Graceful Parenting in Austin

I’m at home with my favorite real estate agent, Winona Barron, trying to figure out how to buy a larger house in central Austin for less than a million dollars. We are doing all right, except that Baby Girl’s bedroom is technically a dining room and there are four of us sharing the same bathtub/shower. [...]

Erin Kotecki Vest might be all famous and powerful because she interviewed Barack Obama for BlogHer and I guess that is a big deal, but here in Texas, sports are a big deal too, and in Austin, University of Texas baseball is legendary, so here is my interview with the winningest [...]

It was Blue Eyes’ idea to come to The Crossings, a retreat and wellness spa in Austin. Just two nights, he said, just the two of us. It is, after all, our 5th wedding anniversary.
I wasn’t sure what he meant at first by ‘just the two of us.’ But after asking lots of questions and [...]

 Many years ago, I went to Portugal with my Grandma to see the small villages where
she and Grandpa grew up and meet my many cousins, all named Maria (Maria Elena, Maria Theresa, Maria Manuel, etc.) I went on walks in the village with my suitor, a young man my Grandma set me up with because [...]

Blue Eyes told me about the University of Texas baseball game coming up against rival Texas A&M. Last home game of the season with the Lone Star Showdown trophy on the line. Great spring Texas weather, clear and sunny and not too hot. Would I like to go he asks?
Ohh myyy, Baseball is SOOOO romantic.
Because [...]

I was on the phone with Gilbert from the Stasswender Memorial Company. He is an artist who does scluptures, but he also carves headstones. He offered me an exchange.

“An exchange?” I asked. “Do you mean for another headstone?” I had decided to not bury Grace’s ashes in a cemetery just a few days after I ordered the headstone and paid the deposit.

“Yes,” he replied. “You can do an exchange within thirty days.”

This reminded me of another unusual exchange. I had adopted a black and white cat named Sebastian from the city animal shelter and she died that night. I brought the cat back to the shelter, so they would know that the cat was probably sick before I adopted her. And they offered me an exchange; I could adopt another cat for free. But they also hadn’t done a cat exchange before, so managing the paperwork, delays and approvals wasn’t worth the $80.

The same was true with this exchange. Sure, someone else in my family could die within thirty days, but I was sure it wouldn’t be worth it. I decided the deposit was lost.

This wasn’t my only trouble. I was having trouble in general, with the whole idea of how my generation honors the dead…

One thing I knew was that the right home for Grace’s ashes was not behind my long sleeve shirts in my bottom drawer. That is where they had been for many months. Before that, she was with the office supplies, but I didn’t like running into her accidentally when I was just looking for a pen, so I moved her to my bottom drawer, with the long-sleeve shirts that I don’t wear often, so she had her own private space, but I would see her now and then.

My parents’ generation knew what to do. They knew to embalm the body and place it in a casket and bury it in a cemetary plot with a headstone etched with the name and dates. This is how things were done and it is comforting to have a way things are done when you need to be comforted.

But this didn’t feel right. It felt like I would be trying to preserve the body as if Grace might need it later. It felt strange for her body to take up space on the earth, a whole plot of land with a deed, land that couldn’t be used by living people anymore. It felt strange for there to be such a business about it, with fees for the land and headstone and placing of the headstone and burial of the ashes. And I wondered how the tradition of burying the dead in a casket in a plot with a headstone would hold up over time. Wouldn’t we eventually run out of space?

Blue Eyes and I had already broken with tradition by having Grace’s body cremated. Earlier, we had decided that we wanted to be cremated. For me, the decision was pretty much about the HBO special Six Feet Under. In telling the stories of a family-owned funeral home, I learned a lot about embalming and it wasn’t a very natural process at all. To return to ashes felt more natural to me. And this is what we chose for Grace.

But that wasn’t the only choice. Now we needed to choose what to do with the ashes. Blue Eyes felt less attached to the decision, so he let me decide, which was simpler and harder at the same time.

I thought of an urn in our living room, but I didn’t want to have a casual get-together and have someone ask and have to explaining something so personal.

I thought of an urn in the house in a hidden place, but I imagined the urn would get dusty and feel forgotten.

I thought of a private memorial park that would dedicate a tree to Grace, with her ashes buried at the foot of the tree, for only $6,000.

I thought of burying her ashes in our backyard, but we might move.

I thought of burying her ashes in a special place on public land, but the public might mind.

Six months after Grace passed away, we held a memorial service for her. Afterwards, we planted a tree for Grace in our back yard. A few months later, Blue Eye’s parents bought us a rock with ‘Grace’ carved in it and we placed this at the foot of the tree. We have a place to go at home when we want to be with Grace.

But, her ashes were still behind my long-sleeve shirts in my bottom drawer. Since I hadn’t found a good alternative, I started thinking about a cemetary again.

There was a cemetary near our house with pretty trees, wind chimes hanging from the tree branches and benches for sitting. We asked about burying ashes instead of a casket in a cemetery plot and they said that was fine. So that was my plan when I bought the cemetery plot and the headstone, but when the confirmation paperwork came in the mail, I changed my mind. It felt contrived and forced, to have a traditional cemetery plot and headstone with only the ashes in the ground. That is when I called Gilbert and he was understanding, but not THAT understanding, but that was all right.

I had stopped trying to find an answer one day when my family and I were walking on the trails around Lady Bird Lake…

We liked watching the people, young and old, fit and not-so-fit, all sharing the same place. We liked the contrast of the downtown skyline and the natural trees and birds and river. There is an easy and generous spirit about Lady Bird Lake and as I was thinking this, I thought, why not bury Grace here?

Oh, no! This is a terrible idea! Because, for one thing, what if everyone in town wanted to bury the ashes of their loved ones at Lady Bird Lake? Maybe on Sunday afternoons, instead of joggers and parents with babies in strollers, you would see families with shovels and small containers. What if they all picked the same spot? What if the same flower bed kept getting dug up? What if someone from the city comes the next day to change out the flower beds and he wonders why the dirt is looking a little gray?

In one way, it seemed so natural for the Grace’s ashes to return to the earth become one with the cycle of life that would grow new grass or flowers. In another way, it seems like I’m asking too much of the city and its citizens who might not be so into this new idea of not using caskets and cemeteries.

What is the next generation’s answer to honoring the dead? Should we be tied down to an industry that sells spots for our loved ones along with related services and fees, or is there a way to find a home for them in nature, as one with the earth, in a responsible way?

I decided that I didn’t have to solve all of that and I didn’t have to take responsbility for my whole generation. The converstations will happen and answers will be found and eventually there will be the next comfortable place where famlies know what to do in difficult times.

Blue Eyes, Baby Girl and I found a spot off the main path overlooking the water. There was a bench and an arbor overhead, covered in wisteria. We sat for a while. As we started to head back, we saw a path of stones that lead to a small garden behind the bench. There was a stone marker there. It read “Twin Gardens.” This was the right place for our baby Grace.

Gilbert called me back after the 30 days had passed and he said, “You really don’t want a headstone, do you?” and I told him “No, I really don’t.” He said “OK, then, I hadn’t started on your headstone yet, so I’ll put all the money back on your card. I wish you well.” “Thank, you,” I said.

Blue Eyes, Baby Girl and I returned to Lady Bird Lake near the one-year anniversary of Grace’s birth and death. We went on a Saturday night at dusk when there was still a little light and not very many joggers. We found a spot near the stone marker and buried Grace’s ashes there. Blue Eyes and I read prayers from Grace’s service. Baby Girl slept in her stroller. We spent some time there, Blue Eyes and I with our twin baby girls, one still with us and another resting in peace, at last.

(Twin Gardens a few days later.)

She wants to see live music more, but finds it hard to do, but today, or all days, she isn’t feeling social and hasn’t made it out of the house yet. He is giving her a hard time because she doesn’t have to go out far, the band is playing on her own block, underneath her neighbor’s carport, just a few houses down…. Who is hot, who is not, which bands need a wristband, which need a second wristband, which make you wait in three different lines to get in. You are playing for important people in the music industry, but for all their importance, they might also be snobby and arrogant and not that much fun anymore…. And while I’m all for the middleman because they play a big role in how music happens and I enjoyed a SXSW show the day before, it’s also nice now and then to just have a conversation between the people who make music and the people who listen…. There were no record executives or press and Diego’s Umbrella didn’t get discovered on my block, but they might have paid for the gas on the way home and everyone had a good time.And Misty made it to the party.

I said a while back, when explaining why my family watches 6,000 movies a year from NetFlix, BlockBuster and Movies on Demand, when I’d rather see music, that there isn’t a lot of infant-friendly live music around, even in Austin, the Live Music Capital of the World. And I’m sure a lot of people would say that the SXSW music conference, with its expensive wristbands, overwhelming schedule of hundreds and hundreds of bands, and late night shows in crowded bars, isn’t infant-friendly, but I’m not so sure…

Baby Girl, Noel and a few friends went to a free SXSW show yesterday, in a park near downtown on the river, under sunny skies, with a cool breeze. When I asked one of my friends if she wanted to go, she asked who was playing and I said I didn’t know. Because SXSW may be infant-friendly, but it is definitely different with a baby.

The wristband wouldn’t stay on Baby Girl’s wrist and the price doesn’t fit in our budget. So I looked for a day time show that didn’t require wristbands. It had to be outside, instead of a crowded bar. It had to be after a nap time, so she might miss one nap but not two. And by the time I had all that figured out, there were two places we could go. And then, I have to admit, I don’t see music like I used to and I didn’t know the bands playing in either place, so I just picked one.

It took forty-five minutes to get Baby Girl, Noel and myself ready. Then we had to pick a place to meet one of our friends, since she also had a baby with a car seat and a stroller that won’t all fit in my car. We decided to meet at Run-Tex, since we needed shoe inserts for Noel, so that took a while too.

We finally got to the park and it was nice.

Photo courtesy of AustinParks.org.

Austin feels like a really large, really extended family. I don’t know why, it’s not like we’ve all shared dinner together or something, but it just feels that way. Austin’s beautiful skyline was in the background and the Colorado river ran between the park and downtown. There was a good energy in the mix of families, babies, dogs, frisbees, funnel cakes and music.

We heard fusion jazz from Christian Scott…

Photo Courtesy of JazzPolice.com.

Christian Scott felt a little out of place, like he might be more at home in a bar late at night, but I loved the different landscape, without the verse-chorus, beginning-to-end-in-three-minutes structure of rock-n-roll, the different sounds moving and changing, coming and going.

We listened to hip-hop from Lyrics Born…

Photo Courtesy of CityPages.com.

Lyrics Born had a lot of energy and songs that had us dancing a little. He got the crowd going, as much as you can, playing hip-hop for a mostly white and nerdy crowd. We can’t hear the words, but my friend explains that Lyrics Born is part of the progressive hip-hop movement, with the really good beats and without the gangsta lyrics, which aren’t for me. I’d like to hear more from this guy.

We weren’t right up front, where we could have heard the music the best, we are off to the side, sitting on a blanket under the shade, so the babies can be away from the crowd and play. I listened some of the time, in between feeding Baby Girl, changing her diaper and getting food for Noel.

I wasn’t immersed in the music like I used to be, taken away to a different place. It felt more like Christian Scott’s music, with the kids, the people, the outdoors and the music all coming and going, in and out of view, all part of something bigger that has a different feel that each of the parts by themselves. It’s a nice way to spend an afternoon.

So, we’ll still see more movies than music, it is easier all round, but I won’t forget the music, because it isn’t as hard as it seems and we’ll back next year. Thanks SXSW.

I was dealing with family administrative business yesterday, you know, my favorite part of being a Mom. We have two bills for two separate accounts to the same insurance company. I was having trouble in my on-line banking software saving two payees with all of the same information except the account number. I saw the customer service number right there with the error message, so I gave it a call and you won’t believe what happened…

A person answered. Right away. No automated system with lots of questions. No waiting on hold. No entering in my account number, just to be asked for it again when the representative answers.

I was unsure what to say to this person. I didn’t know which number I should press. I wasn’t sure of all the options. I hesitated.

Remember when answering machines first came out and it was so awkward to figure out what to say to a machine? Well, I have come all the way around now, because I was awkward trying to figure out what to say to a real live person.

I finally got it together and said ‘hello.’ Then I told him that I couldn’t believe he was real. Finally I explained the problem I was having. He said he understood, but he would have to put me on hold for a minute. So I waited.

I waited about ten seconds, then he was back. He said, yes, the system isn’t able to save two payees that are exactly the same except for the account number. Since the payee names can’t be edited, he recommended creating two new payees with slightly different names. He said he would wait on the line while I do this, to be sure it works.

Back in my software consulting days, I worked on a project for a banking call center where customer interaction was very efficient, with each representative handling tons calls made as short as possible, while being careful to not get caught visiting with the older people who were lonely. But this guy was hanging out patiently while I typed in all the information twice. We chatted about where his was located (San Antonio, Texas) and what the weather was like (the same for both of us, in the eighties!). The two payees saved fine. I told him I loved him. Well, not LOVE, but something like it. Why can’t customer service always be this way?

In case you are wondering, bank is Frost Bank, a regional Texas bank…

with a cool building in downtown Austin…

and a pretty loyal customer.

There is no reason for art. That is why I want it, need it and love it. Because when I make the space and take the time to just listen and watch and see what happens, I’m not being productive or efficient. I’m not accomplishing measurable goals. I’m not continuously improving my relationships. I’m not trying or planning or doing anything and it feels really good…