Saying Good-Bye

Two week ago I went to a funeral for Arthur Burton. Unfortunately, I know very little about him. Until I went to the funeral, on April 29th, I had no idea that he had been in the Marines or held a government job. So why did I go to say good-bye to him on a rainy Wednesday? Because he touched my life. I was particularly struck by how a person (like Arthur) that I hardly knew could affect me so deeply. What I did know was that Arthur was a great man and that he had tremendous presence of spirit. He worked at Sports Fit, a local gym that I attend in the Bowie Area. In this setting he acted as an unofficial ambassador of goodwill. Seeing Arthur in the morning was like seeing the morning sun. He was always smiling and greeting people. He had a knack of looking into someone’s eyes and making them feel special. Just his smile would light up the hallway. Although Arthur was most known for shaking hands with his tennis racket at Sports Fit, I knew him for shaking hands with people. I met Arthur when I was pregnant with my 3rd child. He used to call me Mamma. I ran on the treadmill until my 9th month and even played tennis. This amused Arthur. He was always around to give me a high five, a thumbs-up or a kind word of encouragement. These little tokens of common decency meant the world to me. You never think that simply saying hello and being genuinely happy to see people can be so powerful in someone’s life, but it was for me. Arthur’s kind words kept me going. It was like getting a dose of adrenalin everyday. Sometimes, his thumbs-up gave me the strength to run an extra mile. Even though I only conversed with Arthur for about 60 seconds a day, I learned so much from him and the way that he lived his life. Arthur taught me that simple kindness and a radiating energy can change the world. If we could all emulate Arthurs approach to life there truly would be world peace. May we all touch each others lives in the way that Arthur touched mine.

Easter Tidings

What does Easter mean for you? When I was a little girl it meant going to my Great Aunt Angela's house, spending time with my cousins, finding Easter eggs and eating lamb. Holidays are all about tradition and routine. There is something reassuring in routine and that’s why it is imperative to pass these traditions on to our little ones. Like reading a book or brushing our teeth before bedtime, traditions help weather the storms of financial and social unrest and all the other disasters in our lives. No matter what happens we can always count on Peeps and Chocolate Bunnies. This year the Cochrane Family is going to New Jersey to see my Great Aunt who is now in her late 80’s. Over the years she has been a stoic pillar of the family. Aunt Angela has spearheaded family togetherness and brought everyone around the preverbal dinner table for years. She is the reason that my cousins and I are still close. Speaking of which, all of my cousins will be going home to the roost as well this year. We all feel the call to go home and experience some type of normalcy in our lives. The big change is that we are now the adults that will be hiding the eggs for our excited progeny. This Easter, I am reminded that life is about family and the warmth of a simple hug. Easter brings up so many feelings that I want to share with my 3 children. It is such a rich time of year to connect with them. I try to read them the Passion Story so that they can understand the depths of despair found in the human condition and the joy & hope of rebirth that comes on Easter morning. This week our children Alex, Zefram, and Athena chose Easter as the Theme of the Week. That means that we will talk about Easter at the dinner table every night. There will be Easter stories and my older son is already getting a head start by sketching down what Easter means to him (I believe he has a lot of references to candy). Nevertheless the lines of communication are open to what this ethereal time of year is all about. As the matriarch of our young nuclear family I am learning to build traditions like my Great Aunt Angela. I want our children to understand why the church is decorated the way that it is before they ever step foot into it; why we sing Hallelujah from Handles Messiah. But the lessons of Easter will not stop there. It will follow to the dinner table as we explain to our children why we eat the things we do. I will tell them that we eat lamb to represent the Lamb of God. Then I will follow with a story about my Uncle Lou and how he used to make sure that there was always enough lamb for everyone to eat on Easter. Aunt Angela will further enlighten their education through wheat pie, Strugala, and homemade bread with colored eggs. These are dishes that people have been making in our family for hundreds of years. Like those that celebrate Passover, there is something consoling in eating foods that tie us to the past. It restores hope in our lives. Easter is such an abundantly ritualistic holiday. There is so much to teach my children about it and with luck, they will get to spend a lifetime learning it and living the traditions we hand down to them.

Empty Bed

I got out of bed and felt an overwhelming amount of sadness. The bed was empty. Scott was in England. The fact that he was gone was not a shock. We often take trips without each other, but it struck me of how much we talk to each other. When Scott goes to Virgina or Florida he is only a text message or an email away. This is not the case from London. It's radio silence, and the silence is deafening. It was as if he was here and then snatched away. On a small scale, this is what it must feel like when someone dies. One moment they are there and the next you are reaching for the phone and realize that you can’t talk to them. The feelings of sadness touched me deeply and reminded me of how much I love Scott. He means so much to me. It makes me appreciate him so much more to realize that he will not be in my life forever. It also makes me aware of my attachment to him. In Buddhism they say that all pain and suffering comes from your attachment to things. Our biggest attachments in life (without a doubt) are our loved ones. A small controlled simulation like this makes me contemplate how I would handle a situation if the worst would ever happen. Maybe one of the things that make death so hard is that we never talk about it so we are unprepared for all the emotions that go along with it like waking up in an empty bed. For now, I am very happy that Scott is coming back in a week, and buying a GSM phone while there to end the radio silence.

The Airport

When I was a little girl, my grandmother took me to the airport all the time to watch the planes take off. It was cheap fun. In those days, you could walk right up to the terminal and see the runway. I remember squealing with delight as I saw the impossibly huge metal birds lift into the air. The airport was a magical. As I grew older I was intrigued by all the places you could go and everyone’s story that walked through the halls. To me, the airport was the gateway to many worlds. Walk through one door and you could be at the pyramids in Egypt, walk through another and you could end up at the Grand Canyon or Grandma’s house. Your options were limitless at the airport. However what I found most fascinating at the airport were the people. I loved to watch the people almost as much as I liked watching the planes take off. They were intriguing and being at the airport provided a brief snapshot into their lives. Everyone at the airport has a story. The Airport is actually the petri dish of all the great emotions in life. There are people arriving to celebrate the birth of a baby, weddings, and new jobs. There are also plenty of lovers full of amore, and children lost in fun or screaming in protest, and still others are saying good-bye. All of life’s soap operas are played out at the airport. This is what I was thinking about as I dropped my husband Scott off at Dulles International Airport for his vacation to London. Scott kissed me and the kids’ goodbye and suddenly it occurred to me that we were becoming part of the many stories that take place at the Airport. Maybe some voyeur was taking us in the same way that we had watched them in the past. Sometimes you are the ones watching the action and sometimes you are the action. That is what makes life so interesting. At this moment I was filled by the aching in my heart. I was filled with amore. Our story is one of love. He is my Romeo. For us, the airport is a reminder that we all have the “...potential to live any life we want."

A New Kind of Mom

For those that ever thought that being a mom was trivial and indistinct, they have never met Kris O'Krepky. She is a new prototype in “Momming.” Kris is one of the most loyal mothers I know. She dotes on her two sons Will and Finn. They were, they are, and forever will be the center of her universe. She drives her kids 20 miles each way before and after school to give them a great private school education. In addition, Kris is fiercely devoted to her husband whom she has been married to for 20 years (something rarely seen in today’s society). To see Kris is to experience a seemingly inexhaustible power house. Kris is the happiest when she is constantly in motion. She always has a project going whether it is re-arranging her furniture at home or re-arranging her life. When she is not running around doing a million things, she can be found curled up with a stack of books which she goes through like most people eat jelly beans. With this much energy it is no surprise that two days ago Kris did something life changing for her and her family. She passed her exam and was appointed to the Foreign Service Department. It will only be a matter of time before Kris leaves town to start her new life abroad; This is a job that she is well suited for and will be a great use of her skills. Indeed the United States will benefit by having Kris as an ambassador on foreign soil. As they say in the Walt Disney Children’s Movie, Mulan—she will bring Honor to us all.

The Controversy of the Dinner Time Prayer

Each night at dinner our Middle Son Zefram does the evening prayer before we eat. It is a great tradition and makes Zefram feel very important to do something as special as calling our family to order in this ceremonious way. The prayer is a cute sing song rhythm that goes—“God, Thank you for the sun, the trees, the mountains and me. Amen.” In addition the prayer has little hand movements that go along with the words that our children love to do. Even my youngest child Athena likes to get into the action with pointing to herself and saying “and me” at the top of her lungs. The institution of the dinner prayer has been a blessing in so many ways to our family and the kids get a great deal out of it. To the outside world the prayer seems innocuous enough but my husband Scott is an Atheist. To him, giving thanks and evoking a higher power at dinnertime is as foreign as living on the moon would have been for our grandparents. Recently, Scott initiated a deep conversation about the family dinnertime prayer. Since I am devoutly spiritual and my husband is devoutly Atheist it did not come as a shock when he said that he would prefer to remain quiet through the prayer but it was Ok if me and the kids continued to say it. Our differences in beliefs have led to a great many conversations over child rearing, respect and belief over the last 9 years. Nevertheless, our strong beliefs have never led to shouting matches, but have been more akin to deep philosophical debates. It reminds me of what dinner must be like for Mary Matalin and James Carville in the political realm. Despite their huge differences they are able to make their marriage work and so are we. What makes my husband Scott and my relationship so strong in the face of polarizing viewpoints is our deep LOVE for one another. I respect Scott and love him to the core of my being. I try very hard not to change him despite my ego tendencies. He in turn loves me so much that he is willing to allow me to raise the children with spirituality despite his deep inner convictions. His compromise means so much to me and is one of the reasons that I continue to love him and cherish him to this day.

Spring Is Here

On the way back from my run, I saw a flock of Robins. I was running up an incline and breathing rather hard, but as soon as I saw the birds my spirits burst with merriment. Robins are the first bird of spring in the Northeast and this was the first sighting. I couldn’t wait to get home and tell my family what I had seen. The Robin is such a special bird. The migration of the Robin is a clear symbol that winter is drawing to a close. Like the crocuses and the daffodils they are a living testament that rebirth is in the air and spring fireworks are right around the corner. In an era where we try to predict the weather, the Robins seem to have the inside track. Seeing the Robin as a symbol for spring made me consider the true symbols for unity that brings all of humanity together. Most of them are found in nature, like the Robin. The more enduring promises of hope and unity for the world can be seen in the simple things; the warmth of the sun, the water, the moon and the stars. Maybe this is why China chose to bring the world together at the Beijing Olympics in a metaphorical birds nest. Having a civilization that has been around for over 4,000 years they have come to honor nature in their everyday lives. Zen, Taoism, and Confucianism all honor and revere nature. Our family is making a concerted effort to enjoy the subtle things in life that can only be found in nature. Right now, my husband has started his seedlings in the basement. Each day it is marvelous to wake-up and walk down stairs to inventory the astronomical advancements that these seeds in the dirt have made overnight. Nature teaches us so much about calmness, and mysticism, and beauty. It even gives us greater insight into our own soul. One may argue that it is the true kiss of the Devine. When we get so busy on our cell phones, our to-do list and TV it is helpful to take a deep breath, drink in the air and look at the sky for a moment in thanksgiving. So often we discount nature in our lives, but it is the living breathing source that ties us all together.