LATE BLOOMERS 12/11/00

Subj: late bloomers
Date: Mon Dec 11 22:08:09 EST 2000

The three Reynolds-Lockhart ladies - Mim, Elsa and myself - are each late bloomers.

I did not marry until 26 - practically an old maid back in 1936 - and did not have my first child until 28.

Mim got her bachelor's degree in her late 30s and her first very own apartment when she was in her 40s.

Elsa married at 37 and had her first “children” in her mid-forties - - a multiple birth, of "her" beloved 3rd grade, “adopted” back when they were in kindergarten.

Bloom we finally did.

Mim went on to be recognized by no less than the entire NJ State Legislature, who honored her with a official proclamation recognizing her work with NJ autistic organizations (VERY official, with high-falluting wording, fancy lettering and lots of seals).

Today, Elsa got to take a bow. She received the President's Award for Excellence, presented each year by her employer, BISYS Financial Plan Services. What a surprise. It was actually presented on Friday night at the company's big holiday bash, but John and Elsa were not there! True to form, they had cut out early from the corporate soiree, heading over to the newly opened Barnes & Noble/Plymouth Meeting, just a ten minute drive from the country club where the party was in full swing. She received a stunning star paperweight from Tiffany's and a hefty tax-exempt check.

The paperweight takes me back to so many happy times with Mim in New York. Mim introduced us to Tiffany's and we went there often. It was delightful to wander the story, looking at all the wonders. If you ever get the chance to see the Christmas windows at Tiffany's, they are quite a treat, or at least they were back when we roamed the aisles.

Mim opened our eyes to the reality that a powder blue box with white silk ribbon from Tiffany was quite affordable. They had beautiful wine glasses that were only $5.00 a stem! One Christmas, Mim presented the family with a HUGE powder blue box, (which I still have, tied with its equally iconic white silk ribbon) filled with a set of Tiffany Santa mugs which she'd nabbed for a bargain $20!

Because of Mim's early influence, the three of us pilgrimaged up to New York before Elsa's wedding so she could register at Tiffany's. (If you want an idea of what it was like, watch Sleepless in Seattle - the bride and her "advisors" walk along picking things out, a stylish salesperson walks a deferential few paces back, noting down the choices).

I believe the first time Mim went to Tiffany's (back then, there was just the one 5th Avenue store) was with Brooke, when Brooke was still in elementary school. Mim likes to tell the tale of checking out the diamond rings and necklaces, then asking the dapper gentleman behind the counter "Now, where is the good stuff?"

After we were done at Tiffany's, it was our tradition to head across and down 5th Avenue to Rizzoli's, which was the most beautiful book store I have ever seen. The wood work and shelves and architecture was out of this world. I was sad when Rizzoli had to move to make way for a new building - although I did feel like I got a lovely bit of innocent revenge when the building inspectors, checking out the structure before demolition could begin, found a Louis Tiffany or Lalique glass in the facade; the architects had to go back to the drawing board because the preservation codes would not permit them to move the glasswork outside of its original setting, let alone destroy it.

We have come a long way since they destroyed the magnificent Penn Station to build Madison Square Gardens. Architects forced to redesign a building in order to preserve a pane of glass - amazing.

My goodness, here I meant to be writing about daughters and late bloomers and I end up in NYC! What I meant to say, many paragraphs ago, is that I consider the personal changes I am currently experiencing as a late bloom, one after what I thought was a hard frost.

Reynolds-Lockhart ladies may be late bloomers, but my what a lovely bloom it is.

Love to all as I toddle up the wooden hill - TechnoGram