Solitude and a Family History During the Great Pause

"To live well, we need to remember that whatever we lose, nothing is lost. 
Unless, of course, we lose humanity itself: the helping hand, the companionship of the other."

--Joan Chittister, "The Monastic Way"

Pink blossoms blooming along my street.

It's been a month since our stay-at-home order was issued by Washington State Governor Jay Inslee. Initially I dreaded the idea of remaining 24-7 in my 660 sq. ft condo. I've found ways to escape: walks around the block, short bike sprints to the park and back home, time in the backyard, and getting lost in the beautiful springtime weather Seattle is so lucky to have this year. I miss swimming with my Masters swim group at Seattle U. tho we keep in touch via email and text, egging each other on to stay in shape until we meet again. And while working remotely from home I'm grateful for Zoom and the ability to connect with my co-workers at the University of Washington, in addition to book club buddies and friends throughout the country.

So much has happened in the past month both here in the U.S. and around the globe that it's difficult for me to process all at once. At times it feels surreal, like I'm in a bad sci-fi film. But I try to limit my exposure to "breaking news" before I feel like I'm breaking. So far, I am not breaking, and here's why.

For this acknowledged people-lover, I've had more opportunity to go inward the last month. It hasn't been a pretty sight at times. I've faced some anger, petty jealousy, resentment, but also discovered patience, kindness, and resolve. I grew up with older parents now both deceased. My mother, born in 1919, and my father, born in 1913, survived their own challenges:  the Depression, World War II, and much more. And I have survived the AIDS crisis, 9/11, and the fiscal crisis of 10 years ago.

Ruth, my mother, 

16 years old, July 1935.

But more than ever I think back to my resilient Mom, who in 1941 at the age of 21 was infected with tuberculosis. She worked then as a secretary in an office where, unbeknownst to anyone, the cleaning woman was sick but continued coming to work. Tiny aerosol droplets circulating through the office's ventilation system likely led to my mother testing positive for TB and being quarantined in a sanatorium outside the city limits of Cleveland, Ohio, where she grew up.

 During my childhood, my mother shared stories about this time. About my grandmother Mayme weeping on the backporch when my mother was taken away. The TB patients were bundled up on sunny, crisp days and placed on chaise lounges on fresh-air patios. Sunlight and crisp air were thought to be antidotes to the infection. Mom's right lung was collapsed as another method of retarding the disease. It was a brutal procedure that left a permanent scar on her back and one healthy lung to breathe with.

And yet the love that came from that time was undeniable. My grandfather John, whom I never met, and Mom's cousin Rhea, who became a beloved figure to me, visited her everyday on their lunch hours. My mother never forgot their dedication to her. 

Mom persevered and returned home 28 months later, fully recovered. She was a lifelong tennis player, ice-skater, and had a better arm for baseball and football than I ever did, but practiced with me all the time and shared with me her love of sporting activities and the outdoors.

And of course she went on to marry my father and have me. I am forever grateful for the life she lived and gave to me.

The Garden Court where I live.

Now my parents have both been gone for nearly 20 years. I think often of them, especially during this perilous time in which we all find ourselves living. I think of my father heading off to WWII at the age of 31 to serve with the Army's Armored Signal Co. of the 20th Armored Division. He was a Morse Code operator, participated in the Central Europe campaign helping Holocaust survivors at the newly liberated Dachau concentration camp at the end of the war, a heroic action I knew little about until a Cleveland Plain Dealer writer uncovered it in his obituary in 2000. I think of Mom facing down TB and living with the fear she may never recover. 

All of this while sitting in my easy chair peering through the window into my fairytale courtyard where each day I find incredible solace. I am blessed with a home, an income for now, a job that allows me to work remotely, a wonderful community of neighbors who watch out for each other, and a spring that I cannot recall ever being so warm, sunny and beautiful.

Swimming in Lake Washington, 

April 24, 2020.

And I'm healthy, active and hopeful. I can complain about gaining 6 pounds and my insurgent love handles, which I detest and hope to rid myself of very soon. But does it really matter? I'm grateful for the company of a close friend that vowed we'd have each other's backs through the course of this crisis. We are lifting weights in the backyard, taking walks to the park and sharing dinners. And last week we put on our thermal wet suits and began swimming in 52 degree Lake Washington. Thanks to the booties, gloves and neoprene caps, it was survivable and with the warm sun on our backs, even pleasant.

I'm resilient, and I look back to my parents and their survival for inspiration. Staying at home might get on my nerves, but it's serving a larger purpose. And yes, I hope we can get back to a new normal very soon.

Wishing you and yours safety and warmth during this time.

Love,

Jack

New Year's Greetings and a Look Back on 2019!

January 1, 2020

“The air was soft, the stars so fine, the promise of every cobbled alley so great, that I thought I was in a dream.” --Jack Kerouac, "On the Road"

Dear Friends & Family,

As we approach the end of a decade and look toward 2020, I’m grateful for the people who have loved and encouraged me throughout my life. As we mature, we realize we didn’t get here on our own. So I reflect on the sacrifice of my parents Frank & Ruth, the unending encouragement of my godparents Betty & Herb, the never-ending love of my great aunt Loretta and her daughter Rhea, my grandmothers Mayme & Mary, my grad school mentor Hubert, and many, many others. Many, if not all, these people are gone—on the other side of the divide, and I hope to see them someday, or at least collide with their souls😊

Stephen & I knocking one down in Budapest, June 2019.

So I’ll keep my letter brief. I feel like I have received a host of blessings in 2019. I had the opportunity to travel for 3 weeks to Berlin, Prague & Budapest in the spring with my running friend Stephen. He kept me on my toes whether riding bikes in Berlin or climbing the hills on the Buda side of Budapest, where we took full advantage of the popular, communal baths that the whole city soaks in. We also had the pleasure of staying & touring with my friend Vera in Prague where we celebrated another birthday of mine! Where do the years go?

In May I travelled to New York to attend the law school graduation of my cousin Kevin. His brother & sisters, nieces & nephews, his wife Jane, friends from near and far came to spread our love and support. We had a family dinner at a favorite old Italian restaurant in the East Village where the Kennedys (JFK & Bobby, et al) used to hang out. Some of us toured Brooklyn, others attended the Broadway musical “The Prom.” It was glorious to be there together!

Celebrating Cousin Kevin's graduation
from law school with family in NYC,  May 2019

After a 6-month temporary position at U.W. Medicine ended this spring, I was offered a permanent staff position as Administrative Assistant in the Department of Psychiatry in a unit called the Center for the Study of Health & Risk Behavior. Our scientific staff focuses their research on binge drinking among fraternities, substance use among young people, PTSD and sexual assault, to name a few. The staff has embraced me, and I feel like my work here is very relevant, onboarding new staff, overseeing the website and social media, and coordinating a variety of volunteer committees established after our staff retreat this fall. Plus my schedule is flexible so if I have a commercial audition I can arrange my work time to accommodate any acting gigs during the day.

Speaking of acting, I continued to move forward with my goals to learn and grow as an actor. In March I was cast as a loony doctor in “The Salem Witch Orgasms,” winner of the Battle of the Bards playwriting contest and a world premiere production exploring female empowerment & sexuality. In October I performed in a UW School of Drama production called “Ada and the Engine,” about real-life inventor Charles Babbage and his stormy, heart-breaking relationship with mathematician Ada Lovelace. The story and the character inspired me to stretch my chops, and build more confidence, and I feel better prepared to take on major roles thanks to this one. 

Dr. Giles in "The Salem Witch
Orgasms," world premiere play,
March 2019.

Finally, in November I joined my friend Jenny for a whirlwind trip to China. When we signed up earlier in the year, I had no idea where I’d be, but work gave me their blessing. We headed off to Beijing then Shanghai and surrounding areas. This booming country is crowded with people and cars. We climbed a portion of the Great Wall, meandered through the Forbidden City, and sailed on a moonlit cruise along the Bund in Shanghai. 8 days for $299 plus taxes, gratuities & the cost of a Visa. I have a greater awareness of and appreciation for Asian culture and influences having taken this trip!

Jenny & me in Beijing under a ginkgo tree,
Olympic Village, November 2019

Here’s hoping you are sitting warm in front of a twinkling Christmas tree, a glowing menorah, or a crackling fire while reading this letter. Merry Everything, as my neighbor Yvonne called out to me the other morning!

Season’s Greetings and Love,

Jack

With Love from Seattle: Holiday Greetings 2018

My cherished professor Hubert Locke passed away this year. He's
pictured here at my 50th birthday party surrounded by adoring
students, grad school friends Chris, Ellen & Suzanne, June 2013

My pal Moey and me in front of miniature tree
at home, Seattle, December 22, 2018

"Imagination is the rearrangement of life as we know it now. It is not about the magical or fantastic. As Pablo Picasso writes, "Everything you can imagine is real." Get it? Real."                          
                            
                                                                                     --Joan Chittister, The Monastic Way

December 20, 2018

Season’s Greetings from the Great Northwest!

Walking to work this morning, feelings of gratitude washed over me. It was a typical December day in Seattle, grey with a light drizzle, and as I crested the hill looking west toward the Space Needle and downtown Seattle memories of arriving here 32 years ago drifted in & out of my mind. While there’s countless more high rises dotting the skyline, there’s still a calm about walking the Seattle sidewalks heading downhill toward this booming metropolis.

The past two years my life has changed in numerous ways. In January 2017 after I parted ways with my church job at St. Joseph Parish, I decided to take a chance on something I’d dreamed about but never had the faith or confidence to pursue. I was enrolled in acting classes at Freehold Theatre, an actor’s training studio. When I told them I lost my job they were willing to hire me as a work study student. 

Pure Joy: Meisner Graduating Class, June 12, 2018

I continued there, through 2017 and into 2018, enrolling in a 9 month Meisner technique class, a method where there is a greater focus on the other actor as opposed to one's internal thoughts or feelings associated with the character.  Last June I completed that class, one of my proud accomplishments the past year. My classmates and I continue to meet to practice, prep for auditions, and encourage one another. While in the Meisner program I found work as a concierge at the Westin Hotel in downtown Seattle and worked part time while going to school, auditioning for commercial and stage work, and volunteering once a week at a local hospice.

This summer I decided I needed to return to work fulltime. After a 6 month search I was offered a position at University of Washington Medicine as an Admin Assistant in their Compliance Department. It’s only been three weeks, but I feel very much at home here. I like working in a higher education setting. Our office addresses HIPAA/Privacy issues and Conflicts of Interest/Ethics in the medical research area. I manage the schedule, coordinate meetings, and oversee planning for one of the compliance officers, a good humored woman who worked in environmental law before coming to the University.

Summertime Hiking Weekend  Getaway in Canada,
near Whistler, B.C., July 2018

I continue to swim and run with my sporting groups. I’m in the midst of a holiday show called Jingle All the Way with Seattle Men’s Chorus. On December 23^rdI’ll receive my 20 year pin, and I’m tickled at how excited I am. Hard to believe I’ve sung for 20 seasons with this group of talented and caring men. I started in 1998 when both my parents were still alive. The group served as a support during that time of loss in 2000 and 2001.

We Are Family: Grady-Bazur family wedding in
Washington, D.C., June 2018

I experienced other losses this year. My beloved professor Hubert Locke passed away the weekend before my birthday. We kept in touch after my graduation from the U.W. in 1993 up until his death. I spoke with him the week before and shared with him my excitement around my acting studies and opportunities. As I crested the hill I felt this great joy in knowing he’d be so proud of me as I completed this new chapter of my new life and march on to this next one at U.W. I also lost several family members: my cousins Dennis, Rick, and Jim. Those sad happenings were lightened by the family reunion on my father’s side in September in Cleveland. I relished in the laughter and warmth of the Hilovsky clan. And earlier in the summer, found joy on my mother’s side, attending the wedding of cousin John Dylan in Washington, D.C. in June.

Here’s wishing you and yours a blessed and happy season. May 2019 make all your dreams come true!

Love,

Jack

Whale Watching off the coast of the San Juan Islands
with friend Eric Roecks, May 2018

New Year's Greeting 2016

"Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak. 

Courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen."

--Winston Churchill--

As 2016 comes to an end, I'm reflective of all that's happened. We've emerged from the financial crisis of 2008-09 but not everyone has experienced the same level of prosperity or recovery. Many people in our country feel left out, not heard. Many are upset the election of 2016 did not go there way. There's a crisis of confidence in our institutions. The cost of an education is paralyzing for some families. In Seattle, many people struggle to pay the rent due to high housing costs and homelessness feels endemic. Even I the eternal optimist wonders if it's possible to find common ground among different political and religious factions. And yet I recall the beauty of our country is in its diversity and can-do-spirit, where anything is possible. So I vow to re-focus my energy on my community and the improvements I can make here. "One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind," goes the reputed quote from Neal Armstrong when he set foot on the moon.

Eric, Lu-Ann, and Jack
celebrating last New Year's

I rang in last New Year's with good friends Eric and Lu-Ann Roecks and will travel with them in Feb/March 2017 to Reykjavik, Iceland to see the Northern Lights for Eric's milestone birthday. Then we'll continue on to the Netherlands, where I'll reconnect with an old friend I first met in Amsterdam when backpacking through Europe in 1990. Thomas and I have not seen each other for 25 years so it will be a thrill to visit him.

This past year I continued to swim, hike, and enjoy the company of good friends. I traveled to Cleveland for my 30th college reunion at John Carroll in June, then in early August hiked with my outdoing group near Whistler in British Columbia. In September I joined my friend Chip in La Jolla for a long weekend by the beach. I'm so lucky to be able to take these mini-trips and explore new adventures with old and new friends.

In September I began a nine-month retreat based on the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius. SEEL, or Spiritual Exercises in Everyday Life, requires that I take one hour every day for reflection/meditation/prayer and meet with a Spiritual Director twice a month. Once a month the entire group of 40 retreatants meets for a morning workshop. The retreat has enriched my life and given me much food for thought. I feel like I'm growing from the inside out and reevaluating many of my habits and ways of thinking. There's always room for growth in my book so I'm keeping my mind and heart open to spirit however it chooses to manifest in my life.

Hiking Whistler this summer in British Columbia

I wish for you and all my family and friends the same--an open heart, willingness to risk, to grow, explore, surprise ourselves, and most importantly to love. Happy New Year to one and all! May 2017 be a year where we dedicate ourselves to greater peace, joy, and awareness.

With Love,

Jack

Holiday Letter 2015 from Seattle with Love

“No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river 

and he's not the same man.”

--Heraclitus--

Snowshoeing with OutVentures friends, April 2015

December 24, 2015

One thing in life is certain. Change. 2015 brought plenty to me.

• At this time last year, one job ended. A new one began this spring--overseeing communications for my spiritual home, St. Joseph, a Jesuit Parish on Capitol Hill, the neighborhood where I live. 
• Last year a new relationship began. In August, it sadly ended. 
• There was time with friends and family both here in Seattle and in Cleveland, Portland and New York City.  
• I sang with Seattle Mens Chorus, swam in Lake Washington and the Cantabrian Sea (Spain), snowshoed and hiked in the Cascade Mountains. 
• This fall I traveled to Portugal and Spain with my dear friend Jenny and soaked up the rich splendor and history of the Iberian Peninsula. Tracing the Route of Santiago de Compostela from west to east, visiting Guernica and Basque Country, discovering Bilbao, and rediscovering Barcelona and Gaudi's La Sagrada Familia were highlights of my trip.

Impromptu Cleveland visit with cousins Amy, Barb and Tom
Spring 2015

To all my beloved friends and family, I send peace, love, and joy. Thank you for your presence in my life. I love each and every one of you. My hope for 2016 is that we grow closer in our relationships and reach out to others who have less bounty and good fortune....that we put aside our differences and discover our commonalities....that we laugh more and cry when the spirit moves us. And more peace, definitely more peace.

P.S. Since a picture is worth a thousand words, here's a few choice ones to capture this last year. 

family

Reunion with Fischbach/Grady cousins: Kathlene, Jan, Carole
(and Maureen, not pictured), Spring 2015


friendship

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and the Best New Year ever. 

Jack



life is a rainbow

Celebrating friends Brian & Joseph's wedding, August 2015

Cousins Peter & Betsy visit Seattle (l-r, Moi, Larry, Betsy,
Peter, & Kelly Riley), April 2015

St. Joseph Parish Center & Church, my new workplace,
a bike ride from home

soul

Jenny & Moi in the Spanish Pyrenees,
another trip of a lifetime, Nov 2015

stop
smell the roses 

At home at Garden Court, Loving the Tulips, Spring 2015

dance

life is about the people you meet, and the things you create with them

some opportunities 

only come once...

seize them

Season's Greetings from Jack--Holiday 2014

"Tradition is meant to help us enjoy an important part of life without having to make it up all over again every time we do it."

--Joan Chittister from The Monastic Way--

Christmas Eve 2014

Dear Family and Friends,

Greetings from rainy Seattle. No white Christmas this year like 2008 when a glorious snowstorm hit several days before Santa's big adventure. That year I hauled in the newly-purchased tree with help from my neighbor and friend Val. The next day I hosted a caroling gathering at my home as the white stuff fell non-stop the entire afternoon and into the evening transforming my courtyard into a Winter Wonderland.  Meggie, my beloved black and tan cock-a-poo, was still alive, adorned in a red plaid bow. Six dear friends--Tom, Jer, Ray, Val, and Lynelle--gathered round the piano to sing, and we cut out paper snowflakes to hang on the tree. One of my favorite Christmas memories--now six years past.

With good friend Kevin off the
 coast of Roatan, a snorkeling paradise, January 2014.

2014 brought more blessings than I could have ever imagined. Last Christmas Day I flew to Florida with my friend Kevin to meet cousins on my father's side for a New Years' cruise in the Eastern Caribbean. We snorkeled in the famous emerald waters off the coast of Roatan, the largest of Honduras' Bay Islands. We sailed on to Belize for a zipline adventure followed  by adventures with the dolphins in Costa del Maya, Mexico. Plenty of sunshine and family time, a wonderful way to usher in a New Year.

On the heels of that trip I resolved to return to one of my life loves: the theatre. I struck gold twice, first in January when I was cast in Checkoff in the Sun, an ensemble production in the 47-seat Eclectic, a black box theatre, on Capitol Hill where I live. I learned a lot about the playground of performance from my nine fellow co-stars while playing the dying heroine Victoria's husband Harvey, a middle-aged hippie computer geek. 

The Spamalot Family Tree. I'm gracing the top with horns!

In late July I auditioned again at Bainbridge Performing Arts, a community theatre a one half-hour ferry ride from downtown Seattle. This time I was cast in the light-hearted, ferociously-funny musical, Spamalot, based on the 1975 film Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

I've never experienced such physical demands on my body as I learned 5 different production numbers and spent the entire fall rehearsing for the show. One of a cast of 18, I held my own singing, dancing, and  even parading around on stilts playing the Knight Who Says Ni. It was a grand time, and when it ended on Dec 21, I was grateful to have done the show and to be finished. I made some fine friendships in both productions and am looking forward to taking a rest during the first part of 2015. 

Scaling the heights of The Enchantments
July 5, 2014

While theatre dominated my attention this year, I also took time to venture into the great outdoors. Over the 4th of July holiday I joined a half dozen friends from my Outventures Seattle outdooring group to hike and camp for five days in the pristine wilderness area called The Enchantments. We encountered snow-capped mountains, billy goats, ice-crusted streams, and serenity par-excellance. 

My physical endurance was tested while hiking up stone ridges and cliffs with a 33 pound pack on my back carrying only the essentials--food, water, tent, sleeping bag, and minimal clothes. We cooked our meals over a roaring campfire, bathed and swam in cold, crisp mountain waters, and by the end of the adventure I discovered a sense of self-reliance and confidence in the outdoors I hadn't possessed before the trip began. It was a sublime experience.

With family (Andy, Rebecca, Lindsay, and Lin Misencik)
after Lake Erie Open Water Swim at GG9 in
Cleveland, August 2014

In early August another adventure beckoned, this time to my hometown of Cleveland where I registered to participate in the international sports competition Gay Games IX.  Nine other swimmers from my Masters swim group the Seattle Orcas joined me for a week of sporting and cultural events as Cleveland rolled out the red carpet for over 8,000 athletes from far (Russia, Australia, France, and England) and near (Cleveland-Akron). 

During the Games I stayed in my beloved Lakewood with my mother's tennis friend Fay who lives on Clifton, 3 blocks from Lakewood Park, where I lifeguarded as a teenager. I made new friends from South Dakota, California, and other places, in addition to reuniting with old friends from my college and high school days. My family and friends came to watch me compete in an open-water swim in Lake Erie along the beautiful coast of Edgewater Park as the sun rose over Downtown Cleveland and at Busby Natatorium at Cleveland State University. I coined my homecoming visit back to Cleveland my Trip to Bountiful, a rich time full of discoveries and unexpected pleasures. I'd truly come full circle.

Other travels included a trip to San Diego over Labor Day weekend to visit my friend Bret and reconnect with my Seattle swim friend Kathleen. And to Portland to visit dear friend and India travel companion Jenny and reunite with friends Ed and Michelle from our India travels. Jenny and I hope to join them in Portugal in later 2015. 

I also spent lots of time swimming and exploring life in Seattle with new friend Larry, whom I first

Summer reverie, Lar and Jack on my back deck, Aug 2014

met in 1997 through Kevin (see eastern Caribbean trip at top of letter). In addition to training with me  over the summer at the outdoor Colman Pool in preparation for the Gay Games in Cleveland, Lar and I enjoyed post swim picnics at Alki Beach. In September he helped me prepare for my Spamalot callback and ran my lines forward and backward with me during the run of the show. A gifted pianist and fixer of all sorts of gadgets, I'm lucky to have him in my life. Another blessing of 2014.

Wishing you and yours the best holiday ever.

With Love,

Jack

A Lost Job, and A Mother's Legacy

"Success consists of going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm"

--Winston Churchill--

Last month, just before Thanksgiving,  I was informed by my boss that she'd decided to eliminate my position. It didn't come as a surprise only because as a fundraiser for a community-based nonprofit, I knew what the measure of my success entailed: increasing revenue through growing our base of support.

A New Challenge

A proud biker, outside my Pioneer Square office, Spring 2014

After accepting the newly-created position of Development and Membership Manager with Bicycle Alliance of Washington in March 2012, I rolled up my sleeves and got to work, engaging former board members, donors, volunteers, and the membership. I knew challenges lay ahead with name recognition and an all-too-similar mission with Cascade Bike Club.

Yet we had a loyal core of supporters and donors. I made progress increasing unrestricted revenue. Major gifts, individual giving, specialty license plate sales, and GiveBIG donations--all grew over the course of 2012 and into 2013. Membership continued to remain flat and gradually began a month-by-month decline in 2014, with other revenue sources lagging behind compared to my first two years.

Trouble Ahead
By late September, my boss made it clear we were looking at a significant deficit. We would need to pull out all the stops at our annual November auction to surpass the record breaking years of 2012 and 2013. Early in the summer I began soliciting table captains and reaching out to past sponsors and in-kind donors so we were looking strong on this front. 320 guests attended the auction, the largest crowd we ever hosted. By all accounts a successful evening with engaged bidders and record attendance, at night's end gross earnings stood near $100 K, almost $50 K less than our projected goal. We came up short.

Two days later my boss and a board member sat down across the table from me and said they would need to cut my job out of the 2015 budget. Shock, embarrassment, shame that somehow I'd failed--all these feelings ran through my mind as she and I sat across from each other with glum expressions on our faces.

I'd forgotten the key to my office and suggested the board member follow me home on my bike so I could return it to them. He kindly offered to load my bike on the back of his SUV and drove me home. I gave my boss an awkward hug and thanked her for everything--they would provide November's salary and health care coverage through the end of the year, in addition to paying out my remaining vacation time. We agreed I'd return another day to clean out my desk and complete an exit interview.

At home, I retrieved the key and shook the hand of the board member who dropped me off. During the drive he'd asked if I had any insights about why membership continued to decline, and I shared with him my impressions that younger generations didn't buy into a membership model, especially without the clear benefits--early registration for popular rides and discounted classes--that our chief competitor Cascade Bike Club offered.

A Sistine Chapel Sky--Riding on my bike down 16th Ave.

Laying the Groundwork
On that sunny fall morning, I began the process of laying the groundwork for my future. First I called my former professor, mentor and friend Hubert to schedule lunch and let him know of my predicament. He immediately offered to serve as a reference for me, as he had in the past. I logged onto the state unemployment website and filed a benefits claim.

Then a small voice whispered in my ear, "This is a sacred time." I paused for a moment and allowed the words to sink in. Grateful that I would receive a month's salary, vacation pay, and likely qualify for unemployment, I rested in the knowledge that everything would be okay. I'd completed a chapter in my life journey. Now the time had come to follow the next fork in the road toward something new, maybe even better.

Being Led
I opened the door to my living room closet and there hung my yellow tennis bag with my Wilson aluminum tennis racquet. A few minutes before noon I changed into a pair of shorts, t-shirt, and my favorite white Izod tennis sweater, and slid into my tennis shoes. My bike still parked in the building hallway, I threw the tennis bag on my shoulders and headed out to the street and Volunteer Park.

The sun shone above me, the blue sky lit like a Sistine Chapel overhead. The autumn leaves still clinging to trees formed an umbrella as I rode down 16th toward Volunteer Park.

Parked at Volunteer Park

Arriving at the park, I passed the water tower, my favorite Black Sun sculpture by Noguchi and the glass-encased Conservatory. I could see the tennis courts in the distance and a smile spread across my face.

The green pavement, still damp with morning dew, glimmered in the light. I'd not visited here since spring time, why had I waited so long? Leaning my bike against the inside of the fence, I pulled out my racquet and a few used tennis balls from my bag. I had the place to myself.

"Now, you know the drill," I heard the small voice whisper again. I approached the pounding board and began hitting the tennis ball against the board, over and over again. I fell into a rhythm, almost hypnotic, that carried me back to my years in middle and high school growing up in suburban Cleveland and riding my bike to the Linden Park Tennis Courts.

The warmth of the fall day softened my neck and back muscles, and my legs pushed forward and back to the ricochet of the tennis ball bouncing from the board to my feet for another return.

I looked up to see the glistening orange, red, and yellow leaves clinging to the trees, a looming cloud covering the sun, and then evaporating, allowing brightness to reemerge.

An epiphany on the court

The Special Voice
And then I realized the voice, the prodding, the call to return to the tennis court came from my mother. Mom had introduced me to tennis at the tender age of 5. Dad, she, and I played on-and-off as a family on Sunday mornings during the warm weather months usually from May through early October.

My mother derived such joy from the game that she wanted to share it with me, much like she taught me how to ice skate and at a later age, cross-country ski. These three sporting activities, like old friends, reside forever in my body, as natural as the earth, wind, and sky.

As I continued serving the ball and wielding the racquet with greater accuracy and force, I could hear her voice egging me, encouraging me, reminding me. "Let it out, Jack," she'd say when experiencing the typical frustrations of adolescence.

"Grab your racquet, bike to the court, and let it out." She regaled me with stories of her own youth and how when she felt down or upset about a life event, she'd march down to the tennis court with her racquet and hammer the pounding board. Here I was all these years later following my deceased mother's advice.

"I failed," I thought. And yet I didn't fail. I would never have known had I not tried. Maybe that realization was good enough to know.

From deep within, a resonant sigh emerged. Like a steady wind seeping from a cracked window, I allowed it to escape.

Grounded on the Tennis Court

Pride and Joy
On this stunning autumn day I raised my head again toward the trees and blue sky and saw my mother, felt her presence, peering down on me with pride and joy. Her 51-year-old son concluding that losing his job would neither destroy him nor damage his life.

Over the past few weeks I've realized how losing a job, and applying for unemployment, feels like a death, a la Elizabeth Kubler-Ross. There are different stages--I first experienced acceptance before anger, denial, and depression reared their ugly heads. I'm still sorting through some of the more negative emotions.

The important lesson for this good Catholic son is to allow myself the chance to feel them.

Life and Love

Mom and me, Polaroid snapshot, August 1969

In the meantime, this past year I've returned to another childhood love, the theatre. Over the next two weekends I'll continue my performances in Monty Python's Spamalot at Bainbridge Performing Arts. Singing, dancing, and walking on stilts as the persnickety Knight Who Says Ni has given me a purpose this holiday season plus great comfort and satisfaction during this time of life change.

Who knows what will happen next? What I do know is that as I mature and gain wisdom I'm less enamored with sitting in an office behind a desk.

On this sunny December day in Seattle I'm hoping to return to the tennis court soon, where I have a sneaky suspicion new directions will reveal themselves.