The events of the past weekend, both personal and observed, have convinced me that it is time for each of us to take a deep breath, slow the heck down and start fresh. From earthquakes, mine disasters, an unexpected loss of a loved one to the loss of a job that we identified too strongly with, it is time to slow down and take stock in who we are, where we were and what we are going to do in the minutes, days, months and years ahead.

Nothing is guaranteed to us except for choice. We are guaranteed our right to choose. Be it a course of action, a way of being, to be happy or not, everyday we have an opportunity to "choose" what our future will hold. My request and my pledge is to choose friends, family and balance over trappings, stress and the emptiness of strangers. I choose to do all I can to create a life that I will be proud of, secure in and will benefit those around me. I choose to move away from those who wallow, complain and conspire. I choose to make the world around me, both near and far, a better place and I choose to embrace my children and appreciate each one for who they are. I choose forgiveness over a grudge. I choose to forgive myself from my past, accept my present and embrace my role in creating my future.

This is my choice. What's yours?

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I'm Bonnie and I've been married for 28 years.

We have 8 children and the ages range from adults,teens and younger ones. We have 4 girls and 4 boys. I've been a mom for half my life.

About my family.

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In the words of singer Carole King, "My life has been a tapestry of rich and royal hue…" 

I like this metaphor for what it means symbolically, as well as literally.  Since childhood I have been manually inclined:  knitting, stitching and sewing.  Furniture upholstery, Halloween costumes, ice skating outfits, cross-stitched samplers and wedding dresses are among my specialties.  In 1986 I watched Miss Vermont parade on television in the Miss America pageant wearing the purple sequined gown she had hired me to make.

I love sharing this affinity with my sister, my daughter and nieces.  Oh, and apparently a growing number of truckers, as reported recently in the Wall Street Journal!

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Today I unpacked some things.

One of them is a book called "ORIGINS - A Short Etymological Dictionary of Modern English".

It was one of my father's favorite books.  He asked for it in Hospice.

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Several weeks ago, I pledged to blog about my favorite woman in technology*.

I didn't have to look far...  she is my daughter, Catherine Grevet.

When she manifested a skill for complex jigsaw puzzles at 18 months, I should have known that her mind was wired to see the big picture, plan a strategy, and fit the pieces together.  That was back before Mattel's Barbie became a Computer Engineer.

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My family faced a tough decision a few years ago.  My mother, whose Alzheimer's disease was progressing, needed placement in a memory care unit for her own well-being, as well as my father's.  He especially wanted to hold out as long as possible.  We all knew the placement would be inevitable.  The question was When?

We were wrestling with some of the saddest realities of our lives and facing difficult decisions.  When Hospice entered the picture, we gained the  enormous benefit of a case manager.

The case manager helped us to understand that our mom had more to gain from being moved while she still had some level of function.  Arriving before her decline was too advanced, and still able to participate, she would make a better adjustment to her new world. Overall health was likely to improve with all of her needs being met in an environment entirely geared to her situation.  And her family could become her family again, and not the full-time caregivers.

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I took this seaside photo a couple of days ago in a French town called Royan.  After a long, cold, snowy winter spent on both sides of the Atlantic, it felt good to gaze out on that same ocean, feel the warm sun, take in the broad expanse of the horizon, and observe the walkers advancing across the sand.

I've been thinking about walking.

Several years back my father carved two walking sticks.  They still lean in a corner by our front door, waiting for someone to take them out.

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Having spent so much time in nursing homes and Hospicecare centers over the past couple of years I'm thinking of starting a new profession: death coach. 

A visit to the palliative wing of a geriatric hospital yesterday reminded me how familiar that setting still feels.  I almost miss being in a place where what you say doesn't matter so much, as a look, a smile or a simple gesture. 

I accepted my mother's Alzheimer's disease, and applied myself to learning new ways to express love, as the old intellectual and verbal avenues shut down.

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Today I am trying to focus on the future and find the key to surviving an economic crisis in Michigan. Something that will make a difference in peoples lives. Something to earn a healthy living and using "it" to motivate, teach and assist others in the way I am being helped.

I am excited to use this forum to share thoughts and ideas and to sort through my thoughts and filter what will be helpful and what to just drop all together.

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The holidays always seem to intensify feelings. If things are going well, the decorations, music, and anticipation of spending time with family and friends becomes even more magical. But if worry, alienation and brokenness are what we're feeling, the pressure to appear happy and excited can make things even worse.

I know people who are falling in love, discovering new skills, reuniting after separation, and celebrating new-found employment. Their joy is contagious and uplifting. And I also know folks who are dealing with serious illness, worried about paying bills, and mourning recent losses. I am mindful that their generous holiday cheer might require extra courage.

During this season of celebration, may your joy abound, and may your courage be strong.

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