A Time to Remember, a Time to Reflect

Tomorrow is the day we all said we would never forget. Tomorrow is the anniversary of a day that made time stand still. And after the unthinkable happened, this country came together to mourn the lives that were lost, to console the survivors, to remember that we are all Americans. As horrible as the events of 9/11 were, the compassion and brotherhood/sisterhood that resulted was a beautiful thing. Since that day, we somehow lost it. We did forget. We went back to being greedy and focusing on material things. We allowed things like race, religion and political choices to divide us. We let ourselves ruin friendships over differences in thinking. And if you think those outsiders who attacked us aren't gloating about that, you need to think again. Tomorrow when you heed the moments of silence, think about how you will go forward when you reopen your eyes and when you speak. Look at our planet and vow to treasure it. Speak to others with respect and try listening to their thoughts and ideas even if they don't align with your own. Figure out what small action you can take that will have a positive impact on some place or someone. Remember that life is a gift and everything you have been given is a blessing to be appreciated.

The Age of the Phone Call

I am old enough to identify with The Age of Aquarius (yep, hearing The Fifth Dimension now). Technically, I am a Baby Boomer. And now I have slid into the parameters of another group which I have self named The Age of the Phone Call.

Recently, I got a text from a college friend. It simply said, "We need to chat asap". The "asap" signified it was important, but the fact it was a text and not a call let me know it wasn't "one of those calls".

Sure enough, it was a cancer diagnosis for a mutual friend. The positive side, they think it was caught early enough for a hopeful prognosis. But once again, it reminded us of our mortality. The call ended with the usual promises of keeping in touch and making time to see each other. My final words were, "Love ya, Rog". His final words were "Love ya, Cyn".

The next morning, my phone flashed an incoming call from Roger's daughter. I was in the middle of breakfast, so decided to let it go to voice mail. I would call her back after my caffeine fix. But within 15 minutes, she was calling again. My heart sank.

I remember the words "massive heart attack" and "he's gone". I was in shock and she was still in shock. Nothing was making sense. I had spoken to him less than 12 hours prior, this simply could not be.

But it was and three weeks later, I still struggle to comprehend it. I still cry when I think of that final phone call, never imagining it would be my last with him.

I know this won't be the last time I will get one of these phone calls, and I know there is no way to ever be prepared for one. I have reached that age. The only thing I can do is remind myself every morning of my blessings, including those who are dear to me. And then maybe give them a call, just to say "I love you".

Wait For It.....

I come across video posts on FaceBook that people share. They often are about cute things that babies or animals do, or sometimes about someone doing something super stupid. Once in a while, it is about someone doing something super special - it makes you go "awwww" at the end. Typically the video sets you up for a period of time before the big finale that you are supposed to see.

Because we all seem to be in such a hurry these days, the poster will often instruct you to "wait for it". Basically they are saying "don't click to the next post because this one isn't holding your attention for more than the first five seconds". By waiting for it, you are assured to have a good laugh, a good cry or to break into a good smile at least. You then say to yourself, "Ok, that was worth waiting for".

I kind of feel like this explains my life at the moment. I am waiting for it. I know the payoff in the end will be worth, but in the meantime I am pondering. I am confident I have talents and skills that I can use in ways to make positive impacts. But I am still looking over the map, trying to determine my destined navigation route. I am looking for the sign that says "this way" or "take the fork to the left".

I know I will figure it out. It will be an aha moment. It will bring a smile to my face and energy to my soul.

Wait for it. It is going to be worth it.

Rainy Days and Mondays

Just to be clear - rain never really bothered me. In fact, a good rainy day is welcome once in a while. It gets me focused on house cleaning and it is nature's blessing to keep all things alive.

Now Mondays, that is a different story. For years I have struggled with Mondays. First day of the work week. The dread of knowing I had five days in a row of reporting at a certain time and being figuratively "chained to a desk" for eight or more hours. But Mondays now are the equivalent to a Saturday, which once held the crown of "favorite day of the week".

My retirement was official at 12:01am, but I started the prep work on Saturday. It was my first day back to the YMCA. They are probably sad that after collecting my monthly dues for the past several years, I am now actually showing up and taking up space. On Sunday, I tried my first yoga class. I survived it. I will admit after the first 15 minutes, I was planning my escape route convinced I would not make the additional hour of class I had left. But I committed to at least trying. After several attempts of holding a pose on one foot with my eyes closed (yeah, go ahead and laugh), holding one leg in the air while bent over with a straight back, and keeping my arms in the air for what seemed like a lifetime, I was toast.

And then, we moved to the floor. Though tempted to remain in child's pose for the rest of the class, I kept up with the full series of stretching, breathing and meditating on how my body was feeling. I was shocked when I realized time was up and I immediately checked the schedule to see when I could do it again.

Retirement is the big payoff after years of diligent working. But it is also the entry into "no more excuses" land. The time is now to focus on being healthy, spending quality time with family and enjoying those blessings I have thanked God for every morning as I drove the interstate to work. The time is now - Mondays included.

Clocks and Calendars

A friend recently invited me to attend an event in July. I politely declined. It wasn't that I didn't want to go and it wasn't that I wouldn't enjoy my time with my friend. I explained my decline was in anticipation of "untethering from clocks and calendars" - aka retirement.

For the past 42 years, Mondays through Fridays meant a commitment to being somewhere at a specific time. For 50 weeks out of the year, this typically meant reporting to work and spending eight to ten hours at my assigned work area. That daily tethering impacted way too many aspects of my life, including how often I could go to the bathroom. To this day, I have regrets about the things I missed like school programs, lunches that might have run longer than an hour, time to exercise and the freedom to just take off when I felt like I needed a break.

As I move closer to the reality of retirement, I find myself both giddy with delight and nervous as a cat. It is going to be a major adjustment, for sure. But I am certainly ready to face the uncertainty - I just need to get it on my calendar and set an alarm so I don't miss it.

It's Been Six Years Since My Last Confession

My Catholic school buddies will get that title. Actually, it has been six years since my last blog post, though my posts have often been confessions of a sort. Six years - where did that time go?

• Working - though I am closing in on retirement.
• Buying a house - by myself for the first time in my life.
• Getting married - cool, that means no more heartbreak posts.
• Getting older - which also means getting more nostalgic.
• Learning to let go.
• Focusing on my blessings.
• Realizing we won't live forever.
• Rearranging the bucket list.
• Craving getting back to writing again.

So here I am and hopefully here you are with me.