My Thoughts Are With Honey

A dear friend and special lady who is in the midst of watching her poor, dear mother slip away from this earth, asked me today, “I don’t know how you did it, Jenny.” And the answer after almost four years is…you just have to. Of course, I wanted to hold her tightly and prepare her for the storm ahead, but no one can prepare another for the loss of a mother.

Honey Lowenthal and her dear mother Frieda Epstein 2009.
Frieda passed away on Sunday, January 30, 2011.

When you lose your mom, you lose the safety net to your existence. There is no one in the world that can replace the love and unfaltering devotion of a mother who loves her child. We as mothers know the endless bond that evolves over years and years of memories. Those same memories are what haunts you every day you live apart from the loved ones you say ‘goodbye’ to throughout your life.

Today, my sorrowful friend said, “I feel like an orphan.” And I know exactly what she meant. When your parents die, that invisible shield that they provide disappears and for the first time in years…you realize you really are on your own. Even with a full life, filled with family, children and friends, you feel alone in a world where you have no one to call ‘mommy’ or ‘daddy.’ After all, we are first the children of our parents. It is a difficult relationship to let go of because it ultimately defines who we are and what we have become.

In the days ahead, my friend will need an army of loved ones around her to let her know that though her mother is at peace from this world, her friends and family can provide a comfortable, yet temporary replacement until she finds her new feet again. She will walk again. She will love again. She will feel joy again. Time will teach her that she can weather this horrendous change and experience new joys without the admiration and love of her parents watching over her. I know this…it is in us all.

Now is the time to comfort my weary friend. A task that is not easy for many of us. Words are difficult to find and in the trying, we sometimes hurt the person they are meant to serve. This type of grieving and pain deserves a strong shoulder and an open ear more than a pearl of wisdom. To my friend, I wish peace in the days ahead and may the wound in your heart grow smaller and smaller as the world around you continues on. Take your time to heal, no need to rush for those who might yearn for your immediate happiness…it will come in time. Just wake up each morning, get out of bed, and make it through the day. Days will turn to years and new memories will prove that you can make it without the warm, soft, loving gaze of the sweetest woman you’ve ever known.

Gussy Skates

Many of you know that I have a six-year-old nephew named Gus who is autistic. He is a happy, beautiful little boy that brings us a lot of joy even though he can’t say the words, “I love you.” One of his favorite activities is ice skating. He is a member of the Baltimore Saints, which meets every Saturday morning at the Reisterstown Sportsplex. As I choke back the tears to tell you, this is a truly special organization that gives hope to parents and special needs children who want to give their children a glimpse of what is possible.

Each year the Saints have an important fundraiser to keep this life affirming organization afloat. It is an amazing cause…one so special that I am reaching out again this year to ask for your help.

Come out and skate with your families on Sunday, March 6 at the Reisterstown Sportsplex from 12:30pm-2:30pm. Or if you are not up for skating or have other plans on that day, please sponsor me and my family with any monetary donation that makes you feel most comfortable.

You can send me a check made out to “Baltimore Area Special Hockey, Inc.” to:

Jenny Dansicker
8 Indian Pony Court
Owings Mills, MD 21117

I will send each sponsor a receipt for your charitable donation for your tax records. And if you are one of those people that I see every day of the week, you can just hand me your check, and I would be happy to add you to my pledge sheet with sincerest appreciation.

Please consider this event or pledging for this amazing cause. The special needs children and the parents in this program are really an example of how to make the best out of life when you are faced with seemingly insurmountable obstacles.

Thank for taking the time to read this blog and consider donating to the cause.

Happy Thoughts, Jenny

Believe...Don't Control

Jan. 2011: Henry in his pajamas, black wig, red feathered boa and pink guitar.

Believe in your children while you fight the urge to save them from their own mistakes. That’s my epiphany of the week. Here is how I came to it....My son Henry is a lot like me when I was a child. He is gentle, quiet, and yet curious about life and the world around him. Sometimes I watch his innocence and wonder whether he will ever make it in this sometimes-challenging world.

Most recently, Henry was invited (by himself) to a birthday party at a local movie theater with nine other 8-year olds. I am not used to letting Henry do things on his own for two reasons: one, he is a momma’s boy who has never wanted to stray far from me. He is not the kind of child who asks to go on play dates at the homes of other little children. And to date, when asked to come to a friend’s house, it was always implied that I would be coming along as his security blanket.

And two, because I am an overprotective, controlling mother who believes it only takes one second to change my good fortune in life and have weighed every decision about my children’s comings and goings on that fact.

But, when Henry was asked to go on his own, I was of course, nervous for him and for me. I forced myself to believe in his ability and his confidence to make good choices. Of course, I called the mother of the party to instill the fear of death in her if anything should happen to my child while in her care, but for the most part, I challenged myself to believe.

Henry went without much ado while I waited nervously to see his handsome face. He was happy and confident that he had separated from me and enjoyed his independence with his friends. I told him how proud I was of his maturity to do things on his own. And I feel strongly that good parenting is the ability to believe in our children whether they are eight or 38 because they must experience the world to learn how to navigate it alone without us. I felt that we both learned a lesson about approaching how we live our lives.

I hope all three of my children know in time that my love will always support them wherever they go in life. But that when they are adults, my love should never be an excuse to hide from the important decisions in life – no matter how big or small – they must face those questions alone and hopefully with confidence. I want to believe in my children and help them make good choices with timely guidance, an open mind and a forgiving heart...and not by controlling every situation that arises from now until they are 18. God help me. I believe.

Parenting 101 - The Indicator Light

If there is one thing I would wish for as a guide to raising my three children, it would be an indicator light that goes off when I am doing a good job parenting. We worry and we try to do what is best for our children, but seldom is there a clear sign that our efforts will pay off in happy, well-adjusted, independent children. Am I right?

Henry and his good friend Shoshi.

Most days I feel like I am walking blindly in a sea of expectation and doubt mostly self-inflicted. But there are moments, rare, but present moments, where I am caught off guard by the pleasure of watching my child unexpectedly fly off on his own.  Today I got a glimpse of who Henry is at his core and what I might be allowed to take some credit for in his journey to adulthood.

Backstory…Henry has always been a gentle giant with a very easy-going disposition that makes him last in every line, but first in everyone’s heart. He is an easy kid to love, but I often worry about his gentle nature living in a world where capitalism and aggression might swallow him whole. Still, I have always known that I can’t push my son to be anything other than what he is…a nice boy who cares for others naturally and without prompting.

Henry and Shoshi sharing a sweet little chicken moment.

So, last night I was watching all three of my children at ice skating practice through the plexi-glass panes as I do every week. Audrey always spinning and twirling in her own little Audrey world, Stanley always striving to be the best and the fastest...and Henry as usual listening attentively to the instructor and proceeding at his very own deliberate pace. All unique. All good.

As I stared through the glass, I notice a new girl on the ice, blonde hair, big blue eyes, maybe a year or two older than Henry, but only about an inch taller. I watched her make her way towards Henry, I noticed how her eyes shot up, than down, and up again, trying to get his attention. Then it happened…I watched my son include this new and slightly shy young girl into the class. Like others before her, she found a friend in Henry. A story I have been told by others, even teachers many times before, but this time, locked behind the glass partition, I watched and observed it for myself. With ease Henry engaged the girl on her terms and befriended her with such subtlety...making her instantly happy and comfortable. I felt proud to be his mother.

Though my parenting was not directly responsible for this moment, I felt a part of it and it gave me hope in my ability to nurture what is best in my son. A soft, compassionate, gentle soul, who listens, yet has the voice to capture the heart of a stranger. My job as his parent, I think, is to try to understand who Henry really is and encourage him to be the best person he can be without trying to change him into what we might want or expect him to be. I guess it's also important to be present in the lives of our children so when a moment like this does occur, it doesn't pass us buy.

Stay true to yourself Henry…and don’t bend to please anyone’s will to break you or disrupt you or even change you…you are a good boy, and I am so happy and proud to be your mommy.