It is hard for me to remember a time that I didn’t love art.
In fact, I have been pencil sketching since I was a kid. Ironically enough, I used to draw pictures of airplanes. Little did I know that after college graduation, I would become a pilot—a profession that would take my sketching skills to new heights.
I flew for Pan American Airways. Traveling internationally for a living, I never left home without my sketchpad. It was my companion during layovers. Together, we ventured to some of the most stunning cities around the world. Sketching primarily with charcoal pencils, I captured the beauty of churches in Frankfort, the Opera House in Vienna, Ireland landscapes and street scenes in Warsaw, Africa and Tokyo.
Are you borrowing worries and anxieties from tomorrow and bringing them into today?
I often do that. You, too?
It must be a common practice for it’s mentioned in the Bible (Matthew 6). Will my health be compromised? Will the money last? Will health care or immigration policies affect me or those I love?
When you’ve spent most of your life learning to make a living, how do you make the transition to learning for the simple sake of learning?
For many people older than 50, that’s a familiar situation.
As a result of the learning we’ve done so far, we have been able to provide for our families. But, after a certain age at which we no longer have to worry as much about making a living, or our nest is empty, we may face the question: What do we do now?
The Christmas holiday is certainly known as a time of peace and fellowship. Yet family issues do arise on occasion and even simple conversations in a world that suddenly seems more conflictive can turn to anger. Here are some helpful tips to make sure your holidays remain true to their tradition.
One apparent constant in the news lately is conflict. Countless stories tell of personal and group confrontations that have arisen over the recent national elections. We have even seen information about how families have been split over their views—or how social media have driven a wedge among friends.
There is certainly nothing wrong with political or other debate and a healthy sharing of opinion keeps democracies fresh, but are there healthy ways to deal with and manage confrontation, in a variety of situations including work or family life?
The holidays, with all their hustle and bustle, can add additional stress and strain for caregivers, particularly people caring for someone with Alzheimer’s disease or a similar memory-related illness.
I hope the following tips and ideas will help keep your holidays merry and bright.
Simplify the season
Make this the season to simplify. Instead of the usual six-course family dinner, maybe you can do a potluck or a simple brunch. One caregiver—who always had her holidays cards in the mail on Thanksgiving Day—decided instead to send an email to her family and friends wishing them a happy holiday.
She explained she would not be sending out cards because her focus this holiday was on caring for her parents—and herself. Good for her!
Halloween is behind us, yes, but it’s still with us, too, and in a bad way: The treats of trick-or-treating can easily be the start of holiday seasons full of unhealthy eating.
That’s because those overflowing trick-or-treat bags are soon followed by turkey and stuffing and pies and Christmas cookies—well, you get the picture.
According to the New England Journal of Medicine, significant weight gains occur right after major holidays and can take up to five months or more to reverse.
At many of Diakon’s senior living communities, we have wellness coordinators and committees to encourage both residents and staff members to make healthy choices.
When I arrived at Diakon in 2015, I was impressed with a number of things: the scope and breadth of programs, the difference those programs made in lives, the unbroken heritage of service since 1868 and the dedication and commitment of staff throughout the organization.
The time was also one of challenge and change.
We were essentially giving birth to a new organization as Diakon Child, Family & Community Ministries—offering such services as adoption and foster care, at-risk youth services and counseling and behavioral health care for people of all ages—was created as a “sister” to Diakon Lutheran Social Ministries.
In line with that creation, we needed to make more-efficient use of our limited benevolent-care dollars. We needed to grow our programs, both in scope and geography. And we needed to demonstrate our impact.
We still need help Saturday in the concession stand …
The play is only two weeks away and we need parents to sew costumes …
Our May Day committee needs a chairperson and you did such a great job the last two years …
The list can go on and on. On a weekly basis, our email inboxes, kids’ backpacks and Facebook newsfeeds are filled with multiple opportunities to volunteer.
These are great opportunities to make a difference … yet we receive so many that we typically can respond only to a few.
That can make the task for finding and organizing volunteers overwhelming.
In fact, most people seem to fall into one of two types of categories—those who avoid any type of all volunteer activity and those who volunteer for everything.
Unfortunately, members of that second group can eventually burn out and become part of the first group.
So why doesn’t everyone just do their part so the same people don’t burn out?
In a long-ago article in T-LSA Now, I wrote, upon the retirement of the Rev. Dr. Harold Haas, that I could never bring myself to call him Harold.
That may have been because of my age (I was half the age I am today when I wrote that article), but it also stemmed from my respect for Dr. Haas (see, even now, I write Dr. Haas). He was simply a man, I told him and wrote about him, who engendered respect.
At the conclusion of that article, in light of his wishes, however, I wished “Harold” a happy retirement.
Unfortunately, another transition has occurred and I learned this week that Dr. Haas passed away in August at the age of 98. He had moved to New England some years ago to be near children and grandchildren; his wife, Evelyn, passed away two decades ago.
If Dr. Haas’ name is unfamiliar to you, that’s understandable, given the passage of time. Yet I believe it’s important you know who he was.
When I arrived at Luther Crest in 2011, at the age of 76, I had no idea I’d end up writing a book. But it was, after all, a period of starting over.
I had lived in New York State all of my life before my move and had experienced numerous new beginnings: leaving my parents’ home to marry; moving from Brooklyn to Long Island as a young mother; getting divorced; meeting my life partner and moving to his home; retiring from my job as a social worker in the domestic violence field; seeing my partner through his final illness and then moving into a kind of transitional housing situation until Dan the Moving Man carried me off to my new, and probably final, destination, Luther Crest.
I was happy and excited about starting over again.
I loved my small apartment, crammed too full of precious items from my past lives, and I was excited by the novelty of no longer having to eat solitary dinners in front of the TV.