Mothering

/ Sheila / 2 Comments

My favorite quotes about the privilege of motherhood:

“Making the decision to have a child – its momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.” Elizabeth Stone

“There’s no way to be a perfect mother and a million ways to be a good one.” Jill Churchill

To mothers everywhere: enjoy your special day on Sunday. And keep up the good work. It’s a hard battle to bring up children; maybe it always has been. But worth it. Oh, so worth it.

I’m an empty-nester now. In addition to living with me, my heart lives in Arizona, and in Tennessee. If you are a mother, where does your heart live?


Reality check

/ Sheila / 1 Comment

I went for a little ride yesterday. No, I wasn’t at Disneyland or driving some stretch of highway. I was lying on a table in the ultrasound room of the Women’s Imaging Center, waiting for the results of a breast exam. It was a long half hour.

I had a mammogram a few weeks ago, just a routine screening. I got a call on my cell from my gynecologist’s office while I was in Arizona for Riley’s birthday. I needed to come back for a follow up. The radiologist had requested “more views.”

“This happens all the time,” the woman on the phone said. “They just like to be sure they haven’t missed anything.” Well, I was in baby mode, birthday mode, and it was comforting to accept that opinion. I didn’t lose any sleep over it, but I did make an appointment to have the second screening when I got back to Ketchikan.

I went downstairs for the second mammogram yesterday morning. Fortunately for my peace of mind, the radiologist read the images right away. She was still not quite satisfied, and recommended the next step, a breast ultrasound. I agreed; better to be safe than sorry. Since I work in the hospital, I asked the person scheduling to work me in whenever she had an opening. It might be a few days, but she assured me she would do that.

Two hours later I got a call. Could I come down at 2:30? Yes, I was happy to get this done, get it out of the way. A little voice in my head wondered if this was really just a sudden opening, or if there was something the radiologist had seen that pushed me up in the urgent queue? I hadn’t picked up on any concern. But isn’t that the job of professionals? Don’t alarm the patient. Remain calm. And after all, they do this every day. I’m the novice. I can still count on one hand the number of mammograms I’ve had.

The staff in the imaging clinic is extremely nice. I am polite and calm as I check in. The gowns are warmed. The lighting is soft.  No one is excited here, we all know this is just routine. If they don’t seem alarmed, why should I? I could have taken a nap during the ultrasound, except that it’s a bit difficult to relax with gel on your breasts and questions going through your mind every time the tech lingers over a specific spot. What does she see? Why is she slowing down? I know it’s not appropriate to ask the technician to tell me what she thinks. Although I’m sure anyone in that role has enough knowledge to recognize an abnormal tissue mass, it is not the tech’s responsibility to discuss findings with the patient. So I resist the urge to pepper her with questions. I’m a model patient, shifting and adjusting as she completes the test.

Again, the radiologist will read the views right away. And again I wonder: is that normal, or do they seem something that requires urgency? The tech steps out of the room to confer with the doctor, and I’m left to stare at the ceiling and question.

I think the things that I assume most women think: this will be fine. Nothing to see here. I comfort myself. I don’t have a family history of breast cancer. I feel fine. I’m only 50! (Cliché alert: as they say, it looks younger every day!)

Then, for just a moment, I allow myself to imagine. This is how it starts sometimes. Just a routine exam, a little question, another test. And then, something definite. A diagnosis is made. Suddenly the lists are not about errands or chores, they are about appointments, tests, surgery, follow up, treatment. I watched my dad go down this path with colon cancer. I’ve seen others go through this. Why do I think I’m immune from this possibility? Why do any of us think the age old “it won’t happen to me?” I already know the end of the story. I know someday I’ll die of something. But I’m only 50! And that eventual reality is comfortably distant, isn’t it?

I think about the times in life that have focused me: the birth of my children, the loss of a loved one. Or on rare occasions, the poignant moments that stand out, that are frozen in my memory: the good stuff. Why, I ask myself, why can’t I keep the truly important things at the top of the list? Why do they always slip down below the urgent? Why is so much of life about keeping milk in the house?

Maybe we aren’t built to stand the intensity of the deepest emotion, the pinnacle experiences, on a 24/7 basis. They’re intense, these times of insight. They’re beautiful, magical. But intense. Who could live at that level all the time? And maybe, the very fact of routine in life is what keeps the magic in the other moments.

It seemed like a long time the tech was out of the room. Maybe it wasn’t. I was just rounding the corner of all of this in my mind when the door opened. “Ok, just keep up with your scheduled screenings. Looks good.” She smiled and opened the door for me. I went back to the dressing room to change, reassured and feeling vindicated that I had known I was fine all along. Nothing to see here.

Yes, it was all routine. Except for those few minutes on the exam table. They were a sharp reminder of what’s important in life. Funny how the extremes, good or bad, wonderful or frightening, can have the same effect. I left the clinic and walked back to my office, smiling, thankful that this wasn’t the day to switch out my lists. I have to remember to pick up milk on the way home, and the dry cleaning, not schedule a surgery.

What are you feeding yourself?

/ Sheila / 3 Comments
A slice of home-made bread pudding.

Comfort food

Had a hard day today. So I fed myself on a few important things:

  • loving support of some key family members
  • read some uplifting words
  • laughed at a joke
  • had a beautiful dessert of bread pudding, caramel sauce, and cinnamon ice cream
  • snuggled up with a warm blankie and hot tea
  • worked on developing a new blog idea
  • promised myself tomorrow would be better because I’m worth it                                                                                                                          What are you feeding yourself today?

Find of the day

/ Sheila / 4 Comments

So today was disappointing. May 2nd, and instead of a beautiful sunshiny day (like last Thursday…a warm postcard of a day in Ketchikan) it was chilly, rainy, gray. I had turned the heat off earlier in the week, but today, I had to flip the switch back on. It was just too cool in the house to be comfortable. Not the way to welcome May!

I was sitting around feeling sorry for myself this evening, and in a bit of random surfing, I ran across a site that celebrates the little things in life. Hey, that’s what my blog is about, at least some of the time. The truth is, it’s about whatever I want it to be about. Because, that’s right, it’s my blog. I read some of the posts, and each one brought a smile to my face. I felt my sunny side up coming back. Just because the day outside is dreary, that doesn’t mean I have to be down.

I looked around to choose what to celebrate now, this very minute. Hmmm…nothing jumping out at me…

Ok, how about this? I’m uploading Riley photos to Flickr, getting ready to make a photo book of her first year of life. Looking back at the photos is an amazing review of her little face, her rapid growth, her changing smile and emerging personality. That’s a good thing!

Or this? Made a cake, chocolate, with cream cheese frosting, and after giving away most of it, I still have a decadent piece saved to treat myself for the next few nights.

Or this? My hair has grown long enough I can pull it up in a pony tail, and my bangs are long enough that I can pull them back…ok, I know this is only of interest to me, but it’s a small personal triumph.

Or this? I’m downloading books left and right on my Kindle. What a kick!

Or this? Did a good deed Saturday. Made me feel good all the way to today!

Or this? Listened to great music all afternoon on Pandora.

Or this? Ticked off several to dos last weekend and feel ready to start the week.

Or this? Added the link http://1000awesomethings.com/ to my blogroll. Take a peak for yourself. Can’t vouch for all of the content, but it seems like a great source for celebrating the good and the small. As Julie Andrews sang, “these are a few of my favorite things.”

Well, well, well…May is looking up. How about you? You don’t have to find 1,ooo things to celebrate. But how about one? Or two? Have a good time listing your own awesome things.

May!

/ Sheila / Leave a comment
A cruise ship in San Deigo Bay, August 15 2004

May 1st…not the first day of summer on the calendar, but I can’t associate the month of May with chilly spring weather. It may be like that in reality, but in my head, May is about sunshine and the first summer clothes of the season. It’s the month I cannot bring myself to wear the heavier layers of winter any more, whatever the temperature may be when I’m dressing. I’ve sent my wool coat to the cleaners, and I’ll freeze before I take it out of it’s plastic bag this side of October.

I have the first daffodil in my flower bed. The green shoots have been up for a while, but now I have one yellow flower to greet me. The first cruise ship of the season will dock on May 8, and I look forward to seeing the huge festive ships in front of my windows again. The downtown merchants have tidied up and spruced up after the winter season, in preparation for the thousands of cruise ship passengers that will be in port on a daily basis for the next several months.

Mornings in SE Alaska are brisk in spring. But there is a lovely anticipation of warmth, and I know that soon, I’ll walk outside without the familiar feeling of bracing myself against the cold.

Welcome, May! Bring on the summer!

Too late to apologize

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There’s a song I hear on the radio, “Apologize.” The chorus says “it’s too late to apologize.” I wonder if that’s really true. It can be too late for apology to repair, but I think as long as there is life, there is opportunity to apologize. Maybe, in the end, an apology is just words, and if there is no power in the words to bring healing or resolution, then the apology is meaningless?

But I don’t think so. Some hurts may not be healed with words, but that doesn’t mean that the words are not important. Validation is important, and isn’t that what saying “I’m sorry” is really about? One person saying to another, “You were right, and I was wrong. I didn’t see before, but now I do.” Or in the words of the immortal song, “I once was blind, but now I see.”

Words are only words. But they are powerful, none the less. An apology is a beginning, or maybe an ending. But most of all, it is acknowledgement. Saying the words can be cleansing and healing for the person saying them. And after all, if you have an apology to make, you can do your part. But you can’t choose how it will be received or if the words will have ability to change the situation. That is for the person receiving the apology to determine.

Some lessons are long to learn. I used to think that if I stepped up, admitted I was wrong, said the right words, was sincere, then of course all would be forgiven. But it doesn’t work like that, at least not all the time. Now my realization is this: just as giving an apology doesn’t guarantee that the receiver will accept it, rejection of apology doesn’t change the fact that it was given. And that it is meaningful, even if only to the person saying “I’m sorry.”

Fairy tales and happy endings

/ Sheila / 2 Comments

Kate and William

Saw a little bit of the royal wedding coverage this morning as I was getting ready to go into the office. It would be easy to be cynical about the whole production and wonder how long the new couple will last. After all, in addition to the normal pitfalls any marriage faces, William and Kate have the burden of living very public lives and knowing that the world is watching and interpreting every word and action. And obviously, wealth and position do not compensate for life in a fish bowl.

But in spite of all of that, shouldn’t they have the chance to write their own fairy tale and happily-ever-after life, if it’s possible to achieve that? Don’t all couples face challenges? If wealth and youth don’t guarantee success, neither do they promise failure. The reality is that whatever the statistical chances of this marriage lasting, only the two of them can make it work, or cause it to fail. Everyone else is an onlooker.

Fairy tales endings are hard to come by in the real world. But in spite of that, we keep looking. Maybe that’s why so many people are drawn to the display of ancient ritual and tradition, watching the parade of family and ceremony that symbolize faith: faith two people have in each other and in themselves, to succeed at this thing called marriage. To beat the odds. To show the cynics. To live happily ever after.

Good luck to them. They’ll need it. Marriage…any marriage…is work. It’s also pleasure, joy, fulfillment, companionship, support, love, romance. But bottom line, it is work. There’s no escape from that. Maybe that’s where the fairy tale falls apart so often. Couples expect all of the good stuff to carry them, and forget that the work never ends, is never finished, is always waiting the next day.

Here’s hoping they understand that ever after began today, this morning. Here’s hoping they don’t get lost in the routine, the pressures, the public face, in others. Here’s hoping they write their own fairy tale, and it ends happily ever after, as all stories with a prince and princess should.

Oatmeal for breakfast; or, I have to lower my cholesterol

/ Sheila / 2 Comments

High cholesterol treatment

Was there really any doubt? About five years ago when I last had my cholesterol checked, my number was good…don’t remember the exact number, but it was good. And the most recent reading? A disappointing 251, in the “high” category, although the HDL (good cholesterol) number is excellent.  The cream-in-my-coffee habit has caught up with me. I’m expecting the lipid police at my door any moment.

So: resolutions begin. I’ll add oatmeal to my coffee habit. I can’t give up the cream so I’ll have to find ways to minimize the impact. I suppose I’ll have to increase my exercising too. Hey, I already drink red wine, so I’ve got that going for me. What else? I’m not a big meat eater, so I can’t help myself by giving up something I already don’t do. You followed that, right?

Why is it that I can manage my weight and stay in the same size clothes I’ve worn my whole adult life, and yet this one little test can threaten my love affair with dairy products? I wouldn’t say I’m addicted. But it would be a grim world, mornings at 5:oo am at my house, without the promise of hot coffee diluted with cream until it’s a beautiful khaki color. And don’t even get me started on butter. I don’t eat too much of it these days. I don’t bake a lot, and most of what I bake I give away. I don’t cook a lot in general. But if a recipe calls for butter, that’s what I use. I can’t do margarine or other plastic products passing themselves off as dairy. I’m in the camp of “I’d rather have a small amount of the real thing than a lot of imitation.”

Hmmm….Paula Deen, where are you? And I wonder what your cholesterol number is? I notice you don’t offer full disclosure on your Food Network programs. Think I’ll have to rewrite that old rhyme: “Butter, butter, everywhere, and not a bite to eat.”

Well, as it turns out, I like oatmeal, so that won’t be too difficult to add. I don’t eat it often, but I like it. And I especially like it with brown sugar, a pat of butter, and just a splash of cream. Uh oh….

See you at the gym!

The sweet life

/ Sheila / 1 Comment

Sedona, AZ

Today, life is sweet because of:

  • baby kisses from Riley
  • phone calls from family
  • a shared look
  • Arizona sunshine
  • a good book
  • peace in my heart

What makes your life sweet today?

Movies as life

/ Sheila / 2 Comments

Since their invention, movies have had a special place in viewers’ hearts. As with books, there are movies genres to fit all tastes and moods. I usually pick chick flicks (no surprise there) or comedies, but now and then there’s a bit of human drama that is portrayed so beautifully, so compellingly, that I actually have to purchase the movie to watch again.

Such a treat is “The King’s Speech.” I saw it recently, and was completely charmed and touched by the story of a man who was burdened with both a royal role and a speech impediment. Bad enough to have one or the other, but both? Colin Firth very convincingly portrayed this reality, the story of King George VI, who came to the throne as King of England and the British empire during the late 1930s, following his brother’s abdication. The movie focuses on the weight of the responsibility the king feels as war with Germany looms and he is tasked with leadership of his country. Compounding the weight of the job is the stammering impediment he struggles against. Impossible to hide speech difficulties in the new era of radio.

Colin Firth’s ability to imitate the speech patterns of someone who stutters was Oscar-worthy, as was the story itself. You feel the pain of the poor little rich boy as the king recounts in a scene with his speech therapist that he was mistreated as a child by a nanny who withheld food from him, and that it took his parents three years to notice. In another scene, he says he is part of a firm, not a family.

The life-long impact of damage done in formative years is clearly seen, as is the reality that wealth and status don’t insulate anyone from hurt. We are quick to recognize the shortcomings of adults, but how often do we have the opportunity to understand the components that shape the people around us? As illustrated in the movie, even other family members may not realize the emotional battle of a son, brother, daughter, sister. Relationship does not equal insight.

But ultimately, the movie is about overcoming: overcoming circumstances, overcoming personal challenges, overcoming the negative influence of others. The king had one person in his life who was his champion (at least as portrayed in the movie; I can’t vouch for the historical accuracy here). His wife was his cheerleader, his defender, his partner, and she accepted him as he was, but she also sought to help him face the difficulties of his life. Some people are fortunate enough to have such a partner. The really fortunate ones even recognize it.

There are times when each of us needs, and when we can give. And maybe the role changes in relation to the people around us at a given moment. Watching this story, set long ago against the dramatic backdrop of a developing WWII, I realize that regardless of the big picture, there may be a personal triumph or tragedy unfolding. I can’t be a champion for everyone in my life. But there are those I can touch. And the real work begins with seeing.

Who is part of your life that needs your insight, your compassion? When you really think about it, the answers may surprise you. I’m sure that few people would have seen a needy and insecure person in the king of England. But there he was, hiding behind the formality and protocol of the office. Sometimes the ones we least suspect of need are the very people with the greatest deficit.

Look. See. Love. Repeat.