Smart Dog, Dumb Dog

They say you should always let the dog choose you.  We didn’t.  We chose our dog.  She is the strangest most stubborn animal I have ever come across. We got our dog from a rescue agency.  I felt nervous because the agency even did a house visit to make sure we were fit to be dog owners.  I cleaned the fish tank and watered the plants the day before.

We passed the agency test and the next weekend we had a new dog.  Enter Hubble.  

From the beginning Hubble hated being alone.  When we left she found her way out of the cage by propping it up on the coffee table, sliding the bottom tray out, and maneuvering out of the holes that the bottom tray had previously covered.   Despite the dumbbell weights we put around the base of the cage,  we would often come home to find she had moved the cage (with her still in it) into other rooms of the house.  She shredded shoes, clothes, and paper.  She hunted and swallowed 3 mice whole from our backyard.  She pulled our entire king size duvet through a tiny hole in her cage only to perch on top of it as if to show us she was king of the mountain.   
We talked to dog experts, watched The Dog Whisperer religiously, read books, and enrolled ourselves in dog school.  After instigating fights with other dogs, barely listening, and at times completely turning her back to me as we were working through the ‘sit/stay’ routine, it was declared that Hubble was last in class. One teacher in her most annoyed to be working with Hubble voice said something that has stuck with me: 

“That dog is very smart.  I’d take a dumb dog over a smart dog anytime, any day. Smart dogs think for themselves, they don’t listen as well, and they challenge.  Dumb dogs accept you as alpha and listen.”

Hmmm… 
Maybe that’s true for people too.  God didn’t make us dumb.  Maybe part of being human is struggle because we have thoughts and don’t always listen well.  We have our own way.  Sometimes I just turn my back on God even when God’s giving me direction.  And sometimes that direction feels hard.  There are days that I just want a treat and to roll in the grass.  But I guess that’s the struggle: the decision to listen when you feel differently.  This process is like a 12-step plan and I’m taking it one day at a time.  So I’m working on more listening and less grass rolling for today.  
  

Junk Drawer of Feelings

Big puffy clouds and I just want to fade away.

Not fade away in a morbid sense but fade away in the numb sense.  Fade away in the sense that I want to freeze time while I get my thoughts and feelings together.  Together like a neatly organized drawer of manilla envelopes with perfectly even labels on each tab.  Open the drawer and deep breath of calm from seeing each folder perfectly fitted into it’s place.

While manilla folders provide dreams of organizational bliss, I lack any kind of organization for my ‘inside’ feelings.  Instead they’re shoved unwillingly into the overflowing junk drawer I keep locked up and camouflaged.  I have a bucket of feelings with nowhere to dump them.

It’s easy and obvious to blame family patterns but even that seems like the cheap way out for me.  (I prob need to clarify- I’m not discounting anyone who has unhealthy family patterns and needs someone to blame.  That’s just not me at this point in time.)

Me at this point in time is:
I have feelings.
I know they are alive and well because my junk drawer of feelings overfloweth.
I’m frustrated with not being able to change things quickly.
That leads to more feelings.
Talk is cheap.  (That just seemed like a good thing to say here… )
I’m still trying to scoop out the 31 years of backlogged feelings.
More feelings… feels…. crushing.

Anyone who has been through (good) counseling would know- this crushing feeling is called the ‘tunnel of chaos’.  I endearingly refer to it as the “tunnel of pain”.  I have these new insights and feelings from the tunnel of pain. But instead of having any kind of skill to cope with it all, I’m just clunky.  I’m like a big puppy dog who hasn’t yet grown into her feet and is all muddy flopping around in a small apartment.  I’m contained for the most part but I keep running into things and causing unintended stains.

So in the meantime, anyone who is operating from the tunnel of pain: I send you a gigantic shout out of grace.  Do something everyday that fills you!

(In case you need any ideas- I painted my nails in a sea foam green color.  Apparently a junk drawer of feelings is the color of sea foam.)

Junk Drawer of Feelings

Big puffy clouds and I just want to fade away.

Not fade away in a morbid sense but fade away in the numb sense.  Fade away in the sense that I want to freeze time while I get my thoughts and feelings together.  Together like a neatly organized drawer of manilla envelopes with perfectly even labels on each tab.  Open the drawer and deep breath of calm from seeing each folder perfectly fitted into it’s place.

While manilla folders provide dreams of organizational bliss, I lack any kind of organization for my ‘inside’ feelings.  Instead they’re shoved unwillingly into the overflowing junk drawer I keep locked up and camouflaged.  I have a bucket of feelings with nowhere to dump them.

It’s easy and obvious to blame family patterns but even that seems like the cheap way out for me.  (I prob need to clarify- I’m not discounting anyone who has unhealthy family patterns and needs someone to blame.  That’s just not me at this point in time.)

Me at this point in time is:
I have feelings.
I know they are alive and well because my junk drawer of feelings overfloweth.
I’m frustrated with not being able to change things quickly.
That leads to more feelings.
Talk is cheap.  (That just seemed like a good thing to say here… )
I’m still trying to scoop out the 31 years of backlogged feelings.
More feelings… feels…. crushing.

Anyone who has been through (good) counseling would know- this crushing feeling is called the ‘tunnel of chaos’.  I endearingly refer to it as the “tunnel of pain”.  I have these new insights and feelings from the tunnel of pain. But instead of having any kind of skill to cope with it all, I’m just clunky.  I’m like a big puppy dog who hasn’t yet grown into her feet and is all muddy flopping around in a small apartment.  I’m contained for the most part but I keep running into things and causing unintended stains.

So in the meantime, anyone who is operating from the tunnel of pain: I send you a gigantic shout out of grace.  Do something everyday that fills you!

(In case you need any ideas- I painted my nails in a sea foam green color.  Apparently a junk drawer of feelings is the color of sea foam.)

Your Reality

Do you ever stop for a minute and realize that you’re living in another person’s reality?

You
might be physically present but when you pause and look around, you
feel more like an observer, an extra on a movie set, a stranger in this
place.

You probably wear the right clothes, say the right jargon,
and pretend to have passion about the same things but you still feel
phony. You still feel like you’re forcing assimilation.

What do
you do in those moments?  Do you push the ‘who I really am’ aside for a
while and then when you’re alone find your true reality?

I push the ‘who I am’ aside more than I admit. Some days my reality looks mundane and I’m bored in it.  There are times that I feel useless.  Not in a depressive kind of way, but in a way that pulls my thoughts to believe there’s so much more I have to give. And I’m left with a feeling of not giving enough but not knowing where to give more.  Do you ever have that thought?  What do you do with it?  

What does your reality look like?  Have you claimed it?

Today- my reality is simple.  Here’s the cliff note version:

  • Wake up.
  • Drink coffee.
  • Feel guilty for drinking coffee. (Thanks to my first cavity, coffee now falls into the ‘Guilty Pleasure” bucket of life. Too bad.)
  • Go to Target.  Fight back tears and deep thoughts at target.  It’s not the place to go crazy.
  • Find card for Brandon. (See below) 
  • Laugh my way through the 15% off clearance sections.
  • Look down at card. Laugh some more.
  • Call my brother who would rather be estranged from our family.
  • Learn he’s in Chicago.  Beg him to visit.  He doesn’t want to.
  • I cry, sort of.
  • I think of the card I got Brandon but I’ve already used up all the laughs I’ll get from it.
  • Get home from Target.
  • Clean up skunk blood puddles from under our grill.  (This probably deserves it’s own blog post.)
  • Talk with neighbor for over an hour and get run down of how he hunted the skunk that was living in our yard.
  • Use up the $50 worth of smell-good-fabreeze-candle-plug-in-glade-like products that I purchased from Target to rid our house of mothball smell. (Mothballs are connected to skunk story.)
  • Fact: I would prefer the smell of skunk over mothballs. 
  • Water flowers.
  • Mow grass.
  • Think some more.
  • Wonder about the reality I’m actually creating and wonder how to take the next step. 

Bless you if you made it to the end of this post.

 

Your Reality

Do you ever stop for a minute and realize that you’re living in another person’s reality?

You might be physically present but when you pause and look around, you feel more like an observer, an extra on a movie set, a stranger in this place.

You probably wear the right clothes, say the right jargon, and pretend to have passion about the same things but you still feel phony. You still feel like you’re forcing assimilation.

What do you do in those moments?  Do you push the ‘who I really am’ aside for a while and then when you’re alone find your true reality?

I push the ‘who I am’ aside more than I admit. Some days my reality looks mundane and I’m bored in it.  There are times that I feel useless.  Not in a depressive kind of way, but in a way that pulls my thoughts to believe there’s so much more I have to give. And I’m left with a feeling of not giving enough but not knowing where to give more.  Do you ever have that thought?  What do you do with it?  

What does your reality look like?  Have you claimed it?

Today- my reality is simple.  Here’s the cliff note version:

  • Wake up.
  • Drink coffee.
  • Feel guilty for drinking coffee. (Thanks to my first cavity, coffee now falls into the ‘Guilty Pleasure” bucket of life. Too bad.)
  • Go to Target.  Fight back tears and deep thoughts at target.  It’s not the place to go crazy.
  • Find card for Brandon. (See below) 
  • Laugh my way through the 15% off clearance sections.
  • Look down at card. Laugh some more.
  • Call my brother who would rather be estranged from our family.
  • Learn he’s in Chicago.  Beg him to visit.  He doesn’t want to.
  • I cry, sort of.
  • I think of the card I got Brandon but I’ve already used up all the laughs I’ll get from it.
  • Get home from Target.
  • Clean up skunk blood puddles from under our grill.  (This probably deserves it’s own blog post.)
  • Talk with neighbor for over an hour and get run down of how he hunted the skunk that was living in our yard.
  • Use up the $50 worth of smell-good-fabreeze-candle-plug-in-glade-like products that I purchased from Target to rid our house of mothball smell. (Mothballs are connected to skunk story.)
  • Fact: I would prefer the smell of skunk over mothballs. 
  • Water flowers.
  • Mow grass.
  • Think some more.
  • Wonder about the reality I’m actually creating and wonder how to take the next step. 

Bless you if you made it to the end of this post.

 

Green Means Go

He was driving 10 miles per hour over the speed limit.  Enough to make you nervous riding in the backseat of a minivan piloted by an aging driver with bad sight.  At each intersection with a traffic  light his wife would call out the color.  “Green.” The weight of the car begin to accelerate again.  As he approached each light, you could feel the car coast as he waited for the signal from his co-pilot.  “Red,” and the car found it’s way to zero mph.

Initially this story of a family friend induced eye rolling and I wondered how it’s possible that there are so few car accidents.

But once I got past my initial scoffing,  I envied the system they created.  Although it’s not ideal for driving, I would love to find myself listening to the red, yellow, green directions for my life decisions.  I want someone telling me when to go, when to slow down, and when to just stop.  
It would take the pressure off of my is this the right thing thoughts.  It would give me the freedom to live without wondering if I ‘should’ have done something different.  Is that how religion is supposed to be?  Is religion the kind of thing that gives you hints along the way–like when you get to major intersections, you just need to take your foot off the gas and listen?  
Or maybe, probably, life is more about grays.  And maybe red looks more like orange sometimes… and you find yourself guessing.  You find yourself guessing and thinking things like: this place looks strange.  
When I look around there are times that  I feel like a stranger.  Like maybe I guessed wrong or took a turn somewhere when I need to go straight.  Trusting the path that you’re on is so hard.  And I want to wish harder than the path that I will get clarity.  I wish so hard that my clenched fists turn my knuckles white, and I have tiny fingernail marks on the fleshy part of my palms, and my face scrunches up like a up like a wad of crumbly tissue paper.  
The wishing doesn’t work. 
In my moments of needing control, I take deep breaths and remind myself I’m loved. And there are other moments (only a few) of clarity when I know the path I’m on is okay.  And for anyone who isn’t sure about their path, inch it.  Take one tiny inch at a time and between inches- I recommend nice self talk and deep breaths. 

Green Means Go

He was driving 10 miles per hour over the speed limit.  Enough to make you nervous riding in the backseat of a minivan piloted by an aging driver with bad sight.  At each intersection with a traffic  light his wife would call out the color.  “Green.” The weight of the car begin to accelerate again.  As he approached each light, you could feel the car coast as he waited for the signal from his co-pilot.  “Red,” and the car found it’s way to zero mph.

Initially this story of a family friend induced eye rolling and I wondered how it’s possible that there are so few car accidents.

But once I got past my initial scoffing,  I envied the system they created.  Although it’s not ideal for driving, I would love to find myself listening to the red, yellow, green directions for my life decisions.  I want someone telling me when to go, when to slow down, and when to just stop.  
It would take the pressure off of my is this the right thing thoughts.  It would give me the freedom to live without wondering if I ‘should’ have done something different.  Is that how religion is supposed to be?  Is religion the kind of thing that gives you hints along the way–like when you get to major intersections, you just need to take your foot off the gas and listen?  
Or maybe, probably, life is more about grays.  And maybe red looks more like orange sometimes… and you find yourself guessing.  You find yourself guessing and thinking things like: this place looks strange.  
When I look around there are times that  I feel like a stranger.  Like maybe I guessed wrong or took a turn somewhere when I need to go straight.  Trusting the path that you’re on is so hard.  And I want to wish harder than the path that I will get clarity.  I wish so hard that my clenched fists turn my knuckles white, and I have tiny fingernail marks on the fleshy part of my palms, and my face scrunches up like a up like a wad of crumbly tissue paper.  
The wishing doesn’t work. 
In my moments of needing control, I take deep breaths and remind myself I’m loved. And there are other moments (only a few) of clarity when I know the path I’m on is okay.  And for anyone who isn’t sure about their path, inch it.  Take one tiny inch at a time and between inches- I recommend nice self talk and deep breaths. 

Do Over

I have friends.  And those friends are good for me.  And even though I try to keep people out these friends are gentle and strong enough to pass the security system scrunity test that I have fenced around my soul.

The friends that I have are armed with nice brightly colored scissors to cut back the parts that are suffocating me.  (….the scissors are brightly colored because they seem less intrusive that way-if they’re made for kindergarten art class, i’m sure my soul can handle it).

So those friends with bright scissors who are also strong, have spent some time with me and have given me a safe place to speak.  They act interested and that’s enough for me. I just spent some time with 2 of those friends in Chicago.

At the end of the trip- one of them said,

“I wish I could do this trip again and re-pack my bag knowing what I would actually need… to be more efficient.”

That’s profound.

I wish I could do the last decade over again knowing what I know now.  I’d pack differently.  I bring different things with me throughout this decade.  I’d leave some things at home and some things I would have left in the bag.

My counselor says that you enter into your 20s as one person- you grow, you prune (Christian way of saying painful changes), and you learn who you are.  Then when you get to your 30s the colors are brighter (like the scissors… i guess…) because you’re more of you.  You’re more confident.  You’ve discovered things.  You’ve learned what you love, how to love, and who you love. 

Even if those things are foggy- your 30s is the place where the ‘who you are’ begins to shine confidently, as broken as it may be.

My ‘broken as it may be pieces’ are quite broken though.  Like quite.  I’m ashamed.  I’m embaressed at my imperfections.  I’m sad that I’m just discovering these things.  I cant belive i’ve lived 30 years and made major decisions without this awareness.  I wish i could do a re-do- a do over to learn sooner, faster, stronger.

So here are the things I’ve learned and might be worth passing on… things I would pack if I could ‘Do Over’…

1. Let your authenticity win.  You being you will always win.   There is nothing that can bring down someone who is herself.

2. Look at your family of origin crap.  It’s there. I promise.  I fought looking in the rear view mirror for 12 years- and I fought the good fight (well, am fighting the good fight).  Hair falling out, bad skin, weird eating, unidentifiable side pain, leaky uncontrollable tears all point to ‘girl who never dealt with emotional issues triggered by seemingly functional family’.

3. Love your family.  They are broken.  So are you.  Love them anyway.  Find things to enjoy about their imperfectness.  Mostly i want to run from hard things and I have to remember that life is gray- and just like the 1 (3) strand(s) of hair turning color on my head, things are more gray than black and white.  So learn to love the gray.  More on this another day.

4. Have at least 2 really close friends but not more than 5. You need a group of people who love you even when you have 1 (3) strand(s) of hair, when you say stupid things, when you hate yourself, when you love yourself and when you need to share life.  Whatever that means.  But when you need to share life, you’ll know.  And you’ll be thankful you have 2-5 friends who you can let in without damage.

5. Have a backbone.  If your insides are absent or if you dont have guts, or if you have too many broken bones to move quickly, or if your vision isnt clear, or you cant count on your feet to get you anywhere…. none of that matters as much as your back.  Have a backbone that allows you to stand up for yourself.  I’m not talking pride.  I’m talking not ego. i’m talking about the subtle confidence of someone who refuses to let the world trample on them, shame them, or talk down to them.  The world has forces that will crush you.  (see #3 with broken family…). Keep you backbone protected and never ever ever ever ignore it.  It’s your pillar.  It’s the thing that keeps you standing when the world wants to beat you down. 

6. Get a good purse. I still dont have one and i’m almost 31.  I’ve been looking for ‘the right purse’ on sale for the past 11 years.  Splurge on yourself- you’re a grown ass woman so act like it.  (I’ll be getting myself a new worthy not on sale purse in the next 2 weeks….probably).

7.  Get honest.  Be honest.  Have the hard conversations with love.  Speak for yourself and seek to understand.  Directness and honesty will get you places- it will bring clarity, it will give you confidence, it will bring you respect, and it will free you. 

8.  Intensity is okay but learn to play.  I’ll need to get back to you on this one entirely.

9.  Decide not to be overwhelmed.  Just decide.  Life is overwhelming and it has the ability to hold your head underwater if you let it.  But just decide to be bigger and stronger than the things that life throws at you.  Oh and if you decide this, you should also decide to let God help you with this one.  I’m not exactly sure how that plays out for each person but if you get strong on your own, it wont work… see #2 (you might develop weird ailments from doing things on your own all of the time).

Do Over

I have friends.  And those friends are good for me.  And even though I try to keep people out these friends are gentle and strong enough to pass the security system scrunity test that I have fenced around my soul.

The friends that I have are armed with nice brightly colored scissors to cut back the parts that are suffocating me.  (….the scissors are brightly colored because they seem less intrusive that way-if they’re made for kindergarten art class, i’m sure my soul can handle it).

So those friends with bright scissors who are also strong, have spent some time with me and have given me a safe place to speak.  They act interested and that’s enough for me. I just spent some time with 2 of those friends in Chicago.

At the end of the trip- one of them said,

“I wish I could do this trip again and re-pack my bag knowing what I would actually need… to be more efficient.”

That’s profound.

I wish I could do the last decade over again knowing what I know now.  I’d pack differently.  I bring different things with me throughout this decade.  I’d leave some things at home and some things I would have left in the bag.

My counselor says that you enter into your 20s as one person- you grow, you prune (Christian way of saying painful changes), and you learn who you are.  Then when you get to your 30s the colors are brighter (like the scissors… i guess…) because you’re more of you.  You’re more confident.  You’ve discovered things.  You’ve learned what you love, how to love, and who you love. 

Even if those things are foggy- your 30s is the place where the ‘who you are’ begins to shine confidently, as broken as it may be.

My ‘broken as it may be pieces’ are quite broken though.  Like quite.  I’m ashamed.  I’m embaressed at my imperfections.  I’m sad that I’m just discovering these things.  I cant belive i’ve lived 30 years and made major decisions without this awareness.  I wish i could do a re-do- a do over to learn sooner, faster, stronger.

So here are the things I’ve learned and might be worth passing on… things I would pack if I could ‘Do Over’…

1. Let your authenticity win.  You being you will always win.   There is nothing that can bring down someone who is herself.

2. Look at your family of origin crap.  It’s there. I promise.  I fought looking in the rear view mirror for 12 years- and I fought the good fight (well, am fighting the good fight).  Hair falling out, bad skin, weird eating, unidentifiable side pain, leaky uncontrollable tears all point to ‘girl who never dealt with emotional issues triggered by seemingly functional family’.

3. Love your family.  They are broken.  So are you.  Love them anyway.  Find things to enjoy about their imperfectness.  Mostly i want to run from hard things and I have to remember that life is gray- and just like the 1 (3) strand(s) of hair turning color on my head, things are more gray than black and white.  So learn to love the gray.  More on this another day.

4. Have at least 2 really close friends but not more than 5. You need a group of people who love you even when you have 1 (3) strand(s) of hair, when you say stupid things, when you hate yourself, when you love yourself and when you need to share life.  Whatever that means.  But when you need to share life, you’ll know.  And you’ll be thankful you have 2-5 friends who you can let in without damage.

5. Have a backbone.  If your insides are absent or if you dont have guts, or if you have too many broken bones to move quickly, or if your vision isnt clear, or you cant count on your feet to get you anywhere…. none of that matters as much as your back.  Have a backbone that allows you to stand up for yourself.  I’m not talking pride.  I’m talking not ego. i’m talking about the subtle confidence of someone who refuses to let the world trample on them, shame them, or talk down to them.  The world has forces that will crush you.  (see #3 with broken family…). Keep you backbone protected and never ever ever ever ignore it.  It’s your pillar.  It’s the thing that keeps you standing when the world wants to beat you down. 

6. Get a good purse. I still dont have one and i’m almost 31.  I’ve been looking for ‘the right purse’ on sale for the past 11 years.  Splurge on yourself- you’re a grown ass woman so act like it.  (I’ll be getting myself a new worthy not on sale purse in the next 2 weeks….probably).

7.  Get honest.  Be honest.  Have the hard conversations with love.  Speak for yourself and seek to understand.  Directness and honesty will get you places- it will bring clarity, it will give you confidence, it will bring you respect, and it will free you. 

8.  Intensity is okay but learn to play.  I’ll need to get back to you on this one entirely.

9.  Decide not to be overwhelmed.  Just decide.  Life is overwhelming and it has the ability to hold your head underwater if you let it.  But just decide to be bigger and stronger than the things that life throws at you.  Oh and if you decide this, you should also decide to let God help you with this one.  I’m not exactly sure how that plays out for each person but if you get strong on your own, it wont work… see #2 (you might develop weird ailments from doing things on your own all of the time).

Eldred Gray

My high school self spent summers working at the family company that my dad took over and eventually shut down to a small (tiny) consulting business.  The Eldred Company was created by my great grandfather to design and create efficient machines for the glass industry.  Our family called it ‘the shop’.  And at the shop they would create machines that added the perfectly placed paint on Pyrex measuring cups. They would add the bead of glass around the rim of cups so that you didn’t go all Julia Child with a ‘mere flesh wound’ cut with every sip.

I guess that’s cool. I was young and was the shop’s 1 (only) woman, bathroom cleaner, grass cutter, tree trimmer, phone answerer, metal scrap sweeper, part painter, catch all.  
At the time, I felt bored.  I dreaded waking up early and driving to work with my dad and then staying late.  I remember the hours when my work was done but my dad’s wasn’t.  I passed the time lazily spinning in the dirt ridden office swivel chair watching my evenings slip by in a 50s style shop on the South side of Columbus. 
It turns out that a high school girl can learn a lot from a machine shop on the South side.  Even if she doesn’t realize it at the time. 
1.  Doughnuts do make things better.  Emotional eating, high cholesterol, sugar fix, no nutritional value aside doughnuts actually deliver a swift morale boost.  On Fridays we would stop at Jolly Pirate Doughnuts on the way to work and order up a dozen(ish) sweet round sprinkle dough balls of goodness.    People love getting treats- even (especially) adult people. 
2. Learn from people around you.  Ez was the most punctual efficient gentleman I have ever met and I was assigned to be his assistant working on parts.  He started the company with my great grandfather and closed it with my dad.  He said ‘slick ’em’ instead of oil and pronounced  aluminum like al-ja-min… just like how it’s spelled. Ez taught me about taking the job seriously and a few things about the machines.  Although,  I wish I would have learned more from Ez- but my summer brain didn’t retain all that much.  
3.  Efficiency matters (to me).  I discovered that I wanted to do the job not fill the time.  If I could find a quicker way to do the job just as well, I wanted to do it that way.  I wanted to work hard, manage my own time, and prioritize my own projects.  It was the first sign that I wanted my own sandbox to play within.  I’m best when someone tells me the boundaries and the goals and then steps back and let’s me figure it out.

4. They still make Lava soap.  While at the shop, my role was to paint each part “Eldred Gray” before it was put to work at it’s final destination on the machine.  There were always parts to paint.  My skincare routine consisted of scrubbing with Lava soap and rinsing with Mineral Spirits. I think both products have age defying properties 🙂

5.  Marketing 101: Eldred Gray paint builds a brand.  Once a company discovers its branding icons, they become staples.  The kind of thing that you don’t ever deviate from.  The kind of thing that you put on every single piece of your product.  It stands for something.  Eldred Gray paint color was our thing at the shop- every single part that went into the whole was painted Eldred Gray.  Period.

6.  Find your people.  During the difficult years at the shop when it began it’s decline, my dad worked really long hours.  I saw him work though difficult leadership issues.  He took over the company from his father, who still maintained his office but with dementia starting to set in his sole responsibility soon became checking the mail.  My dad had one person to work through company dynamics with- Rolland.  Rolland was smart and an advocate for him.  He needed that.  For my dad, Rolland was his ‘people’.  Wherever I am in life, I’ve always sought out my people.  


More on what I learned at Eldred later…. this blog post is long enough.