them she is missing, and then wait to file the official missing persons report 48 long, seemingly endless hours later. We would start looking right away, in all the usual places. But this time was just SO DIFFERENT. In so many ways.

First, she had a breakdown over a humongous big deal of a day for one of her kids.
Second, she showed up at my dad and step-moms house. This had never happened, and was only discussed so that we knew what it meant. She had established with her therapist (and my dad and step mom) that if she ever felt that her life were in grave danger, she could go to my dad and step-moms home, as a safe haven of sorts, and would be welcome anytime of day or night, no questions asked.

The doorbell rang at just passed 2 in the morning.

The Story of Ma: Part 2

(Sorry I stepped away yesterday. All is well. Anyway, on with the story.)

I think there are two more background pieces to know. Both are really difficult to write, especially for the wide and unknown audience that this space has, and because well, they are not pretty pieces. So I struggle to figure out how to "T" this up.

If my ma were to walk into the room right now, bet your ass I would crumble down in tears of extreme joy, embrace her like she has never been held, and promise to never ever let her go. You see, I think that love changes our paradigm. When we love, so fully, so completely, there is almost nothing in this world that can come between us. There is nothing so awful, so horrific, that love cannot overcome. From love, a wellspring of forgiveness seems endless. From love, there is no judgment, no I told you so's, no holding back.

We all have our cross. I have come to believe that before we are born - God, the Universe, Holy Source of Our Being - has got a path for us to take. We agree to this path, because we know, in the most unconscious places of our being, that we serve a higher calling, a higher purpose. We are a part of where the world is going. I believe that some of us have what could be perceived as easier and harder roles or jobs to do. I think my mom agreed to a very difficult role.

That being said, she struggled with two things that I believe would ultimately play a role in this story.

1. She was really struggling with her marriage. I don't know that I can say more than that. There are a great deal of stories wrapped up in this little phrase. I honestly spent so many years pondering this piece, and know that I will never really know what this meant. There were accusations on all sides - of infidelity, of abuse, leaving. It seems like everyone that I know has a different version of what 'exactly' was going on. All I can say without doubt is that she was not happy in her marriage.
2. She was an alcoholic.

You know that there are many different kinds of alcoholics. She was a binge drinker. She would be sober for long (sometimes years) periods of time, and then *wham*, like a mack truck it would come. She would be physically and emotionally unavailable. She would black out / pass out for periods that were often between 24 and 48 hours at a time. There is no way to know exactly when these times would come. They could be triggered by her being in a bad place with her husband, sometimes it would be because of her family - or his, and sometimes the reasons never came. It just happened and we all had to deal as best we could. During this time, I became the temporary 'mom' figure.

When this would happen, she would sometimes 'hide'. She would lock herself in the bathroom, or somewhere in the house, or - she would walk outside and find a place to just be in the woods behind the house. She would try to HIDE. Physically and emotionally. She was SMART. PROUD. She knew, all along, how awful it was for us. She knew, but no matter how hard she tried, no matter how 'good' she was, the dis-ease had a hold on her. She was powerless to it, and as much as I know she tried to stop it from happening, she just couldn't. Her DNA, her background, her demons, were just a bit too real and too big and hairy for anyone to overcome.

The Story of Ma: Part 1

In thinking about how to shape this story I have come to think that having a bit of background might be helpful. You know - people don't just up and disappear do they? OK - sometimes they do, but most often there is some sort of lead up, some back story that is helpful to know.

In the case of my ma, I think it is helpful to know that she was one of the most beautiful people ever to be born. She comes from a family of all ridiculously intelligent people, IQ's off the charts. All of her siblings and her parents were genius types. Maybe you already know that sometimes genius types aren't always the most emotionally intelligent people. Mix this with her "hotness factor" or stunningly good looks from a very early age, and well, you get a story of heartbreak and triumph.

From my memory, I never heard warm and wonderful things about her growing up. It was one story of abuse after another (when and if she would share a story), in addition to confusion and mis-use of the word love. Her father was an alcoholic and womanizer. Her mother was detached and for some reason did not see or protect herself, much less her kids. All of the kids, ma included, have spent time in therapy, have battled with mental illness and/or addiction. She has 3 siblings.

The last time I saw or spoke with anyone from my ma's side of the family (prior to her disappearance) was from when I was very little - like 6. I knew of them, but did not really know any of them. In her later life, she would try to reconcile with her dad and her mom, with some success. I was already into my mid to late 20's when this was happening, and was too stupid and formed to want to be any part of it.

My mother was brilliant. She taught English (for the super smart kids and the ones literally being left behind), Drama (still the reason I love Godspell so much), and Reading Skills. She was funny, quick, sharp tonged as they come. She was the hardest High School teacher you would ever have, and by the time the class was over - she was your favorite.

My ma was married 3 times. Once to my dad, and twice to her second husband. She divorced him once, because he was convicted of sexually abusing me. But because (I believe) of her complete and utter dedication to her children by her second husband (not wanting them to grow up without a dad) and her inability to believe in herself as a strong, capable, smart woman who could raise 4 kids (2 on her own), and because she did not know or ever experience or could allow herself to experience 'real love' - she married her (and my) abuser again.

This is the part of the story that is most difficult to write. Please refrain from making judgments about someone who's shoes you have never walked in. Being a 'battered woman' doesn't always look like the movies. Being intelligent emotionally and intellectually, are two different things. She made the best choices she knew how to make - with all the tools she had been given. Maybe you are I would have made different choices. We can't know, because we were not her.

I don't know why her marriage to my dad did not work out - except all I can remember prior to their divorce was the screaming. I don't know why she re-married her second husband - after all we had been though - except she did. I don't think she loved me any less. I think she just really did not ever ever know what 'real love' was. The purest love that she ever knew was for and from her kids, and even though I had always hoped it would be enough - I am just not sure that it was. I mean how could it be - a lifetime of shit to overcome? Love - She didn't get it from her parents who were abusive. She did not get it from church (the first place that she was ever sexually abused outside of the home). She looked for it in books, and bad relationships. And that love, always seemed to be a page turn away.