Saturday, November 23, 2013

Hidden Messages

Still suffering from jet lag, I've been doing a lot of online reading between 3:00 and 6:00 a.m. every day this week. Three Facebook friends had posted this link, Parent a Pressures Gay Son to Change, which I read this morning. But it was not the main theme that caught my eye. It was the subtext that the parent forgot the son's birthday.

Who does that? What parent has such a busy, all-consuming life that she can forget her child's birthday? Oh, wait. Mine. She forgets (or ignores) my birthday and those of my sons and my grandchildren–who, by the way are her only grandchildren and only great-grandchildren. Whenever I might get her on the phone (she is incapable of picking up the phone to call me), she has no curiosity about my life or the lives of my offspring.

Don't bother to take her side and remind me she's 100 years old. This behavior has been in place for 25 years!

Here's what caught my eye:

When you “forget” a child’s birthday, you are basically negating him as a person. It is as if you are saying that you have forgotten his presence in the world. How very sad for him.

Without knowing for sure, I have long suspected that my daddy was the main instigator behind the decision to adopt a baby girl, who just happened to be me. I believe Mother went along, then found out I wasn't what she bargained for.

She told me once, 16-or-so years after the fact, "When you were fourteen I didn't know what to do with you, so I just washed my hands of you." Really? From what parenting book did you learn that technique?

My spousal equivalent has been telling me for several years–since he first met her–that I need to accept the fact that my mother just doesn't love me. Or, really, doesn't even like me.

Slowly, with enough reinforcement, that fact will sink in. With the support of my children and my friends, who love me, I can readjust my world view.

But that doesn't make it right.

Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Where in the World ...

If you and I are Facebook friends, you know I'm just back from a Big Adventure. If not, then let me tell you that explains why I haven't posted anything here in a while.

I've just been chided encouraged by a dear friend to get back to this blog, so here's a quick update.

The Cleveland Orchestra Chorus was invited to go on tour with the Cleveland Orchestra. We prepared the Beethoven Mass in C Major for six performances: two in Cleveland's Severance Hall (Oct. 31 and Nov. 2), followed by one each in Avery Fisher Hall in Lincoln Center (NYC, Nov. 4), Alte Oper in Frankfurt, Germany (Nov. 10), Salle Pleyel in Paris, France (Nov. 11), and Philharmonie Luxembourg (Nov. 14). The photo above was taken at the Philharmonie. I'm in the back row of the chorus and am the rightmost woman.

Everywhere we went, the audiences loved us. I felt tremendously honored to be in the company of all these talented musicians. Both the rehearsals and perforamnces were very hard work, and completely rewarding to have accomplished these goals.

I stayed an extra two days in Brussels, Belgium, returning to Ohio on Sunday, November 17.

I'm slowly recovering from the jet lag. The Jazzman is currently working a job where his weekend is Sunday and Monday. Yesterday I just hung with him, going to lunch and running errands. Last night I fell asleep too early and consequently woke too early this morning, but had an 8:00 a.m. nap, and am now at the computer, offloading photos from my Nikon, my iPad, and my iPhone.

A travelogue blog post is being written and will appear shortly at this address.

And I promise to be more committed to this blog.

Thanks for visiting.