WORDS TO LIVE BY

People of a certain age (i.e. me) are finally beginning to recognize the beauty of slowing down and enjoying life at a less hurried, hectic pace. Unfortunately, some of us came to that realization late in life (i.e. me again). Sometimes, we retire from our 8-5 life. Other times, it may be our health that requires a change in our frantic pursuit of whatever we imagine success to look like. Regardless of the reason, it appears the season of respite and renewal is upon us. I, for one, am all for it!

For the past three years, I’ve read The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry by John Mark Comer as a primer for the year ahead. I highly recommend that book. There’s a little bit of “God stuff” mentioned, but please don’t let that deter you. There is endless wisdom contained in this jewel of a manuscript.

The author suggests four practices for unhurrying life:

1. Silence and Solitude – create silence in your life (and maybe dedicate a space in your home for it). Get comfortable with it. Practice it. Cherish it. Rinse and repeat. I’m reminded of a phrase, ‘There’s a big difference between being alone and being lonely, and most people are afraid to be alone.’

2. Sabbath – The word literally means ‘to stop.’ Stop working, stop shopping, spending, scrolling, just stop. The Sabbath does not have to be a particular day; just choose a day to unplug and unhurry. And if a whole day is asking too much, consider Shabbating for half a day, or an hour, or 10 minutes. Some Shabbating is better than no Shabbating.

3. Simplicity – The recent episode of The Problem With Perfect podcast focused on contentment. (It’s well worth listening to, if I do say so myself.) Simplicity and contentment seem to be kissing cousins. Although there will always be better, new, fancier – it’s questionable whether any of that will bring contentment. Living simply, choosing time and relationships over things, and focusing on gratitude may well result in a simpler, more fulfilling life. Try it; you might like it.

4. Slowing is the final practice, and it incorporates all of the above. Take a breath, take a beat, take a break, take a walk. Spend a few minutes every day unhurrying your life; it really is that simple. No money is required, and even 5 minutes spent simply in silence and solitude is beneficial. You can thank me later.

If you know me, you know I love football. OTAs, preseason, regular season, postseason, I watch it all. For many years, I was only interested in NFL games. One whole day of football was enough. Then the NFL started having games on Monday, Thursday, and Saturday. It’s hard to have a life outside of football season. I’ve even been known to record really exciting games and rewatch them when the season is over, and there’s nothing on television but golf; I’d rather watch paint dry.

When my son started playing college ball, my love of all things football expanded to collegiate teams. Granted, I’m not as fanatical as my NFL devotion, but now I watch many of those games, too. This season, the University of Indiana’s football team made history. Not only were they undefeated in the regular season, they also won the national championship – a feat that only two teams in major college football history have achieved – the University of Indiana in 2025/2026 and Yale in 1894. (That is not a typo.)

Even more impressive was the young man who was the team’s quarterback, Fernando Mendoza. Not only did Fernando receive the Heisman Trophy (college football’s most esteemed honor), he also exhibited poise, humility, and confidence both on and off the field. Fernando is a young man who proudly professes his faith, gives God the credit for his accomplishments, and never fails to acknowledge his teammates’ contributions to the team’s success. He doesn’t curse (except for that one time when they won the national championship), doesn’t follow social media, and he loves his mami. (That’s not a typo either.) There’s so much more that could be said about this young man, and I’m sure someone somewhere is writing a book about him right this minute.

In a time when both college and professional athletes often exhibit behavior that is less than desirable, Fernando’s faith and humanity are unabashedly on full display. If you’re looking for a role model for your sons, grandsons, or yourself, I highly recommend Fernando Mendoza.

HOO HOO HOO HOOSIERS

In October, dear friends experienced every parent’s worst nightmare. Garrett, their amazing, charismatic, 26-year-old son, was killed by a drunk driver. Garrett never met a stranger, was engaging, energetic, and one of the kindest young men you could ever meet. The world was better with him in it.

Among the many heartbreaking experiences his parents endured was the fact that they could not access his cell phone. They had his phone; they just didn’t know his passcode. And even though the phone plan was in their name, and they paid the bill, not even a death certificate would suffice in allowing the Apple rep to unlock Garrett’s phone. To make matters worse (as if that was even possible), they were told the phone would be permanently disabled after the 10^th failed attempt. So, amid unimaginable grief, they tried to speculate what sequence he might have used. Thankfully, their fourth guess was correct.

If you have elderly parents, a partner, friends, or children of any age who have an iPhone, I share this story as a cautionary tale. Unlocking an iPhone using a completed Legacy Contact Access Key is a simple process. However, it requires the phone user to complete the Legacy Contact Access Key form in advance.

Here are the Apple instructions for obtaining a Legacy Contact Access Key:
“Apple users can add a Legacy Contact for their Apple Account. Adding a Legacy Contact is the easiest, most secure way to give someone they trust access to the data they stored in their Apple Account upon their death.
If you’re a Legacy Contact for a family member or friend who passed away — and you have both the unique access key they created when they added you as a Legacy Contact, and their death certificate — you can initiate a request right on your device or on the Digital Legacy – Request Access page.”

The process really is that simple, and as soon as I learned of this feature, I completed the online form in a matter of minutes.

The links listed above will take you directly to the Legacy Contact Access Key form. Like so many other issues we don’t like to think about and avoid addressing, completing this form is a gift you give your loved ones after you’re gone. Consider it an Advance Directive for your cell phone.

‘Tis the season to check on your elderly relatives. Quite often, a trip home to see the folks for the holidays results in a stunning realization that things aren’t going quite as well as they’ve been reporting. Here are a few simple ways to assess their safety:

Walk around their car to see if there are any new scratches or dents.

Ask if they’ve received any mail that included a “really good picture of them driving” (photocamera for traffic violations).

Are you noticing a change in their hearing, eyesight, balance, breathing?

Confirm that the information you have for them is still current such as passwords, Living Will, end-of-life wishes (this is a really good time to review those documents), location of the safe deposit key, etc.

Is anything growing in the refrigerator?

Do the batteries need to be replaced in the smoke detectors, carbon monoxide detectors, clocks?

Take their car for an oil change, tire rotation, car wash, and fill their gas tank while you’re at it.

Change the furnace filter.

Clean the gutters; Disconnect outdoor hoses.

Replace the porch light bulb, if needed.

Install solar lights along the sidewalk and steps.

These suggestions may seem trivial, but trust me, they may (or may not) be greatly appreciated!

Proceed with caution.

For most of my adult life, I was too busy. I needed to get there so I could get back. I wanted to finish this project so I could start the next one. I rushed home from work, picked up the kids, drove through McDonalds, dropped one kid off at her game, drove the other one to his, watched the beginning of his game, then rushed to watch the end of hers. I lived on Diet Coke and exhaustion.

For the past ten years, my life has slowed. I have fewer obligations and a calendar with lots of free space. I set my own schedule, and I have the freedom to do as I please. The biggest change is my noticing. I finally have time to notice things without worrying that I’m wasting time.

Recently, I noticed a sunset that was nothing short of breathtaking. I first noticed it through a window. My friend suggested we go outside to get a better look. The entire sky was a kaleidoscope of color that kept changing from one vibrant hue to another. For at least twenty minutes, the sky was on fire. Had I stayed in the house, I would have missed 99% of this magnificence. Note to self: Be willing to step outside your house (or your pre-conceived thoughts) and look at the big picture. You may never know what you’re missing.

The other day, I was driving to a very special place. I noticed a car in the other lane and I was pretty sure it was going to the same special place. However, they turned left when I turned right. A few minutes later, I noticed it had arrived from a different direction. Note to self: There’s more than one way to go, do, see. Be open to all the possibilities.

And last week I noticed a shooting star. It was a brilliant spectacle that only lasted a few seconds. The friend I was with missed it; I will never forget it. Note to self: Sometimes the moment is the miracle.

Overall, I’ve noticed my lack of hurriedness. I still make a “to do list” but it’s really so I don’t forget something, not to impose guilt if I don’t get everything crossed off by the end of the day. I’ve also noticed I’m as likely to say “No” as to say “Yes” to a request. I’ve even pared down my obligations to give me more time to do absolutely nothing…can you imagine?

Today is the 46^th anniversary of my youngest brother’s death. He was 12 years old. I remember it like it was yesterday, yet it feels like a lifetime ago.

This day also begs the question, “Do I call my mom to let her know I remembered, or do I not mention it for fear of making her sad.” I asked her that question many years ago. Her reply was bittersweet. She said, “Oh honey, I will always know what day it is whether you call or not. You do whatever feels best for you.”

There is a common theme in griefwork voiced by grieving parents, “Say their name. Tell me a story about them that I may not know. Show me a picture. Laugh with me. Cry with me. Don’t be afraid to make me sad – I’m already there.”

It’s a club no one wants to be a part of, and there’s so little we can do to make it better. Don’t ask, “How are you?” unless you add, “This very minute.” Because how someone “is” changes by the second. Hold hands. Share a snotty Kleenex. Bear witness to their sorrow. Be silent. Be present.

So, I’ll call my mom today and talk about our sweet John Jay. I’ll also call my friend, Karen, and mention Garrett’s name. It’s the best I can do.

What a month this week has been. The end.

As most of you know, in May, I fell and shattered my wrist. I’m happy to report it is healing slowly but surely. Although the fall occurred as I was walking down a level, pristine sidewalk, and came out of nowhere, it has resulted in definite changes in my daily routines:

I no longer multi-task – research indicates multi-tasking is detrimental to brain function,
I don’t look for my keys in my purse at the same time I’m descending stairs,
I wear my hearing aids all day, every day, (If you listened to the recent episode of The Problem with Perfect, you know hearing loss affects balance.)
If I have a candle burning or something cooking on the stove, I place my keys nearby so I don’t forget to remedy those fire hazards before I leave the house, (My sister taught me that.)
I try to be less distracted when walking across a parking lot or lawn,
I’m less hurried, and I’m taking more time to slow down and smell the roses.

If the broken wrist has taught me anything, it’s that sh*t happens and I should never, ever try playing pickleball. I think I already knew all that, but it’s been a valuable reminder.

My favorite time of year has arrived. Cool mornings and nights, sunshine and 70 degrees during the day. Does it get any better than this? Although spring is a close second, my favorite season is fall. Sweaters, and boots, and fire pits, oh my! And then there’s the leaf peepin’ – a kaleidoscope of red, orange, yellow, green, and gold (lots and lots of gold).

This year, I’m going to New York to celebrate the season. Broadway, the Burroughs, and Brooklyn’s Botanic Garden are all on the itinerary. I’ve also heard rumors of shopping and cheesecake.

A street by my house is lined with crimson Sugar Maples; it is truly a sight to see. Too bad I’m not an Alabama fan. Go Tigers!

I recently listened to a podcast where the guest mentioned “the least, the last, the lost, the left out, the lonely, and those who have lost hope.” Turns out that phrase is from the Bible, who knew?! Certainly not someone educated in the Catholic school system back in the day. (IYKYK) Regardless of the source, the quote has stayed with me for months.

Truth be told, I have been some version of all of those at one time or another. If those experiences helped shape who I am today, then I guess I should be grateful. I’m not sure the lessons needed to be quite so harsh, but I’ll admit I can be a slow learner.

The best part of having survived those experiences is that my heart feels deeply for others when their L word arrives. It’s not always easy to recognize those in the throes of heartache or despair; people tend to keep that shtuff to themselves. Given the current state of crazy in our world, our country, our schools, our neighborhoods, our families – I think it’s safe to presume most everyone is some kind of L word.

Reflecting on this phrase has helped me remember what helped when I was knee-deep in survival mode. The unconditional love of family and friends was life-saving. People’s willingness to listen (again and again) was an immeasurable gift. Those who took the time to reach out brightened moments that felt hopeless. All of it, every kindness, made such a difference in my life.

Having been blessed beyond measure, my goal is to pay it forward. Please feel free to join me.