This is NOT a music-related post. (I have to post that disclaimer, as two of the four regular readers of this blog don’t like my musical musings.)
Michelle Zauner is the leader of the band Japanese Breakfast. I’m a huge fan. (Their new album comes out soon!)
But she also wrote a very moving memoir about loss – her book Crying in H Mart. When her mother was diagnosed with cancer, Michelle left her East Coast band and flew back to her childhood home in Eugene, Oregon, to take care of her mom during her final months. And as a Korean-American who lost not just her mom but her connection to her Korean heritage, Michelle feels the grief quite intensely.
I can sorta-kinda relate. I’m not mixed race like Michelle, but my mom was first generation Italian-American. And when she passed away, I lost that connection to the Italian part of my heritage. I was lucky enough to spend some quality time with my Italian aunts (Rosetta and Inez) growing up, but chances are my feelings of “Italian-ness” would be much stronger had my mom not passed away when I was so young.
I hadn’t thought about that a lot, until I listened to Michelle speak about her book at Cincinnati’s Mercantile Library earlier this week.
I found myself getting a bit misty-eyed when she talked about the sense of not just maternal loss but also cultural loss. And I started to think that I’m not just a fan of Michelle’s band, but also a kindred spirit with her.
Then. later in the week, I saw this quote:
It is essential for us to welcome our grief, whatever form it takes. When we do, we open ourselves to our shared experiences in life. Grief is our common bond. Opening to our sorrow connects us with everyone, everywhere.
— Francis Weller
Yes, I’m a kindred spirit with Michelle Zauner. And with you. And with everyone who has suffered loss… which is “everyone, everywhere.”
Grateful Living has a monthly series called “Grateful Gatherings.” As fate would have it, the focus for March is “Grief & Gratefulness.” Here’s another Francis Weller quote:
“Gratitude is the other hand of grief. It is the mature person who welcomes both. To deny either reality is to slip into chronic depression or to live in a superficial reality. Together they form a prayer that makes tangible the exquisite richness of life in this moment. Life is hard and filled with suffering. Life is also a most precious gift, a reason for continual celebration and appreciation.”
Amen to that!
The Grief & Gratefulness resources are here. Should you find yourself crying in H Mart, or in the Mercantile Library, or anywhere, really, they could come in handy.
The Mercantile Library is an absolute gem in the Queen City. It’s been open since 1835, but recently completed a remodel that adds much more cool space to what already was the city’s best haven for “readers, writers, and thinkers” as their website says. Michelle Zauner this past Tuesday, Curtis Sittenfeld this past Friday… with Timothy Egan, Crystal Wilkinson, Ada Limón, Colson Whitehead, Kaveh Akbar, and Lauren Groff still on tap this year, along with several other authors, plus book clubs, poetry readings, yoga, and so much more.
It’s a membership library, but the low cost would be worth it just to hang out in their space, and membership gets you early (and often free) access to the author events.
Seth Godin published the post below a couple of weeks ago. But it’s perfect for the gift-giving and gift-getting extravaganza that will happen in most homes tonight and tomorrow:
The things under the tree are just things. And what you already have — especially if you have family and friends — is more than enough.
It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled ’till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more?
Our youngest child, Andrew, is a sophomore at Indiana University. The Hoosiers, smack-dab in the middle of the hoops hotbed of the Midwest, are not exactly a football powerhouse.
The Hoosiers have not won more than eight games in a season since 1967, which is the last year they won the Big Ten and/or played in the Rose Bowl. However, they have lost eight or more games 12 times in the 2000s.
But this year is different. They were 7-0 heading into this past Saturday’s matchup with their longtime Big 10 18 rival… Wisconsin Washington.
We bought tickets to the game for our whole fam-damily a month ago… not caring about the product on the field as much as looking for a chance to take our older kids to visit their baby brother at college.
But sports loves a good Cinderella story, and Indiana has a great story to tell: a new coach, new attitude — and several transfers — are leading to success. ESPN took notice and sent their ” College GameDay” crew — including former IU coach Lee Corso — to Bloomington.
I’ve probably watched a grand total of 10 minutes of “College GameDay” in the last 10 years. It’s style (or hype) over substance. Too much yammering (and too many commercials), not enough action. (Besides, our daughter worked at Lowe’s, dreaded archrival of The Home Depot.)
We drove over Saturday morning. Here’s what I didn’t see:
the College GameDay crew
Here’s what I did experience:
Gorgeous fall foliage on the 2.5 hour ride from Cincy to Bloomington on a sunny day
Our son’s apartment (cleaner than we expected)
Our kids hanging out together
The pageantry of college football (the marching band, the cheerleaders, the chants, the fight song…)
A fun Big 10 18 college football game
Chatting with some of Andrew’s friends at the post-game tailgate
Dinner together
More gorgeous scenery and sunshine on the ride back home Sunday
I’ll take the latter over the former any day of the week. Including “GameDay.”
[Sorry I haven’t posted in a while. The man’s been keeping me down. – Ed.]
We did it!
We raised $1,400 for cancer research and care in Greater Cincinnati.
Sure, I was the one pedaling 24 miles in the Ride Cincinnati fundraiser. But I had lots of help.
[Actually I was out of town when the official event took place, but I did my ride the next day, and rode 25 miles, since my supporters went the extra mile for me.]
I had help from every single person who donated.
And my friends Phil and Suzie joined me on the 25-mile ride, which made it a heck of a lot easier and more enjoyable.
My inspiration and motivation was my friend John (a.k.a. “LJ”) who had a cancerous brain tumor removed back in May. Phil and Suzie have known John and his wife Patty since back in our college days, when Suzie and Patty were kicking butt as part of Xavier’s volleyball team.
We’re all connected. Not just John and Patty and Phil and Suzie and me and my donors… everyone has been impacted by cancer. Personally, or within their family, or within their social circle.
Just spokes on a big wheel – with love as the hub.
Despite the loud protests from my aching knees (damn you, Pickleball addiction!), I’ll be biking 24 miles in the Ride Cincinnati event in mid-September.
Ride Cincinnati is a grassroots bike tour that raises money for life-saving cancer research and care. Since 2007, Ride Cincinnati has raised over $6.6 million for vital cancer research at the University of Cincinnati’s Barrett Cancer Center.
I’d greatly appreciate it if you’d make a donation to support my efforts.
As you can see, at present, I’m woefully short of my fundraising goal. (Let’s hope I ride better than I raise money…)
Your hard-earned cash will be going to a great cause.
The Ride Cincinnati organizers have encouraged riders to share their “why” – their motivation for participating in the event. I think I covered most of my “why” in yesterday’s post about my dear friend LJ, who currently is battling brain cancer.
LJ is getting great care. Thanks to my neighbors Whit and Barb, he and his wife Patty were even able to consult with Dr. Bill Barrett, the medical director of the Barrett Cancer Center, about their treatment plan, and he said they were doing all the right things.
But not everyone has those connections. And overall, our fair city could use some help in achieving a National Cancer Institute designation, which would unlock millions more in research funding.
Currently, the Greater Cincinnati area lacks a National Cancer Institute (NCI)-designated cancer center. This prestigious designation signifies a center of excellence, offering patients throughout the tri-state access to the latest research and treatment options. Without one, many residents are forced to travel far from home for critical care. Ride Cincinnati is on a mission to change that.
My “why” also includes my mother-in-law Gloria, who passed from cancer last year… and my own mother, who died of leukemia 56 years ago. We’ve made great progress in the past half-century, but more work lies ahead.
Your donation is tax-deductible. But more importantly, if you donate to support me in Ride Cincinnati, we all win something much more precious than money. We win more days, weeks, months…. even years… with the ones we love who are battling cancer.
Thanks for reading. Thanks for your support. I’m going to make you proud in the ride.
Our youngest kid finished up his freshman year at Indiana University a couple of days ago. He came home yesterday. I use the term “came home” very loosely. I saw him for all of five minutes. He’s got other priorities now. Off to see his girlfriend. Home for about five minutes to change clothes, then off to play volleyball with his friends. Then to a friend’s house to watch a movie and hang out. This old man was long asleep when he came rolling home.
He’s already made plans to spend Memorial Day Weekend with his Hoosier friends from Indianapolis. They’re going to the Indy 500.
I feel like he’s already IN the Indy 500 – racing here, racing there… rarely making a pit stop at home. It’s part of the growth process, I know. But it’s still tough when you become a bit player in your baby boy’s life. He’s more “gone” than “here.”
The child born at dawn, By evening has moved on, grey and gone
Buffalo Tom “Here I Come”
I know life is fleeting. I just wish the pace car went a little slower. Instead, I’ll have to cherish the pit stops.
You done said…