Posts Tagged Under Dawn Yun
Footprints
It has been more than a week since my brother-in-law, David, suddenly passed away.
I can’t stop thinking about him.
I see him in the coffin — talk about a bad make-up job. Where do these people learn that skill? Or better, where CAN they learn that it is a skill? When my stepfather died he was so overly made-up that he looked transgender. I make no judgements, but I knew him — this was a man who admired John Wayne and would not have minded going out looking like him instead of the lead character from “Hairspray.”
I joke, because so did David. He was one of the happiest people I have ever met. His body in repose was in contrast to the smiling picture that stood beside him. He was so alive in that photo. So lifeless in that box.
By adminHow Do I Tell My Child?
Last night was Mimi’s big ballet performance at the Civic Center. She was a cowgirl who carried a bucket. A spear, a bucket — a kid has to start somewhere.
She was excited because she would get to take a bow at the end, awash in audience applause. When she was in “The Nutcracker” in December, for some reason, children in the first act were not allowed to take a bow at the end. She felt gypped. This time, she would feel the love.
My husband, John, and myself, sat in the audience, watching each group of dancers. Every so often I would put my hand on his knee and ask if he was alright. He said yes. I watched, but my thoughts were elsewhere. Jay, our son, had already been told.
By adminLess is More
It was Valentine’s Day and I dragged home my cards in a paper bag, as my brother, Russell, did his.
We dumped them on the table to show my mother. My brother must have gotten thirty of them! I think I received maybe eight, and started crying.
“I got more than you did! I got more than you did!” Russell taunted before he left, probably to annoy the dog.
By adminFabulous!
After making my daughter breakfast, Fruity Pebbles and soy milk, I laid on the couch in the fetal position wracked with ulcer pain.
This was not at all noticed by Mimi. She asked if I could play her “High School Musical” CD.
“You want me. . . to get up?”
By adminHaircut
I had spent a good part of my day doing the thing I enjoy least – cleaning. This meant I was not spending time with my daughter. She noticed.
“Mommy come see what I drew.’
“In a minute,” I said repeatedly. Mimi came into my bedroom. I heard her words before I saw what she had done.
By adminMeditation
When I was 16 a group of friends and I decided we would learn to meditate. I wanted to do it, but was a bit hesitant. There was a pair of Frye boots that cost the same as learning to practice Transcendental Meditation, the hottest new thing.
I let the choice simmer, deciding that the boots would last two seasons at most. Meditation a lifetime.
We had to bring flowers, an offering. I took some from my mother’s garden. My friends and I each went into a room and young man who could have been my parents’ accountant, smiled beatifically. I bit my lower lip so I wouldn’t laugh as he chanted, something I had never heard before.
By adminCool Boys!
We were at the checkout-counter when my daughter, Mimi, spotted something she wanted.
“Look! It’s the Jonas Brothers!!! Can I have the magazine, please, please, please?”
The Jonas Brothers are three siblings ages fifteen to eighteen that are one of the hottest boy bands on the planet. Mimi has watched them on TV and she saw them on the “Hannah Montana” movie.
Her request brought back a flood of memories. When I was a tween I would buy “16 Magazine” every month because it featured cute posters of boy musicians and TV stars. I remember the editor’s name, Gloria Stavers. I already knew then that I wanted to be a writer. I would read each word carefully.
By adminLate
No matter how early I get up, I’m always late in bringing my daughter to school.
After spending a couple of hours at my desk writing in the morning, one would think that this initial sense of accomplishment would propel me to ensure that I would succeed in getting my daughter out the door, in the car and into her classroom on time.
It doesn’t.
It seems like there is always something. And that something always seems to come during the last, critical five minutes before school departure. My five-year old will suddenly have to go to the bathroom; need me to admire her output; wipe her bottom; want a different breakfast; have a stain that can’t be hidden; can’t find a sock; doesn’t like her shoes; hasn’t brushed her teeth; asks if she has to go to aftercare; cries that she has to go to aftercare; wants to have a spirited discussion on why she has to go to school at all.
By adminOld Friend
The clinical medical trial I was in for a year and a half, 18 months, 540 nights (not to mention monthly and bi-monthly visits) – was finally over.
It was the holidays and I was not going back East to visit family because I can’t handle the cold. But I missed my roots.
Spontaneously, I thought of a friend who I heard had moved nearby. In the summer she had invited me through Evite to a party at her new house, but I had a friend visiting from out-of-state who didn’t want to go so we ended up not.
By adminTime to Begin
My office was once my sanctuary.
It was pristine. Every paper in it’s place. I knew just where to reach to get exactly what I wanted.
Now when I reach for something — I have no idea what I will get. Nor, do I really want to know.
At one point I shared my office with my stepson and my daughter. Now my stepson has his own computer and desk in his room. That leaves Mimi downstairs in my office, er, make that HER office.
By admin