Rot

Only recently I realize sitemeter.com is no more. Apparently July 1, 2017 it officially "retired".

I had the tracker on my blog since day 1. 11 years' worth of visits. And now, poof! Gone. Kind of harsh.

That'll teach you the impermanence of things in life and life itself.

Site Meter is dead, they say. Looks like they started to go downhill circa 2012-2015, depending on whom you ask. There was talk about unethical practice such as stealing customers.

I feel betrayed. So unsettling.

Site Meter is dead. Shouldn't surprise me, since blogs have been dead a while now, too.

My mother recently revealed that at some points in her life, she was working three jobs to save money for the future.

"Before you had us, right?" I asked. I knew that she'd worked hard in her 20's just to save up to get married, have their own home, etc.

"Even after," she replied. "It was going to take a lot to put you through college."

That was a punch in the gut. "That was why I worked so many hours," she continued. "Even in the weekends."

I do recall. But I hadn't realized. I worked three jobs myself in the first quarter of 2016 and was exhausted. Can't imagine doing that on an continuous basis. And I have known women who do, day in and day out, for decades, just to have enough to support their family. I don't know how they do it. I shudder.

To think that for years I thought my mother a workaholic. I thought she enjoyed work more than spending time with us. I resented it.

Many Sundays, her only day off, she'd stay in bed until noon or past it, reluctant to start the day. I thought she was in no hurry to get up to spend time with her own family. I felt slighted.

Little did I know.

For years I struggled to forgive. Turned out there was nothing to forgive. I am an asshole.

Oh, the things that parents don't tell you.

You know what they say, that essentially you marry your parents (if you are "normal", I guess).

RJ has characteristics that are clearly my Dad's. No surprise there. He is artistic, a free spirit, loves nature and science, doesn't believe in convention. I am just now connecting the dots between him and Mom. *gasp*

RJ also is not thrilled to get up in the morning. Like, ever. And I am just now wishing that it wasn't so.

I understand. He has been this way for as long as I have known him. I understand what life can do to crush one's soul. I know better than to wish your spouse would change.

Yet I do find myself wishing that RJ had reasons to get up, things to be psyched about. Joy.

Joy: which I often also lack.

When I visit my parents, I feel like I am getting up for them. Back stateside, there seems no motive. I imagine a partner who may want to rise early, have breakfast, and go hiking (JD would laugh - Asians and their hiking!) and inspire me to do the same.

But I know that one must not look outside of oneself for joy and raison d'etre. It is not up to my partner to lift me. I am responsible for my own damned self.

My. Own. Damned. Self.

Blogs are dead. It is so like me to hang on to the antiquated and expiring.