Proud

Recently my grandparents, who are in their 80s, moved to live nearby. My parents moved to this area 5 years ago and now my grandparents. This summer an aunt will follow with her family and in less than a decade my family will be "from" Chicagoland instead of Nebraska. My children and their cousins will be a generation from a completely different place than the generations from which they came.

My grandparents are amazing. They are independent and resourceful and full of joy and life. They have moved near family which helps with these kinds of transitions, but it's also amazing and impressive that they made such a big move in this phase of life.

They actually lived in Chicago when they were first married. My grandfather went to Northwestern and my grandmother worked as a secretary. They have great stories about their little apartment and about living in the big city.

When I watch them prepare Shabbat dinner for four generations of their family, I'm so proud to come from people who are so strong. I'm proud of them for living admirable lives, for being role models, for showing grace in times of illness, and for starting a family that is as amazing as my family is. They taught us all the importance of supporting one another and it's that support that keeps us close and connected.

Blessings

I'm so emotional tonight. My friends, in November, made the difficult choice to change their family path and their her daughter in home hospice. Ellie has been a bundle of joy and life for so many years, but not enough of them. Her 11th birthday is coming later this month.

Ellie's aunt is compiling memories and thoughts to put in a book and share with her parents and I'm so moved by their bravery in the face of an impossible situation. Here's what I shared:

Dear Kennedy Family,

I first met Debi and Thom when Ellie was still hanging out in Debi's
tummy. I remember that Debi and I shared a laugh because she'd just
read that she needed to eat all these certain foods to ensure that her
baby be healthy and we agreed that it seemed improbable that the
weight of a child's life could rest on how many cantaloupe a person
eats. I thought to myself that this was a lucky baby to be born to a
mom who was real and honest and so obviously in love with her baby's
daddy. That seemed like a very good family to be born into.

One time when Rachel and I came to visit the Kennedy's there was a
potty chair in the living room - a conveniently placed reminder for
Ellie (Betsi then) that she could give it a try. Rachel had only just
finished learning to use the bathroom a short time before and I found
nothing about the potty amusing. Ellie came in a put her foot in the
empty potty and laughed and laughed while she looked at me. I
marveled at this girl who could find so much joy in an item that had
been my nemesis for so many months. Later, when I talked to a friend
about the day, my friend said that Ellie seemed to be a girl who could
find joy anywhere and I thought, "I should take a lesson from that."

On December 2, 2008, I sent the following message to the huggle
snuggle shop and got the following response. (Yes, I saved it - it's
very valuable):
"I'm so frustrated because our oven is broken and we don't have the
money to fix it and I want to make sugar cookies so Rachel won't be
the only one without a sugar cookie at Hebrew School on Thursday. I
think a hug would help."
"So sorry to hear about your oven. When I told Ellie you need a
huggle snuggle and could she throw you one, she said, "No, I won't
throw her one, I'll throw her a LOT." Hope you felt 'em."

I loved being with you for the Celebration of Life and I will always
remember participating in a walk to raise funds for pediatric cancer
research. (Go Team B!) I'll remember all you taught me as role
models (like how to compost) and all your strength and bravery.

You've inspired me to count my blessings and to appreciate every
second of joy and love I experience. I'm blessed to have know you.
As your lives continue, I hope that your memories and your blessings
are comforts to you. The roller coaster of life has given you some
extra ups and downs and, I hope you find some smooth times ahead.
Give extra hugs to Ben and Lotta and all of your children will be in
my thoughts all the time.

Warmly,

The Celebration of Life was a wonderful experience. It was back in the days when Betsy and I were trying our hand at a party planning business. I helped Debi and Thom plan a party to celebrate Ellie's one year of survival after her surgery. It was a true celebration and a joy.

Huggle Snuggles were special hugs that Ellie would send to anyone. Thom set up a web site where we could order them online (for free) and then Ellie would send them out in the universe and we could really feel them. Giving, giving, giving.

I'm going to go count my blessings again.

On Duty

I think there's a line in the movie "A Few Good Men" where someone explains that we (the general population) are able to sleep well at night because someone else is willing to put their life on the line to protect us. And I agree.

Recently two firefighters in Chicago died fighting a fire. Firefighters wait around until we need to be protected, often from ourselves, and then they come in and put themselves at risk to keep us safe. They do what I'm afraid to do and rush into the danger to protect us.

The comparisons are obvious. Police approach a suspicious and potentially dangerous situation so that I can stay snug in my home watching reruns of Bones. They keep the peace so that I can rest assured that my family is relatively safe.

And soldiers. Any better example? Sometimes leaving their family to live and work under extreme conditions, risking their lives and their health to protect our country. Last month Rachel and I were at the airport when a soldier was arriving home from Iraq. They announced over the intercom that he'd be arriving and that everyone was invited to welcome him at his gate.

Around 100 people gathered outside the gate to wait for this man. While we waited, I told Rachel that before airport security changed in the fall of 2001, there were always a lot of people waiting outside a gate. Whole families gathered to welcome fathers home from business trips and students home from college. We waited anxiously for our friends and family to get off plans and watched the door for them to arrive. Now we circle the airport outside baggage claim and greet our guests in the car. The world has changed in so many, many ways over the last 10 years.

But, back to that day at the airport - we all waited at the gate for this soldier to arrive home. We saw that he had family there. Nieces and Nephews who'd made posters and sisters with tears in their eyes as they answered stranger's questions. He's been gone 7 months. He'll be home 3 days. He'll be gone again until March. 3 days. Can you imagine?

The man from the USO (who looked a lot like Santa Clause) spoke to the crowd. He said that this man getting off the plane didn't know anyone was waiting for him at the gate. He would be coming off to a big surprise. The man said, "When he gets off the plane, I want to hear some noise. This man is a marine. Make him blush. " And we did. The noise when he came through the door was awesome. (And I mean that in the literal sense -- something that inspires awe.)

So, maybe some people came to clap and cheer because they were board waiting for their own flights. Maybe it was the general joy of the holiday season. But, I like to think that all those people were clapping for the reason I was -- to say thank you for keeping my family safe. Thank you for doing what I wasn't willing or able to do. Thank you for standing up for me when I'm safe at home. Thank you for being a role model about how to fight for what's important and how to protect what's valuable. These are good lessons.

Yes, I sobbed the whole time.

After I got Rachel on the plane and started driving home, I turned on the radio. First song to play was "An American Soldier" by Toby Keith. Here are the lyrics:

I'm just trying to be a father,
Raise a daughter and a son,
Be a lover to their mother,
Everything to everyone.
Up and at 'em bright and early,
I'm all business in my suit,
Yeah, I'm dressed up for success from my head down to my boots,
I don't do it for the money, there's bills that I can't pay,
I don't do it for the glory, I just do it anyway,
Providing for our futures, my responsibility,
Yeah I'm real good under pressure, being all that I can be,
And I can't call in sick on Mondays when the weekend's been too strong,
I just work straight through the holidays,
And sometimes all night long.
You can bet that I stand ready when the wolf growls at the door,
Hey, I'm solid, hey I'm steady, hey I'm true down to the core,
And I will always do my duty, no matter what the price,
I've counted up the cost, I know the sacrifice,
Oh, and I don't want to die for you,
But if dying's asked of me,
I'll bear that cross with an honor,
'Cause freedom don't come free.
I'm an American Soldier, an American,
Beside my Brothers and my Sisters I will proudly take a stand.
When liberty's in jeopardy I'll always do what's right.
I'm out here on the front lines, sleep in peace tonight.
American Soldier,
I'm an American Soldier.

Yeah, an American Soldier,
An American.
Beside my Brothers and my Sisters I will proudly take a stand,
When liberty's in jeopardy I'll always do what's right,
I'm out here on the front lines, so sleep in peace tonight.

American Soldier,
I'm an American,
American,

American Soldier.

"Yep. That's what I was thinking."

My father and grandfather are both veterans. My grandfather was in WWII. My father was in Vietnam. He has an amazing story; that I'll save for another day. But, he fought for all of you and for his own family, who didn't even exist yet. He left home to go to this strange and dangerous place to fight an unnamed war because it was just the right thing to do. And he literally risked his life to get back home and build the family that the soldiers and police and firefighters protect today. Another awesome thing.

Target in my Control

My youngest daughter, Kate, started kindergarten earlier this week. On the first day of kindergarten, I took the day off work. I dropped her off and I was there to pick her up. She had a great first day of school and everything went smoothly.

Our arrangement for the year is that my dad will pick Kate up from school each day. Some days she has other activities, but most days, they'll be together for the afternoon. (Our kindergarten is only half day.) Dad picked Kate up from preschool all last year, so they are good at this routine. And they really like it. Dad is a great playmate for Kate. He loves to come up with new ideas and loves to take her to all the places that she enjoys. They go to Chicago a lot and they have fun adventures. They are both getting to have a very special experience and, rightfully so, it's the envy of many of my friends.

So, on the second day of kindergarten I'd asked Dad to send me a text message when he arrived at the school and when he actually had Kate. I knew that it wouldn't be any problem, but I was still a little anxious. New place, new routine, new parking restrictions, new time of day. I just wanted to be sure that all went according to plan.

Dad, being funny and also retired military, sent me the following text about an hour before he was scheduled to pick up Kate:

Dad: Nanny1 to boss lady; at pick up point code name Ravinia. Have doors under surveillance. Standing by.

(I thought that was hilarious and joined in, responding...)

Me: Roger that. Update as situation develops.

Dad: No change as of 10:36.

Dad: No change as of 11:21. Will move in closer to door E2 and observe.

Dad: 11:25 large group forming at E2, 11F, 2M, 3C

Dad: First group out. No joy on target yet. Mob stable.

Me: Keep a sharp eye!

Dad: On the job. Have not missed a target in years.

Dad: Target in my control!

That last line was the funniest part because, while Dad is the grown up and drives the car and pays for things, Kate is really always the one in control.

I'm lucky to have such a great dad who gives up so much of his own time to be with my children. And does so in ways that they enjoy. The memories they build together are priceless.

At Least You Aren't Chained to a Wall

A couple of years ago I went to a conference in Chicago for the Points of Light Foundation. At the conference, we had a speaker from an Improv group in Denver called Chicken Lips. The presentation was called, "Laugh Like Your Life Depends on It." I don't remember the presenter's name, so I'll call him Mike.

Mike spoke to us for a long time about the power of laughter. He told a lot of funny stories and also spoke about facts in relation to how laughter lowers your blood pressure and increases your life expectancy. He talked about people he'd worked with who were miserable without laughter and people who became healthy after laughter was introduced to their lives. I'm sure you can imagine the kind of funny, interesting things he shared, but one story was particularly compelling.

When we were kids there was a group of Americans who were held hostage in Iran. Do you remember that? They were held for six years. One of the men held was from Denver and he and Mike were friendly acquaintances before he went to Iran. (I don't remember his name either, so I'm going to call him Charlie.) Mike knew Charlie was going to Iran. He had taken some kind of teaching position and would be gone for a year. He was excited about the adventure.

Soon after moving to Iran, Charlie was kidnapped and held hostage. For two years he was kept chained to a wall; constantly. For six years he did not see sunlight; at all. He never knew if his family was OK. He never knew if he would survive. He never knew if his country had forgotten him or if anyone in the world was even looking for him missing body.

When Charlie was released and returned to Denver, Mike made arrangements to meet with him. After the usual talk about how glad everyone is that everyone is all right, Mike asked Charlie how he made it through that time. Charlie said, "Laughter." He went on to explain that they (the hostages) had nothing else to rely on. They worked hard every day to find something to laugh about. It was challenging and some days the laughter was very hard to find. But, they knew that they had to do something and that finding laughter and laughing was all they had. They used it as a tool to help one another and to keep themselves alive.

Mike told us that he went with Charlie to the DMV to get his new driver's licence. (Because he'd been gone 6 years and it had expired.) The lines were long and the service was slow and it was several hours before Charlie reached the front of the line. When he did, the woman at the counter recognized him and apologised that he'd had to wait such a long time. Charlie said, "At least I wasn't chained to a wall."

After that Charlie picked up his life right where he left off. He placed his hostage experience in his past and focused on the present and the future. He used laughter to get him through the after-effects of his ordeal and he lived his life. According to Mike, Charlie, seems like every other regular guy who has a regular happy life.

And, Mike has had opportunity to meet with other men who were members of the Iran hostage group. He says some kept that laughter and put their experience in their past and moved forward. He says they are doing great. He says that there are also some who couldn't put their hostage experience in their past and that they have been unable to lead successful and fulfilling lives.

When I heard this story I thought of a friend of mine. She's got small children and lives far from her family and somewhat isolated from the people and interests that support her. Of course she is not a hostage in Iran chained to a wall without seeing sunlight for six years. But, there are some similarities.

Every day holds challenges that are real and are sometimes large. But, she is a graceful, joyous, lovely person who loves her family and who has a great power to appreciate humor in many situations.

Over the next six years she will use laughter as her tool to living a happy life and to having a happy home. Laughter is going to be a source of health and sanity and she'll find it every day - even when it's really hard to find.

Unlike the hostages, she will know that at the end of a few years her pre-schoolers will grow into lovely young children who can do more for themselves and she will remember the days of sippy cups and snuggly bedtime stories. In the meantime, she'll change diapers and teach her children to share. In her mind she'll whisper to herself, "Hey, at least you aren't chained to a wall."

My Brother is a Rock Star in My World

My brother, Dan, is a wonderful, wonderful part of my world. I love that he's my brother.

When my parents first brought him home, I was almost three. I wanted him to go on my slide with me. Mom said he wasn't old enough to use the slide. I said, "Then what good is he?"

Over the years he served his purpose:

1) A smaller creature I could boss around.

2) Partner in crime when we threw slime on the living room ceiling leaving red splotches.

3) Loan officer when I tried to pay a speeding ticket without our parents finding out.

We've had a lot of great laughs together.

We complement each other well. We have really opposite skill sets and do things really differently. And, we happily give up what we don't do well to the other one. That makes us a really good team when we work together. A lot of projects involve me doing stuff and Dan paying the bill. It's fun.

One thing that we do have in common is our sense of humor. We both think the same things are funny. Sometimes when no one else does. We always know when the other will laugh at a story.

One of my favorite stories Dan's told me is about the time he was on an airplane, in the air, during a flight, and the maintenance crew started unscrewing bolts to get to a panel to do some routine work.

We have the same Starbucks order: Tall Vanilla Nonfat Latte.

Dan will point out that he gets his sugar free and I don't. But I will not point that out because it ruins my point about us having the same Starbucks order.

When we were little and Dan was mad at me, he would slip a note under my bedroom door saying, "You realize of course, this means war." Everything was spelled wrong, but I didn't know because I spell as poorly as he does. (I still maintain that we have complementary skill sets. Spelling is the exception.)

This year, Dan got me a new camera for Hannukka. It arrive the day before Kate's Holiday Sing Program at preschool. Perfect timing. I took great pictures. Dan always comes through in a pinch. Even when he doesn't know he's doing it.

How would I sum up my relationship with my brother? I don't understand much of what he does, but I love the whole package that is Dan.

The Best Thing About My Family

Anyone who knows me knows that I have a really great family. My parents are always ready and available to help out and act like it's me doing them a favor when I ask. My family is loving and generous and thoughtful and really entertaining. I'm so blessed.

But, not everyone knows that most of my life I didn't think I had such a great family. I didn't think there was anything wrong with them - specifically. But, I just didn't value all the wonderfulness they freely gave me. I didn't appreciate what I had.

The very best thing about my family is that all those years (about 30 of them), they never pushed me away or tried to pull me too close. They just waited for me to figure it out.