Random Thoughts

I don’t think of myself as “old”. But what IS old?   I mean, when does old start?   Does it creep up slowly?   Is it an overnight thing – where you go to bed one night middle aged and wake up the next morning old?   I don’t believe that old is tied to a number, an age.   I have known people who were in their 30s that felt “old”.   I had a beautiful interaction this weekend that made me realize, in the eyes of the world around me, I am indeed “old”, no matter how I feel or look in my own eyes when I look in the mirror.   And while at first that was a bit jarring to me, as I pondered it I thought back to all of the “old” women in my life, and I smiled.   I have become Mrs. Binder. Mr. and Mrs. Binder were our next-door neighbors growing up in Omaha, Nebraska.   I lived in the same house from the time I was born until I left for college, and Mr. and Mrs. Binder were a constant.   When I look back now, I realize that we did...

One of my friends remarked to me today, “You love SO hard!”. That four word sentence encapsulates it – I love so hard .   And when a person LOVES hard, they GRIEVE hard.   They JOY hard.   They HAPPY hard.   And they CRY hard. I am thankful to feel as strongly as I feel.   But understanding that is who I am means having to make SPACE for myself.   Having to carve out time, sometimes physically on the calendar, to allow myself to feel. Today was one of those days. My sister Annette should have turned 59 years old today.   But brain cancer totally ripped her off and stole her from us last December.   Today was our first May 15 th without her.   My sister Sherry and I had planned to be together for this milestone but Covid 19 made that impossible.   So today, each in our own way, we celebrated the sister that we love, that we grieve for.   Today we celebrated ANNETTE DAY. My plan was to fill the day d...

Have you ever thought about how much you strive for perfection? I think we all do it, if not all the time, then at least OFTEN.   At work we want a “perfect review”.   We want (expect??) our love relationships to be “perfect”.   We pluck our eyebrows, cut our hair, all with a goal (probably unspoken and unrealized even subconsciously) of “perfection”. Perfection is what we continually strive for , yet if we are being honest, we all know it is impossible. Your house will never be “perfectly clean” (heaven knows mine won’t anyway).   Your clothes will never fit “perfectly” and match from head to toe (that sock inching its way down your ankle will make sure of that).   Your kids, your relationships, NOTHING will ever be PERFECT . So, why do we all strive for the unachievable?   Is setting ourselves up for inevitable failure only a recipe for frustration, depression, or at the very least, feeling like crap?? Don’t get me wrong.   Th...

I have been thinking a lot this past week on what seems to be an over-emphasis on FIRSTs in our culture. The first steps. The first tooth. The first born. The first time to have sex. The first haircut. The first word. The first car. The first time to roll over. First.   First.   First.   We photograph them.   We brag about them.   Heck, we even make BOOKS about them. And I have wondered why the lack of acknowledging the LASTs… Is it because the LASTs are so scary?   Too frightening to confront? The last time to drive. The last time to speak to your loved ones. The last smile The last time to walk.   To run.   To jump. The last time to shop. The last time to kiss.   To hug.   To make love. The last vacation. The last meal. If we could embrace the LASTs as much as we do the FIRSTs, would that make them more meaningful?   More tender?   Might...

Shhh, my sisters are asleep and snoring.   It’s only me still awake in this little Airbnb cottage by the sea. We are here on a little escape – some sister time.   It’s happy, it’s scary, it’s sad.   Life changes when someone you love is seriously ill.   Priorities change.   Needs change.   But love stays solid.   We had planned on going on a cruise.   Tried to plan it around treatments and doctor appointments.   But my sister Annette is weaker, and we weren’t sure being out in open water was a smart idea.   If she got sick on the boat, we would probably be tossed off in a port and hospitalized who knows where.   So, we scraped the idea of a cruise.   Then we went to a medium, who “spoke to our parents” from “the other side”, and they said (I paraphrase only slightly here): “ TAKE THE DAMN CRUISE, GIRLS! ”.   (The quotes above about “the other side” are by no means meant to belittle the messages we receiv...