Category: family

SoCS: mostly overwhelmed

I’ve spent this summer feeling overwhelmed.

Well, mostly.

I’ve had some rare moments where I feel that things are on the right track so that they will get completed successfully on schedule – and then the next set of complications arises and I’m back to feeling overwhelmed.

I had planned for this summer to be mostly about poetry – learning more about marketing to get Hearts properly launched, working on getting poem and manuscript submissions in, and generating new work and revising after workshopping. Oh, and making preparations for the upcoming Boiler House Poets Collective residency at The Studios at MASS MoCA in North Adams that will begin late this month.

There are a lot of sayings about what happens when you make plans and then life happens and they fall apart. You can insert your favorite here…

I sit on a number of boards or committees as a volunteer, all worthy causes, centered around the environment, social justice, and the arts. They usually only take up a couple of hours a month each, but this summer, all of them seemed to simultaneously encounter a serious obstacle or be presented with an important opportunity that demanded a lot more meetings and a lot of prep work between meetings.

This all plays into my natural tendency to analyse and think deeply and brainstorm possible solutions and really, really care deeply – but this summer, about way too many things at once. With a few family health issues thrown on top and B’s move out of the offices, I’ve been feeling really stressed and that I’m not on top of anything.

Oh, and this month will bring the tenth anniversary of Top of JC’s Mind and I wanted to do some things to celebrate, like finally upgrading to have my own domain name and such. Maybe that will happen?

(You can probably tell I’m having trouble keeping my mind on one thing at a time…)

At least, an end is in sight.

The residency will happen whether or not I’m optimally prepared, followed by the official launch of the Third Act Upstate New York Working Group on October 5 – you’ll be hearing more about that when registration information becomes available – and the first Madrigal Choir of Binghamton concert on October 22nd, which you’ll also be hearing more about closer to the date. And stuff will be going on with church and poetry and blogging and family and the news and on and on.

So, I did say “an end” rather than “the end.”

I know that more complications will arise and there will be more to do and ponder and meet about but I’m making plans to step back in some ways so that I’m not feeling so overwhelmed and can try to concentrate more on poetry again, as I had originally intended.

Not sure if I will manage it or not but you’ll probably (eventually) find out by staying tuned here at Top of JC’s Mind.

At least, I hope so…
*****
Linda’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday this week is “mostly/at least.” Join us! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2023/09/08/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-sept-9-2023/

End of an IBM era

For the first time since 1912, IBM (International Business Machines) does not have a physical footprint in Endicott, New York.

Broome County is the birthplace of IBM, which formed in Endicott as the Computer-Tabulating-Recording Company in 1911. It changed its name to International Business Machines in 1924.

For many decades, under the leadership of legendary CEOs Thomas J. Watson, Sr. and Jr., Endicott maintained a special place within the international corporation, employing thousands of people with several blocks of buildings downtown. They were a huge presence in the community, donating to charitable organizations, organizing volunteer activities, and providing recreation and education for their employees and their families. There were generations of people who worked for the company, which had an ethos of respect and care for their employees and the greater community. Even during the Great Depression of the 1930s, IBM did not lay off workers. The loyalty IBM showed to its workers was returned and there were many families who had multiple members across generations who were IBM employees. Even when IBM headquarters moved elsewhere, Endicott was honored as the birthplace of the company. There was even a company museum on site.

When my spouse B joined IBM in 1989, many of the IBM traditions were still in place but that was about to change. IBM had for decades chosen CEOs from within the company but in 1993 hired Louis Gerstner who massively changed the corporate culture, with layoffs and the attitude that employees were expenses to be cut rather than the expertise that allowed IBM to have products to sell. In 2002, IBM sold the Endicott campus, renting back some space from the new owners, which eventually was whittled down to one, nondescript building.

In March 2020, due to the COVID pandemic, IBM closed access to the building and many months of working from home began. This relaxed somewhat over time and this January, employees began working three days/week in the office and the other two from home. B and his team all came in on the same three days to facilitate collaboration. They also enjoyed lunches together, often taking walks afterward, as they had pre-pandemic.

This spring, though, IBM announced their decision not to renew the lease on the building and not to seek another physical site, ending 112 years in Endicott. The employees remaining, many of whom have over thirty years of experience, will go back to working from home until they retire.

Yesterday, August 31, 2023, was the last day.

B and his team were there working, left their now-empty offices, and turned in their keys.

It’s sad for us and for the community to lose what had been such an integral part of life here, although it has been a long, slow, painful bleed. Some of the old IBM buildings have been renovated and are in use but a number of them are now condemned and awaiting demolition. The good news is that Endicott is being re-cast as a renewable technology/battery hub. There are plans for a gigafactory to make batteries for EVs and such as part of the Triple Cities Innovation Corridor, for which Endicott is the advanced manufacturing hub.

The irony is, of course, that IBM was doing advanced manufacturing on the site for decades and now won’t be onsite for this new era.

One of the buildings that I hope will remain as a monument is the North Street Clocktower building, which is emblazoned on the cake at the beginning of this post. It contains the motto THINK carved into the stone.

A good reminder anytime.

the last building for IBM Endicott

Poem on The Purposeful Mayonnaise

My poem “Grandpa’s pipe smoke lingers on the stoop” has just been published in Issue 3.2 of The Purposeful Mayonnaise, a Canadian-based bimonthly literary and art journal-platform. The theme for this issue is “Home.” It’s available for free download at the link above. Make sure to view all the amazing art and writing, including an interview!

My poem is part of my currently unpublished full-length collection that centers around the North Adams area and my family’s experiences there. I wrote it during the 2019 Boiler House Poets Collective residency at The Studios at MASS MoCA.

Its original title was “122 State Street.” For those of you who know North Adams and who would like to be oriented physically, the location is right before heading over Hadley Overpass toward Main Street.

This poem is about my maternal grandparents’ home when I was in the lower grades of primary school, over fifty years ago now. Remember that your comments are always welcome here at Top of JC’s Mind.

Maui wildfire

Like many people in the United States and around the world, I have been watching the devastating news of the wildfires in Hawai’i, especially on Maui, with sorrow and horror. The confirmed death toll is currently 93 but hundreds of people are still missing, so that total is expected to rise. Eighty per cent of the buildings in Lahaina have been destroyed, along with the livelihoods of most of the residents.

If you are able to contribute to relief efforts, please consider contributing to the Maui Strong Fund, under the auspices of the Hawai’i Community Foundation, which is able to put donations to use immediately on the ground.

One of the difficult things about this tragedy is knowing that it was made worse by human intervention. Climate change is implicated both in the drought conditions in Hawai’i and the strong hurricane, that, while well south of landfall, combined with a high pressure area to send winds up to 80 mph (128 kph) onto the islands that quickly spread the wildfires, knocking out communication infrastructure and trapping many people.

The colonization of the Islands also played a role in the fires, as the landscape and plants have been altered from the species that evolved on Pacific islands. My daughter T, who holds a master’s degree in conservation biology of plants, told me that African grasses that were brought to Hawai’i evolved with fire as part of their lifecycle, burning quickly but than sprouting again soon after. These grasses were implicated in the dangerous speed with which the wildfires spread.

My family has several connections to Hawai’i. B and I visited Kauai for our tenth wedding anniversary and were drawn to the beauty of Hawai’i and the welcoming nature of the people. Our daughter E lived in Honolulu for several years, while studying at the University of Hawai’i – Manoa. She met her spouse L there and they married at their local parish.

Daughter T, while an undergrad at Cornell, spent a Sustainability semester in Hawai’i. They were in residence most of the time on the island of Hawai’i. (There were significant wildfires there as well, but the destruction was not as widespread because of the areas affected.) They also participated in conservation projects on other islands, including Maui. In 2014, B and I went to Hawai’i with T, three years after her semester there. You can read a series of posts about that visit starting here. That visit also led to this poem.

Hawai’i is one of the most remote places on earth, being far away from any of the large continents. Its isolation, though, does not exempt it from the increasing tide of disasters turbocharged by the climate crisis. These tragic wildfires are another reminder that we all need to do what we can to transition to lives that don’t pollute our atmosphere with even more carbon.

United Nations Secretary-General António Guterres is convening a Climate Ambition Summit next month to help speed these efforts. There will be a large March to End Fossil Fuels in New York City on September 17. We need world governments to act NOW. It’s too late for all those lost on Maui and other climate-change influenced disasters around the world. We need to save as many people and other beings as we can in the future.

Review: Barbie

The Barbie doll first appeared for sale in 1959, the year before I was born. As a child, my sisters and I played with some Barbie dolls. I remember that we had Barbie, Francie, and Skipper, who was my favorite because she was a pre-teen, like me. (We also had Ken, but he was superfluous.) Our Barbies had a lot of clothes, some made by my grandmother, but these were the days before there were tons of accessories.

My daughters also had some Barbies in the ’90s. There were Barbies, Teresa, (non-pregnant) Midge, Skipper, Stacie, and Kelly and friends. While there were lots more dolls and lots of accessories available, we didn’t have too many. There were not a lot of career-oriented Barbies at that point, although I remember T, in her imaginary play, creating a scenario where Barbie had a high-paying job because she liked expensive clothes and things but that she gave money to her sister who worked for a charity that helped people. What was important for T was that she had a gymnast Barbie and a couple of ballerina Barbies who could bend their arms and legs, pose, and twirl; T took dance classes and appreciated Barbies who were not stuck in one position. (They also had twin Kens, who were often cast as father-figures to the younger children in the Barbie universe.)

Yesterday, B, T, and I went to a movie theater together for the first time since before COVID to see Barbie. We had all seen the trailers and were expecting an entertaining movie and it did not disappoint. Greta Gerwig, the director and co-writer, along with Noah Baumbach, delivers a film that is multi-layered and attentive to detail. Margot Robbie is amazing as “stereotypical” Barbie who is forced to confront real-world stereotypes and the patriarchy. Ryan Gosling is well-matched as the sometimes clueless, sometimes superfluous Ken. I also enjoyed Simu Liu’s performance as a rival Ken.

While I had expected some laughs – and there were many – I had not expected tears. The story and dialogue of Gloria, tenderly portrayed by America Ferrera, was especially moving for me. I also appreciated the wisdom of Ruth, delivered by Rhea Perlman.

While we tend to think of movies based on toys as being for children, Barbie is not. It is rated PG-13 for good reason. Many tweens would enjoy it, while probably missing some of the social commentary in the film; younger children would most likely find it confusing.

Barbie‘s blockbuster status proves that many, many adults and teens are seeing and enjoying this film. Greta Gerwig has already set box office records for films directed by a woman. Maybe, someday, it won’t be remarkable to point out the gender of a film’s director.

Someday…

(Photo by Elena Mishlanova on Unsplash)

SoCS: five

When I was growing up, five was my favorite number because there were five people in my family, my parents, known here as Nana and Paco, and my two sisters, one older and one younger, and me.

It’s bittersweet to think of that now, with both Nana and Paco having passed on.

I don’t have a favorite number anymore.
*****
Linda’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday this week is to think of a number and write about it. Join us! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2023/08/04/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-aug-5-2023/

Review: The Miracle Club

Do you believe in miracles?

Would you recognize a miracle if you experienced one?

In The Miracle Club, four women from three generations, played by Maggie Smith, Kathy Bates, Laura Linney, and Agnes O’Casey, travel from 1967 Dublin, Ireland to Lourdes, France, in search of miracles.

The women share a complicated history which viewers discover as the movie unfolds.

All of this occurs within the context of Catholicism and Irish family structures that resist women having full agency over their lives. All of the women have suffered losses and are in need of healing but will the waters of Lourdes provide them with the miracles they seek?

People tend to think of miracles as sudden events, where individuals are immediately and fully restored to health. Even at Lourdes, the film points out, those kinds of miracles are rare.

But healing is possible when women, though burdened with their own struggles, support and strengthen each other.

I believe that these are miracles, too.

SoCS: LOL

Back when I was learning my first few acronyms and emoticons – a bit late because I was not an early adopter of cell phones – my older and much more tech savvy daughter was still living at home.

My favorite acronym to use was LOL, which amused my daughter because I would use it for things that literally made me laugh out loud.

Apparently, most people skipped the actual laughing out loud bit…
*****
Linda’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday this week is to base your post on an acronym. Join us! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2023/07/07/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-july-8-2023/

losing our first parent

Today is the eighteenth anniversary of my father-in-law’s death. He was the first of B’s and my parents to pass away. I wasn’t blogging or writing poetry then; it took years for me to process enough to write about his death. This poem was first published by Eunoia Review here in 2016. As it happened, he was the only one of our four parents that we were able to be with at the moment of death.

The Last Night
~ ~ ~ by Joanne Corey

Hospice told my husband what to expect
as his father’s death approached,
skin mottled,
eyes open but unseeing.

Crush the morphine,
mix with water,
spoon into his gaping mouth
every two hours.

The death rattle started,
unmistakable,
though we had never
heard it before.

We did what we could,
smoothing his hair,
holding his hand,
another dose of morphine.

I prayed the rosary silently,
lacking beads,
counting the decades
with my fingers.

When he quieted,
breath slow, gentle,
we woke his wife
of fifty-one years.

She lay beside him that last hour.

Breaths shallower,
with pauses between,
longer –
longer still –
until, near dawn,
no next breath comes.

We switch off
the oxygen concentrator.
Silence heralds
his absence.

SoCS: rocks

When I was a child, I collected rocks in a shoe box. Maybe “collected” is too strong a word as it usually denotes some kind of organization or classification that was not the case. I just picked up rocks that I thought were interesting or pretty for their color or shape.

Rocks were part of every day life – the stepping stones in the brook that we used to get across, the huge boulders under the high lines across from the house, the stones in the yard, the pea-stones along the side of the macadam road.

We had stone samples with garnets in them from the excavation of the underground powerhouse carved out of the mountain for Bear Swamp, a pumped storage power plant that was part of the hydro system that my father oversaw as superintendent of what was then called New England Power. (The plant is still operating over fifty years later, although under another name and company.)

I loved earth science when I took it in high school, so much so that I took a few geology courses when I was in college.

I do still have a few special rocks, including some that have been carved or inscribed with special words. I love their ability to help me feel grounded.

We all come from the earth, after all…
*****
Linda’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday this week is “rock.” Join us! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2023/06/30/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-july-1-2023/