My past adventures in being primary (and only!) caregiver to my 91 and 92 year old parents for three years, through home hospice admissions and ultimately to their passing in January 2016 within nine days of each other. I am also writing about what it's like to learn how to embrace a new way of life.
I love puzzles. I love any kind of puzzle. I'm so weird I even love math word problems.
This will be a decidedly short post and because I love puzzles, I'm going to post one - see if you can solve it... :-)
John and Katie
PLUS (+)
One Engagement Ring
E Q U A L (=)
KATIE AND JOHN ARE ENGAGED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Needless to say, we are excited, thrilled and happy for both of them. We love them both and wish them all kinds of happiness.
This means that my little family has TWO (count 'em two!) engaged couples - one wedding on the calendar (Justin and Stephanie - 21 June 2009) and the promise of another wedding (TBA).
We officially, and with great affection, and excitement welcome Stephanie and John to the Cook/Parker clan. I will officially be the grandma to three grandcats (Boo Radley, Olive and Soprano), and I am looking so forward to having a new daughter-in-law (Stephanie) and son-in-law (John).
Empty nesting was an adjustment, but it's turned rather exciting. I love the nests my kids are creating and the special people they have chosen to nest with.
I couldn't possibly be more happy and pleased. As any Mom will tell you, when the kids are happy - I'm happy!!!!
Today is about the endless possibilities and mystery of love.
Today was a very precious day for me. It started out sunny and just kept getting better.
One of my best friends in Wilmington dropped by my office with a beautiful plant in a huge tea cup and saucer. What a perfect present - I am, after all, a confirmed teetotaler. I believe Sharon was the prototype God used when he was compiling His list of attributes that should go into the creation of exactly what a friend should be.
I went to a meeting tonight and I received lots of hugs and hand clasps. I picked up my five year chip. It serves as a reminder of so much more than five years. The past five years have been filled with more blessings than I could possibly merit and grace beyond my imagination.
After the meeting, a very special friend patiently waited for me to finish a business meeting, and then took me to one of my favorite restaurants to celebrate this miracle of a milestone that started five years ago on a day that felt like the darkest hour the universe could deliver. No surprise I guess, I read somewhere that it's always darkest before the dawn, and even though I was in no shape to realize it at the time, my "dawn" was about to begin.
Five years ago my Daddy told me that it would be OK, that I would rise up from the low place I found myself inhabiting. I found it impossible to believe, but I had to believe this man I revere and respect and trust so much, was telling me the truth. I clung to the hope that he was right. As it turns out, he knew what he was talking about and, one day at a time, the fog began to lift, my vision began to clear and my focus returned.
When I finally put down the bottle, I picked up a white chip and, with the help of God, I also picked up a real life. A sober existance.
So many times today, as I shared with my friend Steve over an incredibly delicious prime rib, I was frequently startled today as my mind replayed the events of that day five years ago. I didn't know you could get from where I was then, to where I am now. I had tears in my eyes five years ago, mostly from sheer desperation and fear. I had tears in my eyes this evening, too, but they sprang from immense gratitude and a measure of thanksgiving that just feels huge.
Learning to live life on life's terms can be frustrating, confusing and sometimes downright annoying but I have to tell you, it's just the best gig going and I just have to say that the good days have far exceeded the not so good moments.
To my daughter Katie, my son Justin, my amazing parents, my sponsor, my faithful friends both inside and outside the Fellowship, I just want to say a huge, heartfelt THANK YOU, for holding me in your prayers, holding my hand when I needed it, encouraging me when I felt small and inadequate and cheering me on through every one of those "steps". "The Promises" Bill Wilson wrote about in the Big Book aren't fiction. It's about "AMAZING GRACE", and it saved me, in every way a person can be saved. Life isn't perfect - it never has been and it never will be but I can tell you this without reservation...
It is late just now. I have a million swirling thoughts, observations and lots of feelings and impressions that are percolating inside of me, but haven't attached themselves to the proper words quite yet. They are steeping, like fine jasmine tea in a tea pot and they are even more ethereal than the exotic aroma of delicate jasmine pearls.
Last week was just all good stuff, from every conceivable angle. All of it. We so enjoyed our visit with Katie Jane from the moment my Dad and I picked her up in Cary, after she and John flew in from New York City, until the last, lingering moments for a few extra snapshots captured in our kitchen, when it was time for them to head back to Cary Saturday Evening, in preparation to fly back to NYC on Sunday Morning.
As Katie and John headed for the northland, I headed upstairs as soon as their car left the driveway and I spilled a few tears. Extrication, even after a joyful time, can be searingly painful. Yet even as my eyes were leaking tears, it felt wrong because it nearly felt like I was complaining and honestly, upon quick reexamination of the past week, I could think of nothing to complain about at all. Not one thing. The fact that the week flew by simply meant that it was just that great because everyone knows that great times fly by.
There's so much in life, in all of our lives, where our current realities are intricately tied to "back stories", which we generally refer to as 'history'; If you've lived any length of time at all, you carry your own "back story", and that history or "herstory", if you want to be gender specific, in some way colors every experience that follows - sometimes boldly, but more often than not, subliminally. It occurred to me that even the rough times in the past years, were valuable because in many ways those times have been essential in that they enhance the wonderful moments and how could we truly appreciate the fine moments without recognizing them for the gifts they are? It would be impossible, wouldn't it?
Christmas 2008 was brimming and rich in sweet times and remarkable not because we did remarkable things; in fact, we did nothing out of the ordinary at all and yet, all of that "ordinariness" made for an extraordinary time. I'm so grateful for things ordinary and extraordinary. For peace. Love. Quietude. More love. The absence of worry and the warmth of contentment which emanates from family, friends, cats and a really fine dog.
There are so many to be grateful to and so much to be grateful for. The essence of the season was more than palpable - having little to do with elegantly wrapped presents, (although the presents were great!), but due much more to elegantly wrapped experiences, time spent together, soaking in each others' company and understanding what an inestimably precious gift it is to know just how blessed we are, in real time, to be sharing our home, our lives and our time with those we love so much. That was Christmas for me.
I hope your Christmas was something like that, too. If it was, then you must know how blessed you are, too.
"Yes, I was a seeker, I sought Him both night and day, I asked the Lord to help me, He showed me the way. Down in the manger, Humble Child was born. God sent us salvation On that Christmas Morn..."
I guess I took a break from blogging, but certainly not from living. I can't exactly put my finger on the exact cause of my blogus interruptus, but there have been a few legitimate contributing factors.
When last I tapped out an entry, we were days away from an election. November was closing in fast. I was pleased with the outcome, at least nationally, and as I've watched the transition begin, I am sincerely impressed with the manner in which the president-elect is assembling his team, reaching out across party lines and also his affect of graciousness. This morning, I watched Tom Brokaw's interview with Barack Obama on "Meet the Press" and, again, I am amazed at manner in which his brilliance is co-mingled with equal parts of common sense and compassion. I truly do feel as if our ship of state is in supremely capable hands with this man at the helm.
The day after the election, Katie and I found ourselves on the phone for our daily lunchtime chat and then suddenly, after dissecting the election results she asked me, in a rather bewildered tone, "what are we going to talk about now?". We both laughed, realizing that we had been completely immersed in primaries, debates, sound-bites and "Palin-tology". Fortunately, however, it didn't take us long to realize that we could easily move onto other topics and our conversations have remained as lively and stimulating as always. I never doubted that for a second. We've never been at a loss for words - I love listening to her extrapolations and considered points of view and perspectives.
Speaking of Katie, she's been quite busy herself up in madcap Manhattan. Since my last blog, she's managed to find a new position - she's now assistant director with a progressive preschool on the Upper West Side of Manhattan which was only five blocks from her apartment until...she and John regained their gypsy ways and MOVED! John and Katie now live in the West 60's, near Columbus Circle and Central Park, and not only have they moved on, but they've moved up - to the 18th floor! NO MORE STAIRS and more square footage including......a dishwasher (and I don't mean John.). I'm told the kitchen is all stainless steel, high-tech appliances, hardwood floors and a terrace.
It was from this terrace that Katie had the odd and interesting experience of looking DOWN on the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade floats as it passed by their street. She reported that she didn't realize the balloons weren't as tall as she had previously thought as they drifted past Thanksgiving Morning. I'm still waiting on interior photos...ahem. However, in a display of nothing but pure, parental pride on my part, Katie had this photo published in "Gothamist". (Taken from the kitchen window of their new apartment...nice view!). It should be noted that everything she has learned of photography she did NOT inherit from me. Additionally, Katie has shared with us that she has been stepping out on John, but she's been completely upfront about it. Ignoring the wise adage never to date anyone at work, she's crossed that line and can frequently be found in the cozy company of a younger man. She did send me a photo of him and, admittedly, he's a handsome fella, having just celebrated his one year birthday. John is taking it as well as can be expected, admirably so, hoping I'm sure that it's a fleeting fling, but some days it's all Katie can seem to talk about. John must be a very strong, devoted man to stand by her like this. :-)
Justin has been doing great, too! He and Stephanie moved into a new townhome in Milton, West Virginia (home of Blenko Glass!), and both of them have been working hard with his Dad in preparing for the opening of the shiny, new "Direct Buy" store in Cross Lanes, West Virginia. They had their grand opening last Saturday and by all accounts, things are going great.
Justin doesn't check in every day with chatty phone calls which means I call him at least every other day for updates and news. He was wildly excited by the first snowfall a few weeks ago and stayed up extra late just to watch the flakes fly. This is the first time my West Texas born son has lived among mountains and it's been quite a new experience for him and North Carolina born and bred Stephanie.
Stephanie's Mom and Grandmother visited in late October for a long weekend and took in "Bridge Day", marveled at the fall colors, visited Hawks Nest, Charleston and Huntington. I spoke with Steph's grandma the week after she returned and her first comment was, "I had no idea how beautiful West Virginia is! I want to go back soon!". Needless to say, I believe she was quite impressed. I know the kids enjoyed their North Carolina visitors immensely.
In the time since I last blogged, Stephanie and Justin have added another year to their age - born exactly two weeks apart, they are now the ripe old age of 22. Apparently Justin is carrying on the male Cook tradition of enjoying the companionship of older women, even if that older woman is only older by two weeks! My Dad frequently points out that he, himself, married an older woman - my mother being one year and one month older. He has never let her forget it and, fortunately for my Mom, she simply ignores it knowing she can outdo anyone in this house with both hands tied behind her back.
And then, of course, there has been work. Lots of it! This has been a busy time where I work and we're growing fast. For as dismal as this economy has been, and continues to be, it's been great for our business. We have been accelerating in production which means that I have been hovering over and tinkering with all manner of Excel spreadsheets. They are growing longer and longer and longer which means sales are climbing at a very nice pace.
Last Monday evening, I was invited to have dinner with our president, George, out of Greenville, SC, and my boss Rich, here in Wilmington, along with my friend David, who is a manager at the Greenville office. In fact, when I first interviewed for this position back in June, George and Rich were present at what I affectionately refer to as "the first interrogation". I told them this past Monday Evening, over escargot (they made me take a bite), duck, scallops and my own filetmignon, that if I had realized that the true nature of my work would be almost specifically accounting and so overwhelmingly statistical in nature, I would have thanked them for the opportunity to meet them, given each of them a warm handshake and gracefully pulled myself out of the competition. I knew the title of the job was "Operations Manager" and "Branch Office Administrator", but that struck me as rather vague and, quite candidly, I just assumed I would be pushing paper and typing a few letters and maybe, on rare occasions, filling out a check request. Ha! Was I ever wrong.
Who knew there were 22 column spreadsheets, complete with formulas and functions to figure out, just waiting for me to fill in and that I would find myself juggling New Business Reports, Issue Reports, Profit, Loss, Expense and Production Reports and that , the totals on each of these were tied into each other and must be reconciled weekly and monthly; that each columnar total had to be accurate in order to tie in to concurrent reporting and that monthly totals had to be broken down by product, type and agent! I had absolutely NO IDEA what I was heading into and thank God I didn't.
Fortunately, when we started, we were an office of three: Rich, Robert and me. The production was easy to track and the totals were more than manageable giving me the chance for some very real and serious "on the job" training. Another facet of all of this is that I was put in charge of recruiting and it's funny now, 8 agents later, but it took me a while to realize that each person I was interviewing could potentially result in longer spreadsheets, more tracking, more Excel spreadsheets! Oy! In fact, with each new hire, my work increased exponentially. The correlation between recruiting and the increased accounting load took a little while for me to understand - here I was, looking for people who would inevitably make my work more complex and numeric. How crazy is that? Well, duh, of course that was the point! I just didn't initially, back in what I now refer to as "the salad days", quite understand the machinations of it all.
So of course now, when I interview people at a first briefing, I size them up and, as I chat up the really sharp applicants, realize that a sterling criteria can be distilled into one simple question: Which one of these people possess the ability to make my work even MORE overwhelming and elongate my "new business report" to quadruple digit rows? Putting aside fear for my own private sanity, I realize it's my mission to facilitate in the hiring of the folks who have the potential to provide me with the greatest headaches and, every now and then I glance at the one hallowed spot among the agent mailboxes that houses the extra large size of Advil that Rich has placed within convenient reach of my desk. As Rich always says with a smirk..."I'm a giver...".
Now, what has been truly amazing and unfathomable for me, this person who has always preferred the currency of words, is how much I have grown to enjoy my work. I know, I'm stunned by it myself. I can't believe how much I have been fascinated by how this business has grown from day one. I have come to discover and covet the giddy, satisfying buzz one feels when all of my columns reconcile TO THE SECOND DECIMAL POINT. I have found myself playing with mathematical functions on the Vista Version of Excel and learning how to correspond those totals to other spreadsheets automatically and being astonished when they work just like they're supposed to. It's some crazy stuff I'm learning!
Now, I write this as the daughter of a man who has spent his entire career and retirement reveling and basking in the joy of numbers. My father was an accountant for several coal companies throughout his successful career. My dad adores numbers. He is an Excel spreadsheet genius. My Dad has one of the sunniest dispositions I have ever encountered and I don't recall ever finding him in a low mood. Ever. He can find sunshine in almost every situation. He's just a really happy guy and always has been and he smiles quite easily and often. I must tell you, however, that when he opened up a file I sent him, sharing with him the sort of work I do, this man's face lit up in mega wattage. He looked up at me and said, "Wow, this is what you do? My goodness, you have a GREAT job! If I were younger...".
He's been proud of my writing. He would always compliment my newspaper columns which he read faithfully for the five years it ran. He was always pleased to see me published in "Wilma", "Greater Wilmington Business Journal", and enjoyed reading my work in "PC Magazine" both online and in the printed magazine however, I have rarely seen him light up as he did when he truly discovered the scope of work I am doing. I think my conversion from Microsoft Word to Microsoft Excel has made this man ecstatic. I laugh at him as I send him updated versions of my new business report, so proud is he that back in October he actually printed one out and taped the entire thing together which took 13 sheets of paper and gave me to display in the office. I don't think he ever printed any of my articles and taped them anywhere. Who knew that a spreadsheet held such power? I do believe that, as far as my Dad is concerned, "I HAVE ARRIVED". I believe he probably imagines that my new-found fascination with this genre of work is probably due to a recessive accounting gene (from his contribution to my DNA), that has FINALLY, at LONG LAST, awakened xeroxed itself.
Now, here's the part that kind of has me a little concerned. Most people claim that they "leave their jobs at the office", as well they should, right? Historically, without someone pointing a gun or a paycheck at me, I would never voluntarily open an Excel Spreadsheet up at home. It's like I could find 10,000 other things to do on a computer without ever considering opening a blank spreadsheet on one of my home computers. I haven't confessed this in print before and maybe it's the reason I haven't blogged because I know I have a tendency to turn this blog into a bit of a confessional but hey, it's good for the soul, right? Here's the issue and it's not easy to write about but, well, I have been keeping track of my finances, receipts, expenditures, the whole ball of wax. I now save ATM receipts and I log them, along with gasoline purchases, even freaking small Dunkin' Donut receipts aren't safe from my control and reportage. Frankly, I'm a little scared. A mere year ago I would throw those things away and never think twice and now, almost every evening I find myself fishing out receipts in my purse from purchases made that day and it's kind of freaking me out. I mean, I try and play it cool and still maintain the facade of the crazy blond, spreadsheet unencumbered ditz, but it's getting harder and harder to hide my new hobby.
I think I'm turning into my Dad. I look in the mirror and I look the same, but I can't deny the fact that I update my personal finance spreadsheet on a daily basis. I know, I know, admitting you have a problem is the first step, right? But the thing is, work, my family, they're all enabling me! Should I add another "AA" to my repertoire? Is there, in fact, an "Accounting Anonymous"? I don't think I have time to add another 12-Step group to my schedule. This may well prove to be an addiction I may have to make peace with.
Speaking of AA, I was elected the Intergroup Rep from my home group a few weeks ago which means that I attend a meeting at headquarters every other month to report back to my home group the goings on at our local main office. It didn't sound like that big of a deal so of course, I accepted the role and figured it would basically involve keeping up with information such as new meetings in the area, methods of reaching out to the community, etc., Sounded harmless enough, right?
On the third Thursday of October, I arrived at my first meeting at Intergroup, and took my place among the other home group reps and, upon being warmly greeted by the head of Intergroup here in Wilmington, was handed an agenda and some accompanying papers that were to be discussed. I sat down in my chair, opened up the papers to see that it contained, what else, a spreadsheet with budget information and Intergroup assets, expenses and all manner of pertinent financial information and a proposed budget for next year. I just sat there, after leaving four minimized spreadsheets on my work computer amid my cluttered desk, thinking I was in a "safe place" at local AA headquarters, to be hit with budgets and expenditure forecasts? Egads, I thought. I can't get away from this stuff! Even AA isn't a safe haven for a burgeoning numbers addict. I had to laugh. There I was trying to be a "normal" recovering alcoholic and they hand me paperwork to facilitate my newest addiction. I shared this experience with a couple of trusted AA friends who wisely offered, "Susie, this is probably God doing for you what you couldn't do for yourself...". Figures.
On January 12, 2009, I will celebrate (God-willing) five years of no longer taking a drink. Now...I take a number. What a crazy world, isn't it? Sobriety remains full of surprises and I continue to be grateful for each one of them. One day at a time, of course.
Between work and work, I have turned my attention to rearranging the upstairs of my home. Since Justin moved in July, I have gained incredible amounts of square-footage. There is so much space up here now. My kind and generous boss, Rich, graciously gave me a beautiful and very heavy desk and I love it. After he and his lovely wife (and Bobby) delivered it one Sunday Afternoon, my Mom and Dad came up to see it (it's a really nice desk), and as I was contemplating how to get it into what used to be my old office, my Mom brilliantly suggested, "Why don't you use it in the loft - leave it right where it is?". I thought about it for two-seconds and realized it was pure genius. It offered me plenty of room, quick access to my beloved books in the built in shelves, and freed up another room because I wasn't really using the loft for anything. My Dad helped me set it up and it fits perfectly and I don't know what to do with all this space!
Of course, change begets change, right? And so I soon decided that I would turn what used to be my office into my bedroom so that necessitated more moving (and sore muscles) and that, of course, meant that I became a fan of Craig's List. In fact, I tell people that my house is now decorated in "Early Craig's List". Let's see - in the past few weeks, I have snagged a stained glass window which overlooks the open space that used to house that dreadful bird aviary, an almost new barely used Sharp flat screen TV, a 3 year old Kirby G-6 Vacuum that originally cost $1200 that I got for $100 and has ALL the attachments and sucks out dirt you had no idea was lurking in places you can't imagine! And yesterday, my Craig's List surfing resulted in an antique pie safe that my Dad and I secretly picked up and surprised my Mom with for her birthday which is December 13th - when she'll celebrate being a spry 85 years young. She loved it and it looks GREAT! Craig's List is like sports shopping and I enjoy it immensely except for one thing - the spelling drives me nuts on there and one word in particular makes me scream - people advertise tables that one eats at as "dinning room tables" and my gosh, do you have any idea how prevalent the misspelling of that word is? I want to shout - there aren't THREE N'S in there people! I know it's a crazy pet peeve, but what about spell check? Spell check is our friend and I'm hardly flawless but how can you look at "dinning" and NOT see something amiss? Sometimes I have to take a walk after seeing so many ads for "beautiful dinning room table - it will look great in your dinning room!". What in the world is a dinning room? Moments like that, I just have to get up and take a walk or clean an aquarium or I can be found muttering...DROP the DOUBLE N!
Speaking of aquariums, the fish are thriving and multiplying and every week I have a pair of pink convict cichlids that multiply some more. If anyone reading this in the Wilmington, North Carolina area would like about 100 baby pink convict cichlids and knows how to spell the word "DINING (as in DINING ROOM TABLE), I would be glad to set you up. These pink convicts are proliferate and they're such GREAT parents. Really, it's fascinating to watch them - they will fight off intruders (including my hand which has been bitten many times when placing fry food in the tank) with a remarkable, primitive ferocity. The parental instinct in these fish is incredible. They will scoop the babies in their mouths, dig sand caves in the corner and spit them out. Of course, even pink convict babies don't listen and within about ten seconds, they sneak out of the safe place and will wander back out into the open tank but, ever vigilant Mom and Dad race in and corral them right back home. It's fascinating and a lot of fun to observe.
And here we are in December. How in the world did that happen? Where did this year go and I know it's redundant and I say it every single year but my gosh, in the words of John Mayer, "STOP THIS TRAIN". Time is flying by so very fast. We were at our neighbors yesterday morning for their annual neighborhood Christmas Brunch where all manner of soups, sweets and neighbors catching up with neighbors was bountiful as it always is. It's always so much fun to see these wonderful people in our neighborhood (even if most of them were McCain supporters) who we see walking around during the rest of the year, gardening, mowing, raking or watching their kids move away because we all have kids who have grown up, but never really having the chance to truly catch up with what's been going on. The Freshwaters afford us this opportunity every December and we all look forward to it. This year, it was BYOB (bring your own bowl). We had a fantastic time and my Dad enjoyed hugging all of our female neighbors and ignoring their respective husbands. He's such a flirt and always in his glory.
This is our ninth Christmas in this town and I moved here with adolescent kids who have grown up and moved North (and who still delight in calling me at odd hours to report that "MOM, it's SNOWING RIGHT NOW!", always to get the response from me, "I'm so happy it's you...and not me!". But still, I revel in the enthusiasm with which they greet it and then I wonder to myself, how in the world did I raise kids who like cold weather and frozen precipitation? Was it something I ate during my pregnancy? Did I watch Rudolph too many times? Was it the ice cream I scarfed down? How did these Southern bred kids become Yankees???? (I know, Justin lives in WV, but as far as I'm concerned, that qualifies him for a Yankee if, for no other reason than climatological data).
Unfortunately, Justin will not be able to make it in because his boss told me that he has to work the day after Christmas. Of course, his boss is his father and from what I can tell in talking to both of them, they're having a great time working together in this mammoth business venture! It's fun to hear them speak of each other in a way that implies they are truly working closely and well - father and son. Pretty cool. Quite a blessing, indeed. From what I can tell, there's a lot of mutual respect going back and forth between them. I love that.
Katie, however, will be arriving on December 23rd and we can't wait! We'll certainly miss Justin and Stephanie, but we'll enjoy having Katie and John visit. I haven't seen her since her visit in May which feels like years ago! She may be all grown up, but she's still my little girl. I definitely need a Katie fix!
Sometimes, especially now that I don't see either one of these kids everyday, when I do see them, I just find myself studying them, fascinated at who they've grown into being, amazed and even more grateful that God configured so perfectly to place them in my life. I can't begin to adequately articulate how much I've grown to admire and respect both of them and who knew that the tsunami of love that one feels for their child at birth, can grow to such expansive, infinite proportions? And it keeps growing in ways no one can probably explain because it's just massive. Isn't it? I mean, you know how you don't think you can love someone any more than you do at certain times, but the great thing about love, is that it reaches so far beyond what you were sure was the limit - the bar constantly continues to be raised and it intrisically exceeds itself. For me, it's such a keen reminder of God, the largess of something intangible, so overwhelming as to render itself impossible to quantify. There is no scale to it and, apparently, absolutely no limit at all. Then again, that's what this season is all about isn't it? It's where the light first became lit, the source of everything that is good and valuable and most precious to each of us with the advent of that birth. Because of that humble beginning, I have all of this incalculable love. I need to remind myself to remember that source of this season more often. I would have nothing without it. I wouldn't even "be" at all.
I'm grateful. I'm just so grateful. I'm even grateful for people who sometimes insert extra "N's" in "dining". I'm just that grateful.
If you're reading this, I'm grateful for you, too.
A few weeks ago, I received a call from my dear, sweet friend Michel in Nantes, France. We had such a great talk and it feels like I've known him forever. We were talking about our respective kids, the two Thanksgivings he'd shared with our family in the past ten years, and what was going on in our lives. His work sounded most decidedly much more intriguing than mine - he had just finished translating Zbigniew Brezinzki's latest book from into French, along with even more stimulating projects. He has always been one of my most valued and trusted writing supporters and my respect for his opinion and talent is boundless, along with being such a trusted, special friend. Michel asked me why I hadn't been writing much (at all) lately. It was a legitimate question and I shared some things with him that had evolving inside of me in these past few months.
Quite a few years ago, the ever astute Michel made the remark that I was "becoming the person you were raised to be", after what was really just a lull in a tumultuous time. His remark struck me at the time because I knew that whatever I might look like on the outside, on the inside I still wasn't close to being who I was raised to be. I guess his remark lingered in my head because I knew innately there was such a disparity between the truth of that statement and my own reality at the time he made it.
In fact, I was spiraling - I remember wishing that I was even close to becoming who I was raised to be, but I was at least honest enough with myself to know that, in fact, I wasn't even in the same neighborhood of any of that. I still had quite a few years to fall before I could begin to get up and assess the situation. I had much more damage to do (mostly to myself) but even given the point where I was at that time, Michel's statement sounded an alarm in the very deepest part of my (then) fragile being. I wanted to be able to say with clarity and honesty that yes, indeed, I am very much close to being the person I was raised to be...
At the time, it felt like a hopeless dream of a goal.
During these past few months, my parents and I have keenly missed Justin, as we did Katie when she first flew the coop. The absence created by his relocation was nothing less than a very real adjustment. He'd never really lived away from home and you'd be surprised how seeing the same guy for almost 22 years can become a habit. It was so quiet after he moved and I think, in some way, that we each stayed "up" for each other almost as much for ourselves. Of course, it required that indispensible but impossible to rush commodity of time. Time takes time and it never allows itself to be rushed.
So many changes have taken place since January 12, 2004 - the day after I took my last drink. Relationships have changed in a variety of positive ways but perhaps the relationship that changed most profoundly was the relationship with myself. In those first days, weeks and months of sobriety, you run the gamut of feelings toward yourself - and a lot of it is of the "self-loathing" variety which you have to walk through and then out of and you have to accept the fact that you have been sick, very very ill, because of the disease that's been chipping away at your whole being. And then, as time moves on, you learn acceptance and at some point, perhaps when you're not even paying attention, some threshold is crossed and lo and behold, you start to truly believe that you're actually an OK person - and then you learn that you truly can depend not only on others, but most of all, on yourself. You discover that you can be trusted probably long after many others close to you have granted you another chance. It's often said that we can be our own worst critics and I believe that's often the case, at least it has been with me many times.
Plunged into the quietness of this house after Justin moved, I've spent more time around my Mom and Dad. I've often said that I want to be just like them when I grow up and I really do because they've managed to grow up without losing their youth, their playfulness and impishness, their sense of wonder with just about everything - and even though they've been around on this planet over 80 years, they still retain that wonder. My Mom can point out a flower in the yard or the first tomatoes or cucumbers on a plant every year and she does so as if it's the very first time she's ever seen such a thing - with a genuine expression of pure awe at something she's witnessed many times before.
My Dad is exactly the same way - he can be genuinely dazzled by a meticulously cut yard, a sudden growth spurt of a plant, or even the way Cassie comes inside after it's started raining and voluntarily holds each paw up to be dried off and how she likes her face wiped in a very specific fashion. These are the kinds of things that positively capture their attention and how wise they are not to overlook them, to take notice of these seemingly small things that maybe aren't so small at all.
I have observed in these past few months how both of them find deep joy in their routines, how this couple who lived through losing their oldest daughter back in 1973, managed to rediscover joy in the details of everyday life - how these routines, putting one foot in front of the other, sustained them until the magic and wonder of life resumed its proper place allowing for things like tomatoes blooming and leaves turning to captivate them once again. They haven't simply spent all these years living - they have lived well and from what I can see - there's a huge difference in those two things. It is their continued joy in each day that has made such a huge impression on me these past few months. "Living well" is such an art and it has absolutely nothing to do with money at all but has everything to do with Grace. Grace has so many excellent definitions but the one I'm probably thinking of just now is this: "a virtue or excellence of divine origin."
When I spoke with Michel a couple of weeks ago, I tried to explain that what I was experiencing, didn't lend itself well to writing just yet, but that I knew in time it would. And I believe it will, but lately, I have felt like a sponge of sorts, enjoying the new routines I've established, finding joy in things I never would have imagined containing anything fascinating or remarkable. In a way, the things I've previously thought to be unremarkable, have proven to be the most remarkable. The point of it all that has eluded me for so very many years, is the simple lesson that joy and wonder can be found everywhere if I'm willing and determined to see it. It really is just that easy.
Back to Michel's long ago observation, that I was "becoming the person my parents raised me to be", well, it occured to me that in fact, it appears as if I had found that path and was, at the very least, heading in the right direction with as sturdy a compass as I've ever felt in my pocket. Not only does my compass feel reliable, but I have learned to depend on it and trust both my compass and me. There's a lot to be said for heading in the right direction...
The other night I was having dinner with my parents and my Dad always begins dinner with an elegant "grace". After he blessed dinner, they were discussing how much they missed Justin and Katie but then, my Dad looked across the table at me and said, "But you know what? I sure have enjoyed the three of us being able to spend time together." And then my Mom suddenly remarked that she was "so proud of me". I have to tell you, that no matter where I have been published and regardless of where I might be published in the future, I can think of few remarks that could make me feel as grateful as I did in that moment. It was a deep sense of gratitude and what a keen reminder of a Higher Power, who made the culmination of that moment and that remark remotely possible.
If you think about it, that really is "Go tell it on the mountain" stuff. For now though, given the absence of mountains, I'll just blog about it.
This will be a very fast update, with details to follow later in the week. Things have been hopping since my last update. Some events have been wonderful, but one in particular was very sad.
We had to say goodbye to our beloved cat Sylvester. He was nearly 17 years old and was in a great deal of pain. On 7 June, Justin bravely took him to the vet and he was put to rest. We all said good bye and I know, I know, it's a cat we're talking about, but Sylvester wasn't just any cat. To know Sylvester was to love him. We knew him and we adored everything about him.
It still seems so odd not seeing him around here, but he's not suffering now. Sylvester was our first cat, and joined us when he "chose" Katie as she and I visited a pet shop in El Paso, Texas. He was a gentle, smart, social and very kind feline. He convinced me that I wasn't simply a "dog" person, as I had erroneously and originally thought prior to meeting him. I was so sure I didn't like cats at all, but Sylvester enlightened me and gently taught me otherwise. Sylvester, in his own characteristically understated manner, changed my life. I loved him. We all did. With every soft purr, kneading motion of his paws and slow caresses on our ankles as he'd make contact with us, we knew he loved us right back. Gosh, I miss him that cat.
I need to send out a special thank you to three people with regard to Sylvester. Katie, thank you so much for talking me into adopting him back in Texas. You and Sylvester were so right - I was a cat person and he was destined to become part of our family. I know you loved him and he enjoyed watching you grow up, as the rest of us have. You were such a kind and faithful companion to him. I know you maintained such a special place in his heart.
I also must mention Stephanie. Steph, thank you so very much for tending to him in his final months. You were kind, compassionate and so sensitive to his physical and emotional needs and pain. You went far beyond the call of duty and I know he loved you for it. I know it was especially hard for you and I understand you had a very strong bond with him. Your care allowed him some extra pain-free months and you should be proud of that. We're very grateful to you and pleased that you are part of our family. You know, Steph, we miss you, too. You can come around and visit even when your boyfriend is at work or busy. This is still your home, too, kiddo.
And finally but by no means last, a special thanks to my Dad, who is the keeper of the litterbox. What a thankless job, but you sure are dependable! Thank you for all of your housekeeping duties. Also, thanks for taking extra care with Felix during this transition. I know he's become quite attached to you. Princess may have lost her husband, but Felix lost his best friend, and he's trying to deal with that so I know he loves every extra minute he spends on your lap while you work on the computer. I think you have a new best friend! Felix has great taste, obviously.
After the passing of Sylvester, Justin returned to the house and took Princess to live with him at his place. He felt that she should be with him, now that her husband was gone. Sylvester and Princess were adopted six weeks apart, so their bond was deep and intertwined. I'm sure Princess is enjoying living with her "father", and I know Justin and Stephanie are taking great care of her. And yes, Princess will be moving to Charleston, WV late next month when Justin joins his Dad in his new business venture.
Two weeks ago I received a call to interview for a new position in a completely different industry. I went to the first interview and met three very nice men who took turns asking me a lot of questions as they perused my resume. Later that evening, they invited me to a second interview the next morning. Fortunately, that went pretty well, too, and within two hours, my new employer rang my cell phone and offered me the position. I officially start on 1 July and I'm looking forward to it. I will be heading to Greenville, South Carolina on 30 June for three days of training, as this is where the company is headquartered. I'll return to Wilmington on 3 July, which will be a very special day because it will be my parents 62nd wedding anniversary. There is just so very much to celebrate and I'm grateful for all of it!
Of course, as excited and thrilled as I am with my new position in a few days, it will be difficult leaving my present one. I have enjoyed working with Sherry so very much. We have had so much fun most days that it hardly qualified as work. Sherry has taught me a great deal and spending my days with her has been a very special time for me. We can nearly finish each others sentences and not a day goes by that doesn't find us laughing about all manner of occurrences in our work days. Though I will no longer be working with her, we have made a serious pact to stay in touch on a daily basis and she has promised to keep me informed as to the more curious things that happen at work. Besides, she won't be completely rid of me. I have agreed to continue to install the SCRAM (Secure Continuous Remote Alcohol Monitor) ankle bracelets and will see clients and do installations on Saturdays. I find it hard to make a complete break because I enjoy working with our clients. Anyway, working with Sherry one day a week will make it easier for us to keep a weekly lunch date and really catch up with each other.
Finally, I am happy to report that the swimming pool repairs have been made and it is holding water well! It's being chemically shocked right now, but the major repair has been completed and I can't wait to take my first dip in it which will hopefully be later this week. It's SUMMER - and that means flips in the pool! I will be so excited to literally be "back in the swim" of things. Hey, it's skinny-dipping season!
By the way, I was given a brand-spanking new copy of the "hot off the presses" latest edition of "Insider's Guide - North Carolina's Southern Coast and Wilmington" by its esteemed publisher (and all around nice person), Jay Tervo. If you haven't acquired one yet, treat yourself to a copy. It's beautifully turned out and brimming with information, tips and facts for both tourists and even locals will learn a thing or three about the town we are privileged to call "home".
It's so strange to be writing these days. I've had scant time to really pen much of anything though my mind has been swirling with a million details, observances, thoughts and feelings. Lately, it seems like with so much going on, I find I'm keeping more and more things to myself. So many huge changes are taking place in my life right now - in all of our lives, in fact. My son is preparing to move to West Virginia at the end of July. My daughter has been happily ensconced in Manhattan for over two years. We're now two cats short and this house seems to be growing in size and echoing in silence. Not too many years ago, there was always noise, music, chatter, comings and goings of my son and daughter and their posse of friends. I remember summers filled with the sounds of my son and his buddies on their skateboards in the driveway. I'd peer out the window every ten minutes or so, wondering if I might need to make a quick run to the emergency room because someone didn't land properly as they surfed on the concrete. It's just so quiet now.
It's almost too quiet. The air is stilled as we slowly grope our way through new transitions, the ones where teenagers are now twenty-somethings who grow up and move into new adventures which predictably take them far from this house, but never, ever far from our thoughts, prayers and hearts. I guess on an intellectual level, you always know the time will come when they grow up and become admirably independent, and I am absolutely proud that they have. I'm also grateful for so many lively memories from raising these two offspring of mine, but lurking just beneath my pride and awe, is a lingering whisper of a wish that I could do it all again and again and again. These transitions take some acclimatization, I suppose, and the key feature to any acclimatization is the passage of time. I'm sure we'll get our sea legs soon, but some evenings, I miss Katie and Justin so much that it literally defies description and words are rendered useless; literally inadequate. Maybe that's why I find it so hard to write lately. The translation of the depth and sheer force of these feelings into mere words is difficult.
I guess growing up gets tougher with age. Separation anxiety can strike without warning. Thank goodness for e-mail and cell phones and particularly unlimited mobile-to-mobile minutes.
I'm still keeping a keen eye out for a sailor - if you see one with a nice boat who's in the market for a crazy, wild-haired, adventurous first mate, send him my way. But only if he's nearly perfect, great looking, sane, financially secure, interesting, brilliant, youthful and skilled. I don't think I'm really asking for too much...just something reasonably close to almost perfect.
Karen...Bobbi...I hate to put pressure on you both, but we're in late June now. What's the hold up, ladies? Shouldn't you both have "e-maled" me some prospective resumes by now? No rush...just hurry!
"Sick as a dog, but having the time of my life!" Gomer Pyle - "The Andy Griffith Show".
I guess going out on a date with two younger, crazy men was too much for me. The morning after I had dinner with David and Chris, I woke up feeling like I had a tennis ball stuck in my throat. Fortunately, that didn't preclude me from having breakfast with my wonderful friend Sally, or going to work for a few hours, but by Saturday Night last week, I was clearly, without question, in the throes of bronchitis.
So how did I spend my Memorial Day Weekend, the unofficial start of summer? In bed, feverish, drinking tea, coughing and sneezing my head off. Not how I imagined, that's for sure.
Sunday Afternoon, feeling extremely sorry for myself, alone and having only my trusty dog Cassie by my side, I was laying in bed when in dropped my friend David with all manner of meds, a gallon of tea from Smithfield's, and the time to keep my mind off how horrible I felt. He even inducted me into the Blackberry Pearl fellowship by programming my phone and teaching me all of the fun things it can do. He was great company and made a very nice nurse even though I think he told me to quit complaining and "check this out!", as he would enlighten me to cool features of the Blackberry.
When he got bored with my sneezing and coughing, he would go back downstairs and visit with my parents, who made him a banana-split and were probably relieved that they didn't have to deal with me. Every now and then one of them would venture upstairs to see if I needed anything, not that I think any of them had any designs on bringing me more coffee or soup, but it did make me feel less alone and fortunately the movie line-up on TCM (Turner Classic Movies), was to my liking.
Also on Sunday Afternoon, my friend Wayne dropped by bearing a pot of daisies, soup, a beautiful wicker basket, a card and, best of all, the latest "hot off the presses!" issue of "Cruising World" magazine so I could salivate over sailboats I'll never be able to buy. Hey, it's good to hold onto your dreams, right?
Monday Afternoon, it was more of the same. David dropped by to check on me but was mostly interested in visiting with my parents, but when he did hang out with me, he fired up the laptop and as I was struggling to breathe, he was looking for property in Oriental. He saved about eight possibilities and now and then he would get excited and say, "Look at this one! It has a dock!", and then he'd go right on creating an organized spreadsheet of his real estate possibilities while I watched Claudette Colbert and Joseph Cotton in "Since You Went Away".
Other friends called and checked on me, thinking I would be seaside, but the only water I got close to was the shower which I would run as hot as the water would go, because that was the only thing that allowed me to breathe easy for a few minutes. David wound up his visit by driving to Smithfield's on a chicken wing run (for me), but he chose to dine with my parents downstairs at the table because my Mom was serving spaghetti. From the sounds of it, they all had a very nice dinner. I ate alone upstairs in bed but Cassie was kind enough to stay with me. A good dog is hard to find and loyalty, particularly in times of need, is a precious gift, indeed.
I stayed in bed most of Tuesday and didn't go to work, but work came to me in the form of a visit from Sherry Tuesday Evening. She brought dinner over and hung out with me upstairs and we watched a couple of episodes of "The Andy Griffith Show" and caught up with each other. As she was getting ready to leave, Justin appeared with a homemade casserole and I was so happy to see him! He took her place on my bed and we chatted, well, he chatted and mostly coughed. This house still feels so empty without him and yet it struck me just how grown up he is. My son made something for me to eat at his place, and brought it to me. What a sweet guy he is. His company helped me immeasurably.
Wednesday I did make it into work in the late morning, but before starting work, Sherry and I met at La Costa for lunch before going to the office. She wanted to "ease" me back into "pre-audit work mode". She's nice like that. I wish I could have tasted the guacamole and refried beans and rice, but I could smell the cilantro, so that was definitely an improvement. My health almost took a nose-dive on Thursday, as I read about Karen's weekend in Canada and turned an unattractive shade of "envy green", but she wrote me a nice note which took the edge off and returned me to my normal color. It was a good save and I was happy she had such a nice time during HER holiday weekend. She is still on the look-out for a seaworthy boat (and a guy to go along with it), for me, but progress is slow and I understand these things take time. I'm trying to be patient KAREN!!!!
Friday Morning, I had the experience of installing my first SCRAM ankle bracelet. I was trained and certified to do this back in March, and March was a long time ago, so I was a bit nervous but fortunately I had the kindest, sweetest, most patient client for my first experience and really, it went quite well. He had a great attitude about the whole thing and was eager to take this next step in illustrating to the NC DMV his commitment to staying sober, so his positive attitude and cooperation made him an ideal candidate to allow me to test my technical skills and fortunately, we were successful!
Sherry and I are both working like maniacs getting ready for our 12 June audit and we are so ready for this to be over! We're going to celebrate in some form or fashion after it's finished, we just haven't figured out how yet.
My friend David (in Michigan) tells me he's going to put together a sailing program for us and I can't wait to hear the details on that. I'm ready to be on the water, in spite of the fact that one year ago today, I was spent twelve nerve-racking hours sailing in Tropical Storm Barry with a lunatic captain and a boat that felt like it was going to break apart with the next wave. I look back on that now and I can't believe we were able to crawl into shore in one piece, but thanks be to God we did and it was nothing short of a miracle. I'm also grateful that it didn't diminish my passion for sailing, even though I emerged bruised and more than a little battered. I can't wait to get back on the water on a viable boat with a knowledgeable captain who doesn't have a death wish and understands the importance of safety and weather forecasts.
I have relived the memories of one year ago today, but not in a dark way. I realized that tropical storm notwithstanding, I discovered a passion on that erstwhile sail. In hindsight, it probably wasn't the wisest thing to take off sailing in international waters with someone I knew so little about, but for me, that trip was less about the person and more about the water. The water, from the second I was invited on that trip, was the magnet for me. I wanted to finally know about sailing and though I wasn't really bargaining on a sail in such dangerous and dire conditions, I learned a great deal in those ten days. It has fueled a thousand dreams and if I'm lucky, it will be the catalyst of a few thousand more.
One of the interesting things about feeling unwell, even if it's just being laid up in bed for a few days with a bout of bronchitis, is that it reminded me of how much I missed feeling fine. Most of the time I feel great and like most of us, I take that for granted. The string of days, weeks and months when my health doesn't dip below the barometer, I just whiz through my days taking so much for granted. Only when I became congested, had a little difficulty breathing or smelling the coffee I enjoy every morning, did I think about how exceptional it is that most days I can do just about anything. Great health should never be taken for granted. You can't buy, barter or trade it. It is, in fact, a blessing and one I want to try really hard not to forget about or allow to go unnoticed. I need to thank God even before I pop out of bed each morning, that I appreciate the fact that I am waking up pain free and clear-headed.
A few weeks ago I bought a book - "The Last Lecture" by Randy Pausch, a former Carnegie-Mellon professor who was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer over a year ago. Groping around for something to read, I remember that book and in less than two days, I finished it. I highly recommend it. It's an amazing book and it's filled with lessons, reminders of what is important in this life.
This afternoon, as I perused Dr. Pausch's website for an update, I saw that he had participated in the commencement address this weekend at Carnegie-Mellon. If you have a couple of minutes, I highly recommend watching this. If you find yourself in or near a bookstore, do yourself a favor and read "The Last Lecture". It isn't at all sad or maudlin. It's inspiring, funny and laced with a gentle, exquisite poignancy. It is also a challenge. Perhaps it is true that we need to recapture those childhood dreams of ours, dust them off and look into using them as a foundation for new adventures, regardless of our present age.
All in all, it has been a pretty good week, bronchitis notwithstanding. I am grateful to God, my family, my ever-present and crazy friends and yes, I am also grateful for my faithful dog Cassie and her kind company when I took to my bed. It is practically summer, my favorite time of year, and there are all manner of reasons to celebrate. Life is exceptionally sweet and I am uncompromisingly grateful.
And yes, I really am becoming quite addicted to my Blackberry. If you're in the market for a way cool phone that can do practically everything but make tea, you should absolutely check it out. Before long, you'll wonder how you ever got along without it.
Oh, and a loyal dog. You really need a loyal dog - maybe more than you need a Blackberry Pearl. Cassie is over ten years old, but she still retains her sense of mischief, silliness and fun. Those qualities are incredibly attractive whether you're a dog, a cat and I know I'm drawn to people who have a natural exuberance, a feisty, fun and adventurous nature. The world seems populated with grown-ups who act way too grown-up. Maybe we all just need to kick back and get in touch with our inner puppy more often. Cassie reminds me of that often. Here's to jumping into the ocean, regardless of what you're wearing.
OK, so the air conditioning in the house decided to go on the blink (on a Friday Night, of course, long after the service people had gone home). Naturally, it was like 100 degrees here yesterday.
The swimming pool would be a nice diversion, if it didn't look like a swamp or bad science experiment. It hasn't been confirmed, of course, but there may be alligators in there. We just don't know and no one is courageous enough to get too close, least of all the two pool companies I've called to check it out. They swear they'll be here on a certain day and they don't show up. What is it with pool techs?
The ABS light came on in my car and won't shut off. So now I have a rear driver's side window that refuses to go up and down, and an ABS light that tells me I probably don't have any traction. This makes Katie very nervous to ride with me but I just tell her to be quiet and get over it. My gosh, she lives in Manhattan and riding in a car that may or may not have traction should be a piece of cake, right?
My son moved into his new apartment last Wednesday. I started steaming the carpet of his old room on Friday Night. I am still, as of this writing, steaming the carpet in a quest for the water to go from black to a nice muddy color and hopefully, someday, clear, which will signal for me that I got all of the dirt out of it. Hope springs eternal.
We're under a severe thunderstorm advisory. We're excited because the rain we received overnight cooled the house down to a bearable 80 degrees. Though it still feels like a sauna, it's trending in the right direction. And do you know what all of the above issues are? Luxury problems. I was in a bit of a snit last night, feeling as if everything was breaking down and dysfunctional, but my Dad came over to me and patted me on the head and said, "Suz, it can all be fixed. It will be fine. Look at the sunny side.".
My Dad is right. My Dad is almost always right. Compared to so many people facing real challenges, mine don't amount to a tiny hill of beans. It is Mother's Day. I have my son and my daughter in the same town. We still have the gift of sharing my parents company, wit and wisdom. Katie and I had a lovely visit with Justin in his sparkling, well-appointed, tastefully decorated apartment yesterday afternoon. We had tea. We were all laughing and together and enjoying soaking up each other's company.
This morning Katie and I burst into my Mom's room and wished her "HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!!!!!". My Mom smiled her beautiful smile. We laughed, we talked, and then we laughed some more. Oh my goodness we are just so very blessed.
Today is Mother's Day. It is warm, humid, stormy and my family is together. Machines break down, pools turn disturbing colors and sometimes carpet takes a lot of work to get clean. However, the most overriding feeling I am taking from this day is that I am blessed beyond measure and I am just filled with gratitude.
It's nearly impossible to go more than five minutes without a smile in this house. There's generally a cat engaged in doing something cute, a large blond dog napping on her back without a care in the world. The fish are swimming in all five aquariums that are running. Nice words are spoken, memories are relived, iced tea is flowing and blessings spring forth.
I may be too warm, longing for a nice cool swim, and sometimes I wonder why my ABS light won't go off in my car but I know one thing for certain. I feel like the luckiest Mother on the planet. Life is good and I love my family. Thanks be to God. Oh, and Happy Mother's Day!
Spring is in full bloom here on the coast - and I couldn't be happier. We are gently sliding into my favorite of all seasons - hot, humid, bright, shiny SUMMER! Yeah, baby!
OK, so I love Tom Hanks. I thought this was a very respectable, no frills, well-done endorsement that nearly slid beneath the radar. North Carolina's Primary is this Tuesday, 6 May, and it will be interesting, to say the least, to see how the two democratic candidates fare in this southern state that I call home. I have my own preferences on how I would like to see things shake out and I am cautiously optimistic, but in this primary season that has proven to have more twists and turns than a mountain road in West Virginia, nothing is a sure thing. I'll be glued to MSNBC this Tuesday Evening and will probably be engaged in swapping text-messages with my daughter as she watches from her home on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. I'm sure we'll have more than our usual lunch-hour catch up call. I even have dinner decided for that night - I'm going to stop on my way home from work and order a mansion salad with blackened mahi-mahi and two servings of blue-cheese vinaigrette dressing to go. Of course, there will be coffee and probably a quart of jasmine iced tea to go along with it. Tuesday is already shaping up to be a real nail-biter.
But back to news closer to home...
On Wednesday, my son moves into his first apartment. I already miss him but, let's be realistic, it's only two miles away so hopefully it won't be TOO traumatic for me. As for Justin, he's way past excited.
We had a nice lunch today at Henry's and during the course of our meal, I acquiesced the love seat which currently sits in my office (at home) in exchange for his agreeing to take Sylvester and Princess with him to live in his new apartment. So not only will I be out of kids, but my cat population will be cut in half. I'll still have Magellan and Felix and, of course, my big, blond dog Cassie. And of course, with five aquariums, I'll have PLENTY of fish, however, Justin casually mentioned that an aquarium would make a nice housewarming gift. I think there was a hint in there somewhere.
On Friday, 9 May, I will drive to Fayetteville and collect my Manhattan-based daughter, KATIE! She's riding the rail (Amtrack) for a week-long visit. I have been put on notice not to arrive unless there is a LARGE, fresh sweet southern iced tea in the car. Since I don't like to live dangerously, the tea will be ready for her when she arrives. I just can't wait to see her! We're all excited!
How Katie can stand to be on a train for eight hours is beyond my comprehension. She loves "train people". She tells me they're a great group - all of them members of her "I hate flying" club. Nevermind that she could be in Wilmington, on a direct flight from La Guardia, in about an hour and thirty minutes and actually be sitting in our kitchen drinking FRESH iced tea in the time it takes that silly train to get from Penn Station to Philadelphia. I no longer even make a case for how the trip from the airport here in Wilmington is about fifteen minutes (even in Wilmington traffic!), and that the dull trip from Fayetteville to Wilmington is a whopping two hours of some of the dullest scenery I've ever been witness to. Factor in that Amtrack is rarely on time - she herself coined it quite colorfully, "A railroad of lies", due to it's inability to stay on schedule. That matters nothing to Miss Katie. As a card-carrying member of the "Infrequent Flyers Club", she only goes "wheels up" when there is no other alternative, as she will do later this summer when she and John fly to Paris for a week's vacation. But I guarantee you, if it were possible to ride a train through a tunnel beneath the Atlantic, Katie would be first in line for a ticket.
Of course, it doesn't really matter how she gets here or where I have to drive to collect her because, in the end, it's all about seeing Katie and having her in our midst for a glorious week. As I drive to Fayetteville Friday Afternoon, I will remind myself that the trip back to Wilmington will be far more interesting with her delightful and ascerbic company and I'm sure we'll sing to her iTunes, gossip, exchange news and views and, well, it doesn't get much better than that, so of course, I'll be right there in unlovely Fayetteville to meet her as she steps off that silly train and into my hug. Even with gas currently topping out at $3.60/gallon, she's more than worth a tank of liquid gold. You can bet everything you own that I'll be more than thrilled to be her chauffeur.
On Sunday, 11 May, Tim will be coming down and he will be able to see both kids at the same time in the same place! I guess it will be a family reunion of sorts. He will be staying at Justin's new apartment and Justin's excited to host his first house guest. I know both kids will enjoy catching up with their dad.
As for me, I have been working, working and WORKING and loving it. Sherry and I have been moving furniture, rearranging desks, hanging art and making the office feel more casual and down right beachy! Yes, it's still a drug and alcohol assessment office, but it feels more "fun" and while most of our clients are never happy to find themselves forced to consent to a clinical evaluation of their substance abuse, we really do try and make it as painless as possible. I'm lobbying for the addition of an aquarium to the waiting room. I think I'm wearing Sherry down (and plying her with chocolate) so it could happen.
I am happy to announce that I have health insurance! Thanks to Vicki, who patiently steered me toward the best choice, I can now afford to get sick and/or injured, but she advised against it. Even with health insurance, she felt it's still best never to have to make use of it and, quite frankly, I have to agree with her. But I do have to tell you, it's one less thing to worry about at night right before I fall asleep - wondering how I'm going to afford some looming catastrophic illness without health insurance. I'm so blessed that David C. steered me to Vicki. She's been so fun and wonderful to visit with during our many conversations, and several sets of phone tag, that not only did I find a trustworthy broker, but I made a new friend in the process. Not a bad deal at all!
In other medical news, my mother is still in the midst of testing, evaluations and attending various appointments to determine the best course of action for her degenerating spine but, in between all of that, she still has managed to keep fresh iced tea at the ready and there's always wonderful food in the kitchen. I guess it's true that you just can't keep a good woman down. My mother is not only a good woman, but a dynamo. I hope it's genetic.
My father has been busy working on the lawn and the yard looks like velvet. He replaced a couple of sprinkler heads, with the assist from our wonderful neighbor Tom, and so now the sprinklers are back in action and spraying in the right direction, at the right time. I also have a pool specialist trying to find the source of the leak in our pool so hopefully it won't be too long before that problem is taken care of and I'm so ready for a nice long swim.
No luck yet on finding a nice sailboat that comes equipped with a knowledgeable, handsome captain, but hey, it's early in the season. I'm keeping my eyes open and you never know when the right boat might come along. I remain optimistic.
So that's what's been going on in our neck of the woods. I wish I could tell you that I had found the perfect man and been on a string of dazzling dates, but the truth is, my life has consisted of working and tinkering with my aquariums. I haven't even managed to do any real writing in the past few weeks. I have, however, found time to enjoy some fun lunches with friends, make some great AA meetings recently, and I always love meeting our clients.
Actually, I feel so blessed. For the first time in something like FOREVER, even at the end of a long day, I come out feeling so amazed I get to work with a wonderful woman who teaches me something new every single day, and there is this deep sense of peace because I truly do believe that the work we do means something. It's a sense of satisfaction I've never really known before, but for as painful as it often is to have to confront diseases of addiction, miracles can, and do, happen. Seeds are planted.
The clients I see after attending 20 or 40 hours of treatment are often vastly changed from the downcast folks who arrive in our office for their substance abuse assessment and prepare to attend, generally with much trepidation, their first class. Smiles appear and people share during our group sessions of positive changes and they report to us some of the early gifts that living sober can and does deliver. For many of these people, it is essentially a life or death proposition. No one is hopeless. Miracles are possible and probable if we stay the course. Love is a powerful force and in some form or fashion, this is illustrated to me every single day. What a gift. What an abundant, priceless gift.
Hey Hillary - the regular people just called. Sorry hon, you didn't make the cut, but not for a lack of giving it a sporting, college try. But it's not all bad news - you're still a top contender for the Darwin Awards. Keep your chin up and keep chugging.
Hillary Clinton likes to play games. This past Saturday Night, she played the ever popular "I'm a 'regular person'" primary game, with a bunch of guys at a barin Indiana". She gave a vivid depiction of a desperate adult caving into peer pressure, not wanting to disappoint the folks gathered round her, chanting in unison, "Hillary! Hillary! Hillary", in typical "Animal House" style.
There was, of course, a positive in all this. Upon closer inspection of the photo, it appears Ms. Clinton is wearing an American Flag lapel pin, so now we know something more about her than we did prior to this alcathon: Even when she's engaged in frivolous festivities, hanging out with the regular guys, she's patriotic about it and I don't know about you, but I believe this is cause for all of us to sleep a little better at night.
Kind of makes you extra proud to be an American doesn't it? Indeed.
I found myself embarrassed for her, which is a far cry from being inspired. There is nothing to admire. There is also no excuse.
She really should know better. She had it all wrong. Most "regular people" don't behave as she did on any given Saturday Night. I bet with a little cajoling by the crowd, they could have easily enticed her into popping off her pantsuit, which might have earned her footage on the next series of "Girls Gone Wild" videos (or would it be "Old Women Gone Ornery", given the AARP affiliation?)
Thankfully, that didn't happen. However, I would wager that if an uncommitted superdelegate had teased her to go topless, that blazer would have been history faster than any of us could say, "I can't drink you pretty".
I fear for West Virginia and North Carolina when she "hits" those states. There are active "white lightning" stills in them thar mountains and goodness knows they love their guns...I can just picture her kicking back with moonshine and trading Bosnian war stories, sitting with the boys on the bank up some creek without a paddle.
Does anyone know where the fat lady lives? It's long past time for her aria.
Hillary, there is no inspiration to be found in your newly debuted barroom broad fantasy. You laid yourself out as a glowing example of a very cheap one. You must be so proud, you regular person you.
I mean, we just don't have enough high-profile politicians willing to take the time on a Saturday Night in order to show us "regular people" how to do shots and behave like an ass, do we? There's nothing like a public display of someone folding to peer pressure.
Watching Hillary Clinton casually knock back a shot of whiskey followed by a beer chaser only confirmed for me what I always knew to be true: this woman would do anything to elicit a vote. I found her barroom behavior offensive, inappropriate and wildly undignified.
Hey, Hillary Clinton does shots, so it must be OK, right? Is this her answer to "anti-elitism"? And also, who picked up the tab? According to your recently released tax returns, you could more than afford it, but you probably wouldn't want to offend any of your new "regular people" homies. Best not to flaunt too much of that pocket change.
Wrong. Horribly wrong. Unconscionable. Despicable. Sick. Unfit for print and too pathetic for publication.
Ms. Clinton was not engaging in social drinking - she cranked it up a notch, as only she can. Ms. Clinton was "social-binging". Way to go, Hillary. What a fine example you set for every young person unfortunate enough to have caught a glimpse of your Saturday Night antics when you bellied up to the bar.
Hillary has transformed herself from the subject of a "Saturday Night Live" skit, into a real-time, real-person joke. Only she's not very funny. Just mostly pathetic with an extra dollop of offensive for good measure.
I guess anything goes and quite frankly, I wish she would. Go. Like yesterday.
Just when I'm sure it's impossible to think less of this woman, she goes and does something that, quite literally in this case, lowers the bar. This time, she managed to do it IN the bar. I hope the phone in whatever room she spent Saturday Night recovering in didn't ring at 3:00 AM because I can't imagine her head was in a very clear place. As for Ms. Clinton possessing anything resembling a social conscience, I can only surmise it must have bolted long before she bellied up to that bar.
Hillary Clinton gives "regular people" a bad name.
I love puzzles. I love any kind of puzzle. I'm so weird I even love math word problems.
This means that my little family has TWO (count 'em two!) engaged couples - one wedding on the calendar (Justin and Stephanie - 21 June 2009) and the promise of another wedding (TBA).
This means that my little family has TWO (count 'em two!) engaged couples - one wedding on the calendar (Justin and Stephanie - 21 June 2009) and the promise of another wedding (TBA).
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