Little Miss Magic

It was an early summer afternoon four years ago when we proudly watched you walk across the MHS football field near where you cheered on the varsity team for four years, while we cheered along with you from the home team stands.  Each fall season marked another year of triumphs and disappointments, of moments of promise and potential, not only for the boy’s football team, but for our favorite daughter!

Suddenly four years went by in a New York minute and your life’s journey led you away from us, your friends and family to a place 35 minutes from Moorestown, a place where Route 295 north crazily turns into Route 95 south at Exit 7A – Rider University, Lawrenceville, New Jersey and more specifically a place named Kroner Hall.

We moved you into Kroner your freshman fall semester, met Stefanie and over that first year many of your dorm hall friends; Al, Mary, Christy and Meagan.   We or you did not know it at the time, but this group of like-minded young women would soon become your best friends and support system, while mom and dad, now almost “Empty Nesters” received updates via your text messages, emails and facebook posts. 

By the middle of your sophomore year, our frequent trips to Rider were replaced by cards and care packages sending you goodies and well wishes from afar.  The transition for the student and the parents was beginning to take shape.  Another year quickly passed and we moved you into the ZTA sorority house.  We met your Big and Littles, who along with the rest of your ZTA sisterhood had now become your “family”.

Just ten weeks ago, we drove you to JFK airport, watching with joy as you, Mary and Al embarked on your study broad student teaching assignment in Barcelona, Spain.  Since then we have followed your progress online back here in the States, anxiously awaiting your safe return to Moorestown, New Jersey.

However, beyond all the scholastic, sorority and educational achievements you’ve attained (and there have been many), we are most proud of the young woman you’ve become, both inside and out.  

In the year 2014, this big beautiful technologically driven world still offers great promise and potential to all those who exhibit the drive and passion for what they believe in.  Never lose track of “Your Dream”, not someone else’s idea of who you should be, what you should do, etc......

However, keep in mind, this world can be equally cold, hard, and unforgiving to even those filled with the best intentions and desires.  So when you face times of frustration and resistance (and you will), always recall the advice John Cusack’s character imparted to his adopted son in the movie, Martian Child,  “Never, never, never, never, ever, ever, ever give up”.  Okay, maybe he was quoting some British chap named Winston Churchill, but I think you get the point.  
Never let The World rob you of that unique “spirit” which makes you special and defines your place in the universe.

Try not to get too high when times are “sweet” or too low when times “suck”.  You will undoubtedly face many of these moments and cycles in the years to come.  Continue to work hard and play hard, and remember the “hard” is what makes it (the success, the accomplishment, attaining the goal) great! 

Attack each problem and challenge you face with everything you’ve got.  The world and the people in it at times may let you down, never let yourself down or regret that you could have done more, done something smarter, done something different, etc....

Use your God given talents, “learned” experiences, compassion and empathy to teach, instruct and mold the next generation of great thinkers, motivators and doers.   Unlike your mom and I who work for large nameless faceless corporations, you have chosen a career path where you will directly impact human beings.  With this noble pursuit comes a huge and important societal responsibility.  You got this!    

Above all, make the time and take the time to enjoy this life you are creating for yourself and the ones you love the most.   Contrary to popular belief and unlike the games you and your childhood friends played at UES and WAMS, there are no “Do Overs” in life.

Your next chapters remain unwritten.  The time has come for you to begin writing your story.  Your story.

Have fun and smile, be kind and love, give more than you take.  It really is as simple and as hard as that.

We love you more than life itself!

Not just on this day, but every day.  Today, we just get to call our only daughter a College Graduate!

Love and support always,

Mom and Dad
xoxoxo

 

I see a little more of me every day
I catch a little more (hair) turning gray
Your mother is the only other woman for me
Little miss magic, what you gonna be?

Just can’t wait to see….

“Little Miss Magic” ~ Jimmy Buffett

The Last Round

Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got
Till it's gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot
~ Joni Mitchell “Big Yellow Taxi”

Tax season has ended, the birds were singing in my backyard and my road bike was tuned up earlier this week…..these thoughts were foremost in my mind when I awoke on Saturday morning ahead of the persistent alarm clock, eager to head out on my first bike ride of the season.

Raising the garage door, I was greeted by a bright yellow sun starting its daily assent into the early morning spring sky.  I felt a slight cool breeze as I squeezed my bike past the two cars that filled my cluttered garage.  In this simple action, both the rider and the bike sensed a certain familiar feeling of a soon to be realized “freedom” that had long ago been forgotten by the recent snowy endless winter. 

For me, the beauty of this pastime is in knowing that each ride will be different from the ride (or rides) which preceded the ones that came before.  I typically start on a familiar path crossing Route 38 on a slight climb heading straight towards Strawbridge Lake for my warm-up.  I’m always eager to see how much foliage is visible or in the case of spring, how many trees and flowers are starting to bud and bloom.

At this point in my ride, a quick early morning sweat will typically form on my brow.  It serves to not only awaken my heart which by now was beating in time with the rhythm of the spokes on my wheels, but more importantly awakening my soul letting me know that at this very moment no demands will be placed on me.  Right now, I am accountable to no one. 

In simplest terms…..I am free.

Will I ride causally today, observing life happening all around me on the open road?  Will I take photos of what catches my attention on today’s journey?  Or will I go for the full-burn workout pushing myself as the songs on my iPod keep time with my surging body and soaring spirit? 

I bike past the Willow Brook Country Club and my thoughts quickly turn to the upcoming 2014 golf season.  Golfing is one of my many summertime activities that provide me with a brief respite from the ever maddening rat race.  Enjoying a weekend afternoon in the company of friends on a golf course always helps to remind me of what is really important in life. 

But wait…..as the course comes into view, I realize something is definitely wrong with this picture!  The blue gravel and stone parking lot is barren.  As I approach the Pro Shop, nowhere can I see golfers or hear the distinct metal ping of a powerful driver striking a stationary golf ball.  There is nothing but emptiness and a deafening silence. 

I decided to check out the remainder of the course (the back-nine) from the vantage point of Garwood Road.  Slipping through the fence with a sense of adventure of someone half my age, I hopped over the small creek.  I walked up the slight incline to where the tee box for the par three 150 yard #12 hole previously resided.  A small solitary stone marker dedicated to a local golfing enthusiast by the name of Kyle Beriont is all that remains. 

In disbelief, I come upon multiple larger than life monster trucks standing guard at what now resembles a construction site.  Silent and intimidating offering a stark contrast to the two lonely remaining once proud willow trees that lined the ‘dogleg left’ 13^th hole.  These trees now appear in distress fighting for their lives surrounded by orange plastic fencing.   The course once consisted of lush green fairways outlined by groves of mature trees.  However, today it is one big muddy field with puddles of brown runoff rain water gathering everywhere.  Razed trees are neatly arranged in piles like giant matchsticks lying across what used to be the 11^th fairway.  

After the initial shock and disgust of seeing this destruction wears off…..I am left feeling very sad.

It appears to be just another example of Big Money taking advantage of a six year recession that has seen many public golf courses struggling to maintain profitability as they ‘fight back’ trying to surpass prior year “rounds played per year” statistics, while at the same time trying to maintain budgetary expenses in a very difficult economy .  Like the continued proliferation of Wawas and Dollar Stores that seem to appear from out of nowhere littering our once mostly rural Southern New Jersey landscape…..I wonder “do we really need more tract housing developments?”

When does it all end?

Some rich men came and raped the land,
Nobody caught 'em
Put up a bunch of ugly boxes, and Jesus,
People bought 'em
~ Don Henley and Glenn Frey “The Last Resort”

With two other private golf courses already existing in Moorestown, this was an “Everymans” course.  Open to the public, this course offered a place where a family could play an affordable round of golf, a parent could introduce their child to a lifetime sport, or in my case a foursome of fifty-somethings could blow off some steam at the end of the work week, playing for nothing more than bragging rights and beers at the end of 18 holes.

I can recall a round I played here with my dad about a decade ago.  He had just retired from DuPont and I was playing “hookey” from my employer on an idyllic Friday summer afternoon.  I (finally) felt all grownup treating my dad to greens fees, lunch and beers at the end of the round.  Near the end, I remember us placing a one dollar wager on #18, a short but tricky par four with water surrounding the right side of green.  I remember laughing out loud as both of our approach shots found water.  A crumpled scorecard from that day remains in a golf photo album displayed in my family room.

Writing these words just now….I realize we’ve both aged another 10 years…..

In a few more years, this will be just one more place that I will drive by on a lazy Saturday afternoon (much like today) staring unconsciously at the big box houses and pristine manicured lawns, barely able to recall the name of the municipal golf course that occupied some 20 summers of my youth.    

For me, golf was always about being outside in the elements, enjoying nature, playing a competitive game with friends.  It was this unique mixture of sights, sounds and smells that made the game special, regardless of the final number you entered on your scorecard at the end of the round.

And in those rare moments when your body works in harmony with your brain producing a perfectly struck golf ball on a beautiful summer day that you wish would never end…….your heart can only go…….ahhhhhhh

Many thanks to the Klumpp family for providing me and my friends countless hours of chasing the little white ball and playing it where is lays.  Thanks for all the birdies, bogeys and three-putts.  I loved them all…….

This used to be real estate
Now it’s only fields and trees
Where, where is the town
Now, it’s nothing but flowers
~ Talking Heads “(Nothing But) Flowers”