100 words a day

A few weeks ago, I asked my niece what she’d like me to get for her upcoming fourth birthday.

Without hesitation, she barked into the phone, “A diamond ring.  Because Mommy doesn’t share hers.”

O……kay.

I told my sister Maggie (fellow Aunt), and then asked my niece yesterday, again, what she’d like from me.

“Well I don’t need a diamond ring.  Maggie’s getting me that.”

“I thought you wanted me to get you a diamond ring?”

“You can get me one too.  Then I’ll have two, like Mommy has two.”

Yes I’m biased.  But she’s really the smartest girl EVER.

A woman I love extended her family yesterday with the miracle of her first grandchild.  He is tiny and perfect and full of everything that’s right with the world.  His parents didn’t act like first-timers; they surely had done this many times before.  Grandmother held him with a look on her face I had never seen.

Her life is controlled chaos at best and she must juggle white-hot boulders every minute of every day.  Stress is her constant companion and her one true nemesis.  She cradled her new grandson and her beautiful eyes finally showed the peace she so deserves.

Seventeen years ago I was in Chicago experiencing the birth of my daughter.  The day was all about promises and dreams to be fulfilled.  I held her with such purpose and love and told her the world was now far better off with her arrival.

I know she heard me that morning and understood completely when I whispered “you are a gift to us and your entire family.”  I also sang Bob Marley’s “Three Little Birds” to her over and over, reminding her “everyt’ings gonna be alright.” 

She begins another year today.  There are more journeys now than ever before.

With Cecilia, I’m half nurse, half esthetician. She needs help taking off her clothes and getting onto the table. She’s a 60-year-old ex-nurse and ex-lawyer, never been married. Two computers implanted in her body for management of what I can only imagine is unbelievable pain. Last week she had an update for me.“Catherine, I’m in love. His name is Michael, and he’s a gentleman and a scholar. He’s in love with me too. He says he doesn’t mind that I can’t move very well.”I helped her get ready for her date. Lucky guy, Michael.

$125.36 for round trip tickets.  No luggage.  That would have been $40 more.  No family.  That would have been at least another $165.00.  My credit card only had $127.50.

“Mom, I’m coming out.  I’ll be there when Judy’s there, so you’ll have the family together, like you and Dad want, at least for a couple of days.”

“Good!  I’ll be happy to see you.  By the way, I wanted to let you know … we didn’t intend to hurt Lannette by not inviting her.”

“Well, you did.  That hurt me too.  I’m still not happy about it.”

“I’m sorry, hon.”

Valentine’s Day is easily my least favorite holiday, topping the Hallmark-created event list with “Sweetest Day” a distant second.  The amount of money spent on red-and-white stuffed animals, bad chocolate and over-priced flowers is ridiculous and if you give or receive any of these items well….you’re not part of the solution.

February 14^th wasn’t always so lame.  In grade school we crafted mailboxes out of Kleenex boxes, construction paper, paste and crayons and carefully attached them to our desks.  We made individual cards for one another and hand-delivered them.  The anticipation of reading each valentine was a feeling forever unmatched.

“Dad, I need some more details.  It’s not going to work for me to just tell work that I’m going to Vegas to watch movies with my parents.  What’s going on?  Why do I have to be there within a month?”

“I never said anything about a month.”

“Yes, Dad, you did.”

“Well, we just want to see you, and we don’t want you to have any distractions.”

“I have to bring my family, Dad.  I have to help Lannette with her medications.”

“Well, then, never mind.  Just forget about it.  We’ll call the whole thing off.”

I’m still shocked.

What to say, what to say, what to say. 

Well, obviously I’ve been slacking in the 100wordsaday department. 

Catching up:  Right as work started picking up, I heard from two former clients who’ll need my help again.  Last week my father was hospitalized (now out and recouperating) from angioplasty, which made for an interesting, hectic week with our ‘bustling’ family dynamic.  I’m leaving the biggest and best Manhattan rental apartment to move into my boyfriend’s Bronx co-op.  I started seeing my dietician again since that weight loss goal isn’t meeting itself.

2010 got off to a fast paced, interesting start.

My kids have been taught that passion and hard work usually equal a satisfying result.  Find something that interests you, put in the time and energy and then sit back and enjoy.

Both my children love reading and books and their lives are rich because of it.  My son has read the “Percy Jackson and the Olympians” series multiple times.  His knowledge of Greek mythology is staggering.  This week he stood in line for eight hours to have his books signed by the three stars of the new “Olympians” movie.  Tonight he’ll see that movie at midnight.  Effort = reward.

You know those calls that you expect to get someday, but not today?

“Stace?  This is Dad.  I want you and your sister - just the two of you - to come out here for a few days.  It’ll probably be the last chance we have to get all of us together.  I’ll pay for it.”

“Dad, you can’t afford that.”

“I’ll take it out of our savings.  It’s important.  When you get here, we’ll talk about some things and watch the old home movies.  Try to be out here within the next few weeks.  No more than a month.”

At first I was giddy.  I loved the idea that I could ‘run away’ from my problems.   All of those little messes I couldn’t quite resolve? Those would soon become somebody else’s sleepless nights.

At least that’s how it seemed.

Truthfully, it wasn’t joy I felt first.  It was hurt.  And disappointment.  And betrayal. I’d been traded.  Another team requested me and my team let me go. What did those negotiations look like?  Was there a midnight stalemate ending in my manager’s tears of exhaustion, “Fine! Take the best we’ve got!” Or were the “t”s crossed before it ever began?