Keep on Keepin' On~ For Grandpap

It's been one hell of month as I gazed blankly,(maybe just exhausted), at my iCal on my laptop. The appointments and obligations that fill up my calendar for the month of June are nothing extremely out of the ordinary - but from beginning to end, seem so far apart...
For the past few months my grandfather was struggling - fighting the true battle of his life. Finally, in a moment of amazing grace he took his last breath on June 14th. The amazing part was - his wife and four of his children were by his side. He wasn't alone. Despite all his agony in his final days, it's comforting to know he looked into my grandmother's eyes and held his childrens' hands before his final goodbye.
My mother asked me to write a poem for the funeral. She asked my brother to write something as well. I arranged travelling plans to Maryland, met up with my bro and his girlfriend, and prepped for the weight of what Monday or Tuesday may bring. As I wrote thoughts and jumbled ideas, as my bro pondered and collected more information - it was made clear that this simple poem and "something to say", became the Eulogy.

Wow. That's a lot of pressure.

I have a difficult time writing for family - at least, so I thought. I always think I'm too personal or too much of something. In 2004, my 21-year old cousin, whom was one of my best friends, was killed in a car accident by a drunk-driver. When I tried to write for him - everything seemed contrived and not genuine enough. I still beat myself up over the fact that I didn't read something from me at his funeral. I still kick myself because I think I gave up too easily and he deserved more from me. This experience taught me a lot....because I didn't want to be anything but strong for grandpop. Strong was the only way to be for the man who always believed in me...always.

I'm honored that I had a chance to speak, honored that my mother chose my brother and I to speak for her. She knew we would exemplify what everyone couldn't find the words to say.

I'm proud that I took the plunge this time. I was very hesitant - very hesitant - but I knew if my brother was up there with me, somehow, it would all come out perfectly. My brother spent the entire day typing this beautiful reflection on our grandfather - much like a great newspaper article (after all, he is a newspaper reporter!), while I spent time sitting on the train and in the front seat of bro's car, nibbling saltines and guzzling ginger ale, scribbling on a notepad.

I learned more from this experience than any other. It finaly sunk in that I hold back. I hold back when I feel my talents or whatever I have to offer is not of perfection. My mom read the rough draft, after I exasperated that it wasn't finished - please don't read it - it's not really a poem - it's too personal - blah blah blah. After the first few lines, my mother was crying. "This is perfect, Jessica. Don't change a thing" she said, "You're crazy". Now, my mother's like me - honest. She'll tell you exactly what she thinks. She won't be supportive just for the sake of being supportive. I believed her. And though it obviously need tweaking (it wasn't perfect), having that feedback meant SO MUCH.

Maybe I am crazy.

At the closing of a beautiful catholic mass, the priest nodded to my brother and I. We each ascended the wide marble steps to the podium. My brother spoke first. It was difficult to hold it together -for me- he wrote of a gift our grandfather gave him for one of his birthdays - A Merriem-Webster Dictionary. He reflected on what was written inside the front cover : "Keep on Keepin' On". He reflected on the fact that this simple saying was a driving force in grandpop's life and in the people's lives he touched - especially his family. Though my brother and I wrote separately, our words connected with different rhythm, different focus, but with the same intention - love.

I concluded the Eulogy with this poetic reflection:

I was once a little blonde girl in pigtails. At that time, I had no idea the life that this man built inside the walls I called "grandmom and grandpop's house". This was a place I loved to visit, but it was his smile most of all.

A pillar of support with just a hug or a wink. I knew just by looking at him, just by looking in those eyes that the world is worth the journey, and dreams can come true if I really try.

He was determined, strong-willed and a brave soul. Proud and stubborn still - but he would never falter. He was a family man who paved the way for generations to come. A passion; a zest for life that has inspired me to become the woman I am today.

80 years - and I have not seen them all, except in detailed stories over coffee at the kitchen table, except in pieces of memories in sepia toned and black and white photographs.
80 years - and I have not seen them all, but with modesty, with grace, he held onto those years as delicate as his own grandchild's hand.

Though I have not seen them all - I've seen much. I've watch him dance with my grandmother on New Year's Eve, read books to my brother and me - transporting our wandering imaginations. He was the grandpa who was always interested in who I was and who I was going to be.

With love, he would sometimes sneak me a midnight snack or a 10 dollar bill. See, with Henry, with grandpop, it was always be full, be happy, be young at heart. He knew life was fleeting. I take from his journey that the best things in life should happen today - and every day.

80 years - a long, good life - and that's an understatement. 80 years - and I smile for grandpop today. I smile because even as his eyes and will grew weary, he could always see the power behind a smile. The power of happiness, of beauty, and of love.


~J

Something to Blog About: A Weekend in Review

Okay....I'm a bit delayed with this post....it just BEGS to be written!
This past weekend was full of new discoveries and good times...I want to share. Correction. I NEED to share them with you...my summer reccommendations: Take your time, take it in.




FRIDAY, June 8th: FREE LOVE, baby

After I went out with colleagues from work, I recieved a phone call from a friend that I haven't see in some time. She tells me she has an extra ticket to the Public Theatre's SHAKESPEARE IN THE PARK!!! I can't even tell you how incredibly excited I was. I've been wanting to go to these annual Shakespeare performance events every summer. It's always FREE, but often very difficult to come by tickets. And yes, yes, I know. Many of you are thinking, "i thought it wasn't open yet"...but my smart and sassy friend knew the brillance of seeing something while still in previews...she found it easier to get tickets. Good idea.

At any rate, I was eternally grateful! What a great performance! I saw "Romeo and Juliet" with the uber talented Lauren Ambrose (Claire from Six Feet Under) as Juliet and the fantastic Oscar Issac (performed in past Shakespeare in the Park productions) as Romeo. If you think you've seen this play, you haven't. I think most of us know some movie versions and forget some elements that make the play. And if you think hearing the same text you have heard before will bore you, think again. There were many times when I thought I had never seen a certain part ever before.
Issac's performance floored me at times. He knows his Shakespeare text, it's true, and he plays the uber essential quirky teenage heart-throb that Romeo should be, and then some. Romeo and Juliet's scenes together were chock full of physical humor and raw excitement - like love...but more like teenage love. I believed it, and enjoyed these scenes immensely. The balcony scene, which is seemingly overdone, found nuances that made it one of the most captivating parts of the show.
Camryn Manheim played the ever-so genuine and bold Nurse. What a great part, and Manheim played it with her own two cents added. It was such an enjoyable performance. Her scene with Romeo and Mercutio was like nothing I've ever seen before - rich with physicality! I also was captivated by Michael Cristofer's performance as Capulet, the man of the house. He definitely assumed the role of Juliet's father with such power and domination, it frightened me at times. Parts of the play seemed to move a bit slower than they should, especially in the second half, but they are still in previews. I forgive them for the amazing talent the actors possessed. The set was pretty damn cool too. It rotated and there was a shallow pool of water in the center....you must see it! There's sooo much to say. I am standing in line for sure. Midsummer Night's Dream is next! I am all about the summer of FREE Love this year ;)






Saturday, June 9th: the Upper West Side

Movies: Shrek the Third was good. I failed to see the second one, so I feel I missed a few connections, but it was funny and charming and yes, I did cry a little. The animation was even clearer and more detailed, if possible. Visually, it was pretty amazing. The story felt a bit unfinished, so I wondered if a fourth version of Shrek is in the future...
Go and see it, but you can wait for the DVD if you'd like...it's not a "rush-to-theatres-movie"...but see this funny cleverness at some point.

While walking around the upper west side, after the movie, I stumbled upon a little wine store called "Vintage" (Broadway & w93rd St). Hm. My dad and brother's birthday celebration dinner was Sunday night, so I wanted to get my father a unique bottle of wine. This seemed like a good place. I've heard of "Vintage" before, can't think of where, but I have...so i thought it must be good for NYC. The prices were average and they seemed to have a fine selection. Plus, they are open until midnight every night (7 days a week)! They have wine tastings nightly...I was curious to know more. I got my dad their highly recommended white wine that he has yet to try. I hope he enjoys it. There are two "Vintage New York" establishments in the city. Some cater to private wine tastings and the like, others cater to more retail sale....check it out:

http://www.vintagenewyork.com/aboutvny.html


Sunday, June 10th: Good eats. Good conversation...


After a long day and busy weekend, my brother, father, father's new girlfriend (wink, wink), and uncle came over. We were headed out for birthday celebration goodness. My brother just recently turned 28 and my father will be turning 53 on Father's Day. My brother, Nick picked a great and fantastic place to eat on the lower east side. This fantastic place was orginally discovered by Nic, my bro's girlfriend. The mentioned "fantastic" place is...

'inoteca

Located at: 98 Rivington St., New York, NY 10002
at Ludlow St.



yeah, it's a bit off the beaten path for most of my friends, I know, but let me tell you: SO worth it! Go go go! Great gourmet food and an extensive wine list (and I mean EXTENSIVE) that doesn't surpass some of the overpriced NYC gourmet. Portions are amazing and a great place to bring a group. This place usually has a waiting list. Now, if you are a true new yorker, you know that's a #1 sign that a place is something to brag about! According to Nic, it wasn't as crowded as usual (she's been about 3 times), but I thought it was pleasantly full - not overcrowded, not too sparse for a Sunday evening. This is italian cuisine that has adopted the tapas style - small plates of food served in appetizer portions. There was so much food! We had four courses....I definitely had to pace myself. Everything was amazing! And I mean, I tried things I might have turned down at first (like the beet and orange salad - which was incredible!). First served were olives in a spicy olive oil, small pieces of italian bread and a variety of thinly sliced meats directly imported from Italy. I can't even tell you - that was the best salami I have EVER had...seriously. And if you hate bologna, this italian version with pistachios was pretty delectable. The first course came next - a variety of salads. This included the infamous beet and orange salad with hazelnuts - so good. You just have to try. I have never had beets before, and was taken aback by the combination with the oranges. Good stuff. There was also a calamari salad (i could actuallly see the little squids, tried it anyway, and liked it very very much), a mixed lettuce caesar salad and a salad tossed with chicken and walnuts. I was almost full after trying small portions of each kind of salad. There were very small plates for this course...so you really had to eat and choose at the same time. After the salads came the main meal arrived...or meals I should say. There was a choice between this eggplant lasagna...(that I can't even really define as lasagne...because it was like eggplant pie or something), these meaty meatballs (must have been made of sirloin or something), some three-bean salad with polenta, and my favorite: french fried veggies. These were vegetables in salt - almost looking crystalized. They literally tasted like veggie fries. So awesomely good. I think there was something else too..but I was too caught up in all the goodness to remember! Dessert was awesome! Each person recieved individual shot-like glasses of this coffee-like milkshake/vanilla gelato creation. There was also cooked apples and grapes and a large variety of types of goat cheeses. They also served mini cracker-like nutella sandwiches. I wanna go back...

You are probably wondering about prices. We paid a pre-fix of $40 bucks each...but look at all the food I got! Of course I spent more than that - we went through two bottles of wine and a bottle of Italian Prosecco (like champagne: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prosecco). If less people go, you do not have to order the pre-fix.

I highly highly reccommend 'intoeca for your next dining event ;) Good friends. Good family - whomever. It's worth the money and such good eats! Thus far, my fave dining experience in NYC I think. Here's what NYMagazine had to say: http://nymag.com/listings/restaurant/inoteca01/


Welcome Summer!
There's more to come about NY discoveries....

Until the next post ;) ~me

(Delayed Publication) Ode to the Cookie: A Better Version of Me

After I gave into temptation and ordered sweet&sour chicken with white rice, straying from my a-typical sesame chicken with vegetable fried rice...I pride myself in changing scenery once in awhile....I opened my fortune cookie.

It said, "The best thing you can do is get good at being you".

The last time I got a fortune that seemed in tune with my life was the last time I needed chinese take out to relieve stress.

There has been a lot on my plate and I've been in denial about it because I don't want to lose control. When this happens, my eating patterns get fucked up. I'll buy a lean cuisine and order chinese food anyway....

But I'll always remember when I opened a fortune cookie and it said "Fate will find a way". It was over a year ago. Feels so much longer...this in my early twenty something desperate need to be wanted by the opposite sex - embarrasingly so when I look back on it. I strategically taped this fortune to my journal. I looked at it during times of procrastination, and wrote poetry about it or for it.

The next night I meet the opposite sex at a bar. He swears he knows me from somewhere. He tries to recall the time and place, the corridor, the room where we shook hands. It never happened...but his face is so familiar. I leave him behind for a moment or two - amazed by his assertiveness. My instincts fail me. I return to him. We talk. We leave together. I'm determined to figure out how I know him. I won't leave until I know. I found out later, I did meet him...for a brief moment in an office space, a brief smile on the sidewalk and I sat across the room from him once - on a couch. I don't think we talked. He was nobody really...and I fell for him, all because I believed in the fortune that said, "Fate will find a way"....not in the way I thought.

With "The best you can do is get good at being you", I smirked the same way I smirked then....but this time I'm listening more carefully, feet firmly planted on this ground.
"The best I can do..." is exactly what I needed to hear. I beat myself up (especially in the last few months)...and leave it to the cookie to remind me to keep on doing what I do best and keep on improving that best. This is my little ode to the fortune cookie. Whenever you feel guilty about getting chinese take out - look to the cookie. These fortunes always fit in the places that I am in my life, and keeps me on track.

Okay, laugh at me. Goooo ahead! I'm a dork.

I'm thinking about the orange popsicle I had with my prek kids today...

Where have I been??

stumbling, mumbling through the past few days...i typically awake on a saturday wondering if I have to make a mad rush out the door to get to work. My days are jumbled...lagging behind. Story of my life. The same damn story....

I'm a firm believer that history repeats itself in many ways...sometimes small forms...sometimes larger than life moments....either way...it repeats until or unless we learn something from it enough to change it.

Maybe some things aren't meant to be changed. I'm not talking about me.

I will write soon....promises. promises. OH! Nina's show is this weekend....EEEEEEKKKKKK! WOOOOHOOOO! The last two rehearsals were A-M-A-Z-i-N-G! I'm so happy for how this all turned out...the actors are great, putting all of their energy into it, and it's all coming together. It should turn out fantastical, for sure ;) I'm nervous for tomorrow, but I think tech will go well...(it's our first time in the space). And the show will run super smooth on Sunday. Positive thinking is key...I'm excited for Nina most of all!

Long weekend. Too much on my plate. Have to write student reports about four and five year olds. Please. If they don't know left from right now, they will eventually. Get over it - 4 year olds being evaluated already? Sick sad world, my friends, sick sad world...(* that was a "venting moment"*)

humidity makes me feel like a beached whale.

bleck.

The Little Engine

Caffeine often subsitutes art

I could be saving money and saving pounds just by watching a few good actors rehearse a show.

Poetry readings do the same.

Thanks for the high.

My grad class ends this Saturday! Yay! I don't start classes again until the Fall....and I'll be one of those annoying busy people, yet I'll still be making time to see a ton of theatre and writing poems like it's my second job. I'm taking three classes. Am I nuts? If I can't get financial aid, commit me, please.

Must finish paper tomorrow. I think I can...I think I can....I think I can....oh little engine is sooooo slow.

My Grandmother is a Painter

My mother, brother and I (and my dad - before my parents divorced about 8 or 9 years ago) would often travel in car to Maryland to visit my grandparents right after Christmas Day - only staying for that inbetween time. We didn't stick around for New Years Eve much. We visited other times, but the holiday season was a big deal.

So, my grandmother has this painting...I'm not sure when she painted it...or when I noticed it. It's a painting of her and my grandfather in a horse drawn sleigh. They are gliding across a snowy winter landscape. She would put it downstairs in her foyer, right around Christmas time....at least I think so. I never noticed it until this one visit, so I assumed she moved it downstairs because it was a seasonal picture. My grandmother has always had her paintings all around her home (and this house is pretty big).

I remember staring at it a few years ago and laughing a little.

My grandfather always struggled with diabetes and my mother would be on his case with that tough love grip. In the painting, she holding the reigns and the most prevalent color in the painting was a deep red. A red blanket covered her and my grandfather while my grandmother held red reigns. I remember asking my grandmother about the painting. I actually told her it was very interesting that she was the one holding on to those reigns. She didn't quite understand. I said something like, "You're the one in control of the relationship". She smirked and nodded and said she had never thought of it that way.

Now my grandmother is holding on tighter than ever before. I think of her a lot lately. See, my grandfather isn't doing so well. A few months ago had cancer - mellanoma (sp??), had it removed, but because he's aged quite a lot in past few years, they decided not to go through with treatment. The cancer spread. My grandfather had a stroke. Two tumors were found in his brain. Only in his brain. One of those tumors caused the stroke. My grandfather can't speak and is often unreactive. He had surgery. It was successful. The tumors were removed and he is cancer-free. Cancer-free and not the same person he was, wants to be, or will ever be again. One moment they think he's coherant, the next they are not sure if there is a sign of Martha's beloved Henry, of my mother's father, or of my grandfather. My mom was speaking to him and she cried. He began to cry to. She thought this was a sign. Is empathy the same as understanding? I started to wonder.

My mom was visiting her parents, taking care of her mom, visiting her father for about two weeks. When my mom left, my grandmother felt very alone. I never realized because she has always seemed so independant, so in control, so strong, that she has never been alone in her whole life. Henry and Martha, my grandparents, have known each other since they were 13 years old. They are best friends - as thick and thin as it seems. They now want to put my grandfather in a nursing home. He's just not recovering at the pace that the doctors anticipated.

"Can you help me figure out what to do by myself?" my grandmother asked my mom over the phone.

"Paint. Take a class." my mom says....then, she had a thought, "I'll be your student. Teach me how to paint this summer." she says.

I could pick up a paintbrush too.

My grandmother uses a lot of watercolors, but I have an oil painting of hers....sometimes it's good to try a new medium.

Cut Flower Series 1

Okay...so I've wanted to write poems or mini-short prose-stories about my dating experiences...I'm not sure if this is technically a poem...because it reads a little like a short short mini story...anyway, it's late and I should be in bed to function for the kiddies tomorrow, BUT you should know...I think this is the beginning of a series of poems about dates and the 20-something dating experience....something like that. Good night. Let me know what you think....I know you will ;) 

 “I’d like To Think Everyone is Worthy, not Always Compatible, But Worthy”, He Said We wore coats and scarves and wooly hats when we met on the corner of 57th and 7th. You took me to your favorite place. You convinced me that a margarita wasn’t a girly drink because we were in a Mexican restaurant. I was just curious. I said I’ve been here before, and you played disappointed. I suppose we both truly value good impressions, but we were both presently distracted by what we were struggling to find. You had said you hated the phone. I understood. You were quiet and breathy when we spoke. You talked about spoiling your dog and your love for fiction. I heard her panting in the background, jealous for our lack of conversation. When our margaritas arrived, I wished I had asked for salt, just to have an excuse to play with the rim of my glass. Instead, I stared at your hair and wondered how much gel you used. You noticed. It’s not over crowded and the conversation is nice. You talk about coming of age, your frat boy days, the band you played in, the overweight ex who once was skinny, and how you moved to a foreign country to teach children. You had cut your hair, got rid of your piercings and changed your life. You did most of the talking. I excuse myself to the bathroom - one room in a small hallway between the kitchen and the dining area. I wait for the door to unlock. I peek at you sitting and waiting, not even taking out your cell phone – not even to pretend to check a message that isn’t really there. Something I would have done. I return. We talk, you talk some more. It’s much too cold to think of leaving. So he said, he didn’t want this night to end... We shivered our way to a Starbucks. He bought me chai. He showed off his iPod. We listened to music. Most of it I hated or didn't understand, but I nodded and smiled. He hugged me on the subway platform. I kissed him lightly on the cheek. Maybe I shouldn’t have. He told me later he wished he had kissed me like he wanted to. Next time, he said. “Next time I’ll try that kissing thing”. He made me smile even though next time never came...