Author: Lucretia Cahill

Daily Reflections #18 – I reread this older post tonight and relished in the memories of connecting with other parents, friends and families.

It made me realize…

Our times have changed, but our needs haven’t.

We need each other. We need to share our stories. We need the fog to clear, and when it does, let us serve as oars for each other and propel our lives toward the light.

Wednesday Flashback – This is why I write.

I think about writing and the sunny feeling I get when I help others or touch their lives. (With three kids going to college soon, perhaps I should think a bit more about tuition money).

Let’s just say I’m like a Border Collie with a constant head tilt completely engrossed in 50- shades of everything, and the nuances of nothing. I think of stories constantly. Not in an Emerson “Self-Reliance” kind of way, more in a Seinfeld “show about nothing” kind of way.

I am always thinking about how all of us are linked and how sharing our stories helps us celebrate our milestones or hold each other up in our toughest moments.

Maybe it’s commiserating on how tricky it can be to shuttle three kids to three different practices starting at the same time.

Or maybe it’s about trying to help your children with homework as you pretend to remember what ‘slope-intercept’ or ‘rhetorical writing’ means.

Or maybe it’s listening to your own 80-something parents on speakerphone as they recount their day going from church to the doctor and then the grocery store, all the while wishing you were there to drive them, hover over them and hold their hands for balance and warmth.

Perhaps it’s a middle school story about our kids being too shy, too needy, too weird.

Or maybe like me, it’s when you hear the news about a mom you worked with for years on PTA who died in her sleep and how she was too young and won’t get to see her children graduate.

Blogging reminds me of writing my fears and favorites in my childhood diary. It had a green satin cover and that little tiny key I hid and lost, and used a bobby pin instead. Writing to me is a chronicle, proof, opinion, and vulnerability…the more I do it, the easier it is.

In Malcolm Gladwell’s book, The Outliers, he claims the way to achieve world-class mastery in any skill is to repeatedly doing something correctly for 10,000 hours. It’s this deliberate practice that leads to expertise.

I’m certainly not an expert — and 10,000 hours of anything sounds just awful. My goal instead is to help, share, connect, and tell the funny, sad and wacky moments I know I’m not the only one out there experiencing.

On Faith and Fitness…

Write down a story, stretch your body.

Lenten Reflections #17

I repeat myself…a lot. Today my self-talk took a road down Judgement Lane way too many times. In fact, I told myself – out loud, “Stop being judgey!” at least 12 times.

Who knows if “judgey” is even a word, but it rolls off my tongue almost too easily. Sometimes I use “judgey” as an introduction to a critisism, like this: “I don’t mean to be judgey, but…”. Or I may say, “Here I go getting judgey again…”. Eloquent lines? No. Unnecessary? Yes.

So I thought back to one of my favorite things Pope Francis has said,

Honestly? He’s right.

Here we are…muddling through a pandemic, lost jobs, hunger, emotional stress, worry, fear, and so much more. Let’s not judge but rather carry each other through these troubled waters as He leads us on.

On Faith and Fitness:

Think about this while you go for a walk today:

God Himself doesn’t propose to judge a man until he is dead.
So why should you?

Thanks for reading.

I’m a travelling teacher this year. By travelling, I don’t mean, “the world” but rather, the hallways. I push a cart from class to class teaching Spanish to little ones. I load up my cart so it resembles that of a first class flight attendant, except instead of pretzels and soda, I tote around a stuffed cat named Gloria and burnt sienna crayons.

Once inside a classroom, my lessons typically involve comprehensible input using songs, stories and games. But like anything else, the plan can only be as good as the implementation…and when technology is involved, it can make you or break you.

If you let it.

Some days just signing into the computer or screen in another teacher’s classroom is crippling. “Do I sign out of all the other accounts? Open a new browser? Close all browsers? Shut everything down and count to 10…in Spanish?

Meanwhile, behind me are 16 five- and six-year-olds pining to help. Because they “know EXACTLY what to press.” Shouts of “Señora! I’ll help! I know! Just press THIS button!” Some tech-savvy kiddos rush toward the screen like 20-somethings to a BTS concert.

So when technology attempts to derail my lesson, I first halt the screen rushers, turn to the class and say, “Please don’t help, just let me fail…I can’t succeed if I don’t fail.” While most of the kids glance at each other with the “she IS crazy” look on their faces, they patiently wait for me to noodle through passwords, tabs, or Google Slides, all the while we count in Spanish or sing a song. After a few minutes, the screen turns to blue, Google’s rainbow brightens the room and Voila! We did it!

There was one particular day when my back was to the class during that moment of struggle when the big screen froze, and I tapped like a downy woodpecker everywhere to make it work. Then I heard a quiet boy in the back of the room say,

“Shhh! Don’t help her, let her fail!”

I turned and thanked him, and miraculously, the screen clicked on and service was restored.

All of us, teachers, parents and kids alike have to struggle, fail, struggle more and succeed. As a parent of three teenagers, I need to let them fail, fall, get up and try again. Because right now, we’re all under the same roof and I can still be their safety net if they need me. Succeed, fail, succeed, repeat.

On Faith and Fitness:

Pray, plank, pray, plank, pray.

Lenten Reflections #15

Everyday we’re posed with decisions to make. But how and why do we make the choices we do?

Why do some kids decide to go to college and others trade school? Why are some people vegan and others pescatarian? Why invest in a hybrid or a big truck? Or a home with a three-car garage and a lake vs. a tiny house?

According to Psychology Today most of our decisions are based on human motivation drivers such as: the need to belong, anchoring new habits to current habits, and using your personal beliefs and traits to help connect you to the decision being made.

Growing up we had a path: school, college, more college, work.

My mom always said, “There is life beyond Bridge Street” – this was a bridge that crossed over the Rio Grande river into the city of Albuquerque and ultimately the world. Dad wanted us all to get our Master’s Degrees…because it was proof. Proof of education, proof of time dedicated, proof of mastery.

My sister’s and I all found our way over bridge and into Master’s Programs. But I must admit, I did everything I possibly could before I decided to fill out the application for a Master’s Degree. Travel, work, and more travel. It was ONLY when I decided to apply, did I succeed in getting that degree.

Which leads me to yet another thing my father said the other day,
“People are more likely to do something if it is their idea.”

-Dad

Here’s one more example:

Back in the 50’s, mom was offered a four-year scholarship to St. Johns College in NM. However, since her dad was sick at home and couldn’t work at our family’s ranch, she decided she needed to supplement my grandmother’s hair salon salary and work to support her family.

She tells us this story often and recently said she was very pleased with her decision, “It was the right thing to do at that time and I’m glad I did, it was MY decision.”

She found her inner peace with her decision. She owned it and she was proud of it.

May you always believe in the decisions you make and move forward, leaving all regret behind.

On Faith and Fitness

Will you decide to pray or move today? It’s all up to you.

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Lenten Reflections #13

My father always says, “Getting old isn’t for wimps.” No matter the age, aches and pains tap dance through our bodies like Tommy Tune in “Bye Bye Birdie”. One day it’s the hip as you step out of bed, or the back as you bend down to tie your shoes. On winter mornings, arthritic hands barge in uninvited straining to type or grip or hold. Perhaps it’s the strain to see the small print on the newspaper you’ve read the last 50 years or the emotional pain to remember what day it is. (TIP: Use the date on the newspaper to help, mom does). Bottom line, pain stinks but can be managed.

Pain is sensed through special nerves, carted over to the brain where the pain takes a number, is then registered, processed and perceived. What happens next is all about who we hire as our pain project manager.

I’ve spent the last few days with my parents and as my dad says, “when one ability goes away, another one pitches in to help.” He said this while driving, so I didn’t question it as he crossed through an intersection he’s driven hundreds of times.

According to The Journal of the American Osteopathic Association, for “pain management to be effective in the elderly, physicians need to be skillful in pain assessment; capable of recognizing the importance of a holistic, interdisciplinary team approach to care; and knowledgeable of both pharmacologic and nonpharmacologic approaches to management.”

Here’s the caveat: finding a physician that possesses all of these qualities. However, whether you have a doctor who excels in prescribing or one who is homeopathic, here are 5 remedies that have helped my parents and are worth a shot. Of course, always see your doctor when needed…these are simply ideas:

1. DISTRACTIONS – **HIGHLY RECOMMENDED**

On their website, StopPain.org, the group, Net of Care, discusses symptom management and makes another useful suggestion, and that is to use distraction “as a pain management technique in which patients focus their attention on something other than their pain and negative emotions.”

Whether it’s movement, meditation, prayer, conversation or interactions, distraction is the spoonful of sugar we need to help the medicine go down. In fact, don’t underestimate the spoonful of sugar, my sister brought by some 2-inch thick fudge and my mom finally sat down, forgot about the pain and enjoyed.

Here are mom and dad’s recommendations:

• pull out a puzzle
• listen to Helen Reddy, Anne Murray, whatever warms your heart, and sing along
• do a crossword puzzle or jumble
• take out a photo album
• tell stories
• talk on the phone
• “play outside” as dad says – prune, stack wood, plant, water or just have happy hour
• watch TV – Alaska shows for Dad, Downton Abbey for Mom, Golden Girls for both (they never disappoint)

2. Heat – Step aside Yule Log.
My parent’s home is about 85 degrees at all times. If not, the fireplace will be lit. Yet another reason to sit, relax and enjoy the view of the fireplace. As dad says, “it’s better than TV.” Also try a warm shower or bath, heating pad, or sunshine. All will relax muscles and spasms.

3. Deep Breathing
Slow, quiet breathing helps relax the body and mind and soothe pain. Lie or sit with one hand on your belly and take a deep, slow breath. Close your eyes and picture your belly filling a balloon with air. Exhale and let all of the air out of the balloon, letting go of any unhappy thoughts and listening to the sound of your breath as you inhale relaxation. Repeat six times.

4. Feed the birds!

This is another favorite I will elaborate on later. There is an amazing effect birds have on people, the calm surrender of sitting and watching someone else do the work when our bodies are just too tired.

5. Move!

Get outside. It’s that easy. Mask up, suit up and go outside!

No matter the age, our bodies need rest, and care, and strength.

No matter the age, our hearts need love and hope and faith.

No matter the age, our minds need rest, whether they forget the day, the face or the moment; they need rest.

On Faith and Fitness

Mask up and go to church or meditate outside. BREATH.

Lenten Reflections #12

Last year at this time, I had just spoken to my Madrina (Godmother) over the phone wishing her a happy Leap Year Birthday. She turned 85.

Exactly one month ago, my dear Godmother passed away suddenly and was not able to celebrate her 86th birthday. Thankfully, she did not die from COVID, nor was she ailing for long. She fell. She was alone.

I had spoken to her just a month before she passed and she told me she had started walking again, going to church, and enjoying the days in her home by the mountains. I immediately thought of an old Doris Day song my mom sings over the phone to me quite often as she reminisces. It’s called, “Enjoy Yourself”

Enjoy yourself
It’s later than you think
Enjoy yourself
While you’re still in the pink
The years go by
As quickly as a wink
Enjoy yourself
Enjoy yourself
It’s later than you think

This is one thing my Godmother always told me, enjoy yourself, enjoy your kids, enjoy your family, and enjoy life.

In honor of my Godmother, I am reposting last year’s Leap Year Baby story about her.

Mi Madrina

On February 29, 1936, my Godmother was born.

In Leap Year math terms, she’s had 21 true birthdays. So today is especially busy for her. Let’s just say if an angel got their wings every time her phone rang today, the halo business would be booming. I was among her callers who sang the traditional Happy Birthday and a few lines of Las Mañanitas, her favorite birthday song.

I filled her in on the kids and our treks from swim meets to tennis matches, and then baseball games. In lockstep, she reminded me to enjoy every moment of their childhood, because it goes too fast. “What are their ages?” she asked. When I said, 17, 15 and 14, she jumped in and as if reading from a mom script, said,  “Oh college is coming up, that’s expensive.” She continued, “It’s when they go away that’s hard.” I knew she was referring to the outrageous cost attached to out of state tuition, but I also knew from our previous conversations that her statement meant more. She’s always been candid and honest about being a mom.

When we chat, her kind, subtle NM accent reminds me of home. I listen to how she recalls life as a mom…and I can hear how quickly life’s pages turn, the moment you’re suddenly not going to baseball games or PTA meetings anymore but airports to pick up your kids who are “just visiting”. I can’t help but think of how she felt the first Sunday morning when she stopped looking for a large section on a church pew, but instead, was able to slip in at the end of a row because she was alone.

She tells me she prays for me every night and every morning. When she says it, I feel my body relax. Somehow simply knowing someone whose faith is at their core is thinking of me, makes me feel cloaked in love. To me, she’s like one of the saints Catholics have for everything. We pray to them when illness, accidents or a loss occurs and we know they have our backs. That’s my Godmother. I know her prayers for me are deep, no-nonsense and true.

Chances of being born on a leap day are about one in 1,461, according to the BBC. In fact, some astrologers say leap year babies may possess special talents and luck. I agree. When I look at the picture of the day I was baptized, I think about all my Godmother has taught me: to cherish time with my family, knowing they will eventually live under different roofs; keep faith at the forefront; and hope our kids will thrive with credence, compassion, and kindness.

Gracias, Madrina.

Lenten Reflections #11

So if you’re wondering what travelling by plane is like during this phase of COVID, here it is:

I arrived to a bustling in the Atlanta airport at 5:00 a.m. 

Kiosks were lined up with passengers scanning and tapping screens. Signs and printed directions guided me as I placed the checked bag labels on, which is trickier than you’d think but I was able to make out the “peel off part 1 then adhere to part 2” instructions as my glasses fogged teetering on my double masks.

Airport employees facilitated luggage check-ins waving and pointing, travellers seemingly understanding the hand gestures and muffled directions. Starbucks and Chick-fil-a lines resembled the drive-thru lines by our home, social distancing was forgotten as people leaned into the next, tired, hungry and thirsty like the Statue of Liberty was calling them in the form of a Frapuccino.

Security was stringent and efficient, just long.

Hearing multiple languages over the loud speaker is always the sunny side of any day for me. Of course, the announcements were reminding us to wear masks at all times. Thankfully the multilingual nudges seemed to work as toddlers to seniors were masking up, some of them even covered their noses rather then “half-masking”.

The flights were notably packed and the Southwest Airline flight attendant, in true character, focused on maximizing humor and creativity. During his spiel, he told everyone to wear their masks the duration of the flight. He went on to say, “Eating is fine, however, it should not take you two hours to eat a Chic-fil-a chicken biscuit…we all know you don’t want to wear your mask.”

With middle seats filled, the flight was not the most comfortable, nor comforting, but we made it. As we taxied to the gate, the flight attendant announced to “Remain seated until we are safely at the gate and please pretend to social distance as we exit”.

My last flight to Albuquerque was nearly empty, quiet and as always bumpy through the mountains. Both flights were smooth, and I did learn pandemic flights are certainly more calming when you don’t have to share an armrest with a half-masked neighbor.

Safe travels wherever you go. When you arrive, contact Walgreens and you can get a COVID test there quickly.

On faith and fitness…

If you are flying, say an Our Father during take off and landing.

Also, take comfortable shoes and walk around the airport. If you need to stay by the gate, find a quiet floor spot and do light stretching. Don’t worry about people watching, if anything, they should want to join you in your healthy endeavor.

RESOURCE: Here’s a link to information on COVID travelling from the CDC: TRAVEL DURING COVID-19.

Lenten Reflections #10

My parents have kind-hearted friends. When they need anything, every call is answered, meals are made, hair is cut, flowers delivered. This loving response is testimony to the fact that our parents have served and loved and given water to those in need.

May we all think like Jesus and focus each day on serving one another.

On Faith and Fitness

Pray for others while you go on a nice run.

lenten reflections #9

From the Runonmom.com Lenten archives, here’s one of my personal Friday Favorites…thanks for reading.

Today at work, I walked with a first grader to the classroom. The tousled-hair blonde with sweet, aqua eyes looked down at his untied sneakers and uttered, “I still don’t know how to tie my shoes…I mean, I just don’t have time, you know (dramatic pause) now that I play baseball.” He caught my eye to make sure I fully grasped the play ball part. I gave him an understanding, “I KNOOOW, you’ve got a lot to do!” response and he gave me the kid nod that said, “finally, someone gets it.”

Clearly, he was a busy guy. Way too busy to mess with shoe strings and all that tying. Baseball was his priority now and talking about it made him beam. He wanted to share who he was and by letting me know that first, he was a baseball player, he was pleased with himself and satisfied I heard it from him first.

We all need our thing. Something that drives us. Something that makes us jump out of bed and start the day with a spark. Does it define who we are? Maybe. It certainly tells more of our story. And kids? Kids really need their “thing”. Kids need to get out and experience. Whether in an organized sport or class or just playing with friends on the playground. They need opportunities for socializing and developing who they are and what they love.

Growing up for me in the sports world, it was soccer or soccer. As the fourth of four girls, you just follow the pack and my sister who is closest in age to me was a soccer player, therefore, so was I. We had two practices a week, ate dinner together and always went to each other’s games toting sliced oranges and water wearing our reversible uniforms.

Nowadays, there are so many choices for kids. From soccer to fencing, mountain biking to curling. Practices for us end as late as 9:00 pm. Some nights, dinners are eaten at different times, homework sits on the back burner simmering patiently and Justin and I feel like we are constantly driving somewhere.

Thank God. Thank God they found something they care about and enjoy.

Naturally, over the years our kids have dabbled in a lot to find out what makes them tick. In the process, we’ve had: acoustic guitars, bass guitars, ukeleles, soccer cleats, keyboards, lacrosse goals, baking tools, chorus, piano music, gymnastics, basketball high tops, hockey pucks, baseball gloves, frisbee golf goals, shuttlecocks, tennis rackets, catcher’s gear, football helmets, swim goggles, orienteering shoes, toe shoes, tap shoes, ballet shoes, running shoes, metal cleats, turf cleats, unicycles, mountain bikes, skateboards, Ripsticks, bows, arrows, quivers, fishing rods, dart boards, ping pong balls,  and more I may have forgotten.

I certainly am not complaining. I am so grateful they have WANTED to try so many things and happy we’ve been able to afford them the chance. They’ve settled on (but are not limited to) swimming, baseball and mountain biking (and now tennis!) plus cello, saxophone, and trumpet…a well-rounded crew.

So let them try. Let them fail. Let them know they have to give it more than a week. Tell them to power through the whole season because there is a team or group depending on them and life is about teamwork and persevering.

I know we’re busy, but as I say, it’s a good busy. It’s a time where we can relish in our children’s successes, see them win, lose, fall, get up and be there just in case they need us or a Bandaid.

My first-grade friend who is simply too busy to bother with tying shoes figured out what makes him happy as all kids should.

Spiritual Workout: Go to confession –

Confession flashback! Remember when we would state all of our sins and at the end, were taught to say, “I am sorry for all my sins and those I MAY have forgotten? Was that a confession loophole?

Workout: play with your kids today, they will LOVE it.