Grown and Flown

I remember the day that you were born.  I required two epidurals and even threw up during your delivery.  Though it wasn't necessarily a difficult pregnancy and delivery, you would be considered my "hardest delivery."

I remember a time when you were left home for the first time without a babysitter.  Isaac was in charge. While we were at a wedding, you called throughout the evening--crying and demanding we come home. I was upset, feeling our night was ruined.  I realized you weren't ready to be left home without a sitter, even if we thought you were.

Throughout the years you have taken your younger sisters under your wings; nurtured them as a mother...but, you also became a mother hen.  They would listen to you better than me.  Carley often stating, "We're afraid of Erika getting mad."

I appreciate the positive role model you have been to your sisters.  I love how your loyalty to your friends is fierce.  I am proud of your dedication to hard work; focusing on doing a good job while in the workforce and and applying your work ethic to your academia.   You impress me daily of how you have always remained true to who you are.

As you are ready to fly from the nest, I have no advice for you.  Though, I know this is difficult for you...and me, dad, Danielle and Carley...you are ready.  

You are ready.  Spread your wings.  Fly high.  We'll be the wind beneath your wings.

We love you.

Hello?

August.  The month I've recognized as a time of reflection since both of my parents died in this month.  I neither rejoice nor hate the month.  I can't. I still reflect...

Today, I reflect on the time, Jody and I were leaving for college and as we were about to get in my dad's blue Ford truck, my mother began to sob.  She said through tears and between breaths, "I can't do this. Joe, you have to go alone.  I have to stay home."  I remember looking at her in disbelief, looking at Dad and back at her, then stating, "You'll get over it."  It only made her cry harder and I thought she was insane.

We hooked up our phone after a little unpacking and in a matter of minutes it was ringing.  Who the hell was calling us?  I picked up the phone.  "Hello?"  I heard crying on the other end...it was Mom.  I assured her we were OK, we had lots to unpack and didn't have time to talk.  We would call HER.

Today, I wish I could call her.  To share the pride and sadness with her as I reflect on our second going off to college.  I am also reminded, that when she was dying, she said, "There will be times that you will want to pick up the phone and call me...you won't be able to...but, know that I am there for you."  She continued, "Not being able to call my own mom was the hardest thing for me when she died...that part never got easy."

No, it's not easy.

I don't know which is harder.  Erika going off to college or that you're not around to share in this milestone.  You have been dead for almost nine years, Dad four.  They all rank right up there and the tears fall down my face as I write this.

I'd call, but you wouldn't answer nor would I hear any voice on the other end.  Distantly, I hear your voice say,  "You'll get over it."

I don't think I ever will. Mom, I miss you every day.

Like Mother, Like Daughter

I'll keep this blog simple.  On Monday, I begin a 6-week challenge which involves eating right and working out.  When I was working out a year ago, I was much happier and had more energy--yeah, yeah, yeah...it's true what "they" say.

I took "before" pictures, which even though my last post, I said I was going to post more photos, this time, I must refrain.  So, as I mentally prepare, I am brought back to a moment with my mother.

We were looking at pictures when she first retired and she was looking at a photo and said, "Who is that fat woman in this picture ?"  I've reached that point.  I hate having my picture taken, but cant wait for my first selfie after the six...12..18 weeks, but I haven't reached retirement age.

I'm committed and want to live longer than my mother; I want my grandchildren to remember me, as I remember my grandma.  I want to be the grandmother, my mother was to my children and my grandma was to me.

YOU and THEY are the greatest motivator on this journey.

Thanks for always being there for me.

This Life I Live

For some time, I have been following Rory Feek's blog, "This Life I Live".  He began blogging so he had a permanent record of the life he lived.  He has experienced some triumphant times; birth of his daughter, grammy nomination...and heart wrenching times; his mother's cancer diagnosis and then death and most recently the death of his wife, Joey Feek.

Where am I getting with all of this?

At the risk of sounding cheesy, he became my inspiration; bringing meaning to my already fulfilling life.  When his heart would break, there was always a lesson and/or a time of reflection.  Whether it was good or bad, he thanked God for what he had.

I too, am thankful.  Thankful for the life I live and thankful to God for this crazy, yet unbelievable life.

When I first started blogging, I began with the dream that I one day, would be the next Erma.  Volume 1 was written to remind myself to keep life on the "light" side, no matter how difficult.  It also served to provide my mother with communication about what was going on in my life; and when she could tell I was hurting, I'd get a phone call.

The phone doesn't ring during those times anymore, and stopped ringing seven years ago; and it will be two years since my father died; both, in the month of August.  There has been life after their deaths and the only regret I have is that I haven't recorded that time in writing. 

And again, back to Rory's inspiration, he adds pictures...and those that know me, know, I will have one or two of those...

Mom, although the phone didn't ring; this ones for you and Dad.

Thank you.  Thank you, for this life I live.

Are You There Mom? It's Me, Julie.

In her death, my mom always promised, she would be where she was needed, just as she told us, "She always sent Joey to be with the famiy member who needed him most"...so as I drove, I looked at the sky for a sign that she was there...I thought I saw her rays in the sky, but prayed that it'd be more evident...I really needed to pass this test...and know she was there...she was my first phone call when I passed it the first time...

At the registration desk, I was greeted by a grumpy, 30-something woman, who sat in her chair sideways as she provided sign-in instructions.  I checked my purse into a locker and returned my acknowledgement form to "the woman" who asked me, "Who are you again?"  Hoping the service I received was not any indication on how I would do on the test, I followed her into the waiting room where she told me to have a seat.

The testing room door opened and a women in her early 60's smiled and politely continued with the check-in procedures; which included a security scan and checking my pockets.  She then led me to the desk where we sat down face-to-face.

"Oh, I am SO going to pass this test!" I told Gretchen as I viewed her nametag while she verified my ID's.

Dumbfounded, she looked at me, then not knowing how to respond said, "Oh...really?

"Yes," I exclaimed with a huge smile on my face, "my mother's name was Gretchen."

I should have never doubted my mother's presence, but sometimes...and she knew this...I just needed a more subtle sign.

I passed!

The Road Less Traveled

In my younger years, I was more like my father (although HE would never admit it, even though everyone in my immediate family told us so...I can only smile when I remember his response, "I am not like HER!")  My mom would always tell me, "There is no one more righteous than your father."  It's true.  He fought every battle in which he felt his values were being compromised,  he never faltered in his beliefs and stood firm to what he believed in...and you never wanted to make him mad, although, I, (and my siblings) were pretty good at that one...(in our younger years)

Fast forward to present day and a funny thing happened, or so my brother-in-law, Tony thinks...and I found real joy in his response of, "Wow, you have really softened in your old age!" and he laughed (a lot) and even retold this story...

While in Mexico we boarded our two dogs.  Upon return of picking them up, I was greeted with, "We weren't sure if we should have called you on vacation...but...Schnapps got in the way of a another dog's bite and had to receive stitches in his left ear.  When he shook his head it looked like a war zone in here.  We were able to get him in to YOUR vet...it happened Friday and he's recovered well.  It wasn't his fault, at all.  He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time." 

OK, no big deal.  Until..."Now about the vet bill...we are asking that you pay half of the it. (and boarding costs)."  Stunned from being asked...and in the presence of my daughters...I stared blankly and wrote out the check of what we owed, plus half the vet bill. 

Erika leaves, goes to the car with the dogs and tells Chuck what happened.  I get in the car and Chuck looks at me in disbelief and angrily asks, "You REALLY didn't just pay half the vet bill, did you?"  "Yep, I can't believe it either," I responded.  "It's not right, I'm tired.  I'll call them about it later..." We remained quiet and didn't discuss it further as we listened to the joy of the dogs and girls being reunited.

When we got home, Schnapps' left eye was draining green goop, the same side as the stitches...Monday came and I called the vet asking for an RX for his eye, from an obvious infection.  Unfortunately, I had to bring him in and scheduled something for Tuesday morning.  $37.46, later, I left the vet.

Calmly, I picked up the phone and called the place were we boarded the dogs.  After identifying myself and Schnapps, I begin to say that I felt they should be responsible for the entire vet bill and that now, I sit with an additional vet bill in the amount of $37.46 from an eye infection on the same side as his stitches.  I was then asked if the vet stated the eye infection was a result of the stitches/dog bite?  Since I asked the vet, I gave him the same response I received, "Can't be sure, he could have just gotten something in his eye that irritated it, but I noticed it Sunday night."  He then asks if I signed the waiver before boarding the dogs that explains there would be some inherent risks to boarding.  I respond that I had, but still believe they should be responsible for the entire vet bill, because as he explained to me, "Schnapps was at no fault."  He responded that he would refund me what I had paid for the vet bill,  "Did I want to pick it up today or should he mail it?"  I asked that he mail it, thanked him and hung up.

A few days later, I received the refund AND an the additional $37.46.

As I age, my sister-in-law, Kathy tells me, I am the most like my mother.  (God, love her!) and in this circumstance, I believe I handled the situation just like my mother would have.  But, had I not gotten the results that warranted what was right, Dad would have stepped up to the plate and gotten the results I needed!

O Patrick, Patrick...Where the Hell Were You?

When I was working I had a conversation with a customer who shared that her department was reading a series of books and had I read, The Three Signs of a Miserable Job?  I remember laughing and asking her if she was giving me a hint?  She then laughed and shared that it was a book similar to, Who Moved my Cheese? and that I might enjoy reading not only this book, but the whole series.

I have always loved to read, but hate being interrupted when I am in the midst of a cliff-hanging sentence.  So, once the children began to crawl...I could not become absorbed in a book and needed to focus my reading time elsewhere...

The Three Signs of a Miserable Job, (authored by Patrick Lencioni) was by far the best book I have read in a long time.  OK, so my comparison would be a Harlequin Romance, but seriously; when I started reading this book, I couldn't put it down and by the end of the day, I had completed this 200+ page "novel".

I then sent an email to this customer thanking her for leading me to this book and that when (if) I return to the workforce; "I would be a better employee and/or manager because of it."

Since July, I have had a lot of time for self-reflection and if there is one thing I've learned from my past 20 years of working; I NOW, wouldn't change anything.  I grew as a person; both personally and professionally and I know I was a great employee and manager; but not perfect.

My subjective feelings of my past work situations have become objective.  I like being on the outside looking in and I owe my gratitude to Mr. Lencioni.

I wish I could say I regret not being able to implement Mr. Lencioni leadership practices...I don't.  However, I am grateful for the knowledge I gained through reading; it has provided me with the healing I needed and I am almost done with the whole series.