At a time

Guess what I did on Thursday? I attended a Zoom high school reunion. I graduated from high school 37 years years ago. What. The. F.

COVID has some unintended positive consequences, I suppose. We are all in our mid-50s now, that certain demographic. We have been faced lately with our mortality. We know of people we went to school with who have passed. We have kids in our 20s. Some of us are talking retirement – or already retired and getting bored. We are middle -aged. Yeah, I said it. It feels weird – in my head I feel 18 (and that’s super-weird because I have a 20 year old) … but as my old friend said she does too, until she’s been sitting too long and it aches to move.

We were on the call for almost 2 hours. Each of us had our stories, trying to cram almost 40 years into a 5 minute sound byte. After high school – college/university? Work? Marriage? Re-Marriage? Kids? Kids getting married? No grand babies yet, but grand fur babies. Some of us were late starters who still have teenagers – or younger (there goes freedom 55!) Some of us working and not thinking about retirement because honestly – we are still young.

The gossip – oh the gossip. Does anyone still keep in touch with so and so? Who’s where with whom now? I started it off right off the bat with full disclosure. I did not marry the guy I was attached to at the hip for my last three years in high school. That got a laugh – elephant in the room. Some of these guys are still friends with that fellow. One of them texted him during our call to say that we all said “Hi” including me. Funny, not awkward. It happens. I’m always surprised when I hear of couples who last after being high school sweethearts.

I have good memories of high school. And from our conversation, it appears that I was not alone. We had great friends, really wonderful teachers who were committed to us as students and there was a real sense of community. Everyone’s done pretty well – there wasn’t enough time to get into all the serious stuff which I know we have all been through. But it was a happy call. My cheeks were aching from all the smiling and laughter. It was fun.

We didn’t fit into all the typical high school roles that Hollywood often depicts. We all seemed to socialize across the various “tribes”. But we acknowledged that we were lucky. We would talk to each other on Monday.

Did you know that a certain young actor, grew up to be a director and a writer? And he’s good. I read his book on his travels years ago and realized that the sensitive guy he appears to be in many of the parts he’s played, comes from within. As if I wasn’t already mad crushing …

To be published May 2021.

Kamala Harris is fulfilling not only the dream of many young women but her destiny as only her mother would know. When she gave tribute to her mother in her speech this past weekend, with the proud smile on her face, I wonder if there wasn’t some tiny regret that her mom was not here to witness this momentous day. She likely felt the strength of her spirit as she walked up to the podium.

Like Kamala, I share an admiration for my mother and what she has accomplished. I also have roots in Montreal; my mother was an immigrant to Canada, who came here to further her education and happened to meet her husband here. Her parents thought she should be a nun, while she dreamed of being a nurse. Unbeknownst to her parents, she saved her money, planned with a friend with the help of her friend’s father, to leave home for an education. She convinced her parents eventually, and at 18 years of age, travelled from Hong Kong to England. Then on to Boston and before landing in Montreal. As a trained midwife and labor and delivery nurse, she wanted a career during a time when many women were focused on marriage and family. My mother never stopped working even after she and my father started a family. My sister and I were given so many opportunities to learn and grow as young girls (yes, mom was TIgermom -ish). She believed in us and encouraged us to be tough, independent, confident and smart. (My much younger brother has had an appreciation for strong women from a very young age!)

She has never been content with the one job – she took an interest in real estate and eventually worked as an agent part time as well. After she retired from nursing, she kept up with real estate. It became another career for her, with my Dad, they worked together as a retired couple until his death 11 years ago. Fiercely independent, she has carved out a new life on her own, new friends, new social circles, she is still our mama – still picking up toilet paper and groceries for us when she sees a sale! To this day – she just turned 83 – she still participates in a few real estate deals a year as she is still quick as a whip. She is active at church, she does dance and fitness classes (even pinch hit as the instructor every so often before Covid hit and everything became remote). Remember what I said? She is EIGHTY -THREE.

I remember a few years ago we did an exercise at work where we were asked to describe our hero. Without any hesitation I described my mother to my team. When I visited her a little while after that meeting, I told her that she was my hero. I’ve never seen my mother look so pleased. But what was even more surprising was what she said to me.

She told me she was so proud of me. A few years earlier, I had secured a promotion which she hadn’t really acknowledged beyond saying congrats. This time, she said it wasn’t so common for a VP to be a woman, especially a woman of colour. Now if you are Asian, you have to know that this is a big deal – your parents never tell you to your face that they are proud of you. They prefer to brag about you to their friends and complain about you to your siblings behind your back. I was flabbergasted, but told her how important that was to me.

I am so lucky that we had that conversation. I treasure that moment in time, at a Tim Horton’s parking lot of all places, after having a coffee. I am blessed that mom is still alive and well – so full of wisdom and wit, and love and pride for me that she is willing to share.

Well wow, after some excruciating days, truth and democracy prevails… Kamala Harris a shining star, Joe Biden a class act to move things in the right direction. Some wonderful speeches that inspired, celebrated diversity, and unity. Decent people. What a concept.

Before there was writing, there was reading. In my earliest memories of kindergarten, I was sitting in the corner on my own reading, while other kids were playing. I couldn’t yet speak English (although born in Montreal, I only spoke Cantonese until I started school). But I loved reading quietly to myself.

Nowadays reading has become a luxury. I have been lucky to be part of a book club with my neighborhood friends – we’ve been meeting monthly for about a decade now. I’ve come to rely on those get togethers as meetings of a sisterhood of course, but also to keep me accountable to my reading challenge. Reading is learning, reading is growth, reading challenges my assumptions and makes me think. And boy oh boy, 2020 has provided a lot of opportunity to think. Unfortunately the pandemic happened, is still happening, and we have not physically met for book club in over 6 months. With work going on overload, my reading has taken a back seat.

But when you set your mind to it, guess what – it is possible! In October I read 5, FIVE books:

(excuse my crappy images, I am writing on my iPad, still trying to figure out WORDPRESS as a platform, and I am the least techy OG blogger that I know).

Each was wonderful in its own way. But each was also very sad, with even the “happiest” offering, opening with the main character’s suicide. I loved “Midnight LIbrary” so much that I tweeted at the author, Matt Haig – and he replied – how cool is that? How cool is he?

The one that is really sticking with me, though, is “Coming up for Air”. Check out my review on Goodreads if you want to know more …

Full disclosure -I watch “The Bachelorette “ . I’m not a regular fan, I tend to skip a season here and there. It’s formulaic, silly, a distraction in these upside down times.

What a concept – here is a girl, given a pick of a couple dozen “bachelors”, they have cocktail parties, go on exotic dates, group and one-on-one “chats” where they get to know each other on a much deeper level, make out a lot, and through elimination over a number of weeks, (who will get a rose, he should get a rose, come’on I can’t believe didn’t get a rose, how could she not choose him?!) they narrow it down to a final two, she makes the excruciating decision and the guy ultimately gives her a honkin’ Diamond ring (which she can hang on to if they stay together at least a year). A normal process, always leads to true love and marriage right?

This season was going to be THE season, the most mature bachelorette ever (at the age of 39) … the guys ranging in age from 29 -39, which in all honesty is not such a bad thing, given the stats (and my 83 year old mother’s estimation, the husband SHOULD be younger than the wife, when you see all the lone widows around her, but I digress…). This was gonna be good.

But guess what? The bachelorette promptly went and fell in love on the first night, having some weird cosmic connection, she could not stop going on and on about him, how she had met her husband, sneaking away to have time with this guy any chance she got. There was drama from the other guys, what the heck was going on, could this really be happening, and on and on. So the season that was supposed to be “mind blowing” – was so disappointing, honestly. I was getting so annoyed with our heroine, gushing over this fellow, falling in love at first sight, rather embarrassed for her. Love isn’t a Harlequin romance (I gave those books up at 14).

Now I wonder though, if I am just being so judgey. An old judgey woman? I am one of the lucky ones, I met my husband when I was young, we’ve been together forever. We can almost finish each other’s sentences, each other’s thoughts. And we watch this show – TOGETHER. We laugh about it, and he tells me he gets a kick out of my reactions and what I chirp out at the TV because I’m such a crackup you know. I don’t know what I’d be like at 39 after a series of broken relationships, still looking for my elusive soulmate.

Why shouldn’t we believe in love, that it can be this quick connection that can last a lifetime? What about you, what’s your story?

An important day. I don’t post about politics but the importance of today makes not posting about THE election, seem remiss. Can’t ignore it, it is impacting our neighbours to the south, ourselves as Canadians, and the world. Most of my work colleagues are American, many of my internet friends are too.

It would be hard for me to work today, even being removed from it somewhat I have a bit of a pit in my stomach. I can’t imagine being so directly impacted.

Four years ago I posted “Mad World” by Tears for Fears. A great song even more prophetic than I could have known. Who knew what the subsequent period would look like? I hope my song selection this time will be decidedly different.

I posted some photos of Halloweens past on FB and IG yesterday, and to find them I went to my old blog. It was nice to scroll through the posts, strolling down memory lane. Back to my younger self, what I was thinking, experiencing, feeling (or what I felt comfortable sharing). Did I really write that? Was that me? A more innocent time for sure.

I want to write again. What am I thinking now? What am I experiencing now? Capturing what will be memories. Or random shit. Likely more of that. NaBloPoMo here we come…