Sunday, February 28, 2010

Sewing a Family History

So we got back this afternoon. After 3 days in supposed crime ridden Oakland, we came back to the stereo stolen out of our car parked in N Portland near the Max. Mostly it's just an annoyance. They'll be disappointed at its retail price. I'd like to think that all the taco bell cups I had strewn about the car made their process more difficult. Zach and I kept looking at the hole hoping it'd tell us the time. (It didn't.) The whole thing has provided a lot of jokes. I'd like to use the newly realized space for an in car fish tank. Terrible idea or pure genius. You decide.

Four days with an assortment of family left my limbs feeling like loose buttons hanging off an old sweater. Maybe my expectations were too high. Maybe I hoped of a repeat of the incredible experience Z and I felt at my maternal grandfather's memorial service. We discovered a family we never knew we had. I hoped for a similar story here with these cousins, but something about 30 plus members of our truly extended family shoved into my grandparents home was less than conducive to how I connect with people. So yeah. Fail. I spent most of the 5 hours making surface chit chat and being recognized by people whose names I could barely place. The only hiding spot was our single rental car. I watched as other cousins bonded and my sister had a great time interacting with her favorite uncles while I was nothing but awkward. The uncle I interacted with the most just proved that I officially don't like him. Officially. Again.

Buttons hanging off for dear life.

Z was my thread. He ran interference between me and my family. He told me not to feel bad when I crept toward the car yet again. I hope some day I can provide the same service although Z's reaction to groups or family is healthier than mine. I'll be honest, I'm disappointed with myself. When we got back from the reception I said 2 words to my sister and Zach and quickly prepped for bed and then laid there isolated by headphones while Z and my sister continued in conversation for 45 minutes. I wish I had her social stamina. I wish I was an extrovert. But I am not. I am not at all. And my brain needs a certain sort of reprieve that it couldn't get b/c there was no place where I could just be alone. We shared a hotel room with my sister so I could never just tune out the world and recharge. I can now do that with Z in the room, but he is the only other human being that truly allows my brain that. Family provides the exact opposite. Over stimulation of emotions and assessment. Family kicks my brain up to a level of sensitivity that I don't know how I survived as a child. Maybe I developed this relationship to them later in life. I don't know.

I could have kissed the carpet when we opened the door onto our apartment. Z had the brilliant suggestion of me working from home tomorrow and I am doing exactly that. And after 4 nights of terrible sleep I am going to bask in delicious unconsciousness here in our own bed.

I may write more later of some of the social interactions I witnessed and the service itself. It was lovely. Grandma clearly had a huge positive impact on lives all around her. Although with every positive story, I could hear a very different story echo within the mind of my Mom. A different story indeed.

2 comments:

  1. I love "my limbs feeling like loose buttons hanging off an old sweater". That's exactly how my body has been feeling this past week (my back to be exact, like one big button.) But I couldn't put it into words the way you just did.
    I totally know what you mean about social over-stimulation. Glad you're home.

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  2. We have strengths too. Rich, enviable strengths. You wished to be alone, needed to be alone. You are a strong introvert and therefore crave the time in your own brain where you can reflect. Yes you are drained by groups of people...but imagine being an extrovert...a strong extrovert often fears that alone time...fills it with noise...a phone call, instant messaging or loud music as a last resort. They do not have the rich luxury of being at home in their own head, reflecting, recharging, wandering through their own mind for hours at a time.

    I know it would be so convenient in some circumstances to be an extrovert, to not have a finite amount of energy for other people to take just by their presence...to instead be recharged by their presence. But there's a trade off there that I for one wouldn't be willing to make. Every hour without people around would drain you one grain at a time. At first it would be fine, but no one would answer their phone that night for some reason, you'd find yourself messaging people you barely knew, maybe didn't even like on FB for no good reason. Writing about suicide a poet once wrote "Your mind's a dangerous neighborhood: don't go there alone." I feel fairly certain she was an extrovert.

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