Friday musings: Last one at the party

Whoa, it's been a while. With all the writing I do for my business, my own website, my corporate blog, my book edits, the guest blogs I've been posting - not to mention social media - I've been a bit lax about the original Red Slice blog. Kind of like the oldest child you forget about because you're chasing after the little ones. So sorry, bambino.

It's been a good week. I've settled on hiring my promotional consultant and my internet marketing agency for my Branding Basics for Small Business book launch, set for June 2010. I'd put a link to more info about it, but haven't even had time to create the new page off of my website yet. Ugh. Soon, chickens, soon.

But it's Friday. And my husband gets back from a week in South America tomorrow. And I'm off tonight to hear a author Eric Liu talk about applying creativity to your business. I've been in a fairly contemplative mood all week, depsite all the nuttiness.

I was thinking this week about my parents. They are in their early 80's and probably go out more than I do. Just a few weekends ago, my folks went to a bowling tournament in Toledo. My dad has had 2 hips replaced and he's bowling. Now that's committment. But there is a bittersweet side to their life and longevity: they slowly have to say goodbye to their good friends. It seems not a phone call with my mom goes by without her telling me so-and-so just passed away. In some cases, it's shocking and unexpected; other times, it's the result of a long, slow, painful health issue and the passing comes as a sweet blessing. The other day, my mom told me one of her best friends is being operated on for a brain tumor and she said, "I'm praying for her. I don't know what I'd do without my sounding board."


I thought about this in the context of my own wonderful friendships. All the folks who make me laugh, prop me up when I'm down, or just generally hang out with me. The ones who know me better than I know myself at times. The ones who saw the train wrecks of my life coming a mile away and still loved and supported me. The ones I share secrets with, the ones I have kept in touch with despite distance and time. All of them flashed through my mind this week and I thought how terribly, terribly sad it would be to watch them leave me. While I selfishly am so thankful my parents are here, and vibrant and mentally present (and that they live by themselves), my heart aches for them having to slowly say goodbye to those they laughed with, cried with, and shared secrets of their own with.

It reminded me of a party winding down. And I guess that's kind of how life is. It builds and builds as you get to know yourself and your place in the world, and the room fills with people. Some stay while others go and new ones take their place. But in the end, sadly, the party has to end. And if you stay long enough as more people start to clear out, then you are the one who sees the confetti mess on the floor, the empty wine bottles, and the dirty glasses in the sink. Is it better to be one of the first to leave the party at full-swing so you are not surrounded by the emptiness left behind at the end? I'm not sure.

But it is nice to think of it as a party, no matter what happens. Helps you remember to enjoy the fun while it lasts and cherish those who are there with you.