Apparently, according to my Facebook page ever so kindly sharing my memories, it has been 6 years today since I started this blog. And tonight I almost had a panic attack because I couldn't find it. But I did. And that's not what I am here to write about anyway.
Today is August 8. At least for 10 more minutes as I begin this post. It is my first anniversary. It's been a great day - we stayed at the haunted Jean Bonnet Inn in Bedford last night and I spent the night simultaneously hoping for, and praying against any kind of paranormal activity. That's kind of a lie - I was mainly praying against it and literally sweating that my prayers weren't going to work. But I did think it would have been kind of cool if in the morning something had been misplaced. I wasn't up for any of the common stories - window shutters (indoor) being banged in the middle of the night, or voices and chilling laughter or the rocking chair starting to rock. And today we putzed around Bedford Springs Resort like we owned the place - and we didn't even have a room. That was fun. But that's not what I am here to write about either.
It was the planning and executing what took place a year ago - the simplest of simple weddings that ever was to be. Except it wasn't. Roll back to 3 years prior when we started talking about getting married. We both had always wanted a beach wedding. So that was decided - we were going to steal away to a tropical island and get married on the beach. The guest list - at most - would be possibly some of our kids - and maybe a couple of my sisters. So we set a date for May 19th, 2014. And then we found out that a grandbaby was on the way, due May 15th. Then we found out that baby was 2 babies. Which seriously broadened the window of arrival, for which we didn't want to be out of the country. And finances for such a trip were a challenge. So plan #1 was scrapped. So we talked about August of that same year. On an island. Sans that particular son and now much larger family. But I have an issue with trying to be someplace tropical during hurricane season. And why waste a tropical vacation on a time when it's actually warm at home? And finances never materialized. So plan #2 was scrapped. Over the ensuing months, I eventually acquiesced to something much less involved locally with the thought that our honeymoon could be tropical and we would do a symbolic ceremony on the beach - because the red tapes that must be jumped through on islands were ridiculous - minimum number of days on said island before getting married, needing a costly "official" translation of divorce decrees from English to Spanish then marriage license from Spanish to English - or even having to fly your clergy person from 1 island to another to fill out paperwork then back to the island of the ceremony. No thanks.
WHEN/WHERE/HOW So, having given up the dream (how dramatic) of the idyllic beach wedding (at one point I wailed, "Why don't we just go to the courthouse in blue jeans and a T-shirt if we're giving up on everything we dreamed of?"), we decided on a local Bed and Breakfast, which is close to a lovely park with ducks and a gazebo. The B & B, several months before had told us they specialized in small weddings, the wife would even play the piano, and the husband would prepare a wedding dinner for the couple and up to 8 guests. Sounded perfect - we could have the ceremony at the park with the B & B as a back up for inclement weather - and a meal for all of us - then we would stay there. So we booked the room. And we set a date for August 8 - having attempted to try one more date - this time for May 27th - only to find one son couldn't make it and I had to work that week because of all the lost school and client income due to all the snow that winter. Joe had taken the week off in prep, but eventually got called back into work. So a new date was set - one big thing off of what was supposed to be a stressless wedding planning list. I was to leave for a mission trip the 3rd week of July. We had not heard back the confirmation that would make me comfortable from the B & B so I suggested about a week prior to my leaving that we stop in. Took at least 15 minutes for anyone to come to the door. She was NOT happy to have us pop in. And in the course of conversation broke the news to us that they no longer did weddings because they had had a bad experience about 2 weeks before. I'M SORRY - WHAT???!!!???? Our room was paid for, she had emailed with Joe about a wedding dinner menu and NOW they're telling us we can't have a wedding or meal there? AND - if I were to use my PAID FOR room to get ready before the ceremony, which would have been an hour before check in time, I would have to pay extra to do it? AND - she couldn't have kids at a dinner because of a bad experience a few weeks ago....and "everybody says their child is well-behaved" when we assured her that it would be a ratio of 6:1 adults to child with our granddaughter. UGH Then later in the afternoon we get the call from the husband that he can't do the dinner for any of us because it would be too close to check in time. Hmmmm Sally not happy. (The thing that gets me most is that apparently they were never going to tell us they were reneging on their promise. Not a good business plan.) So I leave Joe in charge of finding us a new inclement weather venue, and a new place to have our kids and us for dinner and I trot off to Virginia to lead a corn gleaning event. Aren't I nice?
IN THE MEANTIME: Once we set a date, I started looking for an appropriate dress. Tough to do with body issues, older bride, not a first-time bride, limited finances, and severely limited time. (Why on earth they tell a bride she needs a minimum of 9 months for a gown to come in is beyond me) I didn't want to look like a blob of whipped cream trying to appear 30 years younger but neither did I want to look like a grandmother of the bride - which is what a lot of "consultants" wanted to put me in. Then there was the shoppe that kept bringing me things that looked like they belonged on My Big Fat Greek Wedding. There were more plastic jewels on those dresses than you would find in 10 dollar stores combined. I spent many nights into the wee hours of the morning poring through Modcloth, and countless online knock off bridal sites. And I was scared of those. Finally, a friend said she would make me something. So we shopped for lace and patterns and found nothing in the latter. We did purchase some lace trim just in case. So we got together and outlined a skeletal design. She was leaving for the beach. When she got back I would be gone for cornland. Plan: Meet when we both got back and do this thing! I shopped online, again til the wee hours, for lace. Ordered it to come in from China. While I was away on my trip, her posts about her daughter's health were concerning. She eventually ended up in Geisinger - my friend was told to expect "at least a week." But we didn't lose faith. But I also didn't want her concerned, so as I was on grandkid duty immediately after my corn week, my DIL and I were again combing websites. Except now I only had a week and a half. And things from that mystical interweb have a tendency to come in under size. And maybe looking a heck of a lot better on the size 2 model than on a real person's body. (My apologies to anyone reading who may wear a size 2. It's kind of a #sorrynotsorry kind of thing for me. ) New plan - head to David's Bridal in Harrisburg on my way home and look at their "off the rack sale". Which has never ever ever been anything with which I've had success. Immediately in the door, I was "greeted" by Madam Snark. Who snorted and huffed about filling out a profile when a sales associate whisked me way. We found 3 dresses that actually closed on my body and didn't look like a 19 year old cream puff. But one was taffeta - for August? I don't think so. Another was approximate 6 sizes too large - more altering than I wanted to slam on my friend given the circumstances. Madam Snark is still at this point, nipping at my heels. I settled on the 3rd. But it didn't have lace. I wanted lace. Got it home - my friend came over, zipped it up and the whole zipper head popped off. We are now at something like T-minus 5 days, and sweating. Her daughter is still at this point, not definitively diagnosed and still very ill but home. She assures me she can replace zippers with her eyes closed. And the lace trim we bought 6 weeks ago will look beautiful edging the neckline and hemline. So now my thing is to find something of color for the dress (another thing in that dream category) and some shoes that aren't stupid. Shoe shopping for me is a near impossibility without any pressures riding on it. So this should be a fun endeavor! :/ Frustration ensues until I give up and decide to wear the shoes from a previous wedding. Except I want them to be snazzy. Of course I do! Because we have less than a week and I am ALWAYS unreasonable when I am under pressure. Remember that most stress-free wedding ever?? My nail gal gives me the coral polish she uses on my feet and I decide to paint the satin ribbon on the shoes to make them "not the shoes from another wedding." And Joe and I run to Altoona - the day before we are to get married, mind you - for something of color for the dress. It's one of those times when I don't know what I want, but I'll know it when I see it. Except I didn't. I settled on some coral-ish fabric roses and we head home - get the roses to my friend and go home for what is to be a relaxed evening. Maybe pack for the wedding trip - which we decide not to call the honeymoon because it's not the tropical island. Die hards, we are! I am on Facebook at about 8:15 p.m. when my friend messages and asks whether I have checked my phone messages. Nope - it's been off most of the day. "What's the problem?" I ask. "I'm need more lace, " she types. It is determined that our options are 1. get more lace or 2. remove the majority of the train. Easier for her is to add more lace. So, ascertaining that the lace place closes in 40 minutes and I live about 40 minutes away (this is Friday and I am praying that they don't close early because of lack of business), I go flying up I-99 - realizing that we bought this lace trim 6 weeks ago, and because this is a surplus place, they may not have any more of it - IF I EVEN RECOGNIZE IT because there are hundreds of bolts of trim there and I have not actually seen my chosen lace in 6 weeks! Stumble in, find the lace, buy it with 1 minute til closing, fly back to State College to my friend's house, lace in hand. I try on the dress with the new zipper. She is calm and reassuring. And tells me that she has to work early the next morning. So at 10 a.m. on Saturday, the dress arrives at my house, via her husband as the speedy delivery guy. And my shoes are painted - a project that got done just around midnight.
ALSO THE DAY BEFORE, Joe and I took a little trip out to the new B & B he had found (needless to say we cancelled our reservation at the other place and insisted that we not be charged the cancellation fee) to find a nice spot to stand to exchange vows. The lady had been sympathetic to our plight and was very gracious in helping us. When we popped in, she did tell us that because they had spent all year working on the inside of the inn, the grounds were not very well kept. We assured her we just wanted a pretty spot to stand - and we found one. It was only in taking pictures later, how right she had been - the flower gardens were somewhat sad looking to say the least. But definitely not the hill to die on!
IN THE END - it was a lovely day. A very humid, central Pennsylvania August day - and apparently the air conditioning in my room at the new inn, which I didn't have to pay extra to change my clothes in, was not working, so my hair was flat despite curling it no less than 25 times. We exchanged our vows under some trees by a cute little bridge at the Inn at Walnut Acres near Bellefonte with both of my sons, all 3 granddaughters, and 2 of Joe's kids, then enjoyed a fantastic meal at The Tavern restaurant (my favorite in this town for over 30 years) and the meal was deliciously topped off by incredible gourmet cupcakes by my friend and co-actor Veronica at Ida's Bakery. I had gorgeous flowers (I didn't even get into THAT fiasco here) and a replica bouquet sits in my living room because they were so beautiful that I cried when they withered and died. We had not told my sisters we were actually doing this for a number of reasons, and I think, and dearly hope, by now they have forgiven me the hurt that caused them.
It's been a good first year. A few curve balls here and there as life is wont to throw. But I do have 2 packages of stunningly beautiful lace that have a world of possibilities before them. And now year
# 2 is officially off and running and without any ghosts to usher its launch.
Tuesday, August 9, 2016
Wednesday, April 13, 2016
Life Goes On....5 Years Later
I've been thinking lately about people who were at one time an important part of my every day and how much I miss them. You know - those people who promise to stay in touch when one or both of you are heading into a new chapter in life. But people's lives are busy. And there's that "out of sight, out of mind" thing that happens. Today marks 5 years since I was informed I would be losing my job of 13 years in a school district not too far far away. And I'm still missing the friends I had there.
Thinking about those people also brings up a lot of other conflicting emotions, though. Ashamedly, despite the resolve I had when I sensed I was going to be one of the ones on the chopping block about which I posted here:
(http://sallysblogwithnoname.blogspot.com/2011/04/tears-at-dawn-eulogy-for-cherished.html), I find myself still having to battle a bit of bitterness. And there are a lot of reasons for that. I suppose the biggest one I struggle with is knowing that the school district this year hired a social worker to provide counseling to the very students I would have been serving - and having the knowledge that the reason they did not make the new position a counselor position was that I keep my furlough letter active and they would have had to hire me back. So they made it a social worker position. Ouch.
But there is also an upside to what has been allowed to happen in my life that may not have happened otherwise......
*** I was able to be available to my mother during the last year and a half of her life without having to worry about whether I was running out of sick/personal days. And although that was tough on the finances, I can't think of anything more worth losing money over.
*** I now have the opportunity to work in schools where I truly feel appreciated. And....when I leave the school at the end of my day, I am not affected by whatever politics, drama,gossip or curriculum/demand changes may be going on there. Granted, I also do not belong to any particular staff, but given the choice, I think I would choose feeling valued.
*** I have a boss who trusts me to do my job. Nobody is breathing down my neck - except for that ruthless, demanding so and so at my private practice :D
*** In order to make ends meet, for a time, I had to take a part time job I hated. But working at that job allowed me to meet some really cool people who have become good friends. Who share my office, or their pack and plays when I have twins coming to visit, or are mutual referral sources for business. And the best part is, the job was temporary but the relationships are not! Win win.
*** I have had the privilege to work with some incredibly interesting and inspiring people in my private practice. People of all ages. And it is awe-inspiring to be invited into someone's life to help them navigate the bumps in their respective roads. And when a few of those graduate next month and head off into the promises of their bright futures, I know I will shed a few tears.
*** Even though I work 11 hour days, and travel to 8 schools across 4 counties AND keep up a private practice, I am able to make my schedule flex to provide space for important events in the lives of my family members - like the arrival of grandchildren, or a son's wedding at The Wizarding World of Harry Potter .....
*** My summer actually does last until after Labor Day because most schools don't want itinerants starting until the 2nd full week of school! Woo hoo!
5 years seems like forever ago and it seems like yesterday. There's so much I feel like I've lost. And yet so much I have gained. I suppose it's possible to feel hurt and thankful at the same time. I suppose it's called growth.
Thinking about those people also brings up a lot of other conflicting emotions, though. Ashamedly, despite the resolve I had when I sensed I was going to be one of the ones on the chopping block about which I posted here:
(http://sallysblogwithnoname.blogspot.com/2011/04/tears-at-dawn-eulogy-for-cherished.html), I find myself still having to battle a bit of bitterness. And there are a lot of reasons for that. I suppose the biggest one I struggle with is knowing that the school district this year hired a social worker to provide counseling to the very students I would have been serving - and having the knowledge that the reason they did not make the new position a counselor position was that I keep my furlough letter active and they would have had to hire me back. So they made it a social worker position. Ouch.
But there is also an upside to what has been allowed to happen in my life that may not have happened otherwise......
*** I was able to be available to my mother during the last year and a half of her life without having to worry about whether I was running out of sick/personal days. And although that was tough on the finances, I can't think of anything more worth losing money over.
*** I now have the opportunity to work in schools where I truly feel appreciated. And....when I leave the school at the end of my day, I am not affected by whatever politics, drama,gossip or curriculum/demand changes may be going on there. Granted, I also do not belong to any particular staff, but given the choice, I think I would choose feeling valued.
*** I have a boss who trusts me to do my job. Nobody is breathing down my neck - except for that ruthless, demanding so and so at my private practice :D
*** In order to make ends meet, for a time, I had to take a part time job I hated. But working at that job allowed me to meet some really cool people who have become good friends. Who share my office, or their pack and plays when I have twins coming to visit, or are mutual referral sources for business. And the best part is, the job was temporary but the relationships are not! Win win.
*** I have had the privilege to work with some incredibly interesting and inspiring people in my private practice. People of all ages. And it is awe-inspiring to be invited into someone's life to help them navigate the bumps in their respective roads. And when a few of those graduate next month and head off into the promises of their bright futures, I know I will shed a few tears.
*** Even though I work 11 hour days, and travel to 8 schools across 4 counties AND keep up a private practice, I am able to make my schedule flex to provide space for important events in the lives of my family members - like the arrival of grandchildren, or a son's wedding at The Wizarding World of Harry Potter .....
*** My summer actually does last until after Labor Day because most schools don't want itinerants starting until the 2nd full week of school! Woo hoo!
5 years seems like forever ago and it seems like yesterday. There's so much I feel like I've lost. And yet so much I have gained. I suppose it's possible to feel hurt and thankful at the same time. I suppose it's called growth.
Sunday, January 17, 2016
5 Chairs at a Funeral
Today, January 16th was.....is....my mother's birthday. She would have been 89. I don't know how we would have spent it if she were still here, but I know I would have relished it and I would give my right arm if it were possible to spend another of her birthdays with her. I gave blood in her honor today because during one of her medical crises several years back, I watched as they brought in pints of blood for her and I was deeply grateful that someone had taken the time to donate. And I vowed to myself that I would make that a regular thing that I would do. But I haven't - which I confess with embarrassment and regret. So I figured today was a day to get back to that promise.
One thing I did not do was post it on Facebook. I considered it. I even sifted through a few pictures to find one I hadn't used, but still wasn't sure I was going to post anything. Then I dashed off to a meeting followed by my blood donation after which the car died so the rest of the day got a little topsy turvy. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have posted after all. I couldn't put my finger on my reason for wanting to post it - was it for attention? Kind of shallow. For sympathy? I'm sure I would have received plenty of likes and encouraging words, prayers, etc. Or perhaps it would have been just to make a statement of what is going on in my life at the moment - remembering my Mom. Missing my mom. Is that any less significant than an exciting new recipe, or the accomplishment of a family member, or a rant about a broken down car? Probably not.
I used to be annoyed when I saw posts about people passing away, or people remembering the anniversary of a loved one's passing. Or finding posts on the page of one who passed away. My immediate (and very immature and self-focused) thought was, "Why are you posting this? The person can't read it!" Ok - so there's something else I am embarrassed about. But after contemplating this practice for a while, and subsequently doing posts of my own when and since my mom left this earth, it occurred to me that social media is our virtual funeral home. Or cemetery. Or even makeshift roadside memorial. We visit these places to pay our respects, express our sadness. Seek support from our community. They are where we remember and honor someone we love. And so it is with Facebook et.al. We express the longings of our hearts. We are letting our friends know what is going on with us on a particular day. No different than a performance we are in, a vacation we're enjoying, a funny anecdote involving one or more of our children.
The past several days have seen the passing of two icons in the entertainment industry. And social media blew up with expressions of grief. We most likely never knew these folks personally but we feel a loss and we want our people to know how we feel. I admit I sat and cried when I saw that Alan Rickman had died. I don't usually do that. In the past few years, our own theatre community has lost 3 thespians whom many would call "giant goldfish" in our little theatrical fishbowl. And social media was abuzz and performances were dedicated to their memory. I have to admit, I wondered to myself whether any similar response would occur in the event of my own untimely death. We don't get the opportunity afforded George Bailey; to see how our life does touch another's. We don't know how we impact those around us unless they tell us. These ponderings remind me of what a woman I know has voiced, "If I died today, the custodian of the church would only need to set up 5 chairs for the funeral - one for each of my kids, one for my mom and maybe a couple for whatever siblings would be interested in coming, because I don't think anybody else would care if I was gone."
While it is fitting and most likely therapeutic to post our grief on social media, and to welcome the encouragement and outpouring that is likely to result, I can't help but think we should also be letting our loved ones know what they mean to us now. While they're still here. It's probably a little awkward to think about. We can look at our lives and see how one poor decision had the power to forever alter our lives and turn it inside out - conversely, we should look at our lives and acknowledge how any number of interactions have enriched our lives. Have saved us from ourselves. Rather than waiting until we are posting R.I.P. to a person known personally or an admired celebrity (and by the way, I personally hate R.I.P. - please don't post that to me when I go), wouldn't it be better to post a This Is How You Touch(ed) My Life post? (or better yet a personal note or conversation) Admittedly T.I.H.Y.T.M.L. isn't quite as concise, nor as easy to type but it will bring joy to sender and recipient alike. And make all their other friends wonder..... Let us not allow those important to us to wonder if there would be a need for more than 5 chairs at a funeral.
One thing I did not do was post it on Facebook. I considered it. I even sifted through a few pictures to find one I hadn't used, but still wasn't sure I was going to post anything. Then I dashed off to a meeting followed by my blood donation after which the car died so the rest of the day got a little topsy turvy. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have posted after all. I couldn't put my finger on my reason for wanting to post it - was it for attention? Kind of shallow. For sympathy? I'm sure I would have received plenty of likes and encouraging words, prayers, etc. Or perhaps it would have been just to make a statement of what is going on in my life at the moment - remembering my Mom. Missing my mom. Is that any less significant than an exciting new recipe, or the accomplishment of a family member, or a rant about a broken down car? Probably not.
I used to be annoyed when I saw posts about people passing away, or people remembering the anniversary of a loved one's passing. Or finding posts on the page of one who passed away. My immediate (and very immature and self-focused) thought was, "Why are you posting this? The person can't read it!" Ok - so there's something else I am embarrassed about. But after contemplating this practice for a while, and subsequently doing posts of my own when and since my mom left this earth, it occurred to me that social media is our virtual funeral home. Or cemetery. Or even makeshift roadside memorial. We visit these places to pay our respects, express our sadness. Seek support from our community. They are where we remember and honor someone we love. And so it is with Facebook et.al. We express the longings of our hearts. We are letting our friends know what is going on with us on a particular day. No different than a performance we are in, a vacation we're enjoying, a funny anecdote involving one or more of our children.
The past several days have seen the passing of two icons in the entertainment industry. And social media blew up with expressions of grief. We most likely never knew these folks personally but we feel a loss and we want our people to know how we feel. I admit I sat and cried when I saw that Alan Rickman had died. I don't usually do that. In the past few years, our own theatre community has lost 3 thespians whom many would call "giant goldfish" in our little theatrical fishbowl. And social media was abuzz and performances were dedicated to their memory. I have to admit, I wondered to myself whether any similar response would occur in the event of my own untimely death. We don't get the opportunity afforded George Bailey; to see how our life does touch another's. We don't know how we impact those around us unless they tell us. These ponderings remind me of what a woman I know has voiced, "If I died today, the custodian of the church would only need to set up 5 chairs for the funeral - one for each of my kids, one for my mom and maybe a couple for whatever siblings would be interested in coming, because I don't think anybody else would care if I was gone."
While it is fitting and most likely therapeutic to post our grief on social media, and to welcome the encouragement and outpouring that is likely to result, I can't help but think we should also be letting our loved ones know what they mean to us now. While they're still here. It's probably a little awkward to think about. We can look at our lives and see how one poor decision had the power to forever alter our lives and turn it inside out - conversely, we should look at our lives and acknowledge how any number of interactions have enriched our lives. Have saved us from ourselves. Rather than waiting until we are posting R.I.P. to a person known personally or an admired celebrity (and by the way, I personally hate R.I.P. - please don't post that to me when I go), wouldn't it be better to post a This Is How You Touch(ed) My Life post? (or better yet a personal note or conversation) Admittedly T.I.H.Y.T.M.L. isn't quite as concise, nor as easy to type but it will bring joy to sender and recipient alike. And make all their other friends wonder..... Let us not allow those important to us to wonder if there would be a need for more than 5 chairs at a funeral.
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