Since our writing workshop last week I’ve changed the focus of my paper. I was writing a life history of my father, but due to the state of his treatment right now he would prefer to not share his details right now. This was after conducting a couple interviews with him already. I respect his privacy, so I’ve had to get a quick jump on the topic I’ve switched too. My grandmother recently passed away from Alzheimer’s and her story is one that I’ve always kept in the back of my mind. During her disease, I watched her slowly start to fade into another person and lose capabilities to remember her family and events she once enjoyed. She used to tell me stories about her childhood over and over again and I used to get tired of hearing them but she loved to talk about it. Now I would give anything to hear her tell me those stories like she used too. The last year before she passed away she didn’t understand who we were and she rarely spoke but when we started singing her favorite Indonesian song she would join in, remembering every word. I remembered always being in awe, as I would see her whole demeanor change as she heard familiar music from her past. Our family went through changes as well, we were able to see who would end up helping their own mother through this disease and who wouldn’t. I saw my own flesh and blood in a new light and since then, nothing has ever been the same. This gives me the ability to give life to those moments I saw my grandma overcome her disease all because of her memories.

My grandmother Katerina Rutunuwu recently passed away from Alzheimer’s. I never truly had the stereotypical experience of my grandma baking me cookies or sending me postcards. She lived in Bainbridge Island while I spent my childhood in Maui, Hawaii. She was a 5′ 2” Indonesian womanm proud of her heritage, but always reserved. I heard many stories of her strict parenting from my mother, that Katerina supported her five children on her own. My Oma is the only grandparent of mine that I got to know, everyone else passed away before I got to know them.  It wasn’t until we moved to Port Townsend, Washington that we lived close enough to spend time with her. My earliest memories with my grandma were watching her favorite show, wrestling. Her small apartment building always smelled like curry and rice. Her Mont Blanc pen would lay next to personalized stationary and her hand writing was distinctly elegant.

My grandma had lived in that small apartment for over ten years. When I was a sophomore in High School, we started to get panicked calls from her in the middle of the night. One night she said that the people washing the outside of the apartment windows had climbed in while she was gone and stolen her jewelry. The next time she called she said that her neighbors were talking about her and she refused to leave her apartment. Finally, she told us that my cousin Chloe had stolen some of her clothes from her apartment. None of us knew why she was suddenly so suspicious of everyone in her life. Eventually she became so hysterical and afraid that we knew there had to be some reason for her change in character.

My grandma was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and taken to Crista Shores Retirement home in Silverdale, Washington. It was around this time that I saw our whole family start to fall apart. My Uncle Bobby was off traveling the world as a crew member on The Royal Princess cruise liner and rarely came home to Washington. My Uncle Rio lived in Seattle, Washington and complained he lived too far away to visit her. My aunt Kerrie felt too busy to visit. At first I understood their excuses, but I watched my own mom get more frustrated everyday with her mother’s growing disease and her siblings neglect. Eventually, we got a call that Oma had been wondering the halls at night. She didn’t know where she was at times. None of the family members (including my parents) felt that they could handle taking care of her full time. She then had to be moved into an assisted living home farther away from us, in Seattle.
I remember a time that my mom, grandma, and I were driving back to our home from shopping together in Silverdale. We were having my grandma over for the weekend and we were driving over the Hood Canal Bridge. At the time I thought I had bought the most adorable Rocket Dog brand slip on shoes (I was in the eighth grade) they had imprints of puppies on them. Anyway, a song played on the radio that involved a lot of drum solos and sing-a longs. Suddenly my grandmother put her hands in a fist and started banging them across my shoe box and singing along to the music. We all chimed in. There were moments like this that made us all forget my grandma was sick, and she could come back to us through music.
As the years started drifting by, my grandma became more and more unresponsive. While she was sick, her youngest child Bobby passed away of cancer at only 45. She attended the celebration we had for his life but she didn’t know why she was there. That was one of the hardest moments for my mom, Oma didn’t even remember who all of her children were most of the time. Her own son passed away, and she never knew.

To be continued/edited..

There is something romantic about reading Dora Bruder by Patrick Modiano. It’s not the story itself. But the reminiscence of Paris in the 1910′s and 20′s. I want to be there. Maybe, only because I have never been there. This time seems almost ancient to me. Ah, to be in a Jewish quarter of Paris in the year 1912. Long before television. We could place our chairs on the sidewalk and smoke cigarettes and drink iced water. Is this even before cars? People walking down the street. I often walk alone on the sidewalks now. The place itself isn’t necessarily romantic. But to think of it is romantic. And the woods then. So many more trees, such a vast forest. Kisses and lipstick.

When I finally get the chance to take a walk in the woods, my world relaxes and I wonder to myself “what is so important?… that I spend all of this time away from the woods, a forest, nature, laying in a field, hiking, etc?”. How could these things I fill my day up with be SOO important?

After all, I do have ambition. I want to create this and participate in that, But my life gets filled up with all of these obligations and ambitions and I lose all of the time I COULD USE to sit quietly or to take a walk in the woods. To lay in a field and feel the ferns rustle and the planes fly overhead.

I will even walk in the rain! I enjoy it just as much! (I am not a fan of the destructive being known as John Lennon but I do appreciate some of his words) “When the rain comes, they run and hide their heads. They might as well be dead. When the rain comes. I can show you that when it rains and shines. It’s just a state of mind. I can show you”

So this week has been quite busy. I had class Monday, Wednesday and Thursday. On my day’s off I had to conquer the disorganization of my small but quaint duplex after reading numerous pages of Proust and Modiano. Friday was an exciting day, I was able to sit down with the gentle yet firm Mrs. Strange. The 91 year old lady I am going to be interviewing on May 5th. We seemed to hit it off right away and she and I cannot wait till interview day. Friday was also the day in which I got to sit back and relax at the Great Wolf Lodge. This was a place to go for fun! I talked with my sister-in-law before my trip to the city of lights and we made arrangements and payments to stay one night at the Hotel which comes fully equipped with an indoor water park. This place is an amazing family friendly experience. When we first arrived we stood in front of the picturesque scenery that was laid out in front of the reception desk. My sister-in-law Tesa, her older son Cameron and younger daughter my niece Kiaya were all excited to be in such a magical place. But I don’t think anyone was as excited as my own daughter Alyssa. As soon as we approached the large wooden carved door her mouth fell open and her eyes brightened. She had just walked into a fairytale and she was the main character. As soon as we were able to check in, we changed into our suites and it was off to the gigantic water park. As soon as you open the doors you feel the rush of 80 degree heat hit your face, you hear the laughter and see the waves from the wave pool splashing against the man made beach. We played in the wave pool and waterfall tree house for the majority of the time before making our way to the water slides. Once on the water slides we all started to feel the ping of hunger so we left and decided to go to the Grill for dinner. The time passed so fast the next thing you know we are playing in the arcade on the 2nd floor located closely to the room we had been assigned. We were having so much fun by the time we realized we had run out of paw points and it was time to turn in our tickets for a prize at the counter. My daughter smiled as she received her prizes. Once we all had finished our paw points and received our prizes we went to the room and it wasn’t long before we all fell asleep.

Warm weather always makes me nostalgic. Like most people, my summers are what I remember best from my childhood. It always seemed like the only time of the year when I had any control over myself and my time. In reality, of course, my sisters controlled my actions most of the time. I followed them everywhere and did whatever they wanted to do. It wasn’t exactly that I admired them exactly, but I did feel bigger and more important when I was with them.

Sometimes they took advantage of how willing I was. Kate, my sister closest in age, used to make me memorize things (number sequences, song lyrics, dance routines, dialogue sequences from movies, anything) and have me recite or perform them for her on command. I still remember most of them. For the most part, however, my sisters were content to just let me walk a step or two behind them while they embarked on whatever adventure they decided on that day.

Usually we walked along the creek behind our house, hopping from stone to stone and occasionally disappearing into the trees. We would find the biggest sticks we could and play hockey with pine cones. Once, a couple teenagers built a fort to smoke and drink in and accidentally burned it down. After that, my sisters and I always walked through the charred, ashy remains. I think it made all of us feel bigger and more important.

It was a challenge when i first started interviewing my mom, because she answered very vaguley. She would say something like, “my mother’s name is______ and this happened_____but you remember that don’t you.” There were several times where I had to remind her to talk to me as if the newspaper was doing a segment on her and I was this stranger who needed to know every detail. So as she got in the habit of reminding herself the interview went even smoother. While she shared things such as, her earliest memories with her siblings and even the history of our family. I couldn’t help but try to relate her the memories that she shared. Like when she was talking about how growing up she was really close with her older sister Carol and how she went everywhere with her and had cute “inside jokes,” that they’re pretty much best friends. I couldn’t help but think about my oldest sister and my relationship, that it’s the same as theirs. Another time she shared about when she went on her first date with my dad. She wasn’t never so upfront about how old she was when she met my dad and about my dad’s past and when she told me that they walked on the beach and that their first kiss was in a cavern. I just got such a better understanding of their love and how it started and it made me appreciate my parents more.

(Something in my past that helps me understand why I chose this project)

Growing up there were so many memories of me and my mom. We’ve always been such good friends. We do everything together. At first it started off as just normal mother and child things like, going to the store, picking up the laundry, dropping my sibblings off at school and picking them up. But then it grew into her bringing me to work with her and going to PTA meetings with her. After we moved from Louisiana I feel like our friendship strengthened, staying home on the weekends having craft nights, movie nights. My friendship with my mom started to dwindle when I graduated high school. Everything that i built with her started crumbling down around me so fastly, especially her respect and trust for me went out the window.

But the memory that stands out the most for me that made me decide to write my project about her is the moment I realized how much I took her for granted after everything she has sacrificed and done for me. This memory didn’t happen not too long ago, actually 19 months and five days ago:

A nurse walks over, wrapping him in an itchy hospital baby blanket. Even though my body’s still shacking my eyes could not be more still, just staring at this beautiful baby boy who I just brought into the world. I remember the nurse asking me if i wanted to nurse him and instinctively I pull down on my gown. The moment my breast flopped down I watched his little body crawl across my chest searching for the nipple and the minute he latched on I felt this deep sense of pride.  I glanced over at my mom who stood only a few feet away from me and she was looking at me with this nostalgic, peaceful serene look. It made me feel good that, for the first time in a long time she was proud of me. I have not want to do anything but make my parents proud, especially my mom what she thinks of me means the world and that’s how i knew i wanted to do my project on my mom.

While reading the first assigned section of “Within a Budding Grove” I started to notice many similarities between how the narrator was presenting himself and the way Swann was presented in “Swann in Love.”  This makes sense as we’ve discussed in class how early in the Combray section of the text the narrator mentions how he feels Swann would most understand or is most similar to himself.

The first time I noted this was on page 398.  The narrator states, “…our imagination is set going by the desire for what we cannot possess…”  Swann was not interested in Odette in the beginning of their love affair, when she was completely willing to seeing him any time he wished, and only after she began to become more unavailable did his obsession truly flourish.  The narrator is swept up by desire for these quick glimpses of women, though he questions if the time in their presences were longer his attraction would be as strong or exist at all.  They are both caught by this inability to have and desire that which is still shrouded in mystery.  In this the reader is also reminded of the theme of seeking.  In “Swann in Love,” Swann has an episode where he searches through many restraints for Odette, but there is an admittance that it is not really about finding her, but instead the inability to call of the search.  He is turned on by the act of seeking, or searching, of the chase.  This is echoed in “Within a Budding Grove” on page 404 when the narrator posses the girl (though immaterially) and she loses her mystery and he, his desire.

Another similarity addressed on page 402; where the narrator states, “But it was not only her body that I would like to attain…”  When it comes to romantic feelings both characters express a need to possess the love interest.  It is not enough to meet the other character on equal ground; they feel the need to lay claim or feel dominion/ownership over another.  This is echoed on page 404 when the word “possession” is used multiple times.  There is also an interesting correspondence brought up on 403; the narrator doesn’t truly want to know the girl for who she really is.  He wants to maintain this idea of her that he has formulated in his mind, as he has with all “peasant girls.”  This is correlated to how Swann denies the truth of Odette’s personality, lifestyle, and type in favor or a fantasy he has concocted.

There is another strong link towards the end of this section, on page 495 and the few pages preceding this. The narrator discusses Saint-Loup’s love affair with his mistress.  He explains how she changed him, and in many ways made him a better man.  He cares for her a great deal and less for the superficiality of “society.”  Then abruptly, the reader gets the line, “It is true that he had already drawn from her all the good she was capable of giving him; and that now she caused him only incessant suffering…”  Just as with Swann, Saint-Loup is lost in the blindness of his love and obsession and clings on.  She has become disinterested and even cruel, even informing of him when he can and cannot return to Paris as Odette controlled Swann’s movement and “feathering her nest” with the money he sends her.

Pg. 53-55

I am writing about the passage that starts on page 53 when Odette is trying to hint to Swann about marriage, and ends on page 55 end of the 1^st paragraph ending with salon.

I picked this passage because it shows Odette’s mindset. She’s pretty much talking about how she married Swann for his Esteem, however she’s not getting it. She’s mentioning how another lady married a man she barely lived with and had no children with but is getting invited to more Balls and parties. She blames her not getting invited to these kinds of parties on Swanns behavior, funny how she doesn’t blame her reputation at all. She goes on to talk about how much people change when they are in love. How their friends hardly recognize them. She also mentions how people who date or even marry adopt each other’s points of views.

This passage puts us in Odette’s mind. It shows us why she married him. Please comment so we can compare notes.

-Celia Avitia-