Category: Friends and Family

My aunt Kathy is one of the most beautiful, gracious women one will ever meet.  She consistently holds parties and dinners for birthdays and holidays and sometimes just because. Is it any wonder that each year when her birthday rolls around I want to do something for her to let her know just how special she really is.

Kathy is the youngest of six children, one of whom was my daddy. She is the last one of her childhood family and no one would ever guess she is 84 years old today. Growing up we all called her “Sue” but as we all matured, she indicated she would prefer to be known as Kathy rather than Sue.  I could relate. (The family called me Cindy – which I always hated. My name is Cynthia and I wanted to be addressed as such.) One of my daddy’s sayings was, “I’m full clear up to Sue’s house” when he ate too much. Obviously, we didn’t live in the same city as she.  Luckily, now I do!

For her birthday each year I try to avoid a patriotic theme. It just doesn’t seem fair to her to have to share her birthday with America every year. I liken it to someone who has a birthday around Christmas. The birthday girl needs to be celebrated for herself!  However, this year, she is sharing her birthday week with America’s 250^th so it’s kind of a big deal. Thus, I decided the theme would be Celebrating Red, White, and Sue.

Planning was so much fun! I started a month early to ensure I could carry off the theme in food for the dinner. At first all I could find were desserts. Summer fruits are fairly easy – watermelon, strawberries, blueberries, cherries – you get the idea. But the other food was a bit of a challenge.

Appetizers included three dips – red pepper salsa, creamy garlic, and blue cheese — with white and blue corn tortilla chips; popcorn with dried cranberries and blueberries and blue and red M&M’s; and watermelon squares topped with feta and a blueberry. Sparkling fruited lemonade rounded out the starters.

For those who eat meat I made oven-fried chicken – white meat of course! Red, white, and blue roasted fingerling potatoes, and white corn with red bell pepper, to which I sneaked in some chopped jalapeño and cream. I made red, white, and blue deviled eggs, a cannellini bean salad, fruit and purple greens salad, coleslaw with dried blueberries, and a blue pasta salad. *

Since Kathy is a wonderful baker, I didn’t even try to create a cake. Whole Foods has the most delicious Chantilly cake with berries, and a local grocery store had a vanilla, strawberry, blueberry neapolitan ice cream.

Everyone wore red, white, and blue and the party was a huge success. We celebrated our precious aunt in style.

Mary Ann and I wish you a safe and joyous celebration of America’s semiquincentennial! Happy Independence Day!

*Most of the recipe inspiration came from FoodNetwork.com. The Summery White Bean Salad was from KyleeCooks.com and the blue pasta was inspired by a Mermaid Pasta recipe at veganeasy.org. If you follow this blog you know that I consider a recipe a suggestion – I rarely follow a recipe exactly. That said, I am appreciative of these cookbook authors and bloggers for graciously sharing their recipes for people like me to gain inspiration.

Mary Ann

It is hard not to fall in love with a puppy! That is exactly what happened when my father brought home a shy brown and white ball of fur with big brown eyes.  The whole family was grieving the loss of our beloved Irish Setter, Abigale, that was hit by a car.  None of us wanted to think about another pet. However, my father was a hunter and would need a working dog for the hunting season in the fall.  It was hard to think that this little puppy would have to earn her keep. To my brother and me, the puppy was going to be our pet. 

So that is how Heidi came into our family.  She was a Llewelyn English Setter having brown spots rather the typical black spots.  Since it was early spring and way too cold for a puppy to be outside, we got to keep Heidi in the house.  That allowed us to quickly bond and to fall completely in love with her. We couldn’t wait until we got home from school to play with Heidi.   

I have shared with you in an earlier blog that my 4H project was Dog Husbandry.  For that project, you had to care for your dog with feeding and grooming. You had to train your dog and show them at the local 4H Dog Show in early June and again at the end of the summer at the County 4-H Dog Show.  

Truly, Heidi was just a baby, but I practiced with her to prep for the club show which was a few months away.  Now, the training was not intense as it could have been since we had school and other childhood activities.  There was always time to play with Heidi, but I was still learning how to train a dog and show it.  We were both babies.  

Well, I turned around and suddenly, it was the beginning of June.  Show Time!!  Saturday morning of the show, I bathed and groomed Heidi so she would look her best.  She was older, but she still looked like a puppy with a fat belly.  We practiced sit, come, stay, heel, and down that were basic obedience skills.  We were shaky on all of them.  My father drove my brother and me along with Heidi to a local park for the “show.”  Our leaders had us all line up and then instructed us on what we were expected to do.  Heidi was like Velcro next to me.  She was not prepared for lots of people and lots of dogs. Dogs that were bigger and more confident than she was. 

 So, there I was with a timid puppy who forgot everything she knew.  When we told to walk our dogs around the ring, Heidi wouldn’t move.  I had to pick her up and carry her.  From there the obedience trial went downhill.  Heidi wouldn’t even come to me when called.  She was terrified from all the show commotion. However, when we were instructed to have our dogs sit, Heidi sat her little tushy right down in a perfect curtsey.  In the end, we got 4^th in Sit.  I was so proud of our little white 4^th place ribbon. I was so proud of Heidi.  Everyone else was getting blue, red, and yellow ribbons.  At least, we placed. However, it was a long quiet ride home.

When we got home, Heidi was exhausted.  She could hardly stay awake.   We were also all tired.  Heidi had done her best, and you can’t ask more of a puppy who was trying to grow up.  I sat with my father who said that we could get Heidi trained for the County 4-H Dog Show in late August.  We basically had three months to make this happen.  My father asked if I was ready to do the hard work necessary to make this happen.  I was and had visions of Blue Ribbons dancing in my head.

For the remainder of the summer, my father and I would go in the backyard after supper and worked with Heidi on commands and how to behave in a show ring.  We didn’t miss a day.  It was repeat, repeat, repeat.  Of course, we gave Heidi little treats for her hard work.  She really was working hard for “good girls” and lots of pets and hugs.  Our little puppy was growing up into a dog as she was approaching her 6^th month birthday in August.  She was almost at her adult size. Her coat was feathering out, and her body slimmed down into a beautiful English Setter.  Daily brushing was making a difference, and she knew what the different commands meant and could flawlessly execute them.  Would all this hard work pay off at the show? 

The day of the show arrived.  I had butterflies flying all over my stomach.  Heidi had gained confidence over the summer, and I did too.  She was just glad to be with the family.  We got to the fairgrounds where the big County 4-H show was underway.  There were all kind of animals being showed all week long.  There were kids from all the county competing. 

We went to the dog show arena and got ready for the competition.  There were three categories – obedience (sit, stay, come, down, and heel); showmanship (how you and your dog showed in the ring); and confirmation (grooming and how each breed compared to its standard). Heidi and I were ready.  We just had to prove we had grown. I am sure people remembered our last performance.  

The judges cued us on each category, and Heidi and I went through our paces.  Heidi was doing so well in each class, and in the end, we won a Blue Ribbon for obedience, showmanship, and confirmation.  All three.  It was a 4-H Trifecta!  Heidi was just happy working with me. I was so proud of her.  It was a far cry from 4^th in Sit.  

As the years passed, my brother and I continued showing our dogs with the 4-H, and there were lots more blue ribbons.   Nothing else ever compared to those first blue ribbons. They were precious.  I still have them.  Heidi was a sweetheart and was so loved by our family.  My father hunted with her, and she gave her whole heart to something she loved to do with him. Heidi is now buried in my heart and will always have a special place there.  

 What I learned from this whole experience is that hard work pays off.  This was the lesson that my father was teaching me.  I think if you were to check out my family, our work ethic is central to who we are.  It is our family ‘s treasure.  We are all hard workers.  As the years passed, you realize what a gift it was to have that trait instilled into our lives.  Heidi was a pretty good teacher too!  Thank you, Sweet Girl! 

Summer has arrived and with it the crawly and flying things come out. I enjoy sitting in the Urban Oasis (my deck!) but I am so sweet the mosquitoes swarm towards me. Thankfully, I have used a wonderful service for several years. They spray every three or four weeks in bug season to reduce the number of mosquitoes who are determined to fill my arms and legs with welts.

While my mother was living with me, I added their pest control service. Quarterly they spray inside and outside to deal with spiders and other bugs. I like their service because they use natural and organic products. It makes me feel a little better about eliminating the bugs.

A few months ago, my granddaughter, who is deathly afraid of spiders, and my grandson and his new wife rented a house together.  My housewarming gift to them was pest control service for one year. My granddaughter-in-law brought two dogs to the household, so pest control seemed a fitting gift.

Yesterday, my grandson called. “The dogs have fleas again!” He mentioned they were bathing the dogs but that he contacted the pest control company to see if they could spray inside and out specifically for fleas. There was to be an extra charge, and the company did not have the capacity in their system to put two payment methods on an account. My grandson asked if he could put the charges on my account. He said they would withdraw cash to reimburse me.

I made a deal with him. If he would come to change lightbulbs for me, I would consider that payment.  At 72 plus, I am trying to be mindful of things I should and should not do. Getting on a high ladder is one of those things.  I shared with him that I would otherwise have to find someone to do it and pay them, so I would prefer to help family. He admonished me. He said any time I needed help; I should call him. He would never expect payment to help me.

He reminded me that I paid for his summer tuition. Not that I had forgotten; but he wanted me to know he had also not forgotten and was very appreciative.  At the time, I told him I would much rather share what I have now so I could enjoy seeing him use the gifts I can give, rather than leaving things for him after I am gone. We seniors think of things like that! Having coffee with my friends this morning, we shared the same sentiment.

So, the rental is being sprayed for fleas today and my yard was sprayed for mosquitoes. Soon we will live in bug-free paradise. And we will appreciate the ability to help one another. After all, that is what family does!

Mary Ann 

Do you have a word or a set of letters or numbers that keeps appearing in your life?  I have. Strangely, I have had SSS show up several times in my life, and it is not the Selective Service System. 

In college, I belonged to a local sorority.  It was Theta Gamma Phi that later went national, and we became Sigma Sigma Sigma – SSS!  The sorority was the center of so many wonderful friendships. A few of those women have remained close as the years passed. 

I never thought much of it until I joined a children writer’s group with three other women writers in South Carolina, and we met the second Sunday of each month.  We called ourselves the Second Sunday Sisters – once again SSS.  These ladies were so creative, and we watched the birthing of many books over the years. We critiqued each other’s work and pushed one another forward being cheerleaders to the group.  We would visit the first hour, share yummy treats, discuss any critiques that were pending, and then off to quiet areas of the house to write.  

One of the ladies wrote a series of children’s books entitled Down Girl and Sit, and she dedicated one of the books to the Second Sunday Sisters.  Boy, that is so special having a book dedicated to us!  We began such close friends while I lived in South Carolina.  I am still in frequent contact with one sister, occasionally with another sister, and one who I  completely lost touch.  They all hold a dear place in my heart. 

Now, we come to the last or my maybe my most current SSS.  It is Silver Sage Sisters, and you are part of that. When we were naming the blog, we originally tried for Silver Sages.  The name was already taken on Go Daddy, so we added sisters and bingo, we had our name, another SSS.  It was not planned, but I guess SSS wanted to reappear again in my life. 

Silver Sage Sisters has become a very important part of my life.  I get to work with my dear, dear friend, Cynthia making the distance between Oklahoma and Pennsylvania much closer.  We have grown so much in our writing and figuring how to do WordPress.  I can remember when it was so hard to add a picture.  I often would schedule blogs immediately by mistake and would have to correct the date so blogs would drop as planned.  We hope to add another dear friend, Lisa, as a guest writer sometime soon as she embarks on her retirement.

The blogs have given me a creative outlet for doing a bit of memoire, a bit of travel writing, some reviews of favorite books and films, articles on favorite products and services, storytelling, and lots of odds and ends like a SSS blog.  It keeps my brains nimble as I create. Cynthia and I appreciate your support and encouragement about the stories we tell.  Your feedback has meant so much as we write.  We have a small but loyal following. Thank you, Readers. Spread the word and tell your friends and relatives all about Silver Sage Sisters.  

Looking ahead, I wonder what the next SSS will be in my life.  The past SSS all revolved around friendships, my friendships with other women.   I hope that will be the case in a future SSS.  If I am still writing blogs, I will let you know.  Whatever it is, it has to be better than the Selective Service System! 

Last week was mind-numbing. Without going into too much detail, I experienced a scary situation which filled me with anxiety. My mind was constantly racing with random thoughts of what to do. I felt violated, frustrated, and distraught.  At first I could not sleep.  While I forced myself to put something healthy into my mouth, I just was not hungry – which is quite unusual for me!  I even had to tell Mary Ann I would be unable to post a blog on Thursday. She, of course, came to the rescue. I spent the week dealing with the issue.

As the fog lifted I agreed to have coffee with a dear friend locally. My daughter invited me to a mother-daughter time at the nail salon – her treat – for Mother’s Day. The weekend would be for self-care.

Friday, a special surprise was in my mailbox.  Mary Ann had sent two books to inspire my writing.  One, *Blank Page to Bookshelf*, was written by her friend Mark McNease. I read the introductory pages of *The Joy of Writing Journal* by Lisa Tener and was – well you may have guessed – inspired! I was reminded that I have always wanted to create my own planner layout. So that project may be on the horizon. Who knows?

Saturday, I got up and started moving early.  I was just about to jump into the shower having eaten some breakfast, downed the morning supplements, and read my Bible chapters for the day, when I received a txt message from my beautiful, sweet granddaughter. She wanted to stop by on her way to work. I waited in my robe for her to arrive. She brought me a lovely nighty from my favorite lingerie store as a Mother’s Day gift. So unexpected!

Then, I met my friend Karen at a new coffee shoppe. It was spacious, light, and had the most delightful Yemini pastries. She selected a pistachio baklava, and I opted for a cinnamon chip muffin to go with our lattes. After we had visited for a couple of hours (yes, hours!) she pulled out a package. She had run across a lovely stained-glass dragonfly whose body was crafted from a silver spoon at the local art festival the previous weekend. It has found its way to a window in my office, allowing the light to shine through its amber wings.

As I was leaving the coffee shoppe I received a call from one of our local UPS stores.  A package I had sent to the wrong address had been returned! Unbelievable! So, I made my way to the store, updated the address, and sent the package on its way, once again. Of course I had to pay the shipping fee again, but for some odd reason, it was less expensive this time. Hmmm.

After working at my desk for a while, I took a call from my aunt and then my grandson called to say he was coming for a short visit. Such a delight! When he left I began readying the house for night and a potential thunderstorm. I was about to close the curtains in my office when I noticed my rose bush had suddenly bloomed! Just when you think people are horrible and life is harder than it should be, others find ways to brighten your days. It’s easy to become sad or lonely or unsure as you navigate your senior years. Yet if you allow yourself to be thrilled and amazed at life’s little pleasures, you will find happiness and maybe even joy!  Just the act of smiling, even when you feel like frowning, can lift your spirits. For the mothers who are reading – happy [belated] Mother’s Day!

Mary Ann

It was love at first sight.  There he was sitting on the top shelf of the toy store display case.  My children were young as we vacationed in Petaluma, CA.  They were busy checking out at all the other toys, and I made a beeline to the gray rabbit puppet.   It was a German Steiff arm puppet with a little brass button tag on its ear. When I put the puppet on my hand, he came alive as all puppets do when you play with them.  It is magical when they become real.  

Then I looked at the price tag – $35 which was a hefty price in the 70s.   After some debate, the bunny was on the way home with me.  He was just too cute to leave behind, and as a teacher, I could use the rabbit with my work with children.  I named him Benjamin Bunny after the Beatrix Potter’s character.  I didn’t realize at the time how much that bunny puppet would mean to my life.

I fell in love with puppets after taking a weekend workshop about making puppets and writing puppet shows.  I ended up giving my own puppetry workshops, The Magic of Puppetry, to children and fellow teachers.  Puppets were a good vehicle to get the creative juices going.  However, it was always a wonder watching children truly believe that puppets were alive.  As the puppeteer, children could see that you were moving the puppet and talking for it, yet it made no difference.  The children believed and that is where the magic is.

Benjamin was always a star at the presentations, but he did not come into his own until I became a principal.  Since I oversaw very young children, I would visit the classes to read books, and Benjamin would join me.  Benjamin was a very shy bunny, so it would take him a minute or two to warm up when he gave a timid wave to the children.  Now, Benjamin ‘s mouth did not move so he would whisper in my ear what he wanted to say.  At the end of my visit, Benjamin would hug each of the children.  Little ones would love that special hug.   Occasionally, a child would not hug him – he or she was also timid.  However, as the year progressed, the child would become braver and finally hug Benjamin.  Over the years, all the children in the school knew Benjamin from his visits to their early childhood classrooms.  Benjamin became a bit of a celebrity.  He had been hugged by hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of children.  So much love!

When I moved to NYC, Benjamin came with me and visited our youngest children for book readings as well. He had a following and was a star in the Big Apple.   Again, those visits ended with hugs from adoring children.  Benjamin was dearly loved for 25 years and has now retired with me.  We did do a ZOOM visit during the Covid Pandemic, and Benjamin showed the children how to wear a face mask, and he “told” them to listen to their parents and teachers so they would be safe. 

In retirement now, Benjamin sits on a shelf in my office.  I look at him every day and he makes my heart smile.  Benjamin Bunny represents my life’s work with children and the happiness of doing that.  I have decided that I will have him cremated with me when the time comes for me to say goodbye.  No one else would ever know who Benjamin was and what he meant to me.  The little bunny epitomizes children’s love, and I want to take that love with me.  

What constitutes a gift? I guess I have never really thought about it.  I love giving people items I think they would enjoy. I enjoy doing things for others. Some would say my gifting is my Love Language. Lately, I have begun to rethink gifting.

My grands, nieces, and nephews, are all adults now in their twenties and thirties and some even older. Most of them have good jobs and are independent. They can purchase the things they want or need.  I find it challenging to select something they will want, appreciate, and use.  Anymore, when I ask them they reply “you don’t need to get me anything.”  While that is very sweet, they fail to understand that it makes me happy to give them something on their birthdays or other special occasions.

My granddaughter will turn 25 this month. I appreciate that she tells me what she would like – much of the time.  This year she told me – “money.”  She has recently moved out of her parents’ home, so money is tighter than before. She is learning that adulting is hard.  My sweet little girl no longer wants pink and frilly things. She wants to build up her savings account, so she won’t worry about having enough to pay her bills.  I appreciate her resolve.

I have resorted to gift cards for non-gift-giving holidays. Target gift cards for St. Patrick’s Day, grocery store gift cards for Easter, gasoline gift cards for Independence Day, etc.  Basically, things that help with day-to-day expenses.

Money just doesn’t seem like a very good gift. I need to rethink my position on gift giving. As I recall, my maternal grandmother always sent me a check for $5 with a greeting card signed Maureen. In fact, it wasn’t until later years that she started signing cards Grandmother Maureen. I loved her dearly and held her in the highest regard, even though it was hard for her to be a grandmother. She was more of a mentor to me. We got along wonderfully (opposed to most of my cousins!). Thinking about the cards and the checks, I suppose I enjoyed getting money from my grandmother. Mostly I appreciated that she thought about me on my birthday.

I sent checks to my nieces for a while, but it seems they would not cash the checks. I found that odd since it is easy to deposit a check with one’s smart phone – I’ve done it for years, so I imagined the younger people have done it longer. Each year I would ask them if they got the check because I noted it had not cleared my account.  Now, they get Amazon e-gift cards. Interestingly, they apparently appreciate those more than cash. (We truly are becoming a cashless society, are we not?).

All-in-all, I suppose giving a gift rests more in intent than in substance. So I will go to the ATM, or write checks, or send e-gift cards. Easy for me; beneficial for the recipients.  After all, it is the thought that counts!

I have been extremely fortunate to enjoy a close-knit family. Special relationships with aunts and uncles and cousins have enhanced the quality of my life. As I age, so do they, until unfortunately, their lives on this earth come to an end. Maybe it is the longevity in my family that makes it all the more difficult. I have come to expect they will be there when I call – that the card I sent will be read.

This month would have marked the 100^th birthday of my Uncle Bob. He served in the Navy during World War II. He was on the SS Yorktown. After the war he owned a flower shop and a department store in a small town in mid-America. Then he and his wife, my mother’s twin sister, moved to the city where my parents lived. When I visited my parents, I would also visit my aunt and uncle.  Upon retirement, my cousin moved from California to North Carolina – and took her parents with her.

My sister and I visited last September and were overjoyed to be able to spend time with them. Uncle Bob was especially thrilled to see us. We laughed and talked and met his new friends in the retirement village where they lived. When we left, Uncle Bob followed us all the way around the building on his scooter, just so he could say goodbye one more time. The reunion was delightful and filled our souls.

On the occasion of his birthday, there was no question that we would attend a celebration of his 100 years. However, he passed away peacefully just two weeks short of that birthday. The party we attended turned out to be a Celebration of Life after a funeral service that rightly honored a remarkable man.

He found joy in so many areas of his life.  Steve Hartman of CBS Sunday Morning even did an expose’ on him and two young boys who learned of his time on the Yorktown. They began corresponding with Mr. Harding and eventually the three of them were able to meet in person. That began a friendship that lasted twelve years. The young people last visited him soon after my sister and I left North Carolina. Another blessing for his long and prosperous life.

No, he was not wealthy – at least not in the way we often define wealth. But his life was rich with experiences and full of love. He loved God, his country, and his family and friends. He smiled easily, laughed heartily, and spread happiness everywhere he went.

At 96, my aunt mourns his passing. Yet she is doing well, knowing he is in “a better place” and no longer struggling as he did the final two months.  She knows when the time comes, she will rejoin her husband of 77 years.

While I am quite sad at the loss of my loved-ones’ lives, I am grateful for the tremendous love I have enjoyed over the years.

I was scheduled to attend the 100^th birthday party of a dear uncle. Planning the road trip for a 19-hour drive was exciting. Riding along would be my sister, cousin, and another aunt who is 94-years old. What a celebration it would be.  But then my aunt – my mother’s 96-year-old twin sister called to say my uncle had passed away. Only a few weeks before turning 100.  I was sad. He was a special man.

The birthday party is now a Celebration of Life. This event, and other things happening in the world caused me to wonder: “Can a person find joy when suffering a loss?” “Is bad necessary for good to have meaning?”

Finding the “silver lining” can often feel like a cliché—especially when you’re in the middle of a storm. However, finding goodness during difficult times isn’t about pretending the bad doesn’t exist; it’s about expanding your perspective to see what else is present.

I pondered how to navigate the darkness without losing sight of the light. Here are some insights that may help when the “bad” things happen, whether loss of a loved one, a war, a fire, or some other occurrence that is somewhat negative.

The first step to finding goodness is facing reality. The internal “this shouldn’t be happening” often creates more suffering than the event itself. Try practicing radical acceptance and stop pouring energy into the “why”. Start focusing on “what now?” Acceptance creates the mental space necessary to notice the small, positive details you might otherwise miss.

Fred Rogers famously advised: “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” When bad things happen, they often trigger a wave of human connection. Look for the friend who checks in, the stranger who offers a hand, or the professional who provides clarity. The goodness is often found in the collective empathy that a crisis ignites.

When the big picture is bleak, shrink your world. You don’t need to find a grand purpose in your pain immediately. Instead, look for micro-joys:

• The warmth of a cup of coffee.
• A moment of quiet in a chaotic day.
• A bird landing outside your window.
• The fact that you handled a difficult hour with grace.

These aren’t distractions; they are evidence that life is still functioning and capable of providing comfort.

Language shapes our reality. When we say, “I’m happy, but this bad thing happened,” we negate the happiness. If you switch to “and,” you allow both truths to exist simultaneously: “I am grieving, (scared, depressed, etc.) and I am grateful for the support I have.” This allows you to honor your pain without letting it erase the goodness that remains.

Bad experiences are often the most fertile ground for personal evolution. Ask yourself:

• What strength am I discovering that I didn’t know I had?
• How is this shifting my priorities for the better?
• What am I learning from my reaction to this situation?

The “goodness” isn’t in the bad event itself, but in the resilience you build because of it.

Finding goodness isn’t a destination; it’s a muscle. The more you look for it, the more your brain becomes wired to find it. You aren’t ignoring the “bad”—you are simply refusing to let it be the only thing you see.

No tree, it is said, can grow to heaven unless its roots reach down to hell._ ~Carl Jung

Several years ago I vowed to keep in touch with friends. When I thought of someone I would reach out within 24 hours. Technology makes it easier than ever before. We can make phone calls, send an email, craft a text message, or even use direct messaging on social media platforms. There is no excuse for not staying in touch with people.

Sometimes, though, people whom you respect are not close friends.  Mary Ann told me she read that most people have five truly close friends and about 150 acquaintances. At the time I thought, “I don’t have that many.” I resolved this year to add one friend to my repertoire of five.  In our senior years, developing friendships is even more difficult than when we were younger – and it was hard enough “back then.”

All that to say, sometimes there are people in your life that slip through your fingers. One of my acquaintances with whom I sometimes have lunch has been on my mind a lot of late. Each day I thought I would reach out to her by some means other than email as she had not responded to my messages for some time.  Still, I didn’t stop and take the time.  Then a few days ago, another friend sent me a text message with a link to an obituary.  Her husband had passed away unexpectedly a week before.

Immediately I picked up the phone and called.  She answered by saying, “Hello, Cynthia.” I expressed my condolences and offered to call the next week to schedule a time we could get together. I attended her husband’s (Don’s) funeral two days later.

Funerals are designed to be times to remember and honor the person who passed. They are for meeting with the family for a short moment in time, lending support and caring. Don’s funeral was well attended. Many of the people there were men and women with whom I had worked for years, all coming together in a common thread.  The service was full of remembrances and somewhat traditional.

Honestly, I cannot remember attending a traditional funeral for quite some time. Most of the services I have attended were more in the category of “Celebration of Life” opposed to a funeral with scripture and hymns. Yet, Don and his wife, my friend, are devout Christians, thus a fitting tribute to his life.

We are now at the age that we have begun to lose family members and friends. Life on earth is not eternal. These occurrences remind us to live each day fully, to love deeply, to be peaceful, and to shine light on whatever we are doing.

As I reflect on my life and those of my family, friends and acquaintances, I am reminded of the importance of connection …. Before it is too late. I hope to be remembered as a person who cared about others, who lifted them up, who spread happiness as often as possible.  How would you like to be remembered?

I wish for you, dear readers, Peace, Love, and Light.