Sibling

When I was growing up, there were times when I wished that I had more siblings. I was the middle child, and I often felt as though I was left out of certain things because I wasn't the oldest or the youngest. I was just the boring middle child. I remember times when I would sit in my room and lament over the fact that there were no other "middle" siblings like myself. There were actually four of us. There was one that came in between my brother and me, but that one died early. I never got to know that sibling, but when I wasn't getting along with my brother or sister, it was that one sibling, the other "middle" one who although I never met, was the one that I missed.

There is just something about a brother or a sister, something that I cannot explain, but there is something about a sibling, a love and a bond, that somehow no other form of relationship could ever replace. Siblings, especially those that grow up with you, are like alternate versions of yourself. They carry the same blood and genes as you, and usually, they grow up similarly to how you grew up. In that regard, there is already the bond of similar experiences. And I don't know about anyone else, but for me, there is nothing more comforting and soothing than to be able to discuss private matters about your family that only a sibling with similar experiences could understand.

And so I come to the reason why I've been thinking about this lately: I've been thinking about G and how she is a single child. She will grow up without a sibling to care for her, laugh with her, play with her, and be with her. I'm not really in a position or situation to give her a sibling, and even if I were, I'm not sure that I would really want to do so. I'm 38, and even if I were to get pregnant today, I would be nearing 40 by the time I would deliver another baby. Although women are having babies later in life these days, I just don't think I want to risk anything. But then I think about how she would miss out on what I had: a happy childhood surrounded by my brother and sister. I want that for her - for her to have another version of herself - as I did with my siblings.

"I, who have no sisters or brothers, look with some degree of innocent envy on those who may be said to be born to friends." ~ James Boswell

"Our brothers and sisters are there with us from the dawn of our personal stories to the inevitable dusk." ~ Susan Scarf Merrell

"A sibling may be the keeper of one's identity, the only person with the keys to one's unfettered, more fundamental self." ~ Marian Sandmaier

Perfect Night

I had so much fun at the World Series last Thursday. It was the most fun that I have had in a long time. Everything was perfect:

• The Yankees won
• Jay-Z and Alicia Keys gave an awesome performance that nearly brought me to tears
• John Legend sang a soulful rendition of the National Anthem, with two jets flying above the stadium after the song
• The weather couldn't have been more perfect

It was definitely a night to remember.

“It couldn't have happened anywhere but in little old New York.” ~ O. Henry

Twos

The last few weeks came and went in a blur. I was busy working and had no desire to confine myself to the computer during my free time. I spent most every weekend out and about in the city, come rain or shine. I traveled mostly around Brooklyn and Manhattan (my favorite boroughs) and snapped photos at every opportunity.

photo by nova-san | 17 Oct 2009

My funk is just about gone. It could have to do with the fact that I finally booked my trip home! Even better, my trip was free, thanks to the mileage rewards that I racked up with my previous trips. I can hardly wait. I have not seen my family since my trip home last November. I am counting the days.

And.....in two days, I will be at Yankees Stadium. I got tickets to Game 2 of the World Series.

I don't want to jinx the seemingly good turn of events as of late, but I seriously could get used to feeling good. I'll enjoy it while it lasts.

Highs

I haven't had much inspiration or desire to blog as of late. I'm still in a funk, although I am looking for creative outlets to lift me out of it. I started doing gymnastics during the summer, and I've set physical goals to attain. I feel moments of extreme euphoria after a particularly difficult workout - one of the few "highs" I get to experience these days - so I try to work out every day. It has helped to improve my mood, somewhat.

Although this summer was quite mild, New York in the summer can get unbearable. High humidity and dense traffic just do not mix. Now that it's autumn, I enjoy walking outside during lunch and during my commute to and from work. The photography bug has hit me, and I oftentimes can be found roaming the streets snapping photos of this and that. There's also a grayness to the city during the autumn and winter months that I like so much, but others might find to be dark and depressing. For me, the architecture and the beauty of the city are framed much better in cooler temperatures. The heat and the summer steam only stifle the true feel of the city.

photo by nova-san | 28 Sept 2009

G is doing well. She's developing into her own little personality. She's a lot like I was when I was her age, yet I was nothing like she is now when I was her age. She's confident and feminine, whereas I was shy and a tomboy. She also enjoys looking at herself in the mirror, and I have tried to avoid it all my life.

"When I approach a child, he inspires in me two sentiments; tenderness for what he is, and respect for what he may become." ~ Louis Pasteur

Tricks

President Obama is in town for the U.N. conferences. He was also right across the street from my office taping the Letterman show. My co-worker and I snuck downstairs to try to catch a glimpse of him, but the police had basically barricaded our building. We lined up at the street barricades to try to catch a glimpse anyway, but was approached by three NYPD officers. I thought at first they were going to tell us to leave, but they instead struck up a conversation with me about how Obama was just about fifty feet away at the nearby cupcake place. We had just missed him by ten minutes.

"Yeah, he was just here, and he was looking for you. He came in, bought a cupcake with sprinkles, and asked, 'Where's Nova?'" one officer said.

I was momentarily stunned that he knew my name, but I quickly realized that he had read my building pass that I was holding in my hand. I smacked the officer in jest. Later on, I realized that I had basically assaulted an NYPD officer.

I'm a dork sometimes.

It's alright, Officer. I'm learning your tricks.

Something

Just when I start to feel like my life is moving in a positive direction, something always slaps me in the face to jolt me back to hard reality. It's always something way out of left field, something unexpected, and something for which I completely was unprepared to handle. There's always something.

I've been in a funk lately - a sort of mini state of depression, I guess. The summer is ending, people have been going on vacation, and work has been slow. I realize that I always rely on a heavy work load to distract me from my loneliness and so when there is no work to offer that distraction, I feel lost and alone. I'm envious of those who have families surrounding them and I have thoughts of packing it all in here and relocating to the Philippines where all my family lives.

Last Saturday, I wandered around the city and stopped at Bryant Park to collect my thoughts. I watched couples and families enjoying their time together, and I wondered why I was not fortunate enough to have that in my life. But then I also saw other lonely souls like myself, and it made me feel less alone.

This past Thursday was Fashion Night Out in New York. I took this photo of the Versace boutique with my cell phone. It is perhaps the most photographed store in all of the city.

Yesterday was 09/11. A difficult day for all Americans. I was sad all day but felt revived after Derek Jeter beat Lou Gehrig's record.

Today is 09/12 and my sister would have been 32 today. It's still hard to believe she's been gone for almost 10 years.

Late August Lessons

I am convinced that real New Yorkers leave the city during the last two weeks of August. My office is eerily quiet, and almost everyone in my group is on vacation until the Tuesday after Labor Day.

Only the lowly dregs like me are here to hold down the fort while everyone else is away on vacation.

The dregs and the mobs of foreigners and tourists are left to wander the streets.

Blah.

My bus broke down this morning at 23^rd Street, and I had to schlep it all the way up to 52^nd. And because I’m so brilliant and sharp-thinking in the morning, I figured I’d get in extra exercise by walking the thirty or so blocks uptown to my office.

By the time I got to work, my blouse was drenched, and my trousers were sticking to my legs. I don’t keep a spare suit in my office, so I was forced to let my clothes dry on me.

Lovely way to start the day, don’t you think?

Good thing I remembered to put on deodorant this morning. And can I just vouch for the effectiveness of my deodorant – it didn’t fail me! My pits were nice and dry.

It's just a shame that they don't make antiperspirant for your back.

Lessons learned today:

• Realize that most decisions made in the early morning hours are not necessarily the most intelligent
• Keep spare clothing and underwear in my office
• Take public transportation, especially when it's during the most humid days of the season

And they say you can't teach an old dog new tricks!

Out of Curiosity - Part Two

There is an online archive and database of the records of the Port of New York at Ellis Island. After some more interviewing and researching, I was able to obtain a copy of the passenger record and ship manifest of their earliest recorded ancestor, their grandfather.

I discovered that the ethnic background that they grew up believing they were to be, was in fact not accurate. I wonder how that feels - to grow up as a certain identity, to identify yourself within a certain culture, and to learn during the middle years of your life that your entire childhood was a fabrication. A cover up.

I cannot even imagine.

I also happened upon some old newspaper clippings about their father, from various time periods in his life. But there are still a number of years that are unaccounted, and it is those years that I am determined to find.

Of the known ten children: six have been found, one is confirmed to have passed away due to a childhood illness, and three are still out there, somewhere.

To further complicate matters, their father apparently had a number of different aliases. One of which was the identity of his twin brother.

The whole story is remarkable and fantastic. Almost unbelievable. But it's a story that deserves to be unraveled, and then told.

Out of Curiosity

I am tired and distracted. I picked up another book at the library last Wednesday and have been trying to read it every day during the commute to and from work. I'm still on page 27. Normally, I read a novel a week. I even had to re-read several of the pages just to even understand what I was reading.

Either it's the book, or I simply cannot concentrate.

~~

This past weekend was one of enlightenment and discovery. Life-changing. Hopeful and healing. It's not really my story to tell, but I was the catalyst in a chain of life-altering events.

I've always been a curious person. Curious to the point of investigative. So when I was told some information about someone's history and those pieces of information were not adding up, I took the initiative to do some research.

My little research connected one person to his father whom he had not seen in over thirty-five years. Unfortunately, I was too late in finding him. He had died twelve years ago. I thought that I had come to a dead end. But that dead end unknowingly brought him to learn of eight siblings of whom he was not aware.

Eight siblings whom he never knew existed in all the years of his life. And in a space of a few days, he was able to locate four of the missing eight siblings.

Pieces of their family history are starting to come together. Some of the pieces are damaging and painful. But something beautiful has come out of all of these years of ruined childhood and wasted years. Forgiveness and new beginnings. Family lost and found.

It’s not my story to tell, but I am happy that my curiosity led to something short of a miracle.

"We all grow up with the weight of history on us. Our ancestors dwell in the attics of our brains as they do in the spiraling chains of knowledge hidden in every cell of our bodies." ~ Shirley Abbott

"You don't choose your family. They are God's gift to you, as you are to them." ~ Desmond Tutu

Going Postal

The absolute worst place to be on a Saturday morning: a New York City post office.

I understand that one has to get there very, very early in order to avoid long lines, but could you at least brush your teeth first? I mean, is that a possibility?

Okay, so you made it out of your pajamas. Or maybe you're still wearing the same clothes that you wore yesterday and overnight because you didn't even change into pajamas when you went to sleep... but could you at least slap on some deodorant?

Because, see, I have to stand next to you in line. And while you're bitching in line about how long the line is, I have to inhale that foul breath of yours and the nauseating stench of your arm pits.

Already you've assaulted 3 of my 5 senses:

1. my hearing is shot from your consistent bitching while we stand next to each other in the line for half an hour
2. your smell is causing my stomach to turn
3. I can taste the vomit forming in my mouth from your smell

Do people care about hygiene anymore?

Saturday mornings at the post office sure make me wonder.

G's lesson for the day:

Get some of this:

and then do this:

and then you'll be ready to go the post office.