Misery loves company, by guest blogger Lorie Sheffer

life's roadblocks
life's roadblocks and detours (photo: Lorie Sheffer, York, PA)

I can’t stand this weather. The grass is growing too fast and the weeds are out of control. I’d hire somebody to come and take care of the yard, but you just can’t get anyone to do a decent job these days, and they charge way too much anyway. I don’t go outside because my stupid neighbor is always out there grilling stuff, and between the smoke blowing onto my patio and the disgusting smell of whatever it is he’s grilling, it makes me sick to my stomach. I’d come in and watch TV, but there’s nothing on that’s worth watching.

How much of that kind of negativity can you listen to before you want to run screaming from whoever is ranting? It’s draining to be around negative people, and yet we all know at least one. I’m not talking about the occasional foul mood that can strike even the most cheerful among us, I’m talking about those people who can never seem to find much to be happy about or grateful for; the energy sponges in our lives.

The number one thing to remember is, the minute we start to complain about them, we have become one of them. Tempting as it may be for us to try to change them, it ain’t gonna happen. Allowing ourselves to be sucked into the drama will only fan the flames. We need to realize that we can’t “fix” people, especially those who do not think they are broken. The best way to react to these Debbie Downers is not to react at all. Most importantly we need to realize that anything rude or insensitive they may say to us or about us is not a reflection of us, but a reflection of their own inner misery. We can’t control the thoughts or the behavior of others; we can only control how we respond to them.

Navigation, by guest blogger Lorie Sheffer

springtime lilacs
Springtime Lilacs (photo: Lorie Sheffer)

I’m convinced that midlife is one of the most stressful times we will ever navigate. I hear it from my friends, see it on their facebook posts, and watch it happening around me. Not only do we have our own changing issues to deal with, but also some of us have children still at home or we are adjusting to an empty house if they have flown the coup. Many of us have aging parents, which more often than not require more of our time and can be emotionally draining as well. It can easily become overwhelming, even for the alphas among us.

There was a morning this week when I was feeling the pressure more than usual. I felt like there was no end in sight for the enormity of everything for which I am expected to have the solution. I carried my mug of coffee to the end of my driveway, clad in what are admittedly ugly pajamas and well-worn slippers. My hair looked like I had been through a wind tunnel, and the circles under my eyes and puffiness of my face gave away the fact that I had not slept very well. When I bent to get the paper off of the sidewalk my back screamed in protest. The cherry on the sundae was that the paper was wet from an early morning shower. As I shuffled back to the house, a sudden breeze carried an unmistakable smell to my sniffling nose. It was the smell of lilacs. The bush at the side of my driveway had begun to bloom, and the buds were starting to open and release their scent.

There is nothing that smells like spring more than lilacs. I noticed that this bush, which I had planted the summer after my husband’s stroke, was now tall and full after having grown for more than 15 years. I planted it and many other flowers, shrubs and trees that summer. Digging in the dirt was a way for me to feel connected; it’s easy to take on that unmoored feeling when we’ve suddenly been thrust into the role of caregiver. Now this gorgeous flowering bush was grounding me again. I breathed in the scent and started to cry. What a release it was to smell something so wonderful and to have that little moment of beauty. The ocean is still my ultimate soul soother, but the nearest beach is a 4-hour drive from me. No matter where we live, there are sights that can sooth us and recharge us. Maybe that old saying about not being able to see the forest for the trees, or the one about taking time to stop and smell the roses, actually does have a valuable message for us. If we just stop and take time to look, there are things all around us that can give us a moment of peace. They may not be the dream vacation that we need, but even small moments of calm can see us through till the seas are a bit less rough and the navigation is not so challenging. We cannot control the direction of the wind, but we CAN adjust our sails.

WWFD, by guest blogger Lorie Sheffer

pet therapy
Cats and physical therapy. Photo: Lorie Sheffer

Last week my husband and I faced the day every pet owner dreads. After consulting with the veterinarian and going over lab results, we made the decision to euthanize our elderly cat. Even though we knew it was the best decision for her, sparing her what would have amounted to few weeks of pain and suffering, it was still hard to sign those final papers. She was the last of the original 4 Persian show cats we had adopted after their breeder retired them from being shown. The maintenance for that breed of cat is something you cannot imagine until you bring one into your family. Although I can’t sat I will miss the work involved, I miss my cats. They were my husband’s physical therapy companions. They had witnessed and been part of over a decade of life in our home.

Since Krista died last week, I have heard some of the usual comments concerning pets. “They love us unconditionally.” “They always greet us when we come home, and they are happy to see us no matter what mood we’re in.” “My dog/cat doesn’t care if I gain weight or if I lose my hair or if I don’t have makeup on or if I wear something really stupid. They love me anyway.” “When I feel sad, my pet will instinctively stay by my side and comfort me.” “They make me feel better without having the ability so say a word.”

After hearing all of the well known statements about how our cats and/or dogs love us unconditionally and comfort us without question, it occurred to me: Isn’t that they way we should treat one another? Maybe we can learn a lesson in how to treat our loved ones simply by watching our pets.

Give it up, by guest blogger Lorie Sheffer

Lorie Sheffer
Give it up (photo: Lorie Sheffer, York, PA)

Sometimes we have to be willing to step back and allow someone else to shoulder the burden. In order to do so, we must accept that they may not do things exactly the same way we would do them. This doesn’t make it wrong, it just means things may be done differently. If we want to be relieved of some of the stress and worry in our lives, we have got to learn how to turn over our troubles to someone else.

A friend of mine wonders why her adult daughter is so reluctant to help her. When her daughter does offer to help, the criticism of how she is doing things always stops her in her tracks. Yet my friend wants things done “the right way”, and cannot seem to give up control. This past week I had a difficult situation to deal with. Already trying to manage more stress then I can handle, I asked my husband to please take this one for me, which he agreed to do. People who are aware of the situation started to question me as to whether I felt he was doing what I wanted, and how I wanted it to be done. This amazed me; when you ask someone to handle a situation for you that you clearly don’t want to be dealing with, you need to step back and allow him or her to do it their way. If you micromanage every move someone makes when they are doing a favor that you asked of them, don’t be surprised if the next time you ask, the answer is “no”.

There are times when all of us need to ask someone else to step in and help us carry the load. Knowing when you need help is not a sign of a weak person; it is a sign of strength; of knowing your limits and having enough self-confidence to admit when you need assistance.

Next Blog

Something old, something new… by guest blogger Lorie Sheffer

old things
something old, something new (photo: Lorie Sheffer)

Whenever I mention my elderly relatives, someone will ask me if I have ever picked up on secrets to their amazing longevity. I had a great uncle who was very overweight and smoked and drank in excess, yet lived to be well into his nineties. My 101-year-old great aunt is the deadly apple shape, which is supposedly the telltale clue to early death. My aunt, who turned 90 today and who looks amazing for her age, is the most health conscious of the group. She can usually be found at a fast food restaurant. While much of their astounding fortune at playing health roulette was probably just genetics taking over for their horrible habits, I refuse to play that game. While I am far from being a gym rat, and I very likely will never be found in the petite department shopping for my clothing, I have paid close attention to something they have all done right. They love trying new things.

When we think of a typical old fogy, we think of someone who is grouchy, stubborn and set and in their ways. One way to keep our brains sharp and our outlook young is to try new things. So what if we make a total fool of ourselves! It’s not like we haven’t survived looking stupid in the past. In recent years I’ve added things to my “new” list; refinishing old furniture, photography, yoga, trying recipes using ingredients I’ve never used or heard of before, and writing this weekly guest blog post for a childhood friend. What’s the worst that can happen? Something I was going to take to the curb anyway has to be taken to the curb because I mess it up; a photograph is blurry or doesn’t look quite right; I realize I’m not as flexible as I used to be; I cook something and don’t like the way it tastes; I write something that stinks. So what? Really, that’s what not succeeding at something new boils down to: So what? Unless skydiving is on your short list of new things to try, the risk of failure pales in comparison to the thrill of doing something new or outside of your comfort zone. Trying new things seems to be what has kept some very interesting old folks I know from becoming bored with life. It has kept them excited about the prospect of living another day.