Repatriation vs. Rematriation

When you prepare to return home after some time overseas, there is much warning of the difficulties of repatriation. There are people who tell you stories about their friends who were really miserable to be back or had a hard time with such a thing or whatnot. If repatriation means being able to make phone calls with confidence again, enjoying the ease of grocery shopping by being able to know EXACTLY what you are buying, or coming back to a small town community that has an abundance of heart and care for its' students and each other, then I say: Bring it ON!

My difficulty falls more under the category of "rematriation." Today is graduation day in our town. I attended the ceremony because there are several to many kids who are very special to me and happen to be the children of colleagues and dear friends. I reminded Matt during the ceremony that next year it would be him. But then I realized that NEXT YEAR IT WOULD BE HIM.

We chose to give him the freedom to stay home last year while I lived in Japan, and it was really difficult at first. I had random panic attacks at odd moments, I would wake up in the middle of the night worried, or have bad dreams. I cried at anything on TV that had to do with young men (Everwood was especially devastating). Intellectually, I knew Matt was in a really wonderful loving home, with dear friends, and that this was his choice, and he was really happy but to my mother's heart it just felt wrong. The year before, when Matt was in Japan, we spent a lot of time together, hanging out, watching TV, playing games, talking, cracking each other up. Because he didn't really engage with his peers much, I think we really focused on each other. We had a lot of family time. Then I cut him loose for a year.

And oh my, what a year it must have been! I just attended a graduation party where he and his band performed. I was stunned. This kid confidently and competently played piano (when did he get so good?), acoustic guitar, bass, and he sang. He performed a song he wrote for his girlfriend, and handily covered several Ben Folds songs. Wow.

I think when I got back I initially expected perhaps subconsciously that we would be near that old place in our relationship. I was completely wrong. Since I've been back we've actually yelled at each other which had never happened before. Today what was really evident is that he's come into his own. No longer does he need his Mom, at least the way he used to, and for that I am really happy! All parents want to see their children grow to be independent and strong.

So why do I feel so sad on this beautiful summer evening? I realize that I am mourning the somewhat sudden (for me) loss of his boyhood, and the year I missed. So much growth happened, and I missed it. It's almost like a let down, and all the emotion from last year is pouring out at once. And I can't find a frickin' tissue box in the house. Shoot. Darn.

So instead of looking back and feeling sorry for myself, it's time to look ahead, and be grateful that I've got one more year to be Matt's in-the-same-country Mom. Nate and Chris won't be so far away either. But they were already on their way...

Here's to new beginnings.

Car Purgatory

Last evening, I had a friend explain the difference between purgatory and hell. I don't know how it came up, but apparently purgatory is more like a very unpleasant limbo. Neither moving up or down, but being able to see in both directions. Down into the pits of eternal torment, and up the skirts of angels, I guess.

I have been thinking about cars a lot this past week. I have had to need them, drive them, fill them with gas, park them, fill them with stuff, borrow them and now repair them. I am the "owner" of 2 diesel VW New Beetles. They are twins. One good and one evil. The good twin, I'll call him "Lil Green," was bought new by my husband and has been well maintained. It has a reputation around here for being reliable, getting great gas mileage, and almost always is filled to the gills with a drum set. (it even fits an acoustic double bass!)Chris drives it mostly all the time now. It has over 140 thousand miles on it and is still going strong. It gets over 40 mpg on the highway. We love Lil' Green.

Let me introduce you to "Lil' Red." This adorable New Beetle is a newcomer to the family and is shiny, bright red and has a standard transition. It's fun to drive, but deep down, it is evil. This mischievous pretty girl managed to rack up thousands of dollars on her road trip across country this April and May. She broke down in nearly every state she traveled through. I give Nathan a lot of credit for keeping his cool, and not pushing her over a cliff in Death Valley. (Are there cliffs IN Death Valley?) Or abandoning it in Tonopah. They were stuck there for about a week, waiting for parts. There probably aren't a lot of Beetle drivers in the wild west of Nevada State. No parts in stock. I picture a lot of Ram Pickup drivers out there.

Last night, Lil' Red had yet another hissy fit and split and broke a belt in the parking garage of Ithaca. Nate called AAA and had it towed to the local VW Dealer. They won't be able to look at it until Monday. Lil' Green had an appointment in a repair shop in Corning today. We had to borrow a car to get it down there. So both "my cars" are gone this weekend.

Nathan has a job tomorrow driving (the son of one of my Japanese friends) from Ithaca to Massachusetts. I woke up to the reality that we would not actually have a car for him to drive this boy late last night. Uh Oh. Grandparents to the rescue! Nate can now complete his job. Then Uh Oh again. If he takes their car...no car for me. Which is okay, except Chris will need a ride to his job in the morning. So: Joel to the rescue! (Matt's other Mom) So as I type this I am looking out into my driveway and see 2 alien cars out there.

Not long ago about 2 weeks to be exact, I did not have a car, I did not need a car, I was actually happy not to have to deal with a car. If I really needed a ride in a car, I hailed a cab. I walked to the station, I took the train, I carried my groceries home on my bike. There were times I wished for a car, like on rainy days, or days when I needed to do a lot of shopping, but over all we got along without one just fine. We were feeling all smug, green, and superior. We lived in the biggest city in the world. Everything was conveniently located on the public transportation system. It is a different world in metropolitan Japan.

Now I can't wait to get my own ride. In the area that is my property here in NY, the Japanese would probably fit 5,000 people easily into living spaces in the city. I'm thinking high rise apartments in Tokyo. Now I have wide open spaces of not a hell of a lot to cover every day. The bugs are too small. I can't carry groceries or flowers in hanging baskets or laundry baskets or my dog, or (my goodness!) musical instruments enough in them to suit me. I need to haul stuff. That's what I do. I test drove a Passat Wagon at the Import Place in Corning this morning and fell head over heels in love. It's irrational I know, but I felt my body go into a full-blown limbic response. My heart beat a little faster as I settled in and started the car. I was all giggly when Nathan figured out how to open the sun roof and change the way the top opens. He and I ooohed and ahhhhed over the cargo room and the ease in which the back seats folded down. I was dreaming of all the stuff I could haul. Conga drums! Taiko drums! Keyboards! Flower pots! Bags of mulch! Porch umbrellas! Macy, my dog! It was love at first drive.

I had the idea that I would bike more when I got back, but my bike is not here yet, it has been raining all but 2 or 3 days since I got back and I've had to do some serious shopping. I have good intentions, I am just frustrated right at the moment.

Yippee to Matt who rode his bike into town today to go to band practice. However, on his way in, his bike tire exploded and when they were done practicing several hours later, it was raining hard, his bike was broken and he needed a ride. It's been that kind of 24 hours. Stuck in purgatory.

Jet lag at the frat house

I have discovered the quick cure for jet lag! The trick is this: come home to a house that is so dirty and messy that you spend the entire day and evening, (from sun-up to sun-down and beyond) scrubbing, sweeping, picking up, doing laundry, unpacking, dumping bad food, moving furniture and rugs, emptying the garbage and generally being active all day. It was like coming home to a frat house at the end of exam week. The boys insisted that they had been cleaning for a week. Egads, I'm glad I didn't surprise them by coming home early. I slept like a dead person last night, and for 7 hours straight. Today I have a light-headed feeling and occasionally find myself staring off into space with nothing on my mind. And a slight head ache. That's the jet lag. I guess it's still there.

I think my boys are happy to have me home. They are slightly less easy to read than my dog Macy, who is absolutely delighted to have me home. She follows me everywhere and plops at my feet whenever I sit. Such a sweet, calm and wonderful animal. She is a good watch dog. I feel very safe here with her always by my side.

Some friends just called me and asked what my dinner plans were. Now they are bringing over stuff and we will have an impromptu pot-luck. I really missed that kind of relaxed hanging with friends in Tokyo. I had just found a friend like that right before I left. Gotta go make a pasta salad and bake a pie!

Look at the time!

It's Friday the 12th. Missed an awesome school concert back home. Found out Robin won't be coming home with me Tuesday after all. What I thought could be a sea freight load now does indeed have to be an air freight load. Am putting stuff away again. Have been alone all week. Time is grinding along like sandpaper on a sidewalk.

Time for a melt down.

Day, in outline form...

Here are the highlights of my interesting and emotion packed day.

I. Created banana bread for gift.
1. It was one of the most delicious batches ever made.
2. Wrapped all pretty!

II. Found designated meeting place in Shinjuku
1. While waiting, saw young, cute Japanese celebrity work a crowd
of squealing teen girlie girls.
2. Met Moko
3. Rode on scooter through the streets of Tokyo!

III. Met Sato-san, the Taiko drum store owner and fabulously kind man.
1. With Moko's help, shopped for and bought a flat drum and rope drum.
2. Discussed packing, shipping, customs, etc.
3. Was given 3 pairs of sticks.
4. Sato-san will kindly deliver drums and stands Monday.

IV. Hiroko-san's house for lunch.
1. My first invitation to a Japanese person's house for a meal.
2. Rode scooter again!
3. Presented banana bread. (still warm)
4. Wonderful meal, carefully prepared, and totemo oyshii.
5. After lunch, retired to basement and played marimbas one more time!
6. Goodbye to Hiroko-san.

V. Rode Scooter again!
1. Said goodbye to Moko. *Snif*

VI. Gave voice lesson, said another goodbye.

VII. Collected stuff from rehearsal space
1. Goodbye to Jack.
2. Patty McManus, goddess of laughter.

VIII. Read book till sleep...y....nm;o'[zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Sayonaras and favorite lines

A few of the more difficult Goodbyes

Yoyogi Park in all its' Rose Blooming Glory!



My dear friend Charlie and his cute little dog, Max



Friends from the American Club Women's Group



The wonderful Chiba International Singers

HERE'S THE SET UP FOR MY FAVORITE LINE FROM Oliver!:

So there's a moment in the show where Bill Sikes has nabbed Oliver after he had been sent out with books for Mr. Brownlowe...Bill grabs him and tells him,

"Say goodbye to your fancy living!"

Well, it's been ringing in my head, for that's what I am preparing to do. It all started LAST week at a Women's Group Sayonara party for me and 3 other gals who are leaving Tokyo. This week, I am sorting through closets, shelves and other hiding places and trying to weed out the clutter of 2 years in Tokyo. It's at these times I wish I were not such an unorganized slob.

There is a possibility that Robin will be able to move into a smaller apartment (hopefully with a cool view) for the remainder of the time he will be here. (14 months, BTW) So I am trying to be a good wife and clean out before that might happen. Besides, it's mostly MY clutter.

One of the interesting things involving moving and packing is the prioritizing of stuff. What stuff is important? What needs to come back this summer? What can wait a year? What am I attached to? What will continue to make this feel like home after we all leave and Robin is here alone? He says he doesn't care if he has bare walls, but I would care if he had bare walls. So it's a dance, but one that should be restricted to 500 pounds. That's our "weight limit." Not going to make it under, I suspect. And then there's that moment when the moving company representative looks you in the eye and says, "And we'll need a total replacement cost estimate, in case the air shipment goes down and everything is lost." Ummmm...How can I possibly figure that out? Most of my clothes are older than 5 years. (Is that something I should be freely admitting, here?) Actually, it would be a little upsetting, but really, it wouldn't matter. It's just stuff. Replaceable stuff. Stuff I can do without. Stuff I'd probably be better off without, really. The last 2 summers of packing, unpacking, moving into the house, moving out of the house, making friends, and leaving friends has taught me that stuff doesn't matter. People matter.

I said some goodbyes last night at a place called "The Pink Cow." I went to hear The Sunshine Prophets, a group that includes 2 friends from Oliver! They sang songs from the 60's like "Monday, Monday," "Feelin' Groovy," and "I've got You Babe." It was nice to hear them, and it gave me an opportunity to say goodbye to some folks. This past weekend was to be the weekend of goodbyes, but 2 parties were canceled and I spent it mostly in solitude. This week Robin is on a trip. So now I am looking forward, not backward. I am getting antsy to be back. My boys are all home, my pets await re-claiming, my yard needs mowing, my gardens need attention, my friends who have been so wonderful to my family need thanking...

I will be leaving some serious quiet and plunging head first back into my life of mother to three wonderful young men. It will be a fun, noisy, busy, dog-hair and music-filled summer in my 120 year old farm house. I'll take that over fancy living ANY DAY.

Insanely non-sensical English

So today I was sitting on the train on the way to one of my last Taiko classes and I saw something absurd.
There was a guy, standing near me on the train with a huge buttoned pocket across the seat of his pants. I've only ever seen trap door type bottoms on long johns. (long underwear) But across the big butt pocket were 3 lines of English. I admit I was staring at this man's tush. I couldn't help it. I was trying desperately to figure out what it said, and then concentrated equally hard on what it MEANT.
It went like this:

"NAUGHTY BUY" (At first I though it was boy, butt after much staring, it clearly said BUY)

"let's play with me" (okay, so this guy likes to buy naughty and wants to be played with...)

"GRASS HITHER" (??)

Grass Hither? Grass hither?
grass hit her? gr ass hither?
This is something I've never heard of before. I just did a google search for "Grass Hither" expecting not to find anything, but LO AND BEHOLD, a web site in Japanese popped up. They sell clothing items. Go figure. It caused me great amusement, and by the time I stepped off the train (he stepped off in front of me) I was practically laughing out loud. There goes that crazy gaijin lady again!

A question...

So...help me understand this please. The people who felt compelled to shoot and kill Dr. George Tiller as he was entering his place of worship are "Pro Life?" This is insane.

There are too many souls on this planet- already born who are suffering from the ravages of war, disease and hunger. If only the people who are fixated on the un-born would commit their energies to solving the troubles of those already here, the world would be a better place.

I wish for peace and comfort for Dr. Tiller's grieving family and friends. I hope justice is swift and appropriate.