Last week, on an exceptionally busy morning at work, I had already been verbally assaulted by two patients and it wasn't even 8:30 am. Both had dementia on some level which makes it a bit easier to not take it personally. One called another nurse and me a less than flattering name and in the next room the patient told the CNA and me how awful we were and continued on about the poor care as we were spending twenty minutes getting her cleaned up and lifted to the chair for breakfast. As a coworker who had overheard both experiences was joking with me about my morning thus far, our amazing chaplain happened to be standing nearby. Without hesitation he said, "I have the antidote for that!" He took my hand, look me directly in the eyes and told me what he appreciates about me. He is one of the most authentic people I have had the pleasure of interacting with so his words were not lost on me. It was a moment I will never forget and a beautiful gesture. In a couple of weeks I will easily forget the names I was called by the two patients but the kindness he showed to me will remain for a very long time.
Today, I took the kids to school, went for a run and grabbed a coffee. This is my usual routine on days I'm not at work. I was feeling down and mulling over a few things....until I looked in my rear-view mirror once I arrived in my neighborhood. In the car behind me, two dogs were sticking their heads out the window as the driver stalked me to my house. It was such a great picture. My friend Susan, who always has at least two dogs attached to her at all times, realized she was driving behind me and decided to follow me home just to see how I was this morning. It took her off her path and out of her routine for a few moments but I was so grateful for the kindness AND for the image of the two happy dogs with the wind in their fur.
This time of year is hard for many people. We see it at the hospital with flu on the rise but also with mental health related visits. We hear it in the stress of the patients and families in the hall. And I hear it in my friends' voices when they list off all the things they have to do before the end of the year. WE have the antidote. Kindness. I have been the recipient of some amazing kindness lately and it is a good reminder to me to try to return the favor - even when it takes me out of my routine or takes extra time.
I am reading an AMAZING book right now. I am prolonging the ending because I hate when a good book ends. The book is Well by Sarah Thebarge. Sarah is a physician's assistant who, in her 20's nearly lost her life to breast cancer. She survived and is currently a journalist and medical professional who regularly serves on missions internationally. Her book is about her time caring and serving others in Togo, West Africa. I don't think you need to be in medicine to appreciate the message of the book (although perhaps a little graphic at times). She is only in her 30's but I want to be like her when I grow up. One of the phrases she repeats often in the book is "love looks around." So, this season I am going to try to take moments and look outside myself. To look around and try to extend even just a bit of the kindness I have been shown.
Friday, December 1, 2017
Friday, September 29, 2017
The Pull Up
Remember the presidential fitness testing we did in elementary school? I dreaded it. I was a soccer player growing up but I wouldn't say I was the most athletically gifted kid. On top of that, all the sports I have chosen thus far have been more leg related sports so my arms....not so strong. I don't remember all the components of the fitness testing but I remember the pull ups. I could never do even one. Not even close. So, I would regularly endure the shame of just hanging there until they let me get off and move on.
My kids are stronger than I ever was at their age. Part of their golf involves a couple times a week at an indoor facility. They do all sorts of exercises to make them stronger while they are there - including pull ups. So, Audrey asked for a pull up bar for her birthday. Her golf coach was so excited that he bought it for her and now it hangs in the door of our guest room....taunting me.
Even though it was Audrey's gift, everyone in the family uses it. And, everyone had to prove that they could do one when it was first brought home. I was hopeful that magically my arms had gotten stronger over the decades. To be fair, even though my primary exercise is running, I have added yoga and some limited arm stuff to the mix. So, I was hopeful that by some miracle, I could now do a pull up. Guess what? I just hung there...not even close. Audrey and Mason decided to help me out and grabbed on to my legs and pushed me upwards. It was kind of sweet and horrifying at the same time. They didn't want me to be left out.
So I rekindled my shame relationship with the pull up bar. I see it every time I come in and out of the garage - which is all the time since next to a nurse, my other job seems to be chauffeur at the moment. So, every time I passed it, I would pause and jump up and do a pull up - and hang as long as I could. Jumping I had no problem getting up to the bar...but jumping doesn't actually count. I would do it anyway - sometimes cursing when I was alone - but doing it nonetheless.
The next month I continued but didn't feel like I was making any real progress. I kept at it anyway. I am many things, stubborn is definitely one. Probably near the top of the list. I don't like not being able to do things AND I don't like asking for help. I get it - these traits are good and bad. I will try to open a jar for a LONG time with Mason, who is now bigger than me and is definitely stronger, standing next to me offering his assistance. No way. I got this. I want them to see their mom as strong and capable. I realize I might take this too far.
My kids were not going to get me to the top of the bar again. So I made a goal. I was going to be able to do a pull up before they went back to school. And guess what? A couple weeks before school started, I DID IT. I was afraid it might be a fluke -like maybe I jumped and didn't realize it. So I waited a day or so before admitted to myself that I had defeated my decades old demon. I can't do two in a row yet but that's coming. Doing multiple pulls ups doesn't seem as monumental to me. I feel like I finally redeemed the 10 year old me that had to hang there in gym class. Now I am just waiting for someone to tell me what I can't do next.
My kids are stronger than I ever was at their age. Part of their golf involves a couple times a week at an indoor facility. They do all sorts of exercises to make them stronger while they are there - including pull ups. So, Audrey asked for a pull up bar for her birthday. Her golf coach was so excited that he bought it for her and now it hangs in the door of our guest room....taunting me.
Even though it was Audrey's gift, everyone in the family uses it. And, everyone had to prove that they could do one when it was first brought home. I was hopeful that magically my arms had gotten stronger over the decades. To be fair, even though my primary exercise is running, I have added yoga and some limited arm stuff to the mix. So, I was hopeful that by some miracle, I could now do a pull up. Guess what? I just hung there...not even close. Audrey and Mason decided to help me out and grabbed on to my legs and pushed me upwards. It was kind of sweet and horrifying at the same time. They didn't want me to be left out.
So I rekindled my shame relationship with the pull up bar. I see it every time I come in and out of the garage - which is all the time since next to a nurse, my other job seems to be chauffeur at the moment. So, every time I passed it, I would pause and jump up and do a pull up - and hang as long as I could. Jumping I had no problem getting up to the bar...but jumping doesn't actually count. I would do it anyway - sometimes cursing when I was alone - but doing it nonetheless.
The next month I continued but didn't feel like I was making any real progress. I kept at it anyway. I am many things, stubborn is definitely one. Probably near the top of the list. I don't like not being able to do things AND I don't like asking for help. I get it - these traits are good and bad. I will try to open a jar for a LONG time with Mason, who is now bigger than me and is definitely stronger, standing next to me offering his assistance. No way. I got this. I want them to see their mom as strong and capable. I realize I might take this too far.
My kids were not going to get me to the top of the bar again. So I made a goal. I was going to be able to do a pull up before they went back to school. And guess what? A couple weeks before school started, I DID IT. I was afraid it might be a fluke -like maybe I jumped and didn't realize it. So I waited a day or so before admitted to myself that I had defeated my decades old demon. I can't do two in a row yet but that's coming. Doing multiple pulls ups doesn't seem as monumental to me. I feel like I finally redeemed the 10 year old me that had to hang there in gym class. Now I am just waiting for someone to tell me what I can't do next.
Thursday, August 24, 2017
The 14 Shots
My mom recently had surgery. Fortunately, it all went well and she is on the mend. She has always believed herself to be a medical professional (she was a high school English teacher for decades) so it was a bit challenging for her to put her care in the hands of her daughter and other ACTUAL medical professionals but she tried REALLY hard. I did have to tell her to stop telling the staff that came into the room pre and post surgery that I am a nurse. I just wanted to be the concerned daughter. At work it can go one of two ways if the family members have a medical background. They can either be really helpful or they can question and criticize your every move. So, even though I know she just likes to share because she is proud of me, I made her stop during her time at the hospital. I behaved myself - not taking her iv out myself or getting her out of bed when I wasn't supposed to.
Her recovery included needing an injection every day in her abdomen to prevent blood clots. I agreed to do the first few and then assumed she would catch on and be able to self administer. A few days after her surgery I was headed back to work. The plan was to have her giving herself shots by then because I wouldn't have as much time to swing by and give her a shot. The day before my work day she mentioned that she didn't feel quite ready yet. I wasn't going to leave her on her own until I at least saw her do one successfully. When she told me she couldn't do it, I looked at her, probably a bit exasperated, and said, "you just like seeing me every day, don't you?" She smiled, "yes." I showed up the next night between shifts and asked again if she wanted to do it - to no avail.
After my initial frustration of trying to fit in one more thing, I looked forward to the visits. Sometimes I would come in, give her the shot, and be gone within 5 minutes. Other days I would sit and we would talk for awhile. One day I even had to find her on her walk, put her in my car and administer the shot because that's all the time I had. She asked if that was even legal. I assured her that because it was lovenox and not heroin, I thought we were okay. When I would text her I was on my way she would always have an enthusiastic response. And, even though she was going to get a shot, I know she meant it. I know she liked seeing me every day.
My mom has lived in the same city for a couple of years - only about 15 minutes away. Even so, she sees my kids more than she sees me. She will help drive my kids to golf, or pick them up from school for ice cream sometimes, or borrow one of them to mow her yard. I can easily go a couple of weeks without seeing her. Seeing each other every day for 14 days was something completely new.
As mother/daughter of course we have history. We haven't always seen eye to eye and we can get impatient with each other (she would probably say I get more impatient with her than vice versa). Sometimes I still feel like I am seen as the 14 year old kid instead of the 44 year old adult - but she probably feels like I haven't let her evolve either. That being said, the 14 days was an unexpected gift. I got to check on her incisions, bring her food and tend to her physical needs but we also got to talk. Talk without kids all around. Talk without being in a hurry.
Over 14 days I learned things about my mom that I never knew. She learned things about me that she didn't know. I began to look forward to those visits as much as she did. I think we both came away with a better understanding of the other. The shots ended on Tuesday. Yesterday was the first day in two weeks I didn't see her. I missed her. Who knew the unexpected blessing on surgery would be the 14 shots?
Her recovery included needing an injection every day in her abdomen to prevent blood clots. I agreed to do the first few and then assumed she would catch on and be able to self administer. A few days after her surgery I was headed back to work. The plan was to have her giving herself shots by then because I wouldn't have as much time to swing by and give her a shot. The day before my work day she mentioned that she didn't feel quite ready yet. I wasn't going to leave her on her own until I at least saw her do one successfully. When she told me she couldn't do it, I looked at her, probably a bit exasperated, and said, "you just like seeing me every day, don't you?" She smiled, "yes." I showed up the next night between shifts and asked again if she wanted to do it - to no avail.
After my initial frustration of trying to fit in one more thing, I looked forward to the visits. Sometimes I would come in, give her the shot, and be gone within 5 minutes. Other days I would sit and we would talk for awhile. One day I even had to find her on her walk, put her in my car and administer the shot because that's all the time I had. She asked if that was even legal. I assured her that because it was lovenox and not heroin, I thought we were okay. When I would text her I was on my way she would always have an enthusiastic response. And, even though she was going to get a shot, I know she meant it. I know she liked seeing me every day.
My mom has lived in the same city for a couple of years - only about 15 minutes away. Even so, she sees my kids more than she sees me. She will help drive my kids to golf, or pick them up from school for ice cream sometimes, or borrow one of them to mow her yard. I can easily go a couple of weeks without seeing her. Seeing each other every day for 14 days was something completely new.
As mother/daughter of course we have history. We haven't always seen eye to eye and we can get impatient with each other (she would probably say I get more impatient with her than vice versa). Sometimes I still feel like I am seen as the 14 year old kid instead of the 44 year old adult - but she probably feels like I haven't let her evolve either. That being said, the 14 days was an unexpected gift. I got to check on her incisions, bring her food and tend to her physical needs but we also got to talk. Talk without kids all around. Talk without being in a hurry.
Over 14 days I learned things about my mom that I never knew. She learned things about me that she didn't know. I began to look forward to those visits as much as she did. I think we both came away with a better understanding of the other. The shots ended on Tuesday. Yesterday was the first day in two weeks I didn't see her. I missed her. Who knew the unexpected blessing on surgery would be the 14 shots?
Friday, July 28, 2017
Remembering I matter
I was just headed off my unit at the hospital on the last day I worked when the HUC (health unit coordinator) called after me. She asked if I would help one of the patients back to bed before I left. It's hard to find anyone to help at shift change because everyone is busy getting or receiving report from the other staff. After 13 hours, 10 more minutes wasn't really going to matter so I agreed and headed to the patients' room. I had not been his direct care nurse that day but I had interacted with him briefly. When I walked in to help him from the bathroom back to bed he immediately started ranting about how he had been waiting for someone to help him. I proceeded to help him as the rant continued - and then it turned personal. I listened for 10 minutes as he told me what an awful person I was, insensitive and self important. I was a captive audience because he was definitely a fall risk and there was no way I could just leave him before he was safely back to bed. After a few minutes I told him I had enough of the personal insults but that just increased his anger. He continued on as I safely got him back to bed, set the bed alarm, and walked out. I would like to say all his insults rolled off of me and it didn't impact my day in the least. That would be a lie. All I can say is that I made it to my car before the tears started. He would have most likely said the exact same thing to anyone else who entered the room but the way I am wired, I have a hard time not taking words to heart. Something I am working on.
A similar lesson I have been learning this year is that I also take lack of words to heart. I follow word porn on social media and I swear whom ever does those posts lives inside my head. Almost everything I read from them I find myself nodding. I read this one the other day:
"You're allowed to be picky when it comes to the people you let into your mental and physical space. You're allowed to conserve your time and energy only for the people who reciprocate. Because you deserve to feel seen and heard and cared for. You deserve relationships that make you feel fulfilled and connected." - Daniell Koepke
There- I was nodding again. I TOTALLY believe this but I don't always put it into practice. Sometimes, for a moment, I forget that I matter just as much as the other person in a friendship. I have been told I am a good listener. I think it's true. But sometimes this gets me into trouble. Being an introvert and a good listener, I can get so involved with listening to someone's story that I get lost. I forget to reciprocate and share mine. Then sometimes I notice that they aren't asking about me anyway. I have started paying more attention. My job involves A LOT of people. Often I feel drained after a couple of shifts and need some time and space. Parenting also can leave me a bit drained. So, I am working on making sure the people I chose to spend my time with are people where the friendship is balanced. They care about how I am, just as much as sharing with me their well being. There are always seasons where the balance may be a bit off depending on what is going on, but as a whole, the people who I want to spend my time with treat me like I matter and hopefully I do the same for them. It's a hard lesson. I have had to distance myself from people in the past because I felt it was too one-sided. I imagine there are people that have done the same to me. But, when it works, when you find the people who reciprocate and have a balance, you know you have something good. Those are my people.
It's easy to get lost in the busyness of jobs, kids, household stuff and to forget that we are important. We matter. What we need and like to do is just as important as what the kids want to do. I have on my schedule a sunrise paddle board coming up with a friend. I am taking another friend as my date to a wedding. I only know the bride. My friend doesn't know anyone but me. I know we will have a blast anyway. She doesn't live in town so I take all the time with her I can get. She is one of my people. She sees me and loves me anyway. I could easily have said no to both these opportunities because it involved trading shifts at work and some coordination. But then I remember, I matter. I need the time to connect with my people. The people who reciprocate. Because when I do, it makes the exchanges like the one I had with the angry patient, possible. It gives me reserves to remember I am important and people love me so maybe next time, when someone who doesn't really know me tells me what an awful human being I am, I won't be affected at all.
And because I love word porn so much, one last related quote. "Find your tribe. Love them hard."
A similar lesson I have been learning this year is that I also take lack of words to heart. I follow word porn on social media and I swear whom ever does those posts lives inside my head. Almost everything I read from them I find myself nodding. I read this one the other day:
"You're allowed to be picky when it comes to the people you let into your mental and physical space. You're allowed to conserve your time and energy only for the people who reciprocate. Because you deserve to feel seen and heard and cared for. You deserve relationships that make you feel fulfilled and connected." - Daniell Koepke
There- I was nodding again. I TOTALLY believe this but I don't always put it into practice. Sometimes, for a moment, I forget that I matter just as much as the other person in a friendship. I have been told I am a good listener. I think it's true. But sometimes this gets me into trouble. Being an introvert and a good listener, I can get so involved with listening to someone's story that I get lost. I forget to reciprocate and share mine. Then sometimes I notice that they aren't asking about me anyway. I have started paying more attention. My job involves A LOT of people. Often I feel drained after a couple of shifts and need some time and space. Parenting also can leave me a bit drained. So, I am working on making sure the people I chose to spend my time with are people where the friendship is balanced. They care about how I am, just as much as sharing with me their well being. There are always seasons where the balance may be a bit off depending on what is going on, but as a whole, the people who I want to spend my time with treat me like I matter and hopefully I do the same for them. It's a hard lesson. I have had to distance myself from people in the past because I felt it was too one-sided. I imagine there are people that have done the same to me. But, when it works, when you find the people who reciprocate and have a balance, you know you have something good. Those are my people.
It's easy to get lost in the busyness of jobs, kids, household stuff and to forget that we are important. We matter. What we need and like to do is just as important as what the kids want to do. I have on my schedule a sunrise paddle board coming up with a friend. I am taking another friend as my date to a wedding. I only know the bride. My friend doesn't know anyone but me. I know we will have a blast anyway. She doesn't live in town so I take all the time with her I can get. She is one of my people. She sees me and loves me anyway. I could easily have said no to both these opportunities because it involved trading shifts at work and some coordination. But then I remember, I matter. I need the time to connect with my people. The people who reciprocate. Because when I do, it makes the exchanges like the one I had with the angry patient, possible. It gives me reserves to remember I am important and people love me so maybe next time, when someone who doesn't really know me tells me what an awful human being I am, I won't be affected at all.
And because I love word porn so much, one last related quote. "Find your tribe. Love them hard."
Thursday, July 13, 2017
My beautiful, kind Audrey
I was talking about Audrey a few weeks back and a coworker said in surprise, "You have a daughter? I thought you only had a son." Ouch. I felt like she had punched me in the gut. She was genuinely surprised and did not mean her statement to hurt. Clearly we aren't that close or she would have known about Audrey but it definitely got me to thinking. I don't want either of my kids to feel less important than the other or that they get more of my time and attention. This year was Mason's first year of high school and high school golf was a regular event for the two of us during spring. I know I talked about both quite a bit.
But, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I probably don't talk or share as much openly about Audrey right now. Audrey turns 13 this month. If you have ever been a teenage girl, you will appreciate what a tenuous time it is. Things can be especially dicey with your parents. I was a good kid. I was (still am) a rule follower and didn't give my parents much to worry about....except when I was in middle school. I became friends for a brief time with rule breakers, pushed the limits more than I had before and wasn't the kind, thoughtful kid that my parents thought they had. It was a brief period. I think I grew out of it mostly by the time I was 14 but, I am sure in the interim, I caused my parents some stress.
I can't speak to what it is like to be a pre-teen/teenage boy but I KNOW it's hard to be a girl of this age. Pressure to fit in, dress a certain way, look a certain way, have certain friends, declare yourself in a sport, etc. etc. As if the pressure wasn't enough, you get to see on social media EVERY DAY the activities that you aren't being included in. I venture to say that it is even harder to be a teenage girl now than it was when I was young.
I do talk to some people about Audrey in depth - but these tend to be the friends that also have girls at this age. We share stories, suggestions, tips. They get it when I am at work and call home to find out that Audrey may or may not be at the mall with a girl I don't really know and parents I have never met. They let me freak out for a minute and give me some space to get it all sorted out before I lose my marbles. These friends know that your teenage girl can love you one minute and think you are a close relative of the devil the next. It's like a secret society - those of us parenting teenage girls. Outsiders see our kids as angels - and they are - to everyone that doesn't share the same last name. But, we know (hopefully) it is just a passing phase. There is so much pressure at school and in the world. They put on their brave face every morning to go out and face these pressures and it takes all of their kindness and braveness to stay afloat. When they get home, to their safe place and people, they are sometimes exhausted. The kindness may be momentarily lost.
I get it even if I don't always like it. I am glad my kids are kind, caring and loving people out in this world. We need more. I also get that when they come home and feel safe and loved and let their guard down, they might snarl and be less than delightful. This age is HARD. I get frustrated but I am trying to give grace. And when I don't give grace and snarl back, I ask for grace.
SO, yes, I have two remarkable kids whom I adore. I might talk about one more at times than the other but not because I am partial to one. I love them both more than life itself and appreciate that as they grow up, some phases of their life are more for sharing than others and I am trying to honor that.
But, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I probably don't talk or share as much openly about Audrey right now. Audrey turns 13 this month. If you have ever been a teenage girl, you will appreciate what a tenuous time it is. Things can be especially dicey with your parents. I was a good kid. I was (still am) a rule follower and didn't give my parents much to worry about....except when I was in middle school. I became friends for a brief time with rule breakers, pushed the limits more than I had before and wasn't the kind, thoughtful kid that my parents thought they had. It was a brief period. I think I grew out of it mostly by the time I was 14 but, I am sure in the interim, I caused my parents some stress.
I can't speak to what it is like to be a pre-teen/teenage boy but I KNOW it's hard to be a girl of this age. Pressure to fit in, dress a certain way, look a certain way, have certain friends, declare yourself in a sport, etc. etc. As if the pressure wasn't enough, you get to see on social media EVERY DAY the activities that you aren't being included in. I venture to say that it is even harder to be a teenage girl now than it was when I was young.
I do talk to some people about Audrey in depth - but these tend to be the friends that also have girls at this age. We share stories, suggestions, tips. They get it when I am at work and call home to find out that Audrey may or may not be at the mall with a girl I don't really know and parents I have never met. They let me freak out for a minute and give me some space to get it all sorted out before I lose my marbles. These friends know that your teenage girl can love you one minute and think you are a close relative of the devil the next. It's like a secret society - those of us parenting teenage girls. Outsiders see our kids as angels - and they are - to everyone that doesn't share the same last name. But, we know (hopefully) it is just a passing phase. There is so much pressure at school and in the world. They put on their brave face every morning to go out and face these pressures and it takes all of their kindness and braveness to stay afloat. When they get home, to their safe place and people, they are sometimes exhausted. The kindness may be momentarily lost.
I get it even if I don't always like it. I am glad my kids are kind, caring and loving people out in this world. We need more. I also get that when they come home and feel safe and loved and let their guard down, they might snarl and be less than delightful. This age is HARD. I get frustrated but I am trying to give grace. And when I don't give grace and snarl back, I ask for grace.
SO, yes, I have two remarkable kids whom I adore. I might talk about one more at times than the other but not because I am partial to one. I love them both more than life itself and appreciate that as they grow up, some phases of their life are more for sharing than others and I am trying to honor that.
Thursday, June 15, 2017
The Story Behind the Lines
I almost didn't post this picture of the wonderful hike I took today. It was a great hike with a fun friend and I love how the picture captures my friend and the trail. I just don't love how I look. I looked at the photo and noticed I looked tired and didn't love those lines/wrinkles around my eyes. I was just going to post a scenery picture instead until I realized how ridiculous my assessment was.
Here's the thing - I WAS tired. I got up at 5:10 this morning because on Thursdays I don't work and Mason has the opportunity to get a golf practice with his coaches in before school. It's optional so I ask him every Wednesday night and he ALWAYS wants to go. So, we get up and go. My theory is, when a 15 year-old boy voluntarily wants to get up at 5:10 on a school day to practice something he loves, you do it if you can. I went on my hike after dropping the kids off at school and the dog at the vet.
The lines I was so critical of? Yeah...I'm 44. I have spent too much time running in the sun without enough sunscreen or a hat. I haven't done all the right lotions and anti-wrinkle creams. I have earned those lines from laughing so hard I cried and crying so hard all I wanted to do was laugh. I didn't have those lines in my 20's but I wouldn't trade where I am now for my 20's. I feel more, I love more, I am more the me I was supposed to be. So, I posted the picture.
Meera, the friend in the picture, texted me one morning a few weeks ago before 8 a.m. asking me if I wanted to go on a 14-mile hike. I asked her what day she was thinking and she told me - she meant now. Right now. I couldn't go because of previous commitments but I loved that she asked and I wished I could do it. Instead we made the date for today and had an awesome hike. I love that I have friends that will ask me spontaneously if I want to go for a 14 mile hike.
I was texting various friends the other day and it was fun to see that the people I communicate with on a fairly regular basis are of all ages. I love that I can be having a conversation with my 20-something amazing coworker who is smart, outspoken, hilarious and going to change the world of nursing, followed by a conversation with my friend who just turned 50 this year and crossed skydiving off her list this month.
I am glad I haven't been bothered by normal conventions of what a friend should look like. I would have missed many of the amazing people that have come my way. While my friends may vary widely in the decade they were born they share some common characteristics. They are kind, FUNNY, adventurous and they aren't afraid to LIVE. We talk about joys, pains, how hard teenagers are and sometimes bodily fluids (many are in the medical field).
So, yes, I have lines. I'm going to post the picture because I love that Meera and I went for a hike. I will keep saying yes to hikes, 5 am paddleboards and anything else you might want to do so don't be afraid to ask....and then don't be afraid to post the picture that shows you enjoying yourself, lines and all.
Here's the thing - I WAS tired. I got up at 5:10 this morning because on Thursdays I don't work and Mason has the opportunity to get a golf practice with his coaches in before school. It's optional so I ask him every Wednesday night and he ALWAYS wants to go. So, we get up and go. My theory is, when a 15 year-old boy voluntarily wants to get up at 5:10 on a school day to practice something he loves, you do it if you can. I went on my hike after dropping the kids off at school and the dog at the vet.
The lines I was so critical of? Yeah...I'm 44. I have spent too much time running in the sun without enough sunscreen or a hat. I haven't done all the right lotions and anti-wrinkle creams. I have earned those lines from laughing so hard I cried and crying so hard all I wanted to do was laugh. I didn't have those lines in my 20's but I wouldn't trade where I am now for my 20's. I feel more, I love more, I am more the me I was supposed to be. So, I posted the picture.
Meera, the friend in the picture, texted me one morning a few weeks ago before 8 a.m. asking me if I wanted to go on a 14-mile hike. I asked her what day she was thinking and she told me - she meant now. Right now. I couldn't go because of previous commitments but I loved that she asked and I wished I could do it. Instead we made the date for today and had an awesome hike. I love that I have friends that will ask me spontaneously if I want to go for a 14 mile hike.
I was texting various friends the other day and it was fun to see that the people I communicate with on a fairly regular basis are of all ages. I love that I can be having a conversation with my 20-something amazing coworker who is smart, outspoken, hilarious and going to change the world of nursing, followed by a conversation with my friend who just turned 50 this year and crossed skydiving off her list this month.
I am glad I haven't been bothered by normal conventions of what a friend should look like. I would have missed many of the amazing people that have come my way. While my friends may vary widely in the decade they were born they share some common characteristics. They are kind, FUNNY, adventurous and they aren't afraid to LIVE. We talk about joys, pains, how hard teenagers are and sometimes bodily fluids (many are in the medical field).
So, yes, I have lines. I'm going to post the picture because I love that Meera and I went for a hike. I will keep saying yes to hikes, 5 am paddleboards and anything else you might want to do so don't be afraid to ask....and then don't be afraid to post the picture that shows you enjoying yourself, lines and all.
Thursday, May 4, 2017
Rewriting the ending
I think most of us want the fairly tale ending - the happily ever after - whether it be related to our love, our health, our friends or our kids. I always want my patients to get better - and if that's not possible, I want them to be able to go peacefully. I want good things for my kids - good friends, amazing opportunities and, of course, for them to always make good decisions. I also believe in rainbows and unicorns.
Since most of the time I actually live in the real world, I don't always get my fairy tale endings and I have to readjust. Readjusting often means feeling the pain and learning the lesson that comes with an ending that I didn't really want.
Mason has had an awesome high school golf season. He gets to play with a good group of kids, the older kids have been welcoming, his coach is great and he gets to miss a ton of school to golf. Not a bad gig. His team played in districts on Monday and Tuesday. They needed to be one of the top four teams to advance to regionals next week. From what I gather, since Sherwood became 6A, advancing beyond districts has been elusive but this year they had a decent shot. They came into districts in third place. They were hoping to hold on and secure their spot in regionals.
Since Mondays are a day off for me, I walked with Mason the 18 holes at Stone Creek. He played well and seemed to be enjoying himself. Never one to be much of a scorekeeper, I at least had a pretty good sense that he was playing well and it was confirmed when he enthusiastically walked off the 18th hole. He has felt pressure (self-induced) to help get the seniors to state. They haven't been to state as a team and this is their last chance. Three of the five team members are seniors. I have talked to him a few times about how it isn't his job to get his team to state. It is a team - equal responsibility. And, as a freshman, that's a pretty great burden to take on. Regardless, I was happy for him that he had a round he felt good about and would help his team. I left him all smiles to find out how his teammates did and wait for the scores.
After I got home, I got a text from Mason stating that he had been disqualified. I immediately had a huge knot in my stomach, empathizing how that must feel to him when he had wanted to help his team so much. He didn't give me many details besides telling me it was a scorecard error. Knowing my extremely fast moving son, I pictured that he had seen the score, signed the scorecard carelessly and moved on too quickly only to realize the error a split second too late. No matter how it happened, I knew he must be devestated and his team disappointed that they couldn't include his score. They ended up the day 6th.
When he got home that night the truth of the situation was a little different. His scorer had read his numbers for each hole as Mason checked them against his own score. They seemed to match so Mason signed the card and turned it in. When he saw his total added and written on the board, it was one stroke off from the score he knew he had gotten from his own adding. He then went back and pulled out his filed scorecard to do a visual check. He found the discrepancy - on one hole the scorer had given him a 4 but Mason knew (and had on his scorecard) he had gotten a 5. Signing an inaccurate scorecard is a disqualification. He alerted the tournament officials knowing he would get disqualified.
Should Mason have visually checked his scorers' card against his card and not just listened to the scores? Absolutely. I like to think he won't make that mistake again. Better to learn it now than at the Masters. Did it make the blow better knowing that Mason's honesty prevailed over what he wanted for his team? Absolutely. The knot in my stomach was still there but now in addition to being sad for him, I am also proud of him.
So how did I hope this story would end? Rainbows and unicorns. He wasn't disqualified from the entire tournament so he could still play Day 2. We were all hoping the team would come out, all play well and somehow redeem the third or fourth spot to advance to regionals. And, they did all come out and play well. Mason had a bit of a rough start - I have to think the pressure he was putting on himself for redemption was probably massive, but he finished well. Unfortunately for them, all the teams ahead of them played really well too. So, they stayed in 6th and did not advance to regionals as a team. Not the fairy tale ending I would have written but we all learned something from the experience.
From what I have heard, Mason's teammates and coach handled the dq really well. They didn't place blame and felt like they all could have done more to put themselves in a better position. I imagine all of them might check their scorecards a little more carefully next time. And a surprising rainbow came out at the end - two of the seniors and Mason qualified for regionals as individuals. A handful of kids that don't qualify with their teams can qualify based on scores throughout the season and ranking. In a slightly ironic twist of fate, Mason was the last kid to make it. The 200 they gave him for the round he got disqualified definitely didn't help.
The lesson keeps giving back, as I imagine it might for some time. I am training for an upcoming race. I needed to do a 12 mile run this morning to stay on track. The sun was actually out and my legs felt fine. But, about mile 9, I had a mental block. I was just kind of over it. I paused for a minute and tried to give myself a pep talk (I don't have a lot of motivating words at mile 9). But then I thought of Mason. On Monday, Mason proved he could do hard things. Calling himself out even when it meant disappointment. Things that are way harder than running three miles. I told Mason when I dropped him off at school that I was going on a 12 mile run. How was I going to explain that I had stopped at 9 for no good reason? I wasn't. I finished the three miles. It wasn't pretty but I think I saw a unicorn at the end.
Since most of the time I actually live in the real world, I don't always get my fairy tale endings and I have to readjust. Readjusting often means feeling the pain and learning the lesson that comes with an ending that I didn't really want.
Mason has had an awesome high school golf season. He gets to play with a good group of kids, the older kids have been welcoming, his coach is great and he gets to miss a ton of school to golf. Not a bad gig. His team played in districts on Monday and Tuesday. They needed to be one of the top four teams to advance to regionals next week. From what I gather, since Sherwood became 6A, advancing beyond districts has been elusive but this year they had a decent shot. They came into districts in third place. They were hoping to hold on and secure their spot in regionals.
Since Mondays are a day off for me, I walked with Mason the 18 holes at Stone Creek. He played well and seemed to be enjoying himself. Never one to be much of a scorekeeper, I at least had a pretty good sense that he was playing well and it was confirmed when he enthusiastically walked off the 18th hole. He has felt pressure (self-induced) to help get the seniors to state. They haven't been to state as a team and this is their last chance. Three of the five team members are seniors. I have talked to him a few times about how it isn't his job to get his team to state. It is a team - equal responsibility. And, as a freshman, that's a pretty great burden to take on. Regardless, I was happy for him that he had a round he felt good about and would help his team. I left him all smiles to find out how his teammates did and wait for the scores.
After I got home, I got a text from Mason stating that he had been disqualified. I immediately had a huge knot in my stomach, empathizing how that must feel to him when he had wanted to help his team so much. He didn't give me many details besides telling me it was a scorecard error. Knowing my extremely fast moving son, I pictured that he had seen the score, signed the scorecard carelessly and moved on too quickly only to realize the error a split second too late. No matter how it happened, I knew he must be devestated and his team disappointed that they couldn't include his score. They ended up the day 6th.
When he got home that night the truth of the situation was a little different. His scorer had read his numbers for each hole as Mason checked them against his own score. They seemed to match so Mason signed the card and turned it in. When he saw his total added and written on the board, it was one stroke off from the score he knew he had gotten from his own adding. He then went back and pulled out his filed scorecard to do a visual check. He found the discrepancy - on one hole the scorer had given him a 4 but Mason knew (and had on his scorecard) he had gotten a 5. Signing an inaccurate scorecard is a disqualification. He alerted the tournament officials knowing he would get disqualified.
Should Mason have visually checked his scorers' card against his card and not just listened to the scores? Absolutely. I like to think he won't make that mistake again. Better to learn it now than at the Masters. Did it make the blow better knowing that Mason's honesty prevailed over what he wanted for his team? Absolutely. The knot in my stomach was still there but now in addition to being sad for him, I am also proud of him.
So how did I hope this story would end? Rainbows and unicorns. He wasn't disqualified from the entire tournament so he could still play Day 2. We were all hoping the team would come out, all play well and somehow redeem the third or fourth spot to advance to regionals. And, they did all come out and play well. Mason had a bit of a rough start - I have to think the pressure he was putting on himself for redemption was probably massive, but he finished well. Unfortunately for them, all the teams ahead of them played really well too. So, they stayed in 6th and did not advance to regionals as a team. Not the fairy tale ending I would have written but we all learned something from the experience.
From what I have heard, Mason's teammates and coach handled the dq really well. They didn't place blame and felt like they all could have done more to put themselves in a better position. I imagine all of them might check their scorecards a little more carefully next time. And a surprising rainbow came out at the end - two of the seniors and Mason qualified for regionals as individuals. A handful of kids that don't qualify with their teams can qualify based on scores throughout the season and ranking. In a slightly ironic twist of fate, Mason was the last kid to make it. The 200 they gave him for the round he got disqualified definitely didn't help.
The lesson keeps giving back, as I imagine it might for some time. I am training for an upcoming race. I needed to do a 12 mile run this morning to stay on track. The sun was actually out and my legs felt fine. But, about mile 9, I had a mental block. I was just kind of over it. I paused for a minute and tried to give myself a pep talk (I don't have a lot of motivating words at mile 9). But then I thought of Mason. On Monday, Mason proved he could do hard things. Calling himself out even when it meant disappointment. Things that are way harder than running three miles. I told Mason when I dropped him off at school that I was going on a 12 mile run. How was I going to explain that I had stopped at 9 for no good reason? I wasn't. I finished the three miles. It wasn't pretty but I think I saw a unicorn at the end.
Sunday, April 16, 2017
Then the Rising
It being Easter and all, the rising seems quite appropriate to talk about. If we didn't have Easter and the story of Jesus just stopped with the pain of Good Friday....I can't even imagine what that would be like. The pain of the death on the cross and Good Friday is bearable because it is followed by the rising. He came back. There is joy. There was even extra joy at my house Easter morning because both Michael and Mason gave up sweets for Lent. So, Easter morning was one big celebratory sugar rush for those two.
My soul sister and I have been talking about the rising for awhile now. This year has had some rough spots and both of us keep hoping that spring, the rising, is just around the corner. A few months back I sent her a copy of this quote I read from Glennon Doyle Melton -
"It hurts and it's painful, and then there's a waiting where you don't know what the hell is going on, and you don't think any of its gonna make sense, and then there's the rising."
The rising. If we know the rising is coming, the pain seems tolerable.
Here's the other half of that quote....
"That's the pattern always. But you have to stick around if you wanna see the rising. You gotta freaking stick around, through the pain and through the waiting. Cause if you leave you don't see it."
That's the hard part. How long do we have to stick around to see the rising? How long do we have to walk through this dark maze before we see the light? If I knew, maybe I could be more patient. Whether it be the loss of a loved one, parenting struggles, relationships struggles, the pain at times can seem intolerable...insurmountable. Today, it isn't nearly as hard to live through Good Friday because we know in three days, He rises. Easter comes. How much easier would struggles be on a timeline?
I am not sure how feeling is distributed among people but I received too much. I think when we were in line for the feeling I must have doubled back for more. The feeling....oh the feeling. Too much of that one which makes the waiting for the rising EXTRA HARD. The checker at the grocery story asked the guy in front of me what he was doing for Easter the next day. He was buying tv dinners and he was alone. Know your audience. When he said he had no plans I almost invited him to my house. Then my mom's voice and stranger danger ran through my mind. I am all for having a house full of random friends/family for holidays but the stranger from the store might be carrying it a little too far.
I had a patient at work tell me to F*** off the other day. No big deal, right? Well for this extra sensitive, extra feeling girl....big deal. Took me all afternoon to move on. So this extra feely heart/body of mine finds the sticking around and being with the pain and waiting for the rising HARD. Regardless, Easter's coming. So we keep turning the corners of the dark maze and just around a corner, the light will shine through. And then the rising.
My soul sister and I have been talking about the rising for awhile now. This year has had some rough spots and both of us keep hoping that spring, the rising, is just around the corner. A few months back I sent her a copy of this quote I read from Glennon Doyle Melton -
"It hurts and it's painful, and then there's a waiting where you don't know what the hell is going on, and you don't think any of its gonna make sense, and then there's the rising."
The rising. If we know the rising is coming, the pain seems tolerable.
Here's the other half of that quote....
"That's the pattern always. But you have to stick around if you wanna see the rising. You gotta freaking stick around, through the pain and through the waiting. Cause if you leave you don't see it."
That's the hard part. How long do we have to stick around to see the rising? How long do we have to walk through this dark maze before we see the light? If I knew, maybe I could be more patient. Whether it be the loss of a loved one, parenting struggles, relationships struggles, the pain at times can seem intolerable...insurmountable. Today, it isn't nearly as hard to live through Good Friday because we know in three days, He rises. Easter comes. How much easier would struggles be on a timeline?
I am not sure how feeling is distributed among people but I received too much. I think when we were in line for the feeling I must have doubled back for more. The feeling....oh the feeling. Too much of that one which makes the waiting for the rising EXTRA HARD. The checker at the grocery story asked the guy in front of me what he was doing for Easter the next day. He was buying tv dinners and he was alone. Know your audience. When he said he had no plans I almost invited him to my house. Then my mom's voice and stranger danger ran through my mind. I am all for having a house full of random friends/family for holidays but the stranger from the store might be carrying it a little too far.
I had a patient at work tell me to F*** off the other day. No big deal, right? Well for this extra sensitive, extra feeling girl....big deal. Took me all afternoon to move on. So this extra feely heart/body of mine finds the sticking around and being with the pain and waiting for the rising HARD. Regardless, Easter's coming. So we keep turning the corners of the dark maze and just around a corner, the light will shine through. And then the rising.
Tuesday, March 14, 2017
Blink of the eye
Today marks 25 years since my Dad died. Miss him. I can't believe so much time has passed...until I think of all that has happened in those 25 years. I graduated from college....twice. I got married, had two kids who are now both taller than I am and have two fun, adorable nephews. Time moves on whether we want it to or not.
I have been thinking about him a lot this past month with Mason starting high school golf. I have no doubt that if he was alive, he would be Mason's Saturday morning 6 a.m. golf buddy. My dad loved to golf. He wasn't serious about it like Mason but I know he would love playing with him and watching him in his tournaments. I was feeling a little sorry for myself, walking alone at Mason's first varsity tournament yesterday. I know he would have been next to me if he was still here. But then, as I looked at the wide space next to me on the path, and over at my sweet son giving me the subtle thumbs up after a good shot, I knew he was there after all.
My dad was also quite the basketball player in his day. He would have LOVED to watch his only granddaughter in her final basketball tournament last weekend where she was the leading scorer putting up 38 points in 2 games.
I see glimpses of my Dad when I am with both kids, but in particular, I see him in Mason. Both would agree that 6:45 is sleeping in on a Saturday and have/had an amazing amount of energy - especially when it comes to things they love to do. Both encompass an unmatched exuberance for life. My Dad lived his 49 years to the fullest. He couldn't sleep the night before he first took my sister and I to Disneyland because he was SO excited. I am quite sure Mason would do the same which is why we tend to spring it on him the morning of. Same was true for Christmas. Dad was the last one to bed and the first one up. I try to think of this positively as I hear Mason rustling around every Christmas at 5:45.
When he was younger, Mason would get so excited about whatever he was doing that he would often bounce up and down without even realizing it. I loved it. I am not sure when he stopped doing it but I guess it becomes less cool to jump when you are excited and a teenager. Mason reminds me of the good qualities of my Dad which has been very fun for me the past few years. His enthusiasm for life and in particular, golf, reminds me that my Dad is still with me in a legacy he left behind. I am sure there will be great joy when the two of them meet face to face...maybe even some jumping up and down and then 18 holes.
Today I will remember and be grateful for having a Dad who adored me and taught me about enthusiasm, joy and love. He was proud of me at 19 and I like to think he would be proud of me now. I will look out at Chehalem Glenn Golf Course, located behind the hospital, while I am at work and think of how much fun he had outside and, in particular, on the golf course. I will try to treat my patients and their families with extra love and kindness in his honor. I will remember that all we are guaranteed is the now so I need to live with intention and gratitude.
I have been thinking about him a lot this past month with Mason starting high school golf. I have no doubt that if he was alive, he would be Mason's Saturday morning 6 a.m. golf buddy. My dad loved to golf. He wasn't serious about it like Mason but I know he would love playing with him and watching him in his tournaments. I was feeling a little sorry for myself, walking alone at Mason's first varsity tournament yesterday. I know he would have been next to me if he was still here. But then, as I looked at the wide space next to me on the path, and over at my sweet son giving me the subtle thumbs up after a good shot, I knew he was there after all.
My dad was also quite the basketball player in his day. He would have LOVED to watch his only granddaughter in her final basketball tournament last weekend where she was the leading scorer putting up 38 points in 2 games.
I see glimpses of my Dad when I am with both kids, but in particular, I see him in Mason. Both would agree that 6:45 is sleeping in on a Saturday and have/had an amazing amount of energy - especially when it comes to things they love to do. Both encompass an unmatched exuberance for life. My Dad lived his 49 years to the fullest. He couldn't sleep the night before he first took my sister and I to Disneyland because he was SO excited. I am quite sure Mason would do the same which is why we tend to spring it on him the morning of. Same was true for Christmas. Dad was the last one to bed and the first one up. I try to think of this positively as I hear Mason rustling around every Christmas at 5:45.
When he was younger, Mason would get so excited about whatever he was doing that he would often bounce up and down without even realizing it. I loved it. I am not sure when he stopped doing it but I guess it becomes less cool to jump when you are excited and a teenager. Mason reminds me of the good qualities of my Dad which has been very fun for me the past few years. His enthusiasm for life and in particular, golf, reminds me that my Dad is still with me in a legacy he left behind. I am sure there will be great joy when the two of them meet face to face...maybe even some jumping up and down and then 18 holes.
Today I will remember and be grateful for having a Dad who adored me and taught me about enthusiasm, joy and love. He was proud of me at 19 and I like to think he would be proud of me now. I will look out at Chehalem Glenn Golf Course, located behind the hospital, while I am at work and think of how much fun he had outside and, in particular, on the golf course. I will try to treat my patients and their families with extra love and kindness in his honor. I will remember that all we are guaranteed is the now so I need to live with intention and gratitude.
Monday, February 20, 2017
Mid Life Lessons
Besides a record rainfall, February has found me attending a few yoga classes and as the owner of a new paddle board. A year ago, I would have told you neither seemed likely. The fact that I am on a yoga mat for AN HOUR is nothing short of a remarkable. I am a runner. I don't stretch before or after my runs. I realize this isn't ideal, but stretching....takes time. Never been my thing. So, when I decided to do a 30 day yoga trial I surprised even myself. The paddle board had been on my mind since loving a few outings last summer. The fact that Costco had them when I was there on Friday seemed too good to be true. So, now I own one and can hardly wait to get it out this spring.
Mason suggested that my paddle board was a "mid life crisis" purchase. I assured him that if it is a mid life crisis purchase, it is only the beginning. I'm going big for my mid life crisis. Also, based on family genes, mid life is probably a little generous at 44. My family tree suggests I hit mid life a good five years ago. When I relayed Mason's comment to my very wise friend, her response "it's not a midlife crisis, it's having children independent enough to do some things you have been putting off. Go Debra!" Man I love my friends. Truly. She is so right.
I don't know if it is a female tendency or a mom tendency, but especially during the younger kid years, moms tend to put themselves and their needs last. I don't think it even starts intentionally. It often just happens as we scramble to figure out how to raise kids, have a job, go to school, etc. etc. And then, if you are anything like me, you have this weird guilt when your kids get a little older and you start thinking about your own needs. This nagging feeling wondering if it's okay to want things for yourself - like not just clothes without holes or not to be followed into the bathroom. Things like outings with friends that don't include kids, time to take a class or the chance to sit down and read while the kids are awake. These don't even have to be big things but somewhere along the line reading a book during the day became an impossible luxury that I didn't afford myself.
Now this is on me. I can actually go on a run and leave my kids at home if that's what I need to do. My kids are old enough to entertain themselves, be at home alone and recognize me as an independent person. I can tell them I can't take them to the mall if I am in need of time with a friend. They need to see that my job is not just to be there for them but to be there for me too. It's going to take me a little while to figure this out and to stop feeling guilty about it. It's important to me that my kids understand that their wants don't always come first. I want to get this one right because it's a lesson they will take to future relationships.
High school golf starts next week for Mason. To say he is excited would be an enormous understatement. He has been waiting for high school golf for at least 10 years. I had to hide my panic as he was giving me all the details after the informational meeting. I have no idea how he will get his clubs to school EVERY DAY and get home from the golf course and driving range. My schedule makes it a little easier because I am home a few weekdays but not EVERY DAY. For a moment I did have the thought - "this would be SO much easier if I wasn't working." I think I even said it out loud. But here's the thing...we will figure this out. We always do. It will work even if it means some nights he has to hang out at the clubhouse behind the hospital until I get off from work. He will be fine. I was meant to be a nurse AND to be Mason and Audrey's mom. They aren't mutually exclusive. All the roles make me who I am and they are learning that. Life might be easier on them if I was always around in the short term but they need to see that I get to pursue my dreams too. We can all do this together. When I suggested to Mason that he needed to ask the bus driver if he could take his clubs on the bus some days, Audrey was horrified. NOBODY takes clubs on the bus. It's not a thing. Fortunately, Mason doesn't get phased by much and said, "I'll ask. I'm sure it's fine." I am sure it is too. This will work out.
So, my kids can call my paddle board and my new interest in yoga my "mid life crisis" but I think it's just me taking care of myself which can't be such a bad thing. Who knows what's next?
Mason suggested that my paddle board was a "mid life crisis" purchase. I assured him that if it is a mid life crisis purchase, it is only the beginning. I'm going big for my mid life crisis. Also, based on family genes, mid life is probably a little generous at 44. My family tree suggests I hit mid life a good five years ago. When I relayed Mason's comment to my very wise friend, her response "it's not a midlife crisis, it's having children independent enough to do some things you have been putting off. Go Debra!" Man I love my friends. Truly. She is so right.
I don't know if it is a female tendency or a mom tendency, but especially during the younger kid years, moms tend to put themselves and their needs last. I don't think it even starts intentionally. It often just happens as we scramble to figure out how to raise kids, have a job, go to school, etc. etc. And then, if you are anything like me, you have this weird guilt when your kids get a little older and you start thinking about your own needs. This nagging feeling wondering if it's okay to want things for yourself - like not just clothes without holes or not to be followed into the bathroom. Things like outings with friends that don't include kids, time to take a class or the chance to sit down and read while the kids are awake. These don't even have to be big things but somewhere along the line reading a book during the day became an impossible luxury that I didn't afford myself.
Now this is on me. I can actually go on a run and leave my kids at home if that's what I need to do. My kids are old enough to entertain themselves, be at home alone and recognize me as an independent person. I can tell them I can't take them to the mall if I am in need of time with a friend. They need to see that my job is not just to be there for them but to be there for me too. It's going to take me a little while to figure this out and to stop feeling guilty about it. It's important to me that my kids understand that their wants don't always come first. I want to get this one right because it's a lesson they will take to future relationships.
High school golf starts next week for Mason. To say he is excited would be an enormous understatement. He has been waiting for high school golf for at least 10 years. I had to hide my panic as he was giving me all the details after the informational meeting. I have no idea how he will get his clubs to school EVERY DAY and get home from the golf course and driving range. My schedule makes it a little easier because I am home a few weekdays but not EVERY DAY. For a moment I did have the thought - "this would be SO much easier if I wasn't working." I think I even said it out loud. But here's the thing...we will figure this out. We always do. It will work even if it means some nights he has to hang out at the clubhouse behind the hospital until I get off from work. He will be fine. I was meant to be a nurse AND to be Mason and Audrey's mom. They aren't mutually exclusive. All the roles make me who I am and they are learning that. Life might be easier on them if I was always around in the short term but they need to see that I get to pursue my dreams too. We can all do this together. When I suggested to Mason that he needed to ask the bus driver if he could take his clubs on the bus some days, Audrey was horrified. NOBODY takes clubs on the bus. It's not a thing. Fortunately, Mason doesn't get phased by much and said, "I'll ask. I'm sure it's fine." I am sure it is too. This will work out.
So, my kids can call my paddle board and my new interest in yoga my "mid life crisis" but I think it's just me taking care of myself which can't be such a bad thing. Who knows what's next?
Sunday, January 22, 2017
I See You
To the man I was sitting next to at church today...I see your tears. I see you subtly trying to wipe them away. I am sorry for your pain. I don't know you or what you are going through but I am standing next to you and I am feeling your pain. If I were more extroverted, I would have touched your back - but stranger touching isn't really my thing. So, instead, I prayed for you and hoped that you could feel the love I was sending your way. I hope you have people around you who can lighten your load.
I can't believe we are still in January. So much has happened and it is STILL the same month. I can't say I am a huge fan so far but I have BIG hopes for February. We have had too many snow days to count, a new school calendar developed to recover those days, a new president, millions of women and those that believe in and support them get together and march...and these are just the well publicized events. Privately, I know people who have died, lost loved ones, changed jobs and are experiencing different hardships. The hospital has been at capacity for weeks. It's been a month full of joy, excitement and pain already.
The few people in my life that have started off 2017 with more pain than seems fair are often on my mind...because this is what I was reminded of as the gentleman cried next to me in church today... pain that can be shared is sometimes just the tiniest bit easier. In my experience, when I have someone walk alongside me, even just to hold my hand because the right words are often hard, it helps to not feel so alone. Pain and grief can be soooooo lonely. For me, I have found it more bearable if I have someone willing to carry part of my load even if part of my journey means taking it back to see it through to the end. It is easier to find my way through the darkness with a friend to wear the head lamp.
I see a good amount of physical pain at work. Part of the job. Physical pain sucks, no doubt. I have never broken a bone or had chronic pain but I have worked with enough people to know it looks really miserable. I see emotional pain at work too - whether it be a family who is dealing with a loved one that has been moved to hospice, or a person who is in the hospital by themselves trying to navigate the physical aspects of their illness alone. Both are hard but oh so different. I don't have medicine I can give you for the emotional pain. The emotional pain is harder to treat. I can listen and provide support but my time with patients is generally short. My hope for them when they leave is that they have people in their life walking alongside them.
Pain and grief make many of us uncomfortable. We are afraid we will say something wrong so wonder if it is better to not say anything at all. In my experience, it is better to risk saying the wrong thing than remain silent. Even if all you can say is that you aren't sure what to say. Or to just remain physically present even when it is uncomfortable.
So, to the man at church and to my loved ones that I know are struggling right now. I see you. You aren't alone. If you want someone to hold your hand, I'm here. And, if it's not me, look for someone else around that looks like they could sit for awhile.
I still have big hopes for February.
I can't believe we are still in January. So much has happened and it is STILL the same month. I can't say I am a huge fan so far but I have BIG hopes for February. We have had too many snow days to count, a new school calendar developed to recover those days, a new president, millions of women and those that believe in and support them get together and march...and these are just the well publicized events. Privately, I know people who have died, lost loved ones, changed jobs and are experiencing different hardships. The hospital has been at capacity for weeks. It's been a month full of joy, excitement and pain already.
The few people in my life that have started off 2017 with more pain than seems fair are often on my mind...because this is what I was reminded of as the gentleman cried next to me in church today... pain that can be shared is sometimes just the tiniest bit easier. In my experience, when I have someone walk alongside me, even just to hold my hand because the right words are often hard, it helps to not feel so alone. Pain and grief can be soooooo lonely. For me, I have found it more bearable if I have someone willing to carry part of my load even if part of my journey means taking it back to see it through to the end. It is easier to find my way through the darkness with a friend to wear the head lamp.
I see a good amount of physical pain at work. Part of the job. Physical pain sucks, no doubt. I have never broken a bone or had chronic pain but I have worked with enough people to know it looks really miserable. I see emotional pain at work too - whether it be a family who is dealing with a loved one that has been moved to hospice, or a person who is in the hospital by themselves trying to navigate the physical aspects of their illness alone. Both are hard but oh so different. I don't have medicine I can give you for the emotional pain. The emotional pain is harder to treat. I can listen and provide support but my time with patients is generally short. My hope for them when they leave is that they have people in their life walking alongside them.
Pain and grief make many of us uncomfortable. We are afraid we will say something wrong so wonder if it is better to not say anything at all. In my experience, it is better to risk saying the wrong thing than remain silent. Even if all you can say is that you aren't sure what to say. Or to just remain physically present even when it is uncomfortable.
So, to the man at church and to my loved ones that I know are struggling right now. I see you. You aren't alone. If you want someone to hold your hand, I'm here. And, if it's not me, look for someone else around that looks like they could sit for awhile.
I still have big hopes for February.
Sunday, January 8, 2017
Am I Reading the Wrong Map?
I love reading Glennon Doyle Melton's books, blog and posts. She often speaks truths I feel but
1. am not sure I am daring enough to speak and
2. I wouldn't look half as good doing it.
She is funny, honest, kind and is using her superpowers for so much good. The other day she posted the following quote: "The place where you are right now, God circled on the map for you" - Hafiz. I loved the quote but was a little skeptical that Hafiz is a real person. What a name. So, I looked him up. Turns out he was a Perisian poet.
Authenticity now settled, I was thinking about that quote earlier today and wondering if God and I are reading the same map sometimes. Really....this, right now? Are you sure? What type of map are we looking at? Geographical? The food groups? Am I looking at what I am supposed to? Because SOMETIMES I'm not sure we are looking at the same thing.
I started this year strong - I know, it's only January 8 but how long can I keep this momentum up? I don't make resolutions generally. I feel like I am a continual work in progress and make commitments all through the year so making new ones on January 1 doesn't hold much significance for me. The first week of January was pretty good. I got some new wireless earbuds for Christmas that I LOVE. I'm not running faster or farther but I'm no longer getting tangled up in wires or having my earbuds fall out. So I am a happier runner. The kids are also back to school which may improve my mood on occasion. I love having them around but the lack of structure kills my type A personality at times.
I had all sorts of unexpected time this weekend thanks to the snow and ice. I was able to get Christmas all packed up and put away and I even finished cleaning out my desk that has been on my to do list for at least three years. This should make me extremely happy. I LOVE to check things off my list.
Instead I am all out of sorts. Unexpected time is not always my friend. For hyper feeling people such as myself this sometimes allows for extra time to dwell on the harsh word spoken, things I could be doing better, things I have left undone and my sweet friends I miss in India. It probably didn't help my mood that I was listening to John Legend singing about breaking my heart and came across letters that my Dad wrote me while he was alive. Phew. So, this is where I am supposed to be now? Are you sure Hawaii isn't where I am supposed to be now? That sounds much easier right at this moment.
So, I wrapped up my project, took a deep breath and texted my faithful friend Jenny who knew exactly what to say and had me laughing out loud within minutes. Where I am right now, my place on the map, feels hard at times. Parenting....really adulting in general, is HARD WORK. Sometimes we need a breather. Sometimes we need a friend like Jenny to remind us that we aren't alone and we are reading the right map - just maybe upside down. So, I am here now and tomorrow may be easier. Even if it's not, I am surrounded by love and that has to be enough.
1. am not sure I am daring enough to speak and
2. I wouldn't look half as good doing it.
She is funny, honest, kind and is using her superpowers for so much good. The other day she posted the following quote: "The place where you are right now, God circled on the map for you" - Hafiz. I loved the quote but was a little skeptical that Hafiz is a real person. What a name. So, I looked him up. Turns out he was a Perisian poet.
Authenticity now settled, I was thinking about that quote earlier today and wondering if God and I are reading the same map sometimes. Really....this, right now? Are you sure? What type of map are we looking at? Geographical? The food groups? Am I looking at what I am supposed to? Because SOMETIMES I'm not sure we are looking at the same thing.
I started this year strong - I know, it's only January 8 but how long can I keep this momentum up? I don't make resolutions generally. I feel like I am a continual work in progress and make commitments all through the year so making new ones on January 1 doesn't hold much significance for me. The first week of January was pretty good. I got some new wireless earbuds for Christmas that I LOVE. I'm not running faster or farther but I'm no longer getting tangled up in wires or having my earbuds fall out. So I am a happier runner. The kids are also back to school which may improve my mood on occasion. I love having them around but the lack of structure kills my type A personality at times.
I had all sorts of unexpected time this weekend thanks to the snow and ice. I was able to get Christmas all packed up and put away and I even finished cleaning out my desk that has been on my to do list for at least three years. This should make me extremely happy. I LOVE to check things off my list.
Instead I am all out of sorts. Unexpected time is not always my friend. For hyper feeling people such as myself this sometimes allows for extra time to dwell on the harsh word spoken, things I could be doing better, things I have left undone and my sweet friends I miss in India. It probably didn't help my mood that I was listening to John Legend singing about breaking my heart and came across letters that my Dad wrote me while he was alive. Phew. So, this is where I am supposed to be now? Are you sure Hawaii isn't where I am supposed to be now? That sounds much easier right at this moment.
So, I wrapped up my project, took a deep breath and texted my faithful friend Jenny who knew exactly what to say and had me laughing out loud within minutes. Where I am right now, my place on the map, feels hard at times. Parenting....really adulting in general, is HARD WORK. Sometimes we need a breather. Sometimes we need a friend like Jenny to remind us that we aren't alone and we are reading the right map - just maybe upside down. So, I am here now and tomorrow may be easier. Even if it's not, I am surrounded by love and that has to be enough.
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