Category Archives: Family

Go To Your Happy Place

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What happens when someone says “Go to your happy place” and you don’t know what that is?

I no longer have that problem. I got it now.

Last night as I was falling asleep not only was I anxious as usual, but I heard myself saying that above the inner cacophony.

It was then that I figured it out, and it says something that I was able to remember it this morning.

My happy place is a Sunday morning sitting outside in the warmth, gazing over the Caribbean Sea while sipping an iced coffee out of a colored plastic floral pint glass as Jennifer reads a book on the lounge chair to my left and Rooney lies there under the chair eyeing the iguanas down below. I know that we’ll have to shower and get dressed for brunch with our friends in an hour and we’re both looking forward to this little weekly ritual of chuckles and cuisine. I breathe deeply and can taste the lingering flavor of Irish cream on my tongue before taking another swig of the drink, being careful so as not to chug it too fast and have an ice cube or three try to escape their fate.

That’s my happy place. At least for now.

Bring on the Benedicts.

Unreal Korea

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You know, I was never really homesick in Cayman. There were times I missed living in the ‘civilized world’ but the friends and, yes, climate made it an easier place to call home.

Don’t get me wrong: I still very clearly remember the life of being a second class citizen in a small Caribbean country. You stay there for seven years and it’s hard to forget having to contend with people yelling “Go back to your country!” at you when you don’t acquiesce and let them cut you off while driving. Or hearing “My bredren work at Immigration, I can have you kicked off the island,” or even having a bogus file of complaints submitted to the Honourable Work Permit Board.

But lemme tell you this, I miss the heck out of the USA and Cayman right now.

And not just because of the distance and time differences of my favorite tv shows and sporting events. Tech mitigates those issues quite well thankyouverymuch.

It is partially because I couldn’t go to Baltimore when my grandfather passed away. Ok, that one is distance. But it’s more the sheer inconvenience of it.

Yes, there are some fundamental cultural politeness issues. That’s rich coming from me, I know, but it’s true. The pushing and shoving and overall vibe of animosity is right up there w/ New York and there’s a reason I don’t want to live in that city.

Also, there’s an interesting thing about the expats here. They take on a more native thing and say, “you have to adapt to that if you want it to work out.”

Well, that’s just it, isn’t it?

Like maybe the type of people that are expats in Asia are totally different than the type of expats in the Caribbean. And interestingly enough, some of the challenges have come from ‘fellow Americans’ who’ve become power-grabbing opportunists, competing with each other instead of working on the same team. Which is a direct reflection of the duality of Korean community ‘all-for-one’ while simultaneously stressing ‘be the top in your class/field/whatever no matter what the cost.’

Crazy, right?

I just don’t feel at home here the way I did in Cayman, Philadelphia, or Baltimore.

Really didn’t expect that.

So yeah, I’m a little homesick for friends and family and the feeling of community that comes from both.

Happy Time Thanksgiving

Giving thanks

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This will be my eighth Thanksgiving away from the USA; Jenn’s as well.

We both moved to Cayman in 2006, and don’t think (!) we ever went back “home” for Thanksgiving once we got there.

We’ve always missed our families, albeit in different ways.  I’ve had a few chances to call and Skype during the family meal, but Jenn has worked in a British school system for the last few years where the holiday is not observed, so she’s missed out on those chats during her family’s meal. And my mother has frequently taken a photo of us and placed it on the table for us just like we were there.

This year it’s different.  We’re both having trouble grappling with this holiday this year.  Not that we don’t have a lot to be thankful for, but unfortunately we’ve all too aware of what we’re lacking versus what we have.  Which is not really the point of the holiday; and that makes me feel a little more weird…

Like maybe I should snap out of it and be freakin’ happy to be alive and healthy and have a wonderful wife and dog and cat and roof over my head and warm clothes to wear and food to eat… and that there are people out there who don’t have any of that.

But… it’s all relative.  And the fact is that I don’t think we’ve ever felt more alone for Thanksgiving then we do this year.

Away from the family home is one thing…  away from family itself is another… and away from the people who were our adopted family is just plain brutal.

We’re going to a brewpub for Thanksgiving this year.  I’m sure it’ll be nice, but it won’t be Copper Falls in Cayman for the third year with friends we’ve had for over four years, and it won’t be our place in Mystic Retreat where we hosted American Thanksgiving the year before that (where I cooked the turkey accidentally upside down), where even though I’d just been ousted from a job, I was surrounded by loved ones… but really, it certainly won’t be home.

Phil & Ben

Half a world away

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When the call comes that a loved one has passed and you’re on the other side of the planet, I believe that the first instinct most people have is to drop everything and jump on a plane to be with family.  The challenge comes in when religious custom dictates that burial must occur within 24 hours.  That was the case with my grandfather on Sunday.  While Jennifer and I were enjoying our brunch, the 92 year old father of my mother passed away swiftly.  It was late Saturday night in my hometown.  Even if I received the call at that precise moment, there was no way I could have made it home in time for the services.  The flight I would have had to take, along with the time difference would have made it impossible without a flux capacitor.  Add to that the fact that I had (and still have) a small ear thing going on which would have made it extremely uncomfortable if not downright dangerous for me to fly.

When my mother called that evening, it wasn’t a wholly unexpected call.

I jotted down some thoughts at that moment that my sister read at the service.

Benjamin… A sale is made every time. Either you sell them or they sell you.

Just one of the many sayings that made up the Phil credo.

This expression, told to me on what seems like yesterday, has informed both my personal and professional dealings.  I think it’s called charm.  And Phil had charm in spades.  Understanding how people act and react is the cornerstone of an insurance salesman… But Phil was no Willie Loman.  He was a closer.  And his accolades from Lincoln National speak to that.

Benjamin, I’d tell them with pen in hand and contract on the table ‘There are only two questions you need to ask yourself… Do you need it? And can you afford it?  Of course you need it… now let’s work on how you’re going to afford it, okay?’  And that’s how you sell ‘em.

Sales was the best avenue for Phil, because he genuinely wanted to help his clients.  And I think more than that, he understood the power of empathy.  That may have been his greatest gift to our family.  He always knew how to reach people by putting himself in their shoes, and I have no doubt that he carried that thru to his children, who in turn impressed upon their children that same importance.

I will miss Pop Phil, of course.  But whenever I see a 50 dollar bill I’ll think of the one he carried in his wallet, the one that made him feel like he’d made it… and how he would ask:

Hey Benjamin, need some walkin’ around money?

Godspeed Pop.