Jonathan

“Maple syrup is supposed to be on the table before the pancakes.
Of course when they bring the maple syrup after the pancakes, it'll definitely be too late.”
-Rain Man

My friend Robin recently pointed me towards a blog – “Confessions of a Pioneer Woman” that has gotten me thinking recently. The Pioneer Woman writes (a lot), she takes pictures (gorgeous ones) and she cooks. One topic of interest to me? Her brother, Mike. Her first entry about Mike starts like this:

“I Have a Retarded Brother. His Name is Mike.

I love not having to whip out annoying euphemisms like "Developmentally Disabled" or "Mentally Challenged" or "Intellectually Delayed." As a blood relative of a retarded person, I’m automatically exempt. I get to say retarded. Retarded.

I love Mike. He’s my big brother. Well, he’s my older brother. I’m bigger. Taller. About 8 inches taller. Overall, having Mike as a brother has been a good thing.”

Most anyone reading this probably already knows why it struck a chord with me. I, too, have a retarded brother. His name is Jon. I nodded knowingly when I read her comments about euphemisms and the rights afforded a blood relative. Because Jon is retarded. He’s not developmentally delayed or challenged. He’s retarded. I realize that’s not the PC way to say it anymore and I absolutely hate how that word has morphed into the common vernacular. I cringe every time I hear someone say “You’re retarded…That show was retarded…This game is retarded.” When I say something “un-PC” about Jon or the people that surround him, I usually preface it with, “he’s my brother, I can say that.” I had no idea that other siblings of retarded people also said that.

I too, catch myself having to explain that he’s my older brother but more like a younger brother. I admit sometimes I dread when someone making small talk asks if I have any siblings. Because you can never leave it at just “Yes.” It’s always followed up with “older or younger?” No one ever expects that there isn’t a short way to answer that.

“Well, he’s older, but he’s mentally retarded, so he’s sort of like a younger brother.” That usually gets a tilted head and an “Aww, I’m sorry to hear that. That must have been hard on you.” I never really know how to answer that. Would life have been easier on all involved if he had been “normal?” Who knows. Would he have been an angelic, straight A student with an equal aptitude for athletics and the arts? Probably not. He probably would have had his own “normal” issues that we, as a family would have to deal with. I was “normal.” And by “normal,” I mean a moody, bratty teenager. I got good grades, but I argued and back-talked daily. Jon is what he is and, not knowing anything different, I’ve gotten used to that.

It’s funny. I don’t think of myself as different because of Jon. It’s just not something I think about all that often. Over the years, people have said that I’m probably a more compassionate person, more patient, more understanding of people who are different. Obviously everyone is a product of their surroundings – I sometimes wonder what I would have been like if Jon had been a normal big brother.

As I read through some of the reader comments attached to Pioneer Woman’s blog, they’re all positive. They all commend her for her funny, heartwarming stories. Because that’s all they are to them. Sweet stories. I read her entries about Mike with tears in my eyes, understanding every word, feeling like I’d just met a kind of kindred spirit. Even tho it seems her experience with her brother is worlds different from mine, everything she said rang true to me.

It’s funny. I read things all the time that I agree with or that “speak to me,” I don’t know why these particular blogs have gotten me thinking about Jon. One comment Robin made was that if PW’s blog did anything to open the eyes of her zillions of readers, that she’s doing a really good thing by talking about her brother.

And maybe in my own rambling way, I can do the same thing.

Happy New Year

"Sixteen springs and sixteen summers gone now
Cartwheels turn to car wheels thru the town
And they tell him,
Take your time, it wont be long now
Till you drag your feet to slow the circles down"
-Joni Mitchell

I know it’s cliché to say that I cant believe it’s already 2008…that I cant believe it’s already January…that I cant believe I’ll be HOW OLD? in another month. But just the same, I really cant.

One nice perk in my office is that we shut down between Christmas and New Years, so we all have a nice long break without having to use vacation days. I spent several days up in Dayton with my parents and my grandparents, which was nice.

A good bit of my time was spent in the kitchen… Last Thanksgiving I attempted a new apple pie crust recipe… I thought I had blogged about it then, but I think I just commented on Robin’s site when her husband tried it. Anyway, I was impressed with it at Thanksgiving, but apparently I really got the hang of it this time, because, if I do say so myself, the Christmas apple pie put all my other attempts to shame… I think I’ve finally mastered the unwritten stuffing recipe (tho I’m still a bit squeamish about actually stuffing the bird…) and mom taught me how to make gravy. Not sure I could fly solo on it just yet. Mom and I have a running joke at Christmas about whether or not we’ll make “Grandma’s Butter Cookies.” We always intend to, and always run out of time. I made them (covering the kitchen, myself and even the dog at my feet with flour), but we never did get around to decorating them. Maybe next year…

It was nice to have some time to relax -- I confess, I did have to bring some work home with me…but if the company is giving me more than a week off, I’ll live with having to work for a few hours (from my couch in my PJ’s with my feet up, of course).

The big news from our family is that my mom’s parents have finally decided to move up to Dayton – a difficult decision, but one that I think everyone feels good about. They will be moving to the Lincoln Park retirement community in Kettering – about 20 minutes south of my parents’ house. Hard as it will be to leave their home of 25+ years, they feel it’s important to be closer to family and want to make the move while they can do it together. Fingers are crossed all around that their house sells without too much hassle and they’ll be in their new apartment early this spring.

I swore I’d take a much-needed theater break after Dearly Beloved wrapped up in the fall, but I was asked to take on stage management duties for Mariemont’s January show, Give ‘Em Hell Harry, and I just couldn’t say no. It’s a one-man show -- performed by Bill Hartnett and directed by his wife Ellie Shepherd (both of whom have more talent in their little fingers than most of us have altogether!). The bonus for me is that I didn’t have to attend rehearsals until tech week, so it hasn’t been a huge commitment yet, time wise. I’ve worked with Bill and Ellie several times now and it’s always a pleasure. They’re both so professional and there’s never any drama or ego…I cant say enough about them. They cast me in my very first Cincinnati production back in 1998-ish and again in 2001-ish and both shows rank pretty highly as my favorite theater experiences to date. But I digress. The show opens this Friday and if there are any locals reading this, I urge you to check it out: Give 'Em Hell Harry

And because no post is complete without mention of the never-ending (or constantly-procrastinated, depending on how you want to look at it) kitchen project is that I FINALLY picked a color (burgundy wine -- was finally talked out of brown) and primed the walls and painted the ceiling a few days ago. Probably wont get around to the actual painting (anyone want to take bets on how many coats it will take? I don’t want to think about it…) until after the show closes, but I feel like it’s still an accomplishment.

Guess that’s all for now. Hope everyone out there had a lovely holiday and a Happy New Year.