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No apologies. Nope I won’t apologize. Why should I feel badly that I haven’t written a blog or visited my blog since Thanksgiving. That would be just short of two months ago. So, no, I am not apologizing. Just wasn’t in the mood. Had lots going on. Didn’t feel like communicating. No apologies.
I feel really badly about this.
Thanksgiving weekend has almost come to a close. It was a quiet holiday, but there was much to be thankful for. After a wild fall of weather, a quiet weekend was both welcome and relaxing. We spoke often of those who were not with us–or we with them. Of course, Alex topped the list. Ferd was right there with him. As I set our dinner table, I thought of Bobbie and used her silver as a way to insure that she and the memories of Thanksgivings past were well represented. It was sweet to reflect on last Thanksgiving and our fun visit to the Kuntz’s and Dawson’s at Lake Geneva. It was equally sweet to think of Frosts from Florida to Michigan, Texas to Georgia and the good times we have enjoyed together in the recent past.
I give thanks for my beloved spouse, for my three amazing children, for Dakota who makes me smile, for my extended family, for my friends both new and old, for my job and the security and sense of accomplishment it brings, for my crafts and the joy they give me, for good health and enough to eat and a roof over my head. I am thankful for my good fortune and mindful of those who have suffered especially this fall with the storms and I hope for the best for them.
Monday will bring the everyday rush and cares. The crazy run up to the Christmas holidays, but for the balance of today, there is time to savor and reflect.
While we have all assumed Sandy was a woman, I would point out the “Sandy” can also be a man’s name. In either case, this will not be a popular name for a baby for quite some time.
As proof that I truly did not understand the storm to come, I had the excited, fevered thought that perhaps we would have a “snow day!” I don’t think I was alone in completely not understanding what Hurricane Sandy would do. Or that I would end up with five snow days.
We were driving back from Maryland. We had driven down on Saturday to visit Alex. Back east for special training, we had thought the five weeks he would spend just hours south of us would provide multiple opportunities for visits. Halfway to Maryland, he called to say his team would be working both days, all day, during the weekend. The storm threatened their training schedule and they needed to make up the time they might miss from a packed and expensive training session. We were already committed and continued driving despite our disappointment in the greatly reduced hours for basking in his presence.
We had a lovely evening; a good dinner and Alex said good night. He had a big test Sunday morning and needed to get in some study time. Sunday morning when we went for coffee, the wind was already picking up. Seeing Alex again would mean waiting until after 4 p.m. and driving home in the rain and beginning of the storm. We decided that it was time to head home and batten down the hatches—an all too apt phrase given the enormous storm surges and winds about to hit the East Coast.
What I am so thankful for. Of course, I am so thankful that our house is unscathed. Having lived through the catastrophe of downed trees crashing into the house spearing Peter’s wall with a powerful thrust and totaling the car, littering the yard like giant match sticks with fences and bushes crushed underneath, I see the other homes with damage and feel tremendous sympathy. I am thankful for hot and cold running water. What a huge difference it makes to have water for washing and cooking and drinking. I am thankful that our gas stove and oven work. What a luxury to have hot food. We have nothing to complain about. I am so glad that it isn’t the dead of winter and the chill in the house is not threatening pipes even though, as time goes by, the chill is less easily defeated with a warm sweater or fleece. Actually, as you can see in the photos, I am wrapped like a giant grape in a fleece bag which Jim gave me years ago. It was always too warm before, but it feels fantastic now.
Silence. It is so silent. All the noises we never notice and take for granted are gone; the sound of the furnace and the hot water heater; the sounds of cars passing by and the big trucks on I-287 braking by downshifting; the faint wail of the train whistle as it passes through Port Chester station; jets taking off from White Plains and passing overhead. The only noise during the day is the sound of chain saws as frenzied crews try to remove enormous trees and gain access to repair the downed lines for power and phones. Slowly the noises creep back, but it remains strangely quiet.
I do not miss the noise of the storm.; the howling and gusting wind which bashed against the house and caused the roof to creak ominously. I do not miss the fear I felt looking at our two plate-glass doors and worrying that a branch or object would crash into them, shattering the glass and leaving us victims of the storm’s raging. I do not miss the sudden banging noises when something flew into the house and we wondered what had come loose. I do not miss the feeling of being helpless in the dark just hoping that the night would end and we could see what had happened outside.
With each passing day, the lack of heat becomes more uncomfortable. There are no crews in sight to restore our power and I expect they have been busy in the city. Who would imagine that the entire south end of Manhattan would flood and be without power? It defies understanding. Walking around our neighborhood, the destruction is immense. Huge trees lying across roofs, power lines hanging useless in the air, yards unrecognizable under piles of branches and tree trunks, it all represents a huge toll on many, many people. However, all that pales against other tallies: the increasing count of fatalities, the hundreds of homes burned when firemen couldn’t reach the fires, the hundreds of thousands of damaged homes, the flooded towns. It is on a scale rarely seen in our country. Even as the clean up continues, Hurricane Sandy leaves questions in its wake. Is this a new weather pattern? How do we minimize the damage from future storms? Is this our future?
This morning it was a gorgeous autumn day. The sun was shining, the air warm and the leaves were bright with color. The air had that tart smell of decaying leaves and it was so easy to remember all there is to love about fall.
Despite the sun squint on his face, this week marked a big step in Peter’s life. This week Peter joined the working world!
After weeks of trying to crack getting that first job, Peter was hired at a newly opening franchise for the burger chain, Smashburger. I have to admit I felt good about his chances at getting hired when Peter reported that he had engaged the hiring manager in conversation. When Peter chats, he is devastatingly charming. When the call came, Peter got the barest details, but he knew when to report for training.
Monday was his first day. Jim and I waited anxiously for Peter to return home after his first day. He arrived home after 10 p.m., but he was upbeat and happy. He reported that only 6% of the beef used in burgers in the U.S. is Angus, but all burgers at Smashburger are 100% Angus. We had to admire his enthusiasm.
Subsequent days have supported this positive situation. Peter reports that he is doing well at work. The restaurant is set to open this coming Wednesday so they are still in training mode, but the set up seems ideal for Peter. Orders are placed at the front register and then diners take a number and sit down at the table. Orders are then assembled and brought to the appropriate table. Peter is working the front of the restaurant so I guess he’ll be taking orders. This is a great situation for him.
Working is a major milestone in everyone’s life. Having a job makes one feel useful, builds confidence and, despite the loss of freedom, gives one a sense of purpose. This is all happening for Peter and it is very exciting. The next big development is getting that first pay check. We can’t wait to see how Peter reacts to having truly earned the first money in his life. That money represents accomplishment and self-sufficiency. We are loving watching Peter reach this stage in his life.
J.R.R. Tolkien is the source of the title of this blog post. The past two and 1/3 years have been a period of transition, of finding new aspects of my self. These years were a time of learning, of networking, meeting new people and making new friends. This time was often marked by feelings of grief, of feeling a loss of self, a loss of accomplishment. There were many days when I just couldn’t see what the future could possibly be and could only focus on all that I felt I had lost.
But this transition time was also an opportunity for connecting to my family and being a presence to my family in a way that had never happened before. Being home for Ellie’s last year of high school, for Peter’s return home from Chamberlain, for Jim’s own journey through his Masters program was important and satisfying. My own life seemed to be drifting, but theirs weren’t and I was there to help, to support and to simply be a presence. Cooking dinner each day an sharing that evening meal was a new and often welcome time to bond and be a family. I was quite fond of that part of my daily schedule.
As time went by, I became more used to being home during the day. I had a routine to follow. Up early at 5:30 to exercise, read the paper, eat some breakfast and then check email, shower and head to my office by 8:30. It wasn’t my former routine of heading to the city, but it was a comforting routine nonetheless.
While sometimes I couldn’t quite see what to do next, I was never without activity. I would read about both publishing and later nonprofits when my interests turned in that direction. I had tweeting to do and, of course, job boards to check. I had clients to work for and then projects around the house to further. Since we didn’t know if we would be staying in our house, I did lots of purging and streamlining of over ten years’ accumulation. I kept a daily log of all my outreach and contacts which gave me the satisfaction of seeing what I had accomplished and a roadmap.
Having worked in an industry which was undergoing tremendous change and upheaval and having been lucky enough to have been pretty successful in that industry, a big part of my “wandering” involved trying to understand what my next steps should be. I worked hard trying to re-imagine myself. I tried many paths to finding that next stage. Often it felt like I was heading down a path only to find that it failed to lead anywhere or perhaps it led somewhere, but the destination wasn’t what I needed.
Early in the process I spent a week with my former author, Dick Bolles. He described the transtion phase as being in a blue light. It was a time of limbo, a passage which was undefined in form and duration but through which one must travel. It was an apt characterization in many ways.
The end to this period came out of the blue and, as so many had predicted, from one of many contacts which came to fruition many months later. My wandering was done and the feelings of frustration, of worry about the future, of feeling of no value, came to a quick end as joy and excitement over a tremendous new opportunity took over.
Suddenly I was getting ready for my first day of work. Jim was there to memorialize the process. Putting on work clothes had a whole different feeling when I was doing it to head to a job rather than another meeting or interview. I anticipated that first day with great excitement and happiness. I wasn’t really nervous, but incredibly thankful.
Two weeks into my new professional life, I remain as excited, grateful and happy as ever. I get up to go to work with eagerness. My new colleagues are all extremely nice and have been most welcoming. I adore being part of the organization and relish the prospect of making a contribution. With Jim substitute teaching, mornings are busy as we both prepare to head off to work.
I may have wandered, but I am no longer lost. As time goes by, I know the journey will take on a different meaning and I hope that it will come to represent a time of discovery, not loss, of re-definition, not loss of self-definition. A kind of re-boot which will have given me a new orientation and a refinement of my values.
Veterans Day has certainly become more meaningful to me as my life has become more entwined with military service and especially the Marine Corps. Reading blogs from the Marine Corps, sharing Alex’s experiences and the recent celebration of some of our service men heroes, brings the idea of sacrifice and commitment into sharp focus.
I want to share this amazing link to a rap done by a former Marine honoring a Medal of Honor recipient, Jason Dunham. Written by former Cpl. Joe Potter, this video made me pause and reflect on the selflessness and ultimate sacrifice made by Cpl. Dunham. I want to share it and hope you wil share it as well.
I also want to share the background on Joe Potter, the creator of the song and video because it is also an example of the respect and brotherhood forged in the Marine Corps.
I know that Alex would love to “go the the sandbox” and make what he feels is a meaningful statement in his career, but when I see the picture of Jason and his mother together, I am thankful that I will never have to bear the cost of his heroism. I am too selfish. But I am also proud of Alex and the men and women who are willing to rish it all for what they believe in. Semper Fi.
The coincident process to undergoing the great purge is the re-orientation of thoughts and expectation to the idea of doing more with less.
It seems the hallmark of our current economic situation that many people are going through the process of learing to do more with less. The excess and materialistic culture that seemed to prevail during the 90’s and first decade of this millennium seems now passé and undesirable. Admittedly, some of this change in attitude was not voluntary, but no matter the catalyst, the end result can be very harmonious. Not unlike the feeling of having eaten way too much for too long during the holidays, shedding the excessive consumption of the last years is freeing.
Recently I decided that after two and a half years of constant use, my glasses were boring and I needed a change. Normally, I would have gone to the store, picked out new frames and ordered new glasses. But when I was cleaning out a drawer, I found a stash of past eyewear. They were pretty nice frames and, since my prescription hadn’t changed much, I simply chose a different pair. No fuss, no muss and I didn’t spend a bunch of money. When I get tired of these glasses, I can change to one of the other two pairs I have on hand.
It was kind of a big, sloppy habit to over-consume. Making careful choices about new purchases makes the purchase somehow even more satisfying. Realizing you can forego a purchase because you have something on hand will do is even more satisfying.
How long will this mindset of less is more survive the eventual return of more robust economic times? Does it change one’s expectations forever to go through an economic downturn as we are currently and to learn to do with less? It makes me think of my parents’ generation and all of those who lived through the Great Depression. I think they were forever impacted by the economic tribulations they faced. Will we find that one positive outcome of our current travails is a better, more responsible attitude to consumption? That could only have a positive impact on the environment and on our lives.
Ellie
Jenny