Sadness & Inspiration

”Meg Cross Menzies was tragically killed by a drunk driver while out for her morning run on January 13, 2014. As an avid runner, member of the Richmond Road Runners Club, and Boston marathoner, she was a member of the running family nationwide. In her honor, our hope is to raise awareness of drunk driving, texting and driving, and overall safety of runners and cyclists everywhere.”  Source: Meg’s Miles FB page

I’m feeling sad this morning. While the tremendous and global outpouring of support for this event is uplifting and impressive, my heart is very heavy for the loss of this young woman. That her children will grow up without her, that her husband has lost his partner, that her many friends will miss her presence is really too tragic to think about without being sad.

I have thought about it all week. I have wanted to write about it all week but, honestly, I’ve been unable to express how I feel. There simply are no words, and yet trying to articulate the jumble of emotions I feel is what brings me comfort.

I didn’t know Meg, but I can identify with her. It’s that “mother thing.” Once you become a Mom, your lens is forever changed. I find myself projecting others’ situations or events into my life. What would I do? How would my family be affected? I don’t know why this is. Perhaps it’s a coping mechanism, or a way to prepare for unforeseen tragedies that could befall one at any time.

Looking at Meg’s FB page, there are pictures of a recent trip to Disney and the kids in front of the Christmas tree. The family with arms around each other. All smiles. No idea that in a mere few weeks their worlds would be forever changed. But who would expect it, really? We cannot spend every minute worried that it may be our last. We can only live in the moment, and enjoy it, and be grateful for it.

I found this blog post, If I Die on Monday, to be especially lovely and really capture a lot of what I was feeling. What happens in the aftermath of a tragedy like this? If I were to die, what would I want for my family?

I think about Meg’s morning and what it must’ve been like. Did she brush the hair back from her sleeping babes and kiss them before she left for her run? Or were they awake and she poured them a bowl of cereal before she left? Did she and her husband enjoy a cup of coffee before lacing up her running shoes? Did she holler “Be back in a little while” over her shoulder as she headed out the door?

So, while I feel tremendous sadness for the family of this woman I’ve never met, I also feel inspired by Meg and how she lived her life. It was short. She was only 34. She was Christian. She loved and was loved. I’m inspired to recognize my blessings…every.single.day…and not take any of them for granted.

What I learned today: The banality of every day is what makes it special.

Caring & Caring Not

For many, many years, I was a people pleaser. I wanted people to like me. I wanted them to think I was nice, conventional, appropriate…whatever they needed me to be. What the hell is that?! Why? What deep-seated insecurities must I have had to require the approval of people I don’t even know?

Was I nice enough?

Was I thin enough?

Was I smart enough?

Was I kind enough? Funny enough? Clever enough? Cool enough?

Couple this “need” to be liked with being painfully shy and you have my young adult life all wrapped up in one anxious and self-conscious path.

What changed all that? Becoming a Mom.

Suddenly…instantaneously…I knew who I was, who I wanted to be for my kids, and what really mattered. I found my voice, and I didn’t much care what anyone thought about it.   

Gone was the wallflower who would sit back and watch others and follow their lead. Here was a leader, an outspoken advocate for her kids, and someone who was confident in who she was. Even greater, here was a woman who didn’t give a crap (or at least less of a crap) whether or not you actually liked her.

This point was driven home by a conversation with my husband last evening:

“You really should be more careful about what you post on Facebook.” 

“I don’t care.” 

“People may not understand it’s a joke.” 

“I don’t care.” 

“But they won’t have the context and who knows what they’ll think?” 

“I don’t care.” 

“Well, you’re a public figure now.” 

“I don’t care.” 

“You have a reputation to protect!” 

“I REALLY don’t care. If it becomes a problem for someone, they can impeach me from the School Board…like anyone wants my position anyway!” 

And the truth is, I DON’T care! It was very liberating to say it and actually mean it!

It doesn’t mean I’m cold or selfish; nor does it mean I wish to offend. Quite the opposite. I find it makes me even more respectful of others’ opinions, especially if they’re passionate about their beliefs. I find it makes me even more diplomatic in situations. But most of all, I find it makes me happy. I like who I am. You don't agree? I really don't care. ;)

What I learned today: Friction Lotion can lead to some interesting and empowering conversations.

Papou Haiku

He ails. Still. Quiet.

Sporadic lucidity.
Oh, winter of life.

Lemons & Lemonade

Perhaps it is the morning yoga class…breathing in the good emotions and breathing out the bad ones. Perhaps it is 5 days spent with good friends in Caribbean bliss…cocktailing, sunning, exercising, sleeping, and reading. Perhaps it is simply the awareness that I have more blessings in my life than I can count and more than I deserve. Whatever the case, I enter the airport feeling peaceful. (lemonade)

The place is chaotic. A queue of tanned travelers run through security and customs in a fairly orderly fashion. But the terminal is packed. Apparently, there are plenty of flights TO St. Thomas but not as many FROM. Makes sense…who wants to leave this place anyway? Several flights are overbooked, including mine. (lemons)

“This flight is overbooked. We are looking for volunteers to not take this flight. We are offering $500 plus a voucher for hotel, meals and travel to and from the airport.”

The offer is sweetened every half hour or so. Eventually, the going offer hits $1000! It certainly makes me think…a few more days here gratis could be nice. (lemonade) The kicker is that the next available flight isn’t until 6 days hence. Wow. (big lemon)

One poor woman is completely losing her shit. (go suck a lemon) She yells at the airline agent as though that will make the record colds in the Midwest and Northeast abate. She’s connecting through Chicago, which was obviously poor planning on her part. Clearly, her chakras are out of balance. I consider telling her both of these things, but think better of it. (just smart)

Thankfully, I board and fly safely and without incident to Newark. (grateful lemonade) However, it turns out my flight from Newark to home is canceled. Not delayed. Canceled. I guess connecting through Newark was poor planning on my part, too! (bad karma lemon for thinking that woman should suck a lemon)

Generally, when I’m under stress I shift into “white hot” mode. “I will fix this. I will find a plan.” I simultaneously talk with Bert and the United help desk while standing in their customer service line. The man on the phone offers me a flight on Thursday (3 days later), the woman in front of me puts me on standby (#12 on the list) for a flight later that night, and Bert suggests I just stay, make the best of it, and take a train tomorrow. I married him for more than his good looks.

Dial Christopher…he and Derek are home. “Yes. Come! We’re just fixing dinner. See you soon.” (good lemonade)

A quicker than expected cab ride to the East Village swiftly lands me in the warm confines of Chris & Derek’s flat. Candles ablaze. Pinot Noir just corked. Salmon is cooking. It is lovely to see them. A real treat. I sleep on their daybed with sheets that have a higher thread count than the nicest hotel, fluffy down pillows and a down duvet. I’m cocooned in heaven for one more night. (really good lemonade)

I wake early. Read. Write. See the sunrise shining on the Empire State Building. It’s a gorgeous day, albeit frigid. Kiss Christopher goodbye. Take a shower with exquisitely fancy bath products. Wrap myself in an Egyptian cotton towel big enough for Andre the Giant, and then put the kettle on. (even better lemonade)

Derek emerges from his slumber with fabulous Scottish bed head and a silk robe. He prepares eggs with cream and smoked salmon on toast. Proper linens. And champagne. He clearly doesn’t want me to leave. (best lemonade ever!)

Alas, I call the car service to go to the train station. My train is on time, uncrowded, quiet, and pleasant. I spend another 7 hours reading, writing and daydreaming. I’m heading home to see my babies and my incredible husband.

For a canceled flight and stressful 2 days of traveling, I feel incredibly peaceful. Twelve hours of unexpected bliss with two of my favorite fellas fortified me. My chakra is balanced…all 7 of them!

What I learned today: Making lemonade out of lemons may take some effort, but is always worth it in the end. Start sqeezing!

Caring & Compassion

Out of breath and tired from running to the gate. Nearly missed our flight. Finding my seat on the plane, I’m mildly irritated by the woman who is grilling the stewardess about what food they will be serving – irritated only because they’re having this conversation next to my assigned seat and I cannot settle in. She orders her salad before the plane is even fully boarded which is odd because it’s only 10am. Whatever.

She looks up and sees me waiting, and scoots over out of the way so that I’m able to pass and find my seat. She is an older woman…elderly, even. She is well dressed. She is traveling alone. She is seated immediately behind me on a flight that is not very crowded at all.

Shortly after takeoff, the stewardess asks her if she wants to close the window shade so she can rest, and then the conversation takes a turn. While I cannot hear the old woman’s voice clearly, I can hear her angst. There’s an edge to her quiet voice.

I hear the stewardess’s responses:

“Yes, so let me show you. You were here – in Louisville, Kentucky – and we flew you to here – Philadelphia. See? Right here. Here is where we are now. And now we are flying to St. Thomas. That’s where you will meet your family. 

No, no. You’re not lost. We know where you are. We’ve got you. We will take care of you. We are taking you to your family. They will meet us there – in St. Thomas.

 It’s a couple of hours. We should be there around 2. 

Yes, your family will meet us there. We will take good care of you. Do you want a Coke?

No, the Coke is free. You don’t have to pay for that. Here, I’ll shut your blind for you. 

Right, we are going to St. Thomas. Your family will you meet you there. No, you don’t need to call them. They are going to meet you when you land. We will take you to them. Don’t worry. We’ve got you.” 

Awww...my heart melts a little. This stewardess is so sweet and kind and patient in tending to this woman. It makes me think of her family and how anxious they must be as well, what with Granny flying solo and all – especially if she is easily confused. I would be ever so grateful to know that someone was tending to my mother as kindly as this woman.

As the attendant approaches me with the snack cart, I request a fruit & cheese plate and indicate that I’d like to pay for the salad for the lady behind me as well. She says that they are already taking care of that. Then, she hands me back my credit card and says they will make mine complimentary too because it was so nice of me to offer. Whoa! A preemptive pay-it-forward! Very cool, considering we’re less than 11 hours into a new year.

Thinking back about my morning thus far, there are several instances of care or compassion shown to me…my husband ensuring I woke in time for my flight; my daughter’s sweet text telling me to have fun and she loves me; my dear friend inviting me on this trip; the kind gentleman who stepped aside so we could run like banshees to our gate in time. The stewardess comp’ing my snack. I’m sure there will be more.

There are many opportunities to be caring and/or show compassion daily, and it needn’t be Mother Theresa stuff. Let the guy in who is trying to merge. Let the lady behind you in line with only 2 items jump ahead of you. Hold a door for someone. It’s fairly simple; one must simply be aware.

As we leave the plane, a nice young man helps the woman walk down the shaky stairs from the plane...more caring and compassion. She makes it to a wheelchair and the staff takes her to her family who is awaiting her arrival. Many people made that happen – it truly takes a village.

What I learned today: Caring and compassion come in many forms, and can even score you a free cheese plate.

No resolutions for me

2014 is here. I refuse to claim any New Year’s “resolutions.” Resolutions are practically meant to be broken. Why on Earth would I commit to something I know I won’t achieve? Well...we all know why. ;) Best of intentions...blah blah blah. Instead, I have identified a couple of things I would like to do this year. Things that will make me happy. Things that will challenge me. And things that will feed my soul. One of those things is writing.

Writing is my profession, my talent, my catharsis, my happy place. I love the power of words for what they can capture, express, and convey, and for the emotion that they can evoke. (Have you ever read a book that brought you to tears? Lucky you.)

So my “thing” (not a resolution, mind you) is to write more this year, via this blog. To take a little time each week to record something with words. Could be happy, could be sad, could be angry, dunno...we’ll see how the year shakes out!

I will focus each entry on a different emotion, event or instance that moves me to write. I do so in the hopes that by writing about it, it will not be so fleeting. It will live in perpetuity via this blog.