Parental Pride

My son had a dream when he left home at the age of 21 and went to LA to live. He dreamed of breaking into the music industry and making his own record label. He is now 24 1/2 and the past three years or so have helped him grow up and change in countless ways. Every new step he has taken, and every new direction he has felt led to follow, have taught me to let go as a parent, and come to terms with the constantly changing dynamics of our relationship as parent/child.


I've thought over and over through the years, how ill-prepared we are as new parents, and I often feel that way looking at those younger than I, struggling with parenting issues even now. But I naively imagined all that awkward uncertainty would finally end with a child leaving the nest and flying off to live his own life apart from the Mama Bird. I thought I'd be able to let go and allow my fledgling the space to make his own mistakes and learn from them, without my needing to add my own two cents' worth. I imagined an easy transition from active and involved mom, to one who could step back and give her child the space and respect he deserved upon moving out and establishing his independence.


I think I've achieved this imagined end, ultimately. My son is sensible (most times) and dependable, hard-working like his folks and grandfolks on both sides of his family tree, and has earned my respect as an independent young person. But each step of his growth (and mine) has been painful for me, full of highs and lows, and each step has come as a big surprise. There hasn't been an easy transition EVER; it's all been difficult, full of confusion and shock, frequently leaving a bad taste in my mouth.


Initially, having him leave and establish his own financial independence was an immense relief. I loved the silence in the house during the day; not having to listen to his latest favorite song played over and over (with his CD player set to "repeat") behind his closed door till I went crazy and yelled for him to change it. I admit I missed having someone appreciative to cook for, and I really missed our conversations, but I continued to worry about him and wonder about how things were going for him 24/7. He was so far away, and there was no easy way to check on him, to relieve my imagined 'worst case scenarios.'


I didn't have empty nest syndrome (which is where the mama can't function from the loneliness of having her precious child no longer at home), but I did have a big hole in the middle of my Life Purpose suddenly. I didn't know how to fill that hole with something else. It took a good year to allow the rest of my life to stretch and refit into normalcy again.


I have learned to let go of the ownership I felt for the choices he makes; it is his life, and a reflection of his choices. I'm finally comfortable with that. His choices continue to surprise me, perplex me, concern me and amaze me. But they are his, and he has every right to them, of course.


My most recent area of struggle has been with his making major level choices without consulting us at all. He talks things over with his good friends he's made, and we're not involved in the process one little bit. We get wind of the new direction he's headed after he's already packed his bag and left for the station! This is normal, and understandable...I'm just not used to it yet! So being the parent of an adult child is as much of a learning experience in my fifties as it was in my twenties through forties!


The latest new development in the unfolding drama of my son's life has pleased me to no end: he's taking classes at a nearby community college in LA!! He has a new dream and in order to pursue it, he is extending his education. Today I had the rare treat of hearing all about the registration, classes, teachers, classmates and homework. He's having a ball, and has discovered the joy of studying something he's actually interested in and eager to learn about. Today I'm bathed in Parental Pride, and thankful I had absolutely nothing to do with his decision to do this. It's all his, and all the sweeter because of it.

New Singing Sensation

On New Year's Eve, one of the most widely watched shows on Japanese television ("Koh Haku" literally Red, White), which is an annual competition between men and women singers divided into teams [women = red, men = white], hosted a special foreign guest, the new singing sensation, Scotland's Susan Boyle.

My husband was sitting on the sofa, using the TV remote liberally, per usual, and I was nearby playing games on the computer, not really listening with much concentration to the TV, when suddenly he says, "Susan Boyle! It's Susan Boyle!" and I said, "Who??" (not having read about her in the paper, as he had). He called me over to watch her sing on Koh Haku, so I did.

A simple woman, in a gorgeous designer gown, was standing in front of a mike, with simple make up, and not much expression on her face, singing the song "I Dreamed a Dream" (which I later learned had been the song she sang on the talent competition show in the UK, where she was first discovered). Frankly, she looked like she could be the neighbor grocer lady, or the school librarian, or an Aunt Trudy somewhere, good at baking gingersnaps. She was Anywhere Woman; she was Everyone Woman. I instantly liked her. Of course, her voice was very nice--not affected or enhanced with tricks or vocal manipulations--it was a pleasant voice, a voice you enjoyed listening to, and could listen to forever without complaint.

I used to be a singer myself, before asthma ravaged my pulmonary equipment and robbed me of the excellent breath control I used to possess. I have a sharp ear, the daughter of a woman with perfect pitch, so I tend to be critical of singers in general, and hold a rather high standard when it comes to judging the vocal talents of others. Although I do not have perfect pitch, I can tell when a voice is off, even a little fraction (sharp or flat), so I am not usually 100% satisfied with the vocal endeavors of the majority of recording artists out there. But Susan Boyle's performance that night, despite being live and in front of a foreign audience in a foreign land (for surely she was nervous!) , seemed flawless and blessed by heaven itself. I was impressed, not with "star quality" but with her excellence in simplicity.

Today the CD I ordered through my food co-op, SUSAN BOYLE I Dreamed A Dream, arrived and I'm sitting here listening to it as I type. Not every recording is perfect, but darn near close! And like a gentle hand soothing the brow of a troubled child, her voice caresses my heart and gives me peace. I feel sorry for the western world who can't hear the bonus track for Japan, "Wings to Fly," which is the best song (closely followed by "Silent Night") in my opinion.

Earlier today, during my co-op delivery, my friend told me she'd heard that Susan Boyle began shouting in a loud voice at the airport suddenly (supposedly from stress, I guess). It isn't an impossible thought, is it, for a quiet and gentle soul living with her elderly folks to suddenly have her world turn upside down by being discovered on that show, trussed up and stuck in the spotlight to sing on show after show, told where to go and when, ripped from her home and her quiet lifestyle, to reach a point where she just couldn't handle it anymore, and need to give a scream (of protest? of fatigue? from hormones, or what?). It's not an impossible thought to me, anyway, and I hope Susan Boyle is given a little more space, a little more control over what happens in her tomorrows, so that her precious drop of heaven (her voice) isn't squeezed right out of her by celebrity and all the false glitter that goes with it.

Go on and holler, Susan! Make them stop a minute and rethink what they're doing to you. Take good care of you, because you are Anywhere Woman, you are Everyone Woman. If you don't look out for yourself, no one else will do it for you, I'm afraid. Thank you for the wonderful songs on your album and this peaceful feeling in my soul which was born while listening to them.

Relationship Maintenance

Along with the joys of reuniting with old friends on Facebook, I have been inspired to reach out to other friends (who aren't on Facebook) and try to rekindle our communication flow in an effort to maintain a present-tense relationship. This isn't an easy task, as people are busy with their lives and daily schedules, having left me long ago in their memories of high school.

One friend I have "recaptured" recently, and we are making an effort this week to see how much we can continue our ongoing conversation via email exchanges, now that the work week has begun. I have plenty of free time, so I must make the larger effort, and exert the most patience in waiting for replies. I'm not complaining; I have usually done this, even when we were active friends in school, so I'm accustomed to it. It is such a thrill for me to see my email inbox hold yet another entry...perhaps it is from her, and we can take our discussion on husbands, or health issues, or work, or movies, or whatever! one step further.

God made me a born communicator. I'm never happy unless I'm connecting with someone on a genuine, heartfelt level, pouring loving energy into relationship maintenance!!

Back again, at long last, with Christmas musing...

Hi Everyone, long time, no write!

I took a three-month break from blogging, while having a love affair with Facebook. I didn't have anything significant to say here, 'cause I was so busy reconnecting with old classmates and childhood friends there. I got hooked on a few game applications as well, and then turned all my friends on to them, and THEN took the plunge into challenging them to play against me. Great fun. So much so, that I didn't have any interest in coming back to this blog and trying to articulate anything. Thus, such a long gap between posts.

Fall is always a busy time of year for me. I teach my students about the American traditions of Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas, so I find myself extra busy with parties, baking, dressing up, pulling out old photos to show, searching around for cute stickers or new books about those subjects, or making my own visual aids. Fall has passed and winter is beginning to chill the air; and I must write our yearly family Christmas letter to send out (but haven't finished yet) and get presents into the mail (I'm so behind in that!).

At Thanksgiving time, my mom went to my brother's home for a week's stay and we were able to talk via Skype. A suggestion was made that we disband the tradition of giving presents to the main group of adults (which includes everyone now, as all the kids are grown). Many years ago we began the custom of drawing names so that we'd prepare a gift for just one of the eight-to-twelve adults making up our little family circle. This tradition was nice in that every year you'd get a different person to prepare something for, and it enabled us to shower some attention and thought onto a new target. It gave you a different person to thank each year, too, extending the close feeling you shared with each, in turn. Since my husband never does anything for the holiday himself, but is perfectly content to receive a gift from a member of my family, I prepared the gift for his yearly target as well, meaning that I'd shop &/or make something for two people and most years send off two packages. I also prepare a gift package for my son, who moved out on his own in late October, 2006.

When the suggestion was offered during that Skype call that we stop giving gifts, it was said in a way that sounded like the decision was already made, and everyone seemed glad to stop it; everyone but me. It made the little girl within my heart (who looks forward to the holiday, even now, despite not decorating my home, or having anyone I live with care one way or another) feel forlorn, somehow, to think that my family can't even go to the trouble of having one of them send me a gift anymore.

And I tried to explain my feeling to my brother in an e-mail, but all I sounded was whiny, and mercenary, as though getting a present was the only way I could feel Christmas had come. Ever since, I have been mulling this over and over in my mind. Why is getting a gift so important to me? It isn't so much that I have to have a big tree, all decked out with lights (although I loved having one when my son was young) and a million packages crammed underneath. I don't have to have a Christmas brunch like my mom used to make, with fancy egg and sausage casseroles and schtollen (sp?) fruit bread baked from her mother's recipe. I don't require a big turkey dinner later in the day, or even Christmas carols playing in the background. We keep things simple. And I'm not complaining about that. It's a compromise on all the hoopla which happened traditionally at home growing up, sure, but I can live with compromise (while simultaneously envying the family back home).

But no presents? I am loathe to this idea.

In Japan, Christmas is just another working day. My husband always went downstairs to his shop and opened it for business after we'd taken turns opening our few little gifts (my parents or I had prepared for us) and had pancakes for breakfast. I never accepted jobs on the 25th; I kept the day sacred (and forced my husband to keep the morning sacred, anyway). But this year, my co-worker finally forced me to work in the afternoon on Christmas day; I can't afford to turn down the money because December is a month with a lot of payments due. But to imagine the morning without any presents? It makes me want to cry!

But why?

I still do not understand this melancholy. 2009 is the last year to get a gift from a relative other than my mom (and possibly my son, if he remembers to send me something; I'm not holding my breath!). My dad is gone; he was the big Santa in our family, buying tons of useless junk as well as the occasional useful gift, too. But all his shopping and giftwrapping and hiding gifts here and there and all his generosity just made me feel loved. Maybe it's that presents somehow equals LOVE, to me. Which is why the absence of presents and the implied apathy that goes with it, feels like a lack of esteem, somehow. Oh, I don't know...

All I know is, I'm sorry to see the tradition end. It makes me envy everyone in the states for the holiday all the more.

I Still Have a LONG Way to Go!

I got together with a class of housewives (roughly my own age) on Wednesday for an English lesson and we got on the subject of establishing a credit rating. I was citing my son's case in the states as an example of how the need to develop your own credit history is often how young people become dependent on using credit cards.

I am not a total stranger to the concept myself. I use credit cards to utilize my "speed pass" at the self-service gas station, to charge orders from a certain food co-op in Kobe, Japan, and to pay for my ETC charges. I use a debit card for ordering clothing online, although I am always nervous of potential identity theft, so keep a tight rein on how much I buy.

By nature I am as far opposite to a gambler as you can get; I am not willing to risk A SINGLE PENNY or ONE YEN COIN!!! So I tend to only go for "sure things" and "dyed-in-the-wool authenticity" for everything in my life. Typically I assumed most everyone was like me in that class of housewives, too. But I had a real surprise in store that day.

When I first came to Japan 27 1/2 years ago, EVERYONE used cash for EVERYTHING. There wasn't any checking system here (still isn't, except for traveler's checks), and people were suspicious and wary of impulsive shopping with credit cards. Then department stores began offering store cards (that incorporated a 5% discount to all purchases) to encourage sales, and many affluent housewives I knew began using such cards automatically. The 5% discount was inconsequential, in my opinion, because prices in dept. stores are marked way up to begin with, but anyway, the custom became less repugnant to the average consumer. Gradually credit card companies began their seductive campaigns to get people to use them, offering free memberships, and other perks for joining. My husband got many cards, despite my lack of interest in using them, and it wasn't until a couple of years later that we discovered some charged as much as 25,000 yen for a year's membership to continue using them. To me, even now, it's like throwing good money after bad, but my husband sees things differently and we continue on using three or four major cards at his insistence. (Oh, brother!)

When I assumed that these housewives would also be loathe to use credit in their daily lifestyles, I was shocked to find that one uses her cell phone to "beep in" the bar code of what she wants to buy at convenience stores, another uses store cards exclusively for grocery shopping and trips to the AEON-related stores, all of them were very aware of the point collecting systems (still a mystery to me) and conscientiously chose to pay bills via credit card in order to collect as many points as possible. The accrued points allowed them to buy train passes, or beer coupons, among other useful things.

Huh? What did you say??

I was flabbergasted and suddenly the odd man out. I knew young people were lulled into living on credit by the "don't bother to think it through" mentality of credit shopping, but these were women who were very industriously thinking things through!! And I hadn't even begun to learn about what had become second nature to them. It certainly gave me pause and forced me to realize I still have a lot to learn in the world of penny-pinching and beating the system at its own game.

One Year Anniversary

Well, it's been a year since I started this blog. A lot of growth has occurred in that time, regarding my understanding of blogging and what it entails. But one thing cannot be denied: I have definitely lost my passion for "talking outloud" on the web. I'm lucky if I write something once a month, these days. For those kind souls out there who were following my blog with interest and checking in often, I feel like my current pace is doing you a very grave disservice! Yet, I am less introspective and definitely less articulate; I just don't have anything to say that's worth typing. I'm afraid my honeymoon with blogging is irrefutably over.

I joined Facebook, and that's been more interesting to me lately; I've been enjoying reconnecting with childhood friends and many people I haven't seen in over 35 years. It's been a little strange--getting in touch with my far distant past. After moving to Japan, I really strove to maintain relationships with people, but in the end, I was too far away and my visits back home were stretched too far apart. The majority of friends couldn't be bothered beyond enduring receiving my Christmas newsletter. I ended up sort of choosing to leave my American past in America and move on with my life.

The birth of E-mail helped me remind people of my existance to some degree, but Facebook has been more rewarding because we can show photos, leave our comments on others' pages, join groups, research stuff, get organized with the help of many applications, and feel closer to MANY folk I used to have a really strong bond with B.J. (before Japan). The only catch is they have to be on Facebook, too!

An interesting phenomenon has occurred, though, in the midst of "speaking" to old pals in junior high and such...I find myself going right back into my little insecure psyche again. At the ripe old age of 51 I'm chewing my fingernails anxiously wondering if this or that person has decided I'm too weird or straight or religious or verbose to continue a correspondence with me. I'm a tangle of insecure knots. Very distasteful. NOT something I want to be a part of my adult existance!! I paid my dues from 1965-1979. Enough of that, already!

I want to be happy with myself!

A New Adventure in Cyberspace

Recently I'm exploring the SNS called Facebook. I recently joined without even meaning to, just by checking out my son's url link shared in Mixi, a Japanese SNS. It was all in Japanese, and since I can't read kanji perfectly, wasn't even sure what I was clicking "yes" to, half the time. Before I knew it, I had my own page and the computer was automatically sending out invitations to all the people in my email address to add me to their list of FB friends. It was kind of daunting, frankly, but having already navigated Mixi three years ago, I didn't immediately panic, and have been able to roll with the punches as they've come. (It also helped when I changed the language to English!)

A real motivation in this effort, of course, is getting connected to a variety of old friends...or distant friends; or making new friends, and getting to correspond with this palette of people who weren't accessible two weeks ago! I'm always hungry for correspondents...I can't get enough human contact EVER, so social-networking sites are one form of technology I consider user-friendly!

I was reading an old Entertainment Weekly magazine the other day and happened upon an article written about how Facebook had undergone a "face lift" in March of this year (news to me!), and how awful everyone was finding it, as a result. Having nothing to compare the newly designed format to, I am relatively satisfied. Ignornace is bliss, as they say.

I got very excited today when an influx of messages appeared in my email inbox, all reporting on lots of Facebook activity. Since I use the computer as a stress-diffuser most of the time, having a new "toy" to play with in cyberspace has been awfully nice. Since an old high school friend had tracked me down, and another pal had just gotten married and shared his wedding/honeymoon photos in an album, I had fun today reconnecting with two more fellow c-space explorers!