4 posts tagged “mom”
I'm now back in Paris, having arrived Sunday morning. And it's so hard.
My mom had a major stroke, with no warning. Five weeks beforehand we were hiking over waterfalls in Morocco, and now . . . I don't want to be too specific, as my mom is a very private person, so I'll just say that she's making progress, but it's slow, as apparently most strokes are. My mom is young and healthy, so we're hoping she'll make a full recovery, and she's in one of the best rehab clinics in the country. The problem is she's been there almost a month now, and she desperately wants to go home.
My trip to New York was originally going to be just over two weeks, and I extended it to four. Most of that time was spent at the hospital, from 3 to 8 hours a day. I was able to see most of my friends (Jeff and Josh, you're up first next time!), which was fantastic. I really felt supported and loved by all my friends who made time to see me, planned special events near the hospital so I could attend, and sent their love and prayers to room 110A. Every bit helped, so thank you all.
My trip was obviously not the vacation I was expecting it to be. Passover, instead of the elaborate, hours-long meal it normally is, was different but no less meaningful this year. We read the prayers and sang the songs and drank grape juice next to my mom's hospital bed. As the youngest, I sang the Four Questions and made everyone listen to me sing Chad Gadya in Aramaic. I really love that song. I got my hair cut, and went shopping at Old Navy, and attended my 10-year high school reunion (pics to come!), but my mind was always with my mom.
Making the decision to come back was really hard. And leaving her that day to go to the airport was one of the hardest things I've ever done, if not the hardest. My mom is my best friend, and I love her so much. I am truly blessed to have such a wonderful relationship with her, and to know that we love and respect each other both as mother and daughter, and as two women who can make each other laugh.
I talked to a lot of people about what to do: my therapist, my mom's friends, her doctors, my friends . . . and everyone told me that I have to continue my life. And my life is in Paris, as crazy and random as that may be. My dad actually flat out told me that I couldn't stay by saying, "I won't have your life turn into a Victorian novel, with you as the spinster who gives up her life to take care of her ailing mother!" To which I replied, "I'm only 28! I'm hardly a spinster."
Living at home with my dad, just the two of us, was really good. We had just spent a lot of time together in January, obviously, but I think it was important for both of us to have someone to say goodnight to. And to share dog-walking responsibilities! I swear, Teddy is the cutest thing in the world, and kept us both laughing every day. Look at my little muffinhead!
My sister and I worked very well together, sharing the jobs that come with a sick family member, while dad took care of insurance, doctors, and paperwork. Mom was never alone, due to our constantly emailing schedules back and forth. We alternated nights, so that each of us could get some time with our friends, and dad filled in when we both had plans. And now I left it all to them, and I feel so incredibly guilty.
I call a few times a day, but mom has up to six hours of rehab therapy every day, and in between she tries to grab naps. So even when I'm able to get hold of her, we can only talk for a few minutes. And I miss her terribly.
How do I do this? How do I just continue on with my life here, knowing that dad and Tessa are still at the hospital daily? How do I leave my mom to battle this without me? If anyone has advice, I could really use it right about now.
The past few days with my mom have been fantastic. We've had some amazing meals at my friends' houses, visited three small museums (I recommend the Musée Jacquemart André, but not the Musée Maillol), walked all over Paris, and I think my mom got to see a (non-touristy) side of Paris. She complained that she hadn't seen the Seine in 3 days, so we walked over a bridge. It's funny to realize that my life here is just not really geared at the touristy spots anymore. I go days without going to the Left Bank, since both my apartment and job are Right Bank.
So I know I've been talking about this for ages, but I'm leaving tomorrow for Morocco. I'm assuming that I'll have some internet access in the riads, but I don't plan on spending my time there blogging, so I'm saying salaam alaykam until March 6th.
Until then, me and mom will be getting very clean, just like these ladies.
Seeing as how I'm leaving tomorrow for my April vacation in Italy, I figured I should finally write about my February vacation in Spain. So here's the 4 days I spent in Barcelona with my mom. She completely spoiled me with cabs and (way too many) good meals, not to mention staying in a nice hotel as opposed to a scuzzy hostel.
Arriving on Sunday afternoon, we walked down Las Ramblas before a typical Spanish siesta. We had dinner at a really good tapas place. We ordered way too much food and wine, and proceeded to eat it all. The very funny waiter told us that we had red faces from all the booze! We were sitting in a window seat, and a man stopped on the sidewalk, gave me a thumbs-up and kissed his fingers at my beauty. My mom pointed out that with the amount of cleave I was showing this was not surprising.
Here's a funny door knocker that reminded me of the intercom face in Venice:
Monday was my 27th birthday, and it was beautiful out. We visited the Sagrada Familia. I can't wait to see it one day when it's finished. Right now it's probably the world's coolest construction site.
The birthday girl:
After a special birthday siesta, we had dinner at Roig Robi, a fancy Catalan restaurant. I had delicious rice with the most expensive prawns ever, but I have to say it was worth it.
Tuesday, after a bit of shopping at a famous espadrille store, we walked to Santa Maria del Mar which was breathtaking. Something about the simplicity of the lines and the proportions of the space really moved me.
We went to the Music Palace but couldn't get inside, so hopped in a cab to Casa Battlo. It is very expensive (something ridiculous like 12 euros entry) but I have to say it's definitely worth the money, if only for the hilarious audioguide. The man on the guide kept announcing that everything we were seeing was the most amazing thing ever. As in, "the fireplace in front of you is the most inventive fireplace in the world" or "you have never seen a room as beautiful as this one" or "Gaudi is an unparalelled genius." He was so over-the-top and British it was hilarious. Besides the audioguide, the house is really gorgeous. It's all curvy and under-water-y.
We walked back to the hotel before collapsing for an hour or two. My mom and I definitely got into the whole siesta thing. I think it was this day that around 9:30 at night we looked at each other and said, "should we think about going to dinner now?" In Spain everyone eats so late, and it worked for us.
Wednesday was dominated by a cooking class. We had a guided tour of La Boqueria by our chef for the day, Ignatius. There was an incredibly annoying know-it-all couple from Chicago with us. The guy, who never blinked, was the kind of man who says "Gesundheit" when someone sneezes. Thank god another 27-year-old New Yorker girl showed up! Sarah and I helped ourselves to the wine and realized around 4 pm that we were drunk. Oops. She and I were in charge of the tomato soup with cheese and nut/parsley/oil mush. See us working:
Our finished product, with a smiling Ignatius:
We attempted to go hear live music, but got to the venue just as the set was over. So instead we accepted that our time in Barcelona was food-focused, rather than party-focused, and slept off the meal.
Thursday was our last full day in Barcelona, and we decided to forego the hotel breakfast and try Pinotxo, a stand at the Boqueria. It was so good we regretted not going there every day. We had ordered boring tortillas and then noticed all these amazing dishes around us, so got a plate of chickpeas with balsamic mist and olive oil. Matt, that is one you have to make for me!
I took tons of pictures of the food, preparing to make a sort of fresh produce series. We headed up to the Miro Museum and then tried to do some shopping but honestly all of the stuff was ugly so we gave up. Since my mom and I can ALWAYS find room for more food, we stopped at this nice cafe whose name I forget and I ate an obscene amount of prosciutto on croissants. But I had a Diet Coke, so it's okay.
Dinner that night could obviously not compare to our previous meals, so I won't even mention it. But the pianist was hilarious. He kept playing these super-cheesy songs, like "Killing Me Softly," "Lara's Theme," and "Imagine." It was a little sad, actually.
On Friday we headed for the airport together, mom to fly to Paris and connect to New York, and me to continue on alone to Madrid. Saying goodbye sucked, since I knew I wouldn't see her again until May 30th, more than 3 months away. But on a happy note, here's my favorite quote of the whole trip:
me: So, tell me how wonderful I am to travel with.
mom: Well, you're fun. Except when you're not.
Next up is my time in Madrid. Stay tuned to see if I can get it done before leaving for Tuscany.
I've been in a bit of a funk for the past few days, and I wasn't sure why. I haven't been very motivated to go out or make plans. At first I chalked it up to the fact that I am preparing for the upcoming month, which is going to be a bit nuts. I'll have two friends visiting (Pammy and Adriana) and my mom, and I'll spend 14 days out of 15 traveling, starting on the 18th. That's a lot.
But I don't think it was just preemptive nesting. I've realized that I'm homesick. I think it took so long to identify because I haven't felt this way since I was a kid, being tortured at jappy summer camps. It's not that I want to move home at all, just that I wish I had decided to go back to New York for February vacation instead of staying here. I want to see my friends and my dog and get a facial and eat some of that yummy potato salad at Key Foods. And then I want to come back to Paris.
If I stay next year, I'll definitely plan to go to New York for my birthday. I guess making it almost five months before homesickness sets in is not too bad. And my mom is coming in six days, so I think that'll really help matters.
Until she gets here I have a bunch of fun stuff planned, including a concert tomorrow night, my return to physical exercise tonight, cooking lessons with Anna, and showing Adriana around Paris. I just need to make it to Wednesday, and my mom's snuggles, and I'll be fine.
