Lorie Sheffer – Page 31 – Disney Leadership Keynote Speaker

Choose Your Battles, By Lorie Sheffer, Guest Blogger

As I look ahead at the New Year, I can’t help but glance over my shoulder in an effort to see if I have learned anything. I’m not one of those people who can set large resolutions. I know me, and it’s not going to happen. What works for me are those small changes that honestly do make a difference in the long run; the attainable goals. Not that they are easy, mind you.

My goal for last year was to try to laugh in the face of stress. I have so many serious things in my life that if I sweat the small stuff I can easily become overwhelmed. I think it’s called Choosing Your Battles. Not only have I done well, I have also discovered that those previously stressful situations can now provide some much needed comic relief.

I love to cook, but I hate shopping for food. I’m not entirely sure the employees of my regular grocery store are thrilled when they see my car pulling into the lot, either. In November I had the Unfortunate Clam Chowder Incident. Who knew that those new pop top soup cans fly open if the can is accidentally dropped onto the floor from the top shelf? Clean-up in aisle 5! Then there was the Christmas Eve Shrimp Tragedy. In an effort to try to learn new things, I went through the self-check aisle. All was well until I got to the large party platter of steamed shrimp at the bottom of my cart. The lid wasn’t on tight enough. Or something. When a party platter starts to flip, well, there’s no recovering. There was a time when these incidents would have pushed me over the edge. But no more! Now I find them to be hilarious. I even had to laugh last summer when I fell out of my sandals into the parking lot during a downpour. Sure I was soaked and my knee swelled up like a cantaloupe, but really…. Getting angry wouldn’t have provided me with cat-like reflexes, nor would it have suddenly turned me into a less klutzy person. It turns out that laughter really IS the best medicine. Another surprising side benefit to laughing off your mishaps is that people around you will seem to become less stressed as well.

What it all boils down to is this: You can be stuck in an embarrassing or stressful situation and you can freak out about it, or you can try to laugh about it; your choice. But either way, the situation will remain the same. I choose to laugh. Life is too short to worry about a few spilled shrimp (or 5 pounds of them!) at the bottom of a shopping cart.

Adapting, By Guest Blogger Lorie Sheffer

Photo: Lorie Sheffer, Baltimore Museum of Industry

The holiday season afforded me the chance to visit with two very special members of my family. The first visit was with Aunt Ruth, who will turn 101 in a few weeks. My second visit was with Aunt Betty. She will celebrate her 90^th birthday in March.

Both of these amazing ladies live at home, and both are almost shockingly fit, mentally and physically. What I most wanted to try to see was if there was some common link the two of them shared. Being from different sides of my family I knew there was no genetic link, so I reasoned there had to be something they were doing that was contributing to their longevity.

A sense of humor was one of the first things that jumped out when I spoke to my aunts. They also both like to get out of the house and remain active. Granted, Ruth’s exercise is going to watch her daughter’s aquatics therapy, but still; at 100 years old, getting out of the house, into the car, into the pool area and back requires some maneuvering. She enjoys going out to dinner, too. Ruth was stunned when an anonymous person paid for her and her daughter’s dinner. “We must have looked pathetic, her with her cane and me with my walker”, she chuckled. Aunt Betty, being almost 10 years Ruth’s junior, still drives her car and attends quite a few social functions. Her arthritic knees seem to be the only thing that slows her down. As a retired registered nurse, she takes great pride in the fact that she keeps up with medical news and reads monthly newsletters from several institutions of higher learning. She has never lost the desire to learn and to remain interested.

Perhaps what stands out the most about both of them is their ability not only to adapt to change, but the fact that they almost seem to thrive on it. Instead of moaning about what they can no longer do, they almost brag about figuring out new ways to do things. For example, Aunt Betty told me that while she can’t carry her laundry basket down the basement steps to the washer and dryer, she has figured out a new way. She puts her laundry into a pillow case and tosses it down, then goes down holding onto the railing. When it’s done, she carries the basket up a step at a time, placing the basket onto the steps in front of her as she goes. Aunt Ruth, who is tiny and can’t reach into her kitchen cupboards without the now-forbidden step stool, has also found a solution to her problem. She no longer uses the cupboards, and instead keeps the dishes and cups she needs on the counter where she can easily reach them. Neither of the ladies seems to be concerned about what they can no longer do the old way, and instead seem pretty darned happy with their ingenuity.

I suppose what these women have taught me is that there really is a sort of evolution to aging, and those who learn to accept and adapt will thrive and be happier than those who get stuck and refuse to change. Recently, they were sitting in a waiting room, someone asked Ruth’s daughter, “Are you sisters?” Ruth said to me, “I know it hurt Phyllis’s feelings, but I LOVED it! And hey…. I feel great. I don’t feel a day over 85 and I must not look it, either!” Then she laughed and slapped her thigh.

Good Will To All, By Guest Blogger Lorie Sheffer

My grandson is a perfect example of why this country is called a melting pot. His genetic makeup includes Hispanic, German, Italian and Austrian. He’s got a Jewish branch of the family a Methodist branch and a Pentecostal branch. There are family members who are very conservative right wing, and those of us who are hard-core liberals. He seems, as most children do, blissfully unaware of any differences. He just loves his family and friends.

Last week I thought it would be nice for him to learn a bit more about his Jewish ancestors by celebrating Hanukkah. I have some memories of celebrating Hanukkah many years ago, in New York City. I also found that you can Google anything, including recipes for brisket! AOL has a radio station that plays a stream of Hanukkah songs. Ironically, the commercials were for Christmas deals at major retailers. I asked Carter if he had ever heard any of the songs (Adam Sandler’s “classic” doesn’t count!), and he said he had not. When I asked him if he’s sure he’s never heard them when he turns on the radio or TV or walks into a store any day between Halloween and New Year’s Day, a look of understanding showed on his face.

When I sat the hot, crispy latkes on the table Carter, true to his Puerto Rican lineage, asked for the Goya hot sauce. He also hot sauced the brisket. He decided that he loves Hannukah food, with a slight Hispanic flavor.

We discussed how people who celebrate differently do not covet our holidays, nor do they wish to stop our celebrations. They have their own beliefs and their own traditions, which they hold as dear to them as we do ours. Most of all, we talked about the common link. That is the spirit of this season. My daughter invited an old friend of hers, who is Jewish. He gave his perspective of what it was like to grow up in a predominantly Christian area. Very different than when I went to New York and as someone who was raised in a Christian home, found myself to be the minority. Mostly I found that the beauty of another religion fascinated me. I saw much of the same of what I experienced at home, which was family and friends coming together. They didn’t long for a Christmas tree any more than my family wished to be spinning dreidels. This should be a time when we put aside our differences and join in the wish for peace on Earth and goodwill to all. No matter how we choose to say it or what language we are speaking, all that matters is that we somehow find the willingness to be kind and respectful to one another.

Mary Linda Night, By Guest Blogger Lorie Sheffer

Mary Linda circa 1948 (photo: Lorie Sheffer collection)

This is the time of year when we celebrate traditions. Some of us may have lavish Christmas celebrations, including parties, family gatherings and religious services. Others of us may spend the season more quietly, with understated observance. There are also people who celebrate non-Christian holidays, while others don’t celebrate at all. Even with all the variations of the season, it’s hard to find anyone who doesn’t have some type of traditional way to spend time during the month of December.

My family started a favorite tradition over ten years ago. We would always set aside a night between Christmas and New Year’s for a special night of celebration. We would have dinner, the menu running the culinary gamut from Italian to Chinese. We’d have the always anticipated gift exchange. This was our special not-on-actual-Christmas-Eve Christmas, to be celebrated when and how we chose, with one of our very favorite relatives. Her eccentricity always made things memorable. There was the year of Y2K, when she poked fun at the Chicken Littles of the world. I got a space blanket, a basket of tinned meats and bottled water, candles and a wind up flashlight, as well as a copy of the book “How to Survive Anything, Anywhere”. There was the year of the stress-relief gifts, the year of the bath gifts, the year of the vanilla themed gifts. The gifts, always a theme, were purchased on the streets of Manhattan and toted by subway, taxi and a four hour bus ride to our home. They were wrapped with care, often with hand made decorations, usually packed into recycled frozen soft pretzel or Saltine boxes.

Last year my son and his wife had to head back to their home early to avoid the forecasted snowstorm. While I missed having those extra days with them, it made the fact that this would be the first year we would not be sharing our special Not on Actual Christmas night slightly more bearable. This year, his hospital night shift will once again mean that our Christmas week is going to be way off schedule. Still, I know that we would have somehow made our night happen. She would have extended her stay to make sure of it. But now there is a huge empty space to fill.

Every family has traditions. Sometimes we have to change them. This year, I know that my family will be thinking back to those special celebrations. It’s still too soon to think back on them and smile. Instead, I decided to fill that night with something totally different. It can never be the same, and trying to tweak it into something similar wouldn’t work at all. Instead, I have decided to celebrate the first night of Hanukkah. It will be a way to teach my grandson about part of his family tree. It will be a toned down, yet celebratory night; new foods, new music, new friends. Yet while I was shopping in preparation, I could almost hear her voice. “Hey! Don’t forget the dreidles! I know a place over on Second St that carries really nice ones! Geeze….. you have a menorah, right?” It will be different, and yet it will be the same.

M.I.L., By Guest Blogger Lorie Sheffer

Nothing in this world, save for snakes on a plane, will set some of us into a fit of anxiety more than these words: “Your mother in law is coming to visit.”

Mothers in law have long provided laughs for sitcoms, and if they aren’t YOUR mother in law, their antics and unfiltered opinions can be hilarious. From Mrs. McGillicuddy’s constant references to her daughter Lucy Ricardo’s husband “Mickey Richardson”, to the passive aggressive behavior of Raymond’s mother Marie Barone, to Modern Family’s modern day mother in law DeDe Prichett, mothers in law are a staple of family comedy.

Personally, I feel that if there were a contest for the most hilariously inappropriate mother in law, mine would win hands down. At the time, she drove me batty. Now that she is gone I find that I sort of miss her. Some of her greatest hits: Telling me that my 4-year old son had gotten chicken pox from his sister because I didn’t feed him enough green vegetables. Informing me that she had never gotten over the fact that my husband hadn’t married his high school sweetheart, who was “like a daughter’ to her. Sending gifts to her out of state relatives and signing my husband and my names, after I had already sent them gifts. She wanted to be sure they got things they REALLY wanted. And, after my husband had specifically requested me to make his favorite meal for him, she told me “Gary doesn’t even like that. Why don’t you ever make him something he can eat?”

When my son got married, my number one priority was to make sure that his wife and I got along. Lucky for me, it’s not that hard. I very honestly think she is the best thing that ever happened to him. My son also adores his mother in law, and I am happy that he has her as his other mother. I think the main thing that determines a mother in law/daughter in law relationship is a pretty simple rule. As a mother, you need to realize that your son’s wife is first in his life. She is not your competition. She is not the other woman. If you can understand and respect that, everything else will fall into place. So many times I hear women say they don’t like their mother in law because she is intrusive and won’t cut the apron strings. And yet these women act the same way towards their daughters in law.

A few years ago, I met a young woman from the U.K. She was telling me how much she missed her mother. She said something that I will never forget. She told me that her mom confided something to her. Mum said. “Of my three daughters in law, I adore one, I tolerate one and I can barely stand to be in the same room with one.” My friend was stunned, and said that nobody would ever guess that Mum didn’t love all three of her son’s wives equally. “Well,” Mum replied, “I love your three BROTHERS equally, and that is why nobody will ever know which wife I love and whose name makes me cringe when I hear it. And I’ll never tell you who’s who, either.” All I could think of was how much love that mother had for her sons.