When you have no control over the situation

God, grant me the serenity
to accept the things
I cannot change,
Courage to change the
things I can, and the
wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardship as the
pathway to peace.
Taking, as He did, this
sinful world as it is,
not as I would have it.
Trusting that He will make
all things right if I
surrender to His Will;

That I may be reasonably happy
in this life, and supremely
happy with Him forever in
the next.
Amen

Reinhold Niebuhr (1926)

Until today, I didn't know there was more to this poem beyond the first six lines. In fact, until today, I thought it was an actual Bible verse.

I looked it up this morning because I wasn't remembering the exact verbiage, and the poem had been on my mind and in my heart -- guiding me through my days these past few weeks. 

Since retiring in 2021, if there isn't something already on my calendar that I know will bring me joy, I immediate add something that will. 

Every day. 

It's very intentional, on my part. 

Intentional joy. 

But things have been a little out of whack these past few weeks (okay, a lot out of whack), and things most certainly didn't go as planned. Not a lot of joy.

So, I had a choice: I could wallow in the worry, or I could make the best of a bad situation.

I chose the latter, but not before coming to my wits end. 

I recognize that we're not all wired the same; that some of us just can't think beyond how bad things are, or fathom the thought of coming up with a way to make things better. It's truly not in everyone's DNA. My heart aches for those who have trouble removing the negativity from their thoughts.

I live in gratitude.

Without going into detail, and with hope that this doesn't sound like I'm making this situation about me, my family walked through some serious "stuff" this week, and at one point I totally lost "it" and showed my anger; yelling. After a while and getting nowhere fast, I realized I needed to walk away and take some time to regain my composure. Yes, it took quite a while -- like hours!

But during that time, I realized I had been focusing only on those things for which I had no control; things over which I wanted authority; things for which someone else had to make the decisions - not me.

For a person like me -- a take-charge person -- that was most difficult.

When I realized that no matter what this person means to me, no matter how much I was sure that I was right, and no matter how much this person could benefit from my "suggestions" -- it was this person's journey to travel and I could only play a supporting role. 

And so, after hours of anger, pity, and even throwing blame, I was suddenly reminded of the Serenity Prayer and, instead, turned my headspace into an open field of gratefulness. 

Once I did that, I felt a sense of complete-ness.

We all veer off course once in a while, including me. But now, I'm back to focusing on my daily doses of intentional joy, which makes me happy, which then spreads to those around me. There's no better way to show someone support that to "be there" for them, reminding them of how much you love them, how much joy they bring to your life, and, frankly, showing how much joy you bring into their life.

You certainly will catch more flies with honey than you will with vinegar. Right?

Happy 51st anniversary to my one and only!!

My Sourdough Journey

 What I’ve learned on My Sourdough Journey

There are two reasons I started this journey into the food chemistry known as sourdough:

1. I was taking a class at my local college entitled “The Blue Zones – Nine Lessons for Living Longer” and had just read about an island off the shore of Italy called Sardinia. At the time the information for the book was being researched and at the time of its publication, Sardinia wasn’t the tourist mecca it is today. People in one of the villages located up in the mountains were known for living well into their nineties and many were in their hundreds. Among the things that are thought to have provided them such longevity is their diet of nuts, fruits, vegetables, Cannonau wine, and sourdough bread.

2. I decided to make a hard change to my own diet and began eating nuts, lots of fruit, lots of veggies, and, of course, added the Cannonau wine. Bread has always been one of those things that I can’t stop eating. So, there’s never any bread in my house, at least not until I reached that point of sourdough no return. I began researching sourdough bread, and began my own journey on June 19^th, after seeing a picture of a loaf of sourdough bread that had been painted with beautiful white daisies and pink roses. I thought to myself, “I can do that.” And so, that’s exactly what I set out to do.

Now, I had no idea that learning how to make sourdough is equivalent to taking a chemistry class. It’s a science project in sheep’s clothing. As I have since learned, having some chemistry under your belt wouldn’t have been a bad idea when it comes to learning how to make sourdough bread – especially when making the starter. According to Wikipedia, “Chemistry deals with the properties, composition, and structure of elements and compounds, how they can change, and the energy that is released or absorbed when they change.” 

And while sourdough starter is literally only two ingredients, flour and water, it’s the reactions that ensue from combining those two simple things that ended up rocking my world.

 Of note: While attending Florida State University in 1972, I registered for a chemistry class, thinking, “How hard can this be?” I had recently graduated from high school in the top 10-percent of my class, I had made amazing grades with little effort, and I had always been a quick study.

My first day of chemistry class as a freshman at FSU was also my last. I remember quite clearly the instructor explaining that the science of chemistry, and blah, blah, blah. Then everything went gray. I remember hearing something about nothing being smaller than an atom and something about a subatomic domain and it was at that moment that I decided to take the F.

When would I ever apply anything I could learn in this class to real life?

When class ended, I immediately went to the registrar’s office to find two classes I could take that would offset the F I would get in chemistry (because I wanted to keep my GPA up). I registered for Women’s Glee Club and Bowling. I could really belt out some tunes back then, and I had spent three successful years on a bowling league while in high school. Luckily, I was right. My two As offset my F in Chemistry.

Little did I know that somewhere in time, chemistry would matter in my life. (Sidebar: Kind of like skipping my typing class during much of my senior year in high school, because “I was never going to be some man’s secretary.” I practiced a little and showed up for tests and still made As. Lucky girl.)

Back to sourdough. Much like the micro-organisms living inside each of us, the bacteria that allows sourdough to flourish follows a type of life cycle. They are born, they grow, they multiply, and, unfortunately, eventually die.

For sourdough, the cycle resets every time we refresh or feed our culture. That reset is in the flour, it’s in the air, it’s on our hands, it’s in water, it’s in the jar, and on the spatula used to stir. 

I reset each time my son says “I love you,” when I learn something new-to-me, when I’m afforded the opportunity to travel to places I’ve never before been, when there’s a new moon, when I begin my day in grateful meditation, and when I end my day in the arms of my husband. Those are some of the things that refresh/feed me and make me grow.

When the sourdough starter that’s been fed fresh flour and water grows, it’s used to make loaves of bread to help fuel us. When I’ve been refreshed and grow, I’m then able to use my energy on the people I love and the things I enjoy doing. And, yes, even cleaning and doing laundry.

Just before the dough goes into the oven, I try to design a score that will help to make her beautiful. Is it necessary that she be beautiful? Of course not. But it’s not unlike each of us applying make up before going out with family or friends. That extra touch makes us feel better and, frankly, sends a message to those around us that we care about ourselves, too.

When the scoring doesn’t go as planned, thanks to my crazy tremors, it’s no different than when my lipstick and eye makeup are messed up. The bread still tastes great, and I’m still the same person.

 ·       My sourdough journey has taught me a new level of patience and perseverance. I’ve always believed I’m not a quitter (minus dropping or skipping classes I thought I’d never use in my life.), but I most certainly wasn’t going to be beat by wild yeast and friendly bacteria. 

·       Although I’m a very organized person, this journey has brought to bear a new need for paying attention to exact measurements and exact timing. One gram in either direction can be the difference between a dough that ends up heavy and one that rises beyond the top of the banneton basket. Exact timing takes practice. I was up all night with my first three loaves and my first try at focaccia.

·       I’ve learned that there’s no such thing as failure in this game of sourdough bread baking. My husband ate them all. As “they” say, “One man’s trash is another’s treasure.” About 30-years ago, I began decorating cakes, but believed in failures. I’d spend way too much time perfecting each rose petal, each leaf, each border, and not enough time stepping back and looking at the whole picture. It has taken me a very long time to learn to be kind to myself when things aren’t as I planned.

·       I find this journey to be meditative and it has helped make me more mindful.

·       I enjoy the process with each and every loaf and get super excited when I remove a baked loaf from the oven. Perhaps it’s because a friend told me to name my starter. I named her Julia, for my mother who would be so thrilled with this journey. So, she’s with me each time I step into the kitchen to dabble in sourdough.

 I don’t know why, and I’m not likely to spend any time worrying about it, but when I retired, I lost interest in crafting, sewing, painting, etc. All of the things that had driven me prior to retirement suddenly became of no interest to me. My sourdough journey has awoken my creative juices. Now, at any given time, you can find me working on a chunky blanket, canvas weave, macrame, painting, baking bread, or anything else that tugs at my creative heart.

Despite the naysayers, those who have been reminding me that I can go to the grocery store and buy a loaf of sourdough bread for $4.99, my journey has brought me so much joy.

Because as with anything; putting the last chapter on your newly written book, taking a cruise on a certain ship, winning an award, getting a promotion, celebrating your 51^st wedding anniversary – it’s not about the destination, but rather it’s about the journey.

Find the Good in the Past

Every year, no matter what kind of year it's been, there are those who are glad to see it all come to a close. Of course, 2020 and 2021 have certainly tested our grit, but I, for one, never want to see time pass. It just puts me closer to the grave, and frankly, I'm happy right here.

We sometimes forget that we all have different tolerance levels. What might look like darkness to one, might look like light at the end of a tunnel to another. What’s intolerable to some, might be a piece of cake to others. Here's a look back on my year and my wishes for you in 2022.

In January 2021, amid all the fear and misinformation, I received my first COVID-19 vaccine, while also learning that a friend had the dreadful virus. I’m grateful that together with distancing and wearing a mask, science has kept me safe from harm.

In February 2021, Mel and I watched as my neighbor’s dog brutally attacked her. I’m grateful that we were there to divert the dog’s attention so our neighbor could escape. I’m grateful we were able to help her.

In March 2021, before she was eligible for the vaccine, I lost a friend to COVID-19. I mourn her loss, but I’m so grateful to have known her – she was nothing but fun, eagerness, and a ball of energy. Her influence taught me the value of living; of being in the moment. Her passing and the passing of my sister in 2017 also influenced a decision I would later make.

In April 2021, a victim of COVID-19 and its new virtual reality, my beloved Crafting Sistas met for the last time. I’m grateful for the nearly 11-years we spent together each month, supporting one another, laughing, appreciating, creating, and loving. It was a great ride.

In May 2021, we lost a long-time friend who had been suffering with cancer for many years. We have about 35-years of memories shared with this friend and are grateful those times spent together far outweigh the circumstances of his untimely death.

In June 2021, a visit to the emergency room left me grateful to the salesperson from Seacoast Air-Conditioning, who was in the middle of giving me an estimate for a new unit when I suddenly fell ill, for staying with me until Mel arrived.

In July 2021, after an extended period of ugly estrangement, I was reunited with someone I love very much. I’m beyond grateful to have this person back in my life.

In August 2021, I was diagnosed with a chronic abdominal ailment that will haunt me forever. I’m grateful that, once again, science and watching my diet make it possible for my condition to be treatable.

In September 2021, amid the travel chaos caused by COVID-19 and with sciatica issues plaguing me, Mel and I traveled to Jackson, Wyoming, where we hiked more than 70-miles in the Grand Tetons and Yellowstone National Park. There are no words that fully describe my gratefulness for being able to take this trip and seeing these wonders of nature.

In October 2021, financially fearful and cautious of what the future holds, I retired. Although I enjoyed what I was doing and consider my former “boss” to be a very close friend, I no longer wanted to sit behind a desk, literally on-call for someone else. I actually made this decision back in March after the passing of a friend. I am eternally grateful to my husband for his support in my decision.

In November 2021, I came to a much sought-after realization. It’s been a bit more than nine-years since my mother passed away. I’ve spent those years reminiscing about our holidays and how Thanksgiving was Mother’s high holy day. That’s the holiday we all came together - no matter what -- and spent practically the entire afternoon at the dining room table, feasting on Mom’s delicious meal, the voices of the three sisters going up two octaves causing everyone else to go tone-deaf, laughing, joking, playing jokes on one another, listening to Dad’s tales of the past, Mom gifting all the girls her handmade cross-stitched ornaments of the year, and then enjoying Mom’s scrumptious pecan and pumpkin pies. For nine-years I’ve ached for that same feeling of contentment to return to my heart. For nine-years I’ve blamed myself for not being the glue replacement – knowing that Mom was the glue that held us all together. For nine-years I’ve cried about lost traditions. Then, it was a line in a Hallmark movie that actually helped me see the light. Yes, a Hallmark Christmas movie. It was something like, “You’ll always have the memories of those family traditions in your heart, but you can create new memories, too.”

This holiday season has been the best I’ve had since Mother passed away. I didn’t spend one minute of my time wishing or hoping for a Thanksgiving like we used to have or trying to recreate Christmas from years gone by. I have those memories to hold on to and I’m forever grateful. This year I let go and I let it all happen organically and it was fabulous. Thanksgiving at my son’s was the three of us in the kitchen preparing our non-turkey meal, crafting up some pet-paw ornaments together, and decorating for Christmas together. It was, by far, the best!!

Looking beyond the fact that we continue to battle COVID, December has been a dream come true. Mel and I went to some parties, met up with someone I love in St. Augustine, hosted my annual cookie exchange, paid it forward a time or two, celebrated a friend’s birthday, and then the three of us enjoyed Christmas together. No pressure to recreate past traditions or even create new ones, no sadness on my part, and no regrets.

So, as we get ready to close the 2021 chapter of our lives, rather than looking forward to its end, I hope you can look back on the year and find the good in it. These past two years have been a lot – no doubt. But they are also what you choose to make of them. We have each other and we have faith, hope, laughter, and love. Allow yourself to lean on one another. Be kind to yourself and be kind to others.

Cheers to a fabulous 2022 – whatever that might be for you.

-- Sydney

 

 

Gratitude Journal, Nov. 7, 2020 The Angels in the Tree

 Nov. 7, 2020

This is Angel Oak Tree in John's Island, South Carolina. It's a magnificent tree that's estimated to be 450-500 years old.

My big sister and I were planning to visit it back in August 2017 when we were going to also be at the very spot of total darkness during that year's eclipse.

That trip just wasn't to be, but my husband took me to see it two-weeks ago and I'm ever so grateful to have finally had the opportunity to stand in its shadows.

The tree sits among millions of other oak trees on a small island off the coast of Charleston. It's an unassuming location on a one-lane dirt road that could easily be missed if you're not paying attention. It makes you wonder how it was even discovered. It's far from the grandiose entrance that I expected, after seeing what I now know have been enhanced photographs of the tree.

But as soon as my eyes locked on Angel, I simply broke down and spent the next hour channeling my sister, walking throughout all of Angel's low-hanging branches, placing my hands on her bark, listening to the wind blow through her leaves, whispering to her my appreciation, and leaving her a few of my tears.

We spend as much time as possible camping, hiking, and bike riding. I love seeing nature in all its glory; the beach, sunsets, rainbows, the mountains, leaves turning in the fall, the shape of boulders, rainfall, rocks on riverbeds, and even the force of a hurricane -- all of it leaves me breathless every single day. Nature brings me joy.

As a result, I pick up pinecones, rocks, leaves, shells, and sticks off the ground to bring home to enjoy forever. Those little "trinkets of nature" are a constant reminder of the beauty that stands before us each and every day.

While visiting Angel, I picked up some of her twigs off the ground and immediately saw a way to enjoy those twigs and honor my sister.

I'm so grateful for sight, not only in my eyes but in my heart -- to see and appreciate the beauty that is nature.

Gratitude Journal, Nov. 6, 2020 Thoughtfulness

 Nov. 6, 2020

"They" (whomever they are) say we shouldn't be grateful for material things.

I once saw this quote, "Don't make life about owning stuff."

And, while I understand what is actually meant by that, on the surface, I have to disagree -- and that's what my own gratefulness is all about today.

Things make our lives easier, they bring us joy, they help us manipulate through our daily lives. Things are what clothe us and help us sleep. Things drive our economy, and it's because of things that most of us are lucky to be employed. Oftentimes, it's things that make a person proud of the obstacles he/she has overcome, symbolizing not wealth, but self-confidence and self-assuredness.

Things can and do make us grateful.

Today, I am grateful for this little turkey in the photo.

Two friends gave her to me as a gift -- not for my birthday, not for Christmas, not for any reason other than 'just because.'

To me, that means I was in their thoughts and in their hearts at the time they saw this sweetie on the shelf. If you think about it, that's very powerful.

Thoughtfulness! It's a super-power that can change the world for the better!

Never let your appreciation for a friendship go unrecognized, but also remember to appreciate those moments you learn that you're a part of their thoughts.

I'm so grateful for the friendship of these two people and the joy they bring to my life.

Gratitude Journal, Nov. 5, 2020 Sacrifice Leads to Best Life

 Nov. 5, 2020

More times than not, gratitude stems from one "small" gesture of kindness, understanding, or even sacrifice. But my guess is that you can usually trace that gesture back to something so much more substantial.

This morning my heart is filled with love for a person with whom I've had a relationship for about 38-years. This person has often reminded me of my "roots," has talked me down from ledges, and has never, ever not provided me with words of encouragement. (I realize the use of a double negative there, but it's the best use of those words for stressing the heart-felt appreciation.)

And now this person is willing to make a sacrifice for me that will provide me the opportunity to live my best life.

It isn't necessary for me to go into any additional detail, but it is important to know that the things for which we are to be grateful are all around us. Sometimes we have to stop and smell the roses, so to speak, in order to realize or see those things that make our lives better. And sometimes it's the unprecedented sacrifice of a friend.

Tell me about your gratefulness.

Gratitude Journal, Nov. 4, 2020 Dedicated Parents

 Today I will begin a journey of gratitude. I am not at all a religious person, but I have always been filled with much gratitude. Perhaps I don't voice it enough.

I am a firm believer that your heart, your soul, and your head, can be filled with goodness and gratitude with or without religion. Religion, in and of itself, does not make a person good. I believe the true measure of goodness comes from a person's actions. And today I begin my journey by sharing something I wrote back in 2015 regarding the goodness of my parents.

I would love for you to come along with me on my journey and share your gratefulness, as well.

"Nov. 4, 2015 -- Today I am grateful for the maturity to know and appreciate that my parents, both of them, did the best they could with what they had and what they knew during the decades we were born and in the small rural areas in which we lived.

I am also grateful, though it was hard for them to do it, that they relocated from Southern Illinois to Miami where I was raised. I am grateful for my upbringing, that I did not miss the life lessons of my parents, and grateful for their daily guidance still today."

I'm so grateful to have come from two people whom were dedicated parents and grandparents.

Mirror, mirror on the wall...

Tomorrow is seven-years since my mother passed away, and in her honor, I’m going to tackle things with some light humor and take you on a short journey through my life with her special quotes. In fact, we’ve all heard them. Most of us have even spoken them.

Mommyisms.

Those things your mother said that most likely weren’t even true, but when she said it, her voice rang with the authenticity that only a mother can procure. Right?

Like, “If you eat a seed, a tree will grow in your tummy.” Or “There’s enough dirt in those ears to grow potatoes.” And the dreaded “If you tell me one more ‘story’ Sydney Lea, your nose is going to grow like a carrot.”

I’m not kidding when I tell you that as a very small child, I was constantly looking in the mirror to see if there were any signs of vegetables growing out my ears!

You all know how much I love and miss my mother. So, I thought it would be fun to shed some light on a few of my mother’s quotes that may explain why I am who I am today. I’m sure you’ve heard them or at least some version of these “mommyisms”.

We’ll start with this: My mother absolutely hated to hear my younger sister and me whine, and we weren't allowed to mope. In fact, forget about crying, too.

Whatever the circumstances, we were expected to "dry it up."

"Pick up your lip or someone's going to step on it."

“Quit your bellyaching!”

"Stop crying, or I'll give you something to cry about!"

Naturally we didn't want that last one to happen, because that would mean getting hit on the behind with the dirty fly swatter.

And who wants that to happen? Yuck! Trust me, that fly swatter served a duel purpose. Growing up in Miami without air-conditioning meant the windows were always open.

Mother wasn’t the kind of person to use the “I’m going to give you until the count of three” line, nor the “Just wait until your father gets home” line. My mother handled things. Period.

When I wanted something she wouldn’t let me have, or I wanted to do something that she wouldn’t give me permission to do, I’d fold my arms in front of me and pout. I often heard, "You can get glad in the same pants you got mad in, young lady."

My mom’s "The world doesn't owe you a thing" taught me that the sooner I take responsibility for my actions, the better off I'd be.

Do you remember after getting in trouble for doing something you knew you shouldn’t have been doing, saying to your mother, “Well, everyone else was doing it” ??

And her response would be, "If your friends jumped off the bridge, would you?"

Of course, when my mother would ask me that question, I wanted to ask her, “That depends, Mom. Who else is going?” and “What are they wearing?"

Ha ha ha

But a level head prevailed, which kept me from actually being pushed off that bridge.

Mother also said, "There's no sense in crying over spilled milk." That's a lesson that, to this day, I still haven’t learned. I've just never been able to turn my emotions off and on like a water faucet – ‘though I sure wish I could.

Another memory I have is when I wanted to have my ears pierced. Mom said, "If God had wanted you to have holes in your ears, he would have put them there himself." So, every time I asked her if I could get my ears pierced, she said “No.”

If you know me, then you know my ears are pierced, and I didn’t wait until I was an adult to do it. Being a do-it-yourself kind of gal (learned through Girl Scouting with my mom as my leader for many years), and although I was only 13-years old, I simply got some ice, froze my earlobes one at a time and poked a sewing needle and thread right through them. I was petrified when I couldn't get one of my ears to stop bleeding -- but that "don't cry over spilled milk" thing sure came in handy at the time.

Here’s the thing, though: From my earliest memories, I knew that the same woman who tanned my hide with that disgustingly dirty fly swatter also had my back. Always!

She was proud of every one of my accomplishments; from learning how to play the flutophone in elementary school to becoming the editor of a social magazine and everything in-between. She was also proud of me during failures.

Mother played a huge role in why I was always able to get so much done in so little time. When I’d tell her my plans, she’d always reply, “You’re going to do wonders and eat green cucumbers.” (That happens to be my favorite Julia mommyism.) She had incredible faith in me; that I’d accomplish whatever I set out to do.

Mom also taught me that "Into every life a little rain must fall, but if you have a good umbrella and a tube of red lipstick, you can get through anything." That's a life lesson that I hope I've passed on to my son (except maybe for the red lipstick part). (And now you know why my lips are always red.)

She taught me by example just how important it is for my own son to know there is always someone there rooting for him; someone who loves him unconditionally.

For her birthday in 2011, I gave her a book about the kind of love that was shared by the two of us. In it was a quote that quickly became one of her favorites:

“But if I will love, then I will find I have touched another life, and that’s something. Something worth leaving behind.”

Not long after my mother passed away, I bought a small sign I saw in the window of a gift shop.

It says, “Mirror mirror on the wall, I am my mother afterall.”

Big shoes to fill. I want so much for that to be true, because she was the BEST and there are far worse things than being like her. Right?

It's Not The End of the Road. It's the Beginning of Dual Income.

Smack in the middle of vacation season, today I applied for my right to my money that's been set aside by my own Uncle Sam out of my paychecks for my retirement for the past 49-years. How sweet of him.

Vacation season? Well, isn't that normally when the sun's to our backs as we linger with toes in the sand and conjured dreams of retirement? So, it's only fitting that today's the day I begin making my way to fulfilling that dream. 

But it wasn't all a party this morning as I stood in line with at least 60 other people, waiting to see a Social Security professional. Like a fool, instead of celebrating my additional income that will begin in November, I got caught up in all these thoughts of when I was in high school. 

Like, when did this happen? What the hell? 

Just yesterday I was trying out for the flag corp. In fact, just yesterday I got in trouble for wearing my skirt too short and had to be picked up from school by my dad. (Whom, by the way, thought I looked great and thought the dress code was too firm. -- Some things never change.) Yesterday I walked out of my English class, because the teacher was leading the students in a heated debate about the Vietnam conflict. I didn't think that was the place to be talking about war. So, I left. Yesterday my big sister was teaching me how to put on panty hose. Yesterday I was making plans for the annual Spirit Week that culminated with a great football game and a fun Homecoming dance. Yesterday I auditioned for a part in the senior play, and got it! Yesterday I skipped my typing class, because "I'm never, ever going to be some man's secretary." Yesterday I posed for my senior photo in the yearbook. Yesterday we voted on our class song, "Wooden Ships" by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. Yesterday I was spending my summers at camp in Leesburg. Yesterday my girlfriends and I were inseparable. 

Yesterday I could eat ANYTHING!

Yesterday I didn't have a care in the world. 

Yesterday things were easy. 

So, there I am standing in line at the local Social Security office and instead of having a private celebration, I'm having what I think is a very public mini-breakdown, tears streaming down my face.

What the hell?  Right?

"Pull it together, Sydney!" I say to myself. "This isn't about your mortality. It's simply about getting what's rightfully yours!"

And then I'm suddenly reminded that when you think you're at the end of something, it usually means you're at the beginning of something else.

So, my new beginning, temporary 'though it will be, is having a duel income. How cool is that?

Montana, Wyoming, and Utah, here we come!

I plan to continue to work full-time for a couple of years. 

Afterall, I still have what it takes to be really good at whatever I do. 

I still have it in me to be viable. 

I still enjoy working. 

So why not? 

And you're never too old to set a new goal or to live a new dream.

Besides, how many times can you clean out your closet?

When I do finally retire, I'm going to get up early in the morning and drive around really slowly so I can make everyone late for work, and I'm going to do my grocery shopping at 5:15, so I can drive crazy all the worker bees who stop in for a few things before heading home.

Just kidding.

Socialism is a scareword they have hurled at every advance the people have made in the last 20 years. Socialism is what they called public power. Socialism is what they called social security. Socialism is what they called farm price supports. Socialism is what they called bank deposit insurance. Socialism is what they called the growth of free and independent labor organizations. Socialism is their name for almost anything that helps all the people.

HARRY S. TRUMAN, speech, October 10, 1952

Should any political party attempt to abolish social security, unemployment insurance, and eliminate labor laws and farm programs, you would not hear of that party again in our political history.

DWIGHT D. EISENHOWER, letter to Edgar Newton Eisenhower, November 8, 1954

Facing the Unknown

The very last words I ever thought I'd hear my husband say, and seriously mean them, were uttered by him today as the nurse wheeled him into the OR for biopsies on some lymph nodes that look suspicious.

"I feel like I'm facing a firing squad."

My heart sank.

The unknown. Uncertainty. Randomness. Fate. 

Regardless of the name given to it, this force can alter our lives in the blink of an eye. Whether we're aware of it or not, it permeates all aspects of our lives. It affects our mood, how we treat our family and friends, and our anxiety levels.

Simply put, the unknown wreaks havoc.

Everything is humming along perfectly - job/work, family, relationships - when suddenly you're blind-sided with an unexpected issue. Like they say, "It's always something, right?"

Annoyances pop up all the time; testing our patience. The car breaks down on the very day you're starting a new job. Horrific traffic gets between you and an important appointment. The cable goes out while you're watching that one football game you've been waiting for all season.

That's all small stuff when it's compared to life's unexpected curveballs; the passing of a loved one, a natural disaster, or being faced with your own health problem.

At the very moment that my husband said those eight words, I realized that regardless of the outcome of today's tests, our "normal" life together ceases to exist and will be replaced by something many people call the "new normal."

Separately and together, we are facing a major change in our lives. To get to this point, it has already been a rather long journey; months of visits with doctors as far away as 120-miles, blood tests, invasive examinations, drug therapy, and x-rays of every type.

My husband's never had a single health issue. This "unknown" has been eating him up. Hearing him say those eight words, well frankly, made my heart stop. As the love of my life was wheeled away and I was told to settle into the waiting room, the hallway got longer, the lights went dim, and I became consumed in the beast, myself. The Unknown. 

We are a partnership. He's my confidant, my advisor, my best friend, and the person I go to with all my trouble.  And - I am his.

We are in this together, always. The plan is to continue to grow old together, holding hands and sitting in rockers on the front porch. We've been together more than 45-years. It ain't over, yet.

I've learned much from the passing of my father, then my mother, and then most recently my sister. But health scares like this tend to force us to evaluate and then reevaluate all that is important to us. 

My husband, to put it simply, is a really good man. He has integrity and character, is fair and kind, exudes confidence and courageousness, and shares his life with me. 

This Friday the unknown will also cease to exist. The road to creating our "new normal" with a plan for handling the outcome of all the testing will be paved.

I'm grateful for his strength, and for him seeing the strength in me. Together we will accept our new normal and conquer our fears.

Words Matter -- This time, in a good way

At one point in all of our lives, we've been told by our parents, teachers, clergy, and others, that words matter. It's usually in the aftermath of something horrific happening as a result of throwing insults at or bullying others.

But this morning my husband handed his phone to me so I could read an email that had been sent to him by an old high school friend; someone with whom we haven't been in touch in many years. The email was actually intended for me, but she didn't have my contact information - so she went through my husband in hopes of reaching me.

There is no need for me to go into her exact words, but please know that she inspired me to be all I could be today. Her words made all the difference in the world to me -- today. 

Those of you who know me, also know that I lost my sister nearly a year ago. Facebook reminds me of this everyday, while it automatically shows me photos I posted of her during the month of her sudden illness. And you also know that I fall into slumps because of my 'aloneness' since she's been gone.

I can't say that our friend's words pulled me out of my "slump," but I can say that sometimes -- when you least expect it -- there's someone who comes out of nowhere and has a positive influence on your day. Maybe even without meaning to or even knowing.

This is a particularly hard week. On the 23rd, it will be a year since I watched my sister open her eyes for the last time and take her last breath. It will be a year since I've seen her beautiful smile and heard her soft and calming voice.

Locally, everyone sees me out and about, putting on the happy face they all expect to see. It would probably be very shocking for them to learn where I am in my head most of the time. Most people put a time limit on grief and the sadness that ensues after the loss of a loved one. Most people see themselves as helping by avoiding the topic. Most people don't really know or want to know how to help.

The truth is that in this mature adult life I am now living, I have learned how to cocoon myself in order to hide what I'm going through. And in that cocoon, I try to think away the pain. By that I mean that I keep myself busy -- usually in my craft studio. I know that's unhealthy, but to be honest, I'm afraid that if I allow myself to breakdown, I'll be forever broken. 

I'm lonely and I'm heartbroken, but I'm also very angry about her death. I blame this country's failing healthcare system; a system that doesn't really care about the health of the people paying into it, but rather it cares only about its profits.

I'd rather be numb. I wish I could be numb.

I miss my big sister. Without her, I feel like a bird whose wings have been clipped. She was my best friend, and like my mother, she was on the Sydney cheerleading squad. When those positive voices leave your life, your soul becomes empty.

This morning, my friend's words lifted me and reminded me of things my sister used to say to me. My friend didn't know my sister, didn't know about my loss, didn't know anything -- and still doesn't. She felt compelled to reach out to me for other reasons, and her words motivated me to "do wonders and eat green cucumbers" (as my mother used to say). 

I did cocoon myself today, but also completed quite a few projects. I know I'll be in my cocoon for the next few weeks. So, if any of you reading this are local friends, please know that if I don't seem to be "myself" for a few days -- I really am.