Embrace The Suck

Be sure to watch "The Oprah Winfrey Show" on Thursday, October 1st, where an organization I care about, Women for Women International, will be featured. Tune-in to the "Oprah" show this Thursday to hear Oprah's call to action and to see how we can actually change the course of history in our lifetime for women and girls around the world. Oprah, inspired by New York Times best-selling book " Half the Sky " by Pulitzer Prize winners Nicholas Kristof and his wife, Sheryl WuDunn will deliver a call to action to women. This eye-opening hour reveals powerful stories of women overcoming adversity to realize a better life for themselves. Check your local listings for channels and times and invite friends and family members who aren’t familiar with Women for Women International to tune in. I hope you will watch! Merry ME http://us.mg203.mail.yahoo.com/dc/launch?.partner=sbc&.gx=0&.rand=04r0sdtmu2rin

Does anyone out there know how to fix the spacing on this blog site? I type, double space between paragraphs and publish. Much to my dismay somewhere between the writing screen and the published screen gremlins attack the spaces so that when you see it, there is no space at all between paragraphs. At other times, for no reason that I can fathom because I do it the same way every time, I get too many spaces. What's up with that? Then, as you can tell (and so can I because I've already previewed it) the spacing is perfect. Just like I typed it. Weird. Weird. Weird. If you can help, please advise. Feeling space challenged, Merry ME

"God is our refuge and our strength, a very present help in trouble." Psalms 16:1 Last week when the Hospice social worker was here dad and I got in a discussion that was deep and painful. Even the lady whose job it was to keep us focused got a little lost. It wasn't so much like a volcano that suddenly erupted; more like a pot of water you put on the stove. First it gets hot, then little bubbles start to come to the top, then it's boiling away. To continue that metaphor, as we talked I believe all three of us looked for a lid to keep the hot water from splashing over the top. I cried - nothing new there. Yet through my tears I couldn't help but notice how uncomfortable my father was. It was clear emotional discussions are not his forte. He couldn't keep his hands still, or look above the table cloth. In typical fashion when he is not at ease, Dad tried to end the conversation by saying it was not needed. In spite of the pain of the moment I had a clear image...

"Nothing helps a bad mood like spreading it around.” Bill Watterson Dad announced last night after saying grace, "I feel mean." Forgive me for saying this but I thought was what's new? Then I realized the fact that he was announcing his mood was new. So I listened and tried to figure out what was going on. He wouldn't (couldn't) elaborate. I asked if he knew why he felt that way, he said no. I asked if there was anything I could do, he said stand back. I quit asking. We ate, like most nights, in relative silence. Jack and I discuss our day's events, never intentionally excluding Dad. He turns a deaf ear on any conversation that does not begin with an extra loud effort to get his attention. DAD! If asked, he'd tell you he feels lleft out, like a third wheel. If asked, I'd tell you he's as free to jump in as anyone else. He chooses to play his woe is me card. Dad has pretty much made it known that he does not like to be asked: How are you ...

"All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That's his." Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest, 1895 I would consider my mother a girly girl. When I was little (and not so little) I loved to sit on her bed and watch her get ready to go out. My parents party a lot but, usually at Christmas there were the mandatory office parties to attend. I remember that she had two really special dresses. One was red chiffon, with a full skirt that swayed back and forth when she walked. The other was her basic black cocktail dress. It was made of crepe, and hugged her curves in an A-line style. My dad had (has) a bit of a shoe fetish. Since mama was petite she would wear pointy-toed high heeled shoes, most often bought by my father. I think her dress up shoes were always black. On the afternoon of her rare night out, Mom would primp. She washed and curled her hair in the days before blow dryers or curling irons. Over the years she used rag curlers, b...

"When was the last time you did something for the first time?" Sally Edwards* For three days I have been writing about the experience of watching my daughter, Weneki, participate in her first triathlon. I say first because something tells me she might be doing it again next year. The ideas are out of my head and onto paper. Like a homemade loaf of bread the story is in the resting stage after being kneaded and shaped. I've covered it up for awhile before going back to it for yet another rewrite. I have never seen a triathlon in person so I had no idea what to expect. All I knew was that my determined daughter had been training for nine months - swimming, running and biking building up both her physical and emotional muscles. This race would not only be a test of her ability to perform in three race venues, it was the culmination of a task she'd set before herself. On that chilly morning over 800 women gathered singly and in groups to await the start of the race. I ...

"To get away from one's working environment is, in a sense, to get away from one's self; and this is often the chief advantage of travel and change. " Charles Horton Cooley I just got back from a whirlwind trip to the other side of the country to visit my daughter. Actually it was more than just a visit. It was an opportunity to witness the dynamic, awesome transformation of the girl I once knew into a woman capable of setting a goal and crossing the finish line with vigor and grace. The growing has been happening for years, I just haven't been around to watch. In my mind's eye Weneki is often still that little brown eyed, chubby-cheeked baby I held in my arms. In reality she is an athletic beauty to behold. At the beginning of the year Weneki set before herself two major goals. First of all she returned to college for a nine-month course that proved to be daunting but not un-doable. Second, she began training for the 1st annual Trek Women's Triathlon. Mor...

"Folk music gives comfort to a dark night." Mary Travers Sweetie broke the news to me this morning that Mary Travers, of Peter Paul and Mary fame, passed away. "I'm beginning to understand what Luther means when he says all his old friends are gone," he said with tears in his eyes. Travers' death coming on the heels of losing Patrick Swayze is kind of like a double punch to the gut. Who doesn't have memories of these two celebrities? Where were you when PPM sang of leaving on a jet plane? Saying your own goodbyes to someone who left all too often? Wishing for that ring that might keep them tied a little closer to you? Or do you think of being young, and dancing in the streets with flowers in your hair to music that spoke of political and social injustices? Where have all the flowers gone, I still wonder to myself? I admit that Dirty Dancing was a corn ball movie. Swayze may have made a name for himself in movie circles but he was no Cary Grant. Jus...

"Mixed feelings, like mixed drinks, are a confusion to the soul." George Carman Playing cards after dinner with my dad has become a nightly ritual. Sweetie leaves the table to read, Dad finishes a bowl of ice cream, the dog and cats get their treats and I shuffle the cards. The game is Gin Rummy - we think. It may just be rummy; or maybe just gin. Mainly it's deal out cards, make runs, match suits and try to go get rid of all your cards before the other person. It fills the hour that it takes Dad to drink his coffee before heading back to his room. We sit at the kitchen table where we eat most of our meals. The table is too big for the space so I feel cramped. It is on the other side of the oven, so I feel hot. We do not play a lively, cut-throat game of cards, throwing down insults or dares. It's more like we're playing a championship round of Texas Hold 'em in a sterile room in Vegas. There is very little conversation. One would think this is because we are...

" Don't dare to be different, dare to be yourself if that doesn't make you different then something is wrong." One of my daily routines is to visit blogland. I check out what other people have to say. Rather than reading the newspaper I prefer to jump from blog to blog to find what's going on in the world. That may sound impressive but I don't read political blogs. I go sites where creativity is shared and awareness of social issues is a priority. Some of the blogs I go to are just fun. And like picking a piece of chocolate out of a Whitman's Sampler I never know what I'm going to find when I click on a new blog. Recently I found this site: http://www.daringfemale.com/ Here's the first paragraph I read that pulled me in. Author Natasha Kogan wrote: Two years ago one of my most precious, life-long, “I can't believe this is ever going to happen” dreams came true – I wrote a book (The Daring Female's Guide to Ecstatic Living) and found a publ...

"Listen to the mustn'ts, child. Listen to the don'ts. Listen to the shouldn'ts, the impossibles,the won'ts. Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me... Anything can happen, child. Anything can be." Shel Silverstein According to the Hallmark calendar yesterday was Grandparents' Day. I didn't pay it much attention. My granddaughter lives miles away, my adopted grandson lives just about as far. My grandneices and nephews live on the other side of the country. With no one to play with or bake for or babysit, or spoil I often feel like Grammy is just another name. This morning, however, I was nudged towards remembering that out of sight doesn't always mean out of mind. Being a grandparent is a special blessing. Even if I'm not right in the faces of the little (and not so little anymore) ones or going to school plays, sitting in the front row clapping and hooting like a fool I hope I they know I'm watching as they grow. And praying tha...

If you can give your son or daughter only one gift, let it be enthusiasm. Bruce Barton Over the years I have been called upon to cheer my daughter over the finish line, and pump her full of confidence. Weneki is a can-do girl who likes to make things happen her own way. Most every project she starts she finishes, on her own timeline. However she oftens needs a little motivation along the way. That's where I come in. I've gotten pretty good at listening to her cry, then encouraging her to trust her own abilities and take the first step. When she was little we often read "The Little Engine That Could" by by Watty Piper, George Hauman, and Doris Hauman. I think we had both the original hardback version and the Golden Book in our library. "I think I can. I think I can. I think I can" has long been one of Weneki's mantras. Or maybe I should say it's been one of my mantras for her! When I mentioned before that Weneki likes to do things in her own sweet ti...

"You don't understand anything until you learn it more than one way." Marvin Minsky It's been an interesting day. Last night Sweetie declared that "we" were going to a Caregiver's Conference put on by our local Community Hospice. Oh goodie, I thought. It's Saturday, I get a hall pass for most of the day and I get to sit in a room and listen to a bunch of lectures on caregiving. It was like sitting in the choir loft and knowing there was going to be a really long sermon! What can they possibly say about taking care of a grumpy old man that I don't already know? My alternatives, however, were not much better - heading for Walmart or staying home and having a meaningful relationship with the vacuum cleaner. I didn't put up much of a fight. A day away from the house with my remarkable Sweetie sounded pretty good even if it was starting at 9am. Not an ungodly hour, but a certain someone likes to get to places early to scope them out, so it meant ...

We cannot know for certain how long we have here. We cannot foresee the trials or misfortunes that will test us along the way. We cannot know what God's plan is for us. What we can do is to live out our lives as best we can with purpose, and with love, and with joy. We can use each day to show those who are closest to us how much we care about them, and treat others with the kindness and respect that we wish for ourselves. We can learn from our mistakes and grow from our failures. And we can strive at all costs to make a better world, so that someday, if we are blessed with the chance to look back on our time here, we know that we spent it well; that we made a difference; that our fleeting presence had a lasting impact on the lives of others. President Barak Obama speaking at Sen. Edward Kennedy's Funeral I spent some time yesterday remembering the tragedy and horror of that September morning 8 years ago. However, I couldn't bring myself to watch the news or find any new ...

"Kindness is more than deeds. It is an attitude, an expression, a look,a touch. It is anything that lifts another person." Perhaps kindness is a purple vase of purple flowers sitting on the table waiting for you when you come in from a quick trip to Walmart that ended up being not so quick because you had to wait in the 20 or less EXPRESS line for 15 minutes. Perhaps what makes the kindness extra special is that the purple vase with the purple flowers arrived on a day that was not special in anyway. Not a birthday. Not an anniversary. It was just an ordinary Thursday. Perhaps what makes the kindness incredibly special is that the purple vase with the purple flowers came from a person you only know on the Internet, yet you feel like you've know her your whole life. Or wanted to know her, because she is the person you aspire to be. I believe random acts of kindness could make our world, if not exactly peaceful, a little easier to maneuver. Like that proverbial pebble t...

I've learned that mistakes can often be as good a teacher as success. Jack Welch Dad doesn't do a lot these days. Standing for any length of time hurts his back so he sits. He eats. He does crossword puzzles and he sleeps. In fact he sleeps so much during the day he's started waking up around 3am unable to go back to sleep. Anyone who has lain awake during those early morning hours knows there is nothing to do but recite multiplication tables, invent a health care system that will really work, or worry. My father is a creature of habit. After doing the same thing for several days in a row his body and mind are pretty much trained to continue doing that thing without giving it any thought. Depending on what the "thing" is the habit can either good or bad. Drinking a Manhattan before dinner or eating chocolate ice cream after dinner every night come hell or high water is considered a habit that has no ill consequences. However, Dad is less than comfortable lying aw...

... or is the universe trying to make a point? I just hit the post button to publish the last thing I wrote about, among other things, how our perceptions form our reality. Before closing my computer and trying to make a very real pile of ironing turn into nothing more than illusion, I read my email. This one may have gone around before but this is the first time I've seen it. The subject is:Experiment- worth the read. Here's what it said: Washington DC Metro Station on a cold January morning in 2007. The violinist played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, approximately 2 thousand people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.After 3 minutes a middle aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried to meet his schedule.Four minutes later, the violinist received his first dollar. A woman threw the money in the till and, without stopping, continued to walk.Six minutes after t...

"What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the Master calls a butterfly." Richard Bach I started thinking about the Joni Mitchell song, Both Sides Now , when I read today's "Cloud" post over at Honor Yourself . Terri often writes about her morning walks. Before I'm even thinking about starting my day, Ter is up and moving. I'm not sure how far she walks but I'm guessing it's a lot further than my legs would be willing to take me on a regular basis. Terri isn't just a speedy, let's-get-this-thing-over-with kind of walker. Along her well-worn path, she stops to talk to her neighbors, check on construction workers, and commune with nature. When she gets to the half-way point, what she calls her "good morning world" spot, she turns around and heads back for home. But not before standing there, on the edge of a busy street and taking in the beauty of each day. Rain or shine this imaginative woman can somehow convince herself...

"The news media are, for the most part, the bringers of bad news ... and it's not entirely the media's fault, bad news gets higher ratings and sells more papers than good news." Peter McWilliams In the last week I've heard stories about a girl who was kidnapped and held captive for 11 years, a family of eight killed in a mobile home park just up the road, and a Sudanese woman being jailed for wearing slacks in public. That doesn't take into account hurricanes, firestorms, or health care debates. It's not easy playing the Glad Game when there is so much bad stuff going on in the world. Just pick up the newspaper or turn on the tellie and you are apt to get sick to your stomach at the creepiness that exists on this planet. Except for doing the daily Jumble I've pretty much given up even looking at the newspaper. I'm trying to keep my depression at bay, not make it any worse. I call being news-challenged good self-care. Other's might call it livin...