Thursday: Mom's birthday. My sister, father, and i conspired a celebration at a local seafood restaurant, with my sister bringing flowers and a balloon, and i the cake (or cupcakes, as it was). I could not remember what sort of cake my mother liked: she took one of the chocolate cupcakes to my surprise. Getting four different types of cupcakes was a lovely solution to how to address the what sort of cake to get question, so there was that. And the cupcakes were delectable, with creme or custard in the center. I had one of the mocha cupcakes and was well indulged. (The cakes were from the local Phoenix bakery
The restaurant's fish was also delicious, as well.
Friday morning: more Irma.
In therapy on Wednesday we talked more about changing my frame to see the positive, delightful, and joyous. It's not what i carry around with me usually, and Christine too has a strong tendency to dwell on the disappointments and pains of interactions.
I think one of the things that means is that i shouldn't think that outward experiences need to change for me to consider them happy or delightful or joyous. It's easy for me to identify pleasant sensory experiences: the cake, the basil cocktail that i later topped off with ginger beer. My sister's locally brewed basil beer. The blackened swordfish, and so on.
And next i think it's easy for me to identify my satisfaction. Thanks to Christine's coaching, as she is wonderful at gift-giving, i picked out a silly card with a crab that sang and danced and a bottle of locally produced "Damn Fine Chocolate Liqueur". (North Carolina, where branding appears to have a strong "Damn" component... wait, no, maybe it's just the current hipster branding.) It was good to indulge my mother, although her first instinct is to announce she'll wait to try the liqueur when i'm there.
She'd forgotten how she'd serve me coffee and Kaluha after i'd driven home from college. Exams, plus an 8 hour drive, plus that drink: i'd talk for hours and couldn't remember a thing i told her. I joked it was her truth serum. (When i say, "she'd forgotten", it's tinged with a wary grief. Mom has, by her accounts, forgotten so much of ... everything.)
I think the meal was a happy family occasion. I think that is what it means to be happy with family. In my normal frame i would focus on the too loud restaurant, the lack of deeper connection. But noth the place or time for that.
The most important thing is that i am thankful to have this time with Mom, to celebrate Mom. We're all a little worried about her. She's always been dysfunctional (diagnosis is not my job), but it's clear to me that she is so much more befuddled and fragile. She's aged.
The weather is glorious. I'm looking forward to a good bit of yardwork tonight and tomorrow.
[posting saturday morning, geeze, hit post, will ya?]