I met the love of my life about 30 years ago…he was just 16 years old, but an old soul having survived a near-death experience and the alcoholism of his father…and being the youngest of 5 brothers and 1 sister had all matured him beyond his years. What initially drew me to him was his quick wit which relieved the angst I was going through in my personal life. I was often accused of being “too serious” but that summer, participating in the production of the musical “Irene” as a member of the chorus, I felt a lifting of my spirit around this boy and we became friends.

We had our first date on Sean’s 17th birthday, and near the end of the evening, he gave me a poem he’d written me that hinted that what he felt for me was perhaps more than friendship. I was somewhat blown away initially because of the difference in our ages, but at the same time I was captivated by his passion. Early on, Sean showed me the meaning of true love and he’s been at my side ever since.

We shared the most intimate details of our lives with one another that our first summer together and we found a solace in sharing our life’s trials, and wept healing tears after which we laughed and loved.

I learned that Sean had been in a serious accident at the age of 13, when he was riding his bike on a country road (going home from his last day of school – 8th grade) and was struck by a car traveling approximately 70 miles an hour. His body was broken and scarred in so many places that it was a miracle that he survived. The doctors gave him a 50/50 chance of surviving, and he made it. Strike one (severe trauma)!

Sean’s mother suffered from rheumatoid arthritis.  I can remember visiting her and she would be sitting and rubbing both of her knees, sort of rocking back and forth while we talked.  She’d say her “Arthur” was back….arthritis. She eventually had knee replacement surgery. Sean’s sister Cheryl and oldest brother Mike also suffer from rheumatoid arthritis. Strike two (genetics)!

20 years in the military and many physical and mental mishaps impacted Sean, including but not limited to:  a training exercise at a pool where the equipment did not work correctly and Sean’s neck was hit, several long marches while attached with the Marines including one where he marched many miles with a broken ankle, an accident where a heavy weight fell on his neck, and what I feel is the most serious….the impact of his 7 months in the first Persian Gulf War where he was part of a minesweeping mission in the Gulf near the oil well fires. His ship The Tripoli hit a mine in the water and the ventilation system had to be shut down for some time. Sean, as a corpsman, treated many of the sailors onboard and some were covered in paint…fumes he ingested.  Strike 3!

Over the past few years, Sean’s neck and back pain have become chronic. In 2009, he had to have hip replacement as his right hip joint was badly deteriorated. Prior to that, he had surgery on one of his knees, not replacement but sort of a resurfacing. In addition, he suffers from photophobia (light sensitivity), migraine headaches, insomnia, needs a CPAP to correct his snoring, weight issues, radiating pain down his arm, pain and swelling in his hands and feet, knee pain, hip and leg pain, nightmares, PTSD, depression, anxiety, occasional dizziness and nausea….

Chronic pain dictates his life and mine. It’s crowded out many of the friends and activities that we used to find enjoyable. Now, it’s about getting through the day, hour to hour and then trying to find a comfortable place to begin to relax enough in the evening to recuperate and perhaps get the necessary sleep to struggle through another 8 hours the next day…and the next, until the weekend. Like others who suffer from chronic pain, Sean’s been to numerous specialists looking for answers and many have told him that “you will have to learn to deal with this”. We have not given up in our search for answers and new ways of coping with the pain.

We recently were given some optimism through Sean’s rheumatologist…..Sean finally had a doctor who listened to him and could provide many possible methods of dealing with his illness and chronic pain. Even so, it takes time for the medications to have an effect and surely some irreparable damage has been done. 

I want to rage against the injustice of this devastating disease. My dearest love is 46 years old but living the life of an old man. He deserves so much more. We continue to seek answers. I’m currently researching diet:  whole foods, anti-inflammatory diet, and the Vitamin D phenomena. Sean’s been researching the benefits of tai chi, tubs and therapeutic mattresses.

Some things we have found beneficial are:  massage, herbal rubs, epsom salt baths, swimming/water aerobics, gentle stretching, laughter, listening and valuing one another’s concerns and providing positive feedback, our favorite date night at a nearby Japanese restaurant where we enjoy nutritious food and steaming cupsful of coconut chai tea and each other’s company.

I just read “The Chronic Pain Puzzle” a feature article in Woman’s Day (Apr 2011) which I highly recommend to anyone dealing with chronic pain or who has an interest in learning more about it. This is an epidemic and millions are seeking answers. The medical community must become more educated on this issue.

At mid-life, most of us begin to take mental note of where we are in the grand scheme of this journey called “life”.  Having turned 49 this past July I found myself becoming more introspective and seeking answers to questions long unanswered, such as “What’s my life’s calling?” and “Am I happy with my life or do I need to make some changes to be more fulfilled?” and even “If I died tomorrow would my life be looked upon as a success and is that even important to me?”

I began to realize that I’d been wallowing in unhealthy thoughts, holding on to old issues that needed to be let go and hindering myself from a positive move forward since my full-time job loss in April of 2009. I also felt that as a woman my voice and my authentic self was often stifled in the company of strong male personalities, especially, and this began to actually anger me.  I felt I wanted to make some serious changes in my physical appearance (lose 50 lbs or more) and in my diet. Our finances were also in disarray and personal bankruptcy needed to remedy the issue, but I was so overwhelmed by months of disorganization (bills, etc.) and all the paperwork required by the bankruptcy lawyer that I again “buried my head in the sand” and let it ride.

So, how could I begin to make some small changes that might aid in resuscitating my deadened self-esteem. Initially, I felt buried emotions surfacing with the primary emotion being anger. I think mostly that I was angry with myself for letting things go for far too long but I guess I also wanted to blame others around me, which was a bit unfair to them. I went off my anti-depressant which I felt contributed to my weight gain and sluggish brain. I didn’t want to be that “depressed woman” anymore….I just wanted to let that part of my life go as she’d been with me for so many years, holding me back from my potential.

I started reading positive articles and books on success and women who had overcome serious obstacles or left jobs that were unfulfilling to follow their life’s calling down a completely different path which brought them much happiness and fulfillment, and books such as Alicia Silverstone’s “The Kind Diet” on becoming vegetarian. I began doing short bouts of exercise using my Wii Fit or taking short walks with my new puppy or just getting myself out into the sunlight for a few hours a few days a week. But, I still felt somewhat alone in my quest and unsure of where to turn for guidance.

At about this time, I received an email from a personal friend of mine who was doing a Vision Board class on an upcoming Saturday afternoon.  I cleared my schedule for that particular afternoon so that I could participate. I had a great time during the 3-hr. class meeting with several other women of a similar age, each going through their own life issues and finding their unique ways to cope. My vision board helped me get a glimpse into what I’m passionate about as far as a possible career.

Dr. Jane advised that she was starting a life coaching program for individuals and asked if I might be interested. It didn’t take me long to decide that this could provide the extra support and momentum needed for me to get control of my life again…so I said “yes” with enthusiasm.

This past week I had my initial coaching session and as a result I have spent several hours actually working on my bankruptcy (using a checklist which Dr. Jane had me compose) and I’m seeing the light at the end of that dark tunnel.  Additionally, I have set up a calendar on-line so that I can plan 3 things to work on each day and begin to see my progress in setting some short-term goals and meeting them. I admit I haven’t gotten into this habit yet. I worked on the calendar maybe 2 days and the last few days didn’t use it, but it takes time for change to become habit and I’m going to persist in working at it.  Dr. Jane suggested keeping a food journal which we can review together, and I’ve also been doing that.

Change comes through small, persistent working at it and I know it won’t happen overnight. It took a long time to get to the point I’m at, so it will take awhile to get back on my feet but I’m getting steadier as I go. I am beginning to feel some empowerment like I’m taking back control of my health, my career goals, and even my future. Dr. Jane had a questionnaire for me to complete and one of the questions was “Are you happy?” and I had to answer “no” but since our initial consultation, over the past weekend, I found myself laughing with my husband several times, shopping for fresh delicious food, and spending several enjoyable hours cooking in my kitchen. I feel a new buoyancy in my step and a fresh optimistic look toward my future.  It’s a new start and I’m worth it!

It’s been a long, tough summer with the loss of several of my music students and Sean’s 3-week hospitalization at a chronic pain facility in Florida, resulting in lower monthly income.  On Sean’s birthday (7-9), we had to put down our 15-yr old dog Homer due to a stroke.  Homer was my first dog and we shared a deep and abiding love for one another.  I was devastated at his loss.  Two weeks later, my 49th birthday, and my mood became even blacker. 

While Sean was in-hospital I impulsively got a puppy, not just a puppy but a pit-bull puppy. One look at the chocolaty-brown, furry bundle with white markings (on face and paws) and those beautiful green eyes gazing up at me….that’s all it took.  I knew he was meant for me and I adopted him. A few weeks later I began to wonder if I’d lost my mind. What had I been thinking? Puppies have razor-sharp milk teeth and my lower arms and hands were covered with bite marks. I slept on the downstairs couch every night and about every two hours Heath would start yapping to let me know he needed to go outside. (I highly recommend crate-training as it has provided good breaks for us when needed and I can go out for a short time and not worry that the puppy will destroy something while I’m gone.)

Heathcliff is 3-mos. old now and is finally sleeping through the night.  He’s smart and sweet and cuddly, especially when tired.  He makes us laugh several times a day and he’s helped fill that large hole in my heart due to Homer’s passing.  Heath encourages me to exercise as he loves to take short walks and be out in the sunshine.  As I’m finally able to leave the house for a few hours here and there I feel my dark mood starting to lift. I hadn’t realized how housebound I had become.

I’ve been spending more time with my daughter Meg, husband Sean and even my sister Tammy.  Had a great phone conversation tonight with daughter Jess who is working at Creighton University in Nebraska. When our girls were teens, Sean and I loved to go out to eat with them and we’d get into some really great conversations.  Tonight reminded us of those days….wish Jess was closer, but we’re really so proud of her and all she’s doing for the college kids she works with.l

Last month I signed up to be an Avon representative.  It’s been fun starting a new venture, making some new friends, and trying out the products. I’m hoping to continue to set goals with Avon and work to meet them and grow in confidence and become more empowered. One goal is to save up $400 needed so I can become certified in Kindermuzic and then offer classes for toddlers at the store where I work.

Over the past few weeks I’ve gotten 3 new music students and a 4th will start at the end of September.  Sean’s been on a 30-hr work week over the summer and is looking at going back to 40 hrs within the next month or so (when his FMLA is up).  Mom and Dad refinanced our house so that our payments are a couple hundred less each month (we divide the mortgage payments up equally).

This Saturday, I’m taking a course to make a Vision Board to assist me in looking positively towards my future.  I may even take some life coaching sessions with a doctor friend of mine.

Puppy, sunshine, new job venture, new music students, financial upswing, exercise, quality sleep, reconnecting with family members……natural mood enhancers!!

Most of us aren’t trained in the art of parenting, however, there’s no lack of parenting experts or those willing to give their advice whether  asked for or not. This begins almost from the moment of conception, or at least once you’ve made it known that you are “expecting”. Out come all the nightmarish tales detailing what to expect over the next seven to eight months (morning sickness, cravings, weepiness, frequent bathroom trips) and the stories of the pain of hours’ long labor and delivery, stories of parents of children with disabilities, etc.

As the oldest of four children and having spent many years babysitting for extra cash, I thought I had the inside advantage and lots of insight into parenting. I was ready to become a parent at 22. Even so, I frequented the library and bookstores picking up and devouring the current literature on pregnancy and parenting. I listened to advice from friends and family members and retained the information that seemed logical or pertinent, and tried not to let the scary stories inhabit any part of my consciousness. But near the end of my first pregnancy I would wake in the night and wonder how my own delivery would go and whether my baby would be normal.

My labor began when my water broke in the wee morning hours, and I woke my sister telling her to “get mom”. Mom was sure my water didn’t break as this was not how her labor had ensued. I had predetermined to have natural delivery and to breastfeed my baby. Mom bottle-fed us kids but all the books I’d ingested detailed the importance of breastfeeding in providing your baby with immunities and a good start to life. My mom was my labor coach and she put socks on my cold feet and massaged my back (the back labor was awful) through the final contractions prior to delivery, and after just seven hours of labor our first-born, Megan, came into this world. She was tiny at just 5 lbs. 11 oz. with a slightly jaundiced skin-tone and a shock of reddish hair. She looked to me like a doll and it was love at first sight.

As a new mom, I wanted to do everything right and avoid any pitfalls or following in my own mom’s footsteps. I had only just begun to see my parents without the “sin-covering eye”, as imperfect humans and I felt I could certainly provide my own child with everything she might need and improve upon what I saw as missteps my own parents had made with me. “Live and learn”, as they say. Twenty-six years later I see the humor in this and can say that I certainly fell into my own potholes on the road of parenting. We’re all imperfectly human and although we may have the best of intentions, life can and will throw us a curveball from time to time.

I’ve always felt that my siblings and I grew up in very different households, but in actuality we did live for several years in the same house. My folks’ style of parenting changed over the years and perhaps their focus also changed with the needs of each additional child. This was true in Sean and my home, also. It’s very interesting because each child has their own unique personality and quirks, so although you have some advantages with the second child (having parented for some time prior to their arrival) you have to obtain different skills with each new addition to your family.

For example: Megan was a very sensitive child and loved to be held and cuddled. She was an early talker and by the age of three asked at least a hundred questions a day some of which almost required researching to provide her with the correct answer (you think I jest!).  Jessica was a very tactile learner and wanted to be put down (not held) to explore the world around her. Her motor skills developed quite early. She would check in with mommy for a brief hug and then quickly go back to whatever had caught her interest. Although she suffered from chronic ear infections, she would retain information easily and quickly through her art of listening. Books didn’t hold much interest for her, unlike her sister who was a visual learner and devoured books from infancy. (I should note that this has changed over time and both my girls are now avid readers, like their mom.) Each child had varying needs which I endeavored to meet to the best of my limited ability. Sociability came quite easily for Jess who had a quick wit and easy going nature. Megan, in childhood, didn’t enjoy sleepovers at friends’ houses. She was most comfortable in her own environment. Of course, both girls are quite adept in social situations at this time in their lives and have numerous close friendships.

Jessica was born in Honolulu, Hawaii. Perhaps some of her independent nature can be attributed to the fact that we were thousands of miles from home and were unable to reach out to family members for assistance with this child. Megan had been born in Greenfield, IN where I grew up and for the first three months of her life she was constantly picked up and carried around by various family members. Megan was 4 months old when Sean and I moved to Hawaii and his new duty station at Pearl Harbor on Oahu.

With my second labor, my water also broke early on. I was in the process of cleaning up my house because I knew delivery was upon us. Sean and I had talked the weekend prior and discussed what we might do if he was out at Ford Island (in the middle of Pearl Harbor) on duty when my labor began. I had a feeling in my gut that this would be the case, and I so wanted him to be present for the birth of our second child. On the afternoon of March 17th, St. Patrick’s Day, sure enough my water broke and where was Sean but on Ford Island. I had no choice but to enlist the aid of my nearest neighbor to transport me to the hospital and watch Megan for me. Luckily, Sean was able to contact another sailor to stand his duty, jump on the ferry back to the base, and then catch a ride to the hospital. This labor was just 3 hours and the nurse told Sean  of me that “she’s held off pushing until you got here”. He just made it.

Jessica came into the world “face up”, literally. It was quite an intense labor and I was so relieved when it was all over. She was the most perfect baby girl with rosy skin and plump little appendages, weighing in at 7 lbs. 9 oz. I was quite upset when they whisked Jessica and Sean out of the delivery room and I didn’t get to see her again for a few hours. I’m still not sure what the delay was but it was Tripler Army Medical Center and we had to play by their rules. At least I was able to keep the baby in the room with me, thereafter. I couldn’t wait to get home with her. The staff had me keep a checklist detailing how long Jess nursed on each side and when she urinated and moved her bowels. They insisted that I nurse Jess for equal time on each breast, but she’d always fall asleep after a few minutes of nursing. Finally, I was summoned to the nursery where they rudely wakened my baby with cold compresses to her face and body. They said, “This is your first baby?” and I informed them that she was my second child. Seems funny in retrospect.

I think I’ll end this blog for now….but there are many other parenting stories to tell.  Parenting is a journey as is all of life and it has it’s endless rewards. I’ve been blessed with two beautiful girls who every day enrich my life in numerous ways. I know they will each someday be moms and have their own parenting styles and stories to share, and I can’t wait to be a grandma.

My love affair with music began in early childhood. There were two pianos in our home and they were often in use, especially when company arrived and we would be asked to entertain. Throughout my childhood we performed often at Bahai gatherings.  I would play piano or sing and my sister Tammy would dance, ballet or tap.

I have fond memories of long car trips to grandma’s house and begging Mom and Dad to sing to us.  They would pull out their repertoire of church hymns learned in their youth, and move on to folk songs or perhaps Christmas carols (depending on the season).  Sometimes we’d all join in a round, such as “White Coral Bells”, and ultimately I’d drift off to sleep listening to their bass/soprano voices blended in soft harmony.

Mom always gave piano lessons as a side income, and there was a time that Dad gave voice lessons, also.  Mom taught me some piano when I was very young, but I wasn’t a patient student under her tutelage (as is often the case with parent/child studies) and I began lessons outside the home in fifth grade.

Mrs. Morehead, my piano teacher, was an accomplished pianist and had played with the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra (where her husband played percussion). As I progressed in my studies with her, I particularly remember the scales work that she had me learn.  I eventually knew every scale, inside and out, and could play them one after the other in an intricate and intertwined manner that I wish had stuck with me all these years hence.  I stayed with Mrs. Morehead until my freshman year in high school, when I wished to pursue other interests, specifically drama and she “pooh-poohed” that saying that I needed to practice several hours a day on my piano.  At that point, I quit.  Dad says Mrs. Morehead was crushed as she was grooming me to be a concert pianist.  I was oblivious to this, but I think she hid her emotion from me during that final lesson, as was typical of her.

I began taking lessons from a close friend of my folks’, Jeanine Terhune, who was the choir director at Lapel High School (in Lapel, IN).  Jeanine was more relaxed and I enjoyed studying with her.  I usually made the drive to Lapel independently and we’d get in a nice visit, as well as a piano lesson.

I took up the flute in 4th grade and played with band in middle school and up through the 9th grade, when marching band was “killer” with the high step that was required in those days (mid-70’s) and summer band camp (5 full days) which took it out of me.  I quit band after that year, and instead joined chorus where I stayed through my senior year.  I sang soprano and in addition got to use my piano talent as an accompanist for many soloists and for our choir production numbers.  I participated in District Music Contests with flute, piano and voice and obtained a number of blue ribbon awards.  My senior year, I won first place at district with a Beethoven Sonata (piano) and went on to State Contest where I was awarded a high 2nd place.

I’ve always been a romantic and love nothing better than musical theater. I used to beg my Dad to go to his play rehearsals, where I’d sit in rapt attention, mesmerized from the Opening Number to the Curtain Call.  I’d learn all the songs by heart and when Mom would practice the music at home (she always accompanied), I’d sing along. This was great preparation for my acting debut at age 7 as Gretl in “The Sound of Music” at Eastern Hancock High School (Dad directed, of course).  Later, I had the blessing of playing Maria Von Trapp in another of Dad’s productions of “The Sound of Music” for Hoosier Heartland Repertory Theater (at age 19), which was one of the most amazing experiences of my entire life.

I auditioned at the School of Music at Indiana University in 1979 (in piano), but was not accepted.  It’s a highly competitive school and I wasn’t accomplished enough.  However, I took voice and piano lessons from wonderful grad students there and learned so much.  In addition, I studied music theory and music history/appreciation.

Sean and I sang “With You I’m Born Again” at our wedding.  I also remember singing karaoke some time later at a club….we sang “Endless Love” together and the crowd got up and started dancing and went wild at the end…so much fun.

I now teach piano and voice at a Music and Arts facility in Huntersville, NC where we live, part-time.  I love music more than ever. It enriches my life and lifts my spirits.  I enjoy sharing my knowledge with young people and watching a love of music blossom within them.  I believe that music truly is a universal language and is food for the soul.  It will always have an important role in my life.

The landmarks along the twisting trail are achingly familiar; pervasive sadness, loss of appetite, insomnia, withdrawal, negativity or absence of all feeling, body aches, suicidal thoughts, crying jags, deep dark under-eye circles and bags, a pallor to the skin, a sagging posture.  I’d  wished not to travel along this trail again, but have been unavoidably led back to it by my dear husband who could not help but bring me back to this dark, lonely path.

The trail takes an inevitable turn towards the inner city where the houses become more dilapidated, there are seedy storefronts, the overhead lights are either burned out or shot out, shady-looking individuals are wandering on foot, and I click the lock as I pull up to a last stop sign.

Upon arrival at our destination, things long forgotten come rushing back to me through all my senses; the faint smell of urine, ratty indoor/outdoor carpeting putrid and stained, punched in walls, locked doors, bullet-proof glass separating us from reception, printed warnings advising against weapons or violence, despondent individuals wandering in to wait beside us, a woman cursing at her man, their young boy bearing silent witness, a standard round wall clock slowly ticking off the minutes until five interminable hours have passed with still no sign of the doctor.

Many years ago, my beloved held my hand and supported me along this trail to my ultimate salvation…..different city, but all too similar surroundings.  Some things should change with the passing of the years, but remain disappointingly the same due to lack of funding, apathy, backlash and stigma against the “mentally ill”.

The doctor calls his name and he goes in for the evaluation but is back ten minutes later completely dejected, having been told his condition does not warrant hospitalization and he can seek outpatient services but there’s a “two-month wait” and then he is given paperwork on how to avoid stress and quietly discharged.

The night is pitch-black, rain pounding the pavement, a fitting end to this day.  We slowly backtrack along the trail until with a sigh of relief, we are back at our comfortable house.  As in the past, we will try a different path in a few days’ time and hope for different results, answers to prayers, empathy, and relief from the pain.

The suicide deaths of two celebrity-related young people have been in the news this week, along with the suicide death of a man who plowed into an IRS building with his plane, killing himself and one other person.  It’s unfortunate that there isn’t more focus on depression until it adversely affects a celebrity or involves a rash act that kills.  Mark Harmon of “NCIS” has a public service announcement on television regarding bipolar depression, and it cuts off in the middle of his statement whenever it comes on. This announcement could be beneficial to the public but isn’t a paid ad, so it’s interrupted.

Millions of people quietly suffer from depression and go about their daily lives interacting with others who don’t have a clue as to what they are going through. In this modern day and age, there is still a stigma attached to depression and so people don’t talk about it being afraid that it may cost them their friends or their jobs.  Most suffer in silence which adversely affects their bodies and their minds. Depression can cause actual physical symptoms such as headaches, stomachaches or ulcers, weight gain or weight loss, insomnia, and chronic fatigue.

Major depression has a biological component but there are other causes or contributors to depression, including stressful life events and postpartum depression.  Someone with depressive illness cannot just “snap out of it”.  It’s more than just a down mood.  Depression makes it extremely difficult to handle things that others can handle easily (examples:  housecleaning, cooking, taking tests, going to school , going to parties or large gatherings). The insidious nature of depression can deepen with substance abuse causing even more detrimental effects to the individual and to those he/she loves. Depression lasting two or more weeks is an indication that the individual needs to seek professional help.

Sometimes it’s difficult to connect with your friend or loved one who has depression.  They may seem closed off or angry and therefore alienate others.  Often the depressed individual is not interested in going out or socializing.  He/she may sleep a lot, eat lots of junk food or eat very little (depending on the individual). They may have trouble holding down a job or start a job and quit or get fired after a brief time.  They may overspend. They may not practice good hygiene. They may have difficulty finding joy in the things they would normally enjoy doing.

If you have a friend or loved one with depression and they mention thinking about suicide or they start to give away personal possessions, this should be taken very seriously. This is a cry for help which should not be ignored. An individual in this situation needs to take action and make sure the depressed person gets the professional help they need.

This issue is intensely personal to me as I and many members of my extended family have suffered with depression.  My depression began in adolescence but was not recognized.  It wasn’t until I was in my 20’s, with my own children, that I recognized my disease and sought treatment for it.

What should you do if you know little about depression and you suddenly find yourself confronted with it?  The first thing that I did was to research the subject and find out everything I could about it.  There are many good websites on depression or you can find information/books at your local library or bookstore.  Some books that I found helpful were You Are Not Alone by Julia Thorne,  Feeling Good by David Burns, The Noonday Demon: An Atlas of Depression by Andrew Solomon,  An Unquiet Mind by Kay Redfield Jamison, and Patty Duke’s A Brilliant Madness.  I’ve read many other great books on depression, and there are countless excellent books available on the subject.

The most important thing you can do is to let the individual know that you care about them, ask them if there is anything you can do to help, and if they are talking about suicide advise them that this is a permanent solution and devastating to those they would leave behind, offer them possible other solutions, and if possible help them get an appointment with a professional (they may be unable to do this on their own) or notify a family member that can do this for them.  If it’s a loved one, don’t leave the person alone for long periods of time and try to get them out.  If suicidal tendency is an issue, get them to a hospital right away – don’t wait or it may be too late. A depressed person is usually an intensely lonely person. Show them you care by your words and your actions, and you may save a life.

My beautiful daughters have brought me a multitude of blessings.  With the birth of my firstborn, Megan, I found a love like none I had ever known.  She was tiny and perfect with the biggest blue eyes and I had waited so long for her.  My heart was full and each month she grew and developed brought an excitement to my life.  Megan said her first words at 4 months, no kidding!  She said “mama”, “dada”, “hi”…amazing! By the time she was a year old she was speaking in sentences and no longer thought she was a baby.  She would get so excited when she saw a baby, and she loves babies still.

Megan has a quiet inner strength that I so admire.  She has faced many adversities in her young life with great courage.  Megan has been a wonderful daughter but also a dear friend.  Some people think you should not be friends with your kids but just be a parent.  I believe once your child is an adult that you can have a deep friendship.  We enjoy many similar interests:  books, music (singing together), movies, shopping, eating and cooking, children and more.

Megan blesses me every day with her optimistic, cheerful outlook on life.  As a cancer (born July 21), I tend towards moodiness, so her positivity is definitely a blessing.  Her intelligent and intuitive advice when I’m struggling at mid-life have helped me tremendously.  Her lovely singing voice soars like a beautiful nightingale and touches me to my soul.  Her healing hands (massage) can soothe my aching joints.

Jess was the most beautiful, perfect newborn.  Her body was perfectly proportioned and her skin had a lovely, rosy tint.  A happy baby, she was always easy.  Jess didn’t go through the “terrible twos”.  At the age of 3, she loved to color in coloring books and we were amazed because she used appropriate colors (not just a single color, scribbled over the page) and stayed within the lines.  She enjoyed walking on the beach and collecting seashells with mommy, almost daily.  Jess loved her big sister and would sit at the table while Megan did her homework (1st grade) and copy the letters of the alphabet.

Unlike Megan, Jess didn’t want a lot of cuddle time with Mommy.  She would get a quick hug and then go off to explore the world around her.  She was a tactile learner and somewhat of a tomboy as a young girl.  She had exceptional motor skills and loved the outdoors, riding her bike, playing at the playground, hikes and exploring.

Jess is an inspiration to me by being her own person.  She’s a leader and unabashedly moves forward and often finds the answers to questions by seeking solutions “outside the box”.  Although it’s sometimes hard as a parent to let go, I know that Jess thrives best in living a life apart from me.  She loves to travel and is still constantly learning and exploring.  I so admire her spirit and her way with people.  She blesses me by being an example to me of a woman who can do anything if she puts her mind and abilities to the task.

Both my girls have questioning natures and aren’t afraid to ask the hard questions.  They were gifted with high intelligence and many times were smarter than their teachers.  As a teen, Jess often questioned authority and giving respect to someone who perhaps did not show her the respect she deserved.  She’s worked through this issue, and I believe she can now socialize and work with any personality type extremely well.  As somewhat of an introvert myself, this is a quality I admire and she has taught me so much in this area.

There have been certain times of trial in my life when just hearing my daughters’ voices and spending time with them has lifted me out of despondency.  We share a deep connection that is beyond discernment.  I believe it’s not just a blood tie but a soul tie.

I’m thankful that I was a young woman when my daughters were born, and look forward to many wonderful years ahead where we can explore our mother/daughter relationship and continue to grow and develop individually and as a family.  No matter how far apart we may live, my daughters have a special piece of my heart and they bring me joy and peace.

It’s been a lovely day with temperatures in Charlotte climbing into the mid-60’s.  Megan and my nieces Debby and Deanna invited Sean and me to go hiking at Latta Plantation.  I grabbed the walking sticks I bought recently knowing this would be the perfect opportunity to try them out. On the long drive from the Latta entrance to the parking area, we spotted girls on horseback, people walking their dogs, and young couples with babies in strollers or on their backs.  The Raptor Center parking area was completely full.  We drove on to the parking area near the trails. The parking lot was almost full and the overflow lot had several vehicles, too. We finally found a space for our small Scion.  Walking toward the trails,  I noticed a family finishing up their picnic lunch, and a group of kids playing ball nearby.

We chose a trail that winds through the wooded area and leads to a pretty lake scene complete with a bench to rest and a huge rock for the kids to climb on. Geese were honking overhead and a boat passed near the shoreline. The sun felt warm on my face and I closed my eyes for a moment to soak it up.  The girls jumped down from the rock and we were ready to complete the second half of the trail.  We soon came upon a mom, dad and three little kids with a Rottweiler puppy (looked to be 4-5 weeks old).  The puppy tripped along beside us until Meg scooped him up in her arms. We oohed and aahed over him a moment before she handed him over to his masters.

Deb wondered about my walking sticks saying she thought they were skis.  I told her that they provide me with a handicap so that I can keep up and manage the trails more easily.  Many tree roots crisscross the trail so I found the sticks also helped me keep my balance and worked my arms.  I felt energized and didn’t tire out as quickly as I normally would on the trail. The girls stopped and waited for me to catch up.  Meg said, “Are we doing another one?”  It’ll be awhile before I can manage walking more than one trail in an afternoon.  I’m not as young as I used to be.  I offered that the kids could go again and Sean and I would wait at the car, but they decided they were ready to go.

We drove home with the windows down and the music of Paramour filling the car. Spring is a month away, but the warmth of this day made it seem that it will be here soon.  Megan said, “The air doesn’t smell like spring yet.”  We all talked about some of the things that make us realize spring has arrived.  I love to see the trees coming into bloom and flowers popping up.  It won’t be long now.

Obesity is an intensely personal issue and difficult to discuss, yet confronting the hard subjects in our lives head-on can instigate change.  Why am I overweight….okay, fat? Is food an addiction….my addiction? If so, what steps can I take to overcome the addiction?  What do I fear about losing the fat?  Are my fears valid?

Food can be as powerful an addiction as alcohol, tobacco, or drugs and prove as deadly over time.  Heart disease is the #1 killer of Americans and diabetes is epidemic.  Obesity can shorten life expectancy by a number of years.  In a recent news article, I read that it can take up to 9 attempts to quit smoking before the smoker is able to finally conquer his nicotine habit.  Many say that an alcoholic or drug addict has to “hit bottom” before they can confront their addiction and perhaps overcome it.   I believe that food addiction is similarly hard to overcome.  Look at celebrities such as Oprah and Kirstie Allie who’ve lost 70 lbs or more only to regain that weight.  Look at all the diet pills and weight loss tools on the market that Americans spend millions of dollars on each year.

Just as tree roots go deep into the ground and branch out in many directions, so the causes of my food addiction run deep. One root leads to childhood with those wonderful Sunday dinners of fried chicken or Swiss steak, mashed potatoes and gravy, broccoli with cheese sauce, and dessert (cake, pie with ice cream), another tendril shoots back to adolescent meals out with my best friend where we’d share a large pizza at Pizza Hut and later snack on potato chips and soda, get a $1 bag full of 1 cent candies from Danner’s or Ben Franklin. A very deep root from my 19th year when I lost my virginity in a date rape at IU.  A tendril branching to low self-esteem; another shoot leading to depression which is in my genes.

Am I scared to become a thinner version of myself?  The short answer is “yes”.  Being fat, people sort of dis-count you, ignore you.  Thinner people are noticed more and have to be more engaging. I think my fat insulates me from people and issues that I need to deal with, but don’t want to face.

There are many ideas/ways to begin to change one’s lifestyle to become healthier.  I’ve started writing which is a way to deal with emotions and can be therapeutic.  I know I need to be more active.  I’m not athletic but I used to enjoy walking, so I could make a plan to walk 3 –4 days a week, 20 – 30 minutes for a start.  I drink a lot of my calories, so I could cut out sugary sodas and candy and desserts. I can eat smaller portions and more fruits, vegetables (less meat, especially red meat). I can keep a daily log of what I eat and how much I exercise to keep myself in check.  When I have an unhealthy craving, I can do something else I enjoy rather than eating.  They say to wait 15 or 20 minutes and the craving will usually pass.

I know it won’t be easy, but in the long run it will be to my benefit to conquer my addiction.  I need to learn to engage more with others…to risk putting myself out there.  I want to be around for many years to come to enjoy my grandchildren (some day) and to become the person I know I can be.  I think this is the first entry in my weight loss journal.  My first goal is to lose 50 lbs. over the next 6 months.  Onward to victory!

By way of an introduction, I’m a 48-year-old woman living in North Carolina, USA.  What distinguishes me from other women?  Many things, among them:  I’m a member of the Baha’i Faith (a follower of the teachings of Baha’u’llah (the Glory of God); a former military wife (my husband was a Navy corpsman for 20 years) married 27 years to the same wonderful man. I’m a mother of two beautiful daughters; Meg (26) and Jess (24).  I’m a musician and part-time music teacher (voice and piano).  I’m a daughter (the oldest of 4 children).  A voracious reader, I have a fascination with authors and the writing profession.  I live in a multi-generational household which includes my parents, my husband, daughter Meg, and various and sundry pets (Homer – the dog; Lola – the cat; Coco and Mizzie Moo – the rabbits).

I’ve started this blog as a means of connecting with others and to force myself to write more often.  I’ve harbored a secret yearning to be a writer for the past several years, and have conducted an independent study of the writing profession/authors’ lives.  Perhaps this blog will encourage and assist me in determining if I have “what it takes” to make it as a writer.  That’s my hope and my dream.

In April 2009, I lost my full-time job at a payroll processing company.  The U.S. economy was suffering a dramatic downslide and I felt the impact directly in my life.  I began reflecting on my life at middle-age and decided the job loss was positive, as the job had sapped my energy and had been unfulfilling.  By May 1st, I was hired to teach voice/piano part-time at a local music store (my mom teaches piano there, also).  My part-time job earns me a fraction of what I made as a payroll clerk, but the rewards of teaching music are well worth the difference in pay.

I have more time and energy to give to others.  I’m enjoying cooking and trying out new recipes; renewing a special friendship with my younger sister, Tammy; spending quality time with my husband Sean, oldest daughter, Meg and my parents.  Additionally, I have time to meditate and reflect on life and set some new goals for continued growth (spiritual, emotional and physical).

I’m looking forward to connecting with old friends and making new ones in the days to come.  Please let me hear from you.

Musing on the impact our emotions play in our day-to-day lives I’ve been reflecting on what I’ve been taught about emotions over the years.  As a child, I had an innate goodness and need to please which carried over into my adolescent years to such a point that peers often looked at me as a “goody-goody”.  The oldest of four children, I took on a lot of responsibilities related to my siblings; chauffeuring them to extra-curricular activities (dance class, etc), cooking dinner, grocery shopping, babysitting.  I now believe that even as a child I was somewhat melancholy in nature.  Looking at pictures of me as a child, there’s a haunted look around the eyes and a wary smile.  Mature at a young age, I had difficulty relating to my peers.  I found solace in books and music.  The library was a half-block up the alleyway behind our house and was a favored escape. 

In my parent’s generation there was a saying, “Children are to be seen but not heard.”  Dad has said more than once, “Your mother and I have been married 50 years and never had an argument”.  My memories of the few disagreements they did have were of Mom silently crying and Dad walking out the door until he came back, usually a short time later, in control of his emotions once again.  Angry emotions were not “ok”, and so I learned to stifle my anger or cry to my sappy 45’s alone in my bedroom. 

As a prior Navy wife (for 20 years) until Sean retired 5-6 years ago, we didn’t settle anywhere for long.  A normal tour of duty lasts about 3-4 years and often we’d have another move during that timeframe (example:  In Hawaii, the first year (1984) we lived in an apartment in Kalihi, then moved to base housing in Pearl City.)  I learned to not get too close or intimate with others because before too long they would be out of my life.  Sean and I had some loud arguments in our youth, but the vicissitudes of life bound us together and we came to depend upon one another and let minor issues go rather than flare-up.

Four years ago, we sold our home in the Kansas City area and jointly purchased a home with my parents in North Carolina.  Since that time many old patterns of behavior (from my childhood) have returned.  It’s difficult at times for me to find appropriate ways to show or direct sadness and anger.  At this mid-point in my life, I’m going through hormonal changes which directly impact my emotions.  Anger and sadness have been “coming to a head” and I’m researching how to better channel my emotions so they’re not directed onto those I love.  Meditation, exercise, social interaction, and this blog are good beginnings.  I’ll keep you posted….

Why pray? Who do we pray to? Do we ask for material wants or is that selfish?  Can prayer play a role in healing?  What’s the proper way to pray? With so many people praying in the world, why would God listen to my prayer/plea and assist me?

As a Bahai, I believe that God is an Unknowable Essence, and that we can only begin to learn about God through his Manifestations or Prophets who were men of the flesh (as are we) but received God’s revelation and spoke the Word of God and passed His message/teachings to man in a way that we can understand.  Prayer provides a spiritual means of connecting man to God and assists our soul’s development, both in this world and the next.

We can pray to the Manifestation or directly to God. Some pray to souls who have passed on to the next life for their assistance.  We believe that if we pray for a soul that has passed on, that soul will progress in the next life.  Bahai’s have the wonderful blessing of prayers written by Baha’u’llah, The Bab (the prophet forerunner to Baha’u’llah, and Abdul-Baha (The Servant of Baha’u’llah, his son).  We have many prayers for all occasions (examples:  assistance, for the departed, prayers for children, morning and evening prayers, prayers for detachment, healing, spiritual qualities, etc.) In the Bahai Faith, daily prayer is obligatory. We have the option of using one of three obligatory prayers:  the short obligatory prayer, the medium obligatory prayer or the long obligatory prayer.

Often we may pray for material wants or needs to be met.  Does that mean that God won’t listen to our prayer?  I believe that God does hear our prayers and that He answers them in His way.  How many times have I prayed, and not realized the answer to my prayer until a long time later.  Often my prayer has been answered in an unexpected way or perhaps I didn’t get the answer I thought I desired, but the reality is that if my prayer had been answered as I had expected it to be it would not have benefitted me or might have caused me more pain and suffering.  Later I saw the bounty of God’s wisdom in the way things had worked out.  God knows better than we do what is best for us.  One of my favorite prayers says, “…..O God, Thou art more friend to me than I am to myself.”

I’ve heard friends say that they don’t pray because they don’t deserve to pray or shouldn’t bother God with their small problems.  God created us all and He wants and expects us to turn to Him for solace.  We are on this earth to prepare for the life to come (in the next world, after the death of our bodies).  Our souls develop through prayer, service to humanity, work, living a virtuous life and constantly striving to become more perfect through acquiring the divine virtues/characteristics (such as honesty, charity, love, faith, truthfulness, justice, equity, kindness, generosity, etc.)

Studies have been conducted on the impact prayer has in healing, and have shown prayer to be extremely beneficial.  There have been instances of miracles where people with cancer or some other disease have been totally healed, even beyond the belief of their physicians.  I bear witness to the power of prayer and healing in my own life.  My mother was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis when I was 14 years old.  Almost 35 years later, today, Mom leads a very active life and does not suffer any severe effects of the disease.  In her early 20’s and while pregnant with me, Mom suffered an epileptic seizure.  She was put on anti-seizure medication for epilepsy but some time later was able to go off the medication and never had another seizure.  I believe God answered all the prayers given for her healing.

Praying gives me the strength to go on when I feel I cannot face this world and its trials.  There have been times of turmoil in my life when I felt unable to pray, but after a brief period I would turn back towards God and feel renewed and inspired to go on and to work through my difficulties.

Prayer is to be done in a reverent manner.  I try to clear my mind of its clutter and open it to the words that I am giving up to God.  Some pray with bowed heads and folded hands.  Some prostrate themselves before God.  Some sing their prayers.  I’ve done all of the above (Bahai’s don’t prostrate themselves when in gatherings however the long obligatory prayer, to be done in solitude, does have instructions including prostrating oneself and raising one’s hands up to God during certain portions of the prayer.)

“Intone, O My servant, the verses of God that have been received by thee, as intoned by them who have drawn nigh unto Him, that the sweetness of thy melody may kindle thine own soul, and attract the hearts of all men….”

“Blessed is the spot, and the house, and the place, and the city, and the heart, and the mountain, and the refuge, and the cave, and the valley, and the land, and the sea, and the island, and the meadow where mention of God hath been made, and His praise glorified.”  Baha’u’llah

Many people live with chronic pain and the causes are varied.  Chronic pain affects relationships, job performance, mobility, mood, and self-esteem.  My husband Sean suffers from fibromyalgia, arthritis and the toll his body took over 20 years in the military as well as the effects from an accident in which he was hit by a car while riding his bike (at age 13).  Sean is 45 years old and in October 2008 had right hip replacement due to the effects of arthritis.

Many Americans dealing with chronic pain have full-time jobs that involve lots of sitting and stress.  Most companies have a set amount of sick time that can be used in a year, which is used up quickly with trips to and from doctors trying to find longer term pain relief.  Often people dealing with chronic pain have no alternative but to eventually go on disability.

It’s difficult for friends and family members to understand chronic pain as it’s not something that’s visible and the person may not look sick.  It’s important to be sympathetic to a loved one’s needs, but this is not always easy.  There may be times when the pain sufferer arrives home from work and just wants to go to bed or sit in a darkened room watching some escapist television.  Food may not be appealing to them.  Touch may or may not be soothing.  Communication can break down in these instances and misunderstandings cause more stress which can cause more pain…..and it’s a vicious cycle.

Sean and I have been married 27 years but even so we sometimes disconnect.  We’re finding it helps to make some time each day to focus on one another and to ask what the other person needs.  Maintaining a sense of humor also lightens the mood.  Sometimes we just get downright silly or watch a comedy show together.  When things get too serious, let the child in (your inner child) and have some fun.  We bought walking sticks and are going to start walking together, taking some short hikes.

Medical science doesn’t hold all the answers to dealing with chronic pain and we know that sometimes medication, steroid shots, etc. can mask the pain for a period of time but the pain always returns.  Alternative therapies help but can be expensive over time:  acupuncture, massage, chiropractic, etc.  A healthy lifestyle, including consuming lots of organic foods, fruits, vegetables and whole grains is recommended, as well as exercise and stretching.  Meditation, yoga and other methods for loosening our bodies of the stress of daily life can be beneficial.

Sean and I are going to work on a vision board together.  I purchased some poster boards and have scads of magazines we can use.  We’ll make a sort of collage with goals and ideas for the future.

Faith is extremely important.  Sean and I are both Bahai’s and we are trying to get out to more Bahai events but it is difficult because Sean can’t sit comfortably for a lengthy time.  This past weekend we were able to go together to a prayer meeting for the Bahai’s who are on trial in Iran.  We also hosted Feast in our home and it was lovely.  Praying together and relying on our faith in God pull us up out of despondency.

If you have other ideas for ways to deal with chronic pain, please let me know.

“This old world’s a gettin’ heavy…” are words from an old Seals and Crofts song.  We see this in the daily news; the earthquake in Haiti, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, murder and mayhem reported daily, and the recent snow storms which have brought not inches but feet of snow to many areas, joblessness, homelessness and so many other signs that this old world is crumbling.  At times it all feels too oppressive and I just want to escape.

So, I got away for several hours today.  I went to the library and picked up several books on creativity and artistic development.  I did some research for about an hour, picked up a copy of A Room of One’s Own by Virginia Woolf for 50 cents and two old copies of “More” magazine for women over 40 from the used book table (10 cents ea.), paid a portion of my fine for overdue books, and checked out.  I treated myself to Wendy’s chicken nuggets, value fries and a value coke then turned my car towards the childcare center to pick up my nephew.

With about ten minutes to spare before Thomas’ class dismissed, I ate my meager lunch, saving a handful of french fries for my little charge, knowing the saltiness would probably make him wish for a drink which I couldn’t provide.  At a few minutes to 1:00, I waited with the other parents outside the classroom.  I noticed an older woman with a gallon-size jug of Hawaiian Punch which she began hawking, saying, “We won’t drink this at home.  This is what they told me to bring.”  I remembered then that Tammy said the class was having a Valentine’s Party today.  None of the parents was taking the woman up on the Hawaiian Punch so I offered to take it off her hands.  Problem of the need for a drink for Tom, solved!

Thomas came barreling out of the classroom with a valentine’s bag and a bright red balloon.  He could barely contain his excitement.  You see, they can’t eat candy or unhealthy treats in the classroom so the bag was stapled shut, the goodies inside to be consumed after class release.  As I buckled him into his toddler seat, I told Thomas that I had some french fries for him.  He said, “Let me have a hug!”  I gave him a hug and thanked him.  Once buckled into my seat, I passed him the fries and assisted him in opening his Valentine’s bag.  As he was looking through his booty, Thomas said, “I’m so happy!”  I’m just so happy!”  I couldn’t help but smile as my day suddenly seemed a lot brighter.

Megan’s been working as a nanny for two young children.  The baby boy has been sick this week with an ear infection so it’s been a tough week for her.  This afternoon Thomas had a playdate there with the other child, a toddler.  We visit for an hour or so, once a week, and the kids enjoy playing together.  Megan takes a lunch break while I’m there and today I got to hold the baby.

At four months, the baby’s freely giving a lot of gummy grins and chortles to those who interact with him.  I played with him for awhile and realized that my heart felt full.  The baby started rubbing his eyes and Megan said I could rock him in the spare room where a humidifier had been set up and he might fall asleep.  Over the ten to fifteen minutes I held him close and rocked him to sleep I relaxed and thought about how children put it all in perspective.

The last part of the song says, “….slow down easy style, and you’ll be doing all right, cause you love.”