Remembrance - reposted from blogs on 9/11/09

Today is Patriot day or more ominously, 9/11. Many of you have your own stories to tell about that day and the days surrounding those horrific events. Just as when our parents remember Pearl Harbor or the day JFK was shot, we will remember what we were doing, thinking and feeling that Tuesday morning 8 years ago.

On Tuesday September 11, 2001 I was employed by a major airline. My normal role was as the manager of a small team dedicated to employee recognition, meeting and event planning and the assurance that all corporate initiatives were completed by the 32000 worldwide employees in my division. Basically we spent money on fun. It was by far one of the coolest jobs I have ever had. I was also trained for the airlines SAP... special assistance program. The SAP was the go team in the unlikely event of an airline “incident”. I had dual responsibilities including data reconciliation, procurement and as a survivor assistant on the incident site team.
That morning I was working from home, prepping for my proposal presentation for an upcoming division meeting. My husband was living 600 miles away, my daughter was in AZ at college and my son was in his senior year of high school was still asleep. My son was being incredibly difficult that morning, basically refusing to get out of bed and get to school. I, at one point went to get something out of the car he had been driving the night before when I found 2 unopened bottles of beer under the driver’s seat. I was incensed. As I ran back in to the house, I head Peter Jennings say a small plane had hit the twin towers. I had an amazingly strange feeling come over me and I knew, life was about to change. I succeeded in getting my son out of bed by telling him about the crash. As we watched the beginnings of what would ultimately be non-stop coverage, I called our control center. No sooner had I been connected than the 2nd plane hit. I could tell by the colors, it was our plane. There is a sick sense of relief in the airline industry when there is an “incident” and you realize that it’s not your aircraft… As I waited on hold for confirmation that the team was being activated, I began to plan. If I had to leave to work the crash, what would I do with my son? Could my husband get back in town? At that point, the scope of what was happening seemed to only affect my world. I was not yet entrenched along with millions of people around the world, in the gravity of what was happening.

As a SAP team member we were required to keep a suitcase packed with enough clothing to last a week, stored in your car. Ideally the team should be ready to travel within an hour of an incident. I had used my suitcase the prior week to attend a hockey tournament in Boston. As I waited on the phone for confirmation that I had been activated, I asked my son to help me. I sent this poor 17 year old down to the laundry room to grab 5 pairs of panties, 2 bras and so on… when would that ever be appropriate?

I received the confirmation I needed and contacted my husband. My husband had been in a meeting and no idea what was happening. I told him I had been activated and needed to leave. He told me he loved me and to be safe and that he would figure out the next steps in terms of our son. We didn’t know at that time there would be no air travel for days, we didn’t know there were other aircraft under attach. There was just so much we didn’t know. I was packed and ready to go. I looked at my son, so young. I didn’t know what was going to happen, but I knew I had to leave. I grabbed my son and held him tighter than I had ever held on to anything or anyone. He was shaking. I looked him in the eye and said, “If you are ever going to be a man, I need it to start right now”. He nodded and kissed me.

I don’t remember much about the drive from my home to the command center. I only remember being hysterical for what I knew would be my only opportunity to lose control that day… As I arrived I was briefed along with those on the team. At that time we were told our plane was the second in to the Twin Towers. We were also told there were a number of planes” out of contact”. At that moment, we were told a plane had smashed in to the Pentagon. As terrible as it sounds, the question of “whose plane is it” went through the room. No one knew the answer to that question. Air travel had been stopped in to and out of US airspace. Planes were grounded immediately. I was asked to help begin the process of designing teams for where we may end up sending manpower. Ironically the company was holding a number of large scale leadership meeting in Chicago that day. We had an abundance of skilled employees should we need them. We were very well prepared for one aircraft incidents. This situation had the potential to involve many planes and many, many lives. We began to prepare for 5 teams. One to be deployed to Boston the origin of the aircraft that crashed in to the towers, one to New York, one to D.C. anticipating the Pentagon crash was ours and 2 teams marked only with question marks. These represented plane we could not make contact with. I walked around the huge room we were in introducing myself and asking if anyone had bio-medical experience. We were given information regarding one of the question mark planes. The pilot made contact and it had landed safely. We were then alerted to Flt #93. Our flight, flying too low over Ohio. The NTSB locals arrived along with the state police and FBI. We were beginning to get a clear picture that this was not just a fluke or major malfunction of the nation’s air traffic system. Flt 175, the Boston flight was reconciled and the passenger and crew list certified. The phone teams arrived and took over as emergency family contact numbers were activated. We concentrated on completing our teams. In between briefings and teaming, we secured blocks of hotel rooms in New York and Boston. These would serve as work locations as well as lodging for passenger families. The response boxes, large metal cabinets with the ability to turn a plain meeting room in to a communication center were readied for air travel. Pallets of cell phones, fax machines, printer and computers were stacked at the dock waiting to be assigned to a site. The Towers came down and word spread that Flt 93 crashed in to a remote section in Somerset County PA. The aircraft in to the Pentagon, not ours. All planes accounted for. We decided we needed 3 team readied for immediate travel. One to NYC, one to BOS and one to Shanksville, PA. The president stops all air travel until further notice. Both air carriers were give special permission by mid afternoon to have one plane go to one location. We decided to send a team to PA based on the premise that we could actually gain access and begin the next steps.

I stood on the tarmac, taken aback by the silence. We all had automatically put ear plugs in… but there was no need. While there were aircraft in every possible section of the tarmac, they were silent. I stood in between an FBI agent and 2 huge National Guardsmen. I had the list and information of those who were flying in the only aircraft in US skies. They were headed to Johnstown, PA and then by bus to Shanksville. None of us knew if the skies were safe or if the aircraft was ok. These dedicated team members, one by one boarded the back stairs of the plane to do what they could for those passenger’s families and loved ones. I read the information on my list to the FBI guy and he verified the team member’s credentials. Many of these people were my friends. Many of them were visibly scared and shaken. Most of them hugged me tight and whispered in my ear. Many asked that if something happened would I please tell their husband, wife and/or children that they loved them. I made promises that day that I prayed I would never ever have to keep. As the plane took off I cried. I cried because I was scared, because I was confused and because I knew what lay ahead.

We returned to the command center only to be told that we could send out another aircraft. The plane to Johnstown had landed safely. Boston was the next team to roll. As we prepared to board the buses to the airport, we were called back. Something had changed and we were now on a 3 hour delay. It was now roughly 6pm. I called home and got updates from my son. I called my husband. We discussed ways for him to back to our son. I called my daughter. She always wants to be in control and she so wanted to come home and watch over her brother. But I explained that I needed to know she was safe at school while I did what I was going to have to do over the next few days. At 8:00 they sent those that lived within an hour, home and the rest went to a hotel. We were now delayed until sometime in the early morning. I went home to find my neighbors in my front yard. They knew where I was and were working out who would feed my son. I came in to the house and made some calls. I was glued to the TV. We had such limited information all day that I only knew what was happening with our planes… nothing else. I had not heard about the people jumping from the towers, the evacuations from New York and all that the outside world had been watching all day. At midnight the call came to be back at the command center at 3:00.

We departed at 5:00 am. The plane was packed with SAP members, FBI, NTSB and a few AFT hitched a ride as well. The plan was to take our plane first to Newark, drop off a team and equipment and then on to Boston. I was to prep the crew, oversee the removal of equipment in Newark, re-board the aircraft and go on to Boston, set up Boston and drive back to New York to lead the team there. As we got settled on the plane, the pilot came on the PA and said that while we were welcome to listen to air traffic, it may be boring as we were the only aircraft in US airspace. They also referred to the hospitality crew, commonly known as F16 Fighter Jets that escorted us on our trip. Everyone put on their headset and listened to a succession of welcomes and sighs of relief from air traffic controllers across the country. “Glad to hear you in the sky”, “Godspeed and God bless” from those unseen but heartfelt comrades. As we began our descent in to Newark, the pilot gave the information, if we wanted to see it, we were about to fly past what had once been the glorious World Trade Center. It was devastating. Smoke still rose from the wreckage and the past 22 hours came hauntingly in to perspective.

Remembrance part 2

We had to do a short landing. The pilot told us to brace as his instructions were to land and stop. He was told that any deviation could cause problems. I had already been instructed to have the flight attendants change in to street clothes prior to landing. This directive was designed to keep them safe in the event there were media in the airport or other undesirables. The pilots had already changed out of uniform shirts in to polo shirts. We landed and immediately stopped. It was rough. As we taxied to our gate there were planes everywhere. I’d never seen more aircraft in one place before. The F16s were next to us the entire time. As we pulled to the gate we asked that those continuing on to Boston stay seated. I went with a number of others in to the terminal to meet with the team from Newark for a briefing. Some of the FBI, NTSB and ATF left our group. One AFT officer who I had sat with on the plane came and hugged me. He wished me good luck and I to him. As we were flying past the World Trade Center, a few moments before, I was in the window seat, he in the middle. He leaned over to see the wreckage with me… in that very short time as we passed by what were the towers, many of us became, emotional. He took my hand and held it very sweetly. I will forever be connected to this man I only know as Kurt. As Kurt hugged me, he whispered his well wishes in my ear, I could feel this huge, well muscled man, trained to deal with incredibly difficult people and situations, tremble. I was introduced to my escorts. 2 National Guardsmen with large guns on not only their hips, but in their hands. We made our way to the tarmac and began off loading the equipment earmarked for the local team. I was given instruction as to where I was allowed, where my parameters were. With every step I took, Guardsmen took an equal step. If I turned to the right, he turned to the right; the soldier on the left would stand guard. I was running, in heels mind you, between 2 belt loaders, one in the front of the plane, and one in the back. I think I crashed into my Guard about 20 times. He always apologized even though it was my fault. At one point I asked if we could compromise on the step to step issue. Right guard said no, left guard said yes. I told them that this process would be a lot faster in they got out of my way. I think I said something stupid like, shoot me if you have too, but get out of my way. They eased up a bit and the transfer of equipment was complete. Those of us who had left the aircraft boarded and we took off for Boston. I was exhausted. I had been operating on pure adrenalin and lots of caffeine. I tried to close my eyes for the short trip to Logan International. I remember my mind racing through what had to be done as soon as we landed. I kept thinking about my husband, kids and family. What would happen if something happened? Did they know what day the trash was supposed to be picked up? Did they know how much I loved them?
We arrived in Boston with little fanfare. The tech team unloaded equipment and headed for the hotel to set up. The site team met with the local team to be briefed and accept the official paperwork for the flight. I had been given information that 2 Logan airline employees had been passengers on 175. The employees were gate agents on their way to Las Vegas via Los Angeles. Because the local team was mostly agents, they were understandably devastated. Not only had they lost 2 beloved colleagues, but they had checked in, boarded and dispatched flight 175. They were shaken and relieved that we had come in to help take some of the pressure off their shoulders. As the team began to hear the details of the passengers and what families were already seeking assistance, the enormity began to sink in.

We were transported to the hotel where we immediately began to set up our work room. Because this was not a normal crash, there was an extra layer of security and many legalities to contend with. The tech team had us up and running within hours, we had everyone in rooms, had met with the catering teams and received our official documents regarding passengers. The normal scenario for a crash has the airline at one hotel along with the official governing body, normally the NTSB. At a nearby hotel, the American Red Cross and the passenger families as well as media and other interested parties. The reason for the separation is the need to have space and time between entities. In the case of 9/11 there were so many planes, so many people and so much detail and data that we were forced to all be in one hotel. FBI, ATF, Mass-port police, passenger families, site teams, Red Cross, the other airline and so on took over the Logan Hilton in what is normally the slowest time of year. The Hilton had actually let their seasonal staff go the Friday before. With the full to capacity hotel and not enough manpower to manage meal times for the various groups, it was decided that all “working staff” would be served 3 meals a day buffet style on what was now being called the “staff floor”. The 3rd floor had numerous meeting and banquet rooms. All entities were assigned rooms and staff liaisons. We were also given our own Mass-port security detail. A large banquet room would serve as our cafeteria. Teams were given credentials allowing them access to the 3rd floor. The elevators and escalators were guarded at all times.

The work of creating passenger files fell to me and a kindly gentleman I did not know. We worked long in to the night prepping for the intense work the next day would bring. At around 2:00am we had finished creating the files and reconciled data based on family phone calls and contacts. We had designed data bases of local businesses for the family reps to access as well as assigned cell phones and rental cars. As we prepared to close up the work room there was a knock on the door. 2 FBI agents and 2 AFT agents came in asking for, me. Ok, I thought …what now… they asked that I contact my airlines legal team back in to Chicago. I did. I was told that I would be used to read some of the data regarding the tickets that were used by what we now knew were the highjackers. I was told I would work with this team providing any information they needed. I know I was shaking. They began by asking me to dissect the ticketing data... where was the ticket sold, who sold it, how did they pay for it. Then I verified the transaction logs. This is the log that is updated every time something having to do with a ticket is touched. When did the passenger check in? Did they change their seat assignment? When did they board the plane? The gate agents were interviewed shortly after the crash as is standard practice. They would have been asked to document their activities and I was simply confirming or not, what they had stated. We worked on this until about 4:30am. As we all exchanged business cards and contact information, we started to leave the work room. One of the FBI agents asked who was responsible for the passenger files. I thought he was asking because they were so neat and organized. Nope, he was asking because they were considered legal evidence and needed to be in a sort of protective custody at all times. It ended up that I was the holder of the files. This meant that with the exception of our working hours in the work room, the files had to remain with me at all times. No problem during the day, but at night, when we closed and locked the work room, the files had to go up to my room with me. I also had to be escorted when bringing the files to and from my room. So each night I called and an FBI or ATF agent took me and my file to my room, at exactly 5:50am every day for the next 3 weeks there was a knock on my door for my morning escort. That first day, my files and I arrived safely in our room at 4:45 am… The first full on passenger family interaction day began for me just 1 hour and 15 minutes later. My escorts learned very, very quickly how wonderful I can be when someone brings me coffee.

At home things were a bit calmer. My husband couldn’t get a flight back to our son and was planning to make the drive on Friday by himself. As luck and the powers that be would have it, some sales reps from his company had rented a van and were driving on Wednesday evening. They happened to have room for one more. He arrived home on Thursday and thankfully his employer understood and allowed him to work from home for the next week or so.


Remembrance part 3

My work days began with a briefing conference call. We learned how much operating cash the airlines had on hand. This was critical because no airline was allowed to fly and no fly means no cash. It was unbelievable how little operating cash was available. While the no fly was hurting all carriers, United and American also had mounting costs dealing with the families, employees and staffing needs for those directly involved. We exchanged data on family contacts, site progress, investigational needs and next steps.

We handed out assignments to the family reps and took stock of who from each family would be our contact. We worked hard with the telephone team as they had been the link to the passenger’s families prior to the team’s arrival. At this point, it was decided that I would stay in Boston. There was little to do for the airline teams in New York. Most of the passengers on flight 175 were from the greater Massachusetts area or from the intended destination of LA. Our main focus was to do whatever we could for the families. Some required counseling and we looked to the Red Cross for almost all of those needs. I worked on the administrative and legal issues. I worked closely with the company when it came time to meeting with the families of the 2 Logan employees. The pilots and flight attendants families were not part of the group we worked with. We only worked with the passengers. I remember when I met with the FBI and AFT that first night in Boston. One of the ATF handed me a manifest. He also handed me the updated contact list. The contact list is the master document that shows who from what passenger’s family has called and made contact with the airline. At that point there were numerous contacts next to each passenger, except for 5. The space next to those names was blank. I felt as though I had been slapped in the face. I stupidly said something like… “Wow, look no one has called about these guys”. The AFT agent just stared at me. SLAP. Ok, I got it. No one would ever be calling about those passengers. In meeting with the employee’s families, I had to discuss the insurance payout and forms, payable vacation and all the details of the benefits the family was entitled to. If I can say one personal piece of advice; get your house in order. None of us know what tomorrow or even today brings. Be sure your family knows everything they may need to know about you, your past and what maybe uncovered in the event of your death.

I didn’t get off the Hilton property at all during that first week. The extent of my fresh air was on the first Friday. The nation held a candle light vigil and we observed it at the Hilton. I used one of my sisters as a lifeline, calling her when I needed a calming female voice. She “went” with me to various activities while I was in Boston, via cell phone. My sister “attended” the vigil with me from her front porch in the Midwest. While my husband and children offered me more love and support than can ever be repaid or properly acknowledged, my sister was as I stated earlier, my lifeline to the outside world. I never have been able to thank her and to this day I cannot put my gratitude in to words. The image of all the staff from airlines, security, Red Cross and victim’s families standing together holding candles was overwhelming. People pulled in off the highway and joined us. I remember seeing a group of motorcycle guys standing off to the side, holding up a huge American flag. The outside of the main entrance of the Hilton had a glass overhang. In the middle of the service I looked up…. All the candles were reflected back down on us… it looked magical and took my breath away. Slowly, everyone noticed the beautiful illumination and we were all so moved. The Logan airport Chaplin presided over our vigil. This dynamic man met with us daily as not only a spiritual guide, but as a trusted member of the community and for me, a newly acquired friend.We continued to plan and execute memorials and prayer services for the victims. We built a Viking boat, set up a service at a football stadium and ran the concession stand, planned a service for a Jewish man at a Christian church, and facilitated a service at a hall at Harvard, work with city officials to assist with parking for events and security against the media for families. At one point we began to work with the coroners to gather DNA for possible victim identification. I worked with the Connecticut State Police when a family member left her dress at home and decided she needed it to attend her daughter’s service. A trooper gained entry into the house, got the dress, and drove it to Boston. We cleaned houses and painted rooms. We took kids for haircuts and shopping for clothes for services. We cooked and served meals. We did anything and everything families needed us to do. I got little sleep but was invigorated by the challenges. I compiled a daily briefing newsletter chronicling the events for the day and updating what families were considered, completed. Once a family’s immediate needs had been met, the family rep took a step back. There is the chance of a growing dependency on both sides so we monitored our team very closely. Each evening we held a team de-brief. We all gathered in a suite and shared our stories of our day and an adult beverage. Much care was taken to ensure a minimum amount of alcohol was available. We had a fabulous team of counselors with us, for us. These de-briefing sessions were mandatory and they were a great way to gauge each other’s emotional state. It was a huge group therapy session every night. We would also announce who would be leaving the next day. Given the situation we were in, there were some relationships formed, quickly and deeply. Some were very healthy and have continued to last to this day. Some were neither healthy nor lasted. As we moved in to the second week, we began to send reps home to their own families. Our little leadership team wanted to do something special for each person as they left. The impact of this time was something that few would ever be able to express to those not involved. The evening before a team member or members were to leave, they were honored at the de-brief. Each was presented with a guardian angel pin, blessed by our new found friend, the airport Chaplin. Each was also given a book I created with photos taken from the airplane as we passed over the World Trade center. The book also included other photos, team pictures and a poem that was our team mantra. Contact information became the first page everyone looked to. When the team member boarded their flight home, they were seated in First Class and presented with a bottle of champagne by the Captain. The Captain also paid tribute to the special assistance member over the PA. I understand that on each flight, the passengers erupted in a tremendous applause of gratitude. When the flight landed at the team member’s home airport, we made sure to have their family as well as many colleagues and co-workers there to meet and greet our returning heroes.When I returned after almost 3 weeks, I asked that there be no fanfare. I was tired, sad and a bit disoriented. I was also worried about my colleague and now lifelong friend who was staying behind to close out the project. The captain did tell the other passengers and they did applaud. I did receive my champagne, still have it. On my final night, there was just me and my colleague. We had received our pins and booklets a few nights before. The team presented me with a gift, a large brass lantern. Odd I thought until I read the inscription on the front. It simply said, “You were the light that guided this team to greatness”. As I came off the airplane I saw my husband, I knew I truly have never been happier to see anyone in my life. Every fear I had suppressed for the past 3 weeks came rushing forward as he held me in his arms. I remember sobbing. Sobbing for all that had been lost, all that still was to be discovered, all I had gained and all that lay ahead.There are a million more stories I could tell you about those three weeks as well as the weeks, months and years since. I have continued relationships with members of the team, families of the victims and those I worked so diligently with. Those are for another time.

Saturday February 6, 2010 Image

What a powerful word. I often think of how my image of myself would compare with the image others have of me. I believe we all have a variety of images in our lives. I think if you asked my neighbors what they thought of me, you would get an answer different from the one my work colleagues would give. I know there are many in the world who believe me to be a fairly together, well adjusted and confident woman. Sorry folks, that’s really not my image of me. Our self image recipe comes from every single aspect of our lives. As adults, we have to take a cup of childhood self worth, a pound of teenage angst, a heaping tablespoon of media influence and so on to make up how we think of ourselves and then, how we present that image to the world. Then the world cooks it all up and creates its own opinions.

When I was growing up, I had a number of conflicts in my heart, head and home. I was what would be called the “fat kid” in my family. I find it ironic that the teasing and mockery about my weight came from inside my home rather than from school mates as is the norm. This isn’t a statement of blame or intended to harm anyone. It’s more about how what is said in an attempt to help can be so wrongly misinterpreted in the moment. It’s amazing to me how so many years later, a little song a family member made up and sang very loudly, very often, now comes in to my head as I’m on the treadmill.

The public image of my family was very different from what I knew to be true. When I was a kid, what happened in your home, stayed in your home. We didn’t have families showing up on Jerry Springer to air dirty laundry. Many of my friends had similar issues where the image of their home life was vastly different than what went on behind closed doors. In retrospect, you think back and wonder why your friend’s mom never came out of her bedroom or why you never interacted with the father. What was the story with the aunt living in the basement bedroom? Why did one kid in the neighborhood always seem to lurk at other houses at mealtime? I’m pretty sure that in our electronic, gotta have it now world, more people know more about each other than ever before. I’m not sure that is such a good thing.

I’ve recently discovered how easy it is to make judgments and create opinions on the image people portray online. We have created a society that decides self worth in under a minute based solely on a picture and a paragraph. We discard people because they don’t look how we want them to look or are not great writers. I’ll admit I do it too. I have a friend who felt I needed a push to the next phase in my life and set up an account on an online dating site. She posted a picture and wrote a bit about me. I found this out when e-mails began coming to my mailbox touting, my ideal match had been found! I quickly scanned the photo and the first line or 2 and moved to the next. Nope, nobody there for me. Then I realized, these “matches” had not made the choice to contact me. We had been matched based on some unknown criteria. Each of us was sent the others information and it was up to us to make the first move. I panicked at the thought of these men actually attempting to make contact with me. What was I supposed to say or do? Did people really meet this way? Was I even ready? As I continued to dabble in this new frontier, I began to discover some interesting if not funny things about men. OK, I know a lot of funny things about men but I think I am beginning to learn more about how they think.I love the profile that begins with a statement like, “I want a lady who is willing to put my needs above all else”. The next line talks about his love for his cats. No way. There was the guy who described himself as highly intelligent, wealthy, well educated, well connected, successful in business, a great father and so on. He is looking for a female (yes he used that word) with no higher education, no outside interests, looking to “be faithful to me but understand my need for exploration”. What the heck in my profile matches this garbage? I have to say he closed our connection almost immediately. His reasoning, the distance between our hometowns was too great. He lives in the next town over from mine. If you have the chutzpa to post a profile like that, have it to say you aren’t interested in a suggested match. The men that post that they are athletic crack me up. Many are but some of them look to have been athletic at some point in their lives but it hasn’t been in the last 20 years by the looks of their pictures. The pictures that show a guy with “a few extra pounds” or “husky” are so funny when accompanied by the request for a woman described as 5’ to 5’7, slender, 125-135lbs. He’d crush her like a bug. At one point I was changing my photo and as it was reviewed by the online powers that be, I was matched, picture-less. I was amazed to see the number of picture- less matches that contacted me, not to get acquainted but to say basically, let me see your picture and then I’ll let you know if you are worthy. Next time I see my late husband… he’s getting an earful for putting me in this position. This may not be the path I should be taking at this point, but at least it good for a laugh or two.

As I’ve walked through this journey my image of myself has changed drastically, both mentally and physically. I’m slowly changing from a wife and companion to wrapping my head around thinking like a single woman. I’m working hard to break my life down from everything being for a couple, to being for just one. I find myself having to think before answering personal questions so that I don’t give the answers that come to mind first. It’s interesting and very difficult to change your way of thinking. It’s going to take some time. At the end of October, I decided I need to physically change as well. Thanks to some great support from friends and family, I’ve had a significant weight loss and work out almost every day. I’ll just say, I’ve lost as much weight as my 6th month old Lab/Sheppard weighed in at the vet this week. As I’ve changed my thinking about my status, I’ve changed my thinking about food and how I eat. People have noticed and that’s great. My clothing is ridiculously too big. But as I walk past a mirror, I still don’t look. In my teenage years, I learned to look only at my face in the mirror. Because I believe I will only and always see the “fat-kid looking back at me, I avoid the disappointment. But the other day I was at a store. It was crowed and as I shuffled down an aisle, a lady with a cart pressed past me. I was forced to turn and face a full length mirror. I almost jumped back thinking there was someone on that side of me as well. But, no… it was me. I took a good long look. Looked up and down. I felt some confusion at what I saw. It wasn’t the “fat-kid”. It was an ok looking 49 year old woman. I discovered lines in my face that I hadn’t seen before. Where were those pesky double chins? Where those bones showing on my neck? As I turned I felt my face flush… where the heck was that sizable ass? It actually looked…not horrible, maybe even something close to ok. Walking away from the mirror I knew I’d quickly revert back to the old mental image I had swirling in my head. But maybe that’s not the worst thing. Maybe that image will always need to be somewhere in my head. Maybe the intended outcome of that terrible little song sung to me so many years ago, was having its intended effect. Maybe all of these things are what I need to find and embrace the image I want to achieve and portray for the next chapter of my life.

I hope so…

Wednesday 01/13/2010 Teach your children...

*****Sorry for the delay, I took the holidays off!*******


I’m blown away by the number of people I know who have recently had babies or who have had babies in the past year. I’m so happy for all of these folks. All brought their babies into a world with 2 very loving parents. The bonus is that in all these cases, to the best of my knowledge, the parents truly and deeply love each other as well.

So having taken this journey myself, also with a loving husband and father, I’d like to share some of what I believe you should teach your children. Hey, I’m no expert but then really, who is?


Teach your children:
To swim.
To be kind to everyone.
To ask questions.
To listen to the answers.
All about love.
What is important to you and why.
To tie a man’s tie... even girls need to know this.
To respect the earth.
To cook.
To laugh at themselves more than they laugh at others.
To fish.
To accept responsibility for their actions.
To trust.
To find the joy in the sun shining off the water.
To save money for a rainy day.
To appreciate, effort.
To see with their hearts as well as their eyes.
Why they are loved.
The value of winning and losing.
Why and how to tip.
How to do a Tequila shot.
That it's ok to make a mistake. The value will be in how you handle and accept the consequences of that mistake as well as the lessons you learn.
To help a stranger in need.
To value those they love for their hearts more than for their actions.
To understand the past, is past and cannot be changed.
That asking for help is not a sign of weakness.
To try new foods at least once before deciding they don’t like it.
It’s OK to have dessert, before dinner.
To be watch out, they may have kids of their own one day!

I hope so…