Uncle Donald

My Uncle Donald...

The baby brother of my father and quite possibly one of the most kind, patient, funny and lovely men I have ever had in my life.

My dear Uncle was recently diagnosed with brain cancer. He began exhibiting symptoms, true symptoms upon returning from visiting his daughter in Texas who is dying of brain cancer.

I spent the day at the hospital with my Aunt and her friends while he went through a biopsy. I've just heard today that the results of the biopsy are not good. He has been told to get his affairs in order and to travel and do the things he likes to do. They are no longer recommending any treatment, something that had been discussed prior to the biopsy.

All we can do is love him and hold him near. To think that the last ties to my father will be gone. The last connection to my childhood, the tragedies that followed my family and the man that has all the stories and the memories.

I will be there for them, as they were for me through my dad's illness and passing and through my mom's. I will help him with whatever he needs me to do for him. I will be there for my cousins in whatever way they need me to be. Family is important. No matter how big or how small.

He is a Godly man who loves his wife dearly, who has the same laugh and smile as my father and who finds humor and love in every part of his life.

Our little family. We were always smaller than most families but we had a joy and a love of laughter and love of life that is like none other.

I love you Uncle Donald. I love you a lot dear man...

Perspective

I made the decision to continue my education last fall and earn my Masters in Education with a focus on technology. At the time it seemed like a good idea but I gotta tell you, this is kickin my butt a bit! I'm in a class right now that has really challenged me and made me question why I started down this path yet again. To borrow from one of my fav shows, Modern Family, I've been taking a ride on the WAAAAMBULANCE! With everything that has been swirling around me - friends losing parents, friends who are sick or passing etc., who am I to jump on the pity party train? Seriously? It's a class Shelley - get some perspective!

This morning, in what is becoming a smaller circle of friends, we found out that we have lost yet another one of us. Our friend Milt Petritch made his transition around 1:15 AM after many years of health issues. His body could just not take one more procedure, one more failure. Milt was anything but that. He was a vibrant man who loved theater, loved making theater and loved theater people. I shared the stage with him during a production of Kiss Me Kate many years ago as he and the dear Howard Hahn "brushed up their Shakespeare." We had a glorious time that summer laughing and sighing as we waited to see if Milt and Howard would ever get the lyrics and the dance movements correct! We would wait back stage holding our breathe and low and behold THEY DID IT! FINALLY! We all laughed backstage as they both breathed a sigh of relief. What a pair!
Now, Milt and Howard have passed on - months apart. I can only imagine the celebration in heaven that is taking place as Milt makes his entrance. Etel is telling him to "MOVE ON DOWN" while Steven tells him that he could have made that entrance much better and to let him show him how it should be done! Herb is sitting with a drink, waving Milt over with some music he wants to work on later - after drinks. Before you know it, Charlie, the dog walks in saying, "pffff pffff" as Etel says, "See! He's saying FFFFood! Standing by watching, smiling and applauding are all of our parents who have left us but never left our audiences.
Milt, you are one of the many characters I've had the good fortune to have known. I'm proud to have shared the stage with you. Take your bow my friend because you've got yourself a standing ovation for  the life you've led. Rest now dear one...you're on break.

The Life of an Orphan...

Over the past few weeks I have watched as friends have said their final goodbyes to their mothers. I have watched so much love and support being given to them on their Facebook pages as they inform all of us of their loss. We watch over weeks as they make attempts to claw their way back to some sort of normalcy and at times find it difficult. It hurts my heart and soul to know exactly what they are going through.

I lost my mom back in August of 2011. I had the summer to prepare for it (if that's even possible), to prepare for joining the ranks of friends and family members who are orphans. It seems silly to call ourselves an orphan because that is typically a label used for children living in orphanages in the 1920's or 30's right? Nope, those of us who no longer have a living parent are...orphans. We no longer have a parent...orphan. No one who calls you when you are busy...no one to buy you silly presents that you don't need or want...no one to call you in the middle of the night because they need to go to the hospital...no one to have mothers or fathers day brunch with...no one to send you a "Happy Birthday Daughter" card...no one to believe in you like no one has ever believed in you...no one to make you laugh because they say the most ridiculous things...no one to hold you when you just want your mom...no one to send you bothersome forwards about how horrible Obama is and that Muslims are taking over the world...no one to talk about the Bears and complain about Cubs pitching with...no one to say to you, "I just love to hear you sing honey...". No one like...a parent.

So, why am I writing about this now? I don't know...I think in watching my friends lose their moms it has brought back the realization of how quickly it all goes by and we are all, many of us, in the same boat. We are now exactly where are parents were just a few short years ago when they lost their parents, our grandparents. I don't know if I realized just how difficult it may have been for my parents to go through that. After all, they had buried a son before they buried a parent.

After they are gone, we have the job of dealing with their things. Family treasures, photographs, their house, stuff we left at their house because we thought we would never want it only to find that we're so happy they hung onto it for us. Things we will pass down to our children and hope that it means as much to them as it does to us. I have a lot of my parents things. I wonder at times how much longer I can hold onto these things but then I realize, I must hold onto them. They are all I have left of my parents. That and memories. My children and my grandchildren need to know them better and carry on the traditions and memories that have always been a part of who we are. To deny themselves these things is denying who they came from. For me, its an even greater responsibility.


So dear friends, we are in yet another stage of our lives and we need to be there for each other in a way we may not have been before. Hold each other up, cry and laugh and know that if needed, we will be there. Just like our parents would, with patience and understanding and unconditional love. Most of all, unconditional love.

Normal everyday curiosity...

I was just given the best giggle I've had in a long time. Walking back home from a couple hours of focusing and writing at, yes...Starbucks, I found myself walking behind what appeared to be a five year old girl, her mother or nanny and a little boy around...maybe two. I could hear lots of questions being raised by the little girl and the woman answering her patiently as we all continued our jaunt. She was asking about stores, about the Swedish Museum we had just passed, about the cars and things on the sidewalk etc. I was drawn to this, mostly because I raised two little girls and a little boy who were always full of questions and observations and also because it just made me happy to see and hear such loveliness. A nice reminder of days gone by.

We had just passed a few bars with people standing outside smoking, she said nothing, just walked and then we came upon the clothing store that has the two headless male mannequins out on the sidewalk. These mannequins are clothed only in men's bikini underwear and mesh shirts so you can see that one of the mannequins is sporting washboard abs. That particular mannequin was enhanced a bit in the nether region, if you know what I mean...SO, as the mother/nanny walks a few steps ahead, I watch as the little girl pulls down the front of the well endowed mannequins underwear to check out his goods! I laughed out loud! She then proceeds to put her hand down the front of his underwear to feel his "package." She gets a good feel and then pulls the underwear back up only to give him another good squeeze on the outside of his underwear. By this time, she should have heard me cracking up! She then walks straight over to the next mannequin and as she passes him, gives his crotch a little squeeze - I guess to compare packages, and kept on walking. The mother/nanny unfortunately didn't get to see any of the groping that she had submitted to the poor mannequin, but I got to and it made me laugh and smile and remind me that curiosity is a wonderful thing. I'm not saying - everyone go out and squeeze a crotch and blame it on curiosity - what I'm asking is, when do we lose our curiosity? When do we allow ourselves to not wonder as much as we used to or just challenge ourselves to just go for it! When does that stop? I have no answer to that but she certainly, in a strange sort of manner, has encouraged me to revisit that childlike curiosity and allow myself to be in those moments more...why not? I might surprise myself and others...and not because I've grabbed their crotch. If the mannequin had a head and a face, he would probably be smiling as much as I am...but for different reasons...: )

Girl Singer...

Last night we had the pleasure of attending the final cabaret performance of the Midwest Cabaret Conference Workshop at Davenports. Our dear friend Judy was a participant in this three day cabaret intensive workshop that culminated in this final performance for the fifteen participants. It was a great opportunity for those that have the desire to develop their performance skills in a cabaret setting and to work with cabaret and Broadway professionals, receiving feedback both great and brutally honest. Judy has really found a new path for herself in this genre. She looked so comfortable in this setting and has never sounded better! I'm so proud and happy for her and I can't wait to see where this takes her.
Judy was the first to perform in what turned out to be about an hour show. Some of the song choices for some of these singers was baffling and some were spot on, but as I sat there listening to the others (which at times was difficult) I kept asking myself, why am I not singing anymore? I have many friends, Judy included, who question the fact that I have not sung in many years. What is my deal anyway? It's hard for me to explain, honestly.
The other day, I was going through a bunch of old cassette tapes that I had found,  many of them unmarked. What I found were some gems! In the bunch were tapes my mother had made of me singing at weddings, or of shows that I had been in where she sat in the audience with a tape recording in her lap. That was my mom! She was incredibly proud of everything I did and wanted to preserve my performances and my singing for her to listen to in the future, which she did. Two of the tapes were rehearsal tapes that I recorded during vocal rehearsals for Dear World and for Penny Serenade and a couple other shows. I would record my part, as many performers now do on digital recorders, so I could rehearse with them at home or in the car. As I pushed play on the boom box I was allowed to hear not only myself but to hear my two mentors, Steven Billig and Etel Billig banter back and forth and tease each other and me during rehearsal. Etel was in the office when Jon wanted to begin working on another song, so hearing Jon yell for Etel brought back so many moments that occurred during my years at the theater. I sat and listened to myself as I teased back with them, as I sang with them and as we all laughed together. It dawned on me...I was happy then. You could hear it in my voice. I was happy. Those people, that moment, those years, that time, the various shows...made me so happy. Don't get me wrong - it's not that I wasn't a happy person in general, I was...for the most part. Anyone that truly knows me, knows that my greatest and most rewarding accomplishment is and always will be my children, the ones I birthed AND the ones I raised. But hearing those tapes reminded me that I am missing a big part of who I am. I can't really say that it was this thing or that thing that caused me to "lose my voice," but it has been a choice. Hearing those tapes and watching my dear friend so happy has made me think...I need to revisit this part of my life and see where the journey takes me. Baby steps but steps do indeed need to be taken.

Ants, black sludge and the like...

The past few days have consisted of fighting the great ant infest of 2012 with gusto and boric acid and ant traps. I cannot think of a time when I have worked so hard to get rid of something and it just won't go away! Typically when I want something to go away, and really put all my energy behind it - it's gone! Not these damn ants! I swear to God that they look at those ant traps and just laugh and give me the finger. I shared that with the guy at the hardware store downstairs and he cracked up! It's sad when you stand in the kitchen with spray in hand just waiting for one of the little buggers to show themselves so you can pounce. Spray and wait and wipe with paper towel...and repeat.
Just when I thought I had hit bottom in the "how I spent my summer days" category, we woke up yesterday to a sink full of black sludge in the kitchen. "Great, just great," I say out loud to my self. I call the landlord...
Me: "Hey Janet! How are you?"
Janet: "Hi Shelley! Actually, I'm doing pretty good today!"
Me: (well I'm about to ruin your day missy) "Well, I'm sorry to say that we have a sink full of black sludge in the kitchen."
Janet: "OH! Well my goodness! Well take all the stuff out of it."
Me: "The stuff from out from under the sink?"
Janet: "no the stuff in the sink."
Me: Oh, okay - but should I go ahead and take the stuff out from under the sink?"
Janet: No, just make sure to take the stuff in the sink out."
Me: "Umm, okay...there's just a couple things in there waiting to be washed...so..."
Janet: "and don't pour any drain cleaner down there - we don't want to ruin the pipes."
Me: "Right - sure! I won't...
Janet: "I'll let Carl know (her husband) and he'll come over and check it out."
Me: "Great! Thanks Janet! See you soon then."
Janet: "yeah, okay hon!"
I walk into the kitchen and take out the empty yogurt container, the ice tea pitcher and the spoon and the bowl I had my morning yogurt in and put them in the dishwasher. Done!
Now...I wait....and wait....and wait...
The landlords came by around four o'clock in the evening and proceeded to take everything out from under the sink...???? unscrewed the elbow pipe and let the sludge (which was by now filled more than half-way in the sink) fall into the blue bucket strategically placed under the sink. All the gunk began pouring out into the bucket. It looks a lot like oil so we joked about the discovery of oil on this here land and that we'll all be rich - until the city finds out and puts an oil tax on us or something.
Anyway - Carl began using the snake thing (technical term) to rout out the pipe. This went on until about Nine in the evening....needless to say, we ordered in from T's across the street because cooking was out of the question. Promises of being back tomorrow and scratching of heads occurred as we said our goodnights.
Fast forward to this morning when I went into the kitchen first thing and there sat about a quarter of water in the sink - but this time it was brown! Which set me into a panic of...uh oh, where is this coming from now? I figured they would be calling and saying - "we're on our way!" So I waited...and waited...and waited...nothing. I walk back into the kitchen and the sink is quickly filling up to the top! I put on the trusty flip-flops and my Sam Adams ball cap and run down to the Aquarium that they own and run. I burst through the doors to see Janet with a customer and Carl in the back with another customer. The store looked great! I hadn't been in there in a while.
Me: "hey you guys - um, the sink is filling up rather quickly and it's on it's way to spilling over..."
Janet: "Oh, i guess we better check on it then..."
Me; "yeah..."
Janet: "Carl is waiting on someone right now..." (Carl walks toward the front of the store) "hey, the sinks filling up, better get up there and see whats going on."
Carl: "yeah, I had a couple of leaks I had to fix here this morning, put out some fires, you know."
Me; well, the sink is about ready to spill over...so..."
Up the stairs we go!
Another day - add the granddaughter - the son-in-law and more opinions of what is happening, coupled with time in the basement digging through all the suspected pipes and it is now eight-thirty in the evening and we hear a bang on the door between the dining room and the kitchen. We walk into the kitchen.
Janet: "I was just getting ready to call you."
Me; "you could've just opened the door"
Janet: "no, I don't open closed doors..."
Me: "....okay...?"
Janet: "well, we're gonna break down and call a plumber. He'll be here in the morning. You gonna be home?"
Me: uh, yeah, I'll be home..."
So..tomorrow I'll be waiting for the plumber to fix the sludge problem. I should ask him if he has any advice on killing ants but one thing I know I'm likely to be doing tomorrow is...waiting and waiting and waiting...sigh.

A Dad...

My Mom and Dad

Fathers Day is approaching and once again I find myself preoccupied with
thoughts of my Dad and that I'll be spending another fathers day without his laugh and his sparkling eyes making everything wrong in this world so much better.
My dad was the most charming man I had ever known. I can see why my mom fell for him. He had a laugh that could make you laugh even if you had no idea what he was laughing about.
My dad encouraged me to always go for what was next with gusto. Even if I had just been promoted or jumped a big hurdle, he would say, "okay, what's next Shell?"
My dad may not have been around much when I was growing up, but he worked hard and I never doubted his love for me.
My dad was an incredibly talented woodworker. I have many items in my home that are reflective of his handiwork. He would get lost in his workshop and we wouldn't see him for hours. He would come into the house smelling of freshly cut wood. When I smell that smell today I think of him.
My dad was a gifted gardner. His tomatoes were some of the biggest and juiciest I've ever had. He grew other vegetables and beautiful flowers in the garden in our backyard.
My dad was a wonderful grandfather to my two step-sons and to my two daughters. He welcomed the boys into his life with open arms and accepted them as his grandsons and loved them as if they were his own flesh and blood. To my girls, the sun rose and set in Grampa, he could do no wrong.
My dad was a die-hard Cubs fan. He taught me a love for baseball and football that I still have today.
My dad suffered through the loss of my older brother when my brother was twenty-one years old. As a young girl I watched my fathers hair turn white over night. Our house was never the same after Rick was killed.
My dad owned a patent for an invention he and another man created for a device in the steel mills. Growing up, I never knew this.
My dad and his brother Clarence Donald, would laugh so loudly at family holidays that we couldn't hear each other talk. I love that.
My dad worked at Marshall Fields as a newlywed while he went to television school here in the city, not far from where I live now. He quit because the stress and exhaustion were killing him and they needed more money.
My dad had aspirations to work in television as a director or producer. He wanted to move to either California or New York but my mom, apparently, didn't want to move. I often wonder what our lives would've been if he had followed his heart.
My dad was my friend and my confidant. I loved him with all his flaws. I loved his fight. I loved the saggy skin under his chin, even though he hated it. I loved him in a ball cap. I loved him in blue jeans. I loved his silly walks. I loved when he would sing and forget the lyrics.  I loved his white hair. I loved that he went to work one day and came back because he forgot his teeth.
 I love how much he loved me.
My dad passed away from lung cancer in 2005. I miss him every moment of every day.
Happy Fathers Day Dad.