Dangerous Compassions

being the Mexican grandma I somehow am

I made some enchiladas yesterday.  It’s our new Easter tradition.  I wore an apron so I wouldn’t get sauce on my new SQL dress. 

I felt like a Mexican grandma.  I like how I skipped being a mom and went straight to being a grandma, in my imagination.

I think this photo is about olives.  It’s called Olives Rule the World.  Olives rules, capers drool!

I told Ming the story of my apron–my mom made it for me many years ago, with some leftover fabric from some other aprons we were making for Christmas.  I guess I have two aprons–this one, and one my friend J gave me which is a bit ruffley and femmey.

Been thinking about grandmaness.  God, I love grandmas.   Been thinking so much about family, chosen family, relationships in general, how to be who I am.  Too muchness.  Laura-Marie’s special too muchness.

I told Ming yesterday, that Sufjan Stevens song I posted yesterday, Pittsfield–it was my favorite Sufjan Stevens song for a while.   It’s about healing–not being afraid of a relative anymore.  “I never hear anyone talk about being afraid of a relative, besides me and Sufjan Stevens,” I said to Ming.

Lotsa things nobody’s talking about.  I hear about family love, connection, mild comedic conflict, hatred, hardcore conflict.  But fear, not as much.  And healing from that fear, almost never. 

That noisy part at the end, Ming objected to it yesterday.  I think it annoyed him at a time he didn’t want to be annoyed.  He normally doesn’t react much to music.  He gave me a look like, You gotta be kidding me. 

“It’s how Sufjan expresses his anger,” I said to Ming, by way of apology.  “It resolves.”  Then it resolved.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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