The Last Dance

 

Tonight, Mike Krzyzewski coached his last regular season game as the Duke Men's Basketball.

He's coached for 42 years at the same place, has the most wins in college basketball and he turned 75 in February. Damn!

I’ve loved watching him coach.

I’ve loved watching his teams play. 

Well done, Coach. Well done.

Just Tell Them

Last month, I attended a meeting with a fairly large audience. One of the speakers shared information that was factual and accurate and expressed what many others in that meeting were probably thinking. Another attendee asked a question of that speaker and it came off snarky? Condescending? After considering it for sometime, I think the person who asked the question was really trying to be supportive of the speaker and it just came out wrong. 

This whole exchange has resurfaced a handful of times since that meeting and every one I talk to completely supports what was said. It occurred to me today that I hadn't told the person who made the statement that there were lots of people who agreed and supported what he said. 

So today, I sent a note that went something like this ...

..... I can't think of 1 conversation with a staff member where that has come up and it has been anything but positive around what you said. So many of us can relate (sort of) to the situation you described.

It occurred to me that maybe I should share with you - the one brave enough or maybe sleep deprived enough - to speak his truth. So here I am, sending you a note --- so you know that there's a decent contingent of people on your side.

Hang in there,


A few hours later I got a response, here's part of it

"I am about to walk into a committee meeting where we do the hardest part of our work - ...... And your email literally brought tears to my eyes."

Please know how appreciative I am of you, this email, and your incredible positivity you bring every day."


I'll be honest, I expected a reply.  What I didn't expect was how something that took just a few minutes for me to write had such a profound impact on someone and how I was moved to send it on a day, at a time where he needed to hear it. 

It didn't cost a cent, but its worth immeasurable. If you're wondering if you should say it, wondering if it matters or makes a difference .... just tell them.

We are So Lucky

Last night our accountant sent me a text to let me know our returns were completed. She would let me know when she was leaving the office and would drop them by if it wasn't too late. 

Oh, and we owed some .... 

I immediately started down that road, the one where you have all "those" thoughts"

"Just when we start to get ahead"

"Oh my gosh, where are we going to get all that money???"

"Why do we work so hard???" 

Then I caught myself. The last 2 years have been difficult for so many people. They have lost jobs, property, loved ones. 

Paul and I never stopped working our regular workload since March 2020. In fact, from March - July 2020 we would have been happy for Paul to have his hours cut a bit. He was leaving the house at 8am and getting home between 10-10:30 each night. 

We have from now until April 18 to pinch some pennies here and there to come up with the money we need that we hadn't planned on spending right now. 

We'll re-evaluate our deductions and up the additional amount withheld to try to close the gap some. 

This, too, shall pass. We are so lucky to have such abundant lives. 

#WakeUp100

Ash Wednesday Tradition

Today is Ash Wednesday and I cooked hot dogs for dinner. 

I know, you are confused -- you aren't supposed to eat meat on Ash Wednesday. 

There's a backstory, you can read it the whole thing in this post from 2011. 

The short version is Paul's Catholic, gives up meat on Ash Wednesday and Fridays during Lent. I'm Protestant and that isn't our practice. When Paul and I were dating he bowled on Wednesday nights. He'd go right from work and I would meet him there. His Dad, Joe, would come watch, faithfully, every week. During the second game, I'd go order us dinner.

That night Paul probably had a fish sandwich, but I, I ordered my usual - "the split." That was a hot dog and french fries.

Joe was obviously bothered by the fact that I was enjoying that hot dog. Months later, when we were telling Paul's mom about that night she said "He wasn't mad that you were eating it, he was mad that he COULDN'T" 

We laughed so hard. 

Then it just sort of became a thing - mostly after he passed. When the kids were little, I would load them up and take them to the snack bar at the bowling alley and we'd order hot dogs and french fries. I'd tell them about that night and other funny stories about him. They never knew him, he died in December of 2005 and Brooke arrived in September of 2006. 

Tonight, I had a meeting at 7 and Kristen stayed after school. There wasn't time to go out, but there was time to have hot dogs and remember Grandpa Joe. 

So tonight is Ash Wednesday and we had hot dogs for dinner and I am smiling for all the happy times I shared with my father in law. 

For the record, Paul had cheese pizza.

Joe Romanski throwing out the first pitch

Are You Kidding Me?

 

Many of you know that Paul has worked for UPS as a driver for over 30 years. He's had a handful of routes in different towns. He's seen some interesting things over the years. 

He's seen deer wandering through yards. He's helped turtles across the road even though some were less than grateful. 

He's delivered to houses with cats, dogs - friendly and unfriendly, and there was the house with the potbellied pig -- that lived inside the house. 

About 3 years ago, Paul took a route in Northeastern CT, almost to the Massachusetts border. The route is rural and full of farms. We enjoyed many weekend rides to Woodstock and back during 2020 when there was nowhere else to go. 

It isn't unusual to get a text from him during the day. Sometimes it is of a sign that caught his eye, sometimes it is a garden, fire pit, or some other landscape feature that he might consider adding to Romanskiville. 

Today, this was the picture I received. Paul met him a few months ago and has named him "Roy" -- that's a story for another post. Roy is super friendly, very intrigued by the big brown truck, and while he has no problem jumping up in it, does seem to be terrified to jump out. Paul regularly has to scoop him up and set him back on the ground. 

Here's Roy! 

#WakeUp100

The Next 100 Days

 

I posted on Friday for the first time in almost a month. I sort of "declared" that I was going to get serious about my writing, about being "a writer."

The roadblock for me has never been a lack of a material. It has been a combination of fear and lack of consistency. 

Maybe it is because I'm quickly approaching my 50th birthday? Maybe it is because I was recently reminded - again - that life is short and that there are absolutely no guarantees? Maybe it is because I have finally (pretty much) accepted that not everyone is going to like me? That what I say will not resonate with some people? Maybe I figured out that this is important to ME and if others are touched, too, that is icing on the cake. 

The second stumbling block is the consistency, building the habit of writing regularly. Last summer, I was introduced to Lindsay Teague Moreno. She did 2 keynotes at a virtual business conference that I attended. I was instantly drawn to her down to earth, tell it like it is personality. I read, well she read, her book Boss Up to me on Audible. Then she published Wake Up, honestly, I haven't finished it yet. 

In tandem with the book, Lindsay champions the #Wakeup100 challenge. The Reader's Digest version is that you pick 1 area of your life, and 1 thing you are going to focus on for 100 days -- IN A ROW. Walk for 10 min everyday, stop drinking, journal, or stop eating takeout. You don't pick a bunch of things -- you pick ONE. 

"Next, choose one activity that if done daily could help you reach your version of a good life. Then I want you to mentally go inside and commit to 100 days in a row. Decide you won't give up until you reach 100, at which point you can decide it had a positive or negative impact on your life, but this time you'll have actual, factual data behind your choices."

So little known fact about me -- I am a list maker and a box checker. I also follow directions very well. I also believe that stuff happens for a reason. Late last week, I'm challenged by a coach to "make writing a priority" and "start building that muscle" and then like the NEXT day, I listen to Lindsay's story about this 100 day practice. Hmmm...

The next #WakeUp100 challenge starts on March 1, tomorrow. I'm committing to writing and sharing that work for 100 days straight. That's the plan -- to write EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.  

I'm not focusing on word count, I'm not going to edit for hours, I'm not limiting topics, I am just going to write - for 100 freaking days. EEK!

Interested? Join the #WakeUp100 challenge  

I hope you'll pop in and read my posts. 

I hope you'll hold me accountable if I drop the ball. 

I hope that something I write over the next 100 days will speak to you, but if it doesn't that's ok too. 

See you tomorrow -- on Day 1

She Writes

In early January, I wrote a really personal piece, a tribute to someone I loved very much. When I was finished, I sent an email to a handful of people that I wanted to share it with. 

It read like this .... 

Hi Everyone, 

I'm not a writer, but I pretend to be sometimes. I wrote this earlier tonight and wanted to share it with all of you.

 

I included my essay and hit send. 

I kept thinking about what I had written because his loss was still so raw.  

The next morning, I saw the printed copy on my desk. 

I immediately thought to myself "Why did you start that email saying you aren't a writer?" 

In a way it made the piece of writing that was really important to me and that I was really proud of seem insignificant. 

"You are a writer. You like to write and some of your stuff is really good."

People tell me they love to read my blog. 

People tell me that I have a way with words. 

People tell me that I should write a book. 

People notice when long periods of time elapse between posts.

People think of me as a writer. 

Maybe it is time for me to rewrite the story where I tell myself I'm not. Maybe it's time to rewrite the story where I say that my work isn't good enough, that writing is a hobby and isn't important or valuable. 

Maybe it's time to own the title "Writer" 

Here we go ......