Awaiting the News

We are expecting twin grandsons in N.J. sometime between now and early August. Our son (the expectant father) has told me to keep my phone charged and with me at all times. He is going down a list of "Things to do before the boys arrive," and is, understandably, edgy. So far it seems the list is getting accomplished: the upstairs floors have been refinished and walls painted, cribs are set up, baby clothes (received as gifts) are washed and put away, double stroller is on loan from a friend, car seats are installed in the new mini-van, his wife is registered at the hospital, and the doctor's appointments have gone by without incident. Each grandson is already five ++ pounds at thirty-five weeks.

Our daughter-in-law is calm and asserts she is still feeling reasonably comfortable, thanks to air-conditioning in the 90 to 100-degree temperatures they've been having. She is even going into the lab a couple of days a week.

We all have our assignments. The neighbor next door has agreed to take the two-and-one-half year old sister, who will be deposited there with the neighbor's four children when mom and dad take off for the hospital. The other grandma has the assignment to retrieve our granddaughter from the neighbor when she gets the call. She lives just fifty minutes away. "When will you see the boys?" I asked.

"When you arrive," she answered. Since we are six hours away, our assignment will be to notify those not yet given the call, then to hop in the car and begin driving. I asked our son if we could stay in a hotel near the hospital, since grandma #1 will be unpacked in the guest room. "We have made room for all of you!" was the answer. Fortunately, we get along famously with grandma #1, since we will be bonding closely.

We will visit briefly while mom and babies are in the hospital, then head home when they are released. Next assignment: to return indefinitely when grandma #1 wants some rest! We are on an alternating schedule for the remainder of the summer. With our son taking time off from work, there will be at least three of us to help while Charley and I are there. Fatigue will gradually diminish the excitement, I'm sure. But for now, we're all busy trying to stay busy!

Serenity

Since my husband and I will be travelling for several weeks, I thought I'd post a last-minute blog before signing off till the end of this month.

Over the Memorial Day Weekend, we had the entire family with us at the beach in Massachusetts. There were our two sons, our two daughters-in-law, three granddaughters, and two EXPECTED twin boys, due in early August.

The weather was idyllic - hot sun, with no humidity. Definitely beach weather, which is where we sat for two out of three days. In-between, of course, three little girls, ages five and under, sampled swingsets and slides, supplied the bird feeder and hosed the perennial beds, had LOTS of wagon rides in the yard while licking ice cream with sprinkles, and sat over-looking boats, sliding across the water, while we waited...and waited...and waited at a restaurant for our dinner.

One of our sons was getting over a sinus infection; a daughter-in-law had an ear infection; the other son and a granddaughter had chest coughs. Charley and I prayed we wouldn't get sick just before leaving for a college reunion and a European trip. All of that was forgotten in an instant.

The perfect moment - the moment that will be etched in my memory bank for a long, long time - was when three little girls all cooperated to build a sand castle, collecting rocks for windows and turrets, while their dads scooped the sand into buckets and their moms in beach chairs supervised, amid their chatting. This was the moment of serenity when I thought to myself, "Life can get no better than this!"

Reentry

We have finished our "snowbird" move from Florida to Massachusetts. The older we get, the more effort it takes! We will remain in Massachusetts for four months, but the transition has taken a week.

I am certainly not complaining!! We are among the fortunate ones to have two residences to enjoy, especially in this economy. We try to forget our age in the process.

But there are way too many boxes and suitcases to unpack from the SUV. I still have not learned to bring the minimal amount of clothes for each location. Charley (my husband) claims he is brought along simply to drive his shifts and to load and unload the car! The files, papers, folders, computer equipment, and everything related to my book sales took up half the space in the car and then we have to find locations for all of it once we arrive. Which means throwing out a lot of stuff I never look at, just to put the other stuff from the car away. The floors are littered.

Then there are the things that don't work when we walk in. This time, there was no hot water, no water pressure in the master shower, no cable, and the floodlight outside our bedroom kept going on and off all night. Oh yes, we also had (and still do) a running toilet. So we take turns waiting for the plumber, electrician, and cable guy.

Did I mention that my beloved husband of forty-five years (next month) left the trunk door up on the SUV as he drove it into the garage, after we had driven 1500 miles? And smashed the entire back window? And claimed it was NOT because he was tired? Mind you, this is MY car that I drive every day, but THANK GOODNESS it wasn't me pulling into the garage! There were tiny fragments of glass in every crevice of the car, all over the garage, and scattered out onto the driveway. We are still tracking them into the house. The windshield wiper was torn off and its motor disabled. The entire first afternoon after our arrival we spent with the dealer and insurance adjuster. Fortunately, we got a loaner and four days later (and almost $500 later, after deductible) I got my car back.

Summer is wonderful...truly!! I look at the green expanse of golf course leading down to Buzzard's Bay, and every time am convinced that I've never seen anything so beautiful. Not to mention that we are now just over an hour away from two of our adorable granddaughters! So now that the first week's reentry is over, I'll shut up and enjoy.

A Writer's Hardest Task

I am looking out the window of our Florida condo and seeing a glistening aqua pool that beckons. Since it is ninety-something degrees in early May, the beach is packed. I'm retired from the interior design business and from teaching high school. So what am I doing sitting at a computer instead of enjoying the Florida sunshine?

I am making myself sit here to work on some chapters on the new book I started. It is about my parents, who lived to be ninety and ninety-five, with sound minds and bodies. This memoir will reconstruct the last three months of each of their lives, the months when our roles reversed and I became the caregiver for all the surgeries, hospitalizations, rehab unit, and nursing homes.

But this memoir will also reconstruct some of the hilarious things my parents did...some of the idiosyncrasies that we as their kids used to make fun of, and are now repeating...some of the reasons we remember them so well and loved them so deeply, despite what happened during the last ninety days.

A writer's hardest task? To make myself sit down every day and produce something on the computer screen, despite the distractions and the temptations. I know that almost every job takes self-discipline, and being a writer most certainly does. It is the satisfaction of production that far outweighs lounging on the beach or swimming a few laps. Those relaxing moments come eventually, after I know I've put in a good morning/afternoon of work. Self-discipline comes after years of practice. I taught my classrooms of kids the tricks, and I taught our own kids. It's a great leveller, too, since a lot of people without superb talent have the self-discipline to work harder to even the playing field.

Bottom line? I love what I'm doing, so I don't mind putting in the effort and missing out on a few things. The product is definitely worth the sacrifice. In other words, put the butt on the seat, and make something happen!

Question Most Often Asked

I was recently honored to be on a panel in Cambridge, Mass., with our younger son Todd and Tom Brady, Sr., along with Nancy Brady (Patriot quarterback's father and sister). We had lots of things in common and the audience learned some insider stories about the famous quarterback and the support group that is his family. During the question and answer session, an audience member asked the question that I am most frequently asked after publishing MINOR LEAGUE MOM: A MOTHER'S JOURNEY THROUGH THE RED SOX FARM TEAMS(the story of Todd and his brother in the minor league system from rookie team through "AAA"). We were asked, "When did you know your sons were elite athletes?"

My answer is always the same. As a mom, you keep hoping that your kids have the skills to simply make the team at the next level! Never once did it cross our minds while they were growing up that they would enter the ranks of the pros. After all, we lived in a small town in Rhode Island, and although Tim and Todd were both on all-star baseball and ice-hockey teams, we had a rather small circle of comparison. Our goals athletically never looked beyond the team at the next higher level. Finally, when Tim and Todd were in college and playing intercollegiate ball, we had a more legitimate basis for comparison. At that point, when college coaches were telling us they might be good enough to play professionally, we listened. The major league scouts at the game were tracking them, but they were tracking a lot of other players, too.

Of course, we facilitated our sons' wishes to play at each new level. They attended baseball camp at the University of Maine and hockey camp at Providence College during the summers, and still played all-star baseball and hockey eleven months a year. When college coaches began recruiting them, we took them to a selection of schools to meet the coaches. It was instant like or dislike.

Tom Brady, Sr., agreed with me. He had no idea if Tom would ever continue to play after a disappointing freshman year in high school. Tom was the backup freshman quarterback in San Mateo, California. "Tommy rarely made it off the bench, never threw a touchdown, and his team never even won a game that season," he said. But Dad hired private coaches, sent him to camps, and produced a recruiting video so Tom, Jr., would earn a scholarship to the University of Michigan.

Tom, Jr., was in love with football, just like Tim and Todd loved baseball. Tom was a back-up quarterback at Michigan with big-league dreams. "You don't limit their horizons because of your horizons," Tom, Sr., told the audience. "We got our chance. Now they get their chance."

I added a P.S. to that story: have a back-up plan! In our home, education was the top priority. That was one of my jobs as a mom: to make sure they stayed focused on their studies. Our expectations as parents became their expectations. My other job was always to support their performance on the field, and not to criticize. There were coaches to do that.

In Tom Brady, Jr.'s, case, he probably won't need a back-up plan. But when the seven years of minor league ball were over, Tim and Todd did. By that time, Charley and I knew our kids were gifted athletes, but there were lots of other things they had gifts for, too.
...with thanks to Brooke deLench for her blog on MomsTeam.com

Ripples of Connection

There's a quote from a memoir I read entitled TALES FROM THE BED by Jenifer Estess, as told to Valerie Estess. It goes like this: "It isn't what you know, but how you perform. Skills are the essential piece of the puzzle. They help you deliver the goods."

During the last year, I have been consumed with my book that was published in April, '09, entitled, MINOR LEAGUE MOM: A MOTHER'S JOURNEY THROUGH THE RED SOX FARM TEAMS. I thought I had "delivered the goods" by writing a unique story and a readable one, then finding a publisher interested in getting it on the market. Turns out that was only step one! Marketing the book became a full-time job - book signings, radio and tv appearances, etc., etc. All of which was new to me, fun, and certainly interesting. The marketing took on a life of its own (and overtook mine in the process) and proved to be another challenge in which I had to (and still am) "delivering the goods."

The impact of publishing a book cannot be imagined beforehand. In a previous blog, I described reconnecting with a former minor league player who was on the Red Sox with our two sons in the '90's. I had written about this player, who is now a Little League coach in Florida. He's coaching a kid whose mom had read my book and contacted us. We surprised the coach with a visit.

This past week more ripples surfaced. I heard from two of my former high school English students, both from Old Town, Maine. They had heard about the book and tracked me down on the internet. Their sentiments and compliments about turning them on to the written word in the classroom (and making them memorize Shakespeare!)touched me greatly after all these years. As I told them, a teacher can remember his/her failures in the classroom with great clarity, so it is hugely satisfying to learn of the successes, as well. I guess at some point during my teaching years I had "delivered the goods."

I sincerely hope the ripples continue, not only about the first book of mine, but about the next memoir that I am now starting. Let's hope I can "deliver the goods!"

Sustaining an Injury

On April 22nd at 6:30 p.m. I will participate in a panel discussion in Cambridge, Mass., with our son Todd and Tom Brady's (the Patriot quarterback's) dad and, hopefully, his mom. Our son Todd, along with his older brother, were the subjects of my book published last April entitled, MINOR LEAGUE MOM: A MOTHER'S JOURNEY THROUGH THE RED SOX FARM TEAMS (on Amazon). The subject of the panel discussion will be, "Parenting Elite Athletes."

I'm sure that somewhere in the discussion the topic of injuries will arise, particularly injuries in the pros, where jobs are at stake. Although I am not in that category, I would like to relate my recent experience with a back injury.

I am a grandmother who works fairly hard to stay in shape. I have played on a tennis team at a rather high level for twenty years. We compete all around South Palm Beach County, Florida, from September till the middle of May. I have worked out at a fitness center twice a week for the same number of years, and I play golf twice a week. Sevven days a week I am running off to compete or exercise, including four-mile walks with my husband. I live to play sports, which are a huge component of my life, along with my family, and writing/marketing my book. Many of our current friendships today were made on the courts.

When my mother was in her eighties, she suffered from osteoporosis, then dislocated and herniated discs. Her will power enabled her to exercise faithfully for three months in a pool. This was a godsend, which kept her free of surgery till she was ninety. At that time, she cracked a vertebra, and the angioplasty (gluing procedure) which had worked for my father, unfortunately, had unforeseen consequences for my mother. After a piece of vertebra fractured off into the spinal column during angioplasty, she sustained two emergency surgeries and could not regain her strength. Ninety-two days after entering the hospital for the first operation, she passed away.

I have just experienced my first back problem, and it is purely a result of my mother's genes. Fortunately, I don't have osteoporosis, but I have a herniated and dislocated disc which has put me out of action for five weeks already.

When people say they experience back pain from stenosis or sciatica, I now know what they are suffering. The back is so fragile, and yet we put so much pressure on it with gigantic purses, books, cartons, groceries, even children and grandchildren that are too heavy for us. We do not lift with our legs, but instead with our backs. Women's heels put the back at an unnatural angle. I have learned that any treatment for the back is a matter of TIME and exercise, and the mending cannot be rushed.

I refused cortisone shots (a stopgap measure, in my view, and dangerous if too many) and stopped all activity. I entered five weeks of physical therapy; I wore a brace; I used a heating pad and always wore (and still do) sneakers for support. In order to sleep with the pain going down my leg, I bought a hard, contoured foam pillow to put between my legs to keep my spine straight. I swam laps five-six days/week. And I succumbed to taking an anti-inflammatory pill for one week, before I discontinued it because of warnings about stroke, cardio-vascular disease, and bleeding ulcerations.

Did I have withdrawal symptoms while I couldn't play team tennis? NO! I was too busy swimming laps in the pool; reading books I had piled up for months; and starting to organize the writing of my second manuscript. I actually loved the time off from the treadmill! Of course, I'm counting down the days till I step back on the court, but it will be a friendly social tennis game, not a competitive match. The matches might return eventually. One thing I've learned: you can't rush the mending of your body. Oh yes, I learned another thing: to get off the treadmill and do some things that are on your "bucket list."