It was a beautiful spring day today, a little blustery, but lovely. A great day to have no work to go to, only driving around doing errands and tasks all by myself. When no one else is in the car with me, I can turn up the radio and therefore hear it. (Otherwise I have to keep it turned down enough to hear conversation, which means other people can hear the radio, but I can't. :<)
Moving on from yesterday. My cousin lived at home with her parents until she was at least 30, maybe later. I know that at some point, her parents moved to a senior citizen community and she didn't live with them after that, but she probably moved out before, I guess once she finally finished college. (She was a very good student always, very book smart.) When she did move out, she rented a room in someone else's apartment. They were not roommates, as such; she was a tenant in someone else's apartment. She had her room, and of course, use of the bathroom and kitchen, although I doubt she used the kitchen much. I think that for a while she probably still joined her parents for dinner every evening. In her apartment, she had a bed and a small portable TV and no other furniture. (She also owned a car.) Everything she owned was still in boxes from when she moved; she used the boxes as her dresser. Oh, did I mention she has a bit of a compulsive shopping problem? I think it started around this time. She doesn't shop for expensive things, she just keeps acquiring more and more stuff. Still does.
She had friends, she socialized, she worked, or so we assumed here in New Jersey. (About the work, I mean; she did have friends and socialize.) The big turning point came in the summer of 1989.
Her older sister, as I've mentioned, is very accomplished. By this time, she had gotten two more master's degrees on top of her first one, had published one book, had traveled all over the world, and had a teenage son. She would visit us here once or twice a year, and was due to come in July. Her sister thought this would be a great opportunity to come and visit us as well, while her sister was here. It's also possible that her parents thought it would be good for her, and set it up. Either way, their schedules overlapped but were not the same, since one was coming from Colorado with her husband and child and the other from L.A. They all stayed in my parents' house.
One rainy afternoon, we sat around my sister's living room -- she lived in a big house then -- and chatted, while chaos reigned around us. Our children were then, let's see ...
Cousin's son, the oldest, turned 16 that week. (His father had gone to visit family out of state.)
JJ, my sister's eldest, was just 15.
Wonderful Niece and Good Guy nephew were 11.
R was 8.
K was 5.
The six of them were actually playing together, chasing each other all over the house, hiding behind the couch we were sitting on, up the stairs, down the stairs, scaring the little ones, big ones carrying the little ones, girls throwing things at boys, you know, the whole house full of children thing. Crazy Cousin was, in a word, overwhelmed.
She was amazed at the three of us, astonished that we could "do it." We looked at each other, blank. "Do what?"
Oh, you know. We had full time jobs and still somehow we found the time each week to do laundry! And go grocery shopping! And most amazing of all, raise children!!!
Uh .... none of the three of us knew how to reply. We were not superwomen. This is what you do, you know. Well, it turned out that she herself only worked part-time, maybe ten hours a week, because how could you possibly work full-time and get that other stuff done? Uh ...
My mother told us later that this made perfect sense to her, because it took the cousin hours and hours every morning just to get ready to leave the house. It might take her an hour to finish a half a piece of toast and a cup of tea. Whatever she did, she did it so slowly that it made everyone around her want to scream.
What was her job, you might wonder? Hold on. When she worked, she worked as a nurse in an AIDS ward. Now, this was the late 80's, so an AIDS ward was essentially a hospice, because there were no real treatments for AIDS then. On the job, she was sharp and quick (although she did once prick herself with a used needle), but she was so compassionate, that she was perfect for this job. It was, of course, incredibly draining emotionally, which she said was another reason she could only work for ten hours a week.
How did she live? No idea, although we've always assumed that her parents subsidized her. They would have had to, I think.
Her trip came to an end. She had a late afternoon flight out of Newark, but was more than happy to be dropped off at the airport hours earlier, even in those pre-security days, because then she wouldn't have to rush to get to the gate. (!) My father dropped her off around noon and then came home. Within an hour, there were sudden hurricane warnings all over the New York-New Jersey area, and all flights out of Newark were canceled.
What to do? My father had to be restrained from driving back in the hurricane to get her. "But her parents entrusted her care to us!" he said. "SHE'S FORTY YEARS OLD!" we told him. "She'll figure it out!"
Did she or didn't she? More tomorrow.
waiting for FRIENDS :: ENTRY #2026
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