Guest Bloggers – Page 41 – Disney Leadership Keynote Speaker

100 Year Old Giggle Monster

Thank You Lorie Sheffer For Always Sharing

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound…of Guest Blogger Lorie Sheffer:

“Do you know I’ll be 100 next month?”

That’s one of the first things my father’s aunt asked me when I stopped by her house last week. Dad always takes an arrangement of Christmas flowers to her over the holidays, but since he isn’t out and about yet I offered to do the honors. My brother runs into her from time to time and it always leaves him smiling. I thought I had better visit soon if I wanted a chance to chat. She was my grandmother’s little sister. The physical resemblance, voice and mannerisms are striking.

Ruth lives with her daughter. They get out to restaurants and have their hair done in a salon on a regular basis. When my brother saw them they were at the grocery store. Ruth immediately told him that she does not need to use the scooter she was riding; she can walk, but her daughter makes her use it. Then she rolled her eyes and sighed. When she was in her early 90s she had a hip replaced because the arthritic one was slowing her down. She liked to travel to Florida to visit her granddaughter. One time on a visit there she found out the hard way that while a Jacuzzi is soothing for aching muscles, one cannot dump in copious amounts of bubble bath. Not too many years ago my parents ran into her at a First Night celebration in the city. She was ringing in the New Year wearing a glittering paper crown and blowing a party horn. She has slowed down since the wild days of her 90s.

I was struck by her appearance. While she spoke to me I just kept thinking, “You have GOT to be kidding me!” There she sat on her easy chair, wearing brown slacks and a printed ¾ sleeve knit top. She gets too hot for long sleeves. Always has. She likes that her bedroom has a ceiling fan. She also likes to watch the Home and Garden channel on her TV, but wonders why all of the really good Christmas movies are on so late at night. She was up so late watching movies the night before that she didn’t get out of bed that day until noon. This made her giggle.

Ruth’s birthday is mid January, and here in Pennsylvania that can mean anything from an unseasonably balmy day to snow, icy roads and bone chilling winds. Her immediate family will come to her home and celebrate the actual day, then in the spring they will have a much larger celebration. She jokingly suggested a dance party. Says she can probably kick higher than anyone there. To prove it, she kicked her leg out from her chair to a rather impressive height. Her daughter informed her that she may kick, but she would also end up on her rear end. With that, she smiled, put her hand on her hip and shot back, “WELL, Phyllis, I said I could kick higher than anyone. I never said I could stay on my feet. I’m sure someone would stand behind me and catch me!” And with that said, she let out one of her giggles.

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Everyone’s A Critic

Walt Said His Brother, The Mailman, Was The Smart Disney

It’s Saturday, which means only one thing, Guest Blogger Lorie Sheffer is here to make us think:

The recent publicity surrounding the upcoming wedding of Prince William reminds me of the great lesson I learned about life from his mother, the late Princess Diana and Sarah, Duchess of York. Be happy and true to yourself, because there will always be people around whose main goal is to tear you down. Diana and Sarah, or Fergie as we all came to know her, were victims of “damned if you do, damned if you don’t.” Diana seemed to have a love/hate relationship with the press, while Sarah’s fall from grace was much more permanent.

I remember waking up at some God-awful hour to watch the much-anticipated wedding of Prince Charles and Lady Diana Spencer. Theirs was a fairy tale come true, or so we were lead to believe. We then read stories of the feisty redhead who stole the heart of Charles’ younger brother, Andrew. I watched as Diana and Sarah became partners in crime, so to speak, and in doing so breathed a new life into what had become a tired monarchy. Then the tabloids turned on them. Diana was called out for being too thin, suspected of having an eating disorder. She was criticized for focusing too much on high fashion. She was accused of being too smothering with her sons. Sarah, on the other hand, was named The Duchess of Pork because of her more curvaceous figure. She was called frumpy, and fingers wagged at her supposed lack of maternal instincts. Diana was too shy and aloof, while Sarah was too gregarious. Damned if you do and damned if you don’t. Of course we all know how it turned out for the two of them. Hard to imagine, but had she lived, Diana would have been 49 years old this past July. Sarah is now 51.

I watched as William and Kate, the next generation of royals, stood before the cameras to formally announce their engagement. I hope these two lovely young people have learned from the past and that they are given some peace, respect and privacy. Most of all, I hope that they somehow understand that since they cannot possibly, nor should they feel the need to, please everyone else, the very most they can hope for is to please themselves and one another.

“I, on the other hand, completely believed everything they wrote. I believed I was the worthless person they were talking about.” – Sarah Ferguson

“Being a princess isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” – Diana, Princess of Wales

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Take A Deep Breath

Lorie Sheffer, Guest Blogger, thank you for being here for us every weekend:

Last week I spent the night alone in my childhood bedroom. The lavender walls, which I grudgingly compromised my original choice of dark purple for, have been changed to antique white and my beloved window seat has been removed. Needless to say, my posters of Peter Frampton and Aerosmith are long gone. It now has the look of a very pleasant but infrequently used guest room.

Exhausted, I soon found that I couldn’t sleep. Maybe it was the thought that I had just peed in my closet. After my brother and I left home, my parents converted our closets into what is now a bathroom that is shared by both bedrooms. Nice, waiting till we left home to think of that one! Growing up, we had one bathroom, and it was on the first floor. I opened the door to the little storage area under the eaves and gingerly lifted the loose floorboard, hoping to find something that I had hidden there years before. Apparently I had cleaned things out long ago or my father had discovered my secret hiding place. My stomach lurched, and then I reminded myself that I am 51 years old and my dad hasn’t grounded me in a very long time. Snooping through dresser drawers, I found boxes of jewelry that had belonged to my now deceased grandmothers. Picking up each piece, the vivid memories of them being worn had me in tears. The last thing I found was my puka shell necklace. My best friend and I each bought one in Ocean City Maryland in the summer of 1976, just before our senior year of high school. She committed suicide when we were 30 years old. I sat on the bed holding the necklace, thinking of the countless sleepovers we had, the secrets we shared and the midnight laughter that would wake the rest of my family. I put the necklace into my overnight bag and finally fell asleep.

I woke to the sound of morning rush hour traffic on the busy rural road. Slightly disoriented, eyes gritty from lack of sleep, I realized the sun was just barely rising. I almost felt as if I should hurry down the steps, shower, and run wet headed out of the door so I wouldn’t miss the school bus. Instead I padded down to the kitchen, only to find two elderly folks, one using a walker and the other looking to me for guidance. I poured a cup of coffee and headed out to the end of the driveway for the morning paper. Just as I walked back up onto the porch, the school bus drove by. I crossed my arms against the cold air, took a deep breath and walked back inside.

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All He Wants

The World is so blessed to have people like Guest Blogger, Lorie Sheffer, to write about things that matter. We can all use frequent reminders. Here’s Lorie’s reminder for us:

Who cares if the gravy is slightly lumpy or the pumpkin pie cracks in the center? It’s been a tough year. We suffered through the loss of dear friends and layoffs from jobs. The coup de grace was the sudden, unexpected illness of my father. On June 11, I found him barely able to stand, gasping for breath, the color of a pigeon. My first thought was, “Dad’s dying.” Once in the emergency room, it was soon discovered that he was going into septic shock; his kidneys and other organ systems were in the process of shutting down. My initial thought had been correct; Dad was dying.

One hundred and sixty days later, Thursday November 18, Dad came home. It took 5 surgeries, a month in ICU – unconscious and on a ventilator-, two kidney dialysis treatments, three months with an NG tube feeding him, two weeks in a rehabilitation hospital and over a month in a nursing home/rehabilitation facility. He doesn’t remember his 78^th birthday in July, when he was still experiencing ICU delirium. Thankfully, he is now mentally sharp and his prognosis is good. He is getting stronger every day.

My husband and I usually host a rather eclectic Thanksgiving at our home. We’re never sure who will show up, so we just cook tons of food, including both a roasted turkey and one that is ceremoniously deep-fried in the front yard. Anyone who wants to stop in and share the feast is welcome. This year, even though Dad could make the trip across town, I told my mother that we would make it easy for him. I will cook and serve the meal at their house. Mom worried that she has not had time to clean behind the furniture. I assured her “The Moving of the Sofa to Check for Dust Bunnies” is not a Thanksgiving tradition. We will still have our big crazy party at my house on Saturday, but Thursday will be for Dad. I can think of nothing in this world more appropriate than having him sit at the table, surrounded by his extremely thankful family. As my son recently said, “All Pop really wants in life is to have all of his family in a room at the same time.” All he wants in LIFE. What a special and meaningful Thanksgiving. I wish peace to those who were not as fortunate as we are, and hope to those who are still making the journey.

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They Know What You’re Thinking

Guest Blogger Lorie Sheffer:

“Our opinions become fixed at the point where we stop thinking.” – Ernest Renan

Do you ever change your mind or your opinion about something once you’ve learned new or different information? Or do you form an opinion and then only listen to information that reinforces the belief you already have? When it comes to your mind, is the door shut or is it open? Do you honestly look at ALL the facts, or do you rely on someone else to provide you with information that is intended to get you to share their own view? Perhaps it’s becoming easier to allow someone else to tell us what we think than it is for us to listen to the facts and then decide for ourselves. Maybe talk radio is becoming the intellectual equivalent of getting a meal at the drive thru window. It’s fast, it’s easy and it’s cheap.

I know folks who, no matter what evidence they are presented to the contrary, will not budge from their original stance. There’s something to be said for loyalty, but there is that line between being true to your convictions and just being bullheaded.

“Stubbornness does have its helpful features. You always know what you are going to be thinking tomorrow.” ~Glen Beaman

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