Just Enough Rain for Luck

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Had anyone told me I would be quoting Steven “Dude looks like a lady” Tyler I would have said they were smoking what he smokes…the thing is he’s got this when he says “If you have a candle, the light won’t glow any dimmer if I light yours off of mine.”

I have been the recipient of more generosity than I ever could have imagined.  From my family, from my family, from my family especially my Father.  He didn’t have much, he didn’t know much but he shared everything from stories to lost dreams to insight to the yolk from his over easy eggs salted just perfectly to wint-o-green lifesavers.  We spoke a similar language that only we could understand.

So many generous people have shared their knowledge with me throughout my career that it’s hard to list them all.  Most notably my friend Cookie, a rare breed in the car business that thought it was ok, no more than ok, to share his vast, been there done that, know where the bodies are buried knowledge with a woman of all people.  I’m not talking about the read the financial statement kind of knowledge I’m talking about the watch out for this trick, keep an eye out for this on the bill of sale kind of knowledge.   It was invaluable but beyond that it was the same kind of knowledge my own father shared, the real life, you’ll get kicked in the ass once in a while knowledge in a kicked up more educated went to college version.

Over the course of the sixteen years I worked with him, he was my mentor, he was my friend and he became my confidant during a time when not much was going right.  You can’t help but know an awful lot about each other’s families working together every single day.  He knew my relationship with my father and I knew his relationship with his children especially his Muriel.  So it was no surprise to me when my father died he could see the future.

In the infinity of life that we all share, I have to believe that a promise kept is more important than many other things.  If something happens to me, he said…you’ve got Muriel.  Of course I would, and so I do.  Through the miracle of universal alignment she lives four doors away on our little Stowe Ln.  It’s been an easy friendship full of shared experiences and memories of both her father and mine.  It’s my hope that one day she will think of me as one of the generous people in her life and fulfill her promise of helping me grow old with a sippy cup of wine in my hand…just sayin

I had the honor of seeing her married this past weekend, of chauffeuring her in a shiny BMW the way her Father would have, of authenticating the day through photos that were beautiful but regrettably missing one of the most important people in her life. We didn’t speak of it, we didn’t have to.

It was a joyous day none the less, had I had a daughter I would want her to be exactly like Muriel. Beautiful, real, take after her Father in that sarcastic listen closely so you don’t miss anything kind of way.  We will always share the Father’s Daughter mentality, sentimentality although she will poo poo being capable of any such thing. What we know like we know is that they are exuberantly watching from somewhere and even if they’re not they have shared so much that we will never run out of all that they have left behind for us.

To that end the lesson for both of us from our Father’s has been  to share what we know, not just our knowledge but our way of looking at things, our perspective if you will, our sense of humor, our sense of family and our friendship so that we too can leave behind bits of ourselves.

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My dearest Muriel and Martina no amount of love and health and happiness can ever be enough for you.  Know you’re loved, share your lives fully and leave behind all that makes you what and who you are, as individuals and as a couple, so that many can benefit from your having met and married.  Like your wedding day I wish you just enough rain for luck I know like I know it will be a breathtaking life.

Legacy Lessons

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I am a lifelong learner.  I learn from everything, stubbed toes, and wise women, getting caught in the rain, books, fathers, music and the day to day routine.  Everything I learn becomes part of my legacy, how could it not.

But it’s not only me, everybody is creating a legacy, young and old alike, I mean everybody.  In listening and reading about other people’s lives and living my own life (which is nothing like minding my own business because you know like you know I can’t do that) certain lessons have begun to emerge.   I want to explore those lessons now that they seem so blatantly obvious.

Legacy lessons are little tidbits and light bulb moments in everyone’s lives, they are the nuggets you leave behind for others to follow (or not) and little sparks of your being that prompt people to say:

Remember the time…

How funny was…

So and so taught me…

Fill-in-the-blank used to say…

I remember…

I’m tired of writing about me (well not really) so I’ve begun collecting some of these legacy lessons from others so we can begin to share all that makes us who we are and what we will leave behind. Oh don’t get so “let’s not talk about that”, nobody gets out alive.  And if you’re going to leave a legacy you may as well have something to do with it.  I know like I know that we are all extraordinary legacies in the making.

Check the Ordinary Legacy Facebook page for the lesson prompts and share your stories.  A hint, we all come from one…

Trains

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It was unusual for my sister and me to find ourselves parked along the railroad tracks recently.  So suggestive of days lived so long ago.  Our father was a train enthusiast; no he was a train nut.  We have been watching trains our whole lives and to this day the sound of the whistle stops us and brings us back to sitting three across in the front seat alongside the siding.

One of my fondest memories is playing in the park in Weehawken that overlooks the railroad yard. Back and forth on the swings, the wrought iron fence, surveying the long drop down to where the trains came in and out.  Hearing the wheels clack along the rails, watching for the signals to change, and the whistle…love the whistle.  When I lived on Oaktree Road and was unable to sleep the sound of the freight train going through early in the morning gave me comfort.

How many engines pulling the train was a good indicator of how long you’d be sitting at the crossing, the engineer on the caboose, back when there was a caboose, waving to us, knowing what freight movers the boxcars belong to and then watching the train pull all the way out of sight.

Toward the end of his life one of the small pleasures my father had was taking a ride.  Inevitably we would wind up along a railroad track or stopped for a train.  You could see the kid in him light up and the wanderlust move across his face.  I’m pretty sure my sister and I have inherited some of the kid light from him as we rolled down the windows and beeped the horn to hear the echo under the old trestle as we left to go home.

Happy Father’s Day Thomas, we miss you every day.

 

Happy Mother’s Day from a Father’s Daughter

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She loves her Chinese food, me not so much.  She has a million quips and quotes that somehow grew us up and we remember to this day.  She is eighty three and like most people her age she concentrates on herself, some amazing survival instinct of the aged. She truly made a silk purse from a sow’s ear, she scrimped and saved and has a wonderful nest egg, me not so much but she is generous.

In the eight years since my Father passed we have become…something.  Something more than we were and less than we will ever be.  I have developed a certain respect for her charm, her ability to bring people to her and to make them feel…something.  Loved, important, heard, special.  She has a long line of people who will always remember how she made them feel.  Including me.

But she and I couldn’t be more different in many ways.  I am hopeful that I’ve been able to cultivate that ability of hers to bring people to me.  Maya Angelou said today that her second greatest blessing has been her ability to turn people into children of hers.  I’ve had a string of people that I believe turned into children of mine but have now moved on into wonderful and satisfying lives through new jobs, new relationships or reestablished relationships with their own mothers, and new…something.

You never really know the effect you’ve had on people, there are no Mother’s Day calls when people have taken your love and lessons and moved on to send those lessons into their own worlds.  You can be grateful for the love and lessons you’ve received from a Mother you’re only now getting to know, love and respect.   I am grateful for both the sending and the receiving.

Happy Mother’s Day to all.

The Perfect Elevator Pitch

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The art to a perfect elevator pitch is making an impression in thirty seconds or less.  Hopefully it’s a good, no a curious, impression in thirty seconds or less.  Your ultimate goal is for the person you’re pitching to say……………..tell me more.  Mission accomplished.

The question posed is usually; what do you do?

I write about all things ordinary because I believe that’s where real legacy comes from.  No one likes to talk about it but everyone will leave a legacy whether they intend to or not. Why not embrace the ordinary where memories become legend and you become immortal.

Wait for it…

Tell me more….perfect.

I bet everyone can think of at least three ordinary things, smells, moments, sounds that are directly associated with someone they no longer have in their life.  They don’t always have to be positive; no one said everyone would leave behind goodness and light.  Not everyone made their way in the world nobly.

But everyone is making their way in the world.  This week proved to me that legacies of all kinds are being forged with and without awareness.  My neighbor is fighting for her life in rehab, her family is forming her legacy as we speak but it’s yet to be decided, it’s an ongoing process, one I truly hope is life affirming with an outcome of strength and resilience.

My mother is rallying in another kind of rehab with literal strength and resilience toward being home for Easter.  Her release date is the 25th.  She has taken the rehab center by storm with her charming personality; and while they want to see her well, they would love to keep her among them.

Spending time with friends and colleagues this week has been essential for me.  I had to dig deep into the past to help someone; I had to go somewhere I hadn’t been in quite some time.  Truth be told I was sure I’d never have to go there again but your history sometimes bears repeating for the sake of another poor soul.  My problem is the balance of helping and hurting.  I learned much about myself this time around and was able to invest only what was necessary to start a process, not so much that I became overwhelmed.  I began to go too far but stopped; quite a valuable lesson in boundaries.

I’m learning to stop more and more.  Through my writing I find release and cleansing. I hope others will too.  I’m so fortunate to have finally found my creative outlet, one that lends itself to some measure of integrity.  But I’ve got to be careful to check my motivation.  I’m writing for the love of it, for the love of legacy and for the love of life.  Not for the “likes” on Facebook or the site stats that I so often find myself checking.  If people read, when people read I will be grateful.

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Speaking of grateful, my friend Paul shared the pictures from the annual Father/Daughter dance today.  They are just beautiful and his face truly tells a wonderful story.  He is creating the best legacy of all, one year, and dance and picture at a time for his “father’s daughters”.   Although my father and I never danced I am reminded each year, around this time of his death, just how many wonderful moments he left behind.  It is a blessing to me to watch another father do the same.

 

Truly, what is ordinary to one may be extraordinary to another, I know like I know.