My first week back home I shared a bedroom with my nephew Kaveh, the five year old prodigy. I'd stay up late at the Round House Bar, drinking with cousins and high school friends. He'd stay up late reading a geometry book he found at the library. I'd sneak into my old bedroom around 1am. He'd be up reading and would say to me "Did you know pi is an irrational number?"
"What's that?" I'd ask. "You and Gramma made a cherry pie?"
Nonplussed he' d continue. "Did you know that the square root of 2 is also an irrational number?"
"What's an irrational number?" I'd ask, my toothbrush in my mouth. It was like coming back to the dorm room in college and finding your roommate studying for a calculus exam.
What tickled me most though was that less than a year ago I'd been given a child's introductory book to Hindu gods. Each page included a small box with the headline "Did you know ... ?" and would then go on to say something like "that Ganesh is one of the most beloved Hindu gods?" and then tell a story about Ganesh, or Vishnu or Shiva, etc.
Like the seasons cycling, here I was with the reincarnation of Marie Curie quizzing me on numbers in the same manner. "And did you know," he'd go on, "that if you added up all the angles of a triangle it equals 180 degrees?"
"And I bet they could dance on the head of a pin," I'd say. "Do you want the air conditioner on, or the windows open?"
Kaveh would shrivel up his nose and look at me. "I don't care."
Windows open and fan on, I'd crawl into my old bed, and he'd be in his across the room, light on the night stand illuminated, his small legs disturbing the blankets only slightly, the length of unused mattress spreading out in front of him like a workshop table with books and pens.
Half of the days on the island Kaveh made a To Do List for the next day. He'd list the games he was planning to play (Sorry and Monopoly and Old Maid), the relatives he was planning to visit, the meals he intended to eat. And at least one entry for his math book. Sometimes two. The next day he'd dutifully check each item as it was accomplished.
On the trip down to Columbus we stopped at the Thomas Edison Birthplace and Museum in Milan, Ohio. He wasn't too interested in the old furniture and clothes in the cottage along the canal. In each room on the tour he'd sit on the floor with his math book and read. He was a little interested in the old phonographs and the ticker tape machines on display, but mostly he was trying to tackle how to calculate a cube root.
I watched him pay no attention to the tour guide as she informed us that Thomas Edison was home schooled by his mother because he was deemed "unruly" by his teachers. And that as an adult he was never far from his laboratory. Couldn't even be bothered to come down to the sidewalk for a photo with his staff in Menlo Park, New Jersey. He just stuck his head out the third floor window.
Kaveh was happy to have his photo taken with his Ohio and Michigan cousins the week he was on the island. Big cheesy 5-year-old smile. Front row.
Monday, July 10, 2006
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Coming Home
Family has always played a big part of my summers growing up. Heat and cousins were synonymous. Since that time, I'm closer and more comfortable with cousins than friends. Or rather, my closest friends are in my family tree. Even if it's a grafted branch. Who better to commiserate about the absurdities of parents, but the people who probably experience the exact same idiosyncracies?
Within hours of being back in Ohio I was hugging both sisters, my mom, an aunt and uncle, and my two nephews. I don't think my younger nephew Nema recognized me. His older bother Kaveh gave me a big hug and smile. Such a great feeling. But Nema held back behind his mother's legs and gave a cautious smile.
He warmed up to me in a short time. Now he frequently jumps into my lap. My favorite is the first moment he's awake each morning. I'll be up eating breakfast or watching the news and he comes down stairs, all smiles and giggles. He's very social.
When I was about 4 years old, my family took a trip to Toledo to visit Aunt Verna. I remember my sisters being very happy about the trip, and I caught some of their enthusiasm. But, after the 90 minute drive I grew cautious. Verna was my grandfather's sister. In my young mind though, I had confused her with my grandmother's sister Vera.
At 4, I knew and loved Vera. She had dark hair, wore Keds and glasses, drank wine and laughed. She was born on the island, but lived in Cincinnati. She said she didn't like to be touched, but looked in your eyes when she spoke. Where my grandmother was crazy scary, Vera was crazy fun. I can't remember a time when I didn't know Aunt Vera. She came up to the island multiple times every summer. She told stories about the islands and knew the histories of every home and family.
When we pulled up to the home in Toledo my sisters ran to a strange woman. She had thick red hair and wore a pant suit with a matching purse. She smelled of perfume and hugged us tightly. I didn't know who she was. I was expecting Vera. I didn't want to get out of the car.
Eventually my sisters and parents convinced me to meet this woman. She won me over with multiple hugs and ice cream. But the initial feelings of confusion and shyness I haven't forgotten. For better, her hugs became more familair as the visits became annual.
And so, it's been two years since Nema last saw me. I don't know if he'll remember re-meeting me in Columbus, but I hope he'll recall later the smiles he gave me each morning this week.
Like my own childhood, this week has been a juggernaut of family. In addition to the large group retrieving me from the airport, I've been lucky to reconnect with two more aunts, three more uncles, and 22 cousins (1st through 2nd-once removed), not to mention visits to two cemeteries. Like my own childhood we've caught lightening bugs, watched fireworks, played board games, gone on bike rides, boat rides, car rides. This time around though I'm one of the adults. Sort of.
I'm still at times that kid sitting in the car hoping there's been a mistake and that the universe will follow expectations., but trying to muster the courage to accept that things might be better.
Within hours of being back in Ohio I was hugging both sisters, my mom, an aunt and uncle, and my two nephews. I don't think my younger nephew Nema recognized me. His older bother Kaveh gave me a big hug and smile. Such a great feeling. But Nema held back behind his mother's legs and gave a cautious smile.
He warmed up to me in a short time. Now he frequently jumps into my lap. My favorite is the first moment he's awake each morning. I'll be up eating breakfast or watching the news and he comes down stairs, all smiles and giggles. He's very social.
When I was about 4 years old, my family took a trip to Toledo to visit Aunt Verna. I remember my sisters being very happy about the trip, and I caught some of their enthusiasm. But, after the 90 minute drive I grew cautious. Verna was my grandfather's sister. In my young mind though, I had confused her with my grandmother's sister Vera.
At 4, I knew and loved Vera. She had dark hair, wore Keds and glasses, drank wine and laughed. She was born on the island, but lived in Cincinnati. She said she didn't like to be touched, but looked in your eyes when she spoke. Where my grandmother was crazy scary, Vera was crazy fun. I can't remember a time when I didn't know Aunt Vera. She came up to the island multiple times every summer. She told stories about the islands and knew the histories of every home and family.
When we pulled up to the home in Toledo my sisters ran to a strange woman. She had thick red hair and wore a pant suit with a matching purse. She smelled of perfume and hugged us tightly. I didn't know who she was. I was expecting Vera. I didn't want to get out of the car.
Eventually my sisters and parents convinced me to meet this woman. She won me over with multiple hugs and ice cream. But the initial feelings of confusion and shyness I haven't forgotten. For better, her hugs became more familair as the visits became annual.
And so, it's been two years since Nema last saw me. I don't know if he'll remember re-meeting me in Columbus, but I hope he'll recall later the smiles he gave me each morning this week.
Like my own childhood, this week has been a juggernaut of family. In addition to the large group retrieving me from the airport, I've been lucky to reconnect with two more aunts, three more uncles, and 22 cousins (1st through 2nd-once removed), not to mention visits to two cemeteries. Like my own childhood we've caught lightening bugs, watched fireworks, played board games, gone on bike rides, boat rides, car rides. This time around though I'm one of the adults. Sort of.
I'm still at times that kid sitting in the car hoping there's been a mistake and that the universe will follow expectations., but trying to muster the courage to accept that things might be better.
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