The Glass is Half-Full

It's no secret that I didn't go easily into the wheelchair - I went kicking and screaming, metaphorically at least. So when a Facebook memory came up from 4 years ago, of the day I got Hot Wheels, it was an opportunity to reflect back over those years and how this chair has changed my life and perspective. While I still wish I didn't have secondary progressive MS that necessitated my need for a wheelchair, that I have it is a fact of life that wishing cannot change. I have prayed too, but the answer to those prayers seem to be that I'm supposed to be where I am and to be a wheeled disciple for God's grace. (If you knew me when I was in my teens and 20s you'd know that I was hell on wheels before I had wheels and led anything but  a grace-filled life). Prior to acquiescing to the wheeled life, I used to hobble along using a cane or walker and falling frequently. It was after one of those falls that I sat on the floor amid spilled groceries in tears pleading to Go

It's a tad chilly here today with enough of a breeze to remind you that winter's coming soon. So I knew that I'd need to dress in extra layers for a walk with my friend Kris. (Well, she walks and I ride along in my scooter but you already knew that, faithful reader.) I went to put on my vest, and spend nearly ten minutes trying to get it zipped up - my glasses needed the lenses cleaned and the lighting was bad and the zipper is small and my dexterity isn't what it used to be- which had me scrambling to get out the door in a timely manner for the appointed 3:00 excursion. And then, I couldn't find the gloves I needed to wear. I wanted the blue ones to match my hat and scarf. Because if you're in a scooter on a blustery day you will attract attention and need to look good, right? And then the cars were blocking the way for the scooter to get out of the garage. So I had to go back into the house to find the key, then move the car. When I got on the scooter, I notic

  It's been a long couple of months, this week so far. Know what I mean? Election day in the time of pandemic. Election day in the time of a fractured country. Election day in the time of a president who openly courts only half of the country and claims "you're either with me or against me." According to Walter Issacson , the historian, “What we have lost is the sense that we are one nation, all in this together. Donald Trump is the first president in our history who has sought to divide us rather than unite us. We will heal once he leaves, but the scar will endure.”  Election day when the arbiter of this election may once again be the Supreme Court if the Electoral College doesn't give the result the president wants. I was struck this weekend by the essays in the New York Time, under the umbrella of "What We've Lost", in particular the one by Maureen Dowd, 'Sharknado Goes to Washington". She wrote "T he most bizarre fact that sticks in

  You, dear reader, kind of know me. My blog title, the glass is half full, gives you a clue into my predisposition. I find the positive in nearly every situation. Or, more accurately, 'found' the positive. I'm struggling. And I know that I'm not alone. There is just so so so so much to struggle with - emotionally, physically, mentally that it's difficult not to get overwhelmed. Know what I mean? I listened to a great sermon last Sunday. I felt uplifted and motivated to be the change - to live like Christ and lean in to the Holy Spirit and to focus on all that is "true, honorable, worthy of respect, right ...brings peace...worthy of praise" (this is a terrible paraphrase of Philippians 4:8 but you get the picture, and I'm sure God won't mind if it's not perfect when I'm trying to concisely communicate the point). John and I were in great moods as we had those words on our minds and we saw a sign that read "Sprinkle goodness like confet

The world is upside down and back ass-ward. Know what I mean? I was chatting with a cousin the other day and her potential exposure to the corona virus. I wrote, "I'll say prayers for negative results for all. Don't like negativity but these days negative is a positive." Back ass-ward. Remember when we first went in to shut-down mode in mid-March? We were told that it was to flatten the curve of hospital admissions so that our ICU's didn't run out of capacity and to ease the virus' spread. It felt then like we were in this together, all of us were going to help beat this virus and stay home. (Aside from the run on toilet paper!) We were committed, or so it seemed, and our closets were going to be cleaned, our junk drawers were going to be a thing of the past, our garages/basements/and other yucky places were going to gleam. We were going to read "War and Peace" or "Hamilton" or other weighty tomes that we'd always wanted to read. We

I have the great privilege of working for WW (y'all know it as Weight Watchers). It's a program that worked for me and for the past three years I've been fortunate to be alongside others on their journeys to weight loss or healthier living.  It is an amazing experience, with each and every workshop, to share in the challenges and successes of so many people. I've been brought to tears, felt incredible joy, experienced awe and hugged a gazillion WW members in support. Because it's not just about losing a couple pounds or sitting around sharing recipes - these workshops dive into some mighty personal, long-standing crap that has kept us from feeling worthy/attractive/successful/healthy/capable/sexy/confident and likely a bunch of other emotions. It's real and it matters. So this company, that has been around for 57 years and started in the living room of Jean Neiditch was gobsmacked with by coronavirus (like the rest of the country) largely because the succe

When I first met this man, in 1982 at PT O'Malley's in East Lansing after a miserable loss to Ohio State, I had no idea it was THE pivotal moment of my life and the start of a lifetime journey. If I had known, I would probably have dressed better and had someone take a picture of us dancing in front of the jukebox (before I chose to dip without telling him and we both landed on the floor!). I started to get the idea, however, that he was my life-partner later that night when he asked if he could drive me home and I said yes. Prior to my agreement, I probably should have ascertained where he parked - because we had to walk from the pub on Grand River Avenue to the back-forty, commuter lot on the other side of campus. For those unfamiliar with MSU's campus in the '80s, it was about a gazillion miles!! We never made it, because we were going slow talking, laughing and kissing that once we got about half-way we stopped in to a dorm to call a taxi (this was back before c

I'm not prone to host pity parties. In fact, the last one I had was over five years ago when I transitioned to the wheelchair. It was a good one, if memory serves, and over forty pounds joined me where they lingered, resulting in a long miserable hang-over. But, it being a pandemic and all, I felt like hosting another pity party. I mean it's a fricking, once in a lifetime opportunity, right? Here I am, gimpy and immune compromised and shut-in for three weeks. I have my "co-workers" John, Matthew and Delaney here with me, Facetime and Zoom for human contact. But I miss my friends, family, WW coworkers and members, people at church, my pharmacist, Bill at the gas station, the owners and staff at a couple restaurants, the florist, the smart-ass cashier at Aldi, the wonderful people at the vet's office, all the healthcare workers I'd be seeing at the oncologist's/neurologist's/optometrist's/dentist's/family doc's offices and all the

Remember when 9/11 was just a date or a number you called in an emergency? Our lives changed dramatically post 9/11. For weeks after that September day, we seemed to walk around in a fog, like the haze that loomed over the now-fallen twin towers. I remember trying to minimize my obsession with the news, trying to keep the three little Piggins away from the enormity of the disaster. Remember when corona was simply a beer best served with a lime wedge? It now and forever will be instead associated with this virus that has upended our world in ways we could never have imagined. This tiny little, microscopic virus has brought the mighty to their knees. It has us quarantined and distancing socially (though I believe we've been doing this emotionally for years) and working from home. As anxiety peaks, our economy tanks. As toilet paper and hand sanitizer flies off the shelves, we are looking for new ways to stock our pantries. A good friend observed, "I never thought I'd

It's been an interesting couple weeks. I've had a terrible cold. No, that seems a bit of an understatement. I've been hacking up a lung, struggling to breathe out of my one working nostril, barely able at times to keep my eyes open. I'm too tired and generally feeling like I've got a wee bit of the plague. And to add to my dragging ass lethargy and hacking, my wrist and arm hurt because of the broken elbow. And I really don't want to be stuck at home. I want to be driving my new red MINI.  Like I said, it's been an interesting couple weeks. Even for me. So, as Marie would sing, "Let's start at da bery beginning." Two weeks ago, I woke excited because I was going to test drive a couple potential new MINIs after my morning WW Workshop. I had been shopping online through  CarGurus and had narrowed my search to two gently used, new-to-me MINI Coopers in Grand Rapids. So maybe in the excitement, I wasn't paying as much atte