An interesting question

There was a question posed on FB this week that got me thinking,

“What did your Dad teach you?”

While this might be a more appropriate topic for Father’s Day, my Dad’s all consuming love of all things Christmas makes it apropo at this time of year.

I asked my siblings the question.

Here were their responses:

1. He taught me how to parallel park and was a little critical that I was quite a distance from the curb.

2,  He taught me how to get from our apartment in the Bronx to Mount St. Michael in Mount Vernon.  It involved buses and subways.  I was 11. Dad walked me up to the front gate.  He basically said “now you are on your own. See you tonight”.

3,  He taught me that you never fight on a holiday as you can’t get the day back.

4,  He taught that worry is pointless.  Whatever is going to happen is going to happen so why waste time worrying.

My friend, Kathy, said she learned how a parent loves their children.

I learned:

Work ethic.  Everyone one of his children obtained gainful employment as soon as they were old enough. My brothers both started working at 12,  both at neighborhood deli/grocery stores. My sister and I babysat but started “real” jobs when we each turned 16 at Bambergers (a subsidairy of Macys).

Dad taught me how to come in second in a Waltz Contest (avoid the judges for as long as you can).  

He taught me that holding my hand and squeezing it was another way to say “I love you”.

His belief in me going to work in The Big Apple.  Mom said “no”. Dad said, “she will get an education working there like no where else in the world.”  As I got ready to head out my first day as a commuter, I asked Dad what do I do when the train from Pearl River arrives in Hoboken, NJ.  He said “follow the crowd” . He was right.  I followed the crowd to the PATH trains through the World Trade Center and out on to the street for the one block walk to 140 Broadway.

He also taught me the joy of  Christmas.  I learned to believe that on Christmas Eve anything is possible. And yes, like Dad, I still look to the skies on Christmas Eve and watch for Santa in his sleigh and reindeer pulling them through the night sky.

At this time of year more than any other, I miss him because of the way he made December 24th feel. From lighting the fireplace Christmas Eve morning and making sure it never went out until we headed to bed Christmas night, to his taking over the kitchen to make our Christmas Eve feast, to him dragging a sled through the backyard, making hoof prints and boot marks to the back door of our house.

Magic.

What did your Dad teach you? Their lessons/advice are things that last throughout our lives.

See you next week.

OK I will give it a try

I work long hours.  I work just about every day. I am tired.

One day rolls into the next.

Being home has been a blessing and also a challenge.

Before “the virus”, we were passing through our house rushing to and from work.

We were spending a few nights a week at “The Mefford Inn”.

Being home has opened my eyes, housekeeper of the year, I am not.

Surface cleaning is fine and makes things look passable.

But the long hours we have been putting in working at home has left less time for chores.

We have started using Instacart for grocery shopping. It is fabulous.

Place your order and drive up to pick it up. I am too cheap to have it delivered.

This alone saves hours every week so it is a real win.

But the housecleaning, ugh.

I honestly do not have the energy by the time Saturday or Sunday rolls around.

Also, things with Jenn have been a little off so I am not wanting her to spend her free time cleaning.

And how often do we have the time and strength to do a “deep clean”?

I came into a little extra money.

I really could not think of a thing I wanted for myself.

Then it hit me, use the money to have the house cleaned.

Really cleaned.

On a recommendation from a neighbor, I made the call.

Last Friday was the big day.

No surprise, I was nervous.

And we did some straightening up before the two ladies arrived,

I was worked in the kitchen.  Jenn was in her room working with Jeter at her side.

They arrived at 11:30 and left six hours later.

Yes, six hours.

They hardly spoke to each other and your could hear them moving around the house.

I knew I was in for a treat when the first thing done was opening the oven, removing the racks and spraying everything.

The smell of Clorox, furniture polish and other cleaning materials filled the house.

Windows were washed, blinds dusted, baseboards cleaned, cabinets wiped down, lampshades cleaned, bookshelves cleaned and dusted and on and on.

The continuous thought that popped into my head was they must be thinking “what a mess”.

When they were ready to tackle the kitchen, I grabbed my laptop and moved to the recliner in the living room to continue working.

I needed to put on sunglasses to look in the shower it was so shiny.

By the end of the day, I was amazed.

It was worth every cent I spent and I really had no reason to be stressed or nervous. I am sure these ladies have seen a much worse project than mine.

Now in my quest to do more things for the house, I have someone coming this week to give me an estimate for new sliding doors for my shower.  My current ones are over 30 years old and one handle is being held on by duct tape.

Don’t I deserve better than a duct taped door handle at this point in my life?

I am not used to spending money on these kinds of projects or myself.

I am at a point in my life where I don’t need another bracelet or office clothes or many material things.

Sure I still have a bucket list, some travel, getting a book published, living long enough to enjoy life after I retire and more time with family or extended family near and far.

Now simple things like a super clean house of which I had no part in the process and no longer putting up with the duct tape and paper clip repairs is something I can enjoy.

Not having to walk the aisles of a supermarket (thank you Publix and Walmart) gives back hours of me time.

In the next few years, I will be tackling a kitchen renovation.  Two years is plenty of time to learn the options, make decisions about what “I” want and get ideas from others.

Part of the fun is planning.

And on the rare occasions, without much thought, I can treat myself to something.

Something practical without guilt. OK without too much guilt.

I have given myself the gift of time to write, binge watch something, nap, a long overdue phone call or just time to dream.

It’s worth every cent.

See you next week.