The Glass is Half-Full

  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

  Tuesday was cool, the morning especially. And while working at the Book Nook I saw people dressed for two seasons -summer and fall. Lots of plaids, flannel and boots or booties worn by customers that I assumed were anxious for fall. Not me. I'm holding on to summer for dear life. I wore a sleeveless dress, sandals and a cotton sweater. I mean here in Michigan we will be donning those fall duds and not showing skin again for at least eight months. And while I'm not good at a math, I know that eight months is most of the year. According to my calculator that's 66 percent of the year (66.666667 to be exact - my math 094 professor at MSU would be impressed that I knew that if I'd done it myself. But I'm smart enough to use a calculator to come up with that - like I used to tell her every class "we don't need to know how to do that, we can just use a calculator". Pretty sure I wasn't her favorite).  Boy did I digress with that walk down memory lane. A

  I have had two very different experiences shopping in the past week. At two different stores in two different cities. While in Grand Rapids for a dermatologist appointment (nothing major found, just a couple zaps/freezes - which is amazing for this fair-skinned lass who had had more than her fair share of sunburns!), I decided  to check out Horrocks Market. It's a store I visited once or twice in Lansing and they opened this GR location near our home in Kentwood a few years after we had moved. I have always wanted to check it out and last week seemed like a perfect chance. First, the ramps into the store are very steep and making rolling up a feat my abs and arms did not appreciate. The store did not have a motorized cart that I could see, or the little shopping carts with wheels (love the ones at Walgreens). So my now noodle-y arms and my chair wheeled through the store with my shopping bag from Aldi. I enjoyed exploring but not 'shopping' because my bag could only hold

  I understand that there are those who may believe my use of the term 'gimp' is derogatory or demeaning. I do not use it lightly or to belittle anyone, it's just a lot easier for me to than 'disabled' or 'handicapped' because it uses a little snark or humor to something that could use a little of that. Or in this case, I specifically want to make light of my situation so that it doesn't feel depressing. For you or me. Let me try to explain.  One of my pet peeves is the look of sympathy I get from well-meaning people. Like, "Aw, sweetie, I am so sorry that you are less abled, confined to a wheelchair and less able to live the full, active life that I lead."  I am in a wheelchair most of the time and my life is different because of that but in truth I never wanted to run a marathon of play pickleball or climb Mt. Baldhead (I've done the latter too many times usually bringing up the rear of the group I was with and/or being cheered on by the

  I am not sure if its aging, the current state of chaos in the world or something more personal, but I have had a difficult time in the past couple years finding the positive in everything. It used to be my superpower. Hence the title of the blog, the glass is half-full. Instead, I find myself struggling to find that positivity in all things. Its like my superpower has been voided by kryptonite or something sinister. And as its happened I've simply succumbed like a weak-assed ninny, laying down my the shield that protected my positive mindset and opening it up to the onslaught of skepticism and mistrust. The durability of my positive mindset was replaced with an attitude of 'oh what the hell-ism'. My desire to go out in the world and conquer all curmudgeons with my steadfast will to make them smile has been overcome by the that ever-forceful and evil lassitude. While I've not reached that state of my glass being half empty, its more like the glass is half full-ish. You