Changes

Rockwood Hall, Sleepy Hollow, New York

A few things.

Lota is huge.  He seems to grow each and every day. He started out as a little 14-lb. bundle of soft fur and energy and as of earlier this month (he hasn’t been weighed in almost two weeks), he’s a whopping 43 pounds. And with the growth of his body comes his energy. I’m realizing that our weekend alpine camp out last month wasn’t a challenge for him; I think he’d prefer that schedule everyday. As it is though, one of his greatest qualities is his ability to be a total running-sniffing-chewing maniac outside, and a completely gentle, relaxing, easy-going companion inside. With the exception of the first week we had him, Lota’s always been that way, and I wonder all the time how Scott and I got so lucky. I’ve been feeling a bit sick and lethargic and the only thing that got me out of the house on this Alaska Day off from work was knowing I had to give Lota some exercise. We took two hour-long walks at Eaglecrest and while I know he didn’t nearly reach his capacity for running around, Lota’s still curled up in his dog bed on the floor. I’m pretty sure his eyes are closed.

I bought a car for the first time. Twice in my life, I’ve had cars to drive, but I didn’t pay for them, I didn’t maintain them, or insure them. I was irresponsible in that way even though I’d like to think I was a safe, responsible driver.

I started out my life getting rides from family friends and taking busses. I remember when my family got its first car – a VW Rabbit. It was used and in not such great condition, but it was ours. There are many stories attached to that car, mostly of it breaking down at stop lights or being louder than a school bus. Once my two sisters and I even ran frantically away from it for fear of it blowing up. It was the poster car for unreliability. It didn’t help that my mom got it perpetually “fixed” at a garage where everybody’s name was “Tony.”

Next was the used black Mustang. Why a Mustang for a working woman with children? Because “Tony” recommended it. Despite its low seats and inherent silliness, I have fond memories of that car in Cape Cod when my mom came to visit me at sleepaway camp. I’m sure it had problems, but they don’t stick out as much as the problems I associate with the Rabbit.

Not sure how, but after the Mustang my family was blessed with a used, reliable, black Toyota Corolla. Four doors, it didn’t make noise, it was a slice of heaven.

There was a time when I daydreamed about getting a new car in high school. I never thought about buying it myself; I dreamed about my father buying it for me, that I deserved it somehow for him not being there. I talked about it to my family. I wanted a white VW Jetta. That was the car I lusted for in high school. Cam Ly told me that the Jetta was one of the unsafest cars out there, that if I crashed it going 30 mph, it would be totaled. I think I talked about it enough that my mom actually asked my father about it once on the phone; he said no. This is one of those fuzzy memories – not sure if it actually happened or if I just imagined it.

After the white Jetta, there really wasn’t a car I lusted for. Every now and then I got crushes on cars, ones that I thought were nice, but it was never in my frame of mind to actually consider buying one. Buying a vehicle just wasn’t ever part of the plan. In more recent years, I’ve ruled out the notion all together and almost hoped I could be someone who never owned a car. I hate the idea of owning too much, especially big items; I’m a fan of public transportation; I just didn’t want one.

And for a long time, my life cooperated with that line of thinking. After college, where I drove that Corolla during my junior and senior years, I moved to HK. No need for a car as there are more forms of public transportation than one can even imagine – ferries, light rails, subways, busses, mini busses, and foot power. Then I moved to Wrangell. No need for a car as most everything was in walking distance. When I moved a mile away from work, I was living with Scott and he drove me to and from work. Then we left the country for three years and while there may have been a need for a car, there wasn’t any sense in purchasing one. We took public transportation the majority of the time. Sometimes we borrowed a vehicle from the school or from Sonam in Bhutan. Also in Bhutan, we had the luxury of hitchhiking.

That accounts for almost a decade without any need for my own wheels. But then we moved to Juneau where everything is spread out by several miles – work, home, grocery shopping, trails. Jen’s generosity allowed me to hold off buying a car for more than half a year. When she went north for work, I got to borrow her small Ford Ranger truck and it was ideal for me. It got me to and from work (which for one month meant a 40-minute drive one way), to work interviews, and most importantly, it had enough space for a kennel which allowed me to transport Lota around when he arrived. And that was crucial because he came to work with me every day.

And he still does, only now he rides in the passenger seat of a bluish-purple 2000 Toyota Corolla that I bought ready to drive. There are no cracks in the windshield, which is a grand achievement in Alaska, no dings in the body, no problems at all that needed to be fixed. Except for one thing – the previous driver was a smoker. So the first night I had it, Scott helped me scrub the whole interior with Simple Green and we kept the windows down all night. It reduced the smell by about 60 percent, but it’s still there. I had wadded up newspapers in the car for a few days to soak up the smell, which I think helped a little bit. It’s a lot better than it was when I purchased it and soon enough it’ll take on the smell of wet dog, which would be far better.

The car does not fit in in Juneau. It’s not a Subaru, it’s not a sporty SUV with a ski rack, it’s not a truck, but I’m okay with that. I bought it with only 60,000 miles so it’ll last me some time and it’s an automatic which means I get to pet Lota while I’m driving, which is just the greatest bonus. It also means I won’t stall out at a red light and that I can park in downtown Juneau. I would’ve never done that with a manual since, for me, parallel parking on a hill equals nightmare.

So I have a car that I’ve paid for by myself, insured, and plan on maintaining. The latter with the help of Scott, of course.

Another change – I upped my monthly contribution to my Roth IRA eight-fold. Even though I’ve been meaning to do it since I got hired permanently at KTOO, I just hadn’t, until today. Now that it’s done, I’ve finally fully acknowledged having a permanent full time job, which is something I haven’t had in five years. Wow, I didn’t realize that till just now. I feel like I’m finally becoming an adult, or at least have the trappings of one. Somehow I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.

Lota, car, IRA – just a few things that have changed in my life. Lota is meaningful; the other two aren’t. I also wanted to mention changes that are occurring in other’s lives. Last week I was in New York and saw three dear friends – one of them got married, and two of them are about to embark on substantial job changes. I also went to the Philadelphia area and saw three other dear friends, each of whom is experiencing changes in their lives as well – changes regarding life and death, literally. Writing that makes everything I just wrote seem so small.

I’ll end by writing about my mom, whose life at first glance seems consistent – she works, she pays the bills, she sleeps. But I know she’s been going through her own changes – a big shift in working environment, seasonal upkeep of the house, car troubles, the normal cycle of emotions. Lives close to her are changing – people are getting sick, people are healing, people are moving on. And those changes seem to be the most challenging – the ones you can’t control.

It was so lovely and warm in New York last week but for one reason or another, I didn’t get to really enjoy it, except for one afternoon. On Monday, I was in Putnam Valley and my mom had off from work. After visiting a family friend in Pleasantville, one who’s healing, we went to Rockwood Hall and went for a walk along the Hudson. It’s something my mom and I have never done. For all the times I went to Rockwood Hall with boyfriends and friends, I never went with my mom. I consider that location to be one of my favorite places. It lost some of its charm when a retirement home was built right next to it, but it’s still a pretty amazing place with ruins of an old Rockefeller estate, views of the Tappen Zee Bridge, cobbled walking paths, and lots of wonderful trees. During the walk, my mom was anxious to soak in as much sun as possible, which most of the walking paths didn’t allow. She was like that for both our sakes – she knew the weather has already turned in Juneau so wanted me to feel the warm sun as much as possible and for herself she wanted a healthy dose of vitamin D. It occurred to me that walking leisurely is not something my mom gets to do that often. But I told her to relax, to just enjoy the walk whether we were in sun or shade. It was our last afternoon together.

 

I don’t know when I’ll see her again or any of my friends. It’s not a good feeling. That’s something I need to change.