Still Standing
"There's a dead end to my left, there's a burning bush to my right"
As I get older, I find that time stops standing still. When I turned sixteen and my dad taught me how to drive, we used to ride around the high school parking lot as practice for the highway (perhaps not the best way to practice going 65 mph on the NJ Turnpike). We'd pass the tennis courts and I would think to myself how cool it would be to drive myself to and from tennis practice each day in the Fall. It seemed like it took me forever to get my license. I waited 16 years for that document!
My birthday used to be a big event, sometimes even momentous. In 1998, the Yankees' David Wells pitched a perfect game on my birthday. The memory of that game is vivid in my mind as time seemed to stand still for nine innings. Years later, Wells handed me a baseball with his left hand as he exiting the Yankee bullpen. I stood motionless, speechless and stupefied in Monument Park as jealous onlookers stared at the scene. It felt like something out of a movie, only I wasn't able to watch it on screen. On my birthday in 2000, the series finale of my favorite TV show, Beverly Hills, 90210, aired. I savored every minute of the final show. I feel like I had so much time to waste back then. When would I be old enough to experience "real world" situations? (As it turns out, 90210 is nothing like the real world).
What a difference a year makes. What a difference two years makes. Two years ago on my birthday, I was meeting my mother-in-law and father-in-law for the first time. Today, I am raising their first grandbaby. Last year, I was recovering from surgery, laying in bed with a box of cookies and 90210 reruns. My husband and I were newlyweds, a family of two. I waited 30 years to meet the perfect man! Today our world not only centers around each other, but our adorable baby boy.
I spent most of my college birthdays studying and sitting for final exams. The semester would drag on for months only to end abruptly in a challenging 30 question multiple choice test.
I pass by a tennis court each day I go to work. There is never a soul around, never anyone playing on the lonely red court. It's a private neighborhood and seems like a privilege to start a match on their lone court. I wonder how many people have played there. I wonder where those people are today. Does time stand still for them? Does it stand still for anybody my age?
I can't predict what will happen this year. I can anticipate and speculate. I can pray and hope. I know my son will turn one in February and there will be a new face in the White house. I will probably make some new friends and lose touch with some of the old. And by this time next year, I will be ready to say hello to another birth year. The thing about birthdays is, it never matters where you are in life. It's one day out of the entire year to stand still.
"Was that you passing me by?"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qak_RGVERbc
Tuesday, May 17, 2016
Monday, February 29, 2016
Telling
“Some things you just
don’t question”
When I started playing
tennis, there were some things I wish somebody would have told me about the
game. Coaches told me I would need to stay in shape, eat well and practice
hard. Those were easily assumed but it helped to hear them repeated on a
regular basis. Friends told me it would be hard work and I would have to
sacrifice many other after-school activities in order to join the tennis team.
I didn’t mind missing out on social hour and knew the challenge of tennis was
what mattered most to me at the time. My parents told me they were continually
on my side of the court even though they were tennis novices themselves. They
informed me I would need to take lessons and learn from other people. I
understood the requirements needed to succeed in a game where my family could
only provide basic instruction and moral support. Tennis is a major part of my
life and always will be. Growing up with the game has fulfilled many of my
inner hopes. Matches have shaped my personality, helped build endurance and
unveiled unknown strength. But what nobody told me about tennis when I started
playing is that I would be unable to stop wanting more of it.
I recently gave birth
to our first born son. Everyone and their mother had advice for me during the
nine months I carried the baby. Despite the variety of advice and well-meaning
tips from other parents, I was assured this whole mother thing would take its
course and I would learn what worked for me. The basics of parenting are, in a
way, similar to learning a new sport. You must practice, work hard and stay in
good health. You need stamina and strength. Parenting requires patience every
day. The ball doesn’t always go over the net, and babies don’t always cooperate
as we hope. When I was pregnant, I was told I would forget the morning sickness
and the labor pains. They were right; I already do. People told me it would all
be worth it—the waiting and carrying a baby for three-fourths of the year. I
can say it was well worth the wait. Other parents told me I should expect to be
up all night and without sleep. That is very much the truth, I now know. Toward
the end of my pregnancy, friends told me I would miss being pregnant. I do miss
him rolling and kicking in my stomach. I miss the closeness I once felt to
someone I never met, but having my son in my arms is unlike any other
experience in my life. The moment I held him for that very first time, I cried
along with him. I knew right then nothing was going to stop me from loving this
boy. Nobody told me I would be unable to stop wanting more of him—wanting to
hold him and care for him. I look at him so often he must think I’m nuts. I can
hardly believe this little precious boy is my baby. Nobody told me I would have
more stamina and adrenaline than any tennis match I’ve played. The physical act
of having a baby is grueling and demanding, but never before that had I felt the power of
what my body could endure. Not even on the tennis court has that type of
empowerment ensued for me.
There are many
comparisons between becoming a parent and the game of tennis. The most obvious
ones are the highs and lows and the back and forth exchanges. Parenting is a
match in itself, one lengthy score count that will matter substantially in the end. The most
notable comparison I’ve found between my favorite game and being a mother is
that I don’t want to leave the match. No matter how much I play tennis, I
always come back for more. This feeling is only amplified now that I have a
son---I want to be with him more and more each day. I will never have enough
love for him, and nothing can compare to that feeling.
“I think I dreamed you
into life”
Thursday, December 31, 2015
Closing the Chapter
Closing the Chapter
“Days are good, and
that’s the way it should be”
It seems like only yesterday I was getting
ready to usher in the year 2015. My soon-to-be husband and I drove out of his
apartment complex on New Years’ Eve in search of a decent restaurant. We hoped
our last meal of 2014 would be a good one. We headed to PF Changs first, but
the wait was out the door and the parking lot was full. We decided it was best
to just stumble upon somewhere to eat, hoping no one else had the same
idea. After driving around for twenty minutes in North Austin, we finally
found a restaurant with an open table and no wait at all. The Iron Cactus has
always been one of our favorite places to dine and being there seemed a fitting
end to a year in which we fell in love and got engaged. The hostess placed us
on a round booth against the wall where we could sit right next to each other.
The restaurant wasn’t filled, but there were plenty of other diners ushering in
the New Year Tex-Mex style.
Last year was our first New Years’ together. I
was bound and determined to not only stay up until the ball dropped in Time
Square (I am still living on Eastern time after all), but to get a kiss at the
stroke of midnight. Staying up did not happen, but I still got
my midnight smooch. I remember thinking how wonderful
2015 would be. It would be the year I got married. Little did I know what else
was in store.
I played plenty of tennis in 2015, but
“plenty” is definitely not enough. On the morning of March 21st, I
woke up around 5:00am after tossing and turning since 1:00am. It was the morning of my wedding and I was dedicated to my
daily gym routine. Naturally, I sauntered off to the hotel gym, praying my
fiancĂ© wouldn’t see me before the ceremony. I could hardly sit still the entire
morning, but any nerves I had prior to the day were vanished. I knew exactly
what I wanted and knew I was making the best decision of my life. March
definitely went in like a lion and out like a lamb. The end of the month
spelled the end of our honeymoon. My husband and I continued to compete against
each other on the tennis court, but soon another test happened upon us and our
lives would be changed forever.
On June 24th, I took a pregnancy
test. It turned out to be positive. The first thing I did when I found out I
was pregnant (after telling my husband), was buy the first book I saw in a
Barnes and Noble on my lunch break. Any impulsive tendencies I may have seem to pop up during
monumental moments in my life. The first time I won an away tennis match, I
wrote the score on the back of my bus pass. I treated myself to a new watch the
year Ohio State won the national title in 2003. I wanted something to remember
this moment by too, so I did some minor retail therapy. I am more enamored by
books than clothes and B&N seemed the best place to go at the time. I still haven't' finished reading the book (Donna Tartt's "The Secret History") in entirety.
I’ve spent the last six months preparing for
our first born child (thus, the lack of tennis). I haven’t been this excited to
dress someone since I received Teddy Ruxpin as a gift some 27 years ago or so
(it’s okay to compare a newborn to a storytelling talking teddy bear, right?) This
year has been more remarkable and spectacular than I ever could have imagined.
I got married, got pregnant, bought a house and became a certified HR
professional. No one warned me that life could be this great. How do you close
the chapter on the best year of your life? Well, I am ready to slow down just a
little. I have a feeling that won’t be happening in 2016. My son, the little
baby who kicks and wiggles in my stomach, will have much to say about that. The
best way to close this chapter, for me at least, is to be grateful for the
blessings, to humble myself and navigate the new year in much the same way I
left 2015: with energy, hopefulness and peace.
“I see colors in a
different way; you make what doesn’t matter fade to gray”
Thursday, November 12, 2015
The Journey
“Life’s been a journey…and
you have been my God through all of it”
It was May 2010. I had just consumed an early birthday lunch with my tennis playing friend and we headed to the local hospital to check in on our former manager. As we drove through the hospital parking lot, for some reason we were discussing babies and pregnancy. My friend, a male, commented how he was so glad he would never have to endure nine months of carrying a baby. I thought for a minute about this and replied, “I think of it as a journey”. He smiled and nodded, agreeing with my positive spin on pregnancy.
Fast forward five and a half years and here I am on this miraculous journey. I keep thinking about how many of the choices and experiences in my life have helped shape me for this journey. They’ve prepared me for what is to come. In my heart, I’ve always felt I was meant to be a mother. Specifically, I’ve always felt I was meant to raise a son. I have even had dreams about my future son and have prayed that one day I would be blessed with my own family. I grew up around little children and they were certainly fun to be around, but one particular scene stands out most in my mind. I distinctly remember registering for college and picking up my parking pass on campus in the beautiful Hudson Valley of New York. On the way to campus, I spotted a mother helping her son cross the street near the post office. The two were hand-in-hand next to a stop sign as my car came to a stall. The boy wore a bright yellow jacket and jeans. He looked my way as he crossed in front of my car and I smiled at him. There was something pivotal about that moment for me. I was too young to be thinking seriously about having children, but it spurred a desire in my heart that has not left since.
I quite often think back through the choices that got me to where I am today. My college major choice, for example, propelled me into the business world. I was fascinated by management and leadership styles, and so chose to major in business administration as an undergraduate. In my early semesters of college, I developed a very strong passion for sports management after taking a coaching class freshman year. It was this passion that prompted me to change my specialization from MIS to Sport Management later on. After graduation, my specialization quickly got me several interviews in the field of sport management. I could have never predicted this career journey I was on would lead me into the medical field. But, I strongly believe that things are meant to happen as they do. My love for tennis and sports will never go away, and back then I didn’t think my future was in healthcare. I soon discovered a new passion---more like a compassion for people. Helping patients and being around a medical office environment opened my eyes to something I was truly good at---serving people. Customer service was definitely something I was accustomed to, but this was different. I enjoyed helping the people I worked with because it reminded me a little of coaching. I loved to teach, train and share my knowledge with others. Pretty soon I was content on working in Human Resources.
My career aspirations have changed several times throughout my life, but I believe all my experiences have taught me something more valuable than work habits and ethic. I’ve learned how to manage a business and know the fundamentals of negotiating and decision-making. Just maybe these skills will be life skills for me as a new mother. Compassion is something I will need. The ability to instruct and discipline is a skill that as a manager is helpful and as a mother is a requirement. Years ago, I wasn’t prepared for any of this. Along the way, I often wondered if I "got it right", if my choices in life were somehow going to make a difference down the road. It's funny how certain moments can turn your life around.
Today, I still don’t know if my husband and I are fully prepared for everything that lies ahead. I do know this-- that my husband is the best thing that could have happened to me. Of all the circumstances in my life, falling in love with him has been the most special of all. That was a journey in itself. We can't always control our circumstances, but when they turn out for the best, we can't help but smile. This all gives me hope as new parents-to-be. God's plan for us entails raising a son together. It will be a wild journey for both of us, but one that will ultimately fulfill a desire I've carried for a long time.
Today, I still don’t know if my husband and I are fully prepared for everything that lies ahead. I do know this-- that my husband is the best thing that could have happened to me. Of all the circumstances in my life, falling in love with him has been the most special of all. That was a journey in itself. We can't always control our circumstances, but when they turn out for the best, we can't help but smile. This all gives me hope as new parents-to-be. God's plan for us entails raising a son together. It will be a wild journey for both of us, but one that will ultimately fulfill a desire I've carried for a long time.
“I got it right
sometimes but sometimes I did not”
Saturday, October 3, 2015
Good News is on the Way
There’s a memorable
line in one of my favorite workout songs, “Float On” by Modest Mouse. Isaac
Brock croons, “good news is on the way”
following his run-in with a cop car, losing his job and being pickpocketed. He sings,
“good news will work its way to all them plans”, even when the bad news lands.
I love the beat of this song because it so easily pumps me up when I’m at the
gym. I also love it because it’s a reminder of when plans go haywire or you
lose your way, there is always good news on the way. It’s like the old
sarcastic saying, “It can’t get any worse”.
I’m reminded of growing
up a Yankees fan and seeing Mariano Rivera warm-up in the bullpen. No matter
what the Yankees’ lead was during the ball game, Rivera was as close to a sure
thing as any other reliever to ever play baseball. I can almost hear the New
York announcers commentating that “good
news is on the way”. Rivera was in the bullpen and would save the game.
As a tennis player, you
sometimes lose your way on the court. Your serve slips up, you lose a couple
poorly played points or you just can’t get in the rhythm of the game. I’ve
known a few players (myself included) who got stronger as the match carried on.
I remember watching a bunch of three-set matches in high school and college and
thinking to myself, “good news is on the
way”. The best is yet to come. I knew the players I was observing were
going to find their rhythm, and once they did, the match would be theirs.
As a Human Resources
professional and former supervisor, I’ve been fortunate enough to witness the
rise of individual employees’ careers. I like to think I’m intuitive and a good
reader of people’s skills and personalities. It’s a great feeling to know that
an employee’s best is yet to come when they are promoted. You can sometimes
tell who is going to stand out from the crowd and excel in their position. When
employees who are overlooked for promotions get frustrated, I certainly want to
tell them “good news is on the way”.
Soon enough, they will be given an opportunity to advance. Sometimes you have
to go through a dry spell before your flourish.
A year ago this August,
I was having a bad day. I can’t recall the exact situation, but I know it
brought me to tears. The fact that I can’t recall the situation is proof enough
that good news comes even when the bad news lands. In retrospect, things are
never as bad as they seems, right? My boyfriend at the time, who is now my
husband, was the one to comfort me. He pointed to my left ring finger and
simply said, “think about what’s coming”. At this point in our relationship, we
both knew an engagement was in the cards. It was just a matter of getting the
perfect ring and him surprising me in the perfect way. When he reminded me that
“good news is on the way”, it
definitely helped me perk up and get past my troubles. He continues to be the more
optimistic one in our marriage during tough times.
Shifting gears
slightly, I was more than saddened to hear about another college campus
shooting this past week. Every time this happens, I fail to make sense of how
hatred can overpower someone and motivate them to act in such a horrendous way.
As a Christian, I know that “good news
is on the way”. No matter what happens in this life, Jesus IS the good
news. He will bring good news beyond what anyone can imagine.
Wherever you find
yourself in life, you can live knowing that good news will follow.
Saturday, September 5, 2015
Shorter Days
“I like my football on
a Saturday, roast beef on Sundays…”
You could feel it every
year. The first signs of Autumn arrived with a tickle of wind past your ear,
the smell of fresh apple cider or the touch of maple leaves stacking the
sidewalks. The leaves would soon be airlifted, swaying around, sometimes
hitting you in the shins as you walked.
Growing up in New York,
Autumn was the most spectacular time of year for me. Everyone went apple
picking in September and pumpkin picking in October. Most often, this time of
year also signaled post-season baseball. The early Autumn days spelled out a
new tennis season for me when I was in middle and high school. I can remember
rushing out of my ninth period class to the locker room and onto the tennis
courts every weekday. Prior to September, everyone wore shorts and tank tops to
practice. The August weeks leading up to the start of school were still the
hottest days of the year. But how quickly and quietly the seasons crawl in when
you live in New York! Players on the tennis team began bringing sweatshirts,
warmup pants and jackets to matches in September. Occasionally, there would be
a football game going on behind the courts. Cheers could be heard and you would
sometimes see the breath of the panting players in the brisk air. In October,
blankets filled the tennis bleachers and everyone who was smart packed their
hats and gloves (and an extra pair of socks). During late evening matches, the
night would begin to set in and we’d be lucky to still see the ball arriving
over the net. The days seemed to get shorter quickly in New York.
Weekends were filled
with lazy mornings. The crisper the air, the better the hot chocolate tasted.
Autumn meant pantyhose season on Sundays in church and turtlenecks throughout
the week in school. It was always a thrill to break in a new pair of jeans. Autumn
was raking leaves, coming inside before dusk and bundling up to ride a bike. If
you’ve never lived in a cold-weather state, you may not appreciate the feeling
of returning to a heated bedroom, thawing out your feet and curling into bed at
night during the late October and early November Autumn days. Bitter winters
can be a drag but the few months leading up to it are the most wonderful. I
miss the change of seasons now that I reside in Texas. I miss the falling leaves
and the pumpkins on every porch. I miss the days of hearing my dad’s car murmur
in the morning as he went to warm it up. I almost miss waiting for the first
snowfall, which usually occurred well before winter began. Autumn has a
different feel down south. Under foot, there are no acorns or crabapples. The
sky is rarely overcast and the breezes are mild compared to the whipping
northern winds I recall from my youth. There is football here, of course. But it just
isn’t the same football. I never see the players’ breath or their noses turn
pink from the cold air. The air down here never really has that Autumn feel.
“When the dawn begins
to crack…it’s all part of my Autumn almanac”
Friday, June 19, 2015
How Did You Do That?!
“Then the light begins to shine and I hear those ancient lullabies”
As a kid, I was amazed
at the things my father was able to do. He could ride a bicycle without hands,
hold his breath under water, grow beautiful vegetable gardens, blow bubbles
with chewing gum, and navigate his way through areas of New York I could only dream
about exploring. He was the most capable person I knew. My young eyes observed
him and always wondered “how” he could be proficiently skilled and confident in
his abilities. The mind of a child is continuously amazed and fascinated by the
world. That wonder is renewed every day and every time they see something new.
As we grow older, these amazing moments tend to drop off in frequency. Adults
sill get glimpses of “how did you do that?” instances, but they don’t always
hold the same impression.
This Father’s Day is an
important time to recall how the first impressions of our journey through life
are impacted most when we are children. Our fathers have an incredible amount
of influence on us at all times. We trust them to give us answers, to explain
why things are the way they are and how we can accomplish the very acts we
observe in fascination. I’ve been blessed to have my father as a positive
influence throughout my childhood and adult life. I am even more fortunate to
have an eternal father who has all the answers. Our Father in heaven is able to
do far more than any of our earthly fathers. He reaches us in unspoken ways,
much like a Dad who disciplines his child with a “look”. The child knows that
look means to behave. God gives us glimpse of amazement every day, though we
all must wait to see the complete picture. God grants us freedom on this
journey to discover His creation just as our Dads enable us to freely choose
our way. The choices we make, they pray, are ones they’ve helped equip us to
handle.
I was winning a tennis
match in tenth grade. My father was cheering from the sideline fence. On match
point, I whipped a backhand approach shot crosscourt. The winning shot was hit
so precisely that it tapped the corner between the baseline and the singles
alley. I looked back and my father shook his head and raised his eyebrows.
Later, on the ride home, he asked “how did you do that” about the final shot.
In this journey we call
life, our fathers give us the confidence we need to become better. In the end,
our amazement is their amazement too. Happy Father’s Day!
“Bit by bit I realized…I
looked into my father’s eyes”
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