Because of United...

It's a time of reflection as the new year stands waiting there, next week, just a few days away.  Whether I stop to think about the past or not, 2013 will be here and then it will become the past, too.  Time marches on and all that. 

Today I am thinking about all that my employment at United has brought me:  a spouse, friends, travels, education, enlightenment, frustration, tears, family time, a good salary, security, health care, a future with a small pension, a 401(k), health benefits and flight benefits for life.  It might take me a few posts to highlight them all.  Let me reflect on the travel I have done because I have worked for an airline.  I'm sure I'll forget some places, there have been so many...

I grew up traveling, with my first plane flight on American Airlines to El Paso when I was not yet 3 years old.  That was followed by family vacations in the station wagon, driving across country to see my grandparents in Virginia and in Iowa (sometimes at their summer home in Minnesota); to see my mother's childhood home in Iowa and my dad's in Arkansas, to see every national and state park we could.  I hopped over the border to Mexico and to Canada.  I took my first trip to Europe in 1985, followed by one in 1986.  I left my job at EF Hutton Life Insurance/1st Capital Life Insurance with a one way ticket to Europe and stayed almost 6 months.

When I came back I needed a job.  What would better suit my wanderlust than a job with an airline?  When I started with United, in the Los Angeles reservations office, you had to work for the company for a year before you received flight benefits, but you were given 1 trip prior to that to try the product.  I flew to New York City for the very first time with my classmate and friend Claudia Blancett.  From there I hopped down to Washington, DC to visit my grandmother in Woodbridge, VA, then home.  Just a few months later the rules were changed to only 6 months seniority for the flight benefits and off to Maui I went with Kathi Porter.  And then you couldn't stop me.

New Orleans, Kauai, Honolulu, San Francisco, New York again, Washington again, Maine for shopping, anywhere in New England for snow and foliage, Colorado, Texas, Utah for skiing.  Buenos Aires with Carol Dreher and Costa Rica with Marcy Clarke for vacations. France with Peggy, Italy with Jayne.  Denmark to see family, England with Teri, Scotland with Laura, Ireland with Troy, cruises with Sharon, John and Keary.  I reacquainted with Cameron Larson, a guy from UCLA days, while on a connection in Denver.  We started dating and then it was Hawaii, New Orleans, San Francisco, Chicago, London and Paris with Cam.

In 1998 I took a job with United in Chicago, moving from my beloved San Diego to the Chicago suburbs in January.  This job with United Services, my favorite of my UA career, was selling line maintenance services to other airlines.  Airlines around the world.  This meant 200,000 miles a year in travel, negotiating contracts in Australia, China, Korea, Spain, England, Argentina, Thailand, and other places around the globe.  That photo at the top is me sitting in the captain's seat of the British Airways SST Concorde at Heathrow.  That's Matt Robinson on the right, to whom I was turning over the BA account when I left that job.  My first trip with the United Services job was to China.

I'll pick up on the next post where I went from there.

McKenna

A draft I found from 2010...

In a very fortunate life, filled with lots of good stuff, one of my joys is my 28 month old niece McKenna. She is so funny, loving, smart, stubborn and you might get that I am totally in love with her. That's how it just is sometimes. I'm not a mom, but I am a darned good aunt.

Yesterday, during Thanksgiving festivities at her house, we were running up and down the hall. She would should "RUN, KK! RUN FAST!" and off we would go, faster than I thought I could move this large 53+ year old body, but McKenna can make me do just about anything. On a few of the runs down the very long hallway I would duck into a doorway and wait for her to notice. She would come running back to find me.

Finally, after the third or fourth time of my ducking out, she ran up to me and said "I love you", and just as my heart was melting, she took off running and called over her shoulder  :"RUN, KK!" and off we went.

Vernon Maitland Larson

My father-in-law, Vern Larson, passed away the morning of December 4, 2012.  He was 91 years and 10 months old, in good spirits, good mind and good health.  We don't know exactly why he passed or what.  We know he went to breakfast that day in his assisted living home, Bradford Square, but he did not go to lunch ad he was found, passed, on the floor in his room.  Cameron and his sister, Karen, opted to not have an autopsy done.  They didn't see what good it could possibly have done and didn't want to further disturb him or them.  I agree with that.  91 years well lived, through much sadness and adventure, did not need that kind of ending.

Here is the biography of Vern I wrote for the memorial services program:

Born in Little Cedar, IA, to Hans Larson, owner of a creamery, and his wife, Anna, Vern was one of 5 children and one of 4 very busy and athletic brothers. 

He attended high school in Riceville and went on to attend Luther College in Decorah, Iowa, until the winds of war took him and his brothers to faraway places.  While his brothers all served in the Pacific, Vern went to Europe with the Army Air Forces, being among the first to enter Paris and Berlin after VE Day.

After the war Vern and his brother Wendell found sunny Southern California.  They both attended UCLA and Vern’s love of UCLA continued for the rest of his life.  Vern transferred to UC Berkeley to finish his Engineering degree and started his career at Factory Mutual in San Francisco.  He also met his wife, Doris Termes, there.

Vern and Doris had two children – Karen and Cameron.  Doris passed away from cancer in 1961.  The young widower found love again with Mae Loucks, whom he married in late 1962.  They moved the family to Southern California in 1964 and eventually settled in Placentia.

Karen married Frank Bello and had two children, Christine and Michael.  Frank passed away in 2003.  Cameron married Joanne Whitbread and had two children, Anna and Eric.  Cameron divorced in 1990 and married Katie Kimbell in 1999.  Vern delighted in his family and their successes, and he loved being a grandfather.

Vern retired from Factory Mutual in 1983 and spent many days on the Alta Vista golf course.  He had two holes in one and shot his age several times – great accomplishments for a golfer!

We lost Mae in 1998 and Vern again settled into being a widower.  At age 82 Ruth Schroeder walked into Vern’s life and he was like a love smitten teenager.  Ruth and Vern married in 2005, at age 84.  We lost Ruth in 2009 and Vern moved into Bradford Square.  He threw himself into life there, delighting in Bingo games, cribbage, Wii Bowling and each and every meal.  We are grateful for the love and care they gave him at Bradford Square.

Throughout his life Vern remained passionate about golf, family and UCLA.  With his quick chuckle and twinkling blue eyes he touched lives and made friends wherever he went.

And here is my eulogy I read at the service on December 10, 2012:

With his matinee idol mustache, his sparkling blue eyes and his passion for all things UCLA, I loved my father-in-law, Vern Larson.

We first met at “The Club”, Alta Vista Country Club in Placentia, where Vern delighted in playing and in treating his family to Sunday brunch.  Cam had brought me out to meet the family for the first time.  Vern was warm and welcoming to me.
As my relationship with Cameron deepened, I grew closer to Vern.  I grieved alongside him at Mae’s passing and then was overjoyed at becoming his daughter-in-law.
As many of you know, Vern never forgot a birthday or an anniversary.  Like clockwork, always in time, a card would arrive in the mail for us with a sweet note and a generous gift.

He loved UCLA and what fun we had watching games – like the USC game with the Farmers – and listening to him talk about the Bruins.  As soon as a game would end our phone would ring and he would be calling Cam to talk about it.  The last one they had a chance to talk about was this year’s Bruin vitory over the Trojans.  Thanks, guys, for giving him that.  He loved the Bruins so much he named Cameron after a UCLA football player and his email address was “Bruin 49er”.

In 1999, shortly after Cameron and I were married, Vern came out to visit us in Illinois.  After a couple days Cam had to go back to work and I drove Vern from our home to the annual Larson family reunion in Cresco, Iowa.  For more than 5 hours Vern talked and talked, and talked.  He told me about his growing up in Iowa, about his brothers, World War II, moving to California and his family with Doris and Mae.  I was given a crash course in the Larsons and he wanted to make sure I knew everything I should know about my new family.  I was a Larson now!

When we arrived in Iowa that year I had the rare treat of seeing all four of the Larson brothers together, Harold, David, Vern and Wendell.  That year was the last time they were all together.  I also got to meet all the cousins and really felt like a Larson, afterall I’d had my 5 hour crash course!  I could not have been happier to have joined this family.

Vern’s visits to our Illinois home the week before the Larson reunion became annual events we looked forward to and we had fun taking him to Arlington Park for the horse races, cooking for him and just visiting.

After Mae no one expected him to find the love and life he found with Ruth.  Their love was tangible and they were as affectionate as teenagers.  She brought Vern to life.  Those sparkling blue eyes danced when they looked at Ruth.  Her vigor, golf game, faith and cooking made him happy, incredibly happy.  She also brought him here, to Brea United Methodist Church.  He and Ruth found love at 82 years old – may we all be so lucky.

The last 3 ½ years since Ruth’s passing we’ve watched Vern make difficult decisions, but he made them independently, with forethought.  He moved into assisted living at Bradford Square.  He gave up golf and he gave up driving.  He eventually gave up walking much and just used his scooter.  He rode that thing around Bradford Square, down the sidewalk to the drugstore and to our last outing last month at The Whole Enchilada with Karen, Michael, Christine, Cameron and me.

Just as in golf you play it as it lies, Vern played his life as it lay – working with whatever life threw at him, in sad times and in good times, with integrity, perseverance and focus.

“So, anyhow…” was how Vern segued conversations and “Love you” was how he ended them.

So, anyhow, Vern, love you. 

And we miss him every day.

Friends of Pathways Request 2012

This is my annual letter sent to many friends and family looking for support for the charity that is my passion:  Pathways to Independence.  I welcome all supporters and donations!

Dearest Family and Friends:

 It’s Pathways season and I’m baaaack!! 

 For the 5^th year I am deeply involved in the annual Friends of Pathways fundraising event, an annual party held in the Park Estates section of Long Beach to raise money for Pathways to Independence (PTI).  Yes, that same organization you’ve been seeing in my signature line for the last few years.  There are many, many fine charities, causes and organizations out there to support; many focus on finding cures and treatments for diseases, education, helping children who are sick or starving, helping the homeless, the helpless and the deserving.  I have gladly written checks over the years and most of my money was channeled toward health issues (MS Society, City of Hope, American Cancer Society, Team in Training, etc.).  It was when Cam and I attended this event ourselves, as guests, in 2007, that I was finally moved to action, to do more than write a check.

 PTI serves the Orange County and Long Beach area and it has grown now to 42 women in the program with over 260 graduates.  PTI provides housing, healthcare, educational costs, car repair, psychological services and mentoring to young women who come from the most horrific backgrounds and who have been living below the poverty level.  These women, who come from all ethnic backgrounds, commit to attending school full time with the goal of a B.A./B.S., they commit to working part time, to keeping up with their healthcare (dentist, eye doctor, general doctor visits), seeing a psychologist once a week and working with a mentor.  Over 100 medical professionals donate their services and they are joined by auto mechanics and other service providers in a network of 300+ volunteers who support Pathways to Independence.  Some of their stories are told in a book that came out last year titled “Butterfly Tears”.

 While not everyone makes it through the program, the success rate at PTI is over 80%.  Pathways graduates are now teachers, attorneys, social workers, nurses, in medical school and are changing our world as we helped them change theirs.  More than 90% of every dollar raised go right back to the program.  This event raises one third of the annual budget for Pathways.  Last year we raised $320,000 net for PTI.  Stop and think about that amount of money.  It’s really overwhelming and it’s all pulled together from May to the event in October by a group of women, like me, who are passionate about this.

 This is the 16^th year of the Friends of Pathways event, started by 4 women who wanted to keep PTI from closing its doors.  Three of these women, Lisa Mais, Gayle Wright and Johnna Bryant, still head up the event.  I’ve worked on the auction committee the last 4 events, running the silent auction tent for the past 3.  Cam started volunteering at the events in 2009.  This year I stepped up to the steering committee.

 So, let me tell you that I know you are asked frequently to give and that you can’t say yes to everyone.  I respect and honor that.  If you’re at all interested, I encourage you to check out the website below and maybe to pick up the book about PTI, “Butterfly Tears”.  It’s available on the PTI website, the book website below, on Amazon or by Kindle.  Proceeds of the sale go back to PTI.  If I’ve peaked your interest a bit more than that, I have some options for you to consider, and these can even be combined!

1. Attend our event “Rockin’ Memphis in the Park” on Saturday, October 6th.  The cost is $100 per person ($75 tax deductible) and includes food from 31 Long Beach/OC area fine restaurants, beer, wine, soda and water, dancing, FABULOUS silent and live auctions.  We’ll have rock-n-roll music from The Hodads all evening long as we stroll a street in Park Estates that’s been turned into Memphis, complete with Graceland and Beale Street.  As this event sells out every year we are expanding the event to 500 people for the first time this year.  We still expect a sellout, so buy your tickets NOW at www.pathwaystoindependence.org .

2. Buy some raffle tickets.  $100 buys you 12 tickets, $25 for 3 or I’ll even sell you 1 for $10.  The Grand Prize is a trip to anywhere, with a credit for $3,500 to plan a trip with Surf City Travel.  2^nd prize is $1,000 and 3^rd prize is an iPad 2.  Send me a check (made out to Friends of Pathways) and I’ll get you in the raffle and send you the stubs.  I have sold the Grand Prize winning ticket 2 of the last 4 years, so I’m a lucky person to buy them from!

 

3. Purchase a sponsorship.   It starts at just $500 and gets you some advertising. More money gets you more exposure, tickets and reserved tables. (Contact me for specifics)

 

4. Donate an item we can put in our silent auction.  If you have something from your business, contacts, a week in a vacation home, something you bought and would like to donate, please let me know.  Our event is known for having the best silent auction around, with most items and baskets starting at a $100 value.  Our live auctions items are exciting, too! 

 

5. Send in a donation through the web address below or send me a check made out to Friends of Pathways. 

6. JUST WISH US LUCK WITH THE EVENT!  You mean so much to me that I wanted to share this passion with you, but I’m happy if you just give me your well wishes and save your dollars for something that moves you as much as this does me, something about which you are passionate.  It doesn’t matter where we do good, just do good.

Thanks for reading and thanks for supporting me, in whatever way is best for you.

50 and Fabulous (redux)

 First posted January 31, 2010, I just reread this entry below and, at 55, it seems to bear a repost... (and if you're looking for the Jen Lancaster post it's the next one down)

50 and fabulous

A dear friend of mine turned 50 on Friday and I was trying to tell her how great it is to be in your 50's. Now, for those youngsters out there still in their 40's, it's not that I don't wish I were younger (thinner, richer, healthier, prettier, funnier), but there is something so freeing about hitting the big 5-0.

Like, you no longer have to wonder if that cute young guy is looking at you. He isn't. Unless you remind him of his mom.

You know you're not ever going to the Olympics as anything other than a spectator, so you can stop worrying about when to start training.

What you're going to be when you grow up has already been decided.

You know what you like, you often know what you want and sometimes you remember both of those.

Sometimes you get the seat because you're the oldest one around.

You don't really care what others think any more because you have confidence and experience. You know who you are and if others don't like it, well... You still might want to change out of the slippers when you leave the house. Or not.

The President of the United States is younger than you are. I don't know that that is a good thing about being in your 50's, but it's a fact. Like when you realized that Miss America was younger than you...that the NFL football players were all younger than you...then you realized that you could be the mother of Miss America or an NFL football player. But not the POTUS.

Not yet, anyway.

(And still not yet, regardless of who wins the election this year.)

Social Media Experiment

One of my favorite authors, Jen Lancaster (www.jennsylvania.com), is doing a social media experiment, asking folks to post, blog, tweet about her and/or her work.  Okay, Jen, here ya go and this is probably overdue, anyway:

A couple years ago I joined my friend Gloria, her husband and some friends for a few days in Hawaii.  I asked Gloria about the book she was reading with the intriguing title, "Such a Pretty Fat", and she told me about one of her favorite authors, Jen Lancaster, and that she reads one of her books for fun every year when she goes to Hawaii.

Having just finished a serious novel ("Cutting for Stone" by Abraham Verghese, which I loved), I was looking for a little lighter reading.  I Googled Jen Lancaster (doesn't everyone do a background check on an author before you read?), read up a little, got caught up in her blog and discovered she writes memoirs where the action mostly takes place in my old home of Chicago.  I downloaded "Bitter is the New Black" to my Kindle and was instantly smitten.

Although not quite a decade older, I could relate to some of the stories and certainly the terrain.  No, I'm not snarky or the mean girl to my colleagues, but I secretly enjoyed the thought of having the nerve to unleash one at one of my accounts, at just the perfect opportunity.  I did it vicariously through Jen.

I couldn't get enough of Jen's sarcasm, her wit and her humor.  My husband would get annoyed when I'd open the Kindle in bed, "Going to bed with Jen again?"  My guffaws would be louder than my husband's snoring; my snickers while reading in the doctor's office would turn heads, and I became a citizen of Jennsylvania.  I caught up on all of her books (because I always read my authors in the order their books are published) just as "If You Were Here" came out.  Then I had to wait a whole year before the latest one, "Jeneration X" came out.  Just like when I caught up with "Weeds", "24" and "Dexter as new seasons started and had to wait another week to watch Jack Bauer save the world.  Hate. to. wait.

However, I had a secret weapon - if I can't Read Ms. Lancaster, then I'll read what she recommends!  That's how I came to read a non-fiction book about cells:  "The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks" .  I loved it. 

So, then I had to "like" her page on Facebook, keep up with her blog and I have her autograph on a bookplate for "Jeneration X" stuck to my Kindle cover. I find myself talking about the Jen Lancaster books to my friends, especially my Chicago area friends.  Now I even prescribe her books to friends going through tumultuous times.  The ol' laughter is the best medicine thingy.

I shipped off "Bitter is the New Black and "Bright Lights Big Ass" to a friend (who had lived in Chicago) who was going through marital strife.  I just bought "Bitter is the New Black" for a friend in a mid-life crisis.  Really, if you can laugh - and I dare you not to as you make your way from Bitter to Bright Lights to Pretty (x2) to Lazy and to her first novel before landing at Jeneration - it will give you some respite from the crap we all go through. If we can laugh with Jen and Jen's faults, foibles and fun, then we know we will be fine, too.

Thanks, Jen, for being there when we need you.  Good luck with your social media experiment and please come to Long Beach/Orange County on your next book tour.

I'll be your friend, except when it's uncomfortable or inconvenient

Illness, tragedy and medical matters can each bring out the worst and the very best in friends. Heck, in family. Many people just don't know what to do or say when someone they know and may even love is going through one of these events. If they ignore it, then maybe they can just act as though it didn't happen, or no one told them about it, the next time they see the person. They dont have to worry that they might do or say the wrong thing. It's all about their comfort level. Right? Wrong.

I learned, not early enough, that ignoring the event or loss is the worst possible thing you can do. A family member was killed in a terrible and tragic circumstance when I was in my early 30's. Her family was embraced by the community, by relatives and friends from across the globe; the outpouring of love was overwhelming. Even so, her mother told me how much it hurt to not hear from friends, including those she considered very close friends. I was someone who had ignored losses and medical situations in the past. I didn't want to say the wrong thing, I didn't know what to say, I would pretend like I didn't know. That made me feel better. I told her that and asked "Well, what if I say the wrong thing?". She told me "Saying nothing is the wrong thing." From that day forward I have made a conscious effort to acknowledge losses and illnesses of close friends, of aquaintances, of clients.

It was after a recent surgery when some of this was brought to mind again. Certainly my circumstances were not tragic and I was not ill, but I did go through a major operation and spent 5 days in the hospital, 6 weeks out of work. I was amazed and humbled at the outpouring of good wishes from friends, family, co-workers and clients. And equally amazed by the silence from others. I received cards from people I speak to once a year or only interact with on Facebook. They actually took the time to buy (or make) a card, write it out and put a $.45 stamp on it. Calls and emails came in, Facebook posts were made, people visited. A friend drove down from the Bay area to spend 4 days taking care of me, knowing I was housebound and not able to do much for myself. It all helped and really did make me feel better. It even made me want to work at recovery for them, to not let them down, as they were cheering for me. I am so appreciative of the time and efforts spent to let me know they had thought of me, that they had taken the time to reach out and let me know.

The silence from others? Hurtful in some cases, curious in others. I wonder if the ones I didn't hear from were in the same place I was so long ago. Were they afraid to say the wrong thing? Not certain what to say? Too much time had gone by?

The next time something happens to someone you know, whether it's a tragic loss or an unexpected illness; a cosmetic surgery or the surgery of someone close to them - say something. Let them know you're aware they are going through a situation that causes pain, be it emotional, physical or both. That little comment, that reaching out to let them know that you know and you care? It makes a difference and it helps them. It's about being kind.

"Saying nothing is the wrong thing."