Yesterday I learned that the StriVectin Power to Change grand prize winner is Treva Wynn.  Her goal is to give Guatemalan children a better life by providing them with an education and library.  Certainly an investment in children is never wrong or unwarranted!  So congratulations and good luck to Treva! 

When I discovered that I was not the “grand prize” winner, naturally I was very disappointed and, you guessed it, I cried. According to the contest rules, the grand prize winner was to be determined on or around July 26^th.  So as you can imagine, the weight of not knowing was bearing down on me quite heavily!  I wanted this so badly as a way to honor and keep Jay alive and with me.  But after hurdling the emotional aspect of the news, I realized that the truth is, he will always be alive in me.  Had we not shared our love & our lives, I would not be who I am today. We evolved into the people we were/are because of each other.  I will always carry him in my heart!   

I am filled with “gratitude” toward all of you!  Whatever your contribution to my life whether voting, emailing, calling, including me in activities, sharing stories of Jay, listening to me or crying with me, it does not go unnoticed or unappreciated!  Several months ago I came across an article from “Woman’s Day” on Finding Gratitude by Heather Lende.  She says “Gratitude is not the same as giving thanks.  It comes from a much deeper place that knows the story could have ended differently, and often does.  Gratitude is surviving the worst thing you can imagine and realizing that you are still standing.” 

Our story could have ended differently.  Jay might never have made it out of ICU, but he did.  Jay might never have been able to thank me once again for so many things or give me his blessing on future love for me, but he did. Jay might not have been able to have that much needed time with our boys as difficult as that was, but he did.  Jay might not have been able to say goodbye to so many friends and relatives, but he did. Jay might not have been able to put some financial things in order, but he did.  And most importantly, Jay might not have been able to take his final breath at home with me by his side, but he did.  I will never forget his comment to me that he didn’t know how to do this, he didn’t know how to die.  However, another truth is he knew how to live right up until the very end and dying is a part of life!  It was with such grace that he left this world!  

So I am still standing certainly because of Jay’s & my love, but also due in large part to all of you. You have helped with the ongoing process of stitching together the many fragmented pieces of my heart!  And as people enter my life and new relationships begin, I will be open to possibilities.  I feel a more urgent need to live my life out loud, to dance like no one is watching!  You just never know what the future holds.   

With my deepest gratitude & Love,       

Let me just say that everyone believes they look good driving a convertible.  Let me go one step further in saying that everyone is completely transformed as soon as they get in the driver’s seat of a convertible such is the anticipation of putting the top down, and feeling the sun on your shoulders, smelling the world around you and then…feeling the wind in your hair.

By what unfolding of the universe I wound up with this beautiful and amazing car I don’t know but suffice to say I am enjoying the hell out of it…and yeah I look damn good driving it.  Enough said.

I don’t want to own anything until I know I’ve found the place where me and things belong together. I’m not quite sure where that is just yet. But I know what it’s like…. It’s like Tiffany’s….Holly Golightly, Breakfast at Tiffany’s

I think I’ve found the place.  Me and my things do belong together because almost all of them have come from someone, or someplace or some something with a story.  Walk around my home and there is the gift of art from MJ, there is the pottery from Chatham Pottery, the photographs from several different artists, including me.  There is pre-war Noritake that I use every day from Grandmamma, there is crystal from my sister, and there are books from everyone.  There is my Grandmother’s kitchen table that serves in my office as my inspiration of all things family.

And there are the spoons.  Hundreds of them from all over the world, all over the United States and literally from almost everyone I know.  Each displayed with care in the most beautiful cabinets and lining my dining room.  My collection was started by our dear friend Jeanette over thirty years ago.  She has a cabinet all her own that contains spoons from her mother’s house in Danbury CT.  They are antiques, they are chachkias, they are very expensive and some cost a mere fifty cents at an estate sale.  Each of them has an amazing story and each of them is quite unique.

Most recent addition is from my friend Justin.  It is a wind chime made with antique spoons and forks by his father.  As I understand it his father made them for members of the family and gave them sparingly.  How wonderful that I have this precious gift.  I’m sure I couldn’t have expressed my gratitude and joy to have this addition to my collection sufficiently to Justin, I was that blown away by the thoughtfulness and perfection of it.   The thing that prompted Justin to gift this to me was the Mother’s Daughter Lunch picture taken in my dining room.  I just love that.  If I didn’t say it with enough conviction before, thank you my friend for this wonderful gift from your family.  You can’t know how happy that makes me.

Having dinner with these two is always a treat for me; they make me believe I might just have a bit of cool left in me.  We worked together several years ago and developed a mutual admiration, love, and appreciation for one another that just stuck.  I love that.

These two men are so supportive and encouraging to me, and of me, and my little project that I can’t even express how grateful I am.  And I can’t wait to hear their latest adventure and adrenaline fix.  There’s always something they are shooting, driving, riding, traveling to, coming back from or getting ready to go on.

This dinner is a farewell of sorts for Justin who is starting a new adventure, a new job, in a new state.  And I thought I knew how to do over.  Through whatever circumstances, this opportunity presented itself and he has grabbed it with both hands.  Love that too.  But…

The more we all talked the more he’s realized that this is a BIG move and with that comes what he was calling pressure, we changed that to motivation, with that comes the realization that you have only you to rely on for your happiness, your success or failure, your inspiration for all things great and small, your connections both old and new.  There would be the learning to love your own company for a pretty good amount of time until those connections get made and then reestablishing yourself as friend or acquaintance or associate or colleague. The unknown just reeks of resourcefulness and Justin is well versed in that particular area.

These two have been fast friends from the moment they met; they have traveled many miles together and will absolutely learn to move this friendship into accommodation mode until things are more established.  For now Matt is challenging his friend to think the deeper thoughts necessary for him to succeed/survive and chiding him as only a good friend/big brother can do.  They are both working on this together, though I’m not sure they realize it yet.

I know like I know this will create the growth Justin needs to move closer to the man he envisions himself to be.  I know what kind of man he is, he just has to figure it out for himself.  I’m at the ready for anything either of them need whenever they might need it, such is the love I have for these two.  I must admit I probably won’t feel the impact as much because I only get to see them a few times a year but I’m pretty sure we’ll be firing the emails back and forth with whatever advice (or teasing) might be needed.  They will remain, as they always do, on my mind, in my heart and loved. I continue to remain open to whatever life lessons they can teach me.

Sunday mornings have a lot going for them.  First our walk is so much more relaxed, it’s also longer and sprinkled with the sounds and smells that can only happen on Sunday morning when people usually have no schedule.  When it’s a bit cooler, like today, there are more windows open and we can hear what’s going on in many of the kitchens we pass.  Is there a more distinct sound than a cast iron skillet being put on the stove top?  Or the tea kettle whistling?  Dishes clattering, flatware in a bunch being placed (ok a bit more that placed) on the table?  The smell of bacon frying, toasted bread, coffee.  By the time we get home the girls and I are starving.

I relax with my own coffee and catch up on the NY Times Magazine, check Post Secret for the newest postcards, and then think about the farmer’s market.  Today I met up with Muriel and Martina and then Kathy at our favorite farmer’s market.  What a great way to spend the morning, sampling the cheeses and pizza’s and vinegars and shopping with your eyes.  What’s good today?  What do I feel like eating this week?  Where are my farmer’s market staples; the fresh mozzarella, the half loaf of sliced Italian bread, the strawberries while they are still around.  This week there were figs, one of my favorites.

Bring it all home and begin the cleaning and storing.  Cut up the plum tomatoes to roast with gorgonzola and panko bread crumbs and a drizzle of olive oil.  Put the peaches in a brown bag to ripen, wash the strawberries and blueberries and figs and try to save a few for the week.

Since the oven is already going why not make those almost ready for the heap bananas into muffins for the week?  Soon everything is put away and the house smells like the bounty of a Sunday morning. Love that.