Friend Times

We're on Academy-Dave overload here! We stayed with Dave S., and saw Dave M., in Chicago a couple of weeks ago, and then met Dave McK. for dinner in New Haven on Friday night. He lives in Brooklyn and has been teaching at Yale's art school. He was from my first year, and even though we haven't been in contact since that year ended, we had a really good time. We even spoke a little Italian with the owner, who is originally from Assisi, and was delighted to learn we'd all lived together in Rome.  After dinner we headed down to Milford to get drinks with Sean's friends, two of whom, Pinto and Quinn, just had offers accepted on houses this week. Naturally, I'm slightly envious of their adult settled-ness, but at the same time, buying a house has come to mean the equivalent of "this is it: we're staying here forever" in my mind, and I'm OK with not quite being at that point yet.

Yesterday was my dad's 17th anniversary! Sean commented how it's interesting how mentions of my dad have dropped off over the years on this blog. It's normal, I suppose, because my life has grown so far beyond what it was when he was a part of it. I told him, I really only thought of my dad yesterday in a light-hearted context; I spent most of the day at my sister's house, playing with Charlie and helping my sister haul all of her bulk trash to the curb for pick-up. I teased her about why she doesn't like to leave the front door open, even though it lets in lots of light, and her answer was that someone might be watching her, and I said that's Dad talking (my sister lives across from a wetland nature preserve; the only thing likely to be watching her is a squirrel). She has a great picture of him in her bedroom, from a holiday at my auntie Donna's when we were kids. He's wearing a gray suit, sitting, with a glass of something in his hand, and smiling--not grinning--at the camera. He looks healthy, not the heavy, bloated, tired man I remember vaguely from the months immediately preceding his death. He was also, interestingly enough, more dark-skinned than I recall (and it can't have been summer, given the suit and that we were there for a holiday...)! Anyway, it's a nice photo. It's my dad the way I'd like to remember him, and more importantly, the way I'd like Jen to be able to remember him, since she has more pain there than I do. Charlie will still probably only hear about his Grandpa Joe from me and Sean, but that's OK.

Luckily for Charlie, in addition to Vinny's parents he also has a stand-in grandma in Linda! We Facetimed her yesterday so she could see him and it really made her day. Not incidentally, Sean finally had a vasectomy last week, so if she hadn't fully accepted that we were never having kids, it's probably pretty clear now. We joked to Daniel that he's now the only hope for the Gleason line, but he demurred, so who knows. Jen, always eager to shake off her in-laws, has already decided that they're spending next Easter with us (ie, at Linda's), and Vinny was even on board, which is good.

One of the few remaining things that annoys me about my sister (and Vinny) is that they are constantly falling all over themselves to thank us for anything, including a) coming to visit, b) going to the store with one of them, c) helping to clean, d) entertaining the baby so they can do something else, or e) all of the above. Like, twenty times in one visit. Partially this is just their own neuroses, I know, but I don't know how else to communicate that I enjoy  being there, and I like being useful! Charlie's cool and all, but actually sitting around for a whole afternoon watching him throw blocks on the floor isn't my idea of a party. I'd rather help clean. I've seen how stressful it is for them trying to balance work, the house, and the baby, and it really does make me happy to help her out when I can (though I still haven't yet cleaned a poop diaper, thank god). My mom would be so happy and amused to see us getting along so well, I'm sure.

Buona Pasqua!