Happy Birthday Dad!

Today is my Dad's 90th birthday.  I miss him every day and on this day I honor him.  He passed away in January, 2002 following a stroke.

He was born in 1920, to loving parents who doted on him and treated him like a little prince. His Mother died of complications of asthma when he was six and he was left in the care of a loving aunt, who moved into their home to care for him and was about the best substitute for a real mother that a young man could have. It was from her that he learned to be a perfect gentleman, generous in every way.

Dad was a public servant, a county hospital administrator in the sleepy Florida town where I grew up with my siblings and our Mother.   Dad wasn't an athlete and had no interest in sports; I grew up in a house where we watched news and police action shows if we were allowed to watch tv; we watched the Rose Bowl Parade, not the game.

One of the values instilled by Dad was his love of living things.  He was an impatient gardner who loved flowers and landscapes and a beautiful garden setting, but he liked things just so - plants needed to bloom or they were replaced and he had a tendency to over-water and over-feed, a habit that extended to child rearing.

Dad didn't have much experience with other children.  As an only child, he spent much time with adults.  But he learned a lot of valuable lessons about the importance of communication, taking care of others and giving unto others.  He was a very generous person and taught us that it is more important to give, although he also demonstrated again and again the thrill of receiving.

Dad was a very proud grandparent and loved the boys so much.  He bought them special gifts, took them on outings and followed all of their activities with interest.  We spoke by phone often and Dad ended every call with "we love you sweetheart". How I miss that.

I will always be grateful to Dad for giving me the appreciation for written communication and encouraging me to write.  I remember the first year I got to help address the Christmas cards and the fountain pen I received to help me with the task.  It felt very important to sign the cards for the family and most of all I loved the encouragement and the time with just the two of us.  It was special and all ours.

What a gift my Dad was to so many people.  He was also an inspiration with his faith in God.  It is fitting that he's watching over us from heaven now, waiting for us to join him and smiling, knowing we will all get through our individual challenges and in the end it will only really matter that we were faithful and, as he was, loving and caring to those around us.

Happy Birthday, Dad.  I miss you every day and especially today.

Love,
Katherine

PS We still laugh about the day Dallas the dog stole your enormous brick of Stilton cheese and you ran through the house yelling "give me back my cheese."

This blog also appears on The Washington Post website

The Wish Book

I went to a ladies' party the other evening; one of those events where the real purpose is to sell something but everyone knows in advance and doesn't care because they want to get together anyway.   This one was at the home of a good friend and featured silver jewelry.  I broke two rules during the party because of something magical-sounding, the Wish Book.

There were very nice women there and I got to spend a little time networking and visited briefly. I bought a necklace to give as a gift and stuck to my budget. 

During the social time, with my glass of wine in hand and interesting women gathered around the table viewing the merchandise, I spoke out of turn while the jewelry distributor was discussing her wares.

It all started because she mentioned that she has a "Wish Book" where customers can record their wish items are and she would make sure you received what you wished for.  I felt the magic and enthusiastically interrupted her, waving my hand like an excited schoolgirl and practically shouting, "that is so cool.  You actually FIND someone to buy the things we want?"  

Of course her implication was that we all had husbands who could be contacted and talked into giving us the gift items.  Having no husband, I was using my imagination and thinking how really fun that would be to have a fairy godmother who could make wishes, albeit it for moderately priced silver jewelry, come true.  Broken rule #1 - Do not interrupt or add humor or new ideas to the discussion.

She looked at me as if I had just stood on the dining room table and disrobed.  But she was professional and politely explained that husbands and "even girlfriends" were the potential givers, not anonymous donors.  

Not one to leave loose ends, I finished my point, and with that pulled a double whammy, further elaborating on my creative ideas but saying the no-no words of all "parties" of this ilk. 

"You could make a LOT of money if you found the donors, too," I said.  "It would be sort of like matchmaking but with gifts.  Really, you should think about offering that service.  Women would sign up and might pay a lot."  I heard her sucking in air in disbelief as soon as I said, "make a lot of money".  Broken rule #2 - do not talk about the real reason you are there.

WIth that, I had done the unthinkable.  I actually acknowledged that this was about money and she was there, not for the socializing, but because she makes a profit from the sales.  We all knew that, but it is something that you keep silent about in this party business.  The rule is that you play along and come for the fun and pleasantries and networking, knowing that you are making money for someone.

It should be just fine to acknowledge the true purpose of something; until that point I hadn't really comprehended that we were masking it.   It's all about pretending - wish books without the magic of really making a wish come true, and acknowledging the true reason behind a party.  

What I thought was light and funny conversation was tantamount to attaching a cement block to myself and jumping into the river, or perhaps more realistically, opening the wish book and revealing what was really inside the covers.  

I should have been a better reader of facial expressions and guffawing noises. Not only did I not read well, but I chose to abandon all sense of decorum and press the issue, blowing it by mentioning money.   We were supposed to focus simply on the jewelry and pretend it was all for fun.  

For those few uncomfortable minutes, I was not the life of the party but the ink spot on the carpet, the elephant in pajamas, the tarnish on the silver jewelry.  Even so, I was glad I went to the "party".

Finding donors for those who are in need of wish list funding still sounds like a great business to me. My wish list is filled with things like finding a job, taking a fabulous trip, adding to my retirement fund, easing the suffering of the Haitian earthquake victims, and keeping my children safe from harm.  Imagine the party to celebrate any one of those wishes coming true!