Category Archives: Gratitude/Thanksgiving

My gratitude list for 2023

Posted on by
36

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good. – 1 Chronicles 16:34

Each year I like to celebrate Thanksgiving by reviewing my blessings.

No two ways about it – this has been a tough year. It started with a cancer diagnosis for Pete and a heart attack for me, followed by a string of hospitalizations and an exhausting trek through a convoluted health care system. And I’ve said this before: I’m not sure we’re expected to be grateful for affliction – after all, I’m not a masochist.

But I certainly am grateful for the people God has put in our lives to help us through the scary stuff. Family, friends, our spiritual community, dedicated health care professionals and even total strangers have come through for us in a very big way.

So here’s my gratitude list for the bright spots in 2023:

My amazing husband. This man has topped my gratitude list every single day since I first met him. But this year, Pete’s extraordinary strength and courage continually inspired me as he plowed through chemotherapy, then major surgery, then several hospitalizations due to infections and other complications, and finally, immunotherapy treatments. On top of all this, he’s been my faithful “therapy skunk” as I’ve navigated my own medical journey. To say that I love him to the ends of the universe and back would be a huge understatement. He’s my personal hero, and I am grateful for each and every day I get to have with him.

Our family and friends. We are both beyond grateful for the mountain of get-well wishes and prayers, the delicious meals sent to our house when we didn’t feel like cooking, the offers to assist with transportation and other needs, the cat photos and baby goat videos and bad puns posted to our Facebook pages to cheer us up, and the many other things our wonderful family members and friends have done to help us feel supported and loved as we’ve moved through our recent crises. The steady stream of prayers, cards and visits helped more than people know!

Our little cat. My life has been graced with some fine cats, dating back to earliest childhood: Mewlinda and Bianca, Torbjorn and Angie, Oley and The Champ. They have been cuddly, entertaining, delightfully ornery and endlessly adorable. These sweet fur babies have curled up next to me while I slept, sat in my lap while I worked at my desk, soothed me when I was distressed, and loved me unconditionally. This past year, I’ve taken to calling Champie our furry little comforter. He kept my husband company and rubbed noses with him as Pete was recuperating from his surgery and hospital stays. He cuddled up with me on those lonely nights when Pete was in the hospital and I had to sleep alone at home. Even at the ripe old age of 17, he continues to be his sweet, ornery, adorable little self.

Our spiritual community. We belong to a congregation where people actually try to live out the values they profess. The folks who participate in our church’s Sundays@6 adult faith formation group have engaged in some great discussions. The Dominican Sisters in our community have enveloped us in prayer and provided us with spiritual direction, while our fellow participants in the anti-racism task force have taught us much. My fellow bloggers have shared their faith stories and offered prayers.

Our home. Our beautiful dream house has a cozy fireplace I can sit next to during my morning  or evening meditation sessions, a sunroom, an eat-in kitchen, a piano, office space for each of us and plentiful storage and closet space. Our yard overflows with flower beds. We live in a lovely neighborhood with a bike path leading to a nearby park and botanical garden. Our sunroom and backyard deck have helped us entertain numerous visitors this year.

Delivery services and essential workers. Being able to order food and groceries and have them delivered to our front door was a Godsend during those weeks when we had health care appointments every day of the week, when we were too exhausted to cook or go grocery shopping and Pete was too immunocompromised for us to even think about eating out at restaurants. Our fabulous cleaning ladies and the lawn care people have kept me from being completely overwhelmed as we juggle medical appointments, infusions, cardiac rehab therapy and other commitments. When our house is clean and our yardwork under control, my life itself begins to feel like it’s under better control.

Our medical team. As exasperating as our health care system can be to navigate, we’ve been blessed with competent and dedicated health care professionals, from Pete’s oncologist and my heart specialists to the overnight nursing staff who helped keep Pete and me comfortable during hospital stays. And we mustn’t forget to mention the amazing staff at the Simmons Cancer Institute’s infusion center, the folks at the cardiac rehab center, and the home health team who came to our house throughout the late winter, spring and early summer.

Technology. Despite all the hype about the societal dangers of social media and other technological advances, tech has been a lifeline to Pete and me. We’re able to “attend” Sunday services and church committee meetings even when hospitalized or homebound. We’ve been able to visit family members and friends, and have sessions with our spiritual directors online. We’ve even been able to have Zoom appointments with doctors and other health care professionals, saving us countless commutes and hours spent in waiting rooms.

Relative financial security. Having supplemental health insurance along with our Medicare means we don’t have to worry about how to cover all those medical bills – which would probably surpass the price of a nice-sized house this year – because our out-of-pocket expenses have been minimal. Being able to afford someone to clean our house and mow our grass has also made my life exponentially easier, especially with my time taken up by so many medical details.

The great outdoors. No matter which season we’re in, I love the wildlife that populates our backyard – the rabbits and squirrels, birds and butterflies and bees. Whether I’m feeding the critters, admiring our flowers, snapping photos of flora and fauna at the park or strolling through our neighborhood, experiencing God’s creation with all my senses ranks as one of my favorite activities. As I’ve said numerous times, I find it almost impossible to deny God’s existence when I’m outdoors with the evidence all around me. 

Ordinary days. If this year has taught me nothing else, it’s taught me to appreciate the “boring” days I used to take for granted. Sometimes there’s nothing more wonderful than an uneventful day. No distressing symptoms. No rides to the emergency room in the back of an ambulance. No test results with nasty surprises. Just laundry, vacuuming, groceries and other soothingly routine activities. I never thought I’d learn to appreciate plain, ordinary days so much. When God treats me to one of these days lately, Psalm 118:24 comes to mind: This is the day which the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.

Being alive. God has granted Pete and me another year, as wild as it’s been. While many folks complain about aging (and I must admit I do this myself from time to time), today I choose to be grateful I’ve been allowed to grow old. Especially after surviving a heart attack.

For all of this, God, I thank you.

Here’s hoping everyone has a safe and happy Thanksgiving!

Blessings,

Love never fails

Posted on by
60

Thirty-eight years ago today, I married my best friend.

We met at work, where I plotted to make sure my cute new colleague’s desk was placed next to mine. The scheme worked. Before long, we were doing lunch together, then hanging out after work, then introducing each other to our respective families. Besides being handsome, he was charming and witty. I was smitten.

When we vowed to take each other for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, we embarked on a journey. And what an amazing journey it’s been!

Pete and I have been lucky to experience lots of the “better” over the years – good times with wonderful friends, successful careers, a beautiful home, amazing vacations. We’ve also weathered our share of the “worse” – workplace drama, health problems, the loss of loved ones – and survived stronger than ever.

In our early days we were “poorer than church mice,” as the saying goes. Since we both worked for small faith-based not-for-profit organizations, we were fond of joking, “Actually, we are church mice!” But while we were never filthy rich, we’ve always had enough.

Like a gazillion other couples before us, Pete and I chose 1 Corinthians 13 as a reading for our wedding. And the more anniversaries we’ve celebrated, the more I’ve come to appreciate the standards this Biblical passage sets for the kind of love that makes a marriage last.

Love is patient. Pete’s taste in clothes and home decor is strictly “plain vanilla,” while mine tends toward “hot fudge sundae with a cherry on top.” I love carrots and beets, but detest peas and green beans. Pete thinks peas and green beans are at least okay, but would eat beets only if truly starving. And has anyone ever noticed how compulsive neatniks inevitably wind up with people whose standard of neatness is decidedly more … um … casual? At some point, we figured out these differences were not about right or wrong, but were simply preferences. The way to work out differing preferences was through compromise. And compromise, as we’ve learned over the years, takes considerable patience.

Love is kind. I first fell in love with the man who would go considerably out of his way to give me a ride to work when my car broke down. (I was driving a real lemon in those days, so it was always breaking down.) Little kindnesses have continued to be part of his charm. I still adore the man who serenades me with his dulcimer or harmonica when I’m doing morning meditation in front of the fireplace.

Love does not envy. Pete and I do have a bit of a competitive streak. We’ve been known to laugh as we sing to each other, “Anything you can do, I can do better!” And I’ve always suspected he was secretly charmed by the fact that I wasn’t the kind of girl to let the boys win at checkers. But underneath the friendly competition, we have always supported each other’s career choices. We take genuine pride in each other’s accomplishments.

Love does not boast. If there is one thing our marriage journey has taught us, it’s humility. Part of humility means that sometimes we must give up our insistence that our own way is the only right way to resolve a contentious issue. In fact, there have been times we needed to s-t-r-e-t-c-h our thinking enough to acknowledge that the other person might have a point.

Love does not dishonor others. From the time my sibs and I were old enough to date, our mother warned us to watch how a prospective partner treats other people besides us. Why? Because that’s how this person is going to treat us once the newness wears off the romance. Fortunately, one of the things that impressed me most about my sweetie was how much of a gentleman he was. He has always been unfailingly polite, diplomatic and respectful in his interactions with others, no matter who they are.

Love does not insist on its own way. During a required prenuptial counseling session, the minister who officiated at our wedding said, “I always tell young people they’ll need to compromise more than they’re used to doing.” He turned to his wife of 60 years. “One of the things I learned to do early on was say, ‘yes, dear.’ Isn’t that right?” His wife promptly replied, “Yes, dear.” To this day, Pete and I chuckle at the memory, and have been known to say to each other quite often, “Yes, dear.”

Love is not easily angered. This can be a hard one at times, since we both have a bit of a temper. When I hear a couple claim they never fight, I suspect one of two things is true. Either someone is not being quite honest about their genuine needs, or they’ve been together long enough to work through most of their differences. Luckily, over many years, we’ve gotten pretty good at not pushing each other’s buttons – at least not too hard.

Love keeps no record of wrongs. If we must “have it out” occasionally, we try to avoid “kitchen sink fighting.” (A tactic where one brings up everything, including the kitchen sink, during an argument – as in, “Whose turn is it to do the dishes, anyway?”) And forgiveness is mandatory. Few things sink a relationship faster than holding a grudge. Ephesians 4:26 reminds us, “Don’t let the sun set on your anger.”

Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices in the truth. While we may disagree from time to time about politics, standards of neatness, or which vegetables are tasty and which ones are gross, we thankfully agree on the important things. We’ve shared similar values from the beginning on everything from moral issues to priorities in life to the importance of giving back to the community.

Love always protects. One nice thing about being married to one’s best friend is that we can be relied on to have each other’s back. Pete likes to call me his therapy skunk, and he’s taken his turn playing that role for me as well. As the designated therapy skunk, our job is to accompany each other to doctor appointments, where we provide emotional support, ask the hard questions and insist that medical people take our needs seriously.

Love always trusts. I must admit, trust came a bit hard for both of us at first. We had each been hurt in prior romantic or family-of-origin relationships I can only call “challenging.” We each had to learn not to punish the other for someone else’s failings. I was not the overly demanding parent, and Pete was not the ex with the roving eye.

Love always hopes. Over the past year, Pete and I have both faced life-threatening health conditions. While we’ve gotten amazing support from family, friends and our spiritual community, possibly the one biggest thing we’ve needed is hope. For hope to happen, we’ve had to lean on a health care team we can trust, and more importantly, we’ve had to lean on and trust God to get us through.

Love always perseveres. It’s fairly easy to make a marriage work when we’re experiencing the “better” and the “richer” and the “in health” part of our wedding vows. It’s when we experience the “worse” – the sickness, the loss of loved ones, the COVID pandemic with all its stressors –that the rubber hits the road in a relationship. If the challenges of the past few years have done nothing else, they’ve convinced us of this: We’re an unbeatable team.

Love never fails. One can often hear couples say they love each other more after decades of marriage than they did when they first got together. That’s certainly true for me. After having been through both the “better” and the “worse” together, my love for this amazing man just gets stronger every day. I don’t think I truly understood real love when I was a starry-eyed twenty-something. Of course, I remember with fondness the heady infatuation I felt in the early days of our courtship. But real love? For me, anyway, that’s come with age and maturity. The initial idealization has become a deep connection built on trust, understanding, and a long history of shared experiences. Or, as Pete and I like to say, we had an office romance that grew up.

After 38 years of marriage, Pete is still at the very top of my gratitude list. He’s kind, generous, decent and caring, my best friend, the wind beneath my wings, proof positive that there are good men, and the best thing that ever happened to me. I love that man to the moon and back, and I truly consider him to be a gift from a kind and loving God.

And I pray every day for God to please watch over us and take care of us, because I want us to have many more years together!

Pete rings the bell!

Posted on by
39

This week we reached a major milestone. My husband Pete, who has been undergoing chemotherapy since mid-December, got to ring the bell.

“Ringing the bell” has been a tradition at cancer centers around the country since the 1990s. Cancer patients often ring a ceremonial bell to celebrate the end of their radiation treatments or chemotherapy. 

On our way to the Simmons Cancer Institute on Tuesday morning, we took our usual route. Each time Pete got an infusion — eight in all, each with increasingly difficult side effects — we made a point of driving by the house on MacArthur Boulevard with this sign in their yard.

Pete posed for a photo outside the cancer center where he’s been meeting with his oncologist and getting treatment since October. He will still need to undergo some pretty serious surgery in another month or so (continued prayers appreciated!), but for now, we are celebrating his arrival at the finish line for the chemotherapy portion of his treatment.

These days it seems nearly every cancer facility has a bell that patients can ring to mark the end of treatment. But it’s thought that the tradition began at the MD Anderson Cancer Center at the University of Texas in 1996, when a cancer patient named Irve LeMoyne brought a brass bell to his last treatment, rang it several times and left the bell as a donation.

The bell at Simmons, where Pete got his chemotherapy treatments, is mounted on a wall plaque inside the infusion center.

If one must go through chemotherapy, the infusion center staff goes out of its way to make the experience as bearable as possible. These folks were absolutely the best!

After completing his final infusion session, Pete was awarded a commemorative t-shirt to mark his “graduation” from chemo.

And here he is, ringing the bell. The sheer happiness on his face literally brought tears to my eyes — and such joy!

After the ceremonial ringing of the bell, Pete gave us all an enthusiastic thumbs up.

I have been so impressed and humbled by my dear husband’s persistence in the face of ghastly side effects — nausea, breathlessness, numbing fatigue. I’d say he richly deserved the hearty round of applause he got from the staff.

CONGRATULATIONS to my sweetheart! And thanks be to God for getting us this far.

A prayer of Thanksgiving: So great a cloud of witnesses

Posted on by
15

Dear God,

One of the ways I like to celebrate Thanksgiving is by reviewing my blessings. Most years, this means creating a gratitude list that contains all the usual suspects ― friends and family, our home, our church community, financial security, and so on.

Over the past two and a half years, however, I’ve lost what feels like an unbearably long string of loved ones from various causes – nearly a dozen family members and close friends, a pair of much-admired mentors, a spiritual director, and even one of my beloved cats.

Three years ago, I used this space to thank you, God, for my wonderful parents (link HERE).

This Thanksgiving, I thought I’d use this space to thank you for several more really amazing people, because I am beyond grateful that you chose to put them in my life.

Pete’s cousin John actually seemed more like a brother than a cousin ― he and Pete were in communication with each other nearly every day. They both loved bad puns, good music and friendly arguments about politics. John honored his inner child who still loved trains, which endeared him to his grandkids, and he was a walking encyclopedia on everything about trains. He is pictured above (center) with a couple of his friends at a “live steam” model railroading event.

My Aunt Irene lived in Arizona, so I didn’t get to see her all that often in my adult years, but she and my Uncle Ben were a huge presence in my life when I was growing up. When my uncle died tragically young in a farming accident, leaving her with a business to manage and four children all still at home, she showed the rest of our family what true courage, determination and sheer grit really looked like. She was always an inspiration to me.

Some folks were so much a part of our family when I was growing up, they qualified as “bonus relatives” in our minds. “Bonus Uncle” Jim and “Bonus Aunt” Shirley certainly fit that category. As long-time friends of my Mom and Dad, Jim and Marian and Roger and Shirley were a constant presence during my childhood. And they blessed our lives just as surely as any “blood” relatives could have.

I often referred to our friend Will as “my favorite curmudgeon with a heart of gold.” During the many, many meals Pete and I shared with him and his lovely wife Paula, Will loved to play the cantankerous-old-man role, arguing about everything from politics to religion to musical techniques. He was also generous to a fault, often slipping a homeless person a $20 bill without a second thought.

John and Peg were among the first friends we made when Pete and I moved to central Illinois in 1985. They were writers, editors, teachers and extraordinary mentors to people of all ages, including us. And retirement didn’t slow them down in the least. Into her 80s, Peg was a tireless activist for social justice in our community. At 96, John was working on yet another book and joining our merry band of musicians to play his harmonica.

Jessica was the kind of boss everyone should be blessed to have. She and I worked together for more than a dozen years and her management style would best be described as “tough but fair.” She had clear expectations, but at the same time, showed profound and obvious respect for the dignity of everyone who worked with her. When I went on to become a supervisor myself, Jes was a major influence on my own leadership style.

Our church congregation has lost more than a dozen truly irreplaceable people over the past three years. Among those I was closest to were Jeanie Boo, Gene, Coralie and Lois.

Jeanie (top left) and Gene (top right) were in the choir with Pete and I for nearly 20 years. Gene also lovingly tended the rose garden outside our sanctuary, one of my favorite places to walk and meditate. Jeanie would often tell people, including me, “You’re a gift from God.” How many people besides my mother have ever told me that??

Lois (bottom left) and Coralie (bottom right) did so much to help my mother-in-law feel welcome after she lost her husband of 60 years and moved to central Illinois, where she knew no one except Pete and I. They even took a Bible study class to her nursing home when she could no longer come to church. I will always be grateful to them for their amazing hospitality.

Sister Margaret Therese was my spiritual director for three years prior to her passing in 2020. I met with her monthly for one-hour sessions in which we discussed everything from trying new prayer techniques to eliminating “spiritual clutter” from my life to discerning where God wants to lead me next. What I appreciated most about her was her completely nonjudgmental attitude, something I have tried to emulate in my own relationships with others.

It’s actually been seven years since I lost my bestie Patti, but I still miss her fiercely. She was my co-author of several “best-practices” manuals, a terrific mentor, my BFF and my partner in crime. She was a spellbinding speaker, but she also had a talent for making individual people, including me, feel special and gifted ― a major reason why everyone who knew her loved her.

Hebrews 12:1 talks about the “great cloud of witnesses” ― people who have gone before us, joining the ranks of those gathered before the throne of God:

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us.”

In this “cloud of witnesses” are the people who have given shape to our lives and set an example for us on how to live. They are the folks who have inspired us and cheered us on.

So as I count my blessings this year, I definitely consider these amazing people to be among my personal cloud of witnesses. Thank you God, for blessing me with each one of their lives.

With love and gratitude,

A prayer of thanksgiving for an amazing man

Posted on by
35

Dear God:

Today the love of my life is celebrating a major milestone: He just turned 80 years old.

I definitely consider Pete to be one of your all-time best gifts to me, God, so here is a prayer of thanksgiving for this wonderful human being you sent to me so many years ago.

I’m thankful for his sense of fun, which has kept me entertained and laughing since the early days of our marriage.

Here we are in front of our first home, posing – at his suggestion – as characters in a Grant Wood painting. (Goodness, we were so young and slender then, but I digress.)

His sense of humor has only gotten more entertaining over the years.

A couple years ago, we volunteered to work in the campaign of a local candidate running for Congress, and Pete decided Mr. Lincoln himself needed a campaign button.

Another thing I love about my Sweetie Petey is how well he gets along with our cats. We like to joke that they have him well-trained.

Below is the first cat we had, a yellow “Morris” lookalike named Torbjorn (Norwegian for “Thunder Bear”), who decided Pete made a really good cat bed.

Pete cheerfully allowed our beloved Olaf DaVinci to photo bomb as I snapped a picture of him playing his dulcimer. This is still his profile pic on Facebook.

He even lets our Champie Cat wash his face.

Before retiring, he was an English and journalism professor at our local Catholic university and his students loved him almost as much as the cats and I do.

One of his artist students would sit in class and draw humorous portraits of him that captured his personality exceptionally well. This drawing made it onto the 10th anniversary cover of The Sleepy Weasel, the college’s literary magazine for which Pete was an advisor.

Since we retired, one of our favorite activities has been traveling. We’ve been to Alaska several times, plus Ireland, Germany, Sweden, Denmark, Norway, Israel and Palestine.

Here he is, in front of a pretty little bridge in Uppsala, Sweden.

He is a fine musician who loves collecting instruments. I’ve been known to ask, “Do we really need another instrument?” (There wasn’t enough room in our luggage for a new one from a shop we visited in Ireland, below.)

But Pete’s hobby does have a definite upside. How many wives get to be serenaded with dulcimer tunes while doing evening meditation in front of the fireplace?

One of the things I’ve admired about Pete for years is his enviable ability to speak and perform in front of a group.

Here, he is giving a presentation at Jenny Lind Chapel in Andover, Illinois about the psalmodikon, a single-stringed instrument developed in Scandinavia for simplifying sacred music in churches that didn’t have pianos or organs.

He also loves historical research and his writing has been published in several academic journals. Link HERE for an excerpt from the article below that appeared in the May-June 2015 issue of Illinois Heritage magazine.

He’s fond of calling himself an “old dog,” but he’s still open to learning new tricks. He managed to give a presentation for a history conference via Zoom during the pandemic.

Note the cute ponytail that was visible to my camera but not to the audience “attending” the conference.

Always up for a challenge, he helped me make a few videos for our congregation’s online church services during the pandemic.

Here, we are shouting “Hallelujah!” as we wave palm branches in front of my computer’s camera for a Palm Sunday service.

Good sport that he is, he’s agreed more than once to be drafted at the last minute to participate in our congregation’s annual Christmas pageant. Doesn’t he make a great Wise Guy?

One of my favorite photos of my handsome gentleman was taken in early 2020 at Barnes & Noble Bookstore, where we met with friends for Starbucks coffee and pastries just before the pandemic came along and locked everything down.

If I must be stranded on a desert island (or in my home during a months-long quarantine), I can’t think of a better person to be marooned with.

After 37 years of marriage, Pete is still at the very top of my gratitude list. He’s kind, generous, decent and caring, my best friend, the wind beneath my wings, proof positive that there are good men, and the best thing that ever happened to me.

I love that man to the moon and back.

Please watch over him and take care of him, because I want us to have many more years together!

With love and gratitude,

My gratitude list for 2021

Posted on by
16

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his steadfast love endures forever.
– 1 Chronicles 16:34

Each year I like to celebrate Thanksgiving by reviewing my blessings. This year, I have even more reason than usual for gratitude.

My husband and I survived a major scare that began in October with a trip to the emergency room. Pete’s heart had been racing 130 beats a minute for several hours, he had pneumonia, and to top it off, a CT scan showed a quarter-size mass on one lung, which the doctors seemed convinced was cancer. He was admitted to the hospital for a cardiac ablation, a PET scan, a biopsy and treatment for his pneumonia.

For two agonizing weeks, I pleaded with God. After 36 years of marriage, my husband is still at the very top of my gratitude list. He’s kind, generous, decent and caring, my best friend, the wind beneath my wings, proof positive that there are good men, and the best thing that ever happened to me. If I must be stranded on a desert island (or in my home during a months-long quarantine, which sort of feels like the same thing), I can’t think of a better person to be marooned with. I love that man to the moon and back!

Our prayers were answered. The mass on his lung turned out not to be malignant – HALLELUJAH!!!!!!!! – and the ablation procedure went without a hitch. His pneumonia is slowly healing.

Just as we were catching our breath from that crisis, we got to take another trip to the emergency room – for me this time. As I rode in the ambulance, the pain in the lower right side of my abdomen was so excruciating, I was sure I was dealing with a ruptured appendix. Luckily the problem turned out to be a kidney stone that passed while I was in the ER, and the pain dissipated as quickly as it had come on.

I’m not sure God expects us to be grateful for affliction. However, I’m certainly grateful for the people God puts in our lives to help us through the scary stuff. The friends, family members, church people and total strangers who prayed for us, along with the steady stream of calls, get well-cards, Facebook messages and even bad puns helped us more than people could possibly know!

While the pandemic continues to upend our lives in a variety of ways, I have plenty of other things to be grateful for this year as well:

My family. I have sisters and cousins who double as friends, along with wonderful nieces and nephews. Perhaps it’s our increasing awareness of life’s fragility, but we’ve all made a greater-than-usual effort to stay connected this past couple of years, even when we couldn’t get together in person.

Our kitties. My life has been graced with some fine cats, dating back to earliest childhood. Oley and Champie are cuddly, entertaining, delightfully ornery and endlessly adorable. These sweet fur babies curl up next to me while I sleep, sit in my lap while I work at my desk, comfort me when I’m distressed, and love me unconditionally.  

Good friends, past and present. These irreplaceable people know my quirks and flaws and continue to stick around anyway.

Our church community. Our church has been a lifeline for us during the pandemic, with its live-streamed services and its Bible studies, book group and committee meetings all accessible via Zoom. We are especially grateful to the dedicated team of volunteers who quickly learned the technology necessary to make these virtual connections happen.

Other spiritual support. This month, Pete and I resumed our spiritual direction journey with a colleague of our beloved Sister M, who was our spiritual director prior to her death in 2020.

Zoom and FaceTime. These amazing technologies have helped us stay connected with family, friends, our church community and the rest of the outside world – even doctors – in spite of the pandemic. What a gift.

Essential workers. Thank God for the people who deliver our groceries, provide our health care and otherwise make sure we have what we need. These amazing people continuously remind me that our own ability to shelter in place and stay safe has actually been a privilege, not something to gripe about. And those essential workers – from doctors to CNAs – who helped nurse Pete back to health last month deserve a medal.

Our dream house. We have a cozy fireplace to sit next to during morning and evening meditation, a sunroom filled with plants, a large eat-in kitchen, office space for each of us, a yard filled with flower beds and a lovely neighborhood. 

Financial security. A secure source of retirement income means we can afford supplemental health insurance along with our Medicare, and we don’t have to worry about how we’re going to pay all those hospital bills. Being able to hire someone to mow our grass has certainly made my life easier as well.

Mother Nature in all her majesty. No matter which season we’re in, I love the wildlife that populates our backyard – the birds, squirrels, rabbits and butterflies. This year, a real highlight was getting to host a half dozen monarch caterpillars on the milkweed I planted.

Being alive. God has granted me another year. While many folks complain about aging (and I must admit I do this myself from time to time), today I choose to be grateful I’ve been able to grow old. Especially after the adventures of the past couple of years.

For all of this, God, I thank you.

And so, I resolve to keep reminding myself each day: Today is the day our Creator has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.

Here’s hoping everyone has a safe and happy Thanksgiving!

Blessings,

My gratitude list for 2020

Posted on by
12

One of the ways I like to celebrate Thanksgiving is by reviewing my blessings. So … time to create my annual gratitude list. 

First, I’ve got to be honest. To say this past year has been unsettling would be a huge understatement. The pandemic has upended every familiar activity and routine in my life. Visits with family and friends – cancelled until further notice. Dulcimer group – cancelled until further notice. Choir practice – cancelled until further notice. Stay Fit classes – cancelled until further notice. Groceries – delivered to our home. Church, Bible study, book group and even some doctor appointments – all online. 

Then there’s the stress. My husband and I are considered to be in a “high risk” group because of our age and underlying medical conditions, which means we’ve been staying home since March. As the number of COVID-19 cases has skyrocketed in our community this fall, my anxiety level has risen along with the numbers. 

And yet I do have plenty to be grateful for this year:

My husband. As usual, Pete tops my gratitude list. If I must be stranded on a desert island (or in my home during a months-long quarantine, which sort of feels like the same thing), I can’t think of a better person to be marooned with than my sweetie pie of 35 years. I love that man to the moon and back!

Our kitties. Oley and Champaign have provided their usual wonderful companionship during this shelter-in-place ordeal. They’re cuddly, entertaining, delightfully ornery and endlessly adorable. They make isolation much more bearable.

Family and friends. Perhaps it’s our increasing awareness of life’s fragility, but it seems like we’ve all made a greater-than-usual effort to stay connected this year, even if we can’t get together in person. I’m not sure God expects me to be grateful for affliction – after all, I’m not a masochist. However, I’m certainly grateful for the people God puts in our lives to help us through the scary stuff.

Our church. Although our building has been closed for all but a few weeks since Lent, our congregation has been able to “attend” church online every Sunday, thanks to a dedicated team of volunteers who quickly learned the technology necessary to make our virtual services happen. We’ve also been able to participate in weekly Bible study and book group meetings via Zoom. And our community service committee has developed several creative ways for us to help people in need in the larger community.

Our spiritual director. For three years, prior to her death this fall, our beloved Sister M helped Pete and me with our spiritual development. She listened to my litany of doubts about everything from denominational dogma to God’s existence itself without negative judgment – at least none that I could detect. She was patient as I grappled with questions some would say I shouldn’t even be asking. 

Zoom and FaceTime. These amazing technologies have helped us stay connected with family, friends, our church community and the rest of the outside world in spite of our quarantine. What a gift!

My health. I’ve absolutely stopped taking my health for granted, especially during a year like this one. Because the lockdown has forced us to cook all our meals at home instead of eating out all the time, we are actually eating much healthier these days. 

Our home. If we must shelter in place for months on end, at least Pete and I have a beautiful home to do it in. The large eat-in kitchen, the fireplace I sit next to during my morning meditation, a sunroom filled with plants, and the flower beds in my backyard add up to a perfect sanctuary for our little quarantine team.

Financial security. I’m so grateful Pete and I are both retired and have a secure source of retirement income. This means that, unlike so many others, we haven’t had to worry about losing a job or a business during this pandemic. Nor do we have to go to work and risk exposing ourselves to a potentially deadly virus on a daily basis. 

Essential workers. Thank God for the people who deliver our groceries, provide our health care and otherwise make sure we all have what we need. These amazing generous people continuously remind me that being able to shelter in place and stay safe is actually a privilege, not something to gripe about.

Being alive. God has granted me another year. While many folks complain about aging (and I must admit I do this myself from time to time), today I choose to be grateful I’ve been able to grow old. Especially after the adventures of the past year.

And last but not least … our scientists. A VACCINE IS COMING!!! This quarantine won’t last forever. There really is an end in sight.

For all of this, God, I thank you.

And so, I resolve to keep reminding myself each day: Today is the day our Creator has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it!

Here’s hoping everyone has a safe and happy Thanksgiving!

Blessings,

A prayer of thanksgiving

Posted on by
13

Dear God,

In Exodus 20:12 and again in Deuteronomy 5:16, you gave us the following commandment: “Honor thy father and thy mother.” 

Fortunately, you blessed me with parents who made following that commandment easy. My life has turned out pretty wonderful. I have been blessed with a good marriage, a successful career and good friends. I owe that in no small part to having a good upbringing by parents who were loved and respected by the entire community. 

But this holiday season is the first that I will be facing without either Mom or Dad, except in my memories. So I’d like to take the time this Thanksgiving to offer thanks for their lives.

As a child with disability issues, I had problems in school, especially with other kids. In those days, diversity was NOT considered beautiful, and I was bullied pretty relentlessly. Compounding the problem was the fact that there were no good services 50-60 years ago – no IDEA, no Individualized Education Plans. Parents and their special-needs kids were pretty much on their own, and my parents just had to do the best they could without the help parents and kids can take for granted today. Despite these obstacles, they raised an honor student who graduated in the top 10 percent of her class.

It’s amazing how a small gesture can change a person’s life. When I was in junior high school, and didn’t have much belief in my abilities, I showed Mom a poem I had written. Without telling me, she sent a copy of the poem to Carol Burnett and it wound up getting published in a book. Then Mom gave me a typewriter, even though it wasn’t my birthday or Christmas or anything, and said, “You could be a famous writer someday.” Okay, so maybe the “famous” part didn’t happen, but I did grow up to be a successful professional writer. I even managed to win some writing and journalism awards. And it started with someone believing in me and telling me I had talent.

I appreciated my parents’ sense of humor when conveying life’s lessons to my sisters and me. Instead of lecturing us extensively about the need to avoid peer pressure, they’d simply say, “If 10 of your friends jumped off the top of the Empire State Building, would you do it too?” Once when I was complaining about a mean boss, Dad said, “You know, you can learn as much from a bad example as you can from a good one.” I took that advice to heart, actually, as I progressed through my career. When I became a boss myself, I thought about the bosses I’d liked, and analyzed what they did right. But I also learned a lot about what not to do from the bosses I didn’t like so well.

Mom and Dad took just about the right approach when I ran into problems. If I found myself in a situation that really and truly wasn’t fair, they were my best allies, and more than once they went to school to help me straighten out misunderstandings with one teacher or another. But if I got into trouble and was guilty as charged, they allowed me to experience the consequences rather than bailing me out the way some parents would. I can still remember when I got into a water fight with a classmate in the home-ec room, and our punishment was staying after school for 10 afternoons to clean ovens. When I complained that the punishment seemed excessive, I didn’t get much sympathy, but was told, “The exercise will do you good.” 

But perhaps the best gift they gave me was their example. 

My parents showed me what a good marriage looks like. I’ve now been blessed for 34 years with the kind of marriage they had, and I know it is possible to have a relationship with someone who loves and respects me and treats me well.

They showed me how to overcome adversity. I was not a happy camper when I got diagnosed with diabetes. But Mom had it for 60 years, and showed me how to live with the condition and accept the dietary restrictions with good grace.

They showed me it was possible to disagree without being disagreeable. One of my favorite memories was of Dad and his brothers arguing about politics, for two or three hours at a time. But they’d all be smiling while they argued, and they’d still be smiling when they got done.

Mom and Dad taught me to be generous and to give back to our community and they walked the talk. Whether it was serving on the school board, teaching Sunday School, or donating $1,000 to help a family at church, both parents were generous with their time and money. Helping others has been a big part of both my career and my volunteer work, and I learned that value from my parents. 

Their generosity has extended to hospitality. Pete and I are both grateful for how nice my parents were to my mother-in-law, making her feel like part of the family after her husband died. They made sure she felt welcome and loved.

And the community loved my parents back. During their funerals and visitations, I was blown away by the outpouring of love and respect from everyone who knew Mom and Dad. Literally hundreds of people lined up to tell my sisters and I what our parents meant to them. Here are just a few examples of the comments:

“Sweetest lady ever!”

“He’d give the shirt off his back.”

“So special, kind and caring.”

“Always so nice to everyone.”

“They changed my life.”

Finally, my parents taught me by example to count my blessings. On my 50thbirthday, I remember joking, “Now that I’m finally mature enough to listen to my elders and believe them, what advice would you pass on? If you had one thing you could do differently, what would it be?” I remember Dad, who was 75 at the time, saying, “I wouldn’t change a thing.” I only hope I can say the same thing when I’m 75. 

So now I try to remember to count my own blessings, and I definitely count my parents to be among those blessings.

With love and gratitude,

My Gratitude List for 2019

Posted on by
13

In everything give thanks, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you. – 1 Thessalonians 5:18 

It’s November, which means it’s time for me to make my annual Thanksgiving Gratitude List. 

I’m tempted to say this year has been a ring-tailed monster. It began with both me and my little cat being diagnosed with diabetes, followed by a stint in the ICU with massive internal bleeding caused by my blood-thinning medication. My beloved mother was placed in hospice care in May and passed away in September. Then came two more trips to the hospital for me in the fall – first for gallbladder surgery and three weeks later for more testing after I developed complications.

And yet I do have plenty to be grateful for this year:

My husband. He’s been my absolute rock this past year as I went through three hospitalizations and the loss of my mother. I love that man to the moon and back!

My parents. During Mom’s visitation and funeral (and Dad’s a few years ago), I was awestruck to realize how many people loved my parents and to hear story after story about their generosity in the community.

My family. Having sisters really helps when one goes through the grieving process. Even though the occasion was sad, I also got to visit with a number of cousins I haven’t seen in years. And I can’t begin to express enough gratitude for the amazing team of women who cared for Mom during her final months! They became like family as well.

Good friends, our church community and other supportive people. I’m not sure we’re expected to be grateful for affliction – after all, I’m not a masochist. But I’m certainly grateful for the people God puts in our lives to help us through the sad and scary stuff – the friends, family, church people and total strangers who prayed for us this year. The steady stream of get well-cards and sympathy cards and visits helped more than people know!

Our kitties. I’m learning to count each day with Oley and Champaign as a blessing, now that both have been diagnosed with health problems. And I’ve decided whoever invented pill pockets deserves a Nobel Peace Prize.

My health. I’ve absolutely stopped taking my health for granted. I’m committed to practicing better self-care and am grateful for the Stay Fit exercise program at our local hospital, not to mention the existence of fat-free cream cheese, sugar-free peanut butter cups, the buffets full of delectable vegetable dishes at our two local Indian restaurants and other little things that make sticking to a healthy eating plan (slightly) easier.

Our home. The fireplace I sit next to during my morning meditation and the flower beds in my backyard offer a perfect balm during all the days I’ve spent healing.

Financial security. I’m grateful we can afford health insurance, which means I don’t have to worry about how I’m going to pay all those medical bills. Being able to hire someone to clean our house and mow our grass has certainly made my life easier, especially since my time was taken up with the job of healing from surgery and making frequent six-hour round trips to my parents’ farm.

Being alive. God has granted me another year. While many folks complain about aging (and I must admit I do this myself from time to time), today I choose to be grateful I’ve been able to grow old. Especially after the adventures of the past year.

And last but not least … SPRING IS COMING in 125 days!!!

For all of this, God, I thank you.

And so, I resolve to keep reminding myself each day: Today is the day our Creator has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it!

Here’s hoping everyone has a safe and happy Thanksgiving!

Blessings,

Gratitude, Part 2

Posted on by
13

Over Thanksgiving weekend, my husband Pete and I went to North Carolina for a long-anticipated visit with some favorite cousins who live near Asheville. Two previous attempts to visit had been foiled – the first time by wildfires burning in the area, and the second time by illness. Maybe, we hoped, the third attempt would be the proverbial charm.

The photo above was taken just as we entered Tennessee. Yes, the sign below points to the “Rocky Top” of bluegrass and country music fame. The town of Rocky Top is just down the road a piece from Pete’s hometown of Norris in the eastern part of the state.

We stopped at a bluff overlooking Norris Dam, one of Pete’s favorite places. From this location, one can observe breathtaking scenery. On the day after Thanksgiving, the mountains were covered with trees still hanging onto their blazing multicolor fall leaves. I got to shoot several photos of the beloved Smokies. So far, so good. We were only a couple hours from our destination.

Then we ate supper at one of our favorite restaurants in the area, and dropped in at a Walgreens pharmacy to check my blood pressure. I had experienced a brief A-fib episode earlier in the day and was still feeling a little bit “off.” Among other things, a blood pressure monitor can detect an irregular heartbeat and I wanted to make sure my heart rate had stabilized. Alas, my blood pressure had skyrocketed and I was promptly sent to the emergency room.

I expected the ER folks would give me some medication to bring my blood pressure under control quickly, then release me. This was the treatment usually offered by my regular doctor at home. Instead, they admitted me to the hospital for an overnight stay and more tests. Needless to say, being in a hospital 500 miles from home was not part of our vacation plans and I began to feel downright surly, especially when there seemed to be no guarantee I would be released the following day either.

We relayed the news of our “detour” to Pete’s cousins. They immediately offered to come visit us at the hospital in Knoxville. Since this visit involved a two-hour drive for them, I resisted the offer at first. But Pete pointed out that a visit from the cousins might possibly set Murphy’s Law in reverse.

So John and Anne, Lise and Nate made the two-hour drive. And sure enough, Murphy’s Law-in-Reverse was activated. No sooner had we posed for the photo below (that’s me in the hospital gown worn over a pair of jeans), the doctor came in and announced that the tests were normal and I was free to leave.

So on we went to North Carolina, where we stayed in a hotel room at the Lake Junaluska Conference and Retreat Center, a beautiful resort tucked into the Blue Ridge Mountains. The mission of the conference center, owned by the United Methodist Church, is “to be a place of Christian hospitality where lives are transformed through renewal of soul, mind and body.”

The folks at the conference center seemed to practice Christian charity as well as hospitality. Although we called after 7 p.m. to let them know we wouldn’t be coming the first night of our reservation (way past the deadline for a cancellation), when they heard my story, they didn’t charge us for that night. My husband and I have stayed at the conference center several times now, and love the place. Below is one breathtaking view, as seen from our hotel room.

In the end, we got to spend two days with our fabulous cousins after all. We enjoyed cousin Anne’s fine cooking on Saturday night. On Sunday, we all piled into their van to take Nate back to his college in Charlotte, where he is studying to be a chef (the school actually offers an entire course on chocolate). Along the way, we stopped at a restaurant and I enjoyed a meal of Cajun-style barbecued salmon. It was delicious and the company was delightful.

As an added treat, I got to visit the horses who live next door to our cousins. When I held out some apple cores, they walked right up to me. If anyone thinks cats and dogs are the only pets who beg for food, they haven’t interacted with horses. These two have begging down to a science.

So I ended up with plenty to be thankful for, after all. I’m especially grateful for our cousins’ visit while I was stuck in a hospital 500 miles from home. They certainly didn’t have to go out of their way like that, especially when they had another all-day trip to make the following day. But they did – and revived my faith that there are plenty of kind and generous people left on the planet.