Million Dollar Baby

Have any of you seen this movie?  If you haven’t, it stars Clint Eastwood and Hillary Swank. Eastwood owns a place where guys learn to box and he used to be a boxing coach. Swank wants to learn how to box and wants Eastwood to be her coach.  Long story short, she’s so eager to learn and such a sweet kid (and also perhaps reminds Eastwood of the daughter he lost way back when), that he agrees to be her coach. Swank thrives and is winning matches, however there is a terribly unfortunate accident in the ring where she hits her head on a small stool and is paralyzed from the neck down.

Eastwood is the only person in her life and vice versa and they are very close.  Swank’s life has been reduced to sitting in a room looking out the window when Eastwood isn’t reading to her.  She tries to kill herself the only way she possibly can at this point and that’s by biting off her tongue (which she tries to do twice). Finally, she begs him to shoot her up with enough medicine to put her out of her emotional and physical misery because, in her mind, she’d rather be dead than live like that.

My question is:  what would you do in that circumstance?  Would you do that for a loved one, if they begged you?

Coffee, Tea, or…Not

Just got back from Starbuck’s coffee house with my decaf-latte-tall-extra-extra-hot in my hand and was literally moaning at how good it tasted.  The white creamy foam was sweetened with the tons of sugar I’d mixed in, the coffee not too strong yet lightly evident.  I loved it.  It’s a treat I don’t allow myself every day.  At $2.75, although it costs less than the almost $5 a gallon I pay for gas, I don’t buy a cup every single day.

My sister-in-law drinks tea.  Lipton tea.  I could understand if she drank some exotic blend of Jasmine with Peppermint Root or something, but Lipton?   I don’t know how she finds that tasty when compared to the luscious treats you can drink at Starbuck’s and Peet’s.  There’s just something special about the scent that assails your senses when you walk into a buzzing coffee house.  There’s no comparison to the Folger’s crystals that you scoop out of the glass jar and add hot water, at home.

What’s your preference?  Coffee?  Tea?  Or…?

What Have I Done For You Lately?

My son turned 18 on March 15th.  He’s not the most independent young person I’ve ever known.  As a matter of fact, he’s not independent at all.  Not to turn this into one of those rants about “back in MY day”, HOWEVER, when I was his age I had applied to numerous colleges, selected which college I’d be attending, had already decided to study in Europe for my junior year, picked a major, and was applying for scholarships and financial aid.

My son has no idea what he’s doing “today”.  Tomorrow is a word he can barely say, and he certainly doesn’t understand the meaning of the word “future”.  If a scholarship essay is due tomorrow, he’ll start on it the previous evening.  Everything is “last minute”, rushed, and therefore never looked over twice or edited or thought about for more than a few minutes.  Preparedness does not exist in his vocabulary.

Therefore, I find myself helping him get everything done on time.  Is this enabling him or should I just let him fall on his face until he “gets it”?  Of course when he was growing up I did everything for him.  Duh.  He was a kid.  But he’s still a kid.  He is no more prepared for life on his own now than he was when he was 3 years old.  These past two years we’ve been trying to “prepare” him for life in the big people’s world and although he says we treat him like a baby, he doesn’t manifest any behavior indicating that he’s any older than a toddler.

This entire head discussion I’ve been having with myself was prompted by his telling me last night that I never make him any meals any more.  THAT was prompted by the fact that his 13-year-old sister has been sick for the last 5 days with a high fever and a cough and I’ve had to do everything for her.  He sees me being the maid for her and wanted the same.  And I thought to myself, what the heck is he talking about?  I’ve done everything for him for most of his life and he’s complaining that I don’t fix him dinners any longer?  Could it be because he’s never around and doesn’t call to tell me whether he’s even coming home for dinner anyway?  Or could it be that every time I set dinner down on the table he screws up his face and says he won’t eat it.

Hello?  Do I feel under-appreciated or what?

Life After School

Well, I never thought I’d see the day on the near horizon.  My son is graduating high school and my daughter is leaving middle school behind.  Just as Dylan walks out the educational door after thirteen years, Allessandra enters four years of high school in preparation for college.

I think they’re both happy they’ll never be in the same school at the same time, but I’ll miss dropping one off and then the other, every morning, no matter how boring it seems sometimes.  I think what makes this so hard is that you know your kids have to go to grammar school, middle school, then high school.  But after that?  There’s no telling.

So, I’m going through the fear for my son’s future coupled with the excitement for my daughter’s new school life.  Both are scary.  I want him to discover what he wants to do with his life and I don’t want her to grow up too fast during those four years of high school.

She’ll be stepping into her teen years and preparing for college.  He’s not so sure about college and his chances of landing a decent job without college are slim.  What to do?  All we can do is guide them but there comes a time when they have to make the decision.  He’s on the fence about college.  Does he want to study for four long years, coming out the other side without the promise of a job either?

Times are so different.  I know, my age is showing.  But when I went to college there was no doubt I would claim the prize of a job on the other side.  For both of them, who knows?

And the worrying continues.  It never ends.

Death and Birthdays

Yeah, I know, weird title for a blog post.  But March 3rd was my mother’s birthday.  She would have been 87 years old.

And now I’ll reveal something that may cause you to really think I’m whacked.  She died in January 2008 and every March 3rd I send her a Jacquie Lawson e-card for her birthday and I write everything I’d like to tell her if she were alive.

I tell her about my husband’s job, my son Dylan getting to be 6-feet 2-inches tall and going to college in September, about Allessandra’s great grades and her wonderful personality, about our two chocolate labs Annabella and Jack who she was so fond of, and of course I let her in on the news that I became an author – yippee- and wish she could have been around for the pub date.

So, everyone asks me, “Where do you send the e-card, Patti?  Hello?”  Well, I send it to my e-mail address and then archive it in the file labeled “mom”.  That’s easy, eh?  For some reason it makes me feel like I’ve communicated with her more than if I go to the cemetery and talk to her ashes, you know?

What do you do on the day of your loved ones’ birthdays?