Aging IS More Than Just Numbers

Forget the Oh Charley perfume of days gone by, the Heavenly Scent and Baby Powder Cologne I asked for.   I don’t need a gift card to upload more iTunes to my iPod nor a day at the spa unless it includes a wrap to remove the wrinkle that is situated from my bosom to my upper thigh.   I need a mirror that makes me look beautiful, a cream that does the impossible and a body that makes me move free of squeaks and creaks. Oh yeah, one where the next morning is not met with, why did I overdo it by getting out of bed and physically exerting energy yesterday?

Did my mother tell me this years ago and or did I conveniently forget it or maybe it was selective memory loss.  Why is aging more than just a numbers game?   Thank God I didn't know much about what I would lose or I would have probably set about breaking every bone in my body by trying to get all the adventurous activities done early.  Yeah, I would have   gone way overboard if I had known what was ahead and how soon it would come crashing to an end.  I thought this stuff only occurred to that lady in Driving Miss Daisy.  Heck I am not her! 

Let’s see, I would have done some of those things Tim McGraw sings about in his song, Live Like I am Dying.  I would have jumped out of airplane (regardless of my fear of heights and  flying), I might have learned to fence (even though knives in the kitchen are cause for a phone with a preset to 911)  and I would have played tennis more years and more rigorously instead of insisting my team mates, many times my spouse, hit the ball directly to me, thinking that it was a good idea to save my ankles for future sports I would play.   Plus, I thought I would be picking it back up later, when I had more time.   I have the time now but not the joint strength! One good strong cut on the court, I would be more likely to catch the ball on my mouth than with the racket. But I must say, I do like the tennis outfits a whole lot better now than years gone by. So maybe I could just buy the outfits and look like a professional player much like I do when I wear my ski gear.  

Speaking of skiing, our last ski trip was to Colorado.  I found the jolting of the skis as they cut across the terrain in Colorado run up through my legs straight to my wobbly knees. That is, until I landed on my rear.  This was followed, unfortunately, by an ungraceful fall to the ground, with my head slammed to the ground going approximately 30 mph which felt like 90 mph.  It literally whip lashed back and then bounced a few times.  I had no idea my head was that bounce-able.   Maybe I do have a hard head after-all?   With my head spinning, staring up at my husband’s face, I decided my skiing days were over.   Yes, the lodge down below with an outside deck with folks just gazing upwards at us fools on the slope, they with beer and hot chocolate mugs watching the mountain were more to my taste. I suppose they had a good laugh as I looked like a cut from the beginning of the Wide World of Sports where the great skier crashed into the giant slalom gates.  

Oh, who am I kidding? I was on the beginner slopes and had just crossed for all of 20 feet tops the medium difficulty slope only to get back over to the beginner slope.  My intended quick run was way too fast a speed since I did not make that stupid V with my skis correctly my husband was frantically yelling at me to make. Hence, next thing I know I was  about to wrap my arms around a tree line on the edge of the big mountain we were on.  As my husband repeated screamed “Stop”, or so he said, my brain froze.  Backing up a second, who can hear anything when you are flying in the opposite direction on a sky slope, in fright and the wind is whistling loudly over your ears.   He has the audacity to ask me later, “Did you not hear me yell?”  How the heck could I have heard that and think about it for a split second, if I knew how to stop, why would I have been making a beeline for the trees in the first place? 

I was unceremoniously promoted, or retired, to the senior group.    I was a damper on the ski party crowd,  even with ski lessons.  Gee, I thought I did good in those classes but maybe my husband  was right, they just gave up with trying to help me so passed me to get rid of me.  After my last run down the slopes, or rather crash landing,  I was beyond hope and a hazard for those that knew what they were doing on the ski slopes.  This included those obnoxious little children streaming and screaming past me with glee, with their cute little smiles cutting their skis here and there, showing off,  stopping on a dime with no look of fear on their bright little self satisfied  faces. I bid them good riddance and heading to my buddies on the deck with their mugs to watch others crash land on the slopes as I had.

It isn’t physically just our bodies that age but our looks too.  I always wondered if I would age gracefully. I am not sure, to this day, if I am or not.  Why can’t I be like Cher or Madonna or some of those other super stars that look like they just walked out of their 40’s when they are 60?  Could it be because they have a plastic surgeon as a best friend?  Why aren't any of my friends doing something like that?  My son can fix teeth (Dental)  and my daughter can fix internal body issues (medical) but let's face it, as we age we want someone who can fix BBB (Breast/Belly/Bottoms) or someone who loves Liposuction if not a full blown Plastic Surgeon specializing in making us look beautiful. Oprey says life begins at 50  so let's live it up! Hey, we can do it better with a brand new fixer up look!   

Can you visit a place like eHarmony and place ads for BFF’s instead of relationship mates?  You know friendships without benefits. Actually the kind of benefits I would like is plastic surgery benefits, and in return I will be your lifelong friend. I could write up something like this:

Looking for a wonderfully rewarding friendship with a competent plastic surgeon that specializes in undoing the facial and body aging process. In return, for complimentary initial complete work up (beauty body make over) and maintenance upkeep, I will be fully committed "till death do us part" to being a BFF. This includes shopping excursions, coffee dates, and meeting for dinners, phone chats, and even ladies night outs.   You will find me funny, engaging and a great listener.   Prefer someone with 15+ years of experience in the field, married and with references.  Can negotiate other terms as needed, you will find me very reasonable and a good patient, trust me. I am honest, all my friends tell me that!  

As a child, my grandparents Herrman as we called them had always asked, every birthday, if we had our wrinkle cream.   In those days, it never made much sense to me. Who would need something like wrinkle cream.  Why would someone want such a thing?  How important was it to remove wrinkles. Isn’t that vain,  do wrinkles really make someone’s face look that much different?  

Recently my close friend and neighbor Eileen had very intricate eye surgery.  As part of her recovery,  she was not allowed to hold her head up vertically for ten days. Can you imagine spending ten days walking around looking down at the ground the entire time?  Not only was her neck sore but she looked funny. At least, during this time she could wear no make up, no one knew because no one could see her face; eye contact was impossible unless you were a midget. She really did have to say "Who is it"  when you came knocking at her front door,  inspite of the glass on either side, because she couldn't look up to see.   

Eileen, one day,  took a mirror to check how her eye looked; she put it infront of her face with her head still  looking down at the ground.   OMG, she said to herself.  Was this a cruel joke; who was that woman staring back at her?  Apparently, it was some old broad with tons of loose skin and wrinkles. It could not possibly be her.

As she peered abit closer, she knew it of course was her. She was seeing herself in a new light, with new eyes that did not show herself very flattering. For someone who prided herself as the Belle of the Ball all her life, this was hard to take.  She had to look away and gain courage to look back in the mirror.  Glancing back she thought, I look a fright.  She realized that when you hang your face down in that position, gravity works to your is advantage and pulls all your excess skin without the nice elasticity of your youth to the forefront, that and the dreaded wrinkles.    On top of that, she was not allowed to wear make-up yet due to her surgery.  Amazing, she said, that when she is make-up less and looking at her face with all the signs clearly showing of aging, children don’t scream in fright at the site of her. She wanted to scream at the site of her! 

Personal Challenge:  Take a mirror, drop your head down looking at the ground, without make up on and place a mirror under your face.   You will see the image, as you age, that shows your face ain’t what it use to be.

Where the heck is that wrinkle cream?

You Have a Friend

 Friends come in all shapes and sizes. They come at you during all phases of your life.  There are those that your parents throw you together with when you are barely able to

walk, as toddlers and just speaking gibberish.  Oh, those are the days when you are suppose to share.  At a time when most things go directly into your mouth and you have never heard of germ phobia and your parents are then forcing you to let all the other kids have their turn of putting their nasty germs on your toys.  Oh great, then you have to remember not to put them in your mouth. No wonder, years later, these friends fall by the wayside.

The  friends you make it grade school really the first that group of friends that are formed by choice as individuals based on a commonality of circumstances and being able to relate. One being you are in class together, perhaps seated close by each other, or on a sports team together or worse, both picked on.  This formulates what true friendships are all about, a common bond, sharing experiences. Being in a classroom for 6 ½ hours a day with a teacher who constantly says the same thing over and over again, “Sit in your seat, work to your potential and no cheating” will definitely make kids want to “reach out and touch somebody’s hand.” Unfortunately, at the wrong time, this makes for light conversation, when something boring is going on like a monologue by a teacher, much like Charlie Brown’s teacher or the blackboard repetitive exercises of 2 +2 = 4 that the teacher feels is imperative to sit quietly as a mouse and listen.   Thus, a child gets in trouble for talking but then after a second one does, another bond is created between the two. Michelle Bell and I were bonded for life for our ability to always get caught talking but we felt we were talking extremely low, apparently not so!  We had a common bond, for sure.   Many others did as well, feeling that school can be boring!

The neighborhood provides a cast of characters for a pool of potential friends, and enemies, depending on your luck of the draw.   In my day, it was repeated games of outdoor play, from kick the can, to jump rope, to flag football even played coed.  I remember a neighbor and I played quite a bit as kids but later, as teens we weren’t close as all. Times change but those early years were dear. We use to jump rope for hours with the other girls in the neighborhood.  All the other girls were older than us, mostly my older sister and her friends.  At times, the older girls were mean to us.   We sort of took turns getting our feelings hurt by their picking on us.   Sharon Lewis and I forged a close friendship in those days not only built on the time jumping rope and playing but on the fact that the older girls were not always so nice to us.   We learned together to stand up to them.  She went on to be a strong individual. Eventually she was actually the Captain of a highly competitive High School Drill team at our local high school that won many competitions.  Funny how events shape people. We use to cry over the jump rope thing, being bullied. Years later, she was proud, strong and I was silent but proud of her.

I wonder today, with the onset of so many video games, do kids get outside and play like that anymore? Is there the opportunity to do so realistically with so many homes needing to have both parents working and single parent homes?   Parents are bombarded these days from child experts with a bad rap. “Effective parenting requires that parents restrict the time children spend in front of the television and the computer screen and spend more time outdoors. Also, that would allow more time for healthy friendships to develop. “I assume this means friendship void of the kind developed off the internet.  Great idea, but if both parents and the single parent are working, who is going, who is going to supervise the child coming and going from the residence?  Often times, employers will not permit employees to take calls or their parents are not free to take the calls. It is irresponsible parenting to have children living at home and not know where your child is at all times.  How safe is it for a child at any age to go outdoors unsupervised by an adult these days?

When I was a single mother, it was next to impossible to find anyone to even watch my children when I was working and attending school, when they got to a certain age. One time, when I had someone I thought was responsible at home, my young daughter was riding her bike up the street from our home. I would never let someone that little out of my sight and she would never ride a bike at that age without me being outdoors watching her. She was only 5 or 6.  The person watching her was not outside.  Some strange man in a car got out of the car and tried to snatch her and she got away by running to a complete strangers house and running into the front door and locking it behind her.   We spent an entire year, per the police’s instructions, having to forbid her from being in the front yard as the culprit was not caught.  I never ever again let either of my children go outside again when I was not home unless they were going to school functions and driving there.   Safety is more important that children being outside and making friends in the neighborhood thus these days, many kids can live in a neighborhood and not have friends there. 

Pre-high years friends are difficult to keep. Popularity in school is dictated by details that children cannot control.  Kids get isolated and begin to feel the harshness of getting left out by their peers.  Friendships break up similarly to male-female relationships.  It is as if the kids are going steady with their friends and this is the precursor for dating and romance.  They break-up and make-up with their friends like days of the week, it is that common place and that frequent.   Often times in the same day.   Along with this comes all the drama that is attached with the first kiss, puppy love, etc because being accepted and liked is so important at this tender age.  This is especially true of girls.

Girls love to talk about each other. When one girl is upset about another girl, they talk about each other. So the pain can get intense. But it passes as soon as they make up.   (What a shame disputes in Congress aren’t settled as quickly!)  Children do not know how to handle this rejection as it is a new experience in a new setting when they are more aware of boys and feel so isolated by their peers.  They are afraid everyone is talking about them and will be left out of the in crowd permanently.   Friendships matter to children, to us all. It is a self affirmation outside the home, outside our comfort zone.   As a parent, it is hard to watch.  Band aids for wounds are no longer doable for hurts. Unfortunately, nobody wins the popularity award in life so it is a tough lesson to help kids work through.

In high school, the friendships are just as vital to self esteem, if not more so. Without them, the news easily points out potential consequences.  Kids that feel out of controlled, like victims feel they need to become empowered, like a video game or super hero or Greek tragedy.   Depression, suicide, hostility turned outward, vandalism, and violence towards others can follow.  Isolation is hard to process as something positive.

A pecking order gets established in high school that is pretty much set in stone.  Again, the teen ager has very little control over it. It is reminiscent of a caste system if you are on the bottom rung.  The teenager that comes from a poor family, have special needs,  are less personality, possess less athletic abilities, more withdrawn,  these young adults are much more likely to get left out or picked on.    The teenagers are not part of the “In Crowd and may spend a good deal of their early twenties wondering why.   High school years are not so wonderful for these kids.  The teen agers that are so nice and well liked and popular may not stick their neck out to help those that are not. Infact, they may stick idly by where one less fortunate are bullied by someone mean not willing to take the chance they, in turn, may draw some negative repercussions. 

I recall when I was in high school a girl that was unmerciful towards me. Many of my friends knew this girl, for no reason whatsoever had it had for me.  She would want to pick fights with me, keep my picture out of yearbooks, and instigate rumors. Consequently, at my friends’ urgings, at times, I missed parties that she was going to be in attendance just to avoid the confrontations.   Not once did a friend or an upperclassman that knew me and liked me stand up to her on behalf.  Maybe it happened without my knowledge but never in my presence. 

Years later, I saw my daughter go through the same ordeal with a girl at her private high school. At my daughter’s school, she was quite popular, more so than I was in high school. Christina was extremely well known and liked. But the girl was mean, antagonistic and very confrontational.   No one wanted to get stuck in the middle.  Again, no one intervened, not even a teacher. She was left to her own defenses with this bully constantly after her to meet after school so she could be beat up knowing my daughter was a starter on the varsity soccer team which was a top contender in the state.   This girl did not care, much as the girl I went to high school felt about me.   Girls can be mean for no reason what so ever. And friends in high school can be fickle in supporting their friends. 

  

Adult friendships seem to be the most complex. With a family, work, and all the obligations that go along with both, finding time to commit to friendships is much like trying to balance three babies on two hips, difficult at best.  It takes some practice and expertise to be good at all three. I also find it takes discipline.  But it can be done.

They are different too than the relationships you develop as a child growing up and as a teenager trying to fit in. And as college roomies, which as built on parties, and deciding what you want to do when you grow up and get out of school. 

No matter what age we are, there is always that desire to be accepted but the drive, the need is never as overpowering, usually, as it is in the younger formidable years.  AS an adult, you still need friends and desire them but the drive is not nearly as dominant in your life.  As my girlfriends say, quality is more important the older we get verses quantity.   Friendships in adult years are based more on logistics; where we are at in life and value systems, the things in life that truly matter.    Most adults prefer relationships with deeper meanings and more maturity based relationships. Having said that, there are exceptions to the rules. We also need friends that understand in our lives we need friends that understand the adult need to distress, to put things in perspective and the need to talk about the weather sometime and not politics and religion!

Years go by, too quickly actually, and some of those early friendships last.  Sad to say that

some of those ‘wonderful friendships from high school and youthful days’ do not.  They can turn out to be one sided where they mean to one person than to other or the contact just is lost.  Facebook has made is so much easier to reconnect with others though.   It links people from all over; however, it does just that, links you from one party to another.  You can quickly get updated with the who, where they live and what they are doing.  But all the whys and how they got there over the years, well that is not a quick email. That is not a quick string of messages.   That cannot be captured by looking at someone’s photo album either. That takes time to develop. If there wasn’t a strong connection before, it is hard to really develop it now after the fact, all these years later. Not impossible, but hard.   

Even when there was a strong bond before, let’s face it, life experiences changes us all.   Some of the folks that were the nicest may now be the most arrogant, and the opposite may be true.  Money and success can change people easily into thinking they are now better than everyone else and not worthy of others time and attention.  Some of the folks I felt seemed abit high on themselves, I have noticed on Facebook appear to be very humble, kind and gentle hearted now.  Thus, to me, even more beautiful than before!   Life has made them even more special.   People move on.  Friendships over the years may not matter but their existence from the past is good to acknowledge and reflect on.  Facebook allows the opportunity to do that, and make that quick emotional connection.  For those of us that have lost a friend or two, we wish we had that chance before they entered heaven to say “Hello, you finally got a Facebook account!!!”    

Friends definitely shape us.   The experiences of our friendships held mold us into who we are today.  Some in a good way, some affect us in a very small way, even if the friendship turned sour.  There is so much to be learned from mistakes we make in our judgments’ of others and incorrect conflict resolution with our friendships.    Most friends touch our lives in unique ways if we take the time to reflect.    

I hope the friends that I have made, when they look back, recognize and find I touched their lives and helped mold them in a positive way.   When I had cancer, I use to keep a basket that held all the cards I got while I was in treatment. I started with a small basket.  Two times I had to increase the size of the basket.  I was in treatment for 18 months so there was plenty of time for friends and relatives to send me cards.    I felt sorta isolated at times over the treatment since it seemed to go on forever.  Those cards, each one, were a blessing. I even got some from total strangers. Somehow they heard my story, from someone, somewhere, and they would sign it, Your Friend and some name from some town somewhere in the U.S.  It was nice to know I had some friend I didn’t know somewhere. Friendships are about touching lives mutually. See, it was a friendship because I touched their live and they, in turn touched mine. Those cards were my lifeline. 

At the end of the day, God intends us all to be friends with one another. Try to overlook the faults in each other in your friends and join hands.  It is really not our place to judge or be judged. Do this in remembrance of friendships past, or those now in the present and for those to develop in the future. 

 In tribute, here’s my video with just a few of them.   Enjoy. 

Ty Three Ribbons

Another year has gone by ,

time to write about Ty Ry.

His birthday is approaching soon,

the living room will be filled with balloons.

This year he may be in the room,

or he may opt to be a little cocoon.

It is not that he is rude,

it just depends on his mood.

Sometimes he hates all the noise,

Unlike so many other boys.

Ty finds joy in simple things,

Like listening to other people sing,

Things that give him joy,

Are not wrapped up like toys.

They are gifts from the heart,

This sets him apart.

His needs are many,

His wants are few.

When he tries to lead you by the hand,

Don’t ignore his lead,

His hand is his way to plead,
"Walk with me, help me grow, 
       I have seeds to sow.
           You may find that  I am a key
                 In another way God wants you to see
                         What a wonderful world this can be!"

Another year has gone by and my grandson’s birthday is approaching. It seems only fitting that I would write, once more, about our special Ty Ryan Glasmeier.  This is not simply about an adorable little boy with autism.  It is about a million of children he represents with the same diagnosis. His story is probably not that much different. But yet, since it is my grandson, it feels much more personal and unique to me, he seems more special.  What grandmother doesn’t have a bias towards her grandchildren?   

Often times, as I watch Ty play or run to me with his smile on his face this year, I can’t believe that a grandma can love a little boy as intensely inside as I love him sometimes.  That is something new this year, a greeting with a smile.  For a long time, smiles did not grace his face.  He now kisses often those he is near when asked to do so.  It is a wonderful big step in our lives, and his. He has become so affectionate, thanks to his parents working diligently with him on accepting touching.

 Funny how your heart can love a child  and yet hurt at the same exact time.  I watch him and want so much for him and yet, my mind tells me  grandmothers that have autistic children feel the exact same way about their special grandchildren as I do. They know, with increased funding, research and therapy for these children, the sky is the limit.  They pray, as I do, for advancement and miracles. They want others to understand and to care also.  Autism is a hard thing to understand when you have no direct exposure to a child with it or an adult, especially when many can’t  speak or express what they feel or go through day in and day out.  Those of us that have an inkling, as none of us truly know, must try to make a voice, and put a face to autism. Ty has a face, he is the face of autism.

Last night, a new American Idol was crowned.  I read his life was forever changed. Our lives were forever changed with Ty’s birth and subsequent diagnosis.  The young man who won the coveted award, Philip Phillips, for American Idol gets a tremendous amount of money and a recording contract. Meanwhile, my son and daughter-in-law  get  to take their son to therapy sessions.  The joy they experience is much different than sitting at a recording studio. Phillip hears great playbacks but my kids greatest joy is when the therapist comes running out and tells them of a great stride Ty made in therapy in any given day! Then a phone call comes later in the day to tell Grandma the latest new step in his development so we can all celebrate another victory.   

The money frivolously given on reality television shows  gets spent  on promoting themselves.  My children’s goal is to come up with over $15,000 one day to buy Ty a service dog.  Right now, some of the best coveted therapies are not covered by insurance policies.  This limits the doors open Ty, the days he can spend in a special type of therapy that benefits him the most. But we treasure the  windows of opportunities that are presented to him just the same. Ty has taught us all more about life than anyone we have ever known; small steps matter,  joining hands for a common good is Christianity at its best.

For many years, I detested celebrities that took on social and political issues. I must say, with the influx of bullying going on, my attitude has forever changed. This issue has become epidemic and too many children are dying and suffering daily. My daughter in law forwarded to me that horrendous story making the news this year of the child bullied for being autistic. Our hearts were heavy with the mere thought of someone so vulnerable being made fun of by someone trusted and respected.  We all thought of not only Ty in the future but every one of the million autistic child and adults in our society.  Vulnerable people are already at a disadvantage.   Society tolerating this type of behavior is unfathomable, for anyone. Whether you are a Lady Gaga fan or not, how can you not respect a celebrity who puts all of her efforts behind promoting and embracing this issue.  She is driven towards making a difference and denouncing bullying and admitting she too was bullied throughout her life.  Our differences are blessings not curses. This is true of autism also.  We can learn from those that are different, that is why we are different.

While the whole world listened to news of Whitney Houston’s death, it was in close proximity to my daughter in law having a tear filled moment of her own. After a exceptional productive therapy session Ty had with his therapist , my daughter-in-law was told her Ty had uttered five words out of the blue. This is the same little boy who was never supposed to speak.   He may never say them again but for that day, he had, out of the blue, spoken.    Her heart sang.  As she drove home, cars around were riveted to news about Houston dying.  I imagine some drivers were teary eyed like her.  But her silent tears flowing from her face were from gazing at her darling little boy in the car seat from the back view mirror as she beamed with pride at the joy of learning he was uttering audible words.  Her Ty Ry continues to surprise her.  His love has no boundaries of his mommy as he stares back at her, oblivious of why she is crying  but he senses she loves him intently.   Ah, what a wonderful world we live in!

Political debates are continually being played on television. Healthcare issues are always front and center.  My son works in the healthcare field as a independent family dentist.   The debates are  heated on these healthcare issues, and affect small business owners such as my son.   My son could be paying more attention to this on a Saturday. But here he is,  out in a soccer field with his son Ty at an Easter egg hunt. Ty is unnerved by crowds so to help him stay calm but still participate and not miss the moment, his dad is with him.   Dad and son walk, hand in hand.  He lets his young son walk him, where ever and whichever direction Ty would like to go. Not a care in the world, this proud father lets his small but determined two year old son lead him at will.  Very few eggs or candy get picked up and that seems to matter little to the father, only that his son is smiling and they are together.   

See, autistic children don’t always like to be led and if forced to be led, at times, they can throw a fit.  The debaters on TV could learn from my son,  something about compromise.  Sometimes it is not about who is right but about learning that sometimes it is better to follow and get something done than being the leader and spending all your time fighting.   Pick your battles wisely.  Then you can focus on getting things done.  And thus, make the world more harmonious. 

The news focuses daily on gossip, scandal and celebrities.    We have our business news, our sports heroes and our updates on stock trades.   Our family has our news too, of Ty regularly. It consists of the good therapy days, mastery of a new skill set that has been worked on for quite some time, a new program Ty is eligible for, an additional sign language symbol he is using, and behavioral changes.   And we too have our hero, it is that same small fellow, a little boy who is never far from our thoughts and prayers.  He is representative of so many others in society. 

 Our hero  doesn’t really change from day to day. It remains the same little person. He just gets a little bit bigger, a little brighter over time and continues to amaze us, teach us about life and  about ourselves. He is oblivious to the effect he has on us .  Ty Ry doesn’t even ask for any recognition. Ty Ry doesn’t want to be the center of attention, he will avoid it.   I understand, by nature, autistic children and adults don’t want to be.  We all need to respect that BUT they need support. Their families and their therapists need our support.   Not enough is being done in this area.  Take note, please.  The numbers are staggering.  Ty is only one of many.   I pray Ty is a vessel for that to happen, a catalyst for change.

Happy Birthday Ty;  you make the world more beautiful!

To Dream Like a Child Again

Funny how when you are a kid you can lay on your back and almost feel as if, if you stretch up just as hard as you possibly can with your arms towards the sky you can touch the clouds rolling by.   And on those summer nights, when you are camping outside with friends, and the night sky is filled with stars, you do the same exercise with those beautiful blinking lights.  In your child’s mind, you are not entirely convinced, it can’t be done so you reach out and attempt each time you think of it, just one more try. 

And remember those first few concerts you went to when you were a young teenager? There was that hot young star singing on the stage that you finally got to see live in person that was plastered all over the posters in your room.  Even from the back seat of a stadium, you have yourself convinced he looks the same. And then, there was that moment in the concert, when he looked your way, and locked eyes with you during that one slow love song. Wow, what are the odds of that happening? How did he pick you out of that crowd of female gawkers, you are amazed and yet touched. Maybe it was just pure destiny.  

Why is it that the one boy so many of us have that huge crush on is the one that doesn’t know we exist, much less care?  You know the one, the high school football or basketball star. The guy that is a cutie, popular with all the girls, all except for you.  Yet, you continually fantasize that one day he will wake up and see that he belongs with you.   You are worthy.   And so, you hang in there with your undying devotion, each time getting hurt over and over again with each break up he has as he just picks up another new girlfriend overlooking you.

Sometimes, as an adult, I miss the childhood innocence of wishing for the impossible.  Logic, as a child, is not nearly as apparent as it is when you are an adult. Thus, the land of make believe seems like a real possibility.  It allows for more hope, more chances of change and more wishing. You believe, as a child, wishes can and will come true, if you wish hard enough.  

I think we all need to work at getting that wishing ability back. The ability to dream the impossible dream is a gift, part of living life to the fullest. It does not mean we have to believe the impossible but what is the harm in trying to catch a butterfly with our bare hands as we did as children, or lie on our backs and assess what the shape of a cloud looks like if it were an object.  Why not wish upon a star? What do we have to lose?    

The innocence somehow gets replaced with a cynicism of life.   With the rejection and the maturing comes responsibility and this overriding sense of anything remotely childlike is irresponsible and immature.  I beg to differ.   Giving in occasionally to the child within is freeing. It is an important part of who you are.   Allowing it to come out is allowing you to be free of some of the constraints, within reason of course.  We are allowed, even as adults, to swing, to go down slides, to blow bubbles, or do other activities that use to fill our summer vacation days; passing time aimlessly laughing without a care in the world. 

Those days go by so quickly and yet are a small portion of our life span.   Life is way too serious sometimes, most of the time.  We need breathers, emotional breaks.   We need to be children sometimes and just chill and dream.   Besides, why should kids have all the fun anyways? To Dream .......

You Can Do It!

When my kids were little, I used to tell them , they could be whatever they wanted to be. My son’s first dream was to be a garbage man. Bright and early, once a week, at the crack of dawn, he would be up and waiting at the window for the  garbage truck to come down the street. When they did, out the door he would run, screaming with glee.  He would wait anxiously at the curb for them to arrive.  They would greet him with a smile, knowing he would be there, week to week.    These were the days when strange men smiling at your kids did not send parents in to panic!  

He would watch them take our trash and be so excited to see them compress it. I think they did it, whether it needed it or not just to see his little face light up. He would follow along as they did several neighbor’s houses too, walking along side of the truck as the men talked to him along the way.   When they got past the block, he would trot along back home. They the real work began for him. 

In our house, he would begin pulling garage out of our trash cans and tearing it into small pieces and creating piles in our house.   He would spread these piles about the house. Then he would get his caravan of toy garbage trucks and begin his process of picking up all the trash.   As he diligently pushed them around the floors  and pick up each stack of trash, one by one,   I held back my annoyance with these piles because it was so cute to see his passion at work. Luckily too, he settled for making piles out of paper scraps!

My son went from this dream to wanting to be a pilot by middle school. When that phase hit full force, I researched on the internet to find the best schools to attend. I found one in Florida and requested materials about how to get admitted. My son and I both got familiar with the requirements.  I was excited at the thought of having a pilot in the family. That was until he decided he wanted to be a sports medicine doctor. And so it goes. … Note to self, kids frequently change their minds!

I believe in dreaming. I believe in trying making dreams come true. To do so often requires putting an  action plan together.  We must encourage our children and friends and those around us to discover what is their dream, their calling and go after it.  Tomorrow may be too late.   

This came to mind this past weekend as I watched my grand-daughter at her first soccer game. To say she was enthused to be there is an overstatement.   I think her interest level being there was right up with having a tooth pulled, getting a shot 

at the doctor or having the flu! 

Her parents gave her the opportunity to play a team sport, one in which requires running. She excels at running and is competitive so it seemed a likely choice.  Her performance at practice has been lacking but the true test was going to be at an actual game. 

Saturday arrived.  The weather was beautiful.   As the kids made their way to the field, my grand-daughter literally clung to her mom’s leg.   When she did make her way to the field, with her mom in tow, she promptly hit the ground playing in the nearest dirt pile.  That was the most action I saw out of her that day at the fields.  

I must say, she was the most striking girl out there though.   She had a fire, a presence and let it be known this was not her cup of tea. Even the least interested spectator could tell my grand-daughter was not partaking of the game soccer any time soon. 

There she stood, when she was not down cross legged in the dirt piles, with with her super long lean legs, big bow that was matched by a just as large brown beautiful eyes and a smile, when she choose to share it. Unfortunately, it only materialized when she was off the field rolling around on her mommy's lap! 

On the sidelines, her parents could not help but smile thinking of the contrast between this, what they saw out on this soccer field and her reaction on the dance floor. She screamed with delight at attending practice, smiled through out her classes and performed so wonderfully.   

It was an easy choice on what is a good investment of their time and their daughter's, bring joy into her life that brings smiles in her world or something that brings discontentment and frustration.  For now, they will give her a little more exposure to soccer to let the newness wear off and see if her attitude changes. If not, they will stick with helping her generate more smiles in her life.  

It is important for parents to cultivate a drive within their children and all others they meet a desire to be all that they want to be, be the best that they individually can be.  We owe that to ourselves, to God. That should be everyone's legacy when we leave this place.  Introduce your children, your friends, strangers, to new things. As new ideas come along, consider trying them out.   

Don't prejudge your children and label them; let them discover themselves by introducing different  skill sets, forms of expression or sports and recreational activities. Allow them to experience all the ways of tapping into themselves. They may have a hidden talent undiscovered!   We all need that feeling of fullness, oneness and success. It is especially true of children, our future leadership. 

Go beyond your comfort zone and expand who you are too. Lead by example  Living on the edge sometimes is a good thing. There may be a new talent you have. If not, have fun trying, being introspective and creating some memories.   

As I made the video below, I took various snapshots and had fun being creative. There are captions of occupations and opportunities we can do with our lives. We can go beyond our comfort zone and expand who we are with the simple stuff in life or the more difficult complex goals. 


There may be a talent in you, yet undiscovered, one you consider unreachable.  Some are serious, some are not so serious, but all captivate the mind.  They  make you think, what else could you be doing with your life?  Perhaps you should redefine yourself or refine who you are?   Now is the time. Why wait? I believe in you!

Grandkids Know What Easter is All About

Easter is a time for reflecting and rejoicing.

Coloring eggs and receiving baskets of candy and goodies. Lifting our voices up in song and giving thankful praise to our risen Lord. Being able to stop eating fish on Friday if you are Catholic. Going to church annually, on this particular Sunday, sometimes the only day folks attend all year.

It is also a time for reflection. The image above of God in His glory was taken from my step son Dan Bronold's face book page. Recently deceased, it was among his face book pictures posted. It stood out as most images were of his carefree lifestyle. This one was front and center because, at the heart of who he was was a Christian, a believer. In his quiet moments, he spoke of God. I think he intentionally posted that picture to let those of us that knew him know for certain, heaven was his end destination. Perhaps he even knew he would get there much sooner than the rest of us that love him but his image so proudly displayed let us know we will indeed see him on the other side. I am so proud of Dan for posting that image. As Jesus promised, if we believe, we too will get there.

Easter brings color in to children's lives along with sugar. Easter gives hope to the hopeless. Easter lights the way for Christians during troubled times in their lives and gives our journey purpose. It is the basis of our faith.


Perhaps the innocence of children celebrating Easter exemplifies the meaning of Easter best. Better than any words I can dare to write......see what you think...


Turn up your speakers, click on the video, and view it on a full screen




*Special thanks go out to Kaleb, Ava, Ty & Jake for making this video possible

Daniel James Bronold - Missing You

When the call came, time stood still. My husband’s only son was dead, my step son was gone from us and we stood in the kitchen in shock. Never to see him again or hear his voice seemed so painful, like a bad nightmare we would wake up from. But it is our reality we must live with, and so must all of those that have been touched by Dan in their lives. We must go on and so it is with those that you love that God finds they need to find their peace in heaven. Dan needed that, to be free of whatever was creating storm clouds in his heart. But it is with some frustration that I wrote this below and delivered it at his memorial service this past Sunday, March 25, 2012. Dan has been a mainstay in the news in Michigan with his death. He has become more of a news story than a human being. Let us not forget Dan was a son, a father, a significant other, a boyfriend, a step son, a step brother, a friend, and a Christian. And what else could he have been? I can only imagine…………………………………


Dear Dan,

I can only imagine what your life is like now. What you must see every day, how you must feel being free and at peace. I can see and feel that you smile in the heavens much like the sun gleams when it hits the white snow capped mountains or the ocean waves and reflects back the strong summer rays of sun.

Oh, knowing you are happy is wonderful to feel and sense but the pain we feel inside, that is real too. You seem so young in so many ways. It seems like yesterday you were among us, with that silly little smirk we all have come to know and love. We have all heard the stories of how you kicked butt at basketball ripping up the courts with your 3 on 3 in street high school games. You really rocked it man! For a big guy, you could really move it when you wanted to win! Guess those skills started with all those days watching basketball with your dad over Subway sandwiches all those years ago. Yeah, I am sure that had something to do with it.

I know you and your mom had a very special connection. No doubt it had its up and downs. Heck who doesn’t argue with their folks? But through it all there was that unmistakable love. You always knew she wanted the best for you and you wanted to make her proud. You wanted both your parents to be proud of you. And you tried, tried hard to pull it together. Sometimes things just don’t happen the way you would like. You dug down deep some times and other times, you took the easy way out. When you thought you dodged a bullet, another one came your way and you barely escaped. This time, this last time, you didn’t. Wow, none of us really thought this would be the end. The end of our time with you here on earth. We are in shock still somewhat Dan.

It is so easy to sit back now and say we wish you had listened to all the good advice and ignored all the bad advice thrown at you. I guess it is often times hard to know which is which when you are growing up. So much noise and so many voices. You were not happy inside and trying to always find your voice and never quite found it, but never gave up trying and for that Dan, you can be proud. You tried dude. We loved you man in spite of your faults and misgivings. We all wanted you to make it. We wanted you to find your piece of happiness and come to know peace. We just didn’t want it to be this way.

We know you have faith; we know you believe in the Lord. We know you are in His presence and we know He was with you in your final hours. Dan we think you knew at that last minute you breathed your last breath on this earth; the Lord God was with you Dan. He was there to lift you up out of that jail cell to internal freedom. He heard your pleas for help; he knew the struggle needed to end. You were not going to be condemned to damnation; you were forgiven and allowed to be at peace. Your torment is over. Your struggles serve as reminders to those that knew you that life can be hard. They serve as a witness to bad choices can put us in bondage and put chains around us so that we too can find ourselves wearing shackles, if not physically, metaphorically.

You were a precious child of God when you came into the world Dan, and you left this world in the same way, a precious child of God. You loved life but you died hating it. You loved God and you left this earth loving Him still. Amen! Please know that the day you left us, we were and still are loving you.

Dan, I will always remember your smile and smile when I remember you!

Help, The Coffee Is Out!

She wears her high heels,
And her stand up collar,
Her clothes match perfectly,
She looks worth a million dollars.

As she walks out the elevator,
All heads turn to watch her walk tall
So perfectly put together,
Appearing as if there is not one flaw.

As women have moved in droves to the workforce, the need to progress to higher level demanding roles has increased substantially. With that advent has come the ever ending pressure that is imperative to succeed in the business world. The biggest challenge seems to be fitting all the roles into one day, one lifetime. Trying to maintain some sort of balance, often times involves, either cutting back or eliminating some. Many are opting out of the traditional female iconic tasks of women in past years, long gone.

This really hit home with me a few weeks back when I overheard a woman make a comment to a coworker. This woman is a management supervisor at a high level agency that does impressive, recognizable marketing brand work for a leading manufacturer. Every time I have seen her in the office, she is like the woman above, minus the height! I recently learned she is single, thus I doubt she even has the time to date. She is impeccably dressed, well spoken, pleasantly mannered, articulate, and extremely well liked. Oh and not good in the kitchen!

As I was sitting at my desk, she came over to the two coffee pots by my work station. These two pots are exclusive for the coffee club. These are for those employees that pay to be in this “In Coffee Club” and taste outstanding coffee from overseas verses the free watered down version that is provided that poorly represents a good brew. As luck would not have it for her, the pot was empty. Rule of the club is when it is empty, you make the next pot. Apparently, she had never been in this predicament before and was feeling somewhat overwhelmed. She asked the gentleman who runs it if he would kindly show her how to make it, a pot of coffee. He seemed surprised but responded favorably.

Now what really hit my funny bone that morning was her comment to him, said under hushed tones. As he rounded the corner and came near her, she uttered, “Let me preface this with my saying that I am not domesticated.” With that said, a bold admission, and to a man, no less , I was impressed and humored.

Years ago there was a wonderful commercial everyone talked about. It was a woman professing to be able to go to work and then come home with bacon and fry it up in a pan and let her man know she was still a woman and he was a man. In a sense, she could do it all. Years before this commercial, there was a show called Wonder Woman. Now the picture would be a stressed out woman trying to do it all. A healthier picture is this woman at the office, realizing doing it all is not possible. Thus, she carefully picks and chooses what she wants and can do and leave the rest behind. Life is too short to do it all.

Women with careers, large families, etc, are short on time. My sister has three children all in sports and she works part time. She is lucky to find time to get her hair done, let alone bake cookies. My daughter in law has 3 small children, two in therapy. To clean the entire house daily would mean the children would have very little time to just spend playing with their mommy. Why not have someone come in and help around the house and spend the time with the children and doing things more meaningful when they are young? Choices women are making today make good sense. Granted they are different than the generation before but times have changed.

It is hard to wear too many hats. Most of us are not multiple personalities so can’t go from being a business woman, to a room mother, to a cheerleader coach, to chef, to housekeeper, banker, etc… All of these skills are what it takes to be a domestic engineer. Thus, many working women these days do not have those skill sets anymore. And I am not sure they should be expected to either. But it is funny to think they can balance a million dollar budget and yet are confused about how to cook a potato in the microwave!

Let us not forget too that being a stay at home mother is still an admirable job. It is extremely hard work. You try wearing all those hats and living at your place of employment. There is no off the clock, no coffee club, no meeting at the water cooler, 24/7 shifts, plus doing all roles yourself. No stay at home woman should have to justify that they are not out in the workforce either. It is just crazy, everyone I have met is just as busy, just doing different things and oh, has an immaculate home and cooks to beat the band! And they all seem to know how to bargain shop. In contrast, I have met more working women that have attended classes on how to collect and use coupons because they have no idea how to do either!

However, there are many working women that have managed to create a solid balance between exceptional business expertise and performance and domestic skill sets and bliss. For those that have not, just a few tips below:

Betty Crocker does not just make canned Beefaroni. She also makes cake mixes you can use as a base for excellent deserts and has her own brand of cookbooks.

Dinners are not meant to be cooked solely out of microwaves when you don’t feel like eating out or having take out.

Kitchens are made for cooking in regularly, not just for show for company and dinner parties exclusively.

Starbucks is way overpriced, you can make coffee in a coffee pot. Coffee pots come with instructions.

Good exercise is cleaning your house also, not just going to the gym, especially if you do it extra fast and quite rigorous.

Perhaps the lesson, if there is one, to be learned is appreciate the skills you are fostering in yourself. Recognize the beauty of who you are. Aunt Jemima didn’t care what the rest of the world thought about her pancakes or syrup so why should you?

Oh Baby, Here You Come!

I think the next time I go out of town and can’t find a place to stay with open vacancies I may just check at the local hospital and see if the Labor and Delivery Department has any rooms open. Have you seen those places these days? Wow, are they ever plush! Geez, if they were that nice when I was having kids, I would have had two more!

Back in the day, my hospital stay consisted of sterile white hospital rooms with white walls that were dingy and tile floors that looked like rejects from the local high school cafeteria. The bed was none other than compliments of the local obstetrician supplier, yep those kinds of cots with the funny foot braces on the end. And the accompanying chair for the spouse was not a comfy recliner but a chair, mind you a not very comfortable, slightly padded the desk chair variety. As if anyone could sleep over night on this, but back in these days, no one slept over night, visiting hours were over at 8:00 p.m. on the dot so the husbands flew out the door!

Okay, let me start with this, upon arriving at the hospital and checking in, I was met with a balloon of sorts. Nope not the kind for my child’s first birthday party but the kind that goes in your derriere, a good old fashion enema. As if the labor pains that were the required 5 minutes minimum apart weren’t bad and stressful enough, not I had to have administered a full bag enema to be sure my bowel was emptied. I prayed that the baby did not come out in the john as I was in there by myself and could not reach the nurse pull chain. I figured I would just yell like hell if I felt something boulder size come out. This sounded like a good exercise for a soon to be new mom.

My first experience with labor I was fortunate enough, or unfortunate enough to have a young teen age girl in the hospital in the wee hours of the morning like me. This way I knew I was not suffering in pain alone, they say misery loves company. Judging by her screaming, she was delivering a 15 pound baby. Oh, and by the way, I was at the ripe old age of 18 and learned quickly she was all of 13. Hence, the nurses were constantly flying to her room leaving my husband and me alone to wonder what the heck we were supposed to do to speed things along. He was hungry and tired; I was in pain and ready for this to be over.

Our first mistake was not to take the birthing classes. I wonder if we thought it would come naturally. Well, guess what, it didn’t. There was nothing natural to either of us about this experience. I don’t know who asked the nurse more, how much longer, him or me. When I got the shot in my spine for pain, giving in the middle of a contraction, I nearly died from the pain. But wait, where did my help go holding me at the end of the shot as I suddenly felt alone? Oh, there it is, on the floor attending to my faithful husband who fainted at the sight of the shot going in my back. I was left sitting on the table wondering where my medical assistant went. I was the one having the baby. I reminded them I was the headliner tonight, at least until the baby got here. I told my husband to get a grip. Maybe he did need something to eat after all and that made him faint but I was not about to let him out of sight or concede to that! No way was he missing out on this fun for a moment, he contributed so he was to be here for the Main Event! His feast was going to have to wait.

Well, somehow we made it through it. In those days, no one knew ahead of time what sex their baby was or if their child was going to be ok. When the baby came out, the doctor announced it. Ours took his good old sweet time. Funny looking back. He laid the baby on top of my stomach and the penis was sticking up like a proud peacock and about 3 minutes later he tells us we have a boy. Really? We look at each other, and can’t help but conceal some laughter. Did he really think we did not recognize the sex?

Baby number two went much more smoothly. This time we took no chances and took the birthing classes. Yes we took the pillow to class and took turns so he got to be the one having the baby. I must say he got so relaxed though he almost fell asleep. I can’t recall ever having that much comfort during labor so I am not sure this exercise was too realistic. The only I can envision going to sleep in a labor and delivery room is a husband, that is if he didn’t mind his wife getting royally ticked off at him. I knew mine would not dare fall asleep!

When the big day came, delivery number two, the stork was coming, he was ready to coach me this time through delivery. He was excited, in fact. Me, on the other end, at the front door, I stopped dead in my tracks. When he asked what was wrong, I pulled the woman’s prerogative number, “I changed my mind.” He looked perplexed, asking me about what. I told him very flatly, about having the baby, going through labor one more time. The last time had been so painful I was not sure I could endure it again. What a saint he was at that moment. With the utmost control, he urged me to at least go to the doctor’s office, as instructed over the phone to be checked out as my pains were irregular. I could think about it, meanwhile the snow continued to pile down on Northern Kentucky sticking to the roads.

He rushed to the doctors to check me out as my labor was irregular who quickly told him to get me down to the hospital so off we went, me still saying I was reluctant to through labor and, by now, him finding this quite humorous and reminding me I might not like the added weight for the rest of my life!

In Labor and Delivery, not much had changed from our last stay two and half years previous. Different hospital but you would never have known it. However, one thing drastically different was the severity of the labor pains. They were mild, extremely mild. Infact, my husband stood there, and then sat by me, routinely bending over me asking if I needed his coaching yet. See, he had mastered the art of labor coaching in the class and was ready to win the award for coach of the year. By God he would have won it too had I needed it. But, that baby came out effortlessly.

Now, both of us are remarried to two wonderful spouses we adore and remain friends. The four of us proudly share four grandchildren. I can’t help but sometimes think about how it began, our family, all those years ago. Bringing those two kids in the world was not like it is done today. We were not in a comfortable room by any stretch of the imagination. There was no family or friends there, just us two. There was no music, cute gowns for me or the baby, no nice furniture…but; it was magical, none the less. Whether is be a 4 Star Room or a starch white hospital delivery room, the birth of a child is a miracle to behold. It was our slice of heaven and I would not change it for anything in the world. It was a blessing and a moment neither of us shall ever forget and always treasure.

Some moments, they always bring a tear to the eye, just reflecting on them. A tear of joy, a tear of love and a tear of thanksgiving.

Handicap Biases

Don’t look at me because I am different,
Don’t stare at me because I act strange,
I know that I am not like most people,
I try my hardest to fit in and change.

Years of therapy,
Of trying to fit in,
Attempts to learn simple things,
With only the love of kin.

It is not easy,
My struggles are with day to day life,
Doing what you think are easy chores,
Things like opening doors,
But my life is worth living,
And you can help,
By being willing to be more giving.

Friends are few quite,
Most folks see me as a bother.
It is easier to ignore me
Then let me ask for help with a holler.
So never does a day go by,
That I don’t pray to our Father.

See, I need His Strength,
May it shower down on me from above!
I feel alone so many times in this world,
I feel comforted just knowing of His unconditional.


I value my life,
Even at this most basic level,
I refuse to let my cross weigh me down wear,
The negative attitude is for the Devil.

You know we all have a cross to bear,
We each have challenges on our back,
Perhaps that is why we are here to serve one another,
And help keep others on track.

Are you doing that for others?
Are you watching others in need?
Are you self absorbed and
Focused only on selfish greed?

No, even you can’t get to me,
So you can stare if you must,
I will survive the burden of a handicap,
Until I return to dust.

I am here for a purpose,
If you are wise you will surely see,
That God loves all his people,
So why not reach out a hand to me?

Take my message
And share it with others.
Remember, we are all brothers.