Ever thought about how the day after Christmas is so different from the night before our biggest holiday? Before is filled with anticipation, excitement, and preparation. The day after is clean up the mess time, work on leftovers, procrastinate about undecking the halls (sounds like a New Year’s Day project), and maybe a twinge of depression that the big day is over.
This year, the day after fell on Sunday, so the normal “day after” seems to me like it’s on overdrive. The house is quiet—holiday music seems so “yesterday” and I just couldn’t Face the Nation this morning. Why would anyone want to hear that squabbling on the day after Christmas?
Overnight, more snow fell—okay, we already had a white Christmas so I’m ready for it to stop. I decided to stay home instead of braving the slick roads to go to church this morning. Instead, I watched Joel Osteen on TV.
Joel’s message this morning, “Enjoy the Journey,” really hit home with me. The gist of his message was how we get too busy to enjoy the simple things in life. He talked about how we rush through life in anticipation of the big events and don’t have time to savor the small moments that make the memories. We need to squeeze time in our busy schedules to spend with family and loved ones, instead of zapping our energy with work and obligations.
I guess if a busy man like Joel Osteen can take time to savor the moment, it should be easy for me. When I examine my life, it seems to be mostly hectic, and too often hectic turns to frantic. I’ve just kept piling on obligations until they’ve taken on a life of their own. For the past week, I haven’t worried about all the things I should be doing, but have pretty much just shoved them aside. For once, my holiday has been respite from responsibilities.
Holidays were especially hard during the ten years of Jim’s dementia. Christmas activities pretty much confused him and he didn’t like the house being changed with decorations. When he was in the nursing home, he enjoyed the small Christmas tree I put in his room.
Each year is different in some way. If nothing else, the kids or grandkids are getting older. After our family get-together this year, my oldest grandson got behind the wheel of the family vehicle to drive them home. It doesn’t seem that long ago that we bought him Woody and Buzz Lightyear for Christmas.
While some really relate to the ho-ho-ho and jolly part of Christmas, others are filled with dread as they struggle to establish new traditions, or wonder how they will put on a happy face for everyone else. There’s a lot of internal and external pressure to be merry at Christmas. It’s expected.
As far as Christmas, I think I’ll just go with Joel Osteen’s idea to “Enjoy the Journey.” Each Christmas is different, but that doesn’t mean it is necessarily better or worse. The Christmases that may have seemed the most challenging at the time yield happy moments that turn into cherished memories. I can still see Jim wearing his Kansas City Chief’s shirt, mesmerized by the fiber optic tree. When I walked into his room, sometimes he would turn to me and his eyes would light up.
Life’s journey seems to be flying by and Christmas is a mile marker. Christmas is over, again. Now, it’s time to think about how to make the most of the 365 days of 2011. No one but me can put the “happy” in my New Year, but I might as well start with this day after Christmas. No time like the present to make a memory.
Copyright © December 2010 by L. S. Fisher
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com
Showing posts with label Joel Osteen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Joel Osteen. Show all posts
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Life is Good
I found myself in a funk—tired, rundown, and overdrawn on vitality. To regain my normal optimistic outlook on life, I decided to take a mini-vacation with nary a single plan to clutter up my do-nothingness. Usually the idea of taking three days off work in the middle of a Missouri July means chilling out under the air conditioner.
Wednesday, I went to Kansas City and wore one of my “Life is Good” T-shirts for luck. I ventured into Dick’s Sporting Goods to see what kind of mid-summer bargains they might have. I practically glowed with optimism when I found my favorite T-shirts on sale and snapped up four “Life is Good” long-sleeved T-shirts. Well, I figured I couldn’t wear them until fall, but knew I’d get my money’s worth then.
When I was in Boston last year I visited the original Life is Good store. That’s where I heard the Bert and John Jacobs’ story. These two guys made their start by selling T-shirts out of the back of a van. With a creative idea and a vanload of optimism, their achievements must have exceeded their wildest optimistic dreams.
Sometimes in my life, it’s been hard for me to remain optimistic, but it is in my nature to look for the good in life. That is part of what helped me make it through the ten years of Jim’s dementia. I sought out the good times, the quiet times, the loving times. I found that by cherishing those small moments of joy, I could make it through the bad times.
As we travel the river of life, we hit snags, whirlpools try to suck us downward, and sometimes we wind up high and dry on a sand bar. When we navigate through dangerous rapids we find ourselves in mortal danger as we cling to life.
We can recognize the dangers of a river, but often don’t recognize the risk of stress. Warning signs are everywhere—high blood pressure, chronic fatigue, depression. We need to find a calm, quiet place and mentally regroup. We all need respite from the pressures of life. If we don’t take time for ourselves, our inner optimism will die from lack of use.
My mini-vacation became respite from work and hot weather. A friend and I had a backyard barbeque Thursday evening and as we relaxed in lawn chairs a cool breeze sprung up. Who would have thought we would have 70 degree weather on a mid-July evening?
Today, I awoke to 60 degree weather and guess what? I broke out one of my Life is Good shirts. I removed the tag and realized that my shirt is named “Acoustic Jake.”
I still find joy in life’s small treasures. I find comfort in reading inspirational books like Joel Osteen’s Your Best Life Now and Become a Better You. This morning, my uplifting reading came from a tag off my Life is Good shirt. These words surround the logo on the tag: “Do what you like. Like what you do. Optimism can take you anywhere.”
Life is good.
http://www.lifeisgood.com/
http://www.joelosteen.com/
Wednesday, I went to Kansas City and wore one of my “Life is Good” T-shirts for luck. I ventured into Dick’s Sporting Goods to see what kind of mid-summer bargains they might have. I practically glowed with optimism when I found my favorite T-shirts on sale and snapped up four “Life is Good” long-sleeved T-shirts. Well, I figured I couldn’t wear them until fall, but knew I’d get my money’s worth then.
When I was in Boston last year I visited the original Life is Good store. That’s where I heard the Bert and John Jacobs’ story. These two guys made their start by selling T-shirts out of the back of a van. With a creative idea and a vanload of optimism, their achievements must have exceeded their wildest optimistic dreams.
Sometimes in my life, it’s been hard for me to remain optimistic, but it is in my nature to look for the good in life. That is part of what helped me make it through the ten years of Jim’s dementia. I sought out the good times, the quiet times, the loving times. I found that by cherishing those small moments of joy, I could make it through the bad times.
As we travel the river of life, we hit snags, whirlpools try to suck us downward, and sometimes we wind up high and dry on a sand bar. When we navigate through dangerous rapids we find ourselves in mortal danger as we cling to life.
We can recognize the dangers of a river, but often don’t recognize the risk of stress. Warning signs are everywhere—high blood pressure, chronic fatigue, depression. We need to find a calm, quiet place and mentally regroup. We all need respite from the pressures of life. If we don’t take time for ourselves, our inner optimism will die from lack of use.
My mini-vacation became respite from work and hot weather. A friend and I had a backyard barbeque Thursday evening and as we relaxed in lawn chairs a cool breeze sprung up. Who would have thought we would have 70 degree weather on a mid-July evening?
Today, I awoke to 60 degree weather and guess what? I broke out one of my Life is Good shirts. I removed the tag and realized that my shirt is named “Acoustic Jake.”
I still find joy in life’s small treasures. I find comfort in reading inspirational books like Joel Osteen’s Your Best Life Now and Become a Better You. This morning, my uplifting reading came from a tag off my Life is Good shirt. These words surround the logo on the tag: “Do what you like. Like what you do. Optimism can take you anywhere.”
Life is good.
http://www.lifeisgood.com/
http://www.joelosteen.com/
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Joel Osteen Unleashes Hope and Inspiration in Kansas City
Joel Osteen ministries unleashed hope and inspiration in Kansas City last night. Joel has the God-given talent to make millions believe in the premise of his books, “Live Your Best Life Now” and “Become a Better You.”
At Kansas City’s Night of Hope, a packed Kemper Arena learned the limited scope of Joel Osteen’s half-hour TV broadcast. During a longer worship service, the music is lively, uplifting, and the singers actually jump up and down while they sing. They must be young, or they would surely be out of breath.
Joel’s wife, Victoria, shares a message that is relevant for anyone dealing with Alzheimer’s. She speaks of unconditional love and how inner happiness begins with loving your own family. She says that to demonstrate your love for your family, celebrate daily moments instead of waiting for major events. Victoria drinks one cup of coffee in the morning and although he doesn’t drink coffee, Joel fixes coffee for her and sometimes brings it to her in bed. This small act of kindness shows his love for her.
I personally identify with Victoria’s coffee story. Always the early riser, Jim required a cup of coffee and no obstacle ever interfered with his morning ritual. Once he brewed a pot on our camp stove in a hospital parking lot, and another time, hiked across a busy St. Louis interstate to McDonald’s because the hotel coffee shop did not open until the ridiculously late hour of 6:00 a.m. All I had to do was snuggle beneath warm covers and he would bring me my first cup of coffee in bed, complete with creamer, just the way I liked it. It was just one of the ways Jim showed he loved me.
As dementia clouded Jim’s abilities, he became more dependent on me, and I was blessed to return some of the consideration and care he had always shown me. One time I went to the Alzheimer’s Association Public Policy Forum and was dismayed when I returned to find no one had shaved Jim during my absence. His mother told me Jim pushed away the nurses’ aide who tried to shave him and struggled through his voice-stealing aphasia to say, “No! Linda.” Shaving him was a small daily celebration of our love, and no nurses’ aide would pat Old Spice onto his smooth cheeks the same way I did.
When someone you love has Alzheimer’s you have daily opportunities to celebrate your unconditional love. If you face each breaking dawn with inner hope and a conviction that each day is too precious to waste, you will find a Joel Osteen type of inspiration to “Live Your Best Life Now.”
At Kansas City’s Night of Hope, a packed Kemper Arena learned the limited scope of Joel Osteen’s half-hour TV broadcast. During a longer worship service, the music is lively, uplifting, and the singers actually jump up and down while they sing. They must be young, or they would surely be out of breath.
Joel’s wife, Victoria, shares a message that is relevant for anyone dealing with Alzheimer’s. She speaks of unconditional love and how inner happiness begins with loving your own family. She says that to demonstrate your love for your family, celebrate daily moments instead of waiting for major events. Victoria drinks one cup of coffee in the morning and although he doesn’t drink coffee, Joel fixes coffee for her and sometimes brings it to her in bed. This small act of kindness shows his love for her.
I personally identify with Victoria’s coffee story. Always the early riser, Jim required a cup of coffee and no obstacle ever interfered with his morning ritual. Once he brewed a pot on our camp stove in a hospital parking lot, and another time, hiked across a busy St. Louis interstate to McDonald’s because the hotel coffee shop did not open until the ridiculously late hour of 6:00 a.m. All I had to do was snuggle beneath warm covers and he would bring me my first cup of coffee in bed, complete with creamer, just the way I liked it. It was just one of the ways Jim showed he loved me.
As dementia clouded Jim’s abilities, he became more dependent on me, and I was blessed to return some of the consideration and care he had always shown me. One time I went to the Alzheimer’s Association Public Policy Forum and was dismayed when I returned to find no one had shaved Jim during my absence. His mother told me Jim pushed away the nurses’ aide who tried to shave him and struggled through his voice-stealing aphasia to say, “No! Linda.” Shaving him was a small daily celebration of our love, and no nurses’ aide would pat Old Spice onto his smooth cheeks the same way I did.
When someone you love has Alzheimer’s you have daily opportunities to celebrate your unconditional love. If you face each breaking dawn with inner hope and a conviction that each day is too precious to waste, you will find a Joel Osteen type of inspiration to “Live Your Best Life Now.”
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)