November. Alex 20 mos, Dad 60, Half Marathon and Tofurky Day

In an effort to catch up, I am just going to lump November together!  Kate and Alex are doing great.  Alex is stringing 2-3 words together and Kate has started drop-off play dates with her BFF Emeli.  We re-elected Obama and went to an Obama Pajama Party.  Steve and I celebrated 7 years of marriage with sushi at Ginza in Chinatown and some beers at J.J. Foley's.  It was like the Brighton days!  We saw Neil Young later in the month to celebrate even further.  We threw my dad a surprise 60th birthday party and I toasted him.  I posted a copy of my notes at the end of this post. I am not sure I stayed on course, because I am the ad lib queen.
Also, I ran my first half-marathon.  1:56:02.  Not too shabby for the girl who used to smoke a pack a day and ran her first mile at age 30!  I also ran the ALS 5K and the Gobble Gobble 4mi in Davis.  I love racing season.

We spent T-day in VT and enjoyed some snow.

A funny note of the month:  Alex was bothering Kate in some way and Kate says "Stop that or I won't call you my sweet little bird anymore".  Alex stopped.  For a little while, at least.

No wonder I didn't have time to blog.....

Surprise!

 Josh toasting

 Dad in VT- the spot Steve proposed.  We took the parents there right the next year

 Grammies!

 Farm !

 Sisters.  Sweet birds.

 Cousins at Grammas

 Break out the Xmas Jammies!

Sarah’s Toast Dad’s 60^th Birthday, November 9th 2012

I would like to say a few words to wish my dad a happy birthday

I know everyone here has known my dad at various stages of his life- his sisters and brothers from birth, his cousins and wife from his teenage years, and his kids and nieces and nephews from his adult life.  I am sure we could all tell stories about my dad, some PG, some not (like I just found out he stole a car with Manooch once...that was kept from me until last week).

But no matter the story, I am sure that the one common thread through the years has been what a nice, honest, fun-loving and genuine guy he is.  He once told me his childhood nickname was “Emo-Joe”.  I remember not understanding what that was all about, but now I get that his sensitivity to the world and other people has always been obvious to those around him.  And that’s not a bad thing.  The fact that he wears his heart on his sleeve is refreshing (or dangerous if you ask my brothers.  I am sure they could tell us all a few stories about how my dad’s readiness to show exactly how he is feeling has made for some interesting experiences on the job).  Sure, he may have been teased about it as a boy -now he would be called insightful or observant- but the fact that he is so open with people means that you always know where you stand with Joe.  He is a genuine guy and doesn’t have an insincere or phony bone in his body.

I didn’t know how lucky I was as a child to have a dad who was not afraid to say “I Love You” and to show us affection.  I am sure my brothers feel the same as this is even rarer for boys.  My dad never needed to play the macho man, because he was strong and secure.   Sure, he handed out some whoop ass once in a while when we needed it, but we always knew we were loved.

Recently I was a fund-raising meeting at Kate’s school and the principal called on us parents to give our “Time, Talent, or Treasure”.  That came to mind while I was preparing this toast as I realized my dad gave his kids all three. 

His time.  He spent nearly 20 years of his life in hockey rinks, gymnastics gyms, at school plays, art shows, graduations, *court* , shuttling us to school, CCD, 6AM practices, school vacation tournaments an hour away, after-school jobs, and just when he was due for a break, Josh would get selected for some hot shot summer hockey team.  An hour away.  With 6 AM practices.  I seriously don’t know how he did it.

I remember one gymnastics meet where someone had a game or a practice- probably Josh in some superstar league- so I thought no one could make it to see me.   But, as a lined up for my bar routine, I saw my dad and Jake sneak through the garage doors in the back of the gym right next to the bars to watch me.  It felt so great to be able to show off my stuff for my dad.   I am sure he was tired from work all day and all of the other stuff he was doing, but he made the time.

He always took the time to play with us, to build igloos in the yard, take us to the pond skating or fishing, and played hours of table hockey with the boys.  Once a year he would wrap himself head to toe in gauze and scare the hell out the kids at the school Halloween party.  Your family can attest that you were always at every christening, birthday party, first communion and wedding.  And you could always be counted on to have a good time.  He always made time.

His Talent.  In addition to his prodigious horseshoe and dart talents, he was a great hockey coach.   He coached all of us at some point and was involved in the South Shore Eagles Youth Hockey organization for years.  His talent as a coach was recognized when he received Coach of the Year in 95, I think it was.  I remember the hours spent sketching out practices and strategies, helping kids on his team improve and dealing with their parents.  The great thing about that Coach of the Year award is that the year he got it, his team didn’t win a single regular season game.  That just shows you how much his efforts were appreciated and despite the lack of luck and or talent on that team, the kids had a great year.  It was really like a Disney movie.  They didn’t win a single game until the playoffs (which all the teams made).  According to Jake, there was one kid who just wanted to play with a ball on the bench.  But, this team somehow came roaring to life and won like 4 games in a row and won the championship.  I’m sure he knows how much that meant to his kids and I am glad someone else recognized it.  I wish I had given him the proper congrats.  But, I was a 15 year old holed up in my room (which was painted black) listening to god-awful music and sulking in what my dad affectionately called “the coffin”.  Anyways, here I am 18 years later to say, Congrats, dad.  Thank you for sharing your talent.

His Treasure.  Oh yeah, he paid for all of this.  Hockey, gymnastics, camps.  And for our college, my wedding, cars, dirt bikes, skateboards and first apartments.  He worked hard and sacrificed for his family his whole life.  He worked really hard.  My brothers can tell you that.  And he was damn good at what he did, evidenced by the way the salespeople at Sears would fight over him and how he had to fix the other installers’ jobs.  I am sure half of the people here had their carpets done by my dad.  He didn’t splurge on himself, drive a fancy car, or take fancy vacations.  He put it all towards his family.  Always.  Thank you, dad.

Kate’s principal asked for one- your time, talent, or treasure.  You gave us all three.

It is hard to believe you are 60, dad.  It is easy to forget your parents existed before you were born.  I was reminded of this looking at the picture collage mom put together.  I will end with a story of an experience that I will never forget.  I remember when I first became aware of your age.  I was about 7, hanging my brand new Patrick Swayze poster above my bed and you ducked in, probably to tell me to turn down whatever god-awful music I was currently listening to-probably Bon Jovi or JEM-and you laughed and said “Sarah, you know he is my age, right?”, to which I said “No, eww” or something, and you said “Yeah, he is 33”. 

I remember thinking “What??! How can this be true?! How could Patrick Swayze be so OLD????”  Little did I know how young you both were.  Well at least in my perspective now.  Funny how that changes.  

 I am 33 now (so young) with 2 little girls of my own (who thank god aren’t yet into god-awful music or Tween Idols) and I think about how much you had already done by that point of your life.  You were raising 4 kids, involved in all of their activities, nurturing a happy marriage, and somehow finding time for your own interests such as playing basketball, running, darts and horseshoes.  You must have been so tired!  If you were, you didn’t show it or let it keep you from giving your all to your family. And it’s not over yet!  You continue to be a great grandfather and father and we wish you all the best in this next chapter of your life.

We are lucky to have you.  Happy Birthday, Dad, we love you.