Dad

I lost my dad this week. 

I feel orphaned. 

I'm so grateful for the gifts he gave me: my sense of compassion, the ability to call a spade a spade, my complete confidence in belting out a song (even if I tend to be a little off key), my love of math and science, my sense of fair play, my generosity, my long pretty fingers.

He was the parent that never judged me, or at least not out loud. He was the one I could talk to about books, or politics, or traveling or just about anything. He was kind and generous. He was gentle. He was smart. I never doubted his love for me.  I always knew he was proud if me.  He ended every conversation with I love you very much (in his sweet soft accent) and kisses. Smiling came easy to him. Everyone liked him. I loved him so much and my world is a little smaller without him. 

Mortified

Come to this with me!??!, read the subject line of my friends email. 

Inside, a link to a performance called Mortified and her comment:

YOU READ YOUR CHILDHOOD DIARY ALOUD TO STRANGERS!

I was laughing before the link even opened. I know I have notebooks full of cringe worthy material. I was an intense, expressive child and and a angsty teen that didn't hesitate to record my every "I carried a watermelon" moment. 

In fact, I thought, I have a ton of mortifying material from my adulthood too! 

And then I realized: No, no I don't. 

It's not that I'm any less intense or expressive than I was as a kid. Or that the moments aren't there- I'm a Bridget Jones if ever there was one. 

But at some point along the way I stopped recording them. At some point I assigned them the label of cringeworthy and mortifying and I locked them away to the back of my brain, where all unshared thoughts go to die. 

But are they actually cringeworthy? What's wrong with being sad or scared or lonely or angry or enthusiastic or hopeful? Why did I decide that my genuine emotions are not worthy of being expressed without heavy editing? At what point did perky become my go-to emotional state?  

The thing I love about those notebooks and poems, and the reason they've survived three decades of life's changes, is that they bring me back with the vividness of a digital 3D movie. They are my own personal time capsule.  

And if sometimes I cringe, mostly I love that girl- I love her honesty, her sincerity, her passion, her ability to pour her heart out on a page without thinking that this would embarrass her later. 

And thank goodness for that. Because, as it turns out, I'm not actually embarrassed by any of it at all. 

 

 

Lost in the mail

For someone who works so hard towards personal growth, I sure have a hard time recognizing it in others!

To illustrate:
My birthday was the last Friday in October. That morning, my phone rang and when I picked up, my sister was singing her very best Happy Birthday to you!

Then she said, I sent you a gift, did you get it yet?

A gift? From my sister? In the mail? And thoughtfully sent before my actual birthday? This was unprecedented! And completely out of character! I was astonished!

The weekend came and went and no gift arrived. Monday morning arrived, along with the gusting winds of Hurricane Sandy, and I forgot all about it.

A week later she calls and asks how I liked the gift? But I didn't get anything! Two weeks later she calls and says, the post office says the delivered that Monday!

Now, I became suspicious. They delivered? When? During the hurricane?! And to whom? I was home all week!

I didn't believe her. In fact, every time she called with a gift update from the post office, I rolled my eyes.

"They're double checking their records!"

"Maybe they didn't deliver during the hurricane, but they're sure it was that week!"

"They're asking the postman who worked that day!"

"They say, are you sure you don't have it and just forgot to open it?"

"Maybe it's still outside your door?"

With each update I'd re-hash the story with friends as "typical Patty" and we would laugh and laugh-- why would she bother lying about this? Lost in the mail! As if! It's not like I was even expecting a gift!

Months passed and the updates slowed. By Christmas, it was forgotten.

Two days after Christmas the phone rings.

"Diana, the post office called. They say someone called and said they have your package."

Really?

"But the woman at the post office who called is on vacation for the holidays so I won't know anything else for a few weeks".

Uh-huh. (Insert eye roll) Ok, then. Keep me posted!

Then, this morning, 10 weeks after my birthday, Nick calls. He says, Hey neighbor! I have your birthday present! And, Neighbor Nick lives at my same address, only on 36th Street, instead of my own 35th Street.

Ha!

So this week I'll enjoy some delicious Teavana Tea, courtesy of my big sis.

Who, btw, deserves an apology.

So, Patty: Even though you had no idea that I didn't believe you, I'm sorry. Thank you so much for thinking of me on my birthday and sending me such a thoughtful gift! And the next time you do something thoughtful and kind I will tell my friends, this is just like my sister!

Because people, they can surprise you.

5. I know this to be true: I love my sister.

2012

Thank you, 2012, for the life lessons and changes you've provided.

I,
-Learned to establish some boundaries.
-Started to learn how to say no.
-Found that some battles are not worth fighting and how to differentiate the ones that are.
-Left a terrible relationship.
-Didn't go back.
-Made fantastic new friends.
-Got to spend time with the fantastic friends I already had.
-Learned the difference between alone and lonely.
-Started asking for (and listening to) advice when I needed it.
-Learned to put my time and energy towards the people and things that make my life better and build me up.
-Learned to ask for help.
-Learned gratitude.
-Stopped being so hard on myself.
-Stopped being so hard on everyone else.
-Started celebrating my important moments.
-Lost 20 pounds.
-Learned that the people who love me based on what I do for them don't actually love me at all.
-Learned to trust that true friends are willing to compromise.
-Remembered how to laugh.
-Started making deliberate choices to change my life, realizing that even if it's the wrong choice, at least it's mine.
-Re-discovered hope.
-Am happier and stronger than I was just one short year ago- and have so much love and gratitude for the list of people that helped me get here.
-Am confident that my life will only get better.


5. I love this new optimism.

What's the worst that can happen?

Every time someone says to me, what do you think? Should I risk it? I say, "Do it!" "What's the worst that can happen?" "Live a little!"

It's great advice, just not any I've ever taken for myself.

I've always been the one who holds the bags, sits in the back, checks surreptitiously for seatbelts.

At the amusement park, I am not amused. Sure, you might talk me into going on that big roller coaster but those pictures don't lie! I'm the one who looks terrified, eyes sealed shut, white knuckled and clinging to the safety harness next to the girl woohooing all the way down.

But lately? That's changing for me. I find myself not clinging to my neighbor (stranger or not) during takeoff and landing. I'm more likely to have my face pressed to the window.

And at the water park this Christmas? I wanted to go on every ride, especially the ones that scared me. And I did-- All the ones that make you go head first and the ones that swirl you around and the ones that spit you out with so much force that you inadvertently flash the lifeguards. And I screamed and screamed until I laughed and laughed.

I loved every minute of it. There was a rush and an excitement that I've never experienced before (it's usually just terror). And I felt free.

4. I love this change in me.

Can you bring me a six pack of beer and a roll of Charmin?

“Diana, what you need is a bodega that delivers” says my dear friend as I’m complaining of having to go out in the rain for toilet paper, “I never leave the house!”

As I’m searching for the nearest bodega that delivers, I wonder, has city life spoiled me?  I can have food delivered at all hours with just a phone call, or if I don’t feel like chatting? A few clicks on a phone app.  I can pay someone else to do my laundry, cleaning, food shopping, cat box cleaning.  I’ll bet if I look hard enough, I can find someone to write thoughtful and endearing Christmas cards to all my friends and family (And if not, that should be my next business venture!)

I love this city and every convenience it brings, but have I taken it too far?  Is it a too much to expect that someone else should be doing all the things that life requires that happen to be just a little annoying?  Do I miss out on too much as I’m munching on delivery from my favorite Indian restaurant and catching up on my TV shows on DVR?

Maybe I do.  Maybe I’ve lost out on the soulmate I would have met on line at the grocery store. 

Crap!

Then again, isn’t it more likely that my soulmate is currently compiling his orders on Seamless web and planning his next vacation?

And with that thought, I know exactly what to do.

“La Cabana, what can I get you?”

“Hi, yes! Can you bring me a six pack of beer, a roll of Charmin and the phone numbers of everyone else that has placed this exact same order?”

Done.

3.  Not a doubt in my mind: I love delivery.

Hurricane Aftermath

My heart bleeds for the victims of Hurricane Sandy.  I see the devastation of their homes on television, I talk to the friends who have no power, no water and wonder how they can be so cheerful.

I walk through the city streets where the line between the haves and have nots seems every clearer, marked as it is by light, or the lack of it. 

The loss of light has turned familiar streets into foreign territory and benign neighbors into menacing shadows. I want my city back. Hope the lights come back to you all soon.