Danielle Steel's Blog, page 23

10/1/18, The Rose and the Thorns

 

Hi Everyone,

 

I hope you’ve had a good week. I’ve had a long crazy one, travelling again, and my travel day this time consisted of TWO, not one but TWO cancelled flights, and 7 hours in the airport between them (with my 3 dogs), only to go nowhere and go back home that night, unable to get a seat out for another 2 days. It’s fairly typical travel hell nowadays, but it sure isn’t fun when it’s happening. And I think cancelled and delayed flights happen a lot now. In the end it took me 4 days to get home, instead of one. It’s all part of the complicated landscape of travelling now, and challenging at best. I was exhausted by the time I got home.

 

Two hours after I got home, I celebrated my daughter’s birthday with her, and some friends. It was a really fun evening, and her birthday was the reason I came home. I would have swum home if I had to, not to disappoint her.

 

And the next day, I had some sad, bad news. A friend had gotten sick a few weeks ago, seemed to be coming out of it and recovering, and this morning at barely 60, he had cardiac arrest and died. I was stunned when I got the call. It just didn’t seem reasonable or possible. We had spoken only a few days ago, and emailed regularly. He was a wise, intelligent, extremely kind person who had been very helpful to me, always willing and quick to go the extra mile to help. He was a truly lovely man, with strong protective instincts. I always felt safe when in his presence, as though nothing could harm me when he was around, which is a rare feeling. I met him many years ago, and our paths crossed again earlier this year. The friendship picked up then for the past several months. I saw him twice this summer, and as usual, he was wonderful to me. We exchanged some emails, just chatting, and three weeks ago, I learned through one of my children, he was ill in the hospital, and wanted to hear from me. So I sent him an email, and we began talking. He was suffering from the illness he had, but he was determined to beat it. And he assured me only days ago that he would. While he was ill for the past few weeks, our correspondence became voluminous and intense, as I tried to encourage him, and hoped he would get well soon. I sent him some prayer cards, and some religious things, including a medal from a convent near my childhood home in Paris, and some books. And our email exchanges were fun too. I was always happy to hear from him, and he was grateful for the support. The thought that he might not get well seemed remote and unlikely, and he said that he was confident that he would. We spoke a few days ago, and he was “confident that he was getting better”. And then one morning a few days ago, that terrible call, that he had died suddenly, and was gone. It left an instant void, and an overwhelming feeling of sadness, and I was stunned all day after hearing about it.

 

The concept of birth and death has always been a mystery to me. It always struck me when I was having a baby. One moment you are X number of people in the delivery room, and minutes later, there is one more person in the room. How did they get here? It is utterly remarkable to me that a person can be added or subtracted at a moment’s notice. And similarly, death makes no sense to me at all. People you love and care about and know, see regularly or once in a while, and suddenly that person no longer exists. Game over. The person you loved or knew is nowhere to be found on this planet, you can’t talk to them or see them, and never will again. Vanished. Gone. Whatever they were doing before, and in all the places where you used to see them, they are no longer there, and you will never hear their voice or see their face again. It seems incredibly cruel, especially with our loved ones. Now you see me, now you don’t. And we are left with the memories of time shared with them.

 

I’ve often said that some books are shorter than others, and it applies to people too. Some lives are shorter, and they are not meant to go the whole long distance. But for those of us left with our memories, and not with the person we loved, it’s hard to understand why this happened, and what it means to us.  I will miss talking to my friend, and reading emails from him, the exchange of laughter, the comfort and the reassurance of his emails. Why destiny chose to make our paths cross again this summer for these few months, I don’t know. And I know even less how such a lovely person, anxious to help anyone he could, should die so young. I’m grateful to have known him, I will cherish the memories of who he was and what he shared, and the example he set for kindness in this world. He always went the extra mile for anyone.  I will miss his smiling face, and so much about him.  He said to me the last time we spoke, that he preferred to focus on the roses in life than the thorns. He was certainly a rose in many lives, and I will long remember and cherish his friendship.

 

Have a great week!!

 

love, Danielle

 

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9/24/18, The Wild West

 

Hi Everyone,

 

I hope you’ve had a great week since the last blog.

I’ve had some startling news about my home in San Francisco. It’s in a quiet residential neighbourhood, across from a park. Children play in the park, and there is a dog park for the neighbourhood dogs. And it’s a pretty peaceful place.

 

After several years of drought, and two years of ferocious severe fires, mostly to the North of the city, in Sonoma and Napa counties, the wildlife in those counties are being driven out, looking for food and water. Deer show up in unexpected places, and I was just made aware of a most unsettling situation. Coyotes have been seen all over the city, in parks and on city streets, and have now made their home in the park across the street from my house. People who work for me have seen them, neighbours have warned me, photos have turned up on Facebook of two of the coyotes walking past my house, and they were seen yesterday, standing in front of my home, watching people come to work in my office, one of whom comes with her dog. A few months ago, a friend of one of my sons was surrounded by coyotes in the Presidio (a big park that used to be an Army base, and is now where children play, people picnic, jog, and play baseball there. The coyotes were ready to attack her, until someone heard them, and her screams, and chased them away.) I have very old frail dogs at my home in San Francisco, who are living out their final years peacefully, and I am frightened for them and the people in my home, with coyotes “casing” my house, and living across the street. (We have no idea how many there are, if they are part of a pack, or are protecting their young, which would make them more aggressive).  With really bad luck, they could attack a person coming in or out of the house, or a dog being walked on a leash.

 

We called local animal control to ask for their help, and they said that there are so many coyotes in the city now (people I know have seen them in neighbourhoods all around the city), that they do not try to remove them, or move them somewhere else back to a more natural habitat, and they don’t come to help when coyotes show up on your doorstep, as they have on mine now. It certainly makes San Francisco a dangerous city, with animals who pose a real threat (to people and domestic animals), running free around the city. They suggested that we keep our dogs indoors and be vigilant. And that’s it.

 

Sadly, one of my closest friends lost a beloved dog to coyotes earlier this summer, in broad daylight in the morning, in another part of the country. Other friends have lost their pets to them in the country near San Francisco. And we have them around our home in the Napa Valley, and keep a close eye on our dogs there. I heard them there this summer, howling terrifyingly close by, seemingly moving in for the kill of some animal. Similarly, friends who have homes in Lake Tahoe, in the mountains, have a problem with bears hanging around their homes, and two have had bears break into their houses (and empty the fridge), and sleep in their beds.

 

We aren’t dealing with bears in the city of San Francisco yet. But the proliferation of coyotes in the city is a frightening prospect. It’s a sad situation for wildlife animals seeking food and water, but it can be a tragic one with potentially dangerous animals running unchecked in the city with children and small dogs and even adults at risk to be attacked by animals that present a real danger to small dogs and humans. Apparently, they’ve taken several cats in my neighbourhood.

 

It certainly is the Wild West, and very scary!!!

 

Stay safe, and have a great week, full of happy moments, good times, and good surprises!!! (not scary ones!!)

 

love, Danielle

 

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9/17/18, Hard Day, Hard Week

 

Hi Everyone,

 

I hope you’ve had a good week, even a great week, as the Fall gets off to a busy start. For those of you with children, they’re all back in school by now, which keeps parents busier than ever, until the new routine is established, and things settle down. And with after school activities, and sports teams, kids keep us running. Mine are all working now, and I miss those school days (which will sound crazy to you if you’re dashing all over the place with your kids, and wish they’d hurry up and grow up. Beware of what you wish for!!! They grow up all too soon!!). I still have one child living at home, and am grateful that I do!!! Every time she leaves her laundry stacked up in the front hall, or borrows something and forgets to return it, or loses something, or scrambles my schedule, or uses enough towels to stock a hotel, I remind myself of how lucky I am to still have her at home!! Any time I spend with her is precious.

 

I had a busy, mostly fun week last week, doing errands, catching up, seeing friends for lunch and dinner. I love having friends in for dinner after the summer, to catch up with how everyone’s summer was. I worked, and finished an outline I love, for a future book, and can’t wait to get to work on it. And I’ll see a few friends this week too, and visit two of my daughters, and see 2 more of my kids by the end of the week. Seeing my children will be the best part of the week. And I have a bunch of real life stuff to do too. A visit from the plumber to solve a (lack of) hot water problem, a trip to the vet to check the dog who was sick this summer (Blue, with a disk problem), put away summer clothes, call to complain about the kitchen chairs I ordered 5 months ago and haven’t received yet. Ordinary real life housewifely stuff, which I enjoy. I got a new TV for my bedroom, after 14 years, which is fun. I like the rhythm and routine of ordinary life, I find it comforting and relaxing to get small things done. Last week had its serious moments too, I went to the memorial service for a dear friend, and unfortunately will go the memorial service of a beloved brother in law this week. The friend was 91, a famous fashion designer (Hubert de Givenchy, an extraordinary really lovely man). My brother in law was in his late 80s, and like a real big brother to me since I was 16. Both men led good, full, long productive lives. I will miss them both, but it is in the order of things for people to leave, and both lived well lived complete lives to a great age, which makes their leaving easier to accept.

 

But all in all, I know this will be a hard week for me. However well I fill the time, whatever I do, there is a date that I cannot escape every year, the anniversary of my son Nick’s death, by suicide at 19. He was greatly, great loved, and still is, and I miss him always. Talented (in writing and music), brilliant, funny, loving, compassionate, he was a wonderful boy, suffered from bi polar disease all his life (I first noticed it before he was 2, and knew it for sure by the time he was 4 years old). We did everything we could to help him, but he finally just couldn’t live with the pain anymore. He led a remarkably full life in his short time, he already had a successful career in music (writing lyrics and music, and lead singer in a successful band). And even after his death, his life has been a blessing to many people. We established two foundations in his honor, to help mentally ill people, and the homeless. Thousands of people have been helped in his name. There is a blessing in even the hardest events in our lives.

 

Anniversary dates are always something of a mystery to me. The person we loved, and still love, is just as gone the day or the week or month before and after the anniversary. But there is a power to the anniversary date that is like the sound of a gong that reverberates through you, shattering the silence and any sense of peace. It’s as though your body knows what day it is as well as your heart. Life stops for me on that day, as I try to remember him without remembering how terrible that day was. Birthdays are easier because there are happy memories of that day. There are no happy memories of the day someone you love dies, and it pierces your heart like a spear. The memory of that stops you in your tracks. I try to keep it as gentle as possible, but there is no easy way. This will be the first year that I won’t be with some of my children on that date, but I will see them the next day. There is something particularly terrible about losing a child, at any age, because it is not in the correct order of life, and a child is part of you from the moment they are born until you die, and they take with them a part of you that belonged to them.   So it will be a hard day. It always is. Some years are harder than others, and some years are a little better, and gentler. You never really escape it, but some years whatever you do to soothe the pain seems to work, distraction, seeing friends, whatever you do, and you get through it. Other years you barely crawl through it. The pain begins to dim the next day and gets back to something you can live with, but you hit a wall on those days, time stops, and you are catapulted into the past to a day you wish had never happened. In a way, the agony of that day doesn’t make sense, because they are just as gone before and after the day, and you learn to live with it…..but the actual anniversary date is particularly tough. I dread it, but one gets through it. It comes at you like a heat seeking missile, headed straight for your heart.

 

He was an incredibly sweet boy with a huge heart. Forever missed, forever loved, for the rest of time.

 

Have a great week!!! I hope it is a gentle week for you, with lots of happy moments in it.

 

all my love, Danielle

 

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9/10/18, Remembering

Hi Everyone,

 

I hope that September/back to school/the fall is off to a good start for all. I’ve been busy, travelling, writing, visiting my children. It’s fashion week in NY, so my daughters in that industry are busy, working 15 and 18 hour days.

 

But I can’t see this date, and not think of what tomorrow represents to us, what it means, and what happened on September 11th, seventeen years ago. An unforgettable time in our country. A time of fear and heartbreak, and as far as I know, one of only two times when this country was attacked on home turf by hostile forces, at Pearl Harbour in 1941, and in New York and Washington, DC 60 years later on September 11. Almost 3,000 people were killed in the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center in New York, and the Pentagon in Washington, and with the crash of the third plane which took off from Newark, and was headed for Washington to create more destruction there.

 

The most heartbreaking image that haunts me from that day, were the people who knew there was no way out, and leapt out of the World Trade Center, some of them holding hands, to their death below. It was an unspeakably awful moment in our history. And like the entire country, I spent the day glued to my television, incredulous at what I was seeing, as the World Trade Center crumbled. The country was badly shaken for months afterwards, it changed the nature of air travel forever, and showed us that it was possible to attack us in our own country, at home. Nineteen terrorists created unimaginable destruction and havoc, on a day we will remember forever. It’s difficult to imagine now that it happened seventeen years ago. In many ways, it still seems like only yesterday. The children who lost parents on that day are adults now. But the memory remains as vivid as ever.

 

As happens at the worst of times, heroes emerged on that day, helping to save others, and in many cases sacrificing their own lives. We remember them now, with love, gratitude and respect, and pray that nothing like it ever happens again.

 

Have a peaceful week as we honor those we lost and remember that day,

 

love, Danielle

 

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9/3/18, “In His Father’s Footsteps”

 

Hi Everyone,

 

Happy Labor Day!! I hope you’re enjoying the long weekend, and can catch a last few days of vacation before life gets serious again, and the summer is officially over!!! I’m happy to be spending it with three of my daughters.

 

To get the Fall off to a good start, I have a new book coming out tomorrow, “In His Father’s Footsteps”, about three generations of a family. The book begins with the liberation of one of the concentration camps in World War II, the first camp liberated by the Americans, and among the survivors are a young man and young woman who met while in the camp, Jakob and Emmanuelle. Both managed to survive, and had lost their entire families. In the days after the camp is liberated, they try to figure out where to go next, having lost everything during the war (he is Austrian, she is French. He was from a wealthy family in Vienna, who lost everything, she is the daughter of a seamstress in Paris), their friendship blossoms into love, as they help each other get their bearings and regain their health after their shocking experiences. With the help of an American refugee organization, they marry and immigrate to New York, where they are sponsored by a man who owns a garment factory, where they are given jobs, and a tiny apartment on the Lower East side. They arrive in New York with nothing, and work hard. They are ultimately exploited by their sponsor, struggle to survive, get better jobs, and are determined to make a good life for themselves in America, and they have a son, born in New York. With some good breaks, and the fruit of their labor, they meet a kind man who gives Jakob a good job as a runner in the wholesale diamond market. With time, hard work, integrity, and diligence, Jakob carves out a solid career, eventually owns a business, and provides a good life for his wife and son Max. They are cautious, sensible, persevering people, deeply affected by their wartime experiences and all that they lost, and serious about the solid, successful life they have built since. Max grows up in more fortunate circumstances, thanks to his father’s hard work, and he in turn is affected by his parents’ view of life, and he wants a very different, all American life, and to take advantage of the opportunities and education he has been fortunate to have. A Harvard graduate, he builds a successful business of his own, and leads a fast track life, very different from his parents’ lives, who are cautious and always concerned that another war could sweep everything away again. A visit to the camp his parents survived, and where they met, gives him new respect for his parents, and better understanding of what they’ve been through and how far they have come. Max’s own life choices in turn affect his own children, who want to make choices very different from his, and have yet another perspective than their father’s and their grandparents’ view of life. It’s about family ties, about how each generation differs from the last, but with a common theme of hard work, integrity, and the importance of family, as they strive to leave their own mark on the world, each in a different way than the generation that came before them. It’s about how we evolve, and what we learn from our parents and grandparents, and how we come to understand them as we mature, no matter how different we are.   I hope you enjoy the book, and each generation in it as the story unfolds.  I’m excited about the book and hope you will be too. I always love the poignancy and compassion of family sagas, as we watch a family build and grow, as each generation tries to improve on what was achieved by those who came before them.

 

I hope you have a wonderful Labor Day, and that you have some wonderful memories of the summer to carry you forward into the fall. Have a great week!!!

love, Danielle

 

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9/13/18, “In His Father’s Footsteps”

 

Hi Everyone,

 

Happy Labor Day!! I hope you’re enjoying the long weekend, and can catch a last few days of vacation before life gets serious again, and the summer is officially over!!! I’m happy to be spending it with three of my daughters.

 

To get the Fall off to a good start, I have a new book coming out tomorrow, “In His Father’s Footsteps”, about three generations of a family. The book begins with the liberation of one of the concentration camps in World War II, the first camp liberated by the Americans, and among the survivors are a young man and young woman who met while in the camp, Jakob and Emmanuelle. Both managed to survive, and had lost their entire families. In the days after the camp is liberated, they try to figure out where to go next, having lost everything during the war (he is Austrian, she is French. He was from a wealthy family in Vienna, who lost everything, she is the daughter of a seamstress in Paris), their friendship blossoms into love, as they help each other get their bearings and regain their health after their shocking experiences. With the help of an American refugee organization, they marry and immigrate to New York, where they are sponsored by a man who owns a garment factory, where they are given jobs, and a tiny apartment on the Lower East side. They arrive in New York with nothing, and work hard. They are ultimately exploited by their sponsor, struggle to survive, get better jobs, and are determined to make a good life for themselves in America, and they have a son, born in New York. With some good breaks, and the fruit of their labor, they meet a kind man who gives Jakob a good job as a runner in the wholesale diamond market. With time, hard work, integrity, and diligence, Jakob carves out a solid career, eventually owns a business, and provides a good life for his wife and son Max. They are cautious, sensible, persevering people, deeply affected by their wartime experiences and all that they lost, and serious about the solid, successful life they have built since. Max grows up in more fortunate circumstances, thanks to his father’s hard work, and he in turn is affected by his parents’ view of life, and he wants a very different, all American life, and to take advantage of the opportunities and education he has been fortunate to have. A Harvard graduate, he builds a successful business of his own, and leads a fast track life, very different from his parents’ lives, who are cautious and always concerned that another war could sweep everything away again. A visit to the camp his parents survived, and where they met, gives him new respect for his parents, and better understanding of what they’ve been through and how far they have come. Max’s own life choices in turn affect his own children, who want to make choices very different from his, and have yet another perspective than their father’s and their grandparents’ view of life. It’s about family ties, about how each generation differs from the last, but with a common theme of hard work, integrity, and the importance of family, as they strive to leave their own mark on the world, each in a different way than the generation that came before them. It’s about how we evolve, and what we learn from our parents and grandparents, and how we come to understand them as we mature, no matter how different we are.   I hope you enjoy the book, and each generation in it as the story unfolds.  I’m excited about the book and hope you will be too. I always love the poignancy and compassion of family sagas, as we watch a family build and grow, as each generation tries to improve on what was achieved by those who came before them.

 

I hope you have a wonderful Labor Day, and that you have some wonderful memories of the summer to carry you forward into the fall. Have a great week!!!

love, Danielle

 

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8/27/18, Fun Movie

 

Hi Everyone,

I hope you’re enjoying these last days of the summer

I went to a fun movie last night with one of my daughters—-another daughter had read the book and loved it. I had seen a trailer for the movie, which didn’t seem too exciting, and didn’t do it justice, but I went to the movie anyway, to enjoy an evening with a daughter. I rarely get time to go to the movies with them, they work hard and are busy, and when I travel to their cities to see them, I want to spend the evening talking to them, and catching up on their news, not sit in a dark theater—-besides which, we’re all often so tired from working that we fall asleep in a movie theater!! Last year, a whole group of us went to a show when we were in Las Vegas together—–and the entire row of us fell asleep!!! It must be a family trait!! But we didn’t fall asleep at the movie last night—-we loved it!!!

      

We went to one of the fancy new movie houses with reclining seats (and we were joking about how fast we’d fall asleep in big comfortable seats in the dark!!!) We got popcorn, candy, a pretzel, soda, and all the snacks we could carry, and I was quite startled to see that by state law, all the food sold at the concession states how many calories they are!!! Ugh, if I’m going to indulge myself at a movie, I’d rather not know, but I can see the value of warning people of their calorie intake as a precaution for their health. Since I don’t get to the movies very often since I write at night, the calorie listing was new to me.

The movie we saw was “Crazy Rich Asians”, and I loved it. Lots of fun, good dialogue, good characters, the movie took place in Singapore, Shanghai, and was a romantic story. I won’t tell you how it turned out, but I had a great time, loved the movie, and would see it again in a flash. Since I see most movies on planes when I travel, I hope it turns up on the airplanes soon so I can see it again. So if you are looking for a fun movie to celebrate the end of summer, go see it before life gets busier again after Labor Day. Have a great week!!

love, Danielle

       

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8/20/18, Bea, an Amazing girl!!!!

Hi Everyone,

 

Well, here we are, the last week in August, Labor Day is just around the corner, and we have ‘done’ the summer. It has whizzed past us, I hope you had lots of fun, some time off and vacation, and I hope you’ll look back on this summer with a smile. And now we have all the excitement of the fall to look forward to, and our winter plans and projects, in some cases moving at high speed after the summer. I am definitely back at work, and working on new books.

 

I wanted to bring you up to date on something I have mentioned to you before, that happened in my family two years ago. My nephew’s daughter Bea, my great niece, was 17 years old then, a beautiful, happy normal high school girl. She grew up in France, her father is French, her mother American, and they had just moved to Brussels, Belgium from Paris a few months before. Her passion was, and is horseback riding, her dream was to ride in the Olympics. And her great love was, and is, her beloved white horse Deedee. She has two older brothers, lots of friends, and lots of dogs. A very normal high school girl. And in March of 2016, her whole world changed. The family went to Florida for Spring vacation, she stayed back a day, and set out to join them in Florida a day later. She went to the Brussels airport for her flight, and Fate intervened in a very major way. It was the morning that terrorists blew up the Brussels Airport, right as Bea was in line to check in. We know now that she was standing roughly 3 or 4 feet from one of the bombs when it exploded, and was one of very few survivors in the terminal. It is a total miracle that she survived at all. Seven months in the hospital of fighting for her life, dozens of surgeries ensued. Hundreds of people were killed and injured. She was in a military hospital along with the other survivors, because the wounds inflicted were so extreme that they were only comparable to wartime military injuries, not civilian ones. She was burned over much of her body, was paralyzed in the days and months after the explosion, her body was full of shrapnel, pieces of metal in the bomb designed to do the most damage possible to a human body, and she lost both legs. It’s the kind of horrifying event you read about in a newspaper, but doesn’t happen to anyone you know. But it did, to this very wonderful 17 year old girl. And the future looked dark indeed for a while.

 

We don’t have any idea how any of us would respond to catastrophic events in our lives. Something like that is beyond imagining. She was in a medically induced coma for a while, to alleviate her suffering. And what not only survived but flourished and grew to incredible proportions was her extraordinary spirit, her strength and determination, not only to survive, but to have an amazing life in future anyway. She has a family who adores her, and a remarkable mother who exhibited strength and courage that kept Bea fighting for her life at the darkest times—and fighting for the quality of her life.

 

One of the most touching moments in her early recovery was when she was finally well enough to sit in a wheel chair and be rolled outside for some air. Her horse trainer had arranged with Bea’s mother and the hospital to bring Bea’s beloved horse Deedee to visit her. The video of it reduced me to sobs, and still does. Bea was sitting in her wheel chair, not expecting a visit, as Deedee was led out of the trailer, was instantly alert, and literally raced across the parking lot to where Bea was sitting, found her, licked her face adoringly, and then rested her head on Bea’s shoulder. It was pure love between those two. It was a turning point for Bea in her recovery. A day or two later, she was cautiously lifted into the saddle on Deedee, and held there so she wouldn’t lose her balance and fall, and thus began the next chapters of Bea’s life, with courage, love and hope, and a fierce determination not to be beaten or destroyed by what had happened.

 

Fast forward the long arduous film of what came after: 7 months after the attack she left the hospital, and went back to school for her last year—-she was greeted at school by a standing ovation by the entire school. People around the world, who didn’t even know her, had been praying for her. In June, 15 months after the attack, she graduated, and walked across the stage in braces to accept her diploma. She went to rehab at a Naval Facility in San Diego and is still there. Next month, she will start college. And for many months now, she has been training for the next Paralympics in Tokyo. Three countries invited her to ride for them. They first contacted her after someone had seen the first meeting with Deedee at the hospital. She is hard at work now training for the Paralympics, and getting ready for college. Her determination, and extraordinary spirit are astounding—-how can any of us complain about the problems and disappointments and minor inconveniences in our lives when you see someone like her, determined, strong, never lagging, never giving up, absolutely passionately determined to have an amazing life, and not be robbed of her youth and spirit and courage about life. After college, she wants to start a company for sports equipment adapted for people with physical impairments. She has feeling in her legs and back now, and her hope is to continue to improve. She has worked incredibly hard in the most grueling way at her recovery, and is continuing to do so.

 

Bea is a remarkable girl. Extraordinary, remarkable, incredible, courageous, amazing, don’t even begin to describe her. And her remarkable mother has fought alongside her every inch of the way. Her whole family cheers her on. I am stunned by her courage and spirit. It’s breathtaking.

 

What she has done and is continuing to do is an inspiration to anyone who knows her or hears about her. She didn’t quit, she didn’t give up, she didn’t complain about her losses, she held on tight and celebrated what she did have, and reached out toward all the good things and good times and victories that lay ahead. Her whole life is a victory, a shining example to others, an inspiration to us all. She is the best of what a human being can be faced with incredible challenges, and she has met them all.

 

I am in awe of this brave nineteen year old girl who has faced the unthinkable and is turning it into a victory every single day. And this is only the beginning of what I know will be a shining life that will continue to dazzle and inspire us all.

 

Have a great week!!!

 

love, Danielle

 

 

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8/13/18, “Nostalgia”

Hi Everyone,

 

I hope that all is well with you, in these final weeks of summer, which as always has sped by too fast. Whooosh!!! And it’s over!!! Although it’s still boiling hot everywhere I’ve been. I’m ready for fall.

 

I used to love the months of my children’s summer vacation, and I never used to work/write during the months of their vacation from school. Now our time together in the summer is short but very sweet, as they lead their busy lives in other cities, and none of them have the long French/European style summer vacations, so we seize the time together when we can. Typically, I have a week together with my kids every summer in July and a long weekend with ALL of my kids together in August, so we start and end the summer together. We wait for that time together with great anticipation every year, and like all good things it goes by too fast, but that time is very precious to me, and to them.

 

We just had our end of summer weekend together, and we were a small group this year for the first time. One was away, in Texas, one recently moved to Austria, another had a wedding to go to so he came a little late to the weekend, another had another party to go to in another city so left early, and yet another was unable to come, so there was a lot of coming and going, and late arrivals and early departures, and we were a ‘normal’ sized family for once, and some of the children arrived staunchly for the whole weekend, even from far away, and we had a great time, although we missed those who were absent.

 

Many, many years ago, when I was first married, my husband loved the Napa Valley, had spent a lot of time there, and he wanted to find a home there for us to spend summers and weekends when we could. I’m more of a beach person, so I wasn’t as crazy about the location as he was. I’m also not a drinker, so the charm of the vineyards was lost on me. We looked at some houses, rented for a couple of years, and finally found an old farm that was a quaint funny old place, built in 1857, with a number of farm buildings on it, and an old house. It was a working farm, run by a 95 year old woman, who had kept the place running and in good shape, whose heirs were several nieces and nephews who didn’t want the property so they were willing to sell it. By coincidence, I met the heirs through our church. The property had buildings for the animals, and we didn’t know then how many children we’d have, and that we’d eventually have 9 of them. It had vineyards on either side, but none on the property, which didn’t matter, and it was quiet farm and wine growing country then, about an hour and a half out of the city. I wasn’t crazy about the place, but it had ‘possibilities’, and my husband had a vision (a lot of them!!) for it. We bought it (despite my misgivings) and turned all the farm buildings into living spaces. A small horse barn (big enough for 2 horses) became a small and very cute guest house, a milking shed for the cow became a playhouse for our kids. We built a tree house for them too and a play area. We turned a water tower into a tiny 3 story, 3 bedroom house with a bathroom and no kitchen. We kept chickens in the chicken coop (and bought a pig who wandered around, and loved the orchard where she could eat all the fruit she wanted). And a small shed that housed rabbits became another small guest house, which we still call “the rabbit house”, the ranch manager’s house became a small house with two bunk rooms and two other bedrooms and a kitchen. And the main house, also with 3 small bedrooms became our main house, for my husband and myself. It became a family compound with all the buildings close together. And there was a big Victorian barn for farm equipment. The first thing we did was add an old fashioned porch on the main house, which was my husband’s idea and gave the place a lot of charm, and is still today the favorite gathering place for the whole family, with the main kitchen, and we put a long, long table on the porch for dinners on warm nights. We put a swimming pool where there had been a planted field, and years later a tennis court for by then our many kids to use. A bike shed, vegetable gardens, and my husband planted vineyards on every inch he could, which proved to be a wise move in later years. Our children, who own the property now, since their father passed away, support the property now with the grapes they sell for wine. And I put picket fences everywhere to keep the kids from wandering off when they were little, and keep our many dogs safe too. For years, it was a happy, healthy place of freedom and happy summers for the kids, and weekends through the winter. I grumbled about it at times, and we worked hard ourselves to improve the place and keep it up. Our weekends were as much work as play, or more work, as we continued to work on it. It still looks like the working farm it once was, and is wonderfully old fashioned and quaint—and very much unlike the fancy homes that have sprung up in the area over the years. Now there are restaurants and shops, tourists, and city dwellers that spend weekends there. And our place still has the look of a granny’s house and old farm. We bought two small neighboring homes bordering on it, and the old farm has grown, but it hasn’t changed. And as our family grew, it became the perfect place for them to bring their friends when they were teen agers, and spend their summers barefoot, in the country setting, for their entire youth and now as adults. The property had some very old trees on it, to provide shade, and we planted some more, which have grown into beautiful old trees while our kids grew up.

 

Fast forward the film, and we still have our funny old farm, it’s a wonderful place for our children to gather now as adults, and bring their friends. The ones who live nearby use it more frequently, and those who live across the country, come once or twice a year, and always come on our August weekend. There are hundreds of family photos framed on the walls in all the buildings, of all the good times we have shared there. And it is the perfect counterpoint to our busy city lives, our stressful jobs, and all the pressures in our lives. Going to the old farm is like a trip back in time, to their childhood, and also to all the history on the farm before us. We have so many memories there. The kids have kept everything just as it was when they were very young, their rooms are the same, their childhood treasures and mementoes are still there, so many of our family memories, and the main house that my husband and I lived in is unchanged. Whereas once I complained about ‘boring summer months there’, it touches my heart to go there now, and revives precious memories. I realized this weekend that I was younger than some of my children now when we bought the place and started working on it. We’ve owned it for well over half my life now, and I’ve finally come to love it. It took a while!!! For a long time, it was a muddy, dusty, old farm with blazing heat in summer, and some very wet cold winters, while I wished we had a beach house, and missed my own childhood haunts in Europe, which seemed so far away, although the Napa Valley does look a lot like parts of France and Italy. It remains a major grape growing/wine making area, and it became ‘fashionable’ and popular along the way. But our old farm doesn’t look fashionable, it has charm and warmth and is quaint, and shines with the love lavished on it for so many years.  I realized this weekend that we’ve had our summer reunions there now for more than half my life, and somewhere along the way, love for that old place snuck into my heart. It was my husband’s favorite place on earth, and he eventually retired there, and in the many years that passed, he imparted his love for the old farm to all our children, and I’m so glad he did. He was right all along (and I remember now how my heart sank when I first saw the place. It was not on my dream wish list at the time to own an old farm!!! I missed Paris and my life in Europe—but that came back into my life much later anyway) He would be so proud to see what good care his kids take of the farm now, how well they run it, how much they love it, and how well they use it, share it, and enjoy it, and what good shape it’s in. His dream has been preserved.

 

It was a huge trauma for all of us last fall when the fires raging in the Napa Valley came within 500 feet of the buildings on the farm, all entirely wood Victorian structures. All their childhood memories and mementoes of their father are there, and one of my sons heroically drove up and rescued hundreds of photographs from the houses and drove them to the city. I have since had them copied for all the kids. And miraculously the property was spared by a last minute shift of the winds, and the flames stopped just short of the houses.

 

I only go there twice a year now myself, once in the Spring with one of my daughters, who runs it with her younger brother, and I take a crew of men and women to help us repair, refresh, replace, repaint, and do everything we need to, to keep it fresh, looking good and running smoothly. They keep it up all year, but I am the very willing head of the janitorial committee to help keep the place looking beautiful and loved. They use it all year, but once a year I run the energetic spring cleaning. I end on a Friday, and they spend the weekend there with their friends to start the summer. And I only stay there once a year myself for our August long weekend reunion. It is always very nostalgic for me to go there, hundreds of memories crowd into my mind, of them as little kids, and their father, and our life there. It was his vision and his dream which brought the farm into our lives. What an incredible gift and legacy for all of us, especially our children. I walk the same paths as I did then, walk into rooms which still look the same, and remember all the love and laughter and warm times we shared there. He was very artful about it, which amused me less then and makes me laugh now: the flatbed truck he gave me one year for my birthday, because he needed it on the farm—-the vintage trucks he collected, and occasionally pretended to give me, although he used them and I didn’t….the flock of goats (that I did NOT appreciate at all), and the tractor I gave him. There was no glamour there, just wonderful family life with a lot of barefoot children running in the grass, free of their city life for a whole summer. It was a fantastic experience for us all.

 

It amazes me to realize how many years have passed, the children have grown up, and we still have the farm. It has been a lasting blessing in our lives, for more than half my life. I eventually got the beach house I had dreamed of, and sold it after 15 years, the charm of that wore thin, and the children preferred their farm life, and the freedom to run around there, instead of the beach. So the farm won hands down in the end, and now I cherish my days there at the end of every summer, as we follow our old traditions, and make new memories there every year. It is a piece of our history which I cherish and am profoundly grateful for. It makes our long weekend together there every summer extra special, and where once the children were in our home, now I am a grateful guest in theirs.

 

I hope the end of your summer will have special moments for you, and will brace you for the long winter months ahead.

 

Happy end of summer!! Have a great week!!!

love, Danielle

 

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8/6/18, Late night thoughts…..

Hi Everyone,

 

I hope that August is off to a good start, and that you are managing to have some vacation time off from work. In France, and a lot of Europe, EVERYONE takes the month of August off….or the month of July. But in August, shops and restaurants are closed, businesses close, and just about everything shuts down. In the US, many people take their vacations at other times of year too, but not in Europe. In some ways, it makes things easier, because everything closes down at once—but forget trying to get any business done in August. And my month of August is usually quiet too. I’m moving around a fair amount this summer, meeting up with and visiting my children, and getting some work done in between. But the pace slows down, even for me—-getting ready for September and renewed activity as life speeds up again.

 

I still keep the same late hours even when I’m not writing, habit, I guess, I’ve been a late night person all my life.

 

As I sit at my computer, three signs meet my eye, that I usually see first thing in the morning, when I answer the emails that arrived during the night:  “Wake up every morning as if something wonderful is going to happen.”  “Do More of What Makes YOU Happy”, and “Miracles DO Happen”. They get my day off to a good start, and my thought in the right direction. And then there are two other signs next to the desk where I write: One says “There are no miracles, there is only discipline”, and the other says “What hath night to do with sleep?” And a tiny one “Courage is not the absence of fear or despair, but the strength to conquer them”. And some others that I love on my office walls: “Only a life lived for others is a life worthwhile” attributed to Albert Einstein, “It is the history of our kindness that alone makes this world tolerable”, Robert Louis Stevenson, “Courage is the power to overcome danger, misfortune, fear, injustice, while continuing to affirm inwardly that life with all its sorrows is good.” And “We cannot do big things, but only small things with an immense amount of love”, Mother Teresa. And one of my favorites “Nothing is impossible to God.”

 

The late night hours are always a good time for reflection, about what you’ve done, are doing, are planning to do, wish you’d done, and wish you hadn’t done. Late, silent nights are also a time when fear sometimes runs rampant in our heads, as we worry about what could happen. I can whip some of those thoughts into a real terror, with no one to talk me down and reassure me. I am a worrier, not a warrior!! I take things too much to heart, and sometimes people’s unkind words or acts cut through me like a knife, and at other times I worry that I may have been thoughtless with others and hurt them. I have a hard time understanding and dealing with people who are intentionally mean and hurtful. And we all run into people like that at times, or work with them, or know them. I am always shocked by people who intend to be mean, it’s like having someone throw sand in your eyes, it makes no sense and is hard to understand. I detest cruel people, and abuse, and those who want to hurt you, but those people do exist and it’s best to steer a wide berth around them, and avoid them at all costs, as best we can. It’s particularly unfortunate if you have a mean boss, or someone at work that you have to deal with every day who is determined to hurt and torture you, and make your life miserable, someone who abuses their power that you have to put up with. As a writer, I lead a fairly isolated life, so gratuitous meanness and injustice always come as a shock to me. It’s always a surprise. But then the kind people we meet make up for it and make our lives a better place. And fortunately, there are many good and kind people in the world. And good is more powerful than evil.

 

I have a nice one on my walls in Paris too (many of them in fact since I collect sayings and quotes I love). “A good marriage is the union of two good forgivers”. Forgiveness is so important in life, when deserved, and sometimes even if not. And bad, unkind people are to be avoided. Sometimes people we know, even good friends, become sour about life, or bitter, and are out to hurt others, and sad as it is, it is best to let those people go. Jealousy is so often the cause of people’s meanness to others, and is at the root of some very unpleasant actions.

 

I particularly love the quote of Anne Frank’s, the young girl who was taken by the Nazis in Holland in World War II as a teen ager. “I still believe in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart.” Powerful words to live by and hang onto.

 

I hope that all is going well for you, and I hope you’ll have a wonderful, extra special week, with good things happening to you!! You deserve it!!

 

With so much love, Danielle

 

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