A Pocket Is No Place For a Smile Anyway

Tags

family, fear, health, love, panic, parents, siblings, support, travel

Family is funny. Take mine for example. We are small and powerful and tend to overreact to most situations. We can bicker over politics and then laugh over drinks. We involve ourselves in each other’s business, whether we want to or not. And personally speaking, although being told what to do and not to do by siblings, parents, and even aunts and uncles can be frustrating at 35, it comes from the truest, most sincerest parts of all of our hearts; we care. We probably care too much.

This past week, I just wanted to see my parents. I wanted to catch up with them and just spend time. SPEND TIME. And we did just that.

My trip to Ireland a few weeks ago did not go as planned. I was traveling with my uncle who had two major health issues while we were there. The first was he was super sick–pneumonia sick. And the second was he collapsed on me twice in a Tesco in Killarney, and was rushed via ambulance to Kerry General Hospital in Tralee. I followed in the rental car for 30 minutes, debating whether I should call my parents. The only time I lost it in front of him (and fortunately, he was completely passed out) was when he collapsed, and I was screaming, yes screaming for someone to help me.

We were checking out and had water and crackers, and he looked at me, said he was dizzy, and that was it. He’s a big guy, and somehow I managed to catch him–sort of,

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Drawers of Other Summers where my Shadows Used to Be

Tags

Beck, concert, Counting Crows, parents, REM, stomach

Fort Mason Dog Park at sunset.

When I was a senior in high school, I bought tickets to see REM. I spent a good $40 of my money on a general admission ticket, and this was 17 years ago. My love affair with Michael Stipe and Peter Buck began on a plane somewhere between San Francisco and Salt Lake City. I was meeting my family for a ski trip in Utah, and I had the Out of Time cassette playing over and over in my yellow Walkman Sport, which was held together with a large blue rubber band.

There are still songs on that album that take me back to the simplicity that was freshman year of high school. My favorite album remains Murmur, and tracks 4,5 and 6 continue to be the holy trinity of the album to me: Talk About the Passion, Moral Kiosk, Perfect Circle. Three stoic songs plugging along so many years later.

Sadly, I didn’t get to go to the concert, and I was heartbroken. I was extremely sick with a stomach attack that still, 17 years later, remains unresolved. My mom wouldn’t let me go. She was never unreasonable, but I remember being nasty about it because I thought I could be. Low and behold, I ended up in the ER that night. My friends bought me a t-shirt with the money they made selling my ticket, and I realized, like usual, moms are always right.

I was supposed to see REM two years ago at the Bridge School Benefit, a