WORDS TO LIVE BY

Last week’s blog had a typo in it. My initial reaction was one of humiliation and shame. I couldn’t believe I didn’t notice it after proofing it a gazillion times. Catholic guilt and my reputation as Sister Mary Punctuation may have contributed to my embarrassment.

Throughout this past week, I also noticed a typo in someone else’s blog, a typo in a book I was reading, and a typo in an article on the Internet. Rather than being comforted by these frequent occurrences, I wondered how those authors felt when they realized a typo had been immortalized for all to see.

When I wrote my dissertation, oh so many years ago, it was proofed by multiple people and a jury of my peers. My dissertation Chair read it, the members of my dissertation committee read it, and my trusted friend who was going through the program with me probably could have recited it. We were determined no typos would be found. Years later, I was reviewing the document as I looked for a quote I had included, and lo and behold, I found a typo.

After way too much time, angst, and deliberation, I have landed on “So what?” So, the blog had a typo. So, my dissertation wasn’t perfect. No one revoked my degree. No one mentioned the typo in the blog, and quite frankly, I’m pretty sure no one, but me, cares.

This is progress, people!

I recently spent a week with my grandson. We traveled to Oregon to visit his friend and to tour a few colleges. To be exact, he spent a LOT of time visiting his friend and I researched schools, no tours were taken. While we were gone, he celebrated turning 16 and I did not celebrate turning 71.

It’s been a minute since I spent that much time up close and personal with a teenager. These are my humble observations:

It was a wonderful trip. Oregon is beautiful. Traveling for a hundred miles along the Columbia River was simply breathtaking. I’m so glad we got to experience those sights together…kinda. I would point out the wonders, he would look up from his phone, acknowledge the beauty with a slight head nod, then return to his phone…for four solid hours coming and going. (Had I been in the passenger seat, I would have gotten a good 3 hours sleep each way.) Suffice it to say, neither of us are cut out for over-the-road-trucking.

Between him wearing Airpods continuously, and me not wearing my Airpods (aka hearing aids), we are both, evidently, deaf.

Our favorite travel game of yore was the license plate game. On our trip, I pointed out every new plate I saw, but he couldn’t hear me so no one made the list. (If anyone cares, I saw Florida, Oklahoma, Washington, Oregon, and Colorado.)

I waaaay underestimated the food budget.

Teenagers and “old people” do not share similar sleep cycles.

Despite our generational differences, it was the trip of a lifetime with one of my favorite people. I can’t wait to go again, but first I have to catch up on my sleep and lose the #^%#^ pounds I gained trying to keeping up with his appetite (no contest there)!

I have a friend who lives by the mantra: Best Day Ever. Regardless of the day, week, month, or moment, she declares every day the Best Day Ever. What a wonderful way to go through life! I wish I was more like her. It’s not that I fail to recognize my blessings, or appreciate the world around me, however, I don’t always remember to give each moment its just due. I’m going to work on that.

There are definitely moments that bring me joy beyond measure:

Spending time with my children and gbabes are moments I treasure.
I love watching the sun rise and set.
I am in awe of majestic trees.
Reading.
Watching football.
Exercising.
The sound of the ocean is music to my soul.
And speaking of music, listening to a show at Red Rocks is an experience I love to share with family and friends.

What I’ve realized is the event may be ordinary but appreciating the present moment makes it extraordinary.

Best Day Ever!

I’m not one to complain, okay, that’s not entirely true, but a recent round of customer disservice has me perplexed. (I wanted to say p*ssed but that’s not nice.) For the life of me, and it was kinda that serious, I cannot understand how people who are in customer service can be totally inept and disinterested, and still keep their job. I mean, really, I would fire myself if I was that incompetent.

Case in point. I recently contacted my prescription benefits company and ordered a 90-day supply of my heart medication. As advertised, using their online service is intended to “save money and be more convenient.” The “convenient” online option enabled me to order the heart medication, push Send, and wait 5-7 days for the meds to arrive on my doorstep. Eleven days later, I checked the “convenient” website and learned the order was not processed because my “credit card was inactive.” Mind you, at that point, I had the website pulled up, and my credit card number was, in fact, noted correctly, and active. Unfortunately for me, they were using a credit card number that was not mine. To add insult to injury, I did not receive a call, text, or email to explain the delay, despite the fact they send copious weekly emails advertising the exceptional benefits of their “convenient” program. I call b.s.

Needless to say, an actual conversation with a human was now in order. After 3 calls and a total of 47 minutes on the phone, the error was resolved. However, I was advised it would be another 5-7 days before the meds would arrive. By this time, I needed high blood pressure medication, too! My request to have the heart medication sent overnight was politely declined. It took me asking them what other resolution could be provided. The customer rep replied, “Well, I guess we could ask your doctor to send an emergency prescription to a local pharmacy.” Lord help me.

Thankfully, that transaction occurred. However, I then received a call from the local pharmacy advising they were out of that particular heart medication. I asked the young lad on the other end of the line if he had checked with other pharmacies (since there’s one on every corner). “No, but I can if you want me to.” Who knew Einstein worked at Walgreens?!

I finally took matters into my own hands and called a different local pharmacy that rhymes with CVS to determine if they had the prescribed heart medication. When availability was confirmed, I asked if they would call their neighbors across the street, have the prescription transferred to them, and advise me when the order was ready for pickup. Much to their credit, their customer service was impeccable and extremely efficient.

I’ll admit I’m pretty good at advocating for myself. I worry for the poor soul who doesn’t have a computer, or can’t hear well enough to ‘follow the prompts,’ or doesn’t have the mental capacity to navigate the system. Good luck and Godspeed!

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A few weeks ago, I spent time with some elite athletes. Professional athletes who work out for hours at a time, several times a day. At the end of those days, they walk 10,000 steps for fun. On their “rest day,” they play volleyball for 7 hours on the beach. Athletes who have phenomenal physiques chiseled to near perfection. The type of individuals who get paid to perform feats of strength and endurance.

Other than the fact we are all human, I have absolutely nothing in common with these people. I won’t even begin to compare my fitness to theirs. Nor has anyone ever paid me to compete or win the CrossFit Games. In fact, I’ve actually paid my hard-earned money to run a 10K. How crazy is that?! Try as I might, I thought there was just no way I could relate to them…until…

One afternoon, I overheard a conversation that brought tears to my eyes and joy to my heart. A few of these elite, professional, phenomenal athletes were discussing creating a “treat day.” Yes, you heard it here. They were planning which day of the week they would each bring brownies, cookies, or other delicacies to the gym for “treat day.” And just like that, we were kindred spirits.

Sam, Jenn, Dani, Chandler, and Jessi, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. You have renewed my faith in humanity and set a wonderful example for all of us weekend warriors and “Girls Who Eat.” This weekend as you compete, I will be cheering you on…from my couch…while eating treats…just like you!

I love to learn. After finishing 23 years of college learning, I began teaching so I could continue to learn without having to pay tuition, write papers, or take finals. I learned a lot while I was teaching. I learned how rewarding teaching can be. I learned the compensation does not begin to equal the time and effort. I learned I will never, ever teach the Power, Privilege & Oppression course again. I learned grading is hard. I also learned even graduate students have dogs that eat their homework. It was a good run but I’ve decided 6 years was long enough.

I’m excited about new learning opportunities. I’ve created a list to keep me motivated:

Understand the workings of the Social Security program – that may be an oxymoron

Explore the risks and benefits of AI

Continue ASL classes – Saw my teacher at the airport and signed “Hello” and “I’m going to Colorado” – it was a moment 😊

Read more biographies

Determine which streaming service has the best NFL coverage

Figure out how to wash the outside of my windows from the inside of the house – it was a major selling point when I replaced all the windows but it’s been a minute

Gain a better understanding of the use of psychedelics as a therapeutic tool

And last but not least, finally pass Algebra 101.

I can’t wait to get started!

Unless you’ve been living under a rock or on a deserted island, you know Sunday is Mother’s Day. For some, it is a day to honor and lavish our mothers. For others, it is one of the most dreaded days of the year.

Motherless Daughters is a book by Hope Edelman. It’s a book I frequently recommend to grieving daughters of all ages. I like the content, but I am not a fan of the title.

Can you ever really be a motherless daughter? Maybe your mom was more Moira Rose than Rebecca Pearson. Maybe your mom has dementia and you lost her while she’s still here. Maybe a grandmother, special aunt, or friend stepped in as a surrogate mother. Even if your mom has died, you are still a daughter.

I’ve learned mothers come in all shapes and sizes. Some mothers are ‘family by chance’ and some are ‘family by choice.’ Some make us better and some make us bitter, it’s really kind of a crap shoot. I’ve also learned there are myriad ways to find the love and support we all need, regardless of who bestows it.

Hallmark wants us to think we have one day a year to honor our mothers. I call b.s. on that. Being the best you, every day, honors your mother. Mentoring young men and women honors your mother. Dressing your littles in gingham dresses honors her too. Checking in once a week by phone or in person is an honor many covet. No one knows a mother like her children, so maybe spend some time thinking about how to best honor her while you have the chance.

And for those whose child has died, or mothers estranged from their children, you are still their mother. For those of you missing your mother, or those who can’t or don’t have children, be kind to yourself this weekend…Monday is right around the corner.

A few weeks ago, I decided to ride my bicycle. The bike was given to me and it had been in my garage for 2 years. I drove to beautiful Waterton Canyon and hopped on. It wasn’t until mile 3 that I realized there were no brakes. Upon my harrowing return, I promptly used the gift card my kids gave me last year for my birthday and ordered a new bicycle.

It’s not like me to be so spontaneous. I mean, I did have the gift card for almost a year. It’s just that I have recently decided to quit postponing fun. If working in end-of-life care has taught me anything it’s, “Don’t wait.” After Covid, my friend, Karen, declared, “This is the year we’re doing sh*t.” We vowed to try something new once a month. We weren’t entirely successful but we did have lots of fun.

This year, I’m taking it upon myself to find fun. I plan to make the most of every day and to say “Yes” to every opportunity for fun. Just the thought of it makes me smile. What about you? Are you having fun? Do you add ‘fun’ to your To-Do list? Can you recall the last time you had fun? Do you even remember what the word means? Now is the time; don’t wait!

If you call and I don’t answer, I’m probably at the canyon riding past the big horn sheep, the people fly fishing, or looking for the 5 mile marker I missed last week. My bum is still recovering from that excursion.

I went to a showing of the documentary “Dosed: The Trip of a Lifetime” last night. The movie chronicled the journey of a woman with Stage IV cancer who was suffering from the emotional aspects of living with a terminal disease. In an effort to ameliorate her symptoms, she elected to try magic mushrooms (psylocibin). The result was a psychedelic “trip” she described as equal parts frightening and freeing.

Full disclosure, I have never tried psychedelics. That said, I did vote for their legalization. I am grateful Colorado has been at the forefront of many controversial laws and regs that empower those living with serious illness. In 2000, the legalization of medical marijuana for those living with chronic pain and other debilitating maladies was historic. A few years ago, Medical Aid in Dying (MAID) was voted on and approved. I’ve had the honor of working with patients who chose MAID. The appreciation and relief they expressed for finally having control over their incurable disease was palpable. And now, there is psylocibin to consider as a therapeutic intervention for emotional and psychological distress.

My interest in learning more about magic mushrooms was two-fold. First, I know absolutely nothing about psychedelics and second, I wanted to understand the psychological benefits. The documentary was educational and informative; the history of plants as medicine was enlightening. It was also assuring to know clinical trials and research studies at esteemed medical institutions like Johns Hopkins University are being conducted to learn more about the efficacy of the plant.

The woman in the movie reported significant benefits from her use of magic mushrooms. She felt her anxiety and fear diminished exponentially. She also experienced a “spiritual” awakening that brought a renewed appreciation for living in the present moment. Most importantly, she was “no longer afraid to die.” That impressed me. Having spent years working with patients who were approaching death, the angst and anxiety of how and when and what’s next can be a killer (pun intended).

I left the movie hopeful. Anything that can improve the lives of those who are dying, or those living with debilitating anxiety, depression, or PTSD, is “magical” to me.

P.S. If you are interested in learning about psylocibin, Dosed is available to watch online. Another resource is the 60 Minutes special entitled, “Cancer patient overcomes anxiety about death with psychedelics.” That program can be viewed on YouTube.

I’ve lived in my home for 8 years. At first, I was just grateful to have a home; the Denver housing market is a nightmare. Little by little, and dollar by dollar, I’ve renovated and updated. I like DIY projects but even I knew better than to attempt replacing windows or installing central air. Last year, I enlisted the assistance of my gbabes to help spread 6 tons of rock and to stain the deck. They thought my offer of $25/hr was “too much” until they actually spread 6 tons of rock. Trust me, it was $ well spent.

This week, I decided to “save money” and install a curtain rod I purchased 7 years ago. I gathered my tools, set up the ladder, and began my “How hard can it be?” DIY project. Long story short, after disassembling the previous brackets, patching the holes, and painting the wall, all before installing the new rod, I’m here to tell ya, it’s harder than it looks.

In my effort to “save money,” I bought a pair of curtains at Goodwill for $5.99. When I got them home, I realized they were too short. I painstakingly took out the hem, pressed the creases, and hemmed them again. I then embarked on installing the curtain rod. Suffice it to say, the installation did not go well. In fact, it went so poorly I ended up paying a handyman $50.00 to fix the multitude of holes and hang the curtain rod correctly. Imagine my surprise when I hung the curtains and they were still too short. At that point, money was no object and I promptly ordered some from Amazon for $36.99. They look lovely.

A few days later, I realized the Goodwill curtains could be used in another room. (They really are nice curtains!) Unfortunately, now the curtains were too long and had to be rehemmed to their original length. I also had to buy a new curtain rod for $20.00 because the one I had wasn’t wide enough. And then there was the problem of installing it. I was determined to watch as many YouTube videos as necessary in order to become accomplished in the fine art of curtain rod hanging. It took more time than I will ever admit but I was successful-ish. Upon a final inspection of my handywork, I realized I was 1/4″ off on one side. If you know me, you know I cannot live with that kind of shoddy workmanship. My attempts to correct the problem resulted in 4 holes where there were once 2, but the project is complete.

So far, I have NOT “saved” $112.98 + tax.