Week of Dec. 10, 2017 – Dreaming of a White Christmas – Or Is It a Green Christmas?

By Joan Whetzel

 

There’s a Christmas song I’m sure all of us has heard called “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas.” Naturally here in Houston, none of us expects this to occur. It takes a meteorological miracle of astronomical proportions for precipitation to turn to snow down here. It doesn’t snow here. It rains. The las time a little snow dusted the ground was 8 years ago. Before that, I can’t remember I think my kids were 2 and 6, so we’re talking somewhere around 1989 --- maybe.

Well this week, one of those meteorological magicians dumped some snow on us. We got 2 inches in our yard, and on our cars, and Christmas yard ornaments. Well, it darned near shut down the city. But the ground was so warm that the streets didn’t freeze except a few Highway overpasses. And the schools had missed so much school because of Hurricane Harvey in August and September, that the schools didn’t close. Only a few started late.

Well, I got another Christmas miracle on the same day the snow came. The job I’ve been looking for – for 6 months – finally came through. I start on Monday. They pay weekly so my first paycheck comes Friday December 22^nd. I’m dreaming of a Green Christmas now. I asked my prayer warrior mom if she needed knee surgery after all that. She says, “No! I do all my praying from my Easy Chair these days. HE knows my knees aren’t made for kneeling anymore.”

From me to everyone out there, Have a Happy Green Christmas

Week of Sept. 17, 2017 - Gardening Therapy

By Joan Whetzel

Last weekend one of my cousins (Meg) shared on Facebook, that she had “a million things” she was supposed to do last weekend. But instead, she decided to stay home and work on her flowerbeds. Though the other activities may have proven more interesting, the “gardening therapy” did far more for her soul than the ones she rejected.

Suddenly several other people joined the conversation with similar responses of having done some sort of gardening therapy. My daughter, oldest granddaughter, and I mowed and edged the yard and weeded a flower bed that Friday. And, though it’s not gardening therapy, we washed our cars on Sunday.

The general discourse around “gardening therapy” examined parallel themes of enjoying the sunshine and pleasant temperatures (mid-80s for the highs here), getting a little exercise (good for the body and the soul), and the fact that it’s one of those therapies that’s way-ay-ay-ay more calming and way- ay-ay-ay cheaper than shopping therapy. Yeah, that’s something I learned a long time ago. Though I do dip my toes into the shopping therapy pool on occasion, I can’t afford it. And besides, shopping therapy doesn’t feed my soul. It just leaves me with a bunch stuff I can’t afford and don’t usually want to take care of.

Gardening Therapy, on the other hand, (includes mowing for me), not only makes me feel physically better, it makes me feel like I’ve accomplished something worthwhile. And when my daughter and I are done, we have something tangible to show for our efforts – a yard that looks nice. Even though it tends to tire us out, it’s funny how much that use of energy energizes us, and inspires us to accomplish other tasks (like the car wash).

I think the biggest thing about Gardening Therapy, is that it reminds me of the Gardening Therapy my Grandma Pauken indulged in. No, my yard and my flowerbeds will never look as grand, colorful, and beautiful as hers. But nowadays, I have a much healthier appreciation for the time she spent puttering out in her yard. Especially during when there’s nothing to do out in the yard. I kinda miss working out in the yard then.

Snow??? I live in Southeast Texas. What is snow? Does shoveling snow count as Gardening Therapy?

Week of July 2, 2017 – Prayer Warrior, or My Patron Saint of Roller Coasters

By Joan Whetzel

It’s been 4 years since my husband died and in those 4 years, my life has had a number of ups and downs. I can honestly say, there’ve been days at a time – weeks at a time – when it felt like a never-ending roller coaster. Yeah, I know, everybody gets them. But, at least for me, it has felt more overwhelming riding that roller coaster alone. It somehow didn’t seem as challenging when I had a partner, taking turns riding shotgun.

Usually when I get on one of these rides, I make a list (thanks dad for the list-making obsession) of all the possible problems that could come up, all the possible solutions to each problem, and a breakdown of the steps needed for a successful outcome. Actually, I have discovered that the act of list-making has a calming effect. It relieves at least some of my stress by redirecting my focus away from all the negative emotions and stress and potential problems, and aims my thoughts toward more constructive ways of dealing with the current roller coaster.

Needing a new job to pay the bills is definitely one of those cases. You see, I’ve been going through an employment roller coaster the last few weeks. I started looking for a job about 3 months ago and have been without a job (officially) for a month. While I’ve been performing all the necessary actions to help myself get a job, the need to pay the bills and a couple of extra (expensive) things with only my husband’s pension and dwindling funds in the savings has punctuated my need to get a steady paying job as soon as possible. The fact that it keeps my stress levels from disappearing has also been a reminder that I could use a little help of a spiritual nature.

That’s where my prayer warrior comes in. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know I should be praying for myself, asking Him for what I need, but it always feels a little selfish somehow. Whenever I mention my need to my mom – the world’s prayer warrior extraordinaire – she immediately gets on her knees, figuratively. Every time I’ve found myself in need, having her as my prayer warrior has brought me the best solutions and gotten them up and running in a rapid-fire delivery. Her prayers always work, and always quickly.

When this one showed signs of dragging on, I didn’t want to say anything, but I was beginning to wonder if my answer was going to be a permanent “no.” Last Friday, I visited my mom with my daughter and 2 of my siblings. While I was there, I got 3 – count ‘em three – phone calls from one company to set me up with an interview this week (Wednesday July 5, at noon).

My mom said she’d been praying like mad, and she was beginning to wonder if she might be losing her touch, or maybe she dialed the wrong number. Well that set us all off laughing about what it would look like if prayer-warrior mom decided it was time to make sure she had His attention. First, she’d clear her throat. If that didn’t work, she’d get on her knees in front of the Blessed Sacrament and give Him “the look” (you know which one I’m talking about). Then she’d follow through with the finger wag and a stern “Don’t make me come up there!”

I can hear him answering her back, “No, no, no Mary Louise! Please don’t come up here! One mom up here is enough.”

Don’t jump down my throat, and calling me sacrilegious for describing my mom pulling the mom-card on the Lord. Anybody who know my mom, and has had one of her prayer-warrior campaigns work on their behalf, knows I’m not being disrespectful here. This is just the way of things between Him and my mom. Besides I have the Lord and my prayer-warrior mom to thank for this interview and I know she’s back on her knees praying me through it. Praise the Lord!

JOAN'S OFFICE: February, It’s Winter…Wait, It’s Summer ,,,No, It’...

JOAN'S OFFICE: February, It’s Winter…Wait, It’s Summer ,,,No, It’...: By Joan Whetzel This winter has been way to warm. I think we’ve had maybe 2-weeks’ worth of cold days, a day here, 2 days there. And ...

February, It’s Winter…Wait, It’s Summer ,,,No, It’s Winter?

By Joan Whetzel

This winter has been way to warm. I think we’ve had maybe 2-weeks’ worth of cold days, a day here, 2 days there. And a couple of the cold nights hit below the freezing mark and killed off a lot of plant life around our neighborhood. The month of February has been so hot, I swear we’re already having summer.

Well, hot weather means new growth. So, we figured if it’s hot out we might as well get rid of the dead stuff and start cleaning up our yard. Wait and see what comes back. Which we’ve been doing the last couple of weeks. Pulling weeds, clearing out dead plants, trimming trees, sweeping up needles that the pine trees have been shedding like a herd of horses shedding their winter coats.

This morning (Saturday) we got out and mowed, front and back, for the first time this year. The grass wasn’t particularly tall, but it was starting to look a bit scraggly. We’ve been noticing most of our neighbors having the same idea about clearing out the dead stuff, trimming trees and shrubs, and mowing. Including one who’s been trying to get her husband to trim the shrubs for a couple years now. He kept replying that he liked them taller. He couldn’t get by with it this year. The winter/summer/winter/spring-fall/winter/summer took its toll on their yard too.

So right now, everyone’s yard looks a bit sparse. I noticed the garden center down the street has been doing the business this weekend. They can’t keep the grass rectangles in stock – yeah we had to replace a few in an area where we removed some paving stones. One of these paychecks, we are going back to see about some plants. In the meantime, we have planted some flower seeds – forget me nots, morning glories, and a few bulbs that started sprouting in their pouches.

I also washed my car this weekend. After I did, I noticed several of my neighbors doing the same. Both my next-door neighbors, and the guy across the street, were out most of the day Saturday working on their truck engines. I tell you, the last few weekends have felt like the lyrics from that Monkees song, “Pleasant Valley Sunday” with people out mowing, taking care of flower beds, grilling out – oh, yeah, the grills have been going every weekend. In February. I can hardly wait to see what the summer’s gonna be like.

Week of February 5, 2017 – Another Anniversary

By Joan Whetzel

 

This past week 2 anniversaries passed for me and my family – my father’s birthday on Feb. 2 and the 3^rd anniversary of his passing the next day. Normally, I feel a bit anxious this time of year since his passing. But this year, it really got to me.

You see, last Friday, a co-worker’s husband died in a horrible car accident. While I understand some of the widow part of what she’s going through, she’s also got a young son (9 years) and a step-son (17 years) that she and her husband were raising. I can’t imagine that part of what she’s going through.

So, while last week stirred up some of the feelings I had on my own widow’s journey, it also stirred up the loss of my father. The fact that her husband’s funeral fell on my dad’s birthday – and a day before the anniversary of his passing – is purely coincidental, I know. But it still had me off kilter last week.

Dealing with such anniversaries, up until now, involved “doing normal” – which means cleaning, grocery shopping, doing yardwork, and going to work. That last one – going to work – is what’s had me in a pickle. I go into work, expecting to see her there, and not knowing what to say to her. (Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know she’s not really going to be there, she’s got too much on her plate right now.) But then there’s also the prospect of hearing all of my co-workers talking about her and her loss. Part of me wants to join in the conversations. The other part of me doesn’t want to listen to the discussions. This anniversary made it all just a little too close for comfort. The usual “doing normal” didn’t seem to be helping.

The funeral did help a bit. There were the usual stories and laughs. (A reminder it’s okay to laugh at some of the memories.) And everyone in the auditorium shed a few tears, which gave me permission to shed a few tears of my own. Yeah, it felt selfish. After all this was for her and her family. But, still, the funeral gave me an excuse to cry a little without having to explain myself.

I think the best part of the funeral came toward the end. He was a firefighter, which – besides the huge crowd at the church (1,000+) – meant a full fire and police escort from the church to the graveside service (for family only) and there were bagpipes outside the church and at the gravesite. They also placed his coffin atop one of the engines and allowed his sons to ride with him to the cemetery.

While the funeral again gave me a bit of closure, I’ve found I needed to allow myself the opportunity to spend the weekend at home, just taking care of myself. Yes, I’m giving myself permission to be selfish.

Week of January 1, 2017 - Widows Are Happier

BY Joan Whetzel

 

I read an article recently about a study of nearly 2,000 widows and widowers in Italy. The study compared these widowed men and women over a 4-year period to see how they coped with the initial loss and widowhood over the next few years.

They study concluded that men were happier and less frail when married because they had wives taking care of them and their household needs. But once widowed, men were significantly more likely to become frail and depressed.

Women, it turns out, were 23% less likely to be frail and depressed after being widowed. Turns out that women are more likely to be stressed and depressed while married and taking care of their husbands, because they find “marriage restrictive and frustrating.”

Not only did they cope better with the initial stress of losing their husbands, the women in the study became much stronger and happier. Those that got jobs – or already had them – were less socially isolated and had greater job satisfaction. And those with higher education and financial levels had an even greater sense of physical and psychological well-being.

I don’t know if I’m as happy as my Italian counterparts, but I have to admit to feeling less stressed and depressed, and my life does feel less “restrictive and frustrating.” Working has definitely reduced my social isolation, and I no longer have that “caretaker” mentality I had when he was alive. I still find the need to remind myself, on occasion, that I don’t have to take his needs into consideration when making lifestyle changes.

I’ve been feeling this sense of freedom that I haven’t felt in a coon’s age. I don’t know if I’d call it happiness or relief. Either way, it feels pretty decent.