Tuesday, February 28, 2012

A Special Friendship



Twenty-three years ago I walked into a crowded elementary school cafeteria for a “Welcome 1st Grade Students” lecture given by the Principal of my daughter’s school.  Carefully, I steered the stroller, with my son sleeping soundly inside, down the middle row and took an aisle seat in case I had to make a speedy getaway.  I was fully prepared for my son to wake up during the speech, with a bag filled with Cheerios, a ‘binky’, and a ‘sippy’ cup filled with apple juice in my arsenal.

Principal Walsh began his speech.  Everyone in attendance was listening closely.  It was then that I noticed a mom in front of me holding, cuddling, and trying to keep her young daughter happy.  I felt a true kinship with this woman that I didn’t know and gently tapped her on the shoulder.  She turned and I whispered to her that my son was sleeping, but if her daughter would like some Cheerios, she was welcome to them.  A beautiful, broad smile spread across her face. She was thrilled to offer her daughter the cereal. 

Luckily for me, my son slept through the entire speech and luckily for the woman in front of me, the Cheerios kept her beautiful daughter happy throughout.  After the Principal’s talk was over, we walked outside together and introduced ourselves.  This wonderful woman, Robin, told me she had a daughter in Miss Brosso’s first grade class.  My daughter was in the same class and our daughters had the same name!  We spoke for a few minutes before my son woke up.  He was ready for his lunch, so Robin and I exchanged phone numbers and each of us went to our respective homes.

That phone number has been a special lifeline for me these past 23 years.  When we first became friends we shared many afternoon coffee chats while our younger children played in the next room.  We supported each other through arguments with our husbands, difficulties with school projects, finding summer programs, issues with other friends, and truly anything and everything in between.  We made up our own club, W.O. A. H., (Women of Annoying Husbands) when we were in our mid thirties.  Our husbands knew of this club and weren’t too fond of it, but they understood, especially when we told them they could have their own club, M. O. A. H. (Men of Annoying Housewives)

When we first met, Robin and I lived in different neighborhoods, but that didn’t keep us from getting together.  After a few years, my family found a house that happened to be in their neighborhood.  As our children grew, Robin and I only grew closer and more supportive.  Being in the same neighborhood, we would call each other whenever the need for a W.O.A.H. meeting arose.  We would each walk to the halfway point between our houses, meet each other, and then continue walking until whichever one of us called the meeting had unloaded our issue.  After we spoke, we always felt better and could return home with a smile, crisis averted. 

We planned our daughters’ Bat Mitzvahs together. We schlepped to photographers, DJs, and finished our dress shopping as a team.  We joined the same swim club in the summer and would share a table, laughing, chatting and enjoying our children (who always got along beautifully) and the warm,summer sunshine!  We cheered each other when new puppies were brought into the fold, and we cried together when two of them passed away. Every birthday, she would make me coffee and key lime pie and we would sit, laughing and talking, for hours.   

Our daughters went to the junior and senior proms with their respective dates together.  We took pictures and cried tears of disbelief that our little girls looked so grown-up – where had the years gone?  We worried, celebrated, laughed and cried together more times than I could ever count.

Robin was a pillar of strength for me and wouldn’t take no for answer when my nephew passed away and I needed someone to stay in the house and wait for the Shiva tray to be delivered. She made coffee, cleaned up and wouldn’t let me lift a finger.  She did the exact same thing when my Dad passed away two years ago.  In between those sad events, she listened to me as I expressed my fears and anxieties and she was always willing to stop by with a hug.  I can only hope I was half as attentive and generous with her as she was with me as the years have flown by.

Robin and I always understood each other and we always seemed to be going through the exact same things at the exact same time.  Now we are both dealing with the issues that surround being “empty nesters” and the issues of parents dealing with problems of aging and the various associated health complications.

Two weeks ago, Robin broke her foot.  Robin, who never was good at asking for help, now needs some assistance, no matter what she says.  She is so unaccustomed to asking for help, it’s just not easy for her, she is the one who always does the helping!  This morning, I brought over what turned out to be some rather lousy breakfast sandwiches, (my intentions were good) but her coffee, now made in her Kerig coffee maker, was still as wonderful as ever.  We talked and, as always, we found that after 23 years we still have simply everything in common.  It’s truly astounding.  However, now, on top of having shared life experiences, we have the amazing gift of decades of shared friendship, a friendship we can count on and trust to always be there. 

When I think back to that early Principal’s Welcome talk, I can’t help but feel my heart burst with gratitude.  Attending that talk, one that I honestly don’t remember one word spoken by the Principal, afforded me one of the most meaningful friendships anyone could ever have the honor of enjoying.  I am blessed with having a handful of women in my life, women without whom my life would be lacking a special joy.  I will eventually write a blog about each of them, Jackie, Hope, Jill, Susan, Diane, Linda, Lisa and my cousin, Ellen, but today, sharing coffee with Robin filled my heart with the happiness that is unique to us.

Tomorrow she goes to the doctor to see what the next step is with her broken foot, no pun intended.  I hope she doesn’t need surgery, but no matter what, I hope she knows that I will be there for her, a friend to lean on, for always.

Saturday, February 25, 2012

Yesterday Was My Birthday ~




Birthdays are odd things as you age.  I remember celebrating my birthday when I was young; every year was a badge of honor, a step toward being “grown-up”.  Every birthday included a big party with friends, balloons, cupcakes, and games.  It was truly a special event where the birthday girl or boy was the star for the day. 


Yesterday I turned 54 years old.  Fifty-four!!  My husband and I both took the day off from work and with my daughter and my mother we went for lunch at one of my favorite restaurants.  This Mexican restaurant has interesting, fun food, a festive colorful atmosphere, extremely nice, accommodating waiters, and it’s reasonably priced!  A winner!  

The rest of the day was fine, very nice in fact.  I received a heart-warming amount of birthday wishes on Facebook, my son called to wish me a Happy Birthday and told me he had enjoyed a successful day in his lab.  My daughter made it safely to see her boyfriend in New York after we shared the day together.  All in all it was a very nice day, but it got me thinking, and that’s always dangerous! 

When I think back to those early birthdays, I remember dreaming of what life would be like as a grown-up.  I remember thinking how great it would be to not have to go to school, to not have a bedtime, to wear high heels, to be sophisticated like the women in the movies.  Looking back, things were so simple.  There were only three real television channels to choose from, nothing could be taped, movies needed to be seen in a theater, telephones were attached to the wall and computers were science fiction stuff with blinking lights and tapes spinning round and round.  Cars had white-wall tires and landau roofs, the news was on for 15 minutes and it was just news, not commentary, and a baked potato took an hour to cook.  Popcorn didn’t come in microwavable bags, but jiffy pop was sure fun to watch cook as the bag expanded and the popcorn was ready to eat.

Those days are long gone, as are the days when my birthday garnered huge celebrations.  I suppose that’s good news.  The next time a birthday will be a big deal will be when old age (hopefully) sets in and everyone is amazed that a particular year has been hit!   But, having a birthday is still a milestone.  It still causes me to reflect on how life changes.  They say the one constant in life is change, and that certainly is true.

My husband and I are entering into the “empty-nester” time of our lives.  Being Mom was always the major, most important part of my life.  From the moment my children entered the world, they were and are the center of my universe.  They are still a most important, vital part of my life, but, as it should be, they are now their own people with their own lives and it is up to me to move to the side…still there, but now following their lead. 

It is kind of an odd time to be without a full time job.  I find that since the day I was laid off, I have so much more time to think and try to focus my time on building a new life, a life that focuses on my interests which I can now pursue whole-heartedly.  I write because I love to write, I work retail because I love being with people, need to get out of the house, and can’t find an office job.  All of these things contribute to my time of change.  


Our house now feels very big and empty, so we are thinking of downsizing.  But where should we go?  How will my Mom adjust?  What will we do with all our stuff?   Thirty-two years of marriage means a lot of accumulated odds and ends, some crap, some valuable, some just plain sentimental!  What do we clean out, give away, sell, and keep?  With every appliance in the house breaking the last few weeks, it’s as if the house is telling us it’s time to leave.  This house, which I have lived in longer than any other one place, is home.  This house is where my children grew up, where we have so many memories of summers in the pool, where our dog, Pumpkin, played and then, when she passed away, where we brought our little dog, Popcorn, home. 

This is the house where my children went from needing me all the time, to being self-sufficient.  It’s where my parents moved in when my Dad was facing open-heart surgery for the first time and thought he wouldn’t make it through and it’s where my Dad died two years ago.  We’ve celebrated graduations, birthdays, anniversaries, and enjoyed snowstorms when schools were closed and we baked all day.  It’s where we would burn candles when the lights went out and where we huddled together under throw blankets and watched movies.

This house has held so many wonderful family events, so many celebrations with friends, so many Halloweens, Valentine’s Days, religious celebrations, and New Year’s parties.  How do I say goodbye to all these things? 

My birthday was yesterday.  It came and went like every other day, heading to the future.  I understand that all we have is the now and that’s why it’s called the present, and it is a great gift.  So, I guess the trick to birthdays when you’re older is to take the memories of the little girl, mix them with the memories of the young mom, add a bit of the working woman, then putting it all into the blender and seeing what ingredients are still to be added.

I hope the future holds enough spice to be interesting, enough sugar to be sweet and a proper balance of everything so each bite can be savored.

My personal recipe for a happy birthday is to be thankful for all the ingredients in my life, for when all is said and done, each ingredient on its own yearns for more, but when put together in the right measure, they make for one amazingly delicious, fulfilling, nourishing experience. 

I want to thank all those in my life who are so integral to my world.  You add life to each day and your love and support is the key, which unlocks my potential.  My life may be at least half over, but I am eager to see where the next half leads. I hope that when I look back after the luck of a few more birthdays I find that I have continued to grow into a stronger, more confident, helpful, giving addition to this world which has given me so much!

Every day is a birthday of sorts, so celebrate life with all its beauty and love and always cherish those you hold most dear!


Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Two Years Ago Today



Two years ago today my Dad left this world. 

My Dad taught me so much.  He was not only a proud, strong man but also a kind-hearted, generous, considerate man.  His warmth and good humor were always something to count on.  I always felt protected and supported when my Dad was here.  He gave with his whole heart all the time.

Last night I woke up at 2:30 AM.  I starred at the clock and realized it was almost exactly 2 years from that hour since he died.  I could have sworn I saw him out of the corner of my eye, but when I looked again there was nothing there out of the ordinary. Some shadows from a pile of books reflecting the light of the night light, that’s all. 

Whenever I need or want to, I can imagine the feel of my Dad putting his arms around me, telling me everything will be okay.  I remember his face when he taught me to dance – he had such great rhythm and a special ‘dancing’ smile.  I remember watching the movie, Brian’s Song, with him.  We both sat on the floor in the den, wiping our eyes with tissues, talking about life, its joys and sorrows. 

I remember when he went in for his first open-heart surgery.  We all ran to the hospital to be sure to see him so very early in the morning.  As we walked, following along with his gurney to the elevator, I remember telling him I loved him.  I remember him looking at me and saying, “I love you.  You’ll always be my little girl”.  I kept those words close to my heart during the operation and still carry them with me today. 

I remember my Dad sneaking into the birthing room on the day my daughter was born.  He told the doctor he had something important to tell me.  He was right.  He told me he loved me.

I remember my Dad helping me when my son was born.  He would come over as he had just closed his store, and he would babysit so I didn’t have to wake my son to go pick my daughter up at school.

My Dad was the one to run around to every drug store in the area on the night before my wedding searching for something that would help rid me of a fever blister that appeared on my lip.  My Dad was the one who made a model of North Dakota with me for a school project.  He molded it, drew the rivers on it, and even stuck a tiny plastic deer to it to make it look more ‘real’. 

My Dad would sing Frank Sinatra songs loud and strong on Sunday mornings while he got dressed.  On our way home from my son’s apartment on Sunday, I turned, by accident, to the Frank Sinatra XM channel and heard, “My Way”.  The tears trickled down my cheek.  I tried to sing along, but my voice left me. 

After his Sinatra melodies, my Dad would go downstairs and make eggs for our Sunday morning breakfast.  He made the best eggs, rarely broke a yoke when making them sunny side up.  The eggs were like my Dad ~ always keeping his sunny side up.

These memories are just a few of the thousands that are popping in my mind.  There are so many examples I could give of the wonderful man my Dad was every single day.  The thoughtful surprises, his generosity, his love.  Whether good times or sorrowful times, my Dad’s love and support were a constant in my life.  He may not be here physically, but I have to say I feel his love and support with me every second.

Two years ago today the world lost a wonderful man, my Mom lost a thoughtful, loving husband my children and nieces and nephews lost what every child should have as a Pop Pop and my brothers and I lost an amazing, brave, strong, loving Dad.  Two years ago today he ceased being an ill elderly man and returned to being a strong, vibrant, funny, loving man, a man I will miss every day for the rest of my life.

I love you Dad ~ always and forever.  

Monday, February 20, 2012

Out of the Blue




Last Friday night my husband and I went out for a quiet dinner, did a little food shopping then came home to pack up for the drive to visit our son for the weekend.  We were planning to leave very early the next morning.  It had been six weeks since we saw our son and his girlfriend and we were looking forward to making maximum use of our time together.  So, with bags packed, we turned off the light and just as we were about to close our eyes a huge BANG echoed through the house!


My husband and I both jumped out of bed and looked out the window.  It was so dark it was difficult to see. There are few street lights on our normally quiet suburban street except for the light at the end of our driveway and a weirdly blinking light that was apparently coming from a car we realized had just smashed into the rear of my Mother’s parked car.  Crap!!

My husband threw clothes on and ran outside while I called 911.  Luckily, my husband was relatively calm (on the outside) and walked up to the youngish man sitting in his smashed car.  He asked the man if he was all right.  The man said he was.  My husband then asked him if he realized he just hit a parked car.  The man got out of the car and began nervously pacing back and forth.  Anxiously, I kept looking down the street waiting to see a police car pull up, nothing.

We were afraid the man would either hit my husband and leave the scene or just leave the scene.  Thankfully, he did neither. With a slightly slurred, distracted voice, he told us this was “the worst day of his life”.  His girlfriend had broken up with him earlier and he had just left his parents’ house.  With that, he must have thought of his parents, so he took out his cell phone and we heard him trying to calm his mother down, saying, “stop over-reacting, Mom…it’s just a little fender bender”. 

The man could not find either his driver’s license or his insurance card.  My husband kept repeating that he should just be calm and that the police would be there soon to help.  After what seemed like an eternity, but it was actually only 7 to 10 minutes, a policeman drove up.

The young policeman was extremely polite and I thought very calming in the situation.  By this time it was only about 11 PM, not that late for a Friday night; I was surprised that not one neighbor turned a light on, looked outside, nothing. Anyway, back to the situation at hand.  The policeman asked the obviously distraught man to move aside so he could look in the car.  That was when the man told the officer that he had a gun in the front seat!  A GUN!!  Not only did he have a gun in the car, the gun was LOADED!  My husband and I looked at each other with the same thought silently screaming out.  We were completely freaked out.

So, here we were, outside our house with my Mom’s car hit, the guy’s Ford demolished, radiator fluid completely spilled out on the street, and a policeman emptying the bullets from a loaded GUN – a gun that he could very easily have used on us.  The guy was obviously on something, something that luckily made him more docile than angry.  This quiet Friday evening was now anything but.  We were thankful that my Mom had already gone to my brother’s for the weekend since we were going away and she didn’t wish to stay home alone.  She didn’t need to deal with this.

The police performed a sobriety test on the man who they told us had a prior DUI conviction.  He could sort of walk toe to heel, lost his balance a few times while mumbling that he had “knee problems”.  The gun was registered, but having it loaded in the car was against the law.  The guy never did produce his driver’s license or insurance and registration, but he did know his driver’s license number by heart.  (Who knows this?)

The police told us the man’s blood alcohol level was such that he was not drunk, even though it was clear he was “on something” besides the fact that he probably had consumed a beer or so.  The man’s parents then drove up.  They live in the neighborhood across the street; the man lived in a neighborhood about 25 minutes away.  OUR neighborhood was not on the man’s way home and the police asked him why he was even in our neighborhood to begin with…he said he was just “taking a drive to think”.

The policeman gave us his name, not the name of the man who hit the car, and a reference number to the police report.  That’s all the information we received.  The police told the man to start his car and see if it was drivable.  The car would not start.  The policeman got in the car to see what he could do and noticed the car was in reverse, so obviously the man WAS trying to leave the scene of the accident before we came out of the house.

Nothing happened to the man with the prior DUI, who was obviously high and carrying a loaded gun while driving and crashing into a parked car, then trying to get away.  Nothing.  He went home with his parents while a tow truck came to take his car away. 

I walked back in the house and I thought maybe it was, for the young man, lucky that he smacked into my Mom’s car, that maybe he was driving somewhere to kill himself…who knows?

The police never asked if there was a reason the gun was loaded.  The policeman told us we were being hyper sensitive about the gun because we weren’t “gun people”.  We are not gun people and maybe we were hyper sensitive, but maybe the guy would have shot us in order to leave the scene…would we still be hypersensitive, while dead?

It was only when we told the story to my son that he brought up an interesting point, no one had asked the guy where his now ex-girlfriend lived!  Maybe she lived in our neighborhood, a neighborhood the man had no compelling interest to be in.  Maybe he was on his way to her house to shoot her?!  That question will never be asked and she will probably never even know he was there.

I was a bit disappointed that the police did nothing to the man, no ticket, nothing.  I hate to say it, but I have to wonder if the police would have acted the same had the young man been African American or wearing Muslim garb.  I bet they would have hauled him into the police station and at least given him a ticket for reckless driving and perhaps a citation for carrying a loaded gun.  Who knows?  Obviously I can never be sure and maybe the police would have acted exactly the same way.  I doubt it.

I am so grateful no one was hurt and hope that I am never that close to a loaded gun again.

My husband and I finally feel asleep and thankfully enjoyed a beautiful weekend with my son and his girlfriend.  This whole experience showed me, once again, that life could change on a dime.  Be thankful and enjoy when things are normal.

Have a great day!



Tuesday, February 14, 2012

For Valentine's Day ~ And Every Day!




Today is Valentine’s Day…. how’s that for an emotion grabbing first line?  Not so hot you say?  Well, you’re absolutely right and I would rework it except it is Valentine’s Day ~ and, I wish you all a lovely day!

You see, I’m reading a book right now that is truly inspiring.  The book, “Conversations with G-d”, is one my nephew, Scott, told me about years ago.  Scott found a lot of inspiration in this book and even after he passed, for whatever reason, I didn’t take the time to read it.  But, two weeks ago, my daughter and I were in the library just looking around and I turned to find the book staring me in the face!  It was calling me.  Someone before me left the book standing on its end on top of the shelf, pages tantalizingly open.  My reading glasses were in my purse, but miraculously, I didn’t need them.  The book was in large print!  I could not dismiss the sign.  I had to take the book out.

Since that day I’ve been reading the book, slowly, as there is so much to digest.   After each few pages I have to just sit back and let the information sink into my thoughts.  So much of what is written is so true and powerful.  I highly recommend the book to anyone interested; I think everyone of us could gain by reading it in its entirety.

One of the main ideas the book puts forward is that there are really only two emotions in the world, fear and love.  This really struck a chord with me.  I look around the world and see so much violence and nastiness and it springs from fear!  Fear of people different from us, fear of “what if”, fears of the unknown, these fears have grabbed so many hearts!  

When motivated to do something or say something, I’m now trying to think first about the origin of the thought and the impact it might have.  Is my thought coming from a place of fear or of love?  If out of fear, probably not much positive will come of it, unless of course I’m being chased by a gorilla…. but that truly isn’t a usual, daily occurrence.

Actions that spring from love are more apt to result in goodness, either to the one doing the acting or the person or persons receiving the results of the action or both.  If we all act from love, wouldn’t love and goodness be the common experience we would all enjoy on a daily basis?  Isn’t that what life is really all about?

I have a lot more to read in this wonderful book, and I highly recommend you pick up a copy – in large print if necessary.  My nephew, Scott, was a brilliant person.  His light and love are obviously still shining.

Have a wonderful Valentine’s Day.  As the Beatles proudly sang, “Love is ALL you need”!  Truer words were never spoken.


Saturday, February 11, 2012

Appreciation and Respect Make All the Difference



Valentine’s Day is around the corner.  Working in a retail store that caters to children, Valentine’s Day is more about conversation hearts, stuffed animals and cards for giving to an entire class than about gifts for your significant other.  We do carry a nice line of greeting cards, but other than that, if you want a gift for your sweetheart, I would suggest going elsewhere…

No matter what you're shopping for, or doing for that matter, attitude is so important.  A pleasant attitude makes such a difference to not only the parents, but also the children, who find they have necessary shopping on their agenda.  

I worked a lot of hours this week.  From the moment I opened the store to the time I left for the evening, the store has been full of parents and grandparents coming in with their children or grandchildren and shopping for Valentine’s Day.  Some with smiles, some with growls…. the choice is theirs; the impact of their choice affects all those around them.

Two days ago a harried Mom stomped into the store. She ignored the people waiting in line to purchase their items, and barked questions at me.  “Where are your Valentine cards”?  “Do you have gift bags”?  “Where is the candy”?  The snarl on her face was set, her eyes not even seeing the entire Valentine selection that greeted her entrance to the store, an entrance that was bright with pink and red hearts.  She briskly walked right by everything without looking or seeing what was staring her the face.  

The gentleman that was paying for his purchase at the time glanced over at the woman.  I could see his visceral reaction.  Without missing a beat, I simply responded to the woman’s questions, pointing out the rows of boxed cards and the displays of heart-shaped lollipops, etc.  Without a thank you, she disappeared into the Valentine display, her designer purse flailing behind her and her son following as quickly as he could, head down.

After everyone waiting to pay was taken care of, I walked to the woman with the snarl.  Her son was pacing back and forth picking up one item, moving it to another section, picking up something else, not saying a word or having a word spoken to him.  The air between them was thick.  I felt sad feeling this.  If only this woman would recognize how fleeting this time is – if she would only take one small step back and look at her son, take his feelings into account, and realize he wouldn’t be her “little boy” forever.  I asked her if I could help her find anything special.  She didn’t look at me while she responded that she had to find cards for her son to give to his class and for her older daughter to give to her class.  She didn’t want to spend “a fortune”, a fact that I could easily understand and relate to if not for the fact that every item of her outfit was designer, from her boots to her purse, (obviously not a knock-off), to her magnificent coat.

As more people were bringing their purchases to the register, I only had a few minutes to point out the Valentines’ that came with lollipops and then point her to the other choices that came with stickers.  She wouldn’t have to do much more than buy the boxes.

I returned to the register to find another young mom waiting to make her purchases.  With her baby boy sleeping soundly in his stroller and her daughter jumping happily up to the register hugging a giant stuffed pink monkey holding a heart closely to her chest, a heart that proudly stated, “I’m Yours”.  The mom pulled out a package of cards that need to be cut out and colored in before being given out.  She also purchased a brand new box of crayons.  The mom looked at her daughter and told her how much she was looking forward to working on the cards with her.  Her daughter smiled and held on even tighter to the cute stuffed animal.  I suggested we cut the price tag off the animal so the little girl wouldn’t have to let go in order to buy it.  “That’s a wonderful idea”, the mom told me!  The entire purchase came to less than $8.  The little girl walked out happy and the mom instructed her to hold on tight to the stroller as they left the store, all smiles. 

The other mom was still deliberating between card boxes and talking on her cell phone to someone, complaining about all she had to do.   Her son had moved on to the basketballs and was bouncing them across the floor.  With one great bounce, the ball flew high in the air and knocked down an entire stand of “Angry Bird” gummy bears.  The bags of sugary delights spread all across the floor.  The mother, who hadn’t even known where her son was up to that time, started screaming at him at the top of her lungs.  The little boy started to cry.  I told him not to worry, that nothing had broken and maybe if he wanted he could help me pick up the bags.

His mom ended her phone call and started yelling at her son again.  She told me that he needed to pick it up himself, that he needed to learn responsibility.  As I represent the store, I obviously could not argue with the woman, but my heart broke as the little boy sobbed while picking up the candy. 

I did turn to the woman and simply said that I needed to help him pick up the bags so that no one would trip.  I then proceeded to help him, I just couldn’t stand watching him doing it all alone.  Perhaps if she had been watching him, this wouldn’t have happened in the first place!  As I piled the candy, I told him he could help put it back on the shelf and that he should do it in a color scheme that he thought would look nice.  He smiled through his sobs.  My day was made.

The mom finally picked out the Valentine cards for the little boy and his sister, who was not there.  The candy was all cleaned up as the mess looked worse than it actually was, and I walked with them to the cash register.  The woman paid for her items, the two boxes of Valentine cards and she had somehow picked up a case for her IPhone and a case for her IPad.  She did not say anything to me, but she looked at her little boy and told him she would have purchased something for him if only he had behaved.  She went on to say how he had embarrassed her and if it weren’t that he had to give out the Valentines, she would not have bought them.

The young boy then followed his mom out of the store.  I watched as they walked into the parking lot, and then lost sight of them as more shoppers walked into the store.

Every so often I witness a mom who just doesn’t get it.  She thinks her children will always be young, always be by her side, that they are her property, not individuals to be respected and appreciated.  I understand that stress plays a part, but would love to explain that a change in HER attitude would turn these simple tasks into fun experiences to be shared instead of hassles to be endured.  This reality makes me feel sad for both the children and the parent.  I wish I could express to them that this time is so very precious.  I wish I could communicate that they should appreciate every single moment and turn the everyday into memories to last a lifetime.

Luckily, more parents are like the young mom who was excited about creating a nice holiday, full of happy memories for her and her child.  The majority of people in the store are happy and having fun and it is one of the great pleasures of working retail.  I’ve grown to know many of our customers and their children and some days I feel like Willy Wonka in the Chocolate factory.  It is then that I remember that these days are special for me, too.  And just at that moment, if I receive a text from my son or my daughter, I burst with true happiness. 

Have a happy Valentine’s Day! 



Saturday, February 4, 2012

It's February?



Cold winds blowing, snow piling up outside, frost covered windshields, warm soups and stews, fireplace blazing and snuggling under a warm blanket, these are the activities that usually convey the fact that February is here.  But this year none of those things fit the circumstances.  The weather is actually lovely, mid fifties (like my age); sunshine and frozen yogurt are filling the days.  It’s wonderful and terrifying at the same time.

I absolutely detest and am completely fearful about driving in the snow; I am one of those people that everyone complains about when driving in the snow.  “What is she doing?”  “Why is she out here driving?” But even worse than my driving is the idea that those I love are out driving in the dangerous conditions.  The icy roads that have caused so many fearful times have always been my least favorite aspect of this time of year.  So, you would think I would be thankful that those conditions have not, as of yet, been a major factor of this year’s weather.  I am and I’m not.  It’s just not normal; it’s just not right.

All along the east coast temperatures are consistently above normal.  Although a few, small snow events have occurred, nothing compared to most years.  The weather has actually been quite pleasant.  How long will it be until global climate change means we can keep our pool and hot tub open all year; from there, how long until we are all under water?

I can’t help but be amazed when I hear folks saying global warming is a hoax.  Do they not have eyes?  Are they so brainwashed by the oil company “scientists” and right wing media that they can no longer live in a fact based reality?  The resurgence of creationism and a complete lack of respect for science are mind-blowing.  Whether or not they choose to listen to the fact that global climate change is occurring and that it is, in great part, due to man’s actions, why not do all the things to keep it from getting worse anyway?  What harm is there to protect the planet, even if you don’t believe you are responsible for its denigration?  Do they want to be beholding to the middle-east countries and humongous oil companies that control the oil supply?  If so, why?

Today, my husband and I ran errands early in the morning.  We wore heavy jackets out of habit and respect for winter.  They were not necessary.  People are in stores, walking outside, riding bicycles, as if it is late April.  Short sleeves have never been packed away, ski slopes are making snow when they can, sleds and mittens are sitting on the shelves in stores while people are requesting Frisbees and hula hoops.  It’s weird.

I wish you all a wonderful day!  It’s February – buy your Valentine a hot dog and an ice cream cone and have a picnic in the park ~

Enjoy because tomorrow might bring a blizzard and then the deniers will be running around saying “I told you so”.  …as if it matters!