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As of today, I have read 64 books in 2023. That is more than I have read in the past 3 years COMBINED (thanks to my new job and some life changes). While I have given over 20 five-star ratings and reviews, there are 10 books that are still following me around and dancing in my soul. I think about the characters or the story or the emotions they evoked and THAT is why I love to read. These 10 books have all taken up residence in my heart for 2023:
If you want to feel sad or reflective:
I hope these recommendations have come to you at the exact time you needed them. Please comment below if you have read any of these! I also review books regularly on TikTok and would love to connect with you there!
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Mom. Mama. Pinky. Jan. Janice. Dear. Sis. She will answer to any of these, but I believe "Pinky" is her favorite beckon. That's what her 3 grandsons call her. She didn't become a grandmother until she was 58 after believing it may not ever happen for her. Accounting. Bookkeeping. Payroll. Spreadsheets. Analysis. She has done that for work and now as a retired wife and home finance piddler, trying to spread retirement funds in all the right directions. She didn't finish her bachelor's degree until she was 48. That's perseverance and determination. And sacrifice. Don't think I didn't see you, Mom. Cook. Grocery shopper. Queen of the kitchen. Not only did she work, she cooked. She had homemade meals on the table for us every night (that we were home with all of our extracurriculars). And we ate together. At the table. With the TV off. You taught me to cook, Mom. No set lessons. Just daily presence. Daily consistency. I cook because of you, your mother, and your aunts. It dripped down into me, and I thank you. Culture. Music. Theatre. Movies. Travel. Books. I credit both Mom and Dad for this, but I think mom's love for the arts fueled my own. Mom wasn't a musician or an artist. She didn't write for fun like I do today. Children weren't always encouraged to pursue creativity in the 1950's and 1960's, so she made sure that we could do so. She is now sprinkling this love into my firstborn, and he knows it. They are magnets for one another, and I love to see their attraction. Thank you, Mom. Everybody deserves at least one magnet. Physical touch. Back scratches. Hands held. Hugs. Cuddles. Loving tenderness. I am a nurse because of you. I am realizing this more and more every day as I straddle launching children and aging parents. I learned to touch and care from you. One of my boys recently asked me "how did you know how to do that mom?" when he saw me soothing a baby and keeping her entertained. I learned it from you. I watched you and I received love from you. Thank you for giving me softness. I'm hard and sharp in so many ways. I need that cushion you have given me. Peace. Restraint. Calm. I've seen you mad, but only when necessary. Mostly I see restraint and thought. Intentional words and actions. Maturity. The tornado inside of me is calmed by your grounding, and for that I am forever grateful. I got my feistiness from your mother, and I see your sensibility in my youngest. Thank you for giving me a mirror of you in him. He will always remind me of you in his tenderness. Your childhood was very different from mine. But God knew I would need someone to talk to about families that may look different. My adulthood has been very different from yours. But God knew you might be able to heal some from witnessing adults making decisions that are really hard and living through plans that don't always work out. That's what I want to believe, Mom. That we have taught each other. Helped each other grow. You're my best friend, Mom. And I see you. I don't believe in perfect. I see YOU. And you see ME. All the cracks. And we still choose each other. Thank you for loving me through all of it. We are not done yet. And I can't wait for the rest. I don't know what your relationship is like with your mother. I don't know if your mom is alive or if she is already gone. I can't fix whatever may have happened with you and your mother. I can only share my truth and in this truth, I know that I am extremely lucky and blessed to have the mom I have and the relationship we have. Godspeed. I love Christmas. I know for some the holidays are hard. Very hard. And as I get older, they are harder for me too. But I still have that child-like wonder and love for the holiday season. And I hope by traveling this list with me, you'll find a little whimsy inside your soul too.
Laundry. Dishes. Kids' practices and rehearsals. Groceries. Oh, and don't forget the HOA. Where is the romance, right? Forget romance, where is the deeper connection? When is the last time he asked me about my dreams or my fears? Umm, when is the last time I asked him about anything other than a scheduling conflict or a honey-do checklist. When is the last time we touched each other out of sheer desire and not some scheduled meeting of 2 busy adults? When is the last time we laughed or cried together? Am I the only one who feels alone more than I ever thought I would as a married person? Truth is, NO. I am not alone in feeling alone! I know this based on the countless conversations I have had with my patients over the years. Marital disconnection literally sends people into their primary care provider's office with symptoms of depression, fatigue, anxiety, and sometimes even physical symptoms (nausea, rapid heart rate, the list goes on). You know how our kids nag us on weekends "mom, mom, mom- watch me do this. Look at this. I want to show you this." Well, the truth is that we want the same thing from our spouse and they want it from us. We just don't know how to express that need. So we pout. We give the silent treatment. We build an invisible wall to avoid rejection. And it is killing us. So How DO We Fix It? One exercise my husband and I use is the FANOS method for couples communication. It only takes a few minutes each day and it has been paramount in improving our daily conversations and overall understanding of each other. The way it works is that one partner goes through their FANOS while the other listens and does not comment. No fixing or feedback. Just active listening. Then it's the other partner's turn. There is a 24 hour rule on comments. Very important to honor the 24 hour rule. The acronym is as follows:
Feelings: use an emotion word and tell your partner how you are feeling. Give a brief synopsis as to why you are feeling that way. Acknowledgements: use this time to thank your partner for something he or she has done or is doing. This can be something you appreciate about them or an actual task. Needs: Let your partner know something you need from them. THIS ONE is the one the other partner often wants to give feedback on or fix, BUT no commentary for 24 hours. Ownership: Use this time to admit your screwups. Take ownership for that snarky comment or huffy attitude. This one has been so good for us! Struggles / sobriety: Let your partner know about something you are working on either for yourself or in the relationship. This is so good for accountability and vulnerability in the relationship. Quick caveat: the Needs section is the stickiest one for us. We have found that we don't want to list the same need over and over and make the other partner feel inadequate, so sometimes we list a need outside of the relationship. That may not be the proper way to FANOS, but it has worked for us and kept some pressure off. I hope this technique gives you a starting point for your relationship to head towards communication and understanding. Feeling seen and heard is imperative for a relationship's success. Not every day is going to be perfect. There WILL be bumps in the road. But having a partner that you trust to show up for you and at least TRY to hold space for you as you process difficult emotions is what matters most. Godspeed. A nurse's heart is broken and whole at the same time She mends, she soothes, she uplifts, and she primes She is a buffer, a translator, a fetcher, and a bridge Has anyone ever asked about her deepest wish? A nurse's mind is sharp and fast She intakes and outputs while completing her tasks She stores all the info and processes all the scene Has anyone ever asked about her hopes or dreams? A nurse's shoulders are steadfast and strong She carries your weight, she hums to your song She catches the emotions of all in her path From the doctors, to the families, to the new undergrad A nurse's feet are swift and on demand She will get it, she will do it, she will continue to stand They may ache, they may swell, they may beg for relief But she knows how many benefit from the work of her feat A nurse's back is used all day long By the weak, by the broken, by the scared and alone She can do it, she will help you, she will lift all she can Have you ever thought to ask her if she needed a friend? A nurse's hands are skilled and attuned They can hold you and heal you and clean up your wounds They don't waiver, they don't hesitate, they are always there She swells when she realizes all who have gained from their care A nurse's heart is broken and whole at the same time If you love a nurse, or you are a nurse, know that we are our own kind. We take love and transport it from our insides to yours. We take healing. We take knowledge. And we deliver unforced. Please share this with the nurses in your life. I see her. I am her. Our work matters. Godspeed. follow my nursing content on TikTok
photo credit: Naassom Azevedo I remember being 20 years old. Planning a wedding. Looking at houses like a 16 year old looks at cars. Aren’t we always looking for, searching for, planning for that next thing? After the wedding and the house came the baby fever a few years later. All the nursery furniture and books of baby names. Once the kids are born we start planning for school. Backpacks and school supplies. We spend the next decade or so driving everyone to everything and wondering when it will be our turn again. Even though these are the very dreams we prayed for and clung to for so long. Next we plan their launch. College visits or military recruiters. Sheets for twin beds and $10 dorm skillets. The excitement builds and then evaporates with one set of taillights or one giant aircraft in the distance. We wait. We wonder. We hear from them now on their terms and we count the weeks between visits. And we realize one Wednesday morning while we sip our coffee and type in the glow of the Christmas tree that now they’re us. Now THEY are 20 years old. We are no longer even a daily thought to them because they are planning that wedding and looking at that house with the very same vigor we did so many years ago. And they know everything just like we did. To that we just smile and think “so that’s why my parents never really said much and just watched it all unfold.” So what do we do now? See we have been to therapy and had all these intense life lessons since we were 20. We know so much. Alas we really know so little. We control so very little (only our own thoughts and actions). We could say now we are planning for grandchildren but we have also stopped all the cookie cutter “this comes next” because we have been on the very train that derailed those best laid plans. So I just revel in the warmth of my coffee mug in my hands. Stare at the lights on my tree. Remember the excitement of buying my very first house. Give thanks for the bumps and bruises I have endured. And look forward to making my Mammaw’s dressing from scratch tonight like she and my mother have done since the 1940’s. Mammaw was 20 years old. Mama was 20 years old. I was 20 years old. Thank you Lord for all the 20-year-olds, the hopes and dreams, the excitement of building a life. May we never forget that feeling. Godspeed. Southland in the Springtime- that's a song by the Indigo Girls in case you didn't know- check it out 🎶
Now I challenge you. Think of what you love about spring. Sit outside. Write it down or note it in your head. And give thanks. On our first day and our last day, we are all the same. Godspeed. Friends, Family, and Coworkers can all form extremely close bonds. Statistics show that we spend more hours at work with coworkers than with our own family members. If we are lucky, we find certain individuals that vibe with us. We may share common interests or common talents. We may have a similar sense of humor or taste in music. It's kismet and it's beautiful when that happens. But years pass. Life marches on and with that comes love, loss, and change. Some of us grow and some of us remain stagnant. Some minds open and some minds close. I'm sure you have felt it. You're having lunch with someone from one of those 3 groups (family, friend, or coworker), and you run out of things to say. Your common interests and similar values seem further apart. In the worst cases, this person sitting across from you is your spouse or partner. Perhaps you are the one who is growing or perhaps you are the one stuck in your ways. Invariably, one of you is going to be growing in a different direction than the other person. Just because you grow in different directions doesn't mean you have to grow apart. It can mean that, however, if you are not careful. Having worked in healthcare for decades, I have learned how important it is to meet people where they are. If you love someone, you can meet them where they are without expecting or pushing them to change. My oldest, bestest friend once commented "it takes all kinds." It wasn't a grand statement or momentous event when those words tumbled out of her mouth. I must have said something judgy, and she course-corrected me. How lovely would it be if we embraced each day and each relationship with that same framework? I cannot recall the moment in which she said those words, but I have never forgotten them. IT TAKES ALL KINDS. How boring and monotonous would life be if we were all the same? As polarized as our country has been of late, imagine us all agreeing on everything? Where would the passion lie? What would spark change? What would we learn? So today, as I begin another day of onboarding for my new day job,
I sit with a smile on my face and love in my heart. I have learned the most from those that challenged me. I have grown the most being surrounded by those that questioned me. I have loved the most by offering compassion and empathy to those that may not even like me. The next time you catch yourself thinking "we are just too different. I've changed (or she's / he's changed)." Pause. Take a deep breath. Silently name all the reasons you loved them initially and why you still care for them today. Who are you to say you are too different? What can you learn from them? What can they teach you about yourself? It takes all kinds. Godspeed. 💜💚💜 Have you ever been picked last for a team or a project? Have you ever been sitting at the END of a table and no one really acknowledged your presence during the lively, laugh-out-loud dinner that everyone else seemed to be having? Have you ever been cut off during a conversation when someone "cooler or prettier or funnier or more magnetic" stepped into the mix? What if you vote a certain way but you're surrounded by others who vote differently? You want them to love you for you, but are you having to hide part of yourself in order to belong? What if you have a different opinion but keep it to yourself in fear of others' reactions? What if you don't even feel like you belong in your own home? Isn't home supposed to be your safe space?
So, again, I think we have all experienced this feeling. Disconnected. Cast out. Overlooked. Unwanted. Unnecessary. Unimportant. Small. Invisible. Rejected. Source: Brene Brown's Atlas of the Heart Since we all know we can't control the thoughts or actions of others, let's focus on what WE can do the next time we feel this way. Here are 10 ways you can (and I do these myself) try to reach the feeling of BELONGING again:
Now let us review. Somebody somewhere made you feel left out, unwanted, or overlooked. You start to list all the reasons you are just that: unwanted and overlooked. Then you REMEMBER these tips to get back to belonging and you pull at least one of them out. Consider it a secret weapon. Use it. Allow yourself to feel both ways - both the ickiness of unbelonging and the comfort of true connection once you have found your way back. Teach someone else you love how to do this the next time they call you searching for validation. And hey. Just so you know, I would pick you. Godspeed. How are you? Good, how are you? Fine, today was busy. Yeah, me too. Ready for some downtime. Did you go by the drugstore? I did (even though he could have). Did you run the dishwasher? I did (even though she could have). What's going on this weekend? A Saturday-Sunday tournament and I really need to get some of my charts done. (He didn't ask if I wanted to do anything as a couple. I guess he doesn't care). (She is always working- she never even mentioned anything I might want or need). Okay- sounds good. Sound familiar? We both have needs, but we are not making them known. We both have resentment, but we speak like polite coworkers. The conversations are transactional and not RELATIONAL. We are co-parenting and room-mating - but where is the love? Unfortunately, as the years passed and the kids got older, we seemed to have fewer transactional conversations. Homework wasn't AS MUCH of a chore. Snacks were often handled by the kids independently. Routines were established and roles were pretty defined (though unspoken) in the home. In ways, this meant less bickering and smoother mornings and evenings, but were we connected? OR were we just 2 lonely adults passing in the hallway - each longing for a real connection but not knowing where to start? We have both been married before, so we both know the pain of divorce. We vowed to make this marriage work, but was it working? Was it tolerable or was it phenomenal? I have been going to THE BEST counselor on the planet for about 18 months now, and I asked her for a few suggestions. Regardless of each person's love language, she made clear that time and non-sexual touch are both very necessary for meaningful connection. Since I work days and my husband works nights, we don't have a TON of time together - and very rarely is it without children. We both commute so that takes away even more of our precious time. The kids are busy year-round it seems, so where was I supposed to carve out both TIME and TOUCH? I decided that we needed ONE HOUR per day to talk, sit close to each other, and just be together. I named it the POWER HOUR and I told the kids this was Mom and Dad's time together and it should not be interrupted unless there is an emergency. They heard "screen time" and were all for it. I decided kids' screen time is worth the investment in our marriage. I claimed 7-8 pm to be our ONE HOUR per day to sit on the couch together - touching!- to watch TV, chat, whatever. I am not gonna lie, 9 times out of 10 my feet and legs are in his lap and he's using my massage gun on my calves while I scratch his non-massage-gun-holding arm and hand. He likes scratches, I like massages. The point is, though, that we are touching and there is no pressure surrounding the touch. All adults everywhere know what I mean by that. He has to leave for work by 8 pm, so once he leaves I call the kids back into the living room and we finish out our family time before bed. If he's off that night then we may continue past 8 pm. The rules are simple: he needs to be showered and ready for work by 7 not 8 so I can have that hour with him. I need to ignore work and personal messages during that precious hour so that I can give him my undivided attention. Sometimes there is a late practice or rehearsal and our POWER HOUR is skipped or delayed, but it is a daily priority now. We both look forward to that time together, and the kids are still alive. It is so much easier to hash out a BIG issue when you are sitting next to your spouse touching them instead of over the phone or (worse) text. If you are both relaxed and physically touching each other, it is harder to become defensive or to go into attack mode. A quick squeeze of the arm or hand can reassure your partner that you are, in fact, on the same team. Close eye contact can remind your spouse that you love them and that you each have the same end goals. You may read this and be thanking the heavens that you've never felt disconnected from your spouse. Having worked with married patients for years, I would venture to guess you'd be in the minority. I know most of us have felt like our marriages have become mundane or on auto-pilot at various times. It doesn't necessarily take a marriage retreat or some crazy new "trick" to get your marriage back on track. For us, it just took a shared couch, one hour per day, and our hands. It took putting the phone down. It took managing our time to preserve that one hour per day. It took biting our tongues when we wanted to be snappy and waiting until we were together to have that hard conversation.
My life isn't perfect nor is my marriage. My house isn't perfect. My kids are not perfect. I am far from perfect. But, I am trying. He is trying. We are trying. Effort is attractive and kindness matters. Godspeed. During the Summer of 2021, we took our rising 6th and 4th grader to Alabama Adventure Amusement Park in Birmingham, AL. We had watched a few YouTube reviews of the park and read what precautions they were taking for the pandemic. Since I am immunocompromised, we decided to rent a cabana for the entire day just for a little extra precaution. The price for the cabana was TOTALLY worth the money! We plan to go back and rent one again!
My story is different than most step-moms. Almost seven when I met him he already had a mom. So I did what thought a step-mom would do. I had no child of my own. Lord knows I did not have a clue how to parent this sweet boy who slept down the hall every other week for a week. Thus we stumbled; there were falls. Those early years of homework and karate class. Parent-teacher conferences where I was often asked if I was his mom, since I was the only one who seemed tuned in who emailed and would come to all his events, I was all in. Meanwhile I had my babies 20 months apart, back to back. Boys upon boys, our schedules were packed. Those years of one on the hip and one in the belly and one hitting puberty. I wish THIS wiser me could tell THAT younger me that it would all work out one way or another; but his daddy and I we fought over and over. I saw coddling. He saw support. I saw side-taking. He saw retort. Step-son soon lived with us full-time and that was that. I was really his mom. She stopped putting on the act. So I again tried to treat all 3 the same "we have rules in this house" "If you did it, take the blame." But Daddy (to me) just couldn't allow his oldest who had been hurt to be kept in tow. Maybe by him, but never by me. Maybe on a Tuesday, but never consistently. So the marital battle of blended families began. It wasn't "yours, mine, and ours" it was "Me & The Little Two versus Them." And it divided us, collided us, excised us from the family that I had prayed for and dreamed of and waited for... But I didn't know how to fix it, The divide between the 5 of us. I was "always too hard on him," I needed to "chill out and stop caring so much." This passionate mama doesn't know how to do that. I see my children and I want them to try and to do their best. Thus the battle continued. There were wounds. There were scars. Being a full-time step-parent has left its mark. On our marriage. On my spirit. On my step-son, I'm sure. The war still continues as we are almost 2 years in to him being an adult and out of the house. I have certain expectations. I require a text or call now and then. I wish I could tell you it's easy or fun. Maybe for some folks it is, but not for us. Trying to glue us back together has been the hardest thing I have EVER done. But we keep on trying Keep on fighting Is it Fighting or is it Trying? The world keeps spinning The time keeps ticking The years seem shorter The road can seem colder... but sometimes on a Saturday when I watch my children smile and play, I remember that it's worth it and HE is worth it and WE are worth it. I sigh and sleep the hurt away. So if you love someone you didn't make You see their soul, and you feel their ache, Remember that they know the truth And love is really all they need from you. Keep loving. Love heals. If you love someone you didn't make, I see you. You are seen. And you matter. He sat down, head in hands, downward glance She looked up, tears in eyes, uneven stance I walked in, low on sleep, high on caffeine They walked by, on the street, young love, just teens He stood up, paper in hand, PowerPoint prepared She fell down, learning to walk, not nervous, not scared I walked in again, ready to listen, ready to care Do I absorb it, do I deflect it... do I share? The first one has a heavy load, family stuff, he's overwhelmed The second one feels trapped, but she's 83, where would she go? The third one is me, with my own load and I'm trying to figure it out Do I carry their burdens or give them back? I was never told... The fourth one is the big boss and the fifth one was once us While the overwhelmed man and the trapped senior unfurl It's good to remember that someone somewhere is in charge and someone somewhere is just a happy little girl The teens are just teens and I remember how that used to feel The butterflies, the headrush, the lovesongs, the thrill While I dance between empathy and boundary and pharmacy Someone somewhere is getting married or at a funeral or in the hospital nursery And so I sit here replaying today's events and my children's faces and my own dreams Do I let the man's troubles and the woman's sorrow fall off of me? Am I a sponge? A shield? Sand through a sieve? Where do I put it? How do I move it? What do I need? Dear Therapist once asked me "how do you feel? what are you feeling?" and I just stared. I ask that question, Madame. How do you dare! She brought out the preschool book and reminded me the names: anger, sadness, anxious, scared, and my favorite- SHAME! So I ask you, my brothers, my sisters, my friends Where do we put it? How do we move it? Where does it end? We are connected. Are we a puzzle? Passing ships on the same sea? I am you and you are me and we are thee. What is the answer? I need the code. I need the key. I will take today. You take tomorrow. Let's give her next week. He can do the dark nights. They can do the long fights. Let's share the joy and spread out the misery. Next time you see him. Next time you see her. Next time you see me. Remember the pleasantries are just a mask atop the real things. The real beauty of the patient-provider relationship is the back and forth. Never stop sharing with us. It's why we got into medicine. But if you love us or if you live with us and we are quiet or distant... We are simply trying to figure out where to put it. Godspeed. I recently finished The Four Winds by Kristin Hannah. As I listen to books on my commute, I often pause the recording when I hear a lovely or heart-wrenching quote and voice text it into my iPhone notes. With The Four Winds, I captured 11 quotes. One that has settled into me is this:
"You're wearing your worried face"
said the daughter to her mother. "It's my love face" said the mother to her daughter.
*** I chose mother and daughter instead of character names for context
As I reflect upon ALL THE THINGS (#overanalyzersunite), I cannot get those words out of my head. I am embarrassed (or not?) to tell you the number of times one of my 3 boys has asked "are you okay mom? Your face looks funny like you're mad at me or worried." All the while, I'm thinking "I am cooking supper, I have just folded a million tiny boxer briefs, I signed your agenda, AND I am making a conscious effort to smile ever so slightly." I realize as I pass the hall mirror that my forced smile is only on the bottom half of my face and that the top half is riddled with the heavy and the unknown that I am carrying that day. In my previous post on motherhood, I mention that I sing my children awake. It is quirky and I don't know how it started, but it is ritual in this house. If ever a morning passes without music in the house, the boys know "mommy ain't right." (sidebar: the writer in me abhors "ain't" while the Kentucky in me knows it infers just another level of wrong that the word "not" misses). Laugh if you agree. As my boys get older, and as my therapy bill reaches the thousands of dollars, I am learning that pretending everything is okay:
With boys ages 19, 11, and 9, my Worried / Love Face has rested above my shoulders on so many different days and in so many different ways.
So what next? Is there a moral to this story? I think of my own Mama and both my grandmothers. I remember seeing their Worried / Love faces too and not knowing what they meant. I remember telling both grandmothers goodbye when they BOTH knew they were dying from lung cancer, one as a spitfire 60 year old and the other as a content great-grandmother in her 80s. Even if you are not a mother as you read these words, you have or had a mother. She may be a great mother, or she may be one of the worst. She may not be here to show you her Worried / Love face anymore, and for that my heart aches for you.
I will leave you with this. Another The Four Winds quote.
"Believe me Elsa, this little girl (or boy) will love you as no one ever has and make you crazy and try your soul. Often. And all at the same time." You either have a little girl or boy or you were a little girl or boy. If you have seen any parent figure's Worried Face, then just KNOW that you are or were or will always be LOVED beyond measure and without end. My pledge going forward is to tell my boys as much truth as they can handle at that moment about my Worried Face so that they will KNOW that it really just means that I love them. Forever and Always. Godspeed. |