Visit to NY was good. Well, as good as it could be. I kept thinking "sometimes you can go home again." I was a grown up without the sibling drama, family grief. I could just be there, in small ways for my oldest friend. B was my sister before A and I came back together as sisters. Somehow, it's always...easy. Family.
I was glad that I could just be there to be moral support. Lots of familiar faces. Some very difficult moments. I hope I could give her a little of what she needed in those times. It was hard for me, too. But I know there is nothing like losing your mom. It brought it back, a lot of it. But somehow the 9 years distance has helped some. All I could do was be there. (And bring challah and rugelach and black and white cookies from our favorite local bakery.)
She is an amazing woman, B. Strong. She does the right thing because it's the right thing. She took care of her mother in life and death. And though it's cliche to say so, I think B's mom would have been pleased with the way B honored her. B has an older sister, who is basically absent and selfish. Their mother died on Tuesday; B's sister, who lived 3 hour away, "couldn't" make it until Sunday morning. something about work. B did everything. Without bitching, without announcing. Just because it needed to be done. To take care of her mother. To honor her.
I consider myself so lucky to call her my friend.
My visit with my dad was good, too. I felt like I was a grown up. We had grown-up interactions without the complications of family dynamics and drama. My dad was happy to share his knowledge of trusts and estates to help B. It was what he focused on in his 30 year career. "She's family," he said. Indeed.
I think my father feels bad that he didn't give me my mother's engagement ring. However, he said he found his mother's engagement ring and wanted to give it to me. It was just beautiful. I don't know the lingo, but a simple gold band with small diamonds along the top. I was touched. Speechless that he would share this with me. Dad holds on to things, precious things like these. It means a lot. I don't think I communicated that to him. I hope I can. He spoke with his sister, my Tia, to make sure that she was comfortable with this, and she said she was pleased (or something) that I would have it.
Coming back was hard. In NY, I was just Sue. Grown up. Doing things that needed to be done to support friends, family. Not thinking about school or infertility or dead babies. Except, of course, traveling and seeing so many beautiful babies. Those pangs I couldn't even name until I felt them a bunch of times. That wanting to just... just wanting all those babies around me, the impulse, the empty arms... I don't know.
Now I have work to do. School to get through when all I can think about is life and death and family and reproduction. C and I have had some very difficult conversations. Productive, probably, but incredibly difficult. Starting to understand what lies ahead and what came before. And the impact of it.
I haven't been able to move, to do *anything* the last day or so. Maybe it's just catastrophic thinking about how to get through, to produce my dissertation, immerse myself in all that thought, theory, life, change. Delving deep into...everything.