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Toto, We’re Not in Kansas Anymore…

As most of you know, due to my line of work, I have traveled a great deal in my life. Flying to several locations within a week is “normal” for me. I really don’t think about being up in the air, or the danger that could occur…it’s just a mode of transportation for me. However, I am always aware that we could go down in a fireball at a moment’s notice. I can’t live my life focusing on, or fearing that moment…I would be worried all of the time, and not be able to work at all. Throughout the years, I have had some “close” calls, and this week’s story involves one such time.

Years ago, when I first started my career, I consulted numerous nursing facilities in south Louisiana. There was only one airline that flew to the smaller cities in the state, and its name was Royale Airlines. The plane could seat approximately 12 people, and you could NOT stand up…the ceiling was too low. 

On this particular trip, the plane was full, and the forecast was for “bumpy weather.” Now, let’s remember that this was a little prop plane, not a jet. The weather was so terrible that we actually flew into a tornado. We were too far out to turn back to the airport, so the only hope was for us to fly directly through the tornado. The plane jerked, bumped, lost altitude, turned sideways…you name it, we did it! I was past the prayer of “Please, dear God, don’t let us crash.” I knew we were! I began praying, “Dear Lord, please let me have a heart attack before we crash!” Seriously!! My faith has always been one of the strongest aspects of my daily life, and during all of the mayhem, I began very quietly singing to myself, “Why should I feel discouraged? Why should shadows fall? Why should my heart be lonely, and long for heaven and home? When Jesus is my portion, my constant friend is He. His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me…” I felt the most immediate calmness take over, and I was no longer afraid. We did manage to land, and we all kissed the pilot when our feet touched solid ground. And, of course, I was very thankful to God for having “watched over me.”

Fast forward 35 years later…it was my turn to stay with Mother at the nursing home as she lay dying. The facility received notice of a tornado warning, which meant they had to move every bed out of every room into the hallway. The staff performed like a well-oiled machine; they knew exactly what to do. So I was sitting by my Mother, on her bed, and she, along with several other residents beside us in the hallway, were a little restless and “fretful.” I was sitting there thinking what could I do to make things better, and then, it came to me…that memory from long ago. I began singing to my Mother “His Eye is on the Sparrow…” She calmed down immediately, as did the other residents around her. We came through the tornado warning safe and sound, just like 35 years ago.

When people ask me if I ever get scared flying, I always say, “No!” I visualize God’s hands under every plane that I fly on, carrying me safely to my destination. I truly believe those words, “…and I KNOW He watches me.” This week I am going to focus strongly on those words, have faith, and believe that He IS taking care of me, and is always there for me. Won’t you join me? Just for this week…

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Come on Down!!!

Well…I’m sure most of you have worked really hard this week trying to remove and forget the searing image of my “being naked” from last week’s post…but I bet you laughed! In fact, I have heard from quite a few of you saying that you were “on the floor” and laughing out loud. How wonderful is that???

Monday will be my sisters’ birthday. That’s right, I said “sisters’ birthday.” There are two, and they share the same birthday because they are twins. Gay is ten minutes older than Beth. They are both older than me, but we won’t say too much about that…

There are not too many people, other than your parents, that you can say that you’ve known ALL of your life. I can say that about my sisters. They have “been there,” present in my life, from the moment that I took my first breath.

We were raised on a little farm in Sandy Hook, MS. The farm was named “Double Trouble,” and we had all kinds of farm animals, including a very large bull. We were told so many times, “stay away from the bull,” “don’t agitate the bull,” “leave the bull alone.” So you already know that we could NOT possibly leave that bull alone. We would have our little red jeans on, go out in the barn, dance and giggle until the bull was all worked up and ready to charge. We knew right down to the second when he would do this. At the very last moment, we would scream, run over to the ladder that went to the loft, climb up, and then look down at the bull…We would then break into hysterical laughter! When I look back at that now, I wonder, “what would have happened if just one of us had slipped….” It is a wonder that we are all still alive, but we had a wonderful childhood!!

I have so many good memories of these sisters…and us together…Gay dancing ALL the time. If there was music…she was moving! Beth (who did NOT ever take medicine) took a antihistamine for a cold. It made her so “loopy” that she took out the back corner of the house with her boyfriend’s car when she came home from work. (He later became her husband, so I guess he forgave her for the car being messed up…) While playing hide and seek one day, I remember distinctly how we discovered all of our “Santa” gifts in the quilt box…how crushed we were to learn that there was no Santa…and how we made a pact to hide the fact that we knew on Christmas morning.

As I grew up, they were the “go to” people for all of my questions. They taught me how to shave my legs…how to shampoo and “fix” my hair…what to do when “the curse” arrived…I could ask them anything.

My sisters grew up to be smart, sassy, “steel magnolias.” I am so proud of them! Gay moved back home to live with my parents a number of years ago, and assisted them in the daily operations of their personal care home for the mentally challenged. After her children were grown, Beth went back to college and received her degree. As my Mother’s illness (Alzheimer’s Disease) progressed, Beth became the Administrator of the personal care home, and she and Gay worked together to make certain that Mama and Daddy continued to have an income. Their religious faith and strength just continues to grow. They are prayer WARRIORS!!!

So you are probably wondering by now, where is all this headed? Where’s the story? Here we go…

During the summer, Mama and Daddy would take us to a little creek, and let us swim and play with other kids and families doing the same thing. It was such a sweet, simple, and uncomplicated time. The bridge that went over the creek would certainly not pass any of today’s criteria for being safe. It did not have any rails on either side, and pretty much looked like an open train trestle. The distance from the bridge, down to the water, was probably about 30 feet, give or take a little.

On this particular day, we arrived at the creek, and Daddy parked the car to the side of the road. We could not wait to get down to the water and play. As we were walking over the bridge, one of Gay’s friends hollered up to her and said, “Come on down!!” Gay did not hesitate…she jumped straight from the bridge down to the water. Now this would not have been a big deal, except for these two very important facts….1. It was about a 30 foot drop for her, and…2. She did NOT know how to swim! My father and mother were scrambling down the banks to get to her as quickly as they could. As soon as her head popped out of the water, gasping for air, my daddy had her in his arms. She was not hurt in any way…she simply wanted to get to her friends, and did not even think about the possible consequences of that jump.

Everyday I hear people say,”One day, I would like to….” (finish the sentence any way you like…), or “I would be too afraid to do…(finish the sentence any way you like…). What would you do if you were not afraid to try? What would you change in your life? What would you do differently? This week I am going to do things that are outside of my “comfort zone.” I am going to be daring, adventurous, and try something that I’ve never done before. I am going to “jump off the bridge…” Won’t you join me? Just for this week….

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Hon, you goin’ have to take that off…

Hope everyone has had a good week, and that you were successful in letting those “family” members know how much you love and need them in your lives. I feel that we are in need of a little levity this week, and that usually involves “something” that I’ve done, so here is the story…

Years ago, Hot Springs, Arkansas was the “resort area” of the South. It was all you heard about…the vacation spot! The commercials made the area sound SO luxurious!  As a young professional, just starting out in my career, I had always thought how neat it would be to go there one day…and personally enjoy those hot mineral springs that people kept talking about. I never really made any plans to go…it was just one of those places that was “on my list.” It was years before the opportunity to go presented itself.

I worked with a dietitian who was going to be making a presentation at a large convention, held at a beautiful resort…Where, you might ask? The convention just happened to be located right, smack dab in the middle of Hot Springs! As it turned out, my friend’s husband did not want to go with her, and she did not want to go by herself, so lucky me got the invitation! I accepted as soon as she finished uttering the offer. Oh, the plans I had in my head!

As soon as we arrived and checked into the hotel, I called down to guest services and scheduled a hot mineral bath and massage for the next morning. (Now you need to know that this was in the late 70’s and I really had no idea what a mineral bath or massage was at the time…) So, at 10:00 the next morning, I made my appearance at the spa. The female attendant gave me a real “southern” welcome, provided me with a sheet, and directed me to a small room where I was instructed to remove all of my clothes. WELL…I’m not sure what I had been thinking when I fantasized about Hot Springs and a hot mineral bath, but I can assure you that removing any of my clothing at ANY time had NOT been a part of the fantasy. All too quickly, I realized that in order to be given a bath, one HAD to remove their clothes!

So…I’m in the little changing room by myself, looking at the sheet, looking at my clothes (still on my body, mind you), and I decide, well, I can pretty much cover everything up with this sheet. I proceeded to remove my clothes and wrap the sheet around me. When I came out, I looked like a mummy from one of those old time movies. The sheet was wrapped from my neck down to my ankles. The attendant smiled and instructed me to follow her. I “tippy-toed” all the way back to the bath area, praying that I would not lose my balance and fall. As I walked, I prayed, “Please, dear God, let mineral water be colored.” Just for your own edification, mineral water is NOT colored…it is VERY clear…just like regular drinking water.

As we arrived at the “bath area,” the attendant turned me over to another staff person. This lady looked at how I was wrapped up in the sheet, put her hand on her hip, and said, “Hon, you goin’ have to take that off.” It was decision time for me…either go through with the appointment or leave quickly before anyone could catch me. I prided myself in being educated, “with it,” and fairly “cool.” I thought well, “it will be obvious that they’ve seen better…hopefully, they’ve seen worse.” And I dropped my sheet.

Did you know that there is absolutely NO WHERE to put your hands when you are naked and you are “conversing” with someone who happens to be clothed??? I tried crossing my arms, placing my hands on my hips, moving them around through the air….anything to hide the fact that I did not have any clothes on my body…and believe me…NOTHING WORKED!!! I was still naked, and she was still dressed!!

She finally assisted me into the tub, placed a nice warm towel behind my neck, left for a few moments, and then brought me a small glass of hot mineral water. She told me to enjoy myself, and left. After a few minutes, soaking in that warmth, drinking “that” mineral water, I began to unwind and relax a little. Then I started to get a little “cocky.” I was thinking “ain’t you something…up here in Hot Springs, AR, getting you a hot mineral bath…you are some kinda uptown!” I was doing just great until a new person (fully clothed like the others…) came into my bath room. She gave me a big smile and said, “Good Morning! How are you this beautiful day?” Now what I said was, “Fine, thank you, and you?” However, inside my head I was screaming, “How do you think I am??? I’M NAKED!!!” She proceeded to put a glove on her hand that resembled steel wool, so it definitely got my attention. She poured a little lubricant onto the glove and then reached into MY tub, lifted one of MY legs, and began giving me a bath! (I can promise you that I was watching very closely just where she went with that glove…) The whole time I was thinking…you PAID for this humiliation!!

I did live through that experience, and have come to love, and strongly believe in the therapeutic value of massage; however, the jury is still out on the baths…

There are times when all of us have “jumped” into a situation, or made decisions, without having all of the facts, and without realizing the end result. You would think that after all these years, I would have learned that valuable lesson, but unfortunately, I can still get myself into some “awkward” situations. So this week, I am going to concentrate on fully analyzing, obtaining facts, and just plain ole researching before I commit myself to any activity – whether for business or pleasure. Won’t you join me? Just for this week…

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He doesn’t HAVE to love you…

Many of you know that I lost my Mama last month, so “family” has been a lot on my mind. Of course, during that difficult time, our immediate family was together for several weeks. It had been a long time since we had spent an extended length of time together. And while it was a sad time, we truly enjoyed being with each other. Most of my “stories” have come from lessons that I was taught by both of my parents; however, this week’s article is another life lesson that my Mama taught me when I became a teenager.

My mother’s parents (my Mamaw & Papaw) were given a gift late in their life and marriage – a baby boy!! When he was born, he was already an uncle to quite a few nieces and nephews…me being one of them. Although he was just a few years younger than me, we grew up as brother and sister. I cannot remember a time, that I did not have my arm around him, loving on him, and ALWAYS taking care of him. We were constantly together and definitely “two peas in a pod.” I adored him…and the feeling was very mutual – he adored me also. We grew up together, playing and enjoying childhood as it was meant to be enjoyed! However, as I grew older, I matured a little faster than him…and began wanting to do more “adult” activity than childish activity. He would continue to come over to our house every day, but I began ignoring him…never having any time for him.

My Mama had been observing the changing dynamics of our relationship, and finally, one afternoon after I had finally gotten him to go home and leave me alone, she sat me down and talked to me very lovingly. She explained that just because he was family, did NOT mean that he had to, or would always, love me and want to be around me. Just hearing her say those words struck fear in my little heart. I could not imagine a world with him not loving me. She explained that she understood that I was “growing up,” and changing, but that he would also eventually go through that transition. She explained that how I treated him NOW, would certainly impact how I would be treated later on. She also told me that I was hurting him.

I GOT the message! I began treating him much better, making time for him, and letting him know that I loved him, and maybe even more importantly, I wanted him to keep loving me. I realized, from this young age, that all relationships need tender caring love…nurturing…cultivation…consideration…respect…EVEN if they are your blood relatives!!! See, they don’t HAVE to love you…you STILL have to earn that love and respect. Why is it that we sometimes give perfect strangers more respect, more attention, more consideration, than we give a family member? So, this week I am going to concentrate on letting my family members know just how much I love them, how much I need them, how much I LIKE them, how much I enjoy them…and that I want them in my life! Won’t you join me? Just for this week… 

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What do you want me to do with that????

Well…we are beginning the third month of my year-long commitment to writing a blog…hard to believe…I don’t know if the articles are prompting others (that would be you) to do random acts of kindness each week or not. However, I can say that writing them has helped me cope a little better with the losses and changes occurring in my life. It has helped to learn of your interest and support, and to hear your own, personal stories and comments. I need your assistance though. I want to increase the number of people who read the blog. If you like the stories, and the weekly “challenges,” why not forward the link or site to other members of your family and friends? If you get a “chuckle” or a positive “lift” from the articles, maybe others would also…”Hearing from people” leads me to our article and challenge for this coming week…

For years I have tried to figure out why people, even perfect strangers, will come up to me and start very personal conversations. At times I feel like I have an invisible sign on my forehead that reads, “Talk to me. I will listen to ANYTHING!!” I can get on an elevator with an individual on the sixth floor of a hotel, and by the time we have reached the first floor, I know their name…how long their stay will be…their marital status (and if they are happily/unhappily married)…number of children they have…what they do for a living…what they do for “fun”….and I don’t ask any questions!! They just open up and begin talking to me. It seems that people are so desperate to have someone listen to whatever is going on in their lives, that they will tell you almost anything. I have actually had, on two separate occasions, at two separate conferences, an individual to come up after my presentation, introduce themselves, and then say, “I’m having sexual difficulties with my husband.” I smiled, tried NOT to look shocked, but my brain was screaming, “Just WHAT do you want me to do with that??” People are so desperate to talk that they will get on public TV and divulge the most intimate details of their lives. I heard one lady on a program state, “I slept with my brother.” And of course, I was thinking, well even if that were true, why, for goodness sakes, would you get on TV and tell everyone about it???

Just recently I flew back into Knoxville, TN from a road trip. It was very late at night, almost midnight, and there were about 100 of us waiting at the baggage carousel for our luggage. I admit, I was tired, and all I wanted to do was get my suitcase and get home as quickly as possible…to my bed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a woman begin moving from the total opposite side of the carousel. I was careful not to make eye contact, or show interest of any type. I thought, surely, she is just coming over this way to get a better location to wait for her luggage. As she began to get closer, I could “feel” purpose in her movement…her focus was directed…She ended up standing about one foot from me. As she assumed her position, she began talking…she had just returned from a visit with her daughter…she had a new grandchild…would I like to see pictures…she began showing me the pictures…telling me names…reliving the weekend…Inside my head, I was thinking, “out of ALL of these people waiting for their luggage, how on earth did you pick me to talk to?” I was just standing there, minding my on business, and she walked all the way from the other side of the room to get to me! I wanted to just say, “lady, I have been with people ALL week…I’m tired…I don’t won’t to talk to anybody!” But, you already know what I did; don’t you? I smiled really big, bragged on how beautiful the new grand baby was, and asked questions and made the appropriate comments. Did I have to “fake it?” No, even though I was bone-tired, I was genuinely interested in her as a person. 

So, this week, I am going to try extra hard to give people my full attention and focus in conversation. I am going to understand that people do need to know that what they are saying, or what is happening in their lives, is important to someone else…that they, themselves are important, and should be given attention. I will let them know that they “matter.” Won’t you join me? Just for this week…

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You’re not a part of our group…

For over 30 years, my parents operated a personal care home for older adults who were mentally challenged. They kept adding room after room, until the house that all of us children grew up in could accommodate approximately 12 additional people. My parents loved each person and felt they were a part of our family. In fact, all of the residents called my father “Daddy,” and my mother, “Mama Jo.”

When this “extended” family was younger, we would take them on vacation each summer. They loved country music, and more times than not, we ended up vacationing in Nashville, TN…which leads me to my story for this week…
On this particular trip, we were going to spend all of one day at the Opryland Amusement Park, and then finish the day by going to The Grand Ole Opry. If you have never worked with an older adult who is mentally challenged, you need to understand that it is difficult for them to “adapt” to a new environment. On outings, it is so easy for one of them (or several) to get confused and wander away from the group. So, all day long we had been “counting,” making certain that everyone in our group stayed with us…and that we ended up with the correct number of people each time.
 
We were in the amusement park, going from musical show to musical show, when suddenly the bottom fell out of the sky, and it was pouring down rain. It was just a summer shower – no thunder or lightning, so I gave everyone a choice: we could buy rain slickers and continue to go to all the musical shows, or we could leave the park and go explore the Opryland Hotel. Now, they did not know what a “slicker” was, but they wanted to stay in the park, so that was their choice. I went to a nearby store and purchased said slickers. (Just to give you a complete picture, and in my defense…the slickers were either orange or blue, and once you put them on, all you could see was a face and legs…)
 
I began removing the slickers from their packaging, and put one on each person in our group. As I did so, I would place my hands on their shoulders, and line them up together…always counting, making certain that we still had everyone with us. I stopped suddenly when I realized I had my hands on the shoulders of a man that I did not recognize. (I had lined both him and his wife up with our group…) I didn’t even have sense enough to remove my hands from his shoulders. I looked him straight in the eyes and said, “You’re not a part of our group.” He said, “We know it.” I then said, “Well, why did you let me line you up with our group?” He gave me the cutest little grin, winked, and said, “Ma’am, we thought it was best to do EXACTLY what you said…”
 
So…this week I am going to recognize and understand that I don’t have all the answers…that I don’t need to “direct” anyone’s actions. I don’t HAVE to take care of everyone else. I am going to fully appreciate that others can contribute and be responsible for their actions. Won’t you join me? Just for this week…
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That’s MY baby…

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I am sure a number of you were wondering if I would post an article tonight, as my Mom did die this week, and we buried her this past Friday. To say that my heart is in a million pieces, would be a slight understatement. I know that the days are going to be long this week, and the next week, and the next…However, one thing that my Mama always taught me was to honor my commitments, and I committed to each of you that I would write a weekly article for at least one year. So here goes…

My Mama told me a number of years ago that each of us children (there are four) were “planned,” and our births were looked forward to with great anticipation. She said that she and Daddy viewed each pregnancy as a “sacred event,” a special gift from God. There has not been one moment of my life that I did not know how proud she was of my accomplishments, or of me as a person. Even as her disease progressed, she would ask me, “How many people did you speak to today?” I would tell her the number. She would then ask about the audience’s response to my presentation. Sometimes I would say, “well, they want me to come back…” or I would say, “I got a standing ovation in New York City!” She would just be thrilled and would ALWAYS say, “That’s MY baby!!”

No matter how old I got, it was wonderful to hear the pride in her voice and to know that I was still considered someone’s “baby.” It has been hard for me to understand, and imagine, a parent not letting their child know their worth and value. I know individuals who have never known that support, acceptance, pride and warmth from a parent. So HARD to believe…

During my Mother’s wake/visitation, one of my great nephews came up to hug me. (He’s a senior in high school this year.) I loved on him and asked about some of the activities in his life. He proceeded to share his school and sport accomplishments. When he finished, I hugged him again, and said, “That’s MY baby!” He grinned from ear to ear! Someone nearby leaned over and asked him, “Are you going to let her call you a baby?” He smiled, put his arms around me, and proudly stated, “I will always be Aunt Cat’s baby!” So you see, all of us want to be someone’s baby…and we all want to be “bragged on…” our accomplishments recognized and valued.

My little three year old great niece sat down by me at home, after the funeral, and wanted to draw on her “doodle” pad. I asked her what we should draw. She said, “a flower!” She then said, “but I don’t know how to draw a flower.” I explained (and showed) her how to draw a flower. When we got through with it, she was so pleased, and said, “I will go and show Grandpa. He will be so proud!” And I thought again, here is yet another child looking for someone to be proud of her. My brother did not fail her – he bragged and went “on and on” about how wonderful her drawing was.

So, here is my challenge for this week…If you are a parent, a grandparent, an aunt, an uncle, a sister, a brother, a friend – ANYBODY, let the children and young adults in your family (world) know that they are valued, loved, and worthy…let them know that you are proud of their accomplishments and of them! Say to them, “That’s MY baby!” That’s what I will be doing…Won’t you join me? Just for this week…

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I will always love you….

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As I am writing this article, I am sitting in a nursing home, holding my Mother’s hand, and literally watching her die. So many thoughts are running through my head. Most of them center around what this woman has given to me, the legacy she leaves behind, and the hole that will be in my heart. But because Valentine’s Day is just around the corner, the obvious topic for this week’s article is true love.

April 3rd of this year, my parents would have been married 65 years. Because their love was so much a part of our daily lives, I never gave it much thought as being extraordinary. As I grew older, however, I realized how phenomenal their relationship was. You see, I can’t ever remember a time that they argued. I’m sure they “discussed,” but I never, ever heard an argument or cross words. They went through hard times, slim times, and good times. Their love never wavered…it only grew stronger. His eyes have always “lit up” when she came in a room, just as hers did at the sight of him. The nursing home staff cannot seem to fathom a love this deep…that adoration can be this lasting…but it is. Even as sick as my Mother is, her blood pressure and heartbeat “jump” at his voice.

While traveling for business, I get to observe numerous couples and their “dynamics.” I watch husbands and wives sitting in restaurants, not speaking to each other the entire meal; couples waiting in lines, staring straight ahead, never conversing. The neglect and lack of consideration is so evident. It makes me sad to see that these individuals are missing the love that my parents have. And I wonder what happened to them…why did their love apparently “die,” while my parents’ love grew fuller and deeper each day.

I think I have it figured out…my folks were in it for the long haul. They did not attempt to “jump ship” when times were tough. They respected each other and treated each other with consideration and love. They genuinely liked each other, and they shared the same values and faith.

Loving relationships do not come easily…they take effort…nurturing…patience… understanding…communication…and so much more. So this week I don’t actually have a challenge. I would simply encourage you to cultivate and nurture the love that is in your life and not take that person for granted. Show them how much they mean to you – not “just for this week,” but for always…

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I Can’t Feel My Toes!!

Hi to all! Hope everyone is continuing to do positive acts of kindness for others, as well as yourself. I have been enjoying your stories and comments! It has been a rough week for the Selman family, as my Mother is declining rapidly, and we know that she will win her battle with Alzheimer’s soon. Since it has been a pretty heartbreaking week, I thought a little humor and levity was necessary. So here is my story and challenge for the week…

As most of you know, I speak at conferences and conventions all over the United States, and am certainly a seasoned, road warrior. I KNOW how to travel…I have two of everything…one suitcase is always packed, ready to go. I never travel without at least two outfits (even for one presentation), because you just never know! 

I was scheduled to make a one-day presentation for an association, in a small town. For some reason, I only took one dress with me. Once I arrived at the hotel (make that “motel”), I realized that I had not brought any pantyhose to wear with my dress.  (This was before it became popular to go “hoseless.”) Since there was no huge merchandise store in the area, and nothing open, I found myself at the local truck stop. Now, the sign did say “one size fits all,” and I thought, “Well then, they should fit me.” (As an aside, I would like to point out to all of you that one size does NOT fit all!) I returned to the motel and turned in for the night, secure in the fact that I would be properly attired the next day for my presentation.

I got up the next morning, took my shower, and began dressing. Everything was going great until I began putting on those “one size fits all” pantyhose. The crotch of the pantyhose would only come up to my knees…no matter how hard I pulled and tugged! In my head I was trying to visualize the individual they used as a measurement for the “one size….” I began to panic at this point, thinking, “It’s winter, my legs are too white…there’s no way that I can make a presentation with BARE legs!” It was then that the creative side of my brain kicked in…

I thought, “cut the pantyhose in half at the crotch, and find something to hold each leg up, like the old-fashioned garters that your grandmother used to wear.” I quickly found a pair of scissors and cut the pantyhose in half. Then I began frantically searching for two rubber bands…NONE to be found! I called the front desk asking for rubber bands. They said, “We’re so sorry, Ms. Selman, we’re out – have them ordered.” I really began to panic then, as the clock was ticking, and I STILL had those white legs…

I began wildly looking for anything in the room that might hold those pantyhose up! My eyes finally came to rest on my tennis shoes, and I thought, “Yay, the shoe strings!”  (It is hugely important to note at this time, that the shoestrings were NOT elasticized…) I quickly put each leg of the pantyhose on, wrapped a shoestring around the top of them, and rolled them up tight, just above my knees. I then put the dress on and stepped in front of the mirror to check everything out. I thought to myself, “no one will ever be the wiser…”

I got to the meeting, introductions were made, and I began my presentation. (Just so you know, and to give you a completely visual picture, when I speak, I move constantly and am obviously energetic and  enthused.) Fifteen minutes into the presentation, my legs began tingling, and I realized that I had probably made a huge error in judgment regarding the shoe strings. They were too tight and I had most certainly cut off the circulation to my legs. So, as I was speaking, my brain was screaming, “What are you going to do…you’re going to lose all feeling in your legs, fall…and everyone is going to see this mess under your dress! DO something!”

So….I began walking about a little more, flexing my calf muscles as much as I could, trying to ignore the curious stares that I was beginning to get…By this time, I could no longer feel my toes, and knew that I was in deep trouble. I realized that I could not keep up the charade any longer. I stopped my presentation, looked at everyone in the audience, and said, “I have a confession to make. ” I then lifted my dress high enough for them to see the garters, and said, “If I don’t untie these immediately, I am REALLY going to give you a show!” They all cracked up laughing, and my sorry story came out…At break, one of the participants ran to a store and got me a pair of pantyhose that actually fit, and I finished the day.

We take ourselves far too seriously, apply needless pressure to an already pressurized life, and fail to see the humor in many of our situations. This week I am going to try harder to believe that most people are understanding and will “follow my lead.” If I can be calm, and see the humor, then usually, they can too. Won’t you join me? Just for this week…

by

Wonder, the Dog…

My Father has always been a quiet, gentle, soft-spoken man. In the past, whenever I would visit my Mom and Dad at their home, it usually ended up that Daddy mostly “listened” as the rest of the family did the talking. As my Mother’s Alzheimer’s progressed, and she eventually had to enter a nursing home, it meant that our family had to make yet another change in our “dynamics.” Instead of my Mother and I “running our mouths” a mile a minute, it was now my sweet Father and I in front of the TV watching so many westerns, that I actually felt bow-legged at times. I kept having an irresistible urge to say, “Howdy, Partner!” to everyone I met…

I thought, you know, you’re wasting precious time with your father, just watching TV. Why not try to draw him out and actually talk? So, I began the plan for “conversation” during  my next visit. Much to my delight and surprise, he began telling me stories from the past…stories that I had never heard before. I discovered that he asked Mother to marry him by writing the words, “Will you marry me?” on the inside of the windshield of his car one night. He was a “romantic” young man, and I never knew that. One of our discussions has led to my story and challenge for this week…

Daddy and I were sitting in the living room, watching another western, when he turned to me and said, “you know, I used to have the prettiest little dog when I was a boy.” (This was the first time I had ever heard that Daddy had a pet as a child, and being an “over the top” animal lover myself, he had my undivided attention.) He said, “it just came up one day, and never left my side…a little collie…followed me wherever I went.” He said that they tried to find out if the dog belonged to any neighbors, but no one claimed him, so my Dad got to keep him. He continued with his story, and said, “oh, how I loved that little dog.” I wanted to know more, and asked, “what did you name the dog?” He said, “Wonder.” Now, I was expecting to hear “Spot,” “Rover,” or anything else, but “Wonder?????” I then asked the obvious question, “Where on earth did you come up with the name, Wonder?” He looked at me as if that was the most ridiculous question he had ever heard, and said, “Well, we always wondered where he came from….” I was laughing so hard, that he got to laughing with me; and the more we laughed, the more tickled we got. It was a pretty wonderful time, and a great memory for me to hold in my heart.

Families are losing their histories because younger family members don’t really talk to their older relatives – grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles, etc. As a result, no one hears, or takes the time to listen to, these wonderful stories. If you have ever watched the face of an older individual telling their story, it is as if they are actually reliving the event – their faces are full of wonder, and at times seem like a video that you are able to watch yourself, firsthand. So here is my challenge for this week: Start talking to your older family members! Ask them to reminisce. There are guides and books everywhere on the Internet to assist you with “topical suggestions” for conversations, if you can’t come up with your own. If you no longer have older relatives, there are THOUSANDS of precious elders living in nursing homes, assisted living centers, even in your own neighborhood, who would love to tell a story and have someone listen. I am going to see if I can learn more stories like “Wonder, the dog.” Won’t you join me? Just for this week…