There are times when my husband would ask, “Are you listening to me?” And I wasn’t… not really.
I’m married now, and it’s the second time around. My life and my focus are very different than it was the first time. I’m secure enough with myself where I unapologetically recognize I need to change.
The problem reared its head when numerous times my husband would ask, “Are you listening to me?” I would have to admit, even though I thought I was, my mind was often far away.
When did I stop listening to him?
It never happened when we first fell in love… my sole focus was on hearing what he had to say. I wanted to drink in every conversation, and I’d remember every word he said.
In thinking about it, I noticed non-listening times would rear up mostly because of stress; my mind wandered trying to find solutions to problems and situations. But also my...
How in the world do I take care of my kids when my heart just shattered in a million little pieces?
I asked this question years ago when I lost my 16-year-old son during the Type A Flu epidemic. He was misdiagnosed by the doctor and died within 24 hours from untreated bacterial meningitis.
I can’t go on with the story without telling you my own grief recovery is one of the things I’m most proud of.
Not only did it change me, but it was also the greatest love story I could give to my living children.
It wasn’t easy, and the truth is, grief is not something you ever get over. It’s a way of life you learn to accept.
Now, I can’t imagine who I was before the loss.
Life is different. I’m different.
And Covid-19 has erupted those feelings of another major life change all over again.
How you handle this pandemic will lay the foundation for the adults your children will become.
As I studied for my grief recovery certification...
Are you seeing this time as a dip… or a ladder to the best that’s yet to come?
“Every now and then, something happens in life that seems to open a door you didn’t expect, and it serves as a threshold to other things.”
Last night I went to bed when I felt tired. Today, I woke up when my body wanted to. No alarm, just the feeling I’d slept exactly as long as I was supposed to.
It’s the first time I can remember that I have no schedule.
On the first few days of the quarantine, I set a rigorous agenda of waking up at 7:00 am, walking for an hour a day, going over my client list of obligations, making calls, then writing in the afternoon.
But about a week into this new work-from-home plan, I relaxed.
I began listening to my inner thermostat. What does my body want? What is my mind telling me to do? When is my optimum time for creativity? When am I at my best talking on the phone to clients?
It’s a strange new way of living…...
My daughter called me right after the coronavirus pandemic and “sheltering in” began. “Mom, I just got back from the grocery store… when did everyone start baking bread?”
I apparently wasn’t the only one who had the great bread baking obsession.
I had just made my third trip to the grocery store looking for flour.
I combed the racks, even risking my life attempting to climb to the top shelf (disregarding the sign that said not to). I knew that’s where they hid the overstock.
It’s been 3 weeks now, and the stores are still out of flour.
I scrolled through Facebook and recognized the problem immediately.
There was not one, nor two… but at least four people who proudly posted photos of their fresh-baked bread… and one who’d even made buns!
Who knew people were closet bread bakers? Was it inspiration from binging Netflix’s Great British Baking Show? Thanks to Paul Hollywood, I learned what...
When I tell my story, people almost don’t believe it could happen. But it did. And telling it might save one life or many.
Two decades ago, my son, Garrett, died suddenly during the Type A Flu epidemic. The doctor misdiagnosed him as having the flu, and 24 hours later he died in his bed at home, sometime in the early morning hours.
I found him. But the odd thing is, I knew something was wrong the moment I woke up. I ran down the stairs toward his bedroom and screamed before I ever reached his door. I just knew.
I frantically jumped on top of him performing CPR, screaming his name, breathing my breath into his, but with no response. I wrapped my arms around his body and could feel he was still warm, but his lips were cold.
My husband and my three young children stood watching in horror, paralyzed by what was happening.
I kept trying to revive him with...