"We'll see"

"Mom, can I have this?"
"We'll see."
"'We'll see' means no!"

How many times did that exchange play out when we were kids? At least once a week during the trip to Granite Falls to get groceries and [maybe] stop by the Ben Franklin, at least when Grandma was working. I'm sure it happened even more frequently when we visited the metropolis of Marshall and went to Woolworths, ShopKo, Alco, and (on rare occasions) the mall.

My brothers and I longed to have the toys that the kids in the TV commercials played with, thinking that we too could make the Hot Wheels cars fly off ramps and magically land on the ground and keep rolling through the checkered flag... or the My Little Pony that would gallop along, mane flowing in a gentle breeze, then returning to the stable to be groomed and pampered and tucked into her little pony bed. All the wonderfully fun-looking games like Hungry-Hungry Hippos, Rock-em Sock-em Robots and Simon, and don't get me started on all the cool action figures and special edition Barbies and Cabbage Patch Kids, not to mention the always-coveted video game systems.

I'm not trying to paint a bleak and sparse picture of my childhood. To the contrary, we did get toys for Christmases and birthdays. And I'm sure each time we bargained, begged and/or pleaded for a certain toy, mom was making a mental note of it as she said, "we'll see." But to us at the time, we felt horribly cheated and marginalized. We were absolutely certain that "all the other kids had [insert-over-priced-plastic-toy-or-sugary-candy-here]" so why couldn't we? It wasn't fair! Ah, the eternal childhood lament.

My mom was, and is, a frugal person who has always had a keen eye for a discount, bargain, deal, freebie or coupon. We would often tease her about it and try to get her to buy things that weren't on sale, occasionally slipping full-priced items into the cart, only to have her immediately notice it and tell ask us to put it back.

As a kid, I accepted that that's just how it was. And a part of me was eternally pouty. I thought that "we'll see" was just a cruel phrase -- that mom never intended to buy whatever "it" was for us, before or after we asked for it, probably out of some arcane philosophy that kids should play outside with sticks and dirt (or something).

But as all kids do, I grew up.

Now, more than ever, I realize what mom's true intentions were. Clipping coupons and watching the sales circulars weren't just fun hobbies while we were growing up, it was a necessity. There were some pretty lean years on the farm, particularly during times of drought, and with one income, every penny had to be stretched to the absolute limit.

I'm sure it was hard for mom to see her kids yearning for toys that she truly did want to buy for us. I'm not yet a parent, but I do have an understanding of wanting to spoil little kids, just to see their faces light up and hear them laugh with delight. It had to be especially hard for her when we kept asking over and over again if we could have this or do that, knowing that each request carried a significant price tag and that she would have to somehow convey that we couldn't.

All this is to say that I suspect mom chose the words, "we'll see" because it was less painful than "no." The word "no" is so final and completely squashes any hope, and telling your child "no" when you so much want the answer to be "yes" had to be crushing. "We'll see" was a way around that, leaving the possibility open, just in case something changed and she would in fact be able to give in to our whining.

This Mother's Day, I wanted to write this blog to let my mom know that I get it. I get that she was doing the best she could with the resources she had at the time. And that even though I never did get a Lite-Brite or a Moncchichi Girl Doll or Perfection or a Skip-It, I wouldn't have traded my childhood for that of any of the kids who had all those toys and then some.

Now I understand that "we'll see" meant LOVE.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

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Long overdue (or Movin' on up - part 2)

When I think about the circumstances that brought me to Richmond, VA, in June 2005, and my initial reaction to being there, I never could have predicted that I would grow to love (and now miss) it and its people so much. It truly is a special place with a big city heart and a small town feel. On its own, Richmond could be any city. It has all the requisite ingredients for an urban landscape... large and small businesses, real estate, mass transit, restaurants, sports teams, arts and culture, etc. But what makes it special is, of course, the people.

So,this is my long overdue thank-you-love-letter to Richmond, Virginia and all who dwell there, especially those I had the pleasure of knowing over the past seven years. And it was indeed a pleasure.

Theatre IV/Barksdale Theatre and the Richmond Theatre Community

I spent the first month and a half in Richmond unemployed. I was lonely, homesick, and (I'll just go ahead and say it) miserable. I had farmed out my resume to practically every arts organization in town as soon as I got there. Each and every time, the response was, "we're not hiring now, but we'll keep your resume on file." Not exactly music to my ears, especially with mounting expenses.

In late July I answered an ad in the paper for a part-time gig working for a Business Consultant and Executive Coach, Rich Russakoff. [I am probably the last person on earth who got a job answering an ad in the paper.] The work was interesting, helped pay some bills and Rich was wonderful to work with -- we still keep in touch. But I still needed something full-time.

Enter Michelle Prior, former Director of Development at Theatre IV/Barksdale Theatre. She called me one day in August. She was one of those people who "kept my resume on file." She had taken a job elsewhere and they were looking for an Annual Fund Manager. I interviewed with Michelle, Phil Whiteway and Bruce Miller, was hired, and started work on August 19.

I have never loved a job as much as I loved working at Theatre IV/Barskdale. Sure, it had its ups and downs, as does any job, particularly any non-profit job. But the ups far outweighed the downs, and I am grateful for each moment I got to be part of that remarkable staff, not to mention the opportunity to appear on stage. Truly a gift.

Thank you, Phil and Bruce, for taking a chance on me, and to all my former coworkers who made each day a joy -- Jennings, Liz, Tony, Kate, Katie, Brittany, Chase, Lucas, Tracy, Sara, Natalie, Andy, Ford, Jeanie, Gordon, Ronnie, Eric, Janine, Shannon, Laine, Jillian, BC, David, Jessica, Joy, Deejay, Sue, Sarah, Lynn, Marcia, Hans, Luke, Bruce, Wendy, Doug, Jenna, Derek, James, & Tom. Thank you, Richmond actors, directors, designers, technicians -- my FRIENDS -- for embracing me with open arms and becoming such an important part of my life. I think about you daily.

Rock Band

On my list of "wish-I-woulda"s before leaving Richmond would have been getting to know the local music scene a little better. It seemed like the indie music culture wasn't as in-your-face as I had expected, and to uncover it required some sleuthing. I did, however, get a chance to play a couple times in a "party band" for lack of a better term, thanks to a Theatre IV coworker, John, discovering that I played the piano. I played keyboards with The Nixon Years, which is how I met Greg, Ceci, Jesse, et. al. -- music loving friends who accepted me into their circle even though they constantly reminded me how "young" I was. 

Penny Lane Pub

I honestly can't remember the first time I went to Penny Lane Pub on 5th and Franklin. I know it was with Billy Christopher Maupin, and maybe some others, although the memory is lost in a haze of ale and cider. But it was early on in my Richmond life, and it was there that I got to sew my wild karaoke Hall & Oates. If I had a mantle, my Female Vocalist of the Year and Entertainer of the Year trophies would be on it.

Not only did I find my voice at Penny Lane, I found some great friends as well, namely Catalina, Pipe, Joe, Karen, and of course, KJ of the century, Jason Power. Some of my favorite Richmond memories happened at Penny Lane, so I thank you all for making that possible. 

Area 10 Faith Community

Through my friendship with Catalina and a well-placed neighborhood flyer, I learned that there was a new church starting up that was meeting at the Byrd Theater in Carytown. So I went. And I liked it. And a little while later I joined the worship team. And I liked that too. And then a couple summers later I volunteered on a service trip to Vietnam. And that was life-changing.

Thank you, Chris Barras, and thank you Laura, Gwenyth, Marci, George, Keith, Brittany, Helen, Marissa, Jessica, Terry and Bob for experiencing Vietnam with me and sharing the joy of the orphans of SS3. And thank you Bic, Pink, Dat, Thao and Xu for sharing your beautiful country--and your beautiful selves!

Mr. Jones, Ms. Freim, The Pattersons and the Other Joneses

[Of course I have to acknowledge my now-husband in this espistle!]

I met Robb at a New Year's Eve get-together five and a half years ago. We quickly became friends and it was just in time, because my life began heading in a direction I never would have anticipated. I leaned on his friendship a lot as I muddled my way through a divorce, drawing comfort from the fact that he too had been through a similar situation. A few years later, our relationship progressed to the point of a marriage proposal on October 29th, 2011 in Rodanthe, NC and we got married 5 years to the day after we first met. (It was the perfect example of Romans 8:28.)

Through Robb, I got to meet and become part of the lives of some other wonderful people -- his family. I owe a huge thank-you to Elaine Freim, Robb's sweet and generous mother, who has a heart bigger than Texas and is always willing to share it; Robb's sister, brother-in-law, nephews & niece -- Jennifer & Bill Patterson and Caleb, Nathan & Eleanor -- who graciously let me share their brother and uncle, [especially Caleb who, as he pointed out, has known Uncle Robbie since birth, which is longer than I have... duly noted] and who never hesitate to extend their love and hospitality; and finally Robb's dad, Don, and step-mom, Vicky, who lovingly ushered me into the world of "pickin'" and in the case of Don, provided me a glimpse as to the origin of some of Robb's traits. I am grateful to all of you for accepting me into your family and I look forward to seeing you all again soon!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Contrary to how it may have appeared, the decision to move to Minnesota was far from easy. I was finally at a point where I was content calling Richmond "home." But, it was time to go. While the move has presented its share of challenges, Robb and I both feel confident that it was the right decision at this point in our life together. Who knows... maybe we will be led back to Richmond in a year or two? Or Albequerque? Or Tanzania? Or Greenland? (Right, Nate?)

There are so many others who I could thank by name who made a lasting impact on me during my time in Richmond... my friends at the Mill, my Sanders family, my Quilters sisters, and so many more... suffice it to say that I love you ALL very much. And so I leave you with a scene that quite appropriately sums up how it felt to leave:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jmkG6pnr7-g

(I couldn't embed it because of copyright, blah blah blah.)

Love you all!

XOXO