Archive | July, 2013

Taken for Gran-ite

20 Jul

I’m sure most of us, above the age of 13, have been advised “don’t take life for granted” or “life is short, don’t take the people you love for granted.”  Well if anybody understands the brevity of life, it is I (and those connected to me).  However, in order to live, I am finding out that the only way to carry on is to, in fact, take those we love for granted.  We have to.  We have to consider that we will speak again, see each other again, and fulfill our future plans together.  It is imperative for our mental health that we consider the next day will come!

Now mind you, as each next day comes (at rapid speed) I am still trying to grapple with the yesterday gone by.  And while in my grappling state, momentary living–living in the moment rather, gets to be a tough concept to abide by.  Especially as my life keeps traveling at a rate too fast for me to handle.  Check this out…

  • Brian and I spend the day with our son, Cole.  May 16, 2013
  • A telephone call from a sheriff and Cole’s best friend tells us our son is gone.  May 17, 2013
  • We bury our son at Miramar National Cemetery, San Diego.  Dates at this point are escaping my memory
  • We leave for a pre-planned (business/pleasure) trip to Europe.
  • We return from Europe and turn around and fly to Japan (business/with pleasure attached).  July 1-7
  • Home from Japan with severe jet-lag, the following Monday (July 15), I begin a new job an hour from my home.
  • Here I sit, on my couch, the Saturday after navigating my first week of work.

I have mounds of mail to attend to.  I am late paying my visa bill.  My toilet is sporting a new “brown color ring” on the inside of the bowl.  My kitchen counter looks like a cross between OfficeMax and the grocery store.  I have the census bureau sending me threatening notifications about the fact I am “obligated by law” to fill out the form.  My laundry is still under the impression that “konichiwa” is the proper greeting of the day.  I have phone calls I haven’t made and follow up I haven’t done in connection to the death of my son.  We have been offered a historical home to live in, in San Diego (next door to my new job), for free–minus utilities.  And while the offer is extremely generous and financially appealing, the idea of it terrifies me.  AND–this is a big “and”– I have family and friends who are in sorrow with us and who have been left in the dust of our whirlwind as well.

So when I actually try to get my head around my life, my yesterday, my today, and my tomorrow–I find myself needing, absolutely requiring, that my loved ones, my circumstances, my world,  remain intact.  I mean it is all happening too fast for me…  I have to “take for granted” that they will be here tomorrow, if I am to make it through my today.

Now I must go de-clutter the kitchen counter, put the roast in the crock-pot, cut the fruit so it doesn’t rot, sort the beans and put them to boil, make breakfast for the rousing crew, and fill out the damn census form before John-Law comes a knocking at my door.

Any thoughts from the peanut gallery (a term I use to pay homage to my children–they are my peanuts–and I can still hear Cole’s voice)?

Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

Lest I Digress

10 Jul
I am going to segue from the present course of my mourning to share a bit of comedic error as experienced by me, while in Japan.  If you are a long time reader of my writing, you already know that I find those things connected to our natural bodily functions to be quite comical.  If you are new, brace yourself! 😉
I like Japan!  Of course, I knew in advance it would be an easier trip than Europe due to the non-stop flight and the fact the Japanese do not go on strike!  And even though our schedule was packed and fully coordinated, the travel and hotel situation ran smoothly.  I also think the language barrier was a nice respite for me as it allowed many opportunities for me to be silent (which my soul appreciates right now).  But onward to the fun of the day…

The toilets.

What is not to love?  You sit down and the seat is heated.  There are so many buttons to push, and me being a sworn-in button-pushingaholic, must push each and every one.  Now this approach can be quite surprising and depending on where the water pressure adjustment has been set, can also be quite alarming—think drugstore enema (Fleet I believe).  But oh how fun, they even have a button which makes an artificial flushing sound, just in case you want to have a noise louder than your bodily functions.  I especially like this button as it is identified by a music symbol…I am now “in the know” that the sound of a flushing toilet is considered music!

Japanese Bidet

“Action Jackson”
Hotel room bidet button panel

I have had a bit of trouble twice (well if I am honest, I had a bit of trouble often–everything is written in Japanese, of which I know zilch).  The first time was when we visited a national shrine.  The toilet situation was more ‘traditional’, I guess you could say.  A porcelain hole in the ground.  It looks quite like a male urinal and I had to go outside to “verify” I was in fact in the ladies restroom.  Turns out I was but I still didn’t know how to maneuver the apparatus–the porcelain one and my own.  I’ll enclose a photo (of the toilet only!).
Japanese toilet

Skip to the loo my darlin’

I came across another one of these toilets at a ‘location photo shoot’ which happened to be in a Japanese hot-rod shop.  Now I wasn’t too worried when I had to urinate because, unlike the States, all toilet facilities, up to that point, had been very clean.  And the hot-rod shop, Pumkin Sally (http://pumpkinsally.blogspot.jp/), was no different.  But the porcelain hole, instead of being on the ground, was on a step up with two metal plates along each side of it.  …consider me clueless!  I was hoping not to spray the walls, or the floor for that matter, as my anatomy isn’t exactly a “straight shot!”

Well yesterday evening, while conversing with the wife of our host and the head buyer for men’s clothing for the Freak’s Stores, I had the opportunity to share my photos with them.  As we were looking through the batch, the toilet from the shrine came up.  I explained I had no clue how to use it, and thankfully my new male friend took it upon himself (while fully clothed mind you), to show me the proper “squat” method—turns out my “point and shoot” was all wrong!

My most favorite toilet experience came from a most ironic location.  Our friend and tour guide took us to lunch at an American style cafe.  It was there I received the warmest of welcomes.  The toilet option for the restaurant was a single stall, one for males and one for females.  You know, the kind with the sink and toilet in one little room, and one person at a time (ideally).  Well when I went in to use the bathroom, I opened the door and stepped a foot over the threshold when all of a sudden the toilet seat sprung up, as if to say, “Welcome, Rivka, to Japan!” I thought it the coolest thing ever and found myself torn between needing to empty a certain organ-like sac, and wanting to run back to my table and have everyone come and check it out.  …my bladder won.  But my table mates were given an enthusiastic description of the event upon my return. 🙂

I must say, Tokyo is a beautiful city–day or night.  And I will take their public restroom over any in America–hands, feet, and squatter down!

Tags: , , , , , ,