Category Archives: About Me

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Joy to the World or Blue Christmas?

My Christmas Letter for 2012…

Christmas time can be a time of contradiction. Even while we celebrate the joys of the season, we often struggle with melancholy memories of days gone by, of family no longer with us, or of worldly troubles. This is not a new struggle, song writers have written many tunes of longing and wishes for family, home, and peace.

Traditions of the Christmas Season help us hold on to better times; times of our childhood before we became aware of the melancholy struggles so many face each year. Grandma’s chocolate chip cookies still are a prerequisite for me.  While grandma was still alive, I spent time learning to reproduce her cookie. After she passed on, I made it my goal to send cookies each Christmas to my grandfather and close family each year.

As a child, I was under the impression that my mother did not like frosted sugar cookies because she so seldom made them.  Actually she loved them; she just did not like to make the mess. As soon as I learned this, I added frosted sugar cookies to the list of must haves in the Christmas parcels. Just last night we, my husband, children and I, frosted the cookies. Rather than admit to having fun, the boys take the attitude of grouchy bears. It is funny how traditions start, even the tradition of acting grumpy while frosting cookies; a tradition started when mom was able to frost with more flare than dad. It is funny how a fake tantrum by dad years ago aimed at helping the kids accept their limitations has now become the tradition, at least for the men at the table.

Homemade jams and jellies were the constant in my childhood home. Even after my mom stopped making them, grandma kept us supplied. Gifts of jelly have saved many a Christmas when the pocket book was limited but the friends were abundant. Jalapeño Bread soon joined the jelly and is now a favorite as well. My son has taken over the making of the jelly and the bread, but soon his sister will need to step in and not long after that, mom will have to return as the Christmas head chef.

Life does not stand still, and Christmas time reflects the changes of time. Years ago we would send four or five boxes of goodies to family each Christmas, but now we only have one box to prepare. In what seems like a blink of an eye, the family has grown small. Death is part of life but so is marriage and children. One day the family will be back to growing rather than shrinking and Christmas packages will again be numerous.

I really look forward to the Christmases where little pajamas are made by grandma in addition to the adult sized ones being made by mom. These are the visions that dance though my head as I prepare for this Christmas. The dreams of the future coupled with memories of the past make Christmas my favorite time of the year.

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I would be remiss in my ramblings if I didn’t also include mention of the joys of Christmas present.  There is such a wonderful quality about the time spent with one’s children, time keeping up the traditions of their youth. Sewing the pajamas and Christmas clothing with your daughter or baking holiday treats with your son are truly blessed moments, but the best tradition is decorating the tree. Each year we gather together to unwrap the ornament collection, reminiscing on when each ornament was received and remarking on our favorites. Over the years the kids have grown older and taller and need no assistance reaching the highest branches. During this same passage of time, my husband and I have grown to resemble Mr. and Mrs. Clause a bit more. This was not my husband’s desire but a reality I don’t mind at all, at least not in December.  So in honor of our growing resemblance to the jolly North Pole couple, we (meaning me) have decided to begin sending Christmas greetings once again.

Our wish to you during this Christmas Season is that you will always find the comfort of the Savior in your lives, and that His presence will help you through the melancholy as well as the joys of life.

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Listen, Learn, and then Act

The compassionate being desires to assist, to ease another’s burden. While a compassionate nature may be natural for many, the compassionate course of action can still seem fraught with uncertainty.

Observation of another’s behavior or need is not enough. The compassionate being must look beyond the symptoms and try to discern the cause of the symptoms. Only when the cause is understood can one truly act in a manner that is both compassionate and helpful.

An example I like to share deals with fibromyalgia. Years ago after an auto accident derailed me from my regular exercise routine, I was determined to get back on track, but unfortunately every time I tried to return to a routine which included exercise I would get sick. All of my symptoms indicated I had the stomach flu. I was nauseated, had chills, and ached all over. Compounding these symptoms was the feeling that I had over-done my efforts, often due to muscle soreness similar to overuse. For nearly ten years I struggled with these symptoms. Diagnosis was a tremendous relief and required a big change. I had to rethink much of what I knew about pain. With fibromyalgia one must move through the pain, taking time off as with exercise injury pain was not the solution. The very treatment I was implementing before diagnosis was, in reality, making my situation worse.

Many of the symptoms we see exhibited by other struggling or suffering through life can be easily observed but also be easily misdiagnosed. If we truly wish to compassionately help others, we must take the time to understand rather than simply observe. Without the investment of time, we may, in our compassionate desire to help, actually hinder the person we wish to help. “It is the thought that counts,” may be true with holiday gift giving, but it is not necessarily true when we try to show compassion. Well-meaning comments, suggestions, and acts can truly make a struggle worse.

When compassion surfaces, take the time to listen and learn; ask in what way you can act. If time is a commodity of which you have little, consider charitable contributions to organizations dedicated to serving people in need. It is better than well-meaning acts of compassion which are misplaced because of misdiagnosis. The last thing you would wish to do in your effort to show compassion is to cause harm because you are interpreting the symptoms incorrectly. When the desire to show your compassion is strong but your time is limited, help those who are dedicated to helping. While nothing can replace the investment in friendship and time, economic contribution is certainly better than shuffling compassion aside.

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Hitting the Wall and Climbing Over It

It was bound to happen.  A spring and summer of taking back my life through many small steps and a few big ones was bound to bring on a full blown fibromyalgia attack.  College reunions, exercise programs, teenagers planning for college, a husband’s ever present military commitment, and of course registering for my first Master’s Degree courses, it’s a lot for three months. Oh yeah, and I found a new dentist after a couple really bad dental experiences (big stress).  So, I was not surprised when the pain began taking over every evening around 6pm.  Fortunately most evenings were spent laughing through The Big Bang Theory marathons.  While laughing didn’t ease the pain, only distracted me, it did relax me enough so I was able to sleep well each night.

Each morning I woke up and continued with my exercise program, making slow progress, but progress none-the-less.  Then the fatigue arrived, coupled with a persistent low-grade migraine.  Multiple naps became my daily salvation and keep me on track.   I was still able to function, just had to pare back some of my daily expectations.  No problem, I was doing well at managing my condition by making small adjustments each day rather than throwing in the towel.

The stress of dental work should never be underestimated, especially if one has had a terrible dental experience in the past, let alone two such experiences.  So as Monday afternoon approached, and my low-grade migraine threatened to escalate, I finally broke down and took one of my last resort pain pills; a preemptive strike, but a wise one.  My new dentist is an angel!  Between her compassionate nature and the pain pill, my migraine behaved, even while my fatigue escalated.  That evening, despite my best efforts, the queasiness arrived in full force.

I was glad I had exercised Monday morning; it afforded me a rest day Tuesday.  The queasiness persisted, so I rested and prayed for a better Wednesday.  Sometimes you have to facilitate the answers to your own prayers, today was that kind of day.

Fibromyalgia when at its worst (for me at least), mimics flu like symptoms: fever-like aches, chills, upset stomach, and oddly a desire to eat constantly only to then feel more ill afterward. These symptoms were the bane of my existence for nearly a decade before I finally understood them.   They represent my wall, the great obstacle standing between me and my goals.  Today I hit that wall, and then I climbed over it.

When common sense said, “Sleep until the queasiness wears off,” I laced on my shoes instead.  It wasn’t a long walk by most people’s standards, just a mile. A mile in the wind, a mile with a sick stomach, a mile with a prickling forehead, but a mile representing my success, my desire to overcome.

Guess what?  It worked. I feel no worse for wear, but slightly better. Plus I know there is always this afternoon for a nap.  In the past couple of years I have learned light exercise reduces the pain associated with fibromyalgia, now I understand that unlike with a real flu, light exercise won’t make me feel worse, but will make the day feel more accomplished.

I am now in uncharted territory, with one wall crossed.  Who knows what tomorrow will bring, maybe new walls, but I can feel my confidence returning.  I feel as if my days of sitting at the base of a tall wall, tears of frustration running down my cheeks, are behind me. If need be I will cry as I climb over, but climb I will.

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College Bound Again

It is official – on Aug 6, after 20 yrs of waiting, I will begin my Master’s Degree! While so much has changed since my graduation and with life throwing some wicked curve balls my way, I am still on the timetable I set all those years ago.  I put the idea of family before self and I am being abundantly blessed for my decision.

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Fun Equals Pain

Today I discovered a new twist on the idea that “fun” equals “pain”.

Today’s fun – a two mile walk with two spurts of running added in because I felt too good to run just once.

While this was a major accomplishment for me, the feelings of joy diminished greatly a few hours later when to my agony, my right foot unceremoniously cramped.

Due to the morning’s joyful running, I am now denied another joy – walking barefoot around my house.  While massage, and later ice, offered relief to my poor foot, only the wearing of shoes provides for limp free walking.

When I was young and much healthier than today, I would have bemoaned such an annoying injury.  Today I have learned to celebrate my “battle wound” with ice cream and a good ole’ sappy movie.

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Vacations

You know you have reached exhaustion when unpacking the souvenirs seems beyond your ability.  It is strange how the excitement of a vacation can push you past the aches and pains of a tired body.  You can walk further than you normally do, sleep briefly and restlessly night after night, and unhealthily for days on end, all with continued stamina.  Then you arrive home, drop your bags, cringe at the piles of mail, dread the laundry and want to sleep all day.

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