15 things I’ve contemplated writing about but haven’t.

IMG_4785I’ve been in a slump.  I haven’t been able to write a decent post this last couple of weeks to save my life.  Lots of thoughts but I haven’t been able to get anything down. So, in no particular order, here are fifteen things that I have contemplated writing about but haven’t.

1. Sunrises in Colorado this time of year which are downright breathtaking.  (Clone the other day when he saw one out the back windows before school said “That’s some Lion King looking stuff going on out there.)

2. All that I’ve learned about supplements that can help with bruising.  I was going to call the post “Tips for my Bruising Bedfellows.”  (Since I get a new bruise every fifteen minutes.  Oh, and Arnica rocks.)

3.  The news on my Rice Krispy knees. (Doc says it’s arthritis in my knees which is common and the sound probably wont’ ever go away (YUK) but some exercising and supplements might help.)

4. The wild weather extremes we’ve had in Colorado with fires and flooding.  (Good thing global warming is totally a hoax.)

5. How much I have learned about ADD  these last few weeks and how brains in people with ADD are wired completely differently. (Found some experts and it has been eye opening. Oh, and it’s very genetic.)

6. My growing desire to quit my marketing career and work at the Container Store. (For real.  My gig is sucking the life out of me molecule by molecule.  I’m over it.)container

7. My new book idea about 25 Suburban Women I Want to Punch in the Face. (The Container Store would actually be a great place for gathering book material now that I think about it.)

8. How weird this weekend is going to be for me.  (Sunday is mom’s birthday and anniversary of my sister’s death (same day – yes that’s messed up)_ and the Alzheimer’s Walk is this weekend too.  It will be the type of weekend when I go from laughing hysterically to crying hysterically at the drop of a hat and frighten onlookers unaware of my tendencies.)


9. The strangeness of celebrating my Mother’s birthday with her when she has no idea who I am, much less that it’s her birthday.   (Don’t make me go.  *&^%#@!! Ugh.)

Cake 01

10. The fact that  I’ve been eating and drinking much better (most days) since I started working with a personal trainer. (We’ll see how much longer I can afford her but I’m starting to really notice a difference.  Luckily I hear Container Store pays well.)

11. How cool my new, free to-do app called Wunderlist is.  (It’s free and it saves me from rewriting all my lists 200 times a day.  Probably an ADD tendency.)

12. The intense waves of homesickness I still get sometimes even though I’ve lived away almost ten years. (Not sure that ever goes away completely.)

13. How weird women are. (Except for me of course.)

14. How bizarre it feels to have to kids in high school and to not be needed to drive them to and from school.  (Is there such a thing as post-middle school depression?)

15. How Steno pads and kitchen scissors scissorremind me of my Mom.  (And will probably randomly make me cry this weekend because they’ll make me think of my Mom, which will then make me think of my sister and how much I wish she could go visit Mom with me on Sunday.)

That’s all for now folks.

Happy Hump Day.

Silent in the company of sisters.


At weekly yoga class.

Two sisters, there each week.

Next to each other, happy and harmonious.

Could be twins, alike but different enough.

One comment starts the chatter all around the room,

How lucky they are to have a sister nearby to enjoy.

I nodded silently as I agreed,

Tamping pangs of envy down deep.

Then one by one … the others lamented over their sisters faraway,

Poor them.

I had a choice,

Bring down the entire room with “Bummer, mine died.”

And freak everyone the hell out,

Or keep quiet.

I chose the latter.

Invisible Capes Unite. Gratitude Experiment: Day 8

I’ve seen these words about beautiful people crop up lately and I truly appreciate what they say.  It is this very concept that I’ve thought about for years – mine involves invisible capes.

We’ve all had friends or loved ones who have experienced traumatic loss or hardships.  And as most of us know, issues like death or divorce or hardship are truly uncomfortable concepts.  But there are those who really just don’t know how to process it at all.  In turn, many times they shy away from supporting those in need of support for fear of saying the wrong thing or being uncomfortable.  Or they put it on their list, and get busy and forget.

The remaining population, in my estimation, are usually members of the invisible cape club.  They wear an invisible cape which they have earned from evolving through whatever loss or hardship they have endured .  A cape  that can only be detected by others who are wearing one.  A cape that enables them to sense when someone might need support, and to know what to do and what to say (or at least be willing to take a shot at it).  A cape that makes them nicer to the Walmart checker who accidentally overcharges them or the waiter with the late food, at least most of the time. A cape that makes them a little more human.

Not all who experience  loss or hardship are lucky enough to get a cape.  Only those who have learned from their hardships, evolved as humans, and deepened their compassion for the human condition.   We all shut down after tragic events, it’s expected.  But those who choose to make it all the way over to the other side get the cape.

They’ve put aside anger and resentment (and I know from experience that part isn’t always easy).  And they’ve learned that each of us has a choice of what and how we want to be every minute of every day.  And that there is no time like the present to make positive changes, or to write that letter or pick up the phone.  Or volunteer for that committee they’ve been thinking about for years. Because life will always be busy and as a previous post of mine discussed, if it’s important, you make it happen.  Plain and simple.

I’ve made a new friend who has a very sick sister who she may have to lose to Cancer soon. She has the cape and we talk the cape language.  My niece who lost her mother at age 12  has a cape. My friend who lost her father has one, and my dad who lost his brother at a young age and then his own daughter has a big cape which offers me protection when I need it.   Many of my friends who have suffered through painful divorces have capes.  And my friend who lost his wife and whose children lost their mother to Cancer have them (the kids have junior capes for now but they are just as powerful).

Also my dear friend who suffers depression and my neighbor who lost her husband after years of suffering, but whose beautiful smile greets me each day.  And my second Mom (my stepmom) who is one of the most selfless people I know who has herself experienced pain and loss.   She is the epitomy of a card carrying cape member – a woman who sets aside her needs for others more times than I can count.  Who forgives, who doesn’t get angry or feel sorry for herself – who is there for you when you need her before you knew you needed her.   This is all part of the cape language.

Cape members can usually spot each other or at least recognize others of their kind when real conversations can take place.  And once you experience cape language, it’s hard to go back to surface level conversation and falsities except in short doses.  Afterall, we have to recharge our capes at some point.

Today I am ever so thankful for my cape.  And I think I’m going to throw it in the wash more often and remind myself of its powers.