March is ending, as are many things

We're almost at the end of March, traditionally one of my least favorite months. This year was somewhat different. As usual, I couldn't handle the twins' birthday, messed it all up, but we got through it. The anniversary of my father's death didn't seem to bother me this year (maybe after 37 years I'm OK with it?). And the weather has been so weird, so sunny and warm. It worries me, but it's hard to be miserable when the sun is shining and the flowers are starting to bloom.

Speaking of flowers, on my walk the other day I spotted a lilac in full bloom! It is too early for that. I am not sure when exactly lilacs bloom, but I think mid-April is more normal. Not March. 

Our lilac blooms in May, normally, and it doesn't look as if it's going to be early this year. In fact, it shows no sign of being alive. No, I take that back, I just spotted some teeny-tiny leaves on the branches. So, it's alive, but it won't blossom for a long time. That's a relief.

Yesterday, we participated in the No Kings rally and march in Boulder. It was hard to decide where to go -- we considered going up to Longmont or even down to Denver. All the little towns around us had their own protests too. But in the end we stayed in Boulder. We parked in Teen A's parking place in the student lot at Boulder High and walked over to where people were gathering by the bandshell. They were playing 60s protest music ("For What It's Worth" by Buffalo Springfield, etc.) and then some people gave short speeches, but we couldn't understand a word, too far away.

Then everyone started moving toward the street, so we followed. They had actually closed off the streets -- that's a first in Boulder for anything other than the Christmas parade and the Bolder Boulder race. With thousands of other people we marched down Canyon, turned right on 9th, turned right on Pine, and then right again on Broadway. 

When we got to Broadway, we kept going, crossed the street, and walked toward Arapahoe. The idea was that everyone would wave their signs as people drove by and honked -- but no one could drive by because the streets were blocked off! We waited for 15 minutes or so, but it seemed like the march would go on for a long time yet, the streets were still blocked off, and we were hot and tired. It was around 80 degrees! In March! We decided it was OK for us to go home -- we're old. The young people could stay and wait for the streets to open. I hope they did.

I was depressed before the protest, and had trouble making a sign. What can you put on a single sign, when so many things are wrong all at once? This is what I came up with -- so silly. Rocket Boy did not approve of it (I didn't approve of his sign, either). But today in the paper they mentioned someone in Kansas who had the same sign as me (with presumably different cats, lol), so I felt vindicated. And a few people laughed at my sign, so that was a good thing. I always think other people's signs are so wonderful and mine are dumb, but it was OK.

It's kind of blowing my mind that March is ending. The kids have only six weeks left of regular school, then finals week, and then they graduate on May 17th. It's going to go so fast. 

I keep thinking of that book I read last August, It. Goes. So. Fast.: The Year of No Do-Overs by Mary Louise Kelly. I really disliked the book... and yet, the title keeps running through my head. Of course, as I noted last year, EVERY year is a year of no do-overs -- you can't do a year over. And yet... senior year is really that year. If you don't go to prom, you can't go to prom the next year, because you will have graduated. If you don't take astronomy with Mr. C., you can't take astronomy with Mr. C. next year (though you could take it in college). If you don't go to the cast party for the spring musical (which Teen B is missing right now), you can't go to the cast party next year. And so on. This is it. It's almost over. No do-overs. After graduation, it's on to adult life.

But the kids seem OK with that idea. They've both made their decisions about college, and we've started filling out the forms. Teen A got started last week and then his girlfriend got home from her spring break trip and he ran off to see her. So we'll have to finish his forms soon, but at least Metro knows he's coming. Teen B made his decision today (he might have made it already, but he TOLD me about it today). He's going to go to CSU, which I think is a good choice. We started his application and I paid the $300 deposit. We'll do more as the week goes on -- there are a million things to fill out. 

*** 

Yesterday we got word that Rocket Boy's cousin June had died, Friday night, at the age of 90. She was born in 1935 -- in June, of course -- so if she'd lived a couple more months she would have made it to 91. She had serious dementia, though, and had been bedridden and on hospice since early January, and you could just hear the relief in her daughter's voice when Rocket Boy called her last night. "We haven't been able to go out to dinner together for years," she told him, referring to herself and her husband, who were June's caregivers. "We just thought, tonight, we could go out to dinner!"

Rocket Boy had meant to go to California for a visit after we heard June was on hospice, but he didn't do anything about it. I know he thought he had more time. So he'll probably go to the memorial service, which will be in mid to late April, and I'll go too if I can figure out how to make it work. It'll probably be the same weekend as prom. Hmm. We'll see.

June came to our wedding, in August 2002. So that's 23 and a half years ago, so she would have been only 67. Two years older than I am now. Twenty-five years from now, will people be hearing about my death and thinking about something that happened this year (such as the twins' graduation)?

June was not someone who did anything important in her life. She raised four children, who have experienced various degrees of success or failure (one is deceased). She buried two husbands, as they say. She worked as a cafeteria lady in a public school. I don't think she did any volunteer work or anything like that after she retired. She mainly liked to shop and watch TV. But she was a nice person, and I liked her a lot. I always looked forward to visiting her when we went to southern California, because she was such a good gossip. Not a mean gossip, but an opinionated one, always full of interesting stories about her various relatives and friends. She had a good sense of humor and was very fair. Also a Democrat, which always helps. She liked Obama, disliked Trump. She liked people!

I will miss her. Even though we knew she was already gone -- the dementia was very advanced when we last saw her, in June 2024 -- actual death seems different. More final, yeah?

*** 

I spent quite a bit of this past week reading, trying to finish various books by the end of March. I kind of bypassed my plans for the month (to read classics) and read books about autism instead. I'll write more about that in my reading post (probably on Tuesday), but here I'll just mention the last book I read, NeuroTribes, which is about the history of autism and how it's been interpreted and diagnosed and treated through the years. One thing the author, Steve Silberman, mentioned really brought me up short. He said that autistic people tend to find each other, tend to be attracted to each other, like they're finding their own people. 

Now, I've never for a moment thought I might be autistic. I've always had lots of friends, I like being with people. I have very well-rounded intelligence. One common trait of autistic people is "spiky intelligence," where they're really good at one thing, i.e., math, and really terrible at others, i.e., reading and writing (Teen B is terribly spiky). I'm good at almost everything. My SAT and GRE scores were almost identical for math and language arts. I'm creative, love to make up stories. I'm also pretty good at time management and organization. I alphabetize everything -- spices, books, records. I organize our family's vacations. I make charts and plans for all kinds of things.

But... It's a fact that a lot of people don't like me. They liked me in high school, in college, in grad school - but not anymore. I've almost given up trying to make friends. Men sometimes like me, but women just don't. I don't know why. One experience I've had is when people get to know me through my writing, they think they're going to like me, and then when they meet me in person -- nope. In fact, they often actively dislike me. I don't know why this happens, I just know it does.

Also... I really like routine. I write this blog every Sunday and have done so for YEARS. I don't know of any bloggers who are as regular as I am. Most people gave up on it long ago, or if they still do it, they do it only occasionally. I hate it when I miss a Sunday. Sometimes Teen B annoys me, the way he always wants to stick to routines, but I'm honestly just as bad (they're just slightly different routines). 

And autistic people are prone to depression and anxiety. Well, hello me. Of course, plenty of neurotypical people also have those issues. Still, hmm.  

Now, going back to that attraction thing. Before I met Rocket Boy, I knew I had a type. I described the type as "physicists and engineers," but I knew that wasn't exactly it. My Michigan boyfriend, Steve, is a lawyer. My high school boyfriend, Greg, is a doctor. But they, and most of the other guys I've been interested in through the years, have things in common. I've always thought of it as just being really smart, but that isn't it either, not exactly. My high school boyfriend wasn't that smart. Plus, really smart "normal" guys are of no interest to me whatsoever. They bore me, honestly. I feel like they're members of a different species.

I met Rocket Boy at the Boulder Singles Hikes "Anniversary Hike," in June 2000, on Father's Day. There were a lot of people there that day, and as they milled around, waiting to find out where we were going to hike, I scanned the crowd, looking for someone, anyone, that I might be interested in. I spotted Rocket Boy and immediately zeroed in on him. I thought he was cute, but it wasn't just that. He had this LOOK in his eye, this abstracted look. He was wandering the edges of the crowd, observing something -- I don't know what. He definitely wasn't doing what I was doing, looking for appealing members of the opposite sex. He had things going on in his head. THAT's what I'm attracted to, that sense that someone is thinking about something that goes way beyond what's actually happening.

Can you be attracted to autistic people without being autistic yourself? Am I autistic, even a little bit? It doesn't really matter whether I am or not, at this point in my life, but it is interesting -- and very puzzling -- to think about.

***

So, the week ahead. A few more days of March, and then we move on into April. Like last year, it looks like we're going to have more "weather" in April than we did in March. Starting Tuesday, there's a chance of rain every day, and we could even get snow Friday and Saturday nights. We could really use the moisture, any moisture, in any form, plus, it means I can wear my lavender raincoat!

The book group meets Tuesday night, finally, and Teen A has an eye doctor appointment on Wednesday. Those are the only things on the calendar, so it'll be a fairly uneventful week. I'll cook and clean and read and write and go for walks -- at least when it's not raining hard. Next Sunday is Easter. I don't have to hide eggs anymore, but Rocket Boy likes us to have some sort of special dinner, so I'll have to think about that. And on we go, into the last six weeks of high school classes. OMG.