My year started with my mother in the hospital in Florida, in intensive care. I was miles away at home in Maryland. It was a scary time.

My older brother and his wife live 3 hours away. They weren’t reading the text and WhatsApp group messages my younger sister and I were sending. A couple of days into this, his wife calls all frantic (and a little angry) that they didn’t know. Didn’t know? Looking back, this was the first sign of what was to come.

They drive from their home in Georgia and help support our mom. We were all grateful. His wife would call me and give me updates. She sounded grim. My brother has never called me. He doesn’t share anything. Not even the good stuff. He has a closed up emotional persona when it comes to his family of origin. I understand from his wife that he is a loving father and husband. I’m glad, for them. But somehow, his mother and brother and sisters are just supposed to “know” his feelings. Give him some kind of “credit” for the Christmas cards and boxes of frozen steaks that arrive every December. I’ve held it in for a long time. That was about to end, I just didn’t feel the boil that had started.

By Tuesday, January 4th, his wife told me…I’d better come. Mom might not survive this. Of course she made it my decision. Subtly, she was winding me up, poking my fear, igniting that need of a child to be with their mother at the moment they leave us. What else could I do? I booked a plane ticket and flew out the next day, Wednesday. My heart was a knot of choked tears that I held inside during my flight. I was emotionally raw….flying to my dying mother. That’s what I was lead to believe.

I arrived in Orlando where my brother and his wife picked me up, it was late in the evening. They were staying in Peter and my home in the Villages. We had freely opened our home to them, to give them respite from the rushing around. An obligation I knew very well, after all I had been running around – physically, financially and emotionally supporting my mother and my younger sister most of my adult life.

It was too late to visit mom, so we went to bed and first thing the next day we were up and over to the hospital. Jan 6th – my birthday, and I am heading to the hospital to see my dying mother. When we arrive, only two people can go up, so his wife and I go up. Mom was weak, thin, on oxygen, fighting pneumonia. This entire day was full of tiny baby steps I did not notice as they happened. My sister-in-law introducing me to the nurses. Getting a notary to come to sign a POA for me on behalf of my mom. Change my brother’s name to mine as hospital contact. Stood in front of me and introduced me as the decision maker for the Home Health people, for when mom needed to move to rehabilitation. I didn’t see it. I was in a blur. My mom isn’t dying? I was just so relieved at that fact thet I just leaned in. Thats what I do. I take it all on my shoulders.

That. Is. Exactly. What. They. KNEW. I . Would. Do.

That night, my brother takes us to dinner, my birthday celebration. I felt grateful the day didn’t end unnoticed, but I was still just settling myself to gratitude that my mom might not be dying. Soon – it all became crystal clear. When we got back to Peter and my house in FL – she told me – they were leaving the next day. Going back home to Georgia. She had a doctor’s appointment and my brother was building a shed. A shed? What did she just say? Something about needing to be home for a shed? But…our mother was dying. Or….

I didn’t say anything. I was so overwhelmed. I felt the comfort of their support fading away, and the overwhelming burden of my mother’s future being leveled upon my shoulders. I don’t live here? I’m supposed to work remotely while I am down here. How am I going to do all of this.

The next week was a cluster of crazy. Racing to care for my mom, racing to visit rehabilitation centers, racing to my sister who would fall and needed help with her Parkinson’s. I had to take time off from work. After a week of this, I snapped.

I wrote an email to them, I was not polite. I was rude as hell. I told them I felt manipulated by them. And that they should get their asses to Florida and take care of our mom. His wife told me that thought I should take care of mom because she raised my kids. WHAT? Mom raised my kids? Wow, over time I realized that when you live a life disconnected from your family, they just make up the reality they want to see. Years ago, my mom left her part time job at Dunkin Donuts and watched my kids from Monday to Wednesday, and I paid her more than her job. I worked from home on Thursday and Friday, so she went home Wednesday night and would come back Sunday night. She raised my kids? More like I supported our mom.

Fast forward to the end of this tragic novel……..of course I am the villian. (Bet you saw that coming). My sister in law tells me how my brother has been a saint to care for my mother her whole life. I dont mean to mention his wife so much, but here is the thing….she has been his voice and spokesperson for decades BECAUSE he does not have any connection with his siblings. Any connection I had with him was through her. By their design, not mine. I can’t speak to what he feels. I have no idea what he thinks, feels, does, or doesn’t do. I can only speak to his absence in our lives. I would have liked to have had a big brother who was like the man his wife describes. Unfortunately, this man was only reserved for his wife and kids. I’ve never met that man.

So my brother is now my mom’s POA. It makes sense, he is retred and lives 3 hours away. It is good for him and for mom to be hand’s- on involved. He will be able to see what is really going on now, rather than just calling or FaceTime and doing his weekly check in, so his conscience is clear.

I get a text, don’t contact him anymore.

I had to laugh out loud. What was this supposed to be? A punishment of sorts? A lesson that Diane needs to stay in her place. Keep quiet little sister, I decide things and you follow instructions. Hey dude, this isn’t the Navy, people expect you to talk to them, listen to them, and formulate a compromise, a plan to care for our mother. To do it together. Signs seem to indicate that is NOT how things operate at his house. Allegedly 😉

The truth at the end of all of this is…. I don’t miss my brother. Well, maybe I don’t miss him any more than I have missed him all my life. He has been an absent person most of my life. I have memories from being kids and some of those are not good at all. Maybe I’ll miss the box of frozen steaks at Christmas, but I doubt it.

The only painful part is – now when my mom goes back into the hospital, it can be days before I find out. He doesn’t send me updates. No texts. No Whats App messages. The Irony. The last text from his wife was something like… they communicate with the rest of the family like they always have. Bad Diane. You’ve been banished. Sorry, that doesn’t hurt very much. You folks are not who you pretend to be. No loss, sorry.

I reach out to my mom. She answers sometimes. She doesn’t other times. My sister lives within her abilities. That future is as unknown as our own. I found my peace with my mom and her and we had our final words of reconciliation.

I’m settled. I’m at peace. And I have put the burden down. My brother? He can carry his own and he has a lot to answer for at the end of his life.

Ciao for now…Diane

My mother’s heart issues go back years. First the pace maker, then the unstable blood pressure. The last two years, the reality came. Congestive heart failure. The rushing ambulances to the ERs, the prolonged ICU stays, the rehabilitation. It has just made her weaker and weaker.

I’ve spent many hours while watching her sleep in the hospital overwhelmed by anxiety. Coming to terms with the one fact that I have avoided as long as possible. Diane, you cannot save her from this journey. It’s one we will all have to walk for ourselves.

As I grew from a girl to a woman, somewhere without notice, the roles reversed and I became the care taker of my mother, instead of the other way around. She has lived close to me and recently, far away in FL, but I’ve tried my best to provide for her. She made sure we kids grew up with everything we wanted….now it was our turn to ensure she wanted for nothing. That’s how I saw it anyway, even though that plan went awry. A story for another day.

My mother lives with my younger sister. They are loving companions, they’ve sewn their lives together, like sisters almost. In the end, I’m glad they have each other, although it has been complicated, challenging, painful sometimes.

I’ve had periods of my life when I’ve not spoken to my mom. The longest period was an entire year….probably 6 years ago. I broke the ice and called her when I was going in for surgery. As stubborn as I can be (trust and believe!), my mother is the most stubborn person I’ve ever known. She will suffer pain in her heart so deep…just to avoid saying, I’m sorry, I was wrong. She’s a beautiful woman, in every aspect, but she can’t bring herself to that humble place. My mom has endured a lot of hardship in her life. She has that Irish dna that affords her super human strength to pull herself up from her boot straps and move forward. Warmth and love….well, its sprinkled in there….but you have to look hard for it. Love is expected. She expects you to know she feels it. My troubles have come when I’ve asked her to show it to me. Here is where our antlers have locked and well….thats the water. Now here comes the bridge….

January 2022 began with mom in the ICU. Her first rehab was at home in FL because we couldn’t find a rehabilitation hospital to take her. She went back into the hospital in May, this time was much worse. She was severely anemic and had lost her conscious awareness. She did not know where she was or what was happening to her. They had to tie her hands to the bed, to keep her from ripping out her IVs, her oxygen and attempting to leave. By the time I got from Maryland to Florida, she was a tiny little woman in this big hospital bed.

She was so glad to see me. She had the wide eyes of a child. I sat at her bedside and talked with her, softly. Taking time to explain to her why she was there, and what was happening to her. And to say….I know this is scary. I’d be scared too. But it’s OK, it’s behind you now. Now let’s look forward. We talked about what we’d need to do and that she had some work to do to get strong enough to go home. Truthfully, I don’t know if I was lying then. I don’t know if mom is going home. We can hope though.

Days later she moved to rehab, and these conversations continued each night as I visited her. One night we were selecting her meals for the week and spent longer than was necessary visiting all our food favorites. Waffles with strawberries and cream for Sunday breakfast, and catfish (yes, you love catfish, mom, even though you always say you’ve never had it. LOL) for dinner. We talked about the days when I was a girl and we went camping with Dad. We laughed about crazy dinners she had made, and Christmas trees that my older sister fell into and knocked flat to the floor.

One day as she napped, I looked at my mom and realized….I had a choice to make. I was going to either “fight” with my mom till then end….OR….choose to find a way to love her by believing she loved me, even when she couldn’t say it or show it.

Leaving Florida to go home to Maryland while Mom is in rehab was difficult. Bargaining with myself, I manage by calling her every day. I pick up the phone with a story in my mind….I live the future with my mom by remembering the past. It’s easier to connect with her from those days long ago. It’s imperfect, but I’ve decided….I’ve decided to love my mother this way.

Last night, she ended our call with this….Diane, I love you, I’ve always loved you.

I know mom….and I’ll never doubt it again. I’m on the bridge with you mom. There is no way you will walk this next journey alone. I’m with you mom.

Ciao for now…..Diane

No matter. Whatever happened, it has become a choice. A choice that I am settled with and that feels like the right way to spend the remaining energy that will be my life. My circle has always been small. Small family, small circle of friends, small connections that comprised my small piece of this big world. Some people must life large. They become the “mayors” of the street, the PTA presidents, the class moms, the rumor mill, the celebrities. Those folks feed on the energy of others. Eating attention like cheese-its and collecting friends on FaceBooks like stamps. I don’t judge, I just don’t get it. It feels like an awful lot of work, so much wasted energy, for a whole lot of inauthentic stuff, in result. Words that fade, love masking jealousy, friendship in fair weather only, and attention as long as you serve a purpose…usually their purpose.

The object of my affection has always been something simpler. something quiet. something true. something genuine.

A page from my favorite book, The Velveteen Rabbit, says it best…

He said. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why
it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have
sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally,
by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your
eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these
things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except
to people who don’t understand.”

So my circle gets smaller, as fake friends or family in name only, are shown to be as inauthentic as a raggedy old bunny. No worries. No pain. No r.e.a.l. loss. What remains is beautiful and deep and dependable and trusted. What remains is genuine. And I rest my head on my pillow tonight knowing, you will be there when I wake.

Ciao for now…..Diane

The next year will be that work. My own little happiness project. LOL, that might sound like I know what I’m doing. Eh, long ago I leaned toward the belief that the best thing’s in life happen when you let gooooo…..when you don’t know what you’re doing. More than anything, what I need is to get my thoughts out of my head, and to start “doing” again. Maybe doing new things, old things, whatever things….but just doing, moving, forward momentum in my life, my feelings….and eventually I think that will move me toward my happiness.

I’m committing to a renewed habit to come here each day, and leave behind some feelings and thoughts. In the end, it doesn’t matter if anyone beyond myself ever reads them. I reminded myself how cathartic the act of writing has been for me during high and low periods of my life. I’m going to lean into it now, and if any bit of what I leave behind helps you…well, that is the gift of community. When you are low, you need the community. When you feel strong, the community needs you.

So please, come….go…take and give…to this community. Happiness….we’re coming for you.

Ciao for now, Diane

Around 2pm, my stomach starts to rumble for a snack. THIS IS GOOD!

It’s hunger. And this snackity expert (me, this girl right here) hasn’t felt that very often. Back in my “before” days when I was grazing constantly…it’s hard to ever f.e.e.l. hunger. Instead I often felt discomfort and shame. But that’s another story for another day.

So, yesterday was shopping, planning and prepping day, AKA Saturday. At the Publix down here in Florida, my husband Peter and I found a good thing. Well, it’s actually Two Good.

I walk the aisle with my WW scanner App AND my education on carbs. As a T2 diabetic person, my #1 job for myself is to eat well. Weight loss is a derivative. I OWE myself good nutrition. I’ve managed to regain control over my blood glucose levels, free of medications, and I want to keep it that way. I’ve made the progress I’ve made by making good choices. Along the way, I shed many foods that used to be staples in my diet. For instance, I rarely eat fruit these days AND its been forever since I’ve had a yogurt.

Back to today. It’s 2pm. I’m hungry. First move – make a pot of tea. See if what i am feeling can be satiated by a nice hot cup of #JOY.

No Go. Didn’t cut it. I’m actually hungry. GOOD Diane. You are actually hungry, so f.o.o.d. IS the appropriate answer.

I pulled one of these Two Good yogurts out of the fridge, opened the lid, slipped in the spoon and tasted.

Yes.

TWO GOOD will be my 3 small good things for today. But Diane, they are TWO good, how can they be 3 good things?

Well – here is how this yogurt sizes up on my 3 good things list for today.

#1 – It’s coconut. s.w.o.o.n. <3 <3 <3

#2 – It’s only 3 grams of carb and that is due in large part to the fact that it only has 2 grams of sugar in the whole thing! Very carb friendly for a yogurt.

and #3 – The entire 5.3 ounce container is only 2 Weight Watchers smart points. For COCONUT! Hey, all of you coconut lovers out there know, when you “ZAP” a coconut yogurt, you get ready for 7 points on average. I had to zap these three times in the store (um…and once more just now before I ate it)….I just couldn’t believe it. All this coconut yumminess for 2 points and I can make a good carb choice.

Two Good is my 3 good things for today. Maybe you will try it….but however you feed your hunger this afternoon – make good choices for yourself. You. Are. Worth. It.

Ciao for now….Diane

I woke up this morning, like every morning, in safety, security, warmth and comfort. Gratitude abundance!

Before I even opened my eyes this morning, I could feel the things for which I am grateful.

Today’s small things are warm, soft and fixed.

#1 – The safety and comfort of my bed. I perhaps don’t think enough about the women and children in this world who live without this…and what it must do to their sense of self and security in the world.

#2 – Sometimes when I wake up an hour or two too early, I reach out, eyes still closed, and find Peter’s hand. He responds and clasps his warmth around my hand….and I drift back to sleep. Peter’s love is a fixed mark and it grounds me to the planet.

#3 – Quiet mornings where my shuffling feet are the only sound in the house. I make my coffee and sit outside, listening to the birds for a few moments…waking up slowly. There is security in this quiet. Our world, in big places far away, and small neighborhoods nearby need more peace.

Find your joy….

Ciao for now…Diane

Those are my 3 things today. I’m grateful for 1) Bacon, 2) Eggs, and 3 )Avocado.

This combination is my breakfast most days. In some combination, form and function. G.O.N.E. are the days of a tiny yogurt and berries. Eating bird seed and drinking water to save calories and opportunity for a treat later in the day. Those treats would spiral me into sugar oblivion. I’ve learned that those milk and fruit options were also a trigger for me. Not a key to success for me anyway. Of late, I am following a low carb, keto type diet, with focus on protein and healthy fats. It’s working. What does “working” mean, well… firstly, I. AM. SATISFIED! I am full, satiated both physically and spiritually. Hey, don’t discount the spiritual aspect of food. The universe gave us taste buds, so life could be sweeter, spicier, full of flavor and zest. Add those things back into your life, but in a healthy meaningful way.

Conclusion….my 3 small things today fill me with g.r.a.t.i.t.u.d.e. I am HAPPY. And…I’m losing weight and gaining control over my appetite and choices. A+ Diane.

Ciao for now…Diane

Build a habit of finding 3 small things each day. Three small things that make you grateful.

I’ve been gone for too long. So my #1 thing I am grateful for is …You. The fact that anyone is even still out t.h.e.r.e. reading this, is amazing in itself. So thank you. Thank you for listening in on my internal dialogue. The self-imposed therapy as I work my lifelong problem to turn my critical internal voice into a friend.

So we’re here. On the other side of the pandemic. Or we hope anyway. The past 18 months…whew. When somebody finds that DELETE button…PUSH it twice, okay? Just to make sure. Well, actually, maybe I don’t want to delete ALL of it. Let’s go back to gratitude….because I found some things that Ive learned to cherish in the past year….things that have become more deeply important to me than ever before. I wanna keep those. So, let me get them out of the way, and into my treasure basket – THEN, you can push the button. TWICE, remember, hit it twice.

So #2 came in the form of technology. When we all began to hunker down and separate physically, we learned to use ZOOM and let people, friends, work colleagues, and even strangers into our homes. Yea, even strangers. For me this happened in my Weight Watchers meetings. When the Workshops in Maryland closed down, (eh- and NEVER opened again, Grrrr!), an opening in the universe brought me Denise and all my old East Brunswick WW friends on ZOOM! WOW! Gratitude in abundance. It’s Sunday morning at 9am on ZOOM, but o.m.g is it fun. Huh? Weight Loss Can Be FUN? YES! We laugh, we learn, we motivate, we comfort and encourage. We. Are. Friends. My #2 of small things IS that WW community. Still to this day, I have never found a place where I feel as comfortable. There is a green chair in East Brunswick that I miss So So much. But Sundays on ZOOM bring that green chair and the community that surrounds it right. into. my. home. Come friends, you are welcome here. I am really hoping this lasts forever!

Number 3, for today…is family. My daughters who have cuddled closer this year. My husband who remains a solid rock upon which I rely and yet (also) a soft place for me to rest and be safe. Thank you sweethearts….your love and closeness this year has meant everything. My mom and my sister in Florida….boy have they had their fair share (and then some) of tough times. I’m grateful for your resilience and your bravery. You are not alone. Your family , as small as we are, are around you. Rely on us.

So the task for the next while….however long this while may be…is to look inside your life and find the small things. In those small things, I believe, we will find peace, and comfort, and the drive to reach tomorrow…..and its 3 more things.

We’ll find happiness….3 small things at a time.

I’m here, loving that you are there! Thank you….be well friends.

Ciao for now…Diane

When my daughter Erin was a little girl of 7 perhaps, we stumbled across a tv show, Anne of Green Gables. Now I had read the book when I was a girl, but soon enough Erin and I had pulled the back sofa cushions off the couch, and we snuggled in under a blanket and fell in love with Anne and Gilbert. Perhaps we became kindred spirits of sorts. Week after week, we laughed and talked and enjoyed being together with these amazing characters. Anne was so relatable….equally for a 7 year old and her middle age mom. We promised one day we’d go to PEI together. It’s still on our bucket list, but I’m convinced it will happen one day.

Anne had a resilience about her that was intoxicating. Every day was a fresh beginning, with no mistakes in it yet. Reflecting back, her mistakes were harmless, joyfully innocent, typically well intended. Anne was the gift to Marilla and Matthew that helped them see the hardship of life through a softer, playful, unbounded perspective.

Mistakes. What of them. Nothing more than an attempt. A try. A stretch with good intentions.

Good thing, tomorrow will come again. And another chance, a new day with a blank canvas upon which we will paint our mistakes. Anne, and my 7 year old Erin, visited my memories today and brought beautiful perspective into the things that challenge me. I’ll try again, and again, and again. We’re blessed with another new day…..use it well friends. I know you will.

Ciao for now….Diane

Sometimes the universe is talking to you….and it takes a little time to hear.

This weekend, i heard this statement, “Weight loss is the side effect of being a bad ass.” I was getting dressed after a nice hot relaxing bath this morning, and it stopped me in my tracks.

This doctor I was listening to on Youtube went on to say….most people who are trying to lose substantial weight ask him, ” I hope once I lose it, I can maintain it”. But what he says in reply is…”Maintaining is the first step to re-gaining”. Whoa.

Yea. Apparently, we need to be vigilant every day. Whew, man….just the thought of that makes me tired. Aren’t you tired? Well, this doctor said, “yea…well…you can be tired if you choose to see living life that way. But instead, he suggests that we shift our mind, and reframe our goals. See life every day as exciting and feeding ourself as one very small part of it. That it’s not hard. We make it hard by how we choose to look at food and weight as work”.

What if weight was just not that important. Huh?

LOL, yea, um – that’s been my life’s work Doc. My weight.

But see, THAT’S exactly what I’ve been doing wrong. Weight…up, or down, or the same….is NOT the point. It’s how I’ve been living my life that matters. My weight is just a side effect of how I’ve been living.

Most significantly overweight people have other factors that have lead to weight gain beyond overindulgance and bad relationships with food. Some of us have confidence issues, and we should work on that. We hide in the back of the photo, or better still — we take the photos to avoid being in them at all. We hide in the back row of our lives. Silence our voices. Bury our feelings. Deny our strengths. Forget our dreams. Fail before we try. Is it any surprise that we doubt our abilities?

The advice to us is to find something, something to throw yourself into that will grow an ability, grow your confidence, potentially open a new door for ourselves….. and become a badass at it. I <3 this!

I think this is what running was for me. Running was such a surprise. How much I loved it. How good it made me feel. And how capable I became at it. Who knew…I could be athletic? When I lost running…I felt like I lost ALL OF THAT. But thank goodness I allowed myself to try something else. None of us are 1-and-done at a.n.y.t.h.i.n.g. You can have a fresh start any. and. every. day. of . the. week. Now, kettlebell workouts give me that same feeling.

I. Can. Do. A. Plank .

I LOVE BURPEES

I Can Swing 53 pounds.

Who Is ThiS Person?

I’m Me. I Am A Badass.

Or at least that’s how it feels every time I do kettlebells.

While in quarantine, the people who run our gym, David and Abby, have been producing daily workouts via Zoom. 2-3 times a day. It’s amazing really. #39MinuteWorkout is an incredible community of badass men and women who work equally hard at becoming strong for themselves as they work at friendship with each other. And the trainers, David, Abby, Drew, Betsy and Wendy care as much about your success as you do. They will believe in you when you feel weak and will call out how AWESOME you are when those burpees rock! It’s unique. I can say this because, if someone like me…someone who lacks confidence in her physical abilities, can join and assimilate with this group of incredibly strong people, without any fear of being the “last kid in gym class to be chosen to a team”….Oh you get me….then, this place is special. #NoDoubt

Peter and I were working out last Monday night on Zoom with our people...and it was hard. Hey – it’s supposed to be hard. Hard means we’re growing. Peter took a step away and took a break to drink some water and he said, ‘Baby, you’re amazing. You push yourself hard, every time”.

Yea. I don’t know where that comes from, but it’s true. I don’t feel competitive. In fact, I sometimes still feel that “I hope no one is watching me” feeling. I am a work-in-progress, but I do push myself. But, you know what, I always push myself. At work, on the job, as a mom, with my kids, at fun, at play. Why should this be any different? Just because being athletic is new-ish to me, doesn’t mean I wouldn’t go at it with the same intensity that I bring to other facets of my life. It’s just been an area that I never allowed myself to think of as mine.

Now I do. And that’s huge.

So, I’ve reframed my journey a bit. I think back to one of my last longer talks with David. He tried to tell me this months ago. He said, “at some point, my mind set had to change. I had to stop looking at weight loss as the goal.” Back then, I couldn’t think my way into what he was saying. Perhaps this time in quarantine at home has given me the time to just do it. I think I get that now. Weight loss is a side effect to being a badass. Whatever that means to each and every one of us. And whatever that means to us over time. How we do it will change, should change. Being a badass is the constant.

Right now for me being a badass means working out with kettlebells on zoom 3-4 times a week and feeling incredibly strong and taking walks in this glorious spring sunshine, and feeding myself food that makes my skin glow.

Weight loss?

I believe it will come.

But my goal? It’s to live this new life of other goals that drive up my confidence and improve how I feel and change the way I see myself. If I string those days together…..how can I not manufacture happiness?

Be well friends. Rest peacefully when you rest. And be a badass at what you love. Keep walking the journey until you find it.

Ciao for now…Diane