What I've Willed, I'll Do by Miss Virginia Paulk

Graduation Season is upon us. I know, you thought it was Spring. It is, but it's also Graduation Season a season when every celebrity, politician, and Great Thinker don a cap and gown and try to impart Life Wisdom into junior high, high school, and college graduates across the country. Sometimes the speeches are good (e.g., My Uncle Terwilliger on the art of eating popovers by Theodore Geisel (aka Dr. Seuss)).

The other day, a friend of mine posted a link to 10 Things Your Commencement Speaker Won't Tell You from the Wall Street Journal on Facebook. As I read the article, I just kept shaking my head and thinking "yep! yep! yep!" My favorite piece of advice is the first item and this sentence, in particular: "Certainly one benchmark of your post graduation success should be how many of these people are still your close friends in 10 or 20 years." As I look back on my 19 years since my graduation from Lake Forest College, I'm proud to say that my closest friends are all people I met during those four years.

My mom was one of three valedictorians at her 1966 graduation from Tarpon Springs High School. I'd always known about this, but today, I found my mom's speech, "What I've Willed, I'll Do." How do I know this is the speech she gave? Because I also found the graduation program.  In honor of Graduation Season, I thought you'd enjoy reading the Life Wisdom from a 1966 18 year old.

What I've Willed I'll Do
by Virginia Paulk
delivered at the June 10, 1966 Tarpon Springs High School Graduation Ceremony

All of us have dreamed of what we would like to do, what we would like to become, but how many of us have done anything about these dreams? Tonight 155 of us have fulfilled one of our many dreams -- to graduate from high school. In order that we were able to accomplish this feat, we had to acquire three abilities -- courage to do, conviction that what we do is right and worthwhile, and desire to surpass our past accomplishments. Else we, you and I, would not be here tonight on the brink of a great tomorrow. Now we are ready to launch out, "to get someplace in the world;" but where is it we are headed? As we wait for the time to come for us to receive our diplomas, many of us are probably thinking of the future and wondering what's ahead. I cannot prophesy what lies before us -- no one can do that -- but I do know one thing: the future will be only what we will it to be, only what we make it. 

Will our dreams remain dreams, or will they become realities? Dreams without action are but dreams. All things we are, can do, and be, but first we must begin. When we decide we are going to do something, let's go ahead, let's take that first step and the second and the one after that. Once we have set our sights, we must never stop until we reach that pot of gold.
When we dream, we dream of success not failure. We are usually eager to try a quick success formula, "Popularity in Six Easy Steps," "Success in Two Short Weeks" -- but there is no "quick" success formula. Success is not skimming on the smooth water beneath the beach; it is surfing on the big breakers -- not easy at all, dared by only a few and accomplished by even fewer.  Yet the channel to success will be smoother though if we first learn a few rules. We must command our souls to

1. Develop inner props of resolute character
2. Fearlessly take the measure of the forces that pull life down
3. Regard success with modesty
4. Appraise defeat objectively
5. Cultivate a high standard of enjoyment
6. Use grief as a thoroughfare to soul maturity, rather than as a dead-end street of misery and self-pity
7. Love
8. Share with others the fruits of our daring

We must learn to live with others and to love. Share with others what we have; share the fruits of our daring. The world needs kind, tender-hearted people; we must be kind and tender-hearted. We must learn the art of forgiving: to forgive and then forget. We need a sense of humor and the ability to see a joke if we are to get some pleasure out of life and pass it on to others. Laughter is a power that will save us not only from disaster but from ourselves. Let's laugh. Let's not be afraid to help someone else. Shoulder the burden of the weak. We, the graduates, are strong to a degree and can help shoulder others' burdens. It is our responsibility to help the weak. If we can catch a passion for helping others, a richer life will come back to us. 

Remember who we are and what we have willed. "You are the salt of the earth; you are the light of the world." When we receive our diplomas, we will hold opportunity in our hands. It is not opportunity for ourselves alone, but opportunity for others, also. We we accept our diplomas, we will be saying to the world, "I accept what I have been willing on myself for these past twelve years; I am ready to do what must be done; I am ready to be my brother's keeper." 

It is our choice; we have willed it thus; and what we will, we must do.

The House That Built My Mom

Right after Christmas, my Aunt Dixie died. She was Nana's last living sister. It wasn't entirely unexpected; she'd been doing poorly last July at Nana's funeral and pretty much went straight downhill from there.

I'll be honest, Aunt Dixie's death was bittersweet to me. On the one hand, she was the last of Nana's sisters and the last of the Greatest Generation in our family. It would not be an understatement to say she was the matriarch (or maybe more accurate to say she thought she was). Her home in Batesville, Mississippi was the gathering spot for family celebrations, tragedies, and everything in between. On the other hand, she had publicly blamed me for my parents divorce when I was 12 and I'd spent the past 25 years or so staying out of her way. As sad as her passing was, there was part of me that felt relieved and even glad.

Mom and I debated whether or not to make the 10 hour drive to Batesville, Mississippi for Aunt Dixie's funeral, but ultimately decided that we wanted to be there and as a bonus, we'd get to "celebrate" with Christmas with Nana by visiting her grave. I packed a little bite of Nana's fruitcake and one of the Christmas ornaments I'd made for my Nana-themed Christmas tree to leave at Nana's grave and off we went.

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Mom was born in Oxford, Mississippi and lived in Batesville until she was 8. Nana, of course, was born and raised in Batesville, as was my grandfather Jesse, who died 10 years before I was born. Nana's sisters Johnnie and Dixie also lived most of their lives in Batesville and their children raised their kids either in Batesville or in a neighboring town. With the exception of my mom's brother Michael and his family, Dave and I were the only ones not raised at least part-time in Batesville.

Until Nana's funeral, it had been 15 years since either Mom or I had been to Batesville and we both knew this would probably be our last trip. For me, this trip was about saying goodbye to Nana in a way I hadn't had time or the emotional ability to do in July. For mom, this trip was about to be about her ability to reconcile her childhood with her present and future.

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The day of Aunt Dixie's funeral, Mom and I were up and dressed early with about an hour and a half to spare before we were expected anywhere. Mom wanted to drive around and see some old "landmarks."

First, we drove to the house Nana was raised in. At least four generations of my family have lived in this house. From Big Mama (Nana's mom) to Nana and her sisters Johnnie, Dixie, and Mazie, to all four sisters and their families separately and together, to Johnnie's grandson Robert, many members of our family can count this house as "home" at one point or another. It was part of the family farm, which at some point after Aunt Johnnie's death was sold.

I remember sitting in Aunt Johnnie's kitchen when I was about 6 or 7 and feeling the house shake and hearing the dishes rattle. I turned to my mom and said, "they sure do have low flying airplanes around here," even though we were no where near an airport. As a kid growing up 15 minutes from O'Hare, it was simply the only thing I could imagine would make such a racket. Aunt Johnnie turned to me and in no uncertain terms informed me that it was a freight train and the railroad tracks were 100 yards outside her front door. She then asked my mom what kind of a child she was raising that didn't know the difference between an airplane and a freight train. The thing about Aunt Johnnie was that if you didn't know where you stood with her you were either deaf or you weren't listening.

The house that built Nana. They added on the bathroom located in the left of the picture behind the bush. Before that, they had an outhouse. The railroad tracks are 100 yards to the right of the house as you're looking at it.

Mom wanted me to see her elementary school, Batesville Elementary School, which had also been Nana's elementary school. It's been Batesville's elementary school since 1897 and occupies one entire city block.

Next, we drove by Aunt Dixie's house on Highway 6. It doesn't look like much from the outside, but on the inside, the rooms are elaborately decorated in the Federalist style, or as I affectionately refer to it, Early American Whorehouse. Honestly, I affectionately refer to it that way. In fact, there are some pieces of Nana's furniture that have been in Aunt Dixie's house for years that I'm hoping I can get because I love them. Aunt Dixie also has a huge basement that her late husband, Uncle Happy, built. We used to have the most fun family parties down there. In fact, it was in Aunt Dixie's basement, that Aunt Mazie flashed the entire family one Christmas. But I digress.

When Mom lived in Batesville, her house was located just left of Aunt Dixie's house. After Mom's family moved to Crystal Beach, Florida, they sold the house and it was moved to make way for a strip mall.

As I said, Mom's house was moved about a mile or so from its original location after it was sold. Over the year, Mom has mentioned many times that she has always wanted to go back into the house and see how it looks now. When they moved to Florida in 1956, it was a very sudden move and I don't even think Mom knew they were moving. I've always understood that they went for vacation to visit Mom's godmother and decided to stay. In fact, they left most of their furniture in Batesville because they believed they'd be back, but they never returned.

Because there were cars in the driveway, I pulled into the drive and told Mom to go knock on the door. I can't remember the last time I saw Mom move so fast as she did racing up to that door. A middle-aged woman answered and it only took a second for her to invite Mom inside, while I waited in the car. There was a part of me that wanted to see the house my grandfather built and see where my mom came from, but I knew this was really Mom's journey and worried a stranger wouldn't let two women she didn't know just roam around her house.

Mom returned about 20 minutes later with tales of how nice the woman was and how much of the house was still the same. The bookshelves my grandfather built in Mom's room were still there. The kitchen and the pantry were still the same. The owner, who it turned out was the daughter of the family that purchased the house from Nana and my grandfather, bragged to my mom about how well my grandfather built everything so only minimal work had had to be done over the years.

Getting back in the car, I could see a glow on Mom's face I hadn't seen for years. She was so happy to have been given this gift of visiting her childhood home and the only house she felt like they were a happy family in.


Having been at Mom's house in Batesville, I now have a better appreciation for the old 8mm family movies I found last summer and had converted into DVD. I can better picture these movies being filmed inside Mom's house in Batesville. This is the only video I have of my grandfather. (Get Little Merry Sunshine via email? Click here and go watch the video on Little Merry Sunshine.)

Jessica Gardner from Orange Guest on Vimeo.

Being back in Batesville was not easy. It was an emotional trip, but it was well worth the 20 hours we spent in the car. I don't know if we'll ever go back, so I'm a happy I gave Mom the time with her cousins and the opportunity to step back in time in her old home.

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A few months later, I first heard the Miranda Lambert song, The House That Built Me, and it brought tears to my eyes as it took me back to that day in Batesville with Mom.

Eat At Sam's Fresh Seafood

I've known Sammy and Phyllis Hart, owners of Sam's Fresh Seafood in Dunedin, Florida, for about as long as I can remember. My mom grew up with them and they all attended Tarpon Springs High School together.

Sam and Phyllis opened Sam's Fresh Seafood about 30 years ago. Sam does most of the fishing and they serve what he catches, often that day or within 24 hours. I'm honestly not sure if there's fresher seafood available anywhere. They work in the restaurant together - Sam in the kitchen and Phyllis greeting guests, checking on tables and behind the cash register.

Whenever I'm in Crystal Beach the only restaurant I want to eat at is Sam's Fresh Seafood. Nana loved going there and it just feels like home. In fact, I can't recall the last time I was in Florida that I didn't eat at Sam's. I always have scallops and like every meal, they come with two sides and hush puppies. The fried okra is my other favorite. Actually, everything on the menu is amazing. Plus, for seafood, it's pretty budget friendly.

Sammy and Phyllis are also incredibly loyal. I've yet to meet a server who's been with them less than 6 or 8 years and who doesn't speak of them like they're family. Sammy and Phyllis hire good people, treat them right and they stick around.

Since the BP oil spill almost two months ago, Sammy and Phyllis have been on my mind a lot. I've wondered how they were doing and was relieved when I ate there on Mother's Day and business seemed good. But when I spoke to Mom today, she told me Sammy was on the local news last night discussing the steep decline in business. It's not that there's anything wrong with the seafood, but people are afraid.

I found the story and video below and my eyes welled up seeing Sammy choke up. I know it must have broken his heart to cut his staff's hours. Sammy and Phyllis are holding on, but paying a steep price to do so. Because I'm in Chicago, there's not much I can do, except say that I'll be eating at Sam's Fresh Seafood on when I'm in Crystal Beach on July 18th - Nana's birthday, write about them on Little Merry Sunshine, talk about them on Facebook, and encourage all my Florida friends to support Sam and Phyllis by eating at Sam's Fresh Seafood whenever they can. If you go, tell Phyllis that Jessica Gardner, Virginia Paulk's daughter sent you.



Sam's Seafood Restaurant Owner is Bracing Himself for an Uncertain Future as Oil Keeps Gushing
Sales Drop 40% Since Spill

July 11, 2010
by Rebecca Medina, ABC Action News

DUNEDIN, Fla. - Sam and Phyllis Hart, owners of Sam's Seafood Restaurant in Dunedin, said they're scared and facing an uncertain future because the oil spill in the Gulf will likely put them out of business.

"I don't know what I'll do next, I'm 63-years-old this is all I know how to do," said Sam as he sliced and diced his catch of the day.

Sam has been shucking oysters, marinating mussels and serving fresh seafood for more than 30 years. He said he and Phyllis have survived hurricanes, a red tide, sour stone crab seasons, but never oil creeping closer to Dunedin shores.

"My wife was arguing with a customer last night who was telling us the fish are glowing and it probably has all kinds of micro-organisms in it and this oil isn't even here yet."

But it might as well be covering the beaches, according to Phyllis who said, "We've seen a 40-percent drop in business since the spill. I've had to cut back employee's hours, and I have waitresses that've been with me for eight to nine years whose tips are down 30 percent."

To make matters worse Sam is now serving seafood that's imported instead of local, which is driving up his costs and drying out his bottom line.

Sam said, "I don't know how long we'll be able to hold on." When asked just how much he loves his business Sam turned away, put his head down and whimpered. "I love it."

Mother of the Decade Announced!

Here's a hint . . . it went to my mom.

Click here to watch the video. No, I don't know why it can't be embedded, but it can't. (Mom: I know you only read LMS via email, but REALLY click the link or visit LMS to click the link and watch the video.)

Seriously, my mom more than deserved this award. Her patience and love know no bounds. She was a great role model and always gives of herself selflessly. I'm very proud to be her daughter.

Now watch the video.

My mom and me at my baptism, September 12, 1971 (her 23rd birthday).

Call Your Mother

Me, Mom, and Nana in Tarpon Springs, Florida. Circa 1975.

In case you have forgotten, Sunday is Mother's Day. In spite of what Glenn Beck says, Mother's Day is not a Hallmark Holiday. Mother's Day officially became a holiday on May 8, 1914 with the signature of President Woodrow Wilson and thanks to the hard work of many women throughout history.

Personally, I'll be chilling with my mom, which is what you should be doing too, if you can. If you can't be with your mom, you should at least call her. Why? Because she suffered through 27 hours of labor without drugs and your teenage years. That's why.

You should also reach out to anyone who was like a mom to you at any point in your life. Why? Because she cared about you. She probably loved you like her own and bandaged up your bloody knees a time or three. You ate dinner at her table more times than anyone can count and ran away to her house when life got tough at your house. That's why.

In our lives, Dave and I had our mom and Nana and Joan Green. Joan was always around after school and Dave especially hung out at the Green's house, but I always knew the door was open to me as well. The Green's were our second family. Even after we grew up and moved away, Dave sent her Mother's Day cards. When I moved back to Arlington Heights, I loved knowing Joan as an adult. She went from being that second mom to me to being my friend. Joan passed away 2 1/2 years ago and I still miss her. Just the other day, I was thinking I wanted to get her opinion about something and started to walk down the street before remembering I couldn't.

This is our first Mother's Day without Nana. Mom and I will be with her (in spirit) when we sit in her pew at church and I'll have a brand new box of Kleenex in my lap. I can't imagine being anywhere else. Trust me, she'll be with us the whole day. I can't tell you the rest of our plans because it's a surprise for Mom, but trust me, it's good.

Moms are our first heroes. They love us unconditionally and help us pick up the pieces when we fall. They cheer us on, even when we have no chance of coming in first. They teach us how to fight our own battles. They never let us give up. They give us wings even when they'd rather keep us little forever.

In honor of moms, watch this terrific video Brad Meltzer made about his mom. If you don't get misty eyed, you may have no soul. And remember, call your mom.

Happy Birthday Mom!

Happy Birthday Mom!

You are an amazing woman and have given me so much inspiration in life. Many people see problems, but you see solutions. You have always had a purpose greater than yourself, whether it's teaching kids with learning difficulties to read when no one else could or helping people with disabilities get services and make Fortune 500 Companies comply with the ADA. I'm proud to be your daughter.

In a labor of love, you took care of Nana in the final years of her life. No one could have done what you did and you gave her your best everyday. She knew you loved her and she loved you a bushel and a peck.

It brings me so much happiness that we can celebrate your birthday together at Sam's tonight.

May this new year bring you nothing but happiness and joy. It is no understatement to say that the world IS your oyster now.

I love you.

Crystal Beach Community Church & Me

On Sunday, Mom and I went to church at Crystal Beach Community Church. I don't attend church often and have many conflicts over what I believe religiously. For this reason, I haven't been a member of any church since I was in high school and had been confirmed at the First Presbyterian Church in Arlington Heights.

That said, I hate missing an opportunity to attend services at Crystal Beach Community Church. It just feels like home to me.

When I sit within its walls, I can feel the weight of the history of the church and my family.

My step-grandfather, Rev. C.W.A. Bredemeier was the founding minister and the first member.

My late Nana was the second member, taught Sunday School, and was the church secretary and treasurer. Nana also helped found the first CBCC Youth Fellowship, which met on Sunday nights for Bible Study at the church and every Saturday night down at former Seaside Hall for recreation and Christian fellowship. Obviously, Nana's Celebration of Life service was held at CBCC last month.

At Nana's Celebration of Life Service last month, a dozen people came up to me with the same story. "I'm a member of this church because of how your Nana greeted me and my husband 20 years ago when we first walked through the door. She invited us to sit with her and made us feel like we'd always been members." Wow. What a legacy. She will certainly live on for years and years. I felt her beside me on Sunday and as we sang her favorite hymn, "What A Friend We Have in Jesus," coincidentally one of the three hymns we sang.

Before he died in 1961, my grandfather, Jesse Paulk, also a member, taught Adult Sunday School, and sang in the choir. When he died in 1961, Nana brought all the money to the church that was donated to the family, saying "Jesse had been wanting us to start a Pew Fund so that we would have pews instead of the wooden folding Army chairs to sit on. Here is the money to buy the first pew." From that beginning, the church raised enough money to buy pews for the entire church and both choir lofts. Plus, there was enough money left over to have the church walls & concrete floor re-painted, as well as to build the current alter and lecterns, communion table and the tall wooden candle holders, all of which were designed by my step-grandfather and founding pastor, Rev. C.W.A. Bredemeier.

My mom sang in the choir, attended Sunday School and the Youth Fellowship Group, and was even married at CBCC to my dad in 1970 by Rev. Bredemeier.

I was baptized at CBCC by my step-grandfather Rev. Bredemeier on September 12, 1971, my mom's birthday, the anniversary of my grandfather's death, and just weeks after Rev. Bredemeier and Nana were married in the church . When I was a kid, I used to go over to the church and sit with the woman who was responsible for the chimes being played every night at 5:45 and could be heard all up and down the beach. Each night, she'd let me play the organ and let me believe that my playing was being heard throughout Crystal Beach, What I only learned last month is that the chimes had been automated since long before my days of playing them, so only the organist and I heard my "music."

No matter where I go, what I do, or even what my current internal struggle with religion, CBCC always feels like home and when I'm in Crystal Beach I have to go to church.

Just Another Day In Paradise

Are you familiar with Jimmy Buffett? Of course you are. Do you know Bertie Higgins? I highly doubt it.

Bertie Higgins is a Florida-based international recording artist famous for hits from the 80s, including "Key Largo," (and here's his performance of "Key Largo" from Solid Gold hosted by Andy Gibb and Marilyn McCoo) "Casablanca" and "Just Another Day in Paradise."do

What you definitely don't know is that Bertie Higgins grew up in Tarpon Springs, Florida with my mom and her best friend Jane. I don't know if he still lives in Tarpon Springs or not, but he did at least through the late 1980s. He also knew Nana and would go visit her at the bank. Nana just adored him.

During one visit to Crystal Beach during Spring Break 1983, we went to visit Bertie at his Tarpon Springs home. I remember meeting him and seeing his Gold Records (for you kids out there, you can learn about records here) hanging on the wall. He was wonderfully gracious and it was fun getting to meet someone famous my mom grew up with. We even took pictures with him, but I can't find them.

Whenever I visit Crystal Beach and Tarpon Springs, I'm always reminded of his song "Just Another Day in Paradise" because I think it's about this part of Florida.



Lyrics

The big cold city is such a lonely place to be
Hustle all day and dream of the islands and sea
Millions of girls but none of them seemed right for me
Til you came along, you touched me and set me free

So I slipped away last night, eased on down to the Key
Flyin' so high, we hitched a ride on a Gulf Stream breeze
Livin' on love and the fruits from tropical trees
A song in our hearts and our eyes on the West Indies

It's just another day in paradise
Love in the night, oh we do it so right
Seein' that 'I Love You' look in your eyes
Just another day in paradise

A bottle of rum, listen to the steel drum band
Laughin' in the moonlight, along the beach we ran
Splashin' naked in the sea, makin' love upon the sand
Fallin' fast asleep like children, hand in hand

It's just another day in paradise
Love in the night, oh we do it so right
Seein' that 'I Love You' look in your eyes
Just another day in paradise

I woke up this morning with the sunlight in my eyes
Guess it was only a dream, I hear the city outside
But I look at you sleepin' and honey now I realize
That anywhere with you is paradise

It's just another day in paradise
Love in the night, oh we do it so right
Seein' that 'I Love You' look in your eyes
Just another day in paradise

It's just another day in paradise
Love in the night, oh we do it so right
Seein' that 'I Love You' look in your eyes
Just another day in paradise

Tonight's Sunset from Sunset Beach

I've spent my life visiting Tarpon Springs and tonight I found a spot I'd never been before. More than that, Mom grew up here and didn't know about Sunset Beach. We just happened upon it.

It was a gorgeous night for a sunset after an afternoon of storms. I don't think I've ever seen the tide so low going so far out into the Gulf. It was so low, the seaweed made the Gulf look like it was covered in green grass.

I Love You A Bushel & A Peck

One of the things Nana used to always say to us was that she loved us "a bushel and a peck." Truthfully, I'm not even sure what that means. I just always figured it was some phrase from when she was growing up on the farm in Mississippi.

Then today, Mom and I saw Julie & Julia (more on that later, but I LOVED it!), and in the middle of the movie there's a scene with "Bushel & A Peck" in the background! It turns out it's a song from Guys and Dolls. It gave me a big smile to listen to the words for the first time.

Of course, I had to find the song for you. Enjoy!

Fabulous Birthdays Through the Years

The most beautiful birthday flowers in the world.

You may have heard that today is my birthday. It's true. I'm 25. Wait, that part might not be true.

Over the years, I'm had some pretty extraordinary birthdays.

Because my birthday is in mid-June, it always fell right after school let out for the summer. Many years, we would hop on a plane on June 15th and I'd wake up at Nana's house on my birthday. I'd come downstairs for a special birthday breakfast with the whole family and then usually off to the beach. I grew up believing the only way to celebrate my birthday was to go on vacation.

My 18th birthday arrived just days after my high school graduation. Nana was in town for the big occasion and I got three of my girlfriends together and we all went into Chicago for lunch and a Wendella boat ride. It was freezing cold (even colder than it was today), overcast and windy and although we were dressed warmly, the wind still made it uncomfortable. Nana asked the Wendella folks if they had any big plastic garbage bags that we could use as rain/wind slickers. It was actually a great idea!

Janet, Cheryl, Me, and Cindy (l-r) on the Wendella Boats using plastic garbage bags to block the wind.
Yes, I gave Sally Jessy Rapheal her glasses back.

I celebrated my 20th birthday at Watervale and because this is supposedly a family blog, I can't describe the debauchery that ensued. Let's just say that it didn't hurt things at all that the Bulls had just won their first NBA Championship.

In 1992, I turned 21 with the help of my good friends Heather and Emilie, and Michael, Scottie, and the rest of the Chicago Bulls. Heather and I spent the day in Chicago at the Bulls Championship Rally in Grant Park and then window shopping on the Mag Mile. After taking the train back to Lake Forest, I drank at The Lantern for the first time. That was also the year Dave surprised me with the sterling silver pendant he made of the two of us. An incredible day.

1993 found me in Washington DC without my friends or family. I spent the day wandering around Georgetown and then watched the Bulls win Game 4 of the NBA Finals over the Phoenix Suns on a date. Of course, the Bulls went on to win their third NBA Championship days later.

I spent my 25th birthday reading the subliminal messages Michael was sending me through his stellar performance in the winning game of the Bulls 4th NBA Championship.

I turned 27 in 1998 and was in Chicago for the Bulls 6th and final NBA Championship. The night before my birthday, Christopher and I were in the stands at Wrigley Field watching Kerry Wood pitch a nailbiter and Sammy Sosa start his home run streak by hitting 3 that night as they beat the Milwaukee Brewers 6-5. On my birthday, I celebrated with a few hundred thousand of my closest friends in Grant Park as we celebrated the Bulls and witnessed the end of an era. When I arrived back in DC on the 17th, I was surprised by my friends at a party at the rooftop bar at the Hotel Washington.

When I turned 30, Dave surprised me by flying to Chicago for the weekend. My dad also came to town and when I got up that morning, my lawn was filled with 30 plastic pink flamingos! I'm sorry I don't have pictures.

And then there was today. Today was fabulous. Words can't express my gratitude for all the joy and love I felt today. I got to talk to Nana, which was the highlight of my day. I heard from friends all over the country and friends in my neighborhood. God, I love the birthday reminder on Facebook! Emails even poured in tonight from my mom's childhood friends! Local friends surprised me with many delights. And my dad started his new job today.

I have had some amazing birthdays throughout the years, but today was the best. My gratitude list is long and I'm putting my head on my pillow tonight secure in the knowledge of who I love and who loves me. Words can't begin to express how full my heart is tonight.

Thank you.

Happy Mother's Day!

Me, my Mom, and Nana at the Sponge Docks in Tarpon Springs, FL probably in 1975.
From my private collection.

It's Mother's Day and I am one of the luckiest daughters in the world.

I come from a long line of incredible women. They are strong and independent women. Women who are resilient, compassionate, tender, strong, loving, and fighters. They are smart and capable. Actually, they are beyond capable. They are extraordinary. They see things the way they could be and work to make their vision a reality. They are achievers. They are talented and creative. They are pioneers.

Yesterday, I visited my Grandma Gardner in Glencoe. She passed away 13 years ago, so it was really more of a one-sided visit at her grave site with me doing all the talking and even a bit of crying. We didn't have the best relationship when she was alive, but I think she'd be proud of me and see quite a bit of her in me.

Today, I had the privilege of speaking with both my mom and Nana. Mom called me from the nursing home. She'd made a meatloaf (that Nana had requested last week) and taken a little to her to mash up and feed her for dinner, but Nana couldn't eat it today. Nana isn't doing well, having good days and then really bad ones. Today was a really bad one. She's got a cold, wasn't making any sense, and thought quite a few people who are very much alive had already died (including me). But I got to hear her voice and that made me happy beyond words.

My mom is an incredible woman. She's overcome so much in her life and always lived her life in service to others. Whether it was coordinating the National Guard to deliver food to shut-ins during the Blizzard of 1979, advocating on behalf of the disabled with the Illinois legislature in 2002 to get funding restored for programs for the mentally ill, or advocating on behalf of my grandmother with Verizon and other phone companies to make them provide operator-assisted calls for the blind for free in more recent years, my mom has fought the battles most people believed she had no chance in winning.

Yes, I am proud of all the Bear, Gardner, Paulk and Scruggs women who came before me.

Click here to watch a video about my mom being the 2009 Mom of the Year! Congratulations Mom!



Click here to watch Martina McBride sing "In My Daughter's Eyes" which I believe is the perfect song for Mother's Day, if you can't see the video above.

(Mom, I know you don't normally watch the videos that come with my blog posts because you see the posts via email and they don't come through. Please click the links and watch them. It's worth it. I promise.)

My Boys

In junior high, John, Pete, Gary, and I were thick as thieves. Although I've known John since first grade and we grew up just a block apart, it took us until junior high to get tight. That's when Pete and Gary came into our lives. They were the kind of guy friends my parents trusted implicitly. My parents always knew that if I couldn't be found, I was probably off causing trouble with My Boys.

When I had an emergency appendectomy in 6th grade, Pete and Gary came to visit. When my parents split up a year later, the Boys were my rocks. John's parents were already divorced, so he knew what I was going through more than the others. John and I used to walk the mile home from junior high together regularly. I always knew that no matter what, I could count on My Boys to get me through.

One of my favorite memories of My Boys took place without me the summer after 7th grade. In what I'm certain was his effort to give us some normalcy even though there was no way he could afford it, my dad had taken Dave and me to Watervale for a week and my mom was home alone. At some point that first night alone, mom was woken up by incredibly loud noises and the sounds of all of the pipes rattling as the outside hose being turned on. Believing burglars were trying to break-in, she picked up the phone and called 911 without looking out the window.

Terrified by the horrendous sound of the pipes rattling, she sat on the floor of her bedroom whispering to the 911 operator and within a few minutes was told she can go to the front door and speak with the officers. No fewer than 6 squad cars had arrived from all different directions and when she opened the door, she saw the entire house and all the trees had been tp'd, lipstick had been used to write on the garage windows, and the hose was used to make it all that much more difficult to clean up. There may also have been eggs involved. She and the officers had a good laugh.

I'm sure she knew that John, Pete, and Gary were behind this hysterical prank, but they were no where to be found. The boys and I never spoke of it.

John and I have reconnected on Facebook in the last few months. He and his beautiful family are in town this weekend and we had plans to get together for some drinks tonight, but I've been really sick and had to cancel. One of the first things he said to me when we first reconnected was about a night he and Pete, and Gary tp'd my house. We had a good laugh because he didn't know they'd scared my mom so badly she called the cops. He has also apologized profusely, which I've assured him was entirely unnecessary. Truthfully, my mom thinks it was so funny that she tells the story to this day. "Jessica, do you remember that time when Dad took you and Dave to Watervale . . . . " is all I have to hear to know we're headed down the tp'ing path.

It's been 20 years since we've seen each other, but the thing about some friends is that you just pick up right where you left off. John is one of those friends.

Since I couldn't go out tonight, I've put John on notice that if my house gets tp'd tonight, I'm coming to find him early in the morning!

Thanksgiving 2008

As Thanksgiving 2008 arrives, I have so much to be grateful for. Although it's been year full of opportunities that I had not anticipated and the economy has me worried, just like everyone else, I find myself looking at all the blessings in my life.

First, in the material category, I'm grateful to have a home, car, and plenty of food. That may sound incredibly simplistic, but with so many people losing their homes and unable to put food on the table, I truly feel blessed that these are not worries of mine.

In the priceless category, I say thanks every day for my friends and family. I can't imagine being on this roller coaster called Life without any of them.

My mom is truly my hero. That may sound silly, but I know all that she has sacrificed in her life and the challenges she's had to overcome. Her strength inspires me. She is selfless beyond words. I'm blessed that my mom and I have such a strong bond. I wouldn't have it any other way.

My friends keep me on my toes. And that's a really good thing. They keep me laughing and help me not take myself so seriously. And the lessons they've taught me . . . . oh, the lessons.

Betsey and Ross surely keep my blood pressure down. Betsey is laying on my desk as I type and her purring is my favorite soundtrack.

My business and my clients are second to none.

I'm grateful for an intellectually curious President-elect. We are in the midst of terrifying economic times and our President-elect has his feet firmly planted on the ground. He is surrounding himself with the best and the brightest in all areas. He makes decisions with thoughtful consideration, something we haven't seen in almost a decade. And he's hit the ground running and will be further ahead on Day One than any president in my memory. I believe President-elect Obama has the country's best interests at heart and not simply his own agenda. He's made it cool to be smart and hopeful again.

I'm sure that over the next few days I will think of more that I'm grateful for and I'll add them to the blog as I'm able.

What are you grateful for?

Happy Birthday Mom!

Today is my mom's birthday.

There aren't too many people in this world I admire and respect unconditionally, but my mom tops that very short list. To say she is one of my heroes is not an exaggeration.

My mom has always been a visionary woman. She thinks outside the box and in ways that others can't or won't. When she sees an injustice she is always the first to step in and create justice. Going back as long as I can remember, my mom has been solution oriented and a problem solver. In fact, she solves problems before most people know they exist.

She has taught me to always help those less fortunate and me, and no matter how hard I might think I have it, there's always someone who has it tougher. Compassion and empathy are things my mom taught me not through words, but through her own actions. Time and time again, my mom has given a voice to those without one.

I am so proud to be my mother's daughter.

Happy Birthday Mom! I love you very much!

It's My Mom's Fault

When I was a kid, before we could leave for a trip, my mom went on a cleaning frenzy. She would stay up all night, the night before we left, if she had to in order to ensure the house was spotless upon our return. Needless to say, it drove us all crazy. C.R.A.Z.Y. Crazy.

I remember many arguments about these cleaning sprees. We lived in a house Martha Stewart would envy anyway, so I never understood the need for this over-the-top cleaning.

My mom's reasoning was that if she had to come home to a messy house, it would distract from her vacation. But if she came home to a house that could pass a white glove test or where the toilets were so clean you could drink from them (we never did, but I did wash my hair in the toilet myself when I was about 2), then her vacation would be truly relaxing and it would be like she'd had maid service while she was gone.

Well, they say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Normally, no one would ever mistake me for my mom, in the housekeeping department. My philosophy is that if I can't see it without my glasses, it's not dirty. And those of you who know me, know I can't see my hand in front of my face without my glasses. But without fail, before I go anywhere, even just overnight, I feel the need to clean like a mad woman.

So last Saturday night, despite being overexhausted from a very busy week and a 6 hour drive very early Sunday morning to get to Watervale early in the day (since I was already a day late), I decided to clean house.

But when I get home tomorrow, I'll be ready to hit the ground running and get back to work and it will feel like I had maid service.

In all seriousness, thanks Mom.

Thoughts of You

Thoughts of You is a poem my mom used to recite to me when I was little, often when she was tucking me in at night. I just found it handwritten inside one of my old day planners. I don't know how I know it's by Katherine N. Davis, but that's what it says. I googled her and the poem and can't find either one.

Thoughts of You
by Katherine N. Davis

If my thoughts could only do
The things I wish they would,
They'd call on you and brighten up your day.
They'd chase your cares away
And bring laughter instead . . .
They'd perch upon your bed
And fluff your pillow and even wait on you.
They'd let the sunlight in
And make gay flowers bloom
In profusion in your room.
They'd keep you company and chat
Of how you feel and this and that,
And smile at you and
Read you a good book.
Last of all, they'd make you feel
That each day is fair and sweet . . .
and then their job would be complete.

I Didn't Get Rich . . .

This whole George Carlin 7 Dirty Words routine reminded me of a funny story from when I was about 5, so I thought I'd share it this morning in hopes that you'd all think it was funny too.

When I was growing up, Jimmy Buffett was constantly on the record player (and for you kids who aren't familiar with these machines, click here) because my mom was an original Parrothead, not to be confused with a Deadhead. Jimmy's music is very singable, even for a 4 or 5 year old. One of my favorite albums then, and now, was A1A, which was released in 1974, when I was 3. We played it over and over and over again. And, of course, being the brilliant child that I was, I memorized all the lyrics.

One of the songs on A1A is called Door Number Three and is about this guy who is trying to make it big and believes his "whole world lies waiting behind Door Number Three" on Let's Make A Deal. He gets himself on the show and loses big. Crushed, after the show, he's walking backstage when he sees Monty Hall and says "No I didn't get rich you son of a bitch, I'll be back just wait and see." Of all the songs on A1A, Door Number Three was my favorite. I'm not quite sure why, given that A1A is full of Buffett classics - "Makin Music for Money," "Stories We Could Tell," "Life is Just A Tire Swing," and "A Pirate Looks At Forty" to name just a few.

But I LOVED this song. And I ran around the neighborhood singing it at the top of my lungs - especially that famous line "I didn't get rich you son of a bitch, I'll be back just wait and see!" I guess I have always been an optimist and believed that no matter what, I would always succeed, even if it took multiple tries.

Needless to say, my mother wasn't exactly pleased and as soon as she discovered that I was running around the neighborhood doing my best Jimmy Buffett impression, she informed me in no uncertain terms that we were no longer going to be listening to A1A and I couldn't sing that song. Something about dirty words in the song. I don't know, but I can't find ANY of the lyrics from "Door Number Three" on the list.