Gratefully Yours

We chatted about this and that. We told him about our town of Hot Springs...the struggles, the joys and everything in between.

He was the manager of the Olive Garden restaurant and had stopped at our table because our waiter had passed on Bob's complaint about his meal. At first the dark, handsome, young manager had offered Bob's meal at no charge. We thought it was most gracious of him.

One thing led to another and we spent a lengthy time in conversation until he was paged to another part of the restaurant. In a few minutes our waiter returned to our table and Bob asked for our check.

"There is none. You both get a free meal."

"But my meal was fine." I told him.

"That doesn't matter. The manager said he enjoyed his talk with you so much that he wants to offer you both a meal on the house."

What a treat!  Of course we will return to the Olive Garden when we are back in Rapid City. Such generosity is not unappreciated, and we, too, enjoyed our pleasant exchange.

Two Sisters

She was an only child, bringing a lifetime of joy to her doting parents. They spoiled her, but she was not spoiled. She was generous, thoughtful, caring and loving. When she married, spending her life teaching and being a master teacher because of her excellence, her parents moved from their long time home to be close to the daughter who they adored. Throughout their lifetimes she shared her life with them and at the end of her mother's life she shared her lengthy decent into Alzheimers. She was always there for her parents. As their only child they were most fortunate to have had her in their lives.

She had two daughters that she doted on, encouraging them to follow their talents and their dreams. One became an excellent teacher, working with those children with special needs. The oldest one became at the top of her field in various industries, moving around the world to advance to the top, sought after by many companies.

Her youngest daughter lived near her mother, finally recognizing that her mother needed long term care. It was a painful decision but she moved her mother from assisted living, to a memory care unit until recently when her mother is receiving hospice care.

Both daughters were at her side when she went to the hospital, the eldest traveling from the east coast to share time with her mother.

Yesterday I received a call from one of the daughters. "My mother is in Hospice and they predict that she has six months to live. Can we call you tomorrow and you can talk to her? She may not remember much from the present, but she does remember you through the cards you send each month."

This morning I talked with my friend, the one who has been my friend the longest. After our brief conversation, her familiar cheerful voice brought back a flood of memories.I remembered when we became fast friends in junior high. She was younger than I was but we clicked in every way. We shared our hopes and struggles, double dated and had secret gatherings with friends at her house when her parent were both away.

After high school we both went on to college and careers and husbands, moving miles apart, but always keeping contact through phone, letters and visits. We continued to share about our spouses, children, careers and struggles, loves, hopes and joys.

She had her share of difficulties during her life. She lost her parents and then her husband at an early age. She suffered a life altering car accident, having been left with burns that required plastic surgery. She had the usual pain and pride of a any parent watching her two daughters grow, make mistakes and changes in their lives. She touched the lives of many young children through her thoughtful, patient teaching.

Now as the end draws near she has two daughters who look after her and care for her. I said to the youngest today, "Your mother is lucky to have you."

She responded quickly, "We are lucky to have her."

I guess it does work both ways. She, as an only daughter, shared her care and love with her parents. Today her daughters do the same for her. Her life has come full circle, but I still cry for my oldest friend. When she leaves our shared memories will be gone. In her case they have been fading for the past year. That will leave me alone to remember.

Giving vs Taking

Wealth? No
Fame? No
Indulgence? No

None of the above are a path to happiness. In time all of them turn sour unless they are used to help or encourage others on their journey through life. If you search through religious or philosophical beliefs through time, they all conclude with the same message of hope: "love others as yourself."

In a strange way it seems if one loves oneself, that love flows out to those who share time and space in this world. Today even the health gurus are spreading the word that not only exercise and a healthy diet are crucial to a long and vigorous life, but social connections are as important.

Living solitary loses its luster. Connecting with others and giving of time to the needs of others brings a happiness in return to the giver that cannot be reached through wealth, fame or self-indulgence. Ask a volunteer. They know about giving and its rewards.

Giving brings so much more in return than self medicating through drugs or self absorption. Yet in today's world we have become addicted to instant gratification through our smart phones or the internet.

So when the police stop a driver who is on the cell phone he/she responds with "I know this is dangerous while driving, but I just had to find out who was texting me."

Or, "I couldn't wait until I saw the doctor. I had to take the drug for instant pain relief or a flight from the real world."

Or, "I just have to answer my phone even though we are together in a restaurant. After all, the world will fall apart without my instant response."

Or, "I know you called me first, but I have call waiting and the one who called me after you is more important than you, so I will call you back."

And on and on it goes. Life gets faster, colder and less connected. It is all about me, me, me! There is no room for you. Yes, the internet is a great way to connect with others in a casual sense and if face-to-face is impossible, but real, heartfelt connections come through a direct eye-ball, hand shake, hug, look at my expression relationship.

Giving of me to you through my time and caring, be it over food, in the steam room, on the steps of the post office, over the back yard fence, it does not matter. What matters is me to you directly, with patience and love.

Hey world, I must remind myself, "love me and love you. Enough of I, I, I and more of you, you, you! In this sped up world in which I often get stuck, please nudge me toward taking time for both me and for you."

A Moment of Her Time

"We were almost chased by some buffalo when we were riding through Wind Cave. We know they are dangerous."

The three bikers were from Texas, enjoying our Black Hills while consciously avoiding the high traffic and prices of the Sturgis Rally.

As we were standing outside Shopko, chatting about the beauty of our Hills and the warmth of the people in Hot Springs, a short, dark-haired lady interrupted.

"Excuse me. Are you Mary GGGG?"

She was trying to say my last name so I quickly responded that I was Mary Goulet.

"I thought I recognized you. You are the author that wrote that book."

"Which one of my books are you referring to?"

"The one about the Cascade fire. My father read that book and he wants to come here to Hot Springs to see all of the places you wrote about. He loves your book. I just wanted you to know that."

With that she walked off before I had time to even say my thanks properly. Her interruption was so sudden and unexpected that I stuttered something, not sure what.

In hindsight I regret not talking with her more. She went out of her way to tell me about her father and my book. This was one of those times, a moment of her time, to show appreciation for my work, and I blew it. So wherever this woman is, hopefully through this blog, she will know that I do appreciate her words, and because of this brief interruption, I will not be so casual in my words of thanks to those who have touched my life in some way.

Life is too short. Words are too special to waste.

Smile

Tourists who notice love the friendliness of this small town. And we remember when we first moved here how impressed we were by the kindness of strangers, who, by this time, are no longer strangers.

We stopped at the local bank to open an account. It was 4:30 and they were just closing their doors.

"Come on in" said the smiling employee. "It's okay, we can stay open for you."

And they did and we opened an account at this bank, which we still have to this day, 18 years later.

Another employee was mopping the floor. A customer who was a rancher, with all that accompanies his boots after a day with his cattle, had just left the bank before our late arrival.

"It's just one of our services" said the mopper with a pleasant smile to us. "We often do this after a rancher leaves so that we renew the pleasant odor for the next customer."

This bank did this back then and they do this to this day as needed. As they said, "It is just one of our services that we provide in this rural ranching community."

Tonight Bob and I stopped at our favorite local restaurant. As we walked in a couple was just leaving, and as they walked by I smiled at the wife and Bob smiled at the husband. Within seconds the man stopped our waiter and said, "I want to pick up the tab for this couple."

I was stunned. I did not recognize the man or his wife. He turned to my husband and said, "You just made my day with your friendly smile. I insist on paying for your meal."

And he did.

We sat for a few minutes in astonished silence and then I asked Bob "Do you know that man?"

"Never saw him before."

The waiter joined in. "I think they are tourists. I never saw them before, but I think they are from Texas."

I can only guess that they are not as friendly where he comes from in Texas. Maybe he had a bad day and our smiles renewed his faith in humanity. Whatever, we may never know for certain, but this I do know, always smile at a stranger. You have nothing to lose either way. A smile costs nothing, takes a second of your time and may just make the day turn around for that stranger who briefly touches your life.

Connections

Remember the TV sitcom Cheers, "where everybody knows you name?" Maybe the bar is not the best place for connecting with others, but for many, that is their world.

For others there are jobs, family members, churches, civic and social groups that offer support systems, but retirement, death, divorce, job changes all take their toll on a social life and eventually many of us find our world shrinking with fewer of those contacts that made our life richer and healthier.

We all know the routine: the benefits of exercise, a balanced diet and staying involved. Aging does not imply sitting in front of the TV or computer all day, but rather movement, movement and more movement, be it running, biking, swimming, yoga, walking, lifting weights, dancing or whatever....just keep moving....often and regularly.

We in Hot Springs, SD are fortunate to have opportunities, no matter the weather, for movement, and, surprise, surprise, for making those most important social connections. Of course Evans Plunge offers exercise equipment, a walking route, a pool filled with natural spring waters and a health club for the aching muscles. What is not promoted or touted in any manner is the opportunity for socializing, so vital to well-being. Where does this happen? In the small area filled with heat. The hot tubs, sauna and steam rooms offer endless possibilities for vigorous or casual conversations and, after a time, friendships with some regular members.

I don't fancy bars, my job is long retired, family members and former friends have passed on, (my Christmas card list has grown shorter each year), my children have pursued jobs several states away, friends have dispersed to far-away places, (as have I) but new contacts keep rising to help me stay involved with life and also the intimacy and warmth of the health club at our local community fitness center offers opportunities for cultural exchanges with tourists from Austria or interactions with members who prefer to frequent a health club to sitting at a local bar.

                                                   Cheers for our health club...where many know your name!

It's Nice to be Missed

An email appeard as I was working on a speech to be given at the Golden Valley Country Club in the Twin Cities next weekend. The writer said that he wondered if my computer had crashed again since I had not written a blog for a while.

I looked back. Wow! Was it really that long? I have not taken a few minutes to write a blog and my computer is back working. I also got a new printer. So, no excuses, except life seems to get in the way of living at times.

What is the saying, "Take time to smell the flowers?"

I must learn to say no to some things. Actually, I did say no to a trip back to the Cities to speak at a founder's banquet. I feel badly, since I am one of the founders of the organization that began twenty years ago and I really love to give speeches. I weighed the pros and cons, and the cons to going won out. Making a video will entail a few hours. Attending and presenting would involve several days.

The email was a jolt. I stopped working on my speech and turned to my blog. It is really a special feeling to receive a message that my writing is missed. I also got another email from a high school friend from Ely, Minnesota, who now reads my blog. She writes,  ....beautiful thoughts....As I read I could smell the wet wool and remember the snow tunnels that were everywhere. The snow was deeper then and the banks were higher. It's good to reminisce.

Emails such as these are special moments. My friend from Minnesota has a way with words. She could write a blog as well, or better, than I. Many people could and would, if the opportunity presented itself. Everyone has something to say, some  more eloquently than others, but everyone has a story. If only everyone told that story. Today, with the internet, more have the opportunity to express themselves. Back in our day, we kept journals. Most were lost or hidden away, but the important thing was that our thoughts were put down on paper, at times for others, but always for ourselves.

Thank you, Tom and thanks, MJ. Words connect us, although we are miles apart.

The Annual Countdown

We came around the corner of the store pushing a cart. There was the sign - Ten Shopping Days Until Christmas!

Ten shopping days left. I had given only passing thoughts to the holiday, being absorbed in my many volunteer activities. But the countsown sign reminded me that I had personal tasks...gift wrapping, card writing and overall unwinding before the holidays. It was time to pause for personal reflection and a re-charge of my batteries.

I began my yearly connections with old and new friends. As I wrote cards,  the music from the radio was interrupted by a shocking news story. I had long learned to tune out "fiscal cliff" arguments, waiting for the final decisions, but this story gripped me along with the rest of our country.

Another tragedy for so very many because of the demons in one lost soul. After the intial shock and conflicting details, the news was filled with the same old gun control issues. It was to be expected, as always, after a mass killing. This time the tone was sharper, but the extremes came gushing out....from "ban everything" to "arm the teachers".

It made me pause. Do you suppose the next step will be "arm the kids?" This may sound ridiculous but I have lived through a lifetime of extremes in our culture. Where is the middle?....."in medio", as my old Latin teacher would say. We cannot seem to really listen to the "others", foreign to our view of the world. Getting into their skin, walking around in it for a while, might, just maybe, bring us closer to agreements that would work, and smooth out the rugged paths of our lifetimes.

Meanwhile, some things never change. I find comfort in rituals that remind me of safer times and places, devoid of violent television, computer games, and the constancy of the noise of instant communication. It is no wonder that the photo of Mr. Rogers went viral in no time. It seems that other people yearn for the presence of a man who exemplifies calm, understaning, acceptance and warmth.

There are only a few days remaining until a holiday with familiar carols, rituals, family, friends, feasting, and, hopefully, acceptance of the best of who we are and who we are becoming.

Mr. Rogers, you touched many children and adults. May your words of comfort remain with us long after this holiday, this crisis, and during conflicts to come. You taught us that safety lies within.

Taking the Time

We were in Rapid City yesterday and while there we stopped at Menards. I went to the back room to see if I could find a small plant for a certain window. Bob discovered an interesting plant and the perfect size. The problem was that it was the only one left in an almost impossible spot to reach. I was struggling to get it down when suddenly an elegantly dressed woman of mature age came by and offered to help. She began taking large plants off of the lower and middle shelves so that Bob could step on the bottom shelf to reach my chosen plant. When he brought it down the woman admired the strawberry begonia plant, commenting on its many possibilities.

"Do you work here?" I asked, impressed by her kindness. I was not surprised when she replied in the negative. After all, she was dressed to the tees, as if she was going to attend an important banquet. She chuckled at my question, said her goodbyes and moved on, out of our lives.

It was a brief encounter, but it reminded me sharply of the importance of taking time...time for pleasures, for connections, for relaxing, for helping others not on our list or agenda for the day.

I am often advised by my husband that I too often am rushing to here or there, saying "I gotta, I must, I should, I have to". My thoughts or words could change to "I want to, I may, I would like..."

That special lady from Rapid City took time out of her busy schedule to help this little old lady purchase the plant she desired. I did not have to have it, she did not have to stop and help, but she did. I was impressed by her giving of her time, and her interest. She moved on, our of our lives, but she lives on in my thoughts of gratititude and reminders to "stop and smell the flowers" on life's journey.

This is a busy time of year, but I will remember.

A Memorial Gathering

On a very blustery day in our 100 acre woods (Hot Springs, South Dakota), an intimate group gathered at our public library to remember one of the active contributors to our community. It was at noon, lunch was served and close friends shared memories of the woman who had unexpectedly and suddenly died among her flowers and garden that she passionately tended each year.

A memorial service was held earlier, but this gathering was a dedication of a brick laid in the libray patio, and a time to reflect on an artistic life which had many years of influence on the arts in the area.

Stories were shared, both funny and poignant. It was most refreshing and hopeful to hear the strengths and weaknesses of another human being. It was a reminder that we all have our good sides, as well as our dark parts. This person, as most of us, was flawed, but grew and made the most of her gifts. What more can we ask of ourselves? And how much will we accept the totality, the light, as well as the dark, of those who share our lives?

Autumn, Welcome, Autumn

It was not only the first day of autumn, but a gorgeous one, to boot. My energy level was high as I scurried around doing the chores best left for that perfect fall day. I was highly motivated to transplant all of my indoor plants for the winter, shop for larger planters to accomodate those plants that are becoming root bound in last years pots, purchase and arrange the bird seed in the shed for easy access during the blustery days, and, in my eagerness to be prepared, I even put out my suet feeder usually left for the chilly November days.

The feeling of satisfaction is always there in late September as I stand by the stove cooking up my first pot of chili for the season. Somehow chili always tastes at its prime on the first day of autumn after a summer hiatus of salads and grilled meats.

New neighbors have just moved in. I saw them painting, cleaning, hauling and dumping. They must be exhausted. I told Bob that he should bring some chili over. It is one of my comfort foods and perhaps it will be restorative to them. Bob responded, "That is so old-fashioned to bring food over to new neighbors."

Well, maybe I am old-fashioned. I have that right since I have lived for eight decades. My mother always greeted new neighbors with a friendly hot dish and homemade baked bread. But I suppose in those days neighbors were around for many years and spent more time on their front porches and chatting over the fence with the folks next door. I know times have changed and we all spend more time isolated in front of our televisions, and on our computers and tweeting with our many unseen facebook friends, but down deep, part of me remains in that distant neighboorhood, along with my parents and our neighbors long gone, Mr. Rogers, Andy Griffith, and the Fonz. We knew everyone face to face, eye to eye, blemish to blemish, busybody to busybody and, most of all, helpful to helpful when the need arose.

The arrival of this new season reminds me that times have changed and much of it for the best, but I can still try to keep a spark of the warmth and graciousness of the old days around, maybe as more of a reassurance to me than to my new neighbors.

Last Night's Phone Call

Rewarding is a word I have not heard tossed around very much, and yet what can be more special than the feeling of being rewarded? Looking back I have experienced many rewards during my lifetime. Of course, in my work as a teacher and a counselor I have known the joy of opening minds to learning, growing, self-awareness, confidence, and on and on. Teaching and counseling both have their frustrations and failures, but they also have many, many satisfactions.

I am grateful to have been in two professions that have given me as much as I have given. It must be sterile and lonely working for money and status only. That work brings material things for sure, but for me, material stuff by itself is empty and unfulfilled.

During my retirement I began my latest profession of writing. I started writing because I finally found the time to do an activity that I had long enjoyed from the other side as a constant reader, and I soon discovered that it forced me to focus my thoughts and feelings that previously had only floated in the back burner of my mind.

It didn't take long to also get the rewards of my labor. I received notes, letters and phone calls from those that felt strongly about my writings. What a bonus! My work was affecting some of my readers, and, at times, influencing their lives.

Last night I had a phone call from a friend in the Twin Cities who recently began reading my book, "Cascade of Flames", and wanted to share his thoughts and feelings about the firefighters and evacuees involved in this disaster. I am busy on my next book about the veterans and rarely think of that last book, but he brought it back to focus for me, and I remembered warmly the many folks I had interviewed and how a natural disaster can change, and deepen lives forever.

Also, my friend brought my book to his place of business and was sharing it with his customers. That, dear friend, is the greatest of compliments. I hope you are reading this so you will know how deeply I appreciated your words and your gesture. Any writer will understand how I feel about last night's phone call. My wish is that all of you who struggle to put your thoughts on paper for others to read, will one day receive a call such as I did last night.

We Still Give Thanks

How could we give thanks this year? The town has problems, the state is struggling, the country is in a real mess, and most of the world is on the edge. The news is filled with negative after negative stories and images. We are inundated with economic, social, political and environmental concerns. How can we possibly be grateful with all of the homelessness, illness, conflicts, political rancor, disintegration of our cherished values, and other numerous problems in our world of today?

It is a puzzlement to me. The older I get, the less I seem to know. Caution, rather than certainty of my youth is more common to me. Black and white was certainly an easier way to view life. It was comfortable. The grey in life is not an easy companion. Any yet, it is only in the grey that I have learned to listen, wait, and be more open to other points of view.

The holidays are a time for friends to get together, share stories, worries, laughter and delicious food. These "time out" days are needed to help us get through the tougher ones trying to sort out truths and choices. Connecting with family, even at long distance, is another healer. A phone call on Thanksgiving was a reminder that I feel so much better when I recall positive thoughts. A relative called from the Cities to wish us a happy holiday. We talked about many things, and then he shared his concern that so many people today are using the system to cheat their way through life. He protested that he has always done the right thing, not sneaked around, and yet he is hurting by not being able to have all the things he wants in life. Yet he has married well, supports a family he is proud of, works overtime whenever possible, takes pride in his work, and feels no guilt about his life style. He has all his needs met, but not all of his wants.

His phone call jogged me from negative thinking and quickly built a bridge to thoughts of gratitude for myself, as well as for my nephew. He and his wife may not be able to take that wonderful cruise, or buy everything they want, but I have met many people who travel, buy everything they desire and they still complain, think only of themselves, and seem unhappy most of the time. When push comes to shove, they have nothing to dream about and seem to be missing the real things to be grateful for....others to care for, love and being loved in return.

Thank you, Tom. We love your calls and visits. And thanks to all of you who read my blog. I cherish your emails and calls. You open my world.

A Day for Reflecting

It's hard to believe, but our extraordinary daughter is celebrating another birthday, the one that begins winding down her years in her thirties. It seems like only yesterday we were observing her tenth year of life and her first one with us in the United States.  What a long distance this women has journeyed! At ten she spoke no English, had just arrived to a new family, a strange culture, a new way of life. During the years since then she finished her schooling, paying for it through her years serving her country. In a short time she rose swiftly to the rank of sergeant, completed her undergraduate degree while in the service, and used her GI bill to fund her graduate work after she left the military. She found a satisfying job that she loves, married a caring and open-minded fellow sergeant, bringing into our lives the son we never had, and, in time, two beautiful and gifted grandchildren who keep us young and curious.

Birthdays are a marker to remind us of the swiftness of time, and days to pause and reflect on the direction of our life. They are also a time to look back with gratitude at all the wonders that have surrounded the past years. They are a time for thanksgiving, rejoicing, reflecting and promising, but not a time for regrets. Life is too short. We all have regrets, failures and broken promises in our past. That is what makes us human, and perhaps more understanding of others. Also, hopefully, those same failures can be turned into new directions and time spent more richly, simply and in the present moment.

So happy birthday, daughter. You are a joy! Thank you for being you and including your husband and children in our family. Each birthday is a gift to us.

Final Reflections: We Are More Alike

Seven countries in one shot is a lot to take in. As I wrote in a previous blog, I have information overload, but details of all of these countries are readily available to anyone on the internet. I would like to write a couple of personal observations from my brief encounter with these new democracies of Eastern Europe.

In every country we visited there are scars left from many oppressors, but there are also signs of rebirth and hope for a better future. Many Eastern Europeans feel overwhelmed by the weight of new freedoms, mixed reactions to the European Union, and frustrations with their newly elected leaders, who may  differ from the old dictators, but remain ever constant in their juggling  for power, control and money. Over there, as here, people worry about corruption, minority inclusion, the economy, mortgage bankers, crooked politicians, the cost of living and unemployment. They want a better life for their children, pride in their heritage and hope for their future. It is a swiftly changing world, at times moving too fast for some of the older generation and, at times, too slowly for the impatient young.

We may be from different cultures but I felt more similarities than differences with people in these fledgling democracies in our hopes, fears and ambitions. One Romanian said to me "You will never really understand us. You have always lived in a democracy." He may be right, but I really believe that our commonness as human beings will, in the end, be our saving grace.