Wishing You The Merriest -

Christmas 2024 was going to be my year to send cards to so very many people, and I admire the stack of cards from loved ones who have been so vigilant over the years. 

And yet - this year I made 3 large batches of Chex Party Mix, delivered loads of Walker Seasoning, made multiple loaves of zucchini, banana, and pear (new favorite) bread, sewed, spent time with children, grandchildren, and siblings, exercised with friends, and watched Christmas specials with Scott, rather than order, address, and send cards. 

That's good news, actually! Being in the moment, doing things that take longer than 60 minutes to complete is brand new for me - it's been more than 30 years since I've had time to spend more than an hour here and there on a project. And this isn't "stolen" time, but actual time I have, the only thing lost has been the Holiday cards. 

A year ago I was so very stressed - chaplaining at Utah Valley Hospital, counseling with my Wren House Counseling practice, and just trying to make it through one day at a time. When I decided last November that I would retire in May of 2024, I was determined to not check off each day marking down the days until retirement, rather, live each day to the fullest, which worked, until I really did burn out and knew May 3 could come none to soon. 

Scott and I planted our garden and flower beds and headed off to Scotland, England, Wales for three weeks of gloriousness - celebrating our 65th and 75th birthdays, our 20th wedding anniversary, and my retirement. An amazing time discovering the Lake District, Wales, Cornwall, the Dales and Shires of central England, York, Hadrian's Wall, and revisiting beloved Edinburgh. Sadly, we did not come home rested - Scott was sick the last ten days of our trip and stayed that way for nearly a month, and I picked up some kind of hitch-hiker that clawed into my left shoulder and didn't let go for more than 4 months. However, even with these souvenirs, we had an absolutely lovely time in the damp, in the sun, in the cities and in the country. Penzance was a favorite as was York, and we look forward to returning to spend more time in Wales - what a surprise to see how stunning this area is. 

After this time away, we came home to replant our garden, catch up on clients, attend grandchildren's sporting events, and love love love our gorgeous yard and deck. Sitting on the deck during breakfast and after evening meals became a tradition, soaking in the ever-changing view of Mt. Timpanogos (She is my role model), watching the squirrels and bluejays battle it out over peanuts on the fence post; savoring, rather than rushing. 

We stayed home until mid-August when I was blessed to spend two weeks with my three sisters in Sweden and Denmark. Scott and I had visited four years earlier, and I could not wait to share this homeland with my sisters. My mom decided she wanted time with us as well, and we definitely felt her spirit, and those of many of our ancestors, as we traveled the countries of our heritage. A once in a lifetime experience which has drawn us closer to each other and given us plenty of things to talk about and reminisce on - including great pastries, delicious licorice, shopping, the best laughs, lots of wrong turns, and heart-felt words. 

Scott was able to spend a week of this time in Cedar City with his son, Daniel, visiting local sites, reminiscing, as well as going to the Mountain Meadows area; Scott loves Mormon history and being able to see this area was a touching time for him. 

As I got on the plane in Copenhagen to fly home, I received a text from Scott telling me he was so very sick. And upon arriving home, he was down, again, with CoVid. This time adding bronchitis to the mix. 

As soon as he was mostly healed we got the wild-hair that we needed to relandscape our yard - seeing Scott down at the beginning and end of summer was enough to know it was necessary to make the upkeep of our yard as simple and pain-free as possible. So - we hired (best decision ever) a team to pull out our grass, sprinkler system, concrete curbing, and redo all of this (keeping most of our three
year old flower beds). And - drum roll, finally a contractor who kept with his committed schedule - four weeks later the grass was in, and our yard is stunning! 

A month later we were on our third annual trip to Hawaii, this time our second to Kona. Magical is all I have to say. How amazing to be there this year knowing I wasn't cutting short vacation days (did I mention I used up all of my vacation, leaving Intermountain with only 2.5 hours of PTO - my goal), worrying about patients and colleagues or what emergency, real or imagined, I'd be facing when I got back home. Scott and I enjoyed the beaches, watching sea turtles, viewing the sunrises and sunsets, eating fresh pineapple and mango, and spending time walking Ali'i Drive every morning and evening, as well as drives to various small towns and villages on the island. And - I snorkeled! A dream of mine I never really thought would happen. Several hours in the water at Captain Cook (Pu'uhonua o Hōnaunau NHP) snorkeling in the crystal blue water was better than I could have imagined. 

We came home refreshed, and healthy, and dove right into holiday events - concerts, plays, family time, giving thanks for all we have. 

Several folks have asked me how retirement is - I'm delighted to be self-employed, not sure if I will ever be fully retired. My counseling practice is going great - Wren House Counseling, and I love helping folks heal or at least see a way forward. If you, or one you love, is in need of help, I would love to help you. I keep me fees low and my energy high; I do face to face as well as long-distance counseling. 

We have plenty to keep us happily engaged, and yet we never forget that our blessings are truly gifts not to be taken for granted. I am grateful for my own therapy and medicine that has allowed me to resolve past hurts and deep regrets, and move forward with little baggage, finally, at nearly 66, carrying a small handbag rather than a potato sack of grief, guilt, cultural angst, and the never-ending need to be bigger, better, more. I am re-learning how to laugh outloud, how to play, how to sit, and how to seek out "awe" any and every where. Whew! 

We are so grateful for amazing children and grandchildren who invite us into their lives, for good friends who enjoy great conversation, good food, and ankle-deep nonsense, and for each other - time together is a reminder of how sweet this stage of life can really be. 

Happy Holidays to all - Ronda and Scott

Eleanor and Mom -

One of my summer desires was to make peace with my mom, who died the end of June, 2022. Toward the end of July I was sitting on the deck in our back yard, meditating on mom, and out of nowhere I saw the font of a manual typewriter go click click click across my mind spelling out "E l e a n o r  N o b l e." I don't know anyone named Eleanor, and I wondered why Mom wanted me to have this name. 

I had a free day, and I figured I'd use my time pondering who Eleanor is and what the connection was, yet Mom said to me, "Make cookies, Cowboy Chocolate Chip cookies." I haven't made cookies in probably ten years, and yet Mom wanted action rather than contemplation, and so I made cookies and shared them with several neighbors, just as she would have. 

Over the next couple of weeks I searched the FamilySearch database for an Eleanor in our family tree, none. I did a generic FamilySearch search to no avail. I researched online for this name, found a darling picture of two young girls in cotton dresses with braids, and felt a warmth, like I was on the right path, but could only find a tribute to a father who had been in the service with a short story accompanying this. 

My 3 sisters and I have been planning a trip to Sweden and Denmark, our mother-land, mid-August, and so I wondered if there may be a connection there. I searched Eleanor Noble and Sweden and BAM! There she was - kind of. I found an obituary listing a son in Gothenberg, Sweden. 

As I read Eleanor's obituary I saw very little in common with my mother; Eleanor grew up on the East Coast, is Catholic, had a nursing profession. However, in looking at the photo chosen for Eleanor's obituary, she looks just like the woman my mom would be friends with. And that picture of two young girls in cotton dresses? It accompanied the obituary. Even as I'm typing this month's later, I have goose-bumps and tingles, knowing she is Mom's Eleanor. 

After finding the obituary and Eleanor, I asked Mom, "What do you want me to do, know, about Eleanor?" And her answer was a very Alice Ann Jensen Walker answer. "I wanted you to know I have a friend! And she has a son in Gothenberg, isn't that lovely?" Mom and Eleanor, somewhere in the heavens, met each other and became friends. And were my sisters and I supposed to track down this son and meet him? "No, I just wanted you to know." Again, a Mom answer.

That's it; Mom wanted us to know she had a friend, they were happy, she has a son in Sweden (Mom loved making connections). 

I shared this story with my sisters while in the airport waiting to catch our flight. They likewise thought it was definitely a Mom experience. While on our absolutely amazing, beyond words, fantastic two week trip, my sisters and I occasionally felt Mom and perhaps, Eleanor, but no more promptings, no more visits. She just needed to share. Sweetly Mom. Eleanor, today, I'm grateful you two found each other and have a friendship, I look forward to meeting you. 

Since then, until this morning when I felt prompted to write this story down, I've felt peace with my mom, an awareness that she is happy, she is safe, she has friends, especially Eleanor. And thank you both for the Thanksgiving morning warmth.

(A caveat - while in Denmark, my sister wanted to attend The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints temple in Copenhagen, and do a session for a family name [her husband's family], and the name that she brought with her, yet hadn't paid much attention to prior to the designated day, was Eleanor. No connection except the name, just a tingle of recognition of Mom and her friend.)

Mental Illness - World Mental Health Day -

 I shop Natural Life when I need color and something boho. Which is often. I like the vitality and vibrancy that comes with all they sell, including their cute tool boxes. 

As well as selling wanna-be hippi clothes, they post a daily thought through their Daily Chirp email list and on social media. They are as life-affirming as their clothing. 

Life Mottos - Enough Already!

Been thinking about this phrase, "We Rise by Lifting Others," often attributed to Amanda Gorman, yet originated with Robert Ingersoll. 

Call it Karma, good intentions, manipulation, golden rule, it is something I believe in and have attempted to practice all of my life. 

This has been my motto for the last several years of me life, besides the statement, "We're all just walking each other home." This has been essential as I've worked with those living, dying, and trying to live, in the hospital. It's not my story - it's my patient's and client's, and I have given my very best to hold hands with my clients and listen to them as they've walked their paths while in the hospital and beyond. 

Perhaps my most powerful set of rules to live by is a series of three statements I created way back when I was in my teens - "Be Fair, Be True, Do No Harm." These have guided everything, and I mean everything, I've done in my life. Maybe the most poignant and powerful example of this is when I divorced twenty years ago. While I wanted out of my marriage, I really truly did not want to hurt my ex or my children. Of course, we all had wounds, but these were not given intentionally, and I have worked so hard to live my life doing no harm and carrying no harm. 

I've always felt a thrill of adventure and, "I Dwell in Possiblity" by Emily Dickenson has given me the push/guilt to always reach for more, be excited for the next . . . . I'm tired! 

However - always the caveat - these past four years have been so very very hard. And while I've lifted others, journeyed with others, and been fair, true, and not hurtful, I've realized I have hurt myself. All the emotions of hurt, rejection, fear, anger, anxiousness, betrayal, frustration, and more I have either pushed aside or swallowed. I've worked through many situations that have caused these emotions, but I haven't been very good about giving myself the grace necessary to heal. 

I have spent most of my life making sure others felt valued and accepted, giving out, and yet struggling to reach in. For some reason I've felt like if I could do more, be more, have more (education, experience, property), I could prove to "whomever" that I was of value, that I did have worth, and then all the profound hurt I've felt would leave. 

This past weekend, while trying to get some of my ya'ya's out of me, I realized, again, I don't need anything more. I AM ENOUGH! I am good enough, good enough, good enough. I have reached my "Rest and Be Thankful" summit and now I can settle into the peace this journey can give me as I savor the beauty around me. 

My statue of Quan Yin sits on my night stand, relaxed, eyes gazing on the open lily she holds in her hand needs to be that reminder to relax, look at where I've been, what I've done, and relish this time of peace. 

I've written these thoughts so many times, they're on my mind constantly, yet my affirmation for the time-being is this - ENOUGH, enjoy what I have, enjoy where I'm at, and settle. 

Enough. 

Vigil of Remembrance - Blessing -

I was asked to give a blessing at tonight's Vigil of Remembrance, honoring those who died during the CoVid pandemic. I had a difficult time finding words to fit into the 5-7 minute time frame I was given. So I stopped at 3.5 minutes, and I feel pretty good about it. 

I recently retired as a chaplain for Intermountain Health, working during CoVid times at Utah Valley and Intermountain Medical Center, supporting caregivers, those dying (or surviving), and their families and friends. (These days I have a private counseling practice, often helping others journey through their own stories, their own illnesses, their own suffering.)

I’ve kept a blog for the past 12 years. On Jan 6, 2022, I wrote:

Over the past 2 years I have witnessed more than 100 hospital deaths.

And my role, really, when it's all said and done, is incidental. I don't administer medications, monitor oxygen levels, deliver feedings, change sheets. I stand quietly, always available, always out of the way - I like to think that I am the defender of their story, the one who is present, who sees the entire story unfold, and validates - the dead, the living, the caregivers, and the real events, not statistics. 

This evening I honor those stories, shared, and not, spoken, and held deep inside one’s heart. Stories of valor, honor, defeat, exhaustion, coming together, tearing apart, surviving, dying, hurting, carrying, remembering.

I bless those caregivers who woke up each morning not sure what they would be facing at work, and then walked with faith and love as they cared for those dying and their families. And then went home and cared for theirs. Blessed are the ones who bore witness and hold these stories close to their hearts.

I bless those families and friends who spent days and nights in the worst world ever – that of the unknown, anxiously pacing floors distances away from their dying loved ones, hopeful and fearful each time the phone rang with an update, and questioning their faith in doctors, medicine, Higher Power, and feeling helpless when being helpful was their go-to. Blessed are those who loved and lost and continue to love.

I bless those who passed away from CoVid without being able to have any last words, hugs, kisses, hand-holds. Blessed are they, for surely they did not die alone.

I bless those who boldly, timidly, bravely, exhaustingly, respectfully, cleaned bodies, buried other’s sons and daughters, husbands and wives, parents, and then went home and cared for the living among them.

I bless those of us who are still reeling from these memories; wounds can take years to heal, and CoVid fears are still all around us. May we be blessed to remember our people and find our place of belonging in this time of longing.  I bless their stories live on in all of us. I bless that we all may find light and love in the past, in the present, and as we move forward into the tomorrows we are blessed to have.

Receive this blessing. It’s for you. Then pray it for someone else.

The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make His face shine upon you,
and be gracious to you; the Lord lift up His countenance upon you, and give you peace. Amen

Numbers 6:24-26

 

Vigil of Remembrance - 9/09/24

You're invited - 

 

No more angles, only curves -

 I've had several chances to journey into my inner-consciousness this past year. Although I've uncovered so very much, I want to focus on that of my title - No More Angles, Only Curves. 

This picture has been one of my favorites since it first came out in the New Yorker in May, 2000 (I loved this so much I purchased 5 copies of the magazine, just to have this cover). So rich, and so sad. I wanted to be both! The earth-mother: voluptuous, nurturing, flowing, rich. I also wanted the business woman's life: refined, tight, precise, fitted. 

At the time, I saw the business woman looking at the mother with disdain and fear, as if she'd catch whatever she had if she moved any closer - "Ooh, keep those children away from me; I cannot have them getting graham crackers/dirty hands/snot/spit-up on this one-of-a-kind custom-tailored dress." I saw earth-mother looking slyly at the working woman with a sneaking suspicion that she had it better, had more, yet had a sinister secret, "Oh you poor soul, you know you want what I have, I dare you to touch one of my babies." 

I was going through boxes of years of files earlier this summer, when this print popped from the folder marked "Articles, 2000," and forced me to pause. Just days before I was decluttering, I was meditating when the thought came to me that I was out of my peaks and canyons, pinched, angled, sharp, cold, business'ed phase, and moving into my curves, rolling hills and voluptuous valleys, softer, cushier, flowing, let-it-be phase. 

This May 2024, Ronda saw the picture quite differently than the May 2000, Ronda did. Nurturing, to self and others, the ability to be in two places, live two lives, care for two very distinctly different lifestyles, while yearning for what the other has, knowing the time and season is not theirs. 

And with that - I realized I truly have had all the experiences, emotions, roles, encounters I dared to dream I could possibly have. In the early 90's I had a powerful nurturing amazingly talented woman once tell me, as a young mother trying to go to school, build a home, rear children, and save a floundering marriage while also being an active member of the community and church - "You can have it all, Ronda, you just can't have it all right now." I have, loving them equally. 

I'm very much looking forward - it's been a tough journey these past 15 years, and while I've given it my all, my very best, in fact - all of me; I'm finished the angles, sharps, pointed, pinching. I've had it with bureaucracy, corporate America, patriarchy, and stereotypes that have served a part of me well and yet closed another part of me right off (more of that later). I'm enjoying the curves, rolls, wanderings, creating my own windy path, choosing who I want to travel with and where I want to go - maybe even pushing a baby carriage (or hitting a golf ball) with a grandchild or ten.