Celebrate weirdness!

Laura blowing bubbles at my wedding in Alaska.

From my surrogate mom, Laura Bernstein:

I add my enthusiastic voice to this blog, saluting Janet on what would have been her 67th earthly birthday. She was an inspiring friend and a beautiful human being. Our relationship enriched my life in more ways than I can enumerate. One huge way is the presence of her daughter Sarah in my life as a "surrogate daughter" after Janet's passing. Thank you, Janet, for all your gifts! Now I would like to share a poem I wrote years ago (part of the original book) that Janet enjoyed so much, entitled "To My Children":

TO MY CHILDREN

Celebrate weirdness!
Wine it and dine it.
Design it to fit the occasion.
Rise to it.
Deny those who try to decry it with scornful remarks and limited vision.

Elevate eccentricity!
Beware the constricting, confining, conventional congress of head shakers, heart breakers, nay sayers, soul slayers.
Dare to be different.
Delight in it.
Heighten it.
Make it your home.

Applaud anomalies!
Anchor your ship in the singular sea of uncertainty.
Savor the strangeness.
Arrange bliss in whimsical patterns-- Irregular, quirky, quite murky to those who are closed to outlandish enchantments.

Cultivate non-conformity!
Be weirdly-wise with each enterprise.
Shrink from stale definitions and pale reflections and pallid convictions.
Relish exotic delicacies of expanded views.
Tempt your palate with spicy spaciousness.

Celebrate weirdness!
Walk the wide path of surprises.
Hope rises above the horizon of those who despise it; who narrowly cut down to size every dream-seeking, scheme-speaking lover of mystery.

--Laura Bernstein

Prosthetic Eyes and Foreheads (wait for it, wait for it!)

A few years ago Eric and I were sorting through stuff in the house when he accidentally shocked himself--not with a live wire, but with a box containing two of my mother's prosthetics.  He gave a nervous laugh and handed the box over to me saying, "Look, you have your mother's eyes."

This photo tells me all I need to know about mom's esteem with the prosthesis.

Mom's long relationship with prosthetics began around age 10 and some highlights from Chapter 2 are below.  I'll scan in the 8 page chapter and post it unabridged this week, but for now this will do.

Fourth grade also marked a transition from the gauze bandage taped on my face to an artificial eye prosthesis.  It required another surgery to line the eye orbit with skin from my stomach....I was so excited about not having to wear the gauze anymore and have questions about who hit me or what happened to me.  Over the years I had asked my mom if she couldn't just paint an eye on the gauze or behind a Halloween mask for me.  I really wanted to blend in.

We started trips to downtown Chicago to get the prostheses started.  The clinician was a wonderful artist and the moon shaped part of the eyeball showing was exactly like my left eye....Sometimes it fell out, sometimes [the glue] burned, sometimes it was okay.  They got me a pair of glasses, not that I needed them, but that they helped to camouflage the seam of the circle of plastic surrounding the eye.

It took me a while to realize that although people who didn't know me didn't ask em as many questions [with the prosthetic], they were now asking my friends and family.  They were too embarrassed to ask me because it looked like I thought everything looked okay, which it didn't.




Mom and I saw TMBG in DC years ago at Wolf Trap.  What a great summer day, prosthetic foreheads and all.  The song spoke doubly to me today, "where was I, I forgot the point that I was making," seems to be the theme of the day!