Good People

What’s one thing you know now that would have saved your younger self a lot of pain?

Probably could have saved myself a bunch of pain by not worrying so much about what my parents thought. The guilt trips were (and are) detrimental to my mental health. I’m in my 60s FFS and I still have to brace myself to tell them I’m not going to do certain things they want (like invite a difficult relative to my home).

Now, I’m not saying my parents were anything like the Afghani immigrant parents in Good People—the new bestseller by Patmeena Sabit—but I did find certain elements of that poor girl’s story somewhat relatable. (My father is a second generation immigrant from Italy.)

Warning: spoilers ahead

If you read it, what are your thoughts? Was it an “honor killing” or not?

The most upsetting chapter to me was the medical examiner’s report. The description of what Zorah was wearing when she died was just so…poignant. I stopped and cried at that point in the book.

I guess the part I related to was the whole idea of parents being more concerned about what the community or the neighbors think rather than what is actually going on with their child. Also, siblings getting dragged into each other’s problems. You are not your brother or sister’s keeper. I don’t think that expectation is healthy. I’m not saying siblings shouldn’t care for each other, but when shit hits the fan, the actual adults in the family should deal. Don’t drag your other kids into a big mess that is not of their own making.

If Zorah’s brother did do the awful thing, do you think he was equally as guilty as her father? Or less so, because of his age and likely being pressured by the father?

And goodness, where was the mother in all of this and why was she so weak?

I know, I know…it’s the motherfucking patriarchy.

Grandma Déjà vu

What’s a moment in your life that made you feel truly alive?

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I don’t know if this is a known grandparent phenomenon or what, but something wild is happening now that my granddaughter is two. A real little person. Sometimes she looks or plays in a certain way and I get a total flashback to her mother at the same age, and to me as a young mom. For a fleeting moment, it feels like seeing a snippet of my own life 30 years ago.

Any other grandparents know what I’m talking about? And does it have a name? The feeling is like memory, mixed with pride, mixed with longing, mixed with so much love. Grandma déjà vu is not a good name for it, but it’s all I got.

My daughter and me (1997, I think)
My daughter and my granddaughter this week

💕

But of course, your grandchild is not your child. They are their own new miracle of person. And your own miracle of a little girl has become this amazing unique adult woman, separate from you, and beyond your wildest dreams.

A woman-owned small business

If you could start a new business right now, what would it be?

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I’m retired and have no plans to start a business. However, I’m super proud of my daughter who has turned a passion into a career.

She is a professional astrologer with her own successful business—lunarxluci.com—and a large following on social media, particularly TikTok and also Instagram. She has been featured in publications such as Good Housekeeping and has endless excellent reviews from clients.

In addition to written and video readings, she recently created a downloadable, self-paced Astrology 101 course. It includes 10 in-depth video lessons (about 7 hours), companion workbooks, PowerPoint slides, and 3 celebrity chart breakdowns. By the end, students will understand how to read a birth chart and have the confidence to interpret their own and others’ charts.

Link in bio

So, if you have a new or longstanding curiosity about Astrology and how it can empower you, please check out my daughter’s offerings. A reading or the new Astrology 101 course would also make a great gift for someone in your life who likes Astrology and wants to learn more. You’d also be supporting a hardworking young woman entrepreneur (and mom) with her own small business.

Use the code THANKYOU for a 15% discount on any order.

Thank you!

😊

Mary

♊️ ☀️ ♏️ 🌙 ♑️ ⬆️

(Gemini Sun, Scorpio Moon, Capricorn Rising)

A Jackson

What’s the best thing you’ve ever found randomly on the street?

Money. That’s the most exciting thing I’ve ever found in the street. I don’t think I ever found more than $20, but one time a twenty-dollar bill floated right in front of me in the ocean. It glided by on a gentle wave. Turns out that a wet twenty needs to dry out in the sun, but then it works just like a regular twenty. 😉

Quick update on the fruit trees—the fruit picking tool arrived! And there’s plenty of fruit left out there. The squirrels are still MIA.

My second Winesap apple pie of the year just came out of the oven. I’m using the recipe on a ceramic pie plate that I’ve had for at least twenty years. I believe my mother got it at a “garage sale” for me.

So maybe this pie plate is a better answer to the prompt. Around here, “Garage sales” typically take place on the street in front of the home.

Massachusetts Dems

For what it’s worth, I think very old people should retire, especially from Congress.

At age 80, Ed Markey is too old to be elected to a six-year term as a Massachusetts senator. I voted for his 47-year old primary opponent Seth Moulton—a Harvard graduate (Physics Major), multi-term U.S. Representative, decorated Marine Corps veteran, and married father of two daughters.

The main objection to Moulton seems to be that he once said something along the lines of “I don’t want my daughters to have to play contact sports with formerly male athletes.” This seems like a ridiculous reason for Massachusetts “progressives” to throw him under the bus, but that’s exactly what they’re doing, including many of the activists from my church.

So now, I keep my mouth shut. I’m obviously going to vote for Markey over any Republican in the general election.

Markey is a tall old white man (not a known member of the LGBTQ community). He has no children. I believe he served in the Army Reserves during the Vietnam War. My favorite thing that he’s done as Senator was to speak out against the TikTok ban.

Here’s what the New York Times had to say about this race.

Fruit trees

We hired the young man who plowed our driveway last winter to help install my husband’s new vegetable garden (aka The Retirement Garden), which will have four large raised beds, irrigation, and a deer fence. (Fingers crossed the kid is up to the job. The soil where the fence posts need to get sunk in is very hard.)

In the meantime, a few of the many fruit trees my husband planted about twenty years ago have survived deer and other blights and are producing fruit. And for some reason, this year, the squirrels are missing in action. Typically, they would’ve had these trees stripped by now.

I made my first ever pie from the apples in our yard yesterday.

According to Google,
“Winesap apples are a classic American heirloom variety prized for their deep, cherry-red skin, exceptionally crisp texture, and unique, tangy, wine-like flavor. Dating back to the colonial era, they are famous for an intense sweet-tart profile with spicy undertones, making them a premier choice for fresh eating, cider brewing, and baking.”
My Winesap apple pie was really good. I used the basic recipe that’s printed in the bottom of my pie plate, but these apples definitely have a complex, spicier taste than the usual store-bought varieties.
Thank you squirrels for taking a vacation this year.
Bosc pear tree
Asian pear tree
I have done some baking with our Asian pears in the past, but they’re very sweet. They’re best eaten fresh off the tree.
These beautiful pears are hanging just out of my reach, untouched by squirrels. We finally broke down and ordered a fruit picking tool so we can get these down, but it’s not being delivered until Tuesday. 😕 I really I hope we beat the squirrels to these.
And here’s a throwback photo (August 2002). Check out that harvest. My husband grew all that food! He actually remembers the exact moment he went Organic after reading the ingredients on a bag of grub killer at our first house in Canton, MA in 1995.

Growing some of our own food again has become increasingly appealing in Trump’s America. Between skyrocketing food prices, never ending news of American food supply contaminations, and now an absolutely ridiculous trade war with Canada, we want to put our sunny yard back to doing something useful.

Eldest Daughter Syndrome

If you had a time machine and could send just one message to your past self, what would it say?

I don’t know if everyone knows this or not, but there’s an entire corner of the internet dedicated to “Eldest Daughter Syndrome.” It seems like it applies largely to immigrant families where the oldest daughters and/or oldest granddaughters get stuck with a LOT, like becoming the family’s default adult long before they’re actually adults, translating for parents, managing paperwork and appointments, mediating conflicts, supervising younger siblings, and generally absorbing emotional labor that “should” belong to a parent. The pattern often continues into adulthood.

Now, I’m not saying I had to do any of that really hard stuff. (I’m a third generation immigrant. My parents were both born here and did fine. My grandfather was born in Italy and died young, and my grandmother was illiterate in both English and Italian, although she spoke and understood English just fine.) Still, I do relate a bit to the Eldest Daughter problems that other women describe. Being the oldest, I think I tried too hard to please my parents. I cared too much what they thought. As I’ve mentioned many times, I was raised Catholic. I think I took the fifth commandment “Honor thy Mother and Father” too seriously. I tried too hard to be perfect — for them. Also, I was made to feel responsible for some of my sister’s problems, which were completely beyond my control.

So, I guess my message to my younger self would be, don’t worry so much about what Mom and Dad think, especially Dad. It’s OK to disappoint them. You do you.

Perfect me with my father and sister on my First Communion day. That dumb veil pinched my head so much.

2046

If your future self could send you one sentence, what do you hope it would say?

I feel like I am my future self. Things are somewhat settled for me. I’m 61, I’m retired, I’m a grandmother, I’m married and I’m going to stay married until one of us dies.

My hopes for the future are all for my kids and grandkids, and for humans in general.

I am beyond horrified at what we’re currently seeing in my country…from the return of measles, to the reversing of the hard won victories of the Civil Rights and Women’s movements, to the alienation of our democratic allies over a wildly ill-conceived war in the Middle East, which is costing us all a shit ton of money and has no end in sight.

I hope 81-year old me can say something like this in 2046:

Dear Mary,

Fear not! After President Trump was found dead on the toilet by his delighted wife, VP Vance was sworn in, but lost in a landslide to President Ocasio-Cortez, who ushered in a new era of democracy, peace, prosperity, equality and optimism, which continues to this day.

Single motherhood

What’s something you used to worry about but don’t anymore?

I used to worry that something would happen to my husband before our kids grew up. I worried that he’d die and I’d be left to raise them alone. We never had life insurance policies. (Too expensive) When I had just one child (my daughter), I figured I could manage. Somehow, she and I would get by. After my son was born six years later, I was really dependent on my husband (and his income). I wouldn’t have been able to do it on my own without help.

Sometimes now, I just revel in the relief of having them both grown and living independently. I am here if they need me, of course, but they don’t NEED me, need me—in that food/shelter/life/death kind of way—anymore. Phew.

I still worry about my husband dying, but it’s more about me now. How would I change the water filters on my own? Or reprogram the sprinklers after a power outage? Who would watch Masterpiece with me??

Nantucket, 2007
I sometimes found raising two kids hard with two parents on the job—literally, one for each kid. We also had a helpful set of grandparents nearby. Hats off to all the women who raise children completely on their own. Some of them do it so brilliantly, but I’m glad I don’t have that particular worry anymore.

The Girl Next Door

My son grew up with the girl next door. He was three when we moved here and she was the only other little kid in the neighborhood. She’s two and half years older than him, but when they were small, that didn’t matter.

They played in leaves, they played in snow, they played in sand, they bounced on her trampoline. They played video games or did legos together when it was too cold to go outside.

“Can I call Maddie?” was his #1 question in life for many years.

Eventually they grew apart, but she was his first best friend.

The Girl Next Door.

John and Maddie in 2005. She turned 28 yesterday and I reached out to her Mom with this photo. Her Dad still lives next door, but we don’t see him much.
The friendship lasted through several years of grade school.