October was a big month at Blog HQ. Instead of wasting precious brain cells in an ill-fated attempt at making my dull life entertaining and putting together creative posts about the comings and goings of said life, I decided to start putting out chapters of my story.
This has had the effect of alienating even my staunchest reading supporters, chief amongst them my parents (Mom because it’s a little two violent, and Dad because he already read the first draft).
Another big happening in October was the end of Panda Watch:
Sorry, there just isn’t enough anchor man in this world.
And there just isn’t enough of this little guy. Charles joined the clan on Wednesday the 21st, or Tuesday the 20th if you live on the West Coast.
We’re going to go with Wednesday as all great children are born on Wednesdays (myself included…in case that wasn’t readily apparent).
He’s pretty awesome, or appears to be from a million miles away. The distance is killing me (not literally, but you know). I want to meet this young man. I want to start corrupting him. I want to thank my sister for choosing me as her favorite brother (my middle name is Charles, so obviously, he was named for me).
My sister has been gracious in keeping me in the loop with all “Updates Charlie.” I’ve received a photo of him just about every day. It helps, but it’s not the same as being able to hold the little guy, and see him smile (or as is usually the case when there is a small child in my arms, scream).
Up until Halloween, all the pictures I’d seen had lead me to believe that Charlie was an even-tempered, mild-mannered young fella. Even the first couple of shots from Halloween kept up this illusion:
And then this picture arrived with the caption “The Real McCoy:”
It doesn’t make him any less awesome. It just helps explain why my sister is responding to text messages from me at 2am.
It’s awesome to be an official uncle. Step-uncle, surrogate uncle, self-proclaimed uncle and creepy guy who keeps hanging around our kids (just kidding…this hasn’t happened, ever) are great, but the real thing is pretty awesome, even though I haven’t done anything of note other than stare at pictures of the little guy.
I am excited to get back East and meet this little guy. I wish I could say I’d been there from the start, but we’ll just have to settle for “a few months in.”
Speaking of events I wish I’d been able to attend, my father upgraded to a smartphone the week of Charlie’s birth. I told you October was a big month.
He had been using the cell phone my parents received when they started their cell phone plan in 2006. Well, to be accurate, he was using that phone until 2013 when he downgraded (I know, it’s hard to believe) to the most basic cell phone in the history of cell phones, that my mother had purchased for my grandmother in case of emergency.
Two weeks in we’ve made some positive strides. He’s managed to send and receive a couple of text messages. No reports yet on whether or not he’s accessed the internet. I’m figuring the phone has freed him up to do some of the important things in life:
One other event I would have liked to have been on hand for back home occurred last Thursday. There was a big celebration, reports have 300-400 people in attendance. There was music. There was laughter. There was speechifying. There were a few tears. Maybe more than a few. I’m not sure, I wasn’t there.
Bates College celebrated Mom’s retirement after 36 years of service in the bookstore in addition to 4 years of under-graduate servitude.
A week ago today was Mom’s last day, except of course, she volunteered to cover the woman opening the store Saturday, just in case. So she was on call until 4pm Saturday. Then on Sunday, retirement began with a trip to New York to collect a lifetime achievement honor for her time at the bookstore.
And so, it’s a crazy thing. As Mom pointed out in a little speech she gave, I ( we her children, which is probably how you should interpret every ‘I’ throughout the remainder of this post – and then again they may not want me to speak for them, so interpret as you wish) have never known her not to be working at Bates. From about third grade on, I think, I would sometimes walk to the bookstore after school. In middle school (right across the street from the college), I’d stop in to say ‘hi’ on my way home. In high school, it was a bit more of a walk, but I’d still duck in to say ‘hello.’ In college and beyond, if I was coming home, and managed to get in during business hours, the first place I would stop was the bookstore.
I did it this June when I came home for my brother’s bachelor party. I hadn’t been home since mid-October. I was supposed to stay with my folks Sunday through Tuesday, but when the opportunity to have a surprise visit on Friday presented itself, I couldn’t resist. I parked in front of Chase Hall, climbed the steps, went through the doors, down the stairs and opened the squeaky right hand door and headed back to Mom’s office.
I won’t do that anymore, and it’s weird.
Bates is in my blood. Mom went there. Two uncles and an aunt also attended. As did a cousin.
There are folks at Bates who knew me before I was me.
Bates offered me my first paying jobs. Working “under-the-table” for Mom, working in the Post Office (this was more playing than actual working), and then working officially in the bookstore – just not directly for Mom.
My first job after college was through a co-worker of Mom’s at the college.
Some of my earliest sports heroes were the athletes I watched playing soccer, football, basketball and baseball on the Bates playing fields.
There was nothing better than walking from our house (a couple streets over from the college) across the Quad to a football game, then ducking into the store at halftime to visit Mom.
I started with my last company because I loved working in college stores and because the major experience on my resume was my time spent in the Bates College Bookstore.
I’m pretty sure I left said company because of my time spent at the Bates College Bookstore with Mom.
This piece was written by the college. It’s a beautiful portrait of all that Mom meant to the college community, and so much more. I couldn’t read it without tearing up.
Mom had such great connections with everyone on campus. She was a champion of the Bates experience. I can’t tell you the number of times I was riding the T or walking around Boston while wearing Bates paraphernalia (a staple of my wardrobe for many years) and was stopped by someone who asked me my connection. I would tell them my mom worked in the bookstore, and they’d light up and say something to the effect of “oh yeah, I know who she is.”
It was fun to make these connections. And I think that’s what I liked the least about my former job, was not being as intertwined in the fabric of the college community. On the face of it, we wanted to be part of the community, but not as a part of the experience, more as a money-making machine.
I know, I shouldn’t have tried to fool myself by romanticizing it. I worked as a gun for hire. I knew it. I was never going to have the connection my mother had to Bates, because I wasn’t going to have attended one of the institutions I worked at.
And you know what? It’s okay. Because I did reach a few of the kids in the way my mother did. Reading the article, and the point where one of the students talks about Mom taking her and her mother back into her office to chat, I said to myself, “hey, I’ve done that!” and then realized that I learned the most important part of the job was the kids from watching my mother (it’s been well documented I’m a remedial learner).
Amongst other reasons, this was a big part of why I left, the lack of human connection at work. This post isn’t about me. Back to Mom.
I was so proud to read such glowing reviews of my mother in the article. It felt like a bit of affirmation that all the great things I thought about her were, in fact, true. There was one picture in the piece I particularly enjoyed:
This is the same hug I received on my return home in June. It’s the same hug I get every time I come home. I know how good that hug feels. I feel sad for the incoming students, returning alumni, faculty and staff members who won’t get to experience the kind of love and happiness this hug encompasses. I’m happy to have been able to share that good feeling with all the people in the Bates community.
I’m also sad, because the direct connection to a place I love has been severed, and you feel that loss a little bit.
The sadness is, of course, outweighed by how happy I am for Mom who was ready to leave and is now on the outside. Hopefully, in a couple weeks, when the realization that she doesn’t have to go in to work anymore sets in, she’ll be able to kick back and really start enjoying retirement.
The ‘To Do’ list is already lengthy:
- Find a new job to help fund the repairs the house needs (that of course cropped as Charlie arrived, and retirement festivities were happening and the house had a prospective buyer), so my folks can sell it and get a move on to their coastal retirement adventures.
- Teach Dad how to use his cell phone. Too bad this doesn’t pay as I’m sure it’ll be a full-time job.
- Work up the courage/intestinal fortitude to read through the second draft of my story.
- Spend lots and lots and lots of time with this guy:
