Sleep experiment: in bed by 10PM

Each night, when I go to sleep, I die. And the next morning, when I wake up, I am reborn.
– Mahatma Gandhi

Pajama-style outfits are still trending. Regal navy with cream piping is a more subdued and classical version.

Pajama-style outfits are still trending. Regal navy with cream piping is a more subdued and classical version.

I’ve been writing about healthcare information technology since 2003, and in that time I’ve had the honor of learning and writing about (and meeting thrice fleetingly) an industry icon who to me is today’s version of the Renaissance Man. John Halamka, MD, has more titles than a dozen people put together. He’s chief information officer at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center in Boston, chairman of the New England Healthcare Exchange Network, co-chair of the HIT (Healthcare Information Technology) Standards Committee, professor at Harvard Medical School, practicing emergency physician, author, blogger (Life as a Healthcare CIO), board member of a nonprofit established by the Veterans Affairs Department, mushroom and poisonous plant expert to the Regional Center for Poison Control and Prevention, and farmer, who recently finished building a bridge and pier on his farm.

I have to catch my breath now. I have seen Dr. Halamka in action at conferences. He’s texting and reading e-mails while waiting his turn to speak at panel presentations, and completely smashing what one physician told me years ago that men’s brains are not built to be able to multi-task like women’s brains apparently are. When he breezed into our news room at our annual conference some years back, and everyone was in awe of everything that he does in so little time, he announced that he gets by on average on four hours of sleep. Ah-hah! I told myself. That’s his secret. He must possess that rare genetic mutation that was discovered in 2009. Sleep researchers found two DNA samples from two sleep study participants that had abnormal copies of the DEC2 gene, which affects circadian rhythms. These two women sleep study participants got by on six hours of sleep, going to be between 10PM and 10:30PM and getting up refreshed around 4AM to 4:30AM, ready to start their day.

Comfortable, easy styling with glittery jewels, clutch, and metallic pumps.

Comfortable, easy styling with glittery jewels, clutch, and metallic pumps.

For the longest time, I have been getting by on less than the suggested eight hours of sleep. Sleep deprivation was my middle name among my friends. It was the only way I could do everything I needed to do – get my work done for my day job, raise kids, housekeeping, get to my novel, do the volunteering for my kids’ schools, and more recently blog. I routinely went to bed around two and got up at six. During the busy season at work, I would routinely pull all-nighters and sometimes 48-hour work days and not show any signs of wear and tear the following day. And since that rare genetic mutation was discovered, I thought I, too, was in possession of that abnormal gene.

And then I got older and in the last two years I started feeling fatigued all the time. I would wake up exhausted. I thought to myself that it must be I was carrying my stress into my sleep. If only my four to six hours of sleep were restful and uninterrupted, I would be fine. I thought older people needed less sleep, so what was my problem? I thought I must be “going through the changes” and once that was over I would be fine. But I didn’t have years to endure to get back to my normal pattern. In addition to not getting restful sleep, it must be the food I’m eating, I deduced. My body must be changing and reacting to foods I have been eating for years. A couple of Christmases ago, I thumbed through a book that my brother-in-law had gotten for David’s parents called Wheat Belly. That’s it! I told myself. Gluten must be the source of my fatigue! I need to start doing food elimination to discover the culprit, if it’s not indeed gluten.

Dramatic Ben-Amun drop earrings (Personal Pizazz, Berkeley, CA) and my mom's ring.

Dramatic Ben-Amun drop earrings (Personal Pizazz, Berkeley, CA) and my mom’s ring.

A few months ago, I was telling my friend and mom’s group member, Mimi, about my fatigue and tracing it to food, and she didn’t bat an eyelash as she told me in her usual frank tone of voice, “How about getting enough sleep?” I tried to brush her off. I’m used to getting by on less sleep than most people. But I’m realizing it’s not true. And if a study published in December 2013 by Duke University researchers is any indication, I need to change my dangerous ways. The study revealed that women need more sleep than men and that the amount of sleep is more closely tied to health issues for women than it is for men. I know that sleep deprivation, especially long-term, damages the brain to the point that it resembles a football player’s brain that has suffered several concussions. Heart disease, blood clots, stroke, depression – stop! I didn’t want to hear any more of what I was doing to my body! I couldn’t ignore it any longer.

In the last few weeks, especially, I have been feeling exhausted upon waking up every morning – not just every other morning, as has been the case for several months. I’d been told that women should go to bed around 10PM because the two hours between 10PM and midnight were critical for women to get sleep. But, I sputtered upon hearing that fact, those two hours are when I’m full-bore doing multiple things – blogging, writing, folding laundry, catching up. But in recent weeks I have noticed how it is taking me twice as long to do anything. Those Duke University researchers discussed how women, who are natural multi-taskers, need their brains, particularly the cortex, which is the seat of memory, language, thought, and so on, to go into recovery mode so they could function properly the next day. What good was I if I had to take twice as long to work on my novel or blog? Pushing through was simply not going to work anymore.

Simple, easy, and comfortable - yet elegant.

Simple, easy, and comfortable – yet elegant.

So I began my sleep experiment earlier this week. Get to bed by 10PM and see what happens. I have to admit that I have not felt exhausted every morning. I didn’t manage to be in bed by 10PM two nights this week. I got to bed at 10:30PM one night and 11PM another night. The onset of fatigue on some of those days didn’t hit until midday. I was greatly encouraged by these early results. Some nights my body was ready to drop off to sleep that early. Other nights I tossed around, understanding that my body was not used to going to bed so early.

But I’m more alert and more productive during the day. I’m heartened by that immediate change. I tell myself that I’ll be able to get more done when rested than I would if I stick to my old ways. I have always prided myself on being healthful. Eat healthfully. Check. Exercise regularly. Check. I have never been good about sleep; sometimes, wrongly, wearing sleep deprivation like a badge of honor. I’ve thrown the badge away. While I wish I could be my version of Dr. Halamka, I realize I need to take care of my health first. The rest will come later.

Close-up: Only a few sparkling touches needed to complete this outfit.

Close-up: Only a few sparkling touches needed to complete this outfit.

April is National Poetry Month: honoring Czeslaw Milosz

The act of writing a poem is an act of faith.
– Czeslaw Milosz, Polish poet and Nobel Prize winner

A nostalgia feel to this outfit.

A nostalgic 1950s feel to this outfit.

I had the honor of hearing Czeslaw Milosz read his poetry while he was still teaching in Berkeley many years ago. I didn’t know that much about him at the time, but I knew he was an important poet of our time, as he had already won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1980. Milosz’s family fled from the political upheaval plaguing their homeland of Lithuania when he was young. As an adult, he fled the Soviet takeover of Poland with the installation of the Communist regime after World War II and settled in the United States.

As you can imagine, Milosz lived a full life and wrote about the affirmation of human life and the survival of humanity in a world devastated by war and political ideologies. But his poetry is accessible and heartfelt. In honor of National Poetry Month, I celebrate Czeslaw Milosz’s poetry. Consider this an opening of a window for those who aren’t familiar with his poetry to reach out and read more of his work. Here is his timely poem, “Late Ripeness”:

Not soon, as late as the approach of my ninetieth year,
I felt a door opening in me and I entered
the clarity of early morning.

One after another my former lives were departing,
like ships, together with their sorrow.

And the countries, cities, gardens, the bays of seas
assigned to my brush came closer,
ready now to be described better than they were before.

I was not separated from people,
grief and pity joined us.
We forget—I kept saying—that we are all children of the King.

For where we come from there is no division
into Yes and No, into is, was, and will be.

We were miserable, we used no more than a hundredth part
of the gift we received for our long journey.

Moments from yesterday and from centuries ago—
a sword blow, the painting of eyelashes before a mirror
of polished metal, a lethal musket shot, a caravel
staving its hull against a reef—they dwell in us,
waiting for a fulfillment.

I knew, always, that I would be a worker in the vineyard,
as are all men and women living at the same time,
whether they are aware of it or not.

from Collected Poems, 1931-1987. Copyright © 1988 by Czeslaw Milosz Royalties, Inc.

Icy jewelry pop against a black sweater: Earrings and matching necklace from Personal Pizazz (Berkeley, CA), vintage Eisenberg rhinestone bracelet (L'Armoire, Albany, CA), and my mother's wedding ring and band on my pinkie finger and ring that she gave me from her family in 1972.

Icy jewelry pop against a black sweater: Earrings and matching necklace from Personal Pizazz (Berkeley, CA), vintage Eisenberg rhinestone bracelet (L’Armoire, Albany, CA), and my mother’s wedding ring and band on my pinkie finger and ring that she gave me from her family in 1972.

Silver metallic pumps and textured clutch finish off the black sweater and full skirt.

Silver metallic pumps and textured clutch finish off the outfit of black sweater and full skirt with an ethereal print.

Close-up of vintage and contemporary icy jewelry.

Close-up of vintage and contemporary icy jewelry.

A Rainy March Sunday at the Alameda flea market

I love going to flea markets, especially when I’m traveling, because I love seeing the stuff of other cultures, handicrafts and things with historical content.
– Anna Sui, American fashion designer

I had heard of the Alameda flea market for quite a while, but I had never been. My friend, Raissa, who has gone a number of times, and I made plans for the first Sunday in February. But after a glorious January with temps in the 70s, the rains came and we had to wait until the first Sunday in March. Well, it was misty on that day and then it started drizzling, with a chill rolling in like fog. We were chased out after only a couple of hours of methodically making our way to the entrance from the back. We obviously didn’t hit everything or have the opportunity to walk leisurely around. But it only means that we will be back when the sun is shining – perhaps with a flatbed in tow!

Beautiful antique ceiling tins and mirrors. Oh, to have a big old empty house to fill with antiques and vintage wares and furniture.

Beautiful antique ceiling tins and mirrors. Oh, to have a big old empty house to fill with antiques and vintage wares and furniture!

Despite the weather, while there weren’t as many vendors as there would have been in good weather, there were plenty of interesting wares to admire, even if we did zoom by as the mist turned heavy and into rain. We took business cards, made a note of where the vendors were on the grid, and committed to memory what particular things they handcrafted or were selling that we appreciated.

Lely Howard, "builders of repurposed reclaimed custom furniture," reminds me of Good Goods. You can reach him at 707.321.7005, sales@lelyhoward.com.

The work of Lely Howard, “builders of repurposed reclaimed custom furniture,” reminds me of Good Goods – industrial mixed with rustic. You can reach him at 707.321.7005, sales@lelyhoward.com.

Here are some of the moments I captured on my maiden voyage:

Wine country aesthetic of Lely Howard's goods.

Wine country aesthetic of Lely Howard’s goods.

More beautiful displays by Lely Howard.

A close-up of a beautiful display by Lely Howard.

Elsie Green (2954 Treat Blvd., Suite C-D, Concord, 866.575.4437, www.elsiegreen.com) had the most amazing displays! I got a lot of decorating tips from this green shop.

Elsie Green (2954 Treat Blvd., Suite C-D, Concord, 866.575.4437, www.elsiegreen.com) had the most amazing tabletop displays! I got a lot of decorating tips from this green shop.

Another amazing dining arrangement from Elsie Green.

Another beautiful dining arrangement from Elsie Green.

We had a great time trying on vintage and antique jewelry from "treasure hunter and stylist" Heather Tenaya, who travels the world in search of beautiful jewelry. You can see her goods at Vin.Jewels.com, GypsyRoadStudio.Etsy.com.

We had a great time trying on vintage and antique jewelry at the booth of “treasure hunter and stylist” Heather Tenaya, who travels the world over in search of beautiful jewelry. You can see her goods at Vin.Jewels.com and GypsyRoadStudio.Etsy.com.

Dramatic and stunning 1920s Czech glass drop earrings!

Dramatic and stunning 1920s Czech glass drop earrings!

1920s French onyx and sterling silver necklace.

1920s French marcasite, onyx, and sterling silver necklace, a la Great Gatsby.

 

International Women’s Day: take chances, make a difference, be extraordinary

I challenge women and girls to learn from example and have the courage to overcome mediocrity. Give yourself the chance to be extraordinary.
– Saundra Pelletier, CEO of WomanCare Global

Stand tall!

Stand tall! And carry a Stuart Weitzman clutch from consignment shop Secondi (Washington, DC).

My friend, Laurel Kallenbach, posted on Facebook this past Tuesday that in honor of Women’s International Day, which is on March 8th, she made a loan through Kiva Microfunds. Her recipient is a female entrepreneur in Tajikstan, sister city of Boulder, CO, where Laurel lives. But Laurel did more than just give a helping hand to another woman. She put forth a valuable challenge to us all: “The way I see it, the celebration of women’s talents and achievements should receive recognition for a whole month, so I challenge you to help a woman succeed in your home town or around the world sometime during the month of March,” she wrote.

Taking up the challenge
International Women’s Day has been celebrated for more than 100 years, dating back to 1908, when 15,000 women marched through New York City to demand shorter work hours, better pay, and voting rights, which too many of us take for granted – the voting rights, that is; we still have the glass ceiling. While it’s a day to honor women’s struggles around the world, Laurel’s right in that we should honor them for a month, if not every day in our thoughts, words, and actions. Laurel’s call to action is also a wonderful way to go beyond a single act of humanity and send out ripples across the ocean, so to speak, to create greater impact.

When the tough get going, throw on a reversible knit-and-lace duster.

When the tough get going, throw on a reversible knit-and-lace duster.

Inspired by Laurel’s actions and challenge, I, too, went to the Kiva site and am funding a woman from the Philippines so that she can buy a new variety of seed (hopefully not Monsanto!) and organic fertilizer for her farm and tires for her motorcycle. It was easy to do, and I encourage everyone who is able to make a microloan of $25 to a low-income and/or underserved entrepreneur or student from around the world to do so. Begun as an initiative by Matt Flannery and Jessica Jackley in 2004, Kiva was founded in 2005 as a nonprofit organization that brings borrowers and lenders together via an online lending platform. In October 2013, Kiva hit the 1 million lender milestone, with $537 million lent to Kiva to date. The organization has made nearly 680,000 loans, with nearly 1.1 million users who have funded a loan. Check out Jessica Jackley’s TED talk.

Taking risks
As I thought more about International Women’s Day, I came across a blog post by Saundra Pelletier, CEO of WomanCare Global, an international nonprofit organization that improves the lives of women by providing access to quality, affordable women’s reproductive health products through a sustainable supply chain. Pelletier grew up in a small farming community in northern Maine. Her mother decided that she didn’t want her daughter to follow the “Betty Crocker” fate of many girls in the area – getting married and having babies and living a domesticated home life – so she raised Pelletier to be an independent thinker who eschewed conformity. Wow! She was so lucky to have such an unconventional mother. Pelletier understands how fortunate she was and that many girls and women don’t or did not have, respectively, strong female role models in their families, neighborhoods, or communities in their formative years and beyond.

Spread your wings and be strong - with lace.

Spread your wings and fly – with lace (one of my favorite sweater coats, almost a decade old – the dress, too! Be green: Hang on to the unique timeless, high-quality clothing and accessories and pass them down to your daughters, nieces, and so on).

Even with this handicap, she wants us all to know that strong female role models exist. We just have to seek them outside of our homes, neighborhoods, and communities, to look outside and elsewhere. “All you need to do is to seek them out for inspiration and learn by their example,” Pelletier wrote. “Every woman needs a cavalry of mentors, emotional supporters, helpful taskmasters, and strategic alliances.” As nurturers of the tribe, so to speak, women were not raised to be risk takers. But the world has changed and continues to evolve and being a risk taker is what Pelletier asks us to become. “By taking risks, not only do we learn to be brave, but we discover opportunities that lead to miraculous outcomes,” she wrote. “The women who accomplish the most are often the ones who are willing to take chances.”

Mixing vintage and contemporary accessories: vintage choker (Vintage Underground, Chicago) and Lava 9 necklace and ring (Berkeley, CA).

Mixing vintage and contemporary accessories: vintage choker (Vintage Underground, Chicago) and Lava 9 necklace and ring (Berkeley, CA).

More vintage and contemporary: Abacus earrings (Portland, ME), Lava 9 ring (Berkeley, CA), and eBay finds: antique necklace and Miriam Haskell pearl necklace.

More vintage and contemporary: Abacus earrings (Portland, ME), Lava 9 ring (Berkeley, CA), and eBay finds: antique necklace and Miriam Haskell pearl necklace.

Making a difference
When I first sat down in my overstuffed library chair and ottoman to write this blog post last night, I was tired and drowsy. But as I warmed up to this celebratory topic, I became fully awake. As a woman in her 50s, I hold dear the call to take chances and make a difference. I was an incredibly shy girl, terrified of taking risks for which the outcome was in question. I did not rock the boat. I took the straight and narrow path – the sure thing. My parents stressed the importance of a college education, but beyond that and the expectation of marriage and children there was no other guidance. All those are important to me, of course, but making a difference in the world was in my DNA, long before I could articulate my desires. Making a difference has taken on many forms throughout my life. Now with a daughter, I see the call to action evolving yet again, especially where girls and women are concerned.

Lace on the outside, but strong as steel on the inside.

Lace on the outside, but strong as steel on the inside.

The International Women’s Day site entreats us all to “make a difference, think globally and act locally.” Get inspired every day. Help make the world a better place for girls to grow up in and women to thrive. For me, it’s fitting to celebrate March 8th at the Lunafest film festival in El Cerrito, with my women friends and my community – enjoying women filmmakers’ achievements in nine short films, fundraising for local organizations and especially The Breast Cancer Fund, and supporting local women entrepreneurs. Even as March 8th passes, make every day Women’s Day by helping other women become extraordinary. By engaging in this act of humanity and heroism (as a heroine) we become extraordinary ourselves. By taking risks, we will find the miraculous outcomes for which we are destined.

Vintage is green and beautiful: choker from Vintage Underground (Chicago).

Vintage is green and beautiful: choker from Vintage Underground (Chicago). Alkemie scarab cuff is made from recycled metal. Purse from Secondi consignment shop (Washington, DC).

Vintage is green and beautiful: vintage pearl bracelet.

Vintage is green and beautiful: vintage pearl bracelet with Sundance necklace and Anthropologie clutch.

Vintage is green and beautiful with lace: antique necklace and Miriam Haskell pearls.

Vintage is green and beautiful with lace: antique necklace and Miriam Haskell pearls – eBay finds – with embroidered and beaded purse from L’ Armoire consignment shop (Albany, CA) and Sundance bracelet.

Acupuncture with love

A wise man ought to realize that health is his most valuable possession.
– Hippocrates, ancient Greek physician

Feeling much better, with my blue-gray crocheted capelet and jeans.

Feeling better, with my blue-gray crocheted capelet and jeans.

Last fall I went through several months of working weeknights and weekends. As stress wore my body down, my sciatica returned, my back started aching, the thumb of my left hand, which is my writing hand, began hurting, and I wondered if arthritis had kicked in. My mother had suffered from arthritis, but I was hoping it was from years of packing oranges in the winter and picking grapes in the summer, and that it was not genetic. I kept telling myself that I needed to make an appointment with my acupuncturist. But then I also told myself that I didn’t have time to go because there was too much to do, which is an irrational excuse.

Fast forward to January. One of my New Year’s Resolutions is to take better care of myself. I’ll admit that it took a hard bike seat, the return of my sciatica and back pain, and another stressful time at work to make good on that promise to myself. So I made an appointment with my acupuncturist, Portia Lee, at Traditional Ways Healing Center (6931 Stockton Avenue, El Cerrito, CA 94530, 510.799.8788). My appointment this past week happened to be on the day that I had pulled an all-nighter to fix a botched project by a contracted writer that was due to our client on a tight deadline. I told Portia that I was going through a period of stress in my work, but things were supposed to change.

Vintage rhinestones by Vendome and Elizabeth Ng antique button ring (Abacus, Portland, ME).

Vintage rhinestones by Vendome and Elizabeth Ng antique button ring (Abacus, Portland, ME).

Much of my recent stress was in not knowing if my contracted writers would turn in well-written white papers, as I believe in standing by quality work and wouldn’t dream of submitting an inferior product to a client. The workload had gotten to the point where I had to outsource anything that came in because I couldn’t do it myself. I knew that my writing was capable and dependable, but once a project was out of my hands, I worried about what the contractor would turn in to me. Would it require simple redlining or a major overhaul? Does that qualify me to be a control freak? Then I’m guilty.

Portia listened patiently to my babble as she felt my pulse and asked me to point out where my aches and pains were across my body. I was on my stomach first and then my back, for two long periods of having needles at various points redirecting the flow of my energy. I focused on trying to relax my muscles with the help of a heat lamp and a CD of instrumental music. After the second batch of needles were removed, I was expecting her to say, okay, we’re done, go ahead and get dressed, and I’ll meet you at the front desk.

Vintage love and crochet.

Vintage love and crochet.

Instead, Portia sat down beside the table on which I was still reclined. She told me how concerned she was about my health, how my comment about being in a temporary state of stress every time I came in was in fact my permanent state of being. David has always given me a hard time about this, as well, for years. I knew it at some level, but ignored it. I thought I couldn’t allow myself to recognize it because there was too much to do. I have been able to suffer through these periods and feel none the worse, or so it seemed. In the last few years, I have felt myself slowing down, have admitted it to myself finally. And I promised myself months ago that I would not pull another all-nighter again. But I did. And it will take perhaps a week or more to recover, to get back to the balance I was trying so hard to achieve since the holidays.

Wearing a necklace against lacy crochet is too much, so stick with a bold ring and earrings.

Bold but simple ring and earrings.

Portia went on to say how companies have a way of squeezing so much energy out of us, and at great cost. But once we leave, we are left with having to pick up the pieces of broken health, so to speak. Once we are gone, the company doesn’t care. (One may argue that the company may not care even when you are there!) So we have to take care of ourselves in the here and now, but just as important, for the future.

I was deeply touched by Portia’s genuine concern. I could see it in her face and hear it in her voice and feel it in the room. I promised to be better to myself. I had already planned on coming in more regularly to keep my balance. I thanked her. And as I said goodnight – two hours later, darkness already descended outside – to her, her sweet daughter, and her big but gentle dog, I felt such warmth and lightness. I felt such gratitude to have someone really care about my health. As I drove home, I told myself to be good to myself. As someone once said: “Take care of your body. It’s the only place you have to live.”

Elegant and casual: Silver, blue-gray, and black, with blue jeans.

Elegant and casual: Silver, blue-gray, and black, with blue jeans.

Gray booties and statement ring and silver earrings crafted by Miao Chinese artisans (Caravan Gallery, La Conner).

Gray booties and statement ring and silver earrings crafted by Miao Chinese artisans (Caravan Gallery, La Conner).

Confronting grief, again

It has been said, ‘time heals all wounds.’ I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.
– Rose Kennedy, matriarch of the Kennedy family

As I headed into 2014 I had high hopes for and a high level of energy to tackle all the things I was looking forward to accomplishing this year. As the month comes to a close, I find myself bewildered to be in a place of stasis – as in motionlessness. Where did all the energy go and why am I not where I thought I would be?

I have been preoccupied with getting a lot of work-related projects through and worrying about them, and as we all know stress can strip one’s energy. I find myself falling asleep around 8:30 in the evenings, without the benefit of a glass of wine at dinnertime to induce drowsiness. I started feeling exhausted again, which has been driven by other culprits such as a soft bed that needs to be replaced, snoring (not mine, though I will admit to snoring), and a sleek new bike seat that I have finally admitted after two weeks that I cannot get used to what feels like sitting on a brick. It makes sense that when you’re wincing on your bike and making adjustments to save your behind, the rest of your body becomes unbalanced, which results in pain – in my case, the whole lower half of my body feels like it belongs to an 80-year-old woman.

Bailey's last day with us, January 17, 2011.

Bailey’s last day with us, January 17, 2011.

Physical ailments aside, as I walked our dog Rex the other morning, I asked myself why I am feeling so aimless when there is so much to do and see. I started thinking about how in the past weeks I have been more attentive to Rex, who recently turned 13, is going deaf, and is part German Shepherd. For the last few years, I have been watching for his tremulous hind legs to start slipping and dragging, and while I see his hind legs buckle ever so slightly, every great once in a while, he has shown remarkable resiliency, likely because he is walked daily and gets exercise going up and down the stairs multiple times a day. He’s on thyroid meds and eats non-grain dog food. He receives a lot of attention from all family members, goes on car rides when I run errands, which he loves, and happily sleeps for hours on his dog bed in the library, next to my home-office desk.

Still in good shape as Rex goes for a late-afternoon backyard search for squirrels.

Still in good shape with rabbit-soft fur, golden in the late afternoon light: Rex in the backyard, searching for squirrels.

Our dog, Bailey, at age 12, passed away three years ago on the Monday night of Martin Luther King, Jr., Day. Whenever I dote on Rex, I am reminded of her passing, of not giving the attention she craved, which is one of the reasons I’m mindful of giving Rex a lot of love. In that quiet moment of crossing the street with Rex on his walk the other day, I fessed up to feeling quite sad that she is gone. Three years later!

One of my favorite photos of my mom and Jacob, summer 2000.

One of my favorite photos of my mom and Jacob, summer 2000. Relaxed and contented, she reclined on the sofa, holding her grandson, who rested his little fingers on her chin.

And then I admitted to myself that I have been thinking a lot of my mother, whose second anniversary of leaving us passed on January 3rd. I had scolded myself after that date this year because I didn’t do anything to remember her. I had a head cold and was working that day. I’m sure there was a part of me that didn’t want to remember anything from that early morning two years ago. For some unknown reason, I have found myself these last couple of weeks turning around, stopping what I was doing and listening, staring out the windows, peering over the divide between the kitchen and family room – looking for, I realized, a sign from my mother. Or actually, expecting my mother, for instance, to be sitting on the family room sofa, as if nothing had changed.

Big smiles for birthday milestones of one and 75, June 2001.

Big smiles for birthday milestones of one and 75, June 2001.

I don’t know if every January will be like this for me. I only recently realized what I was doing and what I was feeling. Bereft. Confused. Once I named my feelings and understood the source, the sadness seemed to grow and become a cloak to me. How one throws off that cloak and carefully folds it and puts it in one’s drawer is different for everyone – as it should be.

Now we are two and 76, with my nephew Joshua, June 2002.

Now we are two and 76, with my nephew Joshua, June 2002.

For me, I asked myself: What would my mother want me to be doing? How best can I honor her memory, honor everything that she had done for me? I told myself: Give myself a hug as if she were hugging me. Keep writing. Get that novel out into the world and get going on the second one. The novel is done, but it’s being carefully and lovingly, I might add, read through by my dear friend, Kathy, who has seen every draft of this novel throughout its 16-plus-year life thus far. So once that task is completed, out it goes into the world. And then on to the second novel. For her. For my beautiful mother.

Another Jacob and Lola birthday celebration, June 2005.

Another Jacob and Lola birthday celebration, June 2005, with Joshua and Isabella.

How I want to remember my mom: Vibrant and happy. With Auntie Rose in their traditional costumes for their dance presentation at the San Esteban Circle Labor Day Weekend festivities, 1995.

How I want to remember my mom: Vibrant and happy. With Auntie Rose, on her left, in their traditional Filipino costumes for their dance presentation at the festivities of the 40th anniversary of the San Esteban Circle, Veterans Memorial Building, Terra Bella, CA, Labor Day Weekend, 1995.