Category Archives: Family

Yesterday, I saw my grandmother in the mirror

The days have come and gone when I looked in the mirror and said “Hello, Mother!”  We’ve all heard the jokes. We women past a certain age have experienced that momentary start – seeing ourselves at the same age we vividly remember the face of our mother. The first time I saw my mother’s face in the mirror, I put on a bit more makeup and got a new hairstyle.

Yesterday, when I looked in the mirror, I saw my grandmother.  This is no insult. Grandma died at the young age of 65; having had no time to go gray. Her wits and energy  were still about her. The age at which I remember most vividly her daily influence on my life, is about my current age.

So, yesterday, with hair pulled back from my face and wound into a bun in preparation for a facial, I looked in the mirror, straight into my grandmother’s eyes. Yes, they were tired.  But they were tired from bold adventure.  They were Magna Carta eyes.  Eyes that came over on the Mayflower, with a faint trace of lips that said, “Speak for yourself, John.”

The face I was looking at was that of a woman who knows how to make school clothes and curtains from whatever is at hand, can fruits and vegetables in preparation for winter, knead and bake bread, teach school, ride a horse, plant and plow. She has bathed in the kitchen in water heated on a woodstove, made a home from houses old and new and loves to travel. She taught her sons how to throw and catch a softball and football, started her own business, wrote and published a book, and loves to roll with and support the creative endeavors of her children.

Oh wait.  I don’t think that last sentence applies to my grandmother.

Why then, do the young men smirk when I take my own car in for an oil change?  Why condescend when I ask – and pay – for help with a new car key?

Why hermits should sing

Singing is aerobic. Aerobic activity releases endorphins which promote a feeling of well-being. A feeling of well-being brings happiness. Yes, singing requires an intake of oxygen which is invigorating.  A couple of years back, when I was singing with the quartet, I had to remember to finish practicing well before 8:00 o’clock in the evening if I wished to get to sleep on time.  You may have experienced the same cause and effect if you play a wind instrument.

Talking is a somewhat aerobic activity.  They say friendship talking releases endorphins. Perhaps that is because we feel connected, or maybe because of the intake of added oxygen.  I was reminded of this Thursday night on the way back from an outdoor concert.  My cousin and I rode in the back seat to chat while her husband drove and a friend rode in the passenger seat.  The stars were brilliant and we reminisced about a similar night sky when she was seven and I six years old.  The olde tyme simplicity of conversation left me feeling great.  A delightful evening well spent.  Singing or talking can become downright intoxicating.

Frankly, since I live single, I don’t get a frequent chance to talk just for the sake of getting historic.  No problem. Walking or hiking is also an aerobic activity. Walking in the great outdoors, getting a bit of exercise out in nature is another essential for that feeling of well-being.

So, here’s what I am thinking:  Unless hermits hike about their caves all day long, they need to be about the business of singing.  Obviously, they don’t have cousin Coni to talk with.

Gratitude brings happiness

Some months ago, while car shopping, I posted on Facebook “ Red with a spoiler,…but will it make me happy?”  And my 24- year-old daughter responded, “Yes, yes it will.”  If you know my daughter and me, this exchange seems ludicrous, almost batty.  We both know that things don’t make you happy, that money doesn’t buy happiness. We are accustomed to live frugally.

I know some things that do bring happiness: a heart full of gratitude, time spent with those I love, the sweet feeling of success large or small.

Welcome home from your hike
Welcome home from your hike

Within a week of purchasing the vehicle, I was able to travel to Ft. Collins and visit my two younger children.  I had been desperate to see them for several months. I can take the car to work or into less accessible areas. When I return from a long hike and see my own *Red Pearl in the distance, it is like coming home.  My heart is filled with gratitude.

When I began car shopping, I knew just what I wanted; a dependable, fuel conscious Subaru Outback, preferably red, within the scope of my savings account.   The spoiler was unexpected lagniappe. So is the upgraded stereo system – literal music to my ears.

It is impossible to ever enjoy a feeling of success without having set goals – large or small. Reflection on goals met or sweet success brings contentment and confidence.  The confidence comes from being able to say, “I did what I said I was going to do.”

Andrea commences the rest of her life May 2012
Andrea commences the rest of her life May 2012

I got my children through school.  I finished my degree.  After much research, saving and shopping; I got the car I wanted. But these successes share some things in common. They all cost money, time, focus.

Money may not buy happiness, but it does augment the time I spend with those I love, the sweet feeling of success; and hey, money right when it is needed causes overwhelming gratitude.

This year, I’m going to do what I said I was going to do.  I’m going to write a book.  I’m going to live as though I have been given only 365 days to live.  That is going to take time and focus. Oh, and undoubtedly some money.

* Red Pearl – sorta like the Black Pearl, and captained by a woman.  The dealer certificate lists the color as regatta red pearl.

Who will share your 365 days?
Who will share your 365 days?

 

New Year, same lofty goals. 365 days to live.

This year, I want to know more who I am each day; to pursue heartily the person I am created to be, though it may take me a few degrees outside my angle of comfort.

Cherry Odelberg - I write about relationships Photo credit Kevin Decker 2010
Cherry Odelberg – I write about relationships Photo credit Kevin Decker 2010

Happy New Year!  I am only a few days late, so I’ll make it simple.  My goal this year is the same as last: To live as though I have been given 365 days to live. Why reinvent the wheel?  Some who have gone before have said it much better:

“The purpose of life, after all, is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experiences (Eleanor Roosevelt).”

“No Reserves. No Retreats. No Regrets (William Borden).”

Promptly with the new year, a new book crossed my path and was subsequently loaned me by a good friend.  20,000 Days and Counting (Robert D. Smith), is a slim manuscript, in which I found the words of William Borden quoted above.  From the author himself, I enjoyed these nuggets which apply directly to 365 days to live:

“Live each day as if it were your last – imminent death inspires clarity of purpose.”

“There is no thought that will purge your priorities of worthless and worldly tastes like that of your impending death.”

For me, there are still many places to go and people to see.  The year past was not one of travel and travel is on my bucket list.   I still want to see the wonders of all 50 States and some foreign places as well.  I want to talk deep and laugh with my children.

There were things I experienced this year that had not made it to my bucket list, yet made for richer life. I hiked most of the trails in Colorado National Monument; many in solitude, most in sunshine, and once in moonlight with my brother and sister-in-law. I plunged into the Colorado and Gunnison Rivers in a borrowed kayak with no reserves, no retreat, and certainly no regrets. I reclaimed my right to share my musical gift by singing in a quartet and tickling the ivories at retirement centers. My spirit has been too full of fear and reticence for over 50 years. May I remember, “I am always divinely guided…I will always take the right turn in the road…God will make a way where there is no way (Norman Vincent Peale).”

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Part 3: 365 or 366 or 370 days to live revisited: A recap of 2012

It’s all about relationships

Cherry with Andrea, Gunnison May 2012
Cherry with Andrea, Gunnison May 2012

In December of 2011, I glibly typed, “People who have only a year to live spend lots more time with family. They renew old friendships and polish up their relationships… I want to invest in life-long friendships and loving and tending of family.” So far, so good. I spent time with grandkids, my son, my DIL, my parents. It would have been nice to see my two younger children as often as I saw my two old friends.

All four generations
All four generations

Then I wrote,  “There is no time to waste on pursuing or flirting with new relationships.

And it wasn't even on my bucket list
And it wasn’t even on my bucket list

Someone should have asked me: Please explain how you can play gigs at retirement centers, present singing valentines with a quartet, provide private piano lessons and elementary tutoring, be employed as a cashier; without embarking on new relationships?

What I meant was; I will not go chasing men or searching for new best friends.

Actually, a couple friends did question me. They were aghast that I did not feel I needed a man in my life.  I knew better. I know that my singleness is the outcome of two failed marriages.  Ultimately, the culprit in both cases was probably my dependence on the affirmation of a man.

Colorado National Monument Visitor's Center
Colorado National Monument Visitor’s Center

But, what happened was; I found the perfect seasonal job where – gasp – I made new friends.  Now this should not have taken me by surprise. I have a degree in Organizational Management. Over and over in classes such as Praxis of Organizational Health and Growth, I heard: no matter what your field, nor how difficult the labor; it is the people you work with who make it a good job or a bad job.

My summer and autumn months were full of sunshine, enjoyable work, professional relationships, endearing students. And yes, each I had to hold loosely, to stay until it was time for me to go.  Mid-winter approaches. Enough of looking back.  Time to move courageously into the next 365 days. 

27 Dresses, chick flick with a message

musingIf you have ever been on the care-taker side of codependent; continuously putting the needs of others above your own, you need to see this movie.

The message of “27 Dresses” was one I sorely needed to hear. It was about loyalty and persevering in service to others-to a fault. It was about a journalist who intuitively pointed out the flaw of the caretaker and, deft as a counselor, kept his focus on the issue and the cure. It was about a best friend who admits her own moral compass does not always point due north, but still cares enough to hold Jane accountable.

In the movie “27 Dresses” Jane finally learns to speak up for herself. The things she says are truths that need to be spoken. But, she does it all wrong. Her friend Casey points out that she unleashed 20 years of hurt in a cruel way. Instead of just going straight to the person and speaking the truth, Jane waited until she was completely angry and then exposed her sister publicly. People suffered. Jane suffered.  Some important relationships were nearly lost.

I have been there before; both on the job and in the home.  It is a place where you perform a small intervention (as it was termed in communications class), but something goes wrong.  Either you do it horribly wrong or it is received in the worst possible way.  The result is a complete and absolute end of the relationship.  Talking has no result.  Apologies go unheeded. Reconciliation and restoration are out of the question.

Why is it so hard for a people pleaser – someone who really does care about others- to speak directly? How is it we think that covert hints are better than direct confrontation; clever exposures more valid than courageously speaking our own needs?  Is it wise to keep stuffing our own wants until we explode in overkill? As a result of covert, clever overkill; I have been accused of being mean and controlling for exposing the weaknesses and deceit of others, when I most want to be known as a loving and accommodating person.

27 Dresses” is also a story about second chances. It turned out alright. Jane was contrite about doing it wrong and she immediately acted on doing things right to the favor of her future.  Her sister took the chance to hear and be heard and it benefitted her future behavior as well. Both were better people for truth spoken and heeded.

Some things I covet from 27 Dresses:

1) friends who stick with you and hold you accountable until you do the right thing the right way; family who loves unconditionally,  and the chance to keep practicing until you get it right.

2) to be like Jane, tirelessly doing unto others what I would have them do for me.

3) to be so true to myself that it raises the bar of loving my neighbor as I love myself.

Pretty strong messages for a chick-flick, don’t you think?

You can have your Christmas any day you want it

Smile interestedThe trouble with being alone and poor at Christmas is; folks almost expect you to feel sorry for yourself. Not being accustomed to RSVP pity parties, I threw myself wholeheartedly into as many Christmas activities as I could find.  Just because I am single with a starved bank account is no reason to avoid Christmas.

Fortunately, I do have friends and extended family.  I made it a point to accept the invitations that came my way; the GJHS choir extravaganza and the Schumann Singers‘ Joy to the World.

DSCN4461gjhsdecFree is not to be overlooked.  The first Friday Spirit of Christmas in Downtown Grand Junction featured carolers of every type and age on every corner and free carriage rides.   Being wanted somewhere else to spend time with grandkids, I did not stand in line for the carriage.

DSCN4493carriageThough my sparkling new dance shoes were lost on Halloween, I still attended the Teddy Bear Ball at La Puerta dance studio.  Except for the fun of bringing a gift for the Salvation Army, that was a bit ineffective for conjuring up Christmas spirit.  No bear hugs. I don’t know how to tango. My favorite leads were too few to go around.

DSCN4499schumanBut then, only half way through the month, came December 15 and with it my Christmas spirit and the thought that whether December 25th arrived or not, I had enjoyed a successful Christmas.

I shall try to assume the proper accent for each account.

From your local community news reporter: A good time was had by all at the annual ladies luncheon at the home of Coni Wolfe (Mrs. Steven Wolfe) on Surface Creek near Cedaredge. For the two weeks preceding the luncheon, Mrs. Wolfe had busied herself about the kitchen preparing delectable treats including cranberry jalapeño cheese spread, pecan tarts and sugar cookies.  When the guests arrived, a choice of hearty and tasty soups simmered on the stove, along with apple cider.  Several of the guests carried with them a bag of some sort.  Items in the bag turned out to be borrowed books returned or exchanged for additional literary reading. Women in attendance included retired and non-retired teachers from Palisade and Grand Junction High Schools along with a few old friends and new business acquaintances of Coni Wolfe.  Many of the ladies were heard to remark how nice it was to see each other again.

An Idol Nutcracker critic: “I expected a lot from you when I saw your name on the program.  A lot. You’re not just any old high school boy.  You have a history of dance and trophies won in competitions throughout the region.  But, frankly, your lifts looked a little weak and unsure.  I was surprised, you being a BMX rider and all that.  You had that spotlight stolen from you, stolen by veteran professionals from New York City.   But, we’re still expecting great things from you a few years down the line.”

Yes, Saturday December 15, I enjoyed two big scoops of Christmas.  My cousin was her  generous, hospitable self. I had a kind and interesting travel partner for the trip to Cedaredge.  The Grand Junction Symphony Orchestra members played to their potential in the orchestra pit and the professional dancing and acting on  stage was enough to take your breath away. CMU students AJ Labrum and Sofia Robinson were especially memorable in roles dancing as Arabian Coffee and Dew Drop Fairy.

May all your Christmases be WONDERFUL!  This one is turning out to be white.

DSCN4552yuccasnow

Would you like your closure before or after death?

ProbingI have heard psychologists recommend it as important to get closure before the death of  a significant other; to confront the father who abandoned, the mother who neglected or the parent who exacted too violent a punishment, however just. I know healthy adults who had these conversations with aging parents with happy result. Sin was acknowledged, forgiveness was offered and accepted – sometimes even begged.

When death comes unexpectedly soon and we are left with question after question and no closure; what then?

Many years ago, when I was a fresh divorcée; raw from every attempt to keep a husband who wanted freedom, I heard a panel of young widows on Focus on the Family. They were discussing with Dr. Dobson the pain of their loss.  One said the most painful time was when she saw a man checking out at the store.  From behind, he looked like her husband.  She resisted the urge to run throw her arms about him and was devastated when he turned and the illusion was broken.

I knew something of that experience, and longed to give my response. Though the finality of divorce is a bit stickier than the finality of death; in a small town, the chances of actually meeting my estranged husband at the store were real. So too, the possibility of seeing him with another woman. Restraint was essential, denial useless.

Over time, I came to see that denial might have been faced with healthy result much earlier in the relationship. I endeavored to write a novel about it-to help others with my experience. That book and two others remain works in progress.

TTTD Ebook promoEnter psychologist turned author Bonnie Grove whose book “Talking to the Dead,” deals with similar issues of love and loss, appeasement and denial – and closure.  Only this is closure with the already dead.

What do you think?  What would you want? Is it better to unmask denial or betrayal and find closure with the living; or to discover, after death, those things you never wanted to know?

 

We agree on apocalypse

Cherry Odelberg, Photo Kevin Decker 2010, legwarmers Andrea Shellabarger, necklace Kelly Hayzlett

God bless the founding fathers and Abraham Lincoln for setting Thanksgiving AFTER general elections so that families can gather and be thankful for each other with some semblance of peace. I doubt the members of my immediate family would have stayed more than 10 minutes at the same table or under the same roof had there still been opportunity to alter the vote through information, debate or influence.

As it was, we shared a great meal with conversation dominated by stories of personal success or dreams.  Afterwards, we made music together with piano, organ, guitar and vibraharp. Mostly, the men listened and allowed my mother, my sister-in-law and me to dawdle about at the instruments and fumble with Christmas Carols.

For those of you unfamiliar with my family of origin, let me quickly clue you that my only sibling (a brother) is a cerebral, Phd toting geneticist who has done extensive stem cell research.  My parents are conservative, fundamental, salt of the earth representatives of the greatest generation; champions of the idea that the final answer may be obtained through keeping a simple list of ten or 12 things. These things were clearly interpreted in, say, 1940 or 50 and should always remain how they used to be. I forever and always have been and will be caught in the middle; moderate, compromising; trying to please everyone and thereby pleasing no one;  alternately shamed and scorned by both sides.

Friday evening found my brother, my sister-in-law and me at the movies – Lincoln, to be specific. During the after movie hot chocolate and discussion, my brother mentioned that there were two more movies he wants to see this season:  Chasing Ice (this is not a hockey movie, in case you were misled by the title) and Bidder #70 (I myself want to see Les Miserables but the topic at hand seemed to be global warming and the Bush administration not the effects of the French Revolution).

My brother is convinced that global warming is progressing at such a rate as to soon bring about a cataclysmic event. The astonishing thing is that everyone agrees on apocalypse.   The liberals believe it is coming as a result of global warming.  The biblical conservatives believe it through prophecy.  Writers proclaim it through speculative  fiction.  The younger generation lives breathes and thinks post apocalyptic. Over the decades, the Huxleys, Jenkinses and Collinses among us have written tomes on the theme.

Is that not a miracle?  We all agree on something:  Apocalypse is coming. Problem is, we disagree on how to approach it.

I voiced this thought to my daughter on the phone – she the Y generation Christian Anthropologist, rock and rage drummer through the week, sometimes youth and worship speaker and musician on the Sabbath.

Me:  Isn’t it strange how the liberals and Christians agree that apocalypse is coming?  The liberals are trying to stop it by curtailing global warming. The Christians are making every effort to stave it off by repentance and moral house cleaning.

She:  meanwhile the Jews are scurrying around rebuilding the temple…

Is there any question apocalypse is coming? Is the question merely; how?  or when?  Or is the issue “woe to him or her by whom it comes?”

Happy Thanksgiving Memories

Thanksgiving with Andrea and Philip, by Andrea 2012

Thanksgiving.  It’s hard holiday to beat for generosity and the mix of food, family, and fellowship.

There are some wise folks who choose Thanksgiving as their favorite holiday; and why not? An attitude of gratitude boosts everything about life to a higher level, positive and productive.

Oh, I know; particularly if you are a woman, you have spent the last week baking, planning, running to the grocery store – but, isn’t it wonderful to feel the wind in your face, to rise to the occasion – even to be thankful that you do not have to cook like this every day of the year?

As a child, I stood by and tried to help with the Thanksgiving Eve grinding of cranberries and stuffing of the turkey as promising aromas filled the kitchen. I learned how it must be done, by watching.  As a too young bride exiled to Germany, I was determined to keep up the tradition, though I bloodied my knuckled trying to grind cranberries on a cheese grater and had to remove all the racks in the apartment size oven just to roast a pint sized turkey in a two quart lasagna dish.

Later, I stood at a kitchen sink in Texas, flanked by my two younger children as we gathered and mixed all the necessary side dishes for meals shared with friends.  I not only enjoyed those years, I lived to write about them.

Over the years, we have feasted on small turkeys, large turkeys, smoked turkeys, bonus turkeys, food basket turkeys; turkeys roasted in a conventional oven, wood stove oven, motel oven, and even in a cast iron dutch oven over a campfire.

Last year Andrea was with me for Thanksgiving break.  Together we knocked out the pumpkin pies and then toted them to Grandma’s house and Kevin’s house for the feast.

For the past few years, I have been the spare tire, the single who brings a side-dish and  is welcome at the table anyway. My house is small and my work schedule changeable, so I greatly appreciate the hospitality. I will never forget the Thanksgiving in 2010 when I worked the register at Safeway until late afternoon. Throwing on my coat and rushing out the door to catch the bus, I was hailed in the parking lot by my cousin who tucked me into the jeep with his mother and took me home for a feast.

This year, the Thanksgiving spirit has been pervasive.  Facebook is littered daily with the confetti of thankfulness. Shoppers and store clerks alike seem to have entered into the spirit of the season.  Yesterday the bank teller transacted my deposit with a look of happy anticipation, “Are you cooking?”  she asked.  “Not this year.  Going home to Mama’s, “  I replied.  “And you?” “Yes, for twelve people,” she confided with delight. “I’ve got it all planned.  Happy Thanksgiving!”

Blessings on your day.  I’ve gotta run. I am expected across town with my sweet potato casserole.