Life is Fragile

You’d think we’d further question our own mortality attending the funeral of a child or visiting an incoherent spouse in the nursing home.  Seems like a no-brainer:  life is short, so make the most of it.  The problem is, life happens so fast and when one company merger butts up to the finality of a divorce, which is wedged in between the school acceptance letter your child has been waiting for and the incarceration of a loved one, you don’t always have the time to acknowledge the fragility of human life.

You don’t notice the emergent yellow buds on the half-yearly dormant tree in your yard.  You don’t hear the birds chirping as you blow your horn for the car in front of you to “move it buddy!”  And you certainly don’t acknowledge your child’s sheer bliss over wearing shorts for the first time since spring has started to bloom.  These snippets of animation are here and then they’ll be gone. 

Sometimes it takes an external slap in the face to remind us to pay attention:  an associate you haven’t seen in a few years is in a near-fatal accident and has been rehabilitating, not easily, for months.  You decide to join that softball team and utilize your legs while you have them at your disposal.   Or you attend a 50-year-anniversary party for an old couple and decide to re-devote your dwindling affection toward your spouse of five years.

Do what you want, there’s no right or wrong way to live.  But just don’t let the days, weeks, or years pass you by without notice.  Pay attention, as the scenes from your life and others’ are playing right in front of you, in all their splendor and wretchedness, and they won’t last forever.  You may live to be 19 or 90.  The years don’t matter, but the moments do.  Slow down and take stock of your senses and your interactions.  Appreciate the beauty and ugliness alike today.

Let it Go

Too much work, too many tasks, too many things to keep in check.  Obligations, deadlines, stressors, and drama, albeit some imagined and others real.  Sound familiar? 

“Let it go, let it go
Can't hold back anymore
Let it go, let it go
Turn away and slam the door”

Yep, a day at the beach is a good way to let it all go.  I feel better already.

Now the reality of getting out the freakin’ door, much less slamming it, is upon me.  Medication or Bandaids to cover the angry, raw exzema outbreak on my daughter leg before it hits the bacteria-laden waters of Lake Michigan?  Will the peanut butter sandwiches get smashed in the flimsy lunch bag once it gets jammed into the wire bike basket for the couple-mile bike ride to the beach in the heat?  And of course, the age-old good cop/bad mom debate of whether I can justify REALLY letting it go and finding room for the sole cider beer that’s been chillin’ in the fridge for the past few days as a companion for the PB&J and butterscotch cookies.  Realizing I’m just making things harder than they need to be by even giving the Woodchuck tagalong a second thought in regards to propriety,  my 5-year-old and I hit it into the sunshine. 

The fact that an hour and a half has escaped between idea conception and clicking on the bike helmets is neither here nor there.  But when the toe jam from the flip flop I’m wearing separates from the shoe’s base, causing me to lose my balance when I hopped down from my bike at a Lake Shore Drive Intersection, and roll my bike, as well as the attached ½ bike where my daughter was perched, proud as a peacock, was another story.

“The wind is howling
Like this swirling storm inside
Couldn't keep it in
Heaven knows I've tried.”

Dammit!  Is my daughter OK?  Check.  Did we fall into the street?  Nope.  The bike’s still in tact, but the day school field-trippers on the lakefront sure got their laugh for the day.

Back on the bike, pedaling the last few blocks to the sandy getaway, my almost-kindergartener tells me she was embarrassed when we fell. 

“Let it go,” I tell her.  “Do you even know what that word means?”

Finally, we see the beckoning baby blue sky meeting the deep azul of the very active lakefront,  and troubles are forgotten.  Get.  There.  Now.

Happy as a clam, plopped in the middle of a striped beach towel, shielding the sandwiches in our hands from the grit of the sand being blown by the wind, I’m confronted with the obvious.

“Mom, will you swim with me?”

I hadn’t thought of that today, on the first beach trip of the season, with the thermometer barely hitting 80 degrees and the extreme warnings from friends (and meteorologists) ringing in my ears about the cold water temps this year due to the extreme winter be just crawled out of, and how we won’t be able to enjoy the summer.  I looked at the goose bumps on my arms and then back at my daughter’s beaming face.

“Mom, please, it will be so fun…I can’t wait!”  

Begrudgingly, I walk to the edge of shore and dip one toe into the surf.  Death-defyingly frigid.  Then my child ran at full force into the lake, jumping over every wave and splashing me high and low along the way.  Oh for the love of Pete.

“And here I stand
And here I'll stay
Let it go, let it go
The cold never bothered me anyway”

After an hour in the sun and surf, the water actually felt warm.  We played, we paddle-balled, we wave-jumped, and we swam with full-body submersion for almost 2 hours.  It was by far, the best day ever.

“It's funny how some distance makes everything seem small
And the fears that once controlled me can't get to me at all.”


---Lyric quotes from “Let It Go” from Disney’s Frozen

Give It To Me

I did not want to get up.  I woke up before the alarm went off at 5:30am and couldn’t get back to sleep.  Instead of fighting the telltale sign that it was time to get up by justifying to myself that I could use another 30 minutes of sleep and then spending the time stressing out about the number of tasks I had to complete in the next few hours or tomorrow or this week, l tiptoed out of bed and grabbed my workout gear.  

With extra time before I had to meet my workout buddy, I did some stretching and core work to loosen up.  With no one else awake, I left most of lights off in our tiny little apartment, and I didn’t make a peep, so as not to disturb anyone.  With only the quiet to keep me company, I let my mind drift away from responsibilities and deadlines and have-to’s, until it settled on vast nothingness.  For ten minutes, I lost track of time and don’t remember anything, even the exercises I was completing.  Then slowly I became cognizant of my breathing, my muscles, and eventually my strength.  I took a few minutes to just be, then jumped up and popped out the door, weights and boombox in hand, ready to face up to some serious kickboxing.

My friend arrived at our scheduled pre-dawn workout time, but before I could even hit the play button, she let loose on my simple ‘how are you’ question with a real answer, “I’m not very good.”

We took a minute and talked through the personal issues that were stressing her out this morning.  She said it felt better just to acknowledge it in front of someone else.  Agreed.

Once the club music was pumping through our veins, and the ears of the neighbors, as we work out open-air on the school lawn before the day begins, we continued talking about life’s and ups and downs, all while sweating our tails off.  Squat.  Elderly parents.  Lunge.  Moving and packing.  Punch.  Middle school nightmares.  Kick.  Flu-bugs and fevers.  Crunch.  Job searches and losses.  Lift.  Exes and partners.  We carried on in that fashion until the sun rose high into the morning sky, quenching us with much-needed brightness.

One hour was all it took.  1/24 of the day devoted to my body and soul.  The difference that hour makes in my day is colossal.  I came home in a good mood.  Instead of the normal stress spilling out between each word I spoke to my family, today’s conversation at breakfast was easy and genuine.  Instead of rushing around the house and warning the girls to hurry up, I actually took a few minute to help them get ready, even though they’re old enough to do it on their own.  The few extra minutes spent with them was a welcome treat.  By making time for the needed physical workout this morning, I inadvertently made time for the rest of my life.

I felt genuine gratitude and appreciation toward my partner for pitching in to help with lunches and meal-planning, as opposed to criticism for not doing things the way I do.  I walked out the door with my youngest over an hour early for preschool.  We did a drive-by of the park, but with no kids there yet, we hit the local coffee house for a “special coffee” for her of steamed milk.  You would have thought I had asked Santa to come a second time this year for how happy my little one was for a treat outside of the daily routine.

“Thank you so much, Mama,” she beamed at my from the back seat from behind her whipped cream mustache.  “I can’t wait to go to school early to play at the park with you!”

With an extra 40 minutes on hand and not a child in site, my daughter and I ran and played and hid and chased until we were exhausted.  She loves babies and a young dad showed up with his barely-walking baby, who became a fast playmate of my sweet pea.  I had a 15-minute conversation with the baby’s father, who now is no longer a complete stranger from the park.  OF COURSE he works at Trader Joe’s….he was so nice!

I headed to work and took time to call my mom, which never seems to make it into the schedule, as there’s never time to just open up and talk.  Again, by taking the time to take care of myself this morning, I opened myself up to taking care, or at least notice, of other people.  Work blew by without issue or stress, but instead with a compliment out of the blue from my co-worker about how easy-breezy and productive I was today.  I instantly got a glimpse of my youngest daughter’s joyful ear-to-ear smile at the park this morning.  Today is the gift that keeps on giving!

Before I left work, I got an email from my girlfriend telling me what a pleasure my mood was this morning and how it helped change the outlook on her whole day from ‘have to go to work even though I’m sick and can’t talk’ to ‘I can do it today.  I’m going to be fine.’

I could go on and on with examples from the rest of my day, or from other days where I’ve set aside time to attend to my body and spirit.  The list goes on and on.  When I foster my personal betterment, I am better prepared to both receive and nurture the essence of those around me.  It’s a win-win for everyone.  Conversely, when I erroneously decide I don’t have enough time to take care of myself, it all goes down the shitter.

I challenge you to give yourself whatever it is that you need tonight or tomorrow morning:  a moment of meditation, fifteen minutes of quiet time, a half-hour of running, an hour of prayer, a morning of reading the cherished tabloids, or ___________.  Stay up late or get up early, but exercise your ability to make your own day, week, or life.  Feed your own soul and in return, you will feel good about contributing to the potency of others.

Setting the Tone

One of my favorite quotes is from Eleanor Roosevelt:  "Life is what you make of it."  I believe that 100%.  While we can’t control all the variables in any life equation, the way we handle the unexpected can be the difference between a positive or negative experience.  Don’t make a big deal out of something you didn’t expect, and it won’t turn into a major hurdle.  Assume the worst of something, and you’ll get what you expect.  Having proved this mantra to myself over and over, both with my own thoughts and actions, as well as witnessing the words and behavior of others, I’m now at a place in my life where I really try to just have faith in this quote’s meaning.  

When I embark on a potentially tricky task, like sewing a dress from scratch for my daughter with my new sewing machine, even though I haven’t sewn with a machine since the 7^th grade, I tell myself how easy it’s going to be and downplay the risks and highlight my ability to complete it. 

“It’ll be great.  It’s like riding a bike, it’ll come back. I’ll figure it out as I go along.  If I need help I’ll ask for it.  I can’t wait to get started!” I tell myself and anyone that will listen.  

I try to put positive energy out there as much as possible, and I’d say a good 90% of the time, I get positive results in return.  While the dress took significantly longer than I expected to finish, and was too short for the older daughter I made it for, it came out super cute and I gave it to my younger daughter, who wears it weekly and thinks I jumped over the moon because I made her a dress.  

On the flip side, although I don’t do it often, when I do set the stage of a situation with a Debbie Downer “wah, wah, wah,” I almost exclusively get smacked down with bad experiences. If I’m tired or trying to do too many things at one time, I’ve been known to put a negative spin on something that hasn’t even happened yet, like going to an organized event.

“I know this party is going to be a beat-down,” I told my partner, Katie, of a recent gala.   

Of course it sucked because I pulled all the negative energy to my side of the room!  The people who started out the evening by being excited about the fun party they were going to, had a freakin’ ball on the other side of the room!  Bottom line is you get back what you put out there in the universe.  

Our recent emergency visit to a local hospital was no exception to this rule.  While driving to the ER, Katie and I realized we had no idea which hospital we were going to.  There are quite a few options for medical attention in our city and Katie was having some unexplained, excruciating pain that needed to be addressed.  We quickly got someone to watch the kids and jumped in the car.  Our general practitioner, Dr. Paine, whose name I mention just for your amusement, had just picked up his 30+ year practice and moved to California within the last month.  We weren’t bound his hospital anymore, but we had yet to choose a new doctor, or hospital for that matter.  We might not even have been having such a conversation about where to go if I hadn’t been so delirious because I was tired.  It was 10pm when we headed out the door for the hospital, and I started in on the over-analyzing I sometimes do.  I brought up the fact that the hospital we were considering visiting was a Catholic affiliate, and that maybe it wouldn’t be the best option for us in case Katie had to be admitted.  The last thing I wanted to deal with tonight was not being able to visit my girlfriend because I’m not family.  We decided we were being ridiculous, as we’d visited this hospital at least a dozen times before in so many years, although never on an in-patient basis, but had never had a problem.  So being of the “If it’s not broke, don’t fix it” variety, we headed off to the Catholic affiliate’s ER.   We decided we’d make it a good experience.  Apparently, my take-back did not suffice, though, as my negative vibes were already out there.

There was no one in the waiting room when we arrived, and Katie was immediately ushered into triage.  While the nurse assessing Katie’s situation was not rude or mean to us by any means, she certainly was not up for any congeniality award.  She checked the vitals and wrote down Katie’s responses very matter-of-factly, then ushered us into a filthy, cluttered room to wait for a doctor.  As the nurse walked away, we heard her tangle with another nurse about how she had “f***ed up her paperwork by not getting the right information from a patient.  We instantly decided we didn’t want to cross this nurse.  The doctor came in within a decent period of time, politely asked questions, and ordered a CAT scan.  He said he’d give Katie something to “take the edge off” before the scan.  The pain medicine never arrived, and after three hours in the ER with no conclusive results for any ailments, we again asked for pain management.  It was given, but was not effective for the ultrasound that was to be performed next.  While I wasn’t there in the room for the actual sonogram, I can suffice to say that things took must have taken a downhill turn, as Katie was wheeled back to the ER almost 2 hours later (the test should have taken no longer than 20 minutes), pale as a ghost and in tears.  She was still in pain, but apparently the attitude, actions, and general nasty demeanor of the nighttime radiologist, Nurse Ratchet, had put Katie into a tailspin.  We then watched the ER nurse go rounds with confrontational Nurse Ratchet, and more profanity was flying.  It was like a street fight in there.

All in all, we were in the Emergency Room for 8 hours before Katie was admitted to the hospital for observation, as no source of pain or problem had been detected.  She was released 12 hours later with no further answers, but with a Dilaudid hangover.  It was a rotten experience.  I truly believe in my heart that if I had not set the tone with my Nancy Negative second-guessing how we were going to be treated before we even got to the hospital, our experience would have been completely different.  I’m not saying that the hospital personnel would have necessarily acted any differently or the results of the visit would have changed, but merely that our impressions might be different had we started out with a Patty Positive outlook instead.   Maybe we would have shared a private giggle with the cussing nurse instead of trying to stay out of her way.  Maybe we wouldn’t have noticed the dirt and disorganization of the emergency room, as Katie would have been busy feeling better because of the good drugs she received right off the bat from the doctor who remembered to put the order in because one of us had made a positive impression on him.  Who knows?

What I do know, though, is that we’re all responsible for setting the tone of our lives.  Bitch, moan, and complain all the time and you’re going to bring on more grief in your world.  Make a point of making lemonade out of lemons on a regular basis, and you’re setting yourself up for one sweet life.