The Glass is Half-Full

John and I arrived early for an appointment (for those of you that know my husband, you know that this is not infrequent! The story of arriving three hours early for a flight to Phoenix from Midway still gets repeated and laughed about when the 'kids' get together). We found a seat and the waiting room began to fill. We had chosen seats away from the TV where NBC's Today Show was playing, so we couldn't see what was on the screen. Another couple sat before the TV and provided commentary and as the time progressed provided a glimpse into a total different 'reality'. "Oh I can't even stand to look at him. He's so evil" "What is wrong with his hair?" "This administration will do down in history as the worst ever." "The federal government is taking over the states. There's going to be a civil war, just you wait." "They just let all those illegal aliens in and then they're going to give them weapons to take

  When I was a child and someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, the response varied greatly through the years. Having once wanting to be a nun (I can hear the guffaws and peels of laughter now!) to an attorney (I married one and birthed two instead) to being secretary of state (diplomacy was gift) to being an actress (still love a stage!) and to being a journalist (did the latter off and on).  Not once would I have responded to being a mother or bookstore clerk or Weight Watcher coach - but those last three turned out to be my jam. Those last three are where I have found the greatest joy, had an impact and felt most comfortable. And yesterday, I had my last Weight Watcher's workshop saying goodbye to members and to coworkers that hold a special place in my heart. As a coach, I was honored to walk alongside members as they struggled with emotional issues and self doubts but also when they gained strength and control over life-long mindsets that were holding them back.

  Each year I pull out the Christmas decorations and it’s like a walk down memory lane. The ornament that Michael made in preschool with his handprint in clay. or the one with Matthew’s picture in the middle of a wreath made of puzzle pieces painted green. Or the one of Glinda the good witch, we got for Delaney tge year she was Glinda in the play. As I hold each one, I remember the who, what, why of them and I’m whisked back. There are many that not only bear the scars of time but of that damn dog, Wally. When Wally was that ‘damn dog’ before becoming ‘the best damn dog’. *sigh* The Santa with his hand chewed off, the angel statuette whose halo has vanished  along with most of her hair/yarn and left eye are two beyond repair. I have tried to mend some and still others were long since thrown away. They’re reminders of a pup that could be destructive when he didn’t get the attention he desired - usually when his primary carer (me) had the audacity to take a shower or go to the bathroom.

  In the movie "it's a Wonderful Life", the protagonist George Bailey has longed nearly his whole life to 'shake off the dust of this crummy little town off my feet," to see the world. But Bedford Falls, that crummy little town, felt differently about George. And with the help of a quirky guardian angel, George eventually sees that his life and his town were pretty wonderful. Good lord, but I love that movie and it's characters and it's moral and that small town. I watch it every year at least twice and still cry every time. And I wonder too about the man that pushes the devious Mr. Potter's wheelchair and stands by his side- you know the man, he looks a little like Lurch from "The Addams Family". I wonder, what was he thinking as he listened and watched his boss ruin the lives of everyone he could. What kind of an Non-disclosure agreement did he sign, to keep him silent as he stood by and watched Potter pocket the money Uncle Billy was depo

When I was younger and lived in Farmington Hills, our neighborhood would rent a bus and we would go downtown to watch the Thanksgiving Parade. My most vivid memories of those excursions include the cold that would seep from the cold, concrete sidewalks into my boots and numb my toes and the cup of hot cocoa that turned quickly to lukewarm cocoa and last but not least, I remember a few of the floats.  This year, I got to see the Parade from the warmth of the Episcopal Church's offices on Woodward Avenue while sipping warm coffee and eating delectable treats. While I may have missed the full technicolor, musical experience, my toes thanked me! We spent Thanksgiving in Detroit at Michael's (my eldest) and Carmen's home. We could be starting a new holiday tradition - instead of gathering at the Douglas 'homestead'. Since Carmen is due to deliver the next generation, on December 14 we all agreed that she should not travel and we would celebrate together with them in thei

  I love it when I'm able to surprise myself. It's kind of hard to do if you think about it - surprising yourself; it's not like you can jump out and say surprise or think something you didn't know you were thinking. You know what I mean? Here's how the feat transpired.  I was parked in Saugatuck at the corner of Butler and Hoffman, near the book store. I needed to get to choir rehearsal and then come back to the store, so my original thought was that I would drive the block and a half and then come back. But it was a busy Saturday and I knew that parking was at a premium, so I  debated with myself about whether I would drive or leave the car and maneuver to rehearsal. You might be thinking, what's the big deal it's only a block. Even in a wheelchair, you should be able to go a block. And I can. But this is a block with a fairly steep hill and a fairly rutted sidewalk. But if I drive t here may not be any parking spaces nearby and I'll end up having to p