Tag Archives: Positive energy

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It Will Never Be The Same Again…

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As many of you know, my Mother passed away in February – that means that this weekend holds a holiday that I have never experienced without my Mother. So, here’s the story for this week…

Two weeks ago I had to go grocery shopping. We were just about to head to the checkout, when I remembered that I needed just one more item. I rushed back to the area where I thought the item could be found, and turned down an aisle to get there a little faster. As soon as I started walking a few feet into the aisle, I realized that I had made a mistake. I had unknowingly turned down the greeting card aisle, and plastered everywhere were Mother’s Day cards. In an instant my eyes were filling with tears as I realized that this year I would not be buying a Mother’s Day card, nor would I be making the trip to spend the weekend with her in celebration. I left the aisle as quickly as I possibly could, and tried not to think about what I had just seen, and what it meant for me.

I will be honest…I have struggled with this loss, just as I struggled with her disease process. I have the skills, expertise and ability to train healthcare professionals in these areas, but I have been rather inept in helping myself. I have a very dear friend, who has watched this struggle of mine. She finally asked me, “Cat, just what are you thinking and feeling? What are you hoping for? What are you looking for?” And I tried to verbalize…I said, “I don’t feel Mother’s presence. In my mind, I just assumed, because we were so close, that when she died…I would feel her presence ‘with me’ constantly. That has not happened, and I don’t know what to do.” As soon as I expressed those thoughts, she said, “Cat, she is with you every day…she is in your heart…she is in your mind…she is living inside you.” And now comes the best part…she said, “All you have to do to ‘feel her’ is continue being the person that she wanted you to be.” And just like that, I felt a peace that I had not felt since Mama’s death. You see, I realized that this is something I could do! I can be the person she raised and was proud of…I can emulate the character, integrity and Christ-like traits that she taught by living example. You see, I simply do NOT know how else to be, but who I am…who she made…and who she loved.  I AM my Mother’s child!

For those of you whose mothers are still living…MAKE the time and effort to visit with them, make memories with them, enjoy them, just “be” with them…for one day, they absolutely will be gone from your life…and it will never be the same again. For those of you whose mothers are no longer living, do what I am doing…let’s live the lives that our Mamas taught us to live…strong in faith, compassion, loyalty and love…and ALWAYS doing for others. BE the person that “Mama” would have you be. Won’t you join me? Just for this week….

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What Do You Mean….You “Can’t Find It”???

Well, it’s a new month…May! That means I have been writing this blog for four months already. Hard to believe! I started this blog in hopes that it would help me deal with the overwhelming sadness I felt over my Mother’s battle with Alzheimer’s and resulting death. Writing the weekly stories has helped me more than I can say, and I hope that all my visitors and followers have received some sense of solace, comfort, or inspiration, as well as a laugh or two…Since May is pretty much known as the “graduation” month, this week’s story will have to address that particular topic. So, we begin…

I graduated from high school in 1970. Now before you get out your calculator to figure out my age, I need to let you know that I was a child prodigy and five years old at the time…It was a time of social unrest and “upheaval” in our little town (as the media played it up to be). 1970 was the first year of mandated integration, and both the “white” and “black” high schools had been merged that year. The graduating class of 1970 was so large that it was moved from the usual venue of our high school auditorium to that of the football stadium. (Just as an aside, I would like to comment that on the first day of school that year, they had called in the National Guard, Highway Patrol Troopers, and various other “police” organizations, to make certain that we students would be “orderly” on that historic event – the “joining,” if you will, of two diverse high schools. I think we surprised the nation in that there were NO horrible events like some other cities and states, not in the South, such as riots and bus burnings. We simply went to school that day, and each day thereafter. I just wanted that down for the record….)

While growing up, my parents never put any pressure on me to be an “A” student. They had instilled such a desire in me for success, that I applied more pressure on myself than they ever did. As luck would have it, I had a “natural” ability to learn, so studying was never too difficult for me. Bringing home a “B” was very rare, and when that did happen, I was more upset than my folks.

Upon graduation, if a student had attained a certain grade point average for the entire four years of high school, they were given a designation of graduating “With Distinction.” The student did not know if they had attained that accomplishment until the night of graduation, when their name was called to receive the diploma. Although my Mother had NEVER said a word about this, I knew, deep in my heart, that she wanted to hear my name, graduating “With Distinction.” I was so nervous that night! We had practiced earlier in the day at the football stadium. We would approach the stage, row by row, and as they called our name, we would walk across, place one hand over the other to shake the Board of Education President’s hand, while receiving our diploma with the other hand…pause…look at the camera for the official photograph, and walk off the stage.

I was almost hyperventilating as I stepped closer and closer to the stage. I was praying the whole time, “Please, Dear God, I don’t think I have really asked for a lot in my life, but could you please let me graduate “with distinction?” I made it up the stairs, knowing that my name would be next. And then I heard…”Catherine Rebecca Selman, With Distinction!” I almost exploded with joy, so proud that this was something I had given to my parents. I hastily walked across the stage, where the Board of Education President stood. I shook his hand, and reached for my diploma…therein was the problem. They could NOT find my diploma! I stood there for the longest time with my hand out, waiting patiently for anyone to put that coveted document in my hand. I finally put my hand down by my side, kept the biggest smile on my face, and under my breath asked, “Do you want me to just walk on to the other side until you find it?” By this time, ALL of the officials of the Board of Education were frantically searching for my diploma. The President said, “No, just wait right here. We WILL find it!” The stadium was so quiet, you could have heard a pin drop. You could just feel the pity pouring out from everyone in the audience. I’m standing there and realize that at any moment, I am about to burst into maniacal laughter, thinking, “if this just doesn’t take the cake…here I have worked so hard to graduate with distinction, and they cannot even find me a diploma!” The absurdity of the situation was just about to get the best of me, and I could no longer abide the audiences’ pity and concern. So realizing that I was about to “lose it,” I turned to my class, lifted my hands in a questioning manner, and shrugged my shoulders…as if to say, “what’s a girl to do?” When I did that, the entire audience burst into the laughter that was bubbling up inside me. We all had a good laugh!

As we were laughing, and still watching the Board feverishly search for my diploma, the young lady who had received her diploma before me, came back over and gave them “her” diploma…which turned out to actually be mine. They had given her my diploma by mistake. She was so upset and crying…and I was thinking, “why are you crying?…at least you GOT a diploma…it was mine, but at least you got one…” They finally awarded me the “lost” diploma, I shook hands again, smiled for the photographer, and got a standing ovation…Later, so many people told me that “if it had to happen to anyone, we’re glad it was you!” I had no idea how many times I would hear that, and similar statements, throughout the rest of my life. 

I actually teach individuals how to develop “humor skills.” The first skill is the “ability to see the absurdity of your situation.” My philosophy is that there is not much that you can’t recover from if you possess the appropriate life skills…and humor is definitely one of those skills. So my advice to all graduates this month, is to see the humor in life, the absurdity of your situations, and know that you can, and will persevere and succeed. The choices are all up to you…you can control the direction of your life. I am no longer that “child prodigy,” but I continue to practice those life skills that have served me so well. Won’t you join me? Just for this week…

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It’s Dangerous in There!!!

When my little niece (Elizabeth, who has now become a lovely lady with children of her own) was learning how to use the potty, it was a nightmare for her. She would get so upset when “the time” would come, and she did NOT want to go to the bathroom. My brother finally asked her why she got so upset when she needed to go potty. She looked up at him, with those big, beautiful, blue eyes, and said, “Dad, it’s DANGEROUS in there!” We all got a good laugh at that, and eventually, she got the hang of it and overcame her fear of the bathroom. So here is this week’s story…

I was on a business trip with a friend and we had quite a layover in one of the major airports. Not wanting to “just sit,” we had walked over the entire length of the airport two or three times (several miles it seemed…); had eaten as much food as we could possibly hold; and had “window-shopped” as much as we could. (Neither one of us are much on shopping to begin with….) It got a little closer to the time for us to board the plane, and I thought that maybe I should visit the restroom one more time before getting on the next flight. I asked my friend if she would mind watching my stuff, and off to the restroom I went.

Now, airport bathrooms have changed over the years, and the “improvements” that have been made are always a “challenge,” depending on which airport you are in. The first improvement involved providing different seat heights for the toilets….some sit tall, some are short, some are in-between. There’s nothing more comforting than to rush into a cubicle, thinking the seat is at a certain height, and realize (when you hit the seat a little harder than anticipated) that you picked a cubicle with a “short” toilet. Then came the plastic rotating seat covers…did you rotate the plastic before you sat down…after you sat down…where was the button to initiate said rotation…and HOW would I know if they were just not recycling the same piece of plastic over and over to save money…I came up with a solution for that problem: mark an “x” on the plastic seat, press the button to rotate the seat cover, and look to see if your “x” came around again. (Now before you think that I have lost my mind and have a germ phobia, let’s look at this rationally…have you SEEN the people who fly on planes nowadays???? I need not say more…) Then came the paper seat covers. Great idea, I thought! So, I got the seat cover in place, turned around, unzipped my pants, and just as I was about to make contact with the seat….SWOOOOSH!! The toilet had automatically flushed itself and I no longer had a paper armor against the germs of society (the flush took my paper seat cover with it…). I stood up and tried to figure out how to “outwit” the toilet…So, this is what I did: I unzipped my pants, assumed the position and got ready to make contact. At the last minute, I slipped the toilet seat cover into place, and hurriedly sat down before the toilet flushed. SUCCESS!!!

Now that I had conquered the challenges within the cubicle, I was ready to face the remaining few…the automatic soap dispenser, the automatic water dispenser, and the automatic hand-drying options…Now, you need to know up front that there is something really goofy with my body (no snide remarks from those who know me really well…). Apparently, I do not have within my chromosomes the exact chemistry that will respond to, or activate, any type of “automatic” dispenser. It is indeed an effort to get anything to work for me, and I usually end up having to make numerous attempts at different sinks. I went to the first soap dispenser….no matter what I did, what motion I performed with my hands….no  soap. So I went to the next sink…same thing…a lot of motion and activity on my part, but still no soap. (Please understand that I have to complete this same exercise in EVERY airport bathroom that I visit…) I moved on to the next sink with even MORE enthusiastic motion and play of my hands…STILL no soap. I moved to the final sink. That was when disaster struck…the soap dispenser not only worked, but it was a super sonic dispenser! The flow of soap squirted out, shot completely OVER the sink, and landed directly on the front of my pants! I looked down and all I saw was a great big wad of white soap beginning to ooze slowly down the front of my pants. Of course, I panicked and thought, “get some paper towels, and DO IT NOW!” (I did mention that the paper towel dispenser was “automatic” also; didn’t I?) I waved my hands across the sensor. It did nothing! I tried two hands, wildly motioning in the senseless attempt to just activate it. STILL…nothing!!! I went to another dispenser…nothing. I was wild by this time because the soap had spread on my pants down to the crotch area. I began dancing and moving my body all different ways in front of the sensor to JUST GET SOME PAPER TOWELS!! By this time, I had drawn a crowd, who could not figure out if I was having a seizure of some sort, or that I was just a really weird air traveler. In a way of explanation to my “audience,” I was uttering under my breath as I was dancing…”soap”…”flew out of dispenser”…”on my pants”…”got to get it off”…”doesn’t work for me.” I finally realized that I was not ever going to get a paper towel, so I ran back into a cubicle to get some toilet paper. Wiping rapidly, I attempted to remove the gummy soap from my pants. The toilet tissue, being dry, began rolling into little balls and STICKING to the soap that was STICKING to my pants. It was time to wet the paper towel and see if that would help.  Guess what? The water dispenser was “automatic” also….On the fourth attempt, at the fourth sink, the water began to flow. Others began to help me. THEY were able to get some paper towels, and we made a valiant effort to remove all of the particles that had become a permanent part of my pants. Everyone, including me, eventually accepted defeat and gave up! As I was leaving, I noticed a woman having a little difficulty of her own in getting the paper towel dispenser to work. I leaned over and confidentially whispered, “you have to dance!”

I finally came out of the bathroom and headed in the direction of my friend. She took one good look at me, and those soap-gummed pants, and asked “What happened to you???” I just looked at her and said, “The bathroom has become a very dangerous place….”

There are people in our lives who have fears, whether actual or perceived. At times, we may dismiss those fears as being “silly” or unfounded simply because they are not our fears. As a result, we are not compassionate, patient, or understanding. I am going to be more understanding and tolerant of those who express concern or fear over events, tasks or actions that they face. I am going to provide the necessary support to assist them in facing their fear, and let them know that they are not alone…that I am there with them. Won’t you join me? Just for this week…

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But it’s NOT for me!!!

Sorry I am a little late this evening. It has been a busy week, but a good one. This week’s story includes some “sexually explicit” references, so I am giving everyone fair warning. If you are easily offended by the idea of older people being sexually active, or actually having sexual needs, this story will probably offend you…SO STOP READING NOW!!! However, if you are a healthcare professional in aging services, or if you are a mature adult who understands “where you came from,” you are going to appreciate the story…laugh quite a bit at my expense…and maybe , just maybe…you will get the message I intend.

When I first started working in a nursing home, to say that I was naive would have been a huge understatement. My father was a minister (yes, that does mean that I was a “preacher’s kid…”), so I was raised extremely conservatively in a very small southern town. When I graduated from high school, I attended a small Christian college for the next four years. Once I got the much desired college degree, my first job was that of Social Worker in a nursing home. I was ready to solve all of my residents’ problems, and meet their needs. I was enthusiastic and ready to put my education and knowledge to the test.

I have never understood why people think you stop loving once you get older. If you have loved someone for most of your life, have enjoyed kissing, holding, and loving them, why would you stop as you age? I would think, that for most people, love only grows stronger and becomes more precious.

One of my female residents was still having sexual “urges,” but did not have a “partner” to help fulfill those needs. As a result, she was continually injuring herself using assorted items. As the social worker in our building, figuring out a solution to this problem fell on my shoulders. In my innocence, I came up with an answer immediately – she needed an “item” that would be both safe and hygienic. So…off to the “adult book store” I went…

I walked up to the counter, and in a nice voice, uttered these words…”I would like to buy a vibrator.” And then it hit me….so I said very quickly, “But, it’s NOT for me!!!” The man looked at me as if to say, “Sure, lady, they ALL say that…” (wink, wink…) I hurriedly completed the purchase and left the building as quickly as I could.

Now, if anyone had seen me entering, or leaving, that store, they would have made an assumption about the kind of person I might be…a pervert, a porn lover, a “deviant.” And every assumption would have been wrong! I was, indeed, an “innocent,” simply trying to take care of a resident in my facility. Whenever I tell this story, people look at me and ask, “Surely you were not that innocent?” And the answer is always, “Yes, I was!”

Why is it that people are so ready to find fault with others? Why do we judge so harshly and quickly? Why do we jump to conclusions so easily, and not give people the benefit of the doubt? In fact, why are we “looking” in the first place? People are so busy looking at everyone else’s “yards,” that they fail to take care of their own “backyard.” I have trouble enough keeping my own life straight, walking in the light that I have been given. I have neither the time or expertise to tell people how they should live their lives. I am going to try really hard to take care of my own backyard, and let others take care of theirs. Won’t you join me? Just for this week….

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Are You a Member of the Good Words Club???

I have been so blessed in my life! I have an abundance of family and friends who love me completely and fully – warts and all…Throughout the years, my best friend’s family members have become my family also…”friend-in-laws,” if you will…I was around when her little sister was born, and got to be with this little one, watching her as she grew up to be a wonderful young lady…a college student…a wife…and finally, a mother! Of all the words that I could use to describe her, the one most “fitting” would be “mother.” Some people are not meant to become a parent, but oh my, she was simply designed for, and made to fill, this role.

When the long-awaited time came, she gave birth to a little girl, Adison. The new parents had very clear thoughts on “do’s and don’ts” for this precious child…One of the “don’ts” dealt with “appropriate” language that should be used when the toddler was in “hearing” distance. So, that’s the background…we will now go to the story…

First, you need to know that I do not use curse words…EVER! I feel that there are so many better ways to express one’s feelings without the usage of “those” words. You also need to know that my friend’s grandmother was almost a saint, and if you “slipped up” occasionally, and happened to use a “curse word,” she would very sweetly ask, “Don’t you want to be a member of the Good Words Club?” And of course, at that very moment, you do wish that you had been a member of the Good Words Club….

When Adison was three, her parents bought a brand new house. We were so excited for them, and for days had helped them move and get settled in. Since I am a pretty good “handy” person, I was given the job installing all of the window blinds. We had measured each window and Home Depot had cut the blinds to our exact specifications. As I was installing the blinds, “little one” was right with me, wanting to do whatever I was doing. I had to provide her with a little screw driver, show her how to use it, and she would hold the rule as I measured each window to match it with the correct set of blinds.

We got to a window, and no matter what I did, the blinds just would not fit. I kept going back and forth from one room to another, one window to another, trying to figure out if I had used the wrong blind on one of the windows. In doing this, my little helper became distracted and I ended up in a room by myself. By this time, I was tired and aggravated, in that I could NOT figure out why the blind would not fit. FINALLY, I thought to myself, why not remeasure the blinds and determine if they are the right size? As I did this, I was standing high on a step-ladder. In a moment of absolute clarity, I realized that the blinds had been cut wrong!! All this time I had been trying to “fit” the blinds to the window, and had just realized that they would never fit ANY window.  As the full realization hit me, I said, “Dadgumit!!” As soon as I said that word, I heard this tiny, soft voice repeat, “Dadgumit!!” Little one had eased up behind me and was standing on the first rung of the step-ladder…

My heart started beating faster, and I became more anxious, thinking, “OH NO!!! You have just taught her a curse word!!! That is expressly forbidden!!” I jumped off the ladder, grabbed her up in my arms, and ran into the living room to confess my sin to the parents. Fortunately, for me, they did not think that I had “damaged” the child too badly, and there was a lot of discussion as to whether what I said was even a curse word! But here is the bottom line…those little ones watch everything you say, everything you do, and will usually mimic it and make it a part of their own lives. What are you saying in front of impressionable children? Are you teaching them “good words” and “good acts?” Don’t you want to be a member of the Good Words Club? Just for this week…

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The Day My Aunt Froze Her Monkey…

OK, so I have your attention with my article title…My little brother is already going to be crying “foul,” because he thinks he came up with it, and keeps telling everyone he is going to write a book, and this will be the title of said book. HOWEVER, he and I definitely share the same humor genes (and ability to get ourselves into all KINDS of awkward situations…), so I am saying we both came up with this title. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it…(If he ever does write said book, I will go ahead and give him permission now to use the title.) So we begin…the story I am about to tell you apparently has several “versions.” I am really not sure which version is totally “chronologically” accurate, but the “facts” remain the same in all versions…

One of the benefits of belonging to a large family is that you end up with an awful lot of cousins. And oh, my, did we ever enjoy growing up together! Every childhood memory of import includes either one, or many, cousins. We shared everything as children…dreams, fantasies, hopes, hurts, losses, laughter, tears, apologies…and always, always, so much love.

My father and uncle worked many years together as speciality carpenters and builders. One day my father came home from work and said that my uncle had been given a little spider monkey by someone for whom they were working. All of us kids were so excited about this new turn of events…a spider monkey!!! We had only ever seen a monkey at the zoo, and now, our cousins actually had one for a pet. Our excitement and enthusiasm to see the little fellow could not be contained! It was all we could do to sleep that night.

The next morning we all got up begging Mama to let us ride over to our Aunt’s house to see the new monkey. OF COURSE, we were allowed to get on our bikes and ride over to see the new “addition” to our family. Oh, he was the cutest little thing you have ever seen! Our cousins named him Oscar. My uncle built the neatest, largest cage for him, and in the coming days we would love on, and play with, Oscar.

One morning, our cousins called, crying and crying, saying that Oscar was dead…that he had frozen in the night. (An unexpected cold snap had come through, and Oscar indeed had frozen during the night.) My Aunt got poor Oscar out of the cage, brought him into the house, and lovingly laid him on the counter in the kitchen. All of us children were properly subdued and tearful. We paid our respects and then went back to our respective homes. It was a very sad occasion for everyone.

In doing daily household chores, my aunt actually forgot about Oscar…that is, until she saw him hopping all over the house. Yes, my friends, Oscar had unfrozen, and had come back to life!!! (This is actually true! I saw him afterwards with my own eyes!) They like to have never caught poor Oscar that day. Once they did, they made certain that he was kept warm during the cold nights, and he lived a very long life thereafter. The cousins were thrilled beyond measure!

So many times in our own lives we give up on situations and people too easily. We discount them so readily…and just maybe they still have a lot to give and do in this life…and be in ours. I am going to concentrate on not giving up on people…I will keep believing that they still have a lot of “life” in them and deserve my support and loyalty. Won’t you join me? Just for this week…

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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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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…