Dejas vous all over again?

Every September, that is how it feels to me. All the years of school behind me, as Labor Day approaches and then passes through all the memories of first days of school, seeing friends after a long summer break, returning home after a summer away at camp, and feeling the sadness of the days gone by, friends who have passed away and are no longer around to share the memories with. It feels as though a whole part of my life is gone with those deaths, as they were keepers of the memories, sometimes ones I had forgotten until they revived some obscure tale from our childhood. No one to share the new memories with.

The new memories of my son's school years, new clothes, running for school supplies the school didn't tell us we needed until after school starts and the supplies can no longer be found, bus problems, class problems, and on and on. Hoping that when he reaches middle-age that he will be able to look back on these days with fondness, and some sadness that these days too have passed by, but has the opportunity to create new memories with his children.

Always, as September begins and ages, I find myself delving in my closets and drawers to find my cooler weather clothes, like finding lost friends that I had forgotten about, my beautiful silk scarves that I wear all winter to liven up my boring lawyer suits, and my shoes and boots and jackets and coats, and say goodbye to summer and summer clothes until next year. Can 2010 really be only 3 months away?

Cooking from memory

Most of the time, I think although I cook well, that I am a somewhat limited cook. Since I have time these days, and my son keeps asking me to write down recipes so he will have them when he grows up, I began to do just that. In writing down the recipes I have kept in my cooking muscle memory for 20-30 years, I was surprised at how many are there - at least 40 - just be memory.

Then I started reviewing and adding favorite recipes from cookbooks, or ones my mother wrote down for me 20 years ago, or I copied from her books 25 years ago. Then I started adding articles I had clipped from Gourmet, or Bon Appetit, or the New York Times, and it kept going and going.

Probably to more than 200 recipes which I have now added together into a book for my kitchen and for my son. In a form that I can keep adding to it, and perfecting it for years to come.

But in really reviewing all these recipes I can see the evolution of my life, of my health food life, of my cooking life, from very simple recipes to more adventurous recipes that require more thought, skill and concentration, and better kitchen tools and self-confidence.

So, my son and his children (I hope) will have an interesting keepsake, one that will be used and evolve into their own recipes, stores, and history.

Zen of Family Life

To survive my family (which is entirely normal, meaning equally as dysfunctional as everyone else's family), I have spent many years in therapy and learning how to be the pebble in the brook. The water rushes around me and over me, but I am stable, solid, not moving, not allowing myself to be moved or affected by the weather and the water rushing and moving. Most of the time I succeed, despite much adversity.

Growing up

When are we ever really grown up? This topic came up yesterday for me during a client meeting with someone who is not happy about turning 30, when I will shortly be turning 50. He is not ready. I never believed I would make it to 30, thinking drinking and drugs would kill me. Instead, I found sobriety at 28 and here I am.

In these times, do we grow up when we graduate college? Don't think so. Many of us these days don't marry, don't have children for years. We work and play and live independent lives but not really grown up ones. Very little responsibility to anyone but ourselves, and some for work. Is it when we get married? Somewhat, as we then begin to have responsibility toward others, maybe buy a house, work more and harder with greater consequences for failure. Certainly becoming a parent is a big one, forcing one into maturity in ways we cannot anticipate or dream.

Another milestone in my life is happening next week, when my son begins high school. The days and years since his birth passed so fast, it is impossible to believe he is 13 and entering high school, with four years left until he begins to leave for college. Even knowing that he will be in and out of my home for the college years, it is still the anticipation of this sea change in life that frightens me. For any parent, our identities and days are so wrapped around parenthood, making sure our child has what he needs be it food, clothes, education, medical care, toys, friends, family, not in any particular order, just depending on the day and time.

Then one day, before we realize it is happening, he will be almost grown up, independent, going through the same process that we experienced, but in a different world then what we experienced growing up.

While we grew up in the Cold War, these children have grown up with the post 9/11 world. We grew up with computers that occupied and entire room. These children are growing up with the world literally at their fingertips with smart phones and the internet. We grew up fighting the government to keep our personal information private from government oversight and intrusion during the 60s and 70s, Watergate, and the Pentagon Papers. These children are growing up with no privacy via MySpace and Facebook, Twitter, and the big brother found in these social networking sights.

I can't say which is better. History may tell us or not. But it is a sure bet that we won't be here to find out.

Restful sleep

As one gets older, it becomes the ongoing question - will I ever have a night of restful sleep? It is so rare to spent a night in bed without waking up, without tossing and turning and being restless. I am so used to getting up at 6 a.m. or 7 a.m. for so many years, to work, to care for my son, even on the weekends, sleeping until 8 a.m. was a luxury. But now I find myself sleeping until 8 a.m. on a weekday, and even today 9:45 a.m. on a Sunday, how rare. I can't remember sleeping like that on a Sunday in probably 25 years. I don't know if it is good or bad, healthy or not, but it is interesting feeling to feel somewhat rested and calm as my son begins his school year, not hectic and harried as usual. So we continue out clean-out and clean-up of the house, so we will definitely not qualify for the show Hoarders/Obsessed. Maybe just obsessed with cleaning out?

End of life counseling

Yesterday, I experienced end of life counseling in a discussion with my father, other family members and my father's doctor. It was horrifically sad, but very humane. The doctor was very kind and sensitive to everyone, and understood the complex nature of the discussion. This was no death panel, this was not the government deciding health care for an elderly person. It was a kind way of ensuring that if a patient does not want to continue on in a life with pain and suffering they can make an informed, intelligent choice about whether to have CPR or other measures taken to bring then back. This is what Medicare provides for, and everyone should be entitled to this, to be shown forms for living wills and health care proxies so this is all set up for them, it saves everyone time, energy, money (especially if you have to get we evil lawyers involved in the process) and most importantly emotional pain.

I am so tired of listening to the illogical debates and discussions. What a great loss today for the debate in Ted Kennedy's death. We need someone to step up with a great voice who can frame the issues and move us past emotion and into facts and logic. Unfortunately, however much I admire President Obama, he is not leading us, he handed us over to the wolves in Congress, to the hissing lobbyists and pharma companies and insurance companies to cut up the spoils they will invariably end up with. How sad for all of us that these issues continue to be politicized.

Cleaning out

When I was a child, I was very focused on being organized and systematic, in contrast to the chaotic house I lived in. Organizing my possessions, clothes, toys, books, felt like the only thing I could control, since I lived with a parent who was compulsive, compulsive spending, compulsive hoarding - food, clothes, medicine and vitamins, newspapers, magazines, catalogues, papers.

I have not lived at home for more than 30 years, but I still am always cleaning out, afraid of accumulating too much. About 20 years ago I read a book about Kabalah. A few concepts really spoke to me, one being one of emptying out, that if I am emptying out, cleaning out, I am leaving room for G-d, and other positive energy. But if I am hoarding, then I am blocking positive energy and positive things from reaching me. Emptying out could be anything, from stuff, to emotional baggage. So I have spent years, emptying out negativity, from old unused clothes and possession, to old emotional baggage that weighs me down and prevents me from soaring. It is both frightening and freeing to make change in life, as much as it is to clean out - that type of change.

With that said, I am in a cleaning out phase. When we returned home from our vacation, (with too much time on my hands) I organized my closet and drawers, cleaning out several bags of clothes, and making a commitment to wear everything in my closet before I repeated summer clothes, and will do the same for fall/winter clothes. As I go, I am finding more and more to clean out, forcing myself to empty out irrelevant baggage from my life.

A&E has a new show about OCD including people who hoard. It is fascinating to watch the program and realize how the compulsions start, the fears, and that is it not so far-fetched or unreasonable. The relationship people can have to their possessions, food, papers, what others would think of as junk. Now that my husband has watched a few episodes, he is now cleaning out too.