On Seeing Our Parents As Human

Seeing Our ParentsI’m realizing that at some point, we all see our parents through a lens we never anticipated. I’ve wanted to write about this for awhile — you know, how we all have that moment where we stop seeing our parents as superheroes and realize they’re human just like us. That metaphorical cape is suddenly gone, and we now see that our parents are just trying to do the very best they can in this life.

I suppose a little backstory is in order: For the last few weeks, Ms. Bear hasn’t been feeling like her go-go-go, speedy self. She’s felt overly tired, and, as Janelle and I noticed, her classic spark has disappeared. As you all know, this is very unusual, as Ms. Bear typically has far more energy than Janelle and I combined. Yes, you read that right. A woman in her early 60s can outpace two (young?) women in their 30s. It’s OK — we’ve learned to just accept it.

But back to Ms. Bear’s concerning symptoms. A blood test revealed that her thyroid numbers were out of whack. She struggled with her thyroid when she was in her 20s, shortly before she got married, and has been on medication ever since. Her numbers had been controlled and were holding steady — well, until now, that is.

After a few calls to her doctor and a trip to the pharmacy, she now has the magic elixir in her hands — a higher dose of her medicine — and she took the first dose this morning.

Hopefully, we’ll start to see Ms. Bear back to her old self really soon! Janelle and I are doing our best to take excellent care of her. We’ve been using a lot of words like “calm down,” “slow down” and “be gentle with yourself” because, for some odd reason, she seems to forget that. A LOT. Those words flow out of my mom’s mouth so easy when giving other people pep talks, but she seems incapable of taking her own advice. Weird, huh?

This whole experience, though, it’s made me just want to take care of Ms. Bear, you know? I suppose we all have that moment when we realize that, yes, we’re still our parents children, but we’re no longer “kids,” if that makes sense. We’re adults now, and maybe the time has come for us to be our own superheroes. Maybe our parents really are just human, and I’m not saying that like it’s a bad thing. Maybe our first glimpse of our parents as human is the first step in forging a deeper, more meaningful connection. Maybe it’s an invitation to have new types of conversations — a real chance to get to know each other in this new light.

Maybe, most importantly, it’s the beginning of something, not the end of something else.

I’m going to (try!) to have one of those meaningful conversations with Ms. Bear tonight. Will you join me and chat with your parent or parental figure in your life?? I’d love to hear what you’re talking about, if you feel comfortable sharing in the comments! xoxo

Family Photos: Ms. Bear Taking a Stroll Through the Woods

taking a stroll through the woods taking a stroll through the woodsWhoa, friends! It’s been a stressful couple of days for me! I’m still reeling from my experience and will be posting about it tomorrow, but do you know the person who helps get me through anything? My mom! And these photos of her taking a stroll through the woods on a summer day recently are really the perfect cure for any blues.

I don’t know how my mom does it, but she always knows exactly what to say to make me feel better. She’s like a walking motivational poster that instantly makes you feel better. She’s been through many dark times in her life, but she’s somehow managed to still see the world as a beautiful place. Her glass is still half full and that is incredibly refreshing! Sometimes I just want to soak up some of her positivity, radiance and light.

taking a stroll through the woods taking a stroll through the woodsWho is that person for you?? Who helps you see the light during those dark hours? After all, we all need someone like that, don’t we?

P.S. Ms. Bear Takes NYC…

[Thanks to Janelle for snapping these awesome pics!!]

Ms. Bear on Lessons Learned Through Oatmeal Cookies

Lessons Learned Through Oatmeal CookiesEditor’s Note: She’s baaaaack!!! By popular demand, actually! Over the years, my mom has gained a fan following of her own, so I asked her to guest post today about one of her recent escapades: Lessons learned through oatmeal cookies!! It’s a very delicious story, but I’ll let her tell it…

A summer day is as good a day as any to learn a lesson, isn’t it? Last Sunday was the day before I got out of school for the year, so I was feeling really great. Melissa suggested we make some oatmeal raisin cookies after I had bought one at the bakery and was raving about how soft and good it was. I was also complaining about paying 60 cents for one small cookie, so I figured this way I could have lots of cookies that wouldn’t cost anywhere near 60 cents a piece — I’m not cheap, really, just frugal! lol.

So, we set off to work. Now, I had looked up recipes on the Internet and specifically found one that said “soft” oatmeal cookies, as all my previous forays into the realm of oatmeal cookies had veered into the ever-crispy category, and I am not a fan of any crispy cookies! I followed that recipe to a “T” and the smell of cinnamon wafted through the house. I baked them for the least amount of time and even cooled them on my fancy cooling racks from Williams-Sonoma, a lovely gift from my niece Mona (I usually use aluminum foil..haha). Well, needless to say, they were not “soft” like the bakery cookies were.

Lessons Learned Through Oatmeal Cookies Lessons Learned Through Oatmeal CookiesBut, and here’s the lesson, they were still good! We had one every night this week and we all commented how good they were. So, I figure I learned a lesson here…sometimes you’ve got to be willing to accept something the way it is and you just might realize that, while it’s not what you expected, it is just as good in its own way.

Then, this past Saturday, on what would have been my 39th wedding anniversary, I was able to extrapolate this lesson to my life as it is now. It’s certainly not what I expected my life to be like today, but you know what? My life is still good, in its new way. I know Brian would be proud and happy to hear me say that. No tears shed on my anniversary, thanks to those small (and crispy!) oatmeal cookies!!

Lessons Learned Through Oatmeal CookiesSo, today, find something in your life that you may wish to change, accept it as it is, and see what happens. You may be surprised!

What My Mom Taught Me About Healing Through Helping Others

What My Mom Taught Me About HealingThe journey through grief and loss can be a minefield. After my father’s unexpected suicide in 2003, I felt like my world collapsed. And in a way, it did — I felt scared, confused, angry. My mom was going through the same thing. Not only did she lose her husband, but she lost her mom (my grandmother) just one year before. That kind of loss — the kind that comes back to back — is enough to make anyone want to bury their head in the sand. Or at least go into seclusion and never come out. But on the other side of that was something incredibly beautiful: What my mom taught me about healing.

Neither of us knew what to do or where to turn. But little did I know that a huge source of strength and solace would come from watching my mother. She’s a middle school teacher and began a Rainbows chapter at her school. The group, for students who have experienced loss, meets every week to do activities, talk and grieve together. Some lost parents while others lost grandparents, but there was one common thread that bound them all together: They were all trying to make sense of what happened. Throughout the year, she’d come home and tell me about the lesson she taught that week. Sometimes they watched a video, sometimes they read a book and sometimes they just talked about all the emotions they had been feeling that week. What struck me the most? How much her students seemed to be helping her too.

My mom knew what they were going through and was able to help them on their journey. Seeing her plan lessons and share a piece of herself taught me so much about grief and loss. Here she was, a widow at just 47, and she was taking the most painful experience of her life and channeling that into something to help others heal. She came out of herself at a time when all she wanted to do was retreat and shut out the world. She showed me that helping others through their grief helps you grieve too. When we take our heartbreak and help others, we ultimately help ourselves in the process. In the end, we heal ourselves too.

So, as we get closer to Mother’s Day, thank you, Ms. Bear, for teaching me about healing when I needed it the most. You’ll never know just how much I appreciate it — and just how much I admire you! xoxo

Thoughts on the Election: Where Do We Go Now?


I was all set to officially unveil the blog makeover yesterday, but in light of the last 36 hours, it just seems incredibly wrong right now. So I will hold off until next week. Instead, I wrote this essay. There are many things need to be said and felt and processed. We’re strong and please know that I am with you — today, tomorrow and always!! I love you all… xoxo

I come from a long line of strong women. My grandmother left her small hometown in Michigan when she was just 18 and headed to bustling Chicago for nursing school.

My mom is never prouder than when she’s telling the story of how she’s never missed voting in a presidential election. When I was growing up, she’d regale us with her historic tales, and the older I got, the more I started to realize that her stories were much more than idle dinner conversation. Her stories were lessons. To her, voting wasn’t just a passive act. It was a responsibility — the kind not to be taken lightly. The kind that demanded participation. The kind that called you to raise your voice and say, “Yes, I need to be that change I wish to see in the world.” The kind that asked one question: If not me, then who?

And over the years, I’ve come to appreciate my mom and her lessons more and more. Not so much for showing me exactly what to do, but more for showing me what’s possible and the differences just one person can make.

So I suppose it wasn’t even a question that I would register to vote. When I turned 18, it came as naturally as graduating high school and heading off to college; it was just what you did — a logical step in growing up.

Yet being born with a disability also helped stir that fire deep within me. Part of growing up, at least for me, meant being a voice. And being a woman? That meant being an even louder voice. Maybe that’s why I’ve stood in solidarity with Hillary Clinton since the early days of her campaign. She’s stood tall and strong, which has made me feel tall and strong, but I won’t pretend that last night’s election results didn’t sting. I found myself at a loss for words, devastated at the thought of a future that rebuilds the glass ceiling and replacing all the light with utter darkness. Like so many Americans, I wondered…what’s going to happen to our world?

But this morning, I got out of bed. I pulled the covers off and put my feet on the ground. I felt shaky, but my resolve was still there. The resolve I’d built up, inspired by Clinton, because that innate fighting spirit is something that can never be taken away from me. It can’t be shattered by a loss or a disappointment, no matter how big said disappointment is.

We’re all strong. I learned that from my mom and Clinton.

Clinton didn’t just break through the glass ceiling; she shattered it into a million tiny pieces, blazing a trail for generations behind her. Regardless of your political leanings, there’s no denying the importance and impact of her historic nomination. The first woman EVER nominated. That’s quite an accomplishment and a confirmation that, yes, things are changing for the better.

We all have stories to tell and if I’ve learned anything from the feminists in my life, it’s that we must never shy away from those stories. We have a duty and a responsibility to speak up and speak out — against injustice, against bullies and against those who try to tell us that we have no place being who we are.

Because who you are is such a beautiful thing, and that is something to be proud of. Our world needs you now more than ever before. Don’t hide in shame or fear. Be brave and be you.

Dare I say, it’s made me the (nasty) woman I am today!

[Statue of Liberty illustration by artist Karen Hallion]