Retirement and Reunions

Tonight was a reunion of sorts as my former cable TV colleagues came together to celebrate the retirement of one of our own. The building had bloated to four times the size it was when I worked there 18 years ago (kinda like me). It was odd returning to a building in which I spent so many years growing into my professional self, only to feel out of place. Lucky for me, the whole (mostly female) management team from my era were there to help our friend close out a chapter and usher her onto the next. We squealed happily (our male colleague grunting) wrapping our arms around one another, telling each other that we hadn't changed a bit and excitedly catching up on our lives.

I had the unique privilege to work so many years ago on a management team consisting of 5 women and 2 men - unheard of at that time in the male dominated pole climbers cable TV industry. There was a spirit of cooperation and support as we helped one another become successful in meeting our goals. We disagreed and debated but at the end of the day it was a safe environment and we were there for one another, with our relationships rooted in friendship. Even more importantly - we had FUN while getting it done.

Our general manager at the time (who has since passed on) told us to look around and remember -  because the exceptional, magical dream team experience would never be duplicated. And it wasn't.

There were dignitaries, former and current olleagues, family members, friends and event the corporate big wigs who had flown in for the event. The cafeteria had been transformed in to an elegant lounge complete with live entertainment, candles, a bar, a delicious spread and a stage with a ginormous screen shot of our friend. There were slick posters with photo essays of her illustrious, colourful career. And then she sat in a comfy chair on the stage as a parade of her past and present estolled their good wishes upon her. I couldn't help but blurt out that this was exactly like a living eulogy -- a funeral before the death. And it made me happy that she got to hear the wonderful things people think about her and how she impacted them. Most of us never will for we live in a society that hangs onto our great speeches until they will not be heard by the one who would enjoy them the most. Maybe we need to rethink that and create such opportunities to share "in life".
It's been a good night. It was rich in memory excavation, reconnection, reunions and a reminder of the exceptional companions I have had along the way on this incredible journey that is my life. And for that I am truly grateful.

Thirty Year Throwback

At first glance, they are group of strangers; middle aged, graying people with the trials and tribulations of their lives scored into their foreheads and around their mouths. I scan the photos eagerly, searching for recognition, clues of identity that thirty years of absence have buried.

I haven't seen these faces of my college classmates for three decades, and now they smile back at me from tagged images on Facebook. I try to zoom in to read the the blurred name tags on their chests, to no avail. Why can't I recognize anyone? Have I forgotten that I too am a middle aged woman? I click furiously through the photos trying desperately to find the boyish looks that I remember in the grown men before me. Then I get a break -- and make a connection -- oops - that was my "ex". I finally come across some photos with tags. Why is it the minute you see the name, the face becomes instantly recognizable? The image in front of you is supplanted by the one you remember.

I had an easier time with the women. My friend Imbi still had the long deep dimples in her rosy cheeks and Melissa was the same serene beauty she was way back when. It made me a little sad that I had missed the reunion. I often wonder how everyone's lives turned out. We stoked some big dreams thirty years ago and there was an eternal stream of optimism. We left one another, draft scripts in hand, yet to be played out.

Judging from what I could tell,  most are enjoying a good run. And there is something satisfying and pleasing in seeing our youthful idealism and ambition cloaked in a softer, wiser (and maybe a little larger) frame. It's kind of like learning how the story turned out. It's all good (and I have a few new Facebook friends).

Meatless Mondays

Green, green, what does it mean -- to me, us?

We are lucky in that our community has a green conscience and they make it easy to be eco-responsible. They make home composts and rain barrels available at a low cost and they provide green bins to residents to collect food scraps as well as the beloved blue boxes for recycling. As a family we delight in flattening cans, gathering cardboard and even tin foil for the bins. We really need to get out more. The downside is the unsightly stainless steel compost bowl heaped with veggie scraps that is perched on our counter until it is emptied every day.

There's nothing quite as appetizing as the wafting aromas from the fermenting organic material when you are cooking. That'd make anyone green. Hubby has really gotten with the program and I noticed over the past few months that he has really stepped it up --even chasing down dryer sheets, toilet paper rolls (wait til it's empty please) and used tissues. We even replaced our paper towels usage with a slew of white bar towels. It's a mission to only put one garbage bag to the curb every two weeks.

Now we're starting a new tradition in our house -- meatless Mondays. And it was his idea. He is really taking an interest in the health of our planet and coming up with all sorts of ways we can help reduce the harm we cause. He suggested that we start with meatless Mondays to ease our consumption of meat. That clapping is the sound of cows high-fiving and chickens clucking all over the planet.

Nothing is more attractive to me than a person with principles, who is living them. I am enjoying that feeling when you are united in purpose, as well as in love.

Now that being said - that compost bowl looks like it needs emptying.

Second Chances

It's been an emotional day. I went with MIH to meet her first mom for only the second time. First Mom lives a few hours away and we were meeting up to take her to lunch as a celebration of her 75th birthday. On the drive out there our casual chit chat couldn't mask the underlying smorgasbord of emotion. What to expect? What to ask? What to feel? So many questions -- how will this new family intersect with the existing family - if at all?

MIH was warm but a little guarded when First Mom opened the door and hugged her. First Mom seemed smaller in person that her picture. I watched MIH intently to see how she was reacting to all of this. I found it mind boggling ... We sat with First Mom for a while in her home and I couldn't resist asking a few questions about MIH's first father and brothers. The pain on First Mom's face was evident but her eyes sparkled with hope. MIH's eyes were perpetually brimming - with an occasional rogue tear escaping.
Naked truth. First Mom was brave and honest as she described her life and choices. MIH was equally honest as she in turn described the life she had lead with her adopted parents. It occurred to me that I was witnessing a second chance for these beautiful strong women. There is time. First Mom was so young when she had MIH - that she is only 17 years older. As they exchanged stories and tried to compress 53 years of life into 2 hours I couldn't help but note the similarities between them. I couldn't resist the occasional enthusiastic "MIH does that too!"

Both women are warm and somewhat reserved -- maybe cautious is the better word. They have faced personal challenges and longed for that which they were missing. They share an attitude of living choices - and choosing attitudes. Both did the best they could and made the most of the circumstances they were handed. Neither time nor space has prohibited the seedlings of familiarity from taking root. Family.

Sharing. Acceptance. Empathy. Forgiveness. Second chances. What a gift!

Farewells and Reunions

Today my sister and I dropped our parents off at the airport for their flight back to Florida. Luckily we were all busy unloading luggage, hugging goodbye, and exchanging last minute instructions - which removed the emotional teary quotient from our farewell. I usually get a lump the size of Alaska in my throat when I have to say goodbye to Pops and the family. I just swallowed it whole and kept my mind busy. I just wasn't up for sadness. But when I drive by and their house is dark, and no one to hear my honk .... : (

The drive home - which included a border crossing (and a lengthy wait) - gave my sister and I a rare opportunity for uninterrupted chatter. Not that we need an excuse but still, it was a nice treat.

Tomorrow I am taking a road trip of another sort with MIH. I know she has great anxieties about it but in my heart I know she will make a memory tomorrow that will become a treasure for her to cherish always. She is going to celebrate her first mom's 75th birthday by taking her to lunch and I know that no matter what, that will be the best gift her first mom will get this year. And they both have waited a lifetime for it.