I am constantly looking in to determine my state - where I am at this moment in life - and whether or not I am all that I can be. I am a perfectionist even though I don't really believe in perfection. But I do desperately want to be the best that I can be. There are some things in life that I know make me better.
Eating healthy - my constant battle that I am trying to win on my own terms before the medical profession steps in
Running - it is like flying to me and I want to do it as long as I can
My granddaughters - they make me smile at absolutely nothing and everything
Feeding my spirit - reading, praying, meditating
Surrounding myself with positive forces and eliminating those that weigh me back into the quagmire of self-doubt and negativity. For me this is people. I love being surrounded with positive people and those who have a perspective on the world that it is half full.
The other side of this coin is eliminating things that don't make me better and that, is more and more becoming people, as well. I can't handle being around the nay sayers, the poor me's or the all about me's. I'm a happy person but not happy enough to lift up the sad ones. So that means I must leave them behind. I can't afford to waste my thoughts or energy on being frustrated by their actions, words or even their mere presence in my life. This is much easier said than done. Those thoughts have a way of creeping back in and I tend to welcome them like an old friend. And then suddenly I realize I'm not sleeping, I'm force feeding myself sugar and carbs to soothe the pain and I'm questioning my decisions, both past and present. No more. I have the power to change those thoughts by simply thinking new ones. No more rain clouds darkening my blue skies. No more worrying over things and people that I can't change. In the words of Buddha, "We are shaped by our thoughts; we become what we think. When the mind is pure, joy follows like a shadow that never leaves." That's what I'm talkin' about!
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Wednesday, March 06, 2013
My Grandfather Made the Front Page!
Don Allen: Strong, independent at 105
By Mike Brownlee mbrownlee@nonpareilonline.com
Posted:
03/02/2013 11:30 PM
Don Allen worked the crowd Saturday night in the “Bunkhouse” at
Pizza Ranch, shaking hands with old friends, mugging for pictures with
family members. His wit sharp, his mind keen.
After 105 years on this planet, in this city, Allen is as independent as ever, a man with a simple credo for living a long life.
“Take it a day at a time,” Allen said on his birthday, his words accompanied by a chuckle. “I just live.”
Allen’s family and friends packed the restaurant party room, young and old stopping for a moment to catch up with the “family inspiration” – as put by granddaughter Tere Allen. Allen doesn’t like to talk about himself much, so his son Don, Jr., and others filled in the gaps.
Don Allen, Sr., was born on March 2, 1908. At the age of 8 Allen and family loaded into a horse and buggy to attend the funeral of Gen. Grenville Dodge, following the procession from his home to Walnut Hill Cemetery.
What does he remember about the funeral?
“The 21-gun salute,” sticks out, he said. “And it was cold.”
He attended school through freshman year at Abraham Lincoln, when he had to quit attending to help his family get by after his parents, brothers and sisters were put in quarantine – though he forgets what malady they had.
He lived through the Great Depression, which he described matter-of-factly as just awful.
“Nobody had a job, nobody had food. All the banks were broke,” he said. “But we got through it.”
Allen slept in the shed, waking up each morning to tend to livestock and try to make a living in the city.
What was that experience like, away from family, essentially on your own?
“I knew what I had to do,” Allen said. “It happened, we worked through it.”
The quarantine lasted 21 days, but Allen decided to keep working rather than go back to school. He was a day laborer in his early adult life, catching on anywhere he could. He spent a summer thrashing wheat and flax, another working in the garden at the Iowa School for the Deaf. His first full-time, steady job was at a seed store, which he began in 1936.
Before that he married Adelaide, in the late 20s. The pair were married 72 years, until she died in April of 2000.
Health problems confined her to a wheelchair late in life, but that didn’t stop Don Sr. from taking her around West Graham, to the home of neighbor Shirley and Bruce Jones to gaze at Shirley’s flowers or to Fairmont Park to watch the sunset.
“He’d take her everywhere,” said Bruce of his neighbor of more than 40 years.
Bruce’s eyes grew large while discussing his favorite neighbor, discussing long conversations they had about the history of Council Bluffs, the elder teaching the youngin’.
Don still shovels his walk if his neighbors don’t beat him to it. Allen mows his own lawn, cleans around the house and cooks his own meals.
Come spring he’ll work in his garden, growing a variety of vegetables to share with his friends on West Graham.
He grows cabbage to make sauerkraut, which is popular among family and friends. His tomatoes have contributed to gallons of pasta sauce.
“I’m 76, he’s in better health than me,” Bruce Jones said. “And he has a better memory. He’s unbelievable, just outstanding. The best. We just love Don.”
About his dad’s health – and sense of humor – Don Jr. noted his senior “goes to the doctor once a year to see how he, the doctor, is getting along.”
Along with Don Jr., Don has another son, six grandchildren, 12 great grandchildren and 12 great great grandchildren. Five generations attended the birthday party.
“Pretty awesome,” said his granddaughter, Pat Oneil, who celebrated her 62nd birthday at the party as well. “My grandchildren know my grandfather. Amazing.”
Tere Allen said he’s the model for the entire family.
“Living your life honestly, authentically, taking it one day at a time,” Tere said of what she’s learned from Grandpa.
At Pizza Ranch another disciple, Stephanie Jones – daughter-in-law of Bruce and Shirley – stopped by for a hug and a laugh. Jones calls him a dear friend. Around the time Adelaide died, Stephanie’s husband Kurt died, bringing the neighbors close together.
“He saved me,” Stephanie said. “Such an inspiration.”
As the party progressed, Don’s young friend Bob Sorenson, 102, arrived. The pair quickly entered their own world, catching up like old chums who haven’t seen each other as often as they’d like. After a while Don needed to get up and moving, sharing jokes with other partygoers.
Pulled aside, outside Don’s earshot, each guest – to a person – raved about the patriarch, their eyes wide, their smiles broad.
“He’s a go-getter. He’s a 30-year-old 105-year-old. A crazy man,” Stephanie said, a grin on her face. “I remember a few years back, he was in his 100s. West Graham has these deep ditches from the road to our yards, and mine had a 2X4 piece of wood spanning the ditch. I look out my window and see Don walking, tight-roping, across the board.
“I ran out there and said, “What are you doing? Are you crazy?”
His reply?
“‘I’m seeing if I still have it.’”
One-hundred and five years into his life, Don Allen still has it.
After 105 years on this planet, in this city, Allen is as independent as ever, a man with a simple credo for living a long life.
“Take it a day at a time,” Allen said on his birthday, his words accompanied by a chuckle. “I just live.”
Allen’s family and friends packed the restaurant party room, young and old stopping for a moment to catch up with the “family inspiration” – as put by granddaughter Tere Allen. Allen doesn’t like to talk about himself much, so his son Don, Jr., and others filled in the gaps.
Don Allen, Sr., was born on March 2, 1908. At the age of 8 Allen and family loaded into a horse and buggy to attend the funeral of Gen. Grenville Dodge, following the procession from his home to Walnut Hill Cemetery.
What does he remember about the funeral?
“The 21-gun salute,” sticks out, he said. “And it was cold.”
He attended school through freshman year at Abraham Lincoln, when he had to quit attending to help his family get by after his parents, brothers and sisters were put in quarantine – though he forgets what malady they had.
He lived through the Great Depression, which he described matter-of-factly as just awful.
“Nobody had a job, nobody had food. All the banks were broke,” he said. “But we got through it.”
Allen slept in the shed, waking up each morning to tend to livestock and try to make a living in the city.
What was that experience like, away from family, essentially on your own?
“I knew what I had to do,” Allen said. “It happened, we worked through it.”
The quarantine lasted 21 days, but Allen decided to keep working rather than go back to school. He was a day laborer in his early adult life, catching on anywhere he could. He spent a summer thrashing wheat and flax, another working in the garden at the Iowa School for the Deaf. His first full-time, steady job was at a seed store, which he began in 1936.
Before that he married Adelaide, in the late 20s. The pair were married 72 years, until she died in April of 2000.
Health problems confined her to a wheelchair late in life, but that didn’t stop Don Sr. from taking her around West Graham, to the home of neighbor Shirley and Bruce Jones to gaze at Shirley’s flowers or to Fairmont Park to watch the sunset.
“He’d take her everywhere,” said Bruce of his neighbor of more than 40 years.
Bruce’s eyes grew large while discussing his favorite neighbor, discussing long conversations they had about the history of Council Bluffs, the elder teaching the youngin’.
Don still shovels his walk if his neighbors don’t beat him to it. Allen mows his own lawn, cleans around the house and cooks his own meals.
Come spring he’ll work in his garden, growing a variety of vegetables to share with his friends on West Graham.
He grows cabbage to make sauerkraut, which is popular among family and friends. His tomatoes have contributed to gallons of pasta sauce.
“I’m 76, he’s in better health than me,” Bruce Jones said. “And he has a better memory. He’s unbelievable, just outstanding. The best. We just love Don.”
About his dad’s health – and sense of humor – Don Jr. noted his senior “goes to the doctor once a year to see how he, the doctor, is getting along.”
Along with Don Jr., Don has another son, six grandchildren, 12 great grandchildren and 12 great great grandchildren. Five generations attended the birthday party.
“Pretty awesome,” said his granddaughter, Pat Oneil, who celebrated her 62nd birthday at the party as well. “My grandchildren know my grandfather. Amazing.”
Tere Allen said he’s the model for the entire family.
“Living your life honestly, authentically, taking it one day at a time,” Tere said of what she’s learned from Grandpa.
At Pizza Ranch another disciple, Stephanie Jones – daughter-in-law of Bruce and Shirley – stopped by for a hug and a laugh. Jones calls him a dear friend. Around the time Adelaide died, Stephanie’s husband Kurt died, bringing the neighbors close together.
“He saved me,” Stephanie said. “Such an inspiration.”
As the party progressed, Don’s young friend Bob Sorenson, 102, arrived. The pair quickly entered their own world, catching up like old chums who haven’t seen each other as often as they’d like. After a while Don needed to get up and moving, sharing jokes with other partygoers.
Pulled aside, outside Don’s earshot, each guest – to a person – raved about the patriarch, their eyes wide, their smiles broad.
“He’s a go-getter. He’s a 30-year-old 105-year-old. A crazy man,” Stephanie said, a grin on her face. “I remember a few years back, he was in his 100s. West Graham has these deep ditches from the road to our yards, and mine had a 2X4 piece of wood spanning the ditch. I look out my window and see Don walking, tight-roping, across the board.
“I ran out there and said, “What are you doing? Are you crazy?”
His reply?
“‘I’m seeing if I still have it.’”
One-hundred and five years into his life, Don Allen still has it.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Life List - The Gratitude Journal
I am nearing the end of my first two months of keeping a gratitude journal. It is possible that it has changed my view of the world but I'm not certain. It has certainly let me to be more reflective on a daily basis. It is rare that I leave it out of my day but when I do, I always remember it the next morning because I have that weird feeling that something is missing.
During the first few days, I began to look for things to be grateful for as I went through my day but by the end of the second week that was unnecessary. I really don't know if I am basically a positive person or habits really do happen that fast. At any rate, I am a happier person to end my day in thankfulness.
During the first few days, I began to look for things to be grateful for as I went through my day but by the end of the second week that was unnecessary. I really don't know if I am basically a positive person or habits really do happen that fast. At any rate, I am a happier person to end my day in thankfulness.
Monday, February 18, 2013
Happy Birthday Grandpa
It is time to once again celebrate the most amazing man on the planet. My grandfather is turning 105! My annual gift is always a letter to share my love. The 2013 version follows.
February 26, 2013
Dear Grandpa,
In just a few short days, I will be winging my way home. I am coming home to Iowa, to that cute little house on West Graham and to your loving arms. Eppley Airport has become the threshold to all those warm feelings that symbolize the home of my childhood. As the plane touches down I know that I am only moments away from being swept away with that love of home. Grandpa, you are that home for me.
Home is a safe refuge from the world. You are warm and loving, always welcoming me in out of the cold or heat to leave behind whatever needless worries or concerns have occupied my mind. I step through the door and all that matters is that once again I am with you. I have been given one more chance to laugh and learn from you.
To be home is to know love. You are love personified. Our time together is filled with hugs and kisses, holding hands and just sitting together, side by side, as we talk. Nobody does that better than you. I never leave you without the knowledge that I am loved for who I am, for all that I have become and that you are proud of me.
Home is where we are safe and sound. I have the belief that nothing bad can ever happen as long as I am with you. You have always been there to protect me and get me through the rough stuff. Your simple words of advice is the light that leads me though the challenges that have made me stronger. The model you have created for me to live life simply and honestly has taught me how to endure as the world becomes more and more unrecognizable as a place that is loving and secure.
Home is the locus of the family. Grandpa, your house is filled with family, not only in human form but the pictures on the wall confirm it as well. It is there that I can see myself as I truly was and am. I see me as a daughter, a graduate, a wife and mother and now grandmother. The journey is there to behold for each of your descendents with just a simple glance around the living room. The message is clear, family is all that matters.
Home is where the heart is. I walk through your door and could cry just from the emotion of it all. I am loved. I am wanted. I am respected. Grandpa, I can't wait to see you again. I always know that when we are together something wonderful is about to happen. I know that I will leave better than I was when I came. I will be smarter, able to do something that I couldn't do before, more caring, and filled with wisdom that I will share with my own children and grandchildren in the years to come. To be in your presence is to know that wisdom wrapped in love is about to be dropped in my lap. And I will scoop it up like candy and devour it.
So as I prepare to celebrate the birthday of the most amazing man on the planet, my heart is filled with love and gratitude for all that you have been for me through the years. You are love. You are home. You are all that I hope to me for my own grandchildren: a safe harbor from the storms of life, a place to laugh at nothing and everything, a warm embrace that will be felt for all of eternity.
February 26, 2013
Dear Grandpa,
In just a few short days, I will be winging my way home. I am coming home to Iowa, to that cute little house on West Graham and to your loving arms. Eppley Airport has become the threshold to all those warm feelings that symbolize the home of my childhood. As the plane touches down I know that I am only moments away from being swept away with that love of home. Grandpa, you are that home for me.
Home is a safe refuge from the world. You are warm and loving, always welcoming me in out of the cold or heat to leave behind whatever needless worries or concerns have occupied my mind. I step through the door and all that matters is that once again I am with you. I have been given one more chance to laugh and learn from you.
To be home is to know love. You are love personified. Our time together is filled with hugs and kisses, holding hands and just sitting together, side by side, as we talk. Nobody does that better than you. I never leave you without the knowledge that I am loved for who I am, for all that I have become and that you are proud of me.
Home is where we are safe and sound. I have the belief that nothing bad can ever happen as long as I am with you. You have always been there to protect me and get me through the rough stuff. Your simple words of advice is the light that leads me though the challenges that have made me stronger. The model you have created for me to live life simply and honestly has taught me how to endure as the world becomes more and more unrecognizable as a place that is loving and secure.
Home is the locus of the family. Grandpa, your house is filled with family, not only in human form but the pictures on the wall confirm it as well. It is there that I can see myself as I truly was and am. I see me as a daughter, a graduate, a wife and mother and now grandmother. The journey is there to behold for each of your descendents with just a simple glance around the living room. The message is clear, family is all that matters.
Home is where the heart is. I walk through your door and could cry just from the emotion of it all. I am loved. I am wanted. I am respected. Grandpa, I can't wait to see you again. I always know that when we are together something wonderful is about to happen. I know that I will leave better than I was when I came. I will be smarter, able to do something that I couldn't do before, more caring, and filled with wisdom that I will share with my own children and grandchildren in the years to come. To be in your presence is to know that wisdom wrapped in love is about to be dropped in my lap. And I will scoop it up like candy and devour it.
So as I prepare to celebrate the birthday of the most amazing man on the planet, my heart is filled with love and gratitude for all that you have been for me through the years. You are love. You are home. You are all that I hope to me for my own grandchildren: a safe harbor from the storms of life, a place to laugh at nothing and everything, a warm embrace that will be felt for all of eternity.
Renewing Hope in Humanity
Saturday I made my way to the San Tomas Creek Trail for a nice morning run. I donned my running clothes, water bottle, iPhone and ID and away I went. My ID and phone were in the same pocket so I was careful each time that I checked the mileage on my phone that my license was safe. I got home and got organized for the rest of my day but my license was no where to be found. I looked everywhere that I could think of over and over again with no luck. Finally I went back to the trail to search. But once again, no luck. Two thoughts ran simultaneously through my mind. Some bad guy will find it and steal my identity. Some good guy will find it and return it. I started facing facts and set up an appointment at the dreaded DMV. Then out of the blue, 36 hours after it was lost, a man knocked on the door, symbolizing all that is good in the world, holding my license in his hand and bearing the sweetest smile on his face. I could have kissed him! My faith in humankind was immediately reborn. People are inherently good and when given the opportunity will do the right thing.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Rules to Live By
January seems to have been a death and funeral month for me. Ray is gone as is Jane Anderson and Lois Mallison. Although all of these deaths left me with sadness and loss I also learned some things along the way. At Lois's funeral two of her children started the readings off with words of wisdom that Lois had been recording in a journal for years. It made me start to think about the rules of life that I follow.
Life is a journey.
Stay in the moment.
The universe is in charge.
Breathe.
You can handle anything for a year.
Everything is as it should be.
No one can make you feel anything but you.
Think happy thoughts.
Challenge yourself.
Be who you were meant to be.
Give thanks.
There's no place like home.
Live life fully.
You are right where you are supposed to be.
Worrying is a waste of time.
Follow your dreams.
Be authentic.
Rain is the balance to sun. We cannot truly appreciate the good without the bad.
When you find yourself fighting against life let go and trust that it will all turn out the way it is meant to be.
You teach others how you want to be treated.
If you allow negativity, it will grow and overtake all that is good..
Whatever you put out in the world, will come back to you.
Life is a journey.
Stay in the moment.
The universe is in charge.
Breathe.
You can handle anything for a year.
Everything is as it should be.
No one can make you feel anything but you.
Think happy thoughts.
Challenge yourself.
Be who you were meant to be.
Give thanks.
There's no place like home.
Live life fully.
You are right where you are supposed to be.
Worrying is a waste of time.
Follow your dreams.
Be authentic.
Rain is the balance to sun. We cannot truly appreciate the good without the bad.
When you find yourself fighting against life let go and trust that it will all turn out the way it is meant to be.
You teach others how you want to be treated.
If you allow negativity, it will grow and overtake all that is good..
Whatever you put out in the world, will come back to you.
Friday, January 04, 2013
Family
Today we say good-bye to the loving spirit who went by the name of Ray Bunt. He was the grandfather of my son-in-law and it was my distinct pleasure to be inducted into his extended "family." To Ray, we were all family and I learned a lot about that word from him.
Dinner always begins with a beverage - usually alcoholic. People are just a lot happier when they drink and by golly, there's no reason not to be happy in this life.
Christmas is sacred and everybody shows up. The in-laws, the out-laws, everybody. He believed strongly that once you're in the family, you are always welcome at the door. It matters not how you left, you can always come home again.
Birthdays are your own celebration. It's the only day of the year that you can call your own. Being born on the 4th of July made him a bit of fire cracker and the 4th even more exciting than it normally would have been. In years gone by it might include him donning his swimming suit but it always meant a party, beer, and explosions at the end.
Marriage was through thick and thin. He was extremely dedicated to his wife, Ann. He understood that she was the glue that kept everything together. He knew that he went off to work but she did the real work. She dressed and fed everyone under their roof and anyone else who might just happen to show up. He was the life of the party but he knew that she carried on the day to day normal stuff that made the parties possible.
Hugs and kisses are the perfect way to say hello and until I see you again. That man gave some great hugs. He followed up with a kiss and words that flew right into your heart and will live there for all of eternity. Well hello. It's great to see you. How have you been? How are your folks? You knew that he was happy to see you and really wanted to be with you. He wanted to know how you were, how your parents were doing and anything else that was going on in your life. He could carry on a conversation with anyone about anything because he had a knack for getting to know people.
Ray taught me very quickly that family is what it is all about. His family grew and grew through the years and I am absolutely thrilled to have felt a part of it. I will always remember the twinkle in his eyes, the solid embrace that met you at his door, and the love that you felt just being in his presence. I know that he is already up in heaven setting up his welcome home party and that he and Ann are back together again.
Dinner always begins with a beverage - usually alcoholic. People are just a lot happier when they drink and by golly, there's no reason not to be happy in this life.
Christmas is sacred and everybody shows up. The in-laws, the out-laws, everybody. He believed strongly that once you're in the family, you are always welcome at the door. It matters not how you left, you can always come home again.
Birthdays are your own celebration. It's the only day of the year that you can call your own. Being born on the 4th of July made him a bit of fire cracker and the 4th even more exciting than it normally would have been. In years gone by it might include him donning his swimming suit but it always meant a party, beer, and explosions at the end.
Marriage was through thick and thin. He was extremely dedicated to his wife, Ann. He understood that she was the glue that kept everything together. He knew that he went off to work but she did the real work. She dressed and fed everyone under their roof and anyone else who might just happen to show up. He was the life of the party but he knew that she carried on the day to day normal stuff that made the parties possible.
Hugs and kisses are the perfect way to say hello and until I see you again. That man gave some great hugs. He followed up with a kiss and words that flew right into your heart and will live there for all of eternity. Well hello. It's great to see you. How have you been? How are your folks? You knew that he was happy to see you and really wanted to be with you. He wanted to know how you were, how your parents were doing and anything else that was going on in your life. He could carry on a conversation with anyone about anything because he had a knack for getting to know people.
Ray taught me very quickly that family is what it is all about. His family grew and grew through the years and I am absolutely thrilled to have felt a part of it. I will always remember the twinkle in his eyes, the solid embrace that met you at his door, and the love that you felt just being in his presence. I know that he is already up in heaven setting up his welcome home party and that he and Ann are back together again.
Tuesday, January 01, 2013
Living Life in Gratitude
I am beginning a new blog today - one of gratitude. My original plan was to keep it in a journal but after my morning run, I would have already filled the space for the day. So it seems I have quite a lot to be grateful for.
You can find it here
You can find it here
Friday, December 28, 2012
Pondering the End of Life
A very dear friend of mine is saying her final good-bye to her mother. As a result, I too am saying good-bye to an amazing woman. Lois is one of those women whom the minute you meet her, you become family. You sit down to tea and cookies which are always on hand and you are immediately enveloped into the warmth of her kitchen and the embrace of her arms. She constantly asks about you and what you are doing. And they are never the easy questions. She comments exactly the way a mom should - with love and acceptance but always challenging you to be the best you can be. She believes strongly that we all leave our mark on the world and that it better be a good one. She has made us all better than we would have been without her touch. She dedicated her life to her family and was one of the most amazing cooks I have ever met. But somehow she also knew what it was like to be a working mom and could put herself in my place without blinking an eye. There is a part of me that still cannot accept or come to terms with the fact that in a matter of days or weeks she will be gone and we will be left with only memories of her. I know that is a fact of life (and death) but it doesn't mean I have to like it. Being 58 and still having the pleasure of my grandfather and parents' company here on earth doesn't make it easy to deal with death. The advise I have received from everyone was to say my good-byes. Her health has degenerated so quickly that it wasn't possible for me to do it face to face. I can only pray that my parting words gave her half the joy that she gave to me in our time together. Lois, I will miss you - more than you can ever know.
Dear Lois,
Dear Lois,
Life is made of opposites and they are what make it so beautiful. Our joys are so much more joyful because of the sorrows that we endure. The sunshine that comes after the rain is brighter because of the dreariness we have passed through. And the pleasure of knowing you has become so much more precious because of the knowledge that you are leaving us. I struggle to imagine a world without you because you have brought such incredible pleasure to every life you have ever touched in your short time here. There have been many times that you were very simply the personification of Mom for me and lots of others. You have been what every mom should be - loving, healing everything with a hug and something sweet but challenging us always to be more and to leave our mark on the world. Every memory I have of time spent with you brings a smile and I consider myself so blessed to just have been in your presence. There are certain things that I see and I think only of you, tea pots, that certain hue of blue, the old homes of Los Gatos, apple pie. You have left a mark on me that will never be erased. From you I learned how to be a better teacher, a better mom and you ushered me into the amazing world of grandchildren. I say good-bye to you today with the chance that it may be my last opportunity. I pray that we have at least one more time to sit together and hold each other's hands and part with a hug. But if you pass through to the heaven that awaits you before that happens I want you to know how deeply you are loved and what an amazing woman you are. I pray that you enjoy your final days surrounded with the love of your family and friends in ways that you never dreamed possible. I send this with all my love and admiration for you and the incredible life you have lived. You have been an inspiration to me and I love you more than you can imagine
Friday, November 23, 2012
You Need To Be a Grandparent
An open letter to a dear friend and someone who knew more about me than I did myself:
Not so long
ago, a very wise man made it abundantly clear to me that I needed to be a
grandmother. You and I would argue back and forth about this notion.
My answer was always no, it wasn't necessary. I didn't want my
children having children just so I could be a grandmother. Well, I am here to
say that you were right, Dan! After only a couple years of my new title
as Grandma Tere, I believe that I really was made for this grandparenting thing
and that I did NEED to be a grandmother.
I have
never been happier with any phase of my existence than I am right now.
And it is all because of these two little beings who share my life. Just
being with them brings me utter and complete joy. I am constantly in a state of bliss. Callie's laughter
has a direct line to my heart and I can't stop myself from giggling over
Lucia's babbling conversations. I
love everything about being a grandparent and I can’t get enough of it.
Our weekly
date night has very little to do with Maria and Bill going out together; it’s
all about my special alone time with the girls. It is a chance for them to know who I am in their lives and
for me to marvel at their unique personalities. We play, we talk, we laugh our deep belly laughs that echo
their way into my very being. I
hold onto the simplest memories of our time together; playing train or farm or
dollhouse, baking cookies, eating popcorn and drinking hot chocolate. They become what sustains me until we
are together to do it all over again.
It is hard
for me to think of a time when I was without them in my life. How empty it must have been! And how sad you must have been to hear
me say over and over again that I didn’t need to play this role; that I didn’t
need to have this unbridled love throwing me back into life. I laugh and cry now more than I ever
have. I see the world through
little eyes and short legs and it is filled with awe and beauty. I have never loved anyone more deeply
and completely than I do these two beautiful girls. How lucky I am to be in this time and place where I have the
honor of sitting back and watching these two lives unfold before my very eyes. I am truly blessed.
Every time
I get that little twinge in my heart over something they have done or said or
some new thing that they can do, I think of you and I remember. I remember over and over again your
words and your deep desire for me to experience all of this. I smile and say to myself, Dan was
right. He was so very right.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Giving Thanks
Although this will be a very different Thanksgiving for me, the focus of the day does not change. I am constantly in a state of gratitude these days.
I am able to work in a job I love. It pays the bills and rewards me with untold love, affection and entertainment. I have an incredible group of families that support and sustain me financially, emotionally and even spiritually. I couldn't be happier.
I am enveloped with never ending love from my granddaughters. These two girls have the most amazing smiles that melt away any concern that I may have had the second before they appeared. I love watching them grow and change and become who they are meant to be. Their love is overflowing and I am thrilled to catch it and swallow it up.
I am thankful for my daughter and son-in-law. They have given my life more meaning than I ever thought it could hold. I love journeying with them through all the physical and emotional challenges of raising 2 beautiful daughters. I love the deep and meaningful conversations we are still somehow able to sustain throughout the often times chaotic households we find ourselves in. I am blessed to be such an important part of their lives.
I am grateful for the friends who, despite my scheduling challenges continue to work with me to find time for face to face friendship so that our relationships continue to grow and feed my spirit. It isn't easy but it is always worth the effort. We leave one another happier and stronger because of our time together.
I am lucky to still have my grandfather and parents leading my path. I depend on them more than they know. They model for me ways to live an honest and authentic life, always remaining true to your beliefs, morals and convictions. They have made me a stronger woman than I could ever possibly be on my own.
I am thankful for my sister/friend. We are more than sisters and the older we get, the more we bring to one another. She understands me in ways that no one else in the world ever will. I love growing older with her at my side and can't wait for our next adventure.
I give thanks for my brother and sister-in-law who can make me laugh when no one else can. I love sharing my day care adventures with Vickie. She gets it and knows what I am feeling before I even know it myself. The two of them are an incredible example of getting through the tough stuff and remaining true to the love that first brought you together. I constantly marvel at the bond of their relationship.
Although it may sound cliche, I am deeply grateful for my health. My sister had a very close call this year and the thought of losing her overwhelmed me in ways that were difficult to comprehend. It seems in the past few weeks, I have been inundated with messages from friends and family whose loved ones have become terribly ill. It is the constant reminder to be grateful for all that we have today. The world and all its inhabitants are fleeting and transient. Stay in the moment and don't wait for tomorrow.
So on this Thanksgiving 2012 I say thank you. Thank you to all the people who touch my life in profound ways. Thank you for not only loving me, but for taking the time to show it and say it out loud. I am eternally grateful and am a better person because of your presence in my life.
I am able to work in a job I love. It pays the bills and rewards me with untold love, affection and entertainment. I have an incredible group of families that support and sustain me financially, emotionally and even spiritually. I couldn't be happier.
I am enveloped with never ending love from my granddaughters. These two girls have the most amazing smiles that melt away any concern that I may have had the second before they appeared. I love watching them grow and change and become who they are meant to be. Their love is overflowing and I am thrilled to catch it and swallow it up.
I am thankful for my daughter and son-in-law. They have given my life more meaning than I ever thought it could hold. I love journeying with them through all the physical and emotional challenges of raising 2 beautiful daughters. I love the deep and meaningful conversations we are still somehow able to sustain throughout the often times chaotic households we find ourselves in. I am blessed to be such an important part of their lives.
I am grateful for the friends who, despite my scheduling challenges continue to work with me to find time for face to face friendship so that our relationships continue to grow and feed my spirit. It isn't easy but it is always worth the effort. We leave one another happier and stronger because of our time together.
I am lucky to still have my grandfather and parents leading my path. I depend on them more than they know. They model for me ways to live an honest and authentic life, always remaining true to your beliefs, morals and convictions. They have made me a stronger woman than I could ever possibly be on my own.
I am thankful for my sister/friend. We are more than sisters and the older we get, the more we bring to one another. She understands me in ways that no one else in the world ever will. I love growing older with her at my side and can't wait for our next adventure.
I give thanks for my brother and sister-in-law who can make me laugh when no one else can. I love sharing my day care adventures with Vickie. She gets it and knows what I am feeling before I even know it myself. The two of them are an incredible example of getting through the tough stuff and remaining true to the love that first brought you together. I constantly marvel at the bond of their relationship.
Although it may sound cliche, I am deeply grateful for my health. My sister had a very close call this year and the thought of losing her overwhelmed me in ways that were difficult to comprehend. It seems in the past few weeks, I have been inundated with messages from friends and family whose loved ones have become terribly ill. It is the constant reminder to be grateful for all that we have today. The world and all its inhabitants are fleeting and transient. Stay in the moment and don't wait for tomorrow.
So on this Thanksgiving 2012 I say thank you. Thank you to all the people who touch my life in profound ways. Thank you for not only loving me, but for taking the time to show it and say it out loud. I am eternally grateful and am a better person because of your presence in my life.
Sunday, October 28, 2012
In Search of God - or something like that
There I said it, now I have to do it. I am in search of God, once again. It has been 14 years since my divorce from my husband and the Catholic Church. The latter has taken much longer and been much more difficult. I have walked over the threshold of several Catholic churches and back again many times trying to be a "good" Catholic or maybe just trying to forgive the church for being so blind. How can they eliminate so many good and loving people from their congregation because we happen to be divorced or gay? I will never understand it and clearly never get over it.
The church talk came up during The Cousins' Trip a couple times, sometimes over a glass or two of wine and sometimes morning coffee. So it started to stick and grow inside of me. My cousin gave me a suggestion about where to start looking and today was the birth of my journey. Like all journeys, I don't know where it will lead or how it will end but I am ready to begin. Being the age I am brings a lot of preconceptions to the faith department that I may or may not be able to reconcile. In all honesty I loved Catholic worship. It was full of ritual, customs, music and prayer. I'm still searching for that without the blinders and politics that come with the Catholic package. I really don't want to be a part of an organized religion because I don't want my prayer life to be tied to my checkbook.. I also have some weird little quirks about literal bible translations and assumptions about evangelical faiths. I'm slowly learning with the help of Google that most non-denominational churches actually have some ties to the evangelical movement. I have tried Unity and liked parts of it but it was just too vague and ambiguous for me to benefit from spiritually. And that's what this is all about for me, to find a spiritual home.
The church talk came up during The Cousins' Trip a couple times, sometimes over a glass or two of wine and sometimes morning coffee. So it started to stick and grow inside of me. My cousin gave me a suggestion about where to start looking and today was the birth of my journey. Like all journeys, I don't know where it will lead or how it will end but I am ready to begin. Being the age I am brings a lot of preconceptions to the faith department that I may or may not be able to reconcile. In all honesty I loved Catholic worship. It was full of ritual, customs, music and prayer. I'm still searching for that without the blinders and politics that come with the Catholic package. I really don't want to be a part of an organized religion because I don't want my prayer life to be tied to my checkbook.. I also have some weird little quirks about literal bible translations and assumptions about evangelical faiths. I'm slowly learning with the help of Google that most non-denominational churches actually have some ties to the evangelical movement. I have tried Unity and liked parts of it but it was just too vague and ambiguous for me to benefit from spiritually. And that's what this is all about for me, to find a spiritual home.
The Gym
A few weeks ago I came to terms with the fact that if I was going to keep this running thing going, I was going to have to join the gym. Why? Because of darkness! A few months ago I thought I could solve this problem by simply wearing a headlamp and carry on as usual. But darkness brings more than the absence of light. It brings out people who don't want to be seen in daylight. I'm at a certain age and I simply don't want to deal with things that can be potentially dangerous like falling down or being hurt in some way. So the headlamp has moved out of my running gear and gone into the camping supplies. And I am making regular trips to Club One. The first trip was one of the most painful things I have done in quite a while. Running on a treadmill is just boring compared to being outside in the fresh air. But I wasn't ready for the heat. I did a 6 mile run and walked out of that place soaked. Since then, I had to recover from the Healdsburg Half Marathon so it meant I wasn't doing that much running. The good news is that I have been able to rebuild my distance again on the treadmill. I am learning what to "watch" while I run. One of the most enjoyable runs I've had so far was watching the final presidential debate. That would have been painful no matter what I was doing, so why not get a run in while you're at it.
The next step of my gym journey was to meet with a trainer. I wasn't looking forward to this but I also knew I needed to balance my running with some strength training. All I wanted was for him/her to just hand me a program and let me go on my merry way. But that was not to be. Oh no. They want to get to know you and weasel you into a training program. So along the way they did some evaluation - weight, blood pressure, measurement of different parts of the body, bicep strength, squats, and pushups. I knew that I was in better shape than I have ever been before but I had no idea how that would play out in a numbers game. My numbers kept coming up in the physically fit category and bordering on an athlete. I have never thought of myself as an athlete so the term just made me giggle. But when the measurement of my body fat came out at 19% I stood up and took notice. And for my final smile of the night, the trainer informed me that my athletic age is not my chronological 58 but rather 54. How about that? A few months of run/walking and I just gained 4 years. Awesome!
The next step of my gym journey was to meet with a trainer. I wasn't looking forward to this but I also knew I needed to balance my running with some strength training. All I wanted was for him/her to just hand me a program and let me go on my merry way. But that was not to be. Oh no. They want to get to know you and weasel you into a training program. So along the way they did some evaluation - weight, blood pressure, measurement of different parts of the body, bicep strength, squats, and pushups. I knew that I was in better shape than I have ever been before but I had no idea how that would play out in a numbers game. My numbers kept coming up in the physically fit category and bordering on an athlete. I have never thought of myself as an athlete so the term just made me giggle. But when the measurement of my body fat came out at 19% I stood up and took notice. And for my final smile of the night, the trainer informed me that my athletic age is not my chronological 58 but rather 54. How about that? A few months of run/walking and I just gained 4 years. Awesome!
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Last Weekend Continued: The Healdsburg Half
Last weekend was not only my dream come true of riding in a hot air balloon over the vineyards of Sonoma County but it was also the culmination of 7 months of training to run a half marathon. This is something that last March was simply not in my wildest dreams or even a remote possibility. Back then I was only working towards running a 5K. Back then I was also on anti-inflammatory drugs just so I could walk around the house. Enter the most amazing chiropractor ever and my first experience with my body saying NO to my head. Over the past few months, I have learned to listen to people who know more than I do as well as the little flinches and throbs of my back, hip and thighs. Somehow I have gone from running 3 miles to 13 miles. Now I am still not all out running but there is definitely more running than walking going on!
The selection of Healdsburg was merely by chance. My original plan was the San Jose Rock and Roll Half marathon, because a) it's flat and b) I've walked it before and knew if worse came to worst I could at least finish it walking. But it didn't quite fit the training schedule because of our early October cousins' trip to Santa Cruz. So when I did my search and found a half that was in my favorite town of northern California and also served wine afterwards I was in!
My only concern was the "rolling hills" they briefly mentioned on the web site. I don't do hills and I didn't do any training on them unless you count walking The Dish at Stanford a few times. I drove the course the night before and was appalled. There weren't a lot of them but there were definitely more hills than I had ever run before. I resigned myself to giving up any thought of a new record or even keeping a 12 minute pace.
The next morning in typical Tere-style, my brain argued with itself about what was possible and what was a "good" idea. So by the time I reached the start line I knew exactly what was about to happened. I started off ready to walk the first quarter to half mile and slowly get into my regular pace for as long as I could. I would walk the hills and run in the last mile or so hoping to stay close to a 12 minute pace. I started off walking but it didn't last long. As those around me started running so did I. I was surrounded by fog and loved it. I started my run and my mind roamed about as it always does. The first 2 miles were very emotional for me; I'm still not sure why. Part of it I know was total disbelief that I was actually pulling it off. But I think most of it was because Maria, knowing the thumps and bumps along the way had come to see me cross the finish line. Not only her, but Bill and the kids too. This was a huge sacrifice for them and I knew exactly how challenging it had been.
The miles slipped by and I took the hills in stride. My pace was steady and consistent. Around about mile 8 there was a pain I had never felt before making itself known to me. As the intensity grew, the gnawing in the back of my mind went from questioning the cause to what I should do about it. Nothing was making a difference I tried several times to stop and stretch it out. That relieved it for about 4 or 5 strides and then it was back again. I tried walking it out. No difference there either. So my choice was to throw in the towel or somehow make it to the finish line. I sucked it up and prayed I wasn't doing anything stupid, put my head down and walked/ran my way to the finish line. From mile 10 to 13 there was a lot of cursing going on under my breath but somehow I kept plodding along. There is nothing in the world that could have prepared me for the last half mile. I was absolutely overjoyed to be finishing the race and gave it everything that I had left Crossing the finish line, I would swear I saw myself from behind. Within minutes I saw Maria walk by with Callie and in that instant my joy was complete! I had done it and I overflowed with pride, gratitude for everyone who had gotten me there, and an unimaginable depth of love for Maria, Bill, Callie, and Lucia for being there to share in that moment. It was a moment that will never be repeated and can never be adequately described in words. Perhaps the picture below will help. I still find it difficult to believe that it happened but pictures don't lie; they only stop time.
My recovery is complete and I am getting mentally ready to do it again. Monterey, here I come!
The selection of Healdsburg was merely by chance. My original plan was the San Jose Rock and Roll Half marathon, because a) it's flat and b) I've walked it before and knew if worse came to worst I could at least finish it walking. But it didn't quite fit the training schedule because of our early October cousins' trip to Santa Cruz. So when I did my search and found a half that was in my favorite town of northern California and also served wine afterwards I was in!
My only concern was the "rolling hills" they briefly mentioned on the web site. I don't do hills and I didn't do any training on them unless you count walking The Dish at Stanford a few times. I drove the course the night before and was appalled. There weren't a lot of them but there were definitely more hills than I had ever run before. I resigned myself to giving up any thought of a new record or even keeping a 12 minute pace.
The next morning in typical Tere-style, my brain argued with itself about what was possible and what was a "good" idea. So by the time I reached the start line I knew exactly what was about to happened. I started off ready to walk the first quarter to half mile and slowly get into my regular pace for as long as I could. I would walk the hills and run in the last mile or so hoping to stay close to a 12 minute pace. I started off walking but it didn't last long. As those around me started running so did I. I was surrounded by fog and loved it. I started my run and my mind roamed about as it always does. The first 2 miles were very emotional for me; I'm still not sure why. Part of it I know was total disbelief that I was actually pulling it off. But I think most of it was because Maria, knowing the thumps and bumps along the way had come to see me cross the finish line. Not only her, but Bill and the kids too. This was a huge sacrifice for them and I knew exactly how challenging it had been.
The miles slipped by and I took the hills in stride. My pace was steady and consistent. Around about mile 8 there was a pain I had never felt before making itself known to me. As the intensity grew, the gnawing in the back of my mind went from questioning the cause to what I should do about it. Nothing was making a difference I tried several times to stop and stretch it out. That relieved it for about 4 or 5 strides and then it was back again. I tried walking it out. No difference there either. So my choice was to throw in the towel or somehow make it to the finish line. I sucked it up and prayed I wasn't doing anything stupid, put my head down and walked/ran my way to the finish line. From mile 10 to 13 there was a lot of cursing going on under my breath but somehow I kept plodding along. There is nothing in the world that could have prepared me for the last half mile. I was absolutely overjoyed to be finishing the race and gave it everything that I had left Crossing the finish line, I would swear I saw myself from behind. Within minutes I saw Maria walk by with Callie and in that instant my joy was complete! I had done it and I overflowed with pride, gratitude for everyone who had gotten me there, and an unimaginable depth of love for Maria, Bill, Callie, and Lucia for being there to share in that moment. It was a moment that will never be repeated and can never be adequately described in words. Perhaps the picture below will help. I still find it difficult to believe that it happened but pictures don't lie; they only stop time.
My recovery is complete and I am getting mentally ready to do it again. Monterey, here I come!
Life List: Hot Air Balloon Ride
This item on the life list is most likely the thing that started it all. A little more than 18 years ago I had the notion that I would like to celebrate my 40th birthday by riding in a hot air balloon with my family. There was only one problem; no one in my family was willing to join me. So for the past 18 years it has been both a point of sadness and a dream. Well, it seems that my children did not forget. My son and his girlfriend purchased a groupon thing for a hot air balloon ride in Santa Rosa for my birthday. A couple things happened and the universe moved things in alignment so I would just happen to be in the Santa Rosa area this past weekend. That is a separate post to come!
The balloon ride was absolutely everything that I thought it would be - quiet, peaceful, that sensation of floating in air. But this little venture had an added bonus. The company included every aspect of ballooning in the package. We were there, and could be a part of it all from beginning to end. We watched them inflate the balloon and heat the air, tip the basket up and launch it. We also saw how the balloon was deflated and packed away for the next day. I don't know if everyone would want that included in their hot air balloon ride, but for me, who had waited so long for this to happen, it was an added bonus.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Life List: Thighs
Officially, here is the item on the list, Look in the mirror with my fitness pants on and not see the side bulge at the top of my thighs.
This is difficult to gauge or measure but I'm calling it done! As I move my hands down the side of my body from my waist, it goes in a straight line. Point #2: I am willing to wear compression fitness pants in public. Yep. That's a done deal.
This is difficult to gauge or measure but I'm calling it done! As I move my hands down the side of my body from my waist, it goes in a straight line. Point #2: I am willing to wear compression fitness pants in public. Yep. That's a done deal.
Monday, August 20, 2012
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Life List: Walk the Golden Gate Bridge
 | |||
| On the way...the beauty of fog on the hills along 280 |
 |
| Ready to walk |
 |
| Heading through the first tower |
 |
| Happy me! |
 | |
| Coming through the north tower |
 |
| Love the daddy/daughter icon |
 |
| Heading back |
 |
| View of the Marin headlands |
 |
| Starting to clear... |
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Pain in the Silence
Silence is golden. Most of the time I would agree with that old adage. Silence brings a peacefulness that allows your mind to wander and think great thoughts. But when silence takes over where there once was noise, there is an awkwardness in the air, one that only time will heal. I went through this feeling several months ago when Jack became ill. Coming home to an empty house took me weeks to get over. Now it seems I am also to become the owner of an empty yard as well. In the past 2 weeks I have lost all 3 of my hens. The quiet seems to be everywhere. I entered into raising chickens with the knowledge that all kinds of things could take them out - raccoons, opossums, disease. They gave me 2+ years of fun - watching them grow from chicks to pullets to hens, laying eggs first in the laying boxes but then what turned into our daily egg hunts, feeding and watering them became one of our daily pleasures with the day care kids. I will miss the girls but mostly their clucking and waddling out to greet us as we came through the gate. Today the emptiness hit me like a ton of bricks. As I was raking up the wayward feathers there was a deadly silence interrupted only by the scratches of the squirrels scurrying up the redwoods. So that's what is left of "Grandma's farm." But, fear not, the chickens will be replaced next week. 3 more baby chicks have been ordered and should arrive on Tuesday. However, I'm not sure this group will be named. For one thing, it's too hard to tell them apart and for another the next time I have to say good-bye to an animal I'd rather not call it by name.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)