POV – Page 2 – Carlo Centeno

Un Point de vue Parisien

A Parisien Perspective

Keep an open mind. It matters when traveling to any destination that piques your curiosity. Whether it’s a neighboring state/province or an altogether different country, it requires elasticity in learning, appreciating and understanding. An open mind can open doors. It means possessing a willingness to be out of your comfort zone. And as you stand in your discomfort, your perspective may need adjustment or refinement. This is where you take the initiative to help others see your perspective. Naturally this requires staying attentive for the different position[s] you may encounter. It’s fine to disagree without being disagreeable.

Remind yourself that having an open mind tames the myopia that limits one’s ability to think beyond your horizon of possibility.

Eleven days in France this July made for quite a vacation. The coming of the summer Olympics turned Paris into a mixed bag of barricaded icons and walkways, detours and traffic. Our Parisian stay covered 3-days; not enough time to explore Paris, but 3 is better than none. A first visit to another city is as they say, an experience. Visually, aurally, olfactorily you cannot ignore the architecture, the gardens, the people, the language, the aroma of freshly baked croissants, baguettes and coffee and so on and so forth.

After Paris the next 8 days would be at Vignon-en-Quercy in southwest France. Fortunately, our flight back home was 7-days before the opening ceremonies, and we knew that more walkways and some open areas would be cordoned off. Predictably, logos and phrases proudly reminded of The Games coming to town. Still, nothing took away from our sense of discovery in this storied city.

We had thoughts of visiting the Louvre, Musee d’Orsay, among others, but the detours and limited access made it a physical and mental marathon. We were close to those museums and other points of interest as they say, but we unabashedly savored our quiet time in the Jardin des Tuileries, a garden between the Louvre and Place de Concorde. In a more relaxed pace, we enjoyed le Jardin and even took advantage of the cafes within the grounds. Seeing the Louvre from a different vantage point provided an unrushed appreciation for a 231 year old institution.

La Place de Concorde/ courtesy Paris Visuel

We thought of adding 2 more days in Paris. It would’ve certainly helped my french conversation, but other plans were already in place. Entering any business or eatery, saying bonjour is always helpful and polite. After the greeting, the most frequent words from my mouth were, Ou est…? or quelle direction est…? or pardonnez moi, sommes-nous pre du……? and of course, merci, bonne journee!

Our first morning, we walked to a bistro teeming with commuters and visitors. The menu on a sandwich board offered something we liked and I recognized: Petit déjeuner supreme ! Deux œufs [au choix] avec jamon et frommage, cafe, jus d’orange, baguette, croissant, confiture de fraises et salade. [Supreme breakfast! Two eggs any style with ham and cheese, coffee, orange juice, baguette, croissant, strawberry jam and salad].

We sat outside among a cluster of small tables and chairs, but the waiter advised we sit inside, though not far from the open frontage. Il y a trop de fumee dehors. Too much smoke outside as cigarettes are popular in most of France. It was a perfect time to watch people going on with their lives: scooters and bicycles carried a cast of characters; small french cars ruled the streets alongside taxis and Ubers, motorcycles and buses.

Based on our waiter, my french was so-so. Monsieur, I speak and understand english; you do not have to speak french…. Ouch. Polite but humbling. As he turned toward the kitchen order-window, I mumbled, C’est dommage….it’s a pity, too bad.

*“The solution for your industrial waste.”*

NEXT VISIT: a week in the town of Vignon-en-Quercy [….See you there.] !!!

Longevity: a marketing epilogue

Business anniversaries come in all shapes and sizes. From time immemorial to the present, reaching a milestone is no small undertaking. However, longevity holds court when milestones are reached. This firm has made it to a century this year. Not bad, I’d have to say. I’ve been told it’s easier to start a business, but for any business to last 100 years, many know that it takes so much more. Timing and context along with ever-changing regulations all play a part in how and when a company such as ours, survives.

Our founder knew a lot about financial services, marketing, politics, people and more. He had to. It’s been said that having your hand in the business is always helpful. The company that he built and championed 100-years ago resonates today. I do see it, I and others can feel it, and clients believe in it. With this celebrated longevity, continuity becomes an important detail. All businesses–and most everything else that involves a relationship–relies on a level of continuity . Within that dimension, decorum should take its place: professionalism, product knowledge, listening skills, integrity, patience and persistence. In other words, they exist to help and guide an advisor and his/her client[s].

Circa 1970-71. Corporate headquarters located in Springfield, MA

Those businesses which deal with less tangible items have unique challenges to contend with. Legal and financial come to mind, 2 professions that rely on the knowledge and expertise of specific disciplines and the myriad of details associated with them. Corporate law, trusts, distribution of wealth/inheritance, risk management, time horizons, asset allocation, and so forth. In many ways, most of what’s being explained is co-dependent with intangibles, in particular the usage and positioning of emotions. “I think in the near/long term, you’ll feel better about the decisions we’ve made.”

Emotional Fluency

I’ve written about emotional intelligence, the notion of having a sense of emotional ownership for a product or service. And that’s perhaps the largest challenge for professionals who deal with things conceptual: make the client/target customer have a type of yearning for what he/she thinks will be delivered. Is it assurance, confidence, a faith that the right thing is being described and can thus be delivered? Like emotions, what’s presented to us–typically on paper with pie charts, graphs and other visuals–can strike a chord. Favorable? Unfavorable? Neutral? Clouded with doubt and perhaps dissonance?

D.J. St. Germain ad, circa 1950s/60s approx.

A lot of what the firm does is nurtured with conversation, which in time delivers a moment where a customer understands the value associated with a concept in spite of doubts, second guessing and dissonance. Conversation and education are closely related, where the latter is woven into the former with words and phrases that mortals like us can comprehend.

During the stock market crash of 1929, this nascent investment firm stayed true to its mission: to provide a long term strategy that sticks to fundamentals and to include companies with good leadership, sound balance sheets and potential growth. I have no specifics on just how D.J. St. Germain & Company, Inc. managed to survive that crash, and this eponymous firm is still on its feet. Not everything perished in what was a collapse of the economy and financial institutions. People found something to believe in with this firm–and other businesses– in spite of the terrible scenario that played out in 1929.

What happened in those 100 years?

Mayor Dominic Sarno of Springfield, MA declaring April 9th, the 100th day of the year, as St. Germain Investment Management day.

We’ve experienced 17 U.S. presidents taking office; 6 wars that took place, then the COVID pandemic, and there’s a telescope unlike any other that reveals things many of us can’t understand let alone describe let alone see. And yet, St. Germain stuck to one maxim across those years: Do what’s in the best interest for our clients. The firm’s longevity is certainly based on experience, knowledge and an understanding that trust is the foundation for a relationship to succeed. The integrity of St. Germain’s professional relationships span several generations since its founding in 1924. And it continues to this day. Saying that clients are the assets that matter is more than a marketing tag line.

Investing is a journey that cannot follow a straight path. Your financial journey is defined by inextricable parts of your life: family, health, profession, current life stage, financial goals, your motivations and priorities, and more. Like many long-standing relationships, so much goes into that span of time that we still ask the question, “What’s the secret to your success and what makes it sustainable….?” Sometimes all those details get lost in the process of making things happen. However, as it happens, one word collectively binds together those particular details. Work.

Take it Outside.

“We love seeing your boards. They’re easy to read and understand. And they don’t have a lot of clutter.” Anecdotes are not reliable scientific measures, but word of mouth in this day and age does mean something to marketers and more specifically, consumers.
The number of drive by impressions depends on the location of your outdoor advertising and the message presented on that billboard. It helps further if your board stands next to a major route that’s regularly used all year long. By extension, we have a second board similar in concept, but unique in their message and brand positioning. So, we have 2 boards that run in rotation, that second board can be anywhere so as long as it’s on a major highway or road that allows for a reasonable “read.”

A lot of commuters, vacationers et al travel our interstates. Traveling north/south is straightforward from 95 in New Haven, CT then onto 91 right up to the Vermont border. The east/west channel has the Mass Pike [I-90] running from Boston all the way to eastern New York.
Springfield, MA’s DMA [Designated Market Area] is ranked 117 in the USA. A short 25 minutes south, is Hartford, CT, ranked 32.
We do get our share of leaf peekers, second home owners in Berkshire County, skiers, campers, fly-fishers, boaters, hikers and everything else in between.
Demographically speaking, there are key influencers and decision makers who receive multiple impressions from our messages.

But before any creative goes up, the content must deliver a quality that most viewers/drivers can identify with. As a brand, our firm is known for long-term strategies, growth, and a conservative though modern approach for reinforcing our values. And since our beginnings, we’ve positioned all our clients as the assets that matter; it dovetails with our commitment as fiduciaries: we work in the best interests of our clients.

We also partner with non-profits, either through co-branding or providing the space for however they’d like to use it. Any proposed artwork needs to go through our compliance & legal departments.

Travelling on the highway, you have less than 1/30 of second to glance at a board, any board. We make every effort to keep the content simple and relevant to our clients and prospects. There’s been no shortage of motifs to help develop content. For example, there’s been a growing interest with Artificial Intelligence [AI] and the world of autonomous electronics or in applications that can generate text that’s easy to read and perhaps follow. ChatGPT comes to mind. It’s not unusual in our digital world today where you could make it easier to create something that refines efficiency while reducing complexity. Robotics come to mind.

When I started here , I pushed for the use of white space because it adds, 1) a sense of calm & order, and 2) it delivers a focus that helps you think . David Ogilvy, the grandmaster of modern advertising and branding had a tenet that has stuck by me: “Keep it simple and do not talk down to your audience.” A lot of outdoor advertising is overloaded with info. It’s as if the strategy is to include as many benefits and attributes in the space. I refer to it as putting 10 lbs of “stuff” into a bag that holds only 5 lbs. Simple concepts are often better if only because they can be easier to remember.

As an advertiser, having the right message delivered in a relatable way means the viewer can identify with what’s being said. The short version of that is referred to as having “emotional ownership.”

When a message strikes a chord or brings forward a detail that sticks with you, then emotional ownership has taken hold.

Edvard Munch

At the Clark Institute of Art, running through October 15, 2023, is a special exhibition, Edvard Munch: Trembling Earth. Munch’s [“Edward Moonk” Norwegian pronunciation] most recognizable, iconic painting is The Scream, and yet not many know of his other work which includes a number of self-portraits, prints, figure portraits and landscapes. The latter showed what he felt was a confluence of the natural world and humankind where nature provided a kind of salve that the urban environment could not deliver. The artist’s life contained the antagonists that shaped many of his creations: life and death; love and loss; loneliness and despair. And yet Munch as a protagonist, allowed us to see and feel the very antagonists that took hold of his deepest emotions.

I found the entire exhibit revealing if not eerily prescient. The power of art in all its forms allows us not to just see the obvious, but to measure if not ascertain a) what behooved the artist to produce his/her creation and b) what, if anything, draws your attention to the work?

While some of his paintings hint at Vincent van Gogh [1853-1890], there is a quality that makes Edvard Munch’s work stand apart: his apotheosis of anxiety, loneliness, longing and loss are indicated by the despair of his faceless human subjects. The hue of uncertainty and angst lay claim to troubled souls.

This is one of my favorite paintings, Woman with pumpkin. Its creation captures a sense of lost, and longing. The symbolism could be anything and everything. The pumpkin and the dark green color appear as if a person is holding the woman. Note the 3 “fingers” on the hip of the woman. In fact, the greenery next to the woman appears to be kneeling on its right knee, its “left leg” bent with a “foot” planted directly on the ground close to her back. Hence, the figure is resting its head on the woman’s right shoulder, the right arm suggesting a pillow.

Whatever you see and however you see it, Munch is a captivating study of conflict. You can feel it in most all of his works. The landscapes provide contrasts regarding our ability–and inability–to co-exist not only with the natural world, but with each other. Put another way, Munch is caught within an insatiable push-pull between the Id [our instincts], the Ego [reality] and the Superego [moral strength].

No artist lives a life of order and predictability. It’s contrarian to that world of creativity and expression. Munch’s self-portraits demonstrate a fortitude within his reality that dices with the likes of the Id and the Superego. Each of us deal with the instability created by our instincts and morality, our actions and reactions, our angst and distress. In a way Munch’s paintings brings form to what is often abstract yet palpable, even vicarious and visceral.

Lunden Center at Stone Hill

Gatherings

Margaret Keller, Executive Director, CATA.

The Community Access to the Arts [CATA] never ceases to amaze me. Meaning, “the creativity of the artists at CATA is as exemplary, as contemporary and modern as Art can be.”

The artistic abilities of the artists represent their thoughts, feelings, perspectives and perceptions that are as strong and perceptible as any artist could produce. From perfunctory to profound, energetic to calm and peaceful, there’s a lot being expressed on the gallery walls. Perhaps the most obvious being that these artists–with disabilities–clearly have a way to express themselves.

Margaret Keller with Gary Schiff, Managing Director, October Mountain Financial Advisors.

This opening recently took place at the Lichtenstein Art Center in Pittsfield, MA. Most all of the paintings are for sale and the artists receive a commission for their work. This show has much to offer, from small to very large using water color, oil, acrylic and ink painted onto wood, stretched canvas and other media.

Outside the gallery a boatload of rain just kept falling. It felt undeniably tropical; one moment a light rain, then clear, only to have everything overwhelmed by yet another heavy cloudburst accompanied by thunder and lightning. And yet the space was filled with friends, parents & guardians of some of the artists and loyal patrons and art lovers.

Kelly Galvins, CATA Program Director-Agency Programs

The success of any such gatherings depend a lot on those in charge of details. We all know that. I think of automatic watches, and how well they function. This organization [CATA] is akin to the dynamic of the workings of an automatic watch, self-winding [automatic] or hand winding only.

The sum of the parts is greater than the whole. Every component has a function, some specialized while others are a standard part to ensure the watch’s ultimate function.

Every person shaping an event matters. Just as an automatic watch requires springs, levers, meter wheels, escape & driver cannon pinions and so forth.

There needs to be synchronous relationships for many things to work: autos, machines, computers, watches and people. That quality of interaction relies on the functional capability of the part [or persons] involved.

Kara Smith, CATA Program Director [studios].

Meanwhile, there’s all this chatter about Artificial Intelligence [AI] with its potential and failings. Regulation? Monetization? Security? A bona fide threat to originality or something that can expand our ways of learning? In the end–and I do mean “The End”–nothing matters more than the people we love and care about, the interactions in gatherings familiar and new, and the way we contribute to being in the moment.

Some 2,000 Feet Up

The exhilaration of flying in a single-engine airplane does a number of things, the most obvious is that the ground looks so expansive. Terra firma goes on and on into the horizon. Scale and size play with my sense of proportion. What you see on the grounds looks small and yet other things seem larger than they should be. The length of highways, the relative size of cars, trucks and trains look as if they were sectioned off a sizeable display meant to be “an artist’s interpretation” of a grand project years in the making.

The Oxbow on the Connecticut River in Northampton, MA

Traveling 2,000 feet above ground at speeds between 65-80 [kn] knots, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed. There are places you know of, but from the air, they take on a different personality.

Somewhere not too far from the airport and still in MA.

Like a jig-saw puzzle on a larger-than-life scale, parcels and tracts of forested land interconnect. All appears as it should [at least through my eyes]. My friend and pilot, MP, knows more about the puzzle laid out below us. And he knows a helluva lot about flying. He’s been a pilot for well over 30 years. I don’t fly and know little of it, and it becomes more than obvious MP is very much in tune with all details pertinent to flying. Knowing weather conditions leading up to “GO” is de rigueur on his pre-flight checklist. It’s quite a checklist to say the least; I’d have to Google the majority of the terms on that lengthy list for obvious reasons.

The French King Bridge connecting Erving and Gill, Massachusetts.

On the ground, I have a better sense of familiar locations, most of which I’ve driven to many times already. From the air, that’s another story. Having a large river coursing across the county helps to some degree. For example, the French King Bridge is a familiar site on the road, even before actually seeing it, but from a small plane, the road looks slightly unfamiliar. Still, there’s no mistaking that beautiful cantilevered bridge.

The Seven Sisters of the Holyoke Range. There are 3 large “hill tops” in the center. Trace the left of the photo to the horizon, and you’ll see the other 4, the furthest one wrapped in a haze, but still visible.

As many of you know, the Seven Sisters are the 7 colleges located in the northeast USA. Since their founding, all are women’s colleges, but for one that went co-ed [The Harvard Annex–now Radcliffe College–is part of the Harvard Radcliffe Institute]. They remain highly regarded and very competitive schools to this day.
The 7 [in order founded] are:
o Mount Holyoke College 1837
o Vassar College 1861
o Wellesley College 1870
o Smith College 1871
o Radcliffe College 1879
o Bryn Mawr College 1885
o Barnard College 1889

Looking south to the towns of Deerfield and Sunderland, Massachusetts

That bridge is the same one in the photo above.
You can see Mt. Sugarloaf left of center.

Spending about 2 hours in the air was a terrific experience. Knowing MP and the way his plane is maintained, I felt confident and safe in his hands. It was a rare, bright day with a slight on-off breeze, perfect for just about anything. My time at 2,000 feet allowed for some R&R, plenty of “what-have-you-been-doing” conversations, a chance to take some photos and moments to appreciate all that is life, the good and not so good, the rote and the unpredictable.

Hope all your journeys are safe….

Ibid

Without feeling, you short-change yourself from seeing.

A Spoiler Gift: You have to zoom in to see it, but in the first photograph, a red stop-light stands on the main road up the mountain.

Tell me, what do you really see…?

You can think of this post as part 2 of my previous one from about a week ago, Get Closer…but then again, what follows could be superfluous. Maybe. Each day our routines bring us across many familiar and common objects. Most of what we see barely catches our attention. A lot falls under the category of habitual repetition. However, if you put that aside, the what you see notion can change things.
Anyway, regardless of which direction you’d be walking, you can’t miss the humongous rock, pictured above, resting next to a dirt road.
On a 1:1 scale, the size of this layered wonder from the Ice Age is massive. Around it and along the road, various homes stand proud against the various inclines, each perhaps possessing an immunity to gravity. Most of these homes have been around for generations.

“Follow the road up to the top. The vista is spectacular and you’re likely to get some good photos. Look for Pebble Rock Hill Road and keep an eye out for an unusual pebble.” Pebble’s eponymous road invites travelers to head to the top. Of course while on route, I had to stop to examine that “pebble” leaning into the hill.
I’m reminded of Jonathan Swift’s timeless novel, Gulliver’s Travels. In his travels, our protagonist arrives at Lilliput where all its inhabitants–are quite small–whereas Gulliver is a giant. This timeless tome may not be a summer beach read, but the arc of the novel deals with the vagaries of politics, the human condition, scatological humor and so forth. BTW, the first and only time I heard the word “scatological” was during my high-school sophomore class in English Literature. Go figure, and go Google it. The novel was first published in 1726.

Yes, this large home has a “stream” running beneath it. A natural source for white-noise to help the household sleep, perhaps?

Close to 300 years later, I’m certain Mr. Swift would have asked the same question of us: tell me, what do you really see…? There are times when I’m so immersed with what’s in front of me that when the camera comes up, I’m [figuratively] within the frame, scanning everything in the viewfinder.
Where’s the photo? Why am I taking a photo? What do I feel? What do I see if anything other than the obvious? Is it worth it?

Back in the days of film, most of us were pretty frugal with the number of frames we took of any subject let alone everything else. There were no preview screens to check on what you and the camera were looking at. Polaroid cameras were the analog version of confirming a shot. Today, however, it seems that others have already introduced their own Polaroid type-instant films.
When I developed my B&W films, the process felt rote at times, but when the timer was close to the end, my feelings changed to ones of anticipation, expectation and doubt.
It’s different today, obviously, but waiting and expecting to see B&W negatives had an aura all its own. Time gained additional significance because each frame was but one slice of a moment.
Digital capture can take the same slice of time, but it also offers instantaneous validation and the opportunity to take a good a number of retakes, each being instantly accessible to view. Picture taking has certainly evolved; I know many who have a boatload of jpegs on their mobile phones and tablets. A lot.
There’s some truth about the way film cameras slow down the picture-taking process; and for a group of film devotees, you could say it does something similar to some of our behaviors.

Same location on the same day just minutes after the photo above….

Done for the day, Mother Liberty eyes the loading/unloading cranes at rest.

Sunsets and sunrises have been with us time immemorial. With or without a camera, they fascinate us. It’s all about the light and the way it changes–and rather quickly–to the familiar sunny or cloudy sky. The sky then becomes its usual self, an unevern canvas of grey or light grey with that hint of white. All of those visual details make it beautiful: a clear sky, dramatic skies, a storm or front already heading our way, along with whatever feelings that may surface to shape our visceral self.
Here’s to all our moments in our 24-hour lives, and to the details we discover that adds something to the way we see things.

Get Closer

It was home back in the day. Situated on 48 acres, the “cottage” contains 44 rooms.

Have you ever tried to look at something right in front of you and discern one particular detail. It could be anything: color, shape, texture, scale/size, any specific object and so forth. I’m referring to a single element that piques your attention, whether the element is large or small, plain looking or colorful, simple or complex by design.
Naumkeag offers history, a feast for your senses and options to indulge in a location that’s an antithesis to our present-day way of living. So, with an unhurried pace, walk the grounds, examine the gardens, enjoy the vistas and of course the house that was the summer home of prominent lawyer, Joseph Choate and his wife, Caroline. They referred to their residence in Stockbridge, MA as a “cottage.”
You don’t need to be a cognoscenti to appreciate landscape design, flowers, stonework, or architecture. No agenda, just a dose of quiet time in a locale that puts you in the Housatonic River Valley, a place in the Berkshires as pastoral as any you’ll find across New England.

Naumkeag is a cornucopia of details. You’re offered a buffet of elements that rightfully distract you from monitors, traffic, deadlines, meetings along with other indeterminate noises. Granted the elements–or distractions–are innocuous, there’s a realization that having these very details shrink the less important, stressful elements that occupy your mind. Well, at least in my mind.

Where’s my focus? Is it obvious to you? Can it as much be yours as it is mine?

You might say this is an exercise in discernment, a way of sharpening perceptions, a means to refocus on other details/elements that may lead you to another level of thinking. The process is still your own, but this time, you’ve given yourself the beginnings of a map that’s genuinely yours.

A benefit of these sorties is this sense of life copacetic; in spite of the routines and doldrums, there are moments that are the opposite of what ails us. In the world of art and the written word, we can see and feel just about anything. Having a sense of place, in this space and time, not in your past and where the future is not promised to any of us, the now matters. That’s it. Don’t waste it. Appreciate don’t pontificate.

The exercise of pulling a detail out and away from everything else pushes me to consider and associate with another perspective of whatever detail I look at. The reds and yellows in the tulips appear even more intense when surrounded by the middle greys in the photographs. The broadleaf in one corner of the greenhouse looks healthy, in large part because of the depth of its green color. Nothing has changed really, and neither have the proprieties of the object or the surroundings. What’s changed is the manner in which you deconstruct details.

Those with a proclivity to capture details can notice more than what meets the eye. Beyond colors, tendrils of an iron chair, the gradation of a solid color to one of a lesser though similar hue, I tend to go toward an object, experience or what have you, that’s relevant to my personal history. You might say it’s akin to a word association game, a yin-yang of opposites as well as things similar.
The associations can be personal, simple or complex, a source of light-heartedness or burdened echoes ruminating within your memory.

This is a modification of the immemorial saying, Stop and smell the roses [or tulips]. Instead, reframe your perspective: You can see the big picture, but details bring you closer to the value of the picture.

Life Lessons

It’s been said that everything you needed to learn and know in order to get through a day was taught in kindergarten. That was the early-in-life primer, essentially a course in fundamentals: polite behavior, expressions of gratitude, common courtesy and common sense in all things you say and act upon.
Some life lessons around loyalty, unconditional love, patience, trust, kindness–among others–were influenced by my dog, Humphrey. Naturally, various experiences with family, teachers/professors and good friends added to that mix as well, as well it should.

Humphrey was a miniature cockapoo, but there was nothing small in his character or demeanor. Simply put, he acted like he was the biggest, baddest, dog east of the Mississippi. He possessed a radar that had a way of measuring and reading the nature of most grown ups, and of course other four-legged creatures [read: neighborhood dogs he didn’t quite like]. I’ve heard it said that the size of the dog doesn’t matter as much as the size of its heart. And that little guy had a huge heart.
Children were another story. He was comfortable around them. Humphrey was just as curious about kids, as the kids were with this little guy. Throughout his life, many thought Humphrey to be a puppy. In a sense he was that in many ways.

It makes sense to me that the weight and burden of grief that comes from the loss of a pet correlates to the amount and type of affection you gave the pet, and vice versa. Reciprocity at its finest. Quite frankly, that equation is the same for family, significant others and close friends. When you truly care about someone or something, you give it your all, certainly your heart and soul as a minimum.
MJ and I support each other in all of this. She did, indeed, have a big part in Humphrey’s life, as did our kids and grandkids. Those connections or bonds don’t disappear at death. Not surprisingly, we had thought about ways to extend Humphrey’s life, perhaps just a bit more care or special intervention would’ve helped, but time waits for no one.
Second thoughts arose wondering if any intervention for Humphrey could still help him. I think part of understanding what love is revolves around one’s willingness to let go. We’d like to think that as the end drew closer, that that pup knew he added so much to our days, and vice versa. Life lessons arrive from many points. From the smallest of vignettes to those large and complex, there’s something one can glean from experience and interaction.

Not surprisingly, other events or milestones reach out and overwhelm us, including one in particular. About a week after Humphrey died, one of our daughters and her husband added to the number of grandchildren. Their second child–and our fifth grandchild–was a welcome sight!

He was the salve to our sadness. The sounds and expressions of loss and affirmation differ. Death and grief are shadowed by life, not the other way around. That new baby dampened down some of the grief we’ve been carrying. The creation and arrival of a new life, affirms the reality that dying and being born are conditions each of us cannot deny. With one, comes the other.

Fate added another exclamation point to all of this. Just before the end of March, MJ’s sister suddenly passed away from heart failure made more complex by cancer. And just like that, death set us back yet again. Nostalgia, sadness, regret and second guessing returned in force. No sooner than when the new baby arrived home, MJ and I were thinking about an obituary and a funeral to attend in short order.

In all of this, I’m reminded of what MJ’s mom said about the passing away of loved ones: remember them on their birthdays, not just on the day they died. That notion has stuck by us for quite awhile now. With birthdays come celebrations, the gathering of family and friends, and an opportunity to reconnect with good times and the people who are and were a part of that. To auld lang syne, to “times that have gone by.” We can think of any number of experiences that raised a smile, a laugh, a few tears, but don’t mistake this as longing or living in the past. It’s really a time to be in the moment, a key one at that, to share recollections with those in attendance and in doing so, our connections to each other are again [or for the first time!] affirmed.

My take on all that’s happened is that our willingness to interact with each other can never be replaced with the efficiency of Facetime, Zoom Meetings, teleconferencing and any other present-day digital communication. The attributes of efficiency cannot separate us from emotions and empathy. There are lessons woven into experiences that can be shared, indeed as some should anyway. It’s what makes each of us a wholly unique, sentient being.

The peaks and valleys this past March, made clear that we need to nurture our connections to family and friends, to dogs and cats and pets, and to others outside our zones of comfort. Good or bad, joyful or sad, the confluence of your feelings shared with others enhances many of life’s lessons…