Paying it Forward

Sometimes it's hard for me to believe it's been four years since I sat sobbing my heart out in a conference room at work with a then vice president of the company where I work ... sobbing my heart out as I unintentionally came crawling out of the closet. There are times when I feel like the events of that day happened only yesterday, and there are other times when it seems like they took place a lifetime ago. There are days when I marvel at the perfectly orchestrated plan that led me to that room on that particular day with that particular person, and then there are days when I feel the need to chalk it up to mere coincidence because I simply cannot wrap my mind around the magnitude of the where and why and how of what took place that day.

There are weeks when I go digging around in the depths of my soul and I see an entirely different person than I was four years ago. I see a stronger, more confident, authentic me ... I see a more content and satisfied me, a more accepting and transparent me. But there also remain weeks when I can barely force myself to look within because I see the same old me. I see a frightened, lonely, condemned me ... I see a rejected and despised me, an isolated and hopeless me. But ... and this is a big but ... no matter the times, no matter the days, no matter the weeks, there is one truth that somehow continues to rise to the top of my abundantly self-deprecating mind: I am making progress. Granted that there are many times when my progress may feel as though it's creeping slower than a caterpillar on a rainy day, the fact remains that it is indeed progress. And for today ... for this special day ... that's good enough for me.

As it should be, tonight I'm joined in writing by two amazing women ... two amazing women who humble me, inspire me and challenge me. Two amazing women who are committed to making the world a better place ... one person at a time. So grab a bag of Doritos and a Dr. Pepper and settle in to read for a bit. Consider yourself warned, however ... you may come away from this evening's post with an overwhelming desire to first count your blessings and then to pay it forward.



The first time it happened to me was several years ago at the drive-thru window of my favorite Starbucks. I reached out to give my debit card to the gal working the window and was surprised when she waved it away as she said, "No charge today ... the gentleman in the car in front of you paid for your drink." I was even more surprised as she went on to tell me that the gifting had been going on for a couple of days, not just in the drive-thru lane but inside the store as well. The Starbucks employee then asked me if I'd like to join in on the "pay it forward" phenomenon and pay for the drink of the person in the car behind me, and I didn't hesitate as I handed her my debit card and said, "You bet I do!" As I pulled away from the window that morning, I smiled as I pondered which made me happier, having my drink paid for by the person in the car in front of me or paying for the drink of the person in the car behind me. That may well have been the shortest length of pondering time on record for me as I quickly said aloud, "Man, that felt good! Paying for that guy's drink when he wasn't expecting it felt really, really good!"

"Have you ever thought about what your legacy will be? Does it have to be big and impact hundreds of people? Or is it simply something people remember most about you? How do you define your legacy and then live it most every day? What do you want to be remembered for? And then how do live that more and more each day? Are you a person who pays it forward? Are you showing people your best self most of the time? Are you living the life you want to, knowing what your legacy will be?"

"Giving is good for both our physical and emotional health. A wide range of research has consistently linked differing forms of generosity to better health, even among the chronically ill and elderly. Researchers suggest that one reason may improve physical health and longevity is that it helps to decrease stress, which is associated with a variety of physical issues and ailments. People who give to others maintain a lower blood pressure, suggesting a direct physiological benefit to those who give of themselves. Studies conducted by the National Institutes of Health found that the act of giving activates regions of the brain associated with pleasure, social connection and trust creating a 'warm glow' effect. Scientists believe that altruistic behavior releases endorphins in the brain that produce the positive feeling known as the 'helper's high.'"

I'm pretty sure I'm safe in saying that I've learned a life lesson or two on my journey of the last four years. A lot of those lessons have been big ones ... huge, gigantic, life-altering lessons, not the least of which has been learning how important it is to pay it forward. I wouldn't be here today had certain people chosen not to invest in me. Those kind and compassionate people made a conscious decision to give freely of themselves to help me ... while expecting nothing in return for themselves, I might add ... and in doing so, they created within me a desire to give of myself to others. After all they did for me, how could I not choose to do the same for someone else? How could I not pay it forward, friends ... how could I not?

"We have had an incredible life coach at work, someone we have all been so fortunate to work with for several years. During one work session, she had us write our own obituary. Sitting down, taking time to think about what I want others to remember about me. To think about how they will recap my life here on earth. This is a very humbling and intimidating process, among other things. But it quickly becomes very inspirational and a bit scary. What have I done that is noteworthy? What will I do that is noteworthy? Do I need to do anything that is noteworthy? What will my family remember most about me? Will I have been there for my friends? Will I have helped co-workers when they needed me most? What if I haven't helped enough? What can I shift to ensure I'm living the life I want to be remembered for? How can I constantly be building toward my legacy?"

"Giving promotes cooperation and social connection. When we give to others, our generosity is likely to be rewarded down the line; sometimes by the person you gave to and sometimes by someone else. These exchanges promote a sense of trust and cooperation that strengthens our ties to others and makes us feel connected rather than isolated. When we give to others, we make them feel closer to us and we also feel closer to them as well. Being kind and generous leads us to perceive others in a more positive light, fostering a heightened awareness and empathy to their needs and causing us to be more receptive when we are the receiver of kindness." 

If you would have told me four years ago that my coming out post would quickly lead me to a place of understanding what paying it forward truly means, I would have thought you were out of your mind. But there I was on January 1, 2013, sitting alone in the dark in the middle of my living room reading message after message after message from people I knew I would never meet this side of heaven. People like Elizabeth, the 13-year-old girl who wrote, "I'm 13 years old and all I want to do is die. I have a gun and I have bullets and all I want to do is die." Or Maurice who said, "I'm still in the closet and I'm 82 years old." Or Elisa whose words carved a crevice deep into my heart on that cold, rainy January night ... "Now go help other people who need you."

"When I think of my own legacy, I hope it's one built around positivity. And one of personal growth. How can I help others become the best, most successful, most positive version of themselves? How can I work to bring happiness and success to those around me? When I think about my kids' future and what I can help them build, it always seems to come back to happiness, success, fulfillment. And a lot of kindness along the way."

"Giving is contagious. When one person behaves generously it often inspires observers to behave generously too, toward different people. Researchers have found that each person has the ability to influence or help dozens or even hundreds of people by helping one by applying the three degrees theory - you give to one person who then gives to another who then gives to another and each of those people give to others. The long-term effects of the initial act of generosity can jumpstart a cycle of giving where one person's behavior triggers that of another. One simple act of kindness carries with it the potential to create a wave of giving that extends far beyond your initial purchase of the guy's coffee in the car behind you."

It didn't happen overnight, but I've eventually found ways to pay it forward following my conference room confession four years ago. I began speaking to groups of LGBT teens and their parents, served as a panelist at suicide prevention seminars, created the Ears Wide Open? video, "helped old ladies put their groceries into their cars, took food and blankets to my homeless pals who live under the bridge, listened when a friend needed to talk ... I began looking for every opportunity I could find to help someone else along the way. And guess what happened? I quickly realized that every time I paid it forward, it caused me to spend my time focusing on others than on myself. That night I delivered the hams in the hood and met the elderly gentleman who told me he and his wife had gone without food for three days? I sure as heck wasn't thinking about all my stuff when that old guy's eyes filled with tears as he thanked me for the ham. It was impossible to worry about my own problems while I was standing outside on a dark November night wishing I had an old-fashioned handkerchief to give the old man who stood before me with tears pouring down his face. Plain and simple ... paying it forward is good for my soul and I'd bet my last penny it will be good for yours as well.

"It's a lot to think about. How will you be remembered? What will your legacy be? What can you start doing today to build toward that? What can you stop doing that is taking from your best self? Go build a legacy, friends! Start small and make a big impact. Your legacy is up to you - no one else can write that for you. Or maybe they can, but do you want them to??"

"Giving evokes gratitude. Giving can be a means of expressing gratitude or instilling it in the recipient and gratitude is integral to happiness. Cultivating a sense of gratitude in our daily lives causes us to be more optimistic and to feel better about our lives overall. When we express our gratitude in words or actions, we not only boost our own positivity but that of others as well. Think of it in this way, who is happier when you give your dog a treat, you or your dog? As our good friend Terrie would say: stew on that one for a while."

If I haven't learned anything else during the last four years, I've learned this ... paying it forward is a lot like tossing a rock into a still pool of water. Doing something kind for another person has the potential to send ripples out into the world far beyond what I can see. So many people made a conscious decision to give freely of themselves to help me while expecting nothing in return for themselves, and my guess is that many of you have people in your own lives who've done the same for you. How can I ... how can you ... how can we not choose to do the same for someone else? How can we not pay it forward, friends ... how can we not?

Keep in Touch

There are plenty of negative things that can be said about social media, but there's also a ton of positive things that can be said as well. Using social media for cyber-bullying or to facilitate sex trafficking makes me physically ill, and every time I read about a young teen who commits suicide as a result of being publicly humiliated on various social channels, it makes me want to go off the grid for the rest of my life. I wish there was a way to eliminate all of the bad things that can accompany social media and keep only the good things. Good things like getting friend requests from people I went to high school with or receiving tweets with photos of folks I haven't seen in decades or keeping up on what's going on in the lives of people I may not see very often. While I will always remain unwavering in my belief that nothing should ever take the place for face-to-face interaction and communication, I am also grateful for the way technology, and social media in particular, allows me to keep in touch with the people whom I might otherwise lose contact with.

One of the best things about working in the advertising industry is that the business by its very nature attracts a lot of younger folks. One of the worst things about working in the advertising industry is that those younger folks tend to move on to other agencies as they advance in their careers. And when I say "worst things," I mean worst in the sense that I'm not the greatest when it comes to saying goodbye, especially when those goodbyes come with the knowledge that I may well never see or hear from the person again. There are always the invariable, "I'll definitely keep in touch," words uttered, usually followed up with the customary, "We'll do lunch soon!" I've been around long enough to know that more often than not, the truth is that those words, while spoken in earnest at the time of someone's departure, are merely that ... words. We all know that words without action are ... well ... they're just words. I, however, have been very fortunate over the years to have more than a few of those young folks who said they'll keep in touch actually do so. And I've gotta tell you, friends, it's a special feeling for me when they do ... when those kids reach out to an old gal like me and say, "I miss you, Terrie ... can we meet for lunch next week?" 

Over the last few months, several of the young people I've worked with in the past have contacted me, and I've been blessed to be able to meet up with each of them for lunch. One showed up with a big old pregnant belly, and I was just tickled pink as she talked about her little one on the way. One shared some very happy news with me that she hadn't shared with anyone outside of her family. One excitedly told me how he had just proposed to his girlfriend the week before. One showed me photos and videos of his new dog, and asked if we could arrange a play date soon between his Bridger and my Ollie. Just as each one of those sweet young people are different from one another, so were the stories they shared with me during our time together. But their was one thing that was exactly the same the moment we said hello and the moment we said goodbye ... the hugs. Every single one of those kids hugged the starch out of me. Their hugs from those young people had me blinking back the tears ... their hugs made me feel loved and valued ... their hugs said more to me than a million words ever could. Their hugs gave all new meaning and importance to the words, "Keep in touch."

It wasn't until I arrived home on Wednesday evening that the emotion and exhaustion from being in an accident that morning on my way to work finally washed through me. Like he does each evening when I get home, Ollie came running to the door the minute he heard me open it and quickly jumped into my arms. As I stood there holding his squirming little body as he tried his best to lick my face, I said, "Buddy ... tonight I wish you had arms instead of paws so you could hug me." And as I watched my little wiener dog run through the yard, ears flapping in the wind and tail wagging as fast as it possibly could, tears filled my eyes as I whispered those words again ... "Tonight I sure do wish you had arms instead of paws, wiener boy ... I wish you had arms so you could hug me." The phrase "You don't realize what you have until it's gone" bounced around in my brain a lot that evening ... actually, it's been bouncing around in my brain ever since. Were it not for my friend Yosef who hugs me every time he sees me, there are many weeks now when I don't feel the touch of another human being. Which means I'm screwed if you believe what doctors and scientists say about the need every human has for a certain number of hugs each day to maintain one's emotional and mental well-being. I've come to accept that being hugless is just part of living alone, but there are some days ... well ... there are some days when I wish my little wiener dog had arms instead of paws. 

Keep in touch, friends ... give a hug or two to someone this week, and keep in touch.

Blink

So here's how my day started yesterday ... just like every other morning of my life starts. Get out of bed. Take Ollie outside to pee. Bring Ollie inside and feed him. Take a shower. Blow dry my hair. Gel my hair. Put on makeup. Brush my teeth. Get dressed. Put on my shoes. Take Ollie back outside to poop. Bring Ollie inside and give him his pill. Take my pills. Eat a spoonful of peanut butter so my pills don't make me puke. Make myself a breakfast I can eat in the car. Pack my lunchbox. Give Ollie some snuggles and a treat. Grab my backpack, lunchbox and water bottle and get in the car. Feel guilty for leaving Ollie. Get out of the car and go back inside to give him another snuggle and tell him I love him. Get back in the car. Get on the interstate to drive to work. Eat my on-the-go breakfast. Complain about all the construction on the interstate. Get to work ... oh, wait ... instead of getting to work like I normally do, yesterday I spent an hour or so parked on the shoulder of the interstate in my smashed-up Subaru waiting for the police to arrive and write up an accident report. Don't worry, I'm okay, just sore knees and achy shoulders ... my beloved little Subie car took quite a beating, though, and had to be towed to the body shop. I'm still waiting for the word on whether it's repairable ... poor little car.

I had a rough time going to sleep last night, partly because of the stormy weather (which you all know I absolutely love ... not) but also because every time I closed my eyes, I felt like I was in the car crash all over again. No matter how hard I tried, my brain just refused to stop the instant replay of the moment of impact ... that, combined with all the thunder and lightning, kept me awake until the wee hours of the morning. By the way, I had a hard time deciding if Ollie's contented snoring as he lay cuddled up next to me last night was adorable or annoying ... I mean, come on, how dare my little wiener dog be able to snooze away like that when I couldn't get to sleep? When I finally did go to sleep, I dreamed about tornadoes and floods and Ollie getting into a fight with a coyote and being on a plane that crashed into the ocean and living on a deserted island with Ollie and a cute little monkey named Penelope. I'm quite certain my life-saving head doctor will have a field day with that info for sure.

Now here's the thing, friends ... it's been more than 30 years since I've been in a car accident. I know that may be super hard for some of you who've ridden with me to believe, but it's true. As I was sitting in my car on the side of the interstate yesterday morning, I suddenly realized that all those years of driving excellence had come crashing down around me in a moment's notice ... in less time than it took me to blink, I went from being an excellent driver to being a driver who had a major wreck. It wasn't until this morning, however, as I hauled my achy, sore body out of bed that I realized how often that holds true in so many different areas of life. In less time than it takes to blink, a doctor can say the words, "You have a terminal illness," and someone goes from being healthy to dying. In less time than it takes to blink, a relationship ends, and people go from being together to being apart. In less time than it takes to blink, a job is lost, and a person goes from making a living to struggling to provide for their family. 

But you know what? That in less time than it takes to blink works the other way, too. In less time than it takes to blink, the doctor can say the words, "It's not cancer," and fear is instantly replaced with relief. In less time than it takes to blink, a person can meet a new friend and go from being lonely to having someone to hang out with. In less time than it takes to blink, someone lands a job and goes from wondering how they will make ends meet to being able to pay all the bills. In less time than it takes me to blink, I can be thankful that I wasn't injured in the accident yesterday. In less time than it takes me to blink, I can appreciate the people who love me. In less time than it takes me to blink, I can say, "Thank you." In less time than it takes me to blink, I can draw another breath ... live another moment ... smile another smile ... help another someone who's hurting. In less time than it takes me to blink, I can live in the moment and love like there's no tomorrow.

When I was playing with Ollie this evening, there was one more thing I couldn't help but acknowledge ... I took being a good driver for granted. I didn't even begin to appreciate the gift of being accident-free for all those years. I'll let you mull that one over for a while, but I'll give you a hint ... it's got nothing to do with cars and everything to do with people. Yep ... mull that one over for a good long while ... a good, good, good long while indeed. And while you're at it, ponder this closing quote from a dear friend ... take no one for granted, my friends, because in less time than it takes to blink ...

"Cars can be replaced. Good people cannot."

Fake It Till You Make It

Spaghetti. Jelly Bellies. Lasagna. Pumpkin pie. Strawberry pie. Chocolate pie. Banana cream pie. Cherry pie. Pecan pie. Apple pie. Key lime pie. Every kind of pie. Meghann's mashed potatoes. Garlic bread. Real ice cream. Sweet potatoes with brown sugar and caramel. Anything with caramel in it, on it or around it, especially caramel apples and Starbucks cafe vanilla frapuccinos. That green jello stuff with Eagle Brand Milk and marshmallows and pineapple. French fries with ketchup. Hot chocolate with lots and lots of marshmallows. Stuffed shells. Creamy tacos. Crunchy tacos. Taco Bell burrito supremes. Life cereal. Fresh peaches. Sweet tea. Caramelized onions. Green Goddess salad dressing. Apple cider slushes from the cider mill. Doritos. Popcorn. Raisins. Dressing with gravy. Biscuits and gravy. Hash browns with gravy. Anything with gravy. And last but most certainly not least in any way, shape, form or fashion, pizza.

Other than being on every human's list of sheer and utter deliciousness ... and if they aren't, they most certainly should be ... all of those items I mentioned in my opening paragraph moved quickly into the "off-limits" category for me a few years ago when I was diagnosed with diabetes. I'm 100+ pounds lighter now that I don't eat any of those yummy things anymore, which means I'm much healthier than I was when I did eat them. It's good that I don't eat three bowls of Meghann's mashed potatoes for breakfast anymore, washed down with a giant sugar-laden frappucino with a chaser of a half a bag of Rollos candy ... oh, man, how did I leave Rollos off of my aforementioned list? For the most part, I don't crave those off-limits foods, but every now and again I'll have a day when I'd give everything I own to have a gigantic bowl of Meghann's mashed potatoes or a big, tall glass of sweet tea or a couple ... OK, OK, 10 ... bags of Doritos or a few dozen slices of ooey-gooey pizza. I definitely miss Meghann's mashed potatoes the most of all, but a chicken and spinach Alfredo pizza sure comes in at a close second. 

As you may have surmised from my previous post, I was pretty worn out by the time last week was over ... so much so that I spent a good amount of time Friday evening laying on my couch and surfing the Internet. I rarely look at recipes or cooking blogs or anything food related, but something caught my eye that night that caused me to get up off my beloved couch and dig out a diabetic cookbook that Matt and Becca gave me for Christmas not long after I was diagnosed. As I browsed through the book, one particular recipe title jumped off the page at me ... Cauliflower Fake Pizza Crust. I'll readily admit that I was skeptical when I read the words, "So close to flour crust, you won't be able to tell the difference," but you can bet your butt that when I went to the grocery store on Saturday, I bought the necessary ingredients to give that sucker a try. After the crust was finished baking, I topped it with a little bit of Alfredo sauce, frozen spinach, grilled chicken and a healthy dose of cheese, popped it back in the oven for another 15 minutes and waited rather impatiently for it to be done so I could taste it. I'll spare you the details, but suffice it to say that I had to cut myself off or I would have eaten the entire "pizza" in one sitting. Unlike a lot of substitute foods for those of us on low-carb, low-sugar diets, the fake crust really did taste like real pizza crust.

So why am I writing about my most delicious fake pizza crust? I'm sure you've heard the saying, "Fake it till you make it," haven't you? I'm guessing most of us have heard that phrase used multiple times in multiple contexts during the course of our lives ... at least I know I have anyway. I think I've probably heard it more ... no,wait ... I know I've definitely heard it more than ever since I was diagnosed with depression. I've learned that it's merely a lack of understanding concerning the illness that is depression that causes people to say things like, "Pull yourself up by your bootstraps," or "Just choose to be happy," or "Count your blessings instead of your sorrows," or my personal favorite, "You can get glad in the same britches you got sad in if you just put your mind to it." But the "Fake it till you make it" phrase? Well, those words fall into an entirely different category for me ... those words make me think and consider and ponder and mull over the basic precept of what they're encouraging me to do, or not do, as the case may be.

Perhaps part of the reason those words cause me to think so deeply is because I lived five decades of my life trying with everything in me to fake it until I made it ... trying so desperately to believe that if I just faked it long enough, I would wake up one day and miraculously be straight instead of gay. Maybe that's why I struggle with the concept of faking it till I make it ... maybe it's because I know what it feels like to hide who I am and to bury what I feel. But then there are times when I want to do just that ... fake it until I make it and believe with everything within me that it will work. Those are the times when I wish I could just take a scalpel to my soul and slice away my aversion to pretending ... times when I wish I could just turn off that "be open, honest, real and transparent" mantra within my brain and fake it till I make it. Trust me when I say, you have absolutely no idea how many times I wish I could fake it till I make it ... you have absolutely no idea.

So here's the thing, friends ... even though the cauliflower pizza crust is really, really, really good and I'll definitely be eating a lot more of it, I will always know it's not the real deal. No matter how many times I consume the cauliflower crust or how great it tastes, I'll always know the truth ... I'll always know what's really inside that crust ... and I'll know what's not. And for tonight, that's good enough for me ... that's good enough for me, sweet friends ... that's good enough for me.

Name This Post

When I was out walking with Ollie this evening, I had what I think might just be a darn good idea ... and yes, I do have those once every decade or two. I'll write a list of things and then you gals and guys can name the post. Cool, right? Genius, eh? I'm the most creative, fun writer you've ever known? Why, thank you! Now that we've agreed upon the greatness of my literary skills and talent, have at it, friends ... go ahead and name this post.

The rushing water of a mountain stream. The feel of baby toes in the palm of my hand. The sound of crunchy autumn leaves under my feet. Building fires in the fireplace at work. The smell of a puppy's breath. A cool breeze on a hot day. The sound my boots make when I walk in the snow. The look in Coraline and Amelie's eyes when they see me at the airport. No sugar added ice cream from Coldstone's. The friend at work who goes out of their way to come to my corner to say hi because they miss seeing me. A tall glass of iced tea after I mow the lawn. A cold beer after I mow the lawn on a really hot day. Waking up with Ollie's paw on my face. Hearing the words "I love you." Saying the words "I love you." Driving a Jeep Wrangler with the top off when the temperature is in the mid-70s. Giving clothes and food to my homeless pals under the bridge. Getting a phone call or text in the evening or on the weekend from a friend at work who knows I get lonely. Helping a friend who's going through a rough time. Listening to someone who needs someone to talk to. Spending time with my kids. The smell of clean sheets fresh from the dryer. Walking on the trail with my wiener dog. Kansas sunsets. Giving and caring and helping and loving, period. Getting a message from a friend I haven't seen in years. Snuggling with my granddaughters while I read to them. Rich Hill on the 4th of July. Maine. Canada. Seeing a moose in Colorado. Seeing anything in Colorado. Watching Coraline learn to ice skate. Pulling Amelie in the sled. Bulk Barn. Breakfast at First Watch. When someone tells me I matter to them. Writing. Falling asleep with Ollie's paw on my face. Laughing until I can't catch my breath. Watching Meghann run. Watching Brad film. Watching Matt be a daddy. The brightness of a full moon in the night sky. Giving away hams in the hood. Holding a friend's hand when they need someone to hold their hand. The first taste when I bite into a big, juicy blackberry. The smell of cookies baking in the oven. Getting a "just because" card from a friend. Little kid laughter and baby giggles. Hearing the words "I trust you." Saying the words "I trust you." Going home to Tennessee to be with my family who loves me. Being there for a friend when they need me. Singing in the shower and no one can hear me except Ollie. Dog kisses from Ollie even after he hears me sing. Reading a book by candlelight. Friends who promise not to leave. Friends who promise not to leave and keep their promise. The blooms on the tiger lilies in my yard. Watching Michael Phelps swim. The sound of the ocean crashing into the rocks. The smell of the air in the mountains. Matt's smile. Becca's smile. Brad's smile. Shelby's smile. Meghann's smile. Barrett's smile. Coraline's smile. Amelie's smile. My family's smiles. My friends' smiles. When someone trusts me enough to tell me their story. The way Ollie hops when we go for a walk. Openness. Honesty. Realness. Transparency. When people do what they say they will do. When I do what I say I will do. Sleeping in on Saturday mornings. My life-saving head doctor. My regular doctor. Medication that keeps me alive. Wearing bow ties and suspenders. Helping Coraline catch her first fish. Laying on my couch watching a good movie on a cold, rainy day. The feel of the water on my skin in the shower. Decaf coffee. Scallops. Sugar-free chocolate syrup. Reading the stories of people who've overcome great obstacles. Having Ollie with me on an airplane. Having Ollie with me in the car. Having Ollie with me anywhere. When someone tells me they appreciate me. When I tell someone I appreciate them. When I wake up and thank God for giving me another day. Counting blessings instead of sorrows. Believing in someone. Having someone believe in me. Laughing ... loving ... living.

Name this post, friends ... name this post. And then write one of your own.

That Face

Remember that one time you were sitting at your desk on a Wednesday morning working away and you hear someone say your name and you turn around and it's your son who lives in Maine who you didn't think you were going to see until Thursday evening because you knew he was filming at a hospital in a little town about 20 miles away and when you turn around and see him you hug the living daylights out of him for a really long time and he hugs the living daylights out of you, too, and you try really hard not to cry but you do anyway and you don't give a crap who sees you? Oh wait ... that wasn't you, that was me and all of that happened today. True story.

For those of you who are empty-nesters, and particularly those of you whose adult kiddos live far away from you, my guess is you completely understand the feeling that swept through me when I turned around in my chair this morning and saw my Brad's face. And I'd bet my last penny that you totally get it when I tell you that my first thought was, "He's home." And though I'm certain it goes without saying, that thought was followed closely by the next one ... "That face ... I miss that face so much."

As Brad visited with some of the folks in my office, I couldn't help but notice how at ease he was and that he had a new sense of confidence about him. My mind swirled as the thoughts rolled in ... "Look at him smile ... he has such a beautiful smile" ... "He's matured so much in the last year," ... "I'm so proud of the man he's become," ... "That face ... I miss that face so very much," ... "God have mercy on my soul ... do not let me cry in front of the co-CEOs and the managing partner and the vice president," ... "Remember when he wore a fireman costume for like three years?" ... "Where has all the time gone?" ... "Look at him smile," ... "Look at that face," ... "Look at his heart," ... "Look at my son," ... "God, oh God, please don't let me cry in front of Ali and JJ and Rand and Jim ... please God ... just this once, please don't let me cry."

Brad's visit this morning was a short one because he needed to get to his shoot, but we'll have some quality time together over the weekend before he heads back to Maine on Monday. For as long as I hugged him when I first saw him this morning, I hugged him equally as long when he left my office. As I watched him walk down the stairs, another thought came crashing into my mind ... one I can't shake ... one I think may hang around for a while ... one I hope will make me appreciate more deeply the moments I have with my children, my grandchildren, my extended family and my friends. "You don't know what you have until it's gone."

That face, my friends ... that face.

You May Be Obsessed With the Olympics if ...

I'm pretty certain that most first-time parents will agree with me that for a couple of weeks after your baby arrives, you can barely take your eyes off of that little screaming, pooping, wiggling little human. I mean seriously, it's hard to look away from that adorable face even for a moment, isn't it? Unless, of course, your first child just happens to make his entrance into the world at the same time as the summer Olympics are taking place in Los Angeles and you spend a couple of weeks at your mom's house and have a television in the bedroom. Go ahead and say it ... I'm a terrible mother because I didn't spend every waking moment staring at my firstborn son in the first couple of weeks of his life ... sorry, Mattie. Before you judge me too terribly harshly, let me assure you that I didn't ignore my  beloved baby boy, I just alternated between looking at him and looking at the athletes who were competing in the Olympic games.

It doesn't make sense to me that I enjoy watching the Olympics as much as I do because I just don't watch sports on television. Well, I did watch some of the World Series games last year because I was afraid I'd get kicked out of Kansas City if I didn't ... you know, go Royals and all that stuff. Heck, I'll watch some totally sappy movie on Lifetime before I'll watch sports on TV, but when it comes to the Olympics ... well, that's an entirely different ball game. Yes, you should be laughing out loud at what I did there ... I don't like to watch sports on television but the Olympics is an entirely different ball game ... get it? I'm sitting here cracking up at my cleverness, which totally means that you should be, too. But I digress ... back to what I was saying about watching the Olympics on TV. I've done a lot of that since Friday evening's opening ceremony ... watched the Olympics, that is ... and after what happened when I mowed my yard this evening, I think I may possibly have to admit that my obsession with the Olympics might be just a tad bit out of control.

I'm not quite sure what possessed me to do so, but when I pushed the lawnmower out of my garage, I decided that I was going to set a new record time for how long it took me to mow the yard. I even went back inside and got my phone so that I could set the stopwatch to accurately time myself down to the second. And as I filled the mower tank with gas, I said out loud, "And now competing for the U.S. in the lawn mowing event is Terrie Johnson. She holds the world record in this event at 45 minutes 13 seconds. No one has ever come close to that time so it will be interesting to see if she can actually break the record she set in 2014." Yep ... I know ... just one more feather to toss in the "Terrie really is crazy" bucket. But you know what? I mowed the yard tonight in a record-shattering 42 minutes 51 seconds, so there.

Seriously though ... the real reason I love watching the Olympics has absolutely nothing to do with the events the athletes are competing in and absolutely everything to do with the athletes themselves. It's their stories ... the swimmer with Crohn's disease ... the gymnast who was told he would never walk again ... every single member of the first Refugee Olympic Team ... the athletes themselves are the reason I watch the Olympics. To see the sacrifices so many of them have made and the discipline they possess to push themselves beyond what most of us would consider humanly possible is truly inspirational to me. Watching the athletes pursue their dreams makes me hope ... even if it's only for a moment ... watching the dreams they have chased for so long come true makes me hope that maybe, just maybe, it's not too late for one or two of my own dreams to come true, too.

"Unbelievable! Terrie Johnson has broken her own lawn mowing world record with a time of 42:51 ... we didn't think it was possible but she did it!"

And the crowd of squirrels and rabbits and my faithful wiener dog go wild ...

Special Deliveries

It doesn't matter how young or old you are, there's a special feeling that accompanies getting something in the mail from someone you love. And if you're one of two very special little Canadians and that something that comes in the mail just happens to be from your beloved Ghee ... well, that pretty much ensures that it's going to be an extra special delivery. And I'll tell you a secret ... one of the best things in life is Skyping with those two girlsies and watching them when they open the packages I send them. The looks on their faces, the excitement in their eyes, the high-pitched squeal from Amelie when she discovers the pretend bacon ... yes, it's true ... I did indeed send my littlest granddaughter some fake bacon as part of her gift for her second birthday. Don't judge me ... the kid loves to play like she's cooking in her little kitchen, and it just so happens that she especially loves to pretend that she's cooking bacon. I will admit, however, that when my daughter-in-law told me that little Miss Ambo sneaks the pretend bacon into bed with her at night, it made me worry that my littlest grandgal may have inherited just a touch of her Ghee's craziness.

Last week was filled with special deliveries from, for and to the people I love most in this world. The package I sent to my son Matt arrived just in time for his 32nd birthday on Wednesday. I cried like a baby on Thursday when I opened a very special gift from a very special person back home in Tennessee. My nephew Charlie had a blast giving his daughter Caroline and his nephew Ahmed a science lesson with the dry ice that protected the famous Joe's KC Barbecue I sent him. And I was abundantly pleased with myself on Friday when the way cool gifts I had ordered for my son-in-law's upcoming birthday were delivered to my office. Different deliveries with different items for different people but all for the same reason, and that reason is love.

In thinking about last week's package bonanza, I took a little stroll down memory lane and thought about various cards and gifts I've received over the years and as I did, I realized something. It's never been what was inside the special deliveries that meant so very much to me ... even though what was inside was usually pretty freaking awesome. It was knowing that someone was thinking about me ... that I mattered enough to my family or my friends that they took time out of their busy lives to do something extra special just for me. It was, still is and will always be the love behind the delivery that matters most to me. Wait a sec ... I guess that means it is what's inside that matters most to me ... inside their hearts, that is.

You know what, friends? Life can be a real bitch sometimes, and it's awfully easy to let the tyranny of the urgent cause us to forget what's most important in life ... each other. Think about it ... think about it and then be someone's special delivery this week.