Hatters Gonna Hat, Part 2

Coincidentally the only hat I brought with me to Buffalo has a similar origin story to the one I wrote about yesterday, which my mother-in-law gave to me. When my high school friend, Amy, was in town back in the spring, she too presented me with a handmade cap. “I thought you would like this,” she explained, and I did. 

“I made it for myself,” she continued, “but I hated it.”

I laughed and placed it on my head so that she could snap a photo. Afterwards, it sat out by itself, because all the winter gear had already been stored away for the season. And when I packed for this trip, the cold weather stuff was still in the attic, but for the gloves in the jacket pockets and my hand-me-down hat from Amy, so I put it on and headed north.

And I know that even though they didn’t start out that way, both hats were clearly meant for me.

Hatters Gonna Hat

"Did you see the hat I made you?" Heidi's mom asked when I had been here a day. 

I had seen the floppy green knit beanie, and I had tried it on, too. It was soft and comfortable, and I would have worn it, but for the warm-ish weather. 

"Yes! Thank you," I replied. "I love it!"

"Well good," she nodded, "because it looked terrible on me!"

The Show Must Go On

“Don’t you get bereavement time?” Heidi’s mother asked incredulously as Heidi scrambled to finish sub plans and grades for her 4 different preps and 5 classes in between appointments with the funeral director and the cemetery and after 2 days of visiting hours at the funeral home.

“Well, we get personal leave,” Heidi explained, “but the work is still there. The kids keep coming to school, whether we are there or not.”

But really, her mom should have understood, after being married to the chief of umpires. For Heidi’s dad, there was no such thing as a real summer vacation for 39 years. Every where he went, especially after the advent of mobile phones, he would be on call and responsible for making sure some of the 10,000 games he assigned a year were staffed. And if it was raining in Buffalo? We knew about it wherever we happened to be in the country.

Extended Family

I was at a bit of a loss at the wake for Heidi's dad yesterday. Heidi stood by her mom receiving those who had come to pay their respects, while her brother greeted people at the door and roved the room talking to mourners he knew and recognized. There were plenty of comfortable chairs for me, and I did say hello to an uncle and a couple cousins, but it was Heidi's mom's sister and her family who came to my rescue. 

Kathy waved me over to sit in the chairs with them, and we chatted amiably and watched the slide presentation over and over. We also giggled every time a certain photo rolled past. Somehow a glamour shot of her had gotten mixed in with the family pictures that were scanned for the presentation, so every 10 minutes or so, in between all the pictures of Gary, we saw a soft-focus picture of Kathy from 30 years ago all done up and dressed in red feathers and sequins. 

At the end of the evening, I thanked her for keeping me company. "That's okay," she told me. "What are aunts for?"

Brain Work

Since I arrived up here in Buffalo, I have been feeling anxious about keeping up with my schoolwork and responsibilities; it's not an easy thing for a teacher to be away for a week and a half, no matter what the situation.

They say that dreaming is a tool that the brain uses to regulate emotions, address fears, and consolidate memories. Whether or not that's true, my subconscious is working overtime up here.

Last night I dreamed I was on a field trip, but it was strange in the way that dreams are. Things were lost, I got my feet all wet when I stepped into a bog, and kids turned into kittens who wanted to run away. After I woke up and cleared my head, the second half of the night I dreamed of prefixes and test questions, un- means not, mis- means wrong, dis- means do not, super- means over and above.

It was unrestful, disconcerting, misdirected, and super-stressful. 

And those kittens!

Darkness Savings Time

It's easy to lose track of days and time when there is a death in the family. All week long we've been asking each other what day it is.

"Think about it," I said to Heidi who knows what day, "the last "normal" day was Tuesday, and that was Halloween, which is not very normal at all."

But when I opened my computer just a while ago and got that calendar reminder that Daylight Savings Time ends early tomorrow morning, I was floored to realize I had completely forgotten one of my favorite days of the year, the one with 25 hours.

Edit Yourself

As word gets out about Gary’s death, messages of condolences are coming in. Most are lovely, along the lines of this one: Oh what a loss! My heart is broken. Love to you and your family.

But then there are the ones you have to scratch your head over, like this one: Wow! What a shocker. Condolences on your loss, but he was very sedentary.