So fourteen-years ago tonight I turned thirty.
This was the restaurant.
I have the little nosegay bouquet I got that night from the waiter in a vase on my fireplace along with other meaningful dried bouquets.
The vase they are in is one I got from my dad.
It's one of the few gifts he ever actually shopped for himself so it's meaningful.
Understanding the never-ending needs of daughters, no matter how old they get, he usually just gave me money or Ann Taylor gift certificates. I was always appreciative.
Then one day, a few years after Paris, he helped me move as a newly single girl into the first house I ever owned by myself. His job was to transport my CLOTHES from point A to point B. He had a Ford Expedition at the time that was packed with nary an inch to spare with many a garment purchased with said gift certificates and at that time he said he was NEVER giving me another one.
The vase followed soon after as a sort of house warming gift.
More years passed and at one point the vase contained my dried bouquet from my second marriage, with the Paris nosegay added.
More years passed after Paris.
In 2010, I spent my birthday in Arcadia, Florida at a hospice house.
My dad was there after a long fight with cancer.
The sweet nurses had heard me say I liked red velvet cake a few days before and one of them baked one from scratch. My dad had said he liked German Chocolate, so another nurse baked one from scratch. They brought them in with candles and sang to me. So we ate homemade cake and watched videos he'd had made of slide photographs from the 1960's and 1970's. Just he and I and some cake and videos of him as young man with the world on a string.
And then I got a flower bouquet my husband had sent.
He'd remained at home to take care of my daughter.
I left the bouquet in my dad's hospice room.
It was an amazingly hearty bouquet.
It was by his bed, still lovely, when he passed away ten days later-March 31, 2010-Good Friday.
I took a flower from it when I left the hospice house for the last time with his things.
Today, my 30th in Paris seems like a lifetime ago.
A long way from Paris, but closer to home.
Less Angst, More Exaltation,
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
The truth of my life at present is that I have a lot going on.
I am involved in several ongoing projects and so far very few are profitable.
Yet I know that I am headed in the right direction, even if I don't know what the particular direction is.
You can receive signals that you are doing things the way you are supposed to that are separate and distinct from direct receipt of money.
The drive I am experiencing is strange, because for the first time in a long while, I believe that if I work hard I can (and will) receive a financial reward, the limits of which are only governed by my imagination.
In the past, hard work at best meant some nice words, a plaque, maybe a promotion with little money attached to it and occasionally being gratified that some people received benefit from my presence and guidance.
But working in a big and temperamental machine puts limits on your advancement as an individual.
For example, the temperamental machine I worked for almost 10 years at some point decided it did not want to be governed by my particular owner's manual, and if I was going to go by my owner's manual, there was a handy exit to my left.
Also, big and temperamental machines tend to eat people alive if they speak up or lead people.
One thing I've figured out is that I am not going to spend the remainder of my working career refraining from speaking up. After being urged to apply for a particular position by a friend, I acquiesced, not really wanting the job but I wanted to try out a new cover letter. I told the hiring authority that if they wanted someone who would truly DO the job of managing their compliance matters and if the truly WANTED to foster a culture of compliance in their organization I was the person they needed to meet and ultimately hire.
I did not receive that position, nor was I interviewed.
It does not bother me because I am on the right path and that position would have taken me off my right path.
I am reading several books on personal development, management, marketing and leadership.
One book in particular seems to recommend a big huge brain dump where you take all the stuff in your head, particularly the stuff you need to do and dump it all into a manageable system. (Not a temperamental machine). So I am embarking on that endeavor and want to execute it quickly. This book also advocates a similar approach for your household possessions and that detritus.
I am pretty well convinced that this "dump" will then allow me to see exactly what needs doing, when it needs to be done and what can be ultimately discarded.
Writing this is a prelude to the brain dump.
However, I don't plan to share all the gory details about my brain dump.
That would be too much information.
Less Angst, More Exaltation!