grateful for the quiet that has us notice the small things...

I woke in the night last night, just like about every night, and journeyed downstairs to lay on the couch and watch Chicago PD reruns.  As I walked down the stairs, my right hand found the railing to hold on to in the dark.  And as I found my way down, my hand ran across a spot I had never felt or noticed before...a "worn" spot in the wood.  A spot that tells of time, experience, familiarity of sorts.

I usually don't reach for the rail or have my hands free because coming downstairs I typically have Marty in my arms.  He's our elder pup, 14 years old at least that we know of (he's a rescue from Cozumel,) with a fused shoulder that allows him to go up stairs but not come down.  I lovingly bundle him in my arms and carry him downstairs nearly every trip.  Not a big deal, like carrying a 25 pound medicine ball in my arms with an abundance of love.

But last night I had already brought him down to go outside and then laid him on one of the soft round clouds that are the puppy beds in front of the fireplace and he gently drifted back to sleep.  I went up to get my phone that had been on my night table to lurk social media while I laid on the couch.  As I came down I felt the worn spot...

I started thinking about the "worn spots" in my life.  The familiar, the comfort, the peace that are my "worn spots" that I know are there from me reaching to, the same spots, over the years in my life.

My gal pals...I've known Kathy since pre-school and we text occasionally but we connect on social media all the time.  I adore her and watching her girls marry and have their own babies on social media has been a joy.  I've known BJ since 5th grade and it is much the same with her.  I went to Hebrew school with her in grade school, drank beer and had crazy times in high school with her.  She is my "do it badass" gal pal.  And Jude, who is always there, always has had my back, shared the great and the horrible, knows ALL the good and bad of me and loves me no matter what.  And the one thing I just realized that I do not share with all of these loves is that they are all breast cancer survivors.  Courageous and amazing women.

My bridesmaids from 25 years ago who I am still close to.  My family members and some of my hubs family that are so good to me.  Many of my students from over the last 20 years and many of my sorority girls that are still so very loved and present and are "worn spots" with the love and comfort they provide.

My hubs, who is my rock and source of joy.  In about 2 weeks we will celebrate our 25th anniversary.   I simply would not be whole without him.  My pups, who never have enough time with us in their lives but every single moment provide love and joy for hubs and I.  As I type Miss Party Pants is snoring under my left arm and Marty is sleeping on his cloud.  The 4 in spirit watch over them with love.

My slippers, my robe, my Sarah Flaherty sweater from Inis Mor (Sarah is the delightful tiny Irish woman who hand-knitted it,) my favorite wool hat I bought in Reykjavik, or my favorite glasses.  My fave yoga tights and top (WONDER WOMAN!) or my fave sweatshirt (ROWING.)  My garden, my patio and deck oasis.  My favorite movies...you know those that you watch and the memories flood back and fill your heart to overflowing and remind you of loves and times that are so beautiful.  The ones that remind you of who you watched them with.

My music...that recording of the Springsteen concert we went to in Dublin, Ireland in May of 2016.  Both the official audio and the Youtube videos of it that I can't watch enough because it was SO FREAKING FUN!  Same with all of the Jimmy Buffett concerts over the years that saw us dressed in tropical attire with parrots on our heads...  any of the music that is that "worn spot" that brings joy at the first note.

The hubs' dinners...I can always count on his food to be amazing (he's had chef training!) and it's a source of comfort always.  We always make time for dinner together.  The smells from our kitchen are rich with love and as I sit and talk to him over a glass of our favorite.  I am grateful that we are able to share these times together to talk and laugh.

The fire in the fireplace on cold nights that brings such peace.  And living here, we've had them in July!  The warmth and visual of flames dancing ...

Sunday mornings...a "worn spot" that I treasure.  We get up and watch CBS Sunday morning and then have a leisurely breakfast.

Cozumel, our island oasis for 25 years at least twice a year.  It holds our love and our friends and people we look to as family.  It doesn't matter what month we choose to go or how long we are there, it is a huge part of our heart as soon as we walk onto the tarmac we smell the sea air and sink into peace and comfort.

I recall a blanket from childhood that I think my brother took when I cleaned out Mom and Dad's house.  A red and black wool thing I wrapped myself in and felt a sense of quiet and comfort when it was needed most.


My parents' house...the one I grew up in.  To this day my heart aches that I agreed so quickly to sell it.  But I didn't know what else to do and they had both just died...6 months apart.  I was overwhelmed.


What are your "worn spots" that you are grateful for...the ones always there to comfort you, love you, bring you peace?  The ones that have created those soft spots in your life, the grooves that are smooth and easy places to find, especially in trying times like these.  The ones you don't even realize are your "worn spots" until you find them with a surprise or unknowingly run your hand across them in your walk down the stairs.   Maybe the ones we take for granted and don't notice.

This time in our lives is forcing us to slow down, hopefully to notice.  To ground ourselves more.  To enrich our lives with more love, kindness, patience and peace.  To reach out and truly appreciate those "worn spots" that remind us of the beautiful things in our lives that our hands touch so often...and maybe need to love and appreciate more.

There are so many more...but in the night as I found that spot at my right hand, I began to think of all of the puzzle pieces that are so much love in my life for so long.  It is easy to forget in our constant rush of life.  The "worn spots" that are always there for us in comfort and joy, peace and laughter.  And many times at our worst moment to hold us close before we fall.

Find your "worn spots" during this time and in the peace of your heart embrace them with your love.  They may not always be there.  Love them all for the beauty, joy and laughter they bring to your life.

As I close my yoga classes with, and as my yoga mentor taught me,
May your thoughts be loving,
May your words be kind,
May you have peace in your heart and actions always.

The light in me honors the light in you ... with love.

Grateful for the words of a long ago friend

It's been a long time since I wrote about gratitude and what I am grateful for.  Life has been busy, lots going on.  It's easy to rush forward like a train to the next stop without taking time to look around and breathe.  And then sometimes you get a trigger to just slow down and ponder good things.

To stroll into this post, I must recognize a friend from high school who was my trigger today.  He is/was then a quiet and kind person.  Peaceful to be around when my high school world was painful and chaotic and I worked hard not to show it.  He was an athlete and I think would be/was considered in the popular crowd.  One of the people who was a truly nice guy and easy to be around.

Fast forward to our last reunion.  I had not seen him in DECADES.  He and I stood at a high table talking and having a cocktail as one classmate shared with us that she was back as part of her healing from addiction and she shared some stories with us.  I was shocked hearing all of this because she seemed so pulled together back then and she is scary smart.  He too began to share some stories from his high school days also that were something no one really knew about, things that had to be very painful to go through back then.  I too shared a bit of what I had felt and went through during those 4 years that no one really realized and how I felt in such pain and so alone.  My kind friend uttered words that stopped me in mid-swig of a beer...he said "we always think we are the only ones, that we are always alone in our pain."

How very true.

So hit the FF button again.  Today on social media I posted a random thread and comments strung out.  He called me out on the paradox of my comments about my favorite boss who long ago went to prison and as I explained my feelings about the person having been very good to me despite being a criminal, he made a comment that hit me as profound for so many of us.  He said, "And it's a great thing to remember that all of us are much more than our worst moment."

How very true my friend, once again.

We all have a worst moment.  We wish for a do-over.  My 8 years of high school and college were a blur of pain and anguish that carried over for decades.  As I told my artist friend Suzy not long ago, I deeply wanted to be a Monet treasure and every day was a Jackson Pollock.  It took a long time to get to peace with much of it.  Much of it is still a canvas being recreated in loving glory.

And I wish those people who never understood... classmates and sorority sisters, co-workers and colleagues, family and friends...they could hear those words and understand "all of us are much more than our worst moment."  That person they knew so long ago is so far gone and this one is the one whose soul is a bright light moving into great things ahead.  Those worst moments have created great ones and I am blessed beyond anything I could hope for.

As I taught my noon yoga class today at the local university, I pondered deeply the words I always say to them during their practice..."breathe in your gratitude and find the things you are grateful for today.  Thank your body for all it let you do today and fill your heart with that gratitude."  I didn't just say them today, I truly felt them.  And I was blessed at the end to have the 3 males in the class tell me as they packed up to leave that they loved class and would never miss Wednesdays unless they had to work.  Gratitude all around.



And as hurried as life has been lately dealing with dead cell phones and computers not working and snow and ice in our neck of the woods.  The grey days of winter and the bone chilling cold...I am warmly reminded of the amazing kind heart and profoundly meaningful words of my pal Tom.  And to him I say what I say closing my yoga classes and what I have heard from another loving yogi "the light and teacher in me honors the light and the teacher in you."  Tom, you have taught me good stuff today dude, you were MY teacher! I am so grateful for you.

Here's to do-overs for our worst moments and the grace to give others the same.  I am blessed with people who have seen past mine and I am so very grateful for them.

new beginnings, new tribe, pure love

The day came...

I never thought it would...

I graduated.  I am a certified yoga instructor.

And a new, reborn soul.

Where I had a gaping hole in my heart from people I thought were friends and I found out were not, situations that were like a blister that throbs, I now have a group that is kind, genuine, worthy of the love and trust I so genuinely give.  They are genuinely kind, authentic tribe members.  They personify friendship.  It's not a Machiavellian relationship or one of convenience.  They have seen the ugly cry, the open wounds.  And they still stand next to me.  And they are happy to have me stand next to them.

I heard words from each of them, many going through their own intense pain, that lifted me up and let me know that good and beautiful people still exist.  Authentic people, not the ones who recite scripts to the point that they don't know themselves anymore.

And so a new journey begins.  New souls in my space.  New career path of sorts.

How did I get so blessed?

To be accepted for yourself and held tight in all of your pain is the most beautiful and comforting thing of all.  I have been held but learned from these amazing souls as well.  Each has shared stories of pain and love that I understood as well.  We had a teacher that on the very first day reminded us that we are truly perfection and class is a space of no judgment...pure love.

Our graduation weekend was *yikes* teaching our own class, and then celebrations of varying kinds. Celebrating each other, laughing, hugging, tears, flowers, intention bracelets, pictures.

And then it was over on that bright sunny Sunday.  We graduated and were off to new horizons.

I hope not over, I miss these people.  Their laughter, their authenticity, the space to be ourselves and accepted as such.

So I guess I need to get my crazy self back over to the studio...

Or maybe we all meet next month at Chilkoot for wine...what do all you amazing new yogis think?

Namaste #yogatribe, here's to us!

For Unexpected Grace

I had a S*** year last year...  It was like a boulder rolling down a hill gathering force and strength to end the year in devastation of loss.  Loss in the death of a woman that was like a sister and it was so fast and so hard it was like a punch in the gut leaving us winded and gasping in pain.  Loss in a relationship that I thought was a valued friendship but instead can only be characterized as "the cover is not the book."  

But in a huge sigh of relief I started the year out on new pathways I had chosen and began working to put into place last fall.  I knew that I would be beginning my certification training for becoming a yoga instructor and then later this year/early next year, as a personal trainer.  This has been on my bucket list for some time and in the fall I made up my mind to start following this path.  I knew it was time to do something I had been wanting to do for the last 5 years.

The first full day of yoga training took place on the day of Sherry's funeral.  It was like working on something new and exciting with a huge hole in my heart.  She was so excited for me to start this and so supportive and it was exhilarating and debilitating at the same time...I missed her so much.  I knew I would not be able to go to Alabama for her memorial service so it was difficult at best.

Yoga is nothing like I thought based on my experience with it in classes.  I went into the practice thinking that I had positions I needed to  "perfect" because, like most people, I was better at some than others.  I knew there was the philosophy and anatomy to be learned.  I had no idea the impact it would have on me processing all of the grief.  The spiritual side that it opened up.

Truly, it is a moving meditation.  You need to let go and get out of your head and let your heart open up to what it truly is and can be.  But with that can be the opening of emotions that you don't expect.  Every class I found that keeping my tears in, swallowing the lump in my throat was a monumental effort.  Sometimes, as grief does, it came out sideways and I felt more like I was riding a broom than being a peaceful and focused yogini.  I drove home with tears.  I sat in the kitchen telling the hubs through sobs that I could not do this anymore.  It didn't feel good on any level.

But I kept going...

And then on our intensive weekend this month we did a meditation on Friday night intended to send healing and love to one another.  As much as I tried to focus on sending, all I could feel and think was that I was, once again, going to swallow it and cry on the way home.  It felt wonderful and horrible at the same time.  I was soaking up so much from others but I felt so guilty and selfish that I was struggling to send it to others.

Holy s*** was I ever going to get through this training?  My heart was like a ball and chain I drug behind me with every step.

The following day as we moved into the next section, our instructor started talking about the night before and asking how people felt.  The first person started to share and I sat with my arms wrapped tightly around my knees with my faced pressed into my legs looking over to watch the others.  With each person sharing, more tears fell until I felt like I would be cried dry by the end of the day.  How did I really have that much fluid in my tear ducts to keep flowing like that?  I felt like one gigantic open wound all over again.

And then the shift...

Our instructor asked if I was OK... I think she knew it was time to open the door...

Don't you love and hate that question all at the same time?  "Miss Sally gal are you OK?"

Well...yes and no.  Yes because I have finally decided to take my finger out of the dike and no because this feels like I will never be the same again.  But I was allowed the grace to tell people so there I went...

I told them all the gigantic effort it was to keep coming to class.  The swallowing the constant lump in my throat.  The fighting back tears at any moment when positions opened the emotions or learning how to teach yoga to trauma patients made me feel like one.   I told them of the profound grief of losing a dear friend of 20 years and the sadness of learning that one who I loved as a friend was nothing more than a fraud and turned on me with such enmity it left me in disbelief.  I told them, this is not what I thought my yoga path would be...

And then it was like a huge weight had been removed.  The grief was floating away like a feather on a breeze.  The disbelief of the friendship that was counterfeit and void of authenticity was in the rear view mirror.   The importance of those people in the room who were good and kind people was a soft place to fall.

My unexpected grace.

I think Sherry had something to do with that enormous wave of love and healing...  It was way overdue.

Shortly after that class I got an email from a fellow student that shared she had been through the same betrayal of a friendship of a co-worker also and she understood what I felt...and that I could count on her being my friend in this crazy mess called life.  Another student had told of her own experience with the same feelings while doing yoga and that she went through much of what I was feeling during a rough time in her own life.  And another reached out to get together for lunch to connect and talk about some of the things she understood I had been feeling.

And just like that, all that I had been struggling with in the depths of losing to death a member of the tribe I love so deeply, and finding that one never was truly a friend, I was presented with a group of people with incredible hearts.  People that I have only known a few months and who circled around me and became my soft place to fall.  They understood what this spiritual path can do for a soul, they get it.  And they stood by me with their kind hearts to offer the grace I needed to let out the pain, to bless it and let it go.  To remind me that I have wonderful people surrounding me with love and kind hearts.  They are real and they are a tribe I had not considered at the start.

But I am so grateful for their support.

And now I can laugh.  I can truly enjoy my yoga.

And if I find tears coming, I'm safe and they get it.  They know my loss to death has been so hard and they do not judge.  These months together transform us all in different ways.

And the first weekend in June we will graduate and damn... those trainings will be over and then what?

So Yoga Tribe, do we have reunions scheduled?

Namaste cool peeps, I am so grateful for you and the beautiful grace you afforded me to grow and let go.  I feel like a new humanoid and I feel like I have new wings.  Here's to a new path!

Grateful for a Dad who was my support and love

Grateful for a Dad who was my support and love

My Dad has been gone a little more than 13 years.  There was no one like him.  He loved me...no matter what.  He supported me...no matter what.  He never didn't like me and I miss his unconditional love, the father and daughter bond we had.

I think of him every single day but today I found out my gal pal Kim lost her Daddy last week.  And I thought of mine with Valentine's day coming this week.

My Dad was quiet and stoic.  An engineer by trade and career, he was very analytical and had a typical engineer's personality.  Her preferred to work with his hobby than to be in a group and was very introverted.  He said to my mother one time that if she did not understand his silence she most certainly would not understand his words.  Summed him up.

But he always let me know he was my ally no matter what.  He let me know, from his heart, that he was proud of me.  And sincerely meant it.

He never criticized my weight or my clothes or my appearance.  Never criticized my choice in dates (he probably should have...) never looked down on my career decisions or my path in life.

Dad was always the one behind the camera taking the pictures...out of the spotlight.  Never sought to be in front of it.  Kind of a metaphor...always behind the scene taking care of making us the center of his world.

He took me out in the country to catch butterflies for my collection.  He took me to learn to shoot trap.  He asked me to help him pick out his tuxedo for my wedding.  He taught me to embroider when I was in bed with a ruptured appendix and told me that Grandma had taught him when he was sick in bed for 3 weeks when he was 12.  He found Grandma's jewelry and gave me pieces of it for my birthday for our legacy.  I look just like her.  He loved that and it pulled on his heart too...I am her twin.

When Alzheimer's pushed him into a nursing home, we would sit for hours out on the patio and he would watch the jet trails in the sky, pointing to each one.  When he still had the ability to speak, he'd ask me where I thought "that one" was going.  When the disease robbed him of his speech, he would simply point excitedly and smile.   And now I watch for him in those jet trails as he visits me.  When we were in Ireland a couple of years ago, I got to shoot trap at a castle and there he was as I began, a jet trail across the sky in front of me.  And as I completed my session, he was there again with another to tell me he was sharing in my thrill.  I was moved to tears and could barely speak.  I had not shot trap in 30 years but hit more than half my birds...even the guide said he was impressed.  Thank you Daddy...

Dad never one time criticized me or belittled me.  He always told me that he supported me and if I found myself in a situation that was the result of a decision that was not the best that he would be there to help pull me out of the hole I found myself in.  And he did...

My Dad in our family was in the same boat as I was...neither one of us had a voice.  It was not a great place to be but we were in it together.  My mother was the one who ran the show.  Poor Dad was told what to do and when to do it and most especially HOW to do it.  One time she threw me out of the house on 4th of July because she didn't like who I was dating at the time and since I had been drinking I could not drive.  My girlfriend came to get me and let me stay there a couple of nights.  When I went back after the holiday weekend to get my car and things and drive back home to Chicago 3+ hours away, I asked Dad why he didn't stand up to her for me, he simply said "I love you so very much but I have to wake up and live with her."  I got it...  I navigated those waters too.  We were together in difficult times always.  And so we remained the two who were bonded in the voiceless prison but accepting of each other with an unconditional love that still survives ...

Each Valentine's Day he would get me a small heart-shaped box filled with various candies from Fannie May.  A couple of suckers, a couple of chocolates, a couple of other candies.  I loved and waited for that heart-shaped box and he never came home without it.  I miss it still.

My Daddy died at Christmas and a few weeks into January I went away to a teaching conference in Texas still with a heavy heart.  I arrived home to my wonderful husband picking me up at the airport and when we got into the house, he was bubbling over with excitement.  He said my Valentine's gift had arrived.  Now my husband is like a kid with presents and I told him that if this was a move to get his early it was not going to work.  He assured me it was not and asked me to get my glasses on to read something.  He opened a black velvet box that held a necklace with a circle on it that read DAD.  The hubs said, "your dad was your first valentine and this is your first Valentine's day without him.  I wanted to make sure you had him still."

And there it was...as I turned it over from the side that read DAD, there was my Daddy's thumbprint on a silver circle hanging on a chain.  For me to wear close to my heart.  My forever valentine with my other forever valentine presenting it to me.  I could not be more blessed.

I love you Daddy and I miss you so much.  So much...Thank you for your unconditional love.  The cardinals still nest in the arbor for you every spring and the jet trails are in the sky reminding me you're with me always.

Happy Valentine's day...I'm in good hands <3

Grateful for sweet Sherry...

There is that moment in the twilight sleep when you first wake in the morning...that split second of peace and bliss.

And if you've experienced loss of someone you love and the grief that accompanies the sudden loss of a person who was a part of your life that you valued so deeply, the moment following that sleepy blissful waking time is the razor sharp reality that it was not a dream.  The pain comes cutting through to open the wound in your heart once again.  It is real.

She is gone.  It was sudden to say the least.  She texted me that she was having emergency surgery.  She said Rob, her husband would text me when she was out.  I could feel the worry in the text and my heart pulled hard wanting to be there to hold her hand and hug her fear away.  I told her in the last text not to worry, all would be good.   I had just talked to her 12 days earlier for 2 hours...that's how we rolled.  Long, meaning-of-life conversations.  I told her that right before Thanksgiving I had started the ball rolling for 2 new career moves and was looking forward to the coming year and new pathways.  She talked about retiring in another year or so, she was tired of the long hours and travel.

We made plans to have the hubs and I go to see she and Rob in the spring...

And in the early morning dawning hours the day after surgery I got a message from Rob that she had moved to Heaven.  Just like that she was gone.  It has been a little more than 48 hours and I still cannot fathom that she is gone.  This does not feel real...

She was a light.  She was peace.  Being around her just filled you with love and laughter.  She was a southern girl with the most delightful drawl and I could listen to her sweet voice all day long.  Sh had a quick laugh and it was contagious when you'd hear it.  She had a smile that would light up the room.  Her eyes twinkled when she smiled and when she talked those eyes themselves smiled.

She had the most pure, generous, authentic loving heart.  A few years back, someone she considered a close friend did something pretty awful to her professionally.  She was so very hurt and yet she said that it would all work out in the end.  It set up her life for some pretty challenging times.  But she said it would all work out.  She never got angry, she did get sad that someone she valued did not value the relationship on the same level she did.  But she looked at it and said it was not meant to be and that maybe the relationship had run its course and she'd be OK with that.

She moved on to another job and then moved up to another, then moved up to another to become a valued executive in a firm in DC.  She was scary smart.  And an incredible business woman.  I admired her tremendously and often would shoot her a text or call her to bounce things off of her.   This little southern beauty with the ready laugh and the enormous loving heart was the total package.

And she was a loving wife, mother and Gigi (grandmother.)  She reconnected with her high school sweetheart later in life and the two of them were the pair that everyone looked at and loved seeing together.  Rob is her split-apart...a HUGE heart, a great laugh, and someone I could talk to all day long because he's so full of love and goodness.  She has two beautiful kids, a son and a daughter that emulate her goodness. A daughter-in-law that I met and instantly fell in love with because she too was love and laughter. And her grands...a grandson and granddaughter that are beautiful and sweet just like their Gigi.

She was my champagne buddy, she loved her bubbles.  She loved her margaritas too!  One birthday I bought her this silly sweater with champagne bottles and glasses embroidered all over it.  She loved it!  When she lived up here close to me, there were fun days spent across the river at a local outdoor spot with a bottle of bubbles sitting outside talking about the ways of the world and the direction of life.  She was just a few years older than I am, the southern member of my tribe that I spent long hours in conversation about deep and meaningful things that we both believed in and connected us deeply.

We never talked about this.  We never discussed this.  Sherry, we never, ever talked about you not being here.  I simply do not know how to process yet that I can't text her and ask her opinion about someone I am dealing with that is not a good person...Sherry I have this situation with this hypocritical jerk...what would you do?

A lifeline, a touchstone, love, peace, balance, heart.   She was an abundance of love.  And I guess God decided He needed her more and we would have to bond to each other in her absence.  We have done this and are trying to take care of each other...I'll see if Rob is ready to talk today or tomorrow.  I have connected with the kids.  And a friend of mine from high school who is much like Sherry in that she is love and laughter...she reached out and said that we need a phone date, she has been through this too.  And a local friend has reached out to me privately in messages to send her love and chat since we've both been busy and have not connected for too long.

Sherry we are so very empty and the hubs and I keep talking that we cannot believe this is true.  It was sudden, it was a freak thing that took you from us.  We sat last night and toasted you and talked about your beauty and love.  We are already making plans to get Rob out here to relax and visit with us.  I promise that we all will stay bonded and take care of each other.

But I am still in disbelief...

And it will never be the same, we miss you HERE so much.

Cheers sweet lady, this earthy world was a significantly better place with you in it and because you were in it.   Please come see me however you choose.  I miss your voice...my heart is in pieces.

I love you,
SalPal

For a friend lost...Fair winds and following seas my friend...

I ponder often the synchronicity of people that come into and float out of my life.  Some from as far back as pre-school that I am still in touch with and feel a love for that is like having a sister.  Some from grade school, some from middle and high school.  Friends from college and my sorority sisters and daughters...  There are some that are rooted deep in my heart for so many reasons.  Some that are lovely and treasured acquaintances.  Some family I am still in touch with...you know where I am with this.

Twenty years ago about this time of year, I was working on a project with another consultant in an area south of me about an hour and a half.  We shared similar business focus and goals and as we continued to stay connected after the project.  He assisted me in my push to get my coaching certification and grow my new business a bit.  David was a licensed US Coast Guard captain and an accomplished sailor with a beautiful sailboat named The Messenger.  The hubs and I sailed with him a few times and I collaborated on work with David occasionally as I forged ahead in career paths.  He was a valued friend and colleague.

A pivotal moment in my relationship with David was our discussion of alternative mental health therapies.  He mentioned his dear friend Brenda used hypnosis to assist her patients in her therapy practice.  We shared our fascination with the methods that Brenda employed and David suggested that I meet her and get to know how she practiced.  He described her as "She is Santa's wife.  The most stunning blue eyes and beautiful white hair.  And a softness of heart that you will instantly feel like you have known her forever."  He was right.

And the synchronicity continued...Brenda entered my life to be a foundation in my next twenty years...

As most of us find, David and I did not stay in touch as either of us would have liked.  An email now and then, trading voicemails.  A Christmas card on occasion.  David was no less valued but life got so busy.

An then out of the blue I sat with my brother in a small Kosher deli that is a FAVORITE spot for eats and the person diagonal from me at the next table (small tables, tight quarters) reached across and grabbed my hand..."Sally?"

I knew that voice, that smile, that Jimmy Buffet-of-the-70s looking hair.  David!

He introduced me to his girlfriend Karen and we chatted a bit then went back to our lunches.  And for a time we did better at that keeping in touch thing.

And life got busy again.  And last winter we exchanged a few quick messages discussing that the hubs and I really needed to come sailing with him because it had been too long.

He posted on his sailing page on Facebook a contest for everyone to weigh in on when the icebreaker would come through on the river and break up the ice signaling the start of spring.  We had a 2 foot snowstorm on April 14-15 so I chose the 22nd, our wedding anniversary.  I cannot remember what date it came through but when we made it past the mid-April storm it was clear spring was on its way.

And then on April 28, David chose that spring Saturday to spend the night on the boat in Lake Pepin. Nothing unusual and since he was an experienced sailor, nothing anyone would question.  A friend of his snapped a picture from shore of David on deck at sunset (hope it is OK that I use it.)

And then...

The hubs and I were making dinner with the local news on in the background and the reporter was telling of an accomplished sailor lost in Lake Pepin.... "Isn't David's spot in Lake Pepin?" the hubs asked.  "... the search continues for David Sheridan..." the reporter stated.  My heart dropped into my stomach.  How is this possible?  He was the safest person on a vessel I have ever known.  I had no words, this simply has to be a mistake...

But it was not.

Through the summer I watched his Facebook page for news.  Friends in Pepin and neighbors continued to offer prayers and wait.

Then it was on the news recently that remains had been found and identified as David.  That news no one wants to hear.  But at least there is closure and he would be home.  My heart hurt for his family, for Karen.  My own heart was heavy.

We lost touch but you were always on the fringes of my mind.  You helped me start my business and introduced me to the woman who would pull me through some terrible times and that I am now standing with in her twilight years as "appointed family."

And on this coming Saturday, 5 months to the day that your boat was found empty and it was determined that you were missing, people will gather to honor you and share stories and remember your spirit and love.  I can't be there but this is my love to you David and I honor your part in my life and bless all you brought into it.  My path would have been significantly different had you not been my dear friend.

So as you are honored and loved by all, I say...

Fair seas and following winds my friend.  Rest easy, we have the watch.


Love,
Sally

For a New Decade! Here we go...

I'm about to turn 60.  It has kind of freaked me out.

Three of my four grandparents did not live past 57.

And then there is the fact that I look in the mirror and that girl looking back is really only 27.  WTF happened?  This cannot be real...

My former officemate told me that it would be a time of reflection, he was right.  And I am also committed to refocus with this reflection into the past and illumination toward the future.

I am blessed with work I love...a little retail gig that is my source of great joy with gal pals who have held me up in some of the toughest times lately.  And clients in my consulting business that are great people I am proud to be working for.

Gal pals...I have needed them all my life but more as I have moved away from my home and as I have gotten older and dealt with things life hands you as you travel the path of moving decade to decade.  I am blessed with my BFFs from home, my small but intimate tribe that is the core of my soul.  And as lonely as I have been living here, the last few years have blessed me with gal pals in this place that have also been my heart light.  They have been there when I felt like my heart would shatter into a million pieces.  They are some of the kindest souls I know and they are my special blessing in the space I live in.  They are my soft place to fall when I need one, here in this place...

My rowing partner is also my ski partner and has been my rock in some tough times...I continue to feel blessed to have her as a resource to lean on.

I have fur kids, four in spirt and two sleeping next to me, that give me the greatest joy and are pure, unconditional love.  Each one has chosen us and we are so blessed to be able to take care of them.  My heart would have a huge hole in it if they were not here.

I have family that I love.  I miss the ones gone, but talk to them all the time and I know they are watching over me.

I have a home.  Structurally it is a house but it truly is a home.  Most times dog hair is a condiment, it is not going to be featured in Town and Country magazine.  But there is a LOT of laughter and a HUGE supply of love for those who enter and stay for any amount of time.  I never have a day when I don't love living in this home or don't look around and feel love.

I have meandered my way through some things in the last few years that have caught me off guard and felt like a rip tide pulling me down into places that dredged up pain in dealing with family shit from a long time ago.  Sad, confused, angry days that seemed to come from nowhere and feel like a punch to the gut.  And though it took hard work and insight, reflection, I'm in the passing lane now and seeing it all move to the side as I drive by.

I have been blessed that I have finally been strong enough that I have made changes in things that were not good for me and strategically moved those things to the curb.  A few years back I would have continued to let them bleed me and say nothing.  They are now a hitchhiker I glance at and let them find a ride elsewhere.  No room for the negative  moving forward...

I have friends that I look at and know the gift each brings and I hope that I give them the love they give me.  Each has their special role and I am blessed to have them all in my life.  I think of my friend, he's retired and living in western Florida...he has such incredible insight and wisdom and his words have had such impact at times recently that I felt that riptide.  Those words help me in my refocus moving into 60 and beyond...

And I am beyond blessed with a husband that is the spouse every woman wishes they had.  He is kind beyond words, he is funny, he is generous, he is my everything. He is my rock and my soft place to fall.  He is my conscience when I need it, he is my foundation and my reality when I need a dose of that too.  I thank God every moment it comes to mind that I have this man in my life.  I simply do not know how I got this lucky that I have this incredibly amazing and wonderful guy as my other half.  There are not enough, would never be enough words to say how wonderful he is.

So here we go 60...I will start days thinking of my Reiki tenants...meant to be a daily observance so we stay present...
*Just for today, I will not worry...
*Just for today, I will not anger...
*Just for today, I will be grateful...
*Just for today, I will do honest work...
*Just for today, I will be kind to every living being...

Refocus and head into this new decade with difference and purpose.  Renewal.

I am blessed...And I am beyond grateful.

Grateful for an amazing lady...happy 99th birthday Aunt Dot

Today would have been my Aunt Dot's (Dorothy) 99th birthday on earth.  Since I think in Heaven you get to choose any age you want to be, I'll toast her here with 99.  She was an amazing lady and a rock in my life.

She was, if I remember right, 15 years older than my mom, number 3 in the line of 4 kids.  I remember...

...she crocheted afghans for people in nursing homes and I have about half a dozen she did for me and my parents.

...she lived all of her life in the same house she was born in.

...she never married, grandma told suitors not to bother with her because her girls/daughters would never leave her alone (my mother obviously left and married...)
BUT I found out years into adulthood that she had a boyfriend she'd had for decades...a married man who lived about an hour away.  No one but her closest friend knew all of the details of that relationship.

...she loved to garden and kept the most beautiful garden that my grandmother had started.  Springtime we'd share information on what we were planting and where.  We loved the same plants and flowers and she kept my grandmother's iris garden going until she died and my mother sold her house.

...we made homemade caramels together in the fall and she made applesauce from scratch along with jellies, jams, pickled all-sorts-of-things, best custard pie in the world and many other things to numerous to list here but...
She was a GREAT cook and made Christmas cookies to DIE for!

...she was "old school" and got her hair done every Saturday morning, standing appointment.  She did her nails every Sunday night.

...she traveled the world, so many places.  Some with my family, some with other female gal pals.

...she worked for the same state agency for over 55 years...I have the clock from her 55th anniversary award ceremony on my desk.  I know she worked beyond that, I can't remember how long.

...she loved Christmas and when I lived near home we'd help her decorate.  She delighted in hosting Christmas Eve dinner and opening gifts at her house and then going to church and spending the night with us to have Christmas morning breakfast.

...at Thanksgiving we'd give her the turkey carcass to clean off for leftover turkey to be eaten.  You have never seen bones picked so clean as when Aunt Dot got hold of that bird!  To this day, the hubs will tell me to "do an Aunt Dot on that piece of meat" when he wants it stripped.

...she was the woman I told things to, poured my heart to and I knew she would never judge me.  My rock.

...she was the one who bought me the pretty, girly things and painted my nails and braided my hair.  My mother was not a girly girl and didn't care about lace and jewelry and frilly undergarments.  Aunt Dot took care of those things.

...when she grew older and struggled with health issues, she never let anything weigh her down.  Her arthritis was crippling at times but she still made the afghans and still rode her exercise bike every single day.

...sitting in her kitchen with the smells of baking or on the back porch listening to the birds could send your heart to the moon.

...she was one classy dresser...always dressed up and didn't own jeans until she was in her 70s.

...in her 70s she went to the car dealership and bought herself a snazzy new Monte Carlo to drive.  I teased her about being a racy old broad...she loved it.

...she was so proud of me <3  And she let me know it.

...a few months before she died, we took our 2 pups to see her and spend some time one afternoon.  I asked her how she felt.  She said that if God took her tomorrow she'd be just fine because she had had such a great life.  NOT...gee I wish I had married or had kids or had more money or...  She knew she was blessed and said so.

...she had an easy laugh and it was a heartfelt one...when she laughed you knew her soul was happy.

...she cried easily...her heart would feel deeply and she would cry at movies, books she was reading, something she saw that pulled her heart.  She had the biggest and kindest heart.

...there were times I think she quite simply saved me from myself <3

Happy Heavenly (and earthly) 99th birthday Aunt Dot.  I know you're here, I know you still watch over me with love.  I miss you so much, you were an amazing blessing in my life and so many others.  Next year is the big one--100--we'll really celebrate then.  Until then,

I love you!

this place...

I sit at 36.000 feet post lunch and two bloodies :)  On our way to paradise.  Where we rest, where we laugh, where we reconnect, refresh and rehabilitate...

We have been going to Cozumel at least twice a year for 23 years.  Mostly in January and March because as a professor of sorts at two universities I could really only vacation at J-term and spring break.  Well, I could go in summer but summers are so lovely where we live that escape to an island was better set in bitter winters.

We started in a small, one-room cabin on the beach in 1995 for our honeymoon.  Small fridge, no TV or phone, porch with a hammock and friends nearby and a beach immediately off the porch that was the perfect setting for sunset and short steps into the water.  At sunset all of the cabin folks, there were 9 cabins, would gather in a group on the beach and watch as the sun slipped beneath the water and we would all shout in salute "ADIOS MEESTER SUN!"  To this day two of those couples are still dear friends and a big part of our lives though we only see them maybe once a year.

When hurricane Wilma wiped out our little cabana in 2005, we floated to friends' house a couple of trips and then found a place where the cabana pals stayed that was a studio apartment half a block from the water for sunset and 4 blocks from walking to the square for evening meals and bebidas.  It was once again a little piece of heaven and we were soon to discover and fall in love with new family members who owned establishments nearby...Patti, Angie and husband Matt, Willy, Monse and Rasta Mama Patricia and Papi William.  Soon we would adopt Gisela and partner Melita as our familia as well.  And the list goes well beyond this... too many loves to name on one page.

This place...  This place of our loves and rest and peace.  This place of laughter and our familia letting us ride on their float for Carnaval.  This beautiful place of our pal who owns a beach club where we sit and snooze and snorkel and read our books and drink beer and catch up.  This place where the last 3 of our beloved puppies have come from.  This place of our friend Martin's "Mexican limonade" and Rasta Mama's chicken nachos.  This place of quiet in the heart.  Of our time where we feel sun on our faces to warm our souls, Sunday family nights in the square dancing to our friend  Eva who sings in the salsa band and where the beloved local people ask you to dance with them in celebration of another beautiful day...

This place of boat trips with Jenny and Greg and pals to a place named Cielo...Heaven in Spanish...where as we ride the waves in the boat out to float in the turquoise waters, a ray flies out of the water next to the boat beside us.  Dolphins leap in the waters off shore late afternoon, sometimes telling of weather changes to come.

This place of fish on our plate, simmered in garlic...he was swimming this morning.  And he is delicious for dinner.  Of our friend Miguel who we met 23 years ago and has graciously invited us to his home to celebrate his son's birthday.  Of breakfast at Addy's and buying talavera to take home that her husband sits there and paints by hand.

This paradise where we fed the birds at Cabana Ocho so many, many trips before Wilma took it away from us.  Where we drive to the wild side of the island...no one lives there, no electricity, just beach bars and surf.  We stay for a bit until the wind is enough and we want the calmer waters and a cold cerveza.  Where our amiga Margarita always has our little VW convertible waiting for us to take for the trip...

Where the hubs walks to the little bodega, turned grocery, now turned full-blown convenience store to buy my "Mexican eggs" that the hen laid this morning and he walks home with in a little plastic bag to fix my breakfast each morning.

Where in our new digs at the Hacienda San Miguel, we sit on our patio and join other residents to walk to the sea wall with our cocktails or beer and watch Meester Sun fall to sleep for another day.  Where the music drifts onto the patio at night from the restaurant in the next block with our beloved salsa music and the hubs will announce "this is my favorite song..." indicating how happy he is to hear it again and for us to be back.

We have traveled a good many places in the world in our 25 years together, we are blessed indeed.  But coming to this place is our heart, where we have familia, where our fur familia has come from, where we rest when we seem to need it the most.  Where we float in the water, feed the fish as we snorkel and read several books as we find peace.

Here's to this adventure to this place where we find love and our hearts...we are so blessed to have these people, this place, these experiences...heaven...Cielo...

We'll be welcomed home again soon...where we will hear and know...bienvenido a casa mis amigos...Welcome home my friends...

Traditions...first night dinner Casa Denis with Martin, Juan Carlos, Leonardo and Balthazar. Nightcaps at Ohana with Matt and Angie where I'm told I happily can be guest bartender (girl, you know your way around, you can get your own beer!) Where we dance in the square on Sunday once again...There are so many traditions...it's part of the homecoming. Part of the joy, part of the peace, part of the rehabilitation of the heart and soul of hard work and crazy lives.

We are 54 minutes from landing...Jenny is picking us up and though she lives near in the states, we have not seen her since last March, I am excited to see her and have a beer after we dump bags in the apartment. Excited for puesta del sol (sunset) and dinner at Denis. I love our lives at home, but this place...I miss it and yearn for it at this time of year especially. Not much longer...

Here we come MEESTER SUN, to read books in your warmth, to salute you at night, to spend time with friends on the playa...

Coming home of sorts...We are so grateful and so love THIS PLACE...

And as I sit on our patio with coffee and the birds singing this first morning I am grateful for Jenny AND Greg meeting us at the airport to take us to the hacienda complete with cold welcoming cervezas...joining us for first margaritas next to the water watching sunset at our amiga Patita's place, a spectacular sunset with friends and a sigh ... taking in the warmth, the love, the laughter, the arms around us to come back to.  For our friends at Casa Denis at dinner last night...we find out Martin is an abuelo now (grandpa...) and coming into the apartment to find a beautiful floral arrangement, wine, and snacks welcoming us back home.

I am so grateful for this place...and all of the people here and connected to here...too many come to mind, I hope they know they are loved when they read this because I will not remember all of the ones to mention.

Thank you God for our blessings that include this place and its people <3

For blessed connections

We seldom take time in our hurried days to reflect on the connections of people in our lives and how they take us to places in our life that we are blessed with.  Last night we were at a wedding of a beloved daughter that nudged me to think and reflect how I got to be a part of the lives of so many amazing young women who have called me their "college mom" and been my family of the heart.  As we said goodbye for the evening, one of my daughters hugged me...one of those hugs that fill your soul.  And she would not let go as she whispered in my ear "thank you for always being here for me."    How could I not be :)  I love you so much!

How did I get to this state of having so many beautiful young women bless my life?  I thought about that this morning...

As a freshman in college, I struggled profoundly, silently on so many levels for so many reasons.  I was blessed enough to meet some young women in my dorm that I immediately felt at ease with, loved by, and a part of.  Nancy and Barb, Pamela and Marcia.  I am still in touch with Nancy and Pamela, have been with Barb (I think I still have her address...) but lost track of Marcia after college.   They were members of an organization of other young women they brought me into and I became a member of at the beginning of my sophomore year.  Nancy and Barb became my "pledge moms" and Pamela and Marcia "adopted moms."

Little did I know the path it would take me down in the years to come...

Being a part of this group, like any large group of people, had its blessings and challenges.  I had moments of such joy and at the same time struggled to find my lane, my place.  It didn't help that I had to deal with daily emotional terrorism distributed by my mother via telephone. This was long before caller ID and answering machines so to avoid it was hard.  I told no one, discussed with no one, the emotional and verbal abuse and pain that was the fabric of my life and shaped so many of my days.  I struggled as a young woman as the subject of this and at the same time being a member of a large group of other young women...  I wish now that they could know the grown woman writing this instead of the young woman that was in pieces then.

As college progressed, I felt less interested in the group and less a part of it, especially after my 4 "moms" graduated and left campus.  It was a wonderful group, I just didn't feel connected.  When I graduated a semester earlier than the rest of my class and left campus, the group, the connections,  were, for the most part, left behind with the other memories.

I got a job, life moved on and I didn't look back.  From time to time I would run across pictures, t-shirts, memorabilia from the group and those days.  I did stay in touch with a few here and there.  I still struggled, abuse from home only got worse and more brutal as I got older.  Being a young woman in pieces sometimes went to being a woman shattered.  To struggle with that kind of abusive treatment is hard to explain to someone who has never dealt with it.  Bruises are easy to see, shattered souls are not.  And life kept rolling along...

I got married late in my 30s to a guy worth the wait and worth dating all of the assholes.  The marriage moved me even further from the area I grew up in and went to college.  Though it was tough at first, it has been a blessing...bringing the daughters <3

The first few months of newlywed life, I found myself writing wedding thank you notes and doing the paperwork to change my address (I kept my name so some of the paperwork was spared.)  On the list to change my address was the college organization I had been a member of so I called the national office and talked to the office manager and explained where I now lived.  She paused for a moment and asked me how far away I was from a particular campus.  I told her I thought about 9 miles.  She said that the chapter at that campus was looking for an advisor and asked if I'd be interested in volunteering.  I told her I'd think about it and fill out the application and send it in.  Thus began the journey of the daughters of the heart...

The hubs and I didn't have children for medical reasons.  I've never felt like one of those women who MUST have birth children or have a baby.  God would give us what He gave us.  We give back a great deal to those who have no voice and support those who need it since we don't have kids.  As I began my journey with the chapter, little did I know how many times I would be a mother in a way I never imagined could happen.

Over the 15 years that I was chapter advisor, literally a few hundred young women passed through our lives.  Many had wonderful mothers of their own, their birth mothers.  The kind I wish I had had.  Leigh who is a gifted writer and teacher, Jane who teaches kindergarten, Theresa, Pam, Marcia, I have met so many of them and am in awe of how amazing they are and the job they have done with such beautiful daughters and how blessed I feel that they share them with me.  They are the maternal examples we all wish we had.  I wish I had room to name them all and recall them all.

I have had serious issues to counsel the daughters through.  Abuse, substance abuse, mental health issues...anorexia, cutting.  I sometimes wonder how I have summoned the substance to help them get back on a path that is more stable, sometimes have had to let them fall and skin their knees because that is what life is about... lessons.  That part is so hard and hurts.  But most of the time they come out stronger and better on the other side. There are more times than I can count that boys broke their hearts and I have done my best to remind them how amazing they are and that they will remain just as amazing after Mr. What's-his-name.

How did I get so blessed...

We have been participants in their weddings, had them bring their babies for us to hold.  I am incredibly humbled each and every time they open their lives up to include us.

How did we get so blessed...

I had a daughter wear my wedding veil last summer when she walked down the aisle.  I simply had no words when I tucked it into her hair as she got ready.  I had the tears of love though.  My heart overflowed.

How...how... am I so very blessed...

So as I had a daughter hold me tight last night I absorbed her wonderful love and was reminded that this all started on a path with 4 young women encouraging me to join a college organization.  As an alum, rejoining the group on a different course.  That broken and sometimes shattered woman of years ago moved forward to hopefully help other young women mend, grow and maybe bypass what can be such a painful struggle.  To know that the person they are in college that suffered like I did does not have to be that woman down the line.  I am not that person from college and as I said, I wish those members of the college group knew me now as I am, not then.  I am an advocate and force for the broken and those who feel they have no voice...because I did not.  No one was there to hold my shattered heart in their hands and tell me everything would be better, I would be better.  I have been committed to doing that for them.

I love them all more than I can possibly express in a composition, more than I can speak.

So all of my Sigma daughters, and to my original 4, I love you so very much.  I am so very grateful to be blessed with your love.  I hope I am until I draw my last breath.  I could not ask for more, I am...

...so very blessed.