A Man Named Hector

Hector is my neighbor.  He lives across the street from me and was one of the first people to greet me when I moved into this neighborhood two years ago. He is absolutely delightful.  Always smiling, at 85 years young he still keeps a meticulously landscaped yard, adorns his house with the most festive of Christmas lights, and drives a mean snow blower when the brutality of the winter sets in.  What most stood out to me when I met him was how he spoke of his wife.  "Mama" is how he referenced her, ocasionally slipping in her name (Maria), He spoke of her beauty, what a wonderful wife and mother she was, and what a great cook.  (I guess the old adage is true...the way to a man's heart is through his stomach).  He also told me that she suffered a stroke ten years ago...a stroke that left her paralyzed. For a short time, she lived in a nursing home but because he could not bear to see her there, he brought her home and had been taking care of her ever since.  He bathed her, dressed her, cooked for her, fed her and tended to her every need.  He shared this with me very naturally, not with any amount of sadness, but almost with heart filled joy.  It was his privilege to care for this woman who shared his life...and it reminded me of the way my stepmom cared for my father.  She, too, tended to his every need, very patiently (most of the time), very lovingly, and with the determination that he would be treated as a king even as the disease of Parkinson's ripped away every ability that he once had. This act of selflessness to me speaks of true love.  You take your vows for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, and I witnessed firsthand the depth of this meaning.  I can only hope that my life will still bring me a partner who would go to these lengths for me if need be.

I noticed that Hector did not decorate his house for Christmas this year as he had normally done. He did manage to string a few lights but it was not the holiday display that the neighborhood had become accustomed to. While I found this odd, I gave it no more than a moment of thought and then continued with the hectic life that at times consumes me.  The holidays came and went and life continued as it always does.  Hours turned into days; days turned into weeks; weeks turned into months. When the snow finally came, I went outside to shovel and saw Hector once again.  He was there with his snow blower, jovial as always, stopping to say hello, making sure I was ok.   He reminded me, as he always does, that if I ever need anything, all I have to do is knock on his door.  I did mention how much I missed all his Christmas lights this year.  Holding back tears he told me he could just not do what he normally does this year.  You see, he said "My mama, my Maria..she died."  My heart sank. How could this man live directly across the street from me, suffer such a loss, and me, his neighbor not even know?  My heart broke for him as he shared with me the agony he felt the day he had to call the ambulance and how he knew that his sweet Mama would not be coming home.  He then proceeded to tell me that they shared 62 wonderful years together and then said "I will see her again. She's waiting for me."

I am not one that is generally lost for words, but at this moment I found myself struggling.  I wanted to share words of comfort but I know that words do little when your heart breaks for the loss of your love.  I have found that sometimes, the best thing to do is simply listen.  That I did while he slowly collected himself throughout the conversation.  His smile returned once again and conversation shifted to the snow that had come from out of nowhere creating havoc for drivers everywhere.  The snow hit two days before Valentine's Day and I wondered if Hector and Maria had celebrated this day at all.  Not all couples do, but regardless this day is symbolic of love and I wondered how he would be feeling as reminders of this day flood the radio and television.  As for me, I haven't had much of a Valentine's Day celebration in many years.  I haven't had a partner that made this day special for me in a long time and in all honesty, perhaps I had a skewed vision of what this day was supposed to be.

I left the conversation that day with a mixture of perplexed emotions.  My heart ached for Hector and the loss of his Maria.  I was very disappointed in myself that I did not know that she had passed.  I was a bit angry that even while noticing the difference in Hector's holiday decorations, I never took the time to find out if he was ok.  That is what's sometimes difficult about the hustle and bustle of the world we live in.  Neighborhoods aren't neighborhoods anymore.  They are often transient, with people coming and going, all too often not even knowing the names of the people who live right next door.  A feeling of sadness came over me when I thought about my lack of community when it came to my own neighborhood.

I decided that I wanted to do something for Hector on Valentine's Day.  I wanted him to know that someone was thinking of him.  I made him a pan of lasagna and brought it to him.  His eyes lit up when he saw me approaching his house.  He invited me inside and immediately apologized, lamenting that he is "poor."  I believe what he meant is humble, because there is nothing poor about his house.  It is modest, but it is charming. It is full of mementos that I can imagine Maria collected through the years with delight.  Photos of his children adorn every wall, along with old black and white photos of  his family in his home country of Peurto Rico,  We sat and talked for a while and I asked him if he met Maria in the United States or in Puerto Rico.  He delightfully told me the story of how he met "Mama."  He was in the service and Maria became his pen pal.  She would write to him every week.  I don't know how this happened but it seemed that it occurred through some formal organization that arranged for correspondence with servicemen.  He did have a fiance, though, in his home country of Puerto Rico and his plan was to finish his tour of duty, return to Puerto Rico and marry and then bring his bride to New York City to live where other members of his family had come.  When he got out of the service, however, he went to New York City and had the chance to meet his pen pal.  It was love at first sight.  The words he used "my heart, it just knew" brought me joy on this day that I would spend without a partner.  He told me that he promptly returned to Puerto Rico to bear the unfortunate news to his fiance that he would marry another.  He did not want to hurt that woman, whom he described as "so beautiful."  However, he knew his destiny was to marry Maria.  Within seven months they were married and in the next 62 years built a wonderful family and life.  He then told me about his children, including his son in law who met his daughter at the age of 16.  The courting occurred at home. His daughter was not allowed to go out with him. If he wanted to see her he had to come to the house and that is where they visited and "dated" until they married. He showed me photos of their wedding and of their children. His son in law died from cancer at the young age of 48.  He also showed me photos of his son who had also passed away from cancer at the age of 50.  He had no amount of sadness in his voice as he spoke of his son in law and his son, though I have no doubt their passing at the time was very difficult.  Now he rejoices in the life that they had and the memories that they built, blessings as he said often throughout our conversation.   He was very excited about the food I had brought him. He was going to call his daughter and tell her immediately what a nice thing I did.  He then invited me to stop over any time and visit and reminded me again that if I need anything, ever, all I had to do was ask.

I left Hector's home that day happy that I was able to visit with him.  I enjoyed hearing his stories and learning more about his family.  As delighted as he was to have my company and as much as I lifted his spirits, what he does not know is how much he lifted mine.  Each of us gets caught up in our own lives all too often and push aside the things that are truly important.  You see, nothing is as important as family, as the connection to one another, as kindness, compassion, laughter, celebrating moments, sunshine, children's laughter.   It is true that life is about the dash.  Hector provided a wonderful remembrance of that for me on a day meant to celebrate love.

People are placed into our lives for a reason and I truly believe Hector was placed in mine to remind me to slow down a little and celebrate the moments.  I went to dinner that evening with a group of female friends...my tribe.  We laughed, we swapped stories of our dating lives, we told each other how beautiful we are, we talked with the other restaurant guests who all seemed very intrigued that a group of women were out together on Valentine's Day, and we engaged the restaurant manager and staff in conversation.  We took pictures and each of us admitted that this was the best Valentine's Day we had had in a long time.  This was a celebration of love and I ended the evening feeling more optimistic than I had in a long time.  Thank you, Hector, for reminding me that love is all around us...and the dash is what makes it so.

Selling your Soul for Shoveled Snow

It's evening and I am winding down for the night.  My body is sore.  Every muscle feels like it's been run over by a Mack truck coming at me at full speed.  Despite the pain, it feels good.  I've shoveled more than 20 inches of snow in the last 48 hours.  Come the wee hours of the morning, I will be shoveling once again because the snow continues to fall.  This is not unusual.  I live in Upstate New York where winter brings snow, and lots of it.

It takes me two hours to shovel my driveway, which, while I have no idea of the square footage, is large enough to park five cars.  Two hours of back breaking, knee aching work.  But as I shovel, I am intensely aware of the feeling of satisfaction that has come over me.  I am quite content to be shoveling my driveway. In fact, I am feeling proud and accomplished to do so.  Don't worry...I haven't flipped my lid.  However, it wasn't so long ago that I was caught up in the pattern of selling my soul for shoveled snow.

A very strange statement, isn't it?  It's true nonetheless.  I will explain.  For three years, I was involved in a very unhealthy relationship that for all intents and purposes, robbed me of my soul.  I don't blame the man I was involved with. We are all responsible for our own actions and I own mine, but for three years I stayed with someone that every single day took a little bit more of my peace of mind. Shoveling the snow made me think of this man - not in a sad way - but in a way that reminds me of just how far I've come.

When I met "John" I found him to be very charismatic...handsome, charming, quick witted, and personable.   It had been a couple of years since I dated anyone and my last relationship left me broken-hearted.  I slipped into a cocoon and stayed there, focusing on nothing more than work.  But then came John and had a mission...to break down the walls I surrounded myself with.  I didn't know at the time that this was his game and also had no idea that I was about to dive right in to a relationship with a narcissist.

John greeted me warmly and almost instantly became attentive to my every need.  He made it clear that he was "my man" and as such, was proud to take care of anything I might need.  It's not that I am not capable of caring for myself.  It's that I had done it for so long that I was tired.  It felt good to have a man "do" for me and it did make me feel like a princess...for just a little while.  Need my lawn cut?  No problem.  John handled it.  Need painting done?  On it.  Need my car repaired?  No worries. Need my snow shoveled?  "Baby you'll never have to lift another snow shovel again."

About eight months into the relationship, we had "the talk."  Exclusivity it was, even though for the last eight months I had not seen anyone else.  Let's remember I hadn't dated anyone in two years and never could date multiple people anyway.  Once I'm in, I'm in. However, John was dating other people when I met him and to his explanation..."we're all dating other people until we're not."

At first I thought I would just go about the relationship enjoying it for what it was.  I had a very handsome man at my side when I wanted one.  And I was being taken care of in a way that I hadn't been in a very long time.  It seemed that I was calling the shots and it felt empowering to me.  But the more I seemed to get caught up in the relationship, the more uneasy it became for me.

After we had "the talk" things seemed to shift.  John went from someone enjoying the chase to someone who seemed content in his victory.  He was very comfortable in the fact that I had openly declared that yes, he was my man and there would be no others.  At first, it was subtle.  His phone would ring and he would send it to voicemail followed by immediate texting.  He became very secretive about his activities and he would get defensive...very defensive...if I dared to question him at all.  I just had this feeling...this sinking feeling...that despite "the talk" he was not living up to his end of the bargain.

When women have this sixth sense thing going on, there is nothing we won't do to hunt down the truth.  I became obsessed with proving myself right.  Every conversation became about finding out the truth and the more I inquired, the more he lied.  Blatantly lied.  Accused me of being insecure. Became verbally abusive.  Stormed out of the house.  Ignored me for a few days.  And then came back with some huge romantic gesture to prove just how much he "loved" me.  The pattern would repeat and every time it did, more and more of me slipped away.  That's what narcissists do, though.  They eat away at your soul and in this process, they control you.

The pattern continued.  There was the time I saw emails between him and someone he swore was an ex.  Not true.  There was the time I saw his car in front of another "ex's" apartment building and he swore he was visiting his cousin who just so happened to live in the same building.  Not true.  Oh, and there was a time he went to Texas for a week with another "ex".  This is a trip he told me was taking to visit family.  I actually believed him until I saw photos of her vacation to Texas all over Facebook. Ah the world of social media.  He exploded when I confronted him and lamented that yes, he did stay in a timeshare with his "friend" but it was only because they were in Texas at the same time and it made sense to split the cost of travel.  "Nothing happened," he said.  Oh, and then reminded me of just how insecure I am.  This seemed to be how he handled his own lies...by denying, denying, denying and by focusing the blame on me.  For a while, he had me questioning my sanity and in this process, I slipped into a very dark place.  I became more and more isolated and really wondered if it was my insecurity driving me to this place.  I was happy, even grateful, for the crumbs I continued to receive from this man because he made me feel like I should be grateful to have anything at all. 

How could I stay in a relationship that was so clearly unhealthy?  I don't know.  We've all done it for reasons that we will probably never fully understand.  At a certain point, though, I decided that enough was enough.  It was when my dad's illness progressed to the point where he was no longer able to care for himself.  Something about this snapped me out of this place I was in and I became aware of the fragility of time and just how little of it we have on this earth.  I no longer wanted to live my life with someone that didn't value me.  That could not commit to me, truly commit to me.  That thought so little of me that they could outright lie to me without batting an eye.

During visits with my father, when he had moments of clarity, he would speak to me and tell me how proud he was of me.  This filled me with guilt because if he understood what I was allowing in my personal life, he would not have been proud.  But I am very blessed that I had a father that didn't judge.  That loved me unconditionally and in a way, I think he did know.  And I think this was his way of reminding me of who he raised me to be.  

I broke off this relationship and I haven't looked back since.  My ex still calls me from time to time and has on occasion tried to ingratiate himself into my life once again.  I very respectfully decline. This has made me feel so very proud of my strength.  So, as I settle in for the evening, full of muscle soreness, I speak out loud "thank you Daddy.  I am no longer selling my soul for shoveled snow."

The Power of the Tribe

Good morning friends and Happy Monday!  I must admit...my bed was very cozy this morning but alas, when the dog has to go outside, you've got no choice but to throw back the covers and greet the day!

I am deep in thought over the events of the past weekend.  Reflection leads me to perusing the last several weeks, last several months, last several years.  As you all know, I began a journey more than a year ago, to reclaim my life, my health, my peace of mind. This journey has been fascinating in so many ways.  For example, I found myself doing something this past weekend that 12 months before, I would have never done.  I physically couldn't have done it...and because of those limitations, it would have never been a thought to begin with.  But here we are, a year later, 118 pounds gone, and I am surrounded by a group of women, several of whom I only recently met, that provide unconditional support and motivation.  Being around this group has given me a brand-new perspective on life, on myself, on my goals and my ability to achieve them.  In fact, in a recent discussion with a dear friend, and a member of this group, we both shared that we have a newfound peace in our life that neither of us has felt in a long time...and for myself, I can probably say never.

My theory is this...women have a difficult time in relationship with other women.  Some will read this statement and disagree, but this forum for me is about keeping it real and thus I don't hesitate to put all my 'ish out there.  I struggled with female friendships all through my youth, my teenage years, my twenties and even thirties. ("Mean Girls" was not made without merit, y'all!)  And yes, I get there are plenty of women who go through their lives with their bff's and don't experience anything negative, ever.  But you are far and few between, my fair ladies.   For many women, it starts when we are very young, intensifies in middle and high school, gets a little trickier in college and hides itself in the 20's.  I honestly believe that it's not until we are in our 30's (and for some of us even later) when we finally realize that as women, we do so much better when we lift one another.  It's a tough, competitive world as it is...and we all need our champions.  There is something magical that happens when women champion one another.  If only we learned this earlier in our lives, the world be full of strong, empowered women supporting one another!

I started a class recently.  A six-week class that I invited a friend to take with me.  She and I have been on the same journey of sorts and I thought she would enjoy it.  At the very least, I thought it would entertain us.  Neither of us anticipated the strength that we would gain from it.  It isn't the content necessarily.  Yes, there were some definite aha moments throughout but I've been in therapy for years so there are many things that I kind of, sort of, already have explored.  What the class did was bring those things to reality once again..but with the unconditional support of my fellow "sisters."  It created a safe space where we could put all of our insecurities out there with no fear of judgement.  Instead we received unconditional love, right where we were.  Being with my therapist is always a safe space for me but let's face it.  My therapist doesn't love me.  My sisters...they do!  Over the course of these six weeks, new friendships formed, healing began to occur, the participants became stronger, and we all stepped outside of our comfort zone a little.   The bond formed early on  and the end of the six weeks, it was clear that these women were now my tribe.  In fact, we are all each other's tribe.  I can't quite explain the feeling that comes with it, but it's a powerful one.  And it's a comforting one.

It's not that I haven't had friendships until this point of my life.  I've had lots of them.  And still do, but I have often struggled.  Take my very best friend from high school.  We were inseparable.  I was the maid of honor in her wedding.  She later became my son's godmother.  After her separation, she decided that it was ok to sleep with my boyfriend.  In the course of one weekend my world shattered.  I lost my best friend. I lost a man that I was crazy about. And my son lost his Godmother. Later, I would form a close friendship with a coworker. I supported her through the loss of her mother, her divorce, and the breakup of the first relationship she had after her divorce.  I got a promotion at work. She got envious.  I would later form another very close friendship with a coworker.  She died.  (Gosh do I miss her!).  What I am trying to portray is the pattern.  My bff's either betrayed me...or left me. Hence, I did not have the kind of bonds with women that were portrayed on "Sex and the City" or "Waiting to Exhale."  But oh, how I wanted them!  Who wouldn't? The group of women represented in these fictional writings were all powerful, independent women that supported each other through triumphs and tragedies...with an equal outpouring of love.  That is what I found when I happened upon my "tribe" and it has given me a source of strength that propels me forward.  I know without a doubt that these women will be there to listen, lift me up, share honesty, celebrate and pass the Kleenex along with the ice cream if need be.  Without hesitation. Without judgement.  Without prejudice.  How powerful is it to know that you've got a group of people that have your back no matter what?  To have a group of people that you can be your most vulnerable with and not be afraid of the backlash?  How often do we as women keep silent about our failures or don't taunt our successes because well, that would not be ladylike? How often do we defer to others in even the simplest of things such as "where do you want to go to dinner?"  And, how often are we the ones to compromise in relationships...all relationships...to keep the peace even when we know inherently that there are things we shouldn't compromise on?

This is what my tribe has taught me.  No, not taught, just reminded me emphatically.  "I am the total f'cking package."  And I deserve to live my life accordingly.

Ladies, get yourself a tribe.  It will be the best gift you give yourself, ever. 

PS to my tribe members...I love you and appreciate you all!

Peeling Away the Layers

Good morning friends!  It's early morning and I feel like I'm the only one awake!  I do love the serenity this time of day brings.  It allows me to reflect and focus, and if I listen to the quiet very closely, I can hear the sounds of the day just beginning.  The cars and trucks that drive by in the distance; the birds (yes even this time of year there are birds); my dog issuing a bark or two in response to a noise that surely means there is another animal in the vicinity; the hum of my refrigerator; and the very welcome sounds of the Kuerig machine hard at work.

As I gather my thoughts today, I reflect on the process of "peeling away the layers."  I've been doing this in therapy, on and off, for years.  I started when my son's father and I broke up; got through the process until I felt whole once again; and have gone back in, on and off, since then.

There are some who attach a stigma to therapy.  And for those that do, I don't mind telling you that you're wrong.  Therapy is healthy.  (Try it...you'll see!)  What I've discovered is that in order for it to work, truly work, you must be willing to peel away the layers; to be vulnerable; to look deep inside yourself and confront all those things that have been crippling you throughout your life. Yep...you have to be willing to admit that there's some f*cked up crap to deal with.  The beauty of this is this....we all have some crap.  Not one of us gets off this earth unscathed.  Bam!  Doesn't that make you feel better?

Peeling away the layers is a painful process.  It forces us to look at things from our past, to look at ourselves, to realize the consequences of our actions, to confront our childhoods, and to have those aha moments when you suddenly realize the patterns you've been repeating over and over and over again.  No one wants to open these wounds....but it's the first step to healing.

Why is it that we are so conditioned to bottle things up?  To pretend that things are good when they aren't?  To keep hidden those things that prevent us from moving forward?   To let fear lead us and in this process, defeat us?

I think it's the vulnerability of it all.  Most of us attach weakness to vulnerability, but that couldn't be further from the truth.

Vulnerability is defined as the quality or state of being exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed, either physically or emotionally.  Wow!  Isn't it quite brave, then, to be vulnerable?  Think about it!

We are conditioned to love the heroes.  It's all over tv, in movies, in our favorite books and our favorite Netflix series!  The heroes are the ones that rush right into the heat of things even though danger lurks on the horizon.  We all applaud them and cheer for them to succeed...and all of us know that in the end they will no matter how many obstacles are thrown in front of them.  Why, then, aren't we our own heroes?

I made a decision to change my life and I've done quite well with it these past couple of years. BUT, I knew I needed to make a change a long time before I started making it. I kept moving forward and then moving backwards, repeating patterns, retreating into my comfort zone (no matter how unhealthy that comfort zone was), and then moving forward again.  It took a major leap to keep moving forward but when I started to, I felt a shift around me.  I became happier. I recognized, and stopped myself, from repeating patterns.  I tried exciting new things.  I set boundaries. I became more productive at work.  I surrounded myself with only those people that lifted me up.  I didn't dread getting out of bed in the morning.  I smiled more at people passing by.  I found joy in every day things.  I met new amazing people that are inspirational to me and I connected with them over things that I care deeply about.  I opened up more and in this process found kindred spirits that provide unconditional love and support.  In short, I became my own, hero rushing into the heat of things, knowing that in the end, I will succeed.

Life is not meant to live small.  Many of us are stuck in a place of survival, but we are not in a place of living.  I want to encourage you to take a step toward vulnerability.  It is perhaps the bravest thing you will ever do.  And once you take this step, you will begin to heal and your life will be remarkable in ways that you could not have imagined.

Don't be afraid...so many wonderful things await!

Shoveling Snow with a Seven-Year-Old

It's New Year's Day and I am contemplating taking down all the Christmas decorations.  It took me a while to get them all up this year and I lament that I am not quite ready to put away all the pretty lights.  I turn my attention instead to cleaning and I am deep in thought as I flit around my house readying for the company I will have this afternoon.  My mind wanders through all of the events of the past week...some highs and some lows...but my thoughts keep going back to the snow that we had on Thursday.  This, I think, was the highlight of my work week.

I am not a fan of snow.  I don't terribly mind it but I hate the inconvenience of it. The messy roads. The way it affects my very fashionable boots.  The dirt that is tracked into the house and all over my hardwood floors.  And the shoveling of the driveway.  I don't have a particularly large driveway but it's big enough to fit about five cars and for a party of one, that's a pretty big task at the end of a busy day.  But snow it did on Thursday...not very much...but enough to require the shoveling of the driveway.

This past work week was a little unusual.  I think holiday weeks in general are more slow paced. Many people take the week off and the mood for those that are working is festive.  Holiday parties and open houses are quite the norm.  My week was unusual because I got to spend it with a seven- year-old.

One of the perks of my job is that it offers a very flexible environment.  So, when my friend needed someone to watch her daughter over school break, it was generally understood that she is welcome at my office.  Anyone that knows this seven-year-old knows she is not just any seven-year-old. She is exceptional on many fronts.  Not only does she fully understand the chronic illness her mother lives with, but she has taken on this cause as her own, volunteering many hours in many ways. And thus, my office, she says, is her office and she loves coming to work.  She has a desk that she has claimed as her own and she is as comfortable inside the setting of these four walls as I am.  She should be...she's been coming here for the past five years.  I've seen her blossom from an adorable two-year- old to a beautiful seven-year-old wise beyond her years but very much possessing the playfulness that she should at her young age.  It's an interesting contrast to see because to have a conversation with this young lady is an experience in and of itself.  She talks with the wisdom of someone four times her age and in the next breath she giggles with all the innocence she possesses in her soul.

This seven-year-old recently named me her Godmother.  Yes, I know that's not how it normally happens, but she asked me, very matter of fact, "can you be my Godmother because my Godmother died."  I know the duties of a Godmother because I once named one for my child.  This is not an invitation I take lightly.  Agree to it I do because you don't say no to something that God is directing.

Knowing that I am her "godmother" this seven-year-old seems to have a whole new appreciation and dare I say, love for me.  It has filled my heart in countless ways.  As I have seen my own son grow into a young man that I am very proud of, I have seen him bond with this child as well. He accepts her as part of our family and this means, according to my new Goddaughter, that he is her "God brother." One of the things I am most proud of is my son's ability to accept people no matter their life circumstances.  He judges no one and holds no prejudice.  He, for all intents and purposes and according to today's society, has lived a privileged life.  That may be very true, but he also understands that everyone has a journey, we are all children of God, and we all have a responsibility to do the best we can for each other.  These are traits he shares with his new God sister and so I believe that both her and her mom were placed in our lives in a divine manner.
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Thus, my Goddaughter and I spent the week at my office.  She working at her desk and playing school in our conference room; me accomplishing what I can in between the questions that come from her.  We enjoyed Panera Bread for lunch every day and we got to have very interesting conversations during this time about many things.  School, Christmas, her siblings and step siblings, Santa and Jesus.  Knowing the roads were a little messy on Thursday, I thought we should leave the office and meet her mom at my house.  It would be easier for her mom and I would get home to shovel the driveway earlier.  My Goddaughter totally agreed and said to me "that's a really good idea.  Let's go slow and be safe."  Good advice, I thought!

We approach my house and I pull into my garage.  As we get out of the car I ask her if she wants to help me shovel.  I was joking...sort of...because I didn't really think a seven-year-old could master a shovel.  But, she was very enthusiastic about it...far more enthusiastic than me...and far be it for me to dampen her spirit.

We set out about the work at hand...she at the top of the driveway and me at the bottom.  While I labored over it trying to get it done as quickly as possible, she was laughing, asking me to watch her, approaching the task very meticulously.  If she missed a spot, she went back and got it.  If the pile she was making somehow fell, she went back and fixed it.  She giggled when she slipped and fell and got right back up again to finish her chore.  When we met in the middle she very readily told me she would finish.  Her mom arrived and she wanted her mother to wait until she was done "working" before they left.  She exclaimed multiple time that she was having so much fun.  And her mom and I watched in amusement as she conquered the use of the shovel and the clearing of the driveway.

Later that night as I went outside to turn the holiday lights off, I looked at my driveway, nice and clean, and in wonder that something that delighted a seven-year-old caused much anxiety in me.  There was a time when I loved snow.  When I was a seven year old, perhaps.  I remember sledding, ice skating, building snowmen...and enjoying all these activities with my own child. Somewhere along the way I lost the beauty and the wonder of this magical gift from Mother Nature.  Adulting is like that at times.  We forget to enjoy all the wonders of life and become so focused on what we must accomplish that we don't always see the beauty of that which is in front of us.

I remember how much this young lady laughed as she set about the "work" of clearing the driveway and I thought to myself...why could I not view it this way? The snow is beautiful, actually.  The purity of it; the way it sparkles against the streetlights and the colors of the holiday lights that adorn my house; the familiar crunch under my feet; and the way my dog delights in it as she runs through the yard sticking her nose in it time and time again and jumping up in what seems to be pure delight.

 I stared at the snow a little longer, took in the crispness of the air, and decided to leave the holiday lights on for all those that happen to be driving by to enjoy.  Yes, life is full of wonder and reminders of that come every day.  I want to embrace the wonder.  I hope that when I fall into a funk, I remember the day I shoveled snow with a seven-year-old.

Gratitude...and reflections of 2016

Hello everyone.  It's been a while since I've written and I'm feeling a little guilty about that.  Truth be told, I've had a very hard time finding inspiration.  That sounds strange since there have been many things this year that I felt like screaming out loud about.  But every time I sat down to write I simply could not find the words.  I'm not even certain they will come now, but we are nearing the end of 2016 and so the adage goes, out with the old, in with the new.  It seems a perfect time to reflect on the past year and shed the things that weigh us down.  This is a process many of us go through and it helps us to approach the new year with optimism, hope, and resolve.  It's been a tough one on many fronts but despite the challenges it brought many lessons and many blessings.

I first want to talk about the election.  This election was unlike any other that I have seen in my lifetime.  It divided the country unlike anything I have witnessed in my five decades on earth.  Not only did it bring racism and prejudice in front of all of us, but it also had a dramatic effect on families and longtime friendships.  I am pretty open about my political beliefs but never more than this year was I outright criticized for believing what I believe and voting for whom I voted for.  This, despite my public declaration time and time again, that I support everyone's right to choose their candidate. Regardless of the criticism sent my way, I stand by my ideals and appreciate the opportunity this election provided for dialogue.  Seek first to understand and then to be understood is a very good lesson in the presidential election of 2016.  No matter what side of the political coin any of us are on, I believe that understanding points of view holds the key to uniting us as we go forward.  The most positive thing to come of this election, for me, is that I connected with an amazing group of people that are concerned about the issues I am and together we are proactively organizing activities that can have a positive impact.  It feels good to do something.  And never have I been more motivated to do something than now.  For that, I am thankful.  

2016 brought losses of iconic figures.  A long list of legends that touched our lives in one way or another.  These losses saddened many of us.  What strikes me, though, is how fortunate we are to feel this loss.  Without it, we would have never known the films, the music, the writing, the history, the legends.  To feel the loss means that somehow our lives were touched forever and what a blessing that is.

2016 also brought me an inherent drive to focus on my health - physical, spiritual and emotional.  For many, many years I focused on all things but me and in this process, I suffered.  I was doing a great job of taking care of everyone else but not so much when it came to me.  I became isolated.  My pattern was work, home, and back to work again.  I lost joy.  I lost passion.  I lost happiness.  My dad's passing shook me to the core but it also propelled me in a way that I hadn't been moved in a very long time.

My dad wanted certain things for me and in his passing, I wanted to honor his wishes.  So, I set out on a journey to restore my soul.  I wanted to fix all the things that were broken in me.  This process took some serious self-reflection.  The bad personal choices, the toxic people I let into my life, the wall that I built to keep all things positive out, and the smile that I placed on my face to fool the world...all had to go.  It's scary to embark on a journey like this but the thing about it is that once you take the first step, and then the second, and then the third...it becomes easier and easier. Every step I took motivated me to take the next.  I found empowerment in saying no and setting boundaries.  Strength in ridding toxicity from my life.  Self-awareness from remembering who I was. And purpose by focusing on the things that nurture my spirit.

I make no apologies for who I am.  My mistake for a very long time was in believing that I somehow was not good enough.  I am damn good enough.  That does not mean I am perfect.  I am far from it. I am human and I make mistakes...lots of them.  I say snarky things at times.  I am a bit stubborn.  I get moody.  I obsess about things.  I am misunderstood and I misunderstand.  But my heart is sincere and I've learned to accept myself, flaws and all.  This acceptance has brought forgiveness and it has removed guilt.  And thus, I have peace in my soul.  And that is perhaps the biggest blessing of 2016.

2016 also brought changes in personal as well as professional relationships.  This process left me baffled at times.  We all have people in our lives that we know shouldn't be there but for whatever reason, we let them linger.  We think it will get better.  We think we can love them into wholeness. We think that if we remain loyal friends, the loyalty will be returned.  I had to learn many lessons about the circle I was surrounding myself with.  As I let people go (and as people let me go), what blossomed was truth.  There are some people in your life that say they are your champion, but when the going gets too tough, they bail.  There are others that are in your life simply for what you can do for them and as soon as you fulfill that purpose, they also bail.  This reality hurts.  But the pain is more than overcome when the truth surfaces.  You see who your true champions are.  Those that encourage you on your journey and want you to grow.  Those that see beauty in your flaws.  Those that will stand in the center of the fire with you and not shrink back.  These people surfaced for me this year.  Some I knew were there all along but I took for granted.  Others came from out of nowhere and fed my soul.  And I am thankful for each and every one of you.  My journey to be whole continues...but I am so blessed to have people in my life that are moving me forward.

As 2016 comes to a close, I find myself more optimistic than I have been in a long time.  I remain focused on my goals and have learned to not let self-doubt deter me.  I've learned to turn negativity off and to shut it down before it takes hold.  I take lessons as blessings.  I am thankful for those in my life who motivate me and those who call me on my crap.  Thankful for those that challenge me even if the challenge comes from out of nowhere.  Everything does not have to be all wine and roses in order to be great,  I am looking forward to 2017 and the things it will bring.  As I say goodbye to 2016, I say it with hope, optimism, and humility.  I don't have a lot of New Year's resolutions to share other than this....I'm going to continue trying.

Happy New Year everyone!

Dear Dad

Hard to believe, but it's been one year since you left us.  We've somehow managed to survive the year of the "firsts."  The first birthdays -- yours and ours; the first Father's Day, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's, snowfall, summer and this day.  A year ago I could not fathom how things would change or how we would survive, yet somehow we did.  We've had lots of tears along the way but somewhere through the darkness we found laughter.  Days are not easy but in my heart I know you are with us, watching over and guiding us.

Life is different without you here.  There is a definite emptiness that will never go away, though every day I learn to cope in new ways.  Rather than reflect on the sadness of this day, I wanted to take a few minutes out and let you know what has transpired over the past year...the things that I think would make you most proud.  Things we used to talk about often.  I share them today because I want you to know that I listened...even when you think I didn't.

First, I have made a conscious effort to rid toxicity in my life.  Those people that bring a dark cloud with them...I've eliminated them from my life or I've found a new way to cope with them that doesn't bring me down.  I choose to stay in a positive place and I don't let people steal my joy...not anymore.

I work less hours.  I make a decision every day to stop work at a reasonable hour and just go and enjoy.  Enjoy time with Joey, my animals, the quietness of my house, the company of friends, the beauty of the outdoors.  You always worried about the long hours I was putting in...and finally I have slowed down.  And guess what...the work still gets done!

I've taken control of my health.  This is something you always worried about and wanted me to do and finally I am doing it.

I have learned how to say no and to set boundaries.  You always told me not to let people take advantage of me...and while I never considered myself a pushover, I know I did too much for people and I have finally found the empowerment to say no.

I spend my time on things that truly matter to me.  Not just my work - but other things that have given me a new purpose, such as the Parkinson's organization.  I honor you through doing what I can for this organization and it fills me with joy.

Perhaps the biggest things is this....We spend more time together as family....all of us.   We always did spend time together but the things we've gone through the past year have made us stronger and closer...and I know it makes you happy to see that the bond is stronger than ever.

As I look back through my life, my childhood, teenage years, and adult years, I know that I am blessed because you are my father.  You taught me so much, believed in me, encouraged me and supported me through everything...even when you knew I was making mistakes.  I love you and miss you every single day but I am so very thankful that God gave me you as my dad.

Love you Dad.  Please keep watching over us.