Another Father's Day

I remember never wanting to learn to drive. If you think about it, with Mom and Dad on call as able chauffeurs, who could blame me for my reticense? As with anything I did not want to do, I now recognize that my reluctance was always the product of an element of fear that multi-coloured my opinions and driving had the highest panic quotient of all the scary unknown realms that seemed to spread out endlessly before me. There was swimming across the lake, jumping off the high board at age 7, playing the piano for guests, (see major shyness here) staying home alone (as the token adult) at 16and being responsible for my three younger sibs,looking over my parents last will and testament before the trip that saw me left as the chief caregiver etc etc. Who wants to look at their parents' legal papers 'in case' something bad happens to them? Definitely not me as I always feared losing them and no not because I feared being left to raise a little sister and two brothers. I must have been fear-filled as a child which could not have sat well with Dad who was fearless personified. I think it is therefore quite understandable then that his parenting syle became more focussed on the bravery aspect of the child; and not just for me, but for my sibs as well. When force teaching my litle sister to drive the family motor boat he lulled her into a false sense of security by promising not to leave her alone in the boat, yet as soon as she took the wheel he grabbed his water ski and jumped into the lake. Baptism by fire, or she learned by necessity, it doesn't change the fact that she learned against her will, but she is now a confident ski-tower thanks to our father. I am sure that today, so many years later, she realizes that without his 'help' there would be one less item scratched off her 'fear list'. Now back to my driving dilemma...I tried really hard to avoid getting into the drivers seat of the old family station wagon, but one day my luck ran out and there I was. With Dad sitting by my side I was told to "DRIVE" and not just drive, but once my ability to navigate a straight line and simple turns was established, the command FAST was added to the mix of instructions. I remember arriving at my first red stop sign with a tremendous sense of relief; now I could stop and stop I did..for several minutes until Dad informed me that contrary to what my obvious perception of a stop sign was, it was "not a hotel" and I needed to move right along. So much for a reprieve from the rigeurs of driving fast. As soon as possible Dad had me on the highways where there were no stop signs so basically it was full speed ahead. I remember gaining confidence through the months that followed until the day of a hale storm when Iwas on my way to Vermont on my own. I pulled over to call Dad to say I couldn't see a thing because my wipers couldn't go as fast as the percipitation was pelting, thinking he would say good move, wait it out, WRONG! Dad's instruction was to get back on the road and drive through it". I couldn't have known then, how valuable that order would prove to be in the years to come. Somewhere deep inside I knew that Dad believed I could do it. So do it I did. In the eternity that has passed since those days the one constant that remains is Dad's conviction that we his kids could do anything we wanted or tried to do as long as the effort was there. The message was to try it all, and allow no fear to enter into the equation. I would gladly go back to that first day in Old Betsy, and to hear Dad say: :You can do it!"
Happy Father's Day Daddy. How could four kids be so lucky? You know the answer!!

The Pressure Is Off

What an odd sensation it is to finally be able to let go of something that has shaped our year in a not so good way. Funny how quickly we can learn to live with an elephant sitting on our ribcage and still somehow manage to get through the day to days undetected as a fraud; that is in the sense that while externally it appears as if all is well in our little world, the reality is quite the opposite. Then almost imperceptively the switch happens and in the final analysis it seems that that switch back from stress to non-stress occurs with a surprisingly seamless transition, so much so that it involves a major paradigm shift in order to realize and accept that the elephant is gone. Suddenly you can sleep unassisted by whatever vice you chose to get you through 10 months of Nuits Blanches. You can actually take deep breaths without feeling any elephantine protests. You now present your 'old' self, the truer more honest version of you to all you come into contact with, and strangely people are none the wiser.
All this goes to show that you can get away with misrepresentation after all and there is no recrimination involved. Furthermore, the ultimate reward is that you experience an incredible surge of power probably just like an actor must feel after turning in a brilliant performance.

61

I thought last year that turning 60 was at the very least, quite surreal but those feelings pale as I slide into 61. I am left wondering how this could have happened especially when I don't think I am ready for it at all. This being said, I must confess that all protestations are in my head not in my body which seems to be humming steadily toward SENIORHOOD!!I do not feel a waning in the energy department yet I do now have hearing difficulties which are at best extrememly annoying and which I believed were a direct result of riding in airplanes in the full throes of a sinus infection, but after a month..what if that is not the case? What if the truth is that my hearing defeciency is due to age advancement? Is it time to retire to Florida when my faulty hearing cannot even discern which elevator doors will open when I hear the ding announcing its arrival on my floor, ( seemingly from afar..) and have to move quickly up and down the corridor to locate the appropriate car? Is this then 61? Is not being able to respond to a speaker on my right side, or not sensing anyone's presence on the same side something I will simply have to find a way to live with? There would be no question in my mind if the title of this blog was 50, and it boggles the mind that a mere 11 years can totally alter my perspective on aging, but that is exactly what has happened. I also have doubts that a small birthday cake would be able to accommodate 62 candles nevermind the fact that blowing that many out on my own is most probably a pipe dream. Oh well, I can always use the excuse that I hate cake and avoid at least one of the pitfalls of growing up!

Going South

Haven't gone away during March Break for years..not since the kids were small, and now unexpectedly I find that I am going to fly to the place of palm trees, sandy beaches, swimming pools and bright sunny days. I am thinking that with all our recent precipitation, I need to have a super duper powerful pair of sunglasses to prevent having difficulty when engaging in anything ambulatory. I will not need to avoid puddles anymore than I will need to beware of slush and/or black ice, all of which can be a shock to the eyes and to the feet as well. How foolish would I look stepping high to avoid the obvious and flat paved surfaces? My feet will have to feel their way around the sand and this will be done in the absence of the cloddy boots I have worn non-stop since December. I will need to leave the heavy parka, scarf, hat and mitts behind and get reacquainted with the lighter version of myself who can just walk out the door in jeans and a tee shirt. I wonder how I will fare with all those extra layers suddenly gone. I could easily blow away were a sudden sou'wester to come from out of nowhere and I am wondering how best to anchor myself so I do not feel out of my winter element. Flying into the same time zone does not of course result in any manner of jet lag, but what about jet 'perception'? The truth is that this is certainly a going concern when flying south from a home which is still under the thumb of Old Man Winter. I am going to do some research now to find out what to do to avoid this side affect, then I will be flying south better equipped to deal with the sudden shock of beautiful summery weather.

Say What You Have To Say

Yesterday a 'friend' at work decided to accept a position in another company. No, my friend wasn't looking to make any major changes in his life, but when he was given his assignment for 2011-12, he found that leaving was the only option, given that his new assignment was totally implausible and quite ridiculous. While you may be wondering if my friend had delusions of his own importance and if ego played a part in his decision, let me assure you that this is the farthest thing from the truth. The real story is that my friend, the voice of reason and sanity in our workplace has been a veritable thorn in our new boss' side. We his colleagues who while not utter buffoons, have nothing on our colleague's brain power and so it fell to him to be our conscience, to keep it all on the straight and for our boss, too narrow. When you work with a group of people who are easily divided ergo easily conquered, that old model of 'uber boss' is able to thrive and march on unchecked in her quest to ensure that her underlings tow whatever party-line said boss espouses and woe be to anyone who dares to point out even one single sensible,humane and palpable alternative. It matters not at all that the 'pointing out' is always done 'respectfully' the boss does not do well with any type of stop gap checks so now you will understand how my friend met his fate. Under the 'umbrella' of "there's nothing I can do" about your job, my hands are tied, my friend was effectively forced out. Talk about feeling powerless...it is interesting that my friend had no power to change anything anymore than his colleagues and I had any power to change anything. The only one with the power is our boss who absolutely did have multiple options available but chose instead to be cruelly 'creative' when offering my friend a position which was not only nonsensical, it was also nowhere close to being in his field of expertise. We all know that our boss has confidence issues but at some point even she needs to admit that she will never have enough digits to plug all the holes she perceives. The bottom line is the saddest of all. We lose an invaluable member of our crew, and I lose the joy of having him be part of my day to day life at work. Now that I am older, I see some things a little differently. I no longer believe that we can change every important outcome if we speak out and make our true and valid points. I do however feel the need to express what I feel and to make those true and valid statements. I am not afraid of fallout nearly as much as I fear not saying what in my heart I know needs to be said.

Never

Haven't we all at some point or other been advised against using the word 'never'? That almost over-used warning; "never say never" is all too often an admonishment, should we slip, and after years of brainwashing I know that whenever I dare to use it, I feel a tiny pang of worry. I do not worry about the actual use of the word, I do however worry that I will not be able to do it justice once it has left my lips. If I cannot redeem myself and stick to my guns then why bother to speak at all? I can swear off late night eating and say that I will never again have that last bowl of ice cream prior to lights out, but can I stick to my word? I can say that I will never be overly critical of anyone I work with but that is purely good intent and definitely not etched in stone no matter how emphatically I might have said it. I can say that I will not bother with anyone who has revealed themselves to be ultra selfish, but to say that I will never speak to them again is far from the sublime..it is in fact much closer to the ridiculous. I can say that I will never go to bed angry and never wake up still angry but everyone knows that upon leaving the heaviness of deep sleep there is too little control to make that 'never' stick. In short, after much reflection which I 'never' really like to engage in, there seems to be only a few 'nevers' in my life that are genuine and true and I am actually glad about this. I recognize that in fact I can say it and mean it when I say I will never climb Mt. Kilimanjaro, I can mean it when I say that I will never bungee jump anymore than I will dance ballet or sing opera, but I cannot say never to karaoke, as I may revisit that one although until recently, karaoke was well protected under the never umbrella. Now you've guessed it..my never realm is inhabited by a multitude of things which frighten me.They will remain there until/unless I can find a way back to fearless, when I NEVER said never.

A Close Family

We always say that our family of 5 is close and gets along with the minimum of fuss and/or angst. We supposedly do not meddle and have been known to be diplomatic when trying to offer support rather than speaking the words that oftentimes race across our minds depending upon the situation. None of us live in the same city, actually only 3 are in the same country but this does not prevent our consistent telephone connection no matter the time difference or price of long distance calling. After all, with family money is no object. This past year one of us has placed himself in what the others consider a precarious social condition. At first we did the diplomacy thing but it did not have the desired effect so little by little we became more succinct about our opinions and suggestions. We stopped just short of an all out FIGHT (anathema to our CLOSE family!!) and still we could not convince him to make the necessary modifications. We found ourselves in uncharted territory. What to do when all plans fail and the sib in question insists on wallowing in the mire? We find ourselves with no choice but to withdraw from the normal week to week sharing sessions and believe me, this is no mean feat given our familial norms. We do a complete rollback and we cease communications in Toto. Surprisingly, while this does not solve the problem for our sib, it is exactly what the doc ordered for us! Suddenly we are no longer feeling those pangs in the pits of our stomachs that are the by-products of worry. With each passing week of no 'new' information, we get stronger and the quilt of guilt (for not having been able to help)that we had become used to wearing, seems to be disintegrating. What becomes apparent as time goes by is that a truly 'close' family is one whose members rarely speak!