David, my oldest kiddo, is celebrating his 18th birthday today. He’s also graduating from high school on Friday. Needless to say, I’m a muddled mess this week. We have a tradition in our house where we put up a birthday sign on the front door– it’s the first thing the kids see when they come down the stairs on their birthday.
The hubby put up this sign:
I guess it’s a male thing to achieve adulthood, but for a mom, it’s just a reminder of how-too-quickly motherhood comes to pass. David has been looking forward to this monumental birthday, rejoicing in the “adult” status. As for me, I’m trying to juggle the flip flop of emotions that are swirling inside of me. I wrote about it in the Chicago Tribune TribLocal, which was printed in last week’s newspaper:
Do you remember those Tom and Jerry cartoons when you were little– the scenes where Tom would chase Jerry and leaving him spinning in a circle–not knowing what hit him? Yeah, that’s exactly how I feel today. The years went by so fast– that I’m still dizzy from the whirlwind.
Happy Birthday, Dave! I love you! You may be legally an adult today, but you’re still my baby. May your day be an amazing one!
It has been a long, cold, drawn-out spring in Chicago, so when a beautiful, warm day arrived, I decided to runwalk on the prairie path in Naperville. I didn’t get very far with running– there was a heaviness inside that I couldn’t shake. I slowed to a walk and soaked in the beauty around me. I tried to figure out why I was feeling so weighed down. I recognized that heaviness– it was the familiar feeling of stress. So many changes had occurred in such a short time. The countless trips to Michigan and the loss of my dad. The change from full time employment to part time. The additional projects I had taken on.
Out of nowhere, I started to cry. At first, I didn’t even know why I was crying. I was thankful for sunglasses and the mostly deserted path. I struggled to sort out the jumble of thoughts that were racing through my mind. The one that stood out was this: I missed my dad. I hadn’t slowed down enough in the last several weeks to allow myself to feel the loss.
A bird landed right in front of the path I was walking. When I saw the bird, I started to laugh. It was a red-winged blackbird. Because you see, up in Michigan, we had a red-winged blackbird that used to dive toward Dad’s head whenever he was out in the yard near the shore. And in all of my years in Illinois, I had never noticed a red-winged blackbird around me.
At the moment, I’m in a cranky mood. I’ve just gotten off the boat at the World Barefoot Center, hung up my wetsuit and sat down to stew a bit. Just a few hours earlier, I was pumped up, looking forward to some backward barefooting– wanting that feeling of skimming backward on the water on my feet– like I did several weeks ago.
But this is how I spent my afternoon:
Did I mention that I was a bit cranky?
I’m juggling the feelings of frustration that resulted from an afternoon of trying, trying, trying to accomplish the backward deep water start to no avail. Swampy finally pulled me off the water– there would be no more barefooting until we did some dry land practice. I grumbled, but I knew he was right– insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. It was time to go back to the basics and learn again from the beginning.
“I’ve had days like that,” said Ben Groen, a skier from New Zealand. “One day I can do my turns– and then I’ll go out there and I can’t do them.”
I’m learning some lessons on the water, and they’re not just about barefoot water skiing, they’re about life. No matter where you are with your skills, you’re going to have some days where everything lines up– and days when nothing seems to work. The gals–Kim, Judy and Claudia– remind me to have patience, that the learning curve is a steep one. Two steps forward, and sometimes twenty steps back. “You have to remember where you are in the process,” said Kim. “You can’t compare yourself to someone who is far ahead and expect the same results. It’s a process to get there.”
Tomorrow is another day– another day to apply new lessons and develop new skills. I’ve already shifted my attitude as I ponder the day and put it in the proper perspective– because a bad day on the water– surrounded by friends on a beautiful, sunny Florida day– is a good day indeed.
Bill Shafer and cameraman, Jason Morrow from Growing Bolder TV did a great job capturing the story of how I met Judy Myers and Keith St. Onge at the World Barefoot Center. You can see my very first, sort-of-official backward barefoot start (with no shoes!)– but don’t blink, or you’ll miss me keeling right over two seconds later.
First of all, today’s the first official day of… unemployment. That’s right, I’m no longer a Sales Manager for ZVRS, a job that I’ve held the last two and half years. I’ll dearly miss the Z Team, but with my Z-20, I can stay in touch with everyone. And speaking of the Z-20, I just gotta say that the VCO really rocks on it! It comes with a phone as well as the headset option. I just got off the phone with a gal from a major corporation and she had to ask me, “Karen, I know you’re deaf– how is it possible for you to be talking to me right now?” Technology and top-notch interpreters– gotta love it!
I just got back from Gallaudet University, where I gave a presentation on “Unwrapping Your Passion” at the Global Deaf Women retreat. I had the honor of giving away a copy of my ultimate favorite book, “Aspire: Discovering Your Purpose Through the Power of Words,” by Kevin Hall. Kevin kindly sent me a signed copy of his book and I thought long and hard about who I wanted to share it with– I knew that the Global Deaf Women retreat was just the place for it. Cindi Molloy was the proud recipient of the book and I can’t wait to see what she learns from it.
Before I left for D.C., I met Stephen Hopson for lunch and then we took off for the Drake Hotel for the Social Media Chicago event. Stephen is the author of Obstacle Illusions, another book that I highly recommend to everyone. Stay tuned for a post on Stephen and some insight into his book! Stephen and I met online several years back and we connected at an SOBCon Conference in 2008. He has become one of my dearest friends and my fake husband (yes, the real life hubby knows!). Stephen was in town to speak at Debra Poneman’s Yes to Success workshop where he received a standing ovation. Before we took off for our respective speaking gigs, we enjoyed a night of connecting with the SOBCon gang, including Liz Strauss, Chris Brogan, Wendy Piersall, Becky McCray, Sheila Scarborough, Chris Garrett, and Lorelle VanFossen.
Coming up on PBS and Create TV is a show called Growing Bolder, featuring a segment on my return to barefoot water skiing. You can see the teaser paragraph on this month’s issue of the Growing Bolder Insider. Scroll down to the bottom and you’ll see a picture of me barefooting (sort of… I’m on shoes!) backward. I’m proud to say that since it was filmed, I actually did learn to barefoot backwards on my feet.
In the next Insider: What do you do when the one thing you love most is the one thing everyone tells you not to do? As a teen, Karen Putz lost her hearing while barefoot waterskiing. More than 25 years passed, but her desire to get back on her feet kept burning within her, until she finally decided to try to barefoot again.
No Skis, No Sound, No Problem!
When I arrived home, I thumbed through The Waterskier magazine and sat down to read “Legends Collide,” an article that I wrote featuring two-time World Barefoot Champion Keith St. Onge and Glen Plake, who was inducted into the U.S. Ski and Snowboard Hall of Fame. It never gets old to read stuff in print!
Everyone has been asking, “What’s next?’ I’m focusing on finishing the books I’ve started and booking more speaking engagements. Joe and I have also teamed up with Send Out Cards, a company that I also use as a marketing tool: Appreciation Marketing Goes A Long Way. For every card you send, a percentage goes toward barefoot training and competitions. You are welcomed to try it– send a card for free. If you’re interested in joining my team at Send Out Cards, shoot me an email at karen (at) karenputz ( dot) com.
To wrap up, I wanted to share a quote by William Hutchinson Murray that can be found at the beginning of Chapter Two in Aspire:
The moment one definitely commits oneself then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred… unforeseen incidents, meetings, and material assistance which no man could have dreamed would have come his way.
My brother Kenny spent his last morning with Dad a week ago and he captured this sunrise at the lake and showed it to Dad:
I was fortunate to be able to spend the last two weeks with Dad and grab some precious time. I jokingly asked him to send me some glass calm water this summer so I could barefoot. He laughed. On the morning of his memorial, this is what we woke up to:
Dad’s Memorial service:
After the memorial, we went inside the VFW hall for a luncheon and I shared a few words:
I would like to thank all of you for joining us today. It means a lot to us to have each and every one of you here.
You’ve probably heard the saying it takes a village to raise a child. Well it took a village to get through this cancer journey with my dad. I want to extend a big thank you to everyone who visited and lent a helping hand. We could not have gotten through the last two years without you.
Tom Pursley has been a friend since he built my parent’s home almost twenty years ago. Tom and his crew built a roll in shower and a ramp and this enabled Dad to live his last months at home. Without that, we wouldn’t have been able to have Dad at home. Thank you Tom, for all you’ve done.
Roger and Mabel thank you, for being great neighbors and for all the projects you did around the house, especially the generator. Mom didn’t have to worry about the oxygen machine if the power would have gone out. Thank you for taking care of the house when we were gone. Mabel came down every day at the end and provided great support.
When Dad first began treatments two years ago, Mom was worried about keeping up with the yard at the house and the shed. Dick jumped right in and said, don’t worry about it– I will take care of it. And he did. Dick and Lorraine, thank you for all the help you have given us.
We could have done it without all if you who pitched in and supported us. Thank you.
Thw first night that Dad was gone, my sisters and I sat with Mom and we started sharing some memories about Dad. Soon we found ourselves laughing, because my Dad had a wry sense of humor. So I wanted to share some of that with you today.
Every now and then, Dad liked to play with the telemarketers that called in the evenings. After a long day at work, the phone would ring and it would be someone trying to sell something. On one particular call, a guy tried to sell him some siding. Dad listened to his sales pitch and asked him questions… What color … payment plans and so on. Just as the guy thought he had a sale, Dad said, “I’d really like to buy what you’re selling, but I don’t own this house. I’m just renting.” And then he’d hang up.
Another story involves Mike Radtkovich who owned the cottage that the Bires now own. Mike was an insurance agent. The first time Dad called him, he didn’t recognize his voice. He wanted to insure a hang glider, for towing behind a boat. Mike explained that he couldn’t draw up a policy just for a hang glider. How about the boat– Mike tried to sell him a policy for the boat. “Oh, I don’t have insurance on the boat,” Dad told him. “I just want insurance on the hang glider.” On and on they went. Mike wanted to hang up on this difficult customer who just wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Mike, this is Norm,” said Dad. “You know sure as hell that I don’t own a hang glider!”
My cousin Marilyn received a call one day out of the blue. It was the electric company, threatening to shut off the electric because they were behind on payments. Marilyn insisted that she paid her bill, and they went back and forth. She had two days to pay her entire bill or they would shut off the electric. “How could this happen?” Marilyn wanted to know– and then she heard, “This is Norrrrrm!” Marilyn fell for it again, in another call, where Dad attempted to sell her new windows. But she quickly turned the tables and said that she had new windows put in. Before she could hang up, she heard it again, “This is Norrrrm!”
Marilyn finally got new windows… A few years ago.
For the last two years, cancer took away the one thing that my dad loved, and that’s food. During the first visit to the doctor, he was asked what he hoped to achieve from treatment. Dad said, “Well, my wife is a good cook. I just want to be able to enjoy her food again.” Mom nearly fell off the chair, as dad mostly took her cooking for granted all these years!
Well, after two years of being on the feeding tube, a miracle occured for a few weeks. Dad could eat again. And I mean, he could eat! So whatever he asked for, Mom cooked it or baked it. Pies, cakes, cookies, fish, you name it.
A month ago, Dad joined us at the table for what would be one of his last full meals with us. Lauren, my daughter, suggested that we say grace. We all began to join hands and Dad gruffly declined to join us. None of that touchy-feely stuff for this tough Marine. In the middle of grace, I felt a hand reach for mine. In the corner of my eye, I saw him reach for mom’s hand , and Dad joined us for the rest of the grace.
Thank you Dad. I will always cherish that memory.
Please join me in saying grace.
After the memorial, we went back to the house and everyone remarked at what a beautiful day it was and how rare for the lake to be so calm the entire day. All I could think was, “Gee, thanks, Dad. I meant ‘glass calm water’ when I have a boat to ski behind, not today.” Gotta laugh at Dad, the joker:
To finish off the day, Jen and I went for a walk and came across one of the most brilliant sunsets that I can ever remember seeing in all the years of being up in Michigan:
On my Facebook page, Claude St. Onge shared this thought, a fitting end to this post:
Dear Karen, You are so lucky, lucky to have an Angel of light that was with you to touch on this earth plane. Now you still have his Angelic memoires to hold you over till you meet again. Release comes when the heart opens. The word heart is really HE ART. He is. You Dad still is. Remember this always. Love CSTO
“Eighty-six years… that’s a good, long life,” a friend remarked. Indeed, it is, yet it still feels too short. Dad’s cancer journey came to an end this morning. If there’s one thing that I’m thankful for, is that cancer gave us time to say goodbye.
But goodbyes are never easy. How fitting though, that the post that I wrote for the Chicago Tribune TribLocal was printed in today’s edition: It’s Not Easy to Say Goodbye.
We are gathering for the burial and memorial of Norman J. (That’s J as in Jesus, as he always said) Griffard this Saturday at one p.m. at the VFW Hall, 560 N. Phelps Street, Decatur, Michigan. There will be a memorial luncheon following the military salute service.
In lieu of flowers, donations would be greatly appreciated for the two organizations that have given selfless service:
How many of us hold back because we have a million and one excuses of why we can’t accomplish something that seems so beyond our reach? How many of us even try? How many of us wishfully want to do something but we resign ourselves to the idea that it’s beyond our capabilities?
Yeah, that was me a year ago. If you told me back in March of last year that I would be barefoot water skiing backwards on my feet a year later, I would have slapped my thigh a couple of times and laughed you out of town. “That’s impossible,” I would have said. “I’m not capable of that!”
Because you see, this was me a year ago, hanging on the boom and putting my feet in the water for the first time in many years:
Now remember that quote by Edison above? I’ve learned some incredible lessons in the past year. I had no idea what I was capable of until I started to explore the limits and push past some of the boundaries in my mind. How do you know what the limits are, until you push past them? It wasn’t just barefooting, it applied to many other areas of life as well. “You’re just having a mid-life crisis,” one friend told me as she shook her head. I couldn’t quite agree with her. I call it a mid-life “awakening,” and I’m thankful for it. I’m thankful for the people who’ve crossed my path and joined me on this awakening– the ones who push me to new limits and tell me “Yes, you certainly can!” Because you see, Kevin Hall has another inspirational quote that he often shares, one by Joseph Campbell: “When you follow your bliss, you put yourself on the track that has been there all the while… you begin to meet people who are in the field of your bliss, and they open doors to you.”
How true this has been in the past year–I’ve met so many amazing people in the path of following bliss that so many doors flew wide open as a result. And little by little, I began stretching the limits of what I thought I was capable of with the help of the wonderful folks who have crossed my path.
A year ago, indeed, I would have thought it was impossible to even imagine myself barefooting backwards on my feet, but that’s just what I found myself doing this week:
So let me ask you, what are you holding back on? Let yourself be astounded by the things you can do. Start today to move yourself toward your bliss.
On June 4th, I will be heading to LA to join 19 other deaf woman for the The Pearls event. It is a wonderful honor to be included with such an amazing group of deaf women and I look forward to meeting them all. The event is modeled after Oprah’s The Legends Weekend, where Oprah honored a group of African-American women who made history by paving the way for other women.
Here’s the video interview that I did for The Pearls (captions, ASL and transcript included) :
David, my oldest kiddo, is celebrating his 18th birthday today. He’s also graduating from high school on Friday. Needless to say, I’m a muddled mess this week. We have a tradition in our house where we put up a birthday sign on the front door– it’s the first thing the kids see when they come down the stairs on their birthday.
