Tag: family

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Who’s on your prayer list?

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #14

While at Publix Grocery Store, I struggled to read the back of an oat milk bottle (holding it as far away as my arm would reach), and a neighbor stopped to say hi. “I have to do the same thing,” she said laughing at my squinting. Mrs. Ross lives right around the corner from us but I honestly think the last time I saw her was in the same dairy aisle months ago. Her home overlooks the playground down the street and when we began sending our kids off to play on their own, I imagined Mrs. Ross would watch over them like a guardian angel the same way our neighbor across the street would when our kids walked to the bus stop alone. It truly takes a village and ours is stellar.

We chatted for a bit about the kids and how time flies. “It really does fly,” we agreed. We spoke about time flying as if we were the first to coin the catchy cliche. As the conversation ended, she said, “Before you go, my mom is turning 99 in August. Please pray she makes it to that day so we can have a party for her 100th!” Of course!

So I added her mom to my mental prayer list which also includes our dear friend who is aching for some relief from his cancer, and the seven-year-old at school whose hair is growing in so beautifully after her recurring cancer. I also prayed for peace in Ukraine and Gaza, the Pope, our dogs’ arthritic legs, and a successful college year-end for our three kids. Then for the good of the order, I used the script from my childhood God bless list: “And everyone in the whole wide world”. Never hurts.

What I learned:

Pray for them all.

Also, oat milk is just water, oats, and sea salt. And it tastes like water.

Here’s to Another Good Day,

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

More about Mom

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

40 Reflections – #13:  40 days of raw recollections during the Lenten Season

I began sewing when I was nine. Mom guided my sisters and me as we stitched everything from duffle bags and terry cloth shorts to Gunne Sax dresses. She was a champion of whatever we wanted to tackle. One year I had my heart set on making a very fashionable ribbon dress. As I pinned and matched every notch, I was sure everything would look just like the picture on the McCall’s pattern. I was wrong, and I quickly learned the importance of a “ripper” the handy tool used to take out stitches and start again, and again and again. My ruffled sleeves puckered in the wrong places, and I even sewed one on completely upside down. Another do-over. Then I sewed on the gazillion pastel ribbons unevenly, so Mom helped me try again. She reassured me and encouraged me through every misstep, letting me trip a little and then helping me up. She built my confidence one stitch at a time. 

I thought of this story the other day when Mom and I were making tortillas. The dough was a little sticky and Mom had the most gentle way of telling me the water I used to make them was too warm. She said, “Let’s see, did my recipe say warm water?” I reached into the cabinet for the weathered tortilla recipe she started using again to remind her about the 2 teaspoons of salt and baking powder. 

“Yes, Mom,  it says warm, not hot”, I replied. 

“Okay, well, maybe you discovered something new,” she said. 

“And look at all the different sizes of the tortillas! You know if you get the feel for how big each one will be, they’ll turn out the same size…but these are very colorful and creative.” 

It was like I was 12 years old again and mom was reassuring me that I could rip out the stitches and start again. Everything would be okay.

What I learned:

Moms are the best.

Here’s to Another Good Day.

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Mom’s Dementia

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

40 Reflections – #12:  40 days of raw recollections during the Lenten Season

I’m not sure when we transitioned from the word “forgetting” to Dementia when referring to Mom’s sweet mind. “My memory is not so great anymore,” she’ll say. My three sisters and I learned tips to lessen her pain of not remembering. Things like: Don’t start a sentence with “Remember when…” or ask”What did you eat for breakfast?” or “How many teaspoons of salt in tortillas?” It’s a process. My sisters are pros; I, on the other hand, plop in for intermittent visits and say the wrong things, but in that sense, dementia will work its black magic and present her mind with a clean slate.

I wrote a few quick essays about my most recent trips to see my parents, which I’ll share here. They are simply passing moments in my experience with them. Now 86 and 89 years old, they have been married 65 years next month. I reminded them separately of the milestone date, and they both had the same reaction, “That’s all!!!!?”

Here’s to Another Good Day with Mom and Dad

Wednesday 11:00 pm –

I arrived home late, too late for Mom to understand it was me, so I led with my blanket line, “It’s your daughter Lucretia”. I realized there was a good chance she was too exhausted to get it because sleep is critical for every age and in all functioning. They were clearly exhausted. Dad was trying to run out and give our friends who picked me up from the airport carne seca (jerky), but they had already headed home. Dad just wants to thank and give and be a part of the world. When your mind rarely rests, like his, activity and social stimulation are healing.

It’s sobering helping your mom figure out which end of the toothbrush gets the paste because now toothbrushes are huge or helping her find the back of her PJs. This is the same mom who could solve the puzzle of Simplicity sewing patterns, notches, and all. She could sew anything, measure, adjust, and add zippers, ruffles, and sleeves with ease. She’s my hero. She wanted 10,000 times more of what she had for us. And by God, she made it happen. Looking back, I bet with every application she typed (real-deal typed) for us, whether for a college, scholarship, award, or 4-H whatever, she probably thought, you know what, these girls are going to devour this world and spit it out when they are done. Totally crush it. 

What I learned:

Dementia stinks. But I am so grateful for every visit to see my parents.

Here’s to Another Good Day – even the tough ones.

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia


Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

What lies under our piles of worry?

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

(Spoiler Alert: It’s Love)

40 Reflections – #11:  40 days of raw recollections during the Lenten Season

Lately, I’ve been worrying about stuff. Mom stuff, kid stuff, work stuff, parent stuff. As a cock-eyed optimist, I try to focus on only worrying about 8-10 things at once. It’s not easy when my mind spins like a kid on a Ferris wheel who just ate 3 funnel cakes. A little joyful a little nauseous. I worry about retirement, Medicaid, cholesterol, my parents, taxes, heaven, hell, you name it. A new worry is what if it’s my time to go and God is in a cranky mood and brings up that trigonometry test I may or may not have cheated on and still got a C?

At work, first graders are constantly worried about equal turns, cheating, and name-calling and think if they holler “It’s not fair!” all things will go their way. Maybe if we voiced our qualms like kids and yelled our fears into a megaphone the world would nod aggressively in agreement, give a thumbs up, and you’ll say “Aha! I knew I wasn’t alone!”

What I learned:

Worries are valid, but after all the worrying, you move forward, listen to John Lennon sing about everything being okay in the end, take one step, then another, and breathe. You slow down.

You find that when the wall of worry falls brick by brick, underneath it all sat love waiting patiently…and you saved it from being smothered.

Ending with a favorite…

Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, is not pompous,
it is not inflated, it is not rude, it does not seek its own
interests, it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood
over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but
rejoices with the truth.
It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things,
endures all things.
Love never fails.
1 Corinthians 12:31-13:8a

Here’s to Another Good Day.

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Angels Among Us

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

#9 – Lenten Reflections – 40 Raw reflections during the Lenten Season

A few weeks ago I went to visit my parents. I’m the youngest of four girls and my parents, now 86 and 89 require more caretaking these days. Before I left, I let my students know I was going for a few days to take care of my parents. As always, I tried to weave a life lesson into why I needed to go. I excel in overexplaining.

I began, “You see your parents take care of you now and then someday when they get older, you’ll take care of them. Also, my mom is having cataract surgery.” Suddenly there were a few connections to the word surgery. “Ohhhh…my mom had surgery on her knee!”

“My dog had special surgery too! Wait, what is surgery?”

“Can we play the chair game or do a scavenger hunt?”

The subject change sounded a lot like my own children’s strategy. Abort! Eject! Way too much information. I lost them in the life lesson.

Maybe some of the first graders were listening…either way, they knew where I’d be out for a few days. I’m sure they jotted it on their Google calendars. Ha.

After my return to school, class began like any other Monday. First grade came in bustling, loud, and joyful. As the kids took off their jackets and found their spots on the rug, Reagan, a bright-eyed girl, strode over, looked directly at me, and asked, “How are your parents?”

Tears welled up in my eyes. I was floored by her sincerity. I hugged her, thanked her, and told her they were doing well. They are just older. But I’m so lucky to have them. “Oh good,” she said. I spoke to her like I would an old confidant. One of those gem friends where you can pick up right where you left off. An angel with a high ponytail wearing a plaid skirt and a blue polo shirt.

Reagan skipped off, plopped down on the carpet and immediately reached over to the friend next to her and began tying his shoes for him. Another boy chimed in, “She ties mine too. I mean my dad is trying to teach me at home but Reagan ties mine here.”

I shook my head and thought, wow…this six-year-old has more love in her heart than I’ve witnessed in years. Thank God for the Reagans in the world.

What I learned:

Some people, no matter their age see a great need. They load up bottles of water in their cars and hand them to the thirsty, one soul at a time.

They start small. Maybe check on a friend, listen to someone’s story, tie a shoe.

Simple gifts are empathy. Simple gifts are healing. Simple gifts mean never leaving anyone out. Jesus didn’t. Even Judas got a place at the table.

Here’s to another good day. Please pray for a quick recovery for the Pope.

Thank you for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Sometimes it’s the running partners with four legs that keep your pace steady and your heart strong…

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

40 Lenten Reflections #6 – a daily raw recollection during the Lenten Season

Ever since I was young, I’ve pined for the feeling of safety. The warmth and security a robin feels when it buries its head under its wing to stave off the bitter cold. I crave comfort and abhor fear. I was once told (yes, by a therapist), that my personal tendency is to place myself in situations that are not safe because I yearn to conquer this panic. Moving to DC on my own, running at night, living in India where I traveled alone, and sleeping on the beach in Mexico by myself (with several mosquitos). These were all experiences I chose to help strengthen my being, or so I thought. Then one cold day in January 1994, a jet-black puppy with ears as soft as satin, spirited eyes, and a gentle soul found me and pledged to keep me safe. It was a non-verbal promise, but as soon as we became family, a sense of relief, happiness, and belonging ensued.

Now it was me and Misty living in DC running at night, together. In a sense, she carried me through adulthood and gave me the courage to try things that were new, daring, and at times not too bright. She’d wait for me in the car at night if I had to run to the store, she’d linger for hours while I worked double shifts and was ready to jump in the car at 3:00 am so we could find a parking space across the street at “the far lot” and we’d run back together. She caught my tears, listened when I had to talk, and sat next to me while I went for a drive, ears flapping in the wind.

I’ve been on a lot of walks and runs in my life. Some with friends with whom you share your latest triumphs or queries; others with family where you talk about growing up, religion, or maybe even politics – if you’re careful. Being outside with someone – or alone, whether walking or running is a time when a bond is formed.  After running with Misty, my brain always thought more clearly, and my soul felt more alive.  She ran with me, ahead of me, next to me, jumped in Rock Creek, and powered up the rocks back on the trail to finish our run. I was always leery to let her run off-leash thinking she’d decide to really catch the squirrel this time — once I even thought I’d lost her, but on that snowy day in Maryland, she was out running with deer in a field as happy as could be.  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, she would have missed out on all of those moments dogs need to thrive and be alive.

Then, when Misty was 17, I had to let her off her leash, literally and figuratively. My running partner needed to rest. As mournful as it was, it was the right thing to do. Our children were five, seven, and eight years old then and were very attached to her, so we went to the backyard and spent a few minutes with Misty before we took her to the vet. The breeze was strong that Saturday in February as we all prayed, cried, and gazed into her eyes one last time.

What I learned:

“Having a good dog is the closest some of us are ever going to come to knowing the direct love of a mother or God.” —Anne Lamott, Small Victories

Misty was a good one.

Thank you for joining me,

Lucretia

Please pray for the Pope.

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Empty nest, empty yard

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Hanging onto the memories

Lenten Reflections #4 – Raw recollections during the Lenten Season

While weeding in the yard today I walked over to our kid-size picnic table, purchased at a yard sale years ago. We had just moved from DC to Georgia and the little gem was the perfect addition to our new yard. Blue paint on the table peeked through the two layers of a glossy red shade we used to cover it over the years. It sat there tired as an old oak tree – enduring, yet vulnerable to heat and the many visitors who had rested on its wood. It needed some love, so plank by plank, I scraped off the old paint and tightened all of the rusty screws. I thought back to the sunny lunches at the table with the kids, the obstacle courses they’d create jumping over the table to the finish line. Easter eggs were found tucked in a bottom corner, our dogs slept in its shade, and freshly carved pumpkins perched on it every Halloween. Our own version of the Giving Tree. I brushed it off, convincing myself I’d get back to its restoration sooner than later. It held a zillion memories and I felt like just maybe I could preserve them with some sandpaper and more paint.

The sun was setting so we took the dogs for a walk. On the way, we stopped to visit with a few neighbors who were out piddling in their yards. Around the corner was “the big candy house” duly named because the sweet couple always gave the kids full-size candy bars on Halloween. We chatted with the dad about a few trees he had to have taken down. “They were childhood trees,” he said. The kids even named one Blossom, it stood right there. He swept his arm toward an empty spot in the yard as if he were painting a quick replica of Blossom in his mind. He continued, “But, we had to take it down, then came the basketball hoop. It was sad, but, it was time.” He stood a little taller, “Well, we’re all getting older, so it’s okay. It’s what happens”. On the way home we saw one of our dearest friends who jokingly asked us if we wanted the truck in her driveway. She just wanted to get rid of it but her husband has an emotional attachment to it…and all his boys’ baseball gear filling the garage. It all sounded so familiar. The lessening was all around us.

What I learned:

I’ve always pondered the kids’ memorabilia within the four walls of our home, the old uniforms, the artwork, and the trophies. Then that darn picnic table stirred up my emotions, followed by Blossom the tree, and the truck. Nostalgia is triggering. But time scoots off like a chuckling cheetah and we have a choice – to sink into the quicksand of loss or relish the memories, plant new trees, and repaint that cute picnic table.

Please pray for the Pope and thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Parenting Connections – Why is bonding so beneficial?

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

40 Reflections – #3:  40 days of raw recollections during the Lenten Season

When our children were younger, I would accompany them to birthday parties, playdates, practices, and other events and watch, wait, and chat with other parents. I loved connecting, it was like I would imagine the old Eharmony but for parents. A time to find your tribe of trusted moms and dads, then ever-so-carefully pick a few who relate to your cheeky humor, and pray your kids and theirs are in the next room bonding over a juice box.

As our kids aged, I noticed parents would leave these events, and return at the “pick-up time”.  I always opted to stay, plopping down on the ground, cherishing my chats with the few other parents who would sit in their comfy cup-holding canvas chairs (such a great invention).  Sure, sometimes, I was the mom who brought a book that other parents respectfully knew meant – whoever holds the book has just put themselves in a quiet, parental time out, a virtual “do not disturb sign”. That was rare. I needed to chat, commiserate about the losses, and celebrate the wins.

As the kids got a little older there was another shift. Either I grew more confident (or less patient waiting) and would go for a run while they practiced. As long as I was within a mom’s stone’s throw between them, I felt I could still get to them and perform CPR as needed. Of course, I was always happy to get in a run, but I missed the parent-share conversations… those words exchanged between parents that only the gap of time when our children are engaged with their friends allowed.

One night, all three of our children had events simultaneously, and a tough moment ensued.  Clearly, we had to pick our least favorite child, leave them at their designated practice, and accompany the others.

Kidding. Our eldest was the default, and since some nights I was the lone mom hanging out for the two hours at swim practice anyway, I figured she’d be okay while I took our son to baseball practice. As I drove away, of course thinking the worst, it was one of the few times I was grateful our daughter had a phone. Plus, at baseball, there were other helicopter parents like myself to share best practices, a clear bonus. It all worked out.

What I learned:

Our children’s activities, whether we realize it or not, give us a chance to pause and discover we are not the only ones bouncing around blindly in this parenting pinball game. While our kids solidify their friendships at birthday parties or discover they truly despise dancing in toe shoes (my daughter), we are given the gift of connection to share our stories with other parents and listen to theirs.

Back then, I remembered feeling the weight of parenting lightened knowing I wasn’t the only parent who…

  • yelled at my children and regretted it profoundly seconds after
  • colored my gray roots at home out of a box
  • cursed at Siri when she doesn’t listen
  • never checked pockets before doing laundry
  • considered cereal dinner
  • took apart the washing machine, found the penny bonking around, and ended up with extra screws when reassembling
  • stayed up way too late listening to our children’s worries that only bubbled up at bedtime
  • wiped the tears from our children’s eyes, and our own when their hearts were broken
  • prayed our children would find their best friend
  • forgot to pick up their child at school/practice/Sunday School
  • delivered their child’s forgotten homework to school
  • bought bras at Costco (“one size fits most”)
  • panicked about working after years of staying home with the kids
  • clutched onto their children –  as someone who is way too young died in a car accident, from a health complication, or God forbid — inside their school.

Our children are now all in college, but the bonds with those parents from the little league field, mountain biking trails, pool, and dance studio have stayed strong. Simply allowing ourselves to be transparent, and investing in relationships makes us better parents. It takes pluck to be vulnerable, but there is courage in the imperfect, strength in sharing, and certainty in the uncertain.

Dig Deep:  Time your run (or walk briskly), then challenge yourself to do the same thing faster tomorrow.

Lenten Challenge:  “Give feet to your faith”. Feed the hungry, pray for the sick, and share your grace with everyone who crosses your path.

Pope Health Update: VATICAN CITY, March 7 (Reuters) – Three weeks to the day after being admitted to Rome’s Gemelli hospital, Pope Francis is still struggling to shake off the double pneumonia that has battered his already fragile health.

Please pray for the Pope.

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Cultivating Selflessness

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

#2 Lenten Reflections

The other day I was waiting to board my flight to Atlanta and overheard an anxious young woman discuss her seat location with her husband. She held a frothy coffee in one hand and phone in the other, and nervously said, “The agent said I’d have to wait until I was on the plane to change seats. I let her know I just can’t sit in an exit row. Not with all the recent flight accidents. It’s not my turn, I am not the person to sit in that seat…not this time.” I watched as her husband sat silently, nodding in agreement.

I settled into the comfy, leather-like seat at the Albuquerque airport and pondered her words. “It’s not my turn.” I applauded her honesty and clarity in knowing what she could and could not handle. But when is it our turn? When do we raise our hands to help another, give the Heimlich maneuver to someone choking, or save the child running into the road? Are some people just innately selfless?

Richard Lui, is a journalist and author of  Enough About Me: The Unexpected Power of Selflessness where he explored self-sacrifice as he cared for his father with Alzheimer’s. Along with practicing acts of kindness and showing gratitude, Lui recommends building selflessness muscles. Muscle memory is what helps us remember how to swing a bat or ride a bike. So training your brain to choose others over yourself will build up your selflessness muscles.

My Connection…

Years ago, one of my three older sisters retired from her job after 30 years as a software engineer to care for our parents. She didn’t take a big trip around the world to celebrate her successful career or become a master gardener, she and her husband simply sold their home and moved closer to Mom and Dad. All four of us pitch in, but as the primary caretaker, she is the driver, the contact for the doctors, the shopper, the organizer, the constant in their lives that brings them the comfort of knowing they can make it through today and tomorrow. I have never known someone so incredibly selfless and generous. There are 53 million Americans who are caretakers in the United States, and she is one of those saints who has a special place in heaven just for her.

So whether you’re ready to brave the exit row today or on your next flight, give a little bit of yourself.

Pope Health Update: According to the Vatican, he “remained stable compared to previous days” and did not have “episodes of respiratory insufficiency”. Please pray for him.

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

40 Days – Journeying together

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #1

Nine years ago, I decided to ditch giving up chocolate or coffee during Lent and instead, track my 40 days right here. Since then, I’ve shared little snippets of life – the messy, funny, daunting, and unpredictable moments I experience or observe. My hope is that anyone who reads this will connect and learn something on the journey because people’s stories spark emotion, and emotion sparks memory, and if you’re like me, my memory needs as much spark as it can get.

As I begin Lent each year, I am inspired by the words of Pope Francis, who, as of today, is in stable condition and will be put back on a ventilator tonight after spending the day in his armchair.

So as I prayed for him, I found his Lenten message focused on journeying together tender and true:

“Journeying together means consolidating the unity grounded in our common dignity as children of God (cf. Gal 3:26- 28). It means walking side-by-side, without shoving or stepping on others, without envy or hypocrisy, without letting anyone be left behind or excluded. Let us all walk in the same direction, tending towards the same goal, attentive to one another in love and patience. This Lent, God is asking us to examine whether in our lives, in our families, in the places where we work and spend our time, we are capable of walking together with others, listening to them, resisting the temptation to become self-absorbed and to think only of our own needs.”

Let’s start this journey and focus on what brings us joy, what drives us crazy, and what brings tears to our eyes. Personally, some days I feel like I’m the only one whose back hurts every time I stand up or am the lone mom whose nest is empty, and I just want to bring them all back and hear the laughter or yelling or random singing in the shower. I know I’m not alone, and neither are you.

So, here we go. Forty days, full speed ahead!

Thanks for being here with me,

Lucretia