Through Thick and Thin

At my mother-in-law's memorial service, Larry and I had the good fortune of meeting two of her dear friends, Barb and Connie.  Marty had met them through her church and they proved to be true-blue friends who stayed with her through thick and thin.  Barb, Connie and Marty became three musketeers of sorts, with Barb and Connie joining Marty for all doctor's appointments, biopsies and treatments.  They walked a most difficult journey with her, standing by her side as she received hard news about diagnoses and prognoses.  I could only thank them for all they did for Marty, but thanks seemed so inadequate for all they did in the spirit of friendship.  Talking with Barb and Connie made me think of the true-blue friends who have stood by my side during difficult times, friends who didn't look the other way when I was hurting or recovering from illness or deep in sorrow and grief.  Having true-blue friends is a gift indeed and I can only hope that I can live up to being that type of thick-and-thin friend to them.

Skaters' Waltz

With her usual artistic sensibilities, my good friend Kitty decorated the exterior of her home for the holidays this year with evergreen and red berry-bedecked ice skates.  Her beautiful decorations made me think of how much I love to watch ice skaters on television.  Their elegance on ice is true beauty and precision.  Admittedly, I am not an ice skater.  For a period of time in the mid-1970s, I wore my hair like Olympic figure skating sensation Dorothy Hamill, but that was as close as I ever got.  As a little girl, I recall getting the surprise of my young life when I first saw my mom ice skate.  She could do figure-eights.  She could ice skate backwards.  I could barely stand up, let alone move my wiggly ankles enough to propel me forward on slim silver blades.  Mom had perfected her form while ice skating as a child.  I just never caught onto it, so I eventually gave my skates to a young girl who enjoyed the sport.  Seeing as it's unlikely I'll get my skating form perfected, I'll just put my feet up, watch the skaters on TV and happily hum a few bars of "Skaters' Waltz."  Maybe I'll even grow my hair into a Dorothy Hamill "do" again, just for kicks.

Toboggan

Following the blizzard and subsequent snowfalls last month, I started hearing great stories from people about snowmobiling, snowshoeing, skiing and sledding.  All of the stories brought back fun sledding memories with our good friends, the Hillmer family.  As an only child, I didn't do much sledding except when the Hillmer family invited me to do so.  Bud and Sharon Hillmer and their children, Pam, Jon, Susan and Carol, gave me those fun memories.  On evenings similar to those we've been experiencing recently, the Hillmers would pick me up and we would head to the north shore of Devil's Lake State Park near the Nature Center where there was a spectacular hill.  The Hillmers had a great, long sled that accommodated most of us.  We'd pile onto the sled and sail down the hill, laughing and squealing the entire way.  Bud was the "driver" of the sled to ensure our safety. Then, we'd dash back up the hill on foot, dragging the big sled behind us, only to repeat the process over and over.  Many thanks to the Hillmers for helping make my winters so long ago merry and bright.

White Coral Bells

At church recently, our pastor asked the congregation what songs their mothers sang to them as lullabies.  Several members in the pews raised their hands, identifying a variety of songs, some of which I had never heard of before.  I didn't raise my hand, but I readily remembered the lullaby my mom used to sing to me.  I could even hear her soft, soothing voice as I thought about it.  The song was "White Coral Bells." I've seen the lyrics presented a little differently online, but this is the version that Mom used to sing to me (and that later we'd sing together): "White coral bells, upon a tender stalk.  Lilies of the valley line my garden walk.  Oh how I wish that I could hear them ring.  That will only happen when the fairies sing."  To this day, when I see coral bells blooming in the spring, that lovely, little song plays in my head and I think of Mom soothing my cares and worries, making the boo-boos go away, putting me to sleep while singing "White Coral Bells" gently to me.

Literary Dreamin'

My very good friend, Kitty, has once again astounded me with her abundant talents and generous heart.  On Christmas Eve, she dropped off what she called a "non-Christmas" gift at our door, a beautiful, quilted cover for a composition book she had secreted into its folds.  She had made the composition book cover of the same nature-theme fabric swatches she had used last year to make me a quilt that she called "Literary Dreams."  In careful, beautiful penmanship, Kitty wrote on the composition book cover's quilt squares words such as "Inspiration," "Ideas," and "Notes."  In the upper right-hand corner, she wrote "K.J.O. - Author."  I so appreciate Kitty's encouragement of my literary dreams.  I have a feeling that this year is going to be a Great Writing Adventure and my new composition book will hold many inspirations, ideas and notes, thanks to Kitty.

Mad About Plaid

I have had a thing about plaid this fall.  I decided that I wanted a plaid skirt and plaid pants.  It didn't matter what colors or what plaid designs.  I just knew that I wanted plaid.  So, during my regular visits to my favorite thrift store, I had my sights set on plaid and, lo and behold, I found black, pink and white plaid pants (never worn, still with the tags - Might that mean something?! Is my taste too weird?) and a black watch plaid skirt (gently used, in great shape).  The price was right for each, so I grabbed them off the rack, tried them on, found that they both fit perfectly and brought them home to launder.  I've gotten a real kick out of wearing both since then. For some reason, wearing plaid in the winter makes me smile.  Wearing these "new" plaid items makes me think of my teenage years when I had red plaid pants, pink plaid pants and some plaid skirts that I had sewed.  It's all probably pretty silly, but I kind of like being mad about plaid.

A Full Sense of Fulfillment

I heard a compelling speaker recently, laying out in great detail the rapidly changing environment of the industry in which I work -- health care -- and the need to do business differently in order to survive and thrive.  During his remarks, the keynoter quoted M. Scott Peck:  “The truth is that our finest moments are most likely to occur when we are feeling deeply uncomfortable, unhappy, or unfulfilled. For it is only in such moments, propelled by our discomfort, that we are likely to step out of our ruts and start searching for different ways or truer answers.”  Although the speaker was talking about an industry, I also heard M. Scott Peck's remarks on a personal level.  Quite recently, I've had exciting opportunities to move way outside of my comfort zone and test the so-called ruts of my life.  For the first time in my life, I will have written a book, complete with my byline on the cover.  I have been given such a great opportunity by my employer and I am deeply grateful for the chance I have been to write, especially about a subject I love.  In this new year, there will certainly be opportunities to search for different ways to do things at work, but I will also look for ways to move outside of my comfort zone and seek truer answers on a personal level.