WORDS TO LIVE BY

Timeouts don’t get the credit they deserve. Timeouts provide the giver and receiver a chance to rest and reset. Although often considered a reprimand by the receiver, I have first-hand knowledge that the giver can feel pretty bad about them too.

Many years ago, my son kept whining that his arm hurt after a soccer game with the neighborhood kids. I gave him the choice to go back outside to play or take a timeout. Much to my surprise, he elected the later. A little while later he summoned me to his room to show me his aching arm – which was clearly broken!
I did not win Mother of the Year in 1985.

I once sent both kiddos to their rooms for a timeout after the babysitter complained about their behavior. As they were headed down the hall I mumbled, “I should just put you up for adoption.” Sometime later, my tearful son appeared in the hallway and said, “Mom, can I ask a favor? Please don’t put us up for adoption, they never choose the older kids.” Didn’t get Mother of the Year that year either.

I don’t remember giving my daughter timeouts. As a teenager, the door slamming, piercing glares, and raging allegations of unfair punishment resulted in giving myself a timeout to escape her wrath. (Not a parenting style I recommend…but it did work…we’re both still alive). To her credit, she outgrew that phase and is now navigating corporate America with grace and finesse.

My kids are grown now and my grandchildren are perfect so they never get a timeout at Mimi’s house. Every once in a while, I still put myself in timeout to regroup and recover from the stresses of the world. I’m a firm believer in ‘just because a phone rings doesn’t mean you have to answer it’ (unless it’s one of the gbabes). The same goes for texts, emails, and doorbells. In fact, over the past few months I’ve gotten pretty good at putting myself in timeout for an hour each day. Some might call it taking a nap but what do they know?!

Did you know there are two definitions for the word committed?

The first defines committed as a dedication or devotion to someone or something. Committed is a strong and unwavering intention to do whatever it takes to succeed. We all know people who are committed. We’ve watched in awe as they overcame insurmountable odds and achieved feats beyond our wildest imagination. We also know people who remained undaunted as they tried, failed, and accepted disappointment, yet remained steadfast and committed to their goals – people who live by the creed, “Quitting is not an option.” People who took 17 years to get their undergrad. People who wanted a healthier lifestyle and lost 200#. People who decided to live their truth. People who quit their job, sold their home, and traveled the world. People who walked away from high-paying jobs to start a non-profit. People who have a learning disability, so in grad school, they listened to recordings of the textbooks rather than reading them. Can you imagine?

Then there’s that other definition of committed.

Some would contend it’s a fine line between the two. Who’s to say?

I worked in end-of-life care for 20 years. Quite often people commented, “I don’t know how you do that. Isn’t that incredibly sad?” To which I usually replied, “That’s how I feel about accounting.”

My honest reply was always, “It’s a calling, not a career.” Granted, it’s not an easy job and it’s not for everyone. Empathy and compassion are mandatory. Patience and understanding are required. Meeting people where they are and supporting them as they embark on the unknown requires courage and tenacity. Although social work is a special calling, who doesn’t do that in their chosen profession? Nurses do. Teachers do. Parents do. Police, firemen, EMT’s do. I know my coaches at the gym do. Anyone who works with the public does, in spades.

Through the years, I’ve learned some helpful techniques. Sometimes people appreciate my pearls of wisdom, sometimes not so much. There have been times when I was effective and times when I totally missed the mark. My successes are fondly remembered; my failures are hard to forget. It’s helpful to know I’m not alone.

Hands up: 
Who has spoken before their brain was fully engaged?  
Who wishes they could take back the words that caused pain or sorrow?  
Who would give anything for a second chance to get it right?

We all have a calling. We all have days when we are spot on and days we fail miserably. I think the most important thing to remember is that everyone is doing the best they can. As I was reminded not long ago…we are all just walking each other home.  

In social work school we were required to practice silence. Crazy, right? We were instructed to sit across from a pretend patient/client and not speak for 60 seconds. Do you know how long it takes for a minute of silence? It’s like two hours!

Silence is powerful. It gives the speaker and the listener time to compose their thoughts. It provides space for emotions to surface. It can bring forth additional information because most people are so darn uncomfortable with silence, they just keep talking to avoid it. Don’t tell your kids, but it works really well when engaging with them. It usually goes something like this:

Parent: How was your day?
Teenager: Good.
Silence
Teenager: We had a test in Spanish.
Silence
Teenager: I think I aced it.
Teenager: What’s for dinner?

As this school year begins, try silence; it’s amazing what you might hear.

What a year this week has been! Try as I might to be Zen and peace-filled, the past seven days have been really, really hard. As my family was lovingly gathered to sit vigil as our sister made her way to heaven, I was exactly 816.9 miles away awaiting THE call.

A little background…My sister, Cindy, the oldest of 7 children, was diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy as an infant. The doctors told my parents not to expect her to live past 5; she died at the age of 70. The fact that she defied all odds is a testament to our mother’s tenacity and dedication. With every obstacle and challenge, our mom advocated for Cindy and others who shared similar disabilities.

Cindy was a hoot. She called our mom “Betty” and she smiled from ear-to-ear whenever Betty walked in the room. Cindy’s mental capacity was limited. She knew her name but couldn’t spell it or write it. She knew color words but couldn’t tell you if the flower was yellow or red (To her credit, she would keep guessing until she got it right). She loved quarters, M&Ms with peanuts, and The Best of the Guess Who (she had good taste in music). She coveted the Sears Christmas catalog and read the paper every day (sometimes it was upside down; she must have been a REALLY good reader 😊). She could cuss like a sailor, and when that proved to be problematic for Betty, Cindy made up her own curse words. If she was mad, she might call you a “spoon and fork.” If she was really p*ssed, you got called a “dishrag.” Imagine our friends’ confusion when Cindy got in trouble for saying ‘dishrag.’

For many years, we’ve watched as Cindy’s quality of life diminished. She could no longer walk, and her ability to talk was reduced to a few words. She still smiled every time she saw Betty, but it was obvious she was declining. Although none of us could imagine life without Cindy, we wished and prayed for the day she would be free from the limitations and indignities she had endured her whole life.

Betty has always said, “Nothing can happen to me as long as Cindy is still here.” Being the family skeptic, I wasn’t quite sure that’s how that works, but by golly, Betty’s faithful prayers were answered, and Cindy is now surrounded by family who’ve gone before her. Cindy was such a gift to our family. She was the best among us, and she will be dearly missed.

Cancer – possibly the most dreaded word in the English language.

The word cancer is loathed and feared – a word that strikes terror in the hearts of those diagnosed, and in those who walk the journey alongside their loved one. For the past 20 years, I have worked with people who were diagnosed with cancer. Notice I did not say “cancer patients.” The person always comes first, the illness second.

I’ve had the privilege of meeting amazing people who demonstrated courage, tenacity, and grace in the face of terror and pain. It has been an interesting study in human nature to observe the many ways people cope with their cancer diagnosis:

• I have known patients who equated their cancer experience to a fender bender…Had it, fixed it, moved on.
• I’ve known women bejeweled in pink, and women who were militantly opposed to pink ribbons.
• I know a woman who brought in a pair of granny panties with words of encouragement written all over them by family and friends because, “It’s time to put on my big girl panties and kick cancer’s ass.”
• I know a woman who deemed herself the Colorectal Queen.
• I’ve known men who were just as devastated as women when their hair fell out.
• One of my all-time favorites is a quote by a friend who had a terminal diagnosis, “Well, I guess I don’t have to be so anal about flossing anymore.”
  
  I’ve held space for patients who railed at the gods, those who begged for a miracle, and some who considered their diagnosis an opportunity to make amends. I know a young man who wants his cancer experience to bring others closer to God. Some use humor to cope; some deem cancer a vicious enemy to be defeated – there is no right or wrong way.
  
  Over the years, I’ve been changed by the pearls of wisdom patients have bestowed. Almost every time I speak with a patient, I hear the same two sentiments:

Make the most of every day.
When you care about people, tell them you love them.
Words to live by.

Platitudes. We hear them often. The well-meaning comments intended to soothe or assuage:

My boyfriend ghosted me – Plenty of other fish in the sea
My father died – Heaven just gained another angel
We had a miscarriage – You can always try again
I have cancer – God never sends us more than we can bear.

I propose a synonym for platitudes … I’m sorry.

My boyfriend ghosted me – I’m sorry
My father died – I’m sorry
We had a miscarriage – I’m sorry
I have cancer – I’m sorry.

Truth be told, there are no magic words to make these, or a host of other painful, heart- breaking situations better. As simple as ‘I’m sorry’ may seem, I think It is a perfect anecdote to false hope or well-intentioned refrains. AND, once you get used to saying, ‘I’m sorry,’ it’s so much simpler than trying to find the perfect words…because there are none.

A few months ago, a patient’s mother sent me a beautiful composition she had written about the time we spent together during her son’s illness. It brought me to tears. It’s not that I said anything profound, but to her, it was meaningful. I am honored and grateful she shared her memories with me.  

The experience reminded me how important it is to express gratitude to others. Truth be told, I don’t even remember saying the things she found so significant; I’ve had similar conversations with more people than I care to count. What’s so momentous is the fact she remembered it years later, and most importantly, shared her gratitude with me. I made a difference and she wanted me to know.

I’m not good at that. I appreciate so many people, yet I rarely tell them so. I’m just not one to tell others their outfit is cute, or their kindness was noticed. I think it…I just don’t say it…and I don’t know why.  What is it about sharing gratitude that feels so awkward and uncomfortable? I envy those who do that naturally. I’m always afraid people may think I’m running for office or selling raffle tickets.

I think it’s fair to say we may never know the difference we’ve made in the lives of others. That said, from this day forward, I pledge to change my ways! The new and improved me will acknowledge those people who make a difference in my life. I will express gratitude to those who say or do things that make my heart smile and I will resist the urge to remain silent – tall task but I’m up for it!

I used to regret a lot, like all the time. I regretted doing things and I regretted not doing things. I even had a t-shirt that had ‘Nothing is more painful than regret’ printed on the back. (I was serious about regret.) After years of rumination and hindsight, I regret to inform you, regret is a colossal waste of time.

Life rarely gives us a do-over. And even if we could, would we? I have enough life experience to be able to reflect on the many crossroads I’ve met along my journey to this moment, times when I could have turned left, but I chose to turn right. I will be honest and say I may have reached my destination kicking and screaming, but I have no doubt it was where I belonged.

There were certainly more than a few misguided detours.  There were times I didn’t trust my instincts and times I let fear take the lead. There were times I let others choose the path and I followed behind, regretting every step. Even in those instances, I can now see the benefit of those experiences.

I no longer have room for regret in my life. As Oprah says, “When you know better, you do better.” It may have taken me several do-betters, but in the end, all of those moments and missteps made me who I am today. Flawed and faith-filled, I am who I am.

I would ask what you regret, but ain’t nobody got time for that!

Have you ever been wrong? I mean 100% certifiably incorrect. I found myself in that position recently. For years (like decades), I thought ameliorate meant to wipe out. In reality, ameliorate means to make better. This revelation came as quite a surprise. If you are a lover of words like me, imagine my shock when I realized I had been mistaken and misspoken for years!

I wonder what people thought when I used the word ameliorate incorrectly? Maybe:

What an idiot!
Huh?
What the heck does ameliorate mean?

I’m a big believer in reading with a dictionary nearby. In fact, when my nieces were young, we had a book club every summer. I instilled the habit of using a dictionary by asking them to explain the definition of unfamiliar words we read. I loved those book clubs. I think the girls were 7 or 8 when we started, and we continued until they went to high school. If you have littles in your family, I highly recommend a summer book club. It’s a wonderful way to spend time with them…and…they are reading in the summer! What a great way to ameliorate their reading skills!! (See the difference😊)