What I am Particularly Thankful For

There is a Russian joke which goes like this: A poor guy prays to God and asks to help him for he is living with a wife and 5 kids, and a paralyzed Mother-in-law in a 1-room tiny house. God tells him to get a goat. The guy is surprised, but doesn't dare to ignore the divine advice. He gets a goat, and a year later, asks God again for deliverance of his impossible circumstances: he lives with his wife, 5 kids, a paralyzed Mother-in-law and a goat in a tiny 1-room house. God tells him to sell the goat. The guy does it, and the next day praises the Lord: "Thank you, God! Life is great!"

As we celebrated Thanksgiving, I am sure we all gave thanks for still being around, for friends, family, good health, good fortunes, a roof over our heads, the food on our tables, etc. For a number of years Thanksgiving has had a special significance for me. Here is my personal Thanksgiving story.

Five years ago on a Thanksgiving Day, members of my extended family numbering 30+ people made a trip to the bottom of the Grand Canyon staying in its only "hotel" (a dorm, really) "Phantom Ranch." The trip was organized 2 years prior to its inception because beds at the "Phantom Ranch" can be booked two years in advance, and are gone within minutes of becoming available for this time of the year. When we were asked whether we wanted to participate in this special family adventure, we enthusiastically agreed for it seemed like a great trip some time in the distant future which might never come. But it did come, and we had to go. Anyway, the trip down (1 vertical mile) took 5 hours. By the time we got to the bottom, I had a pretty bad premonition about what was expecting us on the way out tomorrow.

When we got to the Ranch, it turned out that a dead tourist was evacuated from Colorado River at that particular spot earlier that day - the guy fell over from his raft into the river, and as I soon learned from a documentary book appropriately named "Death in the Canyon," people die not from drowning, but from hypothermia if they are not pulled out of the frigid water within minutes. I was too tired to empathize with the unfortunate soul. All that occupied my mind at that point was that there WAS a way out by a helicopter. I inquired around to see what it would take to get evacuated from the stupid ranch short of dying for it. I was told it cost about $5,000. That seemed like a great deal! Alas, one also had to have a life threatening injury. I briefly considered breaking my arm or a leg, but I was too ashamed to desert and leave my 9-year-old son make his way out of the Canyon.

The next day was pure and undiluted hell. You really do not care in the least about the spectacular views which open up in front of your eyes for the duration of the trip. At some point all I could think about was that if I stop, I won't be able to start going again. It was like doing lunges for 8 hours straight, with a back pack, too.

So-o-o-o... This brings me to the point of the today's post. Every Thanksgiving I am particularly thankful for the fact that I am celebrating this holiday not at the bottom of the Grand Canyon.

On Videotaping and Learning to Drive

I rarely find parent-teacher conferences worth my time. In 20 minutes we cast a cursory glance over my son's grades, ask him a pro forma question of what he would like to change and how, and then leave. Nothing learned, an hour wasted. I do attend them dutifully, though.

Yesterday, we had a conference scheduled. My husband happened to have a day off, so he attended it as well. On the way to school, our son was marvelling at the fact that Dad was coming along and teasing him whether he knew the names of any of his teachers. My husband responded with dignity that he had attended parent-teacher conferences in the past. To be fair, I confirmed that during our son's Middle School years he did attend ONE teacher conference, to which my husband defiantly retorted: "And that is all there was!"

Anyway, we teased Dad some more about it when our son's adviser lauded the fact that the whole family showed up. To which the adviser said: "Well, you are doing better than me!" And he proceeded to share his own story. Years ago, he was in magazine publishing business which kept him travelling away from home for two weeks out of a month. Naturally, that made him miss many of his children's events. Then one day there was a kindergarten graduation ceremony for his son to which he barely made it rushing madly from one of his trips. He got there after it had already started, got a seat in the back row and was very proud of himself for not forgetting to bring a camcorder. He videotaped his son, and his wife was very happy to see after the ceremony that her husband did manage to attend. Feeling like a super Dad, he told his son that they will now go home and watch him on TV. When they started watching the tape, his wife asked with amazement: "Why on earth did you tape ... Manny?" It turned out, he videotaped the wrong kid. His explanation was that from such a distance all blond 6-year-olds look the same. "Were you in a dog house after that?" I asked. "No," he said. "I had to change careers."

And there was another great story which is a good analogy for situations when we feel overwhelmed when starting something new. Our son just started high school this year, and it was not a very happy start. He felt lonely and rushed, overworked and confused. Since he was getting an 'A' average in all of his classes, many of them advanced, the school did not seem to be aware of the problem, and I had to bring it up to their attention about a month ago. Well, this time his adviser shared another personal story on when he first started driving a car. He got his learner's permit, and his Dad told him that he can drive himself to school one day with his Father in the car, of course. The boy was very happy. He felt that he already knew how to drive, and the school was just 2 miles away. Well, in those 2 miles he was completely exhausted. He said he left the car all sweaty feeling like he had worked a long day. He realized that on the road he had to keep track of so many things at once (traffic signs, lights, pedestrians, other drivers, keeping the speed limit, giving a turn signal, etc.) that it was overwhelming. He could not see how he would ever find driving natural and relaxing. Yet it did happen to him in due time, just as it happens to all of us. And especially as women, we can drive, talk on the phone, put make-up on, feed the kids and interrupt their fights all at the same time.

So this was the first time when we left enriched with two thought provoking parables. By the way, my husband then remarked that even though the adviser goofed up with the videotaping, he got a great story which would not have been if not for his silly mistake. I am sure next time when my husband forgets to take the time off to attend our son's teacher-parent conference, he will have some great story to tell.

That is JANE!

We are remodeling the Master Bath. The contractor who came to give me an estimate eyed the artwork we have displayed next to the shower. This reminded me of another occasion when a contractor saw the same images. We have two acrylic sketches hanging in the bathroom - nude studies which my husband painted years ago when he went to a nude painting class. The model's name was Jane. Each week he was coming home with a variety of nude paintings labeled "Jane." He would pile them up in various places around the house, and at some point it started to feel like Jane was a character in our lives. I encountered her naked body everywhere I turned. So I asked him to stop putting her name on the paintings making her just an anonymous nude. Then one day, a contractor came to my house. I had unmarked nude studies drying out on the dining room table. He looked at them with some interest, turned to me and asked me if they were pictures of ME. I hastily explained that that was JANE. Since then I never objected to he name being clearly marked on the paintings.