"Feelin' Tired and then I got inspired..."

Ok, not really inspired, but I feel compelled to write - probably because I have nothing better to do at this hour. Liz is asleep in her bed and Bryan's asleep on our floor. He likes having a door between him and Mercy's barking. Dad believes in gating the dog into the kitchen at night so she doesn't have any accidents while we're all asleep. She hates it. She's taken to barking and growling and snorting something fierce every time we do. Mom doesn't do anything when she hears it. She says that Dad's the one who wants her in the kitchen, Dad's the one who can get up twenty billion times a night and tell her to go to sleep.

As the title at the top might suggest, I'm currently listening to Jimmy Buffett's "Tryin' to Reason with the Hurricane Season." Before that it was "Tin Cup Chalice." They're both earlier works, but good nonetheless. Both tracks I listened to are live off "Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays," the album he released during my first semester as a college student.

Listening reminds me a lot of that first year. I remember the Buffett concert. I remember days just listening in my room. I remember driving my Aunt's car back to campus after dropping Chris and Liz at my Aunt and Uncle's house. I remember the things I was thinking and the things I was feeling. Despite the less than positive I would still do it all over again.

I remember how alive I felt during my first semester at college. It was more than being independent and away from home. For the first time ever I had things keeping me occupied on a daily basis. Looking at my college career thus far it's very obvious to me that my two best semesters were when I was doing things and having some sort of a life, and the two worst were when I was doing little more than sinking inside myself to try and cope with all sorts of issues.

I've never been a very goal oriented person. I've always lacked the personal discipline to stick to something for a prolonged period of time. It's time to make a change. As I head back to school next weekend I see that my goal is not to study harder or make new friends or do more things; it's to feel alive again as a whole and put 100% effort into everything that I do.

Ich wuensche mich viel glueck.

Captured At: 244

I just got home from my Aunt Pat and Uncle Lou's house. It's actually Dad's Uncle and his second wife, but they're my Aunt and Uncle nonetheless.

The issue of the Mohawk Ave. property came up early in our time there. I suppose I should explain what I mean. The Mohawk Ave property is a building on Mohawk Avenue in Scotia that my grandmother and her siblings grew up in. Grandma Gloria had five sisters and three brothers. They lived in the upstairs of a two story building. The downstairs has held all sorts of businesses in the years it's been around. My Dad had his office in there at one point, my Aunts had a bridal shop, I forget who it was who had the shoe shop... After my great-grandparents passed away the house remained occupied by three of my aunts. Aunt Annie and Aunt Twins lived up there until Aunt Louise passed away last June.

Now that there are only two of the sisters left in the house the issue of selling the property has come up. This is a pretty big thing. Mom was talking to Grandma last night and she was saying that everyone else seems fine with it, but she and Aunt Annie talk about it and cry together. My thing in all of this is that I don't ever remember being inside. I'm told I was when I was little, but I was apparently too young to remember.

This building is a big piece of Marotta history. Marotta and 1920 something is apparently on the top of the building. I want to see the inside of this place before it goes. Rumor has it that when the building is sold it's going to be torn down. It will not be the same going down Mohawk Ave. and not passing that building. It will be even worse knowing that I have no recollection of it.

I was listening to Dad and Uncle Lou and Aunt Pat talking about it, and Liz and I were intrigued by the whole thing. They built in walls that could be moved if necessary. There are all sorts of back stairways and the basement is supposed to be creepy but really really cool. I want to see all of these things. It dates back to my family's beginnings in the country and I think it would be tragic to have all memories of this place die with my parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles.

My dad said that he thinks about my grandfather a lot; especially as he's gotten older. Grandpa Joe is 81 years old, but I've never thought he looked his age. That could be where I get it from, but that's beside the point. To hear my father mention the mortality of my grandparents really struck a note. This is something I've thought about several times, but in my opinion there's a difference between thinking something and actually hearing it out loud.

They're taking Liz to school and will be in New York over Labor Day weekend. It could very well be the last time we're in New York while this building is owned by my family. Liz wants to go exploring just as much as I do. I want to see my grandparents too. I have also been thinking about them a lot because of other things that have been going on, however I am not at liberty to discuss them here.

Dad mentioned the possibility of flying me up there so I can spend that time on Mohawk Ave. and also with my grandparents. I want to go so badly. I have to admit that the idea of some one going to New York when I'm going to be somewhere else makes me very homesick. In a way I envy Liz being up there and able to drop in on whoever she wants whenever she wants to.

Of course the whole issue of getting things after a family member dies came up. When my parents go I'm getting a clock. My grandfather gave it to them as a gift the day I came home from the hospital. It was his father's back when he was still in the jewelry business. If I get nothing else, at least I'll have something that's been passed down that far. I don't care if it works or not.

It's sad because as we looked at the rest of my dad's family it's painfully obvious that they're really just interested in things from the monetary aspect. In my opinion the history of the object and where it came from is much more important than what it's worth. I remember my grandmother giving us things one time saying "they're not much, but I know you'll appreciate them because you guys are like that." It meant a lot to me to know that my grandparents saw that in us.

I think about all of it and the only thing that has ever made me question my frequent statements about not having kids is that in a way I feel like I'd be doing a disservice to my family by not carrying certain things down or passing them on. I have a lot of respect for my grandparents and the things they've seen in their lifetimes. They've been through things that hopefully I will never have to see. My grandfather has a journal he kept when he was in the war. I think it would be great to have something like that because it isn't just a piece of him; it's a piece of history.

I could continue rambling on about this, but I won't. You either understand what I'm saying or will never have any idea. People tend to come in two varieties when it comes to this sort of thing; they either appreciate and respect their family history or they don't give a damn. I think I'm fortunate to be part of the first group.

Captured At:2338

"I've got your memory, or has it got me?"

Do you think things happen for a reason?

I've always said that they do.

I've always been told that they do.

I guess I'm not foolish enough to believe that things happen for random reasons; that the things we think and say and dream come from the middle of nowhere and lack any sort of significance.

I ponder this this morning because I woke up just before 5am from a dream about something I haven't given serious thought to in years. I found it incredibly difficult to go back to sleep. I couldn't stop thinking about the dream and why it showed up and what it might have meant. It probably meant nothing, but from time to time I have these dreams that just don't make any sense. On the other hand, sometimes I have them and they just hit something inside me.

This one was really both. And as I thought more about the dream and the reality of the situation it addressed I couldn't help but feel a bit sad.

I realize that I am starting to forget. For all the times I say my memory is great, I see that it's fading. At least certain times and events are fading. Perhaps it's just my brain's way of making room for all the things that are to come. Perhaps not.

But then again, they're not totally gone. They kind of came flooding back at me and I saw all sorts of these things that, like I said before, I haven't thought of in years. But why? And for what? Is it really that necessary for me to dredge up the past in my dreams to a point where I lay in bed awake feeling sad about things I couldn't control? Or is there some message I'm supposed to be getting out of all of this?

I really don't have the answers. All I'm left to do now is hope that I can quiet my mind enough to concentrate today and for the rest of the week on everything that needs to be done. There's a lot of it.

Captured At: 633