THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS

Everyone has some comment about the seven deadly sins. I recently brought it up and was told that one man had tried both fornication and adultery and couldn’t tell the difference. I have news for that man. Neither of those behaviors are on the list of seven deadly sins. The list goes like this: Pride, Envy, Wrath, Gluttony, Sloth, Lust, and Greed. Just a quick glance at the list tells me I am guilty of all seven. Allow me to elaborate on my status in each sin.  Continue reading

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WHAT KEEPS ME GOING?

”What keeps me going?” you might ask. You didn’t ask, but I will answer the question anyway. Remarkable young people in my life keep me going, especially the ones who are devoted and attentive to me. On days when I feel less excited and less hopeful about my life, a call, e-mail, or promise of a visit from one of these youngsters will turn my mood from dismal to bright. I am frankly flattered to think they enjoy my company.  Continue reading

SELF ACTUALIZATION THROUGH WRITING

Psychology students will remember Abraham Maslow’s theory of self-actualization. Maslow believed human physiological needs such as oxygen, food, and water must be met first, before the need for safety and security. Next comes the need for love and belonging to community. Then self-esteem or pride in achievements can be addressed. Once these four lower levels are achieved, a person can move on to the top of Maslow’s pyramid of human needs. Uppermost is self-actualization or becoming one’s best self by developing one’s full potential.  Continue reading

MAC’S HANGAR AT LITTLE RIVER AIRPORT

In the mid 1980’s, my husband, Mac, and I were deciding to live apart. Our three children had all finished high school and were away from home. We had sold our home of eighteen years on Siesta Key in Sarasota, FL, and were living temporarily in a rented house in Fernandina Beach while caring for Mac’s parents who were both in their nineties. Our oldest son, Eric, had left the USAF and was in Philadelphia working in financial management with a Baby Bell which later became Verizon. Second son, Casey, had left the U.S. Navy and was somewhere at sea as first mate on a commercial ship. Clea, our youngest, was in her sophomore year at the University of Florida in Gainesville.  Continue reading

MINDFUL MOMENTS OF THE MORNING

I wake from a stressful dream, then gradually realize I am safe at home in my own bed. I straighten my legs under the covers, knowing it will hurt my knees. There is an urgent need to empty my bladder, even though I was up five times in the night for that purpose. I roll onto my right side, as previously instructed by a physical therapist, and placing the palm of my left hand on the bed, push myself to a seated position, dropping my feet to the floor. I sit there, rubbing my knees to alert them they are expected to do some work now. My left wrist hurts from pushing myself up. Arthritis seems to have reached every corner in my body.  Continue reading

RESOLUTIONS FOR MY NINTIETH YEAR

January is the time for New Year’s resolutions. For 2019, my 90th year, I resolve to be easy on myself and not expect too much. My dues were paid in previous years, by being a military wife, teacher, mother, grandmother and volunteer. This year I will be aware of my physical limitations, and only do what makes me happy. Things that make me happy are usually socially acceptable and not a menace to society. Continue reading

MENISCUS AND FRAYED

Today, I have two words of the day, meniscus and frayed. One of my several ailments is a frayed meniscus, which is quite painful, but the two words, frayed and meniscus, fascinate me.  Meniscus is a cartilage-like cushion somewhere in the complex structure of the knee. A few weeks ago, when my knee gave way, I fell and made a bloody mess on my kitchen floor. My wounds are healing, and a charming physical therapist from Nigeria comes twice a week to my home and massages the torn meniscus of my right knee.   Continue reading

JULY 1ST, 2ND, AND 3RD, 2018

This is our Fourth of July week, but I would like to tell you about events of July 1st, July 2nd, and July 3rd. On Sunday, July 1, at about 2:00 p.m. after talking with my daughter, Clea, on the phone for 45 minutes, I lost use of my right hand, which had been holding the phone. I could not grip my toothbrush to brush my teeth. I could not open a cosmetic compact for adding makeup to my face. I could not grip my glasses to pick them up and put them on my face. The hand was totally useless.   Continue reading