Tag Archives: Andrew O’Leske

Celebrating a perfect day: Simple pleasures, joy, and laughter 

Posted on May 1, 2025 | Leave a comment

Sometimes perfect days happen with a lot of fanfare – celebration, music, good food, maybe some dancing, people coming together to honor a special occasion. A marriage. A graduation. A new job. A new baby. Celebrations that recognize major life events.

Sometimes perfect days are so quiet and calm and beautiful that you can miss them if you aren’t paying attention. Sometimes they’re about what you’ve done or will do. Sometimes they’re about just being in the precious moments. 

I just had a perfect day. There wasn’t a lot that was extraordinary about it. It was just time spent getting little things done and also just being. 

I woke feeling strong and grounded. I was going to start my walking plan so I went out for a relaxed, leisurely walk. I didn’t have any distance or time plans. I just wanted to walk as far as I was comfortable and then come home when I was ready. I walked .97 miles. I know for someone who used to do 6 miles a day that’s not a lot, but I felt powerful. I haven’t walked much by myself at this point. The distortion in my vision caused by the winkle in my left retina and everything I’ve gone through with the breast cancer, diagnosis, surgeries, and recovery have kind of put me off my balance game again. But this morning, I had it. I felt so free and it was so lovely outside. 

I exited the condo to birdsong. I felt like I was being greeted and welcomed back into the world. Hummingbirds, mourning doves, and pigeons were the most vocal. But there were also robins, thrushes, and blackbirds raising their voices on this glorious morning. A neighbor was drying laundry and I could smell the warm, slightly scented air of fabric softener. I’ve always loved that smell. Snapdragons, pansies, and roses delighted my eyes, as did the xeroscape landscape with cacti and rock gardens throughout the complex. I was fully present in the moment and I loved it. 

When I came in from my walk, I made my breakfast shake and sat down to wait for sales people to come and talk with me about flooring for our condo. We’ve been trying to get new floors in our condominium since before we moved in. It’s been a challenge because of HOA regulations. We’ve researched multiple places and just couldn’t find products that met sound requirements. Without much hope, I contacted a place that was having a great promotion, explained my needs, and requested that they only send samples that met the HOA requirements. And they did! I had 11 samples to choose from, all of which met the requirements. That was a delightful win! 

Then Andrew and I went out to one of our favorite hangouts for lunch, talked, laughed, and played games together on his phone. It was lovely, a playful, happy time together. 

Then we decided to get psychic  readings done. I got them for Andrew for his birthday. It was fun. I liked how the reader saw Andrew‘s and my connection, our individual strengths, and the power of our relationship. While I was getting my reading, Andrew went to a popcorn store nearby and surprised me with my favorite popcorn – part caramel corn, part cheddar cheese. I learned about this combination years ago while in the Chicago airport heading to an academic conference. A friend recommended it to me. Yum! Then Andrew took me for a custard at an old-fashioned ice cream parlor. It felt like the sweetest mini date! 

We do wonderful, joyful things together all the time. But sometimes it’s really cool just to make it a date and to say that’s what it is and just do little things where we’re 100% focused on one another and ourselves. It was really special! 

After we got home, we snuggled and watched silly TV for a while. It was such a delightful way to end the day. I love how easy and open and connected we are. Andrew works at 4 AM, so he goes to bed early. I never want special days to end, so I stay up late. I found myself not wanting the day to end, so I got up to game with Stef. My son is my late night WOW partner. 

What a wonderful day of little moments and just being together, of being fully present. Sometimes perfect days aren’t made up of fanfare and celebration. They’re made up of simple, quiet moments of connection and love. 

Leave a comment

Posted in Joy, Simple pleasures, Uncategorized

Tagged , , , ,

Friends, Fremont Street, and My Healing Journey Continued

Posted on February 22, 2024 | Leave a comment

This photo probably looks like three friends having a good time on Fremont Street in Las Vegas. It is! But it is also so much more! Two months ago, I would not have been able to be here, let alone walk around and enjoy myself. The bright, colorful, moving light shows, the hustle and bustle of the crowds of people moving in all directions punctuated by laughter and silliness would have been too much for me. It would have taken me down. Within minutes, I would have had a blazing headache, been dizzy and nauseous, and had poor balance. I would’ve had to hold on to Andrew and Glyn‘s arms for stability. This time I did it with no such stress and very little physical support. 

Those symptoms, dizziness, nausea, lack of balance, and headaches, are my body’s way of telling me that I’m out of my comfort zone and I need to rein it back. (Other people have different reactions.) The thing is I don’t need to rein it back. I need to push through until it’s too much and then stop. That’s how I’m progressing on my healing journey. 

For those of you, who haven’t followed along, a year ago in a freak moment, part of my left retina detached. The night after I had surgery, I stumbled twice in the bathroom and trashed my knee, spraining my ACL, MCL, PCL, and shredding my meniscus. That required an additional surgery that could not happen until my eye had healed adequately, eight weeks after my retina reattachment surgery. Then I had a second eye surgery to remove scar tissue that had built up on my retina. 

I’m not completely back to normal yet, but I’m on the road and I see so much progress. There’s still distortion in my left eye, although with red light therapy (to remove inflammation in my eye and knee) and vestibular therapy to help my visual, physical, and auditory systems work together to control my balance and coordination, I see so much improvement. I am getting better! I still have a ways to go, but I’m on the road. As my eye doctor said, I’m not going to know how my vision will level out until at least a year from surgery, which was last March. That aside, I’m becoming more functional and self-sufficient all the time. My independence is something that I have always prized and have at various times in my life, lost. I continue to move forward in my recovery journey, still learning patience and the ability to rely on others when I need them.

Andrew has been an absolute rockstar through all of this. To be honest, I have not been easy. At times, my self-concept and self-esteem have suffered. I have felt bad about myself. My internal narrative can get pretty dark and negative sometimes. Through it all Andrew has reaffirmed and reinforced that caring for me is where he chooses to be, and that he would not choose to be anywhere else. He also consistently reminds me of how far I’ve come, a journey that it’s difficult for me to see step-by-step. He has literally been my lifesaver. I cannot express my gratitude enough.

And now, my friend Glyn. He showed me nurturing, care, and understanding over a decade ago when I broke both of my wrists. You learn a lot about people by how comfortable they are being with you when you’re damaged. Glyn was always comfortable and easy to be around where other friends were sometimes awkward, or simply avoided me. 

This situation was different. I had had a couple friends visit a day or two as I recovered, but with no expectations that I would be able to do anything. Paaige and Miche were wonderful. They had no expectations that I would do anything or go anywhere and were just comfortable to be with me and follow my lead. Glyn was making his first trip to Las Vegas and to be honest, I was a little fearful. With my friends, I am normally vibrant, engaged, high energy, and high activity. I have not been able to be those things since these accidents. I didn’t want to become frustrated that I couldn’t be the me that I wanted to be. I didn’t want my friend to have a disappointing experience in Las Vegas. I wanted to make sure that I set appropriate boundaries and called events and activities when I needed to. Glyn was awesome! As we explored Resorts World, where my daughter works, and Fontainebleau, where the new Cocoa Dolce is located, Glyn recommended that we stop for a cup of tea – ostensibly because he was thirsty – likely he also recognized that I was getting tired. It was wonderful to have someone ask for something they wanted that benefited me rather than having someone show pity or concern for my capacity. Well done, my friend! 

We had a big exploration day that day. We walked over 12,000 steps, found the Ghost Donkey Bar where I tried my first sips of mezcal. We explored the Bellagio, rode the bus up and down the strip, and I felt gloriously free and capable. When we needed breaks, we stopped. When I needed support, I held Glyn’s arm. It was such a strong powerful day for me. 

The next two days I was much more low energy and I needed to rein it back in a bit. We still had fun visiting some of my favorite places and enjoying lunch and dinner. Andrew picked up the slack one night and took Glyn to explore some sites while I rested. Then we had another wonderful “get out there and do things” day, giving Glyn his first experience with Korean barbecue at Master Kim’s, spending time on Fremont Street, and going to the ice bar 5° Below Zero in Mandalay Bay, where we wore fur coats and hats and sipped colorful, sugary sweet cocktails from glasses made of ice. The last day of his visit Glyn and I went to lunch at a new Japanese restaurant in Town Square, Mall. 

This trip was about both of us doing things we had never done before. It was about me being kind to myself (although I did have a couple moments, when my gremlin voice – what I call my critical self talk – tried to take me down), asking for what I needed, enjoying myself to the fullest, recognizing that it’s OK to be low energy sometimes and almost normal others. Realizing the freedom to be with a friend that I could trust to understand, and not to push. The steps toward normalcy are important and powerful, as is the recognition that I still have some limitations, and that these may continue indefinitely. Having loved ones and friends for support and nurturing during these times are more precious than gold.

Leave a comment

Posted in Healing from injury, Health and Healing, Red Light Therapy, self care, Vestibular Therapy

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , ,

A Love Letter to My Sweetie for Being AWESOME!!!

Posted on November 22, 2022 | Leave a comment

This is a love letter to my sweetie, my amazing partner Andrew. During this trying time, while working 10-12 hour days, he has also been my full time caregiver. In addition to being loving, compassionate, and kind, he is incredibly inventive. Because of the balance issues caused by my eye surgery, knee immobilization, and crutches, I am not especially coordinated (I see everything in 2 dimensions and as if one eye is under water, so I end up feeling off balance, dizzy, and nauseous most of the time, whether my eye is open or closed.), I can’t do many things for myself at the moment. So Andrew finds solutions to help me be as independent as possible.

He got a lift for the toilet seat so I could save my good knee. He concocted a shower strategy that involved a storage tub, a pillow in a garbage bag, sleeved in a t-shirt that I can, with help, sit on in the bath. Because my favorite way to relax is to take baths (and we tried a strategy the other night that was a little scary), he went to the store and purchased a precisely cut oak plank to sit across the back of the tub so I could more easily and safely lift myself in and out of the water. It was genius.

He helps me get dressed. He brings me what I need to wash my face, brush my teeth, get ready for my day or for bed. He prepares my office chair or the couch (doubling seat cushions so I sit higher and can more easily get up and down) so I don’t have to spend all my time in bed.

He also cooks almost all our meals, from 3 meat tacos to Fattoush salad to hummus, veggies and zatar chips, he regularly makes creative and delicious dishes that feed my soul and my body. He brings me Starbucks beverages, chocolate, and flowers to lift my spirits.

I’m getting more mobile, or at least more used to viewing the world in 2 dimensions. My knee hurts less (a sign that I may have strained or pulled rather than seriously damaging things – fingers crossed). I’ve been able to sleep a bit more. The first two weeks pain woke me (and as a result, Andrew, every 2 hours). Last night I slept 5 hours, then 3 more. Andrew got 7 hours total. Two days in the last week, I got up by myself, washed my face and brushed my teeth.

I have to be honest, I have not always handled this situation with the grace I’d like. I cry regularly. I am bored and sometimes frustrated. But through it all, I am grateful.

Ten years ago Andrew was Stefan’s backup when I broke both my wrists in a dancing accident. I was unable to do anything for 3 months, then had to learn how to use my hands again and rebuild my strength. With love and compassion, Andrew helped care for me. He made me feel safe to need care and support. He nurtured and protected me. Now, 10 years later, Andrew is my full time caregiver as I get through this strange moment. I could not ask for a better, more loving partner. I am grateful for you. I am grateful to you, my love!

Leave a comment

Posted in Health and Healing, Reflections

Tagged , , ,

Adventures in aging: Part 3 – Seriously?! There’s more?!

Posted on November 17, 2022 | Leave a comment

Apparently the universe was not done giving me the “slow down” messages with simply a detached retina and sore knee that can’t be assessed, let alone fixed, until after my retina heals. So, … at least eight weeks.

The night of my surgery, I stumbled in the bathroom twice in succession, heard a loud pop both times in my right knee (the sore one), felt excruciating pain, and to cut to the chase, had to be taken to the hospital in an ambulance. I feel oddly embarrassed by this. I think prior to this week I’ve been in the ER only a handful of times in my life, usually for someone else, but only once before in an ambulance.

The 911 response team was wonderful. They immediately gave me IV pain meds that took the edge off. “They won’t stop the pain”, the paramedic said. “They’ll just make you care less.” The EMTs apologized for the fact that they actually had to get me on the gurney and into the ambulance and to the hospital. And all this was going to hurt… A lot… It did.

Ambulance maintenance clearly does not include shocks. I felt every bump along the way. The EMT gave me a little more pain medication in route.

Apparently fentanyl derivatives make me very talkative. The EMT kept asking me questions and I kept answering them. I babbled the whole way. It only occurred to me later that this was a distraction strategy – keeping my mind on something other than the pain. He asked about my career – directing forensics at St. Olaf College immediately after earning my PhD, helping create the precursors to what become the School of Public Health at UNR, serving as the Kansas Health Foundation Distinguished Chair in Strategic Communication and starting the Wichita State University Hunger Awareness Initiative, teaching judges around the world, traveling with my children, my amazing partner Andrew, and on and on. I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone so much of the story of my life in one 20 minute moment. And through it all, I reaffirmed for myself how wonderful my life is except for this weird moment… and, you know, some other weird moments,… but those are different stories. Apparently even when I’m on drugs I recognize how privileged and blessed I am.

We picked the hospital we did because it was in my insurance network and I’d had a very positive experience there earlier in the week when my retina partially detached (see parts 1&2 in this series). Andrew also called in advance to make sure they had people available to address my injuries. They told us they had people on call who could take care of me, if necessary.

We and the hospital staff differed vastly in our understandings of what “care” meant. For us that meant figure out what’s going on with my knee and get a plan to fix it. For them it meant “If it ain’t broke we don’t fix it”, a literal quotation from my attending physician. They did, however give me great IV pain meds, so I was able to relax a bit.

Andrew followed the ambulance in his car. At the hospital the ambulance went in one entrance and the EMTs directed Andrew to park in a nearby lot. “They’ll let you in back as soon as you get in. Don’t worry we’ll take good care of her.” And they did. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ to the 911 response team. The ER staff were a mixed bag. I asked for Andrew from the time I got into a bed in the ER. They made him wait an hour and a half in the waiting room until they allowed him back with me.

When we got to the hospital Andrew called my daughter Alyssa. I hadn’t been able to reach her. Alyssa came immediately and they let her back with me.

They did a really nifty set of x-rays in the bed. I didn’t have to move my sore knee much or turn my head. It was pretty snappy. I knew that I hadn’t broken anything. I hadn’t actually fallen. So it had to be soft tissue damage. But x-rays are the ER go to.

What I should have remembered from Alyssa’s experience shredding her knee was that emergency rooms, although they tell you they have orthopedic specialists and surgeons on call, don’t call them to the ER except to set bones. When I say I should have remembered that ERs don’t treat soft tissue injuries, what I mean is that 10 years ago when Alyssa destroyed her knee, severing her ACL, MCL, tore meniscus, and severely bruised her knee, they sent her home with no wrap, no brace, and no crutches because her leg wasn’t broken. When we went to the doctor the next day and found out the extent of her injuries, I was livid. I assumed Alyssa’s experience was just bad care. I didn’t realize it was ER practice not to do anything with soft tissue injuries.

With Alyssa’s insistence, they did finally decide to give me pain meds, the sling that I wear from my thigh to my ankle, and a pair of crutches. They then wished me the best of luck in finding a referral as they didn’t have one to give me. Not sure how any of that means orthopedic surgeons on call… or care… But there you go…

Reflections:

1. I’m really not sure what I should have done when I hurt myself that badly at night. The pain was unbearable. I definitely needed some serious pain meds and I am not clear what the alternative to the ER might have been.

2. I need a clear understanding of what services are provided in the ER. Maybe we all do. It’s important to know that they don’t deal with soft tissue injuries, no matter how painful they are. In the words of my attending physician “We treat blood and bones.” Neither were my issue. In the ER, they x-ray. Because the same ER had done CT scans with and without contrast and ultrasounds earlier in the week, I expected more.

3. It’s very important to have an advocate. My daughter made things happen quickly once she arrived.

4. In all situations, assertiveness and perseverance are important in getting your needs met. It was very difficult to get the health providers to come down to my level so I could actually see them. Since having had my retina reattachment surgery earlier that day I could not lift my head nor could I lie anywhere but on my right side, eyes parallel to the floor. I repeatedly asked the same doctor and nurse to sit down so I could see them when they talked to me. That actually helped them stop treating me like I wasn’t really a person and facilitated communication. I’m glad I was assertive about that.

5. It helps to have a professional that you can call for back up support. I am incredibly grateful to one of my ex students who is a well respected doctor and has worked in the Las Vegas medical community. She talked with me on the phone while I was in the ER, clarified my expectations, and helped me strategize.

6. Even though I didn’t get what I hoped for, a diagnosis and a plan for treatment for my knee, I did get what I actually needed in that moment. I got pain medication, a brace, and crutches. That’s a lot to be thankful for.

Leave a comment

Posted in Health Communication, Recovery from injury, Reflections

Tagged , , , , ,

On Surviving and Thriving after an Armed Home Invasion

Posted on March 19, 2015 | 1 comment

As many of you know, my son Stefan and I recently received a life lesson from a gun wielding home invader. Many people have asked for my story, so I’ll share it here.

Tuesday, February 24th had been a really awesome day. I’d gotten gorgeous pink highlights in my hair done by the wonderful Jessica Shoenhofer. I’d spend 3 hours working with my friend Davis Sickmon on my website: www.DrDeborah.co. I was excited about how it was coming along. Stefan had gotten a haircut and was feeling better after his back injury several weeks before and his WSU classes were going well. I was excited to see him at the end of the day and share our stories.

I drove home, first singing along with the Pippin soundtrack playing in my car, then checking in with my friend Andrew on the phone. I was in a fabulous mood. I pulled into the driveway, flicking the button to open the garage door, pulled into the garage, shutting the door behind me. I got off the phone, got out of my car, unlocked the back door to the house, entered, dropped my purse on the floor of the mud room and called for my son.

Stefan called back. He was in the kitchen making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I entered the kitchen carrying my computer bag and dropped it on a chair at the table. Stefan and I talked about his sandwiches and my website, laughing and smiling. Then we heard an ear splitting crash, followed by a second crash. We looked at one another, startled and headed to the living room. Stefan was ahead of me rounding the corner. He turned around quickly saying “He’s got a gun”. We both moved back into the kitchen on either side of the table and the gunmen entered, his gun in his left hand out in front of him, pointing toward us. He pointed it at Stefan first, then me and demanded my bag. I picked up my computer bag and handed it to him, my right hand to his. I raised my hands. He took my bag and I told him to just take it and go. He waived his gun back and forth as he backed away telling us to stay in the kitchen. I told him it was all good and we weren’t going anywhere. As he rounded the corner, he told us that if we called the police, he’d come back and kill us. Then he left running.

I was aware of several things: 1) He wasn’t wearing a mask or covering his face in any way and the hood of his grey hoodie was back. I remember thinking, he has a reason to shoot me. I’d seen his face. So, I forgot what he looked like. (I will remember!) 2) When he asked for my bag I had this quick, smug insight that he thought my computer bag was my purse and that it was safely behind me in the mud room. It was a gift from my daughter and I was happy not to lose it. 3) For a split second he looked at my hands, raised. I wear a lot of rings, but he couldn’t really see them as my hands were up, facing him. I remember thinking, please don’t notice my rings. I only wear rings that mean something to me. I would have hated to lose them. I felt like Obi-Wan Kenobi. “These rings are nothing. You have what you came for. Leave now.” I thought. 4) I was amazingly calm. I could tell he was scared and my immediate goal became to get him out of the house as quickly and smoothly as possible. I didn’t even think this. I knew it. 5) My communication skills training kicked in without a beat. I wanted to appear cooperative and nonthreatening. 6) I felt the solidarity between Stefan and me. I saw us as surrounded by white light, the invader, like Pigpen from the Peanuts cartoons, preceded and surrounded by a grey dust cloud. 6) I thought that he, the invader, was new, scared, hadn’t done this before. I was worried that he might panic, but also glad that I might be able to get him to leave quickly. I wondered if this was a gang initiation.

After he ran out, Stefan ran after him and slammed the door. Then, I lost it. I mean I REALLY LOST IT! I have never had a panic attack before and I was crying, shaking, and hyperventilating. I was terrified. Stefan got me a chair, which we used to block the broken door, told me to sit down, and told me to call my friend Andrew. I couldn’t speak clearly. I was shaking and sobbing. Andrew asked if we’d called 911. I remember saying “Yeah, right, call 911. That’s what I’m supposed to do. Call 911.” I hung up and called 911. I couldn’t remember anything. I couldn’t answer any question the kind, steady, female operator asked me. She stayed with me on the phone until the police arrived. Stefan made me move back toward the middle of the house to talk with her, reminding me that the gunman had said he’d kill us if we called the police. I moved back, but never let Stefan out of my sight.  He was so calm and composed. He answered all the questions the operator, and then the police asked when they arrived. I was still in shock and could remember very little. I was amazed at Stefan’s poise and presence, his ability to remember details I had blocked. My friend Andrew soon arrived and when the police and the crime scene investigators were done, we grabbed bags and headed to his house. His sons waiting for us, had already made a place for Stefan and his computer in their game room. They all welcomed us with open arms. They made us feel safe. I will never be able to express my gratitude.

There have been good and bad days over the last several weeks. We both went to see a crisis counselor. That at least helped us know that what we were experiencing was normal and what we might expect over the next several weeks. I was supposed to leave the day after the invasion to visit Alyssa in Las Vegas, but I couldn’t leave. I had to feel safe first. I had to get my feet back under me. I will finally go to see her next week. Stefan and I have found a new place to live with better security. We’re getting back to normal. I wouldn’t say we’re thriving yet. Our biggest hurdle is packing our house to move. I still get tightness in my chest whenever I go there and the idea of spending hours there packing is almost more than I can stand. That said, that part will all be over soon. We are moving forward!

10639613_10205033698620933_7314022242345238720_n

1 Comment

Posted in Armed home invasion, Crime, Family, Reflections, Self-determination

Tagged , , ,

Reflections on Hunger, Graduation & Insights 3 Weeks after My Return from My Writing Retreat in Florence

Posted on December 23, 2014 | Leave a comment

It is 3 weeks since I left Florence, Italy. These 3 weeks have been a whirlwind. When I got home, I had a two foot stack of mail to wade through. I finally got to that last night only to realize that there was another 3 foot stack in my son’s room. Note to self: Figure out how to reduce junk mail in my life. Even though there was a lot of junk, there were some important things in there as well, business that must be taken care of. Today has been about catching up on all the things I missed while I was away. My 3 month writing retreat in Italy fed my soul in a variety of ways, teaching me things I hope to be able to sustain here.

So why was my return a whirlwind? Aside from the typical issues with reentry, a couple really huge things have happened since I came home.

Hunger Awareness

After my return, I almost immediately went to New York for the presentation of the PUSH – Presidents United to Solve Hunger initiative at the United Nations.

026

021

The Economic and Social Counsel of the United Nations, New York

024

With Jan Rivero of Stop Hunger Now

That short trip, from December 8-10 reinforced for me the importance of the WSU Hunger Awareness Initiative we’re building. I do not believe one size fits all in hunger response. As a community-based researcher and engaged scholar, I believe that solutions must be tailored in collaboration with communities and responsive to the dynamics of communities and cultures if they are to be effective and sustainable.

Although Wichita State University has not signed the alliance, it was a thrill to witness the 60 + universities who have partnered in this effort to bring the power of universities, administrators, faculty, staff and students, to bear on ending hunger. The creative energy of the academy, for those part of the alliance, and for those who choose to act independently, will lead to innovative solutions to hunger in both the short and long-term. We will play a pivotal role in ending hunger in our lifetime.

032

The inaugural group of University Presidents committed to the PUSH alliance

It was inspiring to see the power, insight and energy of all involved in this event. The alliance was invited to return to the UN in September to report our progress in line with the UN post-2015 development planning. Amina Mohammed Special Advisor of the Secretary-General on Post-2015 Development Planning delivered Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon’s message to the assembly. Here’s a link to his statement: http://www.un.org/sg/statements/index.asp?nid=8272

University Graduation

On December 12, I left for Nevada to prepare for my daughter’s graduation from the University of Nevada, Las Vegas on December 16. I’m not sure I’ve attended a college graduation in which I was not a faculty member in academic regalia since my own graduations. It was interesting to be on the other side. I loved the efficiency, the pomp, and circumstance of the UNLV ceremony.

181

Matthew Gob, Mary Elton, Robert Reisch, Stefan Ballard-Reisch

186

Alyssa with the Gob family

197

Mary Elton, Alyssa, Andrew O’Leske

Surrounded by family and friends, I felt pride and admiration for my daughter, as dressed in her scarlet robe, she processed into the Thomas and Mack Center, found her seat, walked to the stage, received her diploma, and returned to her seat.

189

Proud Mommy and the Graduate

196

Proud Daddy and the Graduate

185

Proud Brother and the Graduate

I was the first person in my family to graduate college. For me education has always been a ticket to fulfilling my dreams. I wanted that for my children. While college graduation was not expected of me, it was of my children and here was my daughter, completing her degree in psychology and communication in only 3 ½ years, the same rate it took me to complete mine. I look forward to what comes next for her. Her journey is only beginning.

Several weeks ago, Alyssa asked me how it felt to watch her grow up and become an adult.  I told her I had been watching her grow on this trajectory since she was born and that I loved every moment of her development. This is true. While many parents seem to view college graduation as the end of something, for me, it is simply a step into the next phase of her life, an important, momentous step, but a step nonetheless.

I stayed in Las Vegas with her until December 19th to help her prepare for the holidays. She won’t be able to come home due to her job, one of the realities of having adult children, but I wanted her to be fully stocked with food, household items, a full tank of gas, etc. before I left her. We’ll FaceTime Christmas morning and open presents together. The amazing advances in technology allow us to be together even when we can’t physically be in the same place.

What have I learned?

The last 4 months have been amazing in so many ways. The last 2 days since returning from Las Vegas, have allowed me to reflect on a number of things and I have several insights into myself:

  • I’ve learned that I value peace and calm, a more measured approach to my life. I gained this in Florence on my writing retreat. I know that to sustain this, I will have to consciously nurture the patience I have been developing since I broke my wrists slightly over 2 years ago, and reinforced over the last 4 months. I will have to be conscious of my desire to live my life mindfully. This will require scheduling time to walk and work out. I’ve performed at a C- level on this so far since my return. I’ve succumbed to a lot of fires. Fitting walking in as smoothly as I did in Italy will be important to maintaining this balance. I realize that this will require planning. It will also require saying “no” when “yes” is the wrong answer and remembering that because I “can” do something, doesn’t mean I “have to”, and because I care about someone doesn’t mean I have to agree to their requests. Still working on this one.
  • I’ve learned that I write all the time. And while much of the writing I have done since I got home has been directed toward grant applications for organizations I care about, email messages to friends and family, feedback to colleagues planning conferences, it has also been consistent with the two books I outlined in Italy. It’s a new approach for me to realize how often in my daily communication with others, I engage topics of importance to my writing. That said, I need to again make time to write in a focused, directed manner in order to continue to advance these and my other projects. Because I am living them, this is easier than it might be.
  • I spent 3 months largely in seclusion, a unique experience for an extrovert. I am back and the pull of social engagement is very strong, especially at this time of year. I need to remain mindful here as well. I need to make time for myself to continue to nurture this work that I am doing while engaging the world again as an extrovert.

Into my family:

  • It took my friend Andrew to point out to me that BOTH of my children graduated from college this year. My son earned an associate’s degree to go along with his theater certificate in spring and my daughter graduated with her bachelor of arts degree less than a week ago. I am so proud of both of them.
  • I have 2 very capable, independent, strong adult children. I am so honored to be their mom and I look forward to what the future (and our present together) holds for them.
  • I’ve learned that I can love as much 5000 miles away, as I can 19 hours away, as I can in the same house. That’s cool!

Leave a comment

Posted in Family, Hunger, Reflections

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,