Remembering My Childhood Home

The reality of my mother's death didn't really sink in until I saw the Remax Realty property sign on the lawn of my childhood home in last August.  I knew selling the white-sided ranch would make me cry for days and even weeks.  I felt so safe and comfortable amidst the pillows and fluff in my old bedroom when I visited my mother in Central New York. Now, my visits will either be cut down to a few hours or require that I wake up to the sound of cars and trucks passing my hotel on the boulevard.

I sat in the house alone Thanksgiving morning, remembering the buzz and laughter that came from the kitchen on Christmas Eve. The 8 x 10" room would be taken over by a large oblong table laden with several fish dishes, a large antipasto, my father's spaghetti with anchovy sauce, Aunt Sonja's macaroni and cheese, and a tray piled with my mother's Christmas cookies--chocolate and cherry bon bons, pecan meltaways, soft Italians, sugar candy canes, and many more.

I also remember the sight of my father standing in a trench that he dug to extend the back patio as my mother cooked and baked to Simon and Garfunkel tunes.

The house sold at the height of the Christmas season and I stressed about having to empty the contents of it by January 15. I brought back carloads of vestiges of the past--including mom's World War II-era Homer Laughlin china, myriad doylys, photo albums, and recipes. I also took the Oneida Silver and other things I didn't need for fear that I would lose them forever to the estate sale crowd. 

Selling my childhood home has led me to a greater appreciation for the sweet snapshots of time -- my husband teasing our eight-year-old cat and talking to the canary.  Our apartment, which looks like a Pier One showcase, buzzes with friends and well-wishers during our annual holiday party and provides moments of solitude on lazy Sunday afternoons. The living room fills with light from the east that fades beautifully over an ornate, gray church steeple in the west.  One door closes, another opens.  And that makes me smile.

Confessions of a Mid-Life Orphan

I got the call that most mid-lifers dread.  "Holli, it's your brother.  Call me ASAP."  I could barely catch my breath before I rushed to call him back.

Two rings later, my brother picks up and says, "Mom's Gone." 
"O my God.  What do you mean she's gone?  I'll be out there tomorrow morning."

The week of my mother's graveside service moved at lightening speed as I scurried to make arrangements and contact  relatives and friends to tell them of the news.

Burying my mother was the worst thing I have ever had to do.  I cried every time I looked at her cherry red PT Cruiser in the driveway and felt out of sorts because I no longer had anyone older than I to depend on. I realized that I had become an orphan over night.  My mother was a stable force who offered encouragement when I was going through personal or job difficulties. She encouraged me to try to be an enlightened step parent and loaded me up with Italian food and homemade cookies that reminded me of the carefree days at home.

There would not be any more Sunday phone calls, Easter cards, or Utica-style halfmoon cookies.  The world felt like a lonely place my mother's raspy voice.  To help compensate for the loss, I grabbed my favorite recipes, hoping that I would be up to the task when the dust settled.  Unfortunately, it has been almost a year and I haven't made so much as a simple sugar cookie.

 Recommended Reading: Midlife Orphan by Jane Brooks

Unemployed but Overcommitted

I couldn't wait for our week-long trip to Fort Lauderdale to get away from the circus I call my life.  Though I have been unemployed for seven months, I have barely had time to catch my breath between job interviews, volunteer commitments, and requests from people who think I have more time to donate to their cause.

Potential employers who suspect a loss of motivation amongst the unemployed, are quick to test the waters, asking, "So what have you been doing for the last seven months?"  I write grant proposals part time and work at the Saratoga County Animal Shelter cat annex 1-2 days a week. Add an hour here and an hour there to sit on event planning committees, attend networking mixers, and go to job interviews. Our elderly neighbor, who is in the early stages of Alzheimer's, has deemed me as her first contact for miscellaneous errands and to talk about her distress over the aliens working in the basement.  My adult stepson makes several distress calls because he is unemployed and recently out of a relationship.

I wish I could say that being unemployed is less stressful than working.  But for me, unemployment has has meant a fragmented schedule with frequent interruptions and less time and energy for personal hobbies. Looking for a job in this economy is almost a full-time job riddled with energy-draining disappointments.  Working offers focus, challenge and an excuse for saying "no" to superfluous requests.

Nickled and Dimed at 49

Losing a job in your late 40's creates a great sense of loss--of identity, of security, and of purpose that is compounded by worries about the ability to save for retirement.  Loss of income is especially stressful because unemployment benefits barely cover the bills let alone the costs of looking for a job.  A career coach or counselor can cost  $50 to $500 per hour and networking events in my area cost $5 -$40.This is not to mention the reams of paper, business card stock and Inkjet cartridges that I have had to purchase for snail mail responses.

I write grant proposals as a contractor but I lose a day of unemployment for each day I work and my work is taxed at 15 percent by Uncle Sam. I

Appeal letters from local and national charities pour through the mail slot and I have received several calls from the Fraternal Order of Police. Even though I explain that I'm unemployed and can't give right now, some callers quickly brush past my response and back into their "but you'll be helping the families" appeal.

Obama was on the mark when he said, "It's every man for himself" when he was campaigning. The rich want tax breaks; charities want more donors; and the retailers want us to spend what we don't have on stuff we don't need to support shareholder demands for more profit. Meanwhile, my husband just asked if we're going to give each other three presents for Christmas this year. 

Maybe we need to take a deep breath and consider how the global economic meltdown has changed our reality and look to a different model of economics because the current one is clearly unsustainable.  How can anyone hope for more profits and more money while unemployment rate hovers at 10 percent?  If I can't afford to bake cookies, how can I afford to pay $50 to attend a gala to support cancer research?

I don't want to be the Grinch who stole Christmas but I'm beginning to feel like Jimmy Stuart in "It's a Wonderful Life" and could use a little charity myself.

Internships for Adults

If you're trying to change careers, it can be tough to get a job without experience.  According to Monster.com, internships for adults are on the rise, but finding one is a job in itsself.  Some places to look include:

• The Peterson's Guide to Internships
• College job boards
• Craigslist
• Monster.com

It can especially be helpful to tap your network of family, friends, business associates and former bosses and co-workers.  I actually landed a volunteer opportunity for grant writing by asking my LinkedIn network.  Now, I am gaining more experience as a paid constractor.

It's never to late to follow your heart and gaining necessary experience may only be a few sentences or a phone call away.

Read an article about adult internships on Monster.com.

Are Your Adult Children Holding You Hostage?

You thought that you would have more time and sanity once your children grew up and went out on their own.  But statistically, more children are coming back home to roost.  Some are smart young men and women who need a little boost while they establish their careers while others are determined to make your life a living hell.  The latter may sit around playing video games all day or go out partying every night without making any plans for a future.

Sound familiar?

Divorced parents often blame themselves for their children's troubles and some go to extraordinary measures to keep their children from facing the consequences of bad choices.  Consider Eddie, who's out all night with old high-school buddies, sleeps until noon, and storms out of the house when mom or dad confront him. Mom ends up tip-toeing around her son without making any demands or setting boundaries around what is acceptable.

Susan Carrell describes the issue in an Ezine Article and offers solutions for dealing with troubled adult children.  Click here to read the article.

Getting and Advanced Degree at 50+

The economic recession and massive layoffs have left thousands of middle-aged adults wondering if they should go back to college to obtain and advanced degree. 

According to Dr. Tom Denham of Career Transitions, Inc. in Albany, New York, most people fail to do the legwork that may save them a bundle in the long run.  "Before you go back to school, you need to figure out if your why is strong enough," he said.  "Otherwise, you can be in the fifth year of your doctoral program asking: Why am I here?"

Denham helps his clients explore their options by taking them through a four-step career discovery process.  After this process, clients emerge with a much clearer idea of what their goals are and how they want to achieve them.  "When clear, then decide on the sacrifices you're willing to make," Denham added. "How bad do you want it?  Are you willing to sell your house?"

Denham said that middle-aged adults are especially vulnerable because they face mounting responsiblities--like caring for elderly parents and paying for their children's education--that leave them little time to do much beyond their normal work day.  "People are time starved," Denham said.  "That's why it's important to start education early."

Joyce Lain Kennedy encourages her readers to talk to 10 to 12 people in the field that they are contemplating before mortgaging their future to pay for additional education.