The Glass is Half-Full

Not sure what musical those lyrics are from or even if I got them right - 'kiss today goodbye. the sweetness and the sorrow . . ." But that is the song I cannot get out of my head. Despite the fact that it's Christmas and there is a barrage of Christmas songs on the radio and stereo and everywhere. No Jingle Bells for me. Silent Night is mute. Oh Come All Ye Faithful has left my head. Instead the tune and words that keep playing are "kiss today . . ." or is it "THE day." Whatever the correct words - the sentiment is one I am feeling deeply. It's not this day in particular that I wish to kiss adieu - but this year. 2010 cannot end soon enough for me. While there have been a few highlights - most of which I've blogged about - the low lights are what comes to mind when this Pollyanna thinks back on the year that was 2010. Not only John's cancer - which colored nearly everything since he was diagnosed in February, but my sister Kelli's b

Wally and me watched 'Marley and Me' while I cried about Sandy and me. Once again, I turned on the tv to keep me company while doing crunches and saw that it was the last fifteen minutes of Marley & Me. "Perfect," I thought. "It's been long enough since Sandy's passing that I should be able to watch this without falling to pieces." Well, if ands and buts were candy and nuts . . . oops wrong saying. What I mean to write is that if I had to eat my words everytime I said something that was later proven to be false, I'd be a whole lot larger than I already am. I fell to pieces within moments of watching. And dear, sweet, havoc-wreaker Wally just looked at the tv and then at me, cocked his head and began to lick away the tears. I'd like to think he was being kind but I think instead he liked the taste of the salty tears. He was curious when onscreen there was a full head-shot of Marley - again, he cocked his head and watched and them res

Okay the glass may be half full, but right now it's filled with something other than liquids. I feel like crap. That's all I can say about that. It was a possibility that the crap was going to hit the fan - stress isn't kind on the bodies of people with MS. And while a lot of the stress I've been experiencing lately has been good (state championship games and high school play rehearsals and Thanksgiving and a new puppy) - my body is reacting. I won't go into all the gory details - suffice it to say that walking is challenging, fatigue is my new BFF, and numbness all over is the new 'normal'. It's a half-full glass of suckiness. I actually have a home nurse coming tomorrow to load me up with solmedurol - an IV steroid. It's an exacerbation and I have been fortunate (see there's a positive) to have had few of these in my nearly 20 years with this awful disease. I hate that I have to use a cane. I hate that I can't take my little black hav

Puppies are like toddlers - in oh, so many ways. Some of them adorable and some are less so. In recent weeks with Wally (Wallace when he's being less than adorable) I am reminded of: one, when the three-not-so-little Piggins were toddlers; two, the movie and book "Marley and Me" and; three, why puppies are not for the weak. Like a toddler, when Wally isn't getting the attention he apparently believe is his due, he acts out and becomes Wallace. Like right now, I am trying to catch up on my writing and laundry and he is sitting on the coach (a no-no), ripping various papers to shreds (also a no-no especially when it's homework) and trying to jump up on the table or counter (again, frowned upon big time). I find that I am trying to pick my battles - but do there really need to be so many of them? Wallace might begin to think his name is "Wally No". I had the same thoughts when the kids were toddlers. Only they didn't try to shred papers and they we

I'm holding on tight - as though desperately trying to squeeze the last remnants of toothpaste from the tube. Like the last one to leave a show, the lights have come on, the other spectators have left the stadium, the maintenance staff is in cleaning up and life has resumed to normal for everyone else - but I am held fast in my seat with my eyes closed attempting to keep every last moment of the 'show' alive in my mind. I am the fat lady and I refuse to sing that first note because that would mean this dream ride is over and I'm just not ready for it to end just yet. Oh, what a ride it's been for the boys of fall and their fans! They did the impossible in many ways - they came from 'nowhere' to be the second best team in the state of Michigan defeating opponents with better records that were usually favored to win. This small band of Indians played well beyond their numbers or size - they were giants on the field. And off - as they taught others about go

It's our own March Madness right here in Saugatuck - but it's happening in November. Should we call it November Delight?? I cannot help, throughout this past month, thinking of the movie "Hoosiers". The basketball team depicted in the movie was an underdog from a small town who got to play in the state championship in the big house. On the way to many of their games, the team bus was followed by a plethora of fan cars driving through the rural areas and small towns of Indiana. As the victories mounted, the number of cars increased. This was a team that was loved by its town. All of you Saugatuckians - does that ring true or what??? We have driven through many a small town and rural farm land on our way to playoff games against St. Joseph, North Adams and Climax Scotts - and even in the regular season to teams like Bloomingdale and Lawton. At each playoff game, the number of cars driving these rural routes has increased and our stands, the visitor stands, have al

I have written many blogs this week - but have posted none. Not one of them seemed to ring true to what I was thinking or feeling this past week - I have been too scattered, unable to focus and more than a little ADD. It's because my plate is overflowing! Matthew and the Saugatuck football team snagged a place on the field at Ford Field after a nail-biter today. All along, this was a team that wasn't predicted to go far this season; they were young and there weren't many of them. Each of the playoff games have been a gift - and for a couple days prior to these games it has been difficult for this new football fan to sleep. Stress!!! And then Delaney is in rehearsal for her first play at Holland High school - The Three Musketeers. She is in a different school and in many ways, especially during this playoff season, a different world! Her rehearsals are nightly, including Fridays and she has had to miss the playoff games.  I've had to arrange transportation for ou

Friday night lights were blazing last week - when for the first time in the history of our little town, the Saugatuck Indians clinched the district title! You can see the sheer joy on Matthew's face and the pride in his father's eyes in the picture above. Leading up to and during the game, there were several things that made the victory even more sweet. The first being that the sports writers in the area, to a person, all predicted the opponents, Climax-Scotts, to win. They'd had a perfect season - until Friday. The second was that we had to travel quite a distance (nearly 90 minutes) to get to the game. And the weather was frigid and snow was blowing - thankfully it was blowing towards the Climax-Scotts stands and was at our backs. And then our quarterback injured his shoulder and had to sit out for a good portion of the game. Thankfully, the replacement quarterback (a sophomore called up for the playoffs from the junior varsity team) did not let the stress effect his pl

When I tell the three not-so-little Piggins or my ever-patient spouse that I will be 'right back' as I run into the local grocery or stop to visit a friend after church - they look at me, roll their eyes and comment something like "Yeah right back - more like in an hour!". And living in a small town, where you're likely to know nearly everyone in the grocery store, it's difficult for a social person to just ignore all the potential conversations you can have. Matthew often has to work on Sundays and when he does, he leans over during the church service to remind me that we have to leave right after the service ends. There are often so many people that we need to chat with - especially since John's cancer treatment. It's not a rarity that we actually take two cars to church on Sunday - now that's pathetic since we live about a two miles away! But come Monday, especially after a social Sunday, I will be a recluse. I won't answer the phone (an

How can such a cute, little black puppy wreak so much havoc in such a short time?! If he gets bored, which he does when it's only me around, he finds all kinds of interesting ways to get my attention by destroying or attempting to destroy things not for his chewing . . . right now it's the cable to the old TV that's sitting in my office that John wants to get repaired and is now just taking up space. A lot of space. Moments ago, it was the Solutions catalog. And moments before that it was the surge protector from the living room (thankfully nothing was currently plugged into it nor was it plugged into anything). And prior to that it was one of the pots for plants that I had stored on the porch. And shortly before that, it was the remote to the Wii. I played with Wally for about 20 minutes and then decided I had time to get some work done - important stuff like unloading the dishwasher and checking my Facebook. Now, I'm wondering when is nap time!? It's reminis

Did I just seriously hear a radio announcer talking about relationships between Democrats and Republicans? Did he just say that over 50 percent of respondents in a recent poll said they could not date someone from an 'opposing' party???? Hell, I've been married to an 'opposing' party for 22 years and been together off and on for another 8 . . . we knew going in that we didn't agree politically but we agreed on the major and life issues. Like children, world peace, the environment . . . We appreciate our mutual passion for and interest in politics and the political process. But politics doesn't belong in the bedroom anyway. Every couple years, especially when The Shrub was in office, the debates in our home are more often and a bit heated. Yet, we continue to respect one another while disagreeing on divergent opinions. Once we let politics become divisive enough that 50 percent could not relate to a person of another party, we have let it get too personal

The Do-Not-Call Registry was one of the best bits of usable legislation for the everyman. We could call this number or log on to a web site and register our phone numbers to take our names off the rolls for telemarketers. Suddenly, it seemed, the dinner hour could be enjoyed without continual phone interruptions. Of course, the legislators that adopted the registry created exclusions - including one for themselves. They deemed their messages exceptional and vitally important enough to exclude their own robo calls. I know we have received at least three a day for the past week and I don't know how many prior to that . . . it doesn't help that we're a divided household with one registered Democrat and one misguided registered Republican. And now we have Michael - I don't know how or even if he declared a party affiliation! When I worked in broadcast advertising - way 'back in the day' - the political commercials were originally a boon for us sales reps. We wer

That headline or title would not be emblazoned across many publications or blogs - but for me, it's headline-grabbing-neon-blazing news! I have, of course, wonderful Wally to thank for the new-found opportunity to lace up those walking shoes. And walk we do - I've taken him around the block a couple times a day since Sunday. For four years now, that was a feat unimagined. I call it my Igor Shuffle - it's not pretty to watch or to personally experience; my left leg and foot drag especially after much effort. So, it's become easier to not make the exertion. And there are the falls, or trips, as I'm walking- and they're not only bruising but embarrassing. Like the time the nice, little old lady asked me if I needed help after a particularly public fall. It's like the chicken and the egg - which came first - the tripping or the fear of walking? Or should I say, fear of falling. I digress. (So what's new!!!). In addition to our new puppy, I think I have

I am currently at the library because my new furry beast makes writing at home nearly impossible! And that's not a complaint, truly! I would have it no other way. I sat down this morning to journal and had to stop several times because Wally decided that he liked the sewing basket or the printer box or the cord to the computer or . . . Well, you get the picture. After several attempts at re-directing, I decided the best course of action would be to forgo any attempts at concentration and take the newest Piggins to the pet store to get some chew toys! But first, I had to shower. As I tried to get ready for the shower, Wally pulled clothes out of the laundry hamper, pulled a pillow off the bed and tried to climb into the whirlpool tub (might have been a good place to 'keep' him but I know getting this monstrous pup OUT of the tub would have been a feat). So, I decided to put him in his crate while I showered. Until this morning, I thought that Wally was a quiet dog. Not

WE have all heard of "Babe Magnets" - those elusive males that seem to attract the females (babes) with little effort. Maybe just by waking in the morning. I've never met one. But I have met Baby Magnets. You know the type - the person that can make any baby or child smile. You see them in church trying not to be the distraction to the baby/child a few pews away - but that child just can't stop smiling or cooing to the person a few pews away. I have met and admire many natural baby magnets. Both of my sisters, Kelli and Kerri, are such draws; babies and children just adore them and the feeling is mutual. My own children just adore these aunts and often text/email/talk to them all on their own! My Mom is another - and maybe that's where my sisters got the gift! I  envy their natural gift. Maybe it's my penance for being the world's worst babysitter at times - families would call requesting Kelli and if she was busy I'd get booked. Poor kids - I&

I was once accused of laying down on the job. The accusation should have cut me to the quick instead I snickered. I was once accused (this time erroneously) of having had more than my fair share of Shiraz. Instead of laughing, I argued vehemently that it was not alcohol that felled me. I was once accused of being a healthy young woman. That accusation brought silent tears of rage at the inaccuracy. I have Multiple Sclerosis until about six years ago, it was a disease that most people could not even tell I had. Now, as I walk with a shuffle and spend far more time resting, the secret is out. MS is a disease that affects nearly 500,000 people in the United States. More women than men get the disease and it is usually diagnosed between the ages of 20 and 40. MS is a disease of the nervous system and affects each person differently. While researchers contend there is no genetic component (many assert there may be a genetic predisposition), my two sisters have the disease as w

Remember when Hillary Clinton caused such an uproar when she wrote that it 'takes it village' to raise a child? I think Jerry Falwell and Rush Limbaugh and Newt Gingrich lambasted Clinton for believing such a communist ideology; I recall the argument that it was the parents right to raise a child as they saw fit. The other day I saw a bumper sticker (wish I could find it because it would be on my bumper for sure) that read: "Forget the village, what about the parents?" While I believe to my core that it is the parent's responsibility to raise a child, there are parents that cannot for a variety of reasons. We experienced a little of that this past spring when John was undergoing cancer treatment in Ann Arbor and we both needed to be away from home. Thankfully, my mom was able to come and be here with Matthew and Delaney. And there were many 'village people' out there helping to raise our children in countless ways. Big and small. I overheard a conver

I have had the opportunity to do a lot of driving lately - back-and-forth to Wabash College and to-and-from Holland, Grand Rapids and East Lansing. It's given me lots of time to think and ponder the greater mysteries of the world; like the purpose of life, why my thumbnails always break first, the speed at which a state police officer will actually pull you over for and the theory of relativity. Oh, not THE theory of Relativity - with a capital 'R", created by Mr. Genius Einstein. No, my own theory of relativity - with a lower case 'r'. Created by this less-than-genius mother of three and wife of one! My theory is that the absolute worst drivers are those that drive exclusively in the left lane (I call them lefties) and the ones that believe the rules of the road apply to everyone except them (I call them exceptional people). I call it my own theory of relativity because these drivers are relatively unaware of how to drive. You know the ones that are going the spe

Seeing the movie "Gypsy" as a young teen, I remember being shocked by the lengths Gypsy Rose Lee's mother took to find fame for her daughters. I was horrified by what that fame cost the young Louise who ended up being the famous burlesque queen of the 20s & 30s. Mama Rose was the epitome of a pushy stage mom. Rosalind Russell singing 'Everything's Coming Up Roses' classically and musically portrays the ambitions she has that will be achieved on the back of her daughter. As a young teen, I couldn't imagine such a mother. One who had ambitions for herself and one who would use her children to achieve those ambitions. Of fame. Fortune. Stardom. I now find myself as a stage mom - and I pray that I will never, ever be what Rosalind Russell portrayed so well; a clawing, pushy, selfish woman. In the movie she is seen yelling at a director because he didn't allow Gypsy to sing the entire song or something like that. Thankfully, they usually don't a

I grew up in a football fanatic family - on Saturdays and Sundays I can vividly recall playing in the basement while my parents were whooping, yelling and jumping up-and-down upstairs to some Bears, Lions or Packers game. It was hard to play beauty parlor with that kind of racket going on upstairs. Then my youngest brother Michael became a football player all the way to Alma College. I went to a few of his games, because I wanted to be a good/supportive sister - but I really didn't get it. It was all so violent - and that was just in the stands. So, when this lucky mom had two sons, I didn't want them to play football. I wanted them to play chess or run cross country or play golf or tennis. So, I posed this argument to my loving and supportive husband. He didn't think that forbidding them to play football was a good idea. I countered that the potential for serious injury was huge when playing football in high school and later. He countered with the argument that sealed

While doing crunches this morning, I turned on the TV to keep my mind off the exercise I was about to do and the movie "Gran Torino" was playing. It was nearly 3/4 of the way done. Perfect, I thought, I can watch the end of one of my newest favorite movies. Fifteen minutes later, I'm a puddle of tears on the floor. The end of that movie dissolves me to tears every time - and I think I've seen it now about six or seven times. When Clint Eastwood's character goes about his last day - including a lame confession with the priest - locking 'Toad' in the basement, I begin to get weepy. SCENE SPOILER ALERT ! But when he is shot down and is splayed as though crucified on the cross, I become a blubbering idiot. So much softness and sacrifice in one so tough and gruff - it highlights the intensity of his sacrifice for his new family next door. I only need watch the last few minutes of "Gran Torino" to get the full emotional effect. The same can be said

I have a secret - I used to have a huge crush on John Cougar Mellencamp (I think he just goes by John Mellencamp now). He was a Midwestern , rocker, bad boy and I was a Midwestern , disco, good girl. We didn't have a lot in common - but many of his lyrics made me believe we did! I recently heard his Small Town song (don't even know the real title!) - he sings of living in a small town and all of it's benefits. It rang truer than ever - especially after the year we've had. I love living in this small town partly because everyone knows everyone and everyone apparently knows your business. That might sound like a bad thing - but it's actually a good thing. People you hardly know will drop off cookies when they hear your husband has cancer and people you know a little will call and ask if "Tuesday is a good day for me to bring by dinner". And people you know well will organize many people to take care of the many tasks that seem monumental when you're

I am thrilled to have something positive and affirming to focus on - the results of John's PET scan came back and it shows all clear!! The Ziggy cloud seems to be moving and I feel I can see the sun!!! It was the light at the end of the tunnel that has been guiding us along the way. We will celebrate with a dinner out on Saturday - and I'm sure it will be an ongoing celebration each time we are reminded, again, about the good news. The past six months have been an arduous lesson in what is really important in this life. We took Michael back to school on Tuesday - and this year was a lot less emotional for this mom. Maybe it's because I'm numb from the many tests endured this year. Maybe it was less disquieting because it was his second year and we knew it was a good place for Michael. Maybe it was on account that his housemates were upstanding and quite likable. Maybe because Michael, himself, was so eager to return. Most likely, however, is the combination of the all o

The past two days have passed with little joy and I find that I'm restless and cannot focus. I don't like being home because of the thousand reminders of my sweet Sandy and yet I can't be away because I don't feel like engaging in anything other than my own personal sorrow. Yes, she was 'just a dog' but oh what a dog she was. . . I learned a lot about loyalty and unconditional love from Sandy. And in that, I believe that God gives us these loving dogs so that we can learn a little about His love for us - that unconditional love. Even on my worst day when I might not have been paying much attention to Sandy, she was still there and still loving. Wow. There is no doubt in my mind that putting her down and out of her misery was the right thing for Sandy - she must have been so riddled with cancer and in such pain. Her last day she couldn't even keep water down; I imagine that her entire body must have been affected by the cancer. Then I think back to her last d

Even before we got her, I knew what she would look like and we, as a family, had even decided on her name. Because she was going to be a sandy color and we live near the beach we decided that Sandy was the ideal name. It really didn't take a whole lot of debate, which is a rarity in this home! And then when we saw her - I knew. She was small enough that she almost fit in the palm of my hand and as I held her, I looked in those big, brown eyes and she calmly looked back. We shared a moment. And it is that moment that I keep remembering as today creeps slowly by - knowing that my dear, sweet Sandy will not be with this family or on this earth much longer. I am relishing that moment - it was the beginning. We have had a couple similar moments today - when I have been petting her and she looks up at me with the same love and loyalty I've cherished for seven years. We learned this morning that she has cancer - and has likely had it for some time. The vet, Dr. Jim, was compassionate

I am the proud parent of three wonderful children - 19, 16 & 13. Can't even say they're children anymore, really - but they're my children. Through these many years I have had occasion to experience the intense pain that comes to parents when one of their children is hurt - by friends or circumstances. One would think that once your 'children' are no longer 'children' that these painful experiences would abate. Not so - seems the bigger the 'child' the bigger the hurt. At least for this parent! On two occasions this summer my 19-year-old was dissed by supposed friends. Now if this had happened when he was younger - I might have called the offending friend's parents and had a little chat. But you can't do that when your child is no longer a child. Instead, you have to stand helplessly by and hold back the tears and feel the burning inside that is your heart breaking. And then, if you're a parent like me who likes to write and finds so

Grace has never been one of my characteristics - physical grace that is. So when multiple sclerosis made me even klutzier, I should have been able to mentally handle the number of falls. After all, I've been tripping for years and have usually managed to maintain my sense of humor. One particular occasion had me nearly running into a corporate conference room for an important sales presentation and tripping over the carpet ledge; all the materials in my arms went flying - scattering across the conference table and landing nearly perfectly in front of the six executives waiting around the table. A little curtsy and a comical "Ta-Dah" and the tension was quickly broken. If I remember correctly, I landed the sizeable sale and the client often referred back to my entrance as a great sales ploy! Today, however, I found it difficult to laugh after landing once again on my knees. In front of the same exact restaurant/bar that I had tripped in front of the previous week. I thoug

I believe there are two kinds of people - those that see the glass as half full and those that see it as half empty. At different points in our lives, we can change from one to the other - having a great run on life and the glass is half full but once that run ends our perspective is likely to change. At this point in my life, my glass is not only half full but sometimes overflowing. And it's not because life is free of troubles, it's because I know that I'm not in the driver seat and that I'll be okay because God is the driver. It would be THE time to switch perspectives - with my husband of 22 years recuperating from a grueling seven-week cancer treatment for his throat cancer, and having a sister currently undergoing treatment for breast cancer and the other still not at the five-year mark, and all three of us having multiple sclerosis and . . . well, you get the idea. I could be switching to a more pessimistic attitude but it's not in me because I feel His prese

I just read a post on Facebook regarding the dearth of parenting. The poster was describing a scene where two young girls were pelting rocks at some ducks in our little town and how he observed no parents around telling these girls that it was wrong to torture little innocent animals. Within hours, there were 15 responses - all alluding to a lack of parenting that is evident nearly everywhere today. Stick with me here - because that conversation reminded me of one I'd had recently that might not seem related to parenting at all. It was with my oldest son about his concern about the selfishness of our culture - most recently evident in the Wall Street meltdown. He believes that we are too focused on "Me" and not enough on "We" and if we had a little more focus on the total and just not our part, we would be in a much better place. Still there? Okay, here's the cement that will hold this together - those girls pelting little ducks with rocks weren't likely