V's Version

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Current Mood: surprised


Current Music: Liz Story, Peace Piece


OK - I read Jess's Journal and she had this timeline. I thought, "Hey! I've had a diary for 30 years, I can do this!' I have to say that I had no idea whatsoever what I would find when I went back in time. Unbelievable.

On this day 15 years ago: I was 24 and dating Alexis in Boston and Cayenne in San Fransisco, living in Somerville, MA. Both relationships were falling apart. My best friend Hanne consoled me as I cried about how insane it all was. My mother was on her way to detox and I was newly clean and sober. The phone and the doorbell rang at exactly the same moment on November 19, 1989. On the phone was Jorj (my ex) who was trying to reconnect lines of communication. At the door was P (aka WW). A quote from that day: "P is a woman from AA. She works in the theater and we've been getting to know each other lately. I like her. She's cute (as if I need another lover?! She has a girlfriend which is the safest thing possible!) But she's a lot more than cute - I like the way we talk & how she questions & how we're honest (with each other)..." I was overwhelmed by the choices in my life and how to make good decisions. Another quote from that day: "I am suffering so much now & it feels like burden upon burden is upon me...it really feels like too much to bear. Yuck. I hate even a glimpse of suicide. It comes sometimes. Never has it before but now? I'm too strong. Suicide is stupid. I want to cry my pain until the tears are a river & I can float away to a place where I feel calm & loved & safe." I cried myself to sleep that night and two days later, P and I slept together for the first time.

On this day 10 years ago: I was 29 and my mother had been dead for 1 1/2 years. I had been married to WW for 3 1/2 years, living in Watertown, MA. She was taking 11 credits in seminary, working 3 part time jobs while I was working one full time job at a bead store and two part time jobs cleaning an office and restoring antique quilts. We didn't see each other much & I was profoundly aching to start a family. From that day: "I'm soooo sick of being depressed and unhappy and enraged. I want to SNAP OUT OF IT! Don't know how I would take my life - if I could do it. Carbon monoxide is convenient. Painless. Then I catch myself & say what the fuck? OK. OK. So I'm lonely & isolated & directionless & angry & empty. So what? It's all manageable, right? I can break my isolation. I can find direction. I can express anger & somehow fill the emptiness....I go back & forth between seeing in color and seeing in a very dim black & white & gray tones...I am 29 and I want more...I want to have the energy to donate my bone marrow if someone with lukemia needs it & give my time to feed hungry people. I want to be on committees at church that mean something & belong to an artist's co-op. I want to watch less TV and listen to more music. I want to fight less. Be angry less. Care more. Be less spikey & more soft. I want a family. I want relationships & intimacy. I want sexual contact & to laugh more. I want a pet. I want to do what I am supposed to do: love, nurture & create."

On this day 5 years ago: I was 34, still married (very much the minister's wife), a nursing mother of 2 1/2 year son (Pk), youth group adviser to teens at church, living in Santa Cruz (Aptos, really), CA. The closest entry was November 13th: "Sarah is a young woman from Maine that we met at festival who wants to be a UU minister. She just showed up on our doorstep & expected us to take her in & feed her. Normally, that's exactly what we would do but to have 5 adults, 2 babies & a dog in this tiny house was way too much (ed: we were housing a couple of unmarried teenagers and their new baby.) I think WW was pushed over the edge when Sarah put the electric griddle on the gas stovetop burners & filled the house with toxic burnt plastic smell!" The kids at youth group honored me for my birthday. Some quotes from the teens: Teddy: " I admire you. It's amazing that you are not bitter with all the oppression of lesbians." Mac: "It's so cool that you can get along with so many different kinds of people." Leo: "V - you bust out! You are the coolest. You're like an old Chinese man who can talk about any subject." Melissa: "I look up to you. You are my hero because you are both kind and strong." Ben: "I think it's so cool that I am now where you were 16 years ago. I like that you don't try to control us." Another quote from the diary: "There were other things said but the overall theme was one of affirmation that I am a good adviser, that I make a difference in their lives. It was awesome."

On this day last year: I was 38 and a year into fighting cancer and PNP. Pk was 6 1/2 and into Aikido. WW had informed me that we would no longer be married a month earlier. We were in the process of buying a house but still sharing a bed in our Aptos home. It was torture. Although she was on the phone daily with K, she was, on this day, on a date with J in the city. From my diary: "The whole freaking situation is depressing. She is Ms. Independence - liberated from the shackles of marriage - even an open marriage. Now she can play as much as she wants - go out salsa dancing & up to Berkeley each Sunday & whatever she wants. It fucking pisses me off. While she's buying (edited) "toys" for K, I'm looking at vibrators because that's how it's going to be: She's going off to fuck other women & I'm staying home with cancer and PNP - it sucks." I cannot see / imagine any intimacy with another adult any time soon. From the diary: "I have enough to take care of myself & Pk. And even that I can't do alone. But he's my priority. I like spending time with him - playing hangman, jumprope... He is my salvation (but I don't tell him that - too much of a burden.) I love to put him to sleep. I sing, we talk, he tells me stories, I tell him stories, we ask each other questions...I scratch his back & somehow convince him to settle down. I love to feel him fall asleep." I hate to admit this but another quote from the diary: "Oh - another thing that makes me angry is me - I'm smoking. It's sooooo so stupid. I know that the main reason for doing it is to relieve stress (an illusion, I know) and because I want to be included. WW & Ch go out at night to smoke and I want to be out there laughing too. I want to be part of the fun. It's pathetic. Senseless."

A week ago: I just turned 39. I live in the Santa Cruz mountains with Pk. We share housing with a wonderful friend, a man, and his two children (there part time) who are 11 and 13 and their little dog, Reo. We do not get one television station up there. We share alot of music. I haven't had or wanted a cigarette for 8 months. P just told the congregation that he is transitioning and they applauded. The closest diary entry says: "Life is rich. I feel my blessings in an acute way. I don't know how else to describe it. Brook and I walked on the beach down to the rocks toward Sunset & back to the Seacliff pier where Pk made a fort. We talked of politics and people & energy & life...At the moment I just feel so grateful to be alive, to be a participant in this wild and crazy journey. It's been such an interesting time - politically, culturally, emotionally - to be a mother. Between the divorce & the transition & school & the election & Samhain & the Red Sox. So much change - so many deaths and new beginnings. How lucky I am to share all of this with Pk. We laugh and talk and go for walks. We eat together and study and listen to "This American Life" stories."

Yesterday: I LOVE Friendster! I just found my uncle Patrick, whom I haven't heard from since Mom's funeral. I found his profile and knew it had to be him so I emailed him and he emailed back: "It's your Auntie Paddy!" I LOVE his wonderful, campy personality! It's also good to be in touch with the only other gay person in our crazy, impossible-for-outsiders-to-get-family. Life is just full of surprises.

Today I drank coffee with two other Hip Mamas - all of our kids are in the same second grade class at school. We talked of our lives, our children and their crushes (isn't it a little early for this we all wondered?) - of parenting. We laughed. I played ball with Pk after school in the sunny playground surrounded by mountains. I let him drive down the driveway to our house. His feet don't reach the pedals yet.

Tomorrow I will bring Pk's friends up the mountain for a day of play. We'll stop at the Farmer's market first for organic stuff. Hopefully I can drag them away from Pokemon trading long enough to enjoy a walk in the woods. I'll drink carrot apple juice and make cookies. We'll meet up with their mother (and my good friend) Jennifer at the open mic where I will perform my Fat Girl Thoughts.

Next week I will spend the day with dear, dear William (college buddy) who will be up from West Hollywood for Thanksgiving. Pk will be with P and his grandmother until Saturday. I'll need to pack for our trip to the East Coast where we get to see beloved Bettina and Daddy and Gini. Hooray!

Next year: I am in remission. The strength of my spirit has worn that damn cancer down. I'm growing my hair long again. Pk is in Little League and loving it. I am still writing the book & have doubled my collection of music. I continue to laugh and flirt and wear black boots. I want to jump from an airplane for my 40th birthday.

In five years: I am 44. A butch man or woman has found me. S/he's a cowboy who is nice, but s/he looks real mean (Kasey Chamber's Pony song.) My tattoo sleeve is finally finished. I've got the mermaid and the butterfly and lots more stars. Pk wants to go to the movies - on a date. Isn't it too early for this? I am a little freaked out. Luckily the boys cook better than I do so we're all eating well. We visit the ocean often.

In ten years: I am 49. The house is full of teenaged boys. Their huge sneakers are everywhere and the music gets a little loud. I escape to the sanctity of my studio where I let colors wash over me, inspire me. I still need to call the publisher back & pick up my cowboy's boots from the cobbler but that can wait.

In fifteen years: I am 54. I am so glad the college has a video phone. I miss Pk's presence. I'm used to it but it's still great to see him. "I want to be called Nanna V, you know." "Yes, Mom. I know. I know. But we're not that serious yet. Geez. We want to travel!" We joke and make plans for our Thanksgiving reunion. The piece I've been working on should be done by then. I just have to tweak it a little. The house smells like apple crisp and I can see my cowboy chopping wood outside. I sigh and count my blessings. Actually, there are too many to count...To love, to nurture and to create. I'm doing what I need to do.


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