Month: February 2024

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Looking forward and finding ourselves

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

#5 Lenten Reflections

When Zavier was 2, he rode his Zebra fiercely down the sidewalk with quick Flinstone feet, always looking backward. “Look in front of you!” I’d yell – worried he’d crash into his brother on his scooter or sister immersed in her Babysitter Club book on the grass. What could possibly be so interesting behind him?

As I was reading the book Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse, essentially a foraging of oneself along a path littered with suffering, surrender, and serenity…I thought of Zavier’s rearview mirror gaze. I thought about how I am guilty of looking back, and wishing things were the way they used to be instead of how they are, right here, right now – embracing who I am: tired eyes, post-50 love handles and gray roots – even though the little box of color said “6 weeks of color”.

In the story, following an exchange with Buddha, Siddhartha continues his journey in search of where he belongs, wrestling with every decision. “At that moment, when the world around him melted away, when he stood alone like a star in the heavens, he was overwhelmed by a feeling of icy despair, but he was more firmly himself than ever. That was the last shudder of his awakening, the last pains of birth. Immediately he moved on again and began to walk quickly and impatiently, no longer homewards, no longer to his father, no longer looking backwards.” As Siddhartha searches for the Self, he finds the struggle comes from fear of himself and running away from his truth.

I thought about our old dog Misty, who would constantly glance back when she ran with me and I let her off the leash. She would bolt ahead, only to stop and make sure I was still behind her. I was always leery to let her run off-leash thinking she’d decide to really catch the squirrel this time – once I thought I’d lost her, but on that snow-white day in Maryland, she was out running with deer in a field, an unmitigated sanctuary.  She saw me and came right back. The elation she showed when flying down a hill, herding another dog during a game of fetch, or jumping in the water was priceless. Had I restricted her or squelched her natural courage, she would have lost all of those moments dogs need to thrive and be alive. We all need off-leash moments. A time to let go of the tethers in life and push forward on our own accord.

What I learned:

Whether you’re on a tricycle navigating your way down the sidewalk, going for a run with your dog, or reading an enlightening book like Siddhartha, give yourself some grace as you push all the messiness away, the worry of what people think of us, the battle for botox or not, the misconception that more stuff equals more happiness.

Don’t overthink, act. Take steps, take risks, take time. Love yourself.

Quotes I love:

“Here’s how I became myself: mess, failure, mistakes, disappointments, and extensive reading; limbo, indecision, setbacks, addiction, public embarrassment, and endless conversations with my best women friends; the loss of people without whom I could not live, the loss of pets that left me reeling, dizzying betrayals but much greater loyalty, and overall, choosing as my motto William Blake’s line that we are here to learn to endure the beams of love.

Oh, yeah, and whenever I could, for as long as I could, I threw away the scales and the sugar.”

– Anne Lamott

Thanks for joining me,

~Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Baseball Locker Room Robbed

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

#4 Lenten Reflections – Losing a baseball glove is like losing a good friend

Our son’s High School Baseball Team’s locker room was robbed Friday night. Thousands of dollars of equipment was stolen. Bats, gloves, sunglasses, and bags.

Zavier’s glove is gone.

Let me explain Zavier. He’s just a cool kid. Huge smile, dazzling green eyes, and not a frivolous or pretentious bone in his body. Simply Zavier. What you see is what you get.

Unlike our other kiddos, who worked like crazy to save money for a car or truck, Zavier opted to buy his sister’s old car for a portion of the money he made working over the summer and save the rest for baseball gear.

So yesterday morning when Zavier returned from the batting cages, I asked how everything went and he replied, “Interesting”. Not hearing his signature, “Good” I knew something was wrong.

He went on, “We were robbed…bats, gloves, sunglasses, bags”. All gone. “Only my glove is gone”.

That is so Zavier. “Only my glove”. No stress, just the facts.

“Coach will send an email about everything,” he said.

Here’s what I know about baseball gloves:

Most people know every player has a special relationship with their glove. The hours spent breaking in a glove are endless. They start out stiff, uncomfortable, and awkward (kind of like I felt going back to work after being a stay-at-home mom). Poor gloves.

For the last two years, Zavier has worked on breaking in his Rawlings Heart of the Hide 11.5 glove. Countless catches and snags have molded its every crease and seam. He rubs oil on it when needed, doesn’t let anyone touch it (although his brother teases constantly), and in the off-season, he sets it in the same spot on the kitchen island for safekeeping. He has spent endless hours with that glove – and it was poised and ready for his senior year on the Varsity baseball team. Now it’s gone. And the season just started.

I look at this senseless and cowardly act of stealing as just sad. Not only did the thieves take the equipment, but they took the coveted commodity of time. The hours these boys spent molding their gloves, getting the bat tape just right on their bats, and caring for their baseball gear were also stolen.

So today Zavier dug up his old glove and is oiling it up as I type. Looks like it’s back in business. One thing Zavier still has is loads of love and care to give to his old Rawlings and hopefully a new glove sometime soon. For now, we’ll just move forward and (somewhat angrily) pray for the people who must have needed the equipment more than the team.

What I learned:

When I heard Zavier say “We” in “We were robbed” I immediately thought of the collective word. Usually “we” referred to our immediate family – and this time it was about his family, his beloved baseball family. These are the guys he spends hours with – every day. Working out, throwing, catching, hitting, fielding, laughing, discussing books, cleaning the field, keeping each other motivated, and maybe most importantly, seeing who can do the best impersonation of their Coach’s – long-drawn-out, calm yet stern voice. I would assume there are bonus points if you can remember his classic quotes like “You were running to the ball like a blind dog in a meat market.” That’s his “We”. His baseball family.

Like all families, there are wins and losses, joys and tragedies.

This time equipment was lost. It’s just gone. But it is just “stuff”. It can be replaced. And honestly, their spirit and love of the sport weren’t taken, and we all know sometimes in life that’s all you need to keep you going. Love.

The best news is they are all healthy and ready to play.

Final thought:

Moments like this bust me into being grateful for the day…a reminder that every morning we are at a new trailhead and can either take baby steps or big loud stomps on our day’s journey. None of us know what’s going to happen next. We can recognize the moments we loathe – saggy necks, clothes that don’t fit, baseball gloves being stolen, but we don’t need to sit in the grave with all the bad. We have a choice to look up. Look up at the sky and drink in the beauty of the day one deep breath at a time.

Let’s go Hillgrove Hawks!

Thanks for joining me,

~Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Connecting with Mom and Dad

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

#3 Lenten Reflections

Tonight I dialed my parent’s cell phone to check in. As the youngest and furthest away from them I have few tasks other than feeling guilty that I am so far away. So tonight it was my job to make sure they ate their dinner. My sister had sent a picture of the roast, potatoes, and carrots she had left and all I had to do was remind them to eat. The first attempt to call ended with a lot of ringing and no response. Then I called the land line knowing out of nostalgia and habit, they usually pick this one up. Dad with a cheery, “Hola!” or “Howdy!” hoping whoever is calling has a lot of time to chat, or Mom with a stern “Hello” – an edge in her voice that says – I may be older, but don’t you dare try to scam me into giving you any personal information or money!

“¡Hola!” dad bellowed. “Luc-did you just call Mom’s little iPad? She was playing Solitaire and we heard it ringing.”

“I did!” I said loudly, joining Dad’s energetic banter.

“Can you call it again?” Dad asked. “Sure thing Dad”. “Thanks!” He said. I called again and there they were – well all I could see was the top of Mom’s freshly permed white hair and half of Dad’s face. But I loved it.

Dad started in, “Wow! Look at that picture! Nice and big! How did you call the iPad? Luc, can I pick up the cell phone and use that for the call too?” Dad was curious, always trying to figure out how things worked, and loving the fact that they could see a big picture. “It’s all connected” I explained. “All the devices will respond when someone calls if you’re using them.” He seemed satisfied with my not-so-technical answer and continued, “So what’s going on there? How’s your weather?”

I caught them up on the kids – the boys popped into the room to say hi to them and they commented on Zavier’s curly hair. Mom said, “You used to have hair like that Dad!” Dad chimed in, “When I HAD hair!” Then I pointed out Dexter’s new mustache. “He’s already shaving?” asked Dad. “He’s 19,” I told him. “Hmm, was I shaving at 19?” He asked himself.

We went back and forth for a bit and I asked if they ate. “Did we eat, Dad?” Mom asked. “We ate a late lunch.” He confirmed. “And you know mom, she eats 5,000 bowls of cereal in the morning. Then we eat a big lunch and snack for dinner.” Mom confirmed. “Yes, Lucretia, I guess we already ate.”

“Okay, well I’m in charge of reminding you to eat dinner. I have a picture of what you have to eat.” Dad jumped in, “What is it?” I pulled up the picture – “looks like roast, potatoes, and carrots…yum!”

“Okay,” Dad said, “Just tell the girls we ate. Maybe we’ll have some Cheerios.” Mom jumped in, “Yes! Dad just discovered he loves the Honey Nut Cheerios so now I have to share.” They went on to tell a story about a bent-up box of Cheerios they got at the Commissary for $2.00. My hubby Justin suggested they might want to “bend” some other boxes and try and get them at a discount also. Dad said he was thinking the same thing. Mom interjected saying, “Well we were planning on going to heaven, but I’m not sure about it if we will now.” We all chuckled and Mom said her stomach would be sore from all the laughing.

Always melancholy at the end of our conversations, I said – “Alright, don’t forget to eat! And Dad, take your medicine. (Dad tends to put all the medicine in his shirt pocket and carry them around all day, considering this his way of “taking them”.)

You need your multivitamin, your eye stuff, and the baby Aspirin. Always the jokester Dad said, “I can’t hear her anymore, can you Mom?”

“Daaaad! You stinker!” I said laughing.

We signed off, “Love you mija, time to light the fireplace.” Dad said.

“Love you, say hi to everyone,” Mom said calmly.

“Bye guys, I love you.” – I blew a kiss and made a loud kissing sound hoping somehow they felt my love for them coming through that little iPad that not only can be used for Solitaire but also talking to us. I’ll remind them again the next time they answer my call on it, as I always do. I sat back on the couch praying there would be many more calls ahead. Because every day is better after talking to them.

What I learned:

I share this story because this is my takeaway from the day. This conversation. Yes, out of the 1,440 minutes in one day, the 30 minutes on the phone with Mom and Dad will keep me optimistic and give me comfort knowing I have these two people still out there rooting for me, laughing with me, and even though they are forgetting to drink their Pedialyte and can’t remember their neighbor’s name, they still know who I am, their youngest gal. What a blessing they are.

It is so worth it to take the time to talk, listen, and share with people. Especially the ones who make you feel loved.

Also, take the time to pray. For yourself. For everyone. Pray for the family who just lost their son to a freak accident on the football field, pray for the second grader who just found out her little sister has leukemia, pray for the single mom who just lost her job and is starting from scratch, pray for the guy driving the Camaro who cut you off this morning, pray for those who appear to be happy but you just know that somewhere in their heart they are ailing.

Remember to take at least 30 minutes today (out of 1440) and exercise, pray, and connect.

Thank you for joining me,

~Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Belle’s fairy dress

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

#2 – Lenten Reflections

When 4-year-old Belle hopped out of her car this chilly morning at school, her blue eyes glistened as she looked up at me and proclaimed, “I have fairies on my dress today.” Yes, you do I confirmed. “Isn’t every dress better with fairies on it?” I asked her. “Yes!” She agreed. “How is your brother?” I asked. And as if we had just sat down for coffee she said thoughtfully, “Thomas is good. He likes school.” She did half twirls as she chatted, her green cotton dress swaying as pink fairies flitted around without a care in the world. “Adios,” she said giving me a warm hug. As she walked away I noticed her jacket spilling out of her bag. Of course, I thought, it may be 38 degrees out, but who would cover up fairies? Not Belle.

I pondered Belle’s faith in fairies all day and how even if a negative moment tried to tiptoe into her day, those fairies wouldn’t have it. It was as if scrappy little Tinker Bell (hmmm… “Belle”) herself was floating around sprinkling pixie dust everywhere. 

On my drive home from work, I listened to the news – toggling between a few stations to see if something…anything good was happening. Sadly, other than the incessant ads for a HUGE President’s Day Mattress sale coming up (Sleepnumber.com if you haven’t heard yet) no fairies were gracing the news today. So I opted for my son’s favorite country music station and let my mind wander as Zach Bryan crooned about “Something in the Orange” – maybe “the orange” is his fairy – the little moments that sprinkle his world with joy.

What I learned from Belle:

Life is like that – cobbled together in moments. Like tiny precious jewels strung onto a chain of tedium. And amid all the crazy, busy, days when we barely get through the red light on the way to work, click send at 11:59 pm to make the application due date, or get to the baseball game as “…and the home of the brave!” booms from the sound system – we must somehow remember to embrace the journey, marvel in the monotony, and relish it all. We’ve got one shot. 

So like Belle I’m going to find my own fairies. I know they aren’t hanging in my closet on a dress (darn it), but they are out there flitting around reminding me to live deeply, love fiercely, and laugh heartily.

Thank you for joining me,

~Lucretia

Quotes I love:

“My mother would have given anything to get old—to live, to have grandchildren—so the idea of being churlish about getting those gifts is unthinkable to me,” she says. “It’s a privilege to live life. I’d be disrespecting my mother if I didn’t embrace it.”

-Anna Quindlen

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

40 days – Here we go!

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

#1 – Lenten Reflections

When Lent arrives I come out of the box sprinting. Typically loaded with big plans to give up sugar or gluten, maybe stop being so judgy and lead with kindness, or remember to pack extra mercy and grace with me wherever I go.

I settled on sugar, but by 4:40 pm today as I popped a Werther’s candy in my mouth (fail), I told myself it was time to go back to my 40 days of blogging.

40 days of raw reflections I like to call them. Little snippets of life – the messy, funny, daunting, and unpredictable moments I experience or observe. We all bundle up so much in our hearts and heads, that sometimes it may be worth it to take a risk and share…to release our emotions and remember we’re not alone in this world. So I’ll share a view from my chair in life.

To get started before I begin, I turn to Pope Francis to guide me toward moments of solace. He has said, that to give hope to others, it is sometimes enough simply to be kind, to be “willing to set everything else aside in order to show interest, to give the gift of a smile, to speak a word of encouragement, to listen amid general indifference”.

So whether you listen to Taylor Swift or Taichowsky, follow NPR or Fox News, or believe in God or Ganesh, let these 40 days be yours to grow in faith and love for yourselves and one another.

So I’ll end with a quote from my 88-year-old Dad – something he says as he pours himself a little scotch,

“Join me!”

~Lucretia

On Ash Wednesday…

“This evening, in a spirit of prayer and humility, we receive ashes on our heads. This gesture is meant to remind us of the ultimate reality of our lives: that we are dust and our life passes away like a breath (cf. Ps 39:6; 144:4),” Pope Francis