Introspection

The Long Game

/ Susan Scrupski / Leave a comment

It’s the day after Christmas. I was going through my old photos of Europe. I found this old unretouched one. It not only brought back a fond memory; it reminded me of why I took the photo in the first place. I wanted to preserve the moment to inform my future self.

This photo was taken on the lawn in back of the Eiffel Tower. You can see my teenage son napping on the lawn in a fetal position in the background.

It was the spring of 2012. I was living in Austin at the time with my son who was a Sophomore in high school. My daughter was studying in Paris enrolled in NYU’s prestigious semester abroad program. Every spring, the second week of March turned the city of Austin into a carnival. One of the country’s best festivals took place downtown: SXSW. Pre-pandemic, SXSW brought hundreds of thousands of festival goers to the Texas Capital. But, if you were an Austin resident, it was chaos and the traffic was more-than-usual insufferable.

I knew someone, okay a rich guy, who had a flat in Paris that he allowed his friends to use when he was not in town. I figured I had nothing to lose by asking if he would allow me to stay there, so I could have a nice Paris holiday with my kids, and avoid the SXSW madness. To my surprise, he did.

I remember exactly when I took this photo. My son was predictably acting like a moody teenager and expressing his indifference to our Parisian excursion. My daughter was happy to see us, and loved staying in the million dollar flat off of the Champs-Élysées. For about a week, we could pretend we lived a different life.

But the fact that we were all together in Paris, my son was well on his way to his own college journey, and my daughter was going to graduate with honors from NYU was a remarkable achievement.

I took this selfie to remind me… IT GETS BETTER.

I had come so far in my life, and I wanted to remind myself that even in times where it looks like there is no hope and no way out, you never know what the future holds. In nearly every circumstance when I’ve hit a low, the successive highs have been demonstrably better.

Life is a long game. Hold out for the upside. Even if you only see it sometimes in the rear-view mirror.

Saying Goodbye to my Life Partner

/ Susan Scrupski / 2 Comments

The end is coming soon. Mouse, my BFF, is 14 years old. The vet told me she has a mass on her heart, and there is nothing they can do. I just have to try to keep her comfortable.

Mouse arrived on my doorstep in 2007. It was a turbulent time in our life. My husband and I had just divorced months before, and the whole family was struggling to adjust to our new life.

A tiny baby kitten, The Mouse* simply, “arrived.” There was no indication how she got there, or where her mother was, or any clues about who she was. My son, who was 11 at the time said, “Mouse is a gift from God.”

Of course, we took her in and fed her. We noticed she walked with a limp. She did not have use of one of her hind legs. The vet said she had nerve damage and that he could amputate her leg, but he recommended we wait and see what happens as she grows.

Mouse grew healthy and strong as a young cat. Yet, she walked with a limp, and therefore could be labeled, “disabled.” But her disability never got in her way. She would jump 6-ft fences, and run around the house oblivious that she had a physical handicap.

Somewhere along the way, I realized Mouse and I shared that in common. I, too, had a lifelong disability, but it didn’t prevent me from enjoying my life and pursuing the fun things I wanted to do.

Mouse and I have been on a long journey together. She has been at my side moving from NJ to Texas; seeing my kids graduate high school; moving from Texas to Florida; seeing the kids graduate college; moving from Florida to South Dakota. She’s comforted me through many difficult transitions.

She has really been the only sentient being that has been anchored in my life. Always present; always loyal. Never asking too much and giving her love freely.

As her small spirit travels back to where it miraculously came from, I will miss her dearly and continue to be grateful for her loving presence all these years.

Sweet , amazing, very best friend. Thank you for a life well-lived.

*My daughter Amie, who nursed her as a baby, named her formally, “The Mouse.”

Update: I found this photo when she first arrived. It’s dated July 13, 2006. That means she is 15, not 14. It also means she arrived weeks after the divorce. A gift, indeed.

Sweet baby.

Who is Maya Angelou?

/ Susan Scrupski / Leave a comment

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” – Maya Angelou

It was probably 2014, around this time (May 28), when Maya Angelou passed that everyone was talking about the famous poet. I had just begun working on my startup dedicated to violence against women after my long career in technology. At that time, my oldest daughter was working with me. I asked her, “Who is Maya Angelou?”

She was shocked and somewhat appalled that I could ask such an ignorant literary question.

She told me she was one of the most famous contemporary poets and civil rights activists of our time. I shrugged, and went on with what I was doing.

It took me a few years to finally dig into Angelou’s brilliance. When I found the poem, Still I Rise, I recognized myself in it. It reminded me of what one of my male tech partners once said about me that I didn’t understand, so I had to look it up. He told me he admired how I would, “Rise like a Phoenix, over and over again.”

Such a universal truth for women emboldened with the will to survive, to overcome.

And therein lies some of the mystery as to why I’m uninformed as to the great feminist writers. I spent a lifetime competing in a man’s world, surrounded by men, reading men’s words predominantly. I did not have the luxury to invest in learning about the oppression and discrimination that dogged me throughout my professional career.

I am learning now.