Not All That Different

This past Saturday I competed in a Sprint Triathlon. It was the 3rd one I have done this season. I did my very first triathlon last June. I have to admit that I’m kind of hooked on them. If I was 20 year younger I’m sure I would be doing an Ironman distance in place of the Sprint distances.


In the past couple of months I have had the opportunity to encourage a few different people that are attempting or considering doing their 1st triathlon. I found out that the receptionist at my chiropractors office is training to do her 1st one this summer and I have shared some pointers with her. I have talked to a couple of different people that workout at the Y at the same time I do and they have been asking me questions because they are considering doing one as well. And then there is how I got hooked up with a complete stranger to do some training swims in Lake Tye. Because she has a couple of young children she can only do it late one night or early (6am) on Saturday mornings and was having a hard time finding a swim partner.

Kyle and I were talking the other day about my “competitive nature”, how I’m not out to win at any cost but I’m there to do my own very best and to help others do their best. That is one of the things I like best about doing triathlons. It is about encouraging people along the journey. It about letting those that are struggling that they can do this and to not give up, that is what gives me the greatest joy doing triathlons. Until this weekend I just thought that is something in me, but now I realize that is how all triathlete’s are.

On Saturday sustained 2 injuries during the run portion of the race. About ½ way through the 5K portion of the race I pulled an abductor muscle (or more commonly known as a groin pull) and then 500 yds from the finish line I twisted my bad knee. So I was obviously struggling. I ran as best I could at that given time and I’m sure it wasn’t pretty. As each of the other athletes passed me they all shouted out encouragement. Some of these were just weekend warriors as I am and others were very intense skilled athletes, but each and every one of them seeing the struggle that I was having were supportive and pushing me on to finish. Encouraging me and letting me know that they understood the effort. I crossed the finish line with a small group of friends, family and other athletes cheering me on.

Even though I placed 2nd in my age group, it is those words of encouragement that I remember and will remember in my next race and any more going forward.

Philippians 2:1-3

Impatiens

The sun is doing its best to come out today here in the Pacific Northwest. It has been the wettest and coldest spring on record so that is quite the pleasant surprise. Who knows we might even get warmer than 55 today.


Todays is Mother’s Day, and I truly hope that all you Mother’s out there have a blessed day and that today and every day you family celebrates you.


The last six Mother’s Days I had the opportunity to share them with my mother as she came to live in out here and I became one of her primary care givers. I remember last Mother’s Day my mother wanted to just enjoy the sun and flowers on a perfect warm spring day. I pushed her around the grounds and the surrounding neighborhood in her wheelchair to look at all of the flowers in bloom. We sat in the courtyard and we made calls to my sisters and other family members so my mom could talk to them. We sat and talked about the difference in the flowers here versus what we used to have in Michigan. It was a good day and I am happy we had it.


My mom loved Impatiens and one of the things that my sisters and I always did for my mom on Mother’s Day, was to plant them in the containers where ever she lived. I called one of my sisters yesterday to wish her a happy Mother’s Day, knowing that today would probably be too difficult and she said she was going out today and buy impatiens and plant them in the containers at her house this year. I told my husband today, that if it was warmer I would have done the same, but with the weather we are having they would probably not survive.


Maybe in a week or two I will plant some impatiens for you Mom.  


 

“Behave Yourself”

I’m sitting here on an airplane writing this. On the airplane from returning my mom to her place of birth and the place her remains will stay.


I couldn’t get into reading this flight and decided to watch the movie that is playing, Secretariat, and about half way through the movie the owner of the horse has had a stroke and about to die and his daughter is sitting beside his hospital bed telling him all about the hours and all it was accomplishing.

It was at that moment that the tears started to fall. I started to replay the memories of my mother’s last days. The last conversations we had, the last thing she ate (my french-fries from McDonald I brought for my lunch). We both knew our time together would not last long and yet, we didn’t discuss it. It just was. A couple of week before we had taken care of the logistics, she told me exactly what she wanted. She knew.

I want to know why it is on an airplane that I can let the emotions and the tears fall?

I spent pretty much the 78 hours of her life here on earth at her bedside. The last time she spoke was when I was holding the phone to her ear and she was talking to my sister and niece and she told them both she loved them. The last time she tried to speak, she mouthed the words: I Love You, to me.

A day later the last thing I said as I kissed her forehead and prepared to go and take a much needed nap (that I never got) was our normal departing routine. What do you say to someone that is living in a nursing home? I would say, “I love you and behave yourself”. Her reply,’ Luv You Too’, never came.

She Led

My mother loved to dance. When I was in High School and College my parents used to go to Dinner Dances at the local Eagles Club. They would move around the dance floor with grace and elegance doing the Jitterbug, Waltz and other dances from their era. My mom also danced with others, her dance card was always full and I don’t think she ever turned anyone down. She could dance with anyone, even someone that absolutely had no right to be on the dance floor. She moved around the floor with ease and grace always enjoying every minute of it.


My mother was a born leader. She truly had a gift for leadership. She could get people to do things that they thought weren’t possible. She could assess any situation and come up with a plan, and a mighty good plan at that, with seemingly little effort.

My mom was a High School Graduate and started working for the State of Michigan as a switch board operator. Yes, the old style, plug the cord into a panel, switch board. When she retired after more than 30 years she was the District Manager responsible for 1/3 of the counties in the state. She had a few college classes under her belt, but never completed her Degree.

She served in the Eagles Organization on many levels and including serving on National Committees. She would have went farther except for the effects of Parkinson’s disease took its tool and limited her ability to more.

She moved into a nursing home, because of the Parkinson’s a couple of years ago and almost immediately started serving the Resident Council for that facility and on the State of Washington Council for Resident rights. Some of the Staff at the Nursing home called her Madame President.

This last Monday my mother passed away and even in her death she was a leader. In that last weeks of her life she made all the plans and arrangements and made sure everyone knew what her wishes were. She defied all the norms and died on her own terms. We were jokingly calling her Frank Sinatra because she did it her way.

Today she is doing the Jitterbug in Heaven, free to move without pain, her physical limitations no longer in the way.

It was funny to watch when my dad would dance with someone other than my mom. He always seemed stiff and awkward during those dances. Such a contrast to when he danced with my mom. You see, he really didn’t know how to dance. She Led!

Johnny Mathis

I was thinking about Johnny Mathis today. I guess he was one of the 1st artists I ever listened to. He is one of my mother’s favorites and she bought his original album in 1956 and would play it while working around the house after putting me in the Johnny Jump up hung in the door way. She always told me that as long as music was playing I was a content baby and would sit in that thing for hours.

I remember listening to his Heavenly album in grade school. I know that album is somewhere in the stacks of old LPs that my sister has stored at her house.

I once got a handshake from him a few years ago when he sang here in Seattle; I think that was in either 2004 or 2005.

The chance encounter started in an airport. I was standing at yet another gate in O’Hare Airport waiting to catch a connecting flight to bring me home to Seattle. Up walks an older man in his flannel shirt, Levi jeans, baseball hat pulled down low. He sits quietly in the chairs after learning that the flight would be delayed for a few minutes. It wasn’t the man that made me take notice; it was the group of men around him. If they weren’t already all talking on their cellphones, they immediately pulled them out and started making calls. They were all dressed in the latest trends, lots of bling and black. Four men in their 30 or 40s, very much in charge and important, you know the type.

Once I realized they were with the older man I looked at him again and sure enough it was Johnny Mathis. Now he had seen me look at him and recognize him. I just smiled at him and looked around to see if anyone else had recognized him. They hadn’t and that had been his goal. I went back to what I was doing and waited for my turn to board the aircraft. Soon after that they started boarding and he was ushered toward the gate by his entourage and that was that.

Or so I thought. As I boarded the airplane he was sitting there in first class. I went to go past his seat he stopped me took my hand, looked me in the eye and said thank you with all sincerity. I went to my seat and the flight made it to Seattle with no problems and as I was leaving Baggage Claim to get my ride, he gave me another nod of acknowledgement.

That memory isn’t so vivid because he is a star, but because of his sincerity. I can only imagine how tiring it gets to live a life where it is hard to just be you. Lord, let me see each and every man, woman and child for who there are.

Circle of Life

I’ve spent the afternoon sitting next to my mother’s bed as she sleeps. I wonder how many days or night she has done the same for me.


I remember the time I had major abdominal surgery and I almost didn’t make it. The surgery lasted 8 hours and was only supposed to have lasted 1. I was in the hospital for 3 weeks and it should have only been 3 days. I wonder what went through her mind during that time as I drifted in and out.

I’m sure there were times when I was young that she has taken a damp cloth and wiped the tear stains from my cheek or rubbed my arm to soothe me. I wish I remembered those times.

What do they call it “The Circle of Life”?
Thanks Mom.