Zapata y yo
I went in today for my CT scan to have one more test run on my ticker. I swear sometimes the cure is worse than the disease as lying on the plank with my hands above my head, an IV in one arm and a blood pressure cuff on the other arm, as a mechanical voice told me to breath and quit breathing, and then a flush of iodine injected into me which made my whole body have a warm blood rush and then “open your mouth” and a nitroglycerine tablet inserted under my tongue – “this might cause a headache” – “breathe slowly” – good lord, by the time the whole event was over I must have chanted om ganapatye ganapatye om nom ganapatye at least a million times.
This all started with the approach of my mother’s one year anniversary of her death and the many myriad associations it brings. My father’s funeral was as someone recently referred to it, “a typical Namer family funeral” where my family went to war with Beth Israel over the size of the headstone that would appear on my father’s grave for the one year anniversary and during the service the torah leapt out on its own inert ability and rolled down to the bima and down into the middle of the shule. My mother’s funeral described by a friend to another was, “Rachel playing Love is My Religion on her iPod while making the crazy sign about her sister who was telling everyone Rachel had murdered her mother and after her older brother had been yelling at her to obey him.” Typical Namer Family Funeral – TNFF.
Naturally during the time my mother was in the hospital neither of them provided any solace to me so it is not without mystery that in looking forward to honoring the memory of my mother on this upcoming one year anniversary, it hasn’t been without trepidation there will be another eruption of discordance and chaos, no peace and no harmony for my observance of this time period. So I’m just trying to ommmm my way into it but it hasn’t been without some delayed anxiety that accrued from my mom being so ill for so long and her passing and now one year hence some long thinking and taking stock of my relationship to this very important woman in my life. A year that has been made more profound as Tin’s arrival in my life coincided with this year of grief.
Joy and grief – they seem to go so hand in hand in my life.
Meanwhile, because of global uncertainty that has plagued the financial markets and the industry I cover, media, the anxiety of being a new mother and a now orphan has also manifested into an irrational fear of the continued ability to take care of my brood, not just me, but to pay my mortgage and keep a roof over my family’s head as I’ve watched others losing their jobs left and right, some jobs they’ve held for more than two decades. So irrational maybe, or maybe not. Fear is fear and always carries some tinge of validity. And I am new to my role as the elder now.
Couple these myriad events with the advent of many home projects and a computer break down that were unexpected (read: not factored into the budget) and you find yourself going WTF! and spending many a sleepless night wistfully remembering that first apartment, the moment in your life where you felt unfettered and free and not carrying the weight of your world on your shoulders. And I recall my father’s words repeated often enough while I was young, “I’m going to get in the car and drive to Mexico!” – this being his default line for how to cope with challenges.
So in comes the heart because as you can see by this little diatribe – it wasn’t enough to have all that but then my heart started speeding up for no reason and taking my breath away and then my brother said, “Heart Attack, Heart Attack, Heart Attack” and so it was with reluctance that I added cardiologist visits and lab work and CT Scans to my ongoing list of things to cope with during this time period.
But today I went for a CT Scan and despite all of the reassurances that everything would be okay by the nurse, I lay there with my arms back up over my head and said, “I am ready to die, but I can’t right now because I have a son, so no funny stuff” – I told this to whoever was listening to my thoughts and then I proceeded to chant my meditation on Ganasha, the remover of obstacles. And after I finished, I went and got some breakfast because it was now 10:30 and I had not eaten since 6:30 PM the night before and I was ravenous.
I sat at Huevos on Bank Street, possibly one of the best places to get breakfast in New Orleans, and I had a breakfast burrito and a cup of full caf English Breakfast (daring that I am) and read the Times Picayune. At one point, I looked up and on the wall was a photograph of Zapata and below it, a quote from this revolutionary, which said:
Prefiero morir de pie, que vivir de rodillas
And I have to say I adopted that as Wednesday’s motto for how to push on through your minor and major obstacles and persevere.
(translation: I’d prefer to die on my feet than live on my knees)