Allies

This past Saturday, some members of my family gathered for a Kentucky Derby dinner. It was an excuse to get together, pig out on good things like smoked chicken, and bourbon-laced pie (relax, the alcohol cooks off!) talk and of course, watch the race. Due to the circumstances of my parents' divorce in my teens, most of these family members are what I like to call 'shirt tail relatives', no less beloved or kindred, they are not blood. And my stepfather's sister brought along her mother-in-law, a lady I've only met on a couple of occasions, but whom I've always liked.

She's eighty eight and I can only hope to be as sharp and in possession of my wits as she when I am in my eighties. Impeccably groomed, her silver hair set in elegant waves, she wore a pair of tan trousers with razor sharp creases, and a matching blouse with a high neckline and the jabot had in it's center a brooch, in fact in the few instances we've met, I've never seen her without a brooch. Her feet were clad in a pair of sensible white walking shoes, but I'd bet my car that given her choice and without the inconvenience of age and a delicate hip, she'd have worn a pair of heels.

During the course of conversation, the topic of cooking came up and she matter of factly stated that she wasn't much of a cook, 'I was too busy being a businesswoman' she said. I wondered about that, and after the race was run and the ladies had adjourned to the living room for chat, I drew her out and asked what she meant by being 'busy as a business woman' and this elegant petite lady told me of the businesses she'd run, a salon and as a women's clothier. It was interesting that, as so many people do, she had stayed mostly quiet during dinner, etc, but when asked about her business, all at once she became quite animated, her true passion unmasked, as if she'd just been waiting for someone to ask her about it. She told me that her first trip by herself ever was to New York as a buyer for her clothing store. I thought of this young woman traveling by herself on business in a time where it just wasn't done and the courage that must have taken. Although in truth I've never been much of a feminist, all the same I thought about the strides she taken for women, etc. I just admired her pluck.

Then all at once, the tenor of the conversation changed and she began to reminisce about her husband, an air force pilot during WWII, who flew the 'hump' (China, Burma, India) on dangerous bombing raids, an all but forgotten arena of the war now. And it was then that I realised, she wasn't really alone on those trips, making the businesses work, it wasn't about feminist independence, it was about the reality of trying to make a life for her husband to come back to. And that if he might not have been there in person, he was with her in spirit, an ally, a person to make a life with. What she did wasn't for her, it was for them.

Earlier on in the day, my mother and I looked at a photo of our extended family that I'd seen several times before. With grief now more in the rear window, we were able to look at Uncle Bob again without tears, enjoy his goofy childish grin as he sat on my Grandpa's lap. My mother related to me the fact that, although she had looked at the photo countless times before, there were things she hadn't seen before. For one, she'd never before noticed the date of the photo, but looking at the faces of her brother and cousins, she began trying to work out what it might have been. To confirm it, hoping that there might be a scrawl on the back to confirm her suspicions, she prized the photo from its frame, and there it was, 1945. She noted Christmas decorations in the photo, meagre but there. She saw as never before how thin and angular her parents faces appeared, no doubt due to the rationing, the strain of casualty lists inscribed with the names of friends and acquaintances who would never return home, the worry about being bombed, how to feed their new and growing family,  about my aunt who worked as a WAC at Walter Reed Hospital.  So on this day in 1945, we see a family re-united, together, intact, whole, celebrating not only the holiday but no doubt the end of a World War. To the left of this family tableau is my Great-Grandmother, surveying her children, her grandchildren and looking to her husband, to the right is my Great-Grandfather surveying his children, his grandchildren, looking to his wife.  Their expressions say, "We made it through, we're all still here" Husband and Wife, allies...

Throughout my long and protracted and ultimately unsucessful search for the ideal mate, I had never before considered this. The intangible benefits of being with a person who is truly united with you in something that is bigger than mere human attraction. What Match.com, E-Harmony, Zoosk, Christian Mingle, etc. never tell you is, that while you might find in someone's profile their vital statistics, their predilections for certain types of foods, bands, books and pets, that what you really need to know about that person is if they are going to be your friend, are they going to be an ally, are they going to be (in the current venacular), someone who 'has your back',  someone you can count on in the hard times, in the lean times, in short someone who'll turn their life inside out to make a life with you. Somehow, my great-grandparents knew that, and my shirt-tale relative business-lady. They figured out that while looks fade, attraction fades, that there is no substitute for substance.

A few years back, in an emotional valley, I listened to a woman on Oprah (I know, I know...don't judge me,) tell us how we didn't have the man we wanted, because we didn't know what we really wanted, what our 'mandate' was, and so on her advice, I crafted a 3-legal-size-page list of my 'must have' characteristics in a mate. She insisted that we be specific down to the hair and eye color.  Looking back at that list now, what I see is a man with the mashed up features of Richard Armitage, Toby Stephens, Hugh Grant and Colin Firth, with a dash of Johnny Lee Miller, Phil Mickleson's cute grin and somewhere in there, attributes of both Bruce Willis and Andre Agassi... So a balding handsome ginger-haired yet broodingly dark Englishman American with the sense of humor of Jerry Seinfeld, the intellect of an Oxford Don, the spirtual characteristics of Billy Graham, the altruism of Albert Schweitzer who loves the Beatles, the color blue and would never criticize me for anything!

Tonight, I unearthed that list from the recesses of my closet, I tore it up into tiny shreds and thought, maybe I'll follow the advice of the greatest generation. Maybe it just might be... that what I really need is an ally.

The Gift of the Magi Revisited



A co-worker asked me the other day, "What did you get for Christmas this year, she said, "You know, what one thing did you get that you really wanted?"

As I began to tell her, O. Henry's classic story, 'The Gift of the Magi' came immediately to my mind. A simple premise really, a husband and wife sacrifice something they particularly prize in order to buy the other the gift that they desire. The wife sells her hair to buy her beloved husband an ornate chain for a favorite watch, while he in turn sells the watch to buy tortiseshell combs for his adored wife's long beautiful hair.

While I don't count my act of seeming self-sacrifice to be anywhere near the level of those immortal lovers, it did in turn present me with both a treasured gift and a wonderful opportunity to share the story I am about to relate.

When I went back to work approximately 2 months ago, a small germ of an idea lodged itself in the back of my mind. Perhaps, I thought, 'if I were to economize on some things and put a few dollars away every paycheck, I might be able to save for a flat-screened television'. It's not that I particularly needed a TV, the 27" analog behemoth that resides on my chest of drawers is in working order and perfectly adequate. In fact many times when faced with the reality of how many people in my county of Florida are literally starving, (1 in 5 families) and are living in their vehicles, I felt ashamed at even thinking of it. But, think it, I admit, I did.

All of these fine thoughts came to a crashing halt when my cat fell ill in early November, racking up a bill that now prompts me to want many times to embroider a t-shirt for myself that states, 'My Cat and My Paycheck Go to Lake Mary Veterinary Clinic'! 

Every December, the company I have now been contracted to twice throws an elaborate Holiday (Christmas, eeesh, why can't we use that word anymore!) Dinner/Dance. At this elegant soiree, they raffle off dozens of items, Blu-Ray players, IPOD's, Walmart/Best Buy Gift Cards and....Flat Screen TV's! Of course, I thought, 'Maybe I'll win the flat screen this year!'  Then, as is its wont, life threw me another curve ball. The same Saturday that the dinner dance was being held turned out to be the same night a family dinner party was being held in honor of my niece, Penelope (names again have been changed to protect the innocent).

So there I was on the heels of a dilemma, on one hand I could go to the dance and possibly win the TV, but on the other hand I thought 'isn't family infinitely more important than a dance and a TV' Was there any other choice? I went to the family dinner. I admit it, more than once as I snapped beans, piped potatoes from a pastry bag, and generally helped get things ready for the party, I sulked inwardly and wondered if I'd have gone to the party, might I have won something, maybe even one of the TV's. As it happens, a guy in my department actually did win a flat screen at the dinner.

Fast foward a few days and it was Christmas Day. Once again I found myself snapping beans and helping to get ready for another family feast. As I watched the kids open presents, I opened one of mine which my mother announced, 'This is from your stepdad!' and I opened a bag containing an HDMI cable, which I gamely held up and tried to be grateful for, "A cable.. I said feeling puzzled,  'I don't quite understand' and my Mom said, "wait a minute" upon which time a large box was slid in front of me and a few tears of holly printed paper and there it was... the flat-screened television!! Well...anyone who reads this blog knows that I choked back a few tears and I kept saying "Oh my gosh!, Oh my gosh!", until one of my nieces actually asked me to stop which I promptly ignored with another "Oh my gosh!"

Turns out that my stepdad DID go to his holiday party and won the raffle! The big prize...the flat screen TV.
After relating this story to my co-worker, 'she said, 'You know, whenever you look at this TV, you will think of your parents'. I said, "Yeah, I will ". But actually, whenever I look at this TV, I will think of how many times we are gifted things because of self-sacrifice. Sacrificing something that you want to make someone else's dream come true. When I look at that TV, I will think of the Magi...