Sparking the Spirit

When I was a kid, I accepted that my grandmother, who loved a clean house, had a small, ceramic Christmas tree on a table in her living room.  It was a Christmas tree, so there was acknowledgement of the holiday, and also acknowledgement that her children were grown and the primary reasons, as far as I could see, for anyone to have an elaborate tree, had grown up and moved away, creating little reasons for trees of their own.

Like so many things in life, I never imagined I’d not have a Christmas tree in my house.

2012 was a very challenging year for me on many levels.  Among so many other things going on, I felt overwhelmed by the notion of dragging out the Christmas decorations, trying to decide between tree options (live that could be replanted, live that was giving its life for our amusement, and fake), and decorating the tree. 

You need to understand, too, that my kids are very creative and every year, decorating the Christmas tree is NOTHING like in the movies.  At our house, it turns into a constant, fluid, flowing set of skits, rifts, impromptu roasts, and sometimes-hysterical chaos.  So yeah, I wasn’t up for it in 2012.

But at the last minute, two nights before Christmas eve, I was enveloped by a sense of nostalgia and guilt.  How many times did my parents not feel like “doing Christmas?” I wondered.  So in the freezing cold we drove to the place we always got our trees and in the howling wind, I pointed to a pathetic foot-tall thing and insisted we get it into the trunk.  The kids protested.  I overrode them.

We got the poor relative of the Charlie Brown Christmas tree into the living room and I hand-selected the few ornaments that were so special that it wouldn’t be Christmas without them.  Then we attempted to decorate the little bastard.

“Ow!”

“Ouch! Damn it.”

“Son of a bitch!”

“I told you this tree would suck!”

“What the hell?”

Apparently, the tree was part cactus.  We were literally bleeding all over it trying to put the ornaments on.

We laughed so hard we were now crying on the Cactus-mas tree. 

Game over. 

We left the ornaments on that we managed to airlift and drop onto the sickly branches and called it quits.

Then, in 2013, we were in our new home.  We went to the Christmas tree farm and picked out a beauty.  A cut tree, 8’ tall.  Picked it out in 3 minutes flat.  It was perfect.  It was placed neatly in “the perfect spot” in our living room and remained up for several days after Christmas.  It was so pretty.

And then came 2014.  It has been a crazy, roller coaster year.  Mostly good, but not all good, and certainly even the good was not streamlined.  It’s been a year of learning, let’s leave it at that.  Translation: it’s been an exhausting year.

So I asked the kids (who are 19 and 22), do you care if we don’t have a tree this year?  I mean, I’ll get a little tree in a plant stand so there’s “a tree” but do you care?  I texted this question so they replied in kind.  “No, we don’t care.”

Except they did care.  So on December 19^th, they both said they thought it over and really wanted there to be a tree here. 

But you have a tree at your dad’s house, isn’t’ that enough?

No, we need a place to put all the presents, and we need it to be under a tree.

“Do you care if it’s real or fake?”

“No, but it can’t be that 12” thing you tried to pawn off on us in 2013.  It has to be tree height, not a pseudo bush.”

Marc volunteered to go to the storage unit where he was convinced we had a fake tree.  He returned with a big plastic box marked “Fielding Christmas” but there was no tree.  “Hon, I think we sold it at the garage sale,” he offered.  I told him I thought he was right.

“Can you just go to the store and pick up a small, table-top, fake tree,” I asked him.

“Sure, I’ll do that,” he said.

So on Sunday, December 21, I woke up and emptied out the plastic box of its Christmas decorations, placing them just in the kitchen, dining room, and living room, sparing the rest of the house.  I was pleasantly surprised that Marc had brought my two favorite decorations:  the 3 wise men and a ceramic reindeer.  The two things that I would feel badly about not having up at the holidays, despite my apathy.

And strangely, the Christmas spirit started to take root.

I worked for a few hours in my studio and when I came down, I noticed Marc had bought the two remaining grab bag gifts we needed for my brother’s house.  I thanked him, and then he said, “Did you see the tree?”  I’d completely forgotten that I’d asked him to pick it up.  I figured it would be in a box for me to inspect.  Nope.  He’d put the little tree up on the living room table in the same bay window where the massive tree had stood the year before.  He’d decorated it and put a pretty tree blanket beneath it, covering the tabletop.  I was so strangely gleeful.  I said, oh, you decorated it too.  Thanks for putting the decorations in the bag on the tree too.

He looked perplexed.

You know, the ornaments in the bag in the plastic box.

Still he looked puzzled.

Then I looked more closely. The ornaments were just simple silver balls.  So I thanked him and went to the plastic box and pulled out the ornaments in a small gift bag.  Just a fraction of the many ornaments we’d collected over the years.  And here’s the Christmas miracle part…the ornaments that he’d put in the bag were my very favorite ornaments:  the bumble bee, the wire heart, the rose heart, the ornaments with the kids’ names on them, and probably my favorite, a dough wreath with a photo of my favorite pet ever, Addison, the boxer I had when I was first married.  That ornament was a gift from two of my colleagues at work.  It was the one thing, besides the reindeer and the wise men, that I was feeling badly about not having in the house for Christmas.  And now, there it was on the tiny tree in the window.

I’m reading a lot about being and staying balanced, and trying very hard (seems oxymoronic) to balance my chakras, particularly the first and second ones.  At Christmas time, I was feeling stressed and trying to calm myself by taking things one step at a time and trying to choose wisely between what had to get done and what I could live without.

How grateful I am that the man who means the world to me knew me better than I knew myself.  That in simply simplifying the madness of the holiday season down to a few decorations, a tiny tree, and a handful of ornaments, I could reclaim my vitality and a sense of joyfulness in the world around me. 

I now understand what my grandmother knew all those years ago:  the longer you live, the less you need to rekindle the Christmas spirit.  You just need a few special sparks.

I'm Terribly Sorry

A friend’s father passed away Monday, so on Wednesday I ordered a gift tower of breakfast treats from Harry & David to be delivered on Friday when she and her husband had people staying at their home.

On Friday, I received a call from Harry & David telling me they were sorry, but there was a delay and the gift tower would be there on Saturday morning instead. Was that okay? I said it was.

On Friday evening, I received a voice mail from Harry & David. There was also an email.

The voice mail asked me to call because they needed more information to process the order. The email said the gift tower was no longer available. Which was correct? Keep reading…

I called and was told that they were “terribly sorry” but the gift tower was indeed still available and would ship out “expedited” at their expense for arrival on Monday or Tuesday. [That means Tuesday.]

I said that was unacceptable, as my friends’ family members would be gone by then and now I had to go out [time expense] to purchase something for them to replace what Harry & David had promised to take care of for me. She said she was “terribly sorry.”

I said that I didn’t understand the repeated delays. That’s when she shared “what really happened.” Make sure you’re sitting down because this is good…

To paraphrase this robot who kept repeating sorry-ness on behalf of Harry & David, “You see, we’re on the west coast and that’s where the package is. But the sympathy cards, well, there are no more here, they’re on the east coast. So we’re waiting to get them here so we can ship out the order.”

I said, “Are you kidding me? So you mean to tell me that at Harry & David there is no one who could take a piece of paper that looks anything like a card, write the note I typed into the computer form, and send it in the package?”

“No,” was her response.

“So Harry & David would rather disappoint a customer, i.e., me, who orders from you quite frequently, than to take the extra step to fashion an expression of sympathy to go in the package.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” was the response.

“Okay then you leave me no alternative. You don’t sound ‘terribly sorry’ and I have no confidence that the package will ever arrive, so please cancel the order and send me an email confirmation so I know this has been done.”

“Yes, I can do that,” said the robot, and she added, according to her program, “I’m terribly sorry.”

“Well, I will be saying something about this online and I won’t be ordering from you anymore because it’s not just the package that didn’t get there on time. It was the way I chose to express my condolences and the timing of that expression that I was entrusting to Harry & David —that’s what I purchased. I was counting on you to deliver on your responsibility, and you didn’t. I now longer trust Harry & David and won’t be purchasing from you anymore.”

“I understand and I’m terribly sorry,” the robot said as we hung up.

By the way, there was no offer of anything monetary to express apology for the botched order. In fairness, it wouldn’t have changed my mind, but for the record, there was no offer to go along with being “terribly sorry.”

The cancellation email didn’t arrive so I called the next day. Another customer service person cheerfully said she would send the confirmation email and apologized for it not getting to me.

“Did you get it yet? I just sent it,” she said.

“No.”

“Wait a few seconds, it should be there.”

“Nope.”

“A few seconds more, any second now…”

“Nope.”

I said I’d look for it later. Perhaps it was trying to sync up with the east coast system to make friends with the sympathy cards there.

After 20 minutes I called back and another customer service person apologized for my frustrations (this one seemed to actually understand that all of this was costing me time) and said that she had to go talk with a supervisor, because they don’t actually have a cancellation email.

When she returned to the call, she said her supervisor would send a customized cancellation email that would look like an order but would say “Cancellation” in it. I could hardly wait.

This person offered me 20% off my next order because apparently if you have to call because of issues, you get a discount she told me. I reminded her I wouldn’t be ordering from them again.

In 5 minutes the “customized” cancellation email arrived.

Harry & David, I’m terribly sorry for your loss.


Post Script:  Got a lovely box of truffles from Harry & David today (12/22/14).  No note inside but the label on the outside said "With our apologies, Harry & David."  Well that was classy.  I accept, Harry & David, but I don't want to waste a perfectly good post so it will stay along with this P.S.

A Mole by Any Other Name

What's that on my neck?

I've had skin tags for as long as I can remember. When I was about 45, I started to get red spots too. Today, a black mole appeared on my neck where nothing had been yesterday.

Quick, to the bat cave. Google it. Black mole.

WebMD: Melanoma can take the form of dark colored, flat, irregular moles.

Is it flat?

Wait, there was a mark on my leg the other day. I thought it was a bruise.

Oh no! I shouldn't have joked when my daughter asked what the mole on my stomach was when we were sharing a room in NYC the other night. I laughed and said it was a tick that had to fall off by itself and I keep forgetting to put Vaseline on it. Her horrified look made me laugh and shift gears, "Rach, it's just a mole."

But now "just a mole" is not so funny. Because there's a new, black mole on my neck.

Is it flat? No. Its very rough. What does WebMD say about a new, black, rough mole?

Suddenly a series of doctor visits and procedures flash before my eyes.

What is that on my finger? What? The mole fell off! Am I bleeding? Oh this isn't good.

Wait, it's not a mole, is it? No, it's...just...a piece of something black.

Something that blew off the road while I was driving the convertible this morning.

It's going to be a very different day.

Perspective, what a concept.

"Being" a Woman in the US

The #YesAllWomen posts from last week made me reflect on "being" a woman.

It’s very challenging being a woman in the US, because there’s so much “being” to it. Men just seem to “be” without working so hard at “being.” The messages from our society, filtered in large part by the media, are so mixed for women. Be sexual but don’t be a slut—or a virgin. Be beautiful but don’t focus on your looks. Be brilliant but not too much. Be kind but not a push over. Be strong, but don’t be a bitch, never mind, don’t be strong, you’ll be a bitch. Embrace who you are, but don’t look over 30 doing it. And on and on…

Men just seem to be able to be without any judgment, or far less of it.

Or so it seems right now.

Sadly, In America

I read something that disturbed me very much this morning. It was a news story about a New Mexican woman who was coming back to the US in December 2013 who was (allegedly) repeatedly strip searched and sexually violated by the Customs and Border Protection authorities and the hospital staff at University Medical Center of El Paso who examined her.

By the way, that’s not how the authorities are casting it—that’s my interpretation of what this woman, who is identity is being kept private—just like a rape victim’s identify is kept out of the media. According to the legal complaint the border authorities and the medical staff at University Medical Center of El Paso thought it was appropriate to:

1. Have government agents strip searched her and made a visual and manual inspection of her genitals and anus.
• No drugs found
2. Then they subjected her to an observed bowel movement
• No drugs found
3. X-rayed her
• No drugs found
4. Then THEY THEN SHACKLED HER TO A TABLE(!) inserted a speculum into her vagina and performed a rectal exam on her
• Still no drugs
5. So they shoved 2 hands in her vagina to keep searching
• Still not satisfied, they did a CT scan
6. Still no drugs
• Wait for it…
7. Even though these searches were all against the will and without her consent, the Medical Center billed her more than $5,000 for her
repeated rapes by their staff. They called the rapes “services.”

This 54-year old woman has not been able to have relations with her husband or go out in public after this traumatic series of sexual assaults.

Here’s the story I saw on Huffington Post: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/03/06/border-cavity-search_n_4907225.html?utm_hp_ref=tw

And here’s a link to the legal complaint, it’s more detailed than the 7 points above and I warn you, you will be sick to your stomach at how these agents and doctors treated this woman, what they did to her, who watched, how it was not done privately, etc. http://big.assets.huffingtonpost.com/Doe-v-elpaso.pdf

Oh, and I’m writing about this on International Women’s Day. How fucking lovely.

2013 Was a Year of Learning. A Lot of Learning...

2013 was a challenging year, personally and professionally. I learned a lot. About me. About other people. About expectations. And about assumptions. At my company, DBE, a few of us have started referring to 2013 as the year of the assumption. Which means, as we are a learning organism, 2014 will be the year of communication and understanding.

On the challenging side of the business, the changes that I started to put into place in 2011 had some positives and some areas where improvements were still needed. 2012 was a year of digging deep into myself to see where the issues that were keeping us from experiencing “real” growth lay. In 2013, I turned the magnifying glass elsewhere, and, with the aid of some new power players, kept uncovering all kinds of issues and areas for improvement.

The team is rocking and we’re about to start a wave of hiring to staff to the levels we need, in the places we need them, for the growth we are experiencing. That feels good especially when I look back on what it took to get from “there” to “here.” I’m encouraged by what I’ve learned about people. If you look hard and closely, you can find the right ones to work with you. I feel very lucky for the ones I have now—and they know who they are because I thank them just about every day.

As the year draws to a close, and not wanting to jinx anything, it looks like 2014 will be at least 50% ahead of 2013 in terms of revenue and profitability.

2013 was very stressful, even when things were going well, and it definitely was a tough year for my body. First it was a series of problems with the nerves in my mouth, requiring repeated root canals and oral surgery. Then in the spring, my digestive system went haywire. In preparing for testing, I learned that a person can develop lactose intolerance (I thought it was something one had a birth—or didn’t). Once that was resolved, I injured my left knee (ripped muscle) and then had problems with both knees (they’re on the mend). Then I had a solid week of not being able to sit, stand, or walk right from extreme lower back pain (I literally jump out of bed every morning since I was a kid…one morning, my legs were ready but the rest of me wasn’t). As the year wraps up this evening, I am thankful that I can enjoy food again, and I am walking normally on flat surfaces (stairs are still a comedy show). It makes me really appreciate the saying, “When you have your health, you have everything.” I’ve taken steps to improve how I balance my energy and have joined the gym right across the street from the development where I live.

Speaking of which, one of 2013’s stresses was the move from New Jersey to Newtown, Pennsylvania. The company is still based in Plainsboro, but the new house is about a 25 minute commute. It’s lovely here in PA and the people are very congenial. Though the move was crazy with all the usual nonsense that I’ve come to expect from moving, once we were in, all has gone relatively smoothly. The views are wonderful, the neighbors are friendly, and I love being able to cook in the new kitchen (the oven in the last house kept setting off the smoke detectors).

Wil graduated from high school and started college this year, and he didn’t like that we moved further from his part-time job, college, and girlfriend, so one of 2013’s challenges was adjusting to seeing him less because he stays at his dad’s house more often to be closer to the rest of his world. He doesn’t like driving on highways (he got his Aunt Barbara’s driving anxiety genes, which I suspect were all directly transferred from my mother who made driving an extreme sport every time she got behind the wheel) so he doesn’t stay here often, and that is a big transition for me at a time when there’s a lot of other transition in my life.

Rachel got an apartment in Brooklyn in August and that was a major stress too. Not just for her, but for me, riding shotgun. OMG. She can make me look like a calm person. I learned a lot from her apartment hunting escapades so when the time comes for an apartment in NYC, I have a better sense of what to expect.

For 2014, I’d like to keep working hard and seeing my company grow. I want to be an even better mother, girlfriend, and friend to those in my life, and I want to feel like I’m making a positive difference in the world, even if it’s only on a small scale.

I’d like to focus more on my personal—not just professional—development. I’ve learned (and am still learning) to set and achieve goals in incremental steps. Success happens best when you have the time and opportunity to reflect on the little wins along the way so that you can leverage them to win more. So in 2014, I’m going to focus on learning to meditate for health, to find time to write a little since I’m not going to find the time to write a lot, and to exercise regularly to reduce the stress that my life generates and to feel better while I’m enjoying this ride.

Good-bye 2013. Hello 2014!

Random, Really Random, Warning, Really Random Thoughts

In no particular order, this is what’s popped into my mind over the last few hours.  I leave it to you, dear reader, to decide what, if anything, any of it means.

• I thought my toes would look better if I let the nails grow longer.  They are the longest they’ve ever been and my feet are still ugly.

• It’s my sister’s birthday today.  I remember being 5 years old and eating an apple, bragging to my friend Michele that I had a baby sister.  I felt like I was putting on airs at the time, as if I were being filmed for posterity. I remember feeling that at the time, and perhaps it was my memory doing the filming because that is 1 of the 2 first memories I have of my amazing sister.  The other is of seeing her in my mother’s arms through the windows between the hospital cafeteria and my mother’s hospital room.  She was just a bundle in blankets, but she was my sister.  And she still is.  She loves me through all kinds of craziness—hers and mine—and our friendship grows stronger by the day.  Who would have thought when I asked God to give me a sister that he’d give me a best friend too?

• What would happen if a meteor the size of the one that hit the moon the other day hit earth?  Done thinking about that…moving right along…

• I bought some pens at Staples today because I like the feeling of writing by hand.  Then I got writer’s cramp and started typing again. 

• Why am I so fascinated by Paris?  I have more postcards, stationery, phone cases, and assorted other images of the Eiffel Tower than anything else.  I really loved Paris when I was there, but it’s as if the idea of Paris is stronger than my actually memory of Paris.  As if my dream of what Paris is was untouched by actually having been there.  Maybe I lived there in a past life?  Or maybe the preponderance of Paris-related postcards, stationery, phone cases and assorted other images of the Eiffel Tower are available in such volume that they prompt thoughts of Paris and dreams of Paris at every turn.  A Paris-22.

• I really am afraid of zombies.  I feel I could reason with a vampire…and they seem to go for really pure or really evil people.  I’m more towards the good end of the spectrum, but years beyond pure, so I think I could take my chances with a vampire and come out okay.  Werewolves, they seem to go after people for revenge.  I don’t know anyone who hates me that much (not counting my ex,) and even if there are a few haters out there (including my ex), I don’t think they’re werewolves, so again, I’m on safe ground, I think.  But zombies are irrational and they scare me to no end.  I’m terrified of being eaten by a shark or a bear, so I would put zombies in that category—I don’t think I could reason with a shark or a bear either.  Maybe I should be more afraid of sharks or bears since they’re real, but I don’t know, zombies are just way scarier.  Though the shark with the 14” dorsal that swam behind Marc in Florida was really scary.  I still have a little residual PTS from that.  And yet, zombies still win.

• Watched the Preakness yesterday.  Guessed really badly on the winner, but did guess correctly that Orb wasn’t going to win.  Also, I am now convinced I was a stable boy in one of my past lives.  I have to go to someone who can verify this as it does explain a lot.  A lot.

• I made salmon pate today following a recipe online.  I am curious to see how well it goes over tonight.  As with 95% of the items I serve my guests, they start with a recipe and end up an improv.

• Why do all the other women who get gel nails get 2⁺ weeks out of them and I get less than a week?  Why do I peel the polish off?  Why can’t I stop peeling until all 10 nails are once again naked, only to repeat the whole polishing process again each week? 

• Wil has agreed to go to his senior prom (victory #1) and for me to throw him a graduation party (victory #2).  I feel so much like Barbra Streisand’s character in “Guilt Trip.”  Sweet movie.  A must-see for every mother of a son.

• My daughter is having a blast in South Carolina with her friends.  I’m so glad she headed down there after graduation.  She deserves a little R&R after working so hard all semester.  Can’t believe she’s now a senior in college.  Where the heck does the time go?

• Had a nice chat with my brother today.  Short call, but good to talk with him.  I wish I could see him more.  He has a good soul, good spirit. It just feels good to talk with him, even if we don't talk long or say a lot.

• I like my new haircut.  It looks very much like my old haircut.  There was a time when that would have been a bad thing.  Now it means I made it through getting my haircut without having anything to stress about.  Looks the same, just shorter.  Cool.

• I am remarkably calm for someone who is going to be moving in 4 months.  Remarkably calm.  Remarkably calm.  If I keep typing it maybe I will believe it.  Remarkably calm.  Remarkably calm.