Being a Dad

 Dedicated to my brother and the millions of dads out there who are strong enough to break the classic mould of what it means to be a dad.

I spent the month of May in Melbourne, Australia with my brother and his beautiful family. Like any household, they have their rhythm. They have figured out who does what to survive the chaos of two working parents and two young boys. Some days are easy, but on some days it seems like there are just not enough hours to get everything done. Yet, magically, in the end, it does (well kind of). In large part, this is possible because they have been bold enough to break the mold of traditional parenting.

In my brother's family, it is not just his wife who bathes the kids or reads them to sleep. He does it too. It is not she alone who kisses them when they fall and scrape their knees, he does it too. It is not just her who plays peek-a-boo with them, he does it too. And it is not he alone who protects, works, and sets the rules, she does all that too.

For so long dads have had to live with the expectation that they have to be the strong, stern, disciplinarians. They have been afraid to bring out their fun side for fear of being perceived as weak and vulnerable. We have not given them the space to be the sensitive and loving caregivers they can be. This is all rather sad because when we break that mold it is magical!

Men who can take a leap of faith and choose to be playmates and parents rather than just being protectors and providers, discover a side of life that no one should miss. When they allow themselves to roll on the grass, cook a meal, bathe their child, or rock them to sleep, they discover that being a dad is not about choosing strength over sensitivity. It is about discovering that strength comes from sensitivity. They discover the full joy of being a dad.

Three Women in Three Rooms

 Time and again I am struck by the "unconventional" nature of my family unit as it stands today. I am an almost-divorced woman in my mid forties, whose son comes over occasionally, has her widowed mother over for a few months of the year, and whose only constant companion is her dog. For many there is nothing odd about this arrangement, but I am an outlier in my very traditional Indian family. When I married almost 25 years ago, the expectation was that I would end my time on earth either in the arms of my spouse or as his widow. No one would have envisioned me as the head of my own household, taking major life decisions almost single-handedly.

Perhaps it is even more amazing that this dramatic change in my life has occurred in less than thirty six months. In the summer of 2019, my life, to any outsider, was the perfect picture of a traditional Asian immigrant success story. It had all the necessary material and non-material trappings - a big house, luxury cars, Indian friends in the community and growing careers. It all changed in one afternoon when I decided it was time to leave a relationship where neither side was fulfilled. In the months following my decision I spent hours mourning the loss of my "family". Despite what everybody told me, I was convinced that I would never find an anchoring force, a core to nurture and call my own. My mind had been conditioned by years of the traditional narrative, and envisioning any sort of a family unit without a husband, and kids, all living under the same roof, was impossible and even sinful. It felt like I was breaking a sacred code.

But time, as they say, is the biggest healer. While the sense of loss will stay with me forever, I have decided to open my heart to new possibilities. Possibilities of a different career, what holidays look like and what a family can be. A new picture of a family is beginning to form over the more traditional version and with it the realization of new possibilities .

For years I could only imagine of a time when I would have my sister and my mother over to stay with me and we would have a girls only holiday and gossip late into the night without a care or the burden of family responsibilities. Today, as I fall asleep, my mother and my sister are here with me all the way from India and Malaysia and we are doing all I dreamt of doing! As a result there are three women in three rooms in my house. There is no child or husband in sight, and yet it feels very much like a complete family.

Swan Sunday

 Waking up from any nap is difficult but it is especially difficult on a lazy Sunday evening when the weather has just a hint of the late winter chill and you are warm under your blanket on the family room couch. And frankly I would have stayed that way for at least another hour had it not been for the puppy. She wasn't going to give up. She needed her third walk of the day and she wanted it now. So I dragged myself out of my cozy cocoon, and off we went.

On good days like today, I usually walk the three mile circuit around the lake behind my house. The sun was low over the horizon and directly in my eyes as we approached the familiar walking path. The lake was lit up with its bright light and I could barely see anything. So when I caught the outline of two ducks swimming in the lake, and they looked taller that usual, I thought nothing of it. I was sure it was just my eyes adjusting to the outdoors. But as I got nearer I realized that these were no ordinary ducks! This was a pair of white swans! 

They looked absolutely majestic with their characteristic curved tall necks, air brushed wings and the unmistakable pairing. One almost never sees a swan alone and this was certainly a pair. Now this is not the first time I had seen swans, but seeing them on the lake behind my house, on a Sunday afternoon, was an unexpected delight. A few other walkers also caught site of them and like me, whisked out their phones and took some pictures. I walked for another 30 minutes, barely able to keep my eyes off of those beauties, all the while smiling like I had discovered a hidden treasure.

Once home, I gave the puppy and extra treat. After all she deserved it.  Had it not been for her, this would have been just another weekend coming to and end with the Monday morning looming over it. But thanks to her it had turned out to be a lovely Sunday, a beautiful Swan Sunday. It reminded me that an ordinary day can turn into something extraordinary in the blink of an eye, and wonders can be found even in our own backyards.  

FOUR PICTURES

 It shouldn't be that hard. It is a really simple task. Pick four pictures from my phone, print them, and frame them. And yet I have been avoiding the task for months. Only because the choice of pictures you put around your home makes a statement. It tells anyone who looks at them who you value, who you cherish.

But when relationships no longer follow the traditional  path, every expression of them takes on an added dimension. Now that I am no longer with my spouse, how do I define family pictures? Is my husband still my family? Will I be giving the wrong signal to my son if I include him, or even worse if I don't?

My mother would say I am over thinking this. They are just four pictures. But the way I see it they are just FOUR pictures. Just four opportunities to represent everyone that means the world to me. When I left my husband, so many other relationships came in to fill the vacuum. Friends, sister, brother, mother- all took on a whole new meaning. They all took a part of me that was lonely and gave it their companionship. If I do not do an adequate job of including them where it matters, I am afraid I will disappoint them. In the absence of the center, the periphery must be marked out clearly so that you are not left completely without a tether.

So to all who will make it to the frame I say,  this is an expression of my love for you. This is me defining what my family looks like and by no means are they just four pictures.

A Beautiful Message

 Just finished watching an endearing series on Netflix called "Anne - with an E". It was recommended by a dear friend and what a delight it turned out to be! It is set in  late 19th Century Canada on the remote Prince Edward Island. However, the messages and the characters can just as easily be transported to modern day suburbia without losing any of their relevance or resonance.

The series, based on the book, " Anne of Green Gables" by Lucy Maud Montgomery, traces the life of Anne-Shirley-Cuthbert, an awkward, red-headed orphan adopted by the Cuthberts of Avonlea. The Cuthberts are not a couple but rather a brother and sister duo who live a quite life on a farm, and send to the orphanage at Nova Scotia for a boy to help with the chores. Instead they receive a skanky, chatty and imaginative young girl who could not be any further from their idea of a child. Their shock at who Anne is, and the eventual  acceptance of her, sets the tone for the most important message of the series. If we keep our minds open and love in our hearts, joy WILL follow. If we stick to stereotypes and the arbitrary rules of society, it will keep us from realizing the full potential in ourselves and in those around us. 

Issues of race, gender, sexual orientation and cultural discrimination, are woven expertly into a tale that keeps the viewer engaged at all times with its many twists and turns. But at no point does it sermonize or  become overly simplistic. The characters succeed and fail, struggle and grow, because such obstacles cannot be overcome in a day or by one heroic figure in one fell swoop. Much like the landscape of Avonlea, there is breathtaking beauty in Anne's life. This beauty comes from her adoptive family, the Cuthberts, her friend Diana Barry and the dashing Gilbert Blythe. However, this life is not without its hardships that resemble the cold and and seemingly unconquerable landscape of the winter months. It takes the spring of Anne's imagination and passion to break frozen ground and bring forth possibilities for those being held down. There is the lone black resident Bash, the widowed, trouser-wearing, progressive teacher from the city, Ms. Stacy, also Diana, the brilliant daughter of a rich family, forbidden to better her mind, and finally Anne herself, an orphan with no family and means. Eventually all of them find a place in the town of Avonlea when love and courage replace bias and bigotry. 

With its stunning cinematography, enchanting music and timeless characters I would say "Anne with an E" is a beautiful series, a beautiful experience and a beautiful message.

 

Why "Everybody Loves Raymond"

 I have neve been a big fan of culinary travel shows such as the one hosted by the late Anthony Bourdain (may he R.I.P). For the most part I am unable to relate to them because the food is just too exotic for my palette and all the talk about the fancy ingredients and the impossible cooking techniques  makes it all unrelatable. In short, I do not see myself wanting to eat those foods because they seem too hard to appreciate. But a recent show on Netflix may have just changed that for me. It is called "Somebody Feed Phil" and is hosted by Phil Rosenthal. The same Phil Rosenthal who is the creator of "Everybody Loves Raymond".

When I first stumbled upon the show I had no idea who Phil Rosenthal was. I only sensed an "ELR" (Everybody Loves Raymond) connection when I noticed that his wife is Monica Horan (at the end of each episode Phil Skype's his wife and elderly father to give them the highlights of his latest culinary adventure). She is the same Monica Horan who plays Amy MacDougall on ELR.  I made the fuller connection when I had watched a couple of episodes and really started enjoying Phil Rosenthal's unique on-screen style.  Curious who this guy was, I Googled his name and to my utter surprise I learned he is the creator of ELR! 

Now it all began to fall into place- Phil Rosenthal on screen as the host of this show was endearing for the same reasons that his other show captured the hearts of millions year after year. The secret is in keeping it simple and relatable, but at the same time dramatic and entertaining. Everyday life, dramatized just enough to engage and entertain the audience.

In "SFP" (Somebody Feed Phil) the locales do not lack glamour. Episodes are shot in Venice, Morocco, Seoul, Chicago, New York.  However, for the most part the emphasis is on eating with old friends, at hole-in-the-wall eateries, and places which have stood the test of time by feeding people simple yet delicious fare, year after year. There is no food snobbery there.  On-screen, Phil's reactions to the food are akin to childlike wonder. He does not use technical culinary language to demonstrate his knowledge as a gastronome, instead he expresses his enjoyment with the widening of his smile, the lighting up of his eyes and the warm hug he gives the chef and fellow diners. He expresses his enjoyment just as ordinary people would. To keep up the "glam/dramatic" quotient- because we all crave our vicarious fix of it - there is  the occasional visit to a well known Michelin Star restaurant or a meeting with a world renowned chef , and even the odd encounter with a Korean social media star. This delicate balance between the simple and the exotic, keeps the show fresh with each episode but never too 'fu-fu" to alienate you.

In ELR too Phil Rosenthal and his team achieved the same balance. Just as in SFP, where you can relate to the food, see yourself enjoying it as he does, in ELR too you can relate to the family dynamic of the bumbling and loving Barones.  Who doesn't have the awkward brother-in-law in the brood or the feisty family matriarch who can smother you with her concern? Who hasn't felt torn between the love for the kids and the absolute exhaustion from all the work they create? The escapades or the characteristics of the Barones maybe a bit exaggerated to entertain you, but they never cross into the realm of the unbelievable. The Barones fail but always recover and while they may make a mess, it's never a disaster.

Most people are drawn to situations and characters where they can feel a kinship and some sort of a connection. But for it to become entertaining, it also has to rise above the mundane and have an element of adventure. It is because Phil Rosenthal is able to balance these two so perfectly that his culinary adventures are fun and why everybody (still) loves Raymond!

The View and the Point of the View

For the past few days I have been able to work from the sunny porch of a friend's house. It is an idyllic, picture book setting. A comfortable sitting area, overlooking a calm lake, bordered by mature evergreens. To top it all, we have had the best Indiana summer weather - not too humid or hot, just warm enough to lull you and make you forget everything. Forget that there is a pandemic raging outside, and the world is more and more divided over issues that should make us come together as humans. All in all it has been an immensely peaceful few days where all my troubles seem far away, and I blame it all on the view.

Clearly our physical surroundings have a tremendous impact on our state of mind. In my case the peace outside has translated into peace inside. What's more, rather than distracting me, the view has energized me. Wouldn't it be lovely if this bit of heaven was available to all those whose brains are agitated, stressed or burdened in some way? Could we all benefit from the calming effect of nature?

This setting is not new to me- I have lived across the road from my friend for seven years now, and have been to her house countless times. But it's only now in these unusual times that I am truly seeing not just the view, but also the point of the view. So if you are fortunate enough to choose what you see everyday- choose wisely! It may just be the reason you stay sane through these strange times.

The View