The Glass is Half-Full

The March on Washington was one of the most powerful and positive experiences in my life - all 56 years of this life. And this post, I have to warn you, will be as disjointed as the March! I got to go with Matthew!! And we weren't sure if Delaney was going to be able to join us, but were thrilled that she could. She got to our hotel about 6:30 am having driven all night with two of her friends. After less than an hour, we all piled into the Subaru and began our trek through the complicated and congested DC highways and byways. After our drive Friday along the tollway through Ohio and Pennsylvania, where we encountered many many many others also going to DC and the March - I wasn't surprised by the traffic or the packed-to-the-gills Metro on Saturday morning. What did surprise me, however, was that once we got to within a mile of the March, there were more people than I had ever seen in one place. Okay so the last picture wasn't taken at the March - but it se

It seems appropriate, in a strange-only in my head-sort of way, and keeping with my theme recently of rolling, that the song playing in my head lately is  "Roll out the barrel . . ." As I've been rolling lately instead of walking, I seem to have added to my girth and it has landed, like a big ole roll around my mid-section. It's happened gradually over the last year and I attempted to: 1)   Deny and/or; 2)   Cover and/or; 3)   Exercise and/or; 4)   Change my diet. Well, the "And/Or Plan" wasn't working because my waist kept expanding and with that expansion my motivation (which is minimal on a good day!) was dwindling. So, with a roll around my midsection and "Roll out the barrel" playing in my head, I rolled into Weight Watchers three weeks ago. I had weighed myself at home and the number on that scale was sad - but I guess I should have had my glasses on when looking because the scale at WW showed me a number th

In April of 2010, I witnessed firsthand the pain and sorrow that comes with losing your voice. John had been in treatment for throat cancer for about a month and the radiation treatment burned his mouth and throat gradually making it more and more painful to talk. As we'd been married for 22 years, we could could communicate most things by gestures and looks (all you long-married couples know what I'm talking about!). But on Easter Sunday, when the congregation stood and began to sing     , John was silent. I sang the first verse along with the congregation, but the knowledge of why John was not singing, that he was silenced, hit me like a tsunami and I began to struggle to hold back the tears on what was supposed to be a joyful Christian celebration. Cancer had rendered by husband's voice mute. Since November, I too have been struggling to find my voice. My written voice. The sometimes funny, sometimes insightful, almost-always positive voice that I've used in thi