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Showing posts with label 2021. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2021. Show all posts

12/31/2021

New Years Wishes

I've spent every Christmas for over a decade in the Sunshine State visiting my parents. Mele Kalikimaka and all that.  

It was always nice to be on vacation for the holidays (especially when it was freezing at home).  But I've never really gotten used to a tropical yule, as evidenced by the fact that I'm wearing a sweater and it is 72 degrees...

This year hit a bit different, as I'm a Florida resident now!

Obviously there are many things I miss from home, but I have to say, I'm enjoying this new chapter too. And honestly, I wouldn't trade anything for this time with my mom.


As I type this, we're hours away from 2022 so I have a few wishes for my family and yours...

๐ŸŒž May the sun shine on you every day.

๐Ÿฅ‚ May your glass always be half full.

๐Ÿงก May you be surrounded by people you love.

Here's to a picture-perfect new year! 

9/11/2021

Never Forget

Today marks 20 years since 9/11.  A grim anniversary if ever there was one.

It's a day I carry with me, burned in my brain. It changed me. And I have a sick pit in my stomach each year as I am triggered by the tributes.

They say "never forget." 

If you lived it, you know that's not remotely possible.

To mark the 10th anniversary, I wrote this.  Here's how I feel today...

I remember how much I loved my commute to lower Manhattan each day through the World Trade Center, feeling like I'd "made it" at age 28.

I remember riding the long escalator up from the PATH trains that connected NY & NJ, emerging in a sea of energy and hustle, like this was the epicenter of the universe.

I remember working on a sponsorship for Risk Magazine's financial conference at Windows on the World on the top floor of the Trade Center, scheduled for September 11, 2001.

I remember our speaker canceling his appearance days before, so mercifully, we wouldn't need to attend that conference after all.

I remember how beautiful it was that Tuesday morning with a clear blue sky.

I remember being stopped on my way to work by a local schoolteacher who had car trouble, which put me behind schedule.

I remember parking my car in Hoboken like every normal day, then hearing a horrible boom behind me.

I remember seeing the parking attendant's face lose all color, then being afraid to turn around to look across the Hudson River.

I remember seeing smoke surround one of the Twin Towers

I remember instantly calling my dad who worked in the building to see if he was alright.

I remember he said they felt a big jolt but were ok and were told to stay put.

I remember getting cut off mid-conversation as the cell towers jammed.

I remember walking over to the entrance of the PATH to stand next to a police officer so I could hear his radio.

I remember a stranger who grabbed my hand as we watched a second plane fly into the upper floors on the right side of South Tower, and not come out.

I remember the high-pitched screams and horrified gasps of the commuters standing around me as we all saw the unthinkable with our own eyes.

I remember desperately trying to get across the river to see if I could help my dad.

I remember a kind officer who turned me away.

I remember calling my mom who told me to come right home.

I remember driving on Route 3 past Giants Stadium, with tears streaming down my face, seeing the burning buildings in the distance.

I remember Peter Jenning's voice on the radio announce that the South Tower had collapsed, then almost driving head-first into a highway divider. 

I remember pulling up our driveway, having no idea if my father was alive.

I remember being afraid to walk into our house, seeing my mother rock back and forth on the couch while saying they just celebrated their 35th wedding anniversary.

I remember my brother coming home, eyes red from crying.

I remember the three of us standing together in the middle of the living room as we watched the North Tower collapse on live TV.

I remember my 6'5" brother drop into a ball on the floor, as I ran to the kitchen sink to throw up.

I remember the hours dragging by, wavering between sheer panic and utter numbness.

I remember hearing the phone finally ring out but feeling terrified to pick it up.

I remember hearing an operator ask if we would accept a collect call from John.

I remember us screaming YES into the phone receiver, hearing my dad's voice on the other end.

I remember my mom telling him to keep walking to safety at my aunt's apartment, more than 80 blocks away on the Upper East Side.

I remember the city being on instant lockdown with no one getting in or out.

I remember leaving a shaky voicemail for a good friend, who worked at Aon on the upper floors of the Trade Center, fearing the worst had happened to her.

I remember calling another good friend, who's father was a chief in the FDNY, praying he would make it home.

I remember our relief hours later when my father called again, safe at my aunt's apartment.

I remember my aunt telling us he arrived dazed and covered in soot.

I remember being totally exhausted but staying up all night, wide-eyed and watching cable news, my mind racing yet completely unable to process the day's unthinkable events.

I remember my dad coming home the following day in my uncle's clothes.

I remember my whole family hugging on our front lawn.

I remember going to an Italian restaurant a few days later with my mom and dad, brother, aunt and uncles to celebrate my dad's life.

I remember thinking how many families were not as lucky as we were.

I remember him telling us that he helped direct traffic as people evacuated the building, amidst the carnage of bodies, and left shortly before it all came crashing down, all because he was looking for me.

I remember extraordinary acts of courage.

I remember bone-deep and profound sorrow, fear and anger.

I remember the massive surge of patriotism that united us all as Americans.

I remember struggling to return to work the following Tuesday.

I remember all the makeshift missing person posters stapled to every pole in Hoboken.

I remember riding a ferry boat to cross the Hudson River because an entire PATH train station no longer existed.

I remember this massive boat being jam-packed but completely silent, as tears flowed down my face.

I remember stepping onto Pier 11 in NYC surrounded by crowds feeling totally alone and seeing armed guards and a giant military tank.

I remember my relief at seeing the face of my sweet boss through the crowd because my mom called and asked him to meet me at the boat to walk me to work on Water Street.

I remember the sick, awful smell of death that still hung in the air and stung my nose.

I remember the gray soot that still coated every surface like a blanket.

I remember feeling like an absolute zombie.

I remember slowly hearing familiar names trickle in, people I knew who's lives were tragically lost...

Brett Bailey, Billy Micciulli, Chris Dunne, Christopher Slattery, Ian Schneider, Jonathan Capello, Michele Du Berry, Paul Bristow, and Marc Murolo. 

I remember sitting in the office with my boss, Greg, and my colleague, Roger, and crying together.

I remember doing this same somber commute, across the river, week after week after week.

I remember having a panic attack one day in Battery Park on my way to work as I walked past The Sphere, a bronze statue recovered in the rubble of Ground Zero.

I remember two years after the attack when the PATH trains reopened in Lower Manhattan.

I remember seeing daylight from an underground train as we traced the perimeter of a building that no longer stood above it.

I remember the resilience of New York.

I remember three jobs later when my company announced we would be moving to the new One World Trade Center.

I remember knowing I would have to leave that job because I didn't have the heart or stomach to work on the spot where 2,753 beautiful souls were lost.


Every year at this time -- and often at times in between -- I'm reminded of this. All of it flashes through my mind like a horror movie that I can't unsee.

And the worst part of it is, despite the heroic efforts and sacrifices of our troops for the past TWO decades, I fear we're less safe today than we were on September 10th 2001.  

I pray for anyone who is suffering today and more than anything, I pray for peace.

8/03/2021

Two Truths and a Lie

Can you spot the lie?

I moved to a retirement community in Florida.

I play golf now.

I turned 48 today.

If you read this blog as irregularly as I write it, you may not know that I moved to FL, but I did.  

I moved in with my 76-year-old parents to help them with some health stuff. So not only do I live in a retirement community now, I work in one too!  And while my life did a total 180, I've got to say, I like it. 

So, that one is true.

And there are nearly 700 holes of golf in this massive town, so you might think I took up the sport.  Is it a sport?  Or game?  Or match?  Whatever.  

But I haven't done this.  Yet.  I'm not very sporty.  Though I reserve my right to play -- especially if I suddenly develop an overwhelming attraction to octogenarians in plaid pants.

So that's the lie.

Which means the other truth is that I'm 48.  WHAT??  Yes.  Forty.  Eight. 

Barf.

That means I'm just TWO YEARS away from 50.  FIFTY!  Good Lord.  How can this BE? 

I look so youthful (thank God for filters). And my hair is so long and fluffy and brown (don't zoom in, you'll see my grays). And I don't have many wrinkles (plump is the new Botox).

Well, I guess if Madonna's about to be 63, we've officially entered an alternate universe where age has ceased to have any meaning at all.

Here's what I do know: Life is short. If the past year taught us anything, it's that simple truth.  

As we get older, we tend to look backwards more than forward. Remember the time when...?  But I think a key to staying young (at heart) is trying new things and making new memories.  So go for that promotion, ask him out, cut bangs, buy the handbag, try to speak Italian, eat the cannoli, let the kids stay up late, learn to swim, go back to school, get the sportscar, or... move to a new city!

Just live your best life and next year, we can play three truths.

PS: If you ever want to feel instantly younger, move to a retirement community.  I'm easily the youngest person on our block by 20 years, and I'm constantly inspired by the energetic Seniors in this town.  If a fountain of youth exists, no doubt it's in Central Florida!

3/11/2021

Bye Bye Boken

I was born in the Bronx and lived there for the first 6 years of my life.  I've also lived in NYC and CT -- twice.  But I've spent the majority of my life in NJ and I'm a Jersey Girl at heart.

There's nothing I don't love about the Garden State.

(And yes, I know that's a double negative, and no, I don't care.)

It's so pretty -- don't let anyone tell you different. The public school system is terrific -- no joke, we rank #1 in the nation for pre-K-12.  The people have huge hearts -- you just have to earn it.  Every gas station in the whole state is full-service -- pumping your own is simply barbaric.  

And the food is the BEST -- just try getting a decent bagel or pizza or chicken parm outside the Tristate Area.  It can't be done!

So, you might be asking yourself, why I would leave the paradise that is New Jersey (she asked without a trace of sarcasm in her voice)?

Well, as much as I love it -- and it's really all I know -- 2020 was a rough year for many reasons, not the least of which was my parents' health. They saw more doctors and hospitals in the past year than they've seen my whole life.

It became crystal clear to me that we can't be 1000 miles apart anymore.

I considered moving them back up north, or moving all of us to the Chicago area to be near my brother, but truly the best thing for them is for me to fit into their lives, not the other way around.  Deciding to make the move to Florida to help care for them was a tough one, but I know in my heart it's the right thing to do. And lucky for me, I found a great job in their community doing what I love.

I believe things start to align when you're on the right track.

So, this week, my brother flew down to be with my parents, while I drove home from FL to NJ for the first time since last June.  After 9 months away, my apartment had become the world's most expensive storage unit.  I hired a company to pack, move and put all my stuff into an actual storage unit.  And tomorrow, I turn over my apt keys and drive back down to FL.  For good.  

All this, in the span of a week.

So, now I sit here in Hoboken by the glow of my oldest friend -- TV -- surrounded by boxes stacked to the ceiling.  Exhausted, yet unable to sleep.  I'm typing this with a heavy heart for the many people and things I'll dearly miss.  

But I DO have a full belly.

I mean, I really couldn't leave town without ordering ALL my favorite dishes, right?  At emotional times like this, I turn to food for comfort.  Here's a hearty helping...



My go-to from Napolis --
large vodka pizza, arancini & cannoli. Buon appetito!

Del Frisco's Grille serves up a fine steak salad,
but the cheesesteak eggrolls are really where it's at.

You haven't lived until you've had
a prosciutto & mutz hero from Vito's Deli.
(Eating it on top of a moving box is optional.)

NJ is the Diner Capital of the World, so naturally,
I needed a grilled cheese w bacon & crispy o-rings
from Malibu Diner, a Hoboken fixture since the 40s.

Did you even order from Sushi Lounge if you didn't get
crispy rice?  No.  Also, some edamame and spring,
super kani and cali rolls came along for the ride.

A final stop at O'Bagel for a toasted sesame with cream cheese
and a Snapple. My breakfast of champions since high school.


If I had more time, I also would have eaten my way through Charritos, Benny Tudino's, Arthur's, Grimaldi's, Madison's and House of Que too.

SO, smell ya later, Jersey!

Kiiidding.

I find humor helps in these situations.  But seriously, stay #HobokenStrong.  I miss you already...


1/01/2021

Dear 2021

Finally, you're here! 

Billions of people have been counting down the days until your arrival.  So, I'll make it simple for you.  

You have ONE job this year...

Be better than 2020.

That's not hard, right?  2020 was a dumpster fire of a year! Just making it to December was an achievement for us all.

And as you're looking for ways to be better, might I suggest starting with any of these 9 totally taken for granted things that 2020 took away?  


I miss them all terribly, and I suspect others might as well:  
  1. Hugs
  2. Smiling
  3. Eating in restaurants
  4. Going grocery shopping
  5. Trips to Target
  6. Working in an office with people you are not related to
  7. Flying
  8. Professional haircuts
  9. Coughing without getting the stinkeye

While we're at it, here's one thing I do NOT miss.  Please don't mess with it:
  1. Wearing actual pants
They are binding and uncomfortable and they squeeze my belly.  Thank you.


Your pandemic pal,
Jen