Hello friends! Wow this was a hard week! But today, for me, has been good, and one of the good things was a brief, glancing, checkpoint-braving visit (at a distance) from my sister, making it the first time I’ve seen her unmediated by a screen in over a month, and as if that weren’t gift enough, she brought me a bunch of homemade cookies, and I spent the afternoon absolutely giddy with joy at having chatted with her from 6 feet away.
My dad died in November, but he had bought gifts for me and my sister and our kids, and his partner dropped them off at Christmas. He gave both Domini and me rainbow-themed ornaments, and he also gave me a rainbow sapphire necklace. After he died, we both ran face-first into the homophobia and transphobia of the extended family (we are both queer, and I am non-binary) and those gifts felt like such a clear reminder that no matter what the extended family may have felt, *he* always welcomed our queerness.
Also, probably even more meaningful, he wanted us to be there with him in his last week. Neither of us had an easy relationship with him, though it was different for each of us. But in the last week, he wanted us there. After years and years of distance and hurt, he let us in. It didn't erase what had happened earlier, but it was a really meaningful and important moment of connection - something I think we had both wanted for a long time. (I wrote about it here - https://tiffanysostar.com/trajectories/)
That's a gift I've been holding onto tightly as we go through this miserable period.
My wife got me a print of Little Red Riding Hood by the artist Becca Thorne. I sort of know Becca (I wrote a poem inspired by the Red Riding Hood piece years ago) so when she found out it was for me she sent the first numbered print. It’s a beautiful piece and is coveted it for so long. http://www.antlersgallery.com/artist/becca-thorne
My mother taught me how to say no. We would be driving somewhere, and she would say things like, "Kids, what do you say if a someone wants to kiss you and you don't want to? What do you say if someone wants to make you do something you don't like?" and make us say "NO!" out loud, practicing. I didn't realize what a gift the ability to say "no" was until I was an adult and began to witness my friends unravel lifetimes of people-pleasing and abuse, gingerly probing the nefarious kinds of hidden wounds you can receive when you feel guilty saying "no" or simply didn't know how to. Friends who were afraid to say no to their own mothers suffered emotional and physical injuries trying to please them. My mother is a gift, flaws and all, and she gave me a great gift in this.
I adore your socially distant selfie. It made me grin. :)
An experience that I keep thinking about happened last June. I went on a white water kayaking trip with an organization called First Descents. I made a ton of friends, challenged myself physically, and just got some amazing life experiences. I’ve stayed in contact with my friends from the trip, and this pandemic spurred us to finally have a zoom meeting and talk all together. It was lovely. And I’m about to start a tabletop roleplaying campaign with one of them next week (via zoom, of course). So, great experience. Lasting friendships. And we’re all still flourishing in the midst of all this covid stuff. :)
That's so exciting! Love a socially-distant family visit. :)
A couple weeks ago my best friend gave me the gift of relighting my creative fire. He wrote a gorgeous new EP and recorded all of the vocals live on facebook in one take (I was horrified by the bravery required for this) and challenged me to start creating again. I took a long time off writing music dealing with depression and being sick, and it's felt like I'd lost the spark/magic/whatever to write. Today I got to send him the finished instrumentals of my first new song in years. He gave me back a part of myself.
Both my favorite/most-beautiful-to-me gifts were from my sister (I love my entire family, but she's the only one who can successfully get gifts for me without having to ask me for suggestions). For Christmas a couple years ago, she drew me a picture of Wind in the Willows' Mr. Badger sitting in his armchair, and it is without exaggeration my favorite gift ever, just because without asking she knew my favorite-character-I'd-never-remember-to-list-as-a-favorite, and then took the effort to create the drawing for me. (https://www.instagram.com/p/BdIqu9tg0Tx/?igshid=1ip9ovnxucc0b)
A close second, though, was a year ago when she and I were both moving away (me to LA, her to grad school) and she told me to "Go have an adventure" then handed me a pendant of the hobbit door to Bag End. The pendant has pretty much lived in my coat pocket as a good luck charm ever since.
This has been a hard week. We had to surrender the dog we adopted last month. It just wasn't working with the Toddler in quarantine. I'm not really a dog person. That's spouse's thing, but it's still very sad. I'm struggling to come up with any recent gifts of joy for that reason.
Ok. This is also kind of sad, but it is recent and a gift and full of love:
My grandfather died at the beginning of the month. We couldn't go to the funeral for obvious reasons. This week I received a letter from one of my oldest friends expressing her sympathy. She enclosed two poems about grief. One of which was written by my grandfather. Apparently she bought his self-published book of poetry at some point in the past and copied this one down for me now. It was special and kind and I'll always keep it.
Hi Amal! I am so glad you got to see your sister! Hope you're continuing to do well, as well as possible under the circumstances.
I am doing ok and -- somehow -- writing a lot. The gift I most clearly remember is Lorraine taking me out for very fancy sushi for my birthday once. Somehow, I still remember that dinner, which is now several years ago!
I've spent a lot of time in the past in a long distance relationship, so I think "unexpected (transatlantic!) visit" is up there. Also, to get even more abstract, when Slovenia was holding its referendum about EU membership, my parents gave their votes to my sister and I. Not a very exciting thing when you're 11, but in hindsight their trust & faith in us and /our/ future warms my heart.
Also one time someone drew fanart based on a fic I wrote. That was pretty cool.
It's been a week of gifts for me. Through the mail - took seven days to get to me - I got a care package from Ruth with loose leaf mint tea for me and treats for Ruby cat. Then, Meg showed up at my door out of the blue with muffins. And finally Grainne gave me her old phone which is years newer than the one I'd been using. We sat in the garden socially distanced, under the huge old cherry tree that has just gone into bloom and I shared with her the last of the muffins - banana chocolate chip sourdough, delicious - and the mint tea.
The real gift to me though has been love and care from my family of friends.
I just opened a letter from a friend. I was her replacement as the coordinator of the campus food pantry. We bonded over fountain pens and a love of public service while she was training me. I sent her a letter with the first words written by my new pen in a new ink. I got her reply a couple of days ago, and I opened it today (I dunno if the bit about the virus lasting only 24-ish hours on paper and cardboard has been disproven; I washed my hands after handling it anyway).
I could tell the paper was special when I first pulled it from the envelope. I've always been a stationery nerd. I used to make my own paper (and paper-making tools). The tactile sensation of this paper was phenomenal. She wrote that her grandfather was part of the manufacturing process for the cotton-fiber paper she used to write the letter, and that it was the last case of its kind when he gave it to her mother almost fifty years ago. She's been using it sparingly for letters ever since.
Not only did that story fill my heart on its own, but there's also a connection she doesn't even know about: my own grandfather was an engineer for the same paper company, though he worked in a different state. Her story led to reminiscing about my grandfather, who died when I was only eight years old, and the smell of the paper mill that suffused the town where he lived when I would visit as a kid.
I’m being given the gift of laughter by my spouse, my pets, and my co-workers on a regular basis and given the world, it’s seriously the most wonderful thing right now 💗💗
This was a brutally hard week. Agreed!!!
*content note for parental death*
My dad died in November, but he had bought gifts for me and my sister and our kids, and his partner dropped them off at Christmas. He gave both Domini and me rainbow-themed ornaments, and he also gave me a rainbow sapphire necklace. After he died, we both ran face-first into the homophobia and transphobia of the extended family (we are both queer, and I am non-binary) and those gifts felt like such a clear reminder that no matter what the extended family may have felt, *he* always welcomed our queerness.
Also, probably even more meaningful, he wanted us to be there with him in his last week. Neither of us had an easy relationship with him, though it was different for each of us. But in the last week, he wanted us there. After years and years of distance and hurt, he let us in. It didn't erase what had happened earlier, but it was a really meaningful and important moment of connection - something I think we had both wanted for a long time. (I wrote about it here - https://tiffanysostar.com/trajectories/)
That's a gift I've been holding onto tightly as we go through this miserable period.
My wife got me a print of Little Red Riding Hood by the artist Becca Thorne. I sort of know Becca (I wrote a poem inspired by the Red Riding Hood piece years ago) so when she found out it was for me she sent the first numbered print. It’s a beautiful piece and is coveted it for so long. http://www.antlersgallery.com/artist/becca-thorne
My mother taught me how to say no. We would be driving somewhere, and she would say things like, "Kids, what do you say if a someone wants to kiss you and you don't want to? What do you say if someone wants to make you do something you don't like?" and make us say "NO!" out loud, practicing. I didn't realize what a gift the ability to say "no" was until I was an adult and began to witness my friends unravel lifetimes of people-pleasing and abuse, gingerly probing the nefarious kinds of hidden wounds you can receive when you feel guilty saying "no" or simply didn't know how to. Friends who were afraid to say no to their own mothers suffered emotional and physical injuries trying to please them. My mother is a gift, flaws and all, and she gave me a great gift in this.
I adore your socially distant selfie. It made me grin. :)
An experience that I keep thinking about happened last June. I went on a white water kayaking trip with an organization called First Descents. I made a ton of friends, challenged myself physically, and just got some amazing life experiences. I’ve stayed in contact with my friends from the trip, and this pandemic spurred us to finally have a zoom meeting and talk all together. It was lovely. And I’m about to start a tabletop roleplaying campaign with one of them next week (via zoom, of course). So, great experience. Lasting friendships. And we’re all still flourishing in the midst of all this covid stuff. :)
Cassandra Khaw bought us 5 pints of fancy ice cream from a specialty store called Salt and Straw. Out of the blue. This morning. So we retaliated!
Nice try Amal - we all know the truth now.
Either your sister really is so tiny she can stand on your head - or you are a GIANT!
Anyway, if the latter, please let me be the first to welcome our Giant Amal overlord conqueror! 😂
That's so exciting! Love a socially-distant family visit. :)
A couple weeks ago my best friend gave me the gift of relighting my creative fire. He wrote a gorgeous new EP and recorded all of the vocals live on facebook in one take (I was horrified by the bravery required for this) and challenged me to start creating again. I took a long time off writing music dealing with depression and being sick, and it's felt like I'd lost the spark/magic/whatever to write. Today I got to send him the finished instrumentals of my first new song in years. He gave me back a part of myself.
Both my favorite/most-beautiful-to-me gifts were from my sister (I love my entire family, but she's the only one who can successfully get gifts for me without having to ask me for suggestions). For Christmas a couple years ago, she drew me a picture of Wind in the Willows' Mr. Badger sitting in his armchair, and it is without exaggeration my favorite gift ever, just because without asking she knew my favorite-character-I'd-never-remember-to-list-as-a-favorite, and then took the effort to create the drawing for me. (https://www.instagram.com/p/BdIqu9tg0Tx/?igshid=1ip9ovnxucc0b)
A close second, though, was a year ago when she and I were both moving away (me to LA, her to grad school) and she told me to "Go have an adventure" then handed me a pendant of the hobbit door to Bag End. The pendant has pretty much lived in my coat pocket as a good luck charm ever since.
This has been a hard week. We had to surrender the dog we adopted last month. It just wasn't working with the Toddler in quarantine. I'm not really a dog person. That's spouse's thing, but it's still very sad. I'm struggling to come up with any recent gifts of joy for that reason.
Ok. This is also kind of sad, but it is recent and a gift and full of love:
My grandfather died at the beginning of the month. We couldn't go to the funeral for obvious reasons. This week I received a letter from one of my oldest friends expressing her sympathy. She enclosed two poems about grief. One of which was written by my grandfather. Apparently she bought his self-published book of poetry at some point in the past and copied this one down for me now. It was special and kind and I'll always keep it.
A potted orchid was delivered to the house on my birthday. It has a dozen blooms. My husband ordered it as a surprise.
Hi Amal! I am so glad you got to see your sister! Hope you're continuing to do well, as well as possible under the circumstances.
I am doing ok and -- somehow -- writing a lot. The gift I most clearly remember is Lorraine taking me out for very fancy sushi for my birthday once. Somehow, I still remember that dinner, which is now several years ago!
I've spent a lot of time in the past in a long distance relationship, so I think "unexpected (transatlantic!) visit" is up there. Also, to get even more abstract, when Slovenia was holding its referendum about EU membership, my parents gave their votes to my sister and I. Not a very exciting thing when you're 11, but in hindsight their trust & faith in us and /our/ future warms my heart.
Also one time someone drew fanart based on a fic I wrote. That was pretty cool.
It's been a week of gifts for me. Through the mail - took seven days to get to me - I got a care package from Ruth with loose leaf mint tea for me and treats for Ruby cat. Then, Meg showed up at my door out of the blue with muffins. And finally Grainne gave me her old phone which is years newer than the one I'd been using. We sat in the garden socially distanced, under the huge old cherry tree that has just gone into bloom and I shared with her the last of the muffins - banana chocolate chip sourdough, delicious - and the mint tea.
The real gift to me though has been love and care from my family of friends.
I just opened a letter from a friend. I was her replacement as the coordinator of the campus food pantry. We bonded over fountain pens and a love of public service while she was training me. I sent her a letter with the first words written by my new pen in a new ink. I got her reply a couple of days ago, and I opened it today (I dunno if the bit about the virus lasting only 24-ish hours on paper and cardboard has been disproven; I washed my hands after handling it anyway).
I could tell the paper was special when I first pulled it from the envelope. I've always been a stationery nerd. I used to make my own paper (and paper-making tools). The tactile sensation of this paper was phenomenal. She wrote that her grandfather was part of the manufacturing process for the cotton-fiber paper she used to write the letter, and that it was the last case of its kind when he gave it to her mother almost fifty years ago. She's been using it sparingly for letters ever since.
Not only did that story fill my heart on its own, but there's also a connection she doesn't even know about: my own grandfather was an engineer for the same paper company, though he worked in a different state. Her story led to reminiscing about my grandfather, who died when I was only eight years old, and the smell of the paper mill that suffused the town where he lived when I would visit as a kid.
LoveLoveLove both of your delighted smiles. 💜💜💜
I’m being given the gift of laughter by my spouse, my pets, and my co-workers on a regular basis and given the world, it’s seriously the most wonderful thing right now 💗💗
Yay! Sistra love and cookies!!