Four Feet More

I got this idea from mom, and thought that since this month marks the start of a new decade, it would be nice to recap the decade that passed.

1999

• Jeff and I buy our first home.
• Vacation in Cancun – we climb to the top of Chitzen Itza (although I thought I might die in the process)

2000

• Y2K – nothing special and thankfully the world did not come to an end.
• Jeff quits his job at UPS and goes into real estate.
• Jeff, Ali and I travel to San Diego in the summer.
• I buy my first ever brand new car! Mel, James and I take it on a road trip a week later.

2001

• September 11^th – awful, horrid day.
• Jeff, Ali and I visit Disneyworld.
• Jeff and I get engaged on June 9^th (after a day-long scavenger hunt in which I actually had to dig up a treasure chest containing my ring!)
• Although we didn’t know it at the time, Vika was born in Russia.

2002

• Jeff and I get married on April 28^th and honeymoon in Australia.
• Jeff and I decide we could easily live in Australia.
• Vacation in Hawaii to celebrate my birthday.
• Trip to Chicago to visit my uncle’s family and my grandpa, and to attend the baptism of my cousin.
• Mom and Ed get married.
  
• We didn’t know it at the time, but Eamon was born in Russia.

2003

• I learn I am finally pregnant, but lose the baby 2 months later.
• Road trip with Ali to visit family in Arizona and see Arches National Park in Utah.
• We try again to get pregnant, but this effort is brief as I am over it already!
• I begin taking night classes to get my teaching credential.

2004

• Jeff and I begin the adoption process.
• We travel with Ali to London and Paris.
• Still working on my teaching credential.
• Jeff’s mom passes away, and the hub of his family (a wonderful person) is gone.

2005

• I quit my job at Stanford to begin student teaching.
• Jeff’s dad passes away.
• In June, I get my teaching credential.
• We get a referral for Vika and Eamon, and after 2 trips to Russia, our adoption of them is complete!
• On Christmas Eve, we bring our kids home.

2006

• I begin writing in this blog.
• Jeff and I adjust to being the parents of two very active children who speak no English (but learn it rapidly).
• I work as a substitute teacher so that I can spend time at home with the kids.
• Jeff and I take Ali and the kids to Chicago to visit my uncle’s family and my grandfather, who is now living in a nursing home.
• Family vacation in Disneyworld.

2007

• My brother Joe gets married!
• Road trip to Arizona with Mom & Ed and Joe’s family. We force our spouses and kids to join us on a trip down "memory lane."
  
• In July, I get my first full-time teaching job! I teach 6^th grade and become good friends with my teaching partner/mentor, J9.
• Ed’s mom passes away.
• Gramps passes away in October – we travel to Chicago in December for his memorial service.

2008

• I get my first ever pink-slip when my district lays off all new teachers.
• Vacation to Disneyland where we meet up with Mel and her family.
• I am rehired at my school and begin teaching 5^th grade.
• Ed’s father, Grandpa Clyde passes away.

2009

• My nephew Tyson and cousin Alex are born!
• I get laid off from my teaching job again (this is an annual occurrence for new teachers in our school district).
• We take the kids to Disneyworld in the summer.
• In August, I am rehired at my school, this time as a kindergarten teacher.
  

What adventures/memories/milestones did the past decade bring for you? If you write a list, please include the link in my comments so that I can check it out!

This is Rupert (with our brown tabby, Oona laying on top of him). Rupert Guaca Molay, to be precise. He came to our family when he was just 2 days old, eyes still closed and umbilical cord still attached. I was working in a Pet Hospital at the time, and a whole litter of newborn kittens was brought in, huddled together in a little shoebox. Six other employees and I each took one home, to bottle feed and eventually adopt out. Of the seven kittens, Rupert is the only one who survived. This is not due to my superior cat-raising skills, I assure you. The whole litter was just not healthy, and I think that Rupert may have been the strongest of the lot.

I remember those early days, waking up at all hours of the night to bottle feed this scruffy looking white kitten with a yellow stain on his back. He would scream out with a squeaky meow and would knead the air (we call it “making biscuits”) while I fed him. In fact, the only thing other than food that kept him quiet in those days was music by Sting. Go figure.

This little cat, despite his various anomalies, began to thrive and grow. The yellow stain on his back became a silver/gray patch that wound up extending to cover his head, half his face and his tail (which is striped, like a tabby’s). His eyes developed into a clear blue color, and his back legs grew to be much longer than his front, giving him a bit of a hot-rod-like appearance. People who met him would say, “Man, that is a freaky looking cat!” But I thought he was handsome, and when it came time to adopt him out, I decided that it would be better if he stayed with me instead.

And so he has been a member of our family for 14 years. He chirps in pleasure when I say his name and if I scratch him just right on the back of his neck, he starts grooming himself manically. He loves to play with the tabs you pull off the top of a bottle of milk, and will even mock fight you for them (his growling used to crack my brother up. The two of them engaged in many mock-milk-top-battles).

As Rupert has gotten older, his medical problems have increased. First it was feline acne, which would cause his face to swell up most unbecomingly. Then feline asthma was added to the mix, making him wheeze and cough like an old man. A few years ago he was diagnosed with mega-colon, a condition that causes him to get blocked up and requires daily medication (a laxative) with his food to keep the plumbing working properly.

Another medical blow was delivered last week. About a month ago, Rupert's back foot began to swell up. At first I thought it was a bug bite. He’s had swelling reactions to those before, and usually some oral Prednisone helps them go away. But this time it didn’t work. Then I began soaking the foot and prodding around to see if there was a bite wound or some other injury. I could find nothing, but the foot continued to swell. Friday, I took Rupert in to the vet and got the bad news. Rupert has a tumor on his back foot. While it’s pretty big and ugly, it doesn't seem to be giving him any pain. He's not limping, he doesn't flinch when I touch his foot, and he's eating and playing around normally. We don't know if the tumor is malignant or not, but pretty much the only treatment is to amputate the foot. Which there is no way in hell I am going to do. Rupert is 14 years old, and the thought of him going through the pain of an amputation and living out his remaining few years with a missing foot just seems wrong. Plus, if it is cancer, he'd have to go through chemo in addition to the amputation, which would be even worse. I just can’t see putting him through that, especially given all his other medical conditions. For now, he is his usual happy self, playing, eating and drinking normally, with an enlarged back foot. I guess we'll reassess if it starts to cause him pain, but until then, I'm going to let things ride. Hopefully the tumor is benign and will stay localized, adding to his freakish appearance while not being life-threatening. Only time will tell.

I finished this book last night, and I'm still not quite sure how I feel about it. While the ending was hopeful, I guess wanted it to be a bit happier. The story did make me look at the Afghan community differently though and made me start thinking about a group of Afghan friends I had in high school.

I spent my teen years in the city of Fremont, California, which is where a portion of The Kite Runner takes place. It was strange to read about streets and locations which used to be part of my everyday life. Lake Elizabeth, which is mentioned a few times in the book, is the park where I spent endless weekends both playing and coaching soccer. It was through soccer that I came in close contact with Fremont's Afghan community. My brother was on a traveling team with 3 Afghan guys who were all extremely talented soccer players. Mo, Fo, and Obaid were also very funny and became great friends to both my brother and myself. Obaid came over to our house all the time and his mother would frequently send us Afghan food to sample. These were strange dishes featuring a lot of cinnamon and cilantro, and I didn't really enjoy them. It wasn't until later that I found out Obaid's mother was not the best cook, and her meals were a poor representation of Afghan food (which is actually quite good). Mo, Fo and Obaid would talk endlessly about Afghanistan and their dreams of returning there once the country returned to normal (this was both during and shortly after the Soviet occupation). Their memories of Afghanistan were much like those of The Kite Runner's main character, Amir.

Towards the end of my friendship with these guys, things took a turn into uncomfortable territory. For about 6 months, I had a crush on Fo (short for Fowad). While not tall, he was dark and handsome. More importantly, he was the best soccer player of my age I had ever met. This guy did things on the field that I had only seen professional soccer players do, and I was smitten. Then one day Mo and Fo said to me, "You would make a good Muslim wife." They approved of the fact that I didn't drink alcohol or eat pork (I was 17 and going through a vegetarian phase). They also would say things when they came over to our house such as, "Now, if you were an Afghan woman, you would get us something to eat and drink" (instead, I had plopped down onto the couch next to them without even asking if they were hungry). These comments slowly doused the torch I had been carrying for Fo, but unfortunately, both his and Mo's interest seemed to be kindled.

My first inkling that they were interested in more than friendship came when Mo began calling me every night. In between discussions about soccer and school, he would insert comments about how much I would like Afghanistan and how he'd like to show me his country someday. My suspicions were confirmed when he asked me out to a movie and dinner. As I climbed into his car, I was still trying to delude myself into thinking this was just a friendly outing. The gift he gave me of a gold necklace with a heart charm (surrounding a "J") pretty much jolted me out of my state of denial. While he was a complete gentleman, the date wound up killing my friendship with Mo. I was just wasn't attracted to him in that way and, stupid teenager that I was, I began avoiding him.

This was when Fo moved in. While we were away at a soccer tournament, he took me aside to sit next to him on the ledge of a fountain. He was nervously fiddling with a piece of paper in his hand, which he explained was a poem he had written. Would I like to hear it? I warily said yes, and then listened in silence as he read flowery phrases about a woman he had come to adore. After he was done, he looked at me meaningfully and asked if I liked the poem. "Yeah, it was good!" I replied, pretending to be oblivious, and then I got up and walked briskly away. Poor guy. His poem, while very sweet, marked the death of any lingering attraction I had felt for him. It reminds me of the following conversation from Pride and Prejudice:

Mr. Darcy: I thought that poetry was the food of love.

Elizabeth Bennet: Of a fine stout love, it may. But if it is only a vague inclination I'm convinced one poor sonnet will kill it stone dead.

Over the years since I last saw Mo, Fo, and Obaid, I have wondered about them frequently. Especially after the events of September 11th and America's battle against the Taliban in Afghanistan. I hoped that none of them had returned to their home country and that any family they had still living there were OK. About 5 years ago, I ran into Mo in the bar of a local restaurant. He was actually sitting at the bar, having a drink! I wasn't sure he would remember me, so I walked past, casting him covert glances. However, he did recognize both me and my mom (who I was having dinner with), and came to our table to say "Hi." He said his family was doing well and laughed at my surprise about him drinking alcohol. When mom asked him if he still wanted to return to Afghanistan he replied, "We're too corrupt for them now!" It was good to see that despite my awkward rejection of him, Mo harbored no ill feelings and was still the same funny guy he'd always been.

Even though I'm not sure how much I liked The Kite Runner, I did enjoy the memories it brought to mind. I gained a new understanding of friends whom I have not seen in a long time, and have begun to look at the city where I spent my teen years bit differently. Who knows? Maybe someday in the future I'll find myself at Lake Elizabeth again, this time with Jeff, Vika and Eamon, watching colorful kites flying in the air.