reiki #2 and #3 (m)

I finished my three Reiki sessions with Kristin.  Cost $200 for three sessions, a savings of $40 versus a per price session of $80.  It was well worth it.

Allow me to explain.

Recall that in session #1, Kristin noticed I had "layers of emotional dust."  She made large, sweeping motions as if wielding a broom on a dirt-covered floor in Plymouth Plantation.  Sweep...sweep...sweep.  By the end of the hour, she was exhausted but satisfied that she had "removed most of the layers."

In session #2, Kristin told me that Helen said I was "a good egg."  Who, you ask, is Helen?  I shall tell you.  Helen is a long-deceased woman whom Kristin used to care for.  Kristin was delighted to hear from Helen as she had not heard from her "in a long, long, time.  If Helen thinks you are a good egg, well, that's a real compliment."

I left session #2 feeling happy that such a discerning person as Helen felt compelled to reach out from the beyond to say I was a good egg.   My enthusiasm wasn't even diminished by my brother Phil who had his wife call me, pretending to be Helen, the night my husband was out of town.

In session #3, we discovered I have a gift.  Kristin feels I was put on this earth to help people in transition.  You mean like a career counselor? I asked, a little pissed that should be my calling.  "No, no...someone who can help people who are dying cross over to the other side.  Have you ever been with someone right when they died?"  I thought about this.  I counted 8 people and one pet dog.  That's nine.  Wow.  I felt my skin crawl.

Last night, my aunt X called to ask if I would help a friend of hers.  The woman has stage 4 liver cancer and, now, a heart problem, too.  She needed a ride to Mass General Hospital for an appointment.

Today, I take D to the appointment.  D is an only child, lost her fiancee to a heart attack many years ago, and has no children.  She is all alone in the world save for a few friends.

The appointment is tough, as D is told she is in atrial fibrillation and not a candidate for a procedure given her advanced cancer.  She gets out of breath just walking across a room.

As we get in the garage to drive home, she turns to me and asks, "M...are you afraid of death?"

I want to say, "No, I'm afraid of my gift."

a screening (lyn)

The good thing about going to screenings or theater almost every day is that it forces me to have an early dinner, which almost always results in a deflated scale reading the next morning.

Take today, for instance.  I’m meeting Zelia at 7 for a 7:30 screening of We Need to Talk About Kevin.  I plan to leave by 6:30, which means eating by 6. The lemon-garlic roasted chicken from Fairway is outstanding.  I buy and eat less than half a chicken with some vegetables and a couple of black and white cookies.   I leave the house sated, and know, that without even tracking, I’ve stayed within my points.

Zelia is already in line for the movie by the time I arrive.  Atypically, the line stretches about two city blocks.  We slowly make it inside the theater, and down a flight of stairs.  Then, with about six people in front of us, an official looking person announces, “I’m very sorry, but we are out of seats.”  And, no one is allowed to stand. 

We hang around a bit, and a woman from Oscilloscope Pictures brings in two chairs so we can stay.  Being a voting member of BAFTA helps.  The movie is a harrowing story of a mother’s love for her psychopathic son, a son who early on displays signs of evil.  The movie ends and we learn that Tilda Swinton, the actress starring in the movie, is here for a Q&A.  I am always surprised at the intelligence and sensitivity that professional actors bring to their craft.  It’s a great interview.

I leave grateful for living in New York City, where surprises like Tilda Swinton just happen.  But more importantly, I leave grateful for having such a normal child.

all write, already! (m)

Lyn told me to write.  She fears we will lose readership.  Yeah, like the 18 people signed in on the blog are waiting with baited breath to hear the latest installment of our lives. I doubt you've even noticed my absence given all the postings of Alexander's baby pictures to entertain you (he was adorable).

Where do I begin?  October was the month that wouldn't end.  On that last weekend, we went to a major dinner/fundraiser at Harrison's school.  I had just finished the presentation to the Board of the medical school that week and was in the mood to relax and be social.  The event was held on the night of the freaky snow/windstorm.  While the weather outside was frightful, it was cozy and warm inside.  Somewhere in the middle of my Thai-themed cocktail, my cell phone went off.  My neighbor, aka Gladys Kravitz (from Bewitched):  "M...watch out coming home.  A 60-foot tree fell across our street."  Who cares?  No one was hurt and the tree fell on the cul-de-sac, well before my driveway.  I had a glass of wine and enjoyed the rest of the evening.

Driving home, the wind was gusting 50 miles per hour.  As we got further away from Cambridge and closer to our home, we noticed an accumulation of snow.  Thought little of it.

Pull into our street and it's pitch black.  We lost power.  Harrison is sitting in the house, working on college applications with the light from a lantern. 

By morning, the power had not returned.  I had a dream that I fell asleep in a fire station but realized the piercing sound of alarms was coming from our home which woke us out of a dead sleep at 5 a.m.  Thirty minutes of non-stop blaring later, my husband cut the wires to shut the system off.

Little did we know on Sunday morning that this storm was no ordinary storm.  We lost major trees on the property as well as the phone, internet, heat, electricity and television.  This lasted FIVE DAYS.

We bought a back-up generator as a gift to each other one Christmas.  The thing kicked in and lit a couple of rooms, the refrigerator and the garage doors.  Heat in two rooms.  With the light shining from the kitchen window, we attracted neighbors to our home much like Mary and Joseph following the North Star.  Some came to warm up.  Some brought their children in to do homework. One kid had pneumonia.  Some just left their cell phones to charge up rather than sit in a car and wait for them to charge that way.  I had no oven and the stove smelled of gas when I turned it on.  Someone told me to throw a match in the range to see if we could get it going.  I tossed a lit match in and BOOM...a flame!  I felt like the person who discovered fire.  We cooked for everyone...a family of five, my three...using whatever was on hand.

On Monday, while resting my feet from decorating the cafeteria at Harrison's school for Halloween, my cell phone goes off.  It's my husband's best friend.  They just got back from South Africa and have no power. Can they stay with us?  I explain my situation but tell them they are welcome to stay with us and share the little heat and limited power.

They arrive at 6 p.m. with a turquoise Le Crueset pot full of braised beef short ribs and a canvas tote with individual compartments for six bottles of wine.  It was like a Yuppie sit-in.  They have a wine cellar to rival the best restaurants and brought a sampling of some bottles "for fun."  Fun to me is not wine.  Cannolis, maybe.  Dark chocolate, definitely.  Wine, no.

The wife arrived with a bandage across her nose and two black eyes.  She said she fell again because of her fuzzy socks on her hardwood floor.  I suggested it might also be the four glasses of wine she consumes before bed each evening. 

They stayed until Thursday and we enjoyed their company very much.  We laughed and drank wine every night.  It was a bit like vacation, I'm not going to lie.  During the days, we shopped at Filene's Basement which is closing.  I spent $558 on two tuxedos, tux shirts, shoes and accessories for the boys.  Four cashmere sweaters for me and a pair of Cole Haan shoes for T.  The receipt said I saved $1,440.00

Wouldn't it be nice if Weight Watchers tallied up everything you ate in a day ...instead of what you wanted to eat...and told you what you saved in points?  Just a thought.

gone missing (lyn)

I’m organizing a kitchen cabinet when I realize I have only two champagne glasses.  This is odd because I remember buying new champagne glasses in June.  It was at the time of Alexander’s prom, and Shari and her husband had come over with champagne and glasses, because I had neither.  I then start to wonder, could I possibly have bought only two glasses?  I rarely drink (I didn’t drink much before ww, and now I don’t for the added reason of extra points), but every now and then I do have people over and we do have a glass or two of something stronger than ice tea.

I go through all my cabinets.  Not there.  I check in closets thinking, could I have bought four glasses but stored two?  I doubt it but I check anyway. 

I even think for a second, could my once-a-month housekeeper have taken two champagne glasses?  This theory is dismissed quickly and I feel some guilt for even considering it.  She is very honest and the most she would take without asking is a can of Diet Coke.

I then go back to my first thought, maybe I stupidly purchased only two?

I bought the glasses at Bed, Bath and Beyond in late May/early June.  I check my American Express statements for May, June and July, nothing for this store.  I look in my check book, and yes, there’s a debit for $140.19, and a notation:  beach chair and wine glasses.  That would be about right for four glasses, a beach chair, and some miscellaneous things.  So now I’m pretty sure I did buy four, but I still have no idea how they could have disappeared in my house.

Could it be like the chocolate croissant and cinnamon swirl that I bought at the Farmer’s Market a week ago, brought home, and never saw again?  Or my white Horace Mann sweatpants that I wanted to wear the other night but were no where to be found?  How do things disappear in my own small apartment?

Having exhausted all places that two champagne glasses could possibly be, I decide that tomorrow I will go back to Bed, Bath and Beyond and re-buy them.

I call Alexander to hear about his weekend.  I don’t know what makes me ask, but I do.  “Hey, you didn’t take a couple of champagne glasses to school did you?”  He starts laughing.  “Oh, ya, I did.”  I think he's kidding; he's not.

I never considered that my son would have taken two champagne glasses to school.  I ask him if he has my Horace Mann sweatpants too; he doesn't.

weekend recap (lyn)

Movies, theater and eating.  Basically, this is how I spend all my time lately, and this weekend is no exception.  Remarkably, these activities have been costing little.

Friday

Robyn and her friend Richard come over to watch a new in-theater movie (Margin Call)  that is also playing on PPV. Robyn, who is incapable of coming over empty-handed, shows up with baked apples and raisins cooked with diet black cherry soda (it tastes so much better than it sounds), and Richard brings red wine.  Robyn also supplies the wine glasses and an opener. 

Food Cost: Zero.

Entertainment Cost: $6.99 for the 3 of us to watch a just-released movie.

Other Cost: Realization that I need to buy wine glasses.

Saturday

See an off-off-Broadway play with Jill downtown, Boy Gets Girl.  The theater is in  a hard-to-find building on lower Broadway and requires trudging up four flights of stairs to get there.  But it’s worth it.  The play is well-acted, well-written, and well-staged. It’s the story of a girl whose blind date ends up stalking her.  Jill and I decide to skip dinner before and the play ends late so we skip coffee after.

Food Cost: Zero.

Entertainment Cost: $4.00.

Other Cost:  Don’t even pay for transportation as Robyn lends me her unlimited monthly metro card.

Sunday

Meet Shari to see a BAFTA screening of My Week With Marilyn.  Afterwards, we watch from the second row as Simon Curtis (the director), Michelle Williams, and Kenneth Branagh are interviewed.  I can’t imagine Ms. Williams not receiving an Oscar nomination for this role;  she is extraordinary.

Food Cost: Zero dollars but lots of points:  I bring a bag of tasteless 3-point popcorn, but mix in chocolate covered pomegranate candies.

Entertainment Cost: Zero.

Other Cost:  Take advantage of the 20% Friends and Family sale at Bloomingdales and buy six wine glasses as a result of Friday’s entertainment.

So in summary, I eat in all weekend.  I see two new movies and a play.  I spend time with a few different friends. I eat smartly (somewhat).  I spend little.  It’s a nice weekend.

lightening up (lyn)

I do another round of closet and drawer organizing.  I’m trying to get down to only those clothes I truly love.  I come across an elegant, size small Brunello Cucinelli black cashmere cardigan that I have totally forgotten about.  It is in a cleaning bag dated 2007 and hidden in the back of a closet I rarely use.  It fits perfectly, and I have to wonder why it has been abandoned for so long.  Then I find an adorable pale pink TSE cardigan with button snaps, size large, in another cleaning bag from 2006.  I try this on and it is too small.  So much for giving credence to sizes.  Next, I find a size large Michael Kors cashmere cardigan (also in light pink) that I bought in 2009, and have maybe worn once.  It is gorgeous, but too big and boxy for me. 

I take the two pink sweaters (barely-worn-fresh-from-cleaning-bags) over to Designer Resale, the snobby little store that probably has a lower acceptance rate than Harvard.  The salesgirl looks at the sweaters.  She begins to unfold one and then pauses, as if just realizing the color. “I’m sorry, we can’t take these.  It is too late in the season.  Pinks do not sell well here in winter.”  Multi-ply cashmere sweaters, in light colors, are currently on display in stores all over Manhattan.  I tell her this.  She is unmoved.  “If you want to try again in the spring, I’ll take a look at them then.”  Annoyed, I leave.

I give Robyn the itsy bitsy size large TSE sweater and it fits her size zero frame beautifully. I mail the other sweater to my mom.  Shedding clothes is like shedding weight.  I feel so much lighter now.

birthday boy (lyn)

My son was born at Lenox Hill Hospital in New York City on November 11, 1992.  Valerie pointed out then, the symmetry in the date, because 9 plus 2 is also 11. 

So for a very long time I have thought about today, 11-11-11.

In 2009, I wrote on this blog:

…it strikes me that two years from today my son will be in college.  It makes me more than a little sad.

Then last year I wrote:

...I can’t help but wonder where Alexander will be next year on his special 19th birthday.

So, today is that day.  My glorious son is 19. 

This is only the second time I have not been with Alexander on his birthday.  When he was in 8^th grade, Alexander was at a mandatory eight-day program at Horace Mann’s John Door Nature Laboratory in scenic Washington Connecticut.  He was with his friends, and together they celebrated Alexander’s 14th birthday.

Tonight, Alexander will be with new friends in scenic Ithaca.  And tomorrow, Alexander’s paternal grandparents are going up to school to take him and a few friends out to dinner. Like so many birthdays, this one will be spent with friends and family celebrating around food,  though the food of course will not be remembered.

When Alexander turned one, I had a small family party for him. 

There I read a poem that I had written for him to celebrate his first year.

When first I held you in my arms,

I knew not what to do.

A scrawny, bloody, six-six babe,

And I a mother new.

So tiny felt your little bod,

I loved its every bit.

All wrapped in skin so plentiful,

It hardy seemed to fit.

And with much pride, objective I

Did think I’d simply be.

But Gerber model you were not.

More like, they said, E.T.

With light brown fuzz and absent brows

And crust in your left eye.

A micro-munchkin baby you

Sized out to your dad’s thigh.

Your lilliputian features were

A reason to be smitten.

Val was right in commenting,

“He’s like a little kitten.”

In time you’ll know that I am not

Proficient as a cook.

But every hour your first weeks

You stared that starring look.

So like your dad you started out

Devoid of normal fears.

With deep dark eyes and thin sweet lips

And oh such lovely ears.

I loved to rock you cradled in

My arms-it was so grand.

If only for a moment since

So soon you wished to stand.

At 7 weeks you laughed out loud.

At 8 you slept all night.

But I woke then, as I do now,

To see you breathe all right.

Buddha Baby you were called

And Sandro, Junior too.

Chief Wetface for a little while.

There’s more, that’s just a few.

And yes it took a month or two

For nonno to admit.

His ever-active grandson to

Great cuteness did submit.

The bravest boy, you never cry,

From any fall or thud.

Not even at the doctor’s when

He took from you some blood.

So good you are my precious son

You eat all on your plate.

To bed you go when I say night

Then soundly doze ‘til light.

I love to watch you sleeping

Sweet wet ringlets hug your hair.

With little legs tucked tightly

And your tush high in the air.

Always on the move somewhere

You never park and stay.

But still a shock it was to find

You on your high chair tray.

And though I may be guilty of,

A tad bit too much braggin’.

But how can life get better than

To watch you push your wagon?  

A million-trillion zillion toys

Of many stores I’ve rid.

Most bought in vain, since you’d prefer,

To steal my coffee lid.

A little athlete you’ve become-

So sturdy, you don’t fall.

Soon you’ll walk and I will miss

Your funny monkey crawl.

Excitement always lights your face

Delight marks every scene.

With seven teeth just peeking out

You’re one big smile machine.

Everyone who meets you now

It takes them not too long.

To look at me and simply say,

“My goodness he’s so strong.”

And quickly people note of you,

“He truly grins a lot.”

You rarely cry; you hardly whine,

So like a baby, not.

An innocent you are to life

A human yet untainted.

A pallet full of colors bright

A picture still unpainted.

No thoughts you know, no pain you feel.

No thoughts or actions vile.

No sad-based tears, no lonely fears,

No reasons not to smile.

A honey, bunny baby boy

I love you very much.

And hope your magic charming ways

Forever keep their touch.

With open eyes and grabby hands

Amazement on your face.

So eager to take every crumb,

All life you do embrace.

Don’t ever lose the passion and

The awe each new day brings.

For ceiling fans and cordless phones

And other common things.

And while I know that as you grow

Some days will take their toll.

Your happy spirit I do pray

Locks firm within your soul.

Happy birthday, baby.  I love you.

                                            Mom