I have always loved turning. In ballet, I always considered turning to be my thing, especially after I learned that much of my success in completing a turn lay not in my head or arms but in my feet. A small adjustment in my feet placement and a genuine commitment to being properly grounded could make all the difference in completing a series of turns without throwing up in dizziness.
Returning to the dance studio, I have found one of my greatest challenges to lie in feeling grounded. For example, our teacher reminded our class doing a pirouette combination last Monday, “Do not let your foot leave the floor, until it has left the floor.” This is very hard. Most of us do not think about when our foot connects to the floor or leaves the floor. Just try it the next time you walk. You will most likely have to slow down and think through how your heel, arch, ball, and toes work. When I think about how my foot is grounded I am thankful that most of the time staying connected happens by default. I don’t want to have to work to stay connected.
For the last few weeks I have been immersed in obituaries and computer databases, searching for the contact information for bereaved children and stepchildren of deceased Baby Boomers. My mind is a jumble of addresses, phone numbers and e-mail addresses. Although quite tedious at times, I’ve grown to feel a great deal of affection for the names themselves and the ways that our names connects us to parents, siblings, spouses and children.
Some observations:
You can always be tracked by your birth name. I’ve found that men are easiest to find since their names do not typically shift with the covenant of marriage. I’ve learned to search for women with their birth name, even if the obituary lists their married name and name of spouse. The birth name always comes up and married names come up under “alternate” names along with common misspellings of your birth name.
Your biological siblings will always be connected to you. By sharing a mother and father and a last name, you will rarely shake your brother or sister. Despite distance and time, those biological siblings are like shadow selves, a virtual communion of saints who companion you.
Computer databases struggle to connect you to anyone NOT related to you by blood. If you have been married for a while, the spouse will tend to be in your list of relatives, but if you are female and your last name has changed, the computer will hedge on how permanent that new name will be. The married name is often found in the “alternate” or “also listed under” category.
Despite how much you may love your stepparent, stepson/stepdaughter, mom’s boyfriend’s child, traditional tracking systems will rarely connect you. If you are not related by blood, you are unmoored, floating in a universe of your own. These folks tend to have many names listed in the “possible roommates/associates” column. I most often find stepchildren and stepparents listed as roommates or associates. In other words, these family members are on equal footing with your college roommate. And the system isn’t confident about connecting you, it’s always just “possible.”
Old age runs in families. Not rocket science, but as I trace families, some are decimated with death and disease and some have countless members who are 100+. For example, the Rosenburgers have 3 family members who are over 100. If you are a Rosenburger, good for you, and if not, I would highly recommend marrying one on the chance that your children could have a long life.
Contrary to current rumor, AOL e-mail addresses are not dead. However, they are only alive and well for people in their late 30’s and early 40’s. People in this age range tend to have simple, straight-forward AOL addresses that consist of their name and aol.com. No numbers, no cute phrases. It is painfully obvious that everyone in this group picked up AOL CD’s in the mid- to late- 90’s and signed up for dial-up e-mail. They were able to get their name as their e-mail address because, frankly, no one had e-mail yet. (Note to AOL: market to folks in their late 30’s and early 40’s. They are either too lazy to get a new e-mail provider, nostalgic about keeping their first e-mail address, or deeply devoted to AOL. Either way, there’s your market. Figure out how to make us happy.)
As a rule, people in their twenties should not be trusted to choose their own e-mail monikers. Bad taste abounds. Some sort of default name and numbering system should be instituted in order to save these young people from future embarrassment. A guiding principle could be that you should not put anything in your e-mail address you would not want chiseled on your tombstone. The word “pimp” is never cute nor appropriate, unless you are a famous rapper. “Sweet” and “Bigz” and “MMMMBeer” should never be allowed. When choosing, imagine your funeral: “We gather together today to remember SweetLousianaSpacePimp…” Just wrong.
And finally, in this day and age, there are many around us who we must consciously choose to stay connected. Many families are not by default connected, a default that is a privilege. Many children from in-tact families have built-in universes that hopefully buffer that young person from the harsh realities of life, create a financial, emotional, and spiritual safety net that enables confident risk-taking and personal development, and, at the end of the day, helps people find you. People know where you are, your life has weight and permanence.
Last week I attended the open house at my childrens’ elementary school. The hallway walls were covered with art work and I slowed to admire the drawings, many of which were pictures of families. Many 8X10 pages were filled completely with parents, kids, animals, sunshine, and names. Pictures where parents are bigger than the world and children are sheltered by parents and there is boisterous, raucous life spilling out everywhere. But there were also many quiet pictures. One such picture made me pause. A lovely picture colored entirely in light red, not one smudge of white showed through the waxy red crayon. In the middle of the page were two small figures, about the size of pennies, labeled “Me and my Mom.” Even now, this picture demands my still attention and I hear my heart beat echo in my throat. This child is connected, to a parent, to a loving school, to a lively neighborhood, but this child must work. Work to stay connected in a big, red, world that seeks to diminish at every turn.
The world keeps on spinning and, whether by default or through hard work, being grounded can mean the difference between confident success and fearful dizziness.
