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St. Jude Marathon and Alzheimer’s? A strange title, I know. But there is a connection, albeit not obvious at first.

I have registered to run/walk (it will be more walk than run, I assure you) the December half-marathon in Memphis. I am not doing this to force myself to exercise more. I already walk regularly, use light weights, etc. I am participating in the half-marathon because I want to support my favorite charity and have the experience of the marathon atmosphere (I have heard that I will experience a myriad of emotions).

But what does this marathon have to do with Alzheimer’s? Exercise.

 The Today Show this morning had a feature on the prevention of Alzheimer’s. The research shows that many cases of Alzheimer’s may be prevented by lifestyle changes that take place at any age but especially in the twenties and thirties. According to the report, Alzheimer’s kills more people than breast cancer or prostate cancer.

I didn’t know that. For many, there is a genetic connection, but even for those with a genetic connection, maybe these steps will help delay or prevent completely the onset of the disease.

The steps:

1.  At least three hours of RIGOROUS exercise a week. Two-thirds should be cardio, one-third weight-training, depending on body type. Health experts have recommended thirty minutes of exercise at least five times a week for years, but this moves it up a notch or two. The cardio recommended is not a thirty-minute walk. Rigorous is walking or running or dancing or anything that gets your heart rate elevated.
2. Get at least 7 1/2 hours of QUALITY sleep each night. Not interrupted sleep (which I tend to have). We stay up too late and get up too early. The researchers recommend being sure you sleep in a darkened room, not one with the television running or other electronic lights interfering.
3. Eat lots of vegetables and fruits. The anti-oxidants help prevent the disease. Avoid unhealthy fats. Use olive oil instead of margarine or butter. Avoid processed foods. Don’t eat meats high in fat content like red meat.
4. Your job may contribute to Alzheimer’s. Work stress is a contributor. If your job causes you a great deal of stress, you might want to consider changing jobs or seeking other ways to relieve your stress.

How do these steps help prevent Alzheimer’s? They lower blood pressure, cholesterol, and blood sugar, all of which can contribute to the disease. Some people will have the disease in spite of their best efforts, but I think these things are worth considering.

We have so much information about how exercise, eating right, and other healthy lifestyle choices will improve health, give us better quality of life, and reduce health care costs, yet so many ignore the information. Millenials, you have this information now. My generation didn’t hear as much about it (although my generation can follow these principles), but you have no excuse for not making healthy choices now.

You may think old age is a long time away, but I guarantee you will be turning sixty before you know it. Time flies. Make your life now and your life then the best it can be.

The patients at St. Jude did nothing to cause their diseases. Too many of us, though, have health issues because of poor lifestyle choices. Shame on us.

Resolve today to make your life a healthier one. And while you’re at it, do what you can to help the efforts at St. Jude. I make no apologies for it being my charity of choice since 2004. Those kids and their families need our support. Do the 5K there or the half-marathon or the full marathon. Donate to someone who is participating (you can find the link on my Facebook page for my fund raising efforts). Become a Partner in Hope by making monthly donations.

I realize we are going to have health issues in spite of our best efforts, but if there are things we can do now to make our own lives better and improve the quality of life for our loved ones, shouldn’t we do so?

I guarantee if you told a patient of St. Jude that all he had to do was exercise, eat better, and get more sleep to be cured, he’d do it, no questions asked. We can all do better with our lifestyle choices, so let me encourage you, along with encouraging myself, to do better.

Preventing Alzheimer’s, Type 2 diabetes, heart disease, and more—great perks to some lifestyle changes. Join me on Dec. 1 in Memphis for an experience I am sure we will never forget.

Make 2018 your healthiest year yet.

 

 

 

I lost a special friend today. Not that we were super close. We didn’t talk on a regular basis. We didn’t go out for lunch. We didn’t even text each other — much.

But Sandra Robbins was, and is, special to me. We both worked in education together, but our paths seldom crossed. We knew each other in the way that most small-town people know each other, and I was privileged to teach her granddaughter and niece. Her cousin-in-law is one of my closest friends.

It took me a while to call her “Sandra.” She was born 16 years earlier than I was, and her oldest is just a few years younger than I am. She had been my youngest son’s principal. So I called her “Mrs. Robbins,” then “Mrs. Sandra” (that’s what we do in the south as a sign of respect to someone we want to show familiarity to but not too much familiarity), and finally “Sandra.”

Our relationship as it is now began about five years ago, when I learned that she was quickly becoming a successful writer of Christian fiction. I was at an administrators’ conference in Nashville, and while sitting alone in my hotel room one evening, I called her to ask what I could do to become a writer. She was eating dinner at the time and told me she’d call back. Which she did very soon after.

That began a writers’ relationship. She invited me to attend a Ken-Ten Writers meeting with her, a group that meets once a month in Mayfield. I became a regular member, and she and I took turns driving to the meetings. Our group expanded and became closer. We had Christmas luncheons. We got to know each other as individuals, not just writers.

Sandra read my first book prior to publication and gave me constructive criticism and encouragement. She read my Aimee book prior to publication and did the same. In recent months, she has been pushing me to write for the Love Inspired Suspense line, with which she has enjoyed tremendous success. It’s not exactly my genre, so I haven’t taken her suggestion to heart.

I’m not the only one she mentored. She presented at writers’ conferences, including one sponsored by our group. She was a judge in numerous writing contests. She critiqued books written by her friends — for free. She did all of this because she wanted to help others achieve their dream of becoming a successful writer, just as she did. She gave of herself, just as she had done in education for so many years.

Her health deteriorated rapidly in recent months, and this morning she gave up the fight. I will miss her in so many ways. Her gracious manner. Her wisdom. Her advice. Her encouragement. And, yes, her friendship.

May God comfort her family in this time of loss and may they know that Sandra was an angel on earth to many. I know she was to me. And you know what — I’m finally going to write that book for Love Inspired. It may or may not be accepted for publication, but it’s the least I can do.

And my dedication? For Sandra.

 

 

 

 

 

via Daily Prompt: Almost

Almost. A powerful word. A life-changing word, whether for good or bad. An overlooked word.

He almost died. Good result. She almost made it to the finish line. Kudos for effort, but a bad result. The drunk driver almost hit a pedestrian. Good result.

But perhaps the most significant connotation of the word is when choices are made—or not made—due to “almost.”

Why do we do that? Why do we almost apply for that job? Why do we almost connect with that attractive someone? Why do we almost send that song, book, script to an agent or publisher? Why do we almost accept a job transfer to another city, state, or even country?

No doubt there are a myriad of factors that affect our decisions, but maybe the most prominent is our fear. Fear of failure. Fear of the unknown. Fear of rejection. Fear of getting out of our comfort zone.

Making life-changing choices is not easy and should never be viewed that way. Sometimes the results of our decisions are worse than we expected, and we regret making them. Sometimes they’re better.

Perhaps a good resolution for 2018 is not to allow fear to prompt the “almost” in our lives. At my church, we sing a song Almost Persuaded. Part of the lyrics read “almost cannot avail, almost is but to fail.” The implication of the song is fear of acceptance leads to lost salvation, but the idea is applicable to the secular as well.

“Almost is but to fail.” Maybe, maybe not. But we shouldn’t let fear be the reason for the “almost” in our lives.

 

 

 

Okay, crazy title, I know. But I will explain.

I have received many wonderful gifts over the years, and for those of us who are older, we know it’s not the cost of the present, but the heart of the giver behind it. When I was a kid, though, it was all about the present. I was one of those kids who pretty much was excited and appreciative of anything I received, but now that I’m older, I look back and laugh a bit.

You see, my parents were all about giving me what they thought I needed or should have instead of what I wanted, at least some of the time. For instance, I wanted a Barbie house. When I opened it on Christmas morning and they saw it was made of heavy-duty cardboard instead of plastic (I’m sure they bought it because it was cheaper), they took it back. I don’t know what it was replaced with, but I was nine years old, and they convinced me I didn’t want it. (When I was seven, I received my one and only bicycle I ever had plus a bride doll plus a Midge doll–Barbie’s friend–a banner year for Christmas!). When I was ten, I received a desk and chair that I had never asked for, but somehow they convinced me it was a present I wanted and needed. (I asked for walkie-talkies that year, did not get them. I did get a plastic model horse to go with the desk. By the way, the desk was placed in the living room, not my bedroom.)

When I graduated from high school, I was given a sewing machine because Mom thought I needed one. Not that I sewed much, although I eventually did. But I never thought of asking for one. Or of receiving one. You get the idea.

As an adult, my husband and children (and new daughter-in-law) have given me wonderful gifts, from the homemade to the costly to the cheesy (they have indulged me in my Elvis fan-ship, bless their hearts).

This year, however, I am super-excited about something I’ve wanted for years. I’ve been into the family genealogy stuff, and I want to know more about my ancestors — who they were, where they lived, where they came from. Knowing about them lets me know more about me. I’ve always been told we had Native American blood coursing through our veins, but I’m not convinced. I know I’ve got ancestors from France (on my dad’s maternal side). But what else makes up my DNA? Who am I?

My sons gave me the kit. I’ve sent it off, and now I wait. I wait to find out if what I have been told is true, or if the person I thought I was is actually someone else.

I’m like a kid at Christmas, all over again. Our family Christmas celebration is over, but the actual present has not yet arrived. I can’t wait.

 

I started to blog about how we should be careful about judging. About considering two sides to every story. About being considerate of others’ needs and circumstances. About how people need to work together to overcome the ills of society.

Ills like illegal immigration. A hot topic in my former state of Arizona. Ills like homelessness. A hot topic in Memphis, where my son and his wife live. Ills like an every-increasing laziness factor in young people that veteran teachers like me have witnessed over the years. A hot topic among teachers. Ills like the racial tension that still exists despite great strides in civil rights. Ills like the political turmoil in Washington that continues to divide our country. Both hot topics nationwide, as evidenced by the news and frequent Facebook posts.

The truth is, I don’t have a solution to any of those problems. I have my opinions, for what they’re worth. All I know is that I’m not an illegal immigrant seeking a better life for me and my family. I’m not a homeless drug addict/alcoholic in Memphis. I’m not a teenager dealing with a crazy world. I’m not a member of a minority, and I am not a politician.

I get it. Right is right, and wrong is wrong. But maybe our attitudes need to adjust. The hate permeating our society is rampant. We need to have an attitude of “let’s work together.” Consider the other side. If it’s wrong, it’s wrong, but keep hate out of it. In Christian circles, we often say “hate the sin, love the sinner.” I’m afraid Christians, as much as non-Christians, are guilty of hating the sinner as well.

It’s a joke among my friends about my loving Elvis. I was out of step with my own peers when I became an Elvis fan. I was seven years old when our family went to see an Elvis movie. It was “Girls, Girls, Girls.” My grandmother was shocked, scandalized. But I loved that movie. Why? He sang to two little Hawaiian girls, and I was impressed by that. Wow, that nice, good-looking man was being nice to kids! Then my 16-year-old brother got the album soundtrack. I played it on his record player over and over until I knew every song by heart. The love of his music never left me. I never thought of him as the boyfriend I would like to have. He was old enough to be my father, and remember, I was a kid, still playing with my Chatty Baby. But I loved his cheesy movies, his songs, and his rags-to-riches story. To this day, when I am going through a bad time, I will listen to an Elvis song or watch one of his movies, and I am in a happy place. Crazy, I know.

Having explained all that about Elvis, I wanted to share a video that expresses the idea I am putting forth today. When I first heart Elvis sing this, it made an impression on me that has never left. How I wish we’d be kinder to each other. How we’d try to work through our differences in a communicative way instead of attacking each other. How we could discuss, in a rational way, how problems could be solved instead of offending the majority of Americans by not standing for the flag, the emblem of men and women who have fought and died for the freedom to not stand for that flag. How our leaders could be rational and try to understand the concerns of their constituents without attacking via tweets, Facebook posts, and other media. The divide grows ever wider.

Like I said, right is right and wrong is wrong. The problem is sometimes we won’t consider the other side. Maybe the world would be a better place if we did.

Here’s hoping this video uploads correctly!

 

My parents shortly after they married. Maybe spring of 1945. They married December 29, 1944.

Barry and I ran into a classmate of his at Walmart yesterday. In small towns, that’s what we do. It’s where we see everybody. Personally, I hate going to Walmart, but that is the topic of an entirely different blog. Let’s just call it an almost necessary evil in Small Town, USA. Walmart, however, is more than a shopping destination. It’s a social scene as well. It’s not uncommon to have to navigate your cart around people chatting in the middle of the aisle. We were blocking shoppers on the soft drink aisle, but we did try to move out of the way. But Barry and Susie needed to talk They needed to talk to someone who had experienced what they’ve experienced. They both lost both of their parents this year, within the space of a few months In Barry’s case, two months.

We are still coping with realizing that Barry’s parents are gone. Their illnesses were short. Their departure from this world was swift. They lived independently until the end. So we weren’t expecting it. We weren’t ready.

Yet, we are glad it happened quickly. We are glad they didn’t suffer and linger for a long time. I know Barry thinks about them every day. Just as I still think about my dad every day, and he passed away five years ago. If you have a good relationship with your parents, you will always think of them. That’s just the way it is.

But as Barry and Susie talked, I was thinking about how our generation is coping with caring for aging parents. More and more people are living well into their 80s, but for most, their abilities decline in that decade. They must rely upon others to do things like drive them places at night, change light bulbs in the ceiling, even take the garbage down to the road. Their short-term memory is worse, and they tell the same stories over and over. And over and over. And we smile and listen as though it’s the first time we’ve heard it.

My mother will be 90 this month. I researched the percentage of Americans living to that age, and in 2011, the number was 1.9 million, with 74% of them women. 1.9 million sounds like a lot, but that is pretty small compared to our 350 million plus population. I’m not even going to try to do the math to get the percentage. Her health overall is pretty good, although she doesn’t think so, with most of her issues being her lack of mobility due to knee and hip problems. Her sister lives with her, and my cousin and I make sure they have what they need and do things for them that they can’t do for themselves.

But I’m going to be honest. It’s hard taking care of an aging parent. It’s hard logistically. Every time there’s an issue, I have to drive across town. At least I don’t live in a city. Sometimes it’s hard physically. Lifting a wheelchair and putting it in the trunk of the car, for instance. At times I feel like Barry and I are taking care of two households, although Mom and her sister do most of their own housecleaning. I just have to do the deep stuff. But repairs and maintenance — we do them. I take Mom to her doctors’ appointments, and at her age, there are plenty. It’s hard emotionally. You worry about them. You get frustrated with them. Maybe you shouldn’t, but you do. They can be more stubborn than a two-year-old. Some aging parents are more needy than others. Maybe you have to take care of their finances. Maybe you have to talk to them ten times a day because he or she calls frequently. Maybe they are fearful — of someone breaking in, of the night, of storms, of dying — and you must be the one to give them emotional strength.

You hurt for them. You want to fix things. You wish they were emotionally stronger. You wish they were the young, strong parents who took care of you instead of the weak, aging parents you must now care for.

You’re glad to do things for them. After all, they raised you, loved you, took care of you, were there for you when you needed them. But it’s hard to go from being the cared-for to the care-giver.

I’ve been doing it for years. My dad was pretty much bedridden for a year and a half before he passed away, and I got used to checking on them and taking care of their needs before he died. But for many, it’s new territory. If you are entering that territory, I have these suggestions.

1. They need to hear from you or see you every day. If you live out of town, call them. Let them know you are available.
2.  Some parents will take advantage of you. Learn to discern what is a real need and what is a want. Older people tend to want things fixed — now. They don’t understand you have a job and other obligations that might keep you from being able to get to their house to move that heavy table out of one corner into another.
3. Make sure they are eating well. They lose their appetites, and they stop cooking, especially if they live alone. Take leftovers. Buy something at a restaurant. Buy Boost or Ensure for them. Mom likes vanilla Boost. My father-in-law liked chocolate. It’s good for them and tastes good.
4. Make time for yourself. Do something you enjoy. Don’t feel guilty when you go out with friends or take short trips. Mom panics every time I leave town, but I make sure she is going to be taken care of. That doesn’t keep her blood pressure from going sky-high, but my cousin or son give her the medicine to bring it down and then she copes.
5. Some parents are more demanding than others, and that can be irritating. My mom doesn’t demand. She just drops hints. She really doesn’t want me doing so much, but she knows she has no choice. I have to do her grocery shopping for her, because she can’t. Some parents, however, may remind you on a regular basis of how you should be helping them and if you don’t, you’re not a good child. It can drive you crazy, literally. Find a way to cope while still meeting their actual needs.
6.  Find someone you can vent to. You’re human. Things will bother you, in spite of your best intentions. Sharing may help you cope with the stress. Feeling this way doesn’t mean you don’t love your parent(s). It just means you’re human, and you get tired. Don’t be unkind to your parent, but find someone you can talk to. Or journal. Acknowledge your feelings. I have to pray about things on a regular basis, because I just get so tired. I wish I didn’t, but I do.
7.  Seek counseling if needed. Sometimes you need someone to help you put things in perspective.

There is much more to say about this topic, but it’s important to remember that everyone’s experience is different, but everyone’s personality is different. Including your parent’s.

Remember, we may live to be old and relying on others someday. I have already given my sons permission to place me in a nursing home if I get to the point I can’t take care of myself. I think that’s important because my own parents made it known that they would rather die than be in a nursing home. That’s a lot of emotional baggage for someone. How will I feel if my mom requires 24-hour nursing care? If I have to place her in a nursing home because I cannot give her the proper care? Nursing homes are not ideal, but in some cases, it’s the only choice.

Taking care of our parents is an obligation, and we do it out of love. That doesn’t mean it isn’t challenging. That doesn’t mean it’s all roses and happy times. But taking care of them means you care.

And we owe them that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

65 years ago, on June 7, my in-laws married. He was 20. She was 17. They lived in the same small town most of their married life, raising two boys, working in various occupations, attending church regularly, and doing all of the things that good people like them manage to do. They just lived their lives the way they thought they were supposed to.

These two exemplified commitment. To each other, to their children, to their grandchildren, to their great-grandchildren. To their extended family. To their jobs. To their church. To their friends. To their community.

On June 2, 2017, my sweet mother-in-law passed away. In the more than 36 years that I was her daughter-in-law, we never had a cross word. She was kind. She and I didn’t always look at things the same way, but we never argued. She was an amazing cook. She was devoted to her family. In her last days, what was her advice? “Be good to each other.” “Love each other.” Translated: “Be committed to each other. Take care of each other.”

Two months later, on Aug. 2, my dear father-in-law passed away. No advice to give us, but we know he’d want the same. He was such a charmer, with a personality that drew others to him. He was funny. He loved old westerns on TV and game shows. He loved his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. But most of all he loved his “baby.” He was lost without her. His cancer took him, but his grief made him willing to go.

Their life together was not perfect, and they never would have said it was. But it was good. It was solid. It was real.

It was a life of commitment.

 

 

 

 

 

I had posted that I would write about the backstory of my newest release, Aimee, and I will do that possibly tomorrow. Or the next day. Soon.

But I’ve been looking at old pictures. And thinking. Thinking about what my life has been like and the experiences I’ve had. And wondering what other experiences await me.

The largest town I’ve ever lived in had a then-population of 35,000. The smallest town I’ve ever lived in is my current town of just under 11,000. So I guess you could say I’ve always been a small town girl.

So you can imagine how I felt when we went on our first cruise in 2008. I had no idea what to expect and was more than a little nervous. We’d been told by some people that if you didn’t gamble or drink, there wasn’t anything to do on a cruise. Wrong. We don’t do either, and we kept plenty busy. Trivia contests. Comedy shows (clean ones, not the late-night racy variety, we were already asleep at that point). Reading a good book on the deck while soaking in the sun and feeling the breeze. Free music. (Some of it funny. You haven’t lived until you’ve heard a group from the Philippines singing Beatles songs.) Enjoying a long dinner in the evening and getting to know our table mates. Shore excursions. Playing putt-putt on the nine-hole course on the top deck of the ship. For me: walking on a treadmill in the fitness center while watching the sea in front of me as the ship moved along.

But, boy, were we green. Everything was a new experience. We missed the formal dinner the first night because we weren’t sure what to do. The first time I flushed the toilet in our room, I thought I’d done something wrong. (If you’ve cruised before, you know what I’m talking about.) I wasn’t sure how to dress. I learned that “formal” wasn’t really that formal.

I continue to have experiences that are new, some pleasant and some not-so-pleasant. Sometimes I feel like the proverbial fish-out-of-water. Hey, is that a proverb or just an old saying? Anyway, sometimes I feel out of my element. One particular incident comes to mind. No, not an incident. A weekend.

A few weeks ago, Barry and I went to our son’s to dog-sit while he and his wife were on a weekend trip. He lives in Memphis.

First mistake: I didn’t shut the bedroom door that first night and their huge dog that is still very much a puppy went downstairs while we slept and attacked a cushion on their very nice couch. I woke up in the middle of the night, ran downstairs, and found the white stuffing all over the floor. Scolded the dog, cleaned up the mess, and went back upstairs. This time I shut the door so Mowgli couldn’t get out.

Second mistake: I set off the ADT alarm the next morning when we left the house.  Barry had pulled the car out of the garage and lowered the door, then exited the house through the side door. While waiting for him, I accidentally hit the garage door opener. The garage door went up a foot, and I hit it to go back down. I didn’t know it had set the alarm off. I’m not used to alarm systems. When my son called me from Chicago telling me he’d received a call from the security company and that the police were at the house — and we were 20 minutes away at this point — I wanted to cry. The alarm had been going off all that time. Mowgli was in his kennel, probably scared to death by the noise. Thinking of that, I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me.

Third mistake: On our last day, I stripped the bed and washed their very nice sheets. I know they’re very nice because I bought them for them. I used their washer, which is very different from mine. After drying the sheets and putting them back on the bed, I saw that the laundry detergent had bleached out some spots on their very nice pillow cases. I had obviously not dissolved the detergent right. Once again, earth please open up and swallow me.

My son and his wife were very gracious about all of this, but I wouldn’t blame them if they never want us to dog-sit or house-sit for them again. Well, never want me. Barry didn’t make any blunders.

But maybe they will. After all, I was an experienced cruiser when we went on our second cruise in 2010. And the next time I go to the big city, I guarantee I’ll be more careful. About everything. I hope.

 

 

 

The fun is about to begin! (Teachers who read this are saying, “What???”)

Seriously, funny things happen at school. Kids say funny things. Teachers do and say funny things. Nothing wrong with that. We need more laughter at school. We need more laughter in life.

Years ago, when I was teaching high school French, we had a lesson involving animals. The textbook had a picture of the animals with the French words underneath each one and a bubble with the animal sound. You know, how we depict a dog as saying “Bow wow” or “Arf.” One student raised his/her hand (trying to protect the student’s identity) and asked, “Do animals in France make the same sounds as animals here?”

Or the time I was teaching and a student raised her hand. “Mrs. Harris, did you know you have two different shoes on?” I looked down. Yep, sure enough. One black flat with a pointed toe and one black flat with a rounded toe.

When a principal I once worked with made announcements, he occasionally said something that cracked all of us up. Not on purpose. It’s just what he did, the way he said it. And we loved it. It started our day with a good laugh.

At in-service last year, our principal brought in a magician of sorts who also had an important message, designed to encourage us and get our batteries recharged for the school year. It may have been one of the best in-service sessions I have ever attended. I left that session relaxed, having laughed until I cried, and inspired because of the man’s message at the end.

I encourage my fellow teachers — along with myself — to laugh more. Laugh more with our co-workers. Laugh more in the classroom. Find the humor when you can. Don’t stress over the small stuff. Don’t take yourself or your situation too seriously.

Laughter truly is the best medicine!

Teacher humor photos found on Pintrest.