“Because thankfulness is the tonic that always cures the cancers of greed, envy and jealously, it should be taken in liberal doses daily.” ― Craig D. Lounsbrough

Most folks are as happy as they make their minds up to be~Abraham Lincoln

Read that statement again.

Now again.

Really consider it.  Are you happy?

I mulled that around in my brain as I was smiling at this nice morning I have planned. I am going to make cookies and clean the house with my soon to be 21 year old daughter, getting ready for her birthday, Christmas and her boyfriend's visit. I laughed at the thought. So simple, yet it made for such a perfect foundation for my day yesterday I was eager to repeat it today. 

Such an epiphany I had....This morning sounds too simple to make someone happy in today's day and age.  I am buying nothing fancy. Not doing anything over the top spectacular by anyone else's standards besides, well, my own.  This day went as well if not better than yesterday.

I had a terrible dream the other night.  I dreamt that we were homeless.  That we lost this house I have complained about for the last 12 years.  Yes, all 4000 or there abouts feet of it, including our third floor.  Yes, I complained about a house that has a third floor.  We had so many problems moving in here, both with construction and neighbors.  Things that I stubbornly and steadfastly have held on to.  So much so it got to the point that I hated it here.  All it took was one simple dream, and a couple of fun mornings with one of my girls, and that smacked my spoiled ass back to reality. How insanely fortunate am I?? Why have I missed this point for so freaking long???  No, it's not the fanciest house, in the fanciest neighborhood, but it is the home where I raise my family.  The home I saved how many homeless animals in?  The home where so many life altering events have occurred.  Some good, some bad, all survived with our family still intact and stronger for them.  The home that keeps us safe and warm, or cool, and protected.  How could I have been so foolish?

The morning after I had that dream, a very dear friend posted a video on his Facebook about the "Disease of More"  Talk about serendipity.  Talk about a video that hit me like a freight train...https://www.facebook.com/thehypenews/?pnref=story

It spoke to me, to my heart, to my brain still struggling with the awful dream I had.  I have been feeling like I am spinning on this giant hamster wheel of I need this!! Or I need that!!  I am here in my home, surrounded by things that many would just dream about, and still I wanted more.  I wasn't enjoying all that I had.  That needed to stop and stop now.  

I was becoming one of those people who try to buy happiness.  Whether it's through fancy cars, jewelry, pools, vacation homes, boats, whatever the possession might be, those people are running on my hamster wheel of I HAVE TO HAVE IT OR I WILL NEVER BE HAPPY.  Look at me!  Look at my fancy clothes, my fancy car, my fancy watch.  I must be doing well for myself, I must be happy right? You mad bro? You jealous bro??  But it begs the question are they happy?  My guess would be no. I know I wasn't. When I googled the question, "will being rich make me happy", I was surprised with the all of the articles stating that the answer is pretty much not necessarily.  That it is not material possessions that make us happy but experiences. 

This blurb from an article from the Motley Fool was very telling and made such sense to me:

Our appetite for self-destruction 

What's so wrong with relishing and embellishing the good? It's costly. Faulty emotional recall makes us do dumb things with our money, like buying cool new stuff that never quite satisfies.

In so many areas, we know when enough is enough. When we're healthy, we don't strive for extreme health. After a good meal, we're sated -- we don't order another filet mignon to augment our satisfaction.

Yet our "pause" button shorts out when it comes to money. The brief pick-me-up that accompanies a raise or windfall (think of it like a caffeine buzz) drives us to want more. We get a raise, spend it, adapt to our improved circumstances, and seek more money, working up a sweat on what University of Southern California economist Richard Easterlin calls the hedonic treadmill.

But somehow the happy-o-meter stays in the same place, or even slows down. Consider that the average American is less satisfied with life today than we were in the 1950s -- yet we earn twice as much (and, yes, that's adjusted for inflation). No wonder they never crown a winner of the rat race.

It would appear the answer is a resounding NO!

All of the sudden I am getting it.

I sat yesterday in our hot tub (yes we have a hot tub and I still was thinking of what next believe it or not) it was freezing outside.  One of those cold days where this sky is an unbelievable shade of blue, looking up at the sky that was a blue that reminds me of one of my daughter's eyes.  I looked over at my husband who sat across from me and I felt so sincerely blessed at that moment.  I have my sight, which with MS is never something I should take for granted.  I was able to appreciate the blue of the sky, appreciate how they remind me of the beautiful blue of my daughter's eyes. I was able to see this gorgeous guy that has been my husband for almost 27 years.  I could see the crinkles by his eyes because he was smiling too. Those crinkles that I have loved, because there is this genuine smile of happiness that goes with them.  I got it.  I felt like this moment from the Grinch....

My heart was swelling and I got it.  How could I have not seen this all before? Why did I miss out on enjoying this so much?  When we finally got out and came inside, I looked around my house and saw how beautifully it was decorated by my girls.  The scene brought me to tears as I truly appreciated all of the care and consideration that went into the decorating.  That I understood I was blessed to have the hot tub, Christmas decorations, a home that was warm after being jolted by the cold. I had a place to go to get warm, that was a safe haven that so many do not have any time of year.  

How could I be so stupid?

I couldn't wait to get back to making cookies with my girl, which we did later in the day.  Knotting those Italian Christmas cookies made me smile as I chattered away with her.  

This is good, this is all good.  

I am done with the Disease of More.  I am replacing it with the Disease of I am so lucky.  Or the Disease of being thankful for all I have.

I explained this all to my girls last night.  How lucky I have been feeling about everything.  How truly grateful I am.  I could see the truth in these statements making sense to them.  I could see it in their eyes.  I want them to celebrate all that they have instead of needing and wanting more thinking it will make them happy. 

I suddenly felt like that moment when the Grinch understands Christmas, He puzzled and puzzed till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. Maybe Christmas, he thought... doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas, perhaps... means a little bit more!

This is true of life too isn't it?  Happiness doesn't come from a store, it comes from within, it comes from sharing and loving and doing for others.  It comes during moments of grace when the sky is so blue it's almost blinding.  It comes when a little voice says, 'Mon Nee, 'mon, and his little hand grabs you to see what is so important in his world at that moment... It comes when you are greeted with a bunch of wagging tails too excited to see you after being gone five minutes. It comes when the man you love looks over at you and smiles his genuine smile and crinkles his eyes up.

I never want to forget this lesson I've been lucky enough to finally learn.

The Disease of More?  Nope, for me it's now the Disease of No More.  

“Do not indulge in dreams of having what you have not, but reckon up the chief of the blessings you do possess, and then thankfully remember how you would crave for them if they were not yours.” 

― Marcus Aurelius  

When I die I hope to go to heaven, where ever the hell that is.....Ayn Rand

I am sure if you're a Walking Dead fan you've seen the new episode that has everyone talking. There is one line from a particularly heart wrenching scene that keeps popping up in my head. The one where Glen just had his head bashed by Lucille, eyeball popping out, him reaching for his beloved Maggie and trying to form the words "I will find you".  That moment stuck with me, not for the eye ball popping gore, although that does make me nauseous to this moment, but the sentiment. I will find you.

It made me think, could he? Would he find her after he crossed to the next level of existence? Would he watch over his pregnant love? Would he wait for her on the other side? Would they find each other someday? So many questions. 

It brought me to the question my husband asked me right before his dad passed, after every thing he witnessed, "I wonder what it's like? Dying, I wonder what happens". 

My knee jerk reaction is well as a Catholic, I believe that we go to heaven if we are truly repentant. That there is this mass of souls floating somewhere and hopefully we will find each other there. But then I think about my friends who don't believe like I do. 

Where do they go?  What happens to them?  I know every belief system has something they adhere to with end of life issues.  Do we all meet up and have an amazing end of life party??

I sometimes question my beliefs though.  If there really is an after life, why isn't there someone who came back?  To tell us they're ok. Come floating down, harp in tow to tell us what happens. To not be afraid.  Brad said maybe you can't. But that begs the question why not? I mean if you're a spirit and floating around why not? 

After my dad died, right after we came back home from NY, one morning while I was particularly missing him, and everything was still pretty fresh and raw, I found a penny on my bedroom floor. A pretty unremarkable event in itself, but what was remarkable was the date on the penny. It was minted in 1939. The year my father was born. Odd coincidence no?  Was this my dad's small way of letting me know that he had indeed crossed into the afterlife.  That he was truly ok?  Or what about my dream with my best friend, where I swear she was really sitting there with me after  she died in that car crash?  Was that her way of sneaking back to let me know all was good?  

I brought this all up to my daughter who is studying religions in college right now and she posed some really interesting thoughts.  One of my favorites was when she questioned who has souls? Do animals have souls?  Why do they say animals won't go to heaven if they have to have a soul to live. Why wouldn't they go to heaven then?  Is there really such a thing as a bad animal? Would say a dog be a bad dog because he bit someone?  She brought up how in psychology good behavior brings good consequences, bad behavior brings bad consequences, sort of the basis of all religions in a way really. 

The discussion went on and on until she finally got up to make a pot of coffee because in her words, it was too early to start having an existentialist crisis.  Too funny.  I guess caffeine cures all lol.

I just got off of the phone with my mom who brought up, out of the blue, something that happened to her today.  She walked into her laundry room and she said she was hit with a smell she hadn't smelled in years.  The smell of Mennen Speed Stick.  My father wore that deodorant all of the time.  She said he put it on like a layer of spackle every morning.  That would ordinarily be no big deal, but the thing is dad passed away almost 13 years ago.  My mom said she picked up every piece of laundry smelling it, looking for a source of the odor.  Only she couldn't find it.  What if it was my dad trying to let my mom know he was there with her again?  What if he was wrapping his ethereal arms around her, sneaking a hug?  I smiled at that thought.  I know my dad fought his way back from life support to be with mom, only to have the staff infection take him away.  I believe in my heart he was just checking in on my mom.  He fought so hard, so many times, for so many years not to leave her.  I believe he just might have come to see she was still doing well.

There is the part of me that wishes there was some one who had an answer to all that confounds me. Maybe like my oldest daughter said, when I read the start of this to her, that death is something so many are afraid of that no one wants to know the answers.  No one wants to try and figure out the answers. Maybe, but a part of me wants to know my loved ones are ok and happy.

"Exploring the unknown requires tolerating uncertainty" ~ Brian Greene

So what do you think?  I have friends from all faith and non faith ideals.  Feel free to leave comments regarding your beliefs about the afterlife.  I would love to hear what you think.  In the mean time, I will continue to let this bounce around inside my head.

God made death so we'd know when to stop. ~Steven Stiles

I intend to live forever. So far, so good. ~Steven Wright

“I believe that what we become depends on what our fathers teach us at odd moments, when they aren’t trying to teach us.” – Umberto Eco

While traveling back from what was supposed to be a surprise birthday visit for his dad, that turned into what it did, my husband scripted a note to his dad and shared it with me.  I asked my husband if I could post this on my blog, permission was granted with his blessing.  Hope you are enjoying your coffee and newspaper this morning dad.  Thank you for sharing this with us honey, it is truly beautiful. 'Nuff said, please enjoy.

Some gifts are more important then others. 

This past week I was able to spend a lot of time with my dad.  It turned out to be his final days and hours on this earth.  During some of the quiet moments sitting there with him I was able to reflect on all the gifts he gave me over my life. 

I'm not talking about toy trains and race car sets.  While he did give me plenty of those.  I'm talking about the kind of gifts that you can't put a bow on and that don't  fit in a box.  The kind of gifts that you keep with you your entire life and hopefully pass on to your children and that they in turn  pass on to theirs.  He gave me gifts that have no price tags but are priceless. 

My father gave me the following gifts.  

Fatherhood. He taught me what it means to be a good father. That being a father is more then the physical act of reproducing a child it is a life long responsibility of doing the best that you can to love, nurture and raise your children.   

Loyalty.  He taught me that you don't let others down that you stand by them and if you make a commitment to them you stick with it.   

Integrity.  He taught me that your word is your bond.  Don't say things if you don't mean them.  Don't lie, cheat or steal to get ahead.  

Love.  He taught me about love.  That it is unconditional and that it is okay to say it often and express it to those that you do.  

Friendship.  He taught me about friendship.  That while you don't have to have hundreds of friends that you should cherish the ones that you have. 

Emotions. He taught me that it is okay for a man to show emotions.  That it is okay to cry.  That it's not a sign of weakness but a sign of confidence and compassion. 

Hard Work.  He taught me to always give your best and work hard.  Whether on a job, on the playing field or just in life, always give 100%.  

Kindness.  He taught me to always be kind and polite to others.  To help those that need it.  To do some simple things daily like hold the door for people and say please and thank you.  

These gifts that he gave me carry no monetary value.  They aren't in listed in a will and there is no estate tax on them. But I couldn't ask for a better inheritance from him.  He gave me gifts that make me strive to be a better person everyday.  To hopefully be able to pass these gifts onto my girls and hope that they will pass them on to their children.  I already see it with my oldest and how she is raising her son. 

So dad let me once again say thank you and that your legacy will hopefully live on for generations.  I love you and miss you so much already. 

“He didn’t tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it.” 
– Clarence Budington Kelland

The simple things in life brought the biggest pleasure in the twilight of his....

"I'm going to get better, then I am going to have a cup of coffee, I am going to read the newspaper, I am going to have a strawberry milkshake, I'm going to read a book...."  Things my father in law rattled off to my husband that he'd like to do when he gets better.  Only he isn't going to get better.

The simple things in life, symbolic of a far simpler time.  Times that bring back the joys of maybe swinging on a porch swing at dusk in the summertime, going swimming in his favorite swimming hole with his friends when he was younger, mooning the trains that went by (one of the stories he loved to entertain my girls with when they were little).   The simpler things that represent my father in law, who now lies in a hospital bed, a former shell of himself.

My girls face-timed him today, before they moved him to hospice, to say they love him one more time.  While he is lucid and knows them again.  One more time before he slips into the clouds of his mind that his Alzheimer's brings.

A man from humble origins.  His mom and dad came over from England and settled in the West Chicago area.  His dad was a brick mason by trade, and he'd do a handstand atop every chimney he completed.  My father in law spoke very rarely of his dad.  I believe it was too painful for him.  He had the unfortunate luck of finding his dad after his father decided to end his own life.  An event that so desperately scarred him, depression haunted him his entire life because of this.

He and my mother in law married later than average for their time.  They didn't rush to get married at 18 as was de rigueur, adopted my husband even later than most people do for the era they were born in to.  He liked listening to big band music, loved golf, but then loved things like watching the Sopranos.  He was an amazing golf player during his younger life, even worked as Arnold Palmer's vice president back when you came home to a martini waiting for you from your wife before dinner and smoking a pack or two a day wasn't an issue according to doctors.  Hell they might even recommend your brand for you.

We moved this lovely human being into hospice this evening, because as he said during moments of his lucidity today, I've been sick a long time.  It seems like it.  Like Brad and I said, he was healthy for 87 and a half years, the last year and a half will not be how we remember him.  I choose to remember the man I met 27 years ago, who cried when he met the woman who had captured his son's heart. The man who brought Beau treats because Beau tickled him so.  The man who played the dollar game with my girls until the shaking in his hands got to be too much and he stopped playing it.

He had many health issues through his life, but overcame things like his heart disease or diabetes problems and did his best to take good care of himself, dieting and exercising although he did hide potato chips in his car so my mother in law wouldn't find them.  I won't mention how he longed to stop at the roadside stands that sold beef jerky near his villa in FL.

All it took was pulling three teeth, and his world unravelled.  The bleeding wouldn't stop, turns out he developed acquired hemophilia for no apparent reason they could ever find, and after that stint in the hospital to stop his bleeding from those three teeth, he was never the same.  It seemed to accelerate the rate of confusion he encountered.  The medicines they put him on to control his new condition made him tired, cranky and he stopped wanting to eat.  The man who loved nothing better than a bratwurst, a piece of standing rib roast with Yorkshire pudding,  anything hardy, because no dainty finger sandwiches would do for my father in law.  The man who I loved to feed, because the Italian in me was overjoyed when he ate until he was ready to burst and he thanked me for making him dinner. He stopped eating.  He stopped caring.

Today, this beautiful human being went to hospice, to wait for the last breath he will breathe.  And we all wait with him.  Wait for him to go softly into that goodnight because the night is falling for you dad.

You are surrounded by those who love you, like that line from Ghost I often quote because I know in my heart it's true, the love inside, you take it with you.  I know you are feeling that love inside, and I know you are taking it with you.

Until we all see each other again.  Please scratch Beau's big, old Boxer chest for me.  I know he will be waiting for his treat from you, and let my dad know how much I miss him and how well I am doing!

“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief…and unspeakable love.”– Washington Irving

“What you do not want done to yourself, do not do to others.” – Confucius

1. “A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out.”
   – Walter Winchell

I've recently been seeing a post on social media.  It's a quote saying something along the lines of wishing parents cared more about if their children are kind to other kids, sitting with the kid who is sitting alone at lunch I think it said, than if they are in gifted classes.  I couldn't agree more with that sentiment.  I remember one little boy on our street that used to tease my daughter and make her cry because "he was gifted" and "she wasn't".  My common response to that is there is no such thing as gifted in high school.  It's an equal playing field there, so who cares?  But it got me thinking.  Do parents really care?  Do they want to know when their kids are being like that??

I watched as my 14 year old nearly got excluded, about 1 hour before their first high school football game as freshman last Friday, because there was only room for so many in this girls' opinion and someone needed to be left out.  My daughter was the lucky one she chose.  If this did happen? I was actually going to call the mom, because you know, I would want to know if my daughter was doing this, so she might actually too.  I like her daughter a lot because she is usually very kind and inclusive. Thankfully she called my daughter and apologized and decided to include everyone, I am glad to say everyone had a great time.

“If you make friends with yourself you will never be alone.”– Maxwell Maltz

But the thought of my child being excluded tore into the very fiber of my being.  It got me thinking again,  when do you forget and heal from such an ordeal?  It was so difficult for me to handle when everything happened with my youngest daughter and her former friend group last year because I realized so much of the pain I was feeling was my own.  My own from way back in St. Hyacinth's. When, for whatever reason, two of us were chosen to be ostracized by our female friends. I remember the lonely bus rides, I remember lunch being a nightmare.  I was with the same 30 or so kids so there was really no where to branch out and find new friends.  I wonder if it's anything that the girls who did this to us think about.  When I think about it, it can still make my throat tighten.  It was the loneliest feeling in the world.  Do these girls think about what they did and think, "hell yeah, we made those two girls miserable.  We made them hate waking up and going to school!  We are awesome!"  I mean seriously what goes on in their minds?  Thankfully our Nun was pretty savvy, caught on to what the girls were doing to us and made us all have a sit down and make amends.  But I just remember crying and crying during it, my head on my desk, relieved it would finally be over. Sad that I was hated by my former friends.

“To the world you may be just one person, but to one person you may be the world."– Brandi Snyder

I got through high school fairly unscathed.  Sure there were groups of people I wished truly liked me. Ones I so desperately tried to fit in with. The ones that used me for my car or my pool, that would make fun of me when they thought I didn't realize it.  Or soap my car with horrible sayings after I was finally done putting up with them.  I remember sobbing, because my father found my car covered in horrible things, horrible things that were said about me and he was sad someone would say something like that about his little girl.  I was embarrassed as my neighbors watched as I scrubbed away their literary masterpiece on my old blue Monte Carlo.  I do feel I should mention I did meet a couple of wonderful people going into my junior year that I still call best friend to this day.  But for the most part, I made it through high school looking forward to college.

Let's skip to my senior year in college and unfortunately I was on the receiving end of another "let's exclude Danielle" campaign.  I guess some guy got my suite mates and sorority sisters believing I was saying some pretty awful things about them.  I couldn't understand the cold shoulder I was getting until I asked one of the girls I lived with.  She countered with she couldn't be friends with a back stabbing bitch like me.  I was floored.  I guess when this guy who wished he was in our sorority spouted off all of his crap about people it was okay, because I stupidly kept his confidence.  But for whatever reason this time, he unleashed his fury on me, and once again I was sitting outside looking in.  I graduated without a friend pretty much.  Once again, ok because I met the man of my dreams and knew I would be with him right after I graduated, so really those people mattered not much in the grand scheme of things.  Brad was my world, he still is :)

“Lots of people want to ride with you in the limo, but what you want is someone who will take the bus with you when the limo breaks down.”— Oprah Winfrey

So it got me thinking yet again, what is it like for you people?  The transgressors who make other's lives miserable for whatever reason?  My husband seems to think it's because these people are insecure with themselves.  They need to boost themselves at other's expenses.  Did you get off on seeing how awful you make people feel?  Do you even remember what you did?  Because those of us who suffered at your insecure hands still do.

Then another thought crossed my mind, what happens if it happens to YOUR child?  If someone decides it's time to ostracize your kid?  Make their lives miserable.  Can you honestly be empathetic? Can you look at them and be genuinely sorry for their pain knowing at one point in your life you did the same thing to someone else?  When my best friend and I were talking this weekend she told me how her oldest daughter's friend group decided they didn't like Emma anymore just a month or so outside of graduation. The pain I felt for my friend's daughter was real.  Like someone punched me in the stomach.  How I wanted to go find these nasty girls and give them what they deserved for being so ugly and hurtful.  It honestly broke my heart in two.  This is a brilliant girl, a great athlete, so pretty she could be carved in a cameo is how I describe her to others, and yep, some insecure butt heads decided to try and take her down a few pegs because they probably aren't nearly as successful. But words like mine do precious little to heal a person when they are living through stuff like that. Thankfully my non blooded niece is happily attending Northeastern in Boston now, making her way through college beautifully so far, where she has access to Mike's cannoli whenever she wants them. Kind of like a little slice of heaven after dealing with the hell she had to endure.

I guess that's what I need to get past all of these feelings.  My very own Mike's Cannoli shop. If it were that simple, I'd be a millionaire.  Able to solve hurt feelings, one cannoli at a time.

“Friendship is the hardest thing in the world to explain. It’s not something you learn in school. But if you haven’t learned the meaning of friendship, you really haven’t learned anything.”– Muhammad Ali

Mmmm, spit flavored hummus, my favorite

That came from a dream my husband had, or rather a comment I made about it.  He dreamt we were at this food buffet where they served you.  I am on this ultra-restrictive diet and cannot eat anything in real life, but in his dream I was on this diet too.  Sounds more like a nightmare lol.  Anyway, I was walking down his dreamy food line saying what I typically say in real life, I can't eat that, I can't eat that, I can't eat that....Until we happened on the hummus in his dream, where I said I can eat that (which in real life I can't so the irony is real) and as the dream man went to serve me he licked the spoon, then scooped out some hummus on my plate.  Dream Brad tried to warn me not to eat it.  That the guy licked the spoon but Dream Danielle got nasty and said, "I can't eat anything else! I'm eating it." Great dream right hahaha!?  I got some spit flavored hummus.

I kind of feel like that's what my life is dealing me lately.  Eat this spit flavored hummus and like it. You don't have a choice.  It's your only option.  I have been having some things happening with my health that have been concerning, and this diet has been helping me some, so I am sticking to it. But my life is dealing me spit flavored hummus and it sucks.

I noticed something was going slightly awry at my Godson's wedding back in July.  We were in Central Park, dressed all sorts of fancy.  Found this dress that I absolutely had to have.  I was in love with the simplicity and elegance.  But skirting was heavy, and the black jersey material top didn't breathe very well.  It had just stormed because of the suffocating heat, the humidity was unreal and I was sweating. Profusely. All huge no-nos in the adventure land of MS. 

When they finally called us in to the ceremony, after standing outside for over an hour socializing with my family, I remember walking.  Or trying to rather.  Thankfully my brother was standing in front of me.  He and Brad were chatting as we turned to walk inside. I was talking to my sister in law. I started leaning into Rick's back.  It felt like I was walking on the side of my left foot.  I felt like I was going to fall. I stupidly told my sister in law my shoe was bothering me.  That's what I thought was going on.  As everyone started to move faster I realized my leg wasn't working the way it was supposed to. I frantically reached over and grabbed Brad's arm, my throat getting tight, I was close to tears.  I was honestly scared.  I tried to remain calm, and Brad, ever my savior, smoothly maneuvered my non-walking legs out of the crowd's way as I started rambling that things weren't right.  He managed to get me into the air conditioning with a minimum of fan fare and seated me with my family who all promptly asked what was wrong.  I had to explain my left leg acted up due to the heat. The AC was a blessing.  As I started to cool off, everything started feeling alright again.  First time since being diagnosed 23 years ago, that I had to blame MS for me not being able to function.  I don't like the feeling of not being in control of things in my own body.  I hated the attention it drew from all well meaning family members.  I down played everything.  Said I was absolutely fine.  But sat at our "kids" table as I affectionately dubbed it, because it was all of the cousins that had to sit at the kids table during Thanksgiving at Nan's house once upon a time, and I tried not to move around much.  I did try to slow dance once with Brad, but things didn't work out so well. It was a vvveeerrryyyy slow dance, more like rocking side to side.  We went back to our seats so I could drink more water, which I found myself wishing actually had ice so it would help me cool down faster, but it wasn't helping. We wound up leaving the wedding early.  I needed to get out of that dress and completely cooled off.  I knew I would be fine in our hotel room, and I started feeling more myself once I was in my pj shorts and a tank top..

Things have gotten better.  With the help of this anti-inflammatory diet, plus learning good stress management and getting sufficient sleep, I feel better.  Everyday stuff is fine, even in the blast furnace that Virginia became the last part of the summer.  I have stayed inside for the most part. Transitioning from inside to outside is something I do my best to avoid.  

I haven't been Crossfitting hard and heavy like I used to love to.  When I do?  That whole left leg feeling funny thing and acting weird happens.  Scares the hell out of me, so I do my best to avoid it, especially in public.  I work out in my garage because if I fall there? It's like a tree falling in the woods without a witness.  Did it really happen hahaha??  At least I am working out still I tell myself. Certain lifts are still at a decent weight, but anything to do with squatting or my legs?  I go pretty light, and just do my best.  Add to it I have arthritis in my right knee and well, squatting just isn't going to happen the way I want it to.  

Most days I feel like I am fighting gravity.  Kind of like that old commercial for V-8 in the 80's where the people are all walking at a diagonal.  Or my legs feel heavy and it takes awhile before I feel like they are underneath me.  

I was just at the Granite Games as my husband's official cheering section.  Health, vitality and fitness ubiquitously filled the air.  I was jealous, truly sad that I wasn't one of those healthy people.  I noticed this younger woman being pushed around in a wheel chair by her obvious boyfriend or husband.  Big burly guy, Crossfitter's beard, you knew he was competing.  She was in her mid to late twenties if I were a guessing woman.  So young to be sitting in a wheelchair and I wondered what her story was. Then I saw it, the Orange ribbon, the MS ribbon tattooed on the back of her husband or boyfriend's leg.  I never did work up the nerve to ask if she had it.  I figured if she did, she was feeling like I was. All out of place around these insanely fit people. 

I stopped my pity party then though.  I told myself at least I was walking, racing around actually, to some of the events to watch my husband compete.  At least I had control still.  And I am doing everything in my power to keep the health I have now.  Trying to heal some of what's going on by eating this non-inflammatory diet.  I am thinking it's time to find a neurologist though.  Just going to a family practitioner isn't enough I don't think.

I sit and wistfully think of all of my beautiful heels in my closet some days.  No, I'm not crazy.  I love my shoes and I don't know that I will ever be sashaying around in them again.  So many pairs, each my favorite for one reason or the other.  They look sad sitting in their boxes, waiting for me to put them on and show them off again.  Hopefully someday I will again.

And there's that dress, the dress I HAD to have.  The dress that started my issues.  I am giving it a second chance at my best friend's upcoming nuptials.  It's not it's fault that the leg thing happened. I still love that dress and am hoping for a better time in it.  Only this time, no beautiful heels.  I will be wearing these instead

Presents Revisited

I know I've posted about receiving gifts before.  But I recently received two gifts that were so awesome I had to share them with you.

So it was my birthday on the 22nd of April.  I got loads of nice gifts from friends and family.  One of my daughters made me a gift and put it on my pillow so I would see it last thing my birthday night. Lo and behold, it fell off the pillow sometime between when she put it there and I got into my bed. She waited well over a week before she asked in a rather small voice after I had just brought her in from school, "um, Madre, did you like my gift to you?" I was a little taken aback I have to say. I didn't remember what she had gotten me, so there goes the internal struggle. Do I admit I have no idea what her gift was and risk hurting her, or do I gush and try and bluff that it was just perfect? I took the honest route and apologized profusely for not remembering her gift.  That's when she told me she put it on my pillow.  I remember vividly nothing there that night.  I took off up to my room to find said gift.  And I did, it had fallen down along the side of my bed and was between my night stand and the bed.  It's funny how something as simple as what she gave me could turn into one of the most memorable gifts I have received in, well, recent memory.  It had tears rolling down my face by the time I was done.  How something so simple could have such impact, well I was truly moved

46 Reasons why being 46 is pretty ok and an art journal page made just for me.

I will keep and cherish this forever.  Wow is all I can say.

The next awesome gift came from a friend from college.  Actually we went to school together and never really met each other.  We have mutual friends, met on FB and realized we had a bunch in common.  Like we're crazy Italian mothers, like we LOVE all things hockey, like we're both totally awesome and the world needs to watch out for us hahaha!!  

Anyway, my friend recently found out I had MS, she and her two lovely daughters are doing the MS walk.  I didn't know it until I received this picture on my timeline on FB

Can you say blown away???  This fine family chose to walk in my honor at this MS walk.  They haven't even met me, and yet they chose to champion my cause.  Once again, a gift without a package, wrapping paper or a bow, but yet, in the same breath, the most beautiful gift to receive.  I am truly humbled and blown away.  My friend explained she's trying to raise her girls with compassion, teach them to be kind to others, definitely a dying way of parenting in this world we live in, teach them to live right.  MA, you have already accomplished your goal.

Yep, presents, gotta love them. These presents I have received cost nothing, but have rewarded me so richly.  Was it the Beatles that sang, "the best things in life are free....?" I am going to have to say I couldn't agree more.