Today is Independence Day. The day we celebrate the birth of America. My flag is flying. I’m going […]
Photo Friday: “Picking Up a Baby Bubble-Bee”
This week I hired grand-kids to help me with some yard-work. “Did you know you can pet a […]
“Shane got me some great tickets,” Ducky’s eyes almost brimmed with tears, she was so excited.
“What? I didn’t say we could go yet.” Ducky’s face fell.
“I’ll call him back, and tell him never mind.”
“No. It’s okay. I’m just surprised that you acted so quickly. We can go.”
Summertime is time to follow professional basketball. Isn’t basketball over? You say. Oh contraire; The WNBA is in full swing. Ducky loves watching the games on TV. At least once a year, a group of family and friends gets together for dinner and a Chicago Sky Game. This year, I’m determined
My friend Jan lost her mother this month. Jan is doing her best to keep the proverbial stiff upper lip. In the words of her mother: “Crying never solved anything. Get out there and do something.”
Although I understand her mother’s sentiment. My Dad had a similar adage: if you’re feeling low, look around and find someone who needs a helping hand. We can get bogged down and sometimes we need a change of pace to kick-start us into a better frame of mind. Still, for the most part, I beg to differ. Crying is doing something.
Tears provide us great relief.
There are three kinds of tears:
- Tears that lubricate eyes and make it possible for eyelids to slip effortlessly over our eyes with each blink;
- Tears that respond to irritants and flood the eyes in an effort to rid them of pollen, dust, or onion odor;
- Emotional tears brought on by extreme joy, frustration, or sadness.
I’m a crier. I cry when I’m happy, I cry when I’m sad, I cry when I’m angry. That last one can really get me going.
The heat this summer yielded a chorus of croakers. Don’t they look cool and comfy. From my […]
Many of us face Father’s Day without our Dads. Even for an adult, the process of losing of a father can leave us adrift and bereft. On an intellectual level, we know it’s inevitable, yet the reality can hit us with a tornado of emotions, and sometimes when we least expect it. This piece was written as my Dad was dying, twelve years ago this year. I mark the years by the age of my first grand-daughter. My son placed his newborn daughter in the crook of her great-grandpa’s arms, the day before he dyed. I’ll never forget the look of pure joy on Dad’s face and the way he squeezed little Emma close to his heart.
Grown
When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, and I thought as a child. But when I became an adult, I grew far beyond my childhood, and now I have put away the childish ways.
– 1 Corinthians 13, 11
This verse keeps running through my mind. The one persistent thought among a kaleidoscope of memories that wash over me like waves against a lone rock on the beach. Each time the passage enters my consciousness; I end it with this thought: I was about eight when I put away my childish ways.
When I was brand new at the job I’ve had for nearly a decade, I called one of my best friends. She’s been my friend since grade school.
“I’m the Most Responsible Person.” I explain, over the phone, about my new position as head of Regulatory Affairs for a small pharmaceutical company. “Whenever I submit papers to the Agency, there’s a line that asks for ‘the most responsible person’. That’s me!”
This woman, who’s known me for so long, laughs a deep, from the belly laugh. “You’ve been
She hugged her unhatched babies to her breast like any refugee mother. She ran, frantic and disoriented, […]
Judy Sewell, a bookish student involved in publication, orchestra, marching band, and student council, says she was a plain chubby girl searching for something, unaware what she was missing and unable to identify her dreams. The year Judy graduated from high school, at least one high school teacher, Bonita Ansbaugh, knew that Judy stood head and shoulders above her peers and recognized her for outstanding achievement in publication. Perhaps this small vote of confidence helped Judy have the self-assurance to put effort into identifying and pursuing her dreams. On September 20, 2008, Swartz Creek High School honored Judith Wright (Judy) with the Outstanding Alumni Award.
Judith Wright is a recognized and sought after personal coach and self-help expert. She appeared on over 50 television programs including
If you read Once a Little Girl, you know I L-O-V-E, love to camp and I love adventure. Today, I had some adventure in a tent. A brand new experience for me: A tent sale. I H-A-T-E, hate shopping. If I could, I’d only shop with a catalog, the internet, and a glass of wine. My daughter, Duckie, loves to shop. And I love Duckie. So today off , after breakfast, we head to the Wilton Tent Sale. Great finds can be had there for the patient and persevering. I’m one of those.
Did I mention Duckie loves to talk? She processes everything out-loud. The tent sale is a 60+ minutes away, so Duckie has lots of time to tell me everything that’s on her mind. I get a chance to practice my listening skills. Duckie works at the local grocery store as a courtesy clerk. She’s one of those people; she bag groceries and loads them in customers’ cars. Duckie has the low-down on everyone. She loves people.
Wow! So many people stuffed in one tent: People going up and down the aisles in willy-nilly. We are like