February 14 – Valentine’s Day. It’s a holiday you either love (no pun intended) or despise. It really depends on where you are in your life: in a loving committed relationship, still looking for that perfect mate, or healing from a relationship that didn’t work out. So, for the purpose of this post, let’s assume that Valentine’s Day is a holiday happily celebrated by couples in committed and loving relationships. This will be the 29th Valentine’s Day I will celebrate with the man I promised to love and cherish for the rest of my life. We have celebrated this infamous day of love with bouquets of flowers, heart-shaped balloons, and boxes of chocolates. And, of course, thoughtful red and pink cards professing our love and admiration for each other. Truth be told we stopped exchanging Valentine’s gifts nearly ten years ago. I really can’t explain to you the reason for this long pause. I believe as a seasoned couple, our love for each other outgrew balloons and chocolates. However, we do still exchange Valentine’s cards that still make me giggle with delight. Although we don’t exchange token gifts anymore, we do show how much we love each other. Everyday. Examples how my husband shows his love for me: ·         Before I get into bed, he lays down on my side to “warm it up” because he knows I hate getting into a cold bed. ·         He texts me once or twice during the day to remind me how much he loves me. ·         He knows my somewhat complicated Starbucks order by heart. ·         He always unloads the dishwasher in the morning before leaving for work. ·         He cooks on the weekends. ·         He watches Hallmark movies with me…without unnecessary comments about “formula” plots. I already am aware! ·         He dutifully decorates the exterior of our home for Christmas because he knows I enjoy it. Examples how I show my husband how much I love him: ·         I make him Blueberry Buckle just because. ·         I make sure there are no errands, tasks, or distractions of any kind during the baseball playoffs. ·         I, without his knowledge, contracted the lawn service for our home.  See above. ·         I dutifully maintain the kitty litter because he has a “gag” reaction to the process. ·         I let him “own” most of the Sirius XM stations in our cars.  I am allowed one. ·         I watch baseball, football, and basketball games with him without unnecessary comments about “it’s just a game.” He is aware. ·         If there’s a new Star Trek or Star Wars movie to be seen, I make certain we have IMAX tickets. Just because. So, I guess you could surmise that in our household almost every day is Valentine’s Day. I know I am loved and my husband knows he is loved too. Truly, it’s not about gifts and grandiose gestures. Instead, it is the small, almost insignificant, unscheduled moments that continually remind us the feelings and commitment we share with each other. Sure, go ahead and exchange heart-shaped cards and boxes of chocolates. However, realizing the needs and likes of your spouse truly shows the love and care that you share. And if you are puzzled about the “what” and “how” of the aforementioned statement, perhaps you have some work to do on your relationship. I write this with love. Celebrate love! Be chill. Ellen

Hello again. I know you have missed me; thank you for the kind emails expressing concerns about my “disappearance.” I’ve missed you too. Essentially, I decided to take a year off. There has been quite a bit of change in my life and daily routine. Moving was a big part of that. Well, I’m back. Look for more posts about marriage, relationships, and parenthood. Be chill. Ellen XO Job Requirements of a Mother Mother’s Day is next week and although my cherubs are now adults and live distances away, they always seem to carve out time to honor me. Although they are both very busy and lead overly full lives, they take time and make efforts to say “Thanks Mom for always being there, no matter what.” Words like these are my trophies for the time, energy, and sacrifices I have made since I accepted the role of “mother.” Am I the perfect mother? No. However I do my very best, learning each day from my successes and missteps. The role of mother has changed as my children have transitioned into adults. However, there are some job descriptives that have remained constant. Below are some fundamental job requirements I have embraced as my role of mom. Sacrifice As a mother you start learning the meaning of sacrifice from the first day you find out you are expecting. I sacrificed sleep, routine hygiene, aspects of my career, finance resources, interests, and being spontaneous to name only a few aspects of my life before I decided to become a mother. And did I mention caffein? Frankly when I first became a mom, I was naïve how much I would have to give-up or put on hold. Sometimes, I became resentful. However, these were fleeting moments eclipsed by the love I gave and received by my son and daughter. Sacrifice is not always easy or convenient, but it is a necessary requirement of being a mother. Acceptance Sometimes you have premeditated ideas that don’t always go as planned. As a mother you need to accept that the likes, dislikes, or interests of your children do not always match your own. Certainly, you can have influence, but your child is uniquely “wired” with their own desires and goals. I have friend who is a concert cellist for a well-respected international orchestra. Ann lives and breathes music and cannot imagine life without playing her beloved instrument. When she gave birth to her daughter, Stella, she dreamed of the day that they would play classical music together. When her daughter turned five years old, she was gifted with a cello custom fitted for her size. Stella was enrolled in music lessons and most free time revolved around studying and practicing her cello. A pattern started to emerge. Stella routinely would get emotional right before her music lessons or practice sessions. Tears and tantrums became the norm. When Stella turned nine years old, she emphatically demanded to quit the cello. She had the vocabulary and courage to share with her parents that she no longer wanted to play her instrument, but instead join her friend’s playing soccer. It was difficult, but Stella’s parents accepted that she was not interested in music and allowed her to participate in sports. Today, at eighteen, Stella is a well-rounded, sports centered, honor student. Her mother learned to understand the verbal and non-verbal cues of her daughter. When Ann and her husband welcomed a son to their family, she didn’t make the same mistakes she unintentionally practiced with her daughter. Acceptance of your child’s likes, dislikes, passions, and unique wiring is showing your child love. Honesty I am always honest with my children. Even if it is uncomfortable or can have emotionally hurtful consequences, I am honest. Honesty builds trust, even at a young age. Subsequently, dishonesty can erode trust, at a young age. I am the youngest of three daughters. My oldest sister, Martha, became very ill when I was eight years old. My parents searched for answers and cures to help their oldest child recover. I have the distinct memory of asking my mother, many times, if Martha was ever going to get better. Was she dying? My mom would always respond “Yes, she is going to get better, of course.” In fact, my sister was dying and eventually succumbed to her illness. My mother knew this yet was not honest with me. From that day, I always questioned if my mother was truly being honest with me or avoiding difficult conversations. Now some people would defend my mother’s choice of untruths, thinking I was too young to comprehend the reality of death. However, I was very aware. I could see, hear, and touch the reality. Some would argue that my parents were being optimistic. However, I knew this was not the case by piecing together conversations my mother and father had amongst themselves. Once trust is compromised, it is difficult to reestablish. An effective, loving mother is always honest with their children. Available When my children need me, I am there. Sometimes they didn't directly express this desire, however, I instinctually knew. Being “available” sometimes goes hand in hand with “sacrifice.” My plans and personal goals were, at times, delayed or outrightly cancelled because I needed to be available for my kids. Now of course I am not writing about whims or ridiculous situations or demands. I am referring to events that shape character, reinforce trust, or are significant happenings in their lives at that time. I was preparing dinner when my teenage daughter walked into the kitchen and asked me to join her for a cup of coffee at her favorite refueling spot. Immediately, I stopped what I was doing, turned-off the oven, grabbed my jacket while heading out the door. Over coffee my daughter was asking for support concerning a decision she had made. She expressed that during her junior year of high school she did not want to participate on the school’s track and field team. She shared that academics were paramount to her and that her AP schedule was very demanding. She felt that track, a sport she had participated since middle school, was too much of a distraction from her studies. She concluded that she did not have time for both. After hearing her concerns and realizing she approached this conclusion in an analytical and mature way, I blessed her decision. Yes, dinner was nearly 90 minutes late that evening. Yes, the meal was somewhat overcooked. However, she knew I would be there when she needed me; the bond between daughter and mother had never been stronger. Being available establishes to your children they are your priority. Stand back As your child matures, you need to provide an environment whereby they can intellectually grow in tandem with gaining confidence and learning from different environments and situations. Do not be tempted to raise your child in an overly protective bubble, shielding them from situations, activities, and information that ultimately hinders them from forming their own opinions, experiencing joy and sorrow, and prevents them from making mistakes. Essentially, you are restricting your child’s intellectual, spiritual, and emotional growth by strategically raising them in this false and censored environment. The product of this type of parenting is lack of empathy, problem solving skills, grit, self-confidence, and resourcefulness. In my humble opinion, I would rather have my child aware and equipped then naïve and unsuspecting. I remember my then nineteen-year-old son boarding an airplane heading for Spain to study for a semester at the University of Barcelona. I was very uncomfortable that I was not a mere five-hour drive away; an entire ocean would separate us. In addition to his single suitcase and backpack, he had a post-it note tucked into his pocket with the address of his apartment for the next 5 months. Just some scribbled words on a 2” x 2” piece of paper. He loved is time in Spain. Most weekends would find him in a different country learning how to navigate different cultures and language barriers. When he returned home, he was different. He had grown intellectually, spiritually, and socially. He was confident in his decision making and problem-solving skills. Although it was not easy, I am so grateful I had the faith, strength, and courage to stand aside and let him “go.” A good parent trusts the education, guidance, and moral base they have provided their child. Then, when the time is right, stand back, and let your son or daughter pave their own path of interests, choices, and goals. Let them go. Being a mother is anything but easy. You are willing to sacrifice and accept their uniqueness. You are honest and make yourself available to them when they need you. However, the most difficult task is taking off the parental guard rails and standing back. You are not abandoning them. You will always be subtlety in the background lending an ear, giving an opinion, or just being their number one cheerleader. Embrace your role as mom. It sounds cliché, but it sincerely is the most important job you can have. You have enormous power and influence. And remember, you are a role model to your child. Happy Mother's Day! Be strong. Be chill, Ellen XO For help learning to build a marriage based on Sacrifice, Trust, Respect, and Grace go to www.twoheartsinlove.com.

It's December and time for Gene to take over the blog this month. Do you notice his love of music? Happy Holidays to all and you'll hear from me soon. In the meanwhile, Be Chill, XOXO! -Ellen What is commitment? Commitment can be defined in several ways. We must acknowledge that different kinds of commitment exist – commitment to raising children, commitment to washing the dishes, or commitment to saving money are all types of pledges that are negotiable between each half of couple in a relationship. However, when someone is in a truly committed and loving relationship, the definition expands to include monogamy and sexual exclusivity. This is what the covenant of marriage is based. Also, a dedication to communicate ideas, that can pose potential conflicts, is a type of commitment that can help navigate a relationship. A major dispute can be a showstopper if a commitment is not present to communicate, discuss, and agree about pivotal topics. This type of communication, especially early in a relationship, is a type of dedication that gives each partner a common direction to grow. As my relationship with Ellen developed, conversations included such topics as: · Children · Parenting · Family · Finances · Personal goals · Chores · Personal habits · Friends · Work I acknowledge some of these themes are larger than others, however small points can grow to become big, even huge. But the important idea is to communicate; talk about the big and come to a consensus and discuss the small before it becomes big. When my friendship with Ellen transitioned into a committed relationship, I can say that we both noticed some things, big and small, that were important to each of us and that helped us to understand and define our relationship. I believe in us. The first clue that I was in a committed relationship with Ellen was when I began using the pronoun “we.” That is, I was no longer an “I”. Before Ellen, “I took a bike ride” or “I went to the park.” Rather, conversations became “We took a bike ride” and “We went to the park.” In fact, sometimes when Ellen and I were in group conversations with others, we would start and finish each other’s sentences. I know we may have irritated some of our friends with our synchronicity. I can get ………… satisfaction. Another telltale sign that I was one half of a committed relationship was I felt a great deal of satisfaction with Ellen. I enjoyed being with Ellen. When I was away, I was thinking of her and wished to be with her. I did not want anything else, I was extremely satisfied with our relationship. I realized we were growing towards each other. I was “Over the moon!” Together as one. With that, I could also state that other people in my life were becoming less importance to me than my relationship with Ellen. When I was with her, I did not consider dating others or even notice other women. As an extension of that, my friends became less of a priority than my relationship with Ellen. I was also no longer a satellite of my Mother’s or Father’s family. When Ellen and I married, we created our own family with an established nucleus. While those other relationships’ were important, my commitment and marriage to Ellen became primary. This was especially important when our family expanded with the addition of children. The Yin to my Yang. I remember when Ellen and I were on a trip, traveling by car, and the GPS Ellen programmed to direct our path to the toll road interstate, kept guiding us off the highway to single lane country roads. We finally pulled over and I discovered Ellen had accidently programmed the Garmin to avoid toll roads. Now this mistake is not meant to poke fun of Ellen’s GPS programming flaws (she will readily admit that she is terrible with directions) but to point out how we complement each other. How she is the puzzle piece I was missing and she fit perfectly. And there are times that I needed assistance writing a newsletter article for my professional engineering society, and Ellen was able to help me focus on the thoughts that were already in my head, but I was not able to easily put down on paper. You see, she is the perfect lid to my pot, the perfect Yin to my Yang. Where I am weak, she is strong and where she is weak, I am strong. You needed me, you put me high on a pedestal. Let’s freely admit that we all have flaws; no one is perfect. Even though, like myself, my wife has shortcomings, I never would speak of them publically or among friends. Instead, I delight in emphasizing Ellen’s positive attributes – large and small. And my wife returns the consideration with my overt virtues. Essentially, I am my wife’s personal cheering squad, and she is mine. When I assumed this new role, I knew I was in a committed relationship. No Sacrifice at all. My willingness to sacrifice was additional evidence that I was in a committed relationship with Ellen. In fact, not only was I willing to sacrifice, I carried no expectation to receive anything in return. I know that some people tally favors that they do for their spouse or friends and they have expectations for future “courtesies’ in return. Sincerely, true “sacrifice” does not anticipate the expectancy for anything in return; there are no scales of equity, ever. A committed relationship reflects sacrifices made by each partner purely because that is what is best for the relationship, not what is best for the individual. Full stop. What about love? Lastly, I said earlier that I was going to talk about love. Love can be a full article by itself, but I can attest to my experience. When I met Ellen, I fell in love. But love does not necessarily mean commitment. Love can come quickly and hit you hard. You are together, having fun and Wham!, you are in love. But sometimes circumstances will get in the way of having a committed relationship. Situations including school, work, or family responsibilities sometimes interfere. Or the feelings of love are not returned. Honestly, your heart, mind, and soul need to be ready to find true love. I hope my observations bring some perspective. I am grateful that I am in a committed relationship with Ellen and that I will be the rest of my life.

Note: I first published this post almost two years ago. I think it's worth a repost because the holidays are fast approaching. I encourage you to accept and utilize this tool in the hopes of not only surviving the holidays, but finding true joy in them. ------------------------------- We have a tool, in our relationship tool box, that is sometimes underused or ignored altogether. Matter of fact, most cannot even comprehend its power. As with all tools, some degree of practice is needed with the purpose of becoming skilled with its usage. Some might even call this tool a shield of protection. Others may boldly declare it a weapon. I use it to define boundaries for myself and my family. Whatever the intention, value this tool, learn how to use it, and stand strong when initiating it. What is this powerful tool? Simply, it is the word “No.” Many times when my husband and I were mentoring couples we heard excuses from each half of a couple regarding family and individual priorities, meddling in-laws, or children that dominate a household. My husband would often address the very large elephant in the room: “Why didn’t you just say NO?” The responses were generally deafening. Crickets. This was sometimes followed by “We tried, but we were ignored.” Then more excuses. Below are examples of “No!” from my marriage. Make no mistake, using this tool took practice, not to mention inner-strength and tenacity. Recipients of this word initially would reject it, believing it was a one-time event. However, with repeated use and steadfast firmness of intention, the use of this tool will be understood and respected. Silent Night It was a wonderful Christmas day. Our kids were young, the outside was blanketed with a fresh covering of snow, the roast was in the oven and my mother was visiting for the holiday weekend. I loved my mother dearly, but she had a character flaw of being overly critical to the one’s she loves. Harsh in fact. My mother, didn’t realize the hurt she created. Or she didn’t care. Once her opinion was established, it rarely changed. That Christmas afternoon, my mother began her critical offerings of me. It was one thing after another. The breakfast cinnamon buns were overly sweet. My hair needed a trim. The base of the lamp had a ring of dust surrounding it. My children were watching these encounters. My husband could not help but notice. My mother’s comments turned a day of celebration in to an environment of walking on egg shells. Then my husband stood-up and made a statement. “Jane, Ellen may choose to overlook and roll with your criticism. However, when you criticize the mother of my children, in front of those children, it becomes my business.” Then he ended his statement by stating if she continued with this type of behavior, she would be asked to leave. I gasped. My mother became silent, for a little while anyway. Then as if she misunderstood or fundamentally didn’t comprehend my husband’s “NO” ultimatum, my mother re-started her critical commentary. Without missing a beat, my husband stood-up, calmly walked to the closet to retrieve my mom’s coat, grabbed his car keys and firmly stated it was time for her to leave. Then he made the silent four hour round trip drive to take her home. My mother and I did not speak for nearly two months. During that break, I believe my mother did a lot of soul searching. She did not apologize, but she did think before she spoke limiting her critical commentary. She understood that when my husband said “NO” or “NO more” he meant it. The following Christmas was very different. There were established boundaries. And there was joy. My mother is no longer living. However, during the last years of her life there were boundaries in place that resulted in respect and love. The year before she passed, she shared that she was sincerely respected my husband and the way he protected his family. She knew that I had married a man of strong character. She loved him too. Batter-Up! My husband and I place enormous value on having dinner together as a family most evenings during the week. The dinner table is a place where concentrated family communication takes place. This is where you discover what is impacting your children, what is happening at school, and where worries, fears, and curiosities are discussed. I cannot express to you the value of this time. It is time whereby potential troubles and setbacks can be averted. Most importantly, your children will seek the insights and advice directly from their parents rather than placing confidence in the opinions of classmates or individuals that don’t have the best interest of the child front and center. Beware, there are perceived innocent circumstances that begin to challenge this precious time together as children begin elementary school. What are they? Extracurricular activities! Please know I do not have issues with soccer, football, swim lessons, music lessons, or ballet. What I am trying caution parents against is the quantity of these activities. Although tempted by permission slips casually tucked into a child’s backpack, colorful informational postcards mailed to your home, or community enrichment catalogs chock full child activities, you need to fundamentally protect dinner table time. My husband and I did this by saying “No” to more than one activity at a time. Essentially, it was soccer OR piano, swim OR football, dance OR karate. At the beginning of the next calendar cycle, our children could decide to switch to a difference activity or stay with the same. With multiple children, each participating in an activity, it was a struggle to protect dinner time. I can’t imagine the stress it would create if each child participated in multiple activities. Peer pressure also crept into our lives. Friends of our children would ask them to join them in an activity. This was acceptable as long as it was limited to a single sport or program. And yes, my husband and I had to lovingly say “No” to our children when they wanted to participate in multiple activities. And yes, dinner time would fluctuate depending on the day of the week and the activity. Sometimes we ate 6:00 PM, other times 8:30 PM. However, we almost always broke bread together, talking, sharing, and advising. Today, as adults, my children reflect on the limitations my husband and I enacted. And, yes, they are appreciative. We are a very close family. Both our son and daughter still find it important to talk with each other even though they are hundreds of miles apart. They recall family activities, candid conversations, and times of reassurance. These memories, most likely, would not have occurred if my husband and I would not have wielded our tool of “No.” Again, the power of the word “No” is an amazing tool that will prioritize your family goals, simplify your life, and create boundaries to shield your home from distractions and potential harm. Be warned, some will not understand and may disapprove when you use this amazing tool. However, if you persist and remain steadfast, acceptance will come. Be strong! Be Chill. XOXO

The word “Vacation” should conjure thoughts of rest and relaxation with the goals of making lasting memories while simultaneously recharging one’s mind and body. So when the month of June arrives, the thoughts of where and when to vacation becomes the center of dinner table conversations. Like food, we all have different tastes and wants. This includes my cherubs as well. For myself, I crave rest with peace and quiet. Rolling tides, warm sand, SPF 50, and beach umbrellas come to mind. For my husband, exploration and adventure are paramount. For my children, excitement and thrills are a must. Once we decide on a date and location, the planning commences. This includes the usual decisions like whether to drive or fly, the accommodations, and most importantly, the activities offered. This is where conflict begins. Let me explain with a bit of our family history. It all starts with the man I promised to love and cherish for the rest of my life – my husband. He treats “vacation” as though it is a work assignment. He researches every detail and offering of the location, plans every day, each activity, and all meals. And ready for this, all this information and planning is succinctly outlined into Microsoft Project with complementary spreadsheets imported into each of our phones. I am not kidding. Most people marvel at my husband’s affinity for research and planning. Honestly, it what makes him highly effective in regards to his profession. However, for my children and myself, Gene’s spreadsheets are a source of stress mixed with a tad of frustration. The anti-vacation if you will. One year the destination of Hawaii was chosen for our family vacay. The morning after the decision was made to travel to the Aloha state, I entered my office to find a Post-It note affixed to my computer screen. “Mom, Emma and I would like to speak with you sometime today. It’s important!” was the message clearly printed with the word “important” underlined twice. I called my cherubs into my home office and inquired what was on their minds. My son, who was ten years old at the time, started the conversation. “We want you to talk with dad about Hawaii.” As the discussion unfolded, it became apparent that my children had issues with the “itineraries” that their father would be creating for the upcoming vacation. Additional statements during our meeting included: “not relaxing,” “no down-time,” and their loathing for my husband’s over-used phrase: “time to get up, we’re burning day light.” I listened. I emphasized. We ended the meeting with me telling them not to worry and that I would talk to dad about the situation. I also made certain that my cherubs realized how incredibly proud of them for I was for sharing their thoughts and feelings with me. Next, I had to utilize my parenting problem-solving skills to remedy the situation while not being accusatory or demonstrating lack of appreciation for all my husband’s efforts. This was indeed a delicate situation; I was working with both children’s concerns in tandem with an adult ego. The following day, after the dishes were cleared from the dinner table, I introduced my family to an oversized calendar outlining the days of our future trip. Clearly printed on each day was a name – mine, my husband’s, or one of my children’s. My instructions were simple: the person whose name appeared on a particular day, owned that day. They were responsible for researching and planning the day from sunrise to sunset. This included both activities and meals. Nothing was off the table. Each child took charge of two days while the adults each claimed three days of planning. This plan allowed my children to have a voice while still providing ample opportunities for my husband to do his planning. Furthermore, this solution encouraged my cherubs to research, plan, and make decisions for the family; it gave them a sense of ownership, importance, and value. Vacation finally arrived! We landed in Maui ready to make family memories. Day 1 belonged to Ian. After dining on pineapple pancakes we headed to Snorkel Bob’s to be fitted with the necessary equipment for a full day of snorkeling. We had tri-tip sandwiches for dinner and ended the day relaxing on chaise lounges on the beach gazing at stars. Day 2 was Gene’s. “Time to rise and shine!” could be heard through-out our rented condo. It was 3 am. An hour later a van arrived at our vacation home where we all staggered on board for the forty-five minute drive to the summit of Mt. Haleakala, a dormant volcano on the island. Following our van was a truck carrying bicycles and gear for our adventurous ride on two wheels, from summit (6500 ‘) to Maui’s north shore. Almost a thirty mile ride, all downhill of course. The ride was exhilarating, the views were jaw-dropping. Halfway through our ride, we stopped at an orchid farm for lunch and dined on gourmet sandwiches amongst stunning flora. At the end of the day, we had a simple dinner at our rental and finished the day gazing at stars, again. Emma took charge of day three. My daughter is lovingly referred to as our “hippie chick” daughter and like her mother, appreciates an “open schedule” kind of day. This means sleeping in, an indulgent breakfast, and lots and lots of beach time. It a “fly by the seat of your pants, SPF 50 type of day. Finally my day arrived. I elected to travel to a lavender farm positioned high on the hills of the island. The destination was stunningly draped in a collection of purple hues. The scent was intoxicating. And the views were postcard perfect. My day involved hiking, dining on lavender laced scones with tea, and plenty of opportunity for personal reflection while relaxing on perfectly positioned lounge chairs placed throughout the massive property. The remainder of our vacation was filled with relaxation, adventure, and discovery. Nearly every day ended on the beach with star gazing and family conversation. My experiment, with each family member taking ownership of designated days of our trip, was a success. We returned home rested with memories that reflected our individual personalities and needs. What was missing from our escape? Namely: Arguing, Rolling of the eyes, Resentment, And tantrums from exhaustion. Here’s the takeaways from this experimentation: Listen to your children, Don’t try to change an individual’s habits, problem solve around them, Open your mind to new ideas, Trust the opinions of others, And above all, “Go with the flow!” Since that vacation, every trip since then has been planned in a similar fashion. Does my husband continue to make spreadsheets? Well, yes. However, they are limited to 24 hour blocks of time. And he seems satisfied by this limitation. Now, go plan some memory making. Be chill. XOXO!

Did you miss me? I took the summer off and spent time with my cherubs who were home from college for the summer. Additionally, I worked with a web designer to upgrade and improve Twoheartsinlove.com. Take a look. It’s still a “work in process” while final tweaks are made with the goal of making the “site” easy to use while embracing real-life content and reaffirming that a STRONG marriage is not necessarily perfect. During the month of August, my children returned to college. My daughter is completing her senior year in upstate New York, while my son started medical school in Michigan. Honestly, I feel blessed. My kids are healthy, truly love learning, and have bright futures ahead. They have lofty goals, most importantly of which is contributing to the greater good by positively affecting their communities. Yes, I am one proud and relieved mama! “Relieved” you are most likely questioning? Indeed. Once the new school year commenced, my daughter’s school’s parent forums erupted in an avalanche of questions and concerns. Here are some paraphrased examples: My freshman son has been on campus three days and has not made any friends! Help! My daughter saw a mouse running down the hall of her dorm. I’m disgusted and calling the school president. I can’t believe there’s no air conditioning in the dorms. This is unacceptable for the money we’re paying! My son / daughter claims the washing machines are broken; all his / her clothes are pink after laundering. First, let me say in no uncertain terms that I do not minimize loneliness or discount that some people, young or otherwise, find it challenging to develop friendships. I, too, am a reserved person that find it difficult to make small talk which seems to be the prerequisite for getting to know someone. The above acknowledgement aside, my impulse is to question if parents sincerely prepare their children for the transition to independence. Or do parents secretly not want their kids to be self-directed and independent? Or perhaps parents, consciously or unconsciously, do not want to surrender control of the lives of their offspring? Ouch. Ok, put your darts away. I really do not want to be a target for your disapproval. If I touched a nerve, do not expect an apology. However, if I gave you pause to “check yourself” (see a prior blog post “Sometimes You Need To Check Yourself”) give yourself a pat on the back. Mission accomplished. The role of the parent, in my opinion, is that of a teacher, mentor, and of course, a source of unconditional love. As children gain life experiences, which include occasions for personal problem solving, filters for what is true, honest, and just, and lessons of empathy, their foundations for independence, morality, and compassion begin to develop. Essentially, if a child is not provided opportunities to choose, solve, and love independently from their mother’s or father’s oversight they will be unprepared for the peaks and valleys that assuredly will come with adulthood. Now, of course, parents need to provide guidance and opinions. However, there is a difference between ruddering and controlling. When my daughter was five years old, I took her shopping to select the perfect holiday dress. I fell in love with a selection that included ruffles and lace. It was everything I thought a Christmas dress should be: traditional, plaid, and chock-full of sparkle. However, my very opinionated kindergartener clearly expressed with crossed arms that she did not agree. I struggled to put my “wants” aside so that she could express her opinion. And choose she did– a dark green, almost back, velvet frock that was absent of lace and ruffles. As a parent I could have forced my will and purchase what I deemed perfect. However, instead, I decided to let my daughter know that her opinion was valued. I empowered her and she ran with it. This situation was the beginning of her becoming a young lady that is not afraid to express an opinion and exercise decisiveness. Understand and embrace that small lessons, commencing from infancy to adulthood, are cumulative and foundational. Let’s return to the concerns expressed in the college parent forums: Parents try to avoid managing your child’s friendships. Friendships are developed, not instantaneous. Your kids will find their tribe. Trust me. Mice happen. When the weather transitions from summer to autumn, small pests look for warmth. Doors that are innocently left ajar are invitations for critter pilgrimages. Furthermore, if my son or daughter called home complaining about mice, my response would be “So, how’d you solve this?” Hopefully their response would include ideas such as keeping doors closed, storing food in sealed containers, and purchasing a mouse trap or two (I recommend the sticky types). And most importantly, don’t call the school complaining. They have larger problems to solve including keeping our cherubs safe from COVID. Truth be told, my children have forbidden me to call their schools complaining about anything. In their words, if it’s important to them “they will take care of it.” When I attended college, eons ago, air conditioning was a rare luxury. By rare, I mean almost never. Somehow I survived, and so will your cherubs. Being uncomfortable, for small windows of time, teaches lessons of survival while building empathy for those where indoor cooling is nearly nonexistent. Think soldiers serving in the Middle East. As for laundry, allow your children to take ownership of household chores. As soon as my kids could recognize colors they helped me separate laundry into whites, darks, and colors. As they grew, they were taught about the significance of water temperatures as well as the “do’s and don’ts” of additives, including bleach. Here’s my point: allow your children to mature. As years pass and life lessons become building blocks for their future, begin taking baby steps away from managing your kids and let them build wisdom. Teach and prepare them. And remember they will make mistakes. However with your guidance, they will grow from them. Remember, love comes in many forms. Stepping back and letting go is one of them. Be chill. XOXO!

I beg your pardon I never promised you a rose garden Along with the sunshine there's gotta be a little rain sometime When you take you gotta give so live and let live and let go oh oh oh oh I beg your pardon I never promised you a rose garden When Lynn Anderson released her hit single Rose Garden in 1970, I am more than certain she didn’t realize she was singing one of my fundamental secrets to a strong relationship with nearly anyone, my husband and kiddos in particular. The secret I am referring to: rarely promise anything. Really! I realize the aforementioned statement may seem dark, even harsh. However, when one promises something, typically there is a larger than average probability that disappointment will follow. Of course I promised to cherish, love, and respect my husband when we exchanged marriage vows nearly 26 years ago. And I meant it. As a mother, I promised that I would love, protect, and be an anchor for my cherubs. And I meant this as well. Heck, my husband and children know I would walk barefoot on glass in a firestorm to keep them safe. Why? Because I don’t make absolute statements often. However, when I do promise something, it always becomes reality. Always. Allow me to share some background information about my childhood. I grew up in a household where promises were made and oftentimes disregarded, forgotten, or replaced with more critical priorities. The word “promise” was thrown about much like swatting mosquitos during a hot summer day. The nonverbal message that resulted from these broken promises was “your needs and wants are not important. At least not at the present time.” And please do not blame my parents. Although they wanted to “please,” there were always circumstances that interfered. Namely, my oldest sister, who required special attention and needs, in tandem with serious health issues, always was the priority in our home. I tried to understand the situation as a child, but the reality was one commitment after another was not met. So I grew up not believing nearly every commitment my parents made to me, resulting in lack of trust and an overall feeling unimportance. When I became a wife and parent I reflected on my past and knew the word “promise” was not going to be part of my everyday vocabulary. Instead, I use phrases like “I will try my very best,” “I hear you and I know what you are asking is important.” Because of this, my son and daughter believe me, trust me, and know they are a priority. My husband as well. The word promise is not vacant from my life, but it is only used when there is 100% certainty. Here’s some examples: “God’s love is unwavering. I promise.” “If you always give your best effort, I will always be proud of you. I promise” “I will always be your loudest and most enthusiastic cheerleader. I promise.” “There is always a silver lining in even the darkest situation. I promise.” “When you call or text me, I will always respond. I promise.” Sometimes I hear and see parents being lured into the “promise trap.” Recognize this type of situation and avoid it at all costs. Example of a promise trap: “Mom, if I’m good while we’re in the supermarket can we go for ice cream? Promise?” First and foremost, this type of dialogue is bribery or even extortion. Furthermore, you will be establishing a regrettable pattern for nearly all behaviors. Also, cooperative behavior should be the expectation and not a negotiation. The best and most effective rewards are spontaneous and unexpected. Example at the conclusion of a successful shopping trip: “Because the two of you (my children) were so helpful in the supermarket, after dinner let’s go for ice cream.” Notice I did not use the word “promise?” Does choosing not to use the word “promise” communicate that my offer was empty or not reliable? Absolutely not! However, unavoidable obstacles can throw roadblocks in even the best planned scenario. Examples include illness, weather, and unplanned emergencies. Situations like the aforementioned should be rare. Regardless, things just sometimes happen. Here’s the two takeaways from my decision to not use the word “promise” often: Words matter. Don’t repeat the missteps of your parents. I know I’ve written a few times before that one’s most important role as a parent is that of a role model. When your cherubs eventually become independent and leave their nest, they will carry with them lessons that will act as a foundation for when they become a spouse or a parent. Hopefully, they will be lessons enveloped in love and trust. In 1970, Lynn Anderson was prophetic when she sang about promises and rose gardens. I am certain her music was not meant to be a blueprint for relationships. But it kind of is. Choose words wisely. Build trust. And when you do promise something, make certain it happens. 1970? Gosh, I feel old!

Note: I first published this post almost one year ago. I think it's worth a repost because May and Mother's Day are near. Sending love to mother's (and grandmother's) everywhere. Your roles are vital and your sacrifices are sincerely appreciated. Look forward to a new post soon. I promise (now, there's a hint). My birthday is soon. In fact, I was born on Mother’s Day. Depending on the year, my birthday generally lands on or near the same day that is set aside to honor moms everywhere. For my overly practical, efficiency centered spouse, this was a near perfect scenario – a “Twofer.” The man I promised to love and cherish for the rest of my life automatically concluded that our family could celebrate both my birthday and Mother’s Day on the same day. Same people. One dinner celebration. Shared gifts. This was my husband’s plan. That is until I clearly and succinctly established some rules. First, before reviewing my rules or guidelines, I used the communication skills I outlined in my Be Heard and Understood section of this website, to lovingly educate my husband about gifts - especially since becoming a mother. I also will remind readers that my husband and I decided that it would be best for our family that I shelve my career to stay at home to raise the cherubs I call my children. Although this was a huge decision that consisted of thoughtful decision making and planning, it also meant no paycheck for me, zero “Atta girls” acknowledging jobs well done, let alone performance awards, raises or promotions. The bottom line is that there are a handful of days of year, namely Christmas, my birthday, wedding anniversary, and yes Mother’s Day that I deem my paydays, Atta girls, and most importantly acknowledgement of my hard work and dedication to my family. The aforementioned days are mere 24 hour blocks of time that are set aside to honor two important concepts – Appreciation and Love. Do the quick math. If there are roughly 8760 hours in a year, I am asking for 96 of those hours, or 1.1 percent of a year, to say thank you and I love you for placing our family as a priority. Simple and not unreasonable, right? Ok, now to the short list of rules as it pertains to receiving gifts from my husband: Rule #1: If you are considering a gift that takes batteries or has an electrical cord, think again. I cherish gifts that are personal as opposed to utility. I truly am not interested in gifts that can help me cook better, clean faster, or organize more efficiently. Rule #2: I like gifts that say “You’re worth it.” By this I mean every mother has something they selfishly covet, but deem unnecessary or frivolous therefore dismissing it. Receiving something that’s sole purpose is to be pretty shouts “you’re beautiful and worth this.” This type of gift is essentially an item that one would never purchase for themselves. Rule #3: Gifts do not have to be expensive. However, they do have to be thoughtful. Handmade gifts are awesome. Rule #4: Know my Love Language. Mine is time. A gift of fun, quiet, or relaxation is always welcomed and appreciated. And most importantly- Rule #4: Mother’s Day and my birthday are NOT to be celebrated together. Never ever. I deserve two days, two dinners, two gifts. I came up with these rules after receiving a skillet for Christmas years ago. Although it was a nice skillet, with the latest non-stick technology, it did not say “Thank you and I love you.” Instead, I felt the gift said “Cook more, cook faster!” Did I mention I really don’t like practical gifts? Favorite gifts I have received: Beautiful high quality personalized stationary designed for me by my husband. I am old fashioned as I enjoy writing Thank You notes to acknowledge someone’s generosity towards me or my family. This gift allows me to do this while making a statement of style and design. I also love receiving letters from my husband. I have boxes and boxes of notes, lovingly penned by him. They are thoughtful, very personal, and almost always make me tear up. I truly value and cherish these. I also appreciate surprise weekends away with my spouse. I love one-on-one time and spontaneity as well as the fact that he does all the planning including arranging for childcare when my cherubs were young. Many gifts I have received from my husband are home-runs. Others have been doubles or singles. However since receiving that skillet many Christmas’s ago, there have been few strike –outs. Why? Because I took the time to lovingly and thoughtfully educate the man I love about my likes and dislikes. I provided him a road map with explanation. He listened and he has embraced the rules. Is he tempted to break or bend a rule with the occasional purchase of an electronic tool or gizmo? Yes. However, my now adult children remind him of the guidelines and keep him on track. Remember, it’s all about communication. Happy Birthday to me! Happy Mother's Day to moms everywhere! XOXO!

There’s a lesson seared in my memory that has helped to shape who I am and redefine my responsibilities as a mother and my role as a partner to my husband. First let me share, if you haven’t already figured it out, I am an organizer. I believe everything, and I mean everything, has a place. I despise clutter of any kind. Furthermore, I strive to have most horizontal surfaces in my home, the kitchen in particular, to be free of unnecessary stuff. This means no random junk mail, no misplaced dishes, no out-of-date magazines or newspapers. To name only a few things I consider room chaos. Now, please don’t form the wrong impression of me. Truly, I am a laid-back, go-with-the-flow individual. However, like most, I do have my “buttons.” Mine is disorder. “Mess” to me brings about uneasy feelings. Also, realize when I am in someone else’s home that does not share my anti-clutter philosophy, I do not make judgments of any kind. Like everything else in life, we all have our likes and dislikes, situations we tolerate, and others we find intolerable. So this brings me to the pivotal lesson I learned over twenty years ago. A dear friend was over to my home to have coffee and to help plan a wedding shower for a mutual pal of ours. Now is the time to mention that this friend, Lynn, is a licensed and well-respected psychologist, specializing in assisting children with anxiety. I will also add that Lynn is very observant, which is the reason she is truly remarkable in her profession. Furthermore, she is one of my dearest friends where the foundation of our relationship is trust and honesty. Lynn and I were in the middle of creating a guest list for the get-together we were planning when she casually placed her flip-flop-clad feet on my coffee table. I looked up from my list of party invitees, my mouth gaping in disbelief. Lynn responded to my nonverbal shock: “It REALLY bothers you that I put my feet on your table? Doesn’t it? You’re totally distracted by my feet on your coffee table, aren’t you?” “Well, I believe feet don’t belong on tables of any kind,” I responded. “Instead of this situation, what if I had tossed my coat onto your entry floor when I arrived,” Lynn continued. Then she said, “Look at your home, everything is neat and tidy, everything in its place. You even have untouched vacuum lines in your carpet.” I was without words. “I say this with love, my dear friend, if you don’t relax a tad with your “standards” your kids will be on a therapist’s couch by the time they are eight years old.” At first, I felt attacked by Lynn’s comments. Even offended. However, over the next handful of days, my thoughts were hijacked by her observations. I started asking myself questions: · Am I over-the-top with my “everything has a place” standard? · Do I cause anxiety in my home? · Are my children affected by my need for order? Just the fact that I was asking myself these questions made me realize “I was obligated to check myself.” I knew I needed to work on myself. That same evening I surveyed my home, as I usually do, before I headed to bed for the night. My cherubs left their school backpacks slung onto the back of a kitchen chair. My husband left a half-filled coffee mug next to his computer. And the living room carpeting was shadowed with footprints! Gasp! I decided to walk away and let the situation remain. I did not move the backpacks to the mudroom hooks, nor did I remove the mug from my husband’s desk and place it in the dishwasher, and I left the vacuum cleaner silent, leaving the footprints in the carpet. The next morning, my husband packed-up his briefcase before leaving for work. Surveying his workspace, to make certain he didn’t leave anything important behind, he noticed his mug filled with stale, now cold, coffee. He quickly grabbed it and placed it in the dishwasher. My children managed to find their backpacks even though they were not stowed in their customary location. And somehow I had managed to survive without waking-up to neat lines groomed into the carpet. Over the next several weeks, I worked on changing my habits. My kid's rooms became somewhat cluttered, without my daily intervention. My internal rule had dramatically changed: If I didn’t see pests or rodents nesting where my kids' sleep AND there were no unpleasant odors escaping from behind their bedroom doors, I was somewhat relaxed with the situation. Now I would be fibbing if I thought the situation was ideal, but I forced myself to focus on other things. Closing doors, keeping the chaos out of sight, helped significantly. What I did notice was a more relaxed environment that was a product of my “self-check.” A few weeks later, Lynn visited again to help accomplish more baby shower planning. Half-way through our meeting, I finally blurted “Do you notice anything different?” Without missing a beat, Lynn responded “You mean the footprints in the carpet? Yep, I noticed.” And she smiled. Lynn and I chatted about the children she has as patients that are consumed by anxieties that negatively impact their lives. Many times these behaviors are initiated by the hang-ups of their parents. These might include fears, controlling mannerisms, obsessive wants, to name only a few. Some are minor, others can be sincerely troublesome. She then congratulated me for wholeheartedly embracing “her words of love” and initiating a “self-check” of myself. Lynn’s words were not critical nor mean-spirited. They were, in fact, words of caution. I consider them a gift. We all have “buttons.” When these life demands start negatively affecting the ones we love, we must admit to ourselves that a problem exists. Take time to sincerely analyze if your habits are healthy for you and for others. And if a friend gently reminds you of priorities, as Lynn did for me, lower your defenses and consider it a gift and a reflection of a strong friendship. Remember, you are first and foremost a role model to your children. If they witness you “self-checking” and addressing potentially harmful behaviors, they will become students of this same healthy exercise. Be open-minded. Change is never easy. However, you and your family are worth the work. Trust me. I know. Thank you, Lynn. I couldn’t ask for a better bestie.

Let’s acknowledge one simple truth: life is short, too short. Most readers of this blog post, at one time or another, have yearned for extra time whether it be minutes, hours, or years. Generally, this desire is fueled by regret. Sometimes it is driven by one or several of life’s curveballs. At times, it is contentment centered. So with the acknowledgment that time is valuable, why do we allow others to influence this precious commodity by stealing our JOY? I was dining in a restaurant a few months ago when I witnessed an interaction between a server and his customer. Seated at a table adjacent to mine was a diner who never seemed to be satisfied with anything. He was harsh and lacked civility. His waiter was gracious, patient, and truly wanted to please his guest. It soon became apparent that this diner was angling for a free meal even though he consumed all but a few meager crumbs on his plate. I could plainly hear the dialogue between the server and the diner. I could see, through the body language of the waitperson that he was breaking under the near abuse of the restaurant guest. Finally, the customer left and without leaving a well-deserved gratuity. I signaled to this same server that I needed a warm-up to my coffee. I inquired how his day was going. He replied: “Not so great” in a voice that reflected his response. I learned he was a student at a nearby university where he attended classes between the breakfast and dinner shifts. I then asked him why he let someone he did not know and with an obvious less-than moral agenda “steal his JOY?” He stared blankly at me. I continued. “You went above and beyond for your guest. You did your job. You cannot let people like this affect your mood or your self-confidence. You need to find a way to repel poor and unjustified behavior of others. Otherwise, you will burn-up.” A few minutes later he returned to my table and thanked me for my “kind words” of encouragement. He said, he “really needed to hear my advice.” I tripled my usual tip to make-up for the guest that left nothing and jotted “You are a blessing” on the back of the restaurant copy of the receipt. The lesson: Life is too short for your JOY to be stolen from people who do not know and most likely will never see again. I read about an automobile accident that occurred on a highway I often travel. Apparently, one driver “cut-off” another car as he aggressively tried to overcome bumper-to-bumper rush hour traffic. In turn, the offended driver responded with dangerous driving maneuvers accompanied by hand gestures that signaled his anger. The end result of this exercise in road rage was a serious accident involving four autos. Fortunately, no one was seriously injured beyond a few scrapes and bruises. However, the cars involved were damaged beyond reasonable repair. The article mentioned airbags, Emergency Response Teams, and a highly traveled highway that was closed for nearly two hours while cars were towed and a full assessment of the situation was detailed. While reading this news article I thought “I could have been one of those four cars involved” and “Someone could have been killed.” The lesson reflected upon: “Why would you allow a driver, lacking maturity and responsibility, steal your JOY and perhaps your life. Let poor behavior, driving or otherwise, go. Just let it go.” My daughter plays golf. In fact, she played Varsity Golf for four years while in high school. She loves everything about the game - strategy, sportsmanship, comradery. During her senior year, she was matched against a school that had a reputation for being “cutthroat.” She anticipated playing against a team that was well-trained, rule-abiding, and seasoned competitors. However, what she did not expect were shocking behaviors that included name-calling, sabotage, and outright cheating. This team’s apparent strategy was to distract and break the focus of the opposing team. Unfortunately for this squad, my daughter was unaffected by poor play and less-than-honest sportsmanship. She knew she was the better athlete and person. The outcome: my daughter and her team prevailed. The lesson my daughter learned: Don’t let less-than-honest, fair behavior steal your JOY or your win. Think about the times when you allowed someone to steal your JOY. Perhaps the thief was an in-law, a boss, a teammate. More likely than not, the joy-stealer was someone you didn’t know – a random person with which you had a brief encounter. In either situation, you have the ability to prevent the thievery of your JOY by asking the magic question: Are they worth it? Is this situation worth it? Is it worth it to be “right” even though the consequence is losing your JOY? Sometimes the answer will be “yes.” Most times, however, if you really think about it, your response will be “no.” Helpful aids: * Know who you are. (Kind, generous, patient, honest, considerate, a parent, a spouse …). * Know who you are not. (Callous, gluttonous, impatient, deceitful, selfish, self-absorbed…). If you are secure with who you are and who you are not, you have nothing to prove in any situation or with any person. Let missteps and misdeeds of others “go!” In your mind and heart don’t allow thieves of your JOY define who you are. Protect your JOY with the armor of who you are! Don’t react to people or events that sincerely don’t matter; you will have a fuller, happier life for it. Remember, life is short. Too short for regret. Be JOYful!

This blog post is anything but easy. It invokes memories of loss and pain. Frustration. Anger. And yes, healing. There will be no sprinkling of humor or wit. It will be unvarnished truths that represent difficult times in my life where I questioned myself, my purpose, and sometimes the presence of God. This entry is not meant to conjure tears or to make the reader upset. Instead, its purpose is to demonstrate the power of love, heart, and personal strength. Ok, let’s “go there.” A few weeks back, a reader of my website emailed me asking for advice. She had recently suffered a miscarriage and felt paralyzed by sadness and guilt. Her husband was quiet while he was navigating his own pain. She felt as though she was existing and not living. Her marriage was not in trouble, but now lacked what she had loved about her union with her spouse – that she could talk to her husband about nearly anything knowing that her best friend would be honest with her while helping to find solutions. Instead, both were mute. Their household was quiet. No real conversations. No sharing of feelings. Essentially, they were stuck. When I initially read her email my physical response was a deep feeling of sadness. I had felt this type of pain myself. Five times. With her permission, I am sharing my response: Hello Claire and thank you for your email. I know, firsthand the enormous level of courage it took to reach out to me. Loss of any kind is not easy, however, the death of a child – unborn or otherwise – is the most intense type of pain a living being can experience. Before you read any further, please know that there will be brighter days ahead for you and your husband. Disappointment and subsequent emotional pain take time to process. The progression of heartache and pain to acceptance and healing could take days, weeks, months, or even years. However, the sharing of one’s pain and anger with people you trust expedites the process. Trust me when I write this. I, too, have dealt with the unexpected end of a pregnancy. Initially, I blamed myself. I worked too much. I didn’t slow down. I drank an occasional cup of coffee. It must have been something I had done to cause this type of loss. Furthermore, my husband was silent. I interpreted his silence as quiet blame towards me. We really didn’t speak much of what happened. In fact, we avoided the subject almost altogether. Days turned into weeks and our marriage never really dealt with our heartache. It was almost as though our pregnancy had never happened. But it did. Even though we didn’t speak about it at the time, individually we were processing our feelings. Then I said something during dinner one evening. “I’m scared to try again.” It was that moment that we started to talk about what had happened. Through our conversation, I realized Gene did not blame me for the outcome. He sincerely was trying to be sensitive to my feelings not knowing what to say himself. We talked. We reassured each other. We grew stronger as a couple. Our healing truly started with a single sentence. A few months later we were pregnant again. We didn’t allow ourselves to become excited. In fact, Gene and I decided not to share our good news with anyone, including family, until we were assured the embryo was viable. Five weeks later, my second pregnancy ended. Again, no reasons or answers. Three more pregnancies. Three more losses. I was broken. I felt as though having a baby was a distant, if not impossible reality. I felt as if I was a failure. The doctors I consulted did not have any answers either. Emotionally I was broken. My husband tried to reassure me, but even the love of my life could not take my personal pain away. I felt as though I was existing in a dark storm cloud. Sad. Feeling uncertain. Defeated. I was on the verge of giving up. I confided in a close friend who said all the usual things meant to give clarity to my situation: “A miscarriage is a method God uses when one of his creations is not quite perfect,” “Keep trying, it will happen,” Or my personal favorite: “Just shake your disappointment off.” I tried to conjure up a smile of sorts when hearing these absurd statements, but inside I was broken and hurting. I know my friend had good intentions, but I found myself irritated by these feckless words. One evening my husband suggested taking an evening walk. This was his cue to me that he wanted to talk. Walking hand-in-hand he confronted my feelings. And his too. He thought I was depressed and needed help to “get unstuck.” He suggested scheduling a meeting with a counselor specializing in personal loss. With hesitation, I agreed. Every Friday, for the next three months, I had an appointment with a grief counselor. I was guarded. I was scared. However, the specialist knew how to talk to me while addressing my heartache and frustration. Most importantly, she gave me permission to be angry. True healing had begun. The sun was slowly coming out again. The darkness was beginning to disappear. Almost a year later I was pregnant again. Nearly thirty weeks later I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. Two years after that our daughter was born. Claire, my personal journey was long, difficult, and full of heartache. I cannot guarantee that my outcome will be yours. However, by being open and honest with your husband, misconceptions will be replaced with reassurance and hope. As important, please consider making an appointment with a counselor specializing in grief. Under the guidance of a professional, you will have a safe place to vent and release your anger while bringing into focus a future that will be fulfilling even if it’s not the way you initially imagined it. Furthermore, do not assign blame. Please understand that even with the best of intentions bad things happen. Free yourself. Trust your husband with your thoughts and feelings. Look forward. Heal. Feel free to write again. Blessings, Ellen Typically, I try to find a shred of optimism in even the direst of situations. At the time of my pregnancies and miscarriages, I could not imagine finding a speck of positivity from my personal losses. However, today as I reflect on that period of my life, I realize how strong I was and how much stronger I am today. Furthermore, I am in a position to understand and empathize with others with similar stories; I am a voice of compassion and understanding. Although this realization is a mere sliver of hopefulness, it is an important one. For myself. For others. Today, I write about pregnancy and loss as a result of a series of miscarriages. However, there are countless other types of loss that bring about anger, frustration, and fear. These might include the death of a loved one, job loss, divorce, or illness. Whatever the situation, embrace what you are feeling and share with someone you trust. Strongly consider seeking professional support. Getting “unstuck” does not come easily. Nevertheless, I implore you to find a sliver of inner strength to reach-out, find, and initiate receiving help. The first step of healing is generally the most difficult. Accept that emotional recovery is never easy, but well worth the process.

Writing a Love Letter. You know you don’t get up every morning and decide to write a love letter. Sometimes you get busy at work or in your own life with house and children and activities and elections. But there are times when the focus of your attention comes to your life partner, your lover, your soul mate. It could be a longing for more closeness. It could be that there is an event where it focuses attention away from those other things and brings you to your wife or husband. Sometimes it is a crisis a friend is having where there was a final breakup with their mate and you think about all the things that you value in your relationship with your own mate and you see how important it is to have that person in your life. But even with all those motivations, sometimes it is hard to put pencil to paper. You think about all those things that are important about the one you love and it is a mish-mash of feelings. And writing down those things can sometimes not make sense. So when I am looking for that inspiration, I can look up words to songs or poems that I have run across in many forms. And then the feelings come true and they can be put into words. It could be just a single line in that prose or it could be the entire song shows how you truly feel about your wife. And then you build off of that. Yes, the song is the inspiration, but their words are not yours. In fact, you can edit your own words in the letter that shows your true feelings towards your wife. So I saw a comment on Twitter from the Associate Dean at Ithaca College’s Park School of Communications, Bryan Roberts said: “I spent the morning reflecting upon the amazing women in my life. I am a lucky man.” So I built off of that and my feelings came out: I reflect upon my 25th anniversary with my wife, Ellen, it’s been a wild ride – 2 wonderful grown children, 4 cats, and a dog, illness, loss, joy, travel, moving, job changes….I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. That’s my real feelings as I reflect upon my life with Ellen. But you want to see my love letter. See it next. I gave it to her on our 25th wedding anniversary. Dear Ellen, I think about the last 25 years with you as my wife, I had to sit down and grab my pen and paper and write it all out. Tried to summon all that my heart finds true and send it in a letter to you. I said many times that before we were married, I did not have a direction. I had left home, gone to college, and got a job, but it seemed like I was floating in the sea going with the tide pushing me around to different places. I lived in Illinois and then Michigan and I had hobbies and never lacked things to do. But there was no direction that I was going. Until I met you. So when I met you, I went towards you. It is not like I changed, I was the same person, just went in my true direction. I have had a great ride. I found that I needed to be a good husband. I needed to be a good father as we had two children. We found a house and community to live. We found a church to help us discover our true purpose. And through all the hard times and good times, we were going towards where we wanted OUR life to go. And I signed up for all of it. Over the years, I told you of all my fears and doubts. All the things I found out about me. All the things I discovered to be true. I confided this to you. And you loved me for who I was and you supported me through all the years. The sunshine and rain of life. The pain and happiness. You were there with me and for me. And each morning I woke up with you, the sky was always blue. Which brings me to today. I found that I had another direction and you were on board with that too. We changed everything in 2020 and I see a new path that we are on. We are not there yet, but you know life is never about the destination, but it is about the journey to get there. I always wanted this journey to include you with me. So as I reflect on 25 years of marriage to my one true love, I treasure the journey we are on and the direction we are going and I want to get there together and I will give you all that I have, mind, body, and soul. And write it down today as my promise to you. I Love You Your forever true love Gene