Good Will Toward Men, Women and Children

This is the time of year people like to grab the Christmas spirit and do their part to help local charities and needy families.
I think this is wonderful. There are so many people in these difficult economic times who are going without, who have lost their jobs or are having a hard time just making ends meet. Food pantries, homeless shelters and hundreds of social service agencies are dependent on donations, both cash and in kind.

Of course it would be great if we participated in this kind of giving and good will all year long. Wouldn’t that be amazing? There would then probably be no need for all the fund raising at the holidays! Maybe.
Apparently some of us need the holiday season to jolt them into the giving spirit. As someone who worked for nonprofits 99% of my career, I am eternally grateful that November and December bring this side out in people.

Something I have noticed lately on Facebook and other social networks I peruse is that many seem to think they must announce their giving /donations to the world. Or they create a competition to see if they can guilt people into giving or turn giving into a contest to see who gives the most! Remember Oprah’s Big Give?
The winner actually won money for giving! I also noticed it lasted only one season.

GEESH!!!!! Whatever happened to giving to help others? Just to be nice? Just to be kind? Just to give back because you have been blessed with so much?
I was raised in a home where even though there was an outrageous amount of dysfunction going on and we probably could have used the food pantry ourselves at times, my mom still believed in helping from the heart. She also believed in doing your giving anonymously. My mom was a strong example of Humility In Action.
She taught us: if you do something nice for others, you don’t take credit for it, brag about it or tell others they should be doing the same thing! Once I left home, she always shone by example and never pushed me to donate as she did. Of course being raised as I was, I wanted to give back also. I have to admit there were times when we were very close to needing help ourselves and could only manage to give a few cans of soup or beans to the local food bank.

On the other side of the fence, I have heard friends brag about paying it forward at Starbucks!!!!
Not only do I consider it in poor taste to brag about it but if someone is in line in their SUV at Starbucks, they can probably afford to pay for their own latte’!!!! Maybe pay it forward at the local grocery warehouse!!!

If you always give, then thank you, thank you, thank you!!!!!

And if you don’t or haven’t been able before, there are so many needy organizations set up to help the homeless, hungry, unemployed and their animals that you don’t need me to tell you where and to whom to give. You can all look to your own higher power or conscience and decide what to give. Whether it’s one can of beans, one coat to a child, or one toy from Santa. And then feel deep down inside how blessed you are and tell no one. It feels so good and warms your own Grinch heart. God bless us everyone.

Gratitude at Thanksgiving – A Worldwide Blogging Event

“Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn’t learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn’t learn a little, at least we didn’t get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn’t die; so, let us all be thankful.” (Buddha)


Laurie Hawley, life coach, wrote in her Aha Life Design Blog that she is copying another creativity coach’s, Laura Hegfield, Thanksgiving blog idea.
of creating a special Thanksgiving blog consisting of gratitude quotes from different people in her life. She wrote:

“I would like it if all of you special earth angels would write a sentence or two about what you are grateful for in your life…in the moment you receive this message…or the minute you have time to get to it…but be present when you write. Don’t think too much…just close your eyes…breathe into the moment and allow the feeling of gratitude to arise…then write words that flow from your deep well of truth.”

I write a gratitude list daily and recently wrote 100 things I am grateful for and I believe I could easily make it one thousand.

So maybe instead of just a list, I will be a little more thoughtful and meditate a few moments on the gifts in my life for which I feel the most thankful.

First, I am most thankful for God who makes all things possible and without who I would not be here but also would be leading a much less rich and serenity filled life. It would be empty.

My family: my husband who supports me and loves me no matter what.
My four daughters, all of whom have enriched my life in so many different ways. Two sons in law and a stepson, step daughter in law and seven energy/joy filled grandchildren. Five golden retrievers over the years, who all have loved unconditionally and brought so much sweet joy into my life.

When a person reaches a certain age, I think we naturally become grateful for our health. Grateful to be able to move, walk, see, hear and enjoy this wonderful life here on earth, even if that health has become somewhat diminished.

Also I am giving thanks for the many supportive and inspiring friends I have in my life. Many who are new this year!

I have gratitude for the very practical but so necessary gifts in life. A home that is warm, contains a comfortable bed to sleep in, utilities we can afford thanks to my husband’s employment, plenty of food and water, and the clean air and natural beauty of this great state of Nebraska where I am so blessed to live.

Lastly, before I bore everyone who graciously reads my blog, I am thankful for all the small joys in life that make living worth while. These joys are unique to each person. But because I am so lucky as to have all the above blessings, I can enjoy these small joys. Like college football, trips to the Rocky Mountains, movies and books, coffee with friends and writing this blog.

Now if you wish or are able, write your Thanksgiving list below.

Rants/Frustration Rather Than Gratitude

OK, if you want a Gratitude blog like most people are writing this week, go back a couple weeks. I wrote 100 Things I Am Grateful For.

Today I am frustrated. At least in this moment. An hour from now I will be content again (hopefully!) and focused on what I am grateful for. I will be aware of how much I have and that there are people out there who have it SO much worse than me.

But right now, in this moment, I am NOT. I am frustrated that I have gained weight in the last month rather than losing like my husband. Hmmmm. Could be because I get pretty much no exercise. I go through phases of beginning stretching regimens or yoga but then I hit a pain day and there it goes. I am happy I haven’t binged or done any eating on my feelings since I stopped seeing my father a few months ago. But the weight gain really pisses me off.
(I could really get into psycho analyzing myself here since my weight either high or low has always been an issue between my father and myself)

Another weight gain: my dog is fat again!!! I swear he goes up and down like a seesaw. And it’s on me! I feed him, he does not feed himself so it’s all about my concentrated effort or lack there of to get weight off him by feeding him less! He always acts like he is starving! So I feel so bad cutting back his food, giving him less treats or no treats. He always gets a small treat when his brother gets his meds because I give his brother a treat then. His brother does not have a weight issue.

I also am frustrated with why the responsibility for the dog’s meds is totally on me. Well, not so much that but the fact that I am not perfect. I forget, every once in awhile, to give him his nighttime meds. And in the morning when I realize, when I see the pill in the night before’s little compartment, I feel bad, guilty and want to blame someone. I feel less than. A bad dog mother.

It reminds me of when our daughters were young, in school, back in the old days. I worked full time, did the family’s laundry, arranged the meals, made the meals, arranged all the appointments (doctors, dentists, whatever needed done) attended school conferences, school plays, took kids to the doctor, dentist, made sure they got up in the morning, took care of the dog’s meds, got up with sick kids in the night, got up with the seizing dog in the night, felt overwhelmed and not good enough. I wanted a day off from responsibility. Just one day.

Another thing I am somewhat upset about today is that I am going bald. (I am sure my friends/relatives are so tired of hearing about this) I am grieving and I go through phases of feeling so sad and other very short phases of acceptance.
I have to admit: I am vain. At 55 and as overweight as I am, I am vain about my hair. Even people with cancer, grieve losing their hair. A long time ago, I was attractive.
I was young, a normal healthy weight and had long blonde soft silky hair. I could wear eye make up back then. Now with sucky Sjogren’s Syndrome which makes my eyes super dry and irritated, I can no longer comfortably wear mascara, eye shadow or any make up close to my eyes.
I feel like Lauren Bacall’s character in The Mirror Has Two Faces. Grieving the outer me I used to be. And I didn’t appreciate her when she was here. I thought she was too fat.
So not only am I overweight (which I admit I can change) and 55(which I can’t) I am also going bald : ( and have dark circles under my eyes. Bummer.

I notice I seem to be more upset about going bald than the fact I have about twenty chronic illnesses. Well, at least at this moment.

Today I am not working. My kids are grown. The seizing dog has gone on to dog Heaven. I know everyone feels like this sometimes. We all want a day with no responsibility. And no grief issues. No issues period!

Today I am probably as close to no responsibility as I could be in my life. I am only responsible for my dogs and myself. My husband is the one who works and pays the bills. Must be nice huh?

So why can’t I remember the freakin dog’s meds at night every night? Is that too much to ask?
Why can’t I make sure the dogs and myself get some exercise and lose some weight? Why can’t I stop being so vain and let go of my hair and my lack of mascara?
Oh well, guess I am just human. A work in progress. Always.

OK, rant over, got it off my chest. Mini issues. Mini problems. Not global warming. Not war, health care, life and death issues.

Back to Gratitude.
Thank God.


P.S. I already feel better and I also realized that this post may seem somewhat hypocritical after last week's blog post. If it does, I just have to say, I am human and sometimes bitchy and can get into self pity like everyone else. And so it goes.

Life's Twists and Turns

Life’s Twists and Turns

We are a self-absorbed society. I am willing to admit I am part of it and spend a great deal of time, I am sure, being focused on ME. My health issues, my family, even working on improving myself emotionally and spiritually is being self absorbed at some level, even to be a better person.

I try to see things that other people are going through and be aware of their tragedies and pain as well as their triumphs and joy. I know I sometimes fail. We are all human.

An old friend’s daughter (we were best friends in high school and were each other’s maid/matron honor) was married this week with the entire wedding blitz of bachelorette party, rehearsal dinner, and big wedding. We are not close enough anymore for my husband and I to have been invited to the wedding but I am friends with her on Facebook so have read all the pre and now post wedding stories.

The friend stated she is going to be depressed now that the wedding is over and her kids from out of town are heading home.

Her daughter who got married is 25. This friend and I were pregnant at the same time. I had placenta previa, hemorrhaged for twelve weeks (13 blood transfusions) and spent six weeks in the hospital. The rest of the time, I was in a hospital bed in our living room using a bedpan because I could not get out of bed. Our two-year-old was home with me all day alone except for the short time period when a home health nurse came by to check on the baby and me. My husband (who is a saint) left snacks, juice, water, books and diapers on a table next to my bed for the day. Our two-year-old was so great during that time. I hate to think about what would have happened had she gone down the hall, not come back and I would have had to go find her. She was wonderful about staying by me, playing and reading books laying next to me on the bed. We watched a lot of TV and movies!
We also had two older girls ages 8 and 6 that took the bus to school every morning and the bus home. They were both very responsible and helpful during that stressful time in our family.
We made many scary trips to the ER, running red lights all the way across town, I would poke Lindsey in my belly to make sure she was still alive. Every jump or move she made was a miracle to me. When we’d get to the hospital and I’d see her heart blip across the monitor, I felt such gratitude.
At 26 weeks gestation though, I was losing more blood than they could get back into me. So my obstetrician (my friend and I also had the same doctor) had no choice but to perform an emergency casearean. Our daughter Lindsey Kate was born at 5 a.m. on December 6th, our wedding anniversary! She weighed one pound 7 and a half ounces and at first had an APGAR of 9. I was unable to hold her when I came out of general anesthesia due to her very fragile condition. She was so very tiny but so beautiful. She had very fine blonde hair, just like two of her sisters. I then had an allergic reaction to one of the blood transfusions after her birth and was confined to bed. The girls had just had the stomach flu so were unable to go into the NICU to see their baby sister. Her dad was lucky enough to be able to spend time next to her incubator in the NICU.
The third morning after Lindsey was born she began failing. All her organs began shutting down. The neonatologist performed a total blood transfusion trying to give her the best chance but back in 1984, babies born that prematurely rarely were able to survive. Their tiny blood vessels in their brains are so fragile and burst easily at the slightest variation in oxygen level from the ventilator. So at 5 a.m. on Dec. 8th my husband and I were allowed to hold our beautiful daughter for the first and last time as she took her final breaths. Later, I was moved to the end of the hall to a private room and two days later convinced my doctor I needed to heal at home. I could not take another night n the maternity ward, listening to babies cry for their mothers.
Lindsey’ funeral was exactly a week after she as born.

This December 6th, 2009 our Lindsey Kate would be turning twenty-six years old if she had lived. We never got to see her take her first steps, say her first words, enjoy her first day of school, share family holidays and vacations, or watch her graduate from high school or college. My daughter Sam, who was two when Lindsey was born has held a strange position in our family. She is the youngest and the baby of our family but she also is not. She is very intuitive and has a strong sense of this. She thinks of her baby sister often, has Lindsey’s pink lamb that lay beside Lindsey in her incubator on her dresser and wonders what it would have been like to grow up being a big sister.

We will never see Lindsey get married. I wondered as I read my friend’s words on Facebook about her being depressed now that the wedding is over, if she remembers our youngest daughter would be the same age as her youngest daughter.? We lost touch after Lindsey died and have only kept up a somewhat superficial friendship since. I think we are uncomfortable with each other. I would never deny her the joy of her daughter’s life and wonderful wedding. I am happy for her and her family.
But I hope she has some thought/feeling for the baby girl of ours who now resides in Heaven. And maybe will not feel so depressed that the wedding is over.

The UnFather

I am grieving the daddy I never had. The Leave it To Beaver/Father Knows Best daddy. I know these sorts of Dads aren’t “real”. They are TV characters. But I have had friends who have been lucky enough to have had dads like these. When I hear some of my friends talk about their dads with soft voices full of admiration and love, I get nauseous. Dads who tucked them in, took them for ice cream, played games and ball, and attended and participated in their activities such as ballet, piano recitals, school programs and carnivals. My husband is that kind of dad.

As a child, I invented a dad like that. He was imaginary (He was actually my version of The Rifleman, Chuck Conners) and I had many stories about him and my entire imaginary family. These stories helped me get through my day to day life as a child and survive my abusive childhood somewhat sane.

I have often felt guilty for feeling so sad and negatively about my childhood. I never went hungry; always had a bed to sleep in, a house, some of the time I even had my own room. Since getting older and working through many childhood issues, I am able to find some good childhood memories. Few include my family members unfortunately. My best childhood memories were when I was away from my home. Hiking out in the country, walking with a friend or my dog, swimming in a quarry pond we found off the railroad tracks. I have some warm memories as a very young child of my grandma and my uncle (my mother’s family) because I lived with them for almost the entire first five years of my life due to my mother’s illness.

I no longer resent or blame my parents for my childhood. I worked through this in therapy. I accept that they did the best they could, considering my dad was a practicing alcoholic, a narcissist and had a bad childhood himself. My mother was reacting to my father’s alcoholism and adultery and was on the brink of insanity herself. She eventually found help for herself and made amends to us. She went on to be a wonderful Grandma and she and I were close before she died.

Unfortunately, that has not yet happened with my father and probably won’t.
I feel sad for him; he is miserable and blames everyone but himself for his loneliness and unhappiness. I forgive him, bear him only good will and peace but am not willing to sacrifice my own sanity and serenity any longer just for the ability to say I visit him once a week. The hell and verbal abuse he subjected me to while putting in my time is not worth being able to say I still see my ‘dad”.

Apparently in our society it is OK to divorce an abusive spouse but not a relative. Why would anyone expect you to put up with someone, who constantly berates you, belittles you and your children, calls you nasty degrading names and speaks only in negativity and repeatedly makes racist and sexist comments? And also expects your constant attention, devotion and care? Sounds insane doesn’t it? Yet I have come up against a few people who think this way.

Our society also seems to see things in as black and white terms as I did growing up in an alcoholic family. Many think it is impossible to love a person and also let them go in order to save yourself. A friend said to me “maybe someday you will be able to forgive your father.” I have already forgiven him. This is NOT about forgiveness, resentment, getting even or anything negative to be very honest. I tried for fifty-five years to get along with my father. I changed and grew and he didn’t. I found I could no longer continue to be around him and survive. His abuse was not only affecting me emotionally, spiritually, mentally but also physically. The actual physical stress of coping with his negative onslaughts on a regular basis was killing me. If I continued, I have no doubts I may have died before he did.

Luckily, I have developed a wonderful support system of friends who support me and want only what is healthy and empowering in my life.
My husband and my daughters also feel the same way.

I have also experienced the amazing insight to see how much more serenity and happiness I have experienced since discontinuing this insanity. I no longer experience the stomachaches and migraines during the days leading up to my weekly “visit”. My blood pressure has gone down. I feel free, probably for the first time in my entire fifty -five years of life. And I refuse to waste any more time either feeling guilty for apparently not being the daughter my father requires or regretting all the years I wasted trying to gain my father’s approval and love.

My sister said to me ”You will feel guilty when he dies”. Well, I may, and if I do, I will work through it with the help of God, therapy and friends.
But to be honest, I doubt that I will. Because I have learned so much in these fifty-five years and I own all my own “stuff “ and I will allow him to own his. I know deep inside that I tried loved and worked all my life to be a good daughter. In order to gain my dad’s love and approval. And it didn’t work.
I have learned the only person’s approval I need is my own. I know I have a beautiful honest soul and that I am enough just the way I am. And I also know my God loves me and relishes my creativity and wondrous spirit.
For me, that is enough.

Do you feel JOY?

I recently participated in a five-week discussion about becoming authentic, loving ourselves and feeling JOY. It seemed more women were willing to discuss what was wrong with them than speak about joy. Does that mean we don’t allow ourselves to feel joy, we don’t know what it is or we just don’t want to discuss it?

About fifteen years ago when I was in therapy, my therapist asked me when I last felt joy. I think I said “when my daughters were born” That was true enough but actually pretty sad since my daughters were teens by then. Don’t get me wrong. I felt good about a lot of things. But JOY? Did I have joy on too high a pedestal? Like ecstasy or some profound emotion only experienced if you witnessed the face of God?
Since then I have worked on many issues in my life: depression, disability, patience, finding serenity, forgiveness, peace, stillness, loving myself and have finally realized in the last few months, I have been experiencing JOY!

It has come in short small bursts like little bubbles and at times loud explosions similar to fireworks. Both are equally wonderful and fulfilling. Joy has also been experienced along with serenity, contentment, passion, fun and stillness.

I think the difference between now and fifteen years ago is: I am experiencing JOY in my soul rather than my head. I was trying too hard, dissecting it, defining it, wanting to be JOY perfect. Since then and after all the hard work I have done, I am into letting it go (whatever IT is), loving myself and others, forgiving myself and others and just BEING.
Therefore, I have been more open and free to feel JOY.

All kinds of JOY.

Joy in the scent of a cinnamon candle or a Heritage rose blossom.

Joy delighting in the play of my golden retrievers or a hug of support from a dear friend.

Joy in setting my eyes on the majesty of Long’s Peak or my grandson in his Halloween costume.

Joy in a friend’s words of affinity or a poem by Mary Oliver.

I could make a list that went on for pages and pages. Which to me is a miracle!!!

Joy I have found is wherever and whatever we choose to call it.
May you find JOY.