Kathleen is packing up her last things from her San Francisco apartment. In Southern California, I am up with the dog getting my coffee, Kristine is in bed sleeping and my husband is in Abu Dhabi at the International Weapons Show.
During the day Kathleen and I Skype. She holds her computer camera up while Skyping her apartment so I see how empty it is. Later her friends will drop by to pick up the last of her odds and ends.
It has been two very good years for her in San Francisco, having left Los Angeles and her past retail job to pursue a career in Advertising.
Kristine wakes up around 9:30 AM and heads to the store to buy a frame for the needle point she finished the day before.
Tuesday 11 AM
Kathleen takes the subway to the rental car place. She spends more time than I like talking to me on Skype. She is getting out later than planned due to last minute errands. I keep telling her to stop talking. All that constant chatter slows her down.
She says," Mother! I can multitask."
The rental place gives her a smaller SUV than she expects and she ends up leaving some of the goodwill clothes, she is bringing home, on a street corner.
It's a 7 to 8 hour drive from San Francisco to Yorba Linda. She had planned on leaving at 10 AM so she could be home by daylight, but that will never happen. Too much chatter getting out the door.
Kristine leaves the house for Pasadena by 12:30 PM to begin a new baking class in breads. She is excited about her class because her teacher shows her respect and appreciates her talents.
It's an 1 1/2 hour drive for her one way and class starts at 2 PM.
Everyone is on the road, but me.
It's evening, Kristine gets home from school around 7 PM with her latest bread production of rolls. She says her rolls were not shiny enough for the teacher and she gets an 87 as her grade. She is disappointed that the teacher didn't tell her to glaze them.
I keep telling her to review the recipes in her multitude of baking books so she will have a heads up on what to do. She should be smart enough to figure it out, but do my children listen to me?
With everything in consideration, she is feeling good about herself these days and decides to join Facebook. She downloads all her paintings in her facebook album. She has several friends from her college days on board now. She is ever conscious about her looks: bleaching her hair blond and going on a diet.
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| Kristine going blond again. She once was a natural blond, but it darken with age. |
Naturally, it is not far from my mind that she will fall off this path of progress if she gets involved with the wrong friends or stops taking her medication.
The one noticeable difference in her behavior these days is her lack of boldness. She knows she is not invincible. She remembers all the bad things that happened to her when she was off medication or on the wrong medication. There was a time she did not believe in demons; but now that she has seen them; with that revelation, she has self-doubt.
Unfortunately, too much self-doubt and the wrong advise can be destructive. However, she has the motivation to be successful.
Kathleen drives up after 8 PM. She is tired from driving 8 hours straight; she is still chatty. She has enough energy to unload the car.
Wednesday 6 AM
My alarm goes off. I tell Kathleen to get ready to leave. We have to take the rental car in by
8:30 AM. I will probably led because my car has a navigation system and I have already mapped out the route.
She says, "I will led because you will get nervous and probably get lost. I have my phone navigator."
The navigator that brought her from San Francisco to home.
I have the same phone navigation she has, plus I have the directions.
I am thinking: What the heck is she talking about? Just because I act like a scatterbrain with sweaty palms while driving like a bat out of hell; I always get them to their destination on time, if not earlier, in one piece. They know I have guardian angels protecting me.
But, naturally, I let my children do what they want; only to tell them later,
"Why don't you listen to me when I have years of experience over you and I am still
standing?"
I follow her in the rental Explorer; and naturally, in bumper to bumper California traffic, there is no way we can follow each other.
I don't worry as she disappears in front of me for we both know where we are going; after all, we both have navigators on our phones and in my car. How lost can we get?
I meet up with her 20 miles later as we exit the freeway to the rental company.
After we park, she says, "I looked everywhere for you. I even went in the carpool lane to see if you switched lanes."
Guess who freaks out?
I say, "I knew I would, eventually, catch up with you since we are going to the same place."
Not to mention, that my car has 'leave them in the dust' speed and I am like a magnet once I get attached to something. Poor You!
We are home by 8:45 AM.
At 10:30 AM, Kathleen's best friend shows up with her new born baby girl. I am upstairs; I hear her exclamation remarks when Kristine gives the baby gift to her. A framed, personalized, needle point.
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| Kristine's needle point gift to Amelie |
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| Kathleen, her friend, Jessie and little Amelie; one month old |
Kathleen, her friend and I are cooing and awing at the baby while Kathleen tries to repack her suitcases and get rid of half the stuff she drove down with that she can not take with her when she leaves tomorrow for New York. Talk about pushing it. She will be home only 2 days.
For Goodwill, she ends up with 6 bags of clothes and one suitcase full of books. I am thankful for the tax deduction we will get which could put us in a whole new tax bracket considering the amount.
A few of her items are left at home, but the bulk of her existence, going to New York, lies in two 50 pound suitcases and one box, to be shipped later.
I am very proud of her taking the initiative to go to another city to advance her career. I remember when she decided to continue her education in advertising, as an account planner; she packed her bags for San Francisco. At that time, she only had one acquaintance in San Francisco. She had started out with an American friend, but branched out with a British friend; then along came a New Zealander, an Italian, an Australian and now it's a whole group of Swedes. It must be the accent.
She has a number of friends in New York City and San Francisco with connections in the advertising world. She can take her 2 final advertising classes online while she interns in NYC; hoping to graduate in May 2011.
Kristine is home at 7:15 PM with her baguettes. The teacher gave her a 100 points while informing the class that Kristine made the only 100 points for her baguettes because it was better than what she could have done herself.
Just the week before, when Kristine made her first pizza, it looked more like a decorated fruit tart with the tomatoes lined around the outer circle, the goat cheese in the center and 3 basil leaves neatly placed in the center. The teacher was not impressed with the pizza topping, although the bread came out nicely.
After seeing it myself, I asked Kristine, "Have you ever had a pizza? Do you know what a pizza looks like?" She laughed.
Thursday 4PM
Their dad arrives home from Abu Dhabi just in time to spend a few hours with Kathleen before her permanent move to NYC. He has been gone for over 3 weeks crisscrossing the country, Europe and Asia.
Kristine arrives from school a few hours later and tells us about her day.
Her therapist saw her artwork on facebook and gave her the name of an organization called NARSADA that reproduces the artwork of schizo-affective people, onto greeting cards and posters.
In fact, I have sent out NARSADA cards myself, not thinking about asking Kristine about it.
It will be another new beginning for her to get her artwork out there.
To top off her day, while watching her bake, her culinary teacher made a comment, " I have noticed the way you prepare your breads with great detail and I think you will go far."
Assuming, she means her career in baking.
It's 8:00 PM and I am taking Kathleen to the airport. As we drive up, I notice there is just enough room between two parallel parked cars in the unloading zone; that is, if I park diagonally between them. I need to get Kathleen as close as I can to the baggage guys on the sidewalk because she has too many things to carry.
Kathleen yells, "Mom, STOP! You are going to drive onto the sidewalk!"
I am thinking: What sidewalk? There is no curb.
Because there is no curb, I can just drive into the building, but I do stop as some people on the sidewalk turn to look at my headlights shining on them.
I laugh, knowing that I am freaking out my daughter and knowing that I won't go that far; but Kathleen always fears of what her mother will do; as most people I know do. It makes me laugh.
We both jump out of the car to get the bags.
Kathleen yells, "Don't get the bags, they are too heavy."
But I don't listen.
Holding a 9 pound baby for 2 hours was far more tiring on my arm muscles than lifting a 50 pound bag for 2 minutes. I pull one bag to the baggage guy and she pulls the other. She thanks me for all my help. We kiss goodbye.
I still can't believe that in a month's time, she decided to move from San Francisco to New York City and did it in one week.
It was a good week, full of positive events and feelings.
The stars must have been aligned just right.
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