Remebering Lyle

“He lived his life with dignity, which is ironic seeing as how he will be eternally covered by a Cubs blanket.”


Two sons eulogized their father Thursday. Although both separately claimed they preferred to “wing it” with public speaking, neither wanted to "screw up" such an important moment and pulled out copious notes from their jacket pockets. Each told stories of life, love, smiles and laughter that encapsulated the spirit of their dad, Lyle.  “I don’t call him Lyle out of disrespect," one son explained.  "He was Lyle to everyone. My friends always asked me how Lyle was doing, even before he got sick.” 

This was the second funeral I went to in as many months.  The first was for a distant relative I had seen on and off over the years.  In stark contrast to Lyle’s service, no one at the chapel of my grandmother’s cousin stood up to say anything. No family member.  No friend.  The ancient rabbi spoke about Mel’s love for the synagogue’s brotherhood, “It was a wonderful thing,” and for golf, “It was a wonderful thing.” He spoke of Mel’s service in the military, “It was a wonderful thing.” Generalizations punctuated by the addition “It was a wonderful thing” somehow did not seem so wonderful.

“When the doctor came in to tell Lyle he had terminal cancer, mom and I knew already and were braced to support him as he heard the news,” his son Mark explained. “Lyle just looked at the doctor and said, ‘So Doc….what you’re telling me is….I shouldn’t start reading any books that end To Be Continued?’”

As the laughter surrounded me at Lyle’s funeral, I started to wonder how I might be remembered. What have I brought to the table?  Who would speak for me?  These sons gave numerous examples of generosity, kindness, happiness and smiles. Oy. That’s a wonderful thing!

“The only thing Lyle hated was being late.  If dinner was called for 7:00, he’d be there at 6:00.  If the game was at 6:00, you’d better be in the car by 5:00.  In fact, I’m pretty sure he wasn’t scheduled to pass until October.”

Lyle’s family credits his upbeat spirit and love for life in helping him live a full year and a half longer than what the doctors had given him.  And he lived that time with a great quality of life. He and my dad went to the racetrack every week and laughed and laughed. I could tell that losing such a good, lifelong friend has affected my dad deeply.  He called me twice to ask me to send flowers (I sent a vegetable platter to the shiva – much more practical these days). Dad reportedly has also started to look for his own burial site.  He and mom think they would like to be buried at Memorial Park across the street from Westfield’s Old Orchard Shopping Center so we can wave at them from the car when we go to the mall.

Growing up, when the Chicago Bears played at home, Lyle and one of his sons would drive to my house before the game. They were joined by my mom's brother (with one of his kids) and my dad’s brother (with two of his kids), and my dad would choose one of his own offspring for the coveted trek to Soldier Field. The bundled gang of “Da Superfans” would pile into my uncle’s conversion van to head south on Lake Shore Drive.  Between us, we had nine season tickets, but only one parking pass.  The youngest kids always sat on the floor.  Who needed seatbelts anyway, right? 

When my brother, cousin and I arrived at the funeral, Lyle’s oldest son, Brian, greeted us and told us how he stuck the tickets to that night’s pre-season game into the coffin with his dad.  “I figure we won’t be needing them tonight, and he might like to have them.”  After the service ended, the family members exited the front of the chapel to go to the limo that would lead the procession to the grave site.  Everyone else slowly filed out the other doors to the parking lot to follow.  I took that moment to go up to the coffin to say a silent prayer for Lyle.  Head bowed, eyes closed, Mourner’s Kaddish in full mumble, I heard feet running up behind me, followed by my brother urgently saying into my ear, “Don’t even think of taking those tickets out of there!”  I laughed.  It’s a wonderful thing!

For Lyle G. Hochman, may his memory be for a blessing.  Amen.

Back to School Fun

As summer draws to a close, the anticipation of school is revving up. Who's more excited? The kids or the parents??? My husband has done an amazing job this summer with getting the kids to day camp & all of their activities & play dates. Now he is shedding tears at the prospect of the school year (or maybe those are droplets from his champagne celebration).

While my 6th grader is on her 12th sleepover this week (trust me, she's more than capable of accomplishing this feat...), my 2nd grader got his military hair cut and is diving into his chapter books and sports gear.

This is a fabulous time to get the home organized. Many of the storage items created for college dorms are also wonderful for hall closets and laundry rooms to separate linens, crafts, sewing supplies, board games, old high school yearbooks and other random items. Face it - if it's in a closet, don't be fancy with the look by paying for fabric lined wicker baskets. Something that sees less light of day than your "French Maid's Costume" should not cost more than its coordinating feather duster.

While you pick out the back-to-school clothes, make sure to get them big, so the kids can grow into them during the year, not out of them. And go through their closet to look for hand-me-downs or give-away items to donate to a school clothing drive or local shelter. If you sew, you can add buttonhole elastic to waistbands to make them more snug until the child fills them out a little better.

One rule in our house is a strict bedtime (8:00 for the young one, 8:30 for the older one), but an additional half hour if they are reading quietly. This was the rule when I was growing up as well. It gave structure, allowed for staying up a little later (we could read anything....ANYTHING), and it gave my parents time together to hang out and rub feet or scratch backs -- a tradition my husband and I carry on. The kids wake up earlier, but they are old enough to get their own breakfast, and check their email and Facebook and NHL highlights. Gotta love when they get older.

Good luck everyone! And if you are homeschooling your children, please make sure to include fun and creative classes with your local businesses (sewing, beading, pottery, etc.).

Confessions of an Etsyian

A guilty conscience needs to confess.

A work of art is a confession.

-Albert Camus

Artists dive deep into an abyss that many never experience. The inner soul.

Inspiration can strike at any moment, but to bring about the artistic materialization of this moment one must focus all manner of being onto the task at hand. Just as an actor must "get into character" adapting the walk, talk and history of the person or thing which he will portray, an artist must give over her sense of self.

It's an amazing experience. In college I would lock myself into a windowless storeroom with nothing more than the supplies needed, a hot pot for tea and Ramen noodles, and some Pink Floyd set the tone. No sense of time elapsing in the outside world. No distractions. No phone, texts, news briefs. Just a trip to the washroom every few hours and to refill the hot pot. Are you delving into the relationships of major religions through history? Are you writing the next great suspense novel? Or are you creating gift items that bring out your sense of whimsy? Hmmm....sounds familiar.


But what is your confession? The bigger the work, the greater the guilt? I'll let you ponder that for a moment. As for my guilt....I like sparkly, shiny objects. Every time I make a bookmark or earrings, I really want to keep them for myself. Each is unique. But the gift is in seeing the joy in someone's face when they say, "Oh, my daughter will LOVE these!" That is what keeps me going.

I encourage you to leave a message with a link to your confessions (come on Etsy and Artfire -- time to plug yourself and let people know a little about the person behind the art!!!)

Photos:
"Dancing Bishops" by Barry Sussman
Beaded Bookmarks by Rachael Allen Designs.
Dangle Earrings by Rachael Allen Designs.

RogueCreations.etsy.com

Croce -vs- Nike

There never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do

Once you find them

Really? Do you buy that? I used to agree wholeheartedly with that sentiment, until a freak accident in January changed my perspective on life. It has been stated many times before that people are “creatures of habit.” We have our daily routines, for the most part, especially if you work a steady job or have children who attend school. Think about your own life. Do you get up the same time everyday, go to work/come home/eat dinner/go to bed the same time everyday? If you are nodding your head, than the Jim Croce lyrics ring true to your life.

In order to “…do the things you want to do once you find them,” well, you need to change your life around.

Wait! Don’t panic! Change is good. Really. Lets look at the process in steps.

1] Find “what you want to do.” OK, with me it was getting back to “creating.” I love sewing, beading, writing, gardening and goofing off in the kitchen. I didn’t seem to have enough time to do all of this. I was wrong. See step #2.

2] Prioritize your life. There are some things we have to honor, such as our jobs and our families. So, on your list of important things, going to work is #1 on the schedule (just so you can pay for everything else). Now, what part of “family” is most important? Some people are lucky enough to have the big dinner together to chat about life. Others are so programmed with activities that family time might be more meaningful later in the evening, such as cuddling while reading or watching a TV program. So, what about the other few hours between work and family time? Can you get away for an hour a couple times a week to do something for yourself? When I was young, my mom used to go to a diner to write, and she now has an impressive amount of published books to her name - Susan Sussman, look her up! She was later able to vacate the corner booth and get an office, but she had to start somewhere…see step #3.

3] Just do it. Nike made that a catch phrase, but it is true. Take it from a woman I love and admire, Pat. She worked 2 jobs, cleaned and cooked for the cousins who housed her in the states, and earned enough to bring her 7 children to the USA from the Philippines. I asked her how she did all of that. She replied in a very matter of fact tone, “Oh, you just do it.” Her children honor her efforts by being equally hard workers, including a Pediatric Cardiologist, a nurse, accountants, a truck driver and loving parents to their own children.

I find myself breaking the day down into hourly chunks. One hour for cooking, one for sewing, etc. I spend time with my hubby and kids, but I also make sure to spend time doing the things I want to do, with or without them. It took a seemingly innocuous injury to help me get started. For months I physically could not do anything, so I had plenty of time to think about all the things I would do if I could. Now I am active and making sure I fulfill my dreams and enjoy my accomplishments. Steps 1, 2 and 3. Take my advice, and just get started. Go for it. Change your day around to include time to do something else in this short time we have in life. And enjoy yourself!

“Do the things you want to do once you find them.”

--Jim Croce out of context, but totally spot on!

The Next Phase

"Sitting down is unproductive."

My grandpa used to say that, but it wasn't until I was out of college that I really understood what Papa Sy meant. In our younger years we are content to sit and be passive as life whizzes by. As parents of young children, there is no time to sit.

But I have entered the next phase of life. Now I feel as though the world (or my heart) will stop if I am not in motion. As my children grow and need me less, I find myself filling time with new endeavors. Every week you can see new postings on my ETSY shop (http://RogueCreations.etsy.com) as I complete more sewing and beading projects. I manage twitter accounts for myself (http://twitter.com/RogueOne) as well as for my family's corporation and a non-profit charity I help (more on them in a later post). Weekends are dedicated to baking, roasting, crafting, reading, gardening and family time.

I know I am not alone. You are most likely a kindred spirit. You have come to a point in your life where you feel compelled to "find yourself" again - reclaim a lost piece of your spirit or identity that has been overshadowed by your need to put everyone else first. Do you have a blog? Are you Tweeting on Twitter? How many things have you sold on-line or at craft shows and art fairs? Are you shaking and shimmying at Zumba class and bellydance parties because this is the stuff that gladdens your heart? How old are you (and do you feel younger now than you did a few years ago?). Happy are those who Facebook with school chums, giggling at their posts, and remembering why these people were so important! Hazzah!

Join me as I embark on a new voyage. I encourage you to post your thoughts and links below so we can collectively reach out to each other in this on-line community.