It’s Good to be Seen

There was a time when I was more social. Whether I chalk it up to age or general life circumstances, it feels like long ago that I spent many weeknights and most weekends doing things with other people. A big portion of that was with Paul, both in our newlywed times in San Francisco and after our move to Tacoma.

Having grown up in Parkland, Paul mantained many Tacoma friendships. So it came as no surprise that we had a vibrant social life from the outset. Also unsurprisingly, we collected a bunch more once we settled in. We rode bikes and drank beers with friends and their friends and then with their friends. We had such a good thing going, and I felt like we had Tacoma covered in terms of our network of people. Then Paul started working at Tacoma Bike, and joined the Bicycle Pedestrian Transportation Advisory Group, and the sphere of people we were happy to run into around here was immeasurable. Not to diminish my own magentism by comparison(!)… I had a great group of friends. Even with a full time job in Seattle, I tried to show up whenever there was a local architecture or design event. In fact, some of those connections were instrumental to establishing my current position at Ferguson Architecture (thanks to the original Red Hot location for many introductions all those years ago!)

I don’t know about you, but one of the most reflex-driven phrases that comes out of my mouth when I see an acquaintance is “it’s good to see you.” I say it all the time, but I don’t spend a lot of time on what it means. ‘I feel good, now that I am seeing you.’ ‘It makes me happy, seeing you.’ ‘I feel relieved that things must be good, since I am seeing you.’ Typically, the other person says ‘you too.’ At some point over the 8 years that Paul and I had together in Tacoma, I noticed that his response to this reflexive greeting had shifted. “It’s good to be seen.”

I loved this response. It would have been easy for me to write this off as a very Paul thing to do, subverting the common response. But I think it was very connected to the status of his health. That this was a subtle way to express that being alive and interacting with other people is a gift. Because he knew it wouldn’t be true forever.

I’m having a hard time because Paul’s parents both recently died. For years, visiting with them was a regular part of my ‘social’ life. Once Chris and I moved them to Merrill Gardens, it was easy to stop by almost daily, and it fed my need for connection to Paul. There’s a small part of me that feels like I’ve been putting things in my life on hold, because I just haven’t been social the way that used to feel natural. I’ve lost so many of my connections to Tacoma. Is there a parallel universe of people in their 30s and 40s who are actively doing the things Paul and I used to do? I assume so but it’s inconceivable that it’s nearly as fun.

I recently went to a Downtown Tacoma Partnership meeting, initially because it was held at the new Commencement Bank headquarters and branch that I helped design and complete. I thought I was there for snacks and a peek at my project, but then I listened to everyone introduce themselves and their business, market idea, or strategic role in the development of downtown Tacoma. I was struck by the realization that I have taken myself out of the community and THINGS ARE STILL HAPPENING!

I used to do things. I designed banners for Pacific Ave to support Tacoma Urban Forest, I served on local boards, and championed open water swimming at our beaches. I went to local design events, and I pitched ideas for Beautiful Angle posters. I miss that version of myself, and I want her back.

As my Daruma doll shows, I have plans. And I want to be seen.