I was going to wait until it had been 6 months but "5 months or 150 days" just goes so well together.
I'M COLA FREE!!!
That's right. Not a drop since February 14th, Valentine's day. I don't know if I will ever drink it again. It is truly an addiction with me. I could go a week or even up to 5 weeks without it, take one drink of it and I was back at it. Sometimes 4 cans in a day. I was becoming a "closet Pepsi drinker" trying to keep Brad from knowing how much I was drinking. Like he was stupid and didn't notice the 12 pack he'd gotten with the groceries was empty already.
When I was a child I remember soda was a special treat. I always had milk with my meal. Mama would get groceries and buy a 6 pack of soda for us kids. Pammy correct me if I'm wrong. We got to pick what flavor soda we wanted and we each got 2 bottles for the week. I remember loving grape soda, but I don't remember ever drinking it at meal time.
Then I became a teenager and it seems like pepsi became part of the meal. We didn't always have it in the house, but if it was we drank it. Usually 2 liter bottles of it. Occasionally we'd have Coke because someone was visiting who preferred it. I wasn't too picky, but Pepsi was my cola of choice for a long time. Evenings with popcorn, birthdays, holidays, playing a game .. any excuse to have pepsi with the ice clinking against the edges of the glass.
I got married and our grocery list always had Pepsi on it. We had it with our meal every night. Brad swears that's why he gained 10 pounds that first year. (he's probably right) I don't remember when I became so addicted to it, but part of my addiction was the cold can in my hand and the sound when you "popped the top". Ahhhhhhhhh. I preferred my Coke in a bottle, but an ice cold can of Pepsi in my hand was bliss.
I was convinced if I was stressing about something, Pepsi calmed my nerves and helped me cope. Brad would run to Mic Mac to get me "just one to get me through". I would often run through McDee's just to have an ice cold Coke. The cup filled with ice and the cola poured over it was like balm to me. Of course, cola always tasted better if I had something sugary to eat with it, or if I ate something sugary it would make me want cola to go with it. Or anything salty, or Chinese food, or a Roast Dinner on Sunday, or ... ok, I drank it with anything and everything or nothing. Addicted. To cola. Pepsi is worse than Coke. I weaned myself from Pepsi by switching entirely to Coke and then finally just stopped the Coke.
One day at a time .. I don't know what made me flip the switch, but I'm so glad I did. I really think I feel happier and just knowing I'm not putting that stuff into my system is reward enough for me. I love water with fresh lemon squeezed into it and lots of ice. I drink too much coffee now, and I'm working on that! I am VERY thankful my addiction didn't spill over onto my kids. There's an awareness now that we didn't have when I was growing up. It just tasted good and we knew it was fattening, but what's a few pounds? (more like 50)
Next step is exercise ... I've done it, I've proved it makes me happier, makes me feel better physically and mentally so why am I not doing it? Same reason I kept drinking Cola even though I knew the stuff is nasty and terrible for you. I haven't flipped the switch yet. I have to flip it sooner than later. I'm going on 54 and I want to feel young again. Exercise will do that for me. I know it will.
So color me Cola Free! No it's not a cigarette or alcohol addiction, but it's a very real one just the same, and I beat it. I admire and am proud of anyone who beats an addiction no matter what it is. So proud of my friends who have given up cigarettes after years of smoking. I know in a small way how hard that was to do. So GO YOU!
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
Tuesday, June 2, 2015
A flood of memories
Maybe it's the 3rd day of rain that is making my heart just a little sad this morning, or the creak of the floor overhead as my Dad gets his few belongings together to head back to Clinton today, the image of him, just a little stooped over, gathering up what still belongs to him. Making sure the photos I printed and framed for him are going with him "I'll bring them back when I come"; "they are yours, Daddy".
85 years old, he grows weary and weak. He's not the strong able man I knew growing up. How proud I was of him, and still am. Mr. Sanders, the floor sander and builder of beautiful homes. "My Dad built that house". He would drive his Wheel Horse with the snow blower attachment and a cab with doors on it down to the frozen bog and clear it so we could skate for hours on end. The neighbor kids loved my Dad too and called him "Uncle Don". Years later, they still do.
I hear him come down the stairs with a little "phew" when he reaches the bottom. Carrying his bible bag and shaving kit and the sheets off his bed he walks into kitchen with a little grin on his face. "Throw the sheets down the stairs" I say. He throws them down then he stops and asks, "what is that hymn, Cleanse me oh lamb of God, I can't find those words to look it up .. that's a good one" and he sings a verse of it to me. Of course I know it, but can't find it so I send Brad a text and he responds with "WASH" (not cleanse) #8, no #17. #8 was the old book. Yes that's it, and I get my hymn book and sing a couple verses. This happens nearly every morning.
He pours Total into the bowl I have ready for him, crunching it down "so the pieces aren't so big". I asked him once if he needed a bigger bowl so they'd fit and he said no, he just liked them crunched down. A bite of banana in between bites of Total, sometimes he'll tell me how he's eaten this for years and then tells me he has Burger King for lunch "A Junior Whopper with Cheese and a Sprite, it costs me $2.98, then I have a peanut butter and fluff sandwich at night"
Now, as he sits there munching, he tells me again about his cousin, Teddy, and Aunt Rita, known as "Aunt Tootie" by us kids because that's what Mammie called her. She called Mammie (Francis) "Kittie". Brad almost fell off his chair the first time he heard me say her name. Well, maybe it was the way in which I said it "Aunt TOOTIE DIED?!" She laughed a lot, like Mammie did, especially when they were together. I'm thankful my Dad got those genes and had Mammie for a mother, the lady I was named after. Francis Kelley. As Mama would tell it, she was going to name me Francis and Mammie said "don't you dare, if you have to name her after me use my maiden name" (another thing I'm thankful for!) I don't know .. would I have turned out differently if everyone called me Francis?
He's all packed and ready to go but has an hour to kill. He wants to leave his sprite and his oatmeal cream pies with us, but I assure him we don't drink Sprite and if he leaves the cookies I will eat them all in two days. He heads into the living room for the "big chair" and I will close now so I can play a few tunes for him on the piano.
It helps, you know, my heart isn't near as heavy. I will have to do this more often. Yes, Dad is thankful for his good memories and so am I.
85 years old, he grows weary and weak. He's not the strong able man I knew growing up. How proud I was of him, and still am. Mr. Sanders, the floor sander and builder of beautiful homes. "My Dad built that house". He would drive his Wheel Horse with the snow blower attachment and a cab with doors on it down to the frozen bog and clear it so we could skate for hours on end. The neighbor kids loved my Dad too and called him "Uncle Don". Years later, they still do.
I hear him come down the stairs with a little "phew" when he reaches the bottom. Carrying his bible bag and shaving kit and the sheets off his bed he walks into kitchen with a little grin on his face. "Throw the sheets down the stairs" I say. He throws them down then he stops and asks, "what is that hymn, Cleanse me oh lamb of God, I can't find those words to look it up .. that's a good one" and he sings a verse of it to me. Of course I know it, but can't find it so I send Brad a text and he responds with "WASH" (not cleanse) #8, no #17. #8 was the old book. Yes that's it, and I get my hymn book and sing a couple verses. This happens nearly every morning.
He pours Total into the bowl I have ready for him, crunching it down "so the pieces aren't so big". I asked him once if he needed a bigger bowl so they'd fit and he said no, he just liked them crunched down. A bite of banana in between bites of Total, sometimes he'll tell me how he's eaten this for years and then tells me he has Burger King for lunch "A Junior Whopper with Cheese and a Sprite, it costs me $2.98, then I have a peanut butter and fluff sandwich at night"
Now, as he sits there munching, he tells me again about his cousin, Teddy, and Aunt Rita, known as "Aunt Tootie" by us kids because that's what Mammie called her. She called Mammie (Francis) "Kittie". Brad almost fell off his chair the first time he heard me say her name. Well, maybe it was the way in which I said it "Aunt TOOTIE DIED?!" She laughed a lot, like Mammie did, especially when they were together. I'm thankful my Dad got those genes and had Mammie for a mother, the lady I was named after. Francis Kelley. As Mama would tell it, she was going to name me Francis and Mammie said "don't you dare, if you have to name her after me use my maiden name" (another thing I'm thankful for!) I don't know .. would I have turned out differently if everyone called me Francis?
He's all packed and ready to go but has an hour to kill. He wants to leave his sprite and his oatmeal cream pies with us, but I assure him we don't drink Sprite and if he leaves the cookies I will eat them all in two days. He heads into the living room for the "big chair" and I will close now so I can play a few tunes for him on the piano.
It helps, you know, my heart isn't near as heavy. I will have to do this more often. Yes, Dad is thankful for his good memories and so am I.
Friday, May 29, 2015
Spring morning in Maine
My almost favorite time of year is here. The scent of apple blossoms drifts through the open window and the birds are singing, chirping, twittering and whistling back and forth from the trees around our home. A car drives by and the sound carries for a few seconds and from where I sit, I can see out the back patio doors to green. White birch, green leaves and green grass. We won't talk about the dead dandelions that defiantly stand tall challenging any lawn mower or weed digger to best them. They'll soon be gone. A breeze blows across my face and the sun rests gently on the leaves of the plant I don't have a name for. Given to us by friends when my father in law passed away, it has tripled in size. I turn my chair to face the window. I can feel the heat as the rays hit my shins and bare toes and nestle there, no where else to go.
A neighbor walks by with her black dog. They could be Nellie and I. The puppy pulling at the leash heading for the ditch, sniffing out all the scents that entice him/her, the "master" tugging, "c'mon". I remember how worn out I would be after a 2 to 3 mile walk with Nellie just trying to keep her on the straight and narrow. We'd start out, her pulling on the leash "let's go let's go let's go!" Ok, so LET'S go. Soon her nose was to the ground and there was no rushing her now. I use to think I'd leave her home next time so I could get my walk in at a faster pace. But then I could never leave her behind, her black nose pressed against the window, her brown eyes looking sorrowfully at me. I miss her, I miss THAT, and suddenly I want a warm furry body pressed against my legs or curled up in my lap assuring me that I am the most important person in it's world.
The flag lifts slightly in the breeze then falls lazily back down, curled around itself and the pole. How proud I am to be an American, how sad I am to see what is happening in this great country. But for right now I will enjoy the perfection of a warm and sunny spring morning in Maine
A neighbor walks by with her black dog. They could be Nellie and I. The puppy pulling at the leash heading for the ditch, sniffing out all the scents that entice him/her, the "master" tugging, "c'mon". I remember how worn out I would be after a 2 to 3 mile walk with Nellie just trying to keep her on the straight and narrow. We'd start out, her pulling on the leash "let's go let's go let's go!" Ok, so LET'S go. Soon her nose was to the ground and there was no rushing her now. I use to think I'd leave her home next time so I could get my walk in at a faster pace. But then I could never leave her behind, her black nose pressed against the window, her brown eyes looking sorrowfully at me. I miss her, I miss THAT, and suddenly I want a warm furry body pressed against my legs or curled up in my lap assuring me that I am the most important person in it's world.
The flag lifts slightly in the breeze then falls lazily back down, curled around itself and the pole. How proud I am to be an American, how sad I am to see what is happening in this great country. But for right now I will enjoy the perfection of a warm and sunny spring morning in Maine
Wednesday, May 13, 2015
Tavia and Hospital Stays
Got the okay to share with all of you who love my niece, Tavia. She spent Monday afternoon 'til late this morning at the hospital in Augusta.Maine General Medical Center I must say if you have to be IN a hospital that is one very nice one. She has been discharged but still waiting on results. In the meantime she'll be set up with a Rheumatologist and a new PCP to get to the bottom of this once and for all. Those of you who know her best, picture her sitting there on the hospital bed with 3 docs and 6 residents around her. One young nice looking doc which made it a bit more bearable I'm sure. They find her case quite interesting. Monday, when asked how she would describe herself she said "easy going" The staff had to agree as she never pushed the nurses button unless her IV was beeping incessantly (and only because Pammy and I begged her to) Sitting there 'til 11:00 Monday evening and then through the day yesterday we couldn't help but think of those of you who have sat day after day in a hospital room or the waiting room down the hall .. eating hospital food and hoping the doc will be back soon with a report, a good one. We've gone through days like that with others we've loved and know just how wearying it can be. Thankful Tavia is back home now and hoping her new doctors will figure this all out.
Friday, March 6, 2015
My Talented Niece
Tavia Betts, is one talented little lady. She has been busy sewing and knitting up a storm of American Girl clothes for her little cousin, Isabelle Marie.
Here's a look at some of her great designs for Izze's new Isabelle doll .. she has also made a clothes mannequin for "Isabelle" because one of the doll's hobbies is sewing. Her stitching is impeccable. Doll, Isabelle, is also a ballerina, so of course she needed a tutu and tank. Unfortunately for anyone who would love to buy Tavia's designs, they aren't for sale. Sewing is something she does for her own enjoyment and there are a few little girls in Tavia's life who are very lucky indeed
Here's a look at some of her great designs for Izze's new Isabelle doll .. she has also made a clothes mannequin for "Isabelle" because one of the doll's hobbies is sewing. Her stitching is impeccable. Doll, Isabelle, is also a ballerina, so of course she needed a tutu and tank. Unfortunately for anyone who would love to buy Tavia's designs, they aren't for sale. Sewing is something she does for her own enjoyment and there are a few little girls in Tavia's life who are very lucky indeed
Yes, proud I am, and always excited to see what she has created next!
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
Hush
The house has been quiet for long enough now .. my mornings are routine, my day stretches out and evening finally arrives along with the one who keeps me smiling. It's too quiet which makes me think too much, mulling over, rehashing, regretting ... and then it occurs to me what a waste this is because it is too late now for a do over. I can only move forward with a purpose in my heart to be better, gentler, kinder, more forgiving, more tolerant, more loving .. more gracious. And always always remember that I am so far from perfect I have no right to pass judgement on any other human.
My heart holds a lot of love. Some days that love overflows, splashing out on creatures big and small, on people around me who step back a little annoyed and try to brush it off or wring it out. Ew, what IS that you just touched me with? Embarrassed, now it is I who steps back, blushing a little and feeling silly that I'd thought they wanted some of that overflow. Keep it to yourself, hold it in, don't let them know! I try to pretend it didn't happen and chasten myself silently. "there you go again!"
Some people are not huggers, I have found out in what can be kindly called "awkward moments" So, now that I know that, I'm fine without the hugs, so don't pretend you want a hug from me when a firm friendly handshake does just as well, if not better than that odd stiff armed hug you give me holding yourself away from me. I can't accuse them of being "cold", they just don't want other people touching them. It doesn't mean they don't "love" me ... I'm too much like a puppy or even a dog that sits at your feet, tongue hanging out with a silly grin on her face just waiting for approval and yes, love.
Just pat my head, smile at me and say "good girl" and I'll try not to trip you by laying at your feet.
My heart holds a lot of love. Some days that love overflows, splashing out on creatures big and small, on people around me who step back a little annoyed and try to brush it off or wring it out. Ew, what IS that you just touched me with? Embarrassed, now it is I who steps back, blushing a little and feeling silly that I'd thought they wanted some of that overflow. Keep it to yourself, hold it in, don't let them know! I try to pretend it didn't happen and chasten myself silently. "there you go again!"
Some people are not huggers, I have found out in what can be kindly called "awkward moments" So, now that I know that, I'm fine without the hugs, so don't pretend you want a hug from me when a firm friendly handshake does just as well, if not better than that odd stiff armed hug you give me holding yourself away from me. I can't accuse them of being "cold", they just don't want other people touching them. It doesn't mean they don't "love" me ... I'm too much like a puppy or even a dog that sits at your feet, tongue hanging out with a silly grin on her face just waiting for approval and yes, love.
Just pat my head, smile at me and say "good girl" and I'll try not to trip you by laying at your feet.
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
How do I explain
How do I explain the nervous excitement of anticipation .. wondering "is this going to be good? Is it going to be awkward? Will just being who we are be enough?" Meeting Thy's parents for the very first time as George's car pulls into our drive, the snow coming down, the lights from our doorway casting a glow into the dark and shadows on the now white lawn, my stomach clenches just a little and my heart pounds a bit harder as I open the front door. I wave, smiling big, because I really AM looking forward to this new development in our already topsy turvy, upside down, unorganized but very happy life and I want them to know how welcome they are. We love Thy, surely we will love her parents.
They climb out of the car, exhausted after driving up route 1 in a snow storm, in the back of an old Volvo with two dogs occasionally breathing down their necks, bags of clothing, food and four bottles of wine packed around them. Thy with a gorgeous arrangement of flowers, greenery and persimmons in her hands. They are smiling and we meet, look into each others eyes and hug.
Thuy, called Becky by her American friends, is tiny. I have to lean way down to hug her and I'm sure she was on tip toes and she smells wonderful. Cuong has a huge grin and a big hug for me and I have to lean a little bit down for him too, but the hug is strong and real.
How do I explain the immediate camaraderie shared and felt by all four of us. Two cultures melding swiftly, all differences disappear with each new thing we learn about each other. Becky and I are women, mothers, home makers, so much in common, but she has suffered things I can't even imagine. Things that have made her the strong amazing woman that she is. I listen in awe and then she laughs and her face is transformed and I instantly fall in love with her. The men are soon sharing their views and thoughts on deeper things, getting philosophical then laughing heartily over something one of them experienced in their past. Two men so different, yet so alike. Good hearts are joined.
George says there was a moment when he knew: "Mom's okay" and it wasn't long in coming. Both he and Thy had a bit of apprehension wondering how bringing their parents together for the holiday would go. They knew they'd be there to help "break the ice" but soon found out no breaking was needed, there was no ice.
We ate. Seafood chowder prepared by Brad with crusty bread and later apple pie by the fireplace. We talked. We went to bed that first night marveling over a phenomenon we never expected. Our hearts are lifted and we look forward to the following days with these two strangers who have become our good friends in just a matter of hours.
The holiday comes and goes in a blur of helping hands, happy faces, shared confidences, quiet moments, cozy fires and lots of laughter and the growing conviction that this is so good. No clocks, no schedule (turkey took way longer than expected) simply fitting in, relaxing, enjoying .. don't remember who made the coffee that time, but the pot was almost always full, as well as our bellies. Pastries, fruit, nuts, scones, pie .. there was cheese and a baguette and crackers that never got sampled.
A day of exploring, icy air, slippery sidewalks, hot coffee, cashmere gloves and blankets to "ooh" over, quick snapshots, no bags to carry, then home for more coffee, nibbles of this and that. Evening out, dinner their treat, taking our time, more talking, sharing, laughing, and home again to enjoy the fire, dogs in our laps, a puzzle and sleepy eyelids.
How do I explain this feeling that we are family already and having just met Becky, I don't want her to leave and she with tears in her eyes doesn't want to say good bye. So we don't. Instead it's "see you soon" as we begin to plan our next visit together. GA is beautiful in May they say, and there will most definitely be more trips north for them.
All because a boy went west and a girl went east and they met in Salt Lake City. How do I explain this feeling of having wider eyes and a larger heart and so much thankfulness running over and out. This melding of Doans and Graves is surely a very good thing, and yes, just being who we are is enough.
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