At least ten times in the last half hour I’d been on my walkie-talkie with the kitchen, checking on their progress, and I’d done everything I could to delay the unveiling. I don’t know who was sweating more, me or Maurice. I’d convinced the bride that the cake had arrived hours before and was chilling in the walk-in refrigerator in the basement. But instead of being rolled in from the elevator, it was perched on the backseat of a golf cart, zooming over from the kitchen, where the last chocolate had just been painted with buttercream.
As the cake slowly made its way to the bride and groom, Maurice and I stood next to each other—hearts racing, hands held, braced for the worst.
The bride took one look at that cake, tears rolling down her face, and she said, “Isn’t it beautiful?”
It took me a long time to learn that sometimes in life things just happen, without our permission or planning. Even the most beautiful things can happen that way. Maybe the cake bride loved her wedding cake because it really was perfect, thanks to the minor heart attacks that Maurice and I had endured—but more likely, she loved her cake because she sincerely wanted to be happy. Perception is reality. She was in love and her life felt full; that was her perception, and that became her reality as well. We all have the choice and the power to create the reality that we want. That is a life lesson that I carry with me every day.
I’ve planned every kind of event the human imagination can dream up—events where every detail is so thought-out that the guests talk about it for weeks (even years) after. Those events are wonderful, and I’ve loved them and been honored to be a part of realizing other people’s joy. But the one downside of being an event planner is that you feel a lot of pressure to carry that kind of over-the-top display into your own life (case in point, my fortieth-birthday weekend extravaganza that started out as a ten-girlfriend lunch). Even your own dinner guests have expectations when you plan parties for a living.
For the past few years, we have invited our close friends the Fishers out to our house at the beach for the Fourth of July weekend. The high point of the weekend is usually a seated dinner for fifty, complete with linens, china, an array of hors d’oeuvres, and centerpieces made by yours truly. I line the table with real grass sprouting up flowers, and attach paper butterflies on wires so they appear to be fluttering around the table. I hand-paint vases, hang candles, and put on a full-scale production.
When I called to make plans for this Fourth of July, the first thing my friend Jennifer said to me was, “Jen, I love you, but please no party this year. We just want to be mellow and hang with you.”
And that’s a true friend. I was so relieved that I could have made out with her through the phone lines.
So instead of linen and crystal, it was paper napkins, three families, and Bennett’s grill weighed down with burgers and steaks from Costco. Dessert was a red, white, and blue ice cream cake from Carvel—the comfort food of my childhood.
The twins were ecstatic, running after the older kids like maniacs. Blaise wanted to party-plan the kids’ table, so she picked her own flowers and wrote out place cards on the front of seashells. Everyone was cracking up because her table looked lovely—meanwhile I’d slapped some dime-store Fourth of July paper plates on my table and called it a day.
The kids did chalk paintings on the patio and ran around the yard on a scavenger hunt. I ran after them, a sundress thrown over my bathing suit, not a stitch of makeup on my face, and no lipstick in sight. I was doing figure eights all over that yard, and there wasn’t another thing on my mind. Joy was all around me, and I was right there in the middle of it. I was no longer the woman who only helped other people celebrate life—I was the woman who celebrated it herself, and I’ll never stop feeling grateful for that gift.
The scariest step is always the first one. When you’re deep down in your own endlessly looping track, it’s really hard to see that you’re going around in circles. And the way out of that groove can seem like an unbridgeable gap. But sometimes the only difference between being in a hole and getting out is just one footstep. One little boost up, and you’re off in a new direction. You may not know where that road will take you, but you know it’s away from where you’ve been standing.
For so many years I believed that the only way I’d ever achieve anything in life was to fight for it. If I fought for my dreams, then maybe I would deserve them. Soon, the fighting became more than just part of the journey—it was the journey. After decades of fighting for everything, culminating in my fight to heal Grey, I had an epiphany one day. What if I was wrong about the fight? What if I wasn’t marked for disaster? What if, instead, I was actually a blessed soul, and wonderful things would come to me no matter what I did? What if I actually believed it was all going to be okay? If you believe in God, maybe you call it faith; if not, maybe you call it fate. Either way, doesn’t it make life easier to go through each day knowing that you will be able to handle whatever comes your way? Instead of spending so much energy on worrying, doesn’t it make more sense to spend that same energy on creating and enjoying the journey?
Everything in my life has taught me this:
You can’t control what may happen to you in this life, but you can control who you want to be after it happens.
It’s a very simple, yet powerful statement. Instead of fearing what will happen for my children in the future, I can just love them for who they are right now. Instead of fighting my body, I can give thanks for it. Instead of questioning my husband’s love, I can accept it with open arms. And instead of worrying about life and what it has in store for me, I can throw my hands up in the air and enjoy the ride.
Acknowledgments
When I actually sat down to start this book I knew it would be a scary and possibly painful journey, but I had no idea to what levels. While ending this book gives me a sense of closure, I am left with many new internal questions to ponder. I realize more than ever that I am a work in progress and that no matter how much I know, or think I know, what I don’t know is far far greater.
Even as of a few years ago, I thought I would never, ever tell (or write) my story, and look at where I am now. Putting my past down on paper makes me feel so exposed, like I am dangling naked from a fishing line over Times Square on New Year’s Eve. So, when I walked into HarperCollins for my very first meeting and the entire crew in that room offered such heartfelt encouragement, it literally brought me to tears. Thank you to Jonathan Burnham, Kathy Schneider, and everyone at HarperCollins for bringing my memories to life, and understanding that sometimes the darkness and the light can go hand in hand. Thank you to my editor, Gail Winston, for her insight, perspective, and strong commitment to quality. You have helped me become a writer, not just a reader. And of course, Maya Ziv, for your kind words and wonderful point of view. Tina Andreadis, I’m grateful for your help in promoting this book from beginning to end. Mark Ferguson, thank you for tolerating my endless virtual marketing questions, and to Katherine Beitner, my publicist: I knew at first type I was in the most capable of hands. Thank you all for understanding my need to get this book right.
There are many others to whom I also owe enormous gratitude:
Sam Chapman from Empower Public Relations. Thank you for getting the word out, for all your perseverance, and for being a PR guru as well as family. And to Laura Berman, what can I say, what will I ever be able to say, but I love ya real good.
Richard Abate, you were the calm in my planner-detailed, control-freak storm, and I thank you for sharing your time and your thoughts with me, and I do love it when you talk truth to me. Really, really. You were a great agent, but a better friend and advisor. And a huge hug to both Melissas in your life, for their help along the way.
Peternelle van Arsdale. I gave you scrambled eggs, you gave me back a soufflé. You hung in there with me, and I know I’m not easy. Your dedication was incredible, and I could never have done this without you.
The Save the D
ate® family. Thank you will never be enough. To every employee, current and past: you are the very best at what you do, and I am humbled by the devotion and dedication you feel toward our company. You all have taught me so much, and forced me to be better. To all of our loyal clients, thank you for all your professional and personal support over the last twenty years. And as we are only as good as our vendors and venues, thank you for helping me look good for all these years.
To my incredibly supportive book club (and my mini focus group). You have been living this project with me for over a year now, and you will never know how grateful I am for your honesty and interest. You wonderful, smart women have changed this book and helped me “dig deeper.” A special shout out to Molly, Nickie, Dara, Judy, Davie, Rachel M., Margaret, Lizanne, and Dori. Once I see the truth I can’t go back. Thank you.
Julie Flanders, I know you are there, even when I can’t see you. You opened my heart. David Remnitz, the best thing that ever came out of B.O.G. is our friendship; I value it so much; thanks for letting me play with the big boys.
Courtney Potts, from that first day you moved into the building, and I slipped a note under your door, you had no choice, I was going to stalk you until we became friends. You have always been my cheerleader, and you became my coach during this process. Thank you for reading all 100 (more or less) drafts with me and helping me think through them all.
There are so many friends that have supported this process and listened to all my insecurities about it, that I owe you drinks forever. To all the Jenns, Gens, and Jennys, I could not function without you. Carol, you are my sister from another mother. Suzanne, Danielle, Terri, Randi, Lauran, and Stephanie, better late in life than never. Stacy O., I love that real support comes from the most unexpected of places. To ALL the rest of my fabulous girls, way too many to name, and to one Jim Prusky, I am so grateful for your friendships, support, and just showing up for me.
To my Six-Pack (and a few more we have added along the way), I always knew I would look back on my tears and laugh, but I never thought I would look back on my laughter with tears. We are connected forever by love, memories, and now loss. Julie, you are missed every day.
Mom and Dad, I know this must have been difficult for you, and I’m so thankful for your love and encouragement, and letting me tell my version. My amazing sisters Rachel, Marissa, and Di (Deanna) . . . parts of this story belong to you too, and I could never have been brave enough to write this without your love and blessings.
Blaise, Saxton, and Grey, you are the loves of my life. The most important job I will ever have is being your mom, and I am grateful and thankful every single day for the miracles that you are. You healed me.
Whenever I have done something in my married life that most people would consider a bit (or a lot) controversial—like, ohhh, being on a reality show, or writing a memoir—most people would say to Bennett, “How are you letting her do this?” My amazing, proud husband would smile and reply, “Ahh, let? Have you met my wife?” Bennett, you are the truest, best, most secure person I have ever met. Thank you for knowing exactly who I am and loving me because of it. You are my best friend, I love you to death. MBT.
Live. Love. Laugh. xx Jen
About the Author
JENNIFER GILBERT is the founder and chief visionary officer of Save the Date®, a New York–based special events company. She was the youngest—and the only woman—recipient of the Entrepreneur of the Year® Award in 1998, sponsored by Ernst & Young that year; she was awarded Working Woman’s Entrepreneurial Award of Excellence; and her company was named among the top 500 woman-owned businesses. A frequent speaker, she has appeared at New York University, Columbia Business School, and numerous industry events. She lives in New York City with her husband and their three children. Visit her Web site at www.savethedate.com.
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Credits
Cover photography © Michael Molinoff; Sylvia Weinstock Cakes; Smoke © Corbis
Cover design by Christine Van Bree
Copyright
I NEVER PROMISED YOU A GOODIE BAG. Copyright © 2012 by Jennifer Gilbert. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Hannah Senesh: Her Life and Diary, The First Complete Edition © 2004 by Eitan Senesh, David Senesh, and Ginsora Senesh. Foreword by Marge Piercy © 2004 by Middlemarsh, Inc. Afterword © 2007 by Roberta Grossman. Permission granted by Jewish Lights Publishing, Woodstock, VT., www.jewlishlights.com.
FIRST EDITION
Epub Edition © MAY 2012 ISBN: 9780062075970
ISBN (Hardcover) : 978-0-06-207594-9
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