Memories

My cousin and I were talking tonight about old, old memories in our lives.

Growing up, I had a situation that was incredibly unique at the time (and that still is a bit unique nowadays), in which my parents each had children from a previous spouse, only had me together, married when I was three, and divorced one another when I was four.

My siblings on my mom’s side not only lived in the same neighborhood as I did, but my mom and I were regularly at their dad’s house, spending time with them and, even, their dad, who was my mom’s first husband, but with whom my mom was no longer involved in such a relationship.

My siblings on my dad’s side moved to Georgia (until they kind of moved back, off and on, one by one, starting when I was about nine), and so were only around for certain holidays and for what I guess to have been about a month each summer.

My cousin pointed out that she remembered being often at the place my mom and I lived for many years together after she split up from my dad, the one that was in the neighborhood with my brothers and their dad.

I, too, recalled that they often were there visiting us, and we often were at their house (two hours away, by the way) visiting them.

She then presented the interesting and confounding concept of accepting the idea of someone seeing one’s cousins more often than seeing one’s own siblings…, because that’s really how it was in the first decade and a half of my life, so far as my mom’s sister’s children and my dad’s children were concerned.

I have many more memories from earlier childhood with those cousins than I do with my siblings on my dad’s side.

Certainly, I saw my brothers from my mom all the time, almost daily…, but my cousins were, as I can pull up old school activities and projects to show, some of my favorite people in the world, and they were often on my mind, because I saw them often…, such was not the case with my siblings on my dad’s side.

Sure, I cared about them, and I had spectacular memories from the brief time we all spent in the same house when my parents were married to one another, but I really think we could say that I had more a relationship with and attitude towards them that people have with cousins, rather than one with siblings.

So, my half brothers were like my brothers, my cousins were like my half siblings, and my other half siblings were like my cousins… relationship- and attitude-wise, anyway.

Kind of crazy, huh?

I hadn’t really ever thought much about it, because, as my cousin also pointed out tonight, it can be amazing what kinds of things we just accept as children, not concerned in the least about whether they are uncommon or absurd.

I guess the absurdity doesn’t surprise me, of course, because, well, even now, absurd is normal in my life, as this same cousin so graciously pointed out to me a few years ago. 😛

Post-a-day 2019

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Quality time with Mom

“Go,” she says.

“With what?”

She points at the tv show that was paused long before she arrived, and which has yet to be referenced.

“We’re Talking,” I declare, happy, but a bit indignant.

“I’m done,” she says back, chomping on a cracker.

Uh!…”

And we both crack up into laughter at the absurdity of our conversation.

Times like these make it all worth while, visiting my mom. 😛

Post-a-day 2018

Africa

I’ve started singing lately in an unknown language that sounds African… it reminds me of Swahili at times, or Zulu or Sotho or Xhosa…, but also totally not those… no matter what, though, it always sounds African to me….

And it has me wonder if it is linked at all to that deep-seated longing I have to live with the lions in Africa (or something to that effect)… perhaps, as I was considering tonight, I was in Africa in a previous (or another) life, and perhaps that was when my mom was Indian, and we somehow met through that proximity, and agreed to have this life together…

Wouldn’t that be neat…?

P.S. If you aren’t aware, look up an audio pronunciation of the language name Xhosa… I first heard it spoken aloud in the audiobook of Nelson Mandela’s A Long Walk to Freedom, and I loved it almost instantly.

Post-a-day 2018

Life

The Universe gives us exactly what we need, exactly when we need it.

Period.

Today, I needed a reminder of the magic that abounds, and I was granted that reminder thoroughly and beautifully.

I was even declared an interpreter by someone who didn’t even know that languages are a prominent part of my life, nor that I know more than one language.

And, on my way home this evening, just to let myself free in having fun, I sang a free-flowing song in a language I don’t entirely understand (yet, anyway)…. and it, too, was magical.

Yes, today has been magical, magic-filled from the Universe.

Thank you

Post-a-day 2018

late-night chatter

Tonight, I share an exchange I had with my mother on the late-night ride home tonight, as a sort of appetizer for what is to come soon regarding mistaken words spoken aloud:

Mom: “[…] and I had several many [phone] calls…”
Hannah: “How many calls did you have?”

And then we both totally cracked up as she tried desperately to answer, but couldn’t even get the whole word several out, and I commented that she had clearly used the quantification of the phrase ‘huge big’.

Post-a-day 2018

Crazy, but creative

Sometimes, getting creative can be useful not only for the immediate goal, but also for a secondary but equally important one.  You see, I didn’t have all my steps in for the day (based on my step goal on my fabulous FitBit) this evening, and so I was pacing forward and backward while talking with my mom.  She told me that it was just too weird that I was doing that – literally walking forward and then reversing, while still facing and talking with her – and that I needed to stop walking like that.  And so, I got creative.  I walked at least five different ways that did not involve a forward-backward trek, and asked my mom how each one was.  On the really fast shuffled steps, neither one of us could hold it together – it was just too funny.  And so, by being creative and silly, I not only moved my step count closer to my step goal for the day, but I also created an opportunity for my mom and me to bond a little bit more.  Mind, body, and soul are doing well.  Healthy on all fronts tonight!  😛

Post-a-day 2018

Being Beautiful & Powerful

Here, I will paraphrase a piece of a conversation I had with my mother this evening.

……………………

Mom: You are living in a culture that doesn’t see that as normal.
Hannah: And I am simply one of the frontrunners of the movement, actively working to have it be something that is seen as normal.

…………………..

It was a conversation we had while dancing at the food truck event in a neighborhood.  It was casual and fun, and we both chuckled during the conversation.  And we both meant what we said.  It felt good to state definitely that I am part of a movement.  It sounds silly to me now, but the fact that it sounds silly is kind of exactly why I am part of it.  And it is not only a powerful statement, but it is fun.

Pictures to come in the future, and hopefully in the very near future.  🙂

Post-a-day 2018