Not To Worry

Why is it that I think that worrying about something will affect the circumstances of the thing I'm  worrying about?

 

It's as though the more I worry about it, the more I think I can push the situation to go the way I want.

My siblings and I talk a lot about worrying and why we worry.  Like A LOT.  As in a couple of times a week.

It's a good thing I come from a family of six children so we can rotate our calls to each other and no one ends up being burnt out from the constant chatter of one person over and over.  What do we worry about?  Besides our children, most of whom are now young adults and tell us not to worry about them, we worry about our wonderful parents who are in their eighties.  We all live within a hour or two of where my parents live and only out of love do we wonder if they need more of our help.

To say that my parents are independent and free spirited is an understatement but that is also what makes them so charming and so resistant to our offers of help.  I'm sure your family is much the same as ours where aging and illness are issues that are now at the top of the worry list.  It's a bit of a  juggling act trying to know when to offer assistance and when to leave it alone and let it work itself out.

Lots of people say that worry is a waste and I suppose that's true but it doesn't feel that way when you are actively worrying about people you care about.

Worry Beads

Usually worry starts with my thoughts and then as I start thinking about a situation, I unfortunately let myself get ahead to something that hasn't happened yet and maybe it won't ever happen but I still think to myself "What if that happens?"  Do you do this too?  Or am I in a class by myself?

When my thought process starts going round and round, stuck on a thought, I find I have to apply the mental brakes on myself and distract myself with some other activity.  If I don't stop thinking about the "what if's", then the worrying will affect my mood; as in getting a very intense headache.

At that moment I realize the negative effects of worrying: all that thinking, all that concern, all that energy focused on a certain situation, doesn't change whether it will happen.  Not one little bit.  In the meantime, I've made myself a an awful wreck.  Not. good. at. all.

Just as the repetition of handling the beads on a string of worry beads can be calming and healing so does saying positive affirmations to yourself.  Affirmations can help guide you to inner peace.  Sometimes I say; "Worry is a waste." "Worry is a waste." and other times I repeat "Resist worry. Resist Fear."  or "I am safe."

Most of the time my affirmations go a long way to making me feel better about whatever is going on and when they don't I know I can always grab my trusty phone and know that an understanding sibling is just a call away!

Compassionate Care

I write about the subject of hospice care today because November is National Hospice Care month.  I don't usually pay attention to the themes of specific months but in this case I saw a tweet about it and wanted to draw attention to the incredible people who do this important work.

I have the greatest respect for the people who do hospice work.  The time and endless amounts of energy poured into this work of providing compassionate care to those diagnosed as terminally ill is critical to the patient and the families trying to do their best as a loved one reaches the end of their life. 

Each year in the United States, more than 1.58 million people with a life-limiting illness receives care from hospice care givers, according to a report by the National Hospice & Palliative Care Organization.  Most hospice care is given at home, allowing people to be surrounded by their friends and family in the last stages of their life.

 

I was told by my husband's doctors that the best time to learn about hospice care is before you need it.  No one really knows when and if that time will come but it is wise to prepare.  As hard as it is to think about the possibility of using hospice services, hospice care organizations have decades of experience and are invaluable to family members who need a break from the physically and emotionally exhausting work of trying to do all of the caregiving by themselves.

My husband did not need hospice at the end of his life but just in case it became necessary to have hospice come to the house to help me, I met with a one of their nurses.  She was very calm and reassuring about what happens when hospice becomes involved with your loved one.  She emphasized to me that hospice care is not about giving up; it is more of a focus on comfort and care and respect.  It gave me strength to know that hospice would be there should I ever need it.

 

For myself, I find it hard to imagine doing this work if you don't know the person who is ill.  Taking care of someone when you don't know them and know that they aren't going to get better requires an immeasurable amount of faith, inner peace and compassion.  This is only a few of the reasons why the people who do hospice care are so special.  They embrace the patient and their family and are honored to take care of your loved one and to try to enhance the quality of their life in the time they have remaining.

 

Ladies Home Journal recently ran an inspiring story called,  "It Doesn't Have To Be Sad: The Life of A Hospice Nurse."  It is a revealing story from a nurse's perspective about being with terminally ill patients and what it feels like to help dying patients through their final days.  Here is the link:

 

http://www.lhj.com/community/your-stories/hospice-nurse/?page=1
 

Gabby & Mark

I have written about Gabby Giffords in previous posts because she is a source of inspiration to me. 

 

She is the very definition of courage and resilience and lives her life with a great deal of passion.  Despite being shot in the head over two years ago, she continues to move forward and remain in public life because she wants to make the world a safer place.

Gun control is Gabby's top priority and today's post focuses on just part of the dialogue surrounding this issue.

Gabby Giffords & Mark Kelly

With her husband, retired astronaut Mark Kelly, Gabby has been working non-stop appealing to the Senate and the public at large to support expanded background checks for guns.  Gabby and Mark make a formidable team.

You might not know that both Gabby and Mark are gun owners and they take the position that background checks are a responsible common sense measure to reduce gun violence.

Even though 90% of the American public supports expanded background checks for guns, the Senate Wednesday decided to vote the measure down.  But this is only the beginning of a grassroots movement to change current gun control laws in this country.

Frustrated but not defeated, Gabby wrote the following fiery and compelling op-ed in The New York Times.  Please read it and think about how it relates to your views on gun control.

A Senate in the Gun Lobby's Grip

By Gabrielle Giffords
April 17, 2013/ New York Times

WASHINGTON

SENATORS say they fear the N.R.A. and the gun lobby. But I think that fear must be nothing compared to the fear the first graders in Sandy Hook Elementary School felt as their lives ended in a hail of bullets. The fear that those children who survived the massacre must feel every time they remember their teachers stacking them into closets and bathrooms, whispering that they loved them, so that love would be the last thing the students heard if the gunman found them.

On Wednesday, a minority of senators gave into fear and blocked common-sense legislation that would have made it harder for criminals and people with dangerous mental illnesses to get hold of deadly firearms — a bill that could prevent future tragedies like those in Newtown, Conn., Aurora, Colo., Blacksburg, Va., and too many communities to count.

Some of the senators who voted against the background-check amendments have met with grieving parents whose children were murdered at Sandy Hook, in Newtown. Some of the senators who voted no have also looked into my eyes as I talked about my experience being shot in the head at point-blank range in suburban Tucson two years ago, and expressed sympathy for the 18 other people shot besides me, 6 of whom died. These senators have heard from their constituents — who polls show overwhelmingly favored expanding background checks. And still these senators decided to do nothing. Shame on them.

I watch TV and read the papers like everyone else. We know what we’re going to hear: vague platitudes like “tough vote” and “complicated issue.” I was elected six times to represent southern Arizona, in the State Legislature and then in Congress. I know what a complicated issue is; I know what it feels like to take a tough vote. This was neither. These senators made their decision based on political fear and on cold calculations about the money of special interests like the National Rifle Association, which in the last election cycle spent around $25 million on contributions, lobbying and outside spending.

Speaking is physically difficult for me. But my feelings are clear: I’m furious. I will not rest until we have righted the wrong these senators have done, and until we have changed our laws so we can look parents in the face and say: We are trying to keep your children safe. We cannot allow the status quo — desperately protected by the gun lobby so that they can make more money by spreading fear and misinformation — to go on.

I am asking every reasonable American to help me tell the truth about the cowardice these senators demonstrated. I am asking for mothers to stop these lawmakers at the grocery store and tell them: You’ve lost my vote. I am asking activists to unsubscribe from these senators’ e-mail lists and to stop giving them money. I’m asking citizens to go to their offices and say: You’ve disappointed me, and there will be consequences.

People have told me that I’m courageous, but I have seen greater courage. Gabe Zimmerman, my friend and staff member in whose honor we dedicated a room in the United States Capitol this week, saw me shot in the head and saw the shooter turn his gunfire on others. Gabe ran toward me as I lay bleeding. Toward gunfire. And then the gunman shot him, and then Gabe died. His body lay on the pavement in front of the Safeway for hours.

I have thought a lot about why Gabe ran toward me when he could have run away. Service was part of his life, but it was also his job. The senators who voted against background checks for online and gun-show sales, and those who voted against checks to screen out would-be gun buyers with mental illness, failed to do their job.

They looked at these most benign and practical of solutions, offered by moderates from each party, and then they looked over their shoulder at the powerful, shadowy gun lobby — and brought shame on themselves and our government itself by choosing to do nothing.

They will try to hide their decision behind grand talk, behind willfully false accounts of what the bill might have done — trust me, I know how politicians talk when they want to distract you — but their decision was based on a misplaced sense of self-interest. I say misplaced, because to preserve their dignity and their legacy, they should have heeded the voices of their constituents. They should have honored the legacy of the thousands of victims of gun violence and their families, who have begged for action, not because it would bring their loved ones back, but so that others might be spared their agony.

This defeat is only the latest chapter of what I’ve always known would be a long, hard haul. Our democracy’s history is littered with names we neither remember nor celebrate — people who stood in the way of progress while protecting the powerful. On Wednesday, a number of senators voted to join that list.

Mark my words: if we cannot make our communities safer with the Congress we have now, we will use every means available to make sure we have a different Congress, one that puts communities’ interests ahead of the gun lobby’s. To do nothing while others are in danger is not the American way.

Gabrielle Giffords, a Democratic representative from Arizona from 2007 to 2012, is a founder of Americans for Responsible Solutions, which focuses on gun violence.

Widows Fighting For Their Homes

Protect Your Property

 

Every woman needs to read this New York Times story (see link below).

 

Whether you are 18 or 81-years-old, single, married or widowed, every woman needs to know the financial facts about owning her own home.  Don't think that someone is going to go out of their way to explain it to you.  Find out about home ownership for yourself in order to protect yourself and the biggest investment of your life -- your home.

 

When my husband died, both of our names were on the mortgage.  I was lucky but I could easily have been one of these women in the New York Times story.  My husband had been ill and in and out of hospitals for about two and a half years before he died.  I remember a particularly poignant memory when my husband ended up in the emergency room and the doctors thought he was going to die that day.  One of the doctors asked me in a tone I will never forget if I had power of attorney.  I didn't.  I had never thought about it.

 

Really.

But I quickly got a lawyer to give it to me.

 

It was from that day forward that I saw I needed to be proactive about our property and finances.  I was working full-time and made sure from that time forward that I could pay the mortgage.  I felt very alone in that time and particularly vulnerable because I felt the financial weight as well as the responsibility for my husband and young son.

I knew I could pay the mortgage but that also was a lot of stress to handle.  Sadly, I know a few women who had to sell their houses after their husbands' deaths and it is not a pretty process.

 

It's already hard enough when you have to deal with the emotional minefield of grieving but to then find yourself in the throes of fighting to keep a roof over your head is just incomprehensible.  I remember the surreal and out-of-body feeling of planning my husband's funeral, trying to take care of our child and having no enthusiasm or energy to do any of it.  I can't imagine to then be expected to put all that turmoil aside and then focus on proving that the house I have been living in is legally mine.

 

I'm not sure why two people would buy a house and list only one person's name on the morgage but apparently this happens all the time and now we are finding out that the so-called gap in paperwork is creating a crisis for widowed women who are in their fifties and older.

 

If you have a mortgage, please make sure you are listed on it with your husband or partner.  Unfortunately, mortgage companies take a "business is business" attitude and don't let feelings of compassion or sympathy enter into their decisions about home foreclosures.

 

Here is the compelling New York Times story:

 

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/12/02/business/widows-pushed-into-foreclosure-by-mortgage-fine-print.html?nl=todaysheadlines&emc=edit_th_20121202&_r=0

Angels & Faith

Faith is usually defined as having a confident belief in the truth of a person, idea or thing.  Faith is also defined as having a secure belief in God and a trusting acceptance of God's will. 

Hmmmm....trusting acceptance.  For me that is always the part of faith that I am constantly working on.  I have been thinking a lot about faith these days and it's role in my life.  I don't know what the future will bring, but of course  I always hope and pray that it's going to be something good.

And if it's not something good, then I hope and pray that I will have the faith and strength to deal with it.

I have found that my faith has changed as my life has unfolded.  When my son was born, my faith in the future and in the world as a whole was off the charts.  He was a beautiful baby and everything about him worked as it should and my husband and I truly felt blessed as parents.

When my husband died,  I felt as though I was being severely tested and punished.  I couldn't see beyond the next 10 minutes and I had no idea what would happen the next day.  I wasn't even sure that that I wanted the next day to arrive.  I had no energy to build or plan a future.  It was all about surviving.

It was during this time that I re-acquainted myself with angels.  From childhood, I have always believed in the existence of angels and their power to inspire and protect us.  Maybe it has something to do with the Catholic notion of everyone having a guardian angel that God gives to you when you are born and your guardian angel watches over you until you die.

There have been times in my life when my guardian angel has worked overtime and I have definitely felt as though she has yanked me out of some dicey situations.  It's too bad she hasn't had the ability to sometimes put masking tape over my mouth because that would have been equally as helpful!  I am not alone in my faith about angels.  I asked a guy that I work with about angels and he quickly replied that he knows for sure that he has a couple of guardian angels dedicated to watching over him!

Joking aside, I do believe that God has a plan for all of us and that angels watch over us and do their best to keep us on the straight and narrow.

Have you ever felt the presence of an angel in your life?

Keegan -- The Opposite of Loneliness

Marina Keegan

Marina Keegan had something to say and she said it extremely well as a writer for the Yale Daily News.

Before graduating from Yale this month, Marina wrote the below column to her classmates, reflecting on her positive college experience, her sense of life's possibilities and the nervousness of going out into the real world and following her dream of being a writer.

As the mother of a recent college graduate, I recognize what she was feeling when she wrote this beautiful column and have heard some of the same thoughts from my son.  Tragically, Keegan's prescient words have become more poignant since the news broke that Keegan died a few days after her May 21st graduation in a car crash on her way to a vacation house on Cape Cod.

Keegan definitely had something to say and her wisdom speaks to all of us:

The Opposite of Loneliness

By Marina Keegan

We don’t have a word for the opposite of loneliness, but if we did, I could say that’s what I want in life. What I’m grateful and thankful to have found at Yale, and what I’m scared of losing when we wake up tomorrow and leave this place.

It’s not quite love and it’s not quite community; it’s just this feeling that there are people, an abundance of people, who are in this together. Who are on your team. When the check is paid and you stay at the table. When it’s four a.m. and no one goes to bed. That night with the guitar. That night we can’t remember. That time we did, we went, we saw, we laughed, we felt. The hats.

Yale is full of tiny circles we pull around ourselves. A cappella groups, sports teams, houses, societies, clubs. These tiny groups that make us feel loved and safe and part of something even on our loneliest nights when we stumble home to our computers — partner-less, tired, awake. We won’t have those next year. We won’t live on the same block as all our friends. We won’t have a bunch of group-texts.

This scares me. More than finding the right job or city or spouse – I’m scared of losing this web we’re in. This elusive, indefinable, opposite of loneliness. This feeling I feel right now.

But let us get one thing straight: the best years of our lives are not behind us. They’re part of us and they are set for repetition as we grow up and move to New York and away from New York and wish we did or didn’t live in New York. I plan on having parties when I’m 30. I plan on having fun when I’m old. Any notion of THE BEST years comes from clichéd “should haves...” “if I’d...” “wish I’d...”

Of course, there are things we wished we did: our readings, that boy across the hall. We’re our own hardest critics and it’s easy to let ourselves down. Sleeping too late. Procrastinating. Cutting corners. More than once I’ve looked back on my High School self and thought: how did I do that? How did I work so hard? Our private insecurities follow us and will always follow us.

But the thing is, we’re all like that. Nobody wakes up when they want to. Nobody did all of their reading (except maybe the crazy people who win the prizes…) We have these impossibly high standards and we’ll probably never live up to our perfect fantasies of our future selves. But I feel like that’s okay.

We’re so young. We’re so young. We’re twenty-two years old. We have so much time. There’s this sentiment I sometimes sense, creeping in our collective conscious as we lay alone after a party, or pack up our books when we give in and go out – that it is somehow too late. That others are somehow ahead. More accomplished, more specialized. More on the path to somehow saving the world, somehow creating or inventing or improving. That it’s too late now to BEGIN a beginning and we must settle for continuance, for commencement.

When we came to Yale, there was this sense of possibility. This immense and indefinable potential energy – and it’s easy to feel like that’s slipped away. We never had to choose and suddenly we’ve had to. Some of us have focused ourselves. Some of us know exactly what we want and are on the path to get it; already going to med school, working at the perfect NGO, doing research. To you I say both congratulations and you suck.

For most of us, however, we’re somewhat lost in this sea of liberal arts. Not quite sure what road we’re on and whether we should have taken it. If only I had majored in biology…if only I’d gotten involved in journalism as a freshman…if only I’d thought to apply for this or for that…

What we have to remember is that we can still do anything. We can change our minds. We can start over. Get a post-bac or try writing for the first time. The notion that it’s too late to do anything is comical. It’s hilarious. We’re graduating college. We’re so young. We can’t, we MUST not lose this sense of possibility because in the end, it’s all we have.

In the heart of a winter Friday night my freshman year, I was dazed and confused when I got a call from my friends to meet them at EST EST EST. Dazedly and confusedly, I began trudging to SSS, probably the point on campus farthest away. Remarkably, it wasn’t until I arrived at the door that I questioned how and why exactly my friends were partying in Yale’s administrative building. Of course, they weren’t. But it was cold and my ID somehow worked so I went inside SSS to pull out my phone. It was quiet, the old wood creaking and the snow barely visible outside the stained glass. And I sat down. And I looked up. At this giant room I was in. At this place where thousands of people had sat before me. And alone, at night, in the middle of a New Haven storm, I felt so remarkably, unbelievably safe.

We don’t have a word for the opposite of loneliness, but if we did, I’d say that’s how I feel at Yale. How I feel right now. Here. With all of you. In love, impressed, humbled, scared. And we don’t have to lose that.

We’re in this together, 2012. Let’s make something happen to this world.