the terrible two-year anniversary

Today marks two years since we said good bye to Scout. 

I continue. 

The pain isn't as crushing as it was, but it persists. 

Most days, the hashtag #ScoutDay makes it to my posts because it was day that I missed him. 

Yesterday, I left trivia night in tears--not because we came in second (ha), but because the bar kept flashing a picture of a puppy who looked so much like Scout on their screen. 

Scout started popping up in our conversations and dreams even more than usual earlier this month--even before I made the calendar connection. I was amazed how our souls seemed to know this anniversary was coming up even before our minds figured it out.

Scout was certainly my once-in-a-lifetime "soul puppy." I'm so lucky to have had ten years with him... I wish every day it could have been longer.

He was the boy with the blaze.

I'm glad we got that final picture with the cherry blossoms.

I wish I could find a home for this poem about him. 

I love this early picture of him.

I'm glad he had a the best last day we could give him.

Goodbye my sweet Scout Akshaya. 

Pic: Scout and me on a Christmas trip to Ohio. He was always up for a selfie... or anything, as long as we were together.

everything is... connected

Robert Reich, one of the more public, progressive, pro-union voices, has been a source of hope for a long time. I have been especially grateful for him this year for his posts like "Ten Reasons for Modest Optimism" and statements that have become mantras to me: we are the leaders we've been waiting for; we can maintain decency in a time of monsters; courage is contagious...

I also feel connected to Michael Schwerner. Ever since I accidentally walked into a dusty storeroom in a house in the middle of Ohio--a house we would later live in--and found a picture of my fellow compatriot, Mahatma Gandhi, twinkling up at me. It was a picture of Gandhi on a certificate awarded to Michael Schwerner from his early years at CORE (The Council for Racial Equality). Michael "Mickey" Schwerner is, of course, one of the civil rights workers killed during the Freedom Summer of 1964 along with Chaney and Goodman in the case that garnered national attention and helped hasten the passage of the Voting Rights Act of 1965. Our house in Yellow Springs had belonged to Steven Schwerner, Michael's older brother and Dean of Antioch College who had moved away to Brooklyn to be closer to his grandkids. I kept finding traces of Michael Schwerner's presence in that house over the years and felt the jolt of his idealism every time.

So imagine my shock when Robert Reich mentioned that because he'd always been bullied for being short, in school he'd relied on kind older kids to protect him and one of those kids was "Mickey." Yes, Mickey Schwerner! He goes on to say that when he got to college and found out what had happened to Michael, he "began to see bullying on a larger scale" and credits this as the beginning of his insight into and involvement with social justice. It's amazing how just one well-lived life can ripple out across time and space and influence millions of others. I did not know that two people I thought of so highly were connected in such an immediate way. Rest in Power, Michael Schwerner.  

Pic: The woods at the back of the house have begun their greening. 

bloggy goddess goodness

A lovely afternoon with Lisa and Jeanie!

Lisa and I walked to Daffodil Hill, through a bit of Baker Woods, the Children's Garden, and the Horticultural Gardens and met up with Jeanie at The Broad Art Museum... which was inconveniently closed today. We meandered through Beal Gardens and the Riverwalk back to dinner.

I thought I'd leave Lisa and Jeanie alone to get some one-on-one time (they've known each other for over fifteen years!) to sprint ahead and get dinner started. But when I picked up the mail and turned the corner into the driveway, I saw them sitting on the porch! 

Meeting friends you've made online is such an affirming experience--there's such a wealth of already shared experience and so much to talk about. We had a lively dinner with the family--talking about books and movies and what we haven't read, Max and Huck eating sorbet off a spoon under the table. Goodbye came too soon.

Afterwards, At wanted to go see Sinners, so the fam headed to the movies. I closed my eyes through some of the more gory parts and may have accidentally (and characteristically) fallen asleep. The music and score were tremendous. (I love Ryan Coogler's work in Black Panther. We actually bought Fruitvale Station, but I haven't yet been able to steel myself to actually watch it.)

Pic: Jeanie, Lisa, me (and behind us Zaha Hadid's amazing construction for The Broad). 

"Just asking, not coming for you"

J said something in comments yesterday about The Last of Us that I didn't understand because I'm not watching the show anymore. There's something very bonding and clarifying about watching a post-apocalyptic show together... Something about imagining what you might do to survive, who your tribe would be, whom and what you would protect, and also whom you would be against. It's a good emergency preparedness template, which is why the CDC adopted it. I remember watching The Walking Dead with teen Atulya and then finding ourselves on the subway in NYC after a visit to Sarah Lawrence College trying to come up with a plan on how to connect in case there were no trains or planes and At ended up going there for college. 

The Last of Us was a great show we were all watching together until At, who was playing the game, got uncomfortable with some of the politics of it. Once you see the Scars as a stand-in for Palestinian othering, it's difficult to not to be pulled by it. (It's not so much "cancel culture" as being wary of producers normalizing their fucked up worldview through their art. The standard example that comes to mind is Luc Besson's 1994 film The Professional featuring a 13-year-old [12-year-old Natalie Portman] falling in love with an [adult] assassin. Art is art and all stories deserve to get told, but when you learn that Besson himself first met his wife when she was 12, you have to wonder what messages he's embedding, and if he's using his art to manipulate the public's attitude and consent.)

Anyway, my kids tried to make me feel bad about the Kendrick Lamar love, and sent me to this article. Maybe I'm in denial, but apart from platforming Kodak Black, I don't see anything credible? "Just asking, not coming for you," one of them reassured me.

I'm grateful they really do seem to love coming to the Easter Egg Hunt. I'd be okay even if they were just humoring me, but they really, really love it. "It's my favorite tradition," Nu said. I said, "I thought Christmas Eve with new pajamas and lots of books was?" Nu's reply: "No that's yours, because you're a nerd." This is true.

Pic: At, Nu, Max, and Huck following rhyming clues to find eggs. Today, as At was away with friends yesterday. 

hopping over to happy

So many friends didn't make it to the protests yesterday, but they still seem to have been well attended overall. I know I needed a break. I needed a break last week. (And did take one.) And NGL, I was relieved I had a good excuse in commencement this weekend. 

I'm usually such a news hound and love following the way a story breaks and builds. But right now, the screwy sophistry of our times would make that (probably literally) maddening. I mean... have you seen the executive Easter message? 

Quick! Pivot! Focus on joyful things! 

I am IN LOVE with this song and its whole dreamlike vibe. I'm seeing Kendrick and SZA in Detroit in June and that feels like a dream too.

And I sent out the invites for Nu's graduation party (with Nu's approval). The date's right in the middle of the week, because that's when Big A is off and my MIL will be here, but I know my friends got me. I so wish my parents and sister and aunts and uncles AND COUSINS could be here too...

Pic: Easter brunch. I never take table pix when guests are here because it feels impolite, but it was just us today. If you squint, you can see a  field of flowers instead of my eggy brunch bake :) next to the chicks and flowers the kids and I always make from boiled eggs for Easter. (The chocolate easter egg cake isn't me, it's from the talented bakers at Costco.)

please clap

People have probably been at protests and marches today, but it was commencement today at school, so that's where I was.

I'm so inordinately proud of my students. Even if someone has had just the one class with me, I'm so happy for them and excited to see them robed, getting their diploma. We have a gauntlet at the end of the ceremony (we have a gauntlet that bookends their opening convocation too) where we clap the students out to the sound of our homegrown bagpipers and it's one of my favorite traditions. It's a good thing we're a small school, because I'll clap earnestly for every student going on stage whether I know them or not. 

Pic: A colleague took this pic and said I looked "stupid happy." "Are you happy someone is leaving?" they quipped. Actually, I'm sad I won't see some amazing students as they head off into the world. And I'm thankful for the kind cards some of them gave me. I'll treasure all of it forever.  

Post title from that Jeb Bush moment. Remember when that was funny? Also: One of my secret superpowers is that I'm good at getting applause going in a crowd. That first person who starts clapping? That's sometimes me.

he stands there

he stands there as if

 the most popular boy in pre-K 

the other kids clustered around
exclaiming at his new clothes

           that's my old T-shirt said one

           my old rain boots said another

           those pants will make you itch

          ask me how I know, said the wag 

he stands there dull

the shape of shame in his mouth

pushing up the smile that wants 

to droop, thinking up a comeback  

           in years to come he'll be bemused

           that his kids aim to shop vintage

           and give clothes away seasonally

           that his wife wants to thrift... and

he stands there, still

when she invites him to come 

lifted like a ship in a calm harbor

surprised he finds welcome in this

_________________

Pic: A magnolia tree in full bloom. (On a walk with L.)