"Oh, This is a Happy Day..."
Samuel Beckett (1906-1989)
The years following our son Marc's birth were, in my memory, relatively peaceful and enjoyable ones. Suzanne and I were now learning to become parents. Our days ended with reading bedtime stories, even at his very early age. As he became verbal, the end of the storybook would always be followed by his demanding "one more". Eventually, he began to read on his own to his own enjoyment and our amazement.
He was a curious little fellow, fascinated by his surroundings. I shared with him my love of airplanes and we would frequently head to the airport to watch planes land and take off, as I described to him all the different types of planes. He was also very humorous and liked to get a laugh out of people, even as a very young child. I remember when he got his first pair of "big boy" underpants, he delighted in showing our guests that it had an opening in the front! And, of course, he made sure people knew his name ended in a "c" and not a "k".
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| At the airport with Mom |
Suzanne decided she would like to pursue her MBA to acquire tools for a future career in business and, in the evenings, would attend Rochester Institute of Technology's College of Business. During the day, she would care for Marc with lots of discovery and activities. Once he was old enough, we enrolled Marc in Penfield Village Nursery School where the teachers were caring and interactive with their young charges. Marc began to socialize and make good friends there and stayed there for kindergarten with Mrs. Ann Lame with whom we became good friends.
I was very satisfied with pediatric practice and felt that, now, as a parent, I could give advice from actual experience instead of from the top of my head. Jim Sayre continued to mentor me and impressed on me the importance of getting involved with the community and professional organizations which I did (and continue to do). Achieving work-life balance was important to both Suzanne and me and we made time to travel, go to a movie or listen to one of the many concerts that Rochester had to offer. I passed my oral Pediatric Boards which gave me a higher level of confidence in my skills, having overcome my anxiety after a two hour oral examination with four of the top pediatricians in the country.
In 1984, Suzanne finished her course of study and was to receive her MBA at RIT's huge commencement ceremony in their field house. We decided to take 4 year-old Marc so he could see what his mom had been up to on those many evenings. It was a solemn occasion with hundreds of under-grads and grad students all dressed up in their black gowns and mortar boards. I sat with Marc on the side of the graduate area as they all filed in with all the academic regalia that comes with it. Marc saw his mother march by and, suddenly, began wailing inconsolably. I realized that we had never really explained "graduation" to Marc in a four-year-old's comprehension. In Marc's eyes, he saw it as an "ending" which meant his mother must be going away for ever! I quickly set him straight and he seemed relieved once she had crossed the stage.
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| Suzanne crossing the stage to get her MBA |
Always the travelers, we didn't let having a child deter us as we saw the importance of introducing him to new and different places. I would travel to meetings around the country and Suzanne and Marc would come along. Suzanne was doing a fair amount of travel as well with her work. Trips to Florida, Virginia, Detroit, Toronto, Martha's Vineyard, the UK and Belgium followed.
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| Marc discovers MacDonald's for the first time in Detroit! |
It was always interesting to see places that we knew through the eyes of a child. I don't really know how much of this travel Marc remembers as an adult. There was the time we were in London and I thought we would cross the Thames on Tower Bridge. As we got to the bridge, there was metal grating underfoot through which Marc could see the river. This sight stopped him in his tracks...and, we never really crossed the bridge that day! Taking him to our village in Belgium was a treat as we still knew folks who lived there and Marc got to test the delicacy of Belgian frites dipped in mayonnaise or a gauffre (Belgian waffle)!
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| The pleasures of a hot waffle (Braine L'Alleud, Belgium) |
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| Marc and his new friend, "Ben" in Lasne Chapelle St.Lambert |
After his first summer vacation at "kooka lake", old college friends convinced us to spend a week at Camp Canaras (Saranac spelled backwards) on Upper Saranac Lake. It was a family camp for alumni of St. Lawrence University. A beautiful spot, we returned there for a week each summer for the next 22 years, many of the weeks with the same families. There, Marc made many friends and had the freedom to go off and play. One Sunday, when Marc was around five, one of the guests, Dan Lang, from Toronto, asked me if it would be all right for Marc to go with him and his family to the little outdoor church in the woods for Catholic mass. Having been an avid student of comparative religion in my youth, I consented and, as Marc went off, I sat by the lake reading the Sunday Times. About an hour later, Marc ran down the beach towards me. "How was Mass, Marc?" "It was great", he replied. "What was the best part about it?" "The refreshments"! Somehow, I had never thought of a communion wafer as a "refreshment" but, I guess it was in a five-year old's mind! At any rate, we continued to enjoy the place immensely over those years...the sailing regatta ("Ya Gotta Regatta"), water-skiing which I started in my 30's, hiking and climbing some of the smaller mountains, and, yes, the Happy Hour every night before dinner on the cocktail deck.
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| A serene moonlit summer evening on Upper Saranac Lake |
One year, Bill Daly and I, in an O'Day day sailer were out in the lead, sure to finally win a regatta. With me at the helm, we sailed by Green Island and I noticed Bill staring with his mouth open. There on the beach was a very attractive woman changing out of her bathing suit which caused him to drop the jib. I, obviously, had to come around which suddenly put us in last place. We never won a race! We soon became known as "Hans and Franz", a moniker that stuck with us for many years.
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| And they're off...with Hans and Franz! |
In 1985, as Marc was just turning 6, his "Nana Bea" sadly passed away after a long illness. She was beloved by all and had a huge crowd at the funeral, after which we processed up to Valhalla, NY for her burial. We had explained what was to happen that day to him, down to the details of the burial. As we all stood somberly around the coffin, just as it was to be lowered into the ground, Marc broke ranks, went to the side of the burial site, did a quick inspection, and, in a loud five year old voice said, "Yup, Dad, that looks about six feet to me!" The mood of the attendees lightened listening to this innocent observation through a child's eyes! This was followed by the death of our beloved and faithful, Rex. Books that explained death to children certainly came in handy, as did the comforting words of Fred Rogers on PBS. More on Fred in a future post.
To add to my own work-life balance, I began writing letters to the editor of our city newspaper, the Rochester Democrat and Chronicle, eventually to get my own monthly column on children's health.
I also started taking piano lessons again at the Eastman Community Music School. In 1979, I had written a letter to the head of the school and explained I was an undisciplined adult learner and asked if he would recommend a teacher for me. After my piano lessons as a youth, I felt I had to be honest and tell him about my penchant for avoiding practicing. And so, I began lessons with Harriet Zimmerman, a teacher of classical piano, and 39 years later, I still continue lessons with her. She had me doing recitals for a while but one's ability to memorize music fades over the years (they require all pieces are memorized). That and my performance anxiety precluded continuing with recitals. Now the only people I play for are Harriet and myself!
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