The STUFF Sisters

Cold Air & A Voice

“Arctic air is not to be trifled with.” His words when I asked about the slightly grimy cardboard after I sighted it the first time. I was in my early twenties.

My grandmother and grandfather lived in two homes during my childhood that I vividly remember. Both had carports, which as a child I found mesmerizing. Our old homes in the big city did not have these “modern” features. Low brick walls and a slick concrete floor defined the second and last carport.

In the heat of summer and on breezy days, they could be known to park the car further back in the driveway and not under the carport. This signaled that part of the evening would be spent in aluminum-framed folding chairs with the plastic webbing reforming our thighs.

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Ladies and Gentlemen, The Rolling Stones…

My son was raised with The Stones. When the Disney CDs in the car became too much for me to bear …

Several years ago, I sat next to my son in a huge stadium under a midnight blue sky. The Rolling Stones rolled over me. I tapped, I sang, I swayed, I stood, I sat. I might have cried. It was a form of church, and I was delighted with this amazing birthday gift from a friend. Me, my son, and my husband, together for one night in one place with pretty much my favorite band. It was near perfection.

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Renewed Commitment

Last week, we celebrated STUFF’s 22nd birthday. Several months ago, we signed a new 10-year lease. We are here to stay, and we are excited. It’s a renewed commitment.

Last week, we celebrated STUFF’s 22nd birthday. Several months ago, we signed a new 10-year lease. We are here to stay, and we are excited.

When you start a business, people talk a lot to you about plans. “What is your business plan, your 5-year plan, your 10-year plan, and what is your exit plan?” “What if it doesn’t work; what is your plan?”

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Surprise

Several weeks ago I attended a charity event. The theme was elusive and when I asked around about what to wear, I was told “something sparkly” and “glittery”.

Easy. Black dress and whatever I owned in the way of rhinestone and crystal jewelry. The more, the merrier.

It was the final touch that I sensed I didn’t own. My clutches can run to bright colors but not sparkle, leather not beads.

As I cursed my way to the bottom of the drawer that holds my handbags lamenting my bad fortune and forgetting just briefly how darn lucky I am to get to attend terrific parties, I happened upon this little number. I didn’t remember inheriting it from my grandmother. It was simply perfect. Fully beaded in subdued black beads – some matte finish and some polished – it was going to be my co-pilot in charge of cell phone, credit card and Chapstick! It even sports a twisted silk strap, which I left curled inside.

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Pumpkin Spice

The picturesque mascot of all things fall makes me abundantly happy.

Truth: I do not like pumpkin spice anything. Except I do like the spices I mix into the pumpkin pies I make from scratch at Thanksgiving. I like pumpkin pie. I like pumpkin pie with whipped cream, to be precise.

Larger Truth: I love pumpkins. Un-spiced. Big Love. This fruit of the gourd family and the picturesque mascot of all things fall makes me abundantly happy. That’s saying something, because I am a summer person through and through.

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Selfies

I want to be able to look back – even if over just a few months or years – and see us. Us as we are. Us as we were.

I have been mesmerized by selfies for a while.

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The Whole World Nicer

He was silent as he continued to stare at me. Deeply and for almost a full minute. He was taking me all in. I never broke his gaze.

Several days before we left to meet our son in New Orleans for his spring break, I was ribbed a little for wearing my AIDS Walk wind breaker. My partner that night informed someone we ran into that “…she always wears that jacket. I don’t think she owns another coat.” I saw no reason to defend myself, and I smiled.

I love this jacket. For many reasons. One: It was a gift over ten years ago for meeting a goal in fundraising. Two: It is lightweight and perfect for travel. Three: I can wear it in the winter easily. Four: It reminds me every time I look down at the logo that AIDS Walk knows no season for me. HIV/AIDS doesn’t quit. It is a 24/7 disease.

So you can imagine my terror when I found a hole on the seam under my left arm. I was crossing my arms on the bus back from a plantation home. I was trying to get my right shoulder in a comfortable position so that my son could fall asleep on it. He might have moved out of the house almost two years ago, but a mother NEVER forgets the pain of a limb arranged stupidly for a child’s nap!

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Rest In Peace

School photos? Unruly cowlick? He cut my hair until my fifty-first year. No one else did. Not ever in all those years. Not even when I moved whole states away.

Almost thirty-five years after leaving junior high school, my French teacher walked into our business this past weekend and told my sister the saddest news of our year. A dear friend – an acquaintance, a confidante, a secret keeper – had died. And not recently, but six months ago. Unbeknownst to us all, and a shock.

John Creighton started cutting my hair when I was ten years old. I probably sat on a phone book in his chair at the swanky Salon Klaus on The Plaza. He cut the hair on the heads of my parents first, and what propelled me to follow suit is unknown. School photos? Unruly cowlick? He cut my hair until my fifty-first year. No one else did. Not ever in all those years. Not even when I moved whole states away. Continue reading “Rest In Peace”

Truly Blessed

It isn’t hard for us to find reasons to be thankful. We are truly blessed. Yet some days it is harder than others. Sometimes the din of daily challenges drowns out the good in our lives.

It isn’t hard for us to find reasons to be thankful. We are truly blessed. Yet some days it is harder than others. Sometimes the din of daily challenges drowns out the good in our lives. There are days when we are just trying to get to the end of the day without stumbling and landing flat on our faces.

This year we have had many challenges and many blessings. The most notable challenge has been having both our father and our mother fighting cancer. They are vibrant, strong, and engaged parents. They both have big personalities. They both are very strong-willed and opinionated. They are both loving and actively involved in our lives and our children’s lives.

You can imagine how scary it is to have them both facing life-threatening diagnoses. It has been humbling and all-consuming at times. Our parents have always set their expectations for us very high. They have led by example. They insist that we suit up, show up, and engage in our careers, our family lives, and our community. They have very different personal motivations and beliefs, but they share the same core value of being accountable and present. There is no “wall-flowering” allowed in the Simmons family.

STUFF celebrated its 20th birthday last week. Since our store’s birthday also falls on the anniversary of our younger sister’s death, we do not make a big deal about it. However, we do enjoy the feelings of success and pride in having built this amazing business that shares so much with so many. We mention this because this year we were given the opportunity to expand our footprint in Brookside and move our store to a larger space up the street. It was exciting and inspiring. It was a dream come true. It was also a stressful and overwhelming decision about our future in business. In the end, we decided to stay put. We are happy with our choice and know the dream will continue to grow and thrive.

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Living With Cancer

Let’s start with the simple truth: Both of our parents have cancer. At the same time, in their separate homes.

Let’s start with the simple truth: Both of our parents have cancer We need to use in home care for Alzheimer’s or dementia family members. At the same time, in their separate homes. One is in chemotherapy for a cancer that has been battled four times. One is in a remission that will not last. Heck, it’s not really remission. It’s just a wonderful string of days that lasts until the cancer pronounces itself and the chemical treatments resume.

But what they are both doing beautifully is living with cancer. Truly living. And the gift they have given us is that they have let both of us in for the private appointments, the fears, the sickness, the good, and the bad. The days that seem numbered, and the days that never end.

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