I just celebrated a BIG one. And once you hit a certain age, they ALL seem BIG!

As I usually do, today I started my morning with coffee, a Dug snuggle, a couple biscotti and because it’s Saturday in the fall, ESPN Game Day. I also had my laptop out and read and shared the daily FB post from Heather Cox Richardson.

As I already had FB up, I scrolled a bit to see what else was there. A friend from my hometown, Vicki had a post about her search for a better “quality of life”. She wrote that she had reached out to a friend and at the end of their conversation she realized that she had much to be grateful for in her life; she wasn’t suffering any deep, great traumas like others and she posted her story on FB. A friend of hers commented on her post – “I have a friend who always seems happy. Whenever I ask how she’s doing she almost always tells me what she is grateful for…”

And that got me to thinking about those somewhat awkward moments when people, strangers and acquaintances, ask me how I’m doing (e.g. the cashier at Trader Joe”s, the administrator who checks me in at the doctor’s office, the person I regularly pass when I’m out for a walk, etc.). I never quite feel satisfied by my response. It usually goes something like this – Them: “How are you today?” Me: “Great. How about you?” Them: “Fine, thank you. Have a great day!” Me: “Thanks. You, too!” And off we go to the next…

Vicki’s friend’s response on FB got me to thinking…what if the conversations went something like this…

Them: How are you today?

Me: I’m great. We had Thai food for family dinner last night. How are you?

Or…I’m great – Dug, the Dog didn’t wake me up last night. And you – Did you get a good sleep?

Or…I’m well – the fall colors give me such joy. Do you have a favorite fall tree?

Or…I’m satisfied – I updated my pharmacy plan and got a huge savings – with thanks to Beth, our genius Medicare advisor! Do you have any good news?

Or…I’m excited – Glen found a music event in Grass Valley and a great hotel for a quick getaway! Have you had something to look forward to recently?

Or…I’m lucky – I got to spend my birthday eve and day in The City with friends. Do you have a favorite place to celebrate?

Or…I’m excited – I get to go to Boise tomorrow to visit a friend (and winter) and Blair and Glen will take good care of Dug. Where do you like to go in winter?

It seems like it could be a simple way to be more authentically engaged with people, to increase the endorphins released by expressing gratitude, and to remind myself of ALL the small things that make up this BIG adventure called life!

Thank you Vicki and Stephanie! I appreciate how your exchange sparked my thinking and the opportunity to focus on gratitude on this issue beautiful fall morning!

I love language. I love new (to me) words. Recently, Heather Cox Richardson (HCR) used a word, zeitgeist and indicated that it explained the phenomenon of when one notices something and then suddenly they find it everywhere. I can’t even remember what she was talking about at the time, but it made me think of my last post The Last Last. More on that in a minute.

As I sat down to write this post, I thought I should check the spelling of zeitgeist. I spelled it correctly, but when I read the definition, it didn’t really conform to how I was thinking about the word. So I dug a little deeper and googled my definition/understanding of the word and it turns out there’s a whole different term for that phenomenon. That is called the Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon. And if you need a definition of that…here you go…“I just heard of the Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon and now I see it everywhere”. Hahaha….

I remember when I was first pregnant, it seemed that everywhere I went there were pregnant women. Or I got a blue car and then I saw SO many blue cars on the road. You have your own examples.

Now back to HCR and zeitgeist. I’ve been racking my brain trying to remember the context of her use of the word. I know it had to do with her sense of the common topics being discussed everywhere she goes. And she’s been all over the country with her book talks. I remember she noticed a common topic everywhere…but I can’t remember what it was and it’s driving me crazy. I do remember she also used the phrase…what’s “out there”…what’s the commonality “out there”…But I also know that it had to do with events and conversations happening in our country which leans into the definition of zeitgeist – the spirit of time, the general trend of thought, feeling, or tastes of a particular time. (Dictionary .com) AND I remember she had a positive sense about this zeitgeist she is currently experiencing as she traverses the country, reads newspapers, blogs, etc. All in all…that’s some positive news to me.

So in my case the Baader-Meinhoff Phenomenon is a better match for my Last Last thinking. I know. You probably thought I’d never get to the point of this post, huh!?

Well, as I wrote that post, I started seeing other writings about the last…One in particular was just a question posted on Threads and I can’t even find the original post. But some responses got me to reflecting on the concept of last a bit more.

I’ll just share a few with you without comment (if I’m able to restrain myself).

I’m going to start with the one that left me a bit blue. It may be true, but it’s not how I like to think about life. hish_mat: Most things are temporary.

Phew. Got that one out of the way.

Now for some other responses to the Threads question about lasts…and I think that there is some zeitgeist in many of the responses. I’ll be curious to hear your thinking.

iamshahmirr: Accepting the concept of ‘last times’ is undeniably painful, but it’s a testament to the beautiful moments we’ve cherished. Embrace each moment with gratitude, for these instances shape our lives, leaving an indelible mark of love and cherished memories.

beloveceo: Remember to cherish the present, express love and gratitude to those you care about and create meaningful memories because, in the grand story of our lives, every moment matters.

briaenyce: I think of the last as memories I get to keep forever.

cjcongdon: The veil of forgetting is a gift. If you knew this was the last time, you’d do things differently, but that is not what you would naturally do. It’s not the last time that counts, it’s the best time. Just do things naturally, with a loving spirit.

bethg004: I try to look at it as honoring the moment, to not be sad it’s over; to keep the moment sacred.

hannah2me28: you enjoy it. you enjoy the first time, and you enjoy the second time, and the 3rd and the 4th. and then you stop thinking about how special that kiss, that hug, that tuck into bed is, and suddenly it’s the 47th time and you’re thinking about how this one thing has happened so many times you’ve lost count. and you enjoy it. you enjoy the fact that you’ve gotten to do something you love so many times you can’t keep track. and perhaps you preemptively grieve the fact there will be a last time

While this is my/our 201st blog post (how can that be???)…it won’t be the last.

Oh..how could I not include some photos???? Here are a few from the last month or two…

Okay – here’s a topic that might spark some conversations.

Remember when our kids were little and we marked all of their “firsts”? First word. First step. First tooth. First successful potty trip. First prom. First driving experience. First college drop off (because sometimes there is more than one)? So many firsts to celebrate.

What about the “first last”?

When was the last time my baby boy crawled up in my lap for a nap? When was the last time my baby girl reached for my hand to cross the street? When did my mom last say my name knowing it was me? When was the last time my dad washed my windshield before I drove home? I wish I knew those lasts.

I’ve been listening to a GREAT podcast by Julia Luis Dreyfus called “Wiser Than Me”. (Here you go and you’re welcome.)

Wiser Than Me with Julia Louis-Dreyfus Lemonada

Applehttps://podcasts.apple.com › podcast › wiser-than-me-…

I think it was her interview of Ruth Reichel where they talked about aging and how we start to have new thoughts as we get older. For example, Ruth is thinking…when her cats die, will she be too old to get more? Will she live long enough to care for them? Ouch. There’s a certain finite aspect of that thought.

And yet, I’ve had the same thought. Dug, – the love of my life – it’s okay, my kids and husband know – is nine. I’ll likely outlive him and I’ll mourn him desperately, but will he have to be my last pup? Will I be too old to have another? What’s life without a pup?

And a bit on the shallower side of this thinking…I love my car. It’s a chambray blue convertible bug. It’s also nine years old (with low miles because after all…I am the little old lady from – well NOT Pasadena, but LA?). I’ve told Glen that I’ll never get rid of it. It doesn’t have any of the bells or whistles of newer cars. I mean, I could really use those back up cameras, but it let’s me put the top down so my gray hair can blow in the wind while I sing my favorite pop songs…think Pink, Fleetwood Mac, The Spice Girls – yes, it’s true, – Joss Stone (look her up), The Motels, Adele, Ricky Martin, Christina Aguilera, Shania Twain, Bruce Springsteen, …you get my vibe. But will it be my…last car?

Are these the kind of new thoughts that I’ll have to start weighing as I get older? Is this my last…?

And don’t get Glen started on famous Densmore “lasts”. My grandmother had about twenty “last” Thanksgiving dinners. I just made a comment to Glen that this Thanksgiving might be the “last” time to get the family together in LA. He just laughed. And rolled his eyes.

But you know what I didn’t see coming as a last? It was way to soon…Our last holiday with my sister who hosted EVERY holiday throughout our children’s childhood. There was no opportunity to say good bye to that important tradition in our lives. It just ended. Abruptly. Without warning. (I still miss her every day, but especially at the holidays.)

Yikes. That took a turn. But truthfully…how often do we know that something is our “last” something?

Glen and I are currently in New York City. Oh my, how I love this place. As mentioned in previous posts, we spent three months in Brooklyn at the beginning of my/our retirement. (It was Glen’s semi-retirement.) We really loved getting to know New York – especially Brooklyn and Manhattan.

When we arrived the other night and walked out of the airport…ahhhh…the smells – dank, grungy, fumey (is that a word?), lived-in smells. And that’s before we hit the neighborhood on TRASH day. Wait…I think EVERY day is trash day in NYC! And the sounds – horns blaring, people shouting at drivers, taxi drivers hollering for rides, security guys telling people to “move on”, the guy who gave Glen side eye and when he saw me looking askance at him told me to “mind your own damn business”, sirens…constant sirens. Ahhh. New York.

Today is our last day here. Argh. I said it…last. In our short trip we’ve packed a lot of experiences and tried to balance it with a pace that is doable for these older (aching) bodies. I don’t have a sense that this is our last trip to NYC, but it’s a BIG place so could this be our last stop at some favorite places? We went to the Brooklyn Museum to see the Spike Lee exhibit. We went a couple times when we were here a few years ago. Will we be back there on another trip? Was that our last Brooklyn Museum visit?

This morning I’m over in our old BedStuy “hood” to visit my favorite bakery and coffee shop on Halsey. Did I just have my last Saraghina croissant? I hope not. Because…it’s only a last time if you let it be a last time…

Unless you just don’t know. Ugh.

As a child, there were places that my family vacationed where we returned again and again. And by vacation...I mean camped in a tent. In the rain. In the snow. In the heat. I loved it.

Tuolumne Meadows was a favorite spot for years. In the last several years I’ve been there for a few reasons – starting with picking up Mike, our friend, the PCT backpacker. (He didn’t know that he was doing me a favor giving me an excuse to make a run up the mountain.) Then I dragged a few hardy friends up to stay in the rustic tent cabins for a night. They humored me on that one. Blair went with me for a quick day trip to celebrate my dad (code for scattering some ashes). The two of us hiked to the top of Lembert Dome, wandered through the campground, had a burger and cone in the tent café, and then made the long drive home…all in a day. It was quite the emotional day.

Dad was a John Muir Trail backpacker far longer than his family thought was safe, but it was his happy place. It was his home so we didn’t argue. We just held our breath until he returned home – dusty and tired, but happy. Many years ago, he likely had a heart attack on the trail when he was with his buddy John. There was definitely some sort of health incident on that hike, but John managed to escort him safely home. And of course, he was fine when he got home so why go to the doctor? Many years after that incident when he was being tested for some illness, the doctor asked him when he had his heart attack. Yep. Dad was a strong and stubborn bugger.

So like my dad, Tuolumne remains one of my homes. That place where I just go….ahhhhhh…..

Glen and I just spent a month in Whitefish, Montana at a house on the lake. That’s an immediate aahhhhhh for me. I’ve come to realize that water…any sort of water creates a home in my soul. But…is Whitefish a home for me? As Glen says, it’s complicated. As with all homes, there are good memories and some not-so-good memories. We’ve been coming to Whitefish for decades. Glen came with a group of buddies for golf the first time, then we started coming with the kids for winter skiing and summer lake fun. Here’s a bit of the history that makes our Whitefish story…

Many years ago, we loved Whitefish and Montana so much that we bought property there. Not just some house or condo in town, but 90+ acres outside of town. It was in a field with a ridge in the middle, a creek on the edge, a view of the mountains, and it was on “Farm to Market Road”. What could be more “country”? We also had a couple 4-plex apartments and a lot in town with plans to build a “live-work” building. Part-time living in Montana was in our future. Then…Glen got sick and 2008 happened. During that rough patch, I spent my nights trying to get to sleep by dreaming of the house we were going to build on the 90 acres. In my mind, I designed the house inside and out until eventually, amid the worry, I was able to fall asleep. So our story took a twist that we didn’t see coming and instead of a dream, Whitefish became a challenge to overcome though not quite a nightmare, for me anyway.

Glen’s a genius and he maneuvered us through the challenges of that time (his physical and our financial), but it changed our relationship with Whitefish. Was it still our happy place? Did it still feel like home? Could we create a new relationship with it? We weren’t sure. We had to test it. So after many years away, one summer we came back to Whitefish for a month. It felt pretty good. And we tried it again. And we came in winter and…pretty soon though we knew we’d never live in Whitefish and we definitely weren’t going to be property owners, but we could be respectful visitors with history and we started creating a new Whitefish story for us.

Then I retired and we started our new life of travel. Let me define our version of travel. We like to go someplace and stay for at least a month, preferably a couple months. So a few years ago we went to Brooklyn for three months. Loved it. Loved the long-term, get-to-know- the place and people, actually live in the place kind of travel.

Last year we were in Europe for a four month trip. About half way through, we knew that Glen’s health wasn’t right so we were going to have to cut our trip short. I vividly remember sitting on the couch in our apartment in Nice as we made plans to come home and we were (okay…I was) feeling sorry for ourselves. (I know. Ridiculous to feel sorry for oneself while sitting in Nice.) I think it was me who said…Hey we can go to Whitefish next year. And we can get a house on the lake. And I started researching Airbnb until I found the perfect house and I rented it from the couch in Nice for the following summer. For us, that was a very spontaneous act. We usually ponder these travels for a long time before we actually rent a residence (without the ability to cancel-yikes).

So, we came home from Europe and Glen began his adjustment to his new life and we had almost a year to look forward to Whitefish. We did sneak in a month in Hawaii last spring.

So back to the beginning…with a house on the lake – ahhhhhhh – summer solstice providing L O N G days, and views of sunset over the lake every night, we tested our relationship with Whitefish. Was it still home? Glen’s new physical reality meant that he had to do some deep thinking about his relationship with Whitefish. While he could be there, he couldn’t experience the mountains the way he used to…no hiking for him. And what’s Whitefish without Glacier?

So while it immediately felt like my home, would it feel like our home? I’m not sure that’s been answered for Glen. Seems like every question leads to another question rather than an answer…

What is home?

Not to be morose or anything…but we are all inhabiting this place for a finite amount of time. Right? And how we approach our “time” can make a difference in how we view our “time”. Vague, I know. Here’s what I’ve been thinking…bear with me.

It started with a newsletter that I receive from Nancy Kho of the “Thank You Project”. I read and subsequently selected her book for Book Club several years ago. Her premise was that if we write notes or letters to thank people/places/things in our lives that have impacted our life (in good ways and bad), it will increase our satisfaction in life. I read her book during our COVID shut down and had plenty of time on my hands so I tried out her theory and wrote notes of appreciation to a long list of people from my past and present. It was very satisfying for me and I hope for the recipients – at least for those people and places that could actually read them! I continue to try to practice this strategy – even if sometimes I’m just writing the note “in my head”.

In a recent newsletter from Nancy (who by the way, lives in Oakland), she shared a conversation she had with her niece who shared the “TR” concept or “Time Remaining”. Her niece had learned from a wise, “mature” Scottish woman that since “we don’t know how much time we have” (TR), she and her friends think about and talk about everything they can do with their TR. Nancy has taken “TR” as code for reconsidering her values, goals and aspirations and then changing some things in her life.

Hmmm…

Then I read a long tweet from “JD” on Memorial Day. He told the story of his “inseparable” friends sitting on a beach drinking whiskey before they each were deployed and making a pact that should any one of them die in their upcoming deployments, the others would return to this spot on the beach and toss his dog tags into the ocean. They went further and agreed that every year they’d return at sunrise and pour a shot of whiskey into the rolling waves. JD went on to share that he never imagined that he’d be the only survivor returning to the beach every year. He reflected on trying to understand why he’s been left to live his life and he wondered if he’s living a life worthy of his friends. He honors his friends by remembering that there are amazing people all around who demonstrate the “purest love” for their neighbors, who do the “right thing”, and who have an “intense capacity for kindness”. He closed his tweet by saying that he has no idea when his “number will be called” (none of us-or at least few of us do), but he will pursue a life filled with purpose and focused on the things that really matter – taking care of each other.

Sounds like he’s making the most of his TR to honor his friends.

I recently read a piece in the NYT (The Daily) that got me to thinking…The author remembered a voicemail from the neighborhood cobbler telling him that his shoes were ready to pick up. He said that the cobbler was a “grumpy guy” so the message was short and terse. But he noticed that he ended his message not with “bye” or “have a good day”. He signed off with “Enjoy your time.” He thought about that message and it made him think about the finality of “have a good day”. Should we only enjoy that day? Are there other time periods we should be striving to enjoy?

As Nancy learned through her niece, since we don’t know our “TR”, shouldn’t we be enjoying our “time”? All of our time? “Enjoy your time” seems like an excellent alternative. I’m going to try to remember that sign off.

And yesterday, I participated remotely in the Chico State University Foundation Board meeting. We closed our session with an activity called “Values Auction”. It wasn’t unlike other values clarification processes I’ve participated in (or led), but as I’ve been thinking about my TR, it caused me to think of it a bit differently. We were asked to toss out words that described why we are active members on this Board. There were many thrown onto the chart – “relationships” being a common value, but others such as compassion, education, opportunity, also rose to the top. The word I threw out was “service”. I hadn’t really thought of that word (value) as being so important to me, but as I have been reflecting on the meaning of my TR, it really felt right. “Service” describes how I want to spend my “time remaining”.

So it seems appropriate that I end with my “thank you letter to Chico State”:

It’s with a full heart – full of gratitude and joy – that I want to publicly thank Chico State for shaping me as a young adult, for providing me with opportunities to grow, for instilling a sense of purpose, for educating me academically, but also in how to work in a community with compassion and care. For teaching me how to have a good time and still get my work done. For the importance of relationships at the front of EVERY task and for helping me to stop and enjoy the beauty around me. (I mean…have you ever seen that campus? Absolutely stunning.)

Thank you to Nancy, JD, The Daily, and Chico State for helping me to reflect on my TR.

Enjoy your time!

Generally, I think retirement is different for women and men though I should probably just speak for myself. As a first grade teacher, I always said that when I couldn’t sit “criss cross applesauce” anymore, it was time to go. Well…I could still make it down (getting up was not pretty), but there were other signs. So when the opportunity came (I might have nudged it a bit…), I wholeheartedly said YES, PLEASE! Before I move on to the real purpose of this post, please know that I LOVED my career and I did not take leaving it lightly, but I also knew that the pace was taxing, my patience was not as good as the kids deserved, and my expectations for myself were harder to meet as time went by…so in 2019, I retired thankfully before COVID hit. And here it is almost 4 years later and I can confirm that retirement is EVERYTHING it’s cracked up to be!

Jump forward 3 1/2 years and it was Glen’s turn to contemplate “retirement” – whatever that meant to him. His situation was completely different from mine and his process for determining his path was different from mine and eventually…he came to the same, or maybe a similar place as I did…As he likes to say, “Six Saturdays and a Sunday” didn’t sound all bad!

Last week TYS, the CPA firm Glen and his colleague, Chris founded, held a retirement event for Glen in a suite at an A’s game. If you know Glen, you know that he’s been an A’s fan his entire life – through the good, the great, and the ugly so this seemed like the perfect way to celebrate his incredible career. The entire firm was in town so it gave them all the opportunity to reminisce with Glen and enjoy the beautiful Coliseum atmosphere (that’s another sad post). Glen also invited a few clients and of course, Niels, Blair and I were there. It was a beautiful day for baseball (the A’s lost), and I think everyone had a great time.

In the days before the game, I thought about Glen’s career and considered preparing a few “words” to share. As I reflected, I think what really stood out was the profound impact he has had on the careers of so many others – be they clients (who, more often than not, became his friends), and everyone else who passed through the firm from intern to partner. Understanding his impact really hit home for me when on that infamous Friday in March 2020, Glen, Niels, and Blair all walked through the front door and called “dibs” on their new office space in the house that I thought was going to be my castle during retirement! What I learned during those months (years) is that all three of them are incredibly talented, caring, and skilled. I enjoyed hearing and seeing them in their roles and was just completely wowed by their professionalism. I witnessed the positive impact Glen has had on his “kids” as they make their way in their own careers. But what I learned and began to appreciate about Glen is that he is not only an accountant – for sure a gifted mathematician – he’s also a planner, financial advisor, teacher, counselor, therapist, consultant, confidant, guide, sage, mediator, futurist, and oh yeah…a CPA.

What I really came here to do is share my memory of Glen’s career. I most assuredly got some details and dates wrong, but the following is the gist of his accomplishments as I remember them – and they are many. Please indulge me…Glen has always loved baseball and I think that we can liken his career to a baseball game.

We’ll start with: Spring Training aka The Years at Chico State

Glen likes to tell anyone who will listen that “all the good stuff in his life began at Chico”. He took a crooked path to get there – I think he was a “freshman” for something like 7 years before he made it Chico, but when he got there, he knew what he wanted to do…and it wasn’t attend class and study. Not being the most focused student, he did learn how to stay awake for long hours which was good training for becoming an accountant and getting through “busy season”. However, he didn’t get that training in the library, I’ll let him tell those stories, but he did learn how to get up after an “all nighter” and get to his earliest class at 1:00 pm. See…great training for the run-up to all the April 15ths of his career! He actually did get a great education, made lifelong friends, and has stayed connected to the University through the years.

His First Hit – A Single at Jones and Marzluft, later JHS

Glen began his career in Danville with the CPA firm, Jones and Marzluft. Rumor has it that as he was being considered for a position, an employee who was a Chico State grad and knew Glen from their shared accounting classes, recommended that they NOT hire Glen…hahaha. Good thing someone on that hiring team saw his potential!

It was during this time that I met Glen in Chico at The Bear 2 years post-graduation…another “Chico good thing” in my opinion. There were stories about his job – learning to stay focused when working the phones in the ” bullpen”, wild drunken work parties, trips to clients in Kansas and Denver, and a firm basketball team. The office team members were excited for the season when they saw this new 6’6” guy join the team. How could they lose with him under the basket? Glen will have to tell you his version of that story. It has to do with jumping skills.

It was here where he developed lifelong relationships with colleagues and clients. He learned his craft with the support of his mentors, including partners, managers, and peers. He learned how to close a deal and how to provide remarkable service, expertise, knowledge, and creative problem-solving. After all, he is the master problem solver.

After a brief stint opening a JM office in Orange County and then working for a client outside of public accounting, (plus a wedding and a baby), he returned to Jones and Marzluft in Danville and became a partner and then managing partner, but there was always his desire to have something more, something different – to create a different kind of firm.

Glen and Chris dared to dream and began building the concept of a something new. Tobin joined them in their shared ideals and…

A Double – Thomas York Was Born!

Glen and Chris had the fire to create something different – something that “could be”. They were a great team, largely because they were so different. They were eyes wide-open and their unique approaches and creative thinking provided balance, allowing them to create the “what could be”. They were wise enough to know that they needed support so they brought in important players to help them build out their vision – Jim Kelly, Boomer, Jim Gebhardt, and many more “influencers” (before “influencers” were a thing!) provided them guidance, helped them formulate their model, and gave them the “juice” that they needed to build Thomas York.

I think this is the period where Glen really hit his stride. He was having a blast being creative and I think he really “hit his groove” in those early days. I believe it was during this time that he really developed his unique communication style, peppering his conversations with riddles, “isms”, mottos, one-liners – call them what you may – they helped him get his point across! Mind you, sometimes those one-liners made us all roll our eyes, but they were definitely part of what makes Glen successful in communicating his ideas. I should ask his colleagues to share their favorites with us!

BTW…Shout out to our son, Niels. It was during this time that he began developing his accounting chops. He worked for Thomas York before he enrolled at Chico State. (Yes, his Chico grad parents couldn’t have been prouder!) TY provided him great background experience which gave him a leg up when he entered as an accounting major.

As Thomas York was just rolling, Glen had a life-changing event and he hit an unlikely…

Triple  – Also Known as His “Greatest Accomplishment”

Eight months after Thomas York got started, Glen was diagnosed with cancer and thus began the greatest fight of his life which he also calls his greatest and truest gift. During his long, challenging treatment and an even longer recovery, he was supported by Chris, the Thomas York staff, and all of his clients. They allowed him the time and space he needed to regain his health. Knowing that the firm was waiting for him to return was a major contributor to Glen’s ability to fight and eventually thrive. It didn’t take long after he was back in the office to realize that he was still dreaming about what could be and he rekindled a relationship with Tim whom he’d met earlier in the TY history and it was a…

Home Run – TYS – An Even Better Iteration of the Dream

Tim joined Chris and Glen and at the beginning, Glen’s trips to Rochester were frequent! What was really wonderful was that he was able to make the trips – a feat that was not guaranteed just a short time earlier. What’s even better? At TYS, Blair also found her talents and skills. It’s true that both Blair and Niels have learned so much from their dad. They have a set of values and skills that guide them in their careers: work ethic, problem-solving, communication, project managing and myriad other necessary accounting/business skills (including soft skills) that I can’t even label! Hey – now that I think about it…I realize that I am the only Thomas who hasn’t worked for the firm…hmmm…Should I have a turn?

As Glen was preparing for his “change of life” (let’s not call it retirement), he began the slow process of handing over the reigns to the next generation. We started traveling which made it easier for him to step aside, step down and be proud of what he and Chris created.

Robert Reich recently wrote about his retirement. He noted that “to retire” historically has meant to go into seclusion. I think we need a new term for what happens after you leave your profession, your calling, your career. Reich quotes Oliver Wendell Holmes who said, people “do not quit playing because they grow old; they grow old because they quit playing.”

So as Glen rounds the diamond of his career, I’m reminded of a favorite Glenism…He always called work “play” because as he says…if you love what you do, it’s not work.

What will be Glen’s next game?

Noodling around on this lazy Sunday morning and I came across something I’d recorded on my phone. Why would I be recording on my phone, you ask? Okay, maybe you didn’t, but here’s why.

When I drive to LA, I often listen to podcasts or books to pass the time. I mean, let’s face it..in the 40+ years I’ve been up and down I-5 gazillions of times with most of the drive a snoozer…and as soon as I say that…I get images of the beauty of California even in its less desirable locations…but okay…that’s another post.

Anyway, when I’m driving and listening, I often hear a nugget or idea that I don’t want to forget and the downside of listening to something versus reading (while driving 🤪) is that you can’t easily highlight, take notes, add a post it, etc. Especially while driving!

So how do I solve that problem? I hit “record” on my phone and take a verbal note. And then I promptly forget that it’s there until one day when I’m randomly scrolling around or I hear something else weeks or months later that I want to record and see these notes listed as “I-5 S” which is how my phone labels my recorded notes taken while driving down I-5. Since the label is cryptic, I have no idea what this note is about and most of the time I just move on past and record a new note…to also forget.

But…When life and I slow down and I decide to stop and take a listen…my memory is jogged and sometimes…I actually find an interesting nugget! And I have a bunch of these “I-5” notes because it’s a frequent, long, boring drive!

I digress. So today, I was sitting on the beach listening to a book that Glen has asked me to read. There was a thought I wanted to remember so I opened my phone to record a note. Per usual, I got distracted by all those I-5 notes, started listening to them and promptly forgot the thought I had wanted to record from the book. Maybe I’ll remember later?

So what did I find on my phone today? A few nuggets about a switch in how to think about problems. First, I’ll admit that I’m not a fan problems. I mean, do people really like problems? I think that some do. Glen, for example, loves a good problem and is a master of breaking it down into chunks and solving it in a systematic, thoughtful, logical way. Whereas I’m all emotion and reaction and WAAAAHHH!!! (Hey Allison – I know you’re relating to this!)

The nugget in this podcast or book I was listening to was about switching to thinking of a problem as a puzzle. I mean, who doesn’t love to play with a puzzle? And the author (sorry-i can’t credit the author because I didn’t record it in my notes) offered a symbolic way of thinking about problem solving.

❓➡️❗️

Simple, right? State the problem, move forward to the solution and voila!! Problem solved. Whoever came up with that symbolism is whacko! Right? I mean that’s WAY simplistic. Are there some solutions that obvious and easy? Sure. Like should I have a second cup of coffee? Duh. Should I wear these black sandals or those? Not as easy 🤪 What should I have for dinner? This one can be a challenge for me, but not for Glen these days. (That’s another post.) But are all or even most problems that easy? No. At least not for me.

Here’s my symbol:

❓➡️⬆️⏪️↗️➡️⬇️⏯️↔️↕️➡️🌀🆒🔄‼️⁉️

That last !? is self-doubt, but that’s another post! And I’m going to try this “puzzle” approach to problem solving…stay tuned…

Kids are so real…and I could take a lesson.

I had the privilege and joy of working in a bilingual/dual immersion Kindergarten classroom at Cambridge this morning. Be still my heart. Such joy!

I was just an extra set of hands and eyes in the classroom as the teacher went about her regular daily routine…on “pijama” (aka “piyama”) day and the day before spring break which tells you that there was absolutely nothing routine about the day! I fell right into “teacher mode” as soon as I stepped into the room and found myself helping with putting things away, getting students to the rug, and answering myriad questions.

About mid morning, after Spanish instruction, the kids were sent to their seats to get out their workbooks and pull out “page 296”. That was a challenge unto itself! After helping them get their booklets prepared, I just meandered among the tables seeing where a smidge of assistance might be needed. These 5-6 year olds are actually READING!!! (Their teacher is phenomenal.)

I immediately was drawn to a boy in green Hulk “pijamas” who not only wasn’t participating in the reading activity, he hadn’t even pulled out the page. I pulled up a chair next to him (a very small kindergarten-sized chair), as I observed his avoidance strategies – aka – fiddling around. He was poking his neighbor, picking at his pencil, etc. He clearly was struggling to figure out the reading process, but boy oh boy, he has figured out how to avoid it! But never fear, Ms. D-T to the rescue! Hahaha…if only…

As we got started working on the “sílabas”, he immediately started poking at my hand, noticing my dry skin and he asked “¿Qué pasó?. With my very best “you’re so sweet to ask, but this is not our task” face, I glanced at him and ignored his pokes and his question. This was not my first rodeo and I had a whole bag of tricks I could use to entice him to look at the book instead of my dry winter hands. Back to the book…

When his pokes and question failed to distract ME from our task, he started poking my arm and plugging his nose as he looked at me. I had to curtail my smile when he asked me why I smelled like coffee which reminded me of all the years that kids told me I smelled like coffee – some said they liked the smell, others not so much.

Well here’s the real real…this little one clearly did not like the smell of coffee and he told me that I needed to “cepillarse los dientes”. (Don’t judge my Spanish if I got it wrong!)

Oh my gosh. I can’t wait to go back to Kindergarten!!!

I’ve been thinking about home for awhile. I just checked the dictionary definition – home: a house, apartment, or other shelter that is the usual residence of a person, family or household – a place where one lives…hmmm…

As a kid, I lived in the same community for 21 years. I did live in three homes, but always in the same town. This community of La Crescenta was home to me. So much so that when I was 14 and my parents told me they wanted to move one town away, I threw huge teenage girl tantrums until they gave up on that idea.

Then came college and I reluctantly left my home and moved to Chico in northern California. I say reluctantly because though I desperately wanted out of LA, I’d never lived anywhere else and Chico was a long way from home. My family went to great efforts to help me create a space in which I’d feel at home, but oh boy…was I homesick that first semester.

Like many of us who left our homes for college or other adventures, the first year was rough. I missed home – I missed my friends, my family and my community. I did not miss the “structure” that was my home. In fact, my parents waited until I left and then they made that move so when I came back, I had a new bedroom in a new condo in that “one town away” location. That’s when I really understood that home had very little to do with housing; it had everything to do with the people and the comfort of being safe, warm and loved – the place where we feel most comfortable.

I recently read one person’s definition of home and it sent me down a different path – home means a future. During my career, I worked with families who were in search of the home that would mean they had a future – a safe, secure future where they would be accepted and included and live the “American dream”. I’m reading a book – Invisible Child: Poverty, Survival, and Hope in an American City by Andrea Elliott. The author is a journalist who followed a family who frequently moved between public housing projects in NYC. She specifically followed Dasani, the eldest daughter. This book gives me a whole new appreciation of the impact of being “unhoused, homeless” or without a home and the effort that people in this situation go to to create a home.

I digress…this brings me back to 1980 when I moved to Chico as a junior in college. My first home was a studio apartment. I lived by myself and truth be told, I was lonely. I quickly found my people though and created my own sense of home which was really my community, not a structure where I lived. My second year, Therese, a friend from LA, (with whom I had breakfast yesterday!) moved to Chico to go to school and we created our home together for two years. In these 3 short years (followed by another two years after my stint in Salinas which never felt like home), I knew that Chico would always be a home for me.

I’m rambling…Short story long…Glen and I met in Chico where I had moved for a dream job in my dream community and I never intended to leave. But…love called and I followed him to Orange County (first Irvine then San Clemente) where we created a home near the beach, got married, had Niels and…ended up leaving because…well…that’s another blog post.

And the “end” of the story? We ended up in Walnut Creek for 30+ years where we have a wonderful home – by all definitions. And yet…

Here I am today…sitting at a rooftop café in Chico enjoying an afternoon coffee. I am looking down Broadway toward the University.

I can see the “new” city plaza with its fountain, bandstand, benches and quite a few people who likely call the plaza their home.

I can see “our” hotel, The Diamond, where we are at home when we come to Chico.

I’m thinking about all of our travel and the places where we really feel we could create a home. (Some of you may know that we actually went brownstone shopping in Brooklyn a couple years ago.)

Which brings me back to Chico. A place where I feel at home.

A place where I take a deep breath and say….ahhhhh. I’m home.

Okay. Truth be told…I’m at one of my homes!

Where are your homes?

I wrote this in December. November? Got frustrated adding photos. Stepped away…for weeks. Now I’m in Phoenix at the airport waiting my flight to Honolulu. Stay tuned…

You know how those little moments happen and cause you to reflect? Almost like a déjà vu? And then one of those little reflections leads you to another?

Here’s one from today*…I was standing at the bathroom sink when Dug came wandering in and wrapped himself on the mat around my feet. The memory moment came as I was reminded about the hundreds of days that he had done that while I was getting ready for work in the morning…at o’dark hundred. He used to follow me from the bed to the mat every morning. I think he knew that it meant that I would be leaving soon. Since I’ve retired, he doesn’t do that very often and I’m wondering if it’s because my schedule is so unpredictable now? He usually just stays on the bed licking his paws (or some other unmentionable body part) waiting for me to head down the hallway. Then I do whatever I’m gonna do in the kitchen/family room and he plops himself somewhere where he can see me. If he thinks I’m heading out and he doesn’t think I’m going to get his leash, he goes and stands by the cookie jar. He knows that I won’t leave him without giving him a cookie. Small solace for being left at home. Wow. I am so grateful for retirement and not having that early morning alarm go off five days a week. What a lovely change!

The other memory that came to me today* requires a bit more reflection. In 2017, Glen, the “kids” and I went to Munich for two weeks and then Glen and I continued on to Slovenia. (If you haven’t been…I HIGHLY recommend it!) We have some good stories from our time there. The first one was when we were on the train heading to Ljubljana when it made an unscheduled stop in some small town and everyone started getting off. It wasn’t our stop so we waited to see what was going on. People were talking in a language we didn’t understand – duh we were the foreigners. Since the train completely emptied out, we decided to grab our bags and get off, too. We saw people lining up to get on a bus. There were WAY more people than seats, but we managed to get on with hopes that the bus was going our direction! Lo and behold (a favorite phrase that I learned from my Auntie Barbie in 1968)! It was our lucky day! We arrived safely at our destination. We never did find out why the train stopped and why we had to transfer to a bus. Or what happened to all the people who did not get on the bus.

Anyway, I digress…I’ve been thinking about independence. I think I’ve been a fairly independent person for most of my life and yet, like all of us…there are definitely areas of my life where I’m more dependent.

As a college student and young adult, I lived alone and I remember loving it…mostly. I moved to Chico in 1980 not knowing a single person and I had no one to rely on for support. (Remember the landline and long distance calls to parents? 10 cents a minute was too rich for my blood!) Today, I like my house to be empty of people from time to time so that I can diddle around alone (with Dug). I’m happy to take a hike alone. I go to LA alone all the time. I cook alone. (I think I prefer to be in the kitchen alone.)

However, travel is an area that I have never contemplated as a “solo” activity. Other than traveling to visit family, I’ve never headed out on my own for a vacation or adventure. Last summer in Europe, it became abundantly clear that I needed to consider and broaden my definition of traveling independently. As Glen’s health condition has changed, there are likely some trips that I’d like to take that just aren’t going to be realistic for Glen. And he enthusiastically encourages me to make those happen.

But linking back to Slovenia – As I was brushing my teeth with Dug at my feet today, it struck me that this “independent traveler” change has actually been happening for awhile. We were in Slovenia for two weeks in 2017. For the first week, Glen wasn’t feeling great so I was more or less on my own to explore the city. I remember feeling Annoyed? Resentful? Overwhelmed? The prospect of figuring out the city on my own had not been on my agenda. I had not done anything like that since I traveled in the UK for three weeks alone in 1978. In 2017, I was not mentally prepared to be independent. I remember feeling that I had been thrown into the river without paddles. (BTW – Ljubljana has a beautiful meandering river that runs right through the center of the car-free old town.) At the time, it didn’t occur to me that independent traveling might be in my future. I thought that this was just a fluke; a one-off, not a trend.

Below are some photos to give you a taste of Slovenia. Enjoy.

And now, I’m thinking back to Brooklyn in 2021. While Glen got out and about with me some, I definitely went out on my own. A lot. Independent day travel was becoming a bit normalized.

Here are a few memories…

On to New Orleans April and May 2022…where I spent many of my days exploring the neighborhoods of NOLA on my own. Well…with Dug.

And then…if you’ve been reading our blog, you know what happened in Europe last summer.

I meandered around Brodick, Isle of Arran, Scotland.

I became very familiar with Canterbury on my own…

Blair and I explored Paris together…

and during our last 10 days of the trip in Nice – (we were actually scheduled to be gone 2 more months), Glen literally never left the apartment. I was out and about every day…on my own…

I feel like this change in our way of traveling just snuck up on me. I definitely was not paying attention to how independent I’d become. And like most things, it’s a good thing and a bad thing. I mean, learning to be independent and having the skills to explore on my own – good. But – not having a partner to explore with and share the memories with…kinda bad. But it’s all a mindset, yes?

So how am I normalizing this concept of “independent” travel? Now what? For many years, I’ve enjoyed learning about my friend, Bennetta’s worldwide independent travel experiences. I’ve always called her my role model (for so many things) and it seems like now, I really might need to lean on her and other friends who explore the world on their own. And Glen is encouraging, maybe even pushing me to do so.

Also, I follow two groups on FB that are often interesting. They were recommended to me by my friend, Jill. The page names are something like Women Traveling Solo Over 50 and Women Traveling Solo Over 60. (The latter is the better match, but hey…it’s anonymous!) The pages are full of stories of hundreds of thousands of women (not kidding) from around the world who travel the world…alone. Or maybe with a tour. They tell their stories of success, they ask for advice about luggage or transportation or…, they share tricks and recommendations, they talk about their fears and their joys. They are very inspirational pages to poke around.

And Glen and I are also talking about ways that we can successfully travel together. We recently made a quick trip driving to LA to visit my mom. We also had a sort of ? successful trip to Alabama a couple weeks ago. I say “sort of” because we were testing Glen’s ability to “eat” on planes, in airports, etc. and that all went well. What wasn’t so great was that we both came home with COVID! Yuck. All better now. Thanks to the Fauci Ouchies, we had very mild/non-existent symptoms. Our thanks to Mary and David for ALWAYS making us feel like a king and queen when we visit them. AND every trip has some extra memorable moments! Gotta love having stories to tell…looking forward to the next one!

So…what’s this post about? It’s about change. The sneaky kind. And it’s also about taking the time to reflect on the little changes, the big changes and everything in between.