Pamela Braxton of Braxtons’ Boxes: ‘Better than divine’

Soon her eyes fell upon a little glass box lying underneath the table. She opened it and found in it a very small cake, on which the words ‘EAT ME’ were beautifully marked in currants.
 – Lewis Carroll (pen name of Charles Lutwidge Dodgson), English writer, mathematician, logician, photographer, and Anglican deacon, from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

Cupcake heaven.

Cupcake heaven.

I first met Pamela Braxton at the El Cerrito Community Center when my son Jacob and her son, Zachary, were enrolled in a pre-school T-ball class in 2004 – the same year she and her husband, Ron, launched their baked-goods small business, Braxtons’ Boxes (510.708.7089). Our sons attended the same elementary school and through the years they donated cakes for our school auctions. For my daughter Isabella’s tea parties for her fourth and fifth birthdays in 2006 and 2007, Braxtons’ Boxes whipped up the prettiest and tastiest cupcakes and petit fours, which backed up the “killer Yelp reviews” that the bake-to-order company has racked up, and perfectly captured their tagline, “Better than Divine.” It wasn’t until I sat down with Pamela, now 46, for an interview last fall that I got to know the back story of how Braxtons’ Boxes came to be.

Baby's first birthday cake!

Baby’s first birthday cake!

It’s in their DNA
Pamela has always loved to cook and bake, and during her undergraduate years at the University of California,Berkeley, her home was the destination for friends who wanted to indulge in her latest creations. She worked in the art history & classics library at Doe Memorial Library on campus, and served up muffins to the graduate students studying there. Ron also grew up with a love of cooking and baking, under the tutelage of – and sometimes despite – his mother and five aunts, who were constantly competing in the kitchen for the best dishes.

Delicate details: dots and swirls.

Delicate details: dots and swirls.

The two met on a blind date in June 1994, after Pamela recovered from a serious illness and relocated from living with her parents in Utah to the Bay Area. She recalled the stories about roasted chicken dinners that Ron had served up at two in the morning for his starving roommates. Her own personal experiences of his post-midnight French onion soup and chocolate chip cookies he whipped up during their courtship are fondly remembered. “Cooking was in [Ron’s] blood,” she said. It’s also his lifeline: A year ago in January, Ron suffered from a serious illness, and cooking and baking – remembering recipes and getting back in the kitchen again – literally helped him to recover, Pamela poignantly shared.

Pamela and Ron at their 1995 wedding.

Pamela and Ron at their 1995 wedding.

In the beginning: watering mouths leads to word of mouth
In 2004, at the behest of an old college friend, Pamela and Ron baked a chocolate cake with chocolate ganache and raspberry preserves, complete with a gold silhouette of Oscar on top, for an Academy Awards party. The cake was a hit and led to a request by a Bay Area writer and blogger to bake a cake for her daughter, then 5, that featured tie-dyed, psychedelic swirls of bright color and a guitar – think: 60s glam. By the time Pamela and Ron baked a cake for a friend’s christening party, word of mouth about their delectable cakes “rippled out from there,” Pamela recalled, and they were compelled to start Braxtons’ Boxes, which got its name when Pamela was boxing up an order.

90th birthday cake celebrates important milestones in the birthday woman's life.

90th birthday cake celebrating important milestones.

90th birthday cake close-up of these wonderful details.

90th birthday cake close-up of the wonderfully detailed milestones.

Through the first five years of their business, Ron was still working in the mortgage industry, but when the economic recession hit, he turned his full attention to their business in 2011. Pamela credits Ron for being the master, “the closet researcher and PhD,” or, as one of their vegan clients refers him, “the mad scientist” in the kitchen. Ron is a “fanatic,” says Pamela, about researching recipes and then “just knowing how to tweak them to make them better.” That’s how Braxtons’ Boxes develops its core library of recipes.

A box of Christmas cookies.

A box of Christmas cookies.

A Decade of decadence
In the beginning, they also relied on the organization, SCORE, which comprises retired businessmen and women who mentor new entrepreneurs. A retired baker helped them with procuring their licensing and creating a business plan for funding. “It was still very much a hobby for a couple of years,” Pamela said, of their formerly home-based business. Partnerships with caterers allowed them to expand their business. Throughout their career they have worked with Carrie Dove Catering, California Rose Catering, and Grace Lee of Grace Lee Events and owner of The Mixing Bowl in Oakland.

As all entrepreneurs will tell you, many lessons were learned along the way – for example, exercising patience and learning how to say no. It was a revelation for Pamela to turn away a potential client whose order was outside their expertise or expectation. “To be honest, every time we’ve said no, something amazing and often bigger, comes along,” she confided. In tandem with saying no is not apologizing. “Ron has schooled me in not apologizing,” Pamela said. “It’s okay that you can’t accommodate every request, to their exact specifications. You need to know your abilities, and do your job the way you do it. We have very high standards for ourselves.”

Cookies and brownies in a box.

Cookies and brownies in a box.

That said, Braxtons’ Boxes accommodates clients who have specialty needs or whose food allergies dictate the ingredients in their orders – to a certain point. “It’s a double-edged sword,” Pamela admitted. “It’s bittersweet because we have learned how to create something delicious without using butter and eggs – things you associate with a cake. Sometimes we have to say no because too many basic ingredients are allergens, and we don’t want to put our name on something that isn’t delicious.” Despite the caveat, Braxtons’ Boxes have been lauded for their nut-, gluten- and dairy-free creations.

After ten years in business, Braxtons’ Boxes is contemplating next steps for potential expansion. Pamela and Ron have researched operating a truck to be mobile and able to participate in events such as Off-the-Grid. And they have also considered opening a storefront, which presents both growth opportunities and enormous challenges and responsibilities. For the local community, a physical destination for sweets would be a treat!

A sweet hamburger cake.

A sweet hamburger cake.

The Joy of baking
“I love working for myself,” Pamela enthused. “I love that Ron and I can actually work together and not kill each other,” she added, laughing. Pamela, who had formal training in art since age six and has a degree in art history with a minor in French, also appreciates that she can express her art in this medium.

While bumps in the road are inevitable for any small-business entrepreneur – the learning curve may be creative and fulfilling, but it is steep – Pamela noted that the bottom line is that you enjoy the work. “Enjoy that you decided to do this to yourself,” she said. And especially enjoy the gratitude from the recipients of their baked creations. “That’s the joy – when you deliver those cupcakes with butterflies, or a volcano cake. At the moment of seeing our clients’ faces, that totally makes it for us.”

Pamela and Ron's boys in chocolate - Zachary (left) and Quincy (right).

Pamela and Ron’s boys in chocolate – Zachary (left) and Quincy (right).

Editor’s Note: Braxtons’ Boxes will be participating in the Lunafest Film Festival’s dessert circle following the film screening on Saturday, March 8th, 7:30pm, at the El Cerrito High School’s Performing Arts Center, 540 Ashbury Avenue, El Cerrito, CA 94530. Come celebrate women’s artistic vision in film, support the Breast Cancer Fund and other local organizations, and just as important, taste the scrumptious cupcakes and cookies that Braxtons’ Boxes will be serving and meet Pamela in person.

Braxtons' Boxes' reputation is certainly taking off.

Braxtons’ Boxes’ reputation has certainly taken off.

Astronauts, writers and turning 52

Feeling ready to do something doesn’t mean feeling certain you’ll succeed, though of course that’s what you’re hoping to do. Truly being ready means understanding what could go wrong – and having a plan to deal with it . . . Being forced to confront the prospect of failure head-on – to study it, dissect it, tease apart all its components and consequences – really works. After a few years of doing that pretty much daily, you’ve forged the strongest possible armor to defend against fear: hard-won competence.
– Chris Hadfield, from An Astronaut’s Guide to Life on Earth

Susan Ruiz, friend and fellow mom from our elementary school, recommended to me a book she’d read that provided valuable lessons in parenting. An Astronaut’s Guide to Life on Earth was written and published last year by Chris Hadfield, a Canadian astronaut whose viewing of Neil Armstrong’s walk on the moon set his life path in motion as a then nine-year-old. His goal was to become an astronaut, even though at the time the Canadian Space Agency did not exist. He forged on at first on faith and then by exploring every opportunity that he faced or mined. I’ve only read 80 pages out of the approximately 280 pages of the book, but I already feel compelled to blog about it because something I had read on the plane on my way to our company’s annual conference this past Sunday struck a chord with me. It was a timely, serendipitous moment.

Philosophy in the clouds.

Philosophy in the clouds.

Acknowledging my stress
I’d finished proofing my manuscript the week before and updated the query letter that I would soon be sending out to literary agents. I’d already sent out the synopsis to a former classmate of mine, awaiting the green light that would allow me to send the entire manuscript to him. I was also getting ready for the conference. And lastly, I was turning 52, which happened yesterday – an event that was going to happen away from my home and my family. You could say I was a little stressed out.

So there I was on the packed airplane, having snagged a coveted window seat, with the book on my lap for uninterrupted hours of reading. By then, I had already acknowledged my stress over the fate of the manuscript. As I lamented to a few friends, in particular my friend, Jack, all these years I had soldiered on to finish the novel and write the best novel I could. Many times what kept me going, when I was despairing that I would never finish it, was the fact that I could beat down that despair and actually finish it. I visualized the moment when I would finish it and celebrate that victorious moment against all odds. Other times, and more often, I just kept going because I couldn’t imagine not going forward after all, not finishing after all.

I am also a control freak. And I relished being in the driver’s seat. I could control finishing it. But once it was done, I was left in that uncomfortable position of having to relinquish control. Now it would be up to a literary agent who may spend a few minutes poring over the query letter, synopsis, and the first few pages of the manuscript, and either get pulled in or not. A sick feeling formed in my gut, again, which I had remembered and resurrected, after forgetting that sensation the last time I had finished a draft and sent it out. It was not unlike the survival-of-the-species mechanism of forgetting intense labor pains in order to procreate again. Once you neared giving birth, you all of a sudden remember the pain from the first labor. The sick feeling was understanding that I would spend years working on something and being in control, only to give it up and let others decide my fate.

More clouds for thinking heady thoughts.

More clouds for thinking heady thoughts.

Words of wisdom: never lose attitude
And then the serendipitous moment occurred. I read a section of Hadfield’s book that put everything I was feeling into perspective:

“Getting to space depends on many variables and circumstances that are entirely beyond an individual astronaut’s control, so it always made sense to me to view space flight as a bonus, not as entitlement. And like any bonus, it would be foolhardy to bank on it. Fortunately, there’s plenty to keep astronauts engaged and enthusiastic about the job…. I’ve never met anyone who doesn’t feel it’s a job full of dreams.

“Taking the attitude that I might never get to space – and then, after I did get there, that I might never go back – helped me hold onto that feeling for more than two decades. Because I didn’t hang everything – my sense of self-worth, my happiness, my professional identity – on space flight, I was excited to go to work every single day, even during the 11 years after my second mission when I didn’t fly and was, at one point, told definitively that I never would again (more on that later).

“It sounds strange, probably, but having a pessimistic view of my own prospects helped me love my job. I’d argue it even had a positive effect on my career: because I love learning new things, I volunteered for a lot of extra classes, which bulked up my qualifications, which in turn increased my opportunities at NASA. However, success, to me, never was and still isn’t about lifting off in a rocket (though that sure felt like a great achievement). Success is feeling good about the work you do throughout the long, unheralded journey that may or may not wind up at the launch pad. You can’t view training solely as a stepping stone to something loftier. It’s got to be an end in itself.

“In space flight, ‘attitude’ refers to orientation: which direction your vehicle is pointing relative to the Sun, Earth and other spacecraft. If you lost control of your attitude, two things happen: the vehicle starts to tumble and spin, disorienting everyone on board, and it also strays from its course, which, if you’re short on time or fuel, could mean the difference between life and death. In the Soyuz, for example, we use every cue from every available source – periscope, multiple sensors, the horizon – to monitor our attitude constantly and adjust if necessary. We never want to lose attitude since maintaining attitude is fundamental to success.

“In my experience, something similar is true on Earth. Ultimately, I don’t determine whether I arrive at the desired professional destination. Too many variables are out of my control. There’s really just one thing I can control: my attitude during the journey, which is what keeps me feeling steady and stable, and what keeps me headed in the right direction. So I consciously monitor and correct, if necessary, because losing attitude would be far worse than not achieving my goal.”

My room with a view in Orlando.

My room with a view in Orlando.

Applying wisdom to me
Now I will admit that I was skeptical when I read this section. I thought to myself, “Really? He had wanted to be an astronaut since age nine and I’m to believe that if he’d never gone to space he would have been happy with his life?” I think I even used the word “failure” when I told my friend, Jack, about the section. Granted, I was finishing up my first glass of wine at our company event last night.

I easily transferred his words and situation to my own. Was writing the novel victory enough because it took more than 16 years to finish? Was it enough to feel such a high and to feel empowered and truly happy when I was finding the right word, phrase, or sentence to capture the moment in the novel, to capture what my protagonist was feeling at the time, to capture the arc of the scene or the chapter? Would I feel a failure if a literary agent didn’t love it and fight for it, if a book editor didn’t excitedly shepherd it through the publishing process, if the marketers didn’t ensure its success by backing it with marketing dollars, if reviewers didn’t write glowingly of it in major publications, and if readers didn’t rush to buy it and share with their book clubs?

Years ago, Jack once quoted Hemingway, who said – and I’m paraphrasing and therefore likely butchering the original quote – that he wrote to be read, for what is the use if nobody reads your words? When I was much younger, I used to write but not want to show anybody what I wrote because I was too afraid of what people would think and fearful of criticism. Since then, I’ve written and continue to write, wanting very much for others to read it and get something out of it. That still means a lot to me.

Fortunately, the publishing world has changed dramatically since even late 2005-early 2006, when a version of the novel was rejected so many times. There’s online publishing. There are ways to get read. There are platforms, venues, and channels that upend the old way of being read. So do I need to go through the traditional route? Do I feel the need to face potentially more rejection and punishment? No. But am I going forth expecting such a reaction? Hadfield gave me new eyes into this part of the journey.

I love to write. Period. I know I will have an audience, but the size of the audience is not something I can predict. How do I want to get to the next leg of my journey? Hadfield stares fear in the face because it’s not really fear. For one, if you prepare yourself, you’re not facing fear. You are in control, and whatever the outcome, you will know how to react. And if you love to write and you have been writing for years, you have already led a fulfilling life. And you will continue to lead a fulfilling life.

As I turned 52 yesterday – not with my family but with my good friends and colleagues from work – I had given myself an invaluable, intangible but very real present (as did my friend, Susan!). Happy birthday, indeed.

My friends, or "frolleagues," celebrating my birthday in Orlando!

My friends, or “frolleagues,” celebrating my birthday in Orlando!

Treat your mother, daughter, or both to Lunafest

The more a daughter knows the details of her mother’s life . . . the stronger the daughter.
– Anita Diamant, American journalist and novelist, from The Red Tent

Last week I gave a well-deserved plug for Lunafest, the traveling award-winning short film festival “by, for and about women,” which will be shown at the El Cerrito High School’s Performing Arts Center on Saturday, March 8th, at 7:30pm. Lunafest seeks to “connect women through film,” which not only makes it a great Ladies’ Night Out but a wonderful Mother/Daughter Night Out, too.

Karen Grassle with my friend, Lisa, and her starstruck daughter Savanna, both of whom are fans of Little House on the Prairie.

At last year’s Lunafest: Actress Karen Grassle with my friend, Lisa Harris, and her starstruck daughter Savanna, both of whom are fans of Little House on the Prairie.

In our efforts as mothers to build well-rounded daughters, we expose them to various cultural, intellectual, political, social, and other events. We help build strong girls to become independent and creative thinkers, doers, and humanitarians by showing them what other women have created – be it a book, a piece of artwork, a play or film, a set of songs, a humanitarian or environmental initiative, and so on – and celebrating those achievements. Because Lunafest’s films are “by, for and about women,” the festival is an ideal event for our daughters to learn what is possible in the realm of filmmaking, an industry that has been dominated by men since its inception. It celebrates the myriad voices and experiences of women, which informs their life stories and makes their storytelling unique.

For us adult daughters, taking our mothers to Lunafest is a way to acknowledge and celebrate our role models for their hand in developing our appreciation for beauty in its many forms. We are also activists and fundraisers when we attend. Established in 2000 by LUNA, makers of the Whole Nutrition Bar for Women, the film festival raises funds for its main beneficiary, The Breast Cancer Fund, a national organization dedicated to “preventing breast cancer by eliminating our exposure to toxic chemicals and radiation linked to the disease.” Many of us have mothers, mothers-in-law, and grandmothers who fought breast cancer. Attending Lunafest acknowledges their struggles and successes, as well as honors their memories.

Catherine van Campen by her film poster for Flying Anne.

At the San Francisco Lunafest premiere: Catherine van Campen by the poster of her short film, Flying Anne.

When organizations across the country host their Lunafest film festival, they also support local nonprofit groups. So when you attend and bring either your daughter or mother or both, you and your family are supporting a community-wide fundraising event. The Lunafest East Bay Organizing Committee, in its seventh year, is also raising funds for the El Cerrito Community Foundation and El Cerrito High School’s Information Technology Academy, a small learning community supported by the nonprofit organization, TechFutures. ITA integrates core academic classes with the technology field, comprising digital art, web design, and computer systems management.

So bring your daughter and invite your mom. Bond with them over nine wonderful short films. Treat them to a cookie, cupcake, or vegan ice cream sandwich and decaffeinated coffee, courtesy of local women bakers and businesswomen. Most of all, have fun.

You can purchase your tickets here. You can reach out to me to purchase your tickets. Prices are $50 VIP (for the pre-event reception), $20 general, $5 teacher/student, and $25 at the door. Doors open at 7pm, with the event starting at 7:30pm, at the El Cerrito High School’s Performing Arts Center, 540 Ashbury Avenue, El Cerrito, CA 94530.

Eight of the nine women filmmakers at the San Francisco premiere of Lunafest.

Eight of the nine women filmmakers and one star of the short film, First Match, at the San Francisco premiere of Lunafest. Celebrate women and their artistic visions!

A Village in the Fields: a beginning for the beginning

We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.
– Anais Nin, French-born novelist and short story writer

I finished my novel in December, but needed to proof it with one last check. This past quiet weekend was the first time I was able to get to it. Now that it’s done, off it goes. The end of the proofing stage means the beginning of its outbound journey.

Agbayani Village in Delano.

Agbayani Village in Delano.

To celebrate the launch of its next journey, I offer the beginning of A Village in the Fields:

Chapter 1: Visitors, Abgayani Village, Delano, California, August 1997

The fever was relentless—like the hundred-degree heat that baked the brick-and-tile buildings of Agbayani Village. Fausto Empleo lay on his bed listening, the window wide open, the curtains still, the table fan unplugged. He didn’t move, though his body pulsed with the chirping of crickets. The groundskeeper’s dog barked, and he imagined jack rabbits springing across the fields, disappearing between the rows of vines. Dusk was spreading across the vineyards like a purple stain, a crushed Emperor grape. With the sun gone, the silver Mylar strips hanging from poles that bordered the vineyard lost their hard glint. The crows—their caws growing in strength—swooped down to snatch the ripe berries as the shadows of the oleander bushes stretched across the grounds.

The heat lingered. Even as the world outside went black.

Fausto clapped his hands. On the third try, the nightstand lamp threw out a circle of light. His nurse, Arturo Esperanza, had given him the lamp weeks ago. Fausto usually laughed when he clapped. The lamp was magical, Arturo had teased him. But this time he drew his arm across his face to hide from the glare. He sucked in his breath, making his ribs ache. Something was seeping into his nostrils—burning wax from a candle, the faint trace of sulfur as if from a lit match. But he had no candles. Again, smoke and musty-smelling wax filled his lungs. When he lowered his arm, his room was studded with hundreds of tall, white tapers anchored in pools of wax—at the edge of his bed, on the dresser, icing a bouquet of plastic flowers, on the windowsill, his desk, the top of the television set—spilling milky lava across the linoleum. The flames merged into a constellation of blazing stars. He turned away, his face prickling from the heat.

He shut his eyes. “Well, God, are you calling me?”

The wind-up clock on his desk ticked like a giant tinny heart.

“Because if you are,” he said, struggling to unbutton his shirt, now cold and damp against his skin, “I’m not ready to go!”

He opened his eyes. The candles vanished as if by the force of his voice. He shook his head. Why did he say that? He was the last of the retired Filipino farm workers at the Village. The rest of his compatriots had passed away. There was nothing for him here. He should be begging God to take him now, but that would mean he’d given up, and he couldn’t admit to such a thing—not yet.

He willed himself to sleep, but sleep came in fits. He woke up in the middle of the night. The lamp had been left on, but its light was weak and it sputtered like a trapped fly. The room was silent; the wind-up clock had stopped at twelve-twenty. Before Fausto could clap, the light went out. A second later the lamp came back on, only to be snuffed out in an instant. It threw out light a third time, but it soon dimmed and then the room darkened for good. Fausto drew the sheets to his chest, afraid that something was going to drag him from his bed.

He listened for a knock on the door. Didn’t his mother tell him, as a child, never to answer a knock at night? It’s an evil spirit come to get you, she had warned. If you say, “I am coming,” the evil spirit will take you and you will die. Though she had counseled him many years ago to be “as silent as Death,” he cried out now, thumping the left side of his chest, “I’m still alive, son-of-a-gun! You go get somebody else!”

Ribier grapes from the Central Valley of California.

Ribier grapes from the Central Valley of California.

Lunafest: ladies’ night out

Go girl, seek happy nights to happy days.
– William Shakespeare, English poet, playwright, and actor, from Romeo and Juliet

Today is Valentine’s Day, a day of celebration with your significant other. Enjoy the card and the flowers from your garden, the dark chocolates and red wine. Let it be the beginning of a wonderful weekend.

Then think ahead to March 8th, and start planning a fabulous Ladies’ Night Out. Make a long list. Pick up the phone. Blast an e-mail. Send out a text. Gather all of your girlfriends and tell them about Lunafest – a traveling film festival of award-winning short films by, for and about women.” Lunafest seeks to “connect women through film,” which makes it the perfect destination for you and your women friends.

The fabulous women directors, eight of the nine, plus the young lady wrestler.

The fabulous women directors, eight of the nine, plus the young lady wrestler (far right), star of Olivia Newman’s short film First Match, at the San Francisco premiere of Lunafest in October 2013.

But the film festival is more than just a fun night out, though there is a lot of emphasis on fun. Established in 2000 by LUNA, makers of the Whole Nutrition Bar for Women, the film festival raises funds for its main beneficiary, The Breast Cancer Fund, a national organization dedicated to “preventing breast cancer by eliminating our exposure to toxic chemicals and radiation linked to the disease.” When organizations across the country host their Lunafest film festival, they also support local nonprofit groups. So when you attend, you’re supporting a community-wide fundraising event. The Lunafest East Bay Organizing Committee, in its seventh year, is raising funds for the El Cerrito Community Foundation and El Cerrito High School’s Information Technology Academy, a small learning community supported by the nonprofit organization, TechFutures. ITA integrates core academic classes with the technology field, comprising digital art, web design, and computer systems management.

Director Danielle Lurie next to the poster of her short film, Tiny Miny Magic.

Director Danielle Lurie next to the poster of her short film, Tiny Miny Magic, my personal favorite.

This year we’re hosting a dessert circle after the film screening. Local small-businesses Braxtons’ Boxes and Green Girl Bake Shop will be tempting you and your friends with cookies and cupcakes, and dairy- and gluten-free ice cream sandwiches, respectively. Well-Grounded Tea & Coffee Bar is graciously donating complimentary decaffeinated coffee, completing the local community aspect of Lunafest in the East Bay.

Get inspired by the filmmakers’ unique visions and artistry. Support worthy causes and organizations. Seek elimination of breast cancer. Commune with your girlfriends. Meet new friends. Be a part of the local and larger community. Prepare to be delighted, touched, and engaged. All in one magical evening.

You can purchase your tickets here. You can reach out to me to purchase your tickets. Prices are $50 VIP (for the pre-event reception), $20 general, $5 teacher/student, and $25 at the door. Doors open at 7pm, with the event starting at 7:30pm, at the El Cerrito High School’s Performing Arts Center, 540 Ashbury Avenue, El Cerrito, CA 94530.

Director Celia Bullwinkel by her Sidewalk film poster.

Director Celia Bullwinkel by the poster of her short animated film, Sidewalk.

‘Falling only makes us stronger’

You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated. In fact, it may be necessary to encounter the defeats, so you can know who you are, what you can rise from, how you can still come out of it.
– Maya Angelou, American poet, memoirist, actress, and Civil Rights Movement activist

Celebrating the Winter Games with faux fur and velveteen.

Celebrating the Winter Games with faux fur and velveteen.

It’s the 2014 Winter Olympic Games in Sochi, and I’m right there watching the events in prime time. I have a special place in my heart for the Olympics, even as I have lost my childhood awe of looking at these athletes as flawless super humans and seeing them as truly human with a driving force that to me is still unimaginable. I admit that I don’t have the courage to commit four years of training for what comes down to a single defining moment for many of these athletes. One one-hundredths of a second could mean the difference between gold, silver, bronze, or nothing. One push, one misstep, one blink of an eye, one nanosecond of lost concentration, one fall could be the end of it all. Or is it?

I have many Olympic memories, but one of the most poignant to me covers two Olympic Games. Dan Jansen, the American speed skater was favored to win gold in the 500 and 1,000 meter races at the 1988 Winter Olympics in Calgary, Alberta, but fell in both races after his older sister, Jane, whom he looked up to, died of leukemia. I can still recall the stunned look on his face, the weight of his grief. My heart ached for him not because he didn’t win, but because he wanted to win for his sister and yet the burden did not buoy him in the way panic or fear can make people push beyond their limits. His grief overwhelmed him. In his final race, at the twilight of his career, at the 1994 Games in Lillehammer, Norway, not only did Jansen win his first and only gold, he did so in world record style. And he celebrated by skating around the rink with his one-year-old daughter, named in honor of his sister. Not all athletes who fall or “lose” the race get redemption, or even another chance for redemption. Jansen persevered, but for all the others who got up and kept going, no matter the outcome, they also carried on the Olympic spirit.

A peek of lace beneath faux fur and Sundance stack of rings, Anthropologie clear bangle, End of Century vintage chandelier crystal drop necklace (NYC), and crystal earrings.

A peek of lace beneath faux fur and Sundance stack of rings, Lava 9 ring (Berkeley, CA), Anthropologie clear bangle, End of Century vintage chandelier crystal drop necklace (NYC), and crystal earrings.

Through the years, I have enjoyed the human interest aspect of the Olympian athletes, learning about them in the “Up Close and Personal” profiles. For someone who doesn’t watch commercials – considered bathroom break times – I do pay attention to the creative endeavors and admittedly the memorable commercials that pull at the heartstrings. This Olympics, it is the “Thank You, Mom” commercial. It doesn’t matter who the sponsor is because it’s not important as the message itself.

A speckled pointy pump to top it off.

A speckled pointy pump to top it off.

No snub to the dads intended, this commercial pays tribute to the chauffeurs, the nurses, the nurturers, and all the other roles that moms play for their kids who play sports, whether it be recreational or competitive:

“Behind every great athlete is a mom hiding by the sidelines smiling and cheering. She was the one to make hot soup after practice. She was the one to mend their wounds after they fell. She was the one who inspired them to keep pushing.

“For teaching us that falling only makes us stronger. Thank you, Mom.”

Isabella on horseback, Santa Rosa, January 2014.

My athletes: Isabella on horseback, Santa Rosa, January 2014.

I don’t know if the sponsor of this commercial copied the human-interest story that aired during the U.S. National Figure Skating Championships in early January, but the message is of a similar vein. The story was about a skating rink that was built in Brooklyn, serving inner-city kids, most of whom had never figure skated before. I wasn’t quick enough to write the quote verbatim. But one African-American girl, who fell in love with figure skating, shared something really wonderful and beautiful. Whether she goes far with the sport or not, one thing is certain: She will go far in life. She said, with such confidence and exuberance: “When I fall on the ice and get up, my teachers clap. That’s because I know whenever you’ve tried and you fail, failure is the staircase to success.”

My other athlete: Jacob pitching, Millbrae, August 2013.

My other athlete: Jacob pitching, Millbrae, August 2013 (photo by Robert Milton).