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Decade Birthdays

Friday, March 18th, 2011

My brother Dennis will turn 60 in a few days. The family gathered in Black Hawk for a joyous celebration. Brother Bill and his wife Earlene graciously took me up and helped me get around as it was my first trip there in over fifteen years ñ and things have changed!

We went on Wednesday and had our own time with the Birthday Boy and his wife Claudia that day and, again, Thursday morning before others began arriving. Brothers Ralph, with wife Cheryl, and Roy, with wife Sue, arrived yesterday. Sister Linda was unable to join us due to health problems.

About 1:00 this afternoon (Friday) we all gathered in a room at the Ameristar Hotel. We lit candles on a large cake ñ 6 candles, each representing 10 years ñ and sang Happy Birthday. We basked in our time together and admired the glorious scene of snow on the evergreen trees from our vantage point on the 23rd floor. We brothers and sisters donít always agree with each other 100% (no political discussions by mutual agreement), but we do always love and respect each other.

Now in the quiet of my own home, I am reflecting on the tradition of noting decade birthdays in special ways. I remember aiming to get my doctorate for my 40th birthday. I missed that goal by a few months ñ receiving the Degree in December instead of May of that year, but I was still 40! My sister Linda threw a surprise party for my 50th birthday. We had a great brunch in the Sheraton Hotel in Lakewood with family and close friends. I was awake to greet my 60th birthday at 12:01 a.m., but exhausted, sitting in an airport in Lima, Peru, waiting to return from an inspirational two-week trip featuring Caroline Myss. The family honored that birthday a few weeks later with everyone giving me packages containing 60 of something ñ paperclips, note pads, marbles, stuffed mice, pennies, etc. When I turned 70 last May, Bill, Earlene, and Linda hosted a fabulous party for friends and family. I am truly blessed.

Yes! Letís celebrate life! Letís celebrate each decade and continue to anticipate even greater events and joys as we move into the challenging and unchartered territory of a new age.

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Posted in Aging, Celebrate!, Gratitude, Life Event, Phyllis Kennemer, Writer | 4 Comments »

The Comforts of Old Age

Friday, February 18th, 2011

Our society tends to discredit any advantages to growing old. We seem to have an inbred cultural fear of looking old, acting old, being old. But, hereís the surprise ñ once you are old you discover much to be grateful for.

Now that I am old, I never wear shoes that are uncomfortable. Ditto for clothing. If itís too tight, too loose, too short, too faded, too ragged, too anything ñ itís zap into the Good Will bag. Itís out of here.

I no longer eat foods that I donít like, just because they are supposedly good for me. I donít eat cucumbers, bell peppers, or radishes. I will try a new recipe or take a chance (once in awhile) and order something different in a restaurant. If I donít like it with the first bite, Iím finished. I have actually asked the server to take the offending dish away and bring a different one ñ something I would never have done in my younger years.

I do not have to finish reading every book I start or continue viewing every movie I tune in to. Some books and movies are boring; some use language that ìhurts my earsî; some have scary scenes that I donít want registered in my subconscious. Put the book down. Turn the movie off.

Speaking my mind comes more easily now. I hope that I continue to be sensitive to the feelings of others, but I donít have much patience left for dealing with what I consider to be a lack of common sense. I am also less argumentative than in past years, so I have cultivated the habit of changing subjects and, sometimes, walking away.

Dressing in comfort, eating what I like, enjoying books and movies, and expressing my true self. Who could ask for more? Life is good!

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Posted in Aging, Gratitude, Life Event, Phyllis Kennemer, Writer | 3 Comments »

Why Blog?

Friday, January 28th, 2011

I donít want to blog, but a really smart woman convinced me to do it. Thank you, Maryjo! So, here I am, even though I've always preferred journal writing over blogging because in my journal I can make mistakes and say whatever I want. I donít write because Iím eloquent, I write because it's always been my number one obsession, a kind of†tortuous self-therapy on automatic pilot. Even before I knew what I was doing was called writing, I did it. I find solace in it, but it's also horribly painful. The psychological hold and emotional aspect of the work can be too much at times. So, for my blog, I decided to take a break from my writing obsession and focus on some of my other obsessions. Some are things I never imagined Iíd find interesting and some are things that have always been my obsessions whether I knew it or not.

My first obsession:†My house. Or ìourî house, I should say. I say ìI should sayî because I couldnít have done it without my husband Dave, yet part of me is possessive because I bought it before I met him. It is my baby. When we talk about possibly selling it one day for a ìbetterî house, I scoff. There is no better house! After all, it is my first. After all weíve done to it, I have such a feeling of accomplishment and satisfaction. And I canít wait to do more!

Iíve always wanted my own house, even though I didnít realize it.†The desire came to light when I moved to Colorado for graduate school. My first thought was, why continue to pay rent when instead I can put those payments toward owning my own house? It was pure economics. What I didnít realize is that I wanted a house for other reasons: security, creativity, stability. I started to crave those things in a more tangible form after graduate school, when I began to recognize my flair for decorating. Even though I had lived in dumpy apartment after dumpy apartment since my sophomore year in college, I had always made those dumps my own. Posters, rugs, candles, lampsñwhatever it took to make my space comfortable. When I started fantasizing about painting my apartment walls and then tearing down those same walls to make an open floor plan, I knew I had to buy a house.

After finding a real estate agent who would actually help me after hearing my budget and finding out I was a poor, single woman, I finally found a house I knew I could love because I could make it my own. It was in terrible shape, but there was something about its style that I liked. I didn't know it at the time, but that style is "mid-century modern." "Brady Bunch house," I called it; probably because of the cathedral ceilings, the picture windows in the living room and the moss rock fireplace in the "den," which is really a converted garage. But the house I bought certainly was a fixer-upper; one friend later admitted that after he saw it, he wanted to warn me not to buy it. I wouldn't have heeded his warning, though: nothing could dissuade me, save for the inspector telling me the foundation was sinking. Luckily, he didn't say that. He did say a lot of other things, and since buying the house, I have done a lot to it myself and even more with the help of Dave, and I feel a sense of pride because of all we've done. Iím glad I didnít chicken out of the deal. I almost did, but my parents told me to go for it. I thank them for encouraging me. I think their faith in me gave me faith in myself. The one thought that kept going through my head, though, was, ìI canít buy a house!î Thankfully, that thought didnít win out.

In 2002, I started my home renovation by chopping down all of the overgrown foliage around the house and in the front and back yards. This was no easy task, but I needed a blank slate...

Tune in next month to find out where spiders go when you chop down their living quarters, what I found in the giant juniper bush as I hacked away at its branches, and handy landscaping tips for poor people, including, ìDonít stand on top of your roommateís van to trim trees with a bow saw...

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Posted in Life Event, Uncategorized | 3 Comments »

What a Holiday This Was!

Wednesday, January 5th, 2011

This Holiday†Season was†amazing. †Many events tumbled around us--friends fell into despair and confusion while we stayed at home. Colorado lay under winter storm warnings, but there was no traveling for us, thus†we never got stuck in the bitter blizzard conditions; we were not stranded in the ice storms. The worst thing that happened to me was I had to switch to arctic tundra boots to be able to feed hay to the horses and still my toes got very cold.

But, sorrowful and terrifying things did happen. Simply awful. One friend suffered a head on collision and was being lifted in the ambulance when her cell phone rang. The message was from a far; her elderly mother was dying. Another family I know limped thru the holiday with a broken heartóthis was the first Christmas since the passing of their little girl. And, a sister in the creative life, a writer and artist, buried her beloved husband.

Is it okay to mention the brighter side? One Christmas letter shared a story of recovery from a stroke, while another brought an address, so I could write a long lost friend back.†Plus, my little family was home, altogether! And, we opened many gifts from under the tree, tokens that reminded me that I am not alone. I truly enjoyed the games, the books, and the movies. I ate a lot of chocolate and enjoyed the feast of ham, casseroles and homemade treats. I had a long needed conversation with my very busy hubbie, and we found a path through the tangle of this empty nesting stage of life. Additionally, I rejoiced with the good news of a friends unexpected positive surgery outcome, and sighed a deep one of relief when another friend did not have breast cancer. I attended a Winter Solstice gathering and listened to Hopes as we waited for the end of the Long, Dark Night. Stars shown overhead, and filled my heart--these things matter.

This Holiday, between my radiant sparkling moments, I cried a lotófor the pain of people around me, and because so much of Life Happening scares me. I cried for myself, selfishly praying for Strength and Courage!

The older I get, the more I realize how fleeting this time is called My Life. In the bustle of all the shopping, I have learned to rest my eyes and grateful heart on the family Christmas tree, lost in the reverie of each glittering memento, treasuring the images of tiny hands and snaggled-toothed grins of my children as they handed them to me. They are grown ups now, busy and out there, more and more, †without me. But, I am learning to let go and love them as wonderful people set upon a course, rejoicing when they come to be with us.

Daily, I seek the Source of my personal strength, and clamor back on board every time a new twist dislodges my spirit.

For the New Year, I hugged each loved one and friend, generously. I want them to know they matter, that life with them has been so rich. The losses hurt. I mourn, and learn to let grief hone my sense of eternal gratitude.††

Thank you everyone, for coming into my life and for every blessing you have shown me, every Living lesson and excruciatingly painful bit. I try to live worthy of your gifts, everyday. Really.

Posted in Cheryl Courtney, Writer, inspiration, Life Event, Stating the Obvious | 3 Comments »

A Christmas Experience

Monday, December 20th, 2010

*Last night I attended a Winter Solstice Celebration. It was a delightful gathering. We dined, wined and shared a warmth and willingness to embrace the moment and the meaning of light in our lives. †I left with an awareness of camaraderie and a peaceful heart.

*This morning I awoke to a sorrowful email from a friend. He wrote:

Lighting the tree? Christmastide?

Not for me.

Long gone, the brother. So weepy, the friends.

*My heart was saddened by his heartfelt outpouring. Even though Iím aware of the negative aspects this time of year possesses for many people, I was shocked and surprised to hear my friendís disclosure. I never knew. Of course I sent an email in response. I wrote:

The light of the season is within heart.

Thatís what people see, hear and feel from you.

The tree of life blossoms.

Dry your tears, friend.

Your light shines!

Blessings and Merry Christmas.

*Yes this is the season of joy, giving, love and peace and I do appreciate its being and itís true meaning. And in the words of† Tiny Tim Cratchit from Dickens Christmas Carol, ìGOD BLESS US, EVERY ONE!î

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Posted in Helen Colella, Author, inspiration, Life Event | 7 Comments »

Cancer Free: A Miracle

Friday, December 3rd, 2010

Claudia is cancer free! When the doctor talked to the family after the surgery, he told us that he was pretty sure all of the cancer was contained in the ovaries he removed, but he took numerous biopsies to have checked to be sure. He actually took a total of 18 biopsies. The results came back today. Not only were these all negative ñ the mass that was removed was also negative. It was a rare type of tumor which had grown to a size larger than a grapefruit and had exhibited some characteristics similar to those of cancer. But the results are complete. No cancer. No chemo.

I also think personally that we have just seen the effects of the power of prayer. We donít know how many people offered up prayers, but a teacher at the school where Claudia had been secretary for the past ten years or so told Denae that 20 school staff members managed to find coverage for their classes and duties and gathered to pray together at 2:00 on Tuesday ñ the time the surgery was scheduled to begin.

Claudia was having a difficult recovery the past couple of days ñ possibly because of the threat of chemo hanging over her. When the doctor told her the results, she got out of bed and went home. ìI donít have cancer. I donít need to be in hospital.î She did have surgery and a large incision, so she will need rest and recovery, but the news obviously gave her strength.

Thanks to all of you for your prayers and your concern.

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Posted in Gratitude, inspiration, Life Event, Phyllis Kennemer, Writer | 5 Comments »

Eyes Wide Shut

Wednesday, November 10th, 2010

When my husbandís health problems escalated to where he needed intensive medical care, a friend suggested he contact the Veteransí Administration.

ìAs a U. S. Navy Vet,î he said, ìyou should be eligible for health related benefits.î

Eddie inquired, and indeed discovered that because of his military experience he qualified for a basically cost free health program. One that provided an array of medical services, which, because of his personal needs, turned out to be extensive.

On several occasions, Eddie had to undergo high tech diagnostic testing and treatment that led to specialized medications to operations. He also needed follow-up well-care visits and numerous, lengthy hospital stays. Along with these services he encountered countless skilled and compassionate doctors, nurses, specialists and a highly trained general staffóevery one unique and unforgettable.

In addition, he made and cultivated friendships with other servicemen with their own physical difficulties, some of which seemed far worse then his; at least to me.

During the first few visits to the V.A. Hospital, I must admit to being overwhelmed, embarrassed and frightened at the sights I encountered. It was here, my eyes were opened and I became exposed to the effects of war on both men and women of all ages in a way I had never could have anticipated or imagined.

Now I thought I was as patriotic as the next person was. Didnít I sing the patriotic songs and praise the vets for their efforts? Didnít I send donations to the appropriate organizations and attend local parades to honor our soldiers? Didnít I hang my flag out to acknowledge them on Veterans Day and Memorial Day and wear handmade trinkets to show my support?

Yet nothing prepared me for the experience of being in the company of so many who had gone through so much.

I felt humbled by my lack of real world knowledge and the obvious ignorance I held about the veteranís who served our country. I questioned what those of us, and I believe that statistic is high, are not truly aware of what they experience for our benefit.

History ìteachesî us about cause, effect and outcome of war. Television and specialized websites show us the weaponry, destruction, and fatal statistics. News media personalities and politicians analyze the pros and cons of war.

Yet what we donít see, hear or learn much about is the human experience of those who actually do the fighting, how soldiers are affected, how the aftermath changes their lives.

Old-timers from World War ll and Korea, my contemporaries from Vietnam and the youngsters from the Gulf War at the Denver, CO and Cheyenne, WY V.A. Hospitals opened my eyes to a different world; one I never realized existed is such a significant abundance.

The dramatic impact of wheel chair bound vets; single-limb and multiple-limb amputees and long-term bedridden patients whose ailments are not obvious struck an unsuspecting emotional response. I never knewÖ

And those who lost lifeís luster and wander in search of themselves their dreams and the life they once knew, jolted my sense of appreciation for life. I never really knewÖ

Most of these Vets were not ranked as heroes. They were instead regarded as victims of a tragedy during war maneuvers.

Becoming part of this world showed me exactly how little I actually knew of the consequences of war and the sacrifices others gave and suffered for a freedom I took for granted. Itís then I realized how much I didnít understand the far-reaching effects on, not only them, but upon their families and friends. Itís then I realized that despite how their ailments came about, they were, indeed, all heroes who served our country because they believed their efforts would impact the worldÖmake it better place in which we could all live.

I'm thankful for my husbandís care, having my eyes opened, being filled with a profound gratitude for every vetís service to our country. I also have a deeper respect and sense of the meaning of veteran, patriotism, freedom and making the world a better place in which to liveÖone day, one action, one person at a time.

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Posted in Gratitude, Helen Colella, Author, inspiration, Life Event | 9 Comments »

Choosing to Be a Crone

Sunday, October 17th, 2010

What is a crone? What traits does she possess?

First, I would like to make clear that not all old women are Crones. Becoming a Crone is a conscious choice. It involves a declaration of intent and a positive way of thinking. Of course, we will all continue to age as long as we stay alive, but it is up to each of us to choose the role we will play in this final stage. Will you choose to be a Crone or will you choose to just be an old lady?

What are we committing to if we agree to be crones?

Crones are authentic. We have reached a stage in life where we can truly be ourselves. So what if I have some gray hairs? So what if I have some wrinkles? So what if I have gained a few pounds? So what if I donít fit the prototype of the young woman promoted everywhere I look. I am still me. I have value. I am a vibrant, living, beautiful part of the human race.

Crones accept this final phase of life with joy and anticipation. We accept that although our souls are immortal, no one lives on this plane of existence forever. We have other places to go ñ other realms to explore.

†I love a story that I read in a forwarded internet message some years ago. Seems people were surprised when they viewed the body of an active parishioner during her funeral service. As they looked into the coffin they spotted a fork in her right hand. Perplexed they asked the minister why this was so. He replied that this lady had attended numerous pot luck dinners at the church over the years. She told him that as the dinner plates were removed from the tables, someone would always shout, ìKeep your fork, the best is yet to come!î She had thus asked to be buried with fork in hand.

Crones welcome the mysteries of life. We believe in the magic of existence. Crones know that not everything has an explanation. Some things just are. We trust our insight and intuition in daily living.

Crones are grateful for all of the experiences of our lives. We are thankful for the advantages of our many years, while recognizing that old age is not all strawberries and cream. We have experienced the joys of life, but we have also experienced grief, some of us in great measure. All of us have lost people that are important to us. Many of us have outlived our parents, some have outlived our husbands, some have suffered the tragedy of outliving a child, and all of us have lost friends and mentors. We are sometimes tempted to give in to feeling lonely, even depressed. But Ö

Crones live in the present. For some of us, it is a temptation to live in the past ñ to revel in former accomplishments and happier relationships. And sometimes I get caught in that trap myself. My husband died 13 years ago and not a day goes by that I do not think of him. But when I start getting nostalgic, I endeavor to remember the words of Eckhart Tolle. In The Power of Now, he tells us that dwelling in the past always brings regret ñ thinking about good times that no longer exist evokes feelings of sadness and discontent. Regretting mistakes that cannot be changed results in guilt and frustration. On the other hand, thinking constantly about what the future may hold takes us into a state of worry or consternation. Tolle admonishes to live in the present. All is well in this moment. Celebrate the temporary. †Enjoy the now.

Crones have compassion. We care for others and resist passing judgment on them, realizing that each person is following his or her own path through life. It is not up to us to criticize anotherís journey. We just need to to offer support and encouragement.

Crones live in love. Crones know that the beginning of all love is self-love. We remember the words of Jesus, ìLove your neighbor as you love yourself.î He was telling us that we must first have self love before we can truly express love for others.

We are women. We have within us all of the experiences of life and these experiences have made us who we are. We are survivors. We are strong. We offer a sisterhood of support. †

Life is a journey and we are on the home stretch. Letís cheer each other on.

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Posted in Aging, Gratitude, inspiration, Life Event, Phyllis Kennemer, Writer, Uncategorized | 3 Comments »

Love those Italians!

Sunday, September 5th, 2010

When my NJ friend, Rosemary Di Giovine Vaccaro posted on Facebook: ìI love being Italian.î I had to respond. With respect to my late husband and childrenís heritage, who also love being Italian, hereís what I wrote:

Italians immigrated to Colorado in the 19th century. They found work in Denver, Pueblo, Trinidad, Colorado Springs and Louisville. My late husbandís Grandpa Roma was part of this immigration (wonder if, in some strange way, destiny directed us to the wild, wild, west).

For years we have celebrated Festival Italiano ñ A Food & Wine Festival in Belmar, Colorado and as in the past the family will again enjoy this fun filled Italian celebration.

Weíll get in the mood as soon as we see the colorful flag decorated streets and mingle with the crowds of Italian Americans and others who come to enjoy the authentic atmosphere, aromas and amora of Italy.

Weíll stroll along the mall admiring the handmade imported wares of Italian artisans, vendors who sell novelty items and perhaps buy a trinket or two to take home.

Weíll enjoy the special festivities: flag throwers from Florence, Italy, sample regional Italian wine, watch chef demonstrations, try to learn Italian, laugh at the grape stomping vat for children, cheer at gamers at the bocce ball tournament, and listen to the Italian music as we sing along and dance.

Weíll sample local and imported Italian wines and down a few beers to quench our thirst.

Weíll graze at the many food stands tasting traditional dishes like sausage & peppers, calzones, pizza, ravioli and other pasta dishes to satisfy our ethnic appetites.

Weíll take pleasure in the homemade pastriesóNapoleons, Cannoli, Cheesecake and more just because these delicious and sinful temptations are there.

Weíll nibble the traditional cookies like your grandmother made; the ones that are hard to resist óBiscotti, Spizzele, Cannoli, Zeppole, Macaroons, fig, almond, hazelnut and more, then wash it down with a cup of Esspresso.

If youíre inclined, check this out the site of last yearís gala event: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=voWZyE5MJSc. Enjoy the photos & music.

And just to let you know, Ro, this Irish girl from Downneck, has become a pretty good Italian cook! After years of being Italian via osmosis, collecting recipes from the whole Colella clan and cooking it all, how could I not be???

P.S. For anyone with plans of being in Colorado this Fall, Festival Italiano will take place September 11-12. Two fantastic days of Italian goodness!

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Posted in Helen Colella, Author, Life Event | 2 Comments »

Dog-gone it, it's my turn!

Sunday, August 1st, 2010

I am racing in the heat, and then I stop for a break and hang out my tongue. I get back up and sniff the grass, but I prefer it when I get a ride and can encounter the whole world, smells and all. I ride in a white bag sitting atop rolled-up towels.

My name is Zoey, and I am a very cute, very smart miniature dachshund. Hereís my stats: weight, 8.6 pounds; height, 2 hands; length, very, very long; age, 1 Ω years; cuteness factor, 10.

Shelley, the keeper of this blog, is letting me write this month. She and I blog on Shelleyís website, whatever it is all that tech stuff does. I just type.

I bet you donít believe that Iím typing, but Shelleyís brother rigged up a special dog-friendly keyboard with 1-inch keys that are in alphabetical order. Donít give me any of that QWERTY stuff. It was hard enough learning the ABCs and how to spell.

Shelley and I blog once a week. Weíre telling our story of how we met and bark about important subjects, like chasing birds, befriending feral cats and calling out to possible friends, human and dog alike.

Oh, the white bag, you ask. Shelley carries me in it when we go on walks and I donít feel like being on a leash. I let her know by taking a seat and looking around at beautiful nature. I like the bag for making me taller, plus itís nice to take a breather once in awhile. I am kind of squat and though the smells may be better at ground level, I like seeing†what's beyond the blades of grass or Shelleyís high heels. It is so busy with all the changes in smells and motions and noise; it reminds me of squirming all over my siblings before we parted ways.

(P.S. Shelley told me about her friend Heather's daughter Samantha, who has left us for greener pastures. Dog-gone it, I wanted her to play with me. I heard she is beautiful and kind and lovely and anyone like that is a friend of mine. I am sorry, Samantha,†your Mommy had to say goodbye to you before you got to experience all the world's smells and she got to see you become who you would become when you're very being was what made her want to sniff up so much love, she couldn't even keep†you in her heart, she had to let all that love flow into words and hugs and kisses, oh and so much, I can't even describe it. I'm just a dog, you know, and I don't understand love that big, but can anyone?)

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Posted in Heather Schichtel, Writer, Life Event, Shelley Widhalm, Writer | 3 Comments »

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