Memory Lane

A Blueprint For Life

Photo by Red


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Today's "Take Our Kids To Work Day," which made me think about how incredibly lucky we were that Daddy worked from home. Every day was take your kid to work day!


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Yes, back then, many people had home offices, but they were typically separate from the house. For example, doctors and dentists whose practices were in extensions on their house. But, I also remember when Daddy worked in a "real" office.


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Well, my memory is of Daddy working in his office in the basement. I'd come home from school, open the door to the basement, and shout down that I was home. Then, even before getting a snack, I'd go downstairs, plop down in the wooden chair in the corner of his workroom, and tell him all about my day.


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Even when Daddy worked at a corporate office in New York City and commuted on the Long Island Rail Road, getting home just in time for dinner, that never stopped him from immediately asking about my day. No matter how tired he might be, he was always genuinely interested in everything and anything I wanted to discuss.


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I never remember Daddy being tired, he was always present and engaged. I can remember asking him questions about his drafting table, the blueprints, and what he did, but it seemed based on math which was never my strong suit, so not much of it stuck with me.

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He was a professional engineer (PE) specializing in HVAC (heating, venting, air-conditioning), and I can remember thinking that his blueprints looked like abstract artwork. They were so incredibly precise. Just like his handwriting.


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That precision, along with his compassion, would've made him a great surgeon. I remember asking him why he never pursued that dream, and he explained that after serving in World War II he didn't want to put his life on hold to spend years becoming a doctor. But for purely selfish reasons, I'm glad he didn't because I loved growing up with him in the house.


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I think he loved it, too. He quit his job in the City, which was a leap of faith because he gave up a steady income and job security, all for the sake of having quality time with his family. And, being his own boss, which meant a lot to him.


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I think most people, if they could, would like to be their own boss. You still have to work incredibly hard, maybe even harder, but you do have more flexibility. I learned that from Red & Black, although I'd argue you're my boss.


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Working for yourself or your own company is very different from working for others. Years later, I learned that Daddy went out on his own not just to have more time with us, although that was very important to him, but because he realized he was not a "company man". Making recommendations based on what was best for the company went against his "Honest Abe" approach of making recommendations based on what was best for the client, and then doing them the right way, not necessarily the most profitable way.


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I never knew that! Although I'm not surprised. But regardless of his reasons, I'll always treasure my memories of the simple times of just chatting away with him while he worked. Can I remember what we said? No. But I can remember the feelings surrounding those conversations. Love, patience, interest, humor. Everything that made Daddy, well, Daddy.

New Year’s Eve is one of those nights (Black calls them “forced” celebrations) that often have great expectations attached to it. Many people make a big deal of it, but we prefer a lowkey approach, making the evening “special” by spending it with special people – for Red, her daughters, and for Black, close friends.

Some years it can be a bittersweet celebration (if loved ones have passed or no longer live close to home), but that can remind you of what’s most important.

So, let’s all toast to the promise and hope of a new year … and to champagne and toilet paper.



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New Year's Eve seems like the perfect time to stroll down memory lane, although I'm guessing your memories are much more interesting than mine.


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"Interesting" is a subjective word. Regardless, are you talking about memories in general? Or, New Year's Eve celebrations?


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Actually, it was just a passing comment. But since you've always seemed to make a bigger deal out of New Year's Eve than I have, are there any years that really stand out?


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Truth is the most memorable ones are the ones spent with celebrating with closest friends versus crowds. In fact, I think I have spent more than half of my New Year's Eves with John and Diana. Although, I will never forget bringing in 2000.
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We appreciate that not everyone celebrates Christmas, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have a favorite Christmas memory. Interestingly, or is it ironically, Black, who barely tolerates the “forced” celebrations associated with holidays (and birthdays) and prefers to look forward to the future vs. reminisce about the past, likes to tell the story of the “Jewish Santa”. Black may see a deeper meaning to it, but for Red, it’s a favorite and heartwarming Christmas story, although she’d never tell Black that …

BLACK: I do not know at what age my Christmas memories began, but I do remember being very young and in awe of a very large – and very well decorated – Christmas tree in our family room. I even remember peeking down the stairs late one evening and seeing my mother standing extremely close to Santa Claus. OK, you might not find that an unusual memory, except my family is Jewish.

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As soon as Black wrote it, it became one of Red’s favorite posts, and now it’s a Red & Black Thanksgiving tradition. After all, what could be a better Turkey Day tradition than memories of a perfect turkey?

And it’s the perfect way to wish you a very Happy Thanksgiving that, as Black says below, is … filled with memories that will last a lifetime.

Today is Thanksgiving, and I cannot help but wonder why we are online. However, everyone has their own way of celebrating. I know that Red is in the kitchen cooking – and watching a marathon of "The Godfather" movies. Which is perfect as turkeys take such a long time to cook and patience is important when you want it perfectly browned. So inviting, so appetizing, so … naked?

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