Norma Z. Paige (memento mori)

Norma was one of the many people over the last twenty years who gave me advice. She was born in 1922 and last week, she was laid to rest.

"Consider wearing lipstick," she once told me. At first that might seem a little anti-feminist (oh, okay, it probably was), but she meant to make me more visible. She wanted me to show up. She wanted to make sure I did not, as she put it, "just blend in." This advice about lipstick (usually disregarded) was closely followed by her firm injunction to "get up there and sit at the head table with the chairman of the board! You need to be visible in your new job." I was reluctant, but because I trusted Norma, I did it. Many years later, when the board chair suffered from Parkinson's symptoms and listed to port, I sat next to him and propped him up through the meetings. Then I silently lauded Norma's wisdom.  Even she didn't know how important that counsel would be that I sit with the chairman. It propped him up at the table. It propped me up in my life.

Norma Page

She bustled. She meddled. She nurtured. She sometimes actually wagged her finger at me. "You have a very challenging job and I have no doubt that you are finding a high level of chaos. Do not be discouraged by this level of turnover. This should not surprise you."

She was pithy. And direct. "Discipline your staff to always respond to the substance of the inquiry." And sensible. "Be prompt to maintain goodwill."

She was empathetic and kind. She had insight into areas I had yet to explore. I took notes, realizing even then that she was giving me pearls. "Elderly people are sensitive about different matters. Some want help and others don't need as much. We're not helpless, so don't render assistance unless it's genuinely needed." 

Norma fled to the United States from her native Poland in 1927 when she was five years old, a trip that almost surely saved her life. That little immigrant girl grew up to found a law firm with her husband, Samuel Paige, whom she wed in 1945.  They were married for over 60 years.  She also co-founded Astronautics Corporation of America, a company that still designs, develops, and manufactures sophisticated avionics and navigation equipment and systems. She was a dedicated mom and a generous mentor and philanthropist.

I was sometimes a little bit afraid of Norma because she was a badass, a fierce warrior businesswoman, and always quick to tell me just what to do next. These days, I still don't wear lipstick very often. But, I am more willing to be visible.  At her memorial service, I sat there with with a heart so full of tenderness and gratitude. Norma's daughters sang her favorite song -- "Best of Times" from La Cage Aux Folles: "...hold this moment fast/and live and love/as hard as you know how/and make this moment last/because the best of times is now." Those words guide my steps, even as her advice did for all those years.