My Biggest Treasure

“When you find a guy who calls you beautiful instead of hot, who calls you back when you hang up on him, who will stand in front of you when other’s cast stones, or will stay awake just to watch you sleep, who wants to show you off to the world when you are in sweats, who will hold your hand when your sick, who thinks your pretty without makeup, the one who turns to his friends and say, ‘that’s her’, the one that would bear your rejection because losing you means losing his will to live, who kisses you when you screw up, watches the stars and names one for you and will hold and rock that baby for hours so you can sleep…..you marry him all over again.” 

Shannon Alder

By far, Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.

Even though the materialism of Christmas sneaks in more each year, for the most part, this holiday remains one of family, simplicity, and gratitude.

As I age I understand what my older relatives warned me about–getting older is not easy. Not only is it difficult, it often catches us off guard by the wicked bit of O’Henry irony sprinkled over it all.

This year, more than ever, I appreciate the people in my life who have always been there for me. I am blessed beyond measure and I am grateful for you all.

One person stands out from the rest.

He is the person who deals with my frustration and anger when illusive words evade me and memories drag up unexpected pain. He quietly steps away, allowing me time to read, write, and research more as I attempt to corner each and every thought while hoping I can find the best words to describe it all. Through this process–one that has gone on for decades–he loves me. Even when my need for space becomes somewhat insane, when I am much less than kind, he encourages me to work on–to learn and to grow.

Thank you, Michael Hibdon, for standing beside me, applauding each and every little success while loving me and giving me a safe place for recovery whenever the results are less than stellar.

You are my hero.

I am…

B…simply being…

~Peace~

A Little Wednesday Wisdom

I shared the attached story the week of Thanksgiving last year. Just like last year, I was at our local grocery store today. Unfortunately, unlike last year, I was not at all entertained.

It began as Michael and I started walked across the parking lot and spotted a new Mercedes parked far out away from the maddening crowds. The car was parked across two parking spaces in a futile attempt to protect it from door chips. Maybe that move made it a target for some angry pre-holiday shopper. The owner was rewarded with a shopping card wedged between the driver’s door and the side mirror. This was an omen for what we’d soon encounter. Once inside, it was obvious there was very little holiday cheer.

Thank heavens I have this to share from last year. Hope you enjoy re-reading it as much as I did.

“Make it a habit to tell people thank you. To express your appreciation, sincerely and without the expectation of anything in return. Truly appreciate those around you, and you’ll soon find many others around you. Truly appreciate life, and you’ll find that you have more of it.” ~ Ralph Marston

It’s already Wednesday, the week of Thanksgiving, 2017.

Because I am an award-winning procrastinator, I’ve been moving faster than usual today. I’ve finally accepted this as the way I operate. Being that charter member, regardless of where I was in the grocery store today, I was rushing, avoiding, or waiting.

It was mostly a waiting game.

I was one of the very few walking up and down the aisles with a smile on my face. The more frowns I met, the more I smiled–and my smile grew wider and wider with each cluster of people I encountered. Granted,  I was probably one of the few there by choice. One of my fellow HEB warriors was a mom of three. She patiently directed her oldest son up and down the different rows as she searched up and down for the things she needed. She excused herself for the pace her little pack held, telling me she was not from here. Again–a huge smile crossed my face because I and every other local person in the store had determined that a long time before she confirmed it.

To me, she was a hero.

I had not one single minute of doubt she’d have been done shopping, checked out, loaded the car, and on the way home if she had not offered it all up by giving the keys to the cart to her son. I’m not sure how often he had been the cart pilot, but there were some close calls as he made his way around stocking cards, past full end caps, skirted other kids, and bypassed the very large representation of this community’s more elderly shoppers. Cheers to you, mom. May God bless you with a full glass of wine with a full bottle standing by when you get home.

My favorite entertainer of the day was the young dad trying to keep up with his daughter as she zigged here and zagged there, always searching for that very elusive place where she could let her wild horses ride. He managed to stay close to her, adjusting his speed and chatter as they both sped on ahead.

I had a majestically joy-filled experience.

All this and the fact that it was Thanksgiving Eve, reminded me of a late day run to the post office made shortly after I’d moved to the Denver area. It was the beginning of my first holiday season away from home. I’d had a hard week, I was on call, I was already tired, I was lonely, and I was angry. A subscription I’d canceled had sent the product anyway. That meant, I now had to return it.

All these negatives played over and over in my head as I walked to the post office. A young man and his dad were coming out of the building, the boy stopped to hold the door for me. In my pre-occupied state, I brushed quickly by them, making my way inside.

A rather firm voice broke my litany of poor me, poor pitiful me self-statements. I heard the boy say, “You’re welcome.” His dad was quick to hush; the young man, making his point very adamantly, “She could at least say thank you, dad!”

Wow. For a second, his comment made me angry. Then…I realized how rude I’d been.

The kid was absolutely right.

As I turned to acknowledge, they were gone. The dad had whisked him out to the car.

What a huge lesson I learned that evening from this young man. You never know when or who your teachers will show up or who they will be–he was the first person to help me on my path to being more aware. Since that night, I see how many others neglect expressing appreciation for simple acts of respect and kindness.

This memory was sparked by finding the quote I’ve attached to today’s story by Ralph Marston. Saying thank you takes seconds and costs nothing. Stay aware of all the kindness and care to come your way–be grateful.

For years, Michael and I subscribed to Mr. Marston’s, The Daily Motivator. If you’ve never seen these daily messages, take a minute to check it out. It will give you one other thing to be grateful for and open another gift opportunity for you.

I am…

B…simply being…

My love sent your way.

God bless.

Peace

 

 

 

 

Last Time For Everything

Using a fake ID at a college bar

Getting caught with a girl in the backseat of a car

Running out on the field for the senior game wearing number 17

There’s a last time for everything

Like a George Strait cassette in a Pontiac

I tell ’em Super Cuts, let’s leave it long in the back

Wearing the tux at a high school gym

And she’s wearing your class ring

There’s a last time for everything

Last call, last chance

Last song, last dance

Sometimes you just don’t know when that’s gonna be

Hold me baby, give me a kiss

Like tonight is all there is

Cause there’s a last time for everything

Throwing the ball with the first dog you ever had

Spending all day on the lake with your grandad

Watching Glenn Frey sing “Already Gone” at the Forum in LA

There’s a last time for everything

Last call, last chance

Last song, last dance

Sometimes you just don’t know when that’s gonna be

Hold me baby, give me a kiss

Like tonight is all there is

Cause there’s a last time for everything

Kissing goodbye on her porch and driving away

Introducing her as your fiancee

Getting woke up at 5 am to see if Santa came

There’s a last time for everything

Biscuits and gravy at momma’s house

(Last time for everything)

Spring break on a fold out couch

(Last time for everything)

Little Jimmy on the Opry stage

(Last time for everything)

Hearing Prince sing “Purple Rain”

(Last time for everything)

(Last time for everything)

I’d heard this Brad Paisley song many times before I really listened to the words.

I don’t think anyone would debate the fact music has this insanely sneaky ability to side step any and all self-protective barriers we’ve constructed over the years while erasing any concepts of time. Usually this happens when I hear an old song–one that was popular during a certain time in my past. This song took its time with me–waiting until I was comfortable with the melody–then certain phrases began to catch my attention.

I was not ready for the barrage of memories the lyrics pulled out of my unsuspecting mind. Each time I hear it, the words bring into sharp focus another new old memory.

Pretty powerful stuff.

What’s my latest trigger? “Biscuits and gravy and Mama’s house.”

It made me think of the last time my sisters and I planned on going to Omaha to my aunt’s house for Thanksgiving. We were all so ready to go see everyone. The Tuesday before the holiday an early snowstorm moved in and made travel unsafe–at least I thought it’d be unsafe. Had I known it’d be the last time we’d all be together for Thanksgiving, I would have taken any risk to be there.

As we prepare for this Thanksgiving, take a moment to look around, treasuring those seated at your table. Our world seems to be spinning faster and faster. In a blink of an eye, things change. This really could be the last time for many things.

I am…

B…simply being…

~Peace~  

 

Yesterdays

“My yesterdays walk with me. They keep step, they are gray faces that peer over my shoulder.” 

William Golding

The thoughts that came into my head this past week surprised me.

Most of them spurred on by a collection of odd dreams that weaved in and out of my rather drugged state. Others came all by themselves, unbidden, following the breadcrumbs left by their predecessors.

Most of the faces I saw were from my very early career in radiology and their visits left me feeling all kinds of emotions.

I couldn’t help wondering what it’d be like if we could all work together again as the more adult, more mature versions of our younger selves? It makes me shake my head and slowly smile.

We were such an interesting collection of people–some very young, eyes wide open as they saw the unexpected and learned, others a little older, pushing to establish themselves in a small but demanding department, and the older, established few who saw the world of medicine changing all around them, unsure where they would fit in.

I was one fighting for my spot. As I bounced around in my search for new territory, I was not always very kind nor was I anywhere near as smart as I thought I was. I know–all surprising, right?

Many of the old familiar faces visited me this week–thank you. It was haunting and blearily lovely.

 “When we are tired, we are attacked by ideas we conquered long ago.” 

Friedrich Nietzsche

I am…

B…simply being…

~Peace~

My Caregivers

The very best thing about dogs is how they just know when you need them most, and they’ll drop everything that they’re doing to sit with you awhile.” 

Steven Rowley

I’ve had a week of recovery surrounded by the most wonderful caregivers.

Love came in all kinds of shapes and sizes.

From healing massages and dashes to the store to appease whatever whim came to my mind to homemade chicken noodle soup to beautiful plants, brilliant flowers, colored pencils with an amazing picture book to the many gentle words sent via calls and texts. I was spoiled beyond measure.

This morning, Bud came to be beside me as I gathered things together in order to begin writing again.

I am grateful and I am ready.

Thank You, God, for the body You have given me. Most of the time I take my health for granted. I forget how fortunate I am to live without pain or disability, how blessed I am to be able to see and hear and walk and eat. I forget that this body of mine, with all its imperfections, is a gift from You. When I am critical of my appearance, remind me, God, that I am created in Your holy image. If I become jealous of someone else’s appearance, teach me to treasure my unique form. Help me, God, to care for my body. Teach me to refrain from any action that will bring harm to me. If I fall prey to a self-destructive habit, fill me with the strength to conquer my cravings. Lead me to use my body wisely, God. Guide my every limb, God, to perform acts of compassion and kindness. I thank You, God, for creating me as I am. Amen.

Levy, Naomi. Talking to God: Personal Prayers for Times of Joy, Sadness, Struggle, and Celebration (p. 24). Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

I am…

B…simply being…

~Peace~

 

 

Healing Prayers

“The common man prays, ‘I want a cookie right now!’ And God responds, ‘If you’d listen to what I say, tomorrow it will bring you 100 cookies.” 

Criss Jami, Killosophy

Waiting.

It is not easy and I am not especially good at it.

I’ve been waiting to hear from a surgeon about scheduling a procedure I need to have done.

I have been waiting for several days.

Yesterday, I reached my limit and spoke up. I am learning in today’s health care environment, you HAVE to speak up.

The end result, thanks to my physician listening to me and taking action, I saw a surgeon this morning. My procedure will be Monday.

But–there’s more to the story.

As I drove to my appointment, I prayed I’d get on the schedule quickly.

After my consultation, I was told there is a spot open for Monday.  Thank you, God. An added plus, I’d just had my annual physical so I had all the pre-op studies done–yay, me.

Driving home, I remembered there was an estate sale I wanted to check out. What a grand diversion–at the next stop I put the address into my phone and made my way to the sale.

There was a little bit of everything at this sale. I wandered around until I came to a room filled with books. I knew I’d found my spot. Nothing caught my eye until I saw this little black prayer book–so appropriately titled, Healing Prayers.

The best example of a God wink I’ve seen in a long time.

I am…

B…simply being…

God bless.

~Peace~