I remember the carefree times as a kid. The only worry in the world was either homework or if some girl or guy liked you. For some of us that grew up in the Vietnam War era, the added worry was whether your Mom, Dad, Brother, Sister, Uncle, etc. was going to come home. For me, it was my Dad.
I remember the reel-to-reel tapes that brought his voice home to us. His letters (which I still have) that mostly told us to be good girls (there were only 3 of the 5 of us then) for Mom. I don't remember some of the details. Like when he came home for one or two weeks on an "R&R" (rest and recuperation). But I remember one time in particular when he was leaving. I have a photo, but it's so clear in my head. I look at that photo now and I see things I didn't see as a kid; worry, tiredness...strength. That was my Mom too. Had I taken a photo of her at that same moment, I probably would see the same things.
As I grew older, there seemed to be more to worry about. And the way I saw my parents changed too. I remember the day I realized just how smart my Dad was. He had retired from the Army after 23 years and was teaching Basic and Cobol computer languages at New Hampshire College (now it's Southern New Hampshire University). I was attending Plymouth State College (now a university - PSU) and was going to be taking a computer class that next spring semester. My Dad suggested that I sit in on his classes and learn a bit before I do to get me ahead of the game. But this isn't where I realized his intelligence...it is, however, where I realized that the Dad that was so strict actually had a sense of humor...wow...
After the class one day, we went to his office to before going to get some lunch and a young student came to his door and asked for help. She said she needed to a program for something (I don't remember what) but didn't know how or where to start it. So in about five minutes, my Dad had written a basic start of a program simple enough for her to understand but complex enough to what she needed. She left happy and I sat there dumbfounded. Who was this man, and where was my Dad?
A few years earlier, Grandpop (Dad's Dad) passed away. I didn't really know him. What I remember of him was that he was always cleaning the pool, smoking cigars, down at the bar he owned, or at the Masonic lodge. It was after he died that I learned the impact he had in others' lives. He was a Merchant Marine and designed a valve that would stop the back flow of oil from spilling when the hose from the USNS tanker to the USS ships was disconnected. Wow...pretty cool. He would bring people into his home, give them food, shelter, clothing, money, whatever they needed. There was standing room only at his funeral. I wish I knew him and was able to capture more stories from him before he died.
I've wished that with my one of my four sisters too. I can remember the times, though, when I realized how smart each of my sisters were in their own right. All of them are mothers and they are wonderful at that. It was the moment when I realized they were "Rock Stars" at what they did.
Karen, three years my senior, was a great business mind. She was managing a women's clothing store that was really three stores side-by-side. I watched her interact with her employees and her customers. She had been recognized for having the best sales time-after-time. Even now as she's built her insurance business up. Rock Star!
Gretchen is nine years my junior. I remember when she was born. I was there when her oldest child, Jake, was born. For her, it was when she got her new job after being laid off for seven or nine months. It was something about her - confidence maybe - that just said, "this woman knows what she's doing and knows that she knows."Definitely a Rock Star.
Ginger is the youngest of us (11 years younger than me). She has been working for and/or managing the bookstores at Salem State College for years and now is a Regional Manager for the University of Massachusetts. Her moment for me was when she gave our nephew (Karen's son, Steve) a job for the second time. Her influence on him and her belief in him showed me how she was with her other employees. I've never been to her bookstores. I don't need to. Rock Star all the way.
I left my "twin" for last. She's not really my twin, but we looked so much alike that many thought we were. Lisa, is a year and a half older than I. She passed away almost three years ago. There's actually two times that I saw the Rock Star in her. The first was when she came to DC for a conference with some of her office people. We met up and had dinner. How she interacted with them - they hung on her every word. She loved and respected them and they her. The second time was at her wake and her funeral. She had over 1000 people at her wake to pay their respects. The great percentage were because of who she was to them. For thirteen years she worked in the financial aid office of SNHU and was the Director of Financial Aid at Granite State College for a year before she passed away. At her passing was when people seemed to come out of the woodwork to tell of what she did for them. I was stunned. I had not known all she had done.
Karen talked about "the dash". It's the hyphen between the year of birth and the year of death. It's so small on a tombstone...but for my Grandfather and my sister, that little line was magnanimous. They were Rock Stars. How could I not know this about them?
I don't want to be remiss and not mention my Mom cause she's been a Rock Star herself...and a "rock" for all of us. Not to say that my sister's passing didn't shake that rock but it didn't come loose from the foundation.
So looking at it, my Dad was a chip off my grandfather's block and we're all chips off our Dad's block. Well, at least I hope I am. It took me many years before I knew what I wanted to do when I grew up...which is probably why I didn't grow up for many years...but I digress...But it wasn't until Lisa's death that I knew what I was going to do with my PhD. I wanted it originally so I could teach at the university level. Know it's more than that. Lisa gave of herself and would not stop until she had an answer for someone or a way to help them. In that light, I am going to find out why we are still in the dark ages in diagnosing and treating blood clots. There's more to it, but that's for another blog.
I want to be a Rock Star too. I'll retire from the Army Reserves after 30 years at the same rank as my Dad and about the same time period I will be getting my PhD. Not to be a Rock Star but to make a difference in someone's life. I wonder if I pick up all the chips from off the blocks how full the bag will be.
...and a PhD means...that I'm going be that "Rock Star" someday cause I'm already a "chip off the ol' block"...
