Boomers, Is Time Working for You?

Posted on June 9, 2013 by Beth

The ultimate time piece is the heart, ticking inside us.

We all have clocks in our lives—on wrists, on phones. The clocks might work, but does time work for us? By now, as Boomers, we should know something about how to use time. But maybe not.

If fortunate, we get up each morning, often facing hours that are carved out for us because of appointments or duties scheduled at certain hours. But if we step back and take a discerning look, our entire life is like that—it’s carved out to enclose certain events that take place at certain times in the life span—if we are fortunate. The surprise events (both good and bad) can either derail us entirely or make us stronger and more capable of staying firm on the road of our life.

Now I’m in a new state, a new house. That’s physical. But it also contributes to putting me in a new place mentally. How am I doing? I’m exploring that. Maybe I can help you explore where you are.

Within the past five years I wrote a post entitled Why Do We Cry? ( Let’s Look at the Numbers). I had many obligations and concerns about my family then, and the pace of my life, my Boomer Highway, was becoming overwhelming. All I really wanted to do was sit and play with my 18-month-old granddaughter. But she was far away in California and even when I was there, she was not cooperating. ..she cries and wriggles from me and clings to really just her sadness…she just wants her mother, my daughter (29)… or maybe a corner behind a door or a corner in her crib where she can howl, until exhausted she falls asleep. And when she wakes up, she might forget about her fever, have a blank page to mark on.

Oh for a blank page. A truly blank page. We all need that. To wake up to a day that is just ours, no one else’s. We can eat what and when we want; do whatever!

But there are those philosophical questions that often intervene. So I wrote: I’m getting older. So is the world. It’s all about numbers now…stock market numbers; the see-saw price of a barrel of oil…jobs lost in the first quarter of the year. And politics: on CNN, in the newspapers, on You Tube—all numbers. You can’t win if you don’t know the numbers. I wrestle with mine…

Sometimes I too want to crawl behind a door or get into my bed and blubber. But I don’t. The phone is ringing. Email and snail mail are piling up along with appointments and things called obligations. And there is always the question: what good does crying really do? I’m an adult. So I tell myself every day—we will be fine… Then I can go on.

Since I wrote Why Do We Cry, (Let’s Look at the Numbers), so much has changed. My mother (92) and my aunt (96) have both died, but I am at peace because I believe I gave them everything I could give. My husband (62) is retired, in a clinical trial for his chronic illness and feeling good—he no longer works like a crazy person but pursues hobbies he loves; my oldest daughter (33) now has a rewarding career, and just got engaged. My granddaughter is finishing first grade and has two amazing wonderful brothers, thanks to my other daughter (29) who is finishing writing a book. And my son (19) has moved to my hometown city, Chicago, and has a good job and lots of plans for his future.

WOW! That’s change. In Why Do We Cry, I wrote: In the best of all worlds, (62) and I, right this minute, would sell our home with the 4 bedrooms, and move to a comfortable cabin on a warm sea. There we could hear birds calling, watch them endlessly soaring into clouds shredded by wind and falling light. Oh where is that place? Our children are scattered. We need to sit tight, wait to see how it works out for them, wait for (92), wait for (96)…We must be poor planners. We must be like our granddaughter waking from her nap, forgetting to connect the dots. Why didn’t we sit down with those who are profoundly connected to us, those we love fiercely and say: now sit tight, wait to see what happens, don’t go too far—we might need you or you might need us; curtail your desires; be practical; only fall in love with things that are constant—like partners, careers, jobs, cars, even plumbing, electricity, and computers. Keep it steady, keep it even, keep it together.

But you and I know that life, that time doesn’t ever fall that way. Yes, many things have worked out since I wrote that piece. I am fortunate to be in a new place, a quiet place—near to the grandchildren, with time to write, with my husband by my side. But I still tell myself—we will be fine. Because that faith is part of how time weaves through our lives, how I got to this place.

What’s the take-away? I’ll be trite. Each day IS a gift. Each day can be a blank page and we should attempt to find at least an hour to write upon it something memorable, something indelible in the time-flight we experience. Like:

Sitting outside and listening to the birds or the tree frogs or even the sounds of people laughing and walking in the street—listening to life;

Picking up a book, newspaper, magazine or digital device and reading—expanding knowledge, being moved by poetry–the bumping of one word against another;

Holding on to someone we love and feeling the ultimate clock, our own heart ticking, beating in those moments when we share a patch of time. Being in life, in the moment and REALIZING that we are.

At the end of (Why Do We Cry, Let’s Look at the Numbers) I wrote:

The cabin by the sun-drenched sea floats in my vision, warming my body and my mind. Sometimes I go there and cry, not a frenzied cry, not an out of control cry—just one to help me release. There has to be some good about this crying thing. I’ve read about stress-induced proteins in tears. Crying releases them. Pain goes away. For me it’s that blank page. When I stop crying it will be like I just woke from a nap, my recent experience transformed to a page that is mine to take hold of, to set sail on—no scars, nothing chronic, nothing dying or lost. I will give it another go. It’s called trust. It’s called living.

I’m not living in a cabin by the sea. And I still cry. But my tears are softer now. They come when I think about my aunt, my mother or when I miss my two children who are still far away.

Boomers, is time working for you? Be in your life, be in the moment.

Do you agree?

You might also read: How To Fight Aging: Deepak Chopra Says Make Time Your Friend.

Thanks to Google Images

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Buying Medications Online Might Save You Money—But Give You Bigger Headaches

Posted on June 9, 2013 by Beth

Read carefully to protect yourself when using an online pharmacy.

Within the past year, a member of my family was questioning whether to buy medication online. In the end, he didn’t, as the physician prescribing the drug would not be responsible for his future care—the online pharmacy was in another country. Medications prescribed by doctors in the U.S. have to be approved by the FDA. So what if he’d just gone ahead? He would no longer have had the care and watchful eye of his doctor. But there’s much more to it.

Ordering prescriptions online can be fraught with difficulty. Recent information from Blue Cross/Blue Shield emphasizes the dangers. When considering using an online pharmacy, ask yourself the following:

Is this pharmacy U.S. or state-licensed?
Is the given diagnosis the right one, or is this company just trying to sell a medication to make money?
Will this pharmacy protect my health information, or sell it to some other online business?

Also, know that some of the medications sold online are:

fake or copies of a real medication
using a formula not strong enough or too strong
using dangerous ingredients
selling you a drug that is expired, out of date for efficacy
are not FDA approved for safety and effectiveness
are developed or made using unsafe conditions which go against FDA standards
would be unsafe to use with other medications or health products
are not labeled, stored or shipped correctly

If you are buying your medications online, here is what to look for to make sure it’s a legal, safe online pharmacy.

the pharmacy always requires a doctor’s prescription
the pharmacy provides an address and telephone number within the U.S.
the site offers a pharmacist to answer your questions
the site has a license with your state board of pharmacy (source: fda.gov)

IMPORTANT NOTE: Your local retail pharmacy like Walgreens, Wal-Mart or Target might renew your prescription online. This is a big difference from getting your medications from a pharmacy that ONLY has an online presence. If you trust your local pharmacy, you should have no trouble purchasing your drugs from their website. For more information go to: fda.gov/besaferx

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Moving. Could It Be a Danger to Your Mental Health?

Posted on June 3, 2013 by Beth

Prepare yourself for a memory challenge when you do a major move.

We hired the tag sale lady, bought the boxes, continuously poured over the paperwork—but moving requires that pound of flesh and more—of your body, your emotions and your mental health.

It was so much easier doing this same exercise sixteen years ago. Why: 16 years younger, with 16 years LESS STUFF. And the distance of the move was shorter, the new dwelling having a similar footprint to the last one. With five previous moves under our belts, there were still lots of surprises. This last move was a stunner. So please keep in mind these tips if a major move is looming on your horizon.

TIME PLAYS A BIG ROLE

The biggest odds against everything going smoothly for a major move is lack of time. Now when I google moving tips I can either feel badly or just have a good laugh. There was no time to download Aps! No time to list everything that went into each box. I was purging every cabinet, drawer and closet as fast as I could. We were taking loads of stuff to charities, meeting other charities at the front AND back door as they came to pick up chairs, couches–even a piano. And with the help of a dear friend, we had a major garage sale one week before the moving truck arrived. NO TIME.

So: don’t sell your house in one day, like we did; and if you do, ask for more time. Sellers still have some power, though in most states it’s the buyers with the power.

Give yourself lots of time to find a new dwelling. Oh, we were so lucky we found a great place within two weeks of selling our home. The clock was ticking. Also, try to avoid a move across the country to a different state, a different time zone under time-limited, lots-of-pressure circumstances. That’s what we did. Buyer’s remorse?? None. But that doesn’t mean it was easy going!

The Mental Health Part of Moving.

And in retrospect, I don’t recommend it. Once our moving ball got rolling, it was more like being chained to a speeding train that we couldn’t get off. The ride didn’t allow meditation, breath catching, calm decision making. And then my mother died. (My daughter joked that if I then got pregnant or took on a new job, I would be living through the major changes in life that mental health experts warn about.) Well thank God no chance of either of those happening. So what do you do?

make lists
make lists for your lists
stop showering and wearing makeup because there is no time
assign one person to deal with the banks, realtors, moving people, etc
assign the other person to handle everything else–like what to pack, what to give away and how to keep clothed and fed during this time
make huge folders (digital and hard copy) for millions of pages of paper
try to sleep at night
if you can’t sleep, imagine the completion of all the above and you’ll probably become unconscious regardless

The Mental Health Part of Unpacking

But seriously, you know there’s lots of boxes and packing and upheaval. You know there’s too much paperwork. But did you guess at the mental health part? I didn’t. But suddenly I am in this new home and I need something. I cannot find it. What to do: zero in on the following thought process:

I packed it, I know I did
I packed it, so maybe the box it is in hasn’t been unpacked
I know where it is if I’m still in the old house
damn, I’m in the new house, so where is it?

The end of this thought process is a wild racing through boxes that have been opened but are still not all unpacked. A mess is created as you dig. The final result it that the item remains unfound. (This happened with my IPod. I condemned all the movers for taking it on a whim, when this past weekend I opened a drawer in my dresser and there it was. WHO PUT IT THERE??? I did. I am just having a hard time THINKING.

It’s Like a Major Case of Jet Lag

Yes, I’m older this move, but think of all the items I touched in my house back in Iowa, all the items I had to make decisions about. That’s why Henry David Thoreau was so right: …what should be man’s morning work in this world? I had three pieces of limestone on my desk, but I was terrified to find that they required to be dusted daily, when the furniture of my mind was all undusted still, and threw them out the window in disgust.[10]

Well, I did give things away and Thoreau would have been proud. But I made hundreds of these decisions about furniture, books and files. The question: can the mind hold it all in perfect memory order? Does being in a different environment add to the confusion? Does trying to set up new utility accounts, change address, unpack, fix things in the new place (these inspectors sure don’t inspect that well!!) and continue to be civil to family affect how the mind works?? YES. It has to be somewhat like jet lag–you have not only gone through a change in time zone, but a change in everything else. Even where you put your toothpaste.

Lance Kriegsfeld, UC Berkeley associate professor of psychology, is doing amazing research on jet lag. He writes: “This is the first time anyone has done a controlled trial of the effects of jet lag on brain and memory function, and not only do we find that cognitive function is impaired during the jet lag, but we see an impact up to a month afterward.” Though Kriegsfeld’s research basically applies to people who travel across different time zones frequently, there are similarities. “Chronic jet lag alters the brain in ways that cause memory and learning problems long after one’s return to a regular 24-hour schedule…”

So I’m going with my theory. It calms me down. I can take a deep breath and think more clearly. Now I can find things!

Memories

One final thought. If you are a Boomer and you are faced with moving, the other thing you encounter as you sort books, photographs, even clothing are memories. I had my mother’s wedding dress, my children’s baby teeth, a list of the gifts I received for 8th grade graduation and a list of how much our wedding in 1970 cost. The live 5 piece band was only one hundred dollars.

Memories mingle with lists and duties. The brain becomes overloaded and you just cannot remember where you put your IPod. Moving could be a danger to your mental health! Well that’s my theory and I am sticking to it.

Do you have a different experience or theory??

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Nutrition for Your Growing Athlete

Posted on June 2, 2013 by Beth

All young athletes need good nutrition to compete.

If your son or daughter is participating in a sport, consider using this diet and nutrition information from Iowa State University. Working with a nutritionist, swim coaches there created basic guidelines to help young athletes not only have good nutrition to prepare their bodies for events, but also to sustain health throughout training. The body cannot compete when depleted of nutrients.

If your child is going to swim or wrestle or run in a MORNING EVENT, follow this plan:

DINNER the night before: 2 cups spaghetti, 1 cup pasta sauce, 1 plain dinner roll, 1 cup mixed greens, ½ cup cooked broccoli. Totals: 115 grams carbohydrate; 575 kcal

SNACK: 1 cup OJ, 1 banana(small), 1 granola bar. Totals: 60 grams carbohydrate; 240 kcal

LIGHT BREAKFAST: 1 1/2 cup cheerios, 1 cup skim milk, 1 banana. Totals: 72 grams carbohydrate; 320 kcal

BEFORE AFTERNOON EVENTS: eat a hearty breakfast & a lighter carbohydrate-based lunch

HEARTY BREAKFAST: 2 eggs scrambled, 2 slices whole wheat bread, 2 tbsp peanut butter, 1 tbsp jam, 1 cup skim milk, ½ cup OJ, 1 banana (small). Totals: 87 grams carbohydrates; 685 kcal

LIGHTER LUNCH: 1 cup chicken noodle soup, 1 plain dinner roll, 1 cup skim milk, 1 orange. Totals: 64.5 grams carbohydrate; 310 kcal

SNACK EXAMPLES: 2 hours before exercise: granola bar, fruit (banana, orange, apple), bagel, yogurt – low fat/non fat, sports bar, low fat /20% total fat and low protein.

DURING EXERCISE: sports drink, crackers, fruit, sports bar

BEFORE EVENING EVENTS: eat a hearty breakfast and hearty lunch; eat a light snack 1-2 hours before (if tolerated)

HEARTY LUNCH: subway 6” roasted check breast, 1 chocolate chip cookie, 1 apple (medium). Totals: 92 grams carbohydrate; 590 kcal

SNACK: 1 cup OJ, 1 banana (small), 1 granola bar. TOTALS 60 grams carbohydrate, 240 kcal

Thanks to Iowa State University, University Extension

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2011 American Heart Association Guidelines for Women

Posted on May 26, 2013 by Beth

If you have had cardiovascular-related complications in your pregnancy, take control of your health now.

Since 2011, the AHA has determined a woman could fall into one of the three following groups depending on her health history:

high risk for heart disease-women with established heart disease, chronic kidney disease, diabetes and other risk factors;
at risk for heart disease which includes women with pregnancy complications such as preeclampsia, gestational diabetes or pregnancy-induced hypertension—all equivalent to a failed stress test which doctors use to diagnose heart disease;
or ideal cardiovascular health;

A woman who experienced the pregnancy complications listed above needs to stay in touch with her doctor. “Your blood pressure may return to normal after pregnancy and your blood sugar may return to normal too, but don’t ignore these symptoms,” says Ileana L. Pina, MD from Case Western Reserve University in Cleveland.

Lori Mosca MD a cardiologist at New York-Presbyterian Hospital states: “If you develop one of these conditions during pregnancy, it is an unmasking of the risk that tells us your vascular system doesn’t function ideally. These complications are an opportunity to detect early that there is a problem.”

Follow up with your doctor, Mosca says. Ask yourself: “What can I do to prevent heart disease and diabetes?” Mosca states that your doctor might recommend aggressive lifestyle changes and possibly medication. “We are unmasking a problem early so that we can prevent full-blown cardiovascular disease.”

Here are the Guidelines that the AHA association has established because of this new research:

Consume less than 1,500 milligrams of salt per day
Limit sugar or high sugar content foods to five or fewer servings per week
Don’t rely on folic acid and vitamins like E, C and beta-carotene to prevent heart disease; instead eat a healthy diet
As for daily aspirin, don’t just start taking one—talk to your doctor; and know your cholesterol and blood pressure numbers
Bottom line: a healthy lifestyle will help you avoid heart disease, but you must be aware of your risk factors, exercise and eat a healthy diet. TAKE CONTROL!

Thanks to Web MD

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Do I Have a Sleep Disorder? No, I Just Have a Life!

Posted on May 24, 2013 by Beth

At Any Age, A Good Night's Sleep Is Rare

This woman is in dreamland, but we have all had years of not-so-good sleep!

Last night I was suddenly awake, again. I asked myself–do I have a sleep disorder? Yes, I’m a boomer, but at any age we all want a good night’s sleep. I did reach a conclusion–most of us don’t have sleep disorders, we just have a life!

At first there wasn’t a logical reason for my wakefulness. My husband was in a deep sleep, I wasn’t having a hot flash and nature wasn’t calling me! I was comfortable—my pillow and covers were just right. But I was awake. A car drove through my cul-de-sac, its lights glazing the ceiling. Somewhere a dog barked.

Yes at first I did blame my boomer age—that wakefulness, sleep problems and sleep difficulties, develop as we age. But comfortably lying there I found myself remembering other sleepless nights and then suddenly smiling. This was nothing! As the memories kept coming, I eventually fell back to sleep. Had I found a cure? Certainly not, but I had reached a comforting conclusion. At younger ages most of us have dealt with far more serious sleep disturbances than I was presently dealing with.

From about age five till maybe ten, I couldn’t sleep if my mother went out with friends. My father died when I was three; mom was my world. Babysitters were no substitute—I’d lie awake listening for their movements downstairs. I’d startle awake when the front door finally closed right below my bedroom, signaling Mom was home. Then I’d force myself to stay awake until her footsteps sounded on the stairs. Often she came in to kiss me; I pretended to be asleep.
One hot summer night, at age 9 or 10, Mom left me sleeping so she could sit on a neighbor’s porch and chat. She was just a house away, but I immediately got up, closing and locking every window. When she came back later, the house felt like it would explode from the heat—but I felt safe.
There were many sleep-interrupted nights in my teen years when the lack of air conditioning was a problem; but that was nothing compared to my teen life which intruded on restfulness. Jealousies, worries about clothes, grades and petty arguments—they could keep my mind awake for hours.
College was four years of little to no sleep. During the week studying occupied my time until 2:00 a. m. Saturday night I was up even later—dating.
A few years later, the biggest sleep disturbance ever created entered my life—children. The amazing thing about sleep-deprived parents is after a while, that’s all they can think about. And when the child finally does fall asleep for 20 minutes, there are all those other healthy things to do instead of sleep—like taking a shower and eating.
When babies become teens, sleep flies away again. You might be lying in a bed or on a sofa, but you are straining to hear the car or see the pattern of its lights come up the street or driveway.
Then there are the camping trips, the only-type-of-hotel-we-can-afford-because-we-are-saving-for-college nights. And yes, there were some very comfortable years when the children were settled and living responsible lives and sleep was endless and rewarding. Then the Boomer Highway happened. I would sleep, but always with one thought locked in my brain—that the phone could ring because of my aging mother or my aging aunt. And it did. There were many falls. There was the fall that led to a broken hip. You are sleeping with one ear listening for the phone.

What disturbs my sleep now? For me it’s stiffness and soreness from lack of exercise. Caffeine that might have snuck into something I drank unawares. Hot flashes. Ah but no crying babies. Some of you now have pets so you won’t forget what it’s like to have to rise early to care for a living thing smaller than you!

But the next time you suddenly find yourself awake, remember when your sleep was in 20 minute increments and your partner always claimed that he or she was up with the kid the last time. Or remember years of worry that you wouldn’t pass the test, get the job or find the right partner. Hopefully those worries are gone and you can welcome your present situation. Or do you have other sleep-deprived experiences to share? There have to be hundreds that I haven’t even touched on. Please comment and share.

Here are a few more suggestions to increase the chances that you will get that rare gift—a good night’s sleep. After all, you probably don’t have a sleep disorder but you do have a life!

Try to go to bed and get up on a regular schedule
Avoid napping
Relax before bedtime by watching television, reading, listening to music or having a warm bath
Keep your room dark, quiet and not hot or cold
Sleep on a comfortable bed with a pillow that works for you and enough covers to keep you comfortable
Avoid strenuous exercise 3 hours before sleep; avoid heavy meals, caffeine, and alcohol; and drink fewer beverages so that bathroom trips won’t disturb your sleep
A light snack can often help you get a good night’s sleep
Keep a telephone and emergency numbers by your bed
Have a lamp that turns on easily
Never smoke in bed
After 20 minutes if you still cannot sleep, get up and read or listen to restful music before going back and trying again.

Thanks to Google Images; Thanks to National Institute on Aging;

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Sun Safety Tips

Posted on May 19, 2013 by Beth

Protect your skin and children’s skin now!!

Try to avoid the sun between 10:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. when the sun’s rays are the strongest.
Apply a broad-spectrum sunscreen with a Sun Protection Factor (SPF) of at least 30.
Reapply sunscreen every 2 hours when outdoors, even on cloudy days.
Wear protective, tightly woven clothing, such as a long-sleeved shirt and pants.
Wear a 4-inch wide broad-brimmed hat and sunglasses, even when walking short distances.
Stay in the shade whenever possible.
Avoid reflective surfaces that can reflect up to 85% of the sun’s damaging rays.
Protect children by keeping them out of the sun, minimizing sun exposure and applying sunscreens beginning at six months of age.

Thanks to the American Academy of Dermatology

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Gifts from My Children (adapted from a piece written in 1985)

Posted on May 13, 2013 by Beth

We are the beginning of the gifts that come back to us from our children.

Children give us many gifts; one is to reveal to us who we truly are.

When I was just a child, a daughter growing up, I reflected my mother’s image—her habits, nuances, even her opinions. I was a mirror. She could look at me and see aspects of herself. I, however, didn’t truly know who I was becoming. I changed, advanced, fell backward, tried again, grew. Others saw the changes. I did not as growing up is equal to change. I was just me.

When I became the mother of two little girls, they began to reflect and mirror my image, my words, ideas, habits and actions. Gazing into their faces, listening to their speech and observing their choices revealed things about myself. I could see my tendency to be over-cautious in one daughter. “Mom, you shouldn’t carry all those books down the stairs.” The other sometimes reflected my crazier moments, “I’m punk today, Ma, just call me Punky Weirdo.” One liked her room neat and tidy (so me). One liked a sunny corner to read in and another would cry easily when hurt by a friend. That’s me too. They were both tender to our cat and any child who visited. So okay, I am doing something right.

So much of what we do and say around our children and now our grandchildren, they take into themselves. Listen and you will hear phrasing, tone of voice, and word choice. My daughter remarked recently that she gets why she uses the word “literally” as emphasis. “Both you and dad just used it in the last five minutes.” To underline her statement, moments later four-year-old Keegan walked in and said, “It’s really hot out there, Mom, I mean literally.”

This word usage thing is generational, stretching forward and backward. Sometimes when I am speaking I have no control over what comes out—it is my mother: her inflection, her vocabulary, and often her ideas. I can be my mother, so kind and gentle with a sick child, and so impatient when things aren’t flowing my way. Is that a good thing?

The answer: we finally all decide, I want to be myself. My own self. Not my parent.

And luckily, for both parent and child, I think, we don’t become exact copies. We make our own decisions and alter the paths of choice. We bring along parental things, but we change things up too—we grow more and more to be just ourselves.

I guess we are all like pieces of glass, catching beams of light and casting them off into the darkness or bouncing them into other pieces of glass. We affect and reflect one another.

If we have performed our parental tasks well, our children give us back the gift of seeing the best part of ourselves. They change others’ lives for the good. They earn a degree, a paycheck, start a company, make a good marriage—and there is something of us in each event. There is also something of us in the first argument or maybe a divorce, or a job loss. When we parent, we bargain that most of the gifts from our children and grandchildren will be positive and confirming. It’s always been our responsibility to be good models, so that the mirror we eventually look into—the lives of our children—will be positive, the light they are beaming out bright and positive. It’s a light that we started and that will be carried along to the generations that follow—it’s that gift from our children.

Thanks to Google Images

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Finding Comfort—Everyone Needs Their Place

Posted on April 28, 2013 by Beth

Even a corner of a room can provide comfort and be just your place.

My two-year-old grandson held out his blanket to me: “Make me a hay barrel,” he said in a voice needing comfort. Unfamiliar with such a request, I hesitated. “A hay barrel,” he said again, attempting to wrap the thin fabric around his small hands. Gently I took his blanket, creating a cylinder form that he happily accepted, smiling at me and then burying his face in the familiar shape. I had helped him find his comfort, his place.

We all understand about security comforts like blankets and stuffed animals—some of us might even hold on to such objects, burying them in the back of drawers as we age—fearful that the loss of such a talisman will upset the level place in life that we have found.

But change is inevitable and after a while we might be forced to let go of these objects. Or other items that arouse memories of marriage, child rearing or even our own childhood home. It’s called downsizing; but if and when you are forced to do it, make sure you hold on to some of these comforts.

In the last two weeks, my husband and I have been living at my brother’s house while we wait for the moving van that will bring our “home” back to us. When we need something, we often have to ask: is it at the new house, which is basically empty, or did we leave it in our car, or at my brother’s home, or is it most likely still on the truck, making its way across the country?

We completed the final details of selling our house and buying this new one, in the car, carrying all the paperwork in a briefcase and relying on cell phones as we zipped along Route 40. Unsettling and confusing, to say the least. But we are making it happen and we know we will have the comfort of our own place in a space of just days. The calendar will be back on the fridge reminding us of dates (sorry—the cell phone calendar just doesn’t do it for me); I’ll know what drawer holds extra checks and what clothes are hanging in the closet. (Right now all I packed was jeans and shirts. Getting tired of jeans.) And I’ll be able to set up my computer with my favorite keyboard and write faster and more confidently than I am doing on this laptop. And I’ll be able to unpack and place those items which will forever provide me comfort and memories: photos albums, a wooden high chair that was mine and my brothers, a small child’s chair that was my children’s and lots of framed photographs. I downsized, but I didn’t toss away my memories.

Moving is stressful. My daughter gently teased me, suggesting that I get a new job now and have a baby—because those two things added to losing a loved one and moving are the most stressful things we do in our lives. Well, the job idea is a possibility, but way way in the future. And bottom line—my life is going just fine. I am fortunate beyond words. I have comfort in my family, even if two of my children are living far from me; I have comfort in the love of my husband. Bottom line, I have a place in the lives of these people I love that continues whether I know where my favorite book is or whether I have to put on jeans again today or not!!

And if I get down about this interim period in my life, I’ll think about a woman much younger than I that we see everyday as we get off the freeway. She has a sign that she is homeless. She has a box she holds out asking for money. She needs comfort, she needs a place—and something pushes her to this spot everyday, as her search goes on. I just pray that standing there has not become that place that she seeks.

We all need the comfort of a familiar place—a blanket shaped just right, a drawer where we have tucked that doll that meant so much to us when we were five. Or just a room that is filled with things we like to touch, smell or gaze at. For when we need comfort, it’s usually found in our small space, our place, our “hay barrel.”

Thanks to Google Images.

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From My Mother’s Hands

Posted on April 21, 2013 by Beth

Gifts flow daily as I remember everything she did for me and our family.

My mother’s hands, your mother’s hands: whether still smooth and soft or lined with age spots and ropey veins are the symbols or giving, of nurturing, of the raising of a child. And a few weeks ago I sat at my mother’s bedside holding those hands and doing everything I could to help her transition from this amazing life to the next. Hers were hands that typed insurance policies to feed and clothe three children after my father died. Hers were hands that soothed us when we were sick, and clapped at every piano recital, play or baseball game we participated in to encourage our developing skills and to let us know that we were everything to her.

But she was everything to us–she was our world for all our developing years. And if we were able to go out and meet the bigger world–attending college, procuring good jobs, making good marriages and raising our own children–it was because she made our world safe, interesting, challenging and just plain wonderful.

Gifts came daily from her busy, working hands, gifts that went beyond food, clothing and shelter: an introduction to good music through the Children’s Record Guild, 78 rpm records that appeared monthly with story, song or orchestra introducing us to the classics; books from the Landmark Book Club through Random House that included titles like JOHN PAUL JONES–FIGHTING SAILOR; and trips–auto and train trips that introduced us to places outside the green and verdant streets of our southside Chicago neighborhood. She drove us downtown to visit the Chicago Public Library, the Art Institute, the Field Museum and Marshall Fields Department Store. At Christmas we dressed in the dark to drive downtown and be among the first to eat breakfast under the branches of a huge fir tree that rose from Fields’s Walnut room and up several stories. Then we waited in line to tell Santa what we wanted for Christmas. But we didn’t need to bother as Mom had already neatly typed our requests and mailed them to the North Pole. After her death we found one of these “saved” letters, smiling at Mom’s additions: “And you, Santa, you decide the rest.” She signed it: “Love and hope you are feeling well…and Mrs. Santa too.” Even then Mom knew that the women in one’s life were important too!!

The highlight of our young lives was a cross-country train trip on the Burlington Zephyr that took the northern route through the Rockies and the Feather River Canyon. We couldn’t afford a sleeping car, but it didn’t matter. All day we sat in the dome of the observation car falling in love with the breadth and beauty of our country. Nightly we slept sitting up–but we were kids and easily adjusted. Once in California, we visited San Francisco, Los Angeles and San Diego then traveled on the El Capitan train to the Grand Canyon, Albuquerque, New Mexico and finally back home. What a woman my mother was–handling Bill’s croup episode and my sleep-walking and sprained ankle that unfortunately became part of the adventure.

As we grew and my older brother became a student at Georgetown University in Washington DC, Mom didn’t hesitate to drive back and forth to our nation’s capitol, introducing us, once again, to an amazing city and widening our vision and future goals. She did all the driving, singing love songs reminiscent of her courtship days, The Man I Love, Someone to Watch over Me, Night and Day, wonderful memories for me as I watched the land flow by and listened to my mother’s beautiful voice and subsequently learned all those songs. They marked episodes of my young adulthood and I knew that she still longed for my father and that these songs held great emotion and possibly comfort for her.

Mom never married again. When her hands weren’t busy caring for us or writing to us when we were away at school, or helping bathe our children and teach them games and read them books, she worked as a secretary in downtown Chicago. She kept traveling, going to Prague in her late eighties.

Everyone who knew my mother received a gift from her loving hands–a note, a letter of encouragement or a series of prayers said with her worn rosary beads. The gifts from her hands were endless and enduring and I was gifted when she allowed me to hold those hands as she took her last breath.

Thanks to Google Images

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