distant, early morning
New skills and frustration thresholds
I'm learning how to make video screencasts. It's something I've wanted to do for a long time; and now I'm doing it.
Doing so has taught me that I'm no longer 25 with an endless threshold for failure. Frequent breaks are required.
But I will win, yes I bloody well will.
And... cussing while doing a screencast is inappropriate for professional reasons. I haven't saved the "out-takes" but maybe I ought to.
They frequently go something like, "And now type, 'craft.dev' into the fi.... well *INSERT LOUD CUSSING* and don't leave caps lock on now, kids.
It's all good, though. I learned with every failure; now to actually get something production quality together. Tomorrow is a new day; today I think I'll stick with something that isn't quite this new and shiny to me. *grins sheepishly*
-Lisa, 2013-05-09, Comment
The Memorial - I love you mom.
I am home now, from an event I'd never have imagined I'd have to participate in - especially so soon.
Mom's memorial was beautiful. A friend of the family read some passages in Hebrew - the Kaddish, and a few others.
I spoke next. I bawled, but I spoke up (after a reminder from the attendees). I took the pauses I needed. I'm told I spoke beautifully and eloquently.
I felt like a mess. My voice was rough, hollow with crying; I hadn't prepared and I felt disjointed and out of place. But apparently I was strong enough to get through it.
Dad spoke next - he did prepare. His speech was beautiful and moving.
And during his speech, I was moved to say more. When he was done, I ended the ceremony with a word about connections and fostering those connections.
Mom talked to people. It's something I often remarked on with some beffudlement. Mom would talk to grocers, cashiers, receptionists. Not just talk - she built friendships, relationships, rapport.
She was crazy, I said so tonight.
But she was loved.
We go through our lives interacting with others and dismissing them. Their value to our lives and ours to theirs is temporary, ephemeral, fleeting, and.. unimportant.
But mom - she didn't believe that. She built friendships in seconds, minutes at a time, not worrying if it would be a 5 minute friendship or a lifetime. We could be standing in line at the store and she would make new friends. I was the typical daughter, embarrassed and impatient. I feel ashamed of that now.
I should have been learning from her.
In the weeks since mom's death, hundreds of people - "online friends" have emailed their condolences and stories. Mom had friends for decades that she never, ever met, but who valued her and who she valued and loved - and that love, caring, and acceptance was felt by those people.
At the reception, people showed up, cried, and loved her.
Mom had her issues. She was anxious, stressed, high strung. But dad said something in the memorial that resonated with me - when mom did something, she did her best to do it right and do it well.
Mom loved.
She loved with all of heart and without reservation. She was vulnerable and open and caring. So she was anxious - but she loved. And she was loved in return.
Mom died at a fairly young age, in her early 60s. She died suddenly. She had gone through life with a myriad of health issues: brain surgery for a shunt, menairs disease, neurofibromatosis, breast cancer.... but she came through all of that with a song and a love for life and open-ness for the future.
She accepted people - and especially me - no matter what non-traditional choices, or traditional, they made. She accepted my family without question, and that alone is .... invaluable and immortal.
And she connected.... endlessly. She wanted to be heard - but she also wanted to hear. She wanted to be loved and she also loved.... deeply.
I can't think of a better legacy.
Thank you mom. I love you, and I miss you.
-Lisa, 2013-05-01, Comment
Discovering change...
I've been losing weight again.
I went shopping yesterday, with Lisa, for a black dress for mom's memorial. I haven't gone clothing shopping in a bit. Lisa recommended trying on a size 14.
3 years ago I was wearing a size 22. In the last few months I've dropped down from a size 18. Slow progress, but definitely progress.
Yesterday the size 14 dresses went on easily and fit well and comfortably.
I also got a pair of shoes - dropped 1/2 a size there too.
I still have a long journey ahead; but I'm at my lowest weight in... well a very long time, and my lowest dress size.
Then there's the part of me that's really sad that I'll never get to show off to mom and to see how happy she'd be. Selfish I suppose....
To fear death, my friends, is only to think ourselves wise, without being wise. For it is to think that we know what we do not know. For anything that men can tell, death may be the greatest good that can happen to them but they fear it as if they knew quite well that it was the greatest of evils. And what is this but that shameful ignorance of thinking that we know what we do not know?
-Socrates
-Lisa, 2013-04-25, Comment