Tuesday, August 22, 2017

One Year

I have a confession to make, something I’ve been keeping to myself for just over a year now since my dad has passed away. Well, maybe I’ve shared this with my therapist and a few dear friends but you get my drift. Hard to believe it’s been over 365 days already, seems like yesterday. So, cliché to say, I’m not a big fan of using them but it is true, painfully true. How could a year have gone by already?
All the details leading up to his last day on this earth are so clear and vivid in my mind, fresh as a newly painted wall or an open wound. I’ve closed my eyes so many times over the past few months especially while my kids were at camp and could have sworn that I was back at Highland Park Hospital or University of Chicago Hospital visiting with my dad, laughing, eating (of course) and just hanging out talking about life while either a Cubs game or CNN was on tv in the background.
One of the conversations we had last summer which took a few father/daughter visits and a handful of phone calls to finish had to do with his funeral. It was really a beautiful conversation, sad of course but so very special. One of the two saved messages from him on my phone which I hope never gets deleted are him telling me who he wanted as his pallbearers. As you know by now we talked about a lot and this was an important detail. As we said to each other……it’s business😊
My brothers & I decided that we would go in reverse birth order for the eulogies……Jimmy, me & then Jeffrey. I tried to convince Jeffrey that me going last would be best as I was sure to bring the crowd (and what a crowd it was) to its knees with stories only I could tell.
Jimmy’s words were filled with so much love you could feel it. I hadn’t prepared anything on paper, I started writing a little the night before but it didn’t seem real so I stopped. I was on autopilot; my mind was somewhere else and I figured I would just wing it.
It was my turn……I walked up and looked at all the people. So many people from every stage of our family’s life from even before my brothers and I were even born. It was overwhelming to see and so incredibly beautiful. I started talking but the next thing I remember is stopping to the sound of someone falling and the entire room went quiet. I froze. What was happening and why now? I need to finish.
It turned out a someone passed out during my eulogy, I ran to see who it was then ran to the “family room” to get damp towels, brought them to my dad’s nurses who happened to be sitting near the person who fell. The paramedics & fire department was called and took her to the hospital. It was a case of Vasovagal and thankfully she was ok.
I didn’t get to finish. Before I blinked Jeffrey was finished with his eulogy and we were walking out of the funeral home into the limousines and heading to the cemetery. I couldn’t catch my breath, I didn’t get to finish I kept saying to myself.
I would joke (what else was I to do?) the rest of the day into the first night of Shiva up until the last night of Shiva how I would be in therapy for 500 years because I didn’t get to finish. I would also joke that of course it had to happen to me, the middle child, the invisible one. It would never to happen to anyone else, ever.
I was having the hardest time processing not being able to finish during my dad’s funeral. I didn’t know how resolve it but knew I had to somehow do something. So, as I made my way thru my daughter’s 8th grade open house a few weeks after my dads funeral with teary filled eyes I decided I was going to start writing as soon as I got home.
I needed to get the words out and that’s how it all started putting “pen to paper” as real writers would say.
I am and will continue to be incredibly grateful, appreciative & humbled by all your kind words, hugs, smiles, tears, words of encouragement and support. I am also even more grateful to those of you who have been honest enough to tell me when I am sharing too much. All of us have our own stuff going on in our lives and sometimes too much sharing and too much detail is just too much to bare.
As always, much love and tons of hugs to all of you my friends.
xoxo,
Jennifer

Monday, July 17, 2017

Change

Change, it’s part of life especially here in Chicago.
I love the change of seasons. I especially love the warmer weather when I can throw on a dress, a pair of shoes or maybe flip flops and walk out the door. One of my favorite things to wear any day of the week. I love the summer when my kids are at camp and I have time to myself. I spend less time grocery shopping, more time relaxing and more time eating al fresco with friends!
The transition this summer from a full house to just me has been a bit different, more emotional and filled with a lot of tears.
I’ve had a lot of changes lately. A combination of changes, a mixed bag just like our weather. Between moving from a house to a townhouse, working on closing out our fiscal year at work, starting a new fiscal year, and finally my younger brother and the rest of The Hechtman Group staff moving offices from one building to another. This last change has been the heaviest.
While my brother moving offices wasn’t a “direct” change that affected me in terms of packing up my desk, it affected me on a deeper more personal level. It was the preparation of saying goodbye, an end of an era and closing the door for the final time to my dad’s office. I could no longer stop by to visit, close his door, sit in his chair and have one of our talks. I could really use one of our talks right now.
I underestimated the pain & sadness this goodbye has had on me.
I have spent most of my life going to my dad and then my dad & Jimmy’s office (1993) ever since I was a kid. I used to stop in when I was growing up in West Wilmette, my dad’s office was never more than a mile away. Whether it was across the street from Great Godfrey Daniel’s in the “Balcor” building or the office on stilts at the corner of Wilmette Avenue & Skokie Blvd (the office I worked at for over 8 ½ years) or the office on Old Orchard Road just down the street from the Cook County Courthouse. I always had a place to visit.
I learned so many things walking through those doors over the years. I learned even more when I worked for my dad and brother many years ago. I learned how important it is to say “good morning” to everyone in the office even if you first walked in late in the day. I learned that no task is ever too small or irrelevant when your last name was on the door. Whether it was shredding pounds of paper during tax season, feeding the fish or working on month end financials, everything mattered. It mattered because it helped keep the wheels of the business moving forward.
I have taken all of those lessons with me as I have moved forward in my life both professionally & personally. But one of the things I have learned the most has come from the inside and cannot be taught and my dad oozed it..... and that is pride.
My dad couldn’t have been more proud……this picture of my brothers & I had been hanging on my dad’s office wall for as long as I can remember. My dad loved his kids and was proud of each one of us.
So, a new chapter awaits without my dad just down the hall to reinforce his teachings, tell a story he’s told a million times or come up with a reason to get a medically prescribed ice cream soda from Homers. I know the next time I visit my brother the legacy that has been left by my dad will be deeply absorbed into the new space. It has to right?
Take care my friends. xoxo, Jennifer

Friday, April 28, 2017

Sharing

I know you might find this hard to believe but I used to be very private with my thoughts & feelings.
It all started when I was 13, the only person I would open up to was my therapist.  I was smart enough to know that what was said in that office stayed in that office.  I felt safe knowing my words and emotions were protected.  I continued like this for many years which helped get me through my dad’s heart attack, my parents separation, dad moving out, my Grandma Syl’s untimely passing and especially staying strong enough to graduate from college which at times seemed like mission impossible.  I would joke with my parents that the disintegration of our Normal Rockwell family picture came at the absolute worst time for me.  I was just three weeks into my freshman year at college when my dad got sick. 
The beginning of the end was just beginning and I could the feel the crack in my foundation, afraid to answer the phone for fear of more bad news.
Transferring schools after freshman year in college helped, going from knowing almost everyone in my dorm to knowing one person helped me to start fresh and share only what I wanted to share about “me”.  My weekly phone calls with my therapist helped tremendously, I certainly didn’t want to burden my family, they were going through enough and I didn’t want them to worry more than they already were about me. 
I remember my graduation, December of 1989.  I lost a semester worth of credits when transferring so kudos to me for making it happen in 1989, I did it! 
School was never my strong suit, so the fact that I graduated and then decided years later to get my masters while working full time threw everyone for a loop!  I would joke that I got in line for personality twice……. the standard response was “oh sweetie you’re not dumb”.  Oh, believe me I know that! 
Self-deprecation is something I learned very well at an early age, I would call it my bullet-proof vest.
As the years went on and my life evolved from a college student to an adult paying taxes, I found myself unable to keep certain emotions to myself.  I would let certain things slip and by the time the words were spoken it was too late.  Wow, look at that……I’m human after all and realized that opening up wasn’t so bad.   
I retreated a bit for many years when my personal life changed from a married person with two babies to a single mom with two kids under three and working full-time. I was an anomaly back in 2003.  I could feel the weight of the world on my shoulders.  It’s a miracle I haven’t started shrinking yet, still holding strong at 5’3!  I didn’t know anyone like me back then, making it through the day doing what had to be done, no complaining just doing.  I didn’t have the time nor did I feel the need to get emotional, except of course when I was alone.  That was ok, it was safe just like when I was in my therapist’s office. 
As the years went on, I could feel my brain about to burst.  I had to talk, had to let it out.  I needed to be as strong on the inside as I was on the outside.  I could feel another crack in the foundation and needed help so I found my way back to a different therapist and sat on the couch, again. 
It felt different this time.  I was older a bit wiser and surer about why I was seeking help this time around.  I became more confident through a lot of hard work on the couch about my future (working with my younger brother and dad for 8/12 years helped!) and I slowly started to believe that everything would be okay. 
 I took another hiatus from therapy for several more years and went about my business, working, raising my children and of course spending time with family and friends.  Living my life, just like you.    
It wasn’t until a few years ago that I could feel myself opening up a bit more without the help of that couch, this time I let my guard down a bit more.  I could feel things shift a little bit in my life, my dad’s declining health being that “thing”.  I could feel that “weight” again on my shoulders and I didn’t feel the need to censure myself anymore.  I really needed my safety net, my friends and anyone who would listen to be honest.
The benefit of sharing has been overwhelming, and really such a blessing to me.  I know I have shared quite a bit with all of you over the past 8 months, it’s been a life saver.  The conversations and hugs (I love hugs!) when we run into each other have made me feel so good.  Please know how much your kind words, hugs and support mean to me.
I have found great solace from being honest with my emotions since losing my dad.  It’s been one of the most painful experiences of my life.  It feels good to let it out, for me sharing my feelings has been the best therapy.  I’ve accepted the reality that I’ll have good days and bad, happy and sad, that’s just the way it is and that’s ok. 
So, the next time we run into each other whether it’s a good day or bad, let’s make sure we stop and say hello.  Staying connected with each other thru life’s ups and downs helps in more ways than you can ever imagine.

Wishing all of you a wonderful weekend, hugs and all!  xoxo

Tuesday, February 21, 2017

Feeling Strong

It's been six months since my dad passed away. Really 6 months and 4 days but who's counting......
I think about how my life would have been different had he died back in September of 1985 when he had his first heart attack at the Bears game. I think about how my life would have been different had he died during his first open heart surgery back in 1995. And finally, I think about how my life would have been different had he died when he went into cardiac arrest (by himself) in the bakery section of the grocery store in Maui almost five years ago.
He was one lucky guy. Always in the right place at the right time, always making it thru the most challenging procedures, his strength, perseverance and wicked sense of humor always shining bright every step of the way, leaving all who knew him in awe.
I've been thinking a lot about strength & being strong over the past 6 months. I've been thinking how the last 31 years of my dad's life have been the pillar of strength for me.
I've also been thinking that everything will be all right.
xoxo

Monday, January 9, 2017

Happy Birthday to Me!

I remember sitting with my dad after he passed away. My brothers and Kay left and I stayed with my him until just before the funeral home arrived. U of C was wonderful when I asked if he could be picked up in his room instead of the morgue. I didn't want him to be alone. I stayed in his room for hours talking with his nurses as they were getting him ready, reflecting on what had taken place and the beauty of it all even though it was surrounded with sadness.
I remember feeling overwhelmed at first. I remember as I was getting ready to leave and say my final goodbye feeling a sense of peace that seemed to embrace me as I walked out of the hospital and into my car. I remember wondering what kind of day the people in the cars passing me by on the highway had, as it was clear to me that life does go on.
My life has certainly gone on since my dad has passed away. I know how proud he would be as I know how worried he was for me. I know that my "glass is half full" & "attitude is everything" approach to life is the only way to be for me.
I know it's going to be ok and to take the time to celebrate me.
But most importantly, I want all of you to know just how much your birthday wishes impact me.
xoxo,
Jennifer