Red's younger daughter, Sawyer, is the athlete in the family and besides playing competitive volleyball, loves to workout. So, you can imagine how thrilled she was when her local Lifetime Fitness gym re-opened, of course, with COVID protocols. And it seems that with each passing day, her workouts are becoming longer and longer. Knowing that her aunt, Black, has religiously worked out for years, she had a question for her.
Sawyer was using an old volleyball backpack for the gym that she was also using for school (she loved all the pockets and the versatility it offered) but was tired of constantly having to switch out all the contents. She was curious if Black had an old gym bag she wasn't using since she doesn't like to spend money unnecessarily. Not to mention, she knew her aunt's hand-me-downs would be better than anything she'd buy.
Black said she'd look and get back to her, and called back with a rundown of the options. Sawyer planned to go look at them, so you can imagine her surprise the next morning when she found this email waiting for her,
I was thinking about it … and now how much the "perfect" gym bag can help keep you motivated (and organized) … so … just find your "perfect" bag, and I'll pay for it.
Sawyer knew exactly what she wanted and to say she's thrilled with her new Adidas backpack is an understatement. Red let Black know exactly that, explaining how Sawyer talks not only about how much she loves it, but how she'll use it at college (she'll be a freshman next year) and wouldn't be surprised if beyond then. Although Red laughed as she relayed the details, saying that she doubted it would last that many years but how great it is that she so loves – and appreciates – the gift. Black saw it, as always, in a different way.
It is the small things.
A single sentence. A short sentence. But one, as Red has been thinking about ever since, that speaks a huge truth.
It seems the pandemic has resulted in people “recycling” relationships from their past, and I have already admitted to doing that and then being “ghosted” (the relationship was doomed the first go-round and trying to resurrect it reminded me of why). Although on the surface it may seem rude, there are a few “legitimate” reasons for ghosting, some less obvious than others.
Looking back to decades of dating, a handful of engagements, and two failed marriages, I realized none of them started as friendships. I will also admit that very few started with sparks of passion (I know those fizzle out), but all were analyzed in terms of compatibility. Too bad I was not aware of research indicating the majority of romantic relationships begin as long-term friendships.
This story began as an impromptu business meeting when I asked to speak to the manager of a food franchise I frequented, thinking there might be an opportunity to create a joint marketing opportunity with Red & Black. There was no way to know the attractive man sitting toward the back of the store, who I noticed when I first walked in, would be the district manager.
Although we seemed to connect in terms of business and marketing, and exchanged contact information, nothing came of it. Yet I would occasionally think of him. Several years later, Red and I were invited to speak at the 2011 Texas Conference for Women, and when we ran into him in the exhibition hall, I explained how we mentioned his company in our presentations.
Starting then, and over the years, we would occasionally find small ways to work together. But, we could go months without any contact, and then would meet for drinks and talk business and life. For hours. Red would ask why I did not pursue more, and I would always have an answer … or maybe it was an excuse. At first, I did not want to mix business and pleasure. Later, I wondered if it was mutual but did not want to risk the friendship hoping for more.
This past fall, as we all started to venture back out post-pandemic, I invited him to my high-rise for drinks, which Red pointed out was a significant step as I never invited anyone to my home. (In the past decade, only one other non-platonic man had seen my place.) The feelings seemed mutual, as was the apprehension about risking the friendship. As we talked for hours, I realized that he knew me better than almost anyone.
And, we had our first kiss. And, a second date, where I admitted, much to his surprise, that although I was a planner, I was going to try and let this relationship (he called it “being an item”) evolve organically. It was a new approach for me as I always look 20 years down the road and work backward.
Life then interrupted. Abruptly. And, repeatedly. First, my mother passed. Then, he had to deal with multiple life events that happened one right after another. At first, we texted on a regular basis. And then, there was nothing.
It was as if we had fallen back into our old habit of getting busy and putting the other person on the back burner. Not out of our lives, but recognizing something else needed our immediate attention. And, although he was in my thoughts, I decided to let him deal with things in his own way, with just the occasional text to let him know I was here if he needed me. Because,
We will always be friends, but if you rearrange the letters of the word “item,” you get the word “time” … and if we ever are to truly become an “item”, the time must be right.
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I can’t believe it’s already May, which means hot and humid weather is just around the corner. All I can say is … ugh. |
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Not a scientific term, but descriptive nonetheless. And, I hate to break the news to you, but the science of climate change and global warming means summers will keep getting hotter. |
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I can remember growing up in New York and summers being hot, but not like now. Of course, it didn’t help that Mommy didn’t run the air conditioning until it got into the 90s. |
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You cannot compare New York and Texas summers. But, I remember when we first got central air conditioning. It was because Daddy worked in the industry. And, before it was even standard equipment for new homes. Mom saved it for “special occasions” or heatwaves; it did not run all the time. |
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Which explains why at night, when it cooled off, Mommy and Daddy would sit on folding chairs on the front driveway along with our neighbors. |
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I wonder what they discussed every night. Obviously, that was well before climate change was a topic, let alone a hot topic, so to speak. |
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Cute, but we didn’t know then what we know now. And if we don’t start making serious changes, the crisis will only get worse. Which means we need to do more than just talk about it. |
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And, play the blame game. |
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So, who do you think is to blame? |
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Many blame the “older” generation, saying we allowed this to happen because, for decades, we did not do anything to prevent it. Increased use of cars and electricity. Burning an ever-increasing amount of fossil fuels. Not “going green”. Not even thinking about it. All of which led to where we are today. |
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You’ve always said, “Doing nothing is a decision. A decision to maintain the status quo.” But when you say blaming the “older” generation, surely you can’t mean us?! |
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“Older” is a relative term. For younger people, that might be us Baby Boomers or even Generation X. |
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But what did we do wrong? |
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When you were a baby, there was no such thing as disposable diapers. I can still remember the stinky diaper pail in your nursery. Not one of my fondest memories of you. |
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Thanks for sharing that. But you’re right. When I had the girls, it was a given that I’d use disposable diapers. I can only imagine how many thousands of diapers I’ve contributed to landfills! But we didn’t know about climate change back then. |
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If it makes you feel better, there is some debate whether cloth diapers are better for the environment. But, the point is convenience became the deciding factor and I doubt the environmental impact was even considered. |
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Good point, as I certainly never thought about it. But in my defense, once I learned that plastic was bad for the environment, I started recycling. And not just plastic, but also paper and glass. I’ve been doing it for years. |
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That is better than not, but there are 3-Rs: Reduce, Reuse, and Recycle, and recycling is not necessarily the best option. Funny thing is we “reused” long before it even was “a thing.” Do you remember reusing brown paper grocery bags by repurposing them into textbook covers? |
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Yes! Daddy and I would do it together. Of course, him being an engineer, they were perfect. And then I’d decorate them. But now that you bring up “reusing” things, I remember going to the drive-through at Dairy Barn with Daddy. We’d always have empty glass milk bottles to return when we’d buy more milk. |
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Back then, there were deposits not only on glass milk bottles but also on soda and beer bottles. They would be washed and sterilized, refilled, and reused over and over again. And, drinking water came from the tap – not plastic bottles. |
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OK, but there was still plenty of plastic. Do I need to remind you of Mom’s kitchen? Full of expired food and plastic grocery store containers and bags. I bet some of the plastic was over 50 years old. |
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Plastic survives for centuries. Regardless, it was plastic that she saved and reused, and did not trash. Granted, it might have been a financial decision since she was a Depression-era child and did not waste anything. |
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So, where did we go wrong? Maybe society’s too convenience-oriented and wasteful. |
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That is part of it, but if you do not know you are causing a serious environmental problem, why would you change what you are doing? The more important question is who did know, and why were we not told? |
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Sorry, that sounds more like one of the X-Files episodes I watched years ago. Except, I’m not sure I want to know. The important thing is that we know now. And need to do something now! |
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Exactly. So, regardless of who is to blame, we all can be part of the solution. |
Want to read other columns? Here's a list.
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I appreciate that bullet points may not be the typical
approach to Mother’s Day, but it seems appropriate to me …
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This year I write about Mother’s Day with a heavy heart and still much raw emotion, as our mom passed in December. My pragmatic side (yes, that’s usually Black’s area although she did sound somewhat warm and fuzzy above) knows that she had been 94 and led a full life, but that really doesn’t make it any less sad or fill the emptiness. But I find myself, when I least expect it and triggered by the most unexpected things, finding comfort in wonderful memories. And although Black’s first bullet point hits too close to home for me, I’ll try my best to focus on the other bullets. |