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Mother's Day

  Yesterday was Mother’s Day and as I walked among the people hurrying places with bouquets and crowding the sidewalk cafés, I remembered the day Dad and I forgot completely that it was Mother’s Day and wandered into a neighborhood restaurant.  We were startled to find it decked out in pink flowers in full of families. Feeling awkward   in our motherless state, we made a hasty report. Decades later, when Dad’s memory was fading, he asked for my mother over and over. At first, I would carefully tell him, breaking the story into pieces, like a bar of chocolate so that he could understand- but then I realized that was just creating pain for both of us as he found out about her death again and again. So I started just telling him “she isn’t here,” which he was completely satisfied with.   But even when she was physically alive, she wasn’t here.  I don’t know when she began to disappear but by the time I was old enough to really know her, she was fading rapidly. ...
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Bay Ridge Saturday

        I’m trying not to count down to the surgery. I don’t see how that could possibly be helpful, but my brain seems to do it automatically and every now and then when I notice the date or write it on something, my brain says 10 days.     This is exacerbated by an app-like thing I have never seen before called “Care Plan” which sends you messages about what you are supposed to do to prepare for the surgery.     So far I’ve only gotten one, a list of medications to discontinue - none of which I take anyway.     I’m also starting to gather items I will need for the hospital, tossing them in my duffel bag as they occur to me.     Like a mother about to have her third child, I have enough hospital experience to know what will and won’t be useful.     I had to do an errand that sent me into the 80s, the busy shopping area of Bay Ridge.  On my way I passed the building that held the mental health...
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Hell's Kitchen

          I really need to at least start on dad’s apartment before my surgery so I got up early today and headed over there hoping to get the key. This time when I rang the office buzzer someone answered and let me in.  She came out into the hall with the keys in her hand, not just the front door but the apartment door, too, which I was worried they might not have.       “I don’t have the mailbox key,” she said apologetically. “All his mail has been forwarded anyway,” I told her. “But when you sell the apartment you will have to change the lock,” she reminded me.      “We’ll get started soon,” I said, assuring myself as much as her. “It’s been a long time,” she said. “Yes, we’ve been in court for a long time, all because I am not his blood daughter.” “I always tell people to write down exactly what you want,” she said. “He did,” I said, “he named me as beneficiary.” “Oh I thought he died...
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No Parking for ICE

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         Having lost their parking contract with the City, ICE is looking for new parking, so the first thing today was a protest outside their building on Varick St. A scafffold provided convenient protection from the drizzle as we formed two long lines of chanting people with signs with a corridor for pedestrians in the middle. More than 100 ppl from RAR and Chelsea Neighbors United showed up along with plenty of press. Chanting for an hour can get monotonous so I amused myself by watching the reactions of the people walking by. There were a lot of supportive responses and fist pumps, some chanting along as they passed, and one or two who picked up a sign and joined us. Then there were others who just smiled or nodded.     Others seemed confused by the whole thing, and two men who were visibly startled when the end of Jay’s speech suddenly erupted into chants all around them.     There was no hostility from bystanders and just one of t...
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Microwave delphiniums

  This weekend has been hectic enough that when I finally got home tonight, opened the microwave, and found some pound cake and a potted delphinium in full bloom, I closed the door quickly and decided not to worry about it. My cats, who are usually set for 8am, have decided to move it up to 7:30am with Marley as the ringleader.  She and Connor are very punctual, sitting on my chest until the weight wakes me up, something scrawny Marley could not accomplish on her own. It was just as well today since I had to leave early to go see Jasmine, the radical foot doc.  She knows me well enough to extrapolate from my swollen ankle to my political activities so she asked me what I have been doing.  I told her about Friday, about  being frustrated at not being able to hop over the gate, the big march, all of it.  She pointed out the odd thickening of the skin at the edge of my feet.  “I guess I’m walking oddly,” I said, and then it d...
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Red wine and tears

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         Yesterday was Mark Milano’s actual memorial at The Center, where so many activist milestones take place.     Entering the room, the first person I saw was Andy, who reached to hug me with a glass of red wine in his hand, spilling it on my sweatshirt sleeve and the floor.               Next I encountered a cluster of FUQ lesbians ,all of them mothers now, one with no longer baby daughters about to head to college.     The moment felt awkward, like running into colleagues you once saw daily but haven’t seen in a long time.     There have been times I wondered where these women were as we did action after action, trying to hold on to the things we won a long time ago.         Not Jennifer, but the others, who melted away and left just the two of us. Jenn has seen me in various states, showing up DC with my walker or barely able to ge...
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May Day

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              Activism can be a source of real frustration for me because I come hard up against the limits of what my body can do these days.     Yesterday was May Day, and a coalition of activists decided to take a stand against the billionaires who are greedily monopolizing resources, buying our democracy, and destroying the planet for profit. Sunrise, an organization of mostly young activists, put out the call but in an effort to prevent the info leaks to the police that have plagued several recent actions, in order to get any details other than the date we had to show up at a meeting the evening before. I ducked out of work early not knowing what to expect and made my way down to Judson, where people were gathering in the former gym.  It’s a big, unfurnished space and when I got there, young organizers were kneeling on the floor drawing on big pieces of paper and stacks of pizza boxes covered a table.  I grabbed one o...
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