Remembering a Mother...

It may seem an odd source of inspiration, but last Saturday we gave ourselves a movie day, mostly due to the fact that it was so scorchingly hot outside we wanted to take advantage of the air conditioning a movie theatre provides. I mean, why not?

One of the movies we saw was Amy Schumers "Trainwreck". Amy is funny and she goes to places with her comedy that can sometimes be jarring and crass but she is real. There is a moment in the movie where she is speaking at her fathers funeral. Now, this is a man that was, for some, not the best person or the best father but her character loved her father dearly. As his daughter, she delivered a eulogy that was honest and touching and again, real. She said things about him that most people would never dane to approach when honoring a dead relative. At one point she asked for those that thought her father was an "asshole" to raise their hands...most of them did. She didn't ask that to be mean, she was being honest and real. Honoring her father in as real of a manner that she could. This led me to reflect on the passing of my own parents and what I could have done differently to honor them either in an eulogy or in how their services were conducted.

Today, four years ago, my mother left this world and my world. While I knew my mother was leaving me, that didn't make the blow any easier. It was a very deep one, one I feel as deeply today. I do believe that I tried to be the best daughter I could have been, but far from perfect. What I do wish I had been better with is her funeral. Grief does many things to you, one of which is it doesn't allow you the clarity to make sound decisions. The movie scene made me think about what I SHOULD have said at my mothers funeral. Mind you, I didn't speak at all. I regret that and it made me think about things I should've said but didn't. So, to honor my mother on this the fourth anniversary of her passing, here are things I should've said to honor my mother...

First and foremost, my mother loved her Lord and her church. Her faith was as important to her as her family and she did her best to live her life as a reflection of her faith. My mother was a christian woman.

My mother had absolutely zero confidence in herself and in her abilities of which were many.
She did not like herself and as a result, lived her life through me and my brother. This drove me crazy and was probably the wedge that was a big part of our relationship.
It made me crazy that she hated herself so much and even crazier that she didn't know how talented she was.

My mother suffered a great loss. Many years later it dawned on me that she was only in her early forties when he was killed. She seemed so much older then. The loss of my only brother at the age of twenty-one changed not only my mother but her relationship with my father and with me. During the weeks she was declining, she asked me if I had had a happy childhood. All I could muster, was "yeah. It was fine Mom". This was clearly important to her that she provided me with a happy childhood. She did. They did. They did the best they could for people who lost a beloved son.

My mother was a wonderful artist. She did not do macrame however. (this is a sarcastic nod to the minister who mentioned her many talents at her funeral and said she did macrame...I wasn't pleased because SHE NEVER DID ANY FREAKIN MACRAME)

She had beautiful handwriting.

She sang tenor in the church choir and really wanted to be brave enough to be a singer. She confided that when she was younger she wanted to be a Big Band Singer.

Mom would have done anything for her grandchildren...anything (probably not murder though).

Dad apparently wanted to move to either Los Angeles or New York City to pursue a career in the new world of television. She wouldn't move because she didn't want to leave her parents. She often wondered what our lives would have been had she given Dad the okay. I can only imagine.

Mom was a beautiful woman. She just never believed it.

Mom warned me often of the dangers of drinking and smoking. She would always say, "I never understood the appeal of pulling smoke into your mouth and blowing it back out". There is a picture of her from the 40's sitting at a table in a club with her girlfriends, a glass of beer in front of her. She would always say that "that wasn't mine! It was there when we sat down!" I just smiled.

My mother was a wonderfully kind woman. She felt things deeply and got hurt easily. I know I hurt her a lot and I wish I could tell her how sorry I am. I was being selfish.

I hope my mother knows how much she was / is loved by me and our family and that we feel her presence everyday in our lives in one way or another. Her influence in our lives, our careers is prevalent in how we conduct ourselves as human beings. Being kind and encouraging is indeed important. Thank you Mom for your influence and teachings in our lives. We would not be who we are today without you. You are loved and missed.

Your loving daughter, Shelley Jean

Costa Rica revisited

     Last week, me and my friends, who are more like family, sat in a restaurant down the street from my apartment and discussed the fundraiser we are planning for one of our group who has been diagnosed with breast cancer. While the topic was solemn, we always manage to find moments to reminisce and laugh about our times together on stage.
     Two of our group were in town from Costa Rica, where they have called home for the past few years. When they moved, they purchased a vacation home to rent to people like myself and then built another rental home right next door. Back in 2008 we had the opportunity to take a vacation to Manuel Antonio, to one of their vacation homes. I can honestly say that it was one of the most astonishing vacations I have ever taken.
     While we sat at the table in the restaurant discussing Costa Rica, I couldn't help but think about our week there and all of the beauty we took in.
     At the house was a balcony where I would go each morning before most everyone else was up, and I would journal what I saw and what we were experiencing. When we got home from the restaurant I took the time to re-read some of what I wrote to recall those memories. One of the moments I journaled was about our day zip-lining, repelling and Tarzan swinging through the rainforest. Allow me to give you a little highlight of what I wrote...

     "Here we were in the rainforest having our adventure and it was raining down on us and it felt great! The young boys guiding us chatted us up along the way - asking our names and where were were from. They were really great and we felt very safe with them. We came up on one very long platform where it was up to us to break for ourselves before we hit the platform. You put your left hand on your strap and the right you put above and behind your head only with the forefinger and thumb, like an OK sign and you would squeeze down and brake when they told you to. The further behind your head you put your hand, the straighter and faster you would go. Erin went in front of me and she broke to soon before the platform and she had to pull herself the rest of the way! We laughed hard about that! I sped along and landed perfectly...I was loving this! Here we all were, having a wonderful, fear conquering adventure in the rainforest, while rain poured down on us - cleansing us of all fears and doubts. I felt so renewed". 

   Sitting on the balcony at the beautiful home of our friends, listening to the ocean and hearing the monkeys in the trees gave me the opportunity to recall this adventure and write about it as the sun came up on the horizon. I long for this kind of adventure again and this kind of beauty. Too much time in-between.
     What I am saying here is, GO THERE! If you have ever wanted to go to another country and never have had the opportunity, go there. If you are needing to take some time to relax, rekindle, meditate, whatever...GO THERE. Our friends are wonderful people who will make sure you have a wonderful time. Go to their website and check out the house they have named, Casa Mono Congo. The place where the Howler Monkeys will awaken you each morning - where little capuchin monkeys come to hang and play - the place where right up the road you can get an amazing massage - the place where down the road is a wonderful beach where lounge chairs and buckets of beer are waiting for you. Go to Casa Mongo Congo and relax. It's time. Time again for us too.

http://monocongo.com





     

Eldorado Home...

I have not taken the opportunity to write very much lately as I have been pretty busy, to say the least. That has not stopped my brain from swirling around thoughts and ideas of what I should be writing about. So many things going through my head that I must be better about taking a moment to write those down when they pop up.

Lately, thoughts of my grandparents and my childhood visits to Eldorado, IL have been coming to mind. I follow a group on Facebook that posts pictures from days gone by in Eldorado. Days I don't recall but the locations are all very familiar. I think a lot about the home my grandparents built and lived in and raised my mom and uncle in. That house is now gone. I was told that it burned down not long after I took a Mothers Day weekend in 2012 and travelled to Eldorado just so I could drive by that house and get a glimpse of it one more time. The home that had a great big walnut tree in the back yard and it would drop giant walnuts on me and my friends periodically.

The home where I spent countless hours in my pappaws work shop helping him with his projects. The home with the big back yard where I learned how to walk and then run on the stilts my papaw made for me.
The home where at night on the porch we would sit and listen to the cicadas chirp and get louder and louder sending us running into the house when they would suddenly be buzzing around us, scaring us.
The home where I would sit with my pappaw and count the cars as they drove by, keeping tick marks on a piece of cardboard with a pencil sharpened by one of the many pocket knives he possessed. The home where my nana would wake up at 6am and begin making a big breakfast of biscuits and gravy, eggs and bacon (from the butcher). No one cooked like nana. She had a wonderful little apron that she wore most of the time as she was always either cooking or cleaning or sewing.
 The home that at one time had a coal burning furnace so there was a coal room in the basement. Coal would be delivered and go down a chute outside the house into this room. Sometimes, I would find myself deciding to just go into that room and lay in there with a book. Odd, I know, but for some reason, I found this room quite comforting.
The home where I learned that my grandfather, because of his mining skills, created a basement under the house with dynamite and then had the house turned to face a different direction.

So, I don't really know why these moments and these thoughts are more prevalent these days. Perhaps it is the fall weather and the smells in the air that remind me of those times. That place and those times are some of the best parts of my life. That home, that once contained the laughter of my ancestors and my family may be no longer, but the heart of those who resided in it and loved it still remains with me forever.  I love and miss that home probably more than any other...

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.

The End of an Era

Last night a few of us gathered at Illinois Theater Center in Park Forest, IL, where many of us had spent many years performing. ITC, as it is known, was a small Equity theater in the south suburbs of Chicago. I happened upon it back in 1986 when I was doing a production of The Fantasticks and my co-star and friend Richard told me he was planning on auditioning for a production of Sweeney Todd at this theater. I asked him if I could join him for the audition and grab a ride and the rest, as they say, is history.
I was fortunate to be accepted into this loving, supportive, dysfunctional, rewarding, exhausting, challenging, funny, theater family. After spending the summer of 1986 as the Beggar Woman in Sweeney Todd, I went on to many wonderful and glamourous roles at ITC for the next 20 years. I was fortunate enough to receive my Actors Equity union card from this theater as was my daughter Erin when she and I played mother and daughter in their production of Kander & Ebb's, The Rink. What a joy that was!
Sadly, due to the death of the surviving co-founder, Etel Billig a month or so ago, her family and the theater board have made the difficult decision to close the theater. A place that has been the jumping off point for so many talented and successful performers will no longer produce.
SO, those of us who've been around for many years spent the evening - some spent the last week - cleaning up the theater and pulling out props and furniture and costumes to sell in the estate sale. The theater is in debt and they need to make some money to pay off this debt. We spent a little money too, getting things that would remind us of all those wonderful years.
I am grateful to ITC. Grateful for the opportunities they gave me, the belief they showed in me all those years ago, the guidance that afforded me, the roles they trusted me with and the family I received because of it all. We have family that we are born into - you love them because they are your family - plain and simple, but these are people who came into my life as a result of our sharing something together. We laughed and cried together, as family, we buried our mentors, we've watched our children get married, we've celebrated occasions together - we are a family. A dysfunctional, funny, opinionated and loving family. One that I cannot live without.
The theater may be closed, the curtains may be pulled and the lights are dimmed, but our little theater family will be together for as long as we can - on or off the stage.

I've lost my voice but not my dreams...

I've been super sick with whatever bronchial thing has been going around. I struggled with it about 3 weeks ago and even ended up going to the CVS Minute Clinic to get some antibiotics. I got so involved with and exhausted by the rehearsal process for Annie Jr. at O'Bannon Elementary that I think "it" saw the perfect opportunity to come back and come back it did. I've had a tough time breathing and I barely have a voice. Ugh, it has been so depressing.

I'm finished with the show and now I have more time on my hands to figure out what my next steps are. People have told me that they think it's going to happen for me when I won't be looking for it. I'm hoping they are right. I had a weird dream last night that the board at American Girl voted to bring back the theaters and many of us were hired back. It was such a real and yet terribly weird dream. I remember waking up thinking that it had actually happened. While I would LOVE for something like that to occur, it would most certainly not be the same kind of experience no matter how hard we tried. I loved my job during those years - that kind of job only comes along once in your life. It is going to be hard to find anything that measures up to that experience. But, dreams are dreams and I need to remember that I have new dreams to make.

but for now...I just want some ice cream.

Day of Reflection...

So today seemed to be a day that made us think of our parents quite a bit. We're not sure why but as we were driving along, something would spark a memory and one or both of us would suddenly find out eyes welling up with tears. We're both struggling emotionally and have been for some time. I keep wondering when we will get past this - if ever. Sally was crying because she was hell bent on getting the kitchen dishes cleaned up from the cooking extravaganza from yesterday. All the cleaning of the kitchen reminded her of her mother and the standards her mother instilled in her to get the dishes washed and the kitchen cleaned as soon as possible. It made her miss her mom. She kept thinking how happy her mom would be to know that she has friends who love her and a home she loves and family who adore and love her. It was so important to her that her mom got that. I hope, for Sally's sake that she did.
By the way - dinner was wonderful, the conversation was fun and the company was just lovely. How wonderful to have such dear friends that are willing to leave their comfort zone and come up to the city and spend an evening together. We are lucky people indeed. OH, also I made, for the first time, chocolate crepes with raspberry sauce! Here's the fun part - I put the raspberries in the blender, as directed on the recipe and proceeded to puree them. The instructions were to then pour them in the bowl that contained the corn starch and sugar and mix. As I began to pour, it dribbled off the side of the container and onto the side of the counter. Oops! So, I took it back over to the blender to see if I had loosened the bottom of the blender and that was why it was leaking. Instead what I did was to detach the bottom from the glass container and the raspberry sauce spilled all over the counter! It looked like someone had committed a murder on my kitchen counter! Good thing Susan and Sally was there to salvage what we could of the raspberry sauce - but what a mess it made! It didn't deter me from moving forward with this dessert - so onto the crepes I went, timidly, but determined! I'm so glad I did because they were delicious AND crepes were not as difficult to make as I feared.
Anyway, I digress. I couldn't help today to think about get togethers that my parents might have had with friends. I have little memory of visitors in our home - it was mostly relatives. We enjoy entertaining, I wonder if my parents did.

forever friends...

I'm cleaning the apartment today to prepare for our friends Ken and Susan Bobos coming over for dinner. I'm cooking my new speciality - the chicken and pasta with sun-dried tomatoes - brussel sprouts - mozzarella and tomato and basil on skewers - zucchini parmesan bites - and then I'm going to attempt chocolate crepes with raspberry sauce - what???? It should be a lovely evening, its been a while since they've been up here. Ken's mother passed away last week so I think he needs a diversion. I ended up not being able to go to the wake and funeral because of my sickies. I was out of commission for a while.
Preparing for their arrival is a reminder of how many years we have been friends. I've known Susan since 1981 when we were in a production of Brigadoon together at Main Square park in Highland, IN. I've known Ken since high school and I had a huge crush on him. He ended up marrying my church friend Nancy - but as fate would have it, he eventually ended up with my dear friend Susan after his divorce. She had been divorced for many years. We went through a time period of being separated for whatever reasons but that doesn't matter anymore. We are life-long friends and will always have each others back - no matter what. They are a special couple and no matter how many weeks pass that we aren't in touch, we pick up our conversations as if we just talked an hour ago. They love us and accept us and want to spend time with us. No judgement. You can't ask for better friends than that. I love them both dearly and I'm looking forward to a lively evening of laughter, discussions about people who piss us off and much, much love. Now...back to vacuuming and dusting...

The 84th Annual Oscars!

So last night was the Oscars - the night we wait for all year to see beautiful people, telling beautiful people that they are beautiful and then bestowing awards on them for acting and directing or creating films that make them all look rather ordinary. I love the Oscars. Say what you will about them but to me they are a diversion from the everyday, just like the movies and they allow us ordinary people a moment to revel in their beautiful story telling...or not so beautiful (but those aren't usually recognized)
I thought Billy Crystal was very good and they could go the way of the years of Bob Hope and Johnny Carson and just stick with him for the remainder of his life and I'd be okay with that. Unless he turns into Kirk Douglas and doesn't know when to get off the stage and they have to cut to commercial - then never mind.
I was fortunate enough to see most of the movies nominated so I had what I thought was a smart opinion of the work. Albert Nobbs was meh - The Help was good - Iron Lady was, well Meryl was magnificent - The Artist was just that, artistic and lovely - Moneyball was showing us the side of baseball we don't get to see and I love a good baseball movie. I have not seen War Horse or Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close but I will.
But here's the thing that struck me the most - the producers of the telecast were obviously going with a more classic feel to the show. Everything had a reverence to it - an homage to the golden era of Hollywood. Billy Crystal was not too much and wasn't too little. The memoriam was classy and beautiful and oh so touching. I always tear up at the memoriam. So basically, I thought it was a classy presentation - as it should be. Let's put aside our snide comments for one night and enjoy Hollywood in all it's glamour and glitz, just as God intended - at least that's what he said on Twitter.

Beginning Anew

I love writing about things that happened in my life. I've been told that I've lived a lot of different lives and that statement came to me the other day as I was driving. I don't know what, but it did. I dawned on me that there have been a lot of chapters in my life but it is that way for everyone. We all move from one story to another and then another and another...and I need to record all of mine!

Last year was a tough year as I stepped down from my theater educator / director job to take care of my mother as she entered into the last weeks of her life. I've written a lot about my mom on here. She occupied a lot of my life, my thoughts, my days. I loved her very much - although I fear that she never really knew how much I did love her. She drove me crazy and made me laugh all at the same time. Mom entered the hospital at the end of May and never came home. She entered Hospice in July and passed away on August 19th. The night before, I left the nursing home not really knowing that this was it. I remember this same thing happened with Dad. We just don't realize that they are already making their journey. I would've hugged her a little longer and tighter and told her many more times how much I loved her. If we could only know - would we take those opportunities?

This week, my high school friends and I have experienced the loss of a very colorful classmate - Steve Glover, who suffered a massive heart attack and died. We are saddened and shocked by this loss but it again reminded me that we need to make every moment count. Our loved ones are just that - our loved ones. They may not always be lovable, but no one always is, but that should never keep us from making sure that we take the time to make sure those in our lives are aware that they are important to us.

I'm trying to get a grip on my sorrow and celebrate my parents and our family instead of spending my days crying about being an orphan. I'm writing a play about a time in my life and recalling moments with my parents and my brother is both heartwarming and difficult because you can never get those times back. But that's okay - I just hope that my children have the same fond memories of their childhood and their time with me as I have with my parents.

The tale of a mother and her dentures...

I just went to help my mother at the dentist. She wants to get new dentures. There are many things a good daughter must endure in this life, and one of them is the aging parent, but did I ever think it would include this adventure in denture world? I did not. Silly me. I have been through lung cancer with my father, which at one point he had a huge sore (sorry, it's gross - I know) on his tail bone and as he sat on the toilet I had to put some numbing creme on it for him. He said that this is one of those moments he never thought he ever have to ask me to help him with - I said, "neither did I Dad, but ya gotta do what ya gotta do..."

So now we are at the dentists with Mother while he gropes inside her mouth as I stand and watch. He talks about how her gums have this strange dent in them on the lower front to which she explains that when she had her extractions, they took out some of the bone so they could make her dentures fit better. My mind wonders why they just didn't make the dentures fit to the mouth the way it was? I don't know - I'm just sayin... At any rate, he says that we can go to this other dentist (with a huge specialty title type of name of which I've never heard) and we can pay him upwards of $4 to $5,000 dollars to make it all right! Seriously dude - she's 84, almost 85! Who the hell has that kind of money for freakin dentures???

So then we determine that maybe that since the uppers don't really bother her that much that we look into just getting new lower dentures - which he announces will cost around $1,100 if we go with him. I tell him that she and I will talk about it and make a decision. As we wheel out of there shaking our heads at the cost for lower plate dentures - she says that when she got her current pair 10 YEARS AGO, they were $800 for both sets. "That was ten years ago mother, I'm sure costs have gone up since then..."

"well I can't imagine that they've gone up that much..."

"I can't imagine that they haven't mom, it's been ten years..."

"I'd really like to check back with that lab I went to in Lansing..."

"okay, why don't you call them..."

"I don't know if I have their number..."

"Look it up on line..."

"oh, you can do that...?"

silence

"I think I have an old phone book"

"okay - use that then..."

"that's a lot of money"

"yes, it is, but if it makes things better for you....just give the one in Lansing a call."

"that would be a long way for you to take me.."

"mom, its not like I never go out that way"

"well..."

"I'll talk to you later..."

I've included some lovely photos of the flowers that are in my backyard this summer. I don't spend enough time out there and I should. Especially after conversations or visits with my Mom. I need reminders of the beauty of summer and how much we take things for granted. Even mothers and their dentures....

A long time...

I haven't been on here for quite some time as I've been pretty busy in my fairly new job of six months. I am currently working for a small regional theater as their Director of Education. I just completed three weeks of Summer Kids Camp where we rehearsed and eventually performed Seussical Jr. with twenty-two amazingly talented young performers! I had an amazing team of people to make this happen and can't wait to work with them again.

So, life lately....hmmm, where do I begin. It's been a whirlwind of job, mother, children, dogs and cats and wedding. Erin is getting married next month and the festivities have already begun! We went to Brooklyn mid-July to assist Megan in throwing a fabulous shower for Erin at her apartment. It was a lovely day and she received many wonderful gifts. It was a quick trip but enjoyable. Now we are preparing for a shower here in Chicago. Another crazy, wacky weekend of family and friends. I'm a lucky woman.

Last week we had a very sad thing happen to our family. My grand-dog Hudson went to visit my Dad in heaven. It happened on the same day that my father passed away which made it even harder. Megan and Chris left the city and the state to grieve and get away from the house where Hudson ruled. I will miss our boy very much, but we all know that he'll have more fun with Snickers and Chloe and Patches and Taffy and Grandpa in heaven. Even typing this I'm having a hard time keeping it together.

Well, I best end for now - I have to attempt to draw a turtle for a meeting tomorrow!

Sweet!

Today I managed to pull myself together and brave the arctic cold to have brunch with my friends and former co-workers Kelly and Laura. We had actually planned to meet a week ago but we were in the middle of a huge snow storm on that day! SO - instead we reschedule for one of the coldest days of the century! We venture out anyway because we wanted some Anne Sathers Cinnamon Rolls dammit! 

Laura picked me up in her cute little mini-cooper, I love that car! It's is so adorable and it has the best butt warmers. Off we went down the street to look for parking. Around and around we went until we found a perfect spot right in front of Cheetah Gym. Yippee. I gotta say, one of the bright spots about these frigid days is that there seem to be plenty of parking spots around. We started walking over to the restaurant saying, "hey it's not that cold"....continue walking - three feet from the restaurant...."god, that hurts" Yeah, our faces hurt already. It was that cold. I looked on my iPhone and it said the temperature was -3 degrees. Ouch. 

We were shown our table towards the back where our hostess was busy with an elderly woman who clearly was unhappy with whatever table they showed them. I hope I never get to the point where I have to argue about everything just because I can. If I turn into an annoying old lady, my children will surely call me on it! Anyway, we watched as the famous cinnamon rolls "rolled" past us coming out of the kitchen door towards other tables. Mmmmmm. Piping hot cinnamon rolls were soon going to be ours as well! We discussed whether we wanted breakfast or not - but clearly we did because that was the only menu's placed in front of us - so breakfast it was. 

Kelly walked in and we had a lovely moment of reunion for the three of us. It was good to see my right hand people. The ones I counted on to keep everything going smoothly at the theater. It didn't seem right that we didn't work together anymore. We traded some stories of what was going on in our lives. Showed some pictures and waited....for the cinnamon rolls. I ordered the eggs, sausage patties and hash browns and the cinnamon rolls. Laura got oatmeal and a side of eggs. We decided to share my cinnamon rolls. Kelly got the breakfast burrito and cinnamon rolls. As we sipped our coffee and continued to tell our stories and show our pictures, the beautiful rolls were suddenly sitting in front of us! Wheee. Just what the Doctor ordered for our frozen toes and fingers and noses and to cheer us up from our employment woes.

Wait! Mine weren't piping hot! The frosting wasn't exactly melting off the plate! What the crap? In fact, when I put my fork in and pulled the roll away, it was kind of hard to pull away. Aren't they suppose to be so fresh that it just falls into my fork? As I put the cinnamon roll into my eager mouth, it became apparent to me that it was kinda cold! Huh. The cinnamon rolls we had talked about and dreamed about and braved the weather to have WERE COLD? How could it be? We braved forward and continued to eat our cold cinnamon rolls. We didn't speak of it, no one mentioned it. We just picked and poked at the rolls because that's why we came here. 

I'm going to Florida on Monday. Visiting the mouse and hoping to do some much needed relaxing. I'm now afraid to hope too much for this vacation because if I do I'm sure to be sorely disappointed - much like the cinnamon rolls. So instead, I will approach my time away as just another trip - no expectations - no hopes for warm weather and quiet time, because then I'll be pleasantly surprised when I do get those things - or not. I just don't want a repeat of the cinnamon roll expectation. But then again, it's Disney - and they would never DARE to disappoint...would they?

Ridiculous!

It seems as if all of the titles of my postings are negative - well being unemployed ain't no picnic my friends. But, here's the real thing here. I'm unemployed and yet there are those who are employed that aren't properly trained for their jobs. This makes my head go - Whaaaaaaaaaaat?

Let's look for example at the young boys and girls that are employed at McDonald's. 

McDonald's has a new experience (an AG term, sorry) added to their line-up of goods called McCafe. The fast food, drive-up window version of Starbucks, of which I am already having an affair with. I loves me Starbucks - whether it's a Mocha or a Soy Chai Tea Latte....mmmmm, I loves 'em.  Now, McDonald's makes it a little bit easier to obtain some yummy goodness in the form of their Mocha.

However, it is confusing to me in this day and age how the teens they train (or not train as I'm finding out) have no idea what Sweet-N-Low is. WHAT? The pink packet has been around FOREVER! I can remember it being a part of my days in the small town of Eldorado,Illinois with my Grandparents. My Pappaw would put tons of it in his ice tea every single day. So I know its been around and available for mankind at least since the 60's. Since then, there have been many other artificial sweeteners that have have been introduced to society. There's Equal, which according to my friend Miles, kills your brain cells. He said, "after you use some in your coffee, don't you feel a little bit of a headache? Those are your brain cells dying." So, I've always avoided using Equal - plus there are other things they've discovered about it that are apparently worse than your brain cells dying - which I can't remember now because of the loss of my brain cells. Then they came out with Splenda, the yellow packet. Splenda is much better for you apparently but my daughter Megan says that it gives her the poops. I'll use Splenda, but I have to be very careful where and when I use it so that I'm near a bathroom - just it case. So now we are back to Sweet-N-Low, which causes cancer in laboratory animals. I have been a long time user as my grandfather - who died of some form of cancer, but none of us remember. I hope it wasn't because he used too much Sweet-N-Low! 

Anyway - I digress. So, I pull up to McDonald's one afternoon to order me a medium Mocha and I asked the faceless girl at the intercom if she could put in a packet of Sweet-N-Low.

"I'm sorry, what?" - she responds

"Sweet-N-Low - you know the pink packet?"

I hear her struggling for words through the intercom.

"Um, we don't have anything pink."

"you know, the sweetener, in the pink packet..."

"I don't know...." (her voice trails off into the abyss of McDonald's busyness)

"NEVER MIND - I'LL TELL YOU AT THE WINDOW"

I pull up to the payment window and this young lady with overly bleached hair and what looks like pulled up corn rows looks at me as if I had asked her for a bag of cocaine with that - "we don't serve that here" kind of look.

"Sweet-N-Low" the sweetener that you add to your coffee?" 

She shrugs at me.

"I'll get it at the next window then."

OH MY LORD! Johnny sits there sniggering as I pull forward. I say sniggering because what he wasn't doing was laughing out loud or even snickering - there was a sniggering quality of which I'd never experienced before. I liked it.

"So, can I get some Sweet-N-Low and a stirrer thing?" I said as they handed me the mocha.

The person at the food retrieval window gets me "something" - right now I don't remember if it was a pink packet - a blue packet or a yellow packet...but I had to ask for the stirrer again and off the sniggering Johnny and I went - questioning kids these days and how could they not know about the "pink packet" and why aren't they being trained properly to serve customers at McCafe?

Fast forward to a month later. We are heading to Indiana again for a rehearsal for previews of the upcoming season. I mention that I'd like to stop and get a Mocha from McCafe to which my passenger says - "well this should be fun." My thought is that I won't ask the faceless girl taking my order this time because of the communication breakdown that occurred last time. I blame it on the fact that she can't see my face and therefore has no vision for my needs. I'll wait until they hand me my yummy mocha and then I'll ask. I'm a planner - you see. I plan these things out in my head prior to them happening. I also plan my route of walking when I go down the street in my head. I look ahead at the sidewalks and decide where I'm going to cross the street. Weird huh? I know.

I order my Mocha from the faceless girl, who sounds like she is a very nice young woman and pull forward to pay her. When I think back now, she gave me a look as I gave her my money that now makes me think that she recognized me from the "incident" a month earlier. She was coy and could barely speak. I'm sure she knew who I was.

I pull forward to the window and plan HOW I'm going to ask for the sweetener AND the stirrer. It will work perfectly! I'll get what I want and everyone will be so happy to have had the pleasure to have waited on me! This was going to be so satisfying (insert sigh here)

He hands me my long awaited mocha.

"thank you - can I get a Sweet-N-Low?"

"I'm sorry - what"

"A Sweet-N-Low - you know the pink packet?"

My car partner begins to snigger - see there it is again!

My voice begins to have this incredibly irritated sound to it as I blurt out...

"SWEETENER - PINK PACKET - BLUE PACKET - SWEETENER!"

The kid looks at me with the "I don't speak your language" kind of look.

"hold on..." he says.

I watch as he walks over to a fellow Luddite and talks to her with his back to me - she looks over his shoulder to me with this grin on her face like I'm the crazy McDonald's lady who is requesting something of which they know it not! I look right at her and mouth - "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"

I discover that I'm thisclose to pounding on the drive-up window but then that would be crazy of me wouldn't it? I could be taken away in handcuffs or something and the thought of my loved ones having to bail me out in what will be become known as "The Pink Packet Incident", just isn't worth it.

He walks away from the girl and goes to the "back" - probably to check the picture they have posted to see if it is really me - the one they've heard of but never have seen. He walks back up to me with yellow packets - Splenda, and says,

"are five of them enough?"

"yes, thank GOD!", I state, "thank you."

He starts to close the window because I'm sure he wanted to run as far as he could...

"hold on" I say with pointed emphasis - "can I have a stirrer to stir it with?"

He hands me the stirrer and apologies with a "sorry about that"

Yeah...right, I think in my head. The sniggering is continues as I drive away with yellow packets and stirrer and mocha in hand, wondering where the world has gone wrong and why it is so hard to get what you need when you need it. Even at McDonald's...I'm not loving it.