Older and Wiser

My sister Ann and I were cruising down the highway towards Myrtle Beach last weekend, and among the many topics of conversation, aging came up. While there are advantages to getting older and hopefully wiser, anyone with a little age on her has to have noticed some subtle but certain physical changes.

Like for instance, I used to love wearing turtleneck sweaters, especially black ones from the Gap. In fact, I’d say that for several years jeans and a black turtleneck was my signature ensemble. Then a couple of years or so ago, something looked wrong, and after staring at my image for several moments, I figured it out: it was my neck and chin. Alas, a sagging chin and steadily wrinkling neck were the culprits. Vanity, thy name is woman! What did I do? Why, I changed clothes of course, and I’ve never donned a turtleneck since.

There are other changes too. Eyes get all crinkly and wrinkly around the edges. Skin loses elasticity and sags. Collagen is in shorter supply too. Yes, I know I could take care of many of these things with a few thousand dollars and a surgeon’s knife. But will I? It’s not too likely. It would hurt like heck, and besides I have better uses for my money right now. Think:  grandchildren, traveling, beach house, and so on. Sister Ann feels the same way.

What we decided is to try to appreciate the way we look now because we know beyond a shadow of a doubt that things are going to get a lot worse.  We just wish we’d appreciated being youthful in appearance when we were younger babes.

On Friday,  I leafed through Oprah magazine and came across a short piece that stopped me in my tracks. No more whining or lamenting lost youth and firm chins. On the last page of the magazine (this month’s, I think), there was a photograph of Oprah walking along with a woman who had a veil over her face. Oprah had her hand on the woman’s arm as if guiding her along.  The woman’s name was Charla, and she was mauled by a 200 pound chimpanzee last year. According to the article, the EMTs who responded to the call didn’t even recognize her face as a face; it was that ravaged by the chimp. She’s blind and has one finger, a thumb.  Still, she enjoys the marvelous feeling of the sun on her face, and Oprah was taking her for a walk so that she could feel the warmth of the sun.

Are you thinking what I’m thinking? I’m thinking that if I ever whine about wrinkles, sags, or tired eyes again, I need someone to slap me…hard.  I don’t have to cover up with a veil when I go out, and though I look much older than I used to, I feel fortunate to have eyes to allow me to see that for myself. Plus, these eyes can see the dear faces of loved ones, birds in flight, colors, words, and Christmas lights.

Life is good. I’m thinking that maybe I’ll see if I can find a black turtleneck hiding in a drawer somewhere and put it on.  If I can’t find one, maybe one of my children or my sweet hubby will read this and buy one for me…must be from the Gap, however.  I’ll wear it with humility and think of Charla.

It’s Your Choice

Below is a slightly revised version of a blog I posted on the college psychology blog last week. It’s http://psychcentral.wordpress.com in case you want to check it out. Anyway, the students seem to have really enjoyed it, and so I thought I’d redo it for one of my personal blogs. The post is about change and how difficult it can be. Many people would rather whine or wallow in self-pity than take steps to change their lives, but as 2009 comes to an end, maybe now’s a good time for a step forward.

I’ve been listening to 50 Self-Help Classics by Tom Butler-Bowdon in my travels back and forth to work every day, and I’ve picked up tons of useful information. While time prohibits my going into more than just a cursory look at these classics, today I thought I’d briefly bring up the Bible. Yep, the Bible. Although I often turn to the scriptures for solace, inspiration, wisdom, and guidance, I haven’t really thought of the Bible as a “self-help” book like Peale’s The Power of Positive Thinking or Allen’s As a Man Thinketh.

 Remember the Old Testament story about Moses leading the Israelites out of Egypt? It’s one of the most well-known stories in the Bible, maybe because of Charlton Heston’s starring role in The Ten Commandments.  Anyway, according to Butler-Bowdon, one of the things we can learn from the exodus from Egypt for the Promised Land is that people can change their lives. They don’t have to live in servitude, getting beaten by guards or building pyramids in the hot sun. In the book, Butler-Bowdon says that the exodus is the prototype for all social change, including the Civil Rights Movement in the United States. The moment I read that, a light switch came on as I thought, “Oh yeah, I can see that.” I can also see that because of Martin Luther King and others of that decade, many changes were set in motion that continue to have influence today.

Whether group or individual, people can walk right through the Red Sea towards a better life. If Rosa Parks had given up her seat, millions of people might still be stuck in Egypt or its equivalent. You, like Rosa and other brave souls, might have to wander around in the desert for a while, but hopefully it won’t be for 40 years. You might even have to sacrifice some security and comforts of life while subsisting on manna from heaven, figuratively speaking.

Still, change is possible. The life you’re living at this moment can improve for the better IF you are willing to take the first step. It might not be easy, but do you want to spend the rest of your life building someone else’s pyramids and living in slavery?

Thanksgiving in Myrtle Beach

Thanksgiving at K & W

Yesterday was one of the most different and yet wonderful Thanksgivings I’ve had. For the first time, my sweet husband and I spent the day apart, not because of rancor or ill will but because of prior commitments and, well, the longing to be with different family members. We’re with his family quite often, but I seldom get to spend time with mine, especially my children. That said, he spent Thanksgiving with his parents and beaucoup other family members, and I spent it in Myrtle Beach with one of my brothers and his family and my daughter Elizabeth. My brother Mike just successfully won a battle with the BIG C, and I felt like celebrating with him and his family.

Here’s what we did. Mrs. Mitchell, Lisa’s mother, and I watched part of the Macy’s parade on television, something I recall doing with my father and siblings when we were kids. My mother was undoubtedly slaving away in the kitchen, but we didn’t know that; we just knew that it was BIG fun to watch all the inflated characters, the dancers, and the floats. Last year I was excited to go to Herald Square and see the exact spot in front of Macy’s where parade performances are filmed.

Lib arrived, and the six of us went to K & W with hundreds of other Thanksgiving diners. Despite the fact that (or maybe because) the line snaked around several times before we even got to the serving line, it was actually quite a memorable and upbeat experience to  stand in line in the crowded lobby with our fellow Americans. Seated, we held hands and said a prayer of Thanksgiving for our many blessings and the scrumptious food before us. Lisa, Mrs. Mitchell, and I all agreed that it was the most stress-free Thanksgiving meal that we could remember in a long, long time…probably since we were children.

Appetites sated, we went to Mrs. Mitchell’s beach house to make our traditional Thanksgiving craft. This year, it was a Christmas wreath whose directions I had seen in a a book (where else?). As an aside, I think I left that book in a buggy in the Michael’s parking lot on Two Notch Road.  Back to this fascinating narrative, we even glued some shells from the Outer Banks on the wreaths to make them especially special. Not as into the craft thing as the older ladies, Elizabeth and Sarah Beth made a quick run to Old Navy before fashioning their wreaths.

The younger set went their separate way(s), and the rest of us went to see The Blind Side with a couple hundred other people. Hands down, it was one of the best movies I’ve ever seen and was especially appropriate for a holiday like Thanksgiving. The only downer was that the ticket person gave me a Senior discount without me even asking for it! Oh well, it saved me fifty cents. Afterwards, we strolled around Market Commons and then went back to Mrs. Mitchell’s for turkey sandwiches and soup, both of which we enjoyed while watching Chevy Chase and a hilarious cast of characters in Christmas Vacation.

Tired but happy, I went back to my little bungalow to find Elizabeth and her friend Carla hanging out and planning their strategy for a 3:00 a.m. shopping trip. We talked and laughed a while before I bid them adieu and settled down “for a long winter’s nap” of seven hours.

It’s Friday morning now, and I’m enjoying the promise of possibilities for a day at the beach. Maybe a little shopping and then a little shell collecting? Hmmm. I think I might read some too. Oh, and I’m way overdue on some notes that I need to write. Will I do school work? Probably. It goes with the territory when you teach online courses. Still, a good time was had by all. Although I missed DH, we talked by phone every couple of hours, and I know he had a fun time too. And to top it off, today he gets to go back to the woods the woods the woods the woods.

On a final note, my sister and I often talk about how there’s good and bad going on in everyone’s life all the time, and I was reminded of that yesterday. On the plus side, Mrs. Mitchell asked me to call her Doris, a compliment and a milestone. On the negative side, Paul said he and Amanda couldn’t meet me in Augusta on Saturday. On the plus side, Lib and Carla had a great time during the wee hours of the morning and are now sacked out in the living room. On the negative side, my sister Ann won’t be coming today after all. On the plus side, she and her husband have tickets for the Clemson/Carolina game tomorrow. On the negative side, there’s loss, heartache, illness, despair, and evil on Planet Earth. On the plus side, God’s in His heaven, and we have all been recipients of His beneficence.

Have a great Thanksgiving weekend, Everyone! Be safe…and find some bargains too.

Making Deposits

 

While I’m no expert on marriage and family relations, I do know a few things from experience, observation, and research that contribute to successful relationships. One particular concept that’s on my mind today is Stephen Covey’s emotional bank account. My husband and I discussed this before we got married, and we’re still referring to it. Why? Because it works.

A simple but revolutionary idea, the emotional bank account works pretty much like a bank account at a financial institution.  If I want to use my debit card, I have to make regular deposits to my account. I also have to make sure that the money in my account is sufficient to cover all withdrawals; otherwise, I’ll be overdrawn and have to pay a huge overdraft fee. Naturally, I don’t like that so I keep a close watch on my expenditures.

The idea of deposits and withdrawals works exactly the same in interpersonal relationships. This is so simple to see, and yet sometimes emotions like anger or resentment or plain old selfishness get in the way of our vision. Often we get so caught up in what we want when we want it that we can’t see the dynamics that are going on.  “Me-ness” runs rampant.

While everyone has a different idea of what constitutes a deposit, sincere compliments, hugs, acts of service, and common courtesies can make everyone stand a little taller.  Is it really that hard to say, “You look great,” or to iron your husband’s shirt (or your wife’s blouse)?  These are little things, and yet I’m convinced that in relationships, the little things are the big things.  Apologizing when you’ve hurt or disappointed someone can actually be a deposit. So can occasionally doing things you don’t really enjoy like accompanying your sweetie to an event that’s important to him. Not because you like basketball games or church socials but because you love the person.

Deposits are important because sooner or later you’re going to make a withdrawal, usually unintentionally.  Sometimes it’s something little like forgetting to pick up the dry-cleaning, and sometimes it’s a doozy like forgetting an anniversary. At times like these, you need to make sure your account is still solvent.

Not long ago my daughter Carrie was putting some clothes that her husband Rich had washed into the dryer when she began to notice stains that hadn’t been Shouted out, and now the tiny shirts were ruined for good. Plus, Rich had used hot water, and some dark clothes had faded on some white ones. She began to get exasperated and downright angry as she thought, “How hard would it have been to pick up the Shout and spray it on Emma’s shirt? And why couldn’t he reach up and change the water temperature to warm?” Still fuming, she then began to remember all of the wonderful things Rich did for the children and her every single day.  Before her laundry experience was over, she was feeling grateful again, and their relationship was “in the chips.” If Rich had not consistently made deposits, her anger could have escalated to the point that she’d have been really irritated and critical.

 A friend of mine used to call this “piling up your chips.” Call it what you like. Just do it. Just make some deposits and see what happens.

Outer Banks Part II

After a tossing turning night of fitful sleeping, I was already awake when our alarm went off at 5:00 a.m. last Sunday morning. We quickly dressed and headed downstairs to grab a banana and juice on our way out of the hotel and onto to Kitty Hawk. Much to our surprise and pleasure, the hotel management had prepared bagged breakfasts for all race participants. It’s those little things that mean a lot to customers, and we both heartily recommend the Hampton Inn in Corolla, NC for anyone visiting the area.

We rode through the predawn darkness down a long, narrow, two-lane road surrounded by some sort of dense vegetation. It was spooky but nice, especially when coupled with the anticipation of what was ahead. By the time we left the two-lane road for the four lane one leading into the more populated areas of Kitty Hawk and Nag’s Head, the traffic was already becoming quite congested. DH dropped me off at the race start on Memorial Drive and headed out to meet our sister-in-law Becky. 

The pre-race moments are always awesome. It’s something I can’t explain. Listening to the banter around me, I love picking up snippets of conversation. There’s always a feeling of tense excitement—love it. I walked over to look at the beach and was delighted to see so many photo shoots going on. Fun. After that, I stretched a little and sort of ambled about amongst the crowd. To no avail, I looked for my brother and his son. Never did spot them, probably because they were in what was dubbed the first “corral,” and I was in the last. Then there’s the fact that there were 3500 people mingled there.

Time passed, and I heard the strains of the National Anthem over a loud speaker. The crowd grew hushed, and everyone turned to face a small flag flying from a beach house. It was an emotional moment, and I felt so thankful to be there with my “fellow Americans” to participate in a event that would take place at the absolute edge of our continent.

The gun fired three times before the slow pokes like me in the third corral were allowed to take off. I don’t have time or energy to write about all my thoughts, observations, or impressions of the morning. Suffice it to say that they were all good. Sure I was tired. Sure I thought I’d NEVER get over that darned bridge crossing over to Manteo. But still, it was memorable, every single mile.

Okay, some quick recollections include:

• The way the entire community came out to support us with water, Gatorade, cheers, and enthusiasm. Even within the neighborhoods, people stood in their yards, some dressed in costumes. The most original group included some people dressed in black and white “chain gang” outfits holding signs warning that dropouts would be put in the stockade or forced to walk the gangplank. I needed a good laugh about that time.  In one driveway, I saw a little boy with a parrot next to him. Cool.
• The awesome splendor of the beautiful day. Sunny but not hot. Cool but not cold. Breezy but not overly so. And everywhere I looked, it was blue blue blue blue blue. It was one of those mornings that makes you think, “God’s in his heaven; all’s right with the world.”
• The variety of people I passed and who passed me.  Young, old, in-between, skinny, chubby…you name it, they were there. One man with whom I paced myself was wearing a t-shirt that said, “Growing old is inevitable; growing up is optional.” Nice motto.
• The little signs along the way that kept you moving along to see what was next.  One of my favorites was, “What do you call a fat chimpanzee?” 100 yards later, there was the answer: “A chunky monkey.
• The well-marked route and the numerous water stops.
• The local hospital and its clean restroom facilities.
• Listening to my iPod. A week later, I’m remembering Barbra Streisand’s “Woman in Love” as I finally came out of the last neighborhood before getting to the bridge.
• Coming into the last stretch listening to “Sweet Inspiration” when my brother David came sidling up to finish part of the last leg with me.
• FINISHING at last and getting two bottles of water and a peanut butter sandwich. There were bagels, bananas, apples, and oranges too.

After soaking up the atmosphere and taking some pictures, we made our way back to the car. Problem. We couldn’t leave. The car was parked right near the finish which was good, and yet it faced the road where the walkers and runners were still coming in. Becky, John, and I sat in the car while David turned lemons into lemonade by cheering the finishers who passed in front of us. Otis went over to talk to the policeman about helping us get out when there was a gap in the finishers. I got out of the car to take some more pictures of the finish line and of the lovely town of Manteo.

FREE AT LAST, we freshened up and dined together before heading in separate directions. They had an hour and a half drive in front of them. We, on the other hand, had around seven. It was a long, long way home, and yet I have to admit that parts of the trip were pretty memorable. Like when he asked me to sing “Amazing Grace,” and then after two verses asked if we could listen to tunes on my iPod. That’s when the fun really began because we sang to most of the songs, and man did we belt it out!

Tuckered out, we arrived in good old Camden around 10:00 p.m., and I think a good time was had by all. Will we go back? I don’t know about the “we” part, but I will. It’s too beautiful of an area and too grand of an event not too. Maybe you can join me next year. At least think about it.

Outer Banks Arrival

This time last week, DH and I were already on the way to the Outer Banks for the OBX Marathon and Half Marathon. Although I LOVED every moment of the weekend, I can truthfully say that I’m content to stay right around town this weekend. Getting to and from the destination was a bit of a marathon adventure in and of itself. How many times have you been in a car for 15 hours??? As much as we enjoy each other’s company, after a while we felt a little cuckoo.

But I digress. The purpose of this blog post is to share a few highlights of the trip and spotlight some of the cool attractions of the Outer Banks area. Never having been there, I was like a kid in a candy store. For someone like me who loves a beach no matter where it is, I was in heaven. No matter where we were, there was water and sand. At some points, I could see it on both sides of us. Divine.

After a few stops, one for the best boiled peanuts we’ve ever tasted, we finally arrived in Nag’s Head around 3:00, and after many consultations with Jill on our GPS, we located the EXPO. Talk about high energy! Wow, I loved the atmosphere of the place. Everywhere you looked, there were locals dressed like pirates and other seafaring folks, and everyone seemed to be friendly and in a good mood. We picked up the race packets for me, my brother, and my nephew, and then we did a little shopping. My sweet husband bought me a race poster, and he convinced me to get a long sleeved shirt “in case” the weather changed. Good thing he’s so persuasive because what I bought was perfect for Sunday’s event.

Our room was in Corolla, a little town/village/hamlet just slightly north of Duck, NC. Can you believe there’s a town called Duck? There is…and it has a lot of charm too. One day I hope to return and shop in some of those quaint little shops and eat in one of the restaurants. On the way to Duck and Corolla, we passed through Kill Devil Hills and Kitty Hawk, and I could see the Wright Brothers Memorial and also the biggest sand dune on the east coast. It was awesome to see. Next time I’m going to get out and walk on it. Locals say that there’s a miniature golf course buried beneath it.  All along our way north, I enjoyed looking at the storefronts and local attractions. While they were the same as probably any other tourist area (there was even a Wings), they didn’t seem so garish and “in your face.”

It was dark when we arrived at the Hampton Inn in Corolla, one of the nicest places where I’ve ever stayed. From the shell exhibit in the lobby to the soft towels in the bathroom, everything was Nice with a capital N. A definite plus was having WiFi. We freshened up and went out for a bite to eat. I can’t remember the name of the restaurant, but that’s a good thing because I couldn’t recommend it, and I don’t want to berate it. Let’s just say it was overpriced and barely adequate.

On Saturday morning after a scrumptious breakfast in the Hampton Inn dining area, I went for a walk on the beach. Awesome. It was sooooo beautiful, and I felt so exuberant and upbeat that I soon lost track of time. I was so into the exhilarating beauty and experience of it all that I walked 20 minutes or more beyond where I knew I was supposed to stop. Let me explain. The beaches there have HIGH sand dunes, and even if you walked up the steps of the accesses to get your bearings, all you’d see is beach house after beach house. They all looked alike. About this time, my husband called to check on me, and when I confessed that I didn’t know where I was or how far away, he gave me some great directions. “Walk towards the sun,” he said. Good advice anytime, but especially that morning.

After my walk and shell collecting, we headed to Nag’s Head where we met my brother David and his family.  The five of us spent the rest of the day getting caught up and taking in the sights. We went to Manteo to see where the race would end the next morning, and we ended up visiting a church bazaar where Becky, my sister-in-law, bought a denim vest for only $2.  We both love sweet deals like that. We decided to dine at Big Al’s, and that was a wise decision. The atmosphere was upbeat, and the food was fantastic. Plus, there were other marathon participants in there, and it’s always fun to exchange “war stories.”

Fortified by our French fries and sandwiches, we strolled through the quaint waterside shops of Manteo. I fell in love with that little community and hope to visit again someday.  We met some colorful characters, including a dog who was “working” in one of the shops. I’ve been on a sea glass search for the last couple of months, and Becky and I found an artist who collected it and made jewelry from it.  She also explained why it’s so hard to find these days. People use more plastic and other disposable materials now, so there simply isn’t as much glass being thrown overboard into the ocean. Plus, there are more people (like yours truly) who are searching for it, thus making it more scarce.

Leaving Manteo, we headed for Nag’s Head to do some shopping at a Tanger Outlet. I got some Christmas bargains, and Becky and I enjoyed looking at the beautiful orange sunset over the water. Shopping and browsing complete, we shared light refreshments before separating for the evening.

This post has gone on much too long, and I’m not even to the BIG EVENT yet.  It’s so important and memorable that it deserves a post of its own.

Marathon Preparation

I’ve been “in training” for the Outer Banks Half-Marathon for the past couple of months, and as a result, I’ve been reminded of lots of truisms about exercise. By the way, I put quotation marks around “in training” because I’m certain that my training and that of SERIOUS participants is quite different. Some people get out there and push themselves to the wall (whatever that means) for miles and miles and hours and hours. Me? Well, I’ll tell you in the following tips.

• Just do it. Excuses don’t cut it when race day comes, so get up off the couch, lace up your shoes, and head out the door. I recently jotted down this quote overheard at a talk in church: “The will to win is nothing without the will to prepare.”
• About the just doing it, they say you only need 30 minutes of exercise four or five times a week. For those of you who can’t afford 30 minutes at a stretch, then break it up into smaller segments. That works too; something’s better than nothing.
• Listen to your body. I’ve said this to my children and friends so much that they’re probably sick of it. Still, if something hurts, that’s a message from your body to you. Take a day off…or at least slow down. That “no pain, no gain” slogan is for the birds. Maybe, just maybe, you can do that on race day, but if you have a stress injury or torn ligament, then there might not be a race day.
• Pace yourself. If you know that you have six miles to cover one afternoon, don’t go out like a speed demon. Start slowly and then gain some momentum. My first husband once gave me some excellent advice that I’ve never forgotten. “Work on distance first…and then on speed.”  Saturday morning I walked 11 miles, and now that I know I can go the distance, maybe I’ll hustle a little faster on Sunday morning.
• Conserve as much energy as possible. While this is sort of like the above advice, it’s sort of not. One of my brothers, the one who’ll be participating in the OBX Half-Marathon with me (ahead of me), once told me that when he had to travel a long way, he barely lifted his feet, almost shuffling.
• Get the right shoes. On the recommendation of Anna, my nephew’s wife, I bought some ASICS with gel. So far, so good. I’ve also learned that just the right socks are important too. They can’t be too thin or too thick, but since this is an individual preference, you’ll have to experiment for yourself. It’s amazing the difference that the correct footwear can make.
• Just keep going. Don’t quit. In 1997, I participated in a Team-in-Training Marathon for the Leukemia Society. Each participant raised over $3,000, and about 45 of us flew from Myrtle Beach to Anchorage, Alaska. My daughter Carrie and her friend Michelle were probably the least prepared of all the participants, but they did it. They finished the entire 26.2 miles, and they did it by taking one step at a time.
• Keep the can-do attitude. When training for the above event, a motivational speaker once came to speak to our group. One of the many things she told us was that after the event, we’d be tired, aching, hungry, and sore. However, she said, “After a nice warm shower and a good night’s rest, you’ll be good to go. Some of the patients you’re raising money for will never have that experience.” That was a sobering thought, and I’ve never forgotten its impact.
• As the BIG DAY approaches, I find myself thinking all sort of “what if” things. What if I don’t sleep the night before? What if I’m the last one to finish? What if I can’t do it? At such moments, I think of a great psychological concept, self-efficacy. In a nutshell, it refers to a person’s belief about whether he or she can accomplish something. Once self-doubt creeps in, you’re done. If you think you can’t, you’re right. You can’t. You might as well quit right then and save yourself the embarrassment of doing it later. On the other hand, if you think you can, then you can. I can.  Yes, there will be discomfort and the recurrent thoughts about why I let David talk me into doing it, but I can and will do this thing.

Hey, and guess what? You could too. Dick’s Sporting Goods has quite a selection of shoes.

Counting Blessings

Is it possible to have a crossover between psychology and religion? By jove, I think it just might be. In reading 50 Psychology Classics by Tom Butler-Bowden, I’ve discovered some happiness hints by Barry Schwartz. In addition to limiting your choices, Dr. Schwartz advises his readers to make their decisions irreversible and to constantly appreciate the lives they have.

It’s the appreciation concept that grabbed me.  Even downward comparisons that remind of us how fortunate we are compared with many others can be a boost to self-esteem and overall feelings of well-being. Instead of saying something like, “If only I had a newer, snazzier car,” instead say, “I’m so glad I have a car that gets me where I need to go. Lots of people in the world aren’t so fortunate.” Schwartz contends that not only are grateful people are happier and optimistic but they are also healthier.  I’m all for that!

So on this cool, overcast November afternoon, I’m thinking of the multitudinous things for which I am grateful. Dr. Schwartz’s advice was reinforced by reminders from church this morning, including the closing song in Relief Society, “Count Your Blessings.” Then there’s always Alma’s reminder to “Live in Thanksgiving daily.” Actually, there are beaucoup scriptural reminders of the importance of expressing gratitude; I just happen to like Alma’s.

While I’m usually pretty good at this anyway, this month I’m going to focus on the good in my life, ALL of it. In no particular order, here are a few things I’m especially thankful for today. I’m going to start with a dozen. Maybe you can add a few of your own.

*Living at this time in our history. I don’t think I’d be nearly so happy without indoor plumbing and electricity.
*My sweet, thoughtful, talented husband.
*My children and their spouses. Though I’ve read that pride is the universal sin, I can’t help it. I’m proud of the lives they’re living and the choices they’re making.
*My precocious precious grandchildren. Yes, I’m biased, and I hope you don’t have a problem with that.
*Family, including my sibs and their spouses and children. All of my in-laws and stepchildren are huge blessings too.
*Laughter. I laughed so hard at something 2-year-old Emma said the other evening that I was nearly crying. It ’s not so much what she was saying as it was her expressiveness.
*Music. All kinds. Right now I’m listening to Wanda Johnson, a blues singer that my friend Connie introduced me too.
*Friends, old and new. They have no idea how they’ve enriched my life, even the online ones.
*Health. God willing and the creek don’t rise, my brother David and I will be participating the OBX Half Marathon next weekend.
*My job and the many opportunities it provides.
*Mother Nature. Love those leaves and the cool temps.
*A loving Heavenly Father who so generously provided the above and much, much more.

Daddy

It’s hard to believe that it’s been 11 years since my father died, but it has. Having suffered with emphysema and chronic lung disease for years, he died early on the morning of October 19, 1998. It was Sunday. My brother Mike called around 5:00 a.m. to let me know that the end was nigh so Carrie and I quickly dressed and headed for Camden. We stopped for gas at what used to be called Jimmy Carter’s between Florence and Aynor, and that’s when and where I got the news. I NEVER ride by there without thinking about how I felt when my sister Ann told me.  I just couldn’t believe that I had missed his last moments.

This isn’t a post about his death but rather about his life and his lasting legacy. Every day of their lives my parents showed by word and deed how a person was supposed to live. They weren’t perfect, of course. No one is. But at the same time I can honestly say that I daily express gratitude for the examples they set and the sacrifices they made. They loved the four of us and their grandchildren very much.  Even when he was his sickest, he’d always made sure to shower and shave and dab on some Aqua Velva if he knew any of us were coming. I loved that.

John Marlon was tall, dark, and handsome. And yes, I definitely am more than a little biased, but even my daughter Elizabeth frequently says, “Mom, Granddaddy Padgett looked like a movie star. Even my friends think so.” Looks fade, but character remains, and until the end, he was honest and dependable. 

Somewhat eccentric, especially in his later years, we never knew what he was going to think of next…or to say. I well recall when he got on a chaos theory jag and wanted to share his ideas with all of us. I finally said something like, “Daddy, I’m too busy thinking about laundry, meal preparation, and soccer practice to even try to understand the definition, much less delve into its concepts.” He seemed to accept that. I think he felt a little sorry for me, but I don’t know whether it was because of my working mother role or because he thought I was too dense to grasp chaos theory.

Time is short, and I really need to get busy with work. After all, he and my mother taught us all about the Protestant work ethic, and I feel certain that he might disapprove of my using work time to write a tribute to him. I just want to say that I miss him…a lot, especially today. I miss having someone in my corner who would always listen to my ideas no matter how far out they were. He’s the only person in my family who understood my conversion to the LDS faith. Or rather, he was the only one who wasn’t upset or judgmental about it. He knew his eldest child was not (and is not) flighty and fickle, that she investigates things fully before taking a course of action.

Better get to work. By the way, the pictures above don’t do him justice, but they’re the only ones I have on my desktop at work.

Hendersonville Travelogue

It’s official. This year I’m really a hunting widow.  DH frequently says, “When I retire, I’ll go anywhere you want to go because then I’ll be able to hunt during the week and have the weekend free for whatever you want to do.” Yeah right.

Never a person to sulk (at least not for long), I decided that I could either wait on him or begin going and doing NOW. Actually, I’ve always been somewhat of a solo act in some ways because I realized early in my life that I’d never get to go anywhere or see anything if I waited for someone else. Hence, yesterday  my sister-in-law Lisa and I went to Hendersonville for a day of shopping, dining, and apple buying. Although the leaves were still mostly green, the weather was bone chilling (I kid you not), and it was a perfect day for mountain travel.

We left Blythewood a little after 7:00 a.m., and with no men along, we agreed that we were going to concentrate on the journey and not the destination. You ladies out there know exactly what I’m talking about, right? On the outskirts of Spartanburg, Lisa mentioned that she and my brother had memorized where all of the Starbucks locations were along the road. She said it so longingly that I knew she wanted to stop, so naturally I encouraged her to. We got to Barnes and Noble outside of Spartanburg a few minutes after it opened, and while she got her Starbucks drink, I searched for this month’s book club selection (Moloka’l by Alan Brennert) and bought a couple of gifts. Then we noticed a nearby TJ Maxx and decided to take a quick walk-through. How could we not with it being right there and all?  Do I need to tell you how my husband and brother would have reacted to this side trip???

Back in the car and on the interstate, we saw the first glimpse of the mountains almost right away. It’s always a kick. It wasn’t long before we arrived in Hendersonville, and the Curb Market was our first stop. People from nearby communities bring jams, jellies, baked goods, plants, jewelry, pictures, and other merchandise to sell there, and Lisa and I bought some damson plum jam and pumpkin brownies. I also bought the beautiful wreath above. From there we visited a huge antique mall, a consignment shop called Two Chicks, and the Mast General Store. We LOVE that place, and yesterday we browsed through the crowded store sipping hot apple cider with dozens and dozens of other shoppers. After devouring burgers and chips at  Mike’s on Main  (lots of ambience) and a brief visit to McFarlan’s Bakery, we headed to the Sky Top Apple Orchard.

Lisa and Mike’s Camry wound its way to the top of the mountain in Zirconia where we were fortunate to find a parking place. As we walked towards the huge open-air  facility, we saw a long, long line of people waiting for hot donuts. I found that somewhat amusing: the crisp healthy apples juxtaposed to the not so healthy hot donuts. We bought some Winesap, Gala, Fuji, and Cameo apples after checking the place out. There was hot caramel for apple dipping, a dozen or more varieties of apples, apple slice samples, hot cider, hundreds of jars of jams and jellies, and a variety of cake and muffin mixes.

Shivering, we finally made our purchases and headed down the mountain. Somehow we missed our exit and ended up in a little hamlet called Tuxedo. The men would have had a stroke, but we loved our little side trip around the lake. I can’t help but think of how it must feel to wake up every day with the lake on one side of your house and the mountains on the other.

We arrived at Lisa and Mike’s house at 7:35, allowing me just enough time to change and freshen up before meeting DH at the Voice Male concert. It was awesome, the perfect ending to a perfect day. I’m still awed at their talents. “The Shadow of Your Smile” was probably my favorite, but then the chipmunk thing was good too. And so was the “choreography,” if you can call it that. Amazing!

So what’s the point of the above rambling? It’s to remind you (and me too!) that the world’s a great, big beautiful place, and we can either sit around and talk about how we’re going to do this and that SOMEDAY, or we can just do it. Also, when on a trip, we need to enjoy every moment of it, even the side excursions. And finally, even when you’re really tired and just want to go home, add the icing on the cake, that last little event that tops off.