Heart Break

As I waited for my morning coffee order to be made on Thursday morning October 11th, my cell indicated I'd missed a call. I was kinda scattered, as I was getting ready for a trip to a state I haven't been to, to meet a bunch of folks face to face that I don't know, and had made reservations in two separate places that I'd never been to and had NO recommendations on. Some people, like my Dad, live dangerously. Me? I travel dangerously.

Scott had called to catch up, which we haven't really done since our half marathon. Since that time, I've received additional donations (which were VERY much a surprise), and received Todd's GREAT "remission" news. We had lots to catch up ON, but neither of us had time to actually do so. He was on his way to a client lunch and I was on my way to this trip so ….

I walked outside my office building to hail a cab. Ordinarily I'd walk across the street and get one from the hotel located there, but I wasn't in the mood and I had the time to wait. Within moments, two cabs pulled up, and the second one honked as tho' to tell me that while he wasn't first, he believed he deserved the fare more. I disagreed, and *my* cab driver thanked me for it.

In the city, you either get a chatty cab driver talking to you, or talking on his cell, or not chatty at all. My cabbie wanted to talk to me and, as I'm a morning person, I was fine with this. We spent the entire ride discussing karma. He'd worked hard to earn his cab, and while he knows it's not a glamorous job, it's interesting and it was his goal. He'd educated himself in his home town/country, and came here to the city with a goal of owning his own business and he'd succeeded, without sacrificing his morals or values. No matter what his line of business is, you have to respect that. I know I did. He noticed my fingernail (which stands out, as it's the only color on my hands, since I don't wear polish) and I told him how I'd earned it working in Biloxi.

I'm not for a moment suggesting that my Biloxi work is even REMOTLY equal to supporting yourself and achieving your goals, but I'm getting there, bit by bit. There are, for sure, easier ways (I *could* just write a check to a charity, for instance) but this is my way. That's how my folks raised my sister and I. I'm getting it done – my way, but I *am* getting it done. I know my mom is proud of my work there, as she reads my journals when I return. I hope my father is proud, too.

As we pulled up to the curb at the airport, the cabbie turned off the meter and deducted $10 off the total. I left the extra money in the back seat, with the hopes that karma would continue. If he didn't find it, his next fare would, which maybe is what was supposed to happen. I tipped him double what I should have, which he didn't want to accept, but finally did. And he kissed my hand as I exited the cab, and told me to have a blessed trip. That's actually what he said. It was pretty incredible.

Flash forward ...

As I'm writing this, I'm sitting at O'Hare waiting for my flight to go home. I received the news of my father's heart attack at 11amCT and I immediately called my sister and my mother. We are scared. We are separated, the three of us, at a time when we … when I … would really rather that not be the case. I have never felt more helpless. I have never felt more guilty. I have never felt more alone.

I gotta admit – I'm suddenly not feeling that much in the way of blessed.

A note from Todd

I try to be mindful in NOT talking about other people. I don't always succeed, but I *do* make the attempt. This entry will be different. This is ALL ABOUT talking about someone else.

As I've already written, on Saturday Sept 16th, I participated in a fund-raising half-marathon in an effort to support a coworker and friend of mine who was diagnosed with cancer earlier this year. Todd is married and lives in another state. I worked directly with him and adopted him into the inner circle of "my guys" that I knew I could hang out with and not have to worry about offending, etc. Todd is a supremely decent guy – honest and true to his word, kind-hearted and soft-spoken with a terrific sense of humor. I mention this only because he *IS* a sales guy, but he doesn't fit the typical sales-guy mold, which is why I knew we could be friends. (That's true for every one of "my guys" – not a typical one in the bunch.)

Todd sent out this email yesterday.

"I would like to express my extreme gratitude for the support that each of you have provided to me and my family over the past 8 months. Throughout the process, I was always comfortable that my company and my friends had my back covered while I worked through the details of treatment.
I am happy to announce that last Friday I took a host of tests and just received word that my cancer is in remission. (That is as close as you can get to being cured.)
Please do not respond. I just wanted to say thanks …. I'm back!"

Of course, I immediately called him and I said something elegant and touching like "F**K yes!" We talked for a few minutes, and I followed it up with an email to him reminding him that I don't ever want to have to walk another mile to support his sorry behind. He gave me his word that me he'd do his best.

As I mentioned above, I believe that Todd is a guy who stays true to his word. I pray that I'm right.

Not "Jewels" ... Jus’ "Jules"

On Sunday, I treated myself to some long-overdue shoe shopping. As I've been reminded, I have VERY expensive tastes in shoes, but as I've reminded back, I buy said shoes VERY infrequently so it all works out. Same for my taste in sunglasses – if I spend $450 on a pair of sunglasses, but use them for 3 years, that works out to 41 cents a day to have good sunglasses … versus say spending $25 on a pair and losing them every 4 months.

Shoe and Sunglasses Math – as brought to you by yours truly.

So I went to the very expensive, high-end mall (next to the very expensive, high-end University) and handed over Jake's keys to the mall valet. (I TOLD you this was a high-end mall. I'm not kidding.) A quick aside – I was wearing my hair in a pony tail, some Levis and a tee-shirt that said "Sheetrock Happens. New Orleans, LA". I did, however, make sure to wear a pair of low heels with socks, so as to try on what would hopefully be my new shoes.

I arrived to the Ladies Premium Designer Shoe department and walked to the area where "my" shoes would be found. I found what I wanted, I know my size for that designer, and so I'm holding a shoe in my hand and looking around for someone to assist, right? This individual in a three-piece suit and name tag was standing very close with seemingly nothing to do, so I approached him and asked if he could help me. He strolled away, without giving me so much as a second-glance.

Interesting – but not a unique experience. I refuse to "dress my part", as some do. I don't wear makeup unless the occasion calls for it. I don't have a manicurist and, currently, am sporting a blackened nail from work I've done in Biloxi, MS. PROUDLY sporting, I should add. I earned that baby. I have some jewelry that I wear regularly but you wouldn't recognize it right away as being from Tiffany's. The only diamond that is always with me is in the middle of my gold cross, which I purchased from Ireland. Even Jake, whom I adore, isn't fancy really. In short – I do not wear my so-called "worth" on my sleeve. I would far rather be judged by my heart than my pocketbook.

Anyway, I found another associate who was also busy, but not too busy to assist. She came from the back empty-handed, telling me that she'd order what I was looking for if I'd write down some info for her, which I did. When she came back to review what I'd written, I asked her if the guy that ignored me was a manager. She told me he wasn't, so after I ordered a second pair of shoes, I approached him again.

"Excuse me – can I have a moment of your time please?" I asked. "Of course", he said. "What can I help you with?" "Oh – not a thing, actually. That ship has sailed," I replied. "I just wanted to let you know that I just gave one of your co-workers my business in the amount of more than $1,100 in cash because you decided to not hear me when I first asked for help just a few moments ago. Perhaps next time you'll be more observant or, possibly, less judgmental." Then me and my jeans, tee shirt, and ponytail strolled away.

Now is it possible that this person literally didn't hear me? Of course it is. However the look on his face told me otherwise.

I hope that *I* remember what I tried to teach this clown. It's easy – hell, it's in our NATURE – to have snap judgments on other human beings. I hope that I continue to be judged incorrectly as a reminder not to do so myself.