Every few weeks my job requires me to stay for the weekend and be manager on duty. Usually Celena was always the bartender on duty and would ask if we were married that weekend. I called her my weekend wife. She had been working there years before I arrived. We have spent about 12 years together and in that time Celena has been a great employee, friend and a good weekend wife for me. Sometimes I needed to be told what to do and she wasn’t afraid to tell me. I admired her for that and also appreciated her too. She took a lot of initiative on her own and she was well liked by all the customers and fellow employees.

For the last year or so she had been battling health issues and I don’t think I have ever seen someone so positive about their ability to recover from this. She went to Mayo Clinic in Minnesota every few months and in between was in local hospitals attending to her treatments. She would never talk about it or give it a name. I think she wanted to believe it wasn’t there. Maybe she thought that if she didn’t acknowledge it it would disappear as silently as it had developed.  Despite the pain, despite the side effects from the treatments she wouldn’t complain. To us at work, I think she wanted to act as things were normal and life would continue that way.

Deep down I wanted to talk to her about it, I wanted to know how I could help, I wanted to hold her and take her pain away. She wouldn’t have it, she wanted it her way. We had no choice but to respect her wishes.  This wasn’t about us, it was her life, her sickness, she didn’t want us to be wrapped up in it. She didn’t want to hear the negativity of us complaining about her not talking about it.

My weekend wife left us yesterday and I didn’t get to say goodbye. She wanted it that way. She wanted us to remember her as the strong one, the confident one. She didn’t want us to see what the disease did to her, she wouldn’t let it rob our memories of her. She protected us even in her battle. She showed us how to fight and how much she cared. She was a good wife.

I have a few Christmas wishes to share. These wishes seem to come more from the heart which these days I seem to wear on my sleeve for all to see.

To Marisia may we continue to have the appreciation of humor in our lives which seems to carry us through the stress that we handle everyday.  I’ll be home soon with a bow on my head. “The present that keeps on giving”

To my wordsmith and friend Eugene, I wish that I had half your talent and may you have the courage to be not so humble and shout from the rooftops that here I am come and read me! Also for you to know your not alone my friend even on Christmas.

To Christopher, may you continue to have the courage to do what you like but, never underestimate your ability to adapt and use your skills elsewhere when needed. Nicki, I don’t say this very often but you were right about our last discussion/argument. You have the ability to teach me a few things and for that I give you my respect but don’t let it go to your head as I’m still very hard headed.

To EJ, I hope you find true love in your life and may you always know that I love you.

To Charlotte, I have always been an impatient man and for you that has been difficult and I’m sorry for that. Despite that you have given us unyielding support and I am most appreciative and for you I pray that your pain dissipates and that we have your company for years to come.

To my mother despite our distance, our at least weekly chats mean more to me than you know. Being connected to family is important and you have never been far away in my mind. I am thankful you got to work in my industry so you have a understanding of what I do and I will continue to send you my love and prayers.

To my sisters I send you my love and my wish for you is that you want a brother.  The phone has always worked both ways and I also wish that you call me just to say hello, I do not ask or expect anything more.

To the 300 plus people that rely on me to keep our hotels filled and their jobs consistent I wish for you that we have the most fruitful year in 2015 and that you and your families are healthy, happy and may much love come your way.

To my “fathers,” Dad when its time may we have more time together, Orson, I hope you have the Fritos and Root Beer ready and to Walter, I hope we can ride together again I miss that.

Robin Williams brought me to tears countless times. He may not have been one of the greatest actors but his talent of making us laugh may make him more memorable than many actors of our generation. Robin Williams dark side was hidden from us and now it has come out to the public’s eye.

We hear it all the time that someone is depressed. But most of us just brush the idea of it aside. We say snap out of it. We think to ourselves it’s nothing and we go on with our lives and really do not understand what is wrong and really think they are crazy.

This year I came to realize that two friends of mine are dealing with depression. They both let the door open a crack for me to be able to peak in. I can say that I have a very small understanding of what they go through. I do have a better understanding of how some things I say can set them off and not want to talk and regress back into their own world. One friend has been seeing a therapist and I think it has helped. The other friend seems to be dealing with it on their own, which isn’t good.

Robin Williams will be remembered for his humor and how we all laughed with him. But, I hope he will be also remembered for bringing light onto the subject of depression. Maybe more can be done to help those people suffering and educate those of us who don’t have a clue. Maybe Robin Williams’ death will actually produce actions that heal the hurt like his humor healed our hearts.

In a workplace you are forced to deal with all kinds of people. Some you may like, some you may hold with great disdain. Either way at work you can’t refuse these people. You have to get along. With family it’s not the same. We hold back feelings, we bite our tongues, we talk to everyone else in the world about the problem, yet we don’t talk to the person that matters.

We love our families and we overlook things or we just keep them in. The problem with that is family members can hold that grudge for years. The emotional toll that can take place is excruciating. It’s like stomach acid just churning over and over again in your stomach. Sometimes what’s really interesting is that some family members have no idea that they have done anything wrong. On a job you’re forced to work out your differences, yet in life no one is forced to, or obligated to do anything.

In my hotels I have families that come for events. Sometimes it’s a wedding, an anniversary or even a family reunion. After 30 plus years you notice certain things. All families have these issues that come up. We’re only human and we as humans tend to follow a pattern when reacting to certain conditions. For many years I volunteered at a senior citizen retirement center with people in their 80’s and 90’s who still had feelings that were being held back or not expressed. To go through life hating someone for what they may or may not have done or even having the misguided thought that it was intentional to them, is a good part of their life wasted. God didn’t put us on earth to hate each other or hold grudges. What are we accomplishing? No good will become of it I’m sure of that.

When I have seen people air out their dirty laundry between themselves and patch things up, they then have years of regret of the years lost that no one can regain.

The wife and I have arguments and one thing we do is we get past them. People do have differences of opinions and we accept that. As I get older I also can easily forget about the argument that we had within a very short time because I let it go. As they say in the Disney Movie “Frozen” “Let It Go, Let It Go.” Live your life people! Don’t hold it back, don’t hold it in. Forgive and Forget. Family is more important than anyone we work with, yet we give our families the hardest time. They should be the easiest to forgive compared to a coworker!

I’ve been hearing more about my church’s opinion about Heaven and Hell and Purgatory. I believe we humans make our own hell here on Earth. The trials and tribulations with which we bestow ourselves would destroy anyone. We suffer by our own doing and we think we are alone with our problems; there is no way out and so we numb ourselves. How strong of a person does one have to be, to push on through the pain and be free?

My family, the “Adams family,” has a curse hanging over it. My father’s father was a very mean drunk and would abuse my grandmother. My father and his brothers had to deal with this as young boys. My grandfather passed before I was five years of age; I don’t remember him. Somehow the sins of the father became the sins of the sons.

My father’s brothers also struggled with drink. One of my uncles fell asleep, drunk and smoking in bed, almost burning down our new house He perished from the smoke. Another uncle was drunk every time we saw him. He always had a beer open, always made his family’s life painful. He killed himself.

Yet another uncle, returning from the war, lived on the streets. We never saw him much. He was always drunk or in jail drying out, or at the VA hospital recuperating. He visited us when I was eleven or twelve. He was drunk and loud, and I had a knife in my pocket and I was prepared to use it if I had to. My father was bedridden and in a hospital with multiple sclerosis. My grandmother was embarrassed and my mother, though a strong woman, was shaken by the encounter. Ironically, a few months later Grandma would die in the hospital at 12:05 am in the morning. My uncle died at 12:10 am that same morning. I am sure my grandma took him with her.

My father somehow managed the Adams Family Curse. He drank, but only at occasions with friends and in controlled environments. I think, since he was the oldest of the brothers, he had felt a strong responsibility to protect his mother and his brothers.

As a child, I asked my father if I could taste his drink. He drank martinis, and they do not taste good the first time. My palate of chocolate milk and the occasional soft drink could not accept the taste of this concoction. Later on, my high school friends would force themselves to like beer and then vomit.

I would have nothing to do with alcohol in my life. Genetic predispositions can skip a generation, but renew themselves in a newer, younger generation. I have had friends of years past take up the bottle in their daily life and have watched them lose everything, including their children, their relationships, and their careers.

It doesn’t have to be that way.