Photo credit: http://dumais.us

In my job, we’re always thinking about how to serve our constituents, our supporters, our donors, our followers, and fans, partners, and

champions. That means we frequently “engage with our supporters” which means wonky non-profit type stuff like “creating a dialogue,” “providing a platform for community-building,” “raising awareness,” and “reporting back.”

We tell our people that they THEY are the reason why our organization is successful, or that malaria deaths are down, or that more lives are saved. We run the operations and the behind-the-scenes show, but it’s the supporters who really make it happen, right?

I realized today that all of the things we online communications and non-profit people work on everyday also fits into the relationships in our lives. When you think about it, our supporters, constituents, and donors are our parents, boyfriends or girlfriends, husbands, wives, aunts, grandparents, and friends. And in the same way that those turns of phrase above are part of our daily professional to-do lists and goals, they are also, or should be, a part of our daily personal lives.

• Creating a dialogue. Our loved ones want to hear from us, but they don’t want us to talk at them – they want to say something back. If we have a problem we’re trying to solve, we’re venting about a rough day, or we want to share exciting news, our “supporters” want to join the conversation, and provide feedback. Part of facilitating a successful dialogue means listening really well to what our people want or need from us – and in turn, telling them what we need or want from them.

• Providing a platform for community-building. This doesn’t mean building a social network, website, or even a physical building to hang out in. It means that we need a place to have the dialogues above, a place to collaborate, inspire each other, tackle life’s challenges, and celebrate life’s special moments. It’s a safe space, where there are rules of respect, privacy, and trust, but not so many barriers that it’s uncomfortable and you can’t accomplish anything. So whether it’s keeping weekly date nights, monthly family game nights, or doing an activity you like with grandma, make it easy to support each other.
• Raising awareness. If we want our “supporters” to care about us and take action on our behalf, we need to let them know what’s going on in our lives. We can’t expect mom and dad to know what’s bothering us if we don’t tell them, or our boyfriend or girlfriend to get us the cooking class we want if we don’t give a hint. We have to educate our family and friends on what’s important to us and let them know what we need them to help us with. It’s like those commercials – “the more you know…”
• Report back. Donors love hearing where their money went and to hear success stories. Our own supporters are the same way. Parents want to know what happened after you took their advice, friends want to hear if you’re doing okay, and grandma wants to know what you bought with her birthday check. So tell them. Call people, email them, write letters, whatever you need to do, to keep your loved ones updated. In the non-profit world, if donors don’t hear back, they don’t donate again. Share how your family and friends made an impact and how they too, are awesome — so they keep coming back.

Relationship-building takes work — in the office, and at home. And these “best practices” are just that – practice. You test things, you analyze, and you optimize (yes, another non-profit thing). Your results aren’t quite donations, retweets, or email signups, but I think what you get instead is worth a lot more.

But how to start is the dilemma in so many cases. Should you wait for them to bring it up, should you bring it up, when do you bring it up, how do you bring it up? Do you rehearse it, do you wing it, do you plan an escape route if it doesn’t go well?

Sometimes, you don’t have time to think about any of that – and sometimes, that’s exactly the way it should be.

I recently reached a major breakthrough with someone in my life that was years in the making. 20 to be exact. And no, all the walls didn’t come crashing down, and puppies and cupcakes and unicorns did not start flying everywhere in the room. But the elephant, the giant, ugly elephant that had been standing among us for so long, shrunk to a size that made us breathe easier, that made us love harder, made us know each other better.

And I didn’t need to escape. I didn’t want to escape. I wanted to stay right there, in that moment, forever. We both did.

Sometimes, it takes one of you just asking “what’s going on?” for it to all come out. And that doesn’t mean it’s over, it just means whoo, at least we got that sort of out of the way. And now, it’s kinda like a second date. First one went really well, you made plans to hang out again, and now it’s like, ok…what’s going to happen? You get nervous, you get excited, you know it’s going to be 10 times better, or maybe much harder this time.

But you know why it’s good? Because it’s the Things You Need to Hear. It’s the words you need to say. It’s the time to make things right, and real. It’s time to get rid of the elephant, once and for all.

First, Casey's turn...

So goes a verse in the Carpenters’ Christmas classic, “Sleigh Ride.” This song will be playing while my parents and I drag up the big plastic containers with red and green lids from the basement that snugly hold our universe of Christmas decorations. We’ll pick and choose from the bins which knicknacks we want to place around the house and which ones we don’t feel like dealing with, and slowly begin to unwrap each of the dozens of ornaments from their boxes and paper towel wrappings and bubble wrap. We’ll marvel over the ornaments that have made it 20 years or more, over the handmade pieces I created in school as a child, and the still wonderful, potent smell from the clove ball all these years later.

Harrison will circle around us, sniffing everything. We’ll remember when Casey used to try to distract us with a toy. Dad will come at the very end, to hang his favorite ornaments and to lift me on his shoulders to place the angel on top of the tree. Then we’ll switch on the string of lights… and all will be well and wonderful in the world.

I could go on with so many more details just about this very activity in our family. I could explain in detail every single ornament by its looks, its origins and its sentiment. But I think I’ve shared enough for you to imagine the rest. Now with that image in my head, I want to share some of my favorite memories of Christmases through the years. And then, I want to hear some of yours!

• 

  Now, Harrion's turn!

  Our very first Christmas together as a family, in the trailer in Louisiana. I wore plaid pajamas. I don’t remember what presents I unwrapped and squealed in delight over, but I do know that the best gift of all was a new dad.

• My first Christmas in Ohio, in 1992. It was the second time I had ever seen snow, and the first white Christmas I had experienced.
• Christmas Eve in Lutcher, walking on the levee next to the Mississippi River and seeing how close I could get to the glowing, red-hot bonfires before being yanked back. Laughing at the Santa being pulled by alligators instead of reindeer.  Inhaling the sights, smells, sounds, and tastes of the open house at my aunt’s, where my family would cook gumbo, jambalaya and pralines for hundreds, maybe thousands of people. (This EatLikeANative video perfectly captures the night. See minute 6:22 for the alligators!)
• For nearly 13 years going to see the Cincinnati Playhouse production of A Christmas Carol. We saw it so many times we could recite the entire script and name all the changes in cast and tweaks in dialogue.
• Some favorite gifts over the years: Barbie bike, 64 box of crayons, My Pretty little Ballerina, stereo, digital camera, books & more books, a leather jacket…the list goes on. My parents never ever disappointed – and always surprised me.
• Coffee first, then presents. Then pancakes.
• Watching A Muppet Christmas Carol.
• Doing stockings last. It’s our thing.
• Christmas gift exchange and gathering with my mom’s family in Louisiana. Dozens of people, lots of food, alcohol, and everyone talking at once. Simply put, a madhouse, but also “wonderfully great” at times.
• Watching It’s a Wonderful Life with my parents for years, and then continuing the tradition with friends in college.
• Building a gingerbread house.
• Year after year, my dad and I reminding my mom that she must get the HoneyBaked Ham for the rest of her life to make up for the year that he and I stood in line outside for 3 hours in the freezing cold and snow. The year? Somewhere around 1994.
• Putting the reindog antlers on Rocky, then Harrison and Casey.
• Simply basking in the pleasure of each other’s company, and relishing health and happiness.

The first couple of days of this past week were rough. But little by little, day by day, it became easier to continue on with life, as it always does. I went to a farewell happy hour for a colleague, and laughed and enjoyed bar food and beer. I talked to my dad night after night on the phone, reliving memories of Casey, sharing pictures we had collected over the years. I talked to my mom, assuring her that her trip to Miraval was the right thing to have done, that it will help her in the end, no matter how hard it was to leave my dad and Harrison at home again so soon. Friends and family had many words of kindness for me, as well as people I don’t know so well, and people I hadn’t seen in years. I went to another colleague’s farewell dinner, and laughed and bonded and ate some more, enjoying every moment of being with my team, loving what we do while at our desks during the day and knowing that any of us would do anything for the each other. And then on Friday, my boyfriend arrived for the weekend, the last bit of comfort I needed to make me realize that even with this loss, there is still life to live.

I know still that when I go home at Thanksgiving, I probably will be sad again, when I don’t hear Casey’s bark in the laundry room or his nails skidding across the floor to greet me. I know we will all be taking turns holding Harrison in our laps, because it will be one dog to three people instead of two to three.

But – I know as well that my parents and I will be closer than ever before, and we are already pretty damn close. And I know that all I can do is give Harrison all the love that I have and he will give it in return. And I know that I have friends and family and a boyfriend who are there for me, through good and bad, happiness and grief, success, failure, all of it.

Because of some of the struggles I’ve had with my biological father and other family in my life before, I’ve always found it hard to trust that those around me truly love me, need me, want to be around me. And over the last six months, I’ve felt that feeling diminishing thanks to the support of those exact people, and the support of a therapist who has helped me realize that even though this one person wasn’t there for me, I’ve got all of these other people who are there, have been there, will always be there.

With Casey’s death, I know this now more than ever. I know that my friends and colleagues are looking out for me, and appreciate me. I know that my boyfriend is there in a second if I needed him. And most of all, my parents are there in more ways than I can explain. Since I left for college in 2003 and the moved to DC in 2007, my mom and I have talked almost every day on the phone, or at least online. It may be five minutes some days, or half an hour when we have a lot going on. I’ve always loved that, and now, I appreciate it even more. My dad and I haven’t had the same history – he’s not a big phone person, which I respect, so when we do talk by phone, it’s maybe once every few weeks, but we get a lot covered in that one phone call. But this past week, talking to my dad every night for half hour or an hour, about Casey, about work, about our lives, it has done more for me – and I think for him – than I would have expected. We owe that to Casey – our dogs have always brought our family such happiness – and Casey continues to, even in death.

It’s one week later, and life goes on. Football games, dinners with friends, and my daily workouts, which I had dropped over the last few days. Life may not have Casey in it anymore, but I know that because of him, all of life’s little peaceful moments and the relationships I have mean that much more.

But then, all the people in my life reminded me that things aren’t so bad. That I can’t sweat the small stuff. That it’s not that traumatic, but that they’re there for me. These people were my boyfriend (after the fight), a friend and colleague here in DC, my best friend Molly of almost 12 years who spent a weekend with me to cheer me up, eat chili pies and look at photos from our “ugly years,” and of course, my parents. There were no lectures, no sage advice, but just reminders. Reminders that it will be ok, that life is manageable, that things get better and can be worked out.

It’s nice to have those people, and to have that day when things start looking up again. Because, they are right, I have a great job, a place to live, and loving family and friends. And then I come home, have a great workout, make a delicious dinner, talk to my dad for half an hour and think about devouring another book or two this long weekend and taking a long run in the beautiful weather. Because they’re all right, life is good.

Thank you for reminding me of that.

So many things in life seem silly when we look back on it years later. Recently, I was reading through old journal entries to see what I was writing around some particularly challenging times as a teen. Those were interesting enough, but what stopped and made me laugh were all the hours I spent going on and on about boys – oh my gosh, what a wasted effort that seems now, haha. I know all girls go through it, and it’s a part of growing up, but it’s just really interesting to see what took up my energy and emotions back then compared to now – and how dramatic I thought things really were. Crush after crush, conversation after conversation analyzed – nothing compared to paying rent, performing in your job, working through a three-year long distance relationship, and all the other things that come along when you become an adult.

This past week, I was able to step out of life for a few days when I returned home to Ohio. Although I’m almost 25 now, going home makes me feel like a teenager again. Not because I’m grounded or have bedtimes or can’t drink wine with my parents, but because I feel protected by them again, because I get to ride in the backseat again, because they pay for my movie tickets, go to Dewey’s and Graeter’s with them, and Dad makes me pancakes and coffee. This week, Dad got Mom a Wii for her birthday, and playing games with them felt like the old days of Mouse Trap and goofing around in the backyard. And of course, we made the beloved trip to Barnes & Noble to kill some time before dinner – one of my favorite excursions.

Part of the week was spent hiking in the Daniel Boone National Forest & Red River Gorge with Mom. After the first day’s hike, we spent the evening on the cabin’s porch swing, drinking beer and remiscing about the old days with her family, and yearning for some good homecooked Cajun food. The next day’s hike was chattier than the first, as I peppered her with questions about some of those abovementioned “challenging” times in my life. I apologized for the hard questions, but she answered what she could, and I really felt that it was necessary to talk about some of those things in conjunction with what I’m working through now. There are so many things that I don’t remember how it went, or why something happened, and I’m at that point where I want to know more, to help me move on.

Today, I came back to DC and back to life. It was cleaning, grocery shopping, and tomorrow is work. Tomorrow is reality- the adult stuff that has to be done. I thank my parents for giving me this week with them to be a kid again, and to forget about the realities of adulthood for just a little while.

Last weekend was my friend Ankur’s Indian wedding. It was really amazing to be a part of that, and just cool to see the various traditions and how different it all is from the Christian weddings I’ve been to over the years. The outfits were amazing, so was the food, and the dancing was a blast. My friends and I were all honored to have been guests at such a special occasion.

Let’s see, what else? Not too much. I’m going home in a few weeks, so I’m definitely getting excited to see my parents and dogs again. Mom goes to Germany on business again in June, and I wish I could join, but that’s the same time Dan comes into town, so I have to pass again. But, when I go home in August for a week, we’re planning on heading to Chicago, so hopefully we’ll catch some games at Wrigley and enjoy the city together. We haven’t really done a family vacation in quite some time, so that would be nice.

I’m also keeping a food diary so that I can really see what I’m taking in. No calorie counting or anything extreme, just literally writing down everything I’m eating. I think it’s much easier that way to see what can be cut out and where I’m doing a good job. Been trying to have more intense workouts too. Missed a couple days this week, but had started off well, so I continued that today with a pretty vigorous workout. The weather has been so off and on, so it’s been difficult to run outside, so it was back to the gym for these last few weeks. I just hope that we have some nice spring weather for awhile again before 90 degrees hits us again like it did last week. That was intense. I have found several good trails around my neighborhood though, so I know that even when it’s sweltering this summer, I’ll be able to go on the shaded trails. I also look forward to busting out the tennis racket again, so I’m glad I get to play with Dan like we did last summer.

Earlier this week, I got into a ridiculous argument with a couple of cousins on Facebook about politics. It started from nothing and then exploded in my face, and it made me remember why I should never, ever ever discuss any form of government, policy or politics with my very very conservative family. It was absolutely ridiculous the things that were said, and I was not only angry, but ashamed. But, I guess lesson learned. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me multiple times, and I’m so done, haha. I guess I have to learn that one the hard way a few times before I finally get it. But now I do. I am grateful that although my boyfriend is a Republican, that he is mature and reasonable when we debate.

At least that’s what I’m doing. I’ve been “home” in Cincinnati with my parents for over a week and have another week left. It’s funny, because my parents always ask if I want to do anything fun while I’m home, but honestly, I prefer to just keep doing what we’re doing – watching old Law & Orders, having coffee and relaxing with our dogs, seeing some movies, that sort of thing. Rather selfishly, I don’t even like giving up my time of doing what most people would call “nothing,” to hang out with a couple old friends in the area, despite earlier plans to do so.

There’s a lot that’s been going through my mind lately and many things I’ve been trying to figure out. I’m constantly wading through those old bad memories from years ago of a father who didn’t seem to want me, of friends who suddenly weren’t friendly, and so forth. As much as I try to let it go and move on, I can’t. And I’ve come to accept that if I don’t do something about it, it will continue to affect my life and all my current and future relationships in a damaging way – and I don’t want that either. You’ve read in my past entries that overall, life is good with the new job and new place. But even with that, there are some things that just don’t go away until we do something big and life-changing about it. For me, the first part has been realizing that I can’t do it alone.

I’ve had a lot of little moments lately, what Oprah in her magazine likes to call “Aha!” moments. Mine run the gamut, including things like omg I’ve gained 10 lbs and need to lose it ASAP, to why am I not volunteering for Habitat for Humanity to build homes for those hit by Katrina – my real hometown area, nonetheless? Then it’s other things like, damn, I can’t believe I just blew up at my boyfriend for no reason or how did I not realize I was acting like that at work?

My parents always joke that they’re boring. Looking in from the outside, one might agree, considering their social calendar isn’t exactly booked. But then again, mine isn’t either. I tend to spend much of my time just like they do – reading, watching old movies, and just hanging out. But those are the times when I have those Ahas, when I’m not thinking about my work to do list or who do I need to call or what errand do I need to take care of tomorrow. In a week, I’ll be ready to return to DC, and jump into 2009. And then I can turn my Ahas from thoughts to actions.