Heritage Part Two, or I love my Aunts

I was going to stop right there, but I got the new Robin Thicke album and he is so silky smooth.  And, its the deluxe album because it was only two bucks more.  As a footnote, blogger freezes all the time as it auto saves, so as I typed that first line it read, "I got the new Robin Thicke bum and he is so silky smooth." 


My experience with packing is far different from K and his mom.  While they are packing everything that that they would need to survive and thrive in Washington, I am ready to take a backpack and two dogs.  The dogs are lucky that they calmed down and stopped freaking out on each other as I typed that too, because earlier in the night the backpack was looking good by itself.  They (meaning K and his mom), have moved many, many times and have thus developed a defense mechanism in a way.  Pack more, hold onto what you can, and bring items that will remind you of what you had.  Plus, they have nice shit.  So, I don't blame them. 

Ok, that dog and backpack comment is unrealistic because I just remembered that I have a car and a TV.  And nursing books that I should probably reference someday.  And clothes from NY and co which I have to make last forever because they don't have those in Washington. 



My heritage hails from Washington though, so I know I can find what I need when I get there. 

and

My heritage is kind of all over the place right now.  Parts of me are in Colorado, Nebraska, Oregon, Texas, and Australia.  People I love and who have formed me into this person are all over the world.  They are reachable by phone and social media.  I'm use to them being away.  I'm use to not having something visible in front of me that I need to pack.  Someone else is holding onto those things in those places.


Maybe that's my own defense mechanism. 



I'm use to them being far away and have adapted to that.  While K and his mom had family within a 3 hour drive and spent holidays with family members circulating from one house to the next, we had family that you could count on one hand. 

This October, we had family members circulating through our house.  And it was fabulous.  My history was not just found in boxes and pictures, but was living, breathing, and hugging right in front of me.  Godparents were present to tell college stories about my parents.  Cousins were together, realizing that as a group, yeah we look like we belong to one another. 


My favorite moment was when my Aunt told me that it was nice to be able to be an Aunt that week.  And, then, bam, defense mechanism realized.  I hail from a small family, but wholly I am much, much more.  Wholly, I need these people, just as K needs what he needs. 


This post does have a point.  And, I'm getting to it. 


Wait. For. It. 


I'm trying to think. 


OK, I got it:

This came in the mail over the Summer.  From my Aunts.  I saw them four years ago during the move to PA.  We reconnected at the wedding.  In the meantime, they started putting my story together.  The story of our family and where we hail from.  This is from either my grandma's or great grandma's quilt.  Each of the five cousins will receive one when they get married.  I'm the first and I am incredibly proud.  I am connected.

(I love my Aunts.) 


I guess my point is, you take your heritage with you.  However much you want to bring along, whatever parts of it, whatever it looks like, its up to you to bring it along.  It is found in pictures, newspaper articles, letters from wars, handkerchiefs, quilt squares, and cities.  But, it is also in the way that you say your prayers, bake your bread, drink your beer, tell your stories, spend your weekends, and make your choices. 

Sometimes, you find it when your family opens up an old shoe box or sends you a piece of history in the mail.

Sometimes, its when you try something new and decide its good enough to make a tradition. 

And, sometimes, you find your heritage, and yourself, when you do something very daring and leave all that you knew behind. 



 At least, that's what happened to me.

Heritage

We are in the midst of packing boxes and sorting things into piles of keep, throw, donate, and why did I ever buy this.  We are opening closets, finding mostly dust and dryer sheets stuck to mismatched socks, but also the occasional glimpse into history.  Newspaper clippings, cherished letters and cards, and pictures of people who I will never get to meet but I know they are important anyway.  Tonight, I sat on the floor and stuffed bags for Goodwill, and memorized the names of the siblings of K's grandma tonight.  There were 13 of them and now there are two.  From those 13, well, there's a whole lot and trust me, after putting together addresses for our wedding, I know most of them now. 

It's important to know who's who and who belonged to who.  Not just because I want to send Christmas cards to the right person next year, but because it's his family and now I'm his family.  And he's mine, so in turn, they're mine as well.  There comes a sense of responsibility when you get married.  I guess that's one of the biggest things to experience.  A responsibility to be present, to be aware, and to be grateful for the history and the culture of your love's family. 

At the same time, K hails from a large family but was raised by a single mom away from that family.  His mom grew up around a lot of people and he had that experience only on visits.  It was, for the most part, just them.  And, that is part of his history too.  So, as I sat on the floor tonight packing why did I ever buy this clothing into donation bags, they started to compile what they needed for the next phase in their life.  Away from Pennsylvania, and onward to Seattle. 

In between packing, we start to say good-bye.  A good-bye that is difficult for myself as well.   We started our relationship a long time ago, but we formed it in PA.  Several parts of PA, parts that we won't be able to reach out and grab once we move.  These parts will always be important to us and crucial to who we are as a couple.  We'll find new parts in Washington, but little bits of our heart will always remain behind in PA. 

This week, we travelled to Pittsburgh for an overnight stay.  It was mostly to watch hockey, which we did very well, but quietly it was to say good-bye to the place that K considers his hometown.  This city is the core of his soul.  The people, the culture, the sports, the taste, the style, the air of the city is what he is all about.  I love Pittsburgh because I love my husband. 

So, we drove around to all of our old stops.  We whispered our farewells in our heads and decided not to look in the rearview window because it would sting.  He showed me a couple of new places, kind of the last hoorah as tour guide for the time being. 

When I moved here, I was heartbroken and desperate for a glimpse of home.  I started blogging because I wanted to push myself to find Seattle wherever I was.  Once we move,  we will start to look for slices of K and his heritage in my fine city.  We will search for the loudest Steeler bar (readers, they are everywhere), scout Polish shops for purple hued horseradish, ask deli butchers if they have kishka, put welcome candles on our windowsills, and travel to Vancouver anytime the Pens play the Canucks.  We will wear the same tshirt every Sunday during football season and we will always have one foot in the great Commonwealth somehow.  We will find Pittsburgh in Seattle and wherever we go. 

Same Old

Its good to be back, and I mean that in the way that I am talking to myself.

As in, "hello Old Me.  I'm not going to question where you've been, its just nice to have you here." 

and

"Why thank you, its definitely good to be back."




Its been a busy year.  And, that is an understatement.  Its been a busy year of planning, adjusting, surviving, thriving, and mostly going through the motion.   Last week I finished my notice at work and I counted down the seconds until I could regroup and recharge.  I did this before I moved to Pennsylvania. I moved back home for a couple of weeks, spent my days cooking and walking barefoot on cool grass, preparing myself for the next chapter in my life.  It was a bittersweet experience, as this will be, I suspect.

Too often, our life experience and changes catapult from one to another.  We jump from let down to let down, or high to high, and don't really take a breath and take in what just happened.  Maybe we're anxious to get to the "what's next?".  Maybe we're afraid of what will happen if we slow down.  I knew that I needed these next couple of weeks so that I'm in the right place when we move.  No agenda, no plan, no blueprint.


Instead, crafting.

 
And stuffing boxes for people I love, then reopening the boxes because I forgot something. 


Instead, backyard lights.

They're a whole two years old and they're definitely showing their age.  But, I kinda like them better like this. 


Instead, backyard fires.  Something I thought I had already said good-bye to in PA.  Mild weather is hanging around a little bit longer, despite our unexpected surprise in October.  

Instead, long walks with Lilly.  Just like we use to do. 

Instead, late night writing, because that's when the getting got good.  That's when my synapses fired their best.  There's something about the dark sky, a hard rain, and a puppy under the blankets next to me that sparks the best writing.  And, although I know that I'm not at my prime right now, this is all still good because it represents. 

It's all good, because I feel like myself again.  The last year was the best, and the wedding was amazing, but its nice to get in the groove again and to just be.  And to record that being. 



We're in a major transition period right now, but I feel calm.  I feel present.  I feel prepared and I feel sure.  I feel like right now we should be marking boxes, but we should also be sitting in the backyard, drinking scotch and smoking cigars.  We should be sitting around the fire, laughing, telling stories from our day, as a light rain hits our sweatshirt hoods. 

Because, that's going to be part of our life out there too, so why wait?

Blog Think

I think this is going to work, this new bloggity blog thing I created last night.  It's already getting the creative juices flowing. Here I am, night two, laptop on my lap (how creative), sleeping dog next to me, and type type type. 


"But......." my mom asks, "what will happen to the other blog?  It won't be deleted will it?"  Slight panic in her voice. 

Its out there, and you can read it if you want, or you can start fresh.  Its up to you.  But, no, mom, it's not going anywhere. 

"It's like a diary for your kids to read someday." 

Well, yes, in a way. 

I've been blog thinking lately.  If you have a blog, then you know what blog thinking is.  Or, I completely made that up and no one else shares this phenomenon with me.  Its not a phenomenon, its just a form of talking to yourself in the way that you would type. 

It comes in spurts.  Like an hour and a half, or 45 minutes sometimes.  You're in the middle of chaos or just by yourself and you start organizing your thoughts as if you would be blogging them later. 

And, its about totally useless crap. 

"I find myself actually being happy in this moment--this moment of ive-only-got-three-more-days-of-this-job and yet it feels good to work an extra hour.  Like, I'm running the last leg of the marathon and I'm going to get a t-shirt soon." 

"Now, I wear cowboy boots rather than flats.  For two reasons: its cold and they remind me of my honeymoon.  Three reasons: young girls like to wear tight jeans and uggs here, so I'll up the ante and wear not really tight jeans and cowboy boots." 

"There's that moment, when you step into the bath, and you get pissed off because you didn't stay on top of the water temperature and now its cold.  So begins the now its too cold, now its too hot, now its too full, now I'm just wasting water battle." 

"Maybe I'll actually write a "I swear I'd give anything just to move back and do this" list. But, all I can think about is men saying 'Id give my left nut to/for that' and that doesn't help at all. "



Mostly, blog think is about those little parts of your day which wouldn't amount to anything if you sat down and wrote about them.  But, for me, its a good sign.  Its a sign that at least there's a desire to write and a desire to share what I write about. 

My page views are higher this time.  Like, by ten people.  Yes.  But, then I think about how on my last blog, my two most popular posts were "Big Ass Seattle Post" and my "Mountain Porn" series, in which I would post a picture of a mountain. 

"I don't really get it."   My mom would say, slightly panic voice again. 

"We don't have mountains here in Pennsylvania." 


"...."

"Its a joke."


I may have to go back and look at those pictures now.  I need my fix. 

Greetings From...Pennsylvania

I'm still here.  I'm starting my new blog on the East Coast.  Does that make me a traitor or just desperate to get going? 

This is my new blog.  It's my grown-up, you're going places, so you better check your grammar before hitting publish, all about Seattle, and all about the next phase of my life blog.  It already feels a little bit different.  I have to admit: I'm kind of nervous about this.  K and I were sitting in a bar tonight, eating chicken wings and stromboli, and I said out loud I want to get serious about blogging.  And he said, okay then you better get serious.  So, I came home, turned on the Seahawk game and spent way too long trying to figure out how to change the colors and the layout of a new blog. 

And, now here it is. 

So, I'm kind of nervous because this could be big or this could be just like the old blog.  Not that there was anything wrong with that old blog. It was a stream of consciousness thing that helped me get through some hard times and let me revel in the good ones. It let me gush about cute dogs and glorious Summer tomatoes.  It allowed me to complain about the things that I didn't like about Pennsylvania, while I discovered some things that I will actually miss.  It was good for me.

But, this little blog will be a whole lot more.  It will be about my home and about our struggles and accomplishments in a new setting.  It will be about what it feels like coming back to Washington and why I really missed it.  It will be about me in a new light.  It will most likely be something that I haven't even thought of yet.
I started Fish Out of Water when I was home sick and I couldn't find my own version of Mt. Rainier when I moved to PA.  I renamed it Everyday Happenings when I felt comfortable enough to be myself anywhere that I was.  Now, ImWashington.com represents a new era of blogging in which I hope to connect to others through my experiences in Washington both in person and online.

To my loyal fans, my trio of followers, do not fret. I will still blog about gardens, puppies, and what its like to be married to a Steelers fan.  That part of me will never change.  This blog, however, will not reflect the ebb and flow of my moods or relationships.  It stays positive or it gets deleted.



Welcome to ImWashington.com.  I hope this blog inspires you to discover my home and yours, wherever it may be.