A NEW GIFT

"Every gift of noble origin is breathed upon by Hope's perpetual breath."

                              William Wordsworth (1770-1850)


It's the last day of 2018 and I've been searching for my muse, a creative inspiration to continue my writing.  She comes into and out of my life but, while she's still here, I will continue to share my memories (while I still have them!!!)

Around the time of our son approaching his sixth birthday, I had feelings of complacent satisfaction without breaching the threshold for smugness.  We were living in our little home, a family of three.  Work was going well for me as it was at Citicorp for Suzanne where she had begun to go up the corporate ladder in the Student Loan Business.  I had achieved my life goal of practicing medicine and she, her MBA in Finance.  Our house was fairly modest and we were living within our means.  We had good friends and, although fairly lengthy distances from our families, we kept in touch and saw them for family life events.

We felt the need for a bit more breathing space, an office, a new kitchen, and a play room for Marc's toys (that seemed to be multiplying geometrically) as well as space for playmate visits.  We consulted a young architect who designed a lovely addition for our house that would fulfill these needs.   We hired a wonderful builder, Eric Menk, a German carpenter who was known locally for building the iconic Mushroom House in Powder Mill Park.

Our little home quickly became a conversation piece with an atrium structure with large windows that let in a good amount of sun.
Despite a beautiful kitchen, playroom and an upstairs loft office with a glass enclosed balcony overlooking the playroom, it was still a two bedroom house, one for us and one for Marc.

Marc had done his kindergarten year at his nursery school in Penfield and we, with the recommendation of his teacher, Anne Lame, decided to enroll him for yet another year of kindergarten at another school as he had a September birthday.  We visited the local public school, one with a fine reputation, and spent a morning sitting in their kindergarten.  We saw bored children copying stencils and coloring pre-drawn illustrations.  The teacher appeared harried and exhausted as the class was quite large.  This prompted us to visit several private schools in the area, despite knowing that tuition would be a stretch.  We attended a parent's night at one of them, a breath of fresh air in their philosophy of educating children.  As I looked around the room at all the other parents, I came upon a woman who seemed familiar to me...it was that very same public school kindergarten teacher who sent her children to the private school!  We enrolled Marc there at The Harley School where he remained all the way through 12th grade.

The Harley School

Later that year, we had planned to travel to meet our English friends, Fred and Sue Steinberg and their children, Anne and Tom, in Martha's Vineyard .  They had done a house swap and acquired a rather large home on the island with many bedrooms, a perfect opportunity to have guests.  A few weeks before leaving, Suzanne was feeling under the weather and, after checking in with her doctor, discovered she was pregnant.  After what we had been through, this was truly a miraculous surprise.  Nevertheless, we followed through with our vacation plans which included an ocean-going ferry trip! So it was Marc's first boat trip and a rocky one for Suzanne with her morning sickness.  It was nevertheless a worthwhile journey to see our friends.  On the boat over to the island, the vessel's foghorn suddenly blew a deafening toot as we were sailing out of the harbor.  Poor Marc didn't know what was going on and ran in panic all over the deck and it took some time to calm him down. It was the same sound he must have heard in utero when Suzanne was pregnant with him and we attended the Broadway production of "Sweeny Todd" with its sudden loud industrial whistle!

As our new baby's due date approached, we had made arrangements with Marc's teacher and our friend, Ann Lame, to care for him at the hospital while Suzanne and I were in the delivery suite.  As the old saying goes, timing is everything.  Ann was in the waiting room with Marc and, as the obstetrician had told us it would still be a few hours before delivery, the nurse invited them in. (For some odd reason, Marc was intent on seeing the placenta, curious child that he was!)  As they walked in and sat down across from Suzanne, everything surprisingly proceeded in the span of five minutes and our new baby arrived in one fell swoop with Marc and Ann sitting there. Brooke Amalia Mayer joined the world and Marc was the first one to hold her, establishing a wonderful bond between them that persists today.  She was named after her late grandmother, Beatrice, with the help of the popularity in 1986 of Brooke Shields.  Amalia was her maternal great-grandmother.

As mentioned earlier, we only had two bedrooms, so Marc had to share his room with his little sister. Realizing that this was not a long term solution.  We decided to sell our home with much regret as it was a wonderful neighborhood with great neighbors.  We were to move to the suburbs and build a house in a development on a cul de sac!  It was somewhat uncharacteristic for us, having spent our formative years as a couple in a small Belgian village.  Marc was thrilled with watching the construction and knowing he'd have his own room and a huge yard.  We, too, were excited, never having lived in anything "brand new".  It was not far from Suzanne's work but, for me, a bit of a commute, particularly when I had to drive out to our satellite in North Chili.  Fortunately, we were right off the major expressway.  You could hear its roar constantly from our home but we pretended it was the "surf" as it had the same characteristics of ocean sounds!  We hired a "tree man", a Mr. Willard, who would come with his tree-planting truck and put in oaks, maples and pines which not only beautified the plot but dampened the sound.   After a few months, it looked like home!

Red Oak Lane

A nice big back yard!

Along with the new house, two kids, and a new neighborhood, I still longed for a new dog, the dog-whisperer that I am.  At the time, I was doing some part-time work as the pediatrician at the Rochester Psychiatric Center, working alongside child psychiatrists making sure their patients were staying healthy.  The Administrator was a woman who lived down in Naples, NY and, to my delight, learned she bred Golden Retrievers.  She invited us all down to see her long-awaited new litter and...you guessed it, the kids instantly saw this little pup that they fell in love with and convinced us to take her home.  "Scoot" became the newest member of our growing family.  A lovely dog, she also shed as that breed is known to do.  I used to joke that we could have made a sweater our of her hair!  But she was easy-going and bright and provided the kids with good camaraderie.  Oddly enough, she never liked swimming or retrieving very much.

Meeting the new pup

Scoot, all grown up!

We felt so fortunate to have two wonderful kids that we never even dreamed of.  Brooke kept us laughing with her curiosity and sense of humor.  Watching her grow up has been a pleasure...her kindness, intelligence, social consciousness, and love of animals.

Brooke grooming Sierra in Patagonia, Arizona

Brooke Mayer and Hal Kieburtz (more on Brooke and Hal to follow)

I will pause at this junction and wish all of my readers a happy, peaceful and healthy New Year in 2019.