Despite, Thanksgiving

This may be the hardest year to give thanks.  Not only because a convicted felon was elected President, but because I lost my mother this year, my wife has been dealing with her mother declining, and my daughter's production company closed its doors.  It has been a hard year in many ways, but the only way to get through this madness and the sadness is to hold onto the good stuff.  And there was good stuff this year despite all the bad stuff.

 

 

The year started with two amazing trips back to back.  I got to ski Hokkaido with my sister, her boyfriend, and his kids, and then I got to join my brother in a couple of the most magical places with my cousin, his wife, and his kids joining us in the second place for two days of great rides.  I am very thankful both my sister and brother as well as my cousin for enticing me into such fun trips.  

I am very grateful to the two H's that dominated my winter: Humboldt and Hertie. The former funded my time in Germany for three months in 2024 and three more in 2025, and the latter was a terrific host last winter and again next winter.  It was a great environment to get a sense of what Europeans were thinking, to get feedback on my work, and to do research in both Berlin and Helsinki.  Oh, and being based in berlin for three months gave me opportunities to do some more travel--Vienna for a talk, parts of Germany for Hertie events, southern Germany and Italy with Mrs. Spew, and some Austrian Alp skiing.

 

I am very grateful for a very supportive family.  We got together twice in the aftermath of my mother's passing--a short shiva in NYC and the first wedding of the next generation.  Much solace to grieve in company and then to celebrate some love.  Oh, and the wedding had llamas!

I am thankful for the summer providing some quick distractions from the sadness: a CDSN edited volume workshop (on which I am quite behind in editing), a great ERGOMAS conference in Stockholm, and then a few days at the NATO summit in DC with my favorite NATO expert and former podcast co-host.  

I was quite glad to see family again in late summer in western Canada as the summer family vacation was reset to Vancouver and Victoria.  I had been to the former a few times, but my first Victoria trip plus heaps of time with my two sisters, my brother, and a couple of nieces. 

The fall brought a heap of CDSN fun.  I am so grateful for the great team that does all of the heavy-lifting especially Melissa and Sherry.  We did a heap of great stuff--the Summer Institute, the book workshop, helping IUS-C, all of the podcasts, and it only works with so many people sharing their expertise and enthusiasm.  And I have had to ask a lot more from everyone as we start the process of seeking funding for another 3 or 7 years.  The grants require a lot of teamwork and a lot of time from many people, and I am so very thankful to have such great partners in this endeavor.

Oh and the fall brought back the 1980s!  First my 40th high school reunion and then Bruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuce!  

My family has faced much stress this year, so I am most thankful for their resilience.  The only way out is through, and we know that some parts are going to get harder.  Other parts hopefully will be less stressful and more fun.  We are now planning ski trips and another Eurotrip for Mrs. Spew.  

Oh, and we can bake our way through it, of course. My sister made 7 pies for today, while I am 60% of the way through my cookiefest.  I hope you and yours are having a great Thanksgiving.

Missed My Last Mother's Day

This special dinner was one of the first
gatherings after my father died, and I
remember that we all toasted my mother
for what she gave us and did for us.  We
were pretty determined to let her kno

 My father died just before Father's Day six years ago.  He knew he was dying, and every time he thought he had a few days left, he called to, well, repeat the same lecture as his hearing (and personality) limited conversations.  My mother died yesterday, just a few days after one of the only mother's days we didn't connect.  She had been in a rehab facility after a hospital stay, and I was in Germany, preparing to come back.  I had meant to call her when I got back, but I ended up pushing it to Saturday afternoon.  It was too late.  I had been determined over the past few years to tell her how I felt about her, how much I loved her, how much she shaped me, how much I owed her, so I am not so fussed about missing the chance for one last call.  She was 92, and the last few years and especially the last few months were progressively more difficult for her so this was not a surprise.  

My mother was simply the least self-centered person, most other-centered person I have ever met.  While she was a great cook, whenever there was a more burnt piece or a smaller piece, she saved those for herself.  I can't remember a time where her preferences overrode anyone else's.  She, for instance, did not enjoy the Barbie movie last summer, but she gamely went while most of her brood (her siblings, and much of the next gen) were in town for our summer vacation.  She would have preferred Oppenheimer.

My mother was an awesome grandmother,
and her legacy is this group of sharp, funny,
fierce, left-wing women.

Speaking of nuclear war, my mother is the one that got me interested in politics and history and international relations.  I don't have memories of specific conversations, but I do remember talking to her about this stuff. And one of my very first political memories is of watching her celebrate Nixon's resignation.  She was a fierce liberal, always wanting government to do right by those who were less fortunate.  While she had an appreciation for Jack Kennedy's looks, she was an FDR woman through and through.  She could talk New Deal as long as you wanted.  I got my sense of justice and outrage from her (and from my daughter).  While she never got to see a woman be president, she did get to see the most FDR-ish president in her last few years.

 

A pre-Steve pic of the family

My mother went back to work when I was in 3rd grade or so, working for the Naval Aviation Supply Office near Philly. That was fun for me as she told me about the cool planes that she would order parts for, ones that would make the news like the Harrier and the P-3. She would visit Hawaii and Guam as part of her job to connect with those on the other side of the supply chain.  Only now have I realized we never talked about what those meetings were about. Her first job, pre-kids, was in advertising in the 1950s in New York.  Which made her very uninterested in watching Mad Men. 

My mother shared her empathy with us, so that we cared about what happened to others.  It really was a defining characteristic.  I now I am being repetitive about her "other-ness" but it sticks out. A second defining characteristic was that she didn't want to be her mother-in-law--she wanted to be a far more supportive, loving one.  In that, she wildly succeeded.  She was so good to my wife and so sweet to my daughter.  She subsidized my daughter's private school in Montreal so that we could move there and understand my daughter's teachers.  She also gave us money to invest for my daughter's education so that she could go to any school she wanted.  I am pretty sure that the various relatives of ours who came out had no fear that she would ostracize them.  Maybe if they came out as a Trumper, but LGBTQ?  No worries there.

One could confuse her going along with everyone else as passivity, but not when one of her children needed her.  Then the momma bear would come out.  When we moved to Maryland, I was about five years old, ready to go to kindergarten.  They had me take an ethnically biased IQ test that I failed--for instance, the picture I picked as the best breakfast was not the bowl with steam coming from it but the round thing with a whole in it--a bagel.  Nope, it was a donut.  My mom went in and yelled at them.  I guess I got placed in a normal kindergarten track as a result. She also helped us push our father into getting us Candy who was the sweetest poodle.

Last summer, we played some gin
and some scrabble with her.  At 91,
she was still quite on top of her game
even as her NYT crossword puzzling
suffered a bit.

My mother was very smart, very curious, and very aware not just of her family but of the larger things.  Her politics, as mentioned above, were liberal in the most positive of ways.  She gave money to liberal politicians, she gave much time and effort to mental health organizations, and she gave her insights to us.  I am most grateful that her brilliance only dimmed at the very end, the last few months, as hospital visits made a dent.  Her memory was still so very clear, and I only wish she was more aggressive in sharing her stories.  She would tell them, but mostly when pushed, and I regret not being so good at getting more out of her.

 

 

My mother loved to travel and she loved fine dining.  My father and her got to visit almost every place in the world that they wanted.  She would have liked to keep traveling, but that got progressively more difficult.  My father's death put a big dent into the eating out as she grew up never eating out alone.  And then the pandemic struck, limiting our ability to visit.  Each of her four kids would take her out for dinner when we visited so that she could enjoy this one thing she could still do.  But for a couple of the last years of her life, she was pretty much trapped at home.  When I did visit recently, we would explore the streaming stuff, and we had a mixed record of finding stuff that she liked.  "It's ok" was about as negative a thing she would say.  She did find Breaking Bad to be engaging when I introduced it to her.

That she had no one to eat with except when we visited meant that she could not menace the sidewalks of Philadelphia with her scooter.  She was always an excellent driver--she taught most of us (all?) how to drive as she had far more patience than my father--and had an excellent memory of which sidewalks were intact and which ones were not.  I got much exercise trying to keep up with her as she scooted, even crossing against lights if there were no traffic (which is another thing I got from her). 

 

 

I got to learn which sites in Philly
were scooter-compatible including
this park by the Delaware River. 

We got in the habit of zooming twice a week when we were all locked down during the pandemic.  Given that we didn't have that much to talk about, given that none of us were doing anything interesting and we got tired of talking about politics, we started playing various games.  I found a Chuck Klosterman card set that would ask people about very strange hypothetical scenarios, and then we'd find out how each of us would behave.  It was most illuminating what my mother would and would not do for herself and for the greater good.

Which gets me to the last thing I wanted to mention here.  My mother had the sneakiest sense of humor.  She would mostly listen--either in these zooms or when we got together--but she had the sharpest zingers (never mean ones, well, not at us anyway).  More than once we laughed really hard and could barely breathe.  So, she was game to wear a tiara for her 90th birthday party.  She could be silly even as she was not a fan of silly tv/movies (see the Barbie reference above)

 

 

 

 My mother was very much the matriarch who held our family together.  We could have split apart, but her kindness, her patience, her tenacity, her sweetness, and her love kept us together.  For that and for everything else, I will be forever grateful.  I wish her last few years were not so frustrating and solitary, but she knew she was loved, that her kids and her grandkids appreciated her and were doing well with their lives. 

I couldn't find my digital stash of older pics that are mostly pictures of pictures my father took.  Will post more of those when I figure out which folder they are in.

Covid Fest?

Not quite max Saideman but close.

 I spent many Saturdays over the course of the pandemic charting my descent into quarantine madness, yet when I got COVID, I didn't feel any urgency to post about my experience.  Maybe COVID sucked out my blogging enthusiasm?  It was both good and bad timing--bad because I had some fun stuff lined up but good because I got it out of the way before Beulah-fest and Steve-fest but bad because boosters just became available as my covid case ended and now I have to wait three months to get a booster, but good perhaps because the next boosters might be better?

So, how did I get COVID?  By conferencing.  I went to the European Initiative on Security Studies conference in Berlin at the end of June/beginning of July.  It was both a good networking opportunity to build more bridges between the EISS and the CDSN and a chance to learn what the sharp folks are studying these days.  I wasn't presenting--I served as an overly talkative discussant for a civil-military relations pane.  Was this conference worth getting COVID?  Since Mrs. Spew and I both had very mild cases--sore threats, headaches--for about a week, I would have to say it probably was.  Why?

• any chance to hear Carrie Lee, Lindsay Cohn, and Chiara Ruffa present their stuff is a valuable learning experience.
• it is a small conference so I couldn't just go to panels dedicated to my specific niche, so I got to learn more about more things and from mostly a sharp next generation
• the aforementioned networking.  EISS and CDSN can do much together, and doing stuff in person just makes this much easier.
• German beer.

I had symptoms the day after I returned, and after three days of negative tests, I got a positive antigen test.  So, we hid out and progressively ran out of stuff.  The dechero of May had depleted our frozen food stock, so my freezer was not as full as usual.  I had planned on going shopping right after the Berlin trip to fill our cupboards and frig and freezer and, well, covid happened.  Still, we were able to hide out after canceling plans and got through it ok.  I managed to get some work done, but also felt far less guilty about taking a day off and then not getting much done on other days. 

We recovered after about ten days.  I kept in mind that (a) while the health authorities said 5 days after symptoms, one could start doing stuff, that probably was built on earlier variants--the more recent variants seem to last longer and (b) any notion of the average case being contagious for x days needs to keep in mind that "average" means half before and half after.  So, we stayed at home for the full ten days and then only went out masked for the necessary stuff--shopping.  

We recovered and were no longer contagious by the time we drove to Philly to celebrate my mother's 90th birthday (which was earlier in the year, but this was the best time for max Saideman turnout).  I got to see Hollywood Production Assistant Spew for the first time since winterfest as well as my nieces, nephew, mother, brother, and sisters and brother-in-law, cousins and even a cousin's sweet dog.  We had a very nice dinner with/for my mother.  She wore a tiara and everything!  

It ain't a real Steve fest without
a flight of wheat and Belgian beers
and a stout to round it off.

We have been hitting Philly hard the past few years as it is hard for my mother to travel--the summer vacation has been there since my father died.  We had one day at the shore--Asbury Park for the first time, no Bruce sightings.  A couple of good steak sandwichs, great bagels (I recoil in disgust when I pass by a Montreal bagel place on South Street) and lox, and a very good brew pub for my own Steve-fest.  

Oh and I impressed by making Dutch babies with caramel apple sauce for the first breakfast of the week:

My sister made birthday cake for me, and, yes, I asked for funfetti!

 

 

 

 A day at the shore, with Asbury Park having a pretty sweet boardwalk. The water was cold, but that didn't stop me from jumping in/over/under the waves.  I missed the next generation as it was always fun to dunk them, toss them, and hang with them in the water.

I embraced my inner Rocky as I did grew up in Philly at the time of the first three or so movies:

Save the clock tower!  Ok, my annual Mrs. Spew and I in front of Independence Hall.  I found it quite appropriate that the building is askew at a time where the institutions (SCOTUS) are broken.

We went to the Camden Aquarium as my daughter has a friend getting married there sometime in the next year or two.  We got to pet sharks and rays, saw two hippos, and got to see Philly from the other side.

With the heat and with us having done so much tourism in the city before, we did a lot of hanging out. 

Despite the COVID kickoff, Stevefest has been a good one.  Tomorrow, I play ultimate for the first time in more than a month, and, yeah, one of the last times...  but more on that later.

The Real End to the Quarantine: Seeing a Heap of Family and Eating Way Too Much

 For the eighteen months or so, my monthly email from google maps told me that my furthest trips were to the edges of Ottawa and not much beyond.  And for that same period, I had not seen any family, other than Mrs. Spew, in person at all.  Both of those trends ended this past week, as we drove to Philly to spend a week with almost all of the family on my side (we still haven't seen my wife's family since December 2019).  Facebook memories has been reminding me all week long about all the other trips over the years as this time of year has been Saideman-fest--on the beaches of the east coast, Lake George, a cruise to Alaska (the last trip with my father for his 90th birthday), and Disney/San Diego way back when.  The last few have been in Philly--because my mother can't travel.  

So, what did I do and learn while hanging out in my hometown?  I learned that my favorite place for a steak sandwich, milkshake, and fries is still on top of its game as I met up with friends from high school.

The giant's skeleton
was featured inside where
we were not allowed
to take pics

I learned that there is a museum I had never heard of--the Mütter--which is a medical museum featuring heaps of really gross specimens of body parts and skeletons.  It also had a 1918 flu exhibition that was planned before the current pandemic with notes tying the two together--the name of this exhibition was "Spit Spreads Death" using the slogan and visuals of the time.  And, yes, Philly handed the 1918 flu worse than damn near every place else.  This time?  They handed the vaccinations over at first to some 23 year old with no experience.  Oy.  Now, the city is pretty well vaccinated and doing ok.  Mask wearing was mixed although better than what we observed in upper state NY on the way down and back.  Rural vs. urban remains the most salient divide on pretty much everything these days.

 

 

Some of us went to the Philly Art Museum, which remains as huge as ever.  I walked around a bit before folks got there, and a guy took a few pics of me with Rocky.  We spent most of our time in the American art section--1700s and 1800s--and the modern art sections.  And the cafeteria there had great food.  The last time I was here, I hung out with Brooke Shields.... ok, I was a valet and parked cars for a big event where she walked near me.

 

 

 

Speaking of great food, we aimed to eat outdoors as much as we could--my mother loves to make reservations--but we also had more meals at my mom's place than usual to minimize our exposure to folks.  

 

 

 

 

My brother demonstrated his prowess as a professionally trained chef.

 

I had to rely on my year of skill development to compete. Which meant I got to cook one night, focusing on Nigella and King Arthur--chicken shawarma, pitas, chocolate chip cookie dough pots (in a muffin pan), and veggies.  The oven had a glitch halfway through the pita making process, which scared me--I didn't think we would end up with everything getting cooked.  But it worked out.  My sister's curse (she has had repeated crises on Thanksgiving--broken oven, power failure, plumbing issues) hit me, I guess.  Anyhow, the folks liked it and ate it up, so my job was done. 

Heaps of pita, Chicken Shawarma, two sauces,
some falafel from the Market for those who don't
eat chicken, two veggie dishes, red onions and also
sauteed onions and peppers to top the pitas.

 

Our last breakfast together with everyone was a bagel picnic.   

Perhaps the second biggest highlight of the trip was meeting up with my cousin and his family at the Jersey shore.  His kids are young and cute and full of energy, so they dragged me repeatedly in to the cold water, and chased their own bad throws as we played frisbee in the sand.  The only downside is that the combo of not stretching, running in the sand, and plunging into the cold water did not help rehab my calf strain.  I may be able to play next week, but it will be a risk. 

The highlight?  Seeing my daughter in person for the first time in a long, long time.  She is now an amazing adult with a cool new job. I can't wait to go to the west coast to meet her cat and see new apartment and meet roommates and all that.  Some day... as travel across the border is easier but not easy.

We had to spend $ to get a fast set of tests, we had to download and fill out the ArriveCan app (should be CanArrive), sweep our own nostrils at the border, and so on.  All good, but lots of uncertainty remain about flying.  

It was definitely strange to move from seeing no one and traveling nowhere to a few small meetups to a massive gathering and heaps of travel and much going out.  We were careful most of the time with our indoors eating in large but uncrowded places like the Reading Terminal Market.  It was very much worth it.  And I sure as hell hope it won't be so long until I see these folks again.  Indeed, our Thanksgiving planning has already started.

 

Winterfest Explainer

Every year, my family indulges in winterfest.  No, not festivus, the Seinfeld holiday where people have feats of strength and whining.  Winterfest, for us, is the enjoyment of the various traditions of whatever holidays that happen to be coinciding in wintertime.  We do not believe in any of the religions, but do enjoy candy canes, hanging ornaments, occasionally burning 1-8 candles, giving and, yes, receiving gifts.

This fits into our larger tradition of spending a week or so celebrating major events--that birthday-fest or anniversary-fest gives us an excuse to spend heaps of money on eating out and eating/drinking too much.

So, no, when I mention winterfest, I am not referring to that other thing that involves venting and all that.  Sure, we vent, but that is a 365 day a year phenomenon.  For this week-ish (it is as long as we want or can afford) holiday, we do what we want with a bit less guilt and with a lot more calories and spending.  Because we spend most of the year in Canada, we tend to rejoice in those things we can't get in Canada, like chains that don't exist up there (Great Harvest Bread Company, Trader Joe's) or decent Mexican food.  We occasionally did rock climbing with the nieces or bowling or what not.  It is a tradition if we want to to and not if we don't.  That is what winterfest is to us--a time to have fun together, stealing some of the fun stuff from various traditions and none of the guilt or responsibilities.

I hope you and yours enjoy your break for the ordinary.  Happy winterfest and happy new year to those who visit the Semi-Spew!  Let's hope that 2019 is a more just year.

Los Angeles: Lessons Learned with and without The Heir

Holy Furnicular:
Mrs. Spew wondered what was worth the trip?

Yes, we had fun at Universal, but then we had to go and try out other parts of LA.  So, yesterday, we visited downtown and the Griffith Observatory.  Driving around LA is like walking around Boston as I knew Boston from the Robert B. Parker Spenser novels, and LA seems familiar thanks to Michael Connelly's Bosch books--we saw Angel Flight and have been driving past Echo Park, for example.  That I happened to drive through Florence and Normandie after picking up our rental car--well, that was on google maps. 

Butterbeer Revelations Amid the Sunshine

Have I said how much I love LA?  Because my daughter works full-time, Mrs. Spew and I spent our first day in LA at Universal Studios.  We had a heap of fun, doing every attraction and ride except the kids' splashzone and the Olivander wand show (long line, not that interesting, did it before).  It was our first time back at Harry Potterland since we sold the house in Montreal.

The changes in the park had nothing to do with HP, as the HP stuff remained mostly the same--better merch, some better candies in HoneyDukes, but the rides were the same.  Three Broomsticks was not crowded.  Indeed, we probably worried too much about crowds.  We stayed at related hotel to get into the park early, and we bought express passes.  Both were handy, but not crucial.

The big difference?  No more  Marvel.  In 2012 in Florida, the Spider-man ride was the super-cool 3 or 4D ride.  This time, Transformers, and it was just not as good.  No pics with Captain America either.  The Simpsons ride was still as fun, and we had forgotten how fast the Mummy ride accelerates.  The Despicable Me ride was new and fun, as was the Kung Fu Panda show.  Each one required at least some water thrown at the riders, just to give each ride that extra dimension. 

Last time, we were pretty sure that frozen butterbeer was superior to cold butterbeer, but I think I have to change my mind on that.  Yummy, either way.  The Cauldron Cake was just a cupcake in a cauldron.  We definitely need to go back to Orlando since they doubled the HP stuff with material from the last three books--a Gringotts ride, as we predicted.

We did the Studio Tour, which we did the last time we were here.  They changed one of the events in the ride to go with Fast and Furious, but I was more excited to see some of the Good Place set.  The tour was also frustrating as our tram broke down.  We got pushed up a hill or two by a tow truck.  Also, being in the front of the second car meant we couldn't hear much of the narration--why haven't they gone electric?  It would also make the place quieter for filming.


Because it is Halloween season, they had stuff set up for evenings of frights. We didn't pay the extra ticket price to stick around.  But it did help to explain things like clowns on the War of the World's set:

The Waterworld show was more realistic now than the movie was then--too much climate change.  It was a very good show--heaps of cool action.

Yes, we bought a heap of merch for ourselves and our friends.  A great start to our trip, which, of course, began with a taco truck:

and, yes:

Time to Dance, Time to Mourn, Time to Dodge NYC Traffic

After my father's death, my siblings and I went to Philly to see my Mother and start the great excavation (my dad was a big-time hoarder) and then went to NYC for the funeral and the shiva.  I learned much along the way.

First, much thanks to those who commented on my blog, tweeted at me, posted condolences on facebook or reached out in other ways.  We all complain much about social media, but there are lots of great people out there who help extend one's sense of community--I definitely did not feel alone at all this week.  I felt the friendship, the love, and the concern, and I am very grateful for this extended community.  Thank you.

Second, I learned that my brother-in-law is sneaky funny.  At the funeral service, when I stepped up to say a few words, most of the folks were on alert, worried that I might spend much time on the difficult parts of my relationship with my dad.  I did not.  My brother-in-law?  Oh my, he focused on Reuben's Rules (my Dad's name was misspelled in the paper of record, the one he obviously collected no matter where he was!) which was a semi-roast in a very loving, humorous way.  I wish I could have written them all down--having violated many of them many times except the first one--don't be late.  I got my impatience from my father.

Third, I learned about driving in Brooklyn.  Lots of double parking, lots of left turn lines, so driving was much like skiing down a slalom--left, right, left, right.  Fun for me, not so much fun for Mrs. Spew.

Fourth, I was much more attentive to the surroundings at this burial than at my uncle's.  My dad and uncle are buried next to each other in a larger family plot, and I know better now some of the ancestors and their history better.

Fifth, I am lousy at remembering rules, and shiva is full of them.  Shiva is the Jewish mourning period that goes for seven days after the burial (I think).  We stuck around for only a few since I have a big trip tomorrow.  One is supposed to sit uncomfortably for hours as folks come by to wish their condolences.  We aren't supposed to listen to music (some of the next generation played my aunt's big piano before we were told--as a primary mourner, I am not supposed to listen to music for a year).  The real key is lots of food. Booze is ok but not as central as it is to a wake, I guess.  Because my father outlived most of his friends and relatives and had lived outside of New York since, um, 1971 or so, we didn't get too many folks.  Which meant it was mostly an intra-Saideman affair.  My daughter flew back from the west coast as did one niece, and we had much of the next generation--my siblings' kids and some of my cousins' kids.  Stories were told, we did what Saidemans do--talk a lot. My mother was her usual stoic self.  What awaits her now?  Digging through my dad's hoarding.  We did some of that in our short time in Philly, and two of my siblings did some of that in my dad's last few days as he finally relented.

As I said in my comments at the funeral, my father went out on his terms--he still had all of his mental ability and memory, he waited to die until after he could attend two more grandchild graduations and after another family event.  He got to say goodbye to almost everyone.  Given his love of travel (he retired early so he could hit all seven continents), I am sure he would be glad I am venturing off to Chile for the next stage of my current project.  So, I post this with a smattering of pics I could find on my computer, which is also appropriate as he was an obsessive photographer of family events.

An old picture that was posted by boy in the middle of an old
vacation with the family of my father's closest friends.
Gotta love early 1970s clothing.  Aside from my father,
my family is in the middle and on the right

During our Hawaii trip, my folks were called up at the luau
as the longest married folks.  They made it past 60 years

My father with my nephew--the last of our name on our side.

High school graduation with my daughter and my parents--
not getting a similar pic after her college graduation was an epic fail.

Tea time at the summer vacation in Quebec a couple of years ago
with my father, mother, aforementioned brother-in-law
and the most responsible sister who is the family's
collective action sucker for whom I am most grateful
(sucks to to be the oldest, great to be the youngest)

Cape Cod vacation: the nuclear family.

The Last Father's Day

This Father's Day started off pretty complicated--lots of feels.  First, the story of the week, so quickly crowding out the supposed peace in our time summit in Singapore, is the destruction of families and the incarceration of kids from infants to teens. Count me more than sufficiently appalled. I see many fathers and others tweeting about this story and its meaning today on Father's Day.

Second, this is the first Father's Day where my only child is, well, no longer a child.  She graduated college last month, found an apartment on her own, and is two weeks into her first full time (with benefits!) job in Hollywood.  Thus far, the biggest challenge have been ants (Trader Joe's parking lots were the biggest challenge during her internship this winter).  That and finding time to do errands given the long hours she is working.  But she just got her first adult paycheck.  She did all of this with little help from her parents.  All I did was help her drive her to LA in January.  Anyhow, I take much pride in her gutsiness and her accomplishments, so this is a very proud Father's Day.

Third, it is also a pretty sad Father's Day, as I learned while I was writing this post (I was in the middle of the next paragraph) that my father passed away last night.  He was diagnosed with a terminal disease last December and was supposed to live a few weeks.  He outlived that prognosis and maybe a couple of others, but not the last one. He lived long enough to go to my daughter's graduation and that of one of my nieces. 

The way this played out enabled him to have a last conversation with each of his kids several times.  At 90+, he didn't lose his mental capacity (he was still doing his own taxes and fighting over pennies with the NY tax folks), just his hearing.  So, these conversations were mostly lectures.  Lectures of regret and fear.  We had a lousy relationship for nearly my entire life, one that worsened when I married someone outside of his religion.  He regretted what he did and apologized several times over the past couple of years.  I have forgiven each time, but he did not process that and did not move on.  Stubbornness and holding grudges were key traits he has handed down to me.

They are all laughing at my father who was peaking through
a porthole as we were taking pics the last night of the cruise
if I remember correctly.  He was superproud of his herd
of grandkids. 

Where does the aforementioned fear come in?  He worried that my siblings and I will not stick together after his death, and I get that, since my father facilitated family vacations the past 20 years or so which brought together my parents, my siblings and the next generation.  His strategy worked, as the granddaughters and grandson get along very well, and I did see much of my siblings every summer and every Thanksgiving.  Last summer, the cruise to Alaska was seen as a big deal partly because it was his 90th birthday and mostly because it seemed to be the last one where everyone would be together--that the post-college grandkids might not be able to attend the next one.  So, we went all out and created some great memories. It was doing a couple of things my father loved most--traveling, observing (but not really participating) in nature, taking lots of pictures.

While we didn't get along very well, I do appreciate many things....
That he was proud of me regarding my career and my work as he always had a strong interest in international relations;
That he was proud of who my daughter was turning into, that he lived long enough to see her graduated and employed;
That, ironically, my wife became his favorite in-law;
That we shared a love of travel and of good food (although he was very much a wine person and found my love of brew pubs entertaining);
That he cared so much about the family;
That I probably get my curiosity from him as he read voraciously and saved stuff to read even more so (he was quite the hoarder--he printed out years of the Semi-Spew to read or re-read).
And other stuff, too, that I will probably figure out at the funeral as he is eulogized.

From the last family vacation, he so loved nature so this shot seems appropriate. 

So, yes, a very complicated and sad Father's Day.  I hope my readers can celebrate this day with silly presents and fun stories and see the Incredibles 2. 

Thar She Goes!

This weekend, we headed to Ithaca one last time--to see College Spew become Graduate Spew, and now I am verklempt.   The four years flew by, and I have the same feeling today that I did when I dropped her off at the start of international student orientation (yeah, they treated her like a Canadian might be unfamiliar with American ways): pride but also much sadness as she is fully launched.  I doubt that she will spend much time back in Ottawa again, as most of our holiday get togethers will be elsewhere.  We had so much time together until four years ago, some occasionally since, and now?  Not so much.

She was always diligent, creative, sharp, funny, and opinionated.  Turns out she is gutsy too as she heads west, in search of a job.  When I headed west after college, I had four year

s of guaranteed funding ($12k per year, woot!) and I thought I knew what I was getting into.  She has no such guarantees, although she has many connections now thanks to her internships, her school's connections, a celebrity mensch mentor, and a few of my friends who ende
d up in the industry.  So, she is jumping in, and I have little doubt that she will succeed.  The only question is whether she can put up with the traffic and super-obnoxious drivers. 

We did have an excellent weekend, where we spent time with her, her friends (she has an amazing group of buddies, several of which she met at the aforementioned international student orientation), and the parents of her friends.  The event was rained on, but we managed.  Maybe it is good luck like the rain that hit our wedding in San Diego a few decades ago. 

All I know is that she is going to do great, that she will make a difference, and I am going to miss her terribly.  On the bright side, I got to hear my favorite song:

How did it get so dusty in my home office?