As I ease on into my (gulp) late 50s, I often find myself thinking about the legacy I leave behind.  One of my dearest friends on the planet is facing the probability of leaving her earthly body in the not so distant future; yet, every time I talk with her, she still cracks me up (and I think I might do the same for her, too).  Yesterday, on my birthday, we had a great chat and a great prayer session.  She has been feeling pretty puny, and we talked about how she has prepared her three beautiful kids (now all over 18, but these were kiddos who loved on our three Florida Labs like they were their own, so I can still call them "kids") for grace and mercy after she heads to Heaven to be Jesus's personal jester.
     Not surprisingly, the sermon yesterday on the first Sunday of Advent was about being prepared and making preparations.  We all get the tree and the gifts and the cards (is anyone else still sending these historical artifacts?) ready for Christmas, but are we truly preparing our hearts for our Higher Power to come along and whisk us away at any given moment?  I can most assuredly say that I get caught up in the "temporary trappings of this world" as Nichole Nordeman sings in one of my favorite songs, Legacy (take a listen; you won't be sorry). But when it comes down to it (what is "it"? It's like Curly said in City Slickers, "Just one thing. You stick to that and the rest don't mean s***"), those earthly things will mean very little. What is that one thing for you? 
     My one thing is a few things all wrapped up into one----God; my serenity; Dave; my family (including all of our canine members) and friends; my passion for work, love, and life; and a desire to leave behind a legacy that is more than WHAT I did but WHO I am.  I know....that's a lot, isn't it? And I can honestly say I stink at some of the legacy part sometimes because I get caught between wanting to make things right and "letting go and letting God".  
     Some things just hurt my heart, and I can't find a way to stay silent about them. Recently, on Facebook (you know wherever this is headed with that intro might not be great----hang on), one of my connections posted a beautiful sentiment about donating her organs after she leaves this earth. Her point was, "I don't need them; I sure hope someone else can".  I loved it.  Now what could possibly go wrong with this post, right???? Wait for it.....Shortly thereafter, one of her friends posted something to the effect that she was also willing to donate her organs, as long as she could put in a clause that an organ wouldn't be donated to someone from the opposite political party to which she belongs.  Yep, and the language was WAY worse than I just said....way worse than even Curly had said.  What the what??? I struggled....for a minute.....about whether or not to respond, but I couldn't keep in my feelings about humanity.       I simply don't understand how you could turn a beautiful post about a beautiful gift into something so inane (really, worse than inane if you had read the post, but we'll go with that for now).  I can promise you right now that anyone, whether you vote the same way I do or not, is welcome to my organs once I leave this earth and go hang out with my Creator, who gave me those organs in the first place! But love wins, doesn't it, because those of us who choose to donate our organs, for instance, may never know (or, who knows? maybe we will) who gets our heart after we're not using it any more. I pray that my heart is worthy. 
     I've talked before about how, when I travel for work, (which is a bunch lately), I try to always tell the gate agents more than a grunt of "hello" as I scan my boarding pass. Instead, I try to remember to tell them that I hope they have an amazing day.  The smiles I get (and the surprise on their faces) is worth every brain cell it takes for me to remember to do that. And this morning, as I boarded my flight WAY too early in the morning (after being spoiled and getting to sleep in with Dave and the pups for the past week), one of the flight attendants saw me find my seat then wished me a happy birthday! Good beats bad every time! Thank you for those of you who read this blog. Your notes and responses truly lift me up. 
     I am traveling up to the North Dakota/Minnesota border to teach some administrators this week, and I am so very excited (and prepared, by the way, for the frigid temps of below zero one day) to spread the good news of what good teachers are doing and how good administrators can help them get even better and build relationships at the same time. 
      I pray that you have an eye for the good this week, and fight "bad" with "good".  We're building our legacy, minute by minute. Be prepared!
Happy Communicating,
​Shelly

     Sometimes, I actually feel silly for being so grateful for the things that make me so happy.  For instance, even though I didn't get upgraded on one of my flights home the other evening, there was an empty seat between me and the guy who was sitting by the window.  Sounds silly to even type it, but as soon as that boarding door shut, he and I both looked at each other with sly looks that clearly indicated we were not going to have to be squished together like bugs or have to jockey for the armrest. By the way, there needs to be a protocol to which everyone on planes adheres about armrests. If you have a middle seat, you are already packed in like a sardine. So why don't we aisle and window people give "middle seat guy" a break and give them the arm rest? But wait! If we do that, then they will end up with two armrests while window and aisle people would only get one.  Whaaaaat? That can't be right, can it?  But, really, why can't it?  (I'm so afraid this portion of my blog is going to get more traction than the point about being grateful). 
 
     I got home from Washington, DC on Wednesday night (late----I didn't get back home until midnight, and then I have to decompress for a few minutes by reading in bed before I can fall asleep).  I got to sleep in for just a bit on Thursday morning, but on Friday, I had to teach a webinar all day.  Saturday morning felt (I don't know another word to use except this one, so hang with me, please) "delicious", as I didn't have to get up for anything. I still can't stay in bed past a certain time of the morning (I refuse to state that time, or, once again, I fear my blog topic will morph into the proper wake-up times for "sleeping-in" days), but having the choice made so much difference in my world!  Curling up in our comfy bed with comforters, duvets, and lots of pillows (plus two Labs who allow us to sleep in the bed rent-free) just feels perfect after traveling almost every single week the last couple of months.  

     While I have been traveling, Dave has been perfecting the fine art of making banana bread. While we watched church from our bed this morning, I had hot chocolate and a piece of Dave's banana bread. It might be sinful, but I prefer to believe it was heaven sent, just as Dave is in the first place.  For his special recipe, you will have to take it up with him. I just want the loaves to keep coming.  It is truly divine, I can tell you that much! 

     While I am gone for work during so many weeks this fall, I frequently have found that there are so many times that I just miss the pups so very much. Dave is so great about sending me pictures or videos of LC chasing butterflies, or deer, or her latest need for a conquest ---- armadillos. She'll get near one; the armadillo goes down it's hole, then LC is beside herself wondering what in the world to do from there.  All the while, Kirby is doing his own thing---walking around urinating on bushes and trees to mark his territory.  They are just so much fun to watch.  

     Getting to read a book for pleasure has become one of my most highly coveted pastimes. Just because I am crazy busy does not keep me from reading a few pages to a couple of chapters every single night. What do I read? I love fiction dramas (Jodi Picoult and Chris Bohjalian are two of my favorite authors who tend to deal with current-even inspired ethical dilemmas), murder mysteries, legal thrillers and action/fast-paced novels of almost any type. I'm always open to hearing about your favorite authors in any of these authors or genres, by the way. Spending a few minutes at night before bedtime reading the current book I'm reading helps me relax (along with a couple of Twizzlers and a couple of caramel-filled Werther's) and might also help round out the craziness of the day's Uber drive to or from the airport or flight to or from a venue.
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     Simple pleasures?  Seems like it might be truly simple and almost just this side of trite. But I think, if looked at it another way, it's easy to see that viewing the simple things in life as gratitude builders helps me not get so wrapped around the axle about the little things that could become grains of sand that get inside my bathing suit.  I prefer the former, for sure. 
So, what is it for you? What are those little things that keep you from taking life too seriously?  Please share some with me! I would love to hear them!!  

Happy Communicating!
Shelly