Oh my gosh, I’ve been terrible about blogging!   The 2nd big thing that happened to us in October (besides adopting Luci) was Mike retired on October 1.     Adjusting to him being retired has been interesting — we have pretty different ideas about what he should be doing with his time!   He seems to think cooking and taking care of the kids (Misty & Luci) is a full time job!    I think it’s a job that requires multi-tasking!

At any rate, since I can support my Farm Girl clients anywhere there is internet, we decided to load up the trailer at the end of January and head south.   For the record, I’m still struggling with facing that we are “old” enough to be snowbirds!    Mike says he’s starting a blog about our travels — and all the lessons we’ve learned about RV-ing — but so far — he’s been too busy!

Lesson Learned #1:   Don’t listen to Mike when packing the trailer.    He started making comments about me making too many trips to the trailer with clothes. I’m sure he didn’t take into account that I was also carrying sheets/blankets/towels/plus all the kitchen and bathroom stuff.   He seems to have plenty of clothes (some of which i carried out to the trailer).   Me?  I think he intimidated me right after I packed my “daytime” clothes – so I don’t have rodeo/go out to dinner clothes.     I will figure this out!

So we took off near the end of January.  Traveling with a puppy that still gets sick in the car makes it a little more interesting, but after the first couple hours or so of travel, at least she stopped getting sick and actually took a nap!

We went to Grapevine , Texas for about a week, and then we went down to San Antonio, and now we are in Houston.    Farm Girl has some rodeo clients that were in rodeos in both places – so we’ve been going to some rodeos, taking in the sunshine, and learning how to live in a small space!

I’ll try to be better about blogging our adventures…..

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Two Big Things Happened to Us in October.

October was a crazy month at our house — and would have probably been worthy of many blogs if I had taken the time to write them.   But I didn’t, so here we are!    Two big things happened, here’s the first.

As we approached Misty’s 14th birthday  – we decided (well, to be honest — I decided and Mike didn’t argue) that it was time to add a puppy to the family.    I’ve been on a waiting list at the breeder where we got Misty for a while, but our name has not gotten to the top of the list.    I was sitting in the house on Columbus Day weekend and something made me do a search for Sheltie puppies in Iowa.    There were two available in Des Moines, so after checking out the breeder with my friend Laura — we headed to Des Moines to meet the two puppies.    They couldn’t have been more different.   They were 4 days apart in age — and one was petite and precocious and the other one was a little bigger and more shy.

After sitting for an hour petting both of them. we brought Luci home.    She’s a bi-black sheltie (just black and white) and her face is nearly completely black.    We probably should have named her Bear.   Curious about whether we took petite & adventurous or a little bigger and shy?   We took the quiet one.    However – since 3 days after we brought her home — she hasn’t been quiet or shy.    She’s a handful!

After we brought her home, we both decided we were much younger the last time we had a puppy!  Making a trip outside every 20 minutes, (sometimes every 5 minutes), housetraining a puppy – and puppy proofing the house has been quite the challenge!   I

We wondered how Misty would adjust to a new puppy — and I have to say it’s been smoother than I thought.   That doesn’t mean they’re best friends.    Misty thinks the puppy is fine — as long as she’s not sitting in one of Misty’s “spots” – regardless of whether Misty is sitting there.   She’s a little more willing to share her spot on the quilts in front of the fireplace than her spot on Becky’s chair, her spot on the couch, or her spot on the ottoman.   However, Misty has been cool with the puppy sleeping with her on the couch or in the bed, like us — she’s a lot more tolerant when she’s asleep!

Stay tuned, for the other big event that happened to us in October!    An only child’s journey continues…….

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Do you talk horse?

I’m a bit behind in blogging — so I still have blogs to write about our adventures purchasing a camper — but this story happened this weekend — and I wanted to blog it before I forget!    I truly thought that after we finally decided what we wanted, and purchased it that the hard part was over.    Little did I know that the stress was about to start.  We drove the camper to a campground near our house — and we had to back it into a space.   Mike did great — but apparently I totally flunked at giving him signals.   I was feeling bad about this until I talked with a friend and she said that some of the biggest fights she had with her husband – were when they were parking the camper.  What I learned in that process is that the kind of directions I gave my Dad don’t work with Mike.   Even my hand signals are uninterpretable (according to him)!     Mike drove Army trucks when he was in the reserves – and those are the hand signals he expects.    I do not know Army hand signals.

We brought the camper out to a nice little lake, and we weren’t as early as we wanted to be. We pulled into a spot — and unhooked — and the auto-levelers just couldn’t quite get it right.   So we had to hook it up — get some boards out and try again.

The plan was to pull the camper forward about 18 inches to get it on the boards on one side — then we’d unhook and start over.   So I get properly positioned where I can watch and signal Mike at the correct time when he has moved forward 18 inches — and he gets in the truck to move forward.    He starts moving forward, and I since I always flunk hand signals I yelled WHOA (which sounds like ho when it comes out of my midwestern mouth).  He stopped.

I walked over to the window of the truck — and he says  – is “Ho” (rhymes with slow) “farm talk” for stop?   I said no — Ho is horse talk.   It’s clearly slang — and you don’t say W-ho-ah like it looks.   When you talk horse it comes out ho!  Then Mike said he had never heard anyone say “ho” instead of “stop”.  Sometimes I think he doesn’t get out much!   

We had a friend over that night for hot dogs and campfire time – and Mike told this story — thinking he’d get someone else to agree with him and he’d be able to tease me even more — and our friend just laughed – and said ho meant stop in “horse”!    That’s just one of the entertaining things that has happened this summer as I am learning to camp!

An only child’s journey continues….

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I’m downright giddy and it’s all due to TRASH!

Yep — I’m giddy — and I’m excited about it.    I’ve learned to recognize “giddy” the past couple of weeks — because Mike finally got all the pieces together to be able to submit his retirement — and he’s been dancing and smiling around the house like, well, I don’t even know how to describe it. He’s just all bouncy.     Mike’s retirement estimate showed his monthly payments would be significantly more if he “bought back” the time he spent in the military and let’s just say it was a process!     

what it looks like when you empty the contents of a closet onto the floor! However, that’s not what’s got me giddy today.  I’ve been working on cleaning my office this week, because I got sick of the piles of stuff on my desk (and I need to be able to ask Mike to clean up his office and that’s hard when mine is at “enter at your own risk”.    I started by emptying the closet.    That part made me feel like a hoarder.    I did find a lot of things I’d lost (like the retirement cards I bought for 3 people who retired almost a year before I did……I might just send them and surprise those people!!).  There were at least 6 empty ipad/iphone boxes,  lots of chargers and cords, and some random power cords that I can’t identify.

In the process of cleaning and reorganizing, I came across a few things from my career at the Veterans Health Administration.     Certificates, Awards, and all the paperwork from the training events I’d been a part of.     This isn’t the first time I’ve tried to clean my office since I retired.    I’ve shredded or thrown out copies of performance reviews, swag from conferences, and trash cans full of stuff — but I just couldn’t go that last step.    It wasn’t the certificates and awards.    I’ve shredded or thrown out everything except my Project Management Certifications and I kept them just in case I need to go back to work.    The part that was hard, was all the paperwork involved with those training events.   Copies of to-do lists, schedules, the never-ending spreadsheets from our face-to-face events, budgets, and all my notes from the development of our virtual training campus.    I guess I kept thinking that someone would call, that someone would want that corporate knowledge.

It’s a trash can with the last of my files from pre-retirement.

Please don’t misunderstand.   I love my retirement, I love having my own company and I’m doing well.    However, when you leave something you did for that many years, it’s hard to face that with a snap of your fingers, (or the clock striking midnight on retirement day)  that the organization you thought you made a difference for will go on without you.   I don’t cry about it, I don’t even think about it much — it’s just something that needs to be dealt with.

One of my friends told me when I retired that I was retiring from VA, not retiring from life and that’s the best advice anyone gave me.    However, I hadn’t taken the last steps in that retirement — throwing out all the papers and notes from those years.    I took those steps today — and I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.   I’m giddy!    Maybe even giddy enough to get back to regular blogging!

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June 17

Today is June 17 — and I almost went thru the day without looking at the calendar and thinking about what day it was.  I had been thinking about Fathers Day tomorrow, and how I wished my dad was still here — and then all of a sudden I looked at the calendar.

The date June 17 has always been circled on my family’s calendar.    Mom and Dad got married on June 17, 1952.    They actually got married on my Grampa and Grandma Monroe’s 54th anniversary, on a Tuesday night — just so they could get married on June 17.

Last fall, I was at an auction that had some scrapbooks, and I looked thru them for quite some time.   It was interesting, because it seemed that whoever made those scrapbooks cut out the stories from the newspapers about anyone they knew — and saved the stories in those scrapbooks.   (I meant to buy them — but it was so hot tired and we were stuffing the furniture I bought into the truck — and I missed them).   There was a lot of Tama County and Benton County history in those scrapbooks.

At any rate — I snapped a couple of pictures — and one of them was an article about my grandparents golden anniversary!    I’m glad I was able to look at those scrapbooks – but I really wish I had purchased them so I could read more family history!

An only child’s journey continues….

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Dealing with grief helped me find my tribe…

picture of my parents and me on mothers day 2013This picture came up on my Facebook feed this week, and it made me step back and think about things.   My life has changed so much in 4 years.   4 years ago on Mother’s day — we were only 3 weeks into my Mothers pancreatic cancer diagnosis.   She had lost a lot of weight and she was trying to deal with a ‘death sentence by cancer’ but she was still my mom.   She was only able to fight cancer for about 3 1/2 months before the cancer was winning.  It was horrible to watch, horrible to live thru, and it’s still painful if I go back and look at my pictures (or my blog) from that summer.    Mom and Dad moved in with me then, and our lives changed.

After Mom died, our focus became taking care of my dad.   We stayed home a lot so he wouldn’t be alone.    We didn’t plan things, because we didn’t want him to be alone.    He was our focus.   We didn’t plan anything — cuz we never knew how he would feel.

In the years I was taking care of my dad – my childhood friend Julie and I reconnected. She was fighting her own battle with cancer.    She was the ultimate Mom and career wise — she was pretty much the opposite of me.    She got married soon after high school, had 5 kids and loved her life in rural Clutier.    I went to college, struggled to find my life’s purpose and eventually landed at the VA, lived in 4 different states,  traveled 20-30 weeks per year and coordinating training around the US and was comfortable speaking in front of thousands of people.    She raised her family, sometimes struggling with health and financial woes, and took a couple of  trips on an airplane.   Our paths were very different, but when we reconnected – we were somehow in the same place.

I lost my dad and my friend Julie in 2016.    To say it was a tough year is an understatement.   I still have nightmares about my Dad’s hospitalization.    Could I have done something different that would have saved him some pain?    After all my blogs about caregiving – did I actually fail when it was time to participate in what turned out to be his final days?   I feel like I did.    It’s been a tough road living with that.

In the last year I worked at the VA we had no budget, and a project that I had poured my heart and soul into was killed.  My job was full of politics and a hater or too.   When that project was killed, I grieved it –actually I’m still grieving it — but I didn’t realize it until recently.    It’s hard when you’ve poured blood, sweat and tears into building a training culture, and you leave with nothing to show for it but memories.

My personal life had changed so much, my work life would changed, and eventually, when it was obvious that I had no passion for the work I was doing — I planned my retirement from VA.     In actuality it wasn’t quite that easy — I had to do paperwork, do math, and make sure that I wouldn’t have to get a job as a WalMart greeter before I could make that decision!  I had promised some people I would keep blogging after my retirement, but my grief has been so overwhelming that I didn’t want to write if it was going to sound like I was whining.

I read a blog this morning entitled 3 things you learn after your mother dies.  The first thing in the blog really touched me.

This is exactly how it’s been with me, starting 4 years ago when Mom died.   I never know when I’ll have a bad day, I never know how it will hit me, but it’s been incredibly exhausting.    When I started Pilates, Carey became much more than a Pilates teacher.    She’s a friend, and it was her idea that I should start Farm Girl Marketing Solutions, my retirement business that has already given me so much more than the cash it brings in.   I started working with a health coach who gives me assignments to work on weekly.   One of the things she’s encouraged me to formalize, is a practice of gratitude.   I write down what I’m grateful for, even if it’s as simple as the sun shining or a flower blooming.   I try to erase the memories of my dad’s hospitalization, by writing down memories of my dad that I’m grateful for.

It was during my gratitude process that I realized I was grateful for my tribe.  What is a tribe? A tribe is a small but powerful group of people.  It’s a fan base, a Bible study, a group of influencers.   A tribe is small enough to feel personal but large enough to make a difference.   A tribe is not usually created out of thin air.   More often than not, tribes are found.  They are existing groups of people formed around very specific interests and passions.

It’s not the same tribe I had 4 years ago.    My tribe of 4 years ago was full of coworkers, not necessarily friends in a world of politics and drama.  (handful of those people are still in my tribe, people I consider true friends).  My tribe of today is an amazing collection of people that believe in living positive, faith filled lives.  My tribe of today has only a couple of people I even knew 4 years ago.   There’s no room for haters, drama or politics in my tribe. My tribe of today is diverse and each person in it makes an amazing contribution to helping me live a positive life.   My tribe has come together because of all the things that I’ve been through in the past 4 years and the one feeling I’ve felt more than any other.   Grief.

An only child’s journey continues…

If you want to read more on why women need tribes, click here.

Posted in caregiver, dealing with grief | 1 Comment

Too many feelings and an empty chair!

I just looked back, and I haven’t blogged since August.   Starting a new business keeps me busy — and when I’ve been blogging — I’ve been blogging for the business.    When I retired many people asked me to keep blogging, and I’ve let it slide.   Why?    Cuz sometimes it’s easier not to face the emotions.     Someone walked into my dad’s funeral in February — and said — “now you’re all alone”, then she quickly added an invitation to “join” their family.    Sometimes the all alone feelings hit me more than others, and this past two weeks was one of those times!   The new business has been a blessing, because most days it keeps me much too busy to think about my emotions.

toby_1980Mike and I took our annual trip to the National Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas.   We went for all 10 nights, and I never dreamed that I’d actually feel more lonesome for my Dad when I was in Las Vegas than I have for months.   He loved hearing about our rodeo adventures, and when we came home from Vegas full of stories, he would always end up telling Mike how he and Mom took me to Cheyenne Frontier Days when I was 10 or so, and we had to cut the trip short because all they heard from me was “I miss Toby”.   As an only child, Toby (my pony) was my my bestie!   We did everything together!

Even getting ready for vacation was different this year.    My friend Dawnell still came to house sit and take care of Misty, but I didn’t have to do a meal plan for my Dad, or get his medications ready.     During the rodeo they always have one of those “in memorium” presentations — and after losing my dad and my friend Julie this year, the moments were particularly poignant.    At the end of the music video — they released smoke (clouds) into the arena and some horses came into the arena.  I totally lost it.  I was sitting with friends that night, and i was right beside two people that i had met when I sat down for the rodeo — so I’m sure they were watching me wipe the tears off my face and wondering what was wrong with me!

In past years, we head to the rodeo about 5, and then hang out till the rodeo starts, and I always called my Dad to check in about 6pm Vegas time, that was just a while before his bed time in Iowa.    Little did I realize before I left for the rodeo, how much I would miss those phone calls.   I was sitting at the bar one night with Mike, and the tears started rolling down my cheeks.

img_4884Yesterday, coming home from the rodeo – it all started again.  My dad wasn’t at my house when we got home.   We were on our flight to Cedar Rapids, and I was trying to sleep, but all I could think about was my Dad’s empty chair.  (We’ve moved it around — but it doesn’t help.   It’s still empty).  Who knew that 10 months (to the day) after my Dad passed away — the grief would come back so strong.    Worse — I can still hear those awful words he said when he was in so much pain in the hospital.   They play over and over in my head.   I read an article yesterday whose first point was “be prepared for intense emotions.”     I’m trying.   Meanwhile, the days are pretty long right now.

An only child’s journey continues……




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A flood of memories

Many moons ago, when we lived in the house surrounded by evergreen trees I remember sitting in the kitchen (with the olive green cabinets)  with my mom and my Dad came home from the sale barn.   He said, you know, there’s someone down the road that would really like to meet you and ride ponies with you.   He had run into Albin Dvorak at the sale barn, and said that he had a daughter about the same age as me, and maybe we could ride ponies together.    I don’t remember how we actually met, but I’m guessing it involved loading Toby in the back of the pickup, and taking him the 2 miles down the road so Julie and I could ride our ponies.     Yes, that was before we had a horse trailer (and before we had a horse).   My dad backed the pickup up to the corncrib alley and Toby had to jump in. That was the only ride Toby every got down that road.   From then on, we rode Toby and Brownie up and down the gravel road, from our house to the Dvorak house, and back again — and despite the fact that those ponies had really short legs, they were darn good transportation.   We thought we were trick riders sometimes — so we practiced changing ponies when we were riding, first walking, then trotting, and even occasionally riding backwards, and then switching ponies backwards.   We could stand on our ponies and ride, but we didn’t do that where anyone could see us.

When my Dad started renting the creek pasture from Wilson for our cows – that gave us another place to ride.    We watched the cows cross the creek and decided we could too — and more than once we pretended we were on Gunsmoke and raced from one side of the creek to the other as fast as our ponies would take us.   (usually bareback, and wearing shorts and tennis shoes.)   As our legs got longer, my Dad bought me Trixie, and Julie’s Dad bought her horse Sugar.   Our routine was the same.    Most every summer day (as long as I had practiced the piano first) — we would meet at the little bridge that we had decided was half way between our houses, and decide where we went from there.  We had an arena at my house (behind the buildings).    We had barrels, poles, and sometimes a jumping course.    These were not exactly the jumps we just saw on the olympics.    We had barrels, 5 gallon buckets, bales (both square and round) and a board that we had found somewhere.   Clearly, we didn’t know that people sometimes break their neck jumping over things.    We jumped bareback and with our western saddles, helmets weren’t invented yet.    I think the tallest we jumped was a board across a 5 gallon bucket on top of one of my barrels.    We weren’t just hopping around on 6 inch jumps!    Sugar loved to jump — and the little creek in the Wilson pasture was way fun to jump, and gave both of us some horse training skills.   We could cue our horses to jump, just like we cued them to do any other crazy thing that one of us thought of.   Those were the beginning days of Yankee Riders Saddle Club, and we went on trail rides through what is now Hickory Hills park and Tama County lake a couple of times a month.   Once when we were leaving Tama County lake our pickup was having trouble making it up the hills with 4 horses in the trailer, so we stopped, Julie and I grabbed our bridles, grabbed our horses, and we rode to the gate of the park bareback and then loaded our horses back up.

Our lives went in different directions in high school.   When Lon got his drivers license, Julie was generally with him, and I was in a different high school and involved in school activities.   After high school, Julie and Lon got married, and started their family, and I went on to college. It was always family and being near family  that was the most important to her.  I have always admired her for knowing what things were important to her happiness.   Lon, the kids, and the critters on the farm.    It wasn’t always easy.   I remember going to the State Fair with them one year and somehow in the line to see the Butter Cow we lost Willis.   (hard to imagine if you know him now).    Mother Bear Julie came out instantly, and in a few minutes we had found Will and all the kids had gotten a lecture on what to do if they got separated from us.    Later in the day, Nicole and I had stopped to watch some horses, and everyone else kept walking, and she stopped in the middle of the street.   “Mom, said we’re supposed to stand still until they see us.”  Julie taught us all lessons in life.

Skip ahead about 30 years, and I had moved to Tennessee, New York, Cleveland, and back, and my parents were starting to have health problems.  That’s when I started blogging, and somehow Julie found those blogs and came back into my life.  I saw her for the first time in years at my Mom’s funeral – she came up behind me gave me a hug, and said “Don’t worry, we’re here.”   Then I went into caregiver mode for my dad, knowing that she’d be there for me if I needed her.  I found out she had been diagnosed with Cancer from her sister after I saw a weird reference on Facebook, and then again — I learned to prioritize the important things in my life by watching Julie.    She fought the Cancer with all she had, but she didn’t complain, and she didn’t show fear.  Her faith was strong.  I’m not saying she wasn’t sad.   She hated knowing that she wouldn’t see her grandkids grow to adults so she taught them what she could in the time they had together.

Some time during her fight with cancer, she started ending every conversation with “I love you” instead of “goodbye”.  Another lesson from Julie.  Say it when you can, and make sure people know that you love them.    What I didn’t know at the time, was that I would still be able to hear her saying it after she left us.  I can close my eyes and hear it now.    I hope her kids and grandkids can too!

IMG_2253Last fall we stopped at the farm after my Dad had an appointment in Waterloo, because Julie wanted to show us her pony.     The doctors had told her she couldn’t ride anymore after the radiation, but she thought she could hitch the pony to the cart and drive around. She brought the pony out to show us — and this picture is when she was talking to my Dad, and he said something that made her laugh.    She says it was a coincidence that this pony (Honey) had the same coloring as her 1st horse Sugar did — but I’m just not sure.  I think it was her way of trying to transfer her love of horses to her grandchildren.

We had a conversation about what was important in life a few months ago, and we were talking about how we had learned that people were the important things in life and that “things” didn’t mean much.     Julie had learned it thru the struggles of farming and raising a family, and I had learned it one Christmas when my Dad got violently ill right before Christmas.   We believed in family, and she told me that since my parents were gone, I should consider her family mine.    She made sure that I had a place to go on Easter and Mothers Day and Fathers Day after my dad passed away.    She made me promise to stay family when she was gone.  I spent my birthday there, because I knew it was the last chance I would have to spend my birthday with her — and in the afternoon — she made sure I had an impromptu party!

I was in Orlando and I called to check on her, and she had decided we were saying what we need to say that day.  That was the hardest conversation ever.   Not hard because I didn’t know what to say — Julie and I never had a hard time talking —  but hard because Julie and I were both going from tears to laughter to tears.  We both knew that we wouldn’t have that many more conversations.  She said, I’m sorry, I might make you cry, and I might cry too but we need to say these things.  It was June and it was when she decided that she couldn’t do any more chemo.   We cried.   We laughed.   We said I love you.  We talked about my blog that I had written after her doctor appointment the week before. I had been taking time off from work to sit with her at her appointments at the University, but my retirement gave me more freedom to go to Clutier to the farm and help out.    I am so thankful for the time we have spent together recently.  About a month ago, I went in to her bedroom to hang out with her and she said — “You probably think I’m lame for laying in bed.” I told her that there would be a day I would sit at her bedside, but that was not the day.    For that day, I told her to sleep and get the rest her body craved.

I sat by her bedside on Tuesday.   The ability to speak had been taken away, but I sat, and I talked with her.  I held her hand and cursed Cancer, because it had taken away her physical strength, but she still held her Rosary.   Every now and then, I’d ask her a question, and I’d see her eyes dart toward me so I would know that she understood.   She knew every time that Lon came in the room, and I know she could see how hard it was for him.  I could feel her worry for him as I sat with her.   She hung on, until after evening milking, when all her kids had come back in the house.   She left us on her terms, at home on the farm she loved with her husband and five children in the room with her.   She fought cancer for 22 months, and spent maybe 4 days in the hospital.    Her strength gave her family strength, even thru those last hours.

I love you Julie.   I will miss you, but I’m guessing God needed some help teaching other people the lessons you taught us.

An only child’s journey continues……

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Best Birthday in a long time!

IMG_3837Just three years ago — i wrote a blog entitled It’s my birthday and I’ll cry if I want to, and today — 3 years later — I’ve had my best birthday in a long time which is weird, because I am sitting here alone in my living room with Misty — and I’m smiling so big my cheeks hurt.   I don’t even know how to explain it, because it wasn’t really planned, it just sort of happened.

I retired from the VA last Thursday — so I’ve had a lot of firsts lately.    First day of retirement.   First holiday where I didn’t get paid.   Officially — that makes this day 3 (workday) of retirement.   Mike left this morning for a business trip.  I took him to the airport, and he was feeling like he shouldn’t leave on my birthday.   I tried to reassure him. I’m the one who booked the ticket, and it’s not a big deal for me if the cheapest airfare was only offered on my birthday.    I went to the airport and back, I went to Pilates and I went out to breakfast with a friend.     Great start to my birthday!

I had decided a few weeks ago what I wanted to do today.  I have a friend with Stage IV lung cancer, and she recently stopped doing chemo/radiation.   I wanted to spend my birthday with her.   I don’t know if I will have another chance to spend my birthday with her.   So after breakfast, I got in the car, and drove on up there.    I was a little nervous on the way up there, because I hadn’t seen her in about a month.   I had no idea how her disease had progressed in that month.  Then I figured out I wasn’t sure what to do when I got there.    Lucky for me — I had 50 miles in the car to figure it out.

I had all my gadgets with me, so i could easily spend the day working or playing games.   However, that wasn’t what I was going for, I wanted to be able to help out. Ok, that would probably be easier if I was a good cook or a good cleaner, or something besides a gadget nerd! So I thought about it.    When my Mom was so sick and we were taking care of her, my friend Kristin came and took care of us.   She did so many little things, and I’m way not as good at taking care of people as she is — but I decided to “channel” her and see if I could figure out how to be helpful.

My friend was up and having breakfast when I got there, but she said she was really tired. I asked her if there was something I could do, and she couldn’t think of anything.   So I channeled my friend Kristin again.    “Do you mind if I clean your refrigerator?”   The answer was funny as I think back on it.   At first she was nervous.   “What do you mean? ”   Then she back tracked, and said, do whatever you want, and I’ll lay down and rest for a bit. I helped her get to bed, and then I went to work on the refrigerator.

Did you ever clean someone else’s refrigerator?   And did you ever clean someone else’s refrigerator on your birthday?     I knew from when we lived thru cancer with my Mom, (before Kristin came to take care of us) that sometimes you skip over things.   You eat fast food, you eat easy food to fix, and you shove the leftovers in the frig, but many times the next day you forget what’s in there, so you fix something new, and more leftovers get shoved in the frig.   It gets deeper and deeper, and you may or may not find the things you shoved in the refrigerator days and weeks later.    I’ve been at the “observation” end of this.  I’ve watched Kristin pull stuff out of my frig, look at the date on the item, realize that the date on the item was before we moved into this house, and well, it’s really good to keep the garbage can close, because it ends up getting full.  I kept channeling Kristin, one refrigerator shelf at a time.

Just like the first time Kristin cleaned my refrigerator, once I was done cleaning — there was a bunch of extra room in the refrigerator.  I also channeled Kristin when I was organizing shelves and storage.   1st shelf dairy.   2nd shelf leftovers.    3rd shelf tall stuff.   1 drawer for meat and cheese — oops — nothing left to put in the other drawer.    (I may have to talk to them about vegetables!)

I had sent a message to Mike part way thru — and he made some remark about cleaning a refrigerator seemed like work you wouldn’t do on your birthday.   Someone else sent me a similar message.   The fact is — I felt useful.    I did something for this family that they didn’t have time to do.   It’s my birthday and I’ll clean a refrigerator if I want to!

An only child’s journey continues………#theadventuresofBecky


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Endings are Hard

This blog is double published, on both my work blog (my last blog as today is retirement day) — and my personal blog.

Last week, in #OnlyChildsJourney Enough is Enough, I blogged about knowing when it was time to call everything off.    Time to pass in the songbooks as the announcer used to say on the radio at Hawkeye games.  Knowing when it was time to pass in those books on my VA career seems to be the easy part of my decision.   Saying goodbye, well that’s a little harder.

I am totally grateful to have had a career at the Veterans Administration.  I’ve lived in 4 different states during my VA career, I’ve had opportunities that I couldn’t have ever predicted, and I’ve met some amazing people.   Those people have touched my life in so many incredible ways.    It hasn’t always been easy, and it hasn’t always been positive.   I’ve learned so much.   There’s a church out in the country near some tiny town in northeast Iowa that we drive by on the way to Minneapolis.    Every time I drive by that church, I remember one of my favorite patients from my days as a clinic clerk.    His name was Loren and he was fighting cancer.   I checked him in for oncology appointments, chemo appointments and radiation therapy, and I watched his declining health.   I moved on to another job, and I never exactly how things ended for him, but when I drive by that church I still remember his smile. I was lucky that my supervisor gave me the chance to learn VA File Manager — a database program. Turns out I had a knack for that, and since I also had a knack for talking, my career as a trainer was born.

13 years later I was in the right place at the right time and the development team for CPRS asked me if I would help as they prepared to roll out physician order entry.   As I started down the CPRS Training road I had no idea the opportunities, rewards or the costs of that decision.    One of the most exciting things I ever did was lead a training class of clinical staff in West Palm Beach, knowing that some of the developers had worked all night since the previous day’s class.   They were fixing errors, they were changing functionality based on feedback, and they were in the back of the room watching.     I remember looking at them occasionally while I was talking with an “is this safe to tell the people to do” kind of look.   I could tell by their faces when they were confident, and when I needed to adjust the training plan!   In Central Texas a physician left the room in tears, after accusing me of trying to turn her into a clerk.    Yep — there weren’t a lot of dull moments back then.    There was also a lot of airplanes, a lot of hotel rooms, and not a lot of time for my friends and family at home.

That all evolved into conferences and the conferences grew bigger and bigger and what started out as Camp CPRS, became VA eHealth University, and finally MyVeHU Campus.  Thanks to those original OE/RR developers, the training we were doing always started with what the users needed.    At the time I didn’t know how rare that was.   We weren’t pushing out priorities from Central Office to the field, we were asking the field what they needed to know to do their work, and then we’d meet with the developers and the support teams and try to figure out how to help those field staff.   After every training or every conference, we’d gather attendees together by role (Providers, Nurses, Pharmacists, HIM and Clinical Informatics Support) and we’d ask them — what worked, what didn’t and how we could improve.    We then asked them what training they wanted that they didn’t get, and that was our agenda to work from for the next conference.   When face-to-face conferences were ruled out for budget reasons, we figured out away to present virtually, and that opened so many options for training.  For every opportunity, I am grateful.

I can’t start naming names of all the people I’d like to thank in VA because, there are too many names.   30 years is a lot of meeting people.   I truly appreciate the people that have influenced me and gave me opportunities to think outside the traditional VA box.  For everyone who participated in Camp CPRS and VeHU (and that includes speakers, planners, attendees, our vendor partners, and my family, who understood the commitment to manage a successful conference) – I thank you!

nutsTo my Training Strategy team (Sonya, Dawnell, Donna K, John, Kimberly, Kris, Harold and HeeJung)- it has been an honor to pursue the mission of virtual training with you, and even though I have watched you grow and learn, every single day your talent amazes me.  Whenever something needs to be done, you circle the wagons, make a plan, and make it happen.   There is no training project that the VA can throw at you that you can’t accomplish — and accomplish with engaging training  (no talking heads reading slides!) Keep doing that.    VHA needs you.

Saying goodbye is hard.  There doesn’t seem to be the pomp and circumstance with retirement that I imagined there would be.  I always imagined the Secretary would want to shake my hand or give me a hug on retirement day.    That’s not going to happen.  Part of that is because I work virtually.  I have to pack up my VA equipment and send it back myself – movers aren’t coming in to do it for me.    You can’t have the party with the retirement cake from the canteen, when everyone you work with lives in a different state.   So this afternoon, wherever you are, I hope you’ll have a glass of iced tea and a cupcake to celebrate my retirement.   That’s what I’m going to do.

Here are a few pictures that I showed our team the other day, I thought I would share them with everyone.  My first priority is to prove I am retiring from the VA, not from life.

I am very grateful for my VA career — I have the opportunity to meet leadership t hat I never would have probably run into if it wasn’t for Camp CPRS and VeHU!  Here’s some of my favorite memories.    For those of you who were there in 2003, I don’t have a picture of us doing CPRS to the tune of YMCA.    That would have to be an all time favorite!












To the team I work with now, and to the team of Track Directors for our face to face conference days — thank you — every one of you taught me something!


Most of all, it’s been an Honor to serve our Veterans, and it’s been my privilege to get help some of them share there message in VA eHealth University, and MyVeHU Campus.   When we did the session in MyVeHU Campus with Dr. Jesse and Josh, Josh might have given me the most unexpected answer to an interview question ever, when I asked him why he joined the army.     He said he wanted to paint his face green, eat bugs, and kill people.  His session taught me so much about the “little things” that we could do in VA medical centers to make visiting the VA easier for our Veterans.

irishFor my friends at VA, especially all the VeHU Track Directors and planning committees that have become my extended family — if you’re ever in Iowa — let us know.   You can always reach me via social media or at   I will likely keep blogging, and I’m not going to change the name of the blog, but I will have a new hashtag!   #adventuresofBecky  HUGS.


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