Parents, kids and the chasms

 As my kids get older (both in their mid-forties) I am unsure what my position is in their lives. More important, I am not sure what their position is in my life. They are my children, yes, but I can't refer to them as that. Children are small. These two people are grown-ups.  I can call them "my kids" and I do, but that's a misnomer as well. But what is the correct term for one's grown-up offspring?  There isn't one. Well, yes, you could say "progeny" or "descendants" or some such thing but no one does and those words aren't what I am looking for.

But I digress. My grown-up progeny (!) certainly don't need a parent now and I don't need to be a parent either. (Although I am sure I mother my kids more than I suspect. My daughter will call me on it now and then. My son is too discreet to do so unless I specifically ask.)  So how does one define one's relationship to one's grown children at this point in one's life?  (Too many one's there, but whatever.)

It's a good bet that my kids still see me as their parent because why wouldn't they?  It's all I have been in their lives. However, while I am still their parent, I don't see myself in that role now. My role, to me, is a bit unclear, but they don't need a parent. That job was made redundant years ago. Do I even have a role and if so, what is it?

Herein lies the chasms. We have these children, we nurture them, protect them, teach them and love them unconditionally. There is no chasm.  As children, we (the parental figures) are their entire world and for a while they are ours as well. Eventually a small fissure occurs, usually when we take them to school or day care, some place other than their home. They are separated from us. Then comes the day when they are seriously in school, away from us for 6 - 8 hours a day. That's a huge split, one that causes sadness and pain for both the parent and the child. (The tiny relief and joy that parents feel when the kids are off to school and thus not hounding us 6 - 8 hours a day is not relevant here. Just saying. And yes, learning occurs, but still, not relevant here.) 

The huge chasm comes when the child realizes that there is another world out there, one without Parental Figures. This usually happens around the age of 11-14, perhaps earlier these days. Once the kid is in middle school and definitely in high school, that chasm is huge. The child needs independence.  The parent doesn't know how to deal with this.  The child wins, of course, because the parent knows that's the point of being a parent and the point of being a child: leaving the nest/home/safety. So the parent needs to let go. Or make a valiant attempt to do so.

The chasm is the distance the child needs to become a real person. (Note that I am not saying "adult" because a lot of adults are not real people.) The separation is the point. The chasm is the point. We, the parents, do not need to like it but unless we are idiots we always knew it would happen and we must accept it. 

So now, the dilemma: we made these children with the clear intent that they would leave us and become new, whole people but .... now what?  Their role is clear: go out and get a life.  What's ours now? Yes, sometimes they come back and start over but eventually they are gone from our loving and happy home grasp and what is our job at that point regarding these adult children, kids, progeny?

It is clear that this is a topic I should have addressed 20 years ago. And I probably did. But now I see my adult kids and other than teaching them my skills at making pasta carbonara or giving them my recommendations about books to read, wines to drink, TV stuff to watch, my job is pretty much done. Well, it's not pretty much... it is done. They are whole people, they do not need a parent. They can both make a very good carbonara (I am still the best at that) and they have their own tastes in books and music and movies. Thankfully so. 

Do they need me? Perhaps, but for what?  At least I know they like me enough to want to hang out now and then.  Is that a need or a want?  Hopefully a want.

I am still figuring this relationship stuff out, as is obvious.  There is more to say here. I will report back.  Thank you for reading. 

Sensorio "Field of Lights" Display in Paso Robles

 In March 2020, which seems like years ago, about a week before California shut down because of Covid, I visited the Sensorio show in Paso Robles. The New York Times had a one page feature about it in their "50 Places to Visit in 2020" and it was too intriguing to pass up.  It was one of the most beautiful and amazing installations I have ever seen.  Shortly after I was there, it shut down for a year, just reopening April 2021.

When I read that it was opening again, I coerced my brother John and his wife Emily to meet me in Paso Robles and see the show. They were a tiny bit reluctant: "A light show? Really?"  But because they love me, they were willing to indulge my need to see it again, and see it with them.  Which we did, last night.

It didn't disappoint, not them seeing it for the first time or me, seeing it again. More than 58,000 solar powered fiber optic stemmed spheres cover more than 15 acres and they change colors as the night progresses. Guests walk along wide paths to view the lights, and you can stay as long as you like. We got there just as the sun was setting and just as the lights were coming on.

After 30-40 minutes, as the sky darkened, the brilliance of the lights was stunning.  One takes way more photos than necessary and eventually you simply stand and look and appreciate the beauty. The interplay between nature and technology is spot-on.

Plus, if you wiggle your camera, you get great pictures like these:

Such incredible technology and what a show!  It's there until the end of this year. Paso Robles is a three hour drive from SF and there are plenty of hotels. The tickets are not cheap (but less than $50) and worth every penny.  Go see it.

Swimming in Cold Water

 In mid-May I started getting into the pool here at my little cottage property, kicking around, getting a little exercise every afternoon.  The water was hovering around 70 then, just beginning to heat up after the winter.  After a couple of weeks I bought some sturdy Styrofoam water "weights" for more resistance and it was a daily ritual: around 4:15 to the pool I would go for about 30 minutes. I enjoyed every minute. 

The spring became summer and the water got warmer until it was around 80 degrees in July. My preference is when it is about 76-78, but I certainly wasn't going to argue with 80. Refreshing and so good for the soul and the body. 

But as we all know, summer fades, autumn comes sneaking in, the sun is lower in the sky. Even if the days stay hot, the nights are cooler and the pool gets less direct sun and the temperature falls. However, I was determined to continue my daily swim for as long as possible, so in I went, every day I was home, at 4:15.

Yesterday the water temp was around 61.  That's a far cry from 76 and there's no denying that it is a bit of a shock when I first get into the pool. l give myself about 60 seconds to slowly walk down the steps and get up to my belly in cold water, then I just plunge in. (Keeping my head above water, of course.) I grab my weights, start moving as quickly as possible and within a few minutes it feels pretty good! Bracing.  Invigorating.  Cold.  Alive.

Next week I will be gone from home all week and I am already missing my cold swimming. I fear that when I return home, October 28, the water will be far too cold for me.  I hope not. I will bravely make an attempt to continue my cold water challenge as long as possible. 

It seems that swimming in cold water has several health benefits: great for circulation, produces endorphins, good for your skin, helps burn calories. People worldwide swim in cold water and have been for centuries, much colder than a pool in Sonoma County, obviously. Since this is a new endeavor for me, I don't know at what temp the water will be too cold for comfort. The Pacific Ocean drops down to close to 50 degrees in the winter and folks still swim in it, so we'll see what my tolerance will be. All I know is that I will miss getting into that pool every day.

GIANTS! DODGERS! GREAT BASEBALL!!!

If you are a baseball fan, you know that this meeting of the Giants and the Dodgers is historic.  If you are a Giant or a Dodger fan, it's a lot more than that: it's epic.  Yes, we have seen the two teams battle in regular season games but this is the playoffs, folks.  This is huge.

And what baseball it is!  The amazing plays, the hits, the stellar pitching (yes, Dodger pitching is nailing it) and the excitement you can feel even through the TV screen. At this point in post-season one would expect to see great hitting, fielding, pitching and we are certainly getting that. It's a thing of beauty to see.

And there's the rub: the "seeing" part of this equation. The first two games I watched at Jenn and Dar's house, the third game I listened to on the radio and the fourth I saw at Steve's.  But tonight, what to do? In the past, in the Before Times, I would have gone to my local bar, ordered a dark beer and fish and chips and hung out for most of the game with other baseball aficionados.  But we don't do that much anymore because of the dreaded virus and its mutant cousins. So finding a place to watch this all-important final fifth game is going to be tricky.  I could probably plead and beg Steve to let me come over for a couple of innings (he is not the fan I am) or I can simply listen to it. But I think I will see if one of the local restaurants has it on in the bar.... maybe later in the game so it might not be so crowded.  Not sure yet.

No matter what, I will be tuned in tonight in some fashion.  GO GIANTS!!!!

Third Shot and You're Out!

 Got my third shot of the Pfizer vaccine along with a flu shot. One in each arm. There was no adverse effect from either of the first two Pfizer vaccinations but this third one has knocked me out. Major chills in the middle of the night and today aches and fatigue and nausea. I expect it to be over and out by tomorrow but it took me by surprise.  Once you think you are invincible, something tells you that you are clearly not. But it's a small price to pay for keeping up with the antigens and antibodies and trying to keep my body safe.

In the end we are all going to kick the bucket but it would be nice to have another ten years of good health. I figure that by the time I reach 80 my body will be more creaky and more dilapidated, my mind more foggy and mildly disturbed and my psyche much crankier but also more tolerant.  Who knows? All we can do now is to try and avoid Covid, remove bad influences and concentrate on positivity and metaphysical stuff.  

Yeah, right. Who am I kidding? Pass me that whiskey bottle, partner, and let me be happy. 

Here I Am. I Am Here.

Those three small words, when arranged differently, have a whole different meaning.

On Wednesday I took a walk with a friend in Golden Gate Park. It had been years since I was on foot in the park and what a gift to have that in the middle of a crazy city. My walking companion was Donna, a friend and also my sister-in-law. We see each other now and then but this was the first time it was just the two of us, no brothers in sight. Donna has been one of my blog readers and was lamenting the fact that I stopped writing. My reasons, as I have previously stated, are based on the fact that I really have nothing to say. My life is small and simple and rather boring and who wants to read about that?  

But Donna nagged at me enough until I surrendered and said "OK, I will try again."  She reminded me that I have stated many times that it doesn't matter if anyone actually reads the blog, I write it for myself. It doesn't need to be profound or clever or even very interesting because who cares if anyone reads it; I write it for myself. To not write is to stop some kind of introspection, to stop attempting clarity and definition.  As Donna reminded me, even Joan Didion feels the same:  "I write entirely to find out what I'm thinking, what I'm looking at, what I see and what it means. What I want and what I fear." 

So here I am. Writing again. Trying to write again.

I am here.