'Tis Better to Have Loved and Lost...

A long, long time ago, when our girls were in their early elementary years, we adopted a beautiful three-year old Yellow Labrador dog named Sam, who had been abandoned on a busy street in town by his owner. Not only had he been unceremoniously dumped, but the shelter had been unable to find him a home, so he was slated for euthanasia. My incredibly big-hearted sister who volunteered with the shelter took him home rather than let him be destroyed, and contacted us about him. We took an immediate liking to Sam, and brought him home that day. He was an amazing and handsome dog, so loving and protective, and so forgiving of anything, especially little toddler nieces and nephews who inadvertently sat on him.

About a year later, we decided he needed a buddy. My sister told us about a beautiful Golden Retriever who was on a revolving door cycle at the shelter. The owner would run try to teach Jake, quite unsuccessfully I might add, to become a hunting dog, by using/abusing a shock collar. The man would completely lose patience and dump Jake at the shelter, and then when some time had passed and a cooler head prevailed, he would return for his dog. Well, the next time Jake was dropped, we received a call, and that day, he became a member of our family, and Sam’s best bud ever.

That was so long ago, and the years include so many happy memories, like the hike shown in the photo above. Our loyal dogs were with us to watch over our family, and especially the girls, as they grew into adulthood and left home. Almost two years ago, however, the tables turned, and it was our turn to watch over Sam, as his health had deteriorated, and his quality of life had reached a tipping point. Although it was difficult to say goodbye to him, we had been mentally preparing for the day for a long time. We were especially concerned about whether Jake would survive Sammydog’s loss. There was a short period when we didn’t think he would, and although he was never quite the same, Jake did settle into a comfortable and happy routine of his own.

Fast forward to this past Friday night. We had plans for the weekend, as most folks do, but they changed in a heartbeat on Saturday morning, when I awoke to find Jake having a seizure and a stroke. He went from being a friendly, goofy senior pet who would sometimes still race through the house for his beloved tennis ball to a partially paralyzed, confused and frightened dog who could barely wag his tail. The following twenty-four hours were filled with both hope and sorrow, as our gallant Retriever would slowly regain his some of his functions, and then he would slip backwards again. Yesterday morning, Jake was still unable and uninterested in drinking water, and his basic abilities were again diminished, so we tearfully made the difficult decision to call the vet. Our Jakey-Jake loved us unconditionally to the end, and we loved him as well. I am so grateful, not only to our vet who is always so thoughtful and tender with us and our four legged family members, but also for our girls, who happened to be visiting this weekend so we could be together to say goodbye to Jake, to celebrate the joy he brought us, and to support each other in our grief.

I share this glimpse into our private lives as a reminder that life can change abruptly, so you must take the time you have every day to let love into your life, and to let those around you know how much they mean to you. A heart that is closed tight certainly avoids the pain of loss, but I believe the greater loss is to have never shared your love at all. Take a moment today to let someone in your world know how much you love them.

Looking in the Rear View Mirror

When you took Driver’s Education in high school, you were taught to be aware of all your surroundings so that you would be safe behind the wheel. As you looked ahead, you scanned the traffic and the roadsides. You glanced regularly at your rear view mirror, where you kept an eye on the vehicles and the highway behind you. Any stationary or moving object that was close to your car loomed large and sharp and colorful, and sometimes caused you great concern. As you drove forward, however, anything that was a possible hazard receded into the distance, until it disappeared completely from view.

Many of our day-to-day experiences, especially the problems, are similar to those images in the mirror. Today, right at this moment, the problems are so close. We feel pressured and confined by them. We find ourselves short of breath, or with a rapidly beating heart even as we think about them, regardless of the actual size or scope of the difficulties. They may appear big and complex, sometimes perilous, or even insurmountable. We fear the consequences if we crumple in defeat, or we become very angry, or offended, hurt or bitter as we struggle to come to some sort of resolution. Yet, over time, the feelings we have today, much like the roadside images, often recede into the distance, and become nothing more than specks on the landscape of our past.

How can something that is so large and so very important, fade later into obscurity, stripped of its larger-than-life size and emotion? How can it, at a point in the future, sometimes even morph into a humorous anecdote that you share, such as “Remember that time when I was in high school, and I called you in the middle of the night because I got the car stuck in the woods on an ATV trail?”

Time. Distance. Perspective. Prayer. That’s all. Sometimes, it’s just the passage of hours, days, weeks, or even years. Other times, it’s just a matter of putting some figurative or literal space between you and the issue. It may simply be a matter of taking a few steps and a few deep breaths, and finding a different point of view to gain that fresh perspective. And last, but certainly not least, there is the sweet relief of sharing your burden through prayer.

Is there a problem or issue in your life that would benefit from the healing balm of time, distance, perspective or prayer?

I hope you dance

Many of you will be facing the bittersweet moment this month of watching your child head off to college. Your heart swells with pride at what a terrific young adult your baby has grown into, yet you are concerned about letting go, and letting them grow on their own.

I know. We have been there.

The first time we dropped our eldest off at college, I thought I was going to be just fine. I was so excited for her, and the plans she was making for herself. She was and is an independent thinker who is guided by a strong core of decency and knowing right from wrong. What could I possibly be, other than exceptionally proud?

Oh. I could be a blubbering mom. Just like those before me, and those who would follow.

I would get better over the years at saying goodbye, but as someone who can be brought to tears by the slightest hint of emotion in a TV commercial, it has always been a bit of a struggle for me.

We have been there twice, with both daughters. We have seen them off, not only to the start of their college careers, but also to side trips that had me stressing. There was the weeklong bare bones hike into the mountains with no soap or shampoo, and-gasp!-no electronics, that also required each participant to spend one night camping completely alone. (Quick-where is that paper bag I keep handy so that I can stop hyperventilating?) There was the trip we weren’t able to make to JFK airport, in NYC, to watch the plane whisk our daughter to Paris for her junior year abroad. That was tough. Especially the panicked phone call from her, hundreds of miles away, saying that she had left her backpack-her life, her passport-in the van when it dropped her at the airport. (She was reunited shortly with her pack, thankfully!)

Breathe, breathe, breathe.

The good news?

If you think your heart swells with pride and possibly constricts a little with concern at watching them leave home for the first time, just be patient, and watch them grow into adulthood. There is hope, for those of you who are in the midst of those “terrible, horrible, no good very bad” teen years. Much like the ordinary caterpillar who becomes a lovely butterfly, your child-who you may have joked about putting out in the yard with a “free to any home” sign-will transform into a really nice human being and a good friend.

Soldier on, my friends. Parenting is not an easy task, nor is it generally filled with gratitude from your teens. But the rewards are great. Grow them up, and let them go.

So what is the message here? I guess it would be to stay hopeful and loving, firm and fair, and remembering to look beyond the skirmishes of today to the rewards of tomorrow. "I Hope You Dance" is a song by Lee Ann Womack that my hubbie dedicated to our oldest daughter at the time of her graduation. It makes me teary eyed every time I hear it, as I think Lee Ann captures the message of love we desire to pass on to our children. A word to the wise: go get some tissues before you hit play, just in case...

Happy, happy, joy, joy

I love being married. My hubbie is my bff, and I adore him. We consider ourselves so blessed to have joy and laughter overflowing in our lives, connecting us with our family, friends and our faith. That is not to say that everything is easy-breezy, hunky-dory every day. We have challenges that arise, emergencies to be handled and sometimes, hard choices to be made, just like everyone else. But, that’s life.

Fortunately, when we took the big leap to get married over 26 years ago-yikes!-we both really liked the idea of a small wedding, so there was no disagreement there. I have seen and heard about couples whose all-consuming wedding plans often take a toll the relationship. I find this state of affairs sad when it does occur, since the newlyweds are far more apt to be focused solely on little things, such as the crispness of the napkin folds, rather than on each other, and all the friends and family that have gathered to celebrate with and for them. (A disclaimer here-I am not suggesting that the bride and groom completely ignore the planning process, and instead spend their days, eyes locked in love, gazing into the starry depths of each other's souls. Balance, people, balance.)

So, it was with great joy and laughter that I watched the wedding video below. If you didn’t get to see the wedding couple interviewed on the morning shows on TV, I can tell you they appeared ordinary and really likable. They just seemed real. And really, really happy.

My hubbie and I were so taken with their idea that we said that we would consider having a big wedding if we could do what they did. Take five minutes to watch, and let the joy in!

A final note: In case you aren’t aware, the only people in on their plan were the parents and the minister. None of the guests knew what was coming.

OK, one more note: I would say that this video is resonating with many other folks as well, since YouTube lists the number of views at over 12,100,000. Wow.

May you find a reason to be happy and joyful today!

Blindness and perspectives

Although the weeklong workcamp we just completed involved a tremendous amount of hard work, we looked forward to the evening programs with anticipation, as they provided an opportunity for fun, fellowship, and food for thought, as well as a joyful boost of energy at the end of the day. One night, our ebullient MC, Steve, talked about how we can be unknowingly blind, and how we need to change our point of view in order to have another perspective revealed to us.

A story he shared got me to thinking that we can be very comfortable and secure in our inability (or our unwillingness) to see other people or situations in a different light. We just know-without a doubt- that our crotchety old neighbor is on a mission to make our lives difficult, our child’s teacher is a control freak who spends her evenings thinking of ways to squeeze the love of learning from her pupils, and our boss is just plain mean, and devotes all of his waking hours to creating new ways to us miserable.

This perspective adds such order and satisfaction to our messy and chaotic lives, as it enables us to put people in neat, little boxes. (Yes, I do realize that you may be spot-on in your assessment of someone, but that is another post for another day.)

There are times, however, when we are given sight, when the hidden is revealed. We may not embrace it fully at first, as it rocks our world in an unsettling way. The voice in our head wonders, “I am wrong? No. Don’t think so. Can’t be. That would mean I am…wrong. I don’t like being wrong. I am always right.”

In my family we call this change of perspective “paradigm shifting without a clutch”, and it throws us, with much screeching and grinding of cogs, into a completely different gear. The voice in our head reluctantly notes, “Oh, I didn’t realize those circumstances in my neighbor’s life, my child’s classroom, or my bosses’ world."

I know that I continue to plug away about perspective in my posts, but stay with me here, as it is a lynch pin in becoming too darn happy. Your comfort zone-what I have dubbed for this discussion as your “I just know” zone-can be a space as confining and constricting as your Great Grandmother’s corset. It may be a small corner in which we stubbornly stay, facing the wall, and wonder whose fault it is that our view is so dim. I invite you to step up to higher ground, to an open space where we will gain a much wider view. That sweeping vista may cause some butterflies in the tummy, but it is certainly worth it. If we never look at people or situations from that fresh point of view, how will we ever grow and change in a positive direction?

Gather your courage and your walking stick today, and start moving towards that outlook.

Note-A shout out to workcamper B. above. Thanks for your willingness to get down from your ladder, be my model at the drop of a paintbrush, and cheerfully put on "a fresh look" and "looking as though something has been revealed".

More on Volunteering

My hubbie and I volunteer through our church with a variety of ministries. We have worked with our Food Pantry, which served over 3,500 meals last quarter alone in our small community. We both belong to a group that works on small home projects for folks who are unable to do these things for themselves. The biggest venture for us so far, though has been the culmination of our church’s year long planning for the one-week workcamp, which is done with our co-sponsor through the Group Workcamps Foundation. They describe their mission on their website:

How does a community respond to a tragic flood? In 1977, Loveland, Colorado responded by hosting the very first Home Repair Workcamp and the Group Workcamps Foundation began repairing homes – and in the process helped people in mending their lives.

At each Workcamp, hundreds of teenagers and adult sponsors come to a community like yours for a full week, and spend five days repairing homes for elderly, low-income, and disabled residents.

The preparation for the workcamp is monumental. Our steering committee requests applications from qualified area residents who are in need of work, selects the homes, determine the equipment and material needs, and ultimately welcomes 350 teen volunteers and their youth group leaders, who hail this year from states including Illinois, Indiana, Pennsylvania, Virginia, Rhode Island, Connecticut, Maine and New Hampshire. The vans roll in on Sunday, and out pour hundreds of kids, who bring with them loads of joy, excitement and an abundance of an attitude of service. They pay to come to camp. Yes, let me say that again: they pay to come to camp, to scrape and paint homes in the heat and humidity, to repair porches, steps and railings, to sleep in sleeping bags in classrooms on the floor of our middle school, to connect with the residents, and especially for the opportunity to serve, grow in their faith, and to show God’s love in a practical way. Cool beans, as one of my friends says.

Scraping wallpaper to prep for paint

Marking the loaned ladders

Here are some estimated numbers from this week, as we begin our Workcamp:

Towns served: About 13

Homes readied: About 50

Ladders loaned: Over 100

Volunteers arriving: 350

Goodie bags created: 360

Lunches prepped: Over 1,400

Meals made: Over 3,300

Hours worked: Over 9,000

Miles traveled: Thousands. Filled with many songs, bad jokes, much merriment, lots of junk food and very little sleep

What do they all add up to? Relationships forged. Paradigms shifted. Lives transformed. Really great stuff.

As I noted in my previous post about volunteering, I encourage you again to find a cause, a need in your community, even something so simple as an elderly neighbor who needs help bringing the groceries in from the car. I can't say it any better than Nike: Just do it.

A sampling of the goodie bag treats

Go ahead and volunteer!

In these difficult economic times, it can be so easy to feel sorry for yourself. The threat of unemployment, the discouragement of not being able to find a job, the increasing gulf between your wages and your bills, or a general concern regarding how much more belt-tightening you can do can take a toll on your good humor and overall state of mind. Sometimes, as I have noted previously, you need to take a breather and find a different perspective. I think Booker T. Washington-a man who was born into slavery in 1856 and yet became the founder of Tuskegee Institute after the Civil War-said it best:

If you want to lift yourself up, lift up someone else.

There is a lot of wisdom in those words. If you have ever volunteered, really done something for a cause because you believed it was the right thing to do, you know how amazingly good you feel about it. Not because it was necessarily easy, comfortable or convenient, because odds are, it wasn’t, but because you walked away knowing you helped. Yes, it’s corny, but it is so very true.

You can volunteer time, money, and even goods you no longer need. For instance, we recently donated our dog kennel fencing to Puppy Angels, an organization that does animal rescue and adoption. During the pickup of the fence, we met Dora, a young Pitbull. She was lithe and bright and energetic, she is the dog you see here with her pal Kelly, and Dora is available for adoption.

How are you feeling these days? Stressed? Down in the dumps? Feeling sorry for yourself? My prescription for you would be to get out and volunteer. You can find opportunities everywhere: your community, your church, your neighborhood, and you can do it once, or on a continuing basis. Reach out and help someone today. You really will be glad you did.

Happy Independence Day!

The National Memorial Arch at Valley Forge, PA

Photo by Kim Hall

The United States Memorial Arch, located at the intersection of Outerline Drive and Gulph Road, was erected to commemorate the arrival of General George Washington and his Continental Army into Valley Forge. Quoted from the National Park Service

I took advantage of an opportunity to travel to Valley Forge, PA, this past May. While visiting the historical grounds, I came upon a field that was dotted with reproductions of the soldiers’ cabins. I entered one, and was struck by how small and cramped the space was for six men, and how extreme the temperature must have been in the bitter cold of the winter. Knowing that General Washington and his troops walked these same grounds, and thinking about the immense sacrifice those soldiers made, I stood in absolute awe of their fortitude and courage. We are indebted to them, and are incredibly lucky to live in this great country.

Happy Fourth of July, everyone!

Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!

Ok, I was kidding about the lions and tigers. But, you know, apparently, word has gotten around these parts about just how yummy the bird seed is at that new place on the corner of Deck and Garden. Real. Yummy. What are you looking at? Haven't you ever heard the expression "hungry as a bear"? Well. I am both. Hungry. And a bear. Just let me eat in peace and nobody will get hurt. Just kidding about that last part. Sort of.

The Apple Genius Bar Rocks!

Customer service has been a big part of my background. I always strived to deliver exceptional service, especially while I was helping to grow two family businesses with my parents, siblings, my spouse and others. We lived and thrived by the outstanding service we provided to our clients, and built long-term high-quality relationships because of it. Consequently, I really appreciate what it takes for a company to do the right thing when the people and products don’t click together the way you had hoped.

Enter the Apple Genius Bar. I recently had the opportunity to use this service twice, in the Salem, NH Apple Store , as I was having difficulty moving all of my bookmarks, finances and general information-my digital life!-to my shiny new computer. In the process of the migration, something also went awry on my old laptop.

I made a reservation online, received a confirming email, and the following day showed up about five minutes before my appointment. The “concierge” (they wear orange shirts, in case you are in the store) checked me in upon arrival, and told me I didn’t have to wait in line, as she would come to get me when my turn came.

I sat down at the bar when called, and briefly explained the issues to my helper. Not only did the resident genius cheerfully, clearly, patiently and companionably help me get everything where it belonged so the new Mac was ready to roll, but also offered a simple solution to the issue on my older system.

Helpful Genius: “How old is your browser? She checks. “Oh, my… I’ll bet we can download the latest version, and that may just fix this issue.” She starts the download.

Me: I restart when it is complete and open the troublesome program. It works just fine now. Duh. I go to the bathroom in the store where I can slap myself on the forehead in private for not thinking of that simple solution.

The genius had me check around different areas of my new system to make sure the problems had been solved, which they had. Wahoo! I was up and running again.

I have been assisted by other Apple Store staff and have taken one of their many free workshops (imovie 09 is amazing, by the way!) and cannot stress enough how helpful, pleasant, organized, knowledgeable and patient each person was.

I love the service. I love the folks who talk to me in terms I understand rather than “geek speak”. I love not being treated as an idiot, and I especially love having people who can either help me with easy solutions to my simple problems-at no charge!-or can let me know if I’m facing a repair (you mean I can’t let the dog’s energetic tail swipe the computer to the floor, then spill water on it, and still expect it to work like new?).

This is what exceptional service looks like. Simply put: The Apple Genius Bar is genius!

How is the level of your "customer service" that you give to your family, friends and co-workers? I encourage you to keep the Golden Rule in mind: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. This can go a long way towards guiding you to building relationships that are a little less rocky and a lot richer. Practice this starting today. You will be glad you did.

The power of words

Word cloud created by Wordle

The awesome power of the handwritten word seems to be in direct contradiction with its often plain and homespun appearance. It can reach deep into our hearts to bring forth joy, laughter, hope and love. A wrinkled, grubby scrap of paper, inscribed with our child’s first handwritten words fills our heart to bursting with pride. A message of appreciation from our boss, jotted on a sticky note and tacked to our desk, reminds us that what we do matters. Short and sweet words of encouragement tucked into a family member’s lunchbox delights and uplifts in mid-day.

Do not underestimate the power of the handwritten word to touch someone now, and then much later, reach across time and take your breath away.

Many years ago, my hubbie decided to write a letter to his dad, Marshall, for Father’s Day. We had become parents of a premature baby girl in January of that year, and had gained a new perspective and much greater respect for our parents. (Funny how that works...) Keith put his blue pen to an unadorned piece of lined notebook paper, and poured out a simple message of love and gratitude to his very straightforward, what-you-see-is-what-you-get, old school dad.

I don’t remember Keith writing or giving this present, nor do I recall Marshall’s reaction. What I do know now, however, is this: Keith’s dad carefully folded up that note, and carried it with him, in his wallet, for the twelve remaining years of his life. We possess this gift now, as Keith’s mom gave it to us, in all its mildly tattered and much-loved condition. I came across it yesterday as we were organizing and repacking some of our stuff, and tears suddenly welled up, as I was struck by how much it meant to my father-in-law.

How incredibly grateful I am that Keith was able to let his dad know what he meant to him, and how deeply touched we both were, so many years later, when we learned how much Marshall treasured that priceless gift.

What message do you need to share with someone in your life? A note of thanks, support, humor or love? Grab a pen and some paper, and write it today.

A canary in a coal mine

Small cage with canary bird used in testing for carbon monoxide gas. Hollinger Mine, Timmons, Ontario, Canada. Mine Fire 02/10/1928

US Mining Safety and Health Administration

For those happy campers who may not have an historical knowledge of mining, here is just a bit of background. Early on, caged canaries were taken down into the coal mines as air quality monitors. If the birds died, the miners knew that they had to get out immediately, as their air supply had been compromised.

My doctor used this phrase on me some time ago, when I was experiencing an unusual series of health issues. My health practitioner is great, as he doesn’t just look at and treat the symptoms, but works at getting to the underlying causes and eliminating those. Might I add a note here that this is such a refreshing concept in medical care!

After several visits over just a few weeks, my doctor looked me in the eye and said, “Have you considered, Kim, that all of these issues are related, and that they are your canary in a coal mine?” After a significant pause where he fixed my gaze with his, he continued. “Have you considered that there is something in your life causing substantial stress, and that it is manifesting itself in these symptoms?” Another pregnant pause filled the moment here, while I considered making a run for it in my open-backed johny and bare feet, but much to my imagined relief of the office staff and general public, I did not.

My doctor did not press me for answers, but he had opened a door I had been trying in vain to keep shut. You see, I had a job in a field I loved. Yet, I had reached a point where I was struggling daily with giving my notice. I didn’t want to leave my position, but after my most recent appointment, I forced myself to take a long, hard look at what was going on. What I discovered-what I knew, really, in my heart, but had not wanted to see-was that while this job fulfilled a dream of mine, it took away other very important aspects of my life: spending time with family and friends, and volunteering for my church, and it was costing me financially to continue. I found myself on the horns of a dilemma, and was being tossed around hard by it.

Laura Schlessinger writes about dilemmas in her book, “How Could You Do That?!: The Abdication of Character, Courage, and Conscience”. Very loosely paraphrasing here, she defines a dilemma as the collision between something you want to do and doing the right thing.

Ouch. There it was, the epicenter of my stress: my desire to be in this field, at this job, bulldozing over those things I held most near and dear.

At that point, my situation was revealed in stark clarity, and I sadly realized I had to make a choice. Soon thereafter, I tearfully gave my notice, and yet, was surprised and encouraged when I felt a huge weight lifting from my shoulders as I headed home that night.

The various symptoms that had been plaguing me are gone, and, today and every day, I work towards maintaining an appropriate balance in my life. Some days I do better than others, and some days it takes something outside of myself to point out that the canary has flown the coop.

How is your canary? Is she singing a full-throated song of joy, or has her music been silenced by unresolved dilemmas in your life?

One for the girls

Normally, I am not a person who forwards many emails. Who has time, with all the responding required to those requests for assistance from deposed dignitaries from third world countries who are prepared to send you millions of dollars?

However, this one made me smile--even though there is no promise of riches within. I hope you enjoy it as well. I mean, really, how can you not just love this photo that accompanied the email?

One for the girls
Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord my shape to keep..
Please no wrinkles, Please no bags
And please lift my butt before it sags.
Please no age spots, Please no gray
And as for my belly, Please take it away.
Please keep me healthy, Please keep me young,
And thank you Dear Lord, For all that you've done.

Somewhere over the train wreck

Photo by bethinAZ

When I was a youngster, my dad played the guitar and banjo, and was sometimes joined by a friend who played as well. I always enjoyed listening to them, and was inspired enough to pick up the guitar. Occasionally, when I was a bit older, I would even sing out at public venues with a friend who was a much more accomplished musician than I. (We did get “Gonged” once in a contest, but that’s an embarrassing story for another day.)

Fast-forward many, many years, and much gathering of dust on the instruments.

Dad heard the siren call of the music and he soon found himself “pickin’ and grinnin’” again. A couple of family members and friends would join him to strum a few tunes, and those small gatherings have now blossomed into an official weekly Jam Night, replete with a full blown studio, which includes two mixing boards, sizeable speakers and microphones for all. There is no audition required; just a willingness to join in, play, sing and have boat loads of fun, as our relatives this past weekend enthusiastically discovered.

My daughters and I-while we can respectably carry a tune-regularly massacre a song my oldest has nicknamed “Somewhere Over the Train Wreck”. Our entrances are untimely, our “oohs” are wobbly, and we jump octaves in mid-song. I’m sure Dorothy is weeping copiously into Toto’s fur somewhere, murmuring, “There’s no place for amateurs, there’s no place for amateurs”.
However, we have fun. We laugh, we joke, we sometimes sing off-key and play the wrong chords. There are times we sound pretty good; we have noticed an improvement since we started. Ultimately, though, Jam Night is more about enjoying ourselves and being ok with our own imperfection.

Do you tend to be really hard on yourself? Perhaps it is time to lighten up, laugh a little more, and accept that it’s ok to be a work in progress, somewhere on the path between the train wreck and the rainbow.

For your listening pleasure, I have posted the video of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World”, by Israel Kamakawiwo'ol, the version to which my girls and I aspire. Enjoy!

A leap of faith

Photo by laurenatclemson

Do you remember the scene in the movie, “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade” in which Indy had to locate and retrieve the Holy Grail in order to heal his father? At one point, our hero was running through a tunnel, and he came to a sudden halt as his path opened out onto the side of a mountain, with nowhere to go but down. Indy was obviously torn, as he saw no way to get across to the next peak, yet he knew he had to move forward, or his dad would die.

He was at that crossroad where we too often find ourselves, where he needed to believe there was a way, and yet he could not see it. He closed his eyes and took his leap of faith-a single step forward-and when he didn’t freefall into the chasm, his eyes popped open in absolute surprise. He stepped back, bent down, and examined the area where he had just stood. Throwing a handful of sand in that direction, he revealed the previously invisible bridge. (Ladies, knowing that most of us carry pocketbooks, we probably instead would have just reached in and scooped out a bunch of the debris from the bottom.)

Indiana discovered that, indeed, there was a way forward, now that he knew where to look and how to see. For sure, this portion of his journey was not comfortable, as the narrow, aerial ribbon allowed no room for error in the placement of Jones’ footsteps. Yet, this adventurer made his way safely to the other side, to continue his life-saving quest.

So often we get stuck in our lives, thinking there is no way out of a difficulty. Yet, when we change our point of view to the possibility that there might be, we can draw on our faith and step forward confidently onto the newly revealed path.

Do you need to move out of somewhere or something today? Take a moment to find a fresh perspective, and entertain the possibility that there is, indeed, a way out.

In loving memory

A few weeks ago, I spent a day with my youngest daughter, and we drove up to my grandparents’ home in Northern Vermont. It was not a traditional visit, as my grandmother passed away just before this past Christmas, and my grandfather now resides in a nursing home. We visited the empty house this time-home to my grandparents for over 55 years, and for my mom for her entire youth-to collect Gram’s shells and bring them home.

My maternal grandmother was an amazing woman. She taught, she stenciled in the Early American style, she hand-made her clever and touching Christmas cards (around 100!) every year, she wrote three family histories, she preached as a lay minister, and spoke to groups about her multiple interests. Her shell collecting was a real passion for her, and she eagerly shared her knowledge with people of all ages.

There is an entire bedroom in her home that was dedicated to shell storage. Boxes of all sizes and varieties held sorted and labeled shells, along with her books and materials for her presentations. While most of the collection was kept upstairs, there were a few treasures that Gram kept on display. A lovely piece of coral and a Nautilus were two that Leslie remembered admiring as a little girl, and she asked to take those home, as well as a beautiful piece of driftwood that Gram had rescued from a Florida beach.

It was a good day, spent with a daughter I love, whose company I enjoy, remembering my grandmother, who was a very special person. While I am grateful that Gram has been freed of her physical suffering, I miss her lots, and I am sorry that I did not make the time in my adult life to spend more time with her. She was and is an incredible inspiration to me, and for that I am deeply thankful.

This week, we will head north again, but this time it is to say our final goodbyes. My mom wanted to be able to share something at Gram’s memorial service with the folks that will be attending, something that they could take with them in memory of her. To that end, Leslie and I designed the bookmark you see here. As Gram was an avid reader and a lover of artistic endeavors (especially those crafted by her grandchildren!), I have no doubt she would have delighted in and marveled at our creation. I smile at her memory, and know that she is smiling down from heaven in return.

Do you have someone in your life for whom you need to make time? I encourage you to contact them today.

Memorial bookmark (back)

A new day dawns

It’s funny where we end up in life. Very often, we find ourselves in places or doing things, for better or worse, that we never imagined when we were younger.

How about when you had your first baby, and you had to face the most disgusting diaper ever? Remember those sometimes endless nights of being up with your very sick child, cleaning up after her when she didn’t make it to the bathroom in time? Perhaps, instead, to make ends meet, you had to live in a place about which you’re embarrassed, or you had to take a job at which you felt overqualified.

Very possibly, you and I have a lot in common. I have done things with and for my children that still I can’t believe I had to do. I have taken jobs where I hoped no one I knew would find out what lowly position I held, and I have lived in places that, while fiscally responsible, were decorated in what my hubbie lovingly dubbed, “Early American yard sale”.

And we have survived all of this, and so much more. Being able to look back through that 20/20 corrective lens of hindsight, it wasn’t as bad or hopeless or endless as we sometimes thought. Oftentimes, what seemed to be a particularly difficult time or place, in retrospect offered lots of experience, a dose of humility, occasionally a funny story, and yet another fresh start.

Surprisingly, I find myself here now, a blogger, ready to share with you, writing about how we live our lives, and how we can move forward and be better, to find happiness wherever we are, and to share in the journey. I welcome you to this dawning day, and hope that you, too, will discover so many reasons to be too darn happy!