Monthly Archives: November 2008

Come November

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Well, I did it…I survived my first Thanksgiving without my husband…he was actually not by my side last year either…it was a year ago that he enjoyed his last Thanksgiving dinner in his hospital bed. I was dreading the day…fearful that I would shed a lot of tears on my turkey dinner…but, I held off.

My husband always made the best Thanksgiving dinners. We would argue over the menu…sometimes months in advance…about how much food to buy…how many courses to serve…what pies to prepare.

This year, I couldn’t decide which pies to make…so I bought three pies…I bought the pies at a local farmer’s market instead of baking my own. There was cranberry apple pie (my favorite…although, I thought there should have been a bit more tartness with the cranberry accents), blueberry crumb pie (another scrumptious pie), and pecan pie (my son’s favorite). They were delicious pies…only everyone was filled to the brim after the appetizers and multi, multi, multi course dinner. Soooooo, I now have a freezer full of pies.

I missed my husband…oh, how I missed him. Wish he could have been here for Thanksgiving dinner. Thanksgiving was always his holiday…his time to shine. I hope he was watching down on our family on Thursday. I hope he was pleased with our Thanksgiving table of fantastic fare.

I used all the utensils that he bought over the years…the large serving spoon for the stuffing…the large serving fork for the turkey…his favorite gravy boat for the turkey gravy (he bought the gravy boat just for Thanksgiving dinner…I remember when he brought it home…he was so proud when his kitchenware search turned up successful.)

I took out the sprial ham holder that he also purchased one year to hold the Honey-Baked Ham that we serve annually alongside the turkey. I emptied the dining room closet and took out all the holiday serving platters and festive serving bowls that he cherished so much…one for the turkey, one for the salad, one for the roasted vegetables.

My son took care of the hors d’oeuvres…following in his father’s big footsteps (my husband wore size 14 shoes, so my son has BIG steps to fill) he picked out some crusty breads at Whole Foods Market…and bought the artichoke and crab dips we all love…then he brushed the bread slices with olive oil and sprinkled them with kosher salt…put the bread under the broiler…just like his dad used to do. Everything was perfectly prepared…his dad would have been proud.

And when dinner was over…and everyone went home…I washed up the dishes…dried off the serving utensils and platters and bowls…and put them back in the dining room closet. Ready for next year’s Thanksgiving dinner.

While I’m sad my husband is no longer here to celebrate Thanksgiving with me…it is the family rituals (and all the kitchen utensils) that he left me that make this holiday so special. My bereavement counselor was right when she said that as time passes it is the good memories that remain…the good memories we learn to savor…and for that come each November I will have much to be thankful for.

Judi

The True Meaning of Relaxation

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I went to the doctor today. I’ve been having headaches for the past 10 days (Yes, I think I’ve been having these headaches for about 10 days…sometimes I forget…wish I could remember to write down each day I have a headache so when I go to the doctor and she asks me ‘how long have you felt this way?’ or ‘how long have you had this rash or condition?’ I could tell her the actual amount of time.)

“How does it feel when you have the headache?” asked the doctor. “Does it feel like you have tightness around your head?”

“Yes, yes, that is exactly how it feels,” I said…I was so glad she described how I was feeling. I wasn’t sure how to describe what I was feeling…so glad the doctor hit it head on.

“You have tension headaches,” said the doctor, “you need to learn how to relax…maybe go to yoga.”

“I do yoga…I love yoga,” I responded…only as I thought more and more about the last time I went to yoga I couldn’t remember…it had to be about eight days ago…yes, I think it was when I raced to get to the class last Sunday morning at 9:15 am (yes, I said 9:15 am…how did I ever get there at that early hour on a Sunday morning no less)…that was my last yoga class. Shame on me…no wonder I am so tense.

I’m trying hard to learn to relax…but my Type A Body just doesn’t know how. I bought relaxation music at Target. (The CDs are so nice to listen to. Sometimes I listen to the music when I am driving home from work. However, what is not relaxing is trying to figure out how to find the time to read my ‘iPod for Dummies’ crib notes on how to transfer the relaxation music to my iPod. That gives me tension. And then I get even more tension because I really want to learn how to use my new iPod Touch. If I could work my iPod Touch and transfer my relaxation music to my new iPod Touch…then maybe I could relax more. And I could relax even further if I bought an iPod Home, then my relaxation music could relax my entire room.)

Let me see…let me see how the dictionary defines the word ‘relax’:

re·lax [ ri láks ]

1. Spend time at ease: to spend time resting or doing things for pleasure, especially in contrast to or as a relief from the effort and stress of everyday life. (I like this meaning. I can learn to rest and do things for pleasure…I can do this. In fact, this weekend I tried to spend time resting. I decided I was going to start to read Twilight. Only, being the Type A person that I am I decided I was going to try to read the entire book. I want to finish this book by Thursday evening so I can go with my daughter and my niece and my sister-in-law to see the movie. If I see the movie before I finish the book then I won’t want to finish the book. There goes the relaxation…I have a lot of reading to do!)

Are there any other definitions…hmmm…hmmm?

2. make or become looser: to slacken something that is tensed or tight such as a muscle or a grip on something, or become looser, less tense, or less tight (I like this meaning. I can learn to loosen my body. Massage is great for this and I have a great massage therapist. Wow, I really like this definition. My body is always less tense and less tight after a massage. Maybe I should also get a massage chair…and one of those machines that massages my feet…and one for my neck…I saw a bunch of massage items in the Bed, Bath and Beyond catalog…only that store is too stressful…it’s too big…too many aisles and I can never find anything.)

3. make or become less strict: to make something such as a rule less strict or less severe, or become less strict (I need to listen to this definition and ease up on my rules…if I don’t read my daily newspaper or do my weekly laundry on Sunday…it’s okay…yes, it’s okay to change my rules…I’m 50…it is time to make some new rules.)

4. make or become less tense: to become less anxious, hostile, defensive, or formal, or make somebody or something so (Ooh,ooh, this is a biggie…this is a hot button…that’s me…I’m anxious about Thanksgiving…and I was anxious when I got to IKEA yesterday with my daughter as we were shopping for furniture for her new apartment…that store is so big…just like Bed, Bath, and Beyond…I like little stores where you can find things…not BIG stores that make me anxious…I did calm down a bit and relax at IKEA yesterday…especially after the salesperson helped us find the items we were looking for…and I did find some cool furniture that I am eventually going to buy when I learn how to relax more and have more time to set up my home office…after I truly become an empty nester.)

5. make or become less intense: to become less intense and concentrated, or make something less intense and concentrated (I admit it…I admit it…I am an intense person…and I do it to myself. Okay, I’m only going to read as much of Twilight as I can this week and I’m going to see the movie on Thursday night…even if I don’t finish the book…and then I’m going to read another book on my retirement reading list…even though I’m not retired. Wow, wow, wow…the intensity is flowing out of me as I write…I’m going to make myself less intense…I’m going to relax!)

6. straighten hair: to weaken or remove the curl from hair, usually by chemical means (So…soooo…this is it…this is the final definition of relax. I knew it. No wonder I can’t relax. I had curly hair when I was a toddler…I think I was born with curly hair…and now my hair is wavy. Do I have to straighten my hair so I can truly relax??? I have short hair. How am I going to straighten my short hair? I did see that Ulta has a teeny-tiny straightener for sale. I really did want to buy that teeny-tiny straightener when I saw it because I thought it was so cute. Well, if that teeny-tiny hair straightener can help me relax…then I think I’ll definitely have to go buy it…and try it.)

I’m so glad I now know the true meaning of relaxation. I just have to do a better job of bringing all six of these meanings into my life. Yes, I’m going to take the night off. I think I’ll sip a relaxing bowl of chicken soup for dinner…go to yoga…then come home and slowly…slowly read a few more pages of Twilight…while I sip a relaxing cup of Chamomile tea…and hopefully get rid of my tension headache.

Judi

My Technicolor Zebra

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I was looking at the framed poster that sits on the wall in my office. It’s a poster I bought almost 30 years ago when I saw it on a bus stop in New York City. It was from The School of Visual Arts. I took the poster home and I framed it. It was (and continues to be one of my favorite posters). I put it up in my apartment. And then I moved out of New York City. And then I got married.

My husband didn’t like the poster. “Why do we need this silly poster up in the house?,” I remember him saying, “There’s a colorful striped zebra on the poster…I don’t like it.”

So, I took the poster to my new office…my new office in New Jersey. What my husband didn’t understand at the time was that the saying on the poster was what had meaning to me. Yes, I liked the colorful zebra…it is actually a rainbow zebra…but, it was the words on the poster that inspired me …yes, it was those few simple words that I read each day that were the catalyst to my brilliant career over the past 25 years.

“To be good is not enough, when you dream of being great.”

Those are the 12 words I have recited each day for the past 25 years as I entered my office. Why should I just be good…when I dream of being great?

Maybe that is why my colleagues called me ‘Souper Judi’ when they honored me last week at my 25 year anniversary with my company. I’ve always gone above and beyond in my job…looked for the next ‘big idea’…tried harder…searched farther…read more…worked longer hours…reached higher.

“To be good is not enough, when you dream of being great.”

Am I ‘Souper Judi’ because of those 12 words? Hmm…hmm…hmm..has a zebra with rainbow stripes been driving me to perfection all these years?

“To be good is not enough, when you dream of being great.”

Now that I am 50 is it time to take the poster off the wall? Is it time to put my rainbow zebra in the closet…or perhaps donate him to my twentysomething mentees? (notice I said him…I always thought of my zebra as a him…maybe it has to do with my generation and the glass ceiling…I hope my mentees will think of my zebra as a her).

“To be good is not enough, when you dream of being great.”

I cleaned out my closet the other week when I was on vacation. I donated a lot of my old clothes to those less fortunate who are starting out in their careers. I gave away my bright red silk suit that I wore to many memorable press events…and the brown tweed jacket that is now two sizes larger than my current frame…and I parted with the teal wide leg pants that were a popular color two years ago…and the flared black skirt…the skirt my husband always said made me look like I belonged on an Amish farm.

My closet is much neater now…much more organized. At 50 I’m finally starting to see things more clearly now…perhaps more black and white…like my favorite black and white cookies.

Should I have donated my zebra poster to those less fortunate who are starting out in their careers?

But…but…but…I still like rainbow sherbet…and I also like rainbow sprinkles on my ice cream…and I do love the song “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” (although I never liked The Wizard of Oz…not when I was little and not now…the Wicked Witch is just too scary).

I guess I can’t give my rainbow zebra poster away…I’m not ready yet…it made me who I am today…and might just be the spark that sets my second career in motion some day. I may be 50, but I still have a rainbow full of dreams to accomplish. As my rainbow zebra says…

“To be good is not enough, when you dream of being great.”

Judi

More Trees In My Life

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Besides my ‘Family’ tree, I have many other trees in my life.

The landscaper paid a visit the other day to talk to me about my trees. He stopped by to also discuss my bamboo situation in my beautiful backyard…to count how many and exactly which branches of bamboo he is going to cut down…cut down before the many bamboo branches take over my backyard.

“It’s not a good situation,” said the landscaper, “This bamboo is getting out of hand and could soon work it’s way across the yard…you would not want that to happen.”

“No I would not want that to happen,” I agreed. “And look at this beautiful Japanese Red Maple tree…look what the bamboo is doing to my beautiful Japanese Red Maple tree,” I added, “The big bamboo branches are sucking it dry.”

“That Japanese Red Maple tree has undergone a lot of stress from the bamboo and drought,” said the landscaper as he examined the branches. “It has canker sores…it is under stress…do you know what I mean?” said the landscaper.

“Know what you mean…know what you mean? I am the queen of canker sores. I get canker sores whenever I am stressed out.” I wanted to scream…yet instead, I just nodded my head and said, “Yes, yes, I know what you mean, I know exactly what you mean.”

And as though he were seeing through me and not the tree, the landscaper continued, “That tree needs to be nourished. It needs to be taken care of…it needs nutrients. But, I think with some tender loving care we should be able to revive it this spring and help it get stronger.”

“Tender loving care, nourishment,” it sounds like my Japanese Maple tree is a metaphor for me…it’s gone through an inordinate amount of stress…been sucked dry and now it needs some tender loving care…needs nourishment…yep, sounds just like someone I know well whose name happens to start with a capital ‘J’ and ends with a little ‘i’.

“The other two maples need to come down,” said the landscaper as he surveyed the large maple trees that are cutting into the foundation near my basement steps. “One is hollow inside and showing it’s age and the other skinny maple is not a great tree either. I would advise they come down to prevent any potential branch or tree stump from falling on your house and doing significant damage.”

“Absolutely,” I agreed. “It is time to cut down the hollowed out maple tree and the skinny one too…I don’t want any trees cutting into my foundation. I don’t want to ever be in bed with two maple trees, which is exactly where they would fall if they decided to drop any time soon. No trees in my bed, thank you very much! “Let’s get rid of them pronto,” I replied. “Cut them both down as soon as you can.”

The landscaper marked the 25 bamboo branches that will be coming down in the next few weeks. And he hung red ribbons around the two trees that will be gone before Thanksgiving.

As I attended my yoga class later in the week, I felt free of the heavy trees and extra bamboo branches that have been weighing down on my life and weighing down on the other beautiful trees in my backyard.

“We’re going to do the tree position today,” said my yoga teacher. “It’s time to stand tall…like a strong tree,” she said.

I was ready to stand tall. Ready to be my own tree. First, I straightened my left leg and brought my right leg to my knee. Steady…steady…you can do this…I said to myself. Then I straightened my right leg and brought my left leg to my knee. Steady…steady…you can do this side too…I told myself. My core was tight…as I wavered a bit back and forth…I tried to hold onto each position a little bit longer.

I’m getting better I thought…getting a little bit better each time I try my tree stance. One day…one day…I’m going to be a very strong tree…and with a little extra nourishment and tender loving care…my branches and my core are definitely going to get stronger so I can be a beautiful tree.

Judi

My Family Tree

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I love visiting my mom. I especially like to listen to her stories. Sometimes the stories are so entertaining they sound like a television mini-series or a historic documentary. Most of all, I love to hear her stories because they are the stories that make up my family tree.

And so, as we sat at my mom’s favorite Florida deli to share a hot corned beef sandwich (and splurged on cholesterol-ladden French fries too)…and as we sat at our ‘not so favorite anymore’ Olive Garden (it used to be a favorite, but since they overcooked my mom’s steak and gave her a plate of cold roasted potatoes instead of hot roasted potatoes that she had to send back to be reheated, the Olive Garden is now eliminated from my mom’s list of favorite dining spots. “No more Olive Garden,” said mom, “even if they provide a $4.00 off coupon.”)…and as we enjoyed a cup of hot coffee, bowl of onion soup and some sandwiches on tasty bread at Panera Bread…my mom shared her stories.

I listened intently as she talked about her dad…the grandfather I never met. She didn’t really get to know her dad since he died of kidney disease when she was only 18 months old. (It made me think of my children. How lucky my son was to have 18 years with his dad and my daughter 22.) My mom was too young to remember her dad…but her mom told her the stories and now she was sharing the stories of his life with me.

“Grandfather came to the United States during World War I,” said my mom. “He immigrated from Poland.” “And your Nana arrived from what was then Austria and Hungary.”

“Grandfather started a clothing business on the Lower East Side in Manhattan.” My mom described how he made children’s coats, using the pattern-cutting skills that he had acquired in Poland.

“They lived in a tiny apartment behind the store,” said my mom. “Nana said they used to sleep on chairs with Down comforters that they had brought from Europe.” Business was good and all went well…until my Grandfather got sick and his kidneys stopped working. He and my Nana never realized how serious his illness was and unfortunately it took his life at an early age.

My Grandfather’s business partner bought out the business and left my Nana with very little to live on. She had four young children to raise on her own. My mom was the youngest. “It was not easy,” said my mom. “Nana was very afraid that they would take her children away to live in a foster home…that’s what they did in those days.”

My Nana went on welfare for awhile until her father (my great-grandfather) and my mom’s aunt (my great-aunt) moved in with the family to help them financially. Yes, times were tough.

“At first, we had no refrigerator,” my mom recalled, “there was a man who used to bring us ice to keep our food cold…he was a real iceman. I remember when we got our first refrigerator. It was so exciting. We were able to make our own ice and even make homemade ice cream.”

“We didn’t have a television. We used to listen to the radio and occasionally go to the movies when we had an extra dime…yes, an extra dime. It was a treat to go visit your great aunt L who had a television. We would all sit around in the living room and watch the Milton Berle Comedy Hour,” mom said.

“We had very little growing up,” mom added, “I didn’t have my own room. I had to share a bedroom with Nana and my sister. But, our home was always bustling with kids. My best friend D used to come over all the time because we had a big family (my mom had an older sister and two older brothers). We used to play stick ball outside on the street. It was so much fun.”

By the time my mom’s two older brothers were grown, it was World War II and they enlisted. After they returned from the war, mom’s oldest brother became an architect and her younger brother a carpenter. Each of the family members married and the family tree continued to expand.

How different life was almost a century ago…yes, how different life was almost 100 years ago when my grandparents came to this country.

I wonder if my kids will want to hear my stories when I am a grandma (or a nana)(hopefully…not now…but some day). I hope we will reminisce about my husband and about my parents (their grandparents). And maybe they will look up this blog post so they can learn about their extended family tree.

Yes, I’ll tell them I voted in the historic election the day the first African American President Obama was elected. In fact, I put away my New York Times to save for my grand kids…it will be a fabulous memento since there likely will no longer be any hard-copy newspapers when it’s time for me to tell my stories…and hopefully…yes…hopefully, when it is time for me to tell my stories…I’ll remember where I put that darn newspaper.

Judi