“How did it get so late so soon? It’s night before it’s afternoon. December is here before it’s June. My goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon?” —Dr. Seuss
And here we are again, at the dawning of a NEW YEAR.
How can that possibly be?
Where did 2021 go to?
It feels like time passes much to quickly every year, especially the older I get.
AND, this time of year, time passes at warp speed, and there never seems to be enough hours in the day to accomplish all the extra tasks at hand, this year even more so. I’ve never felt a holiday season feel so compressed before. No sooner did Advent start it was Christmas Day.
Granted, I know it’s because Christmas fell on a Saturday, and like most people, I calculate my time available by the weekends available, so when Christmas falls on a weekend, technically you loose a weekend of time for the tasks at hand.
AND, had I been able to get an earlier start on things time would not have been chasing me down the closer Christmas got. BUT, dealing with health issues from mid-October into November certainly didn’t help with my time management. It did however force me to get a little creative with what time I had, and what I thought I was capable of achieving.
It also made me decide, I get done what I get done. If something doesn’t happen it’s not the end of the world. Did I still try to accomplish all that I had hoped to? Of course, but I didn’t chastise myself if I didn’t. That’s a huge accomplishment for me.
“Own time, or time will own you.” — Brian Norgard
In general, when it comes to weekends, I feel like there never seems to be enough time in the day to complete all the things I hope to accomplish. Maybe it’s just because I’m not moving at the same pace as I used to, or it could be because I tend to create lists that not even someone half my age could accomplish, given the time at hand.
You’d think by now I’d start to create more realistic lists instead of challenging myself with a mountain to climb and no hiking boots. Maybe my New Years resolution should be to do just that?
“We go back and forth between being time’s master and its victim.” — James Gleick
I’ve always been a list maker, and find great pleasure in crossing things off my to do list. I know that being this way is what helped me make it as a single parent. My lists were (and still are) my saving grace, especially when my Son got more involved with extra-curricular activities.
BUT, now that my Son is in college, and I hit 60 and am eying retirement, despite the goal I have set regarding establishing a chalk art merchandise business, I need to learn to be a little lighter on the to do list, and include a little more play time.
“As time goes by, you seem to weed out the things that were making your life hard.” — Tom Petty
NOW, a lot of the extra stuff on my lists is because of my goal of establishing a side business to allow me to retire with a cushion, but even with that, I have to start giving myself a break. I feel like I honestly don’t know how to just chill, unless all my tasks for the day are done, and that just never really happens. I technically just call it a day when it gets to be late and I need to get dinner.
I do take time to exercise, either bike riding or walking, and of course to do my chalk art, but other than that it’s chores or business related stuff. Don’t get me wrong, I actually enjoy some of the chores, and am inspired when pursuing the business related stuff, but my Son is a gamer, and I just couldn’t imagine sitting at a computer for hours gaming, to me that’s just wasted time.
“Time you enjoy wasting, was not wasted.” — John Lennon
SO, how the hell do I find a happy medium between Type A List Oriented Mentality and Sit Around and Game All Day Mentality?
Granted, for my Son, gaming is a form of entertainment and relaxation, and as a college-student who’s majoring in game design, I get that this is what he fills his free time with. BUT, it seems to take precedence over things that need to get done beyond schoolwork.
I just can’t do that with anything. I fantasize about spending an afternoon reading or watching an old movie or binging some show, but I just can’t get myself to do that unless I’m not feeling well.
If I don’t schedule my walk, bike ride or chalk art into my day, it won’t happen.
Now of course my Son is still in college and unencumbered by the chores/tasks involved with the world of a work full-time, homeowner, grown-up, but I know my Task Master mentality is not that of every grown-up.
I tell myself when I’m retired I’ll have more time to play, but in reality if I don’t learn to lighten up now, I’m quite sure I’ll still be filling my retired days with more tasks than play.
“The way we spend our time defines who we are.” — Jonathan Estrin
Don’t get me wrong, I’m proud of what I’ve been able to accomplish beyond every day tasks because of my time-management, and I’m grateful I actually have that skill set, but when I’m so consumed with doing that just being falls by the way side, I know something has to give.
Add to it, I am slowing down, and have to learn to accept that it’s OK to take longer to climb the mountain. AND, honor the fact that I’ve earned more down time. It’s the down time I need to refuel for that climbing, and that will help inspire me for more playful pursuits.
“Don’t wait. The time will never be just right.” — Napoleon Hill
Of course this quote is in reference to pursuing your dreams, which ironically I have used to inspire me to keep pushing, but where I stand now, I feel it’s a reflection of the fact that I need more balance between pushing and playing. AND, no matter how hard that may be for me, I know that needs to be a “goal” for me in the New Year. Especially with all the past 2 years have dumped on the world.
SO, with that said –
I hope you all have a very happy, healthy, and “time” balanced 2022.
AND – REMEMBER – “There’s only one thing more precious than our time and that’s who we spend it on.” — Leo Christopher
As the world starts to attempt to come out of it’s COVID cocoon, it’s hard to not look back and take stock of the impact this year in isolation has had on my Son and I.
For my Son, who is a junior in college, a year off-campus, with all virtual classes has taken a toll on him in a very negative way. It has induced apathy and put him into a dull state of depression, something I don’t often see with him.
As an online gamer he spends a lot of time in the virtual world, so I figured he’d adapt well, but as the quarantine lingered longer, the lack of in-person learning and time with friends hanging out on campus began to wear on him.
For me though, I’ve found the quarantine and isolation time somewhat invigorating. I love being home, but up until shut down, if I wasn’t at work, I was out running errands, and when I was home, my time was dominated by chores.
During shut down I continued to work from home, but the work was limited because of the nature of the business.
SO, the in-between time finally allowed me the luxury to just appreciate being home.
I could actually ponder things that would be nice to change, or that could use a little updating: nothing over the top like renovation, but something as simple as new curtains, or rearranging furniture.
AND, purge stuff that has accumulated over the years without the necessary time to address it.
PLUS, for the first time in years I could finally start to conquer projects sitting in limbo, like my Son’s high school graduation scrapbook and framing.
In addition, I could take time to relax and read a book, which is something I can honestly say I hardly ever do despite the fact that I love to read. Up until shut down, reading the paper or an occasional magazine article was the extent of my reading.
The most important thing though, I could finally truly focus on my writing as a business. Something I knew I had to do in order to supplement my income leading up to and during retirement, which is a must in order for me to actually retire.
Yes, this does sound like a lot to cover in any day, week, or month, but considering prior to COVID shut down I was working a 9 hour day, plus travel time to and from work, I now had 10 hours each day, 50 hours a week, and 200 hours a month to play with.
Minus of course whatever work I had to attend to, but that was never more than maybe 5 hours a day, so I still had 5 hours free, which to any mom is a like an entire day free.
Note, this extra time began to dwindle by mid-May, but any time not already plotted into my day was a gift. So I took advantage of it, and jumped head first into exploring my writing as a business.
In so doing though, I discovered monetizing a blog that is a bit esoteric, as this blog is, is not an easy feat to accomplish, without a lot of time and SEO know how, which I do not have, especially being back in the office every day since June.
Fortunately though, by the time I discovered this, I had also unearthed a new creative outlet. An outlet that I would also discover has far more potential than monetizing my blog.
And that new creative outlet turns out is something I could have never fathomed even in my wildest dreams.
Custom designed chalk creations done on my driveway.
What started out as a simple Easter greeting for my neighbors at the beginning of the pandemic has turned into a weekly thing. All it took was a passerby commenting how cheerful the creation was, noting how much we needed that, and adding I should keep it up.
Every week I tried something new, and about a year ago tried my hand with a mandala.
Once I did that I knew I was on to something. Even during the winter I continued to create new art. Of course on a smaller scale, but I would hang it in my front window and post it on the Facebook page I created to share my art with those not in my neighborhood.
I even came up with a name for my chalk art alter ego “the CHALK Charmer” which is what my Facebook page is titled.
Upon sharing my creations friends commented that some of the art would look nice on mugs, or t-shirts, or bags, etc…
This got the wheels in my head turning.
Could my creations actually become something more than therapy for me on weekends?
Could they actually become a source of income?
So I began to explore the idea and I’m happy to say I’m on the precipice of starting a business to sell merchandise.
Right now this idea is very much in it’s infancy.
Turns out the avenue I was considering, which is a third party company that would host my shop, do all the fulfillment from printing-on-demand, to shipping, to collecting payment, may not be the route I want to take.
Although this seems like the perfect route for someone who works full-time while trying to start a side business, the samples I received may look good, but upon showing my co-workers, I discovered the quality of the base product is not up to par, which doesn’t sit right with me.
I may work in the print world, but I don’t handle merchandise like some of my co-workers do, and I trust their judgement. The last thing I want is my reputation tarnished by a poor product.
In addition, this third party company would also handle the customer service, which makes me twitch, because as someone who does customer service for a living, I know how critical it is to making or breaking a business. In general the CS reviews I’ve read are pretty good for the company I was considering, but it only takes one bad experience to screw your reputation.
With all this in mind, I’m now looking into my own e-commerce site. Of course this means I need to stock inventory, do all the shipping and payment collection, but I would be able to control all aspects of the business, starting with selling a quality product I believe in.
Starting a business is not something I take lightly, and to be honest is very scary, yet exhilarating at the same time. It is also something I would not venture forth to do without guidance, which is why I have reached out to my local Small Business Council.
After all, this is my future and I want to make sure I do everything right from the very start. I don’t want to half-ass this in any way.
SO, although this means my actual shop for the CHALK Charmer will be delayed, my vision for the future is getting clearer every day. AND, after speaking with the Small Business Council, I know it’s a valid vision, which means I can look to the future with great excitement knowing as long as I put the work in, my dreams will come to fruition.
AND, the kicker is, without my quarantine time, I could have been spinning my wheels for years trying to monetize my blog and in so doing been forced to give up on the hopes of retiring at any age, let alone 65.
As for my Son, knowing he’ll be back on campus for his Senior year has been enough to help lift him out of the funk that consumed him over his year in isolation.
Come August I’m sure I’ll be going through withdrawal having an empty house again. BUT, I’ll have my new adventure to focus on, and I’ll know my Son is where he needs to be to fulfill his dreams.
PLUS, I’ll be able to look back over our year in isolation together knowing despite all the anxiety and stress we became closer, and faced the challenges together.
AND, all of this made us stronger individually and together.
Logically it would make sense to honor each sister in the order of their birth, but because Helen, my Mother, would have turned 100 this month I decided to start with her, even though she is the middle sister.
Helen and her Sisters, Kassie, Mable, Betty and Mickey were as thick as thieves as the expression goes. Even with a huge age gap between them.
Kassie, the oldest, born in 1911, and Mabel, the second oldest, in 1912, were 9 and 8 when Helen was born in 1920.
Then there was a gap of 6 years until Betty was born in 1926, and Mickey 2 years later in 1928. So Kassie and Mabel were teenagers by the time the youngest two sisters were born.
The older siblings always helped with the younger siblings, but there was no resentment. The love they had for each other was too strong. And this love grew even stronger as the sisters aged and ventured out on their own journeys. Their bond was stronger than any I have ever seen.
As individuals they were unique in their own right, paving their own paths, but united by the belief of kindness and compassion for all, something that came naturally for all of them. And something they saw first hand in their home growing up.
The story surrounding Helen’s birth is one that has become cemented in family history, and can even be considered legendary.
As the story goes, when Sallie, Helen’s Mother went into labor, her father David noted “But Sallie there are no fresh baked goods in the house.”
SO, before giving birth Sallie made sure to baked 12 small shoofly pies so David’s sweet tooth would be satisfied while she tended to the new infant in the house.
This in itself isn’t what makes the story legendary, the fact that Helen became an amazing baker in her own right proved it was in her genes from birth, and as my sister noted she was “Born to Bake.”
Of course her first teacher was her Mother Sallie, teaching her all the traditional foods unique to their PA German heritage, like shoofly pie, fastnachts, whoopie pies, apple dumplings, Moravian sugar cake, strudel, and sugar cookies (both the thin cut ones and the thick ones with icing.)
Over the years though, Helen would expand her baking skills beyond that, learning traditional foods of her husbands’ Slovak heritage like kiffle and nutroll, and experimenting with her own ideas, often entering baking contests. Unfortunately she never won though, why I’ll never figure out.
Helen was also a fantastic cook, mastering cuisine from both cultures, especially with traditional foods of the Easter and Christmas holidays, like cirak (homemade cheese) at Easter; and bobalky (poppyseed dumplings), noodles with cottage cheese and lekvaur and sour mushroom soup (machanka) at Christmas.
Plus, there were dishes not related to holidays like halupki (filled cabbage) and huluski ka pusta (cabbage and noodles), plus homemade pizza. Helen mastered the perfect thin crust and no chain restaurant or manufacturer will ever match it. Plus her homemade bread was better than any bakery.
Some of the holiday dishes are still continued in our family, which is all due to Helen’s intense desire to keep traditions alive.
Family heritage and traditions meant a lot to Helen, and she instilled the rich history of both cultures into her children, who in turn continue to share these traditions with their children.
Helen’s PA German heritage wasn’t just about food though, it was also about faith. She was raised Dunkard Brethren, which is similar to the Mennonite and Amish, and classified as Anabaptist. They don’t believe in baptism at birth, but when the individual is old enough to understand the teachings of the Bible and accept them. If a child was baptized at birth, they would be baptized again. Their baptisms took place in a body of water, not in the church.
Which is just how Helen was baptized, in a creek near their church by Reverend Harry France. As Helen told the story, after the baptism she asked the Reverend if he was Jesus. His response “No, but I work for his office.”
Clever comeback for a man of the cloth, don’t you think?
Helen took her faith very seriously, and it is what carried her through every challenge she faced through out her life. One of her most popular words of advice was “Put it in God’s hands.”
At her core was an unbreakable belief that the Lord will always see you through, and that with every challenge is a lesson to learn or stage of development to reach. You might not see it right away, but with time it will come to you. You just need to pause, ponder, and pray, “putting it in God’s hands.”
Then, put it aside, and patiently wait. As they say patience is a virtue and this is something Helen mastered at an early age.
From all accounts, Helen had a pretty normal childhood. She was somewhat quiet, and spent a lot of time with her grandfather Jonathan at his bike repair shop. He was her buddy.
She often spoke of a sledding accident, which caused her to loose a few teeth, and left a scare on her cheek. It occurred on a Saturday and when she wanted to stay home from church on Sunday her Mother Sallie stated, “If you had time for sledding, you have time for the Lord.”
Sallie was tough; there was no getting around her. Her word was the be all and end all.
Helen also noted she was called “Little Fat Hellie” because she was chubby as a kid, and had a sweet tooth. Who wouldn’t with a Mom who was a baker?
As Helen hit her teens though that nickname was far behind her. She got involved in sports and cheerleading. Playing basketball and teaching herself how to play tennis with a racket she bought for .25¢. She was also an avid ice skater.
She was a determined young woman, and didn’t let her humble home life stop her from exploring the world around her.
While in high school, Helen was also involved with a singing trio who sang radio commercials and even opened for the famous big band leader Kay Kyser. How she was able to do this with the strict rules of the church and her Mother, we’re still not sure. Must have been a covert operation on her part, although her cousin Vivian was part of the group too, so maybe that helped.
With a large extended family, Helen was very close to her cousins. The two that became her close buddies though were Harry and Charles Forry, sons of her Aunt Lizzie, who had 10 children. Both went to the Hershey Industrial School because their Father passed when they were young and it was too much for Lizzie to care for all of them. This of course broke her heart.
Later Harry and Charles became soldiers and fought in WWII. Harry was a second lieutenant in the Army Air Corps and was reported missing in Australia and ultimately declared dead on July 14, 1942, while Charles was captured by the Japanese and was a prisoner of war. Based on the story Helen told us, Charles escaped and even brought home kimonos he took en route to safety. Because of their bond, he gave two to Helen. My sister Pam has one, but where the other one is still a mystery.
Helen was a natural caregiver and it was this observation on her father David’s part that would land her at St. Luke’s Nursing School in Bethlehem after graduating from high school in 1938.
Helen would be the first Dechert Sister to leave her hometown of Myerstown to venture out beyond the comforts of her home to learn a trade.
And it was this decision that set in motion the true path Helen was born to take, that of a nurse. A profession that truly encompassed the person Helen was at her core; kind, compassionate, caring, helpful, loving, and trustworthy. If you were in need, Helen was there. She always put others first, no matter what her own personal circumstances were.
Helen started her career at St. Luke’s Hospital after graduation in 1941, working the ER, and becoming the Assistant Night Supervisor. While working one night, a handsome young man with coal black hair named Bill, brought an injured co-worker from the Bethlehem Steel in for care.
As the story goes, Bill took an instant liking to Helen commenting how beautiful she was, but added she needed to do something about taking care of her hands, which looked awful. He did however make sure to make note of her name and boldly called to apologize and ask her out on a date.
And, the decision to say, “Yes” to that date would change the course of Helen’s life. Having been offered a scholarship for Columbia University, Helen was seriously considering this opportunity to pursue a career as an obstetrician.
Not wanting to lose Helen, much to Helen’s surprise, Bill proposed. Upon popping the lid on the ring box, he said, “Well you love me, don’t you?”
And the truth was, Helen did love Bill, so she followed her heart and married Bill, never once looking back.
William (Bill) Henry Danko, and Helen were married on January 23, 1943 at the Rectory of St. Theresa’s Church followed by a reception at the Bethlehem Steel Sunshine Club in Hellertown, PA.
Early on in their marriage, Helen and Bill lived in an apartment in a building owned by Bill’s Mother Agnes. This situation as can be expected came with some challenges not just because Helen’s Mother-in-Law was the landlady, but because Agnes was not happy that her Son married a girl who was not Slovak or Catholic.
Helen did not let this get between her and Bill. Being the kind of person she was, she accepted Agnes for who she was, and understood it was part of her culture. Not that it didn’t hurt at times, especially when it came to the dislike of her PA German heritage.
Helen had already endured enough teasing and harassment about her PA German accent while in nursing school, she had hoped that discrimination would be behind her. Unfortunately it was not.
Helen knew she couldn’t change her heritage, but her religious affiliation she could.
At some point in their marriage though, Helen converted to Catholicism. This could have upset her Mother, but her response was “Well they’re good people too. They believe in Jesus Christ.”
Helen took her religious training seriously and became an active member of St. Theresa parish. Joining the guild, singing in the choir and making sure to contribute fresh baked goods for the guild bake sales. Once it got around what a phenomenal baker Helen was, parishioners would wait for her contribution so they could be the first to purchase them.
It wasn’t long after their marriage that Helen and Bill started a family. By December of 1943 their first child Carolann was born, with Georgene following 18 months later in 1945. Then Pamela in 1951 and Francine in 1956.
Much like Helen’s own family, there were age gaps between the children, but that didn’t impact the camaraderie between them.
Once children entered the picture, Helen left her job at St. Luke’s to become a full time Mom and housekeeper. Something she adored. Being a Mom took precedence over everything else.
Stopping housework to make oatmeal box houses for the girl’s dolls, or to have a picnic inside on a rainy day throwing a blanket on the living room floor and making peanut butter sandwiches with sprinkle sugar cut out with cookie cutters, or walking Carolann and Georgene to the Steel Club (miles away) for swimming lessons in the middle of doing laundry.
Agnes was not happy with Helen’s actions, she thought they were frivolous, but Helen and Bill knew the needs of the children where more important than any housework. The children would remember time spent with them, not how clean the house was.
Fortunately for Helen, she had also bonded with their neighbor Anna Killian and her husband Charlie. They would become a buffer for Helen when Agnes’ criticisms were too much to bear. They were also like surrogate Grandparents for the children.
Helen would also feed the hobos who would hang out at the picnic table in the back yard. As she told the girls, Christ is in everyone. As a matter of fact, Georgene even asked one of them if they were Jesus. Their response was “Hardly.”
Granted in these days, this would be quite dangerous, but back in the 40’s and 50’s it was a different world.
Although Helen and Bill’s apartment was not big, they made it work for their family. There was a decent size backyard where Bill built a sandbox for the girls, a large vegetable garden, and dog pen for Bill’s hunting dogs.
That sandbox was just a simple homemade one, with old coffee cans and muffins tins to play with, but the neighbor kids always ended up there, despite the fact that they had fantastic ones with fancy toys.
As my sister Pam has said, “Mom knew how to make the ordinary into something special.”
There was also a large basement that opened up into the backyard, which extended the girls play territory. Using the basement to perform plays, create an ice cream parlor, and of course celebrate birthdays.
The basement was also where Bill had his workbench where he created original furniture designs, and even had a dark room. Photography was one of Bill’s passions and he even had a little side business doing portraits.
Both Helen and Bill were very creative and playful and it showed in their style of parenting and how they approached the holidays, especially Christmas. It was most certainly a magical time.
Bill would create the most amazing Putz with real moss. It was so large it took over the living room in their small apartment. Staying up till the wee hours of the morning preparing stockings and gifts. One key feature was the Surprise Balls filled with little toys rolled up in paper that unraveled.
AND of course all the amazing baked goods created by Helen. Baked goods Helen had to be a “culinary sleuth” (as my sister Pam stated) to figure out because Agnes did not willingly reveal the recipes for the traditional Slovak dishes of the Christmas holiday.
There is also a story of one Christmas Eve when a woman and her baby showed up at the side door. She appeared to be in some sort of danger and it was believed she had gotten out of the car with her husband and somehow found the side door to the apartment. Bill took her somewhere, but where no one knows for sure.
The mysteriousness of the story, just added to the magic of the season, and further shows both Helen and Bill’s kindness toward their fellow man, which is why this story is still told today.
In 1958, Helen and Bill would find their emancipation from living in Agnes’ home when they built their own home in Bright Acres/Bingen, which was just outside of Hellertown.
This was an exciting time for the whole family, a place to finally call their own. Bill would plant a huge vegetable garden surrounded by raspberry and currant bushes, which Helen would use to create wonderful jelly and can and freeze their harvest.
As an avid hunter, fisherman and outdoorsman, Bill was in his element in this more rural setting and would decide to raise German Short Haired Pointers to be sold for hunting. He would also make his own lures for fishing and do custom designed carved gunstocks.
Helen would also learn how to prepare wild game and fresh fish. There is story that she even helped to gut a deer while she was pregnant.
Helen and Bill were green and sustainable before they were the trend. Starting a compost pile, and harvesting fresh organic produce and cooking from scratch, every day.
They would recycle everything they could, which back then took effort. Cans went one place and bottles went back to the beverage distributor.
Plastic baggies and aluminum foil were never used just once either. If they still had some life in them Helen would wash them out and dry them on the dish drainer. As Helen would say “This could come right handy in.” I have to confess I do this too. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree.
The neighborhood was the perfect place to raise a family too, all young families with children of similar ages. The women would gather for coffee klatches, often at Bill and Helen’s where they could enjoy Helen’s fresh baked goods.
AND, an Annual Halloween Parade was organized with reception and prizes to follow. The location was rotated through different households every year. A visit from Santa was also initiated with the Fathers taking turns to play Santa.
All this was done with donations from the neighborhood, each household rotating the chairperson duties each year.
When word got out that Helen was a nurse, she quickly became the nurse of the neighborhood. Never once hesitating when someone was in need.
In 1961 Helen and Bill would expand their family, with Mariann being born in March of that year, and then William, born in December of 1962.
Bill loved all his children, but was overjoyed to finally have a boy he could take hunting and fishing. He had always wanted a large family and hoped to one day have a boy.
In 1964 though, this happy household would be dealt the cruelest of fates. After a long battle with the Asian Flu, Bill would be diagnosed with colon cancer. On October 1st he would pass, leaving Helen a young widow with 4 children still at home.
Carolann had recently graduated from St. Luke’s Nursing School, and Georgene was a student at Kutztown University. Both moved home to help with the younger children; Pamela, 13, Francine 8, Mariann 3, and William (Billy) 18 months old.
Helen had to fall back on her faith and every deep reserve of strength she had to overcome her grief and focus on caring for the children.
Bill had no pension to draw on, but there was a small life insurance policy, plus, Bill had very wisely purchased Mortgage Insurance that insured the mortgage would be paid off when he died, thus providing a place for the family to live. This enabled Helen to stay home with the children for about a year and figure out where to go next.
First thing she had to tackle was learning to drive. One neighbor, Buddy Gress, was willing to help, but after neighbors started to talk, he had to step back. Helen would not only learn to drive, but also learn basic car maintenance because she learned early on no man in the neighborhood would help because their wives would not allow it.
It was sad that the neighbors she would drop everything for would turn away during her most desperate times.
Fortunately she had her sisters who were always there for her, Anna and Charlie, her friends from the old apartment and a fellow widow, Helen Barndt, who lived in neighborhood. These two would become close allies in their quest to overcome the heartache of grief and discrimination.
Throughout all of this though, Helen didn’t turn her back on her neighbors. It was not in her nature. She continued to be the kind, caring and compassionate woman she was before her loss.
Her children were her priority and she knew that neighborhood was where they needed to stay. After all it was the home she and Bill bought specifically to raise their family. And that was what she was going to do, no matter how many challenges she would face.
In July of 1966, Helen would embark on a new adventure that would ultimately help her heal and move forward. She took on the task of starting the first Health Service for students at Allentown College of St. Francis de Sales in Center Valley, which would later become DeSales University.
Over time she and her partner Jean Mauer developed a Health Service Department that lured other directors of health services from local colleges to come and tour their facility.
In the beginning she had to bring the two youngest children, Mariann and William (Billy) with her to work every day. As she told the school when she was interviewed, my family comes first.
The college community, staff and students, would become a second family for Helen. And she quickly became a second family for the students. Often bringing the extremely homesick students home for a home cooked meal. She knew the students needed more than medical care, they needed a listening ear, and someone who could “hear what they weren’t saying” as she put it.
In 1990, DeSales honored Helen with the DeSales Award, the highest non-academic honor awarded by the college to recipients who had given outstanding contributions to the development of the college through personal service. This was the first time it was ever given to an employee; it was usually presidents or monsignors.
As it was noted at the service “ Helen Danko is a living symbol of the humanity of this college. She is distinguished for the witness she gives in her life work to the ideals most highly prized by St. Francis de Sales, the college’s patron saint.
Later, in 2013, DeSales would create the Helen Danko and Jean Mauer Wellness Award, to be awarded to a student who exemplified the qualities both Helen and Jean embodied.
When Helen passed in 2015, the outpouring of love from former DeSales students was overwhelming and a reflection of Helen’s true character.
Helen would be part of the DeSales community until she fully retired in her late 70’s, after slowly cutting back her hours from 5 days to 1 day. Her reason for retirement was to turn her energy to helping care for her grandson Billy, one her son Bill’s children, who was born in 1997.
Her Grandchildren were her pride and joy. And she helped all she could with every one of them. Dustin, Georgene’s son was born in 1971, then came Ethan and Dylan, in 1989 and 1991, both Bill’s sons and later Roy, in 1999, Mariann’s Son.
She was also blessed with one Great Grandchild, Ian, Dustin’s son, who was born in 2004.
Helen also had two Step-Grandchildren, Crystal and Dale; and two Step Great Grandchildren, Damian and Aiden.
Even in her later years Helen still had a childlike and playful outlook on life, despite all she had endured over the years. It was this childlike quality that made her the Best Grandmother any child could ask for.
From playing super hero; to lion, crawling on all fours; to coloring and painting; to playing with Legos and board games; and most of all baking cookies. Helen did whatever the Grandchildren wanted to do.
One of the best stories though is the time she and Billy got locked in the laundry room until Judi, Helen’s daughter-in-law got home from work. They were playing hide and seek, and when Billy found Helen in the laundry room he pulled the door closed behind him, thus locking the door from the outside. Helen made the best of it, singing songs, playing games and telling Billy they would play make believe hide and seek with Judi, so when she came home she could find them.
Needless to say, Judi was quite surprised when she came home and found them in the laundry room. She thought they were there to greet her, little did she know they had been locked in there for hours.
As my sister Pam has said, “Mom knew how to make the ordinary into something special.”
Her family was her priority, and being able to spend time with them was what brought her pure joy. Whether it be with her immediate family, a visit with her sisters and their families, or large gatherings with the extended family, Helen would be beaming, swelling with love and gratitude for the greatest gift bestowed on her, family.
AND, if there was music playing at any gathering, Helen would be sure to be up on her feet dancing. Even in into her 90’s she would kick up her heels if the mood hit her. Especially if you put on some Big Band music, she just couldn’t resist. Something I know for a fact all of her children inherited.
The last 15 years of Helen’s life, she lived with her Son Bill and his family, but would spend weekends with her daughter Mariann and her Son Roy. In the beginning it was because Mariann was working weekends and needed someone to watch Roy, but when the weekend work stopped, Helen still came. Weekends with Grammy were something both Roy and Mariann looked forward to. Roy would anxiously wait at the window every Friday, looking for Grammy to arrive, greeting her with a huge hug and kiss.
Some weekends Carolann would join them and they quickly became the “Four Musketeers” doing everything together. With Roy as the ringleader, and Helen going along with whatever he so desired.
Being part of these two households was extremely fulfilling for Helen. She would help not just with the children, but also in the kitchen and with the laundry. I dubbed her the “Laundry Fairy” because some how she magically got everything folded and put away before I even knew it.
Helen was a pure joy to have around. She always had a kind word to say. As her daughter-in-law Judi noted, every morning before Judi left for work, Helen would tell how beautiful she looked in the color she was wearing. Didn’t matter what color it was, she always looked beautiful. It was these kind words that were the sunshine Judi needed to make it through the day. As she told her co-workers, “I have the best Mother-in-Law.”
One of Helen’s catch phrases when something pleasant and unexpected happened was “Well that wasn’t in my Star Gazer today.” Something tells me if she could read this post, that’s exactly what she would say.
Helen was a woman of great integrity, coming from humble roots, overcoming discrimination, and major loss. Never once feeling sorry for herself and always putting others first, her compassion for her fellow man can only be rivaled by one other person, Mother Theresa.
And it is this quote from Mother Theresa that I feel encompasses all that Helen stood for and what guided her every day of her life.
“Let no one ever come to you without leaving better and happier. Be the living expression of God’s kindness; kindness in your face, kindness in your eyes, kindness in your smile.”
Many thanks to my family for their contributions of stories and memories which enabled me to pull together Helen (Mom’s) story.
Please check back next month when I will feature Kathryn Dechert Krill, the oldest of the Dechert Girls.
As noted in last month’s post, I will be dedicating my upcoming posts to my Mother and her amazing sisters.
With the passing of my sweet Aunt Mickey, my Mom’s last living sister, I realized the era of the Dechert Sisters had come to an end. This ushered in a floodgate of cherished memories. Memories of days gone by when life was simpler, and family always came first.
As these memories meandered through my thoughts, I began to ponder what an extraordinary group of ladies these Dechert Girls were, and how blessed my siblings, and cousins were to be able to call them Mom and Aunt. It was at that point I knew, in my heart, it was time to honor their legacy.
So, with the help of my siblings and cousins I set out to pull together history, stories and life lessons learned from these amazing ladies.
Their legacy however would not be complete without including a little backstory on their parents, Sallie Markey Dechert and David Daniel Dechert.
So, the first in the series will be dedicated to them.
Sallie Markey (Merkey) was born February 13th, 1884. She was the first born of Jonathan Markey and Catherine Hunsicker’s six children.
Note – The original spelling of their last name was Merkey, but Jonathan had it changed because there were so many people with similar last names that their mail often went to the wrong household and that made him angry.
Sallie was a petite and feisty lady with strawberry blonde hair, who “Drove the horse buggies like a man.” as she was quoted saying.
Jonathan, her father ran a bike repair shop in Myerstown, PA and was fascinated by motor vehicles. My Mother Helen, Sallie & David’s 3rd child, was very fond of him and spoke often of her time spent hanging out with him at his bike shop. He sounded like a very kind and gentle man.
Jonathan was born July 15, 1858 and passed on March 28, 1928.
Catherine, her mother, was a homemaker, teaching her 5 girls the skills necessary to run a household: cooking, baking, sewing and housekeeping.
She was born July 11, 1863 and passed on December 21, 1944.
After Jonathan passed, Catherine moved in with Sallie and David, and their children in Myerstown.
The Markey’s were simple folk rooted in their faith, Dunkard Bretheren, which is similar to the Mennonite and Amish, and classified as Anabaptist. They don’t believe in baptism at birth, but when the individual is old enough to understand the teachings of the Bible and accept them. If a child was baptized at birth, they would be baptized again. Their baptisms took place in a body of water, not in the church.
Following the rules of the faith, Sallie was not baptized till she was 13, and as the story goes, the water still had ice on it and had to be cracked in order to perform the service.
Sallie carried her strong faith with her through out her life. Converting David Daniel after their marriage and raising their children within the faith.
Simple clothes and head coverings for the women were part of the tradition, and Sallie dressed just this way till the day she died on October 6, 1972.
She was senile by the time I was old enough to remember her, but I do remember her simple clothes and head covering. Her beautiful grey hair pulled tightly back and tucked up into her covering.
As a young woman, Sallie was prone to headaches and it was believed the tightness of her hair was the cause, but we know now she had migraines, an ailment that has run its course within the offspring of the Dechert family.
Sallie’s father would often farm out the children to help on other farms for extra money, and it is because of this that she met David Daniel Dechert. He was a travelling salesman at the time, selling cigars and saffron, and he spotted Sallie when he came knocking at the farm where she was working.
Sallie and David Dechert were married on December 22, 1910.
This was a second marriage for David, who’s first wife Agnes, had passed at the age of 34, in September of 1909. They had a son Ralph, who was just shy of his 9th birthday when Agnes passed.
A man raising a child on his own was far from the norm at the time, so I’m sure that helped spur David on to find a new suitor to help him raise Ralph.
That didn’t mean David didn’t love Sallie though. As my Mom Helen always told me, he called her his “Little Valentine” because she was born around Valentines Day.
It was widely known though that Sallie was the disciplinarian and she was very strict to include spanking the girls with a “switch” when they misbehaved. David was not fond of this and would often ask “Why do you want to spank these pretty little girls.”
I have no idea what the response to that question was, but I’m sure Sallie had quite the comeback based on her feisty character.
David, born on March 1, 1872, was 12 years older than Sallie, and based on the handful of stories that have survived over the years, was a gentle soul, who liked to hang out with the chickens in the chicken coup and smoke a cigar.
Apparently he found solace with the chickens when there were too many people visiting in the house. As the story goes, Sallie would keep a pot of coffee going on the stove all day for whoever might stop by, and she was known to drink up to 8 cups a day. As one of my Sisters noted, “this must have been her secret to accomplishing so much.”
David passed on November 17, 1955 from lung cancer, so even my oldest siblings and cousins were very young when he passed. Any memories they have are very limited.
One of the main stories that has survived over the years though was David’s fondness for gin, which was not approved by the Brethren, who were teetotalers. Add to that, Sallie was a member of the Women’s Christian Temperance Union, so if he wanted to take a nip or two, he had to be secretive.
As the story goes, he kept his gin bottle hidden in the basement and would take a nip with the premise he was getting coal from the coal bin. One of my Sisters also noted that Sallie kept her mincemeat pies in the basement and he often would slip a little whiskey in them. I’m sure those pies were a hit.
In David’s later years, he would walk into town with my cousin David (Mable’s oldest child), who would have been maybe around 5, in tow in a wagon. The purpose of the adventure was generally some sort of errand, but some how he would end up at the Bahney House, a local bar and restaurant on Main Street, and just had to have a spot to wet his whistle.
Conveniently, Mickey, his youngest daughter just so happened to work there, so it was easy to say he stopped to see her while in town.
You have to admit; he was good at covering his tracks; although I’m quite sure Sallie knew what he was up to.
The wagon David used on his excursions, is also the one used by Kassie and Mable, and later my Mom Helen, to deliver pies baked by Sallie, which she sold for .50¢ for a large and .25¢ for a small.
Turns out Sallie was a bit of an entrepreneur, not only baking for people in town, but also making noodles to sell at the farmers market, and taking in laundry, which in those days was done with a ringer washer, air dried and pressed.
It’s obvious Sallie’s unyielding spirit, determination and willingness to work hard to achieve her goals, rubbed off on the girls, because each one them lead their lives in the same way. Never wavering in the face of challenges and setbacks, AND, teaching all of us, my siblings and cousins, the importance of a good work ethic.
Baking was an art form for Sallie and a skill passed down to all her girls. Baking and cooking were at the epicenter of this family. Family, faith and food are what held them together, something that the girls would carry with them to their own families.
Sallie was also quite the seamstress and quilter, sitting with the other PA German woman quilting and chatting in PA German. Even darning socks was a chore she enjoyed doing, and would continue to do well into her senior years.
This was also a task my Mom Helen enjoyed, which made me extremely grateful. She kept a little sewing kit by her side when visiting, just in case something needed darning.
Another little habit Sallie had was keeping money stuffed in a hanker chief which she would then tuck up into her blouse. I mention this because Mable would continue this habit, although I recall she would tuck it under her bra strap. Mable very much had the same spunk too.
The Dechert’s most certainly fell into the poor category, never owning a home or car, but that didn’t stop them from living the best life possible.
The home they lived in was a classic old German style red brick house that only had heat in the basement. It would seep up through the grates in the floor to the main floor of the house, leaving the second floor quite cold, especially in the winter. It would take multiple quilts just to keep warm. Good thing quilt making was one of Sallie’s specialties.
One of my older Sisters has fond memories of coming downstairs from the cold bedroom into the warm farmhouse style kitchen with the smell of coffee and fresh baked goods in the oven. She noted our Mom Helen’s kitchen always having that same welcoming feeling.
Another Sister also remembers a breakfast treat called “eggs with a hat” which was toasted bread with a whole cut out in the middle where the egg would be dropped into and fried, then the cut out piece put on top of the egg.
The house had a second floor porch on the side that was used to hang laundry on rainy days. I’m guessing considering Sallie did laundry for people that this was often used.
They also had no bathroom, they had a chamber bucket that would have to be emptied into the outhouse. This was a chore none of the girls enjoyed. My Mom Helen noted it was embarrassing because their home was close to the State Troopers Barracks, and on some days when she was doing this task they’d be out doing their morning drill. She did her best to get the task done without being noticed.
Incidentally, turns out the State Trooper Barracks just happened to be on the grounds of what was formerly Albright College, which is now located in Reading, PA and the college my Son attends. It wasn’t until I started writing this post that I realized this. Kind of makes me think my Mom, who passed 3 years before my Son graduated from high school, helped to steer our decision toward Albright
After David passed, Sallie moved in with her daughter Mickey, her husband Forrest and their oldest Son Jimmy, who David had endearingly called “Jimmily.”
Speaking of “Jimmily”, there is on last thing to note about David.
One of my Sisters recalls David bouncing her and Jimmy on his knee and singing an old PA German rhyme called “Hubber-de-bubber-de”
The song went like this: (PA German) Hubber-de-bubber-de, unnichem bank, Hubber-de-bubber-de, owwichem bank, siss keen mann im ganse land Das hubber-de-bubber-de fange kann. (En fatz.)
Translated it is: Hubber-de-bubber-de, under the bench, Hubber-de-bubber-de, over the bench; There is no man in all the land Can catch hubber-de-bubber-de again.
Can you guess what the song was about? I’m guessing not. It’s about a fart.
Who would have know?
The PA German were noted for silly little rhymes, some of which made no sense, but they sounded great in PA German. In her later years Sallie would often rock in her seat and rattle off rhymes. I’m sure it brought her comfort.
In her prime though, Sallie was full of wisdom and some of her quotes still hold true today like:
“Don’t let the sun set on your anger.”
My Mom Helen often used this all though she would say “Don’t go to bed angry.” Something my siblings and I remember when a conflict arises.
“Stop it off when it gets ugly.”
I’m thinking these words of wisdom are very crucial now considering the state of the world.
“If the good Lord wanted you to know it, you would know it.”
This one sounds like a classic for all Parents. Wish I had known this one when my Son was younger.
Sallie would live with Mickey and Forrest and their family until her passing in 1972. As I noted earlier, she was senile by the time I was old enough to know her, but she had the sweetest smile and the most gracious heart.
She loved spending time with us younger grandchildren, and it was comforting for us to have her nearby.
Sallie’s senility kept her stuck in the old days and would cause some confusion at times, but it was never anything serious. One of my favorite stories goes back to a time when she and Mickey’s family and Kassie were visiting our house.
Sallie was sitting with my Mom, Mickey, her husband Forrest and Kassie on our carport in the early evening and noticed a light shining on a statue near our goldfish pond next to our shed. When she inquired as to who the lady by the chicken coupe was, my Mom told her it was Mary.
Her response “Mary Who?”
My Mom responded, “Jesus’ Mother.”
Sallie then responded, “Well that’s alright then.”
This transaction was repeated multiple times throughout the evening, which is why the “Mary Who?” story has become part of the family legacy.
Family legacy is a funny thing. As we’re growing up, we generally don’t think about it. We hear stories told by the elders of the family, but don’t think much about them until we too are becoming the elders.
As I’ve spoke with my siblings and cousins, we all noted we wished we had written some of the stories down because now, when we want to remember, we only recall fragments.
Fortunately, there are enough of us that we can piece together the details we each remember to make a fluid story of the Dechert Girls and their parents Sallie and David.
A key thing that has fallen by the way side though is the impact the Markey and Dechert families have left on history. If not for my Sister Georgene’s interest in our family heritage and ancestry, we would not be aware of these facts because they were never mentioned.
The Dechert Girls all thought they came from nothing, but in reality their family is rich with history.
Turns out, Issac Meier/Myer/Meyer, the founder of Myerstown, the town they all grew up, was our 5th Great Grandfather.
There are many relatives on the Dechert side that fought in the American Revolution. The girls could have belonged to the Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR), an organization considered important to most historians and ancestry buffs.
The family history is rich with important figures involved in the Protestant religious movement that left Europe because of religious persecution.
As it turns out these Dechert Girls most certainly did not come from nothing.
Not just because they actually have a past rooted deeply in the history of this country, but because at the roots of their family was a deep and profound love for each other, their community and God. They would never turn their back on someone in need, and regardless of their financial standing were always willing to help.
Their kind and generous nature just came naturally. They knew no other way; it was part of their soul.
And, when you think about it, is the very reason why they thought they came from nothing. Because as my Aunt Mickey often said when she went out of her way to help someone “It was a nothing.”
Many thanks to my siblings and cousins who helped me flush out the story of Sallie and David, and the roots of the Dechert Girls history.
Please check back next month when I will feature my Mom Helen, who would be celebrating her 100th birthday on the 13th if she was still with us.
It’s not often I’m half way through a month and lost for a theme for my post, but this month I can say I was beyond writer’s block.
I could blame it on a couple things: getting busier and busier at work, and still working an odd schedule, family crisis regarding one of my sisters which created excess stress, or even just the fact that since the Pandemic hit daily life is very limited. A lot of the same old same old, nothing new or intriguing going on, which is the case for everyone I suppose.
And the last thing I wanted to do was write about the same old same old thing like; quarantine, social distancing, or wearing masks in public and at work.
Although a post about life wearing a mask in public could very well be in the future. You have to admit; only seeing someone’s eyes is an interesting thing, especially if the eyes are truly the windows of the soul.
I have noticed that the eyes can be very telling as to the mood of the person behind the mask. We’re so use to basing mood on other facial expressions, but now we only have the eyes to go by. And surprisingly they can reveal a lot.
This observation however will take a bit more research to see if it’s worthy of an entire post.
So as the month ticked away, with nothing sparking my writing soul, I began to think for the first time since I started blogging six years ago I just might have to concede to writer’s block.
Then, the weekend the crisis with my sister hit it’s peak, my family also experienced the unexpected passing of my dear Aunt Mickey.
Although we were concerned about the situation with my sister, we had traveled this road more than once, and were just grateful she was finally in the hospital.
The passing of my Aunt however was very upsetting, not just for my Cousins, but also for the entire extended family. My Aunt Mickey was a sweetheart of a woman, who treated her nieces and nephews as if they were her own. Her home was your home too.
Some of my greatest childhood memories are about time spent hanging at her house for a week during the Summer. Our annual trips to Hershey Park with my Mom, my Brother, my Aunt and my Cousins were epic.
My Aunt Mickey was also the last of my Mom’s living Sisters and her passing became the end of era.
An era steeped with amazing family gatherings, with five sisters who stood by each other’s side through every life experience possible; marriages, births, divorces, deaths, etc. and with their Pennsylvania German heritage, from religious beliefs to the food. Oh so much amazing food.
My mind was flooded with memories the days leading up to my Aunt’s funeral.
AND, I couldn’t help but ponder about my Mom and each one her Sisters and how they impacted my life.
To say my Mom and her Sisters were unique is an understatement.
They came from very humble roots, and through out their lives never forgot that. They were all selfless, caring and giving women, who looked at everyone as equals.
Family came first. They were always there for each other, regardless of what was going on in their personal lives.
The Sisters were a tight group of ladies who cherished each other and encouraged each other’s individuality.
Looking at today’s standard this may seem normal, but you have to remember these ladies were born in the early 1900’s. Encouraging individuality was not a common thing.
Especially growing up in a strict religious household.
They were raised Dunkard Brethren which is an offshoot of the Brethren, very similar to Protestant, but closer to Mennonite because they had to wear head coverings, and drinking, smoking and gambling were prohibited.
Now, by the time these ladies hit high school, like normal teens, they started to rebel, but not in a wild way. They wanted to wear more stylish clothes, high heals, and make up. Plus be involved in things at school, like sports and clubs.
BUT, they never forgot the roots of their faith.
The oldest two, Kassie (Katherine) and Mabel, paved the way for the younger three, Helen (my Mom), Betty (Elizabeth) and Mickey (Mildred).
In addition to the restrictions put upon them by the church, they also had a very strict Mother. She was the disciplinarian, not the Father. Which in itself speaks light years as to why these five ladies grew up to be five very uniquely different women.
The more I pondered all of this, the more I realized these amazing women needed to be honored, by documenting their story and individuality.
Not just for their uniqueness, but also for the lessons we all learned from them. My Siblings, my Cousins and all of our extended families are who we are because these five special ladies touched our lives, and forever made a mark.
Each one of them imparted upon us little bits of wisdom that have guided us through good times and bad. AND, by example, showed us that family, faith and food, are all one needs to be truly happy.
So, It brings me great joy to say for the next couple months I will be dedicating my posts to the Dechert Sisters. I have reached out to my Siblings, Cousins and extended family to aid me in this quest.
After all, part of rediscovery is looking to the past, and what better time to do so.
I haven’t quite decided if I will dedicate a month to each Sister, or mix it up. This idea is a work in progress and to a point a labor of love. A way to carry on the legacy that is “THE DECHERT SISTERS – KASSIE, MABEL, HELEN, BETTY AND MICKEY.
I hope you enjoy reading about the Dechert Sisters legacy as much as I do sharing it.
And, maybe you too will start to ponder those within your family who have also left a legacy. Because, it’s those legacies that have molded each of our families and lead us to where we are now.
As the month of June was beginning I couldn’t help but ponder how fast the halfway mark of the year was upon me?
AND, I wondered how could it creep up on me so quickly when I felt like I’d been standing still since the end of March?
OR, was that precisely why it crept up on me?
When stay-at-home orders were enacted, for all intensive purposes, time stopped. What was, was no more, at least temporary, and what would be was still up in the air.
At first this was all a bit unnerving, but once I settled into the notion of being forced to stay home, and knew my work from home would be limited, I embraced this time as time to focus on my dreams and aspirations for retirement.
I was actually a bit happy to finally have the time I needed to focus on my writing and this blog.
AND, I actually welcomed this time after the hiccup I hit in January that set me back as far as my goals for 2020 were concerned.
When I first started writing this post the world was on the fringes of falling apart. Were there signs of anxiety here on the East Coast of the US, sure, but the first cases of the coronavirus in the states were few, and although I was cautiously concerned, I was trying to live life business as usual.
That all changed suddenly when the first cases showed up in Pennsylvania, the state I live in, and quickly started popping up more and more across the country.
Then the World Health Organization declared it a pandemic, and the daily dynamics changed, and so did the behavior of the general public.
Chicken Little came to cry, “The sky is falling! The sky is falling!”
Now I am certainly not trying to lessen the severity of the situation, but the behavior of a large portion of the human race was certainly one of histrionics.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s you can’t force things into being. Sometimes you just have to be, and let things fall into place as they were meant to be.
If there’s one thing I’ve
learned over the years, it’s you can’t
force things into being. Sometimes you just have to be, and let things fall into place as they were
meant to be.
You also have to learn to
“trust” that everything is as it’s suppose to be and the
universe will let you know when it’s time to make a move. As my Mother would
say “God’s time is not our time. Be
I have learned however
this is easier said than done. It’s
human nature to want to find an answer or resolve a dilemma as quickly as
possible. It is not that simple to “just
There have been periods
in my life when I truly lived this
though. Sort of working at something I wanted to change, or resolve, but allowing things to flow, not forcing
anything. And no freaking out when things seemed to stall.
I have also had times when my frustration with my
situation had my mind constantly spinning on ways to force change or find a resolve. All this did was bring on more frustration and anguish.
And, even polarization. I was so consumed by finding an answer just achieving day-to-day
tasks was daunting.
To be honest, just going with the flow can be very
challenging, especially when you
want change or an answer so bad you can taste it.
When I look back over the roads I’ve traveled thus far, I realize the times when I did just go with the flow, my life was more pleasant and actually more productive. Being fluid and flexible, even bending when necessary is what brought results.
At this time though, I find myself somewhere in
between these two.
“The future belongs to those who believe in the
beauty of their dreams.”– Eleanor Roosevelt
This is one of my favorite quotes. I used it often when discussing college with my Son, and his dream of becoming a video game designer. Having a child just starting out on the path to pursue their ultimate dream is both invigorating and scary.
I know first hand the passion
it takes to truly hang on and persevere,
even when all the odds are against you.
You most certainly need to believe
your dream is attainable. If not
it’s much too easy to give up.
When the spark to become a screenwriter ignited
in my mid-thirties, many people thought I was nuts. And to be honest, they were
probably right, but it didn’t stop me. I dove
head first into learning everything I could about screenwriting, from
concept to finished script, to all that goes into actually seeing a script
become a finished film.
It truly became my passion. I could see nothing else but the dream of seeing one of my stories come to life on the silver screen. To say I was driven is an understatement.