45 Lessons

The following was written by Regina Brett, 90 years old, for The Plain Dealer, Cleveland , Ohio

To celebrate growing older, I once wrote the 45 lessons life taught me. It is the most requested column I've ever written. My odometer rolled over to 90 in August, so here is the column once more:

1. Life isn't fair, but it's still good.
2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.
3. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.
4. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends and parents will. Stay in touch.
5. Pay off your credit cards every month.
6. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.
7. Cry with someone. It's more healing than crying alone.
8. It's OK to get angry with God. He can take it.
9. Save for retirement starting with your first paycheck.
10. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.
11. Make peace with your past so it won't screw up the present.
12. It's OK to let your children see you cry.
13. Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.
14. If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn't be in it.
15. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. But don't worry; God never blinks.
16. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.
17. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.
18. Whatever doesn't kill you really does make you stronger.
19. It's never too late to have a happy childhood. But the second one is up to you and no one else.
20. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don't take no for an answer.
21. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie. Don't save it for a special occasion. Today is special.
22. Over prepare, then go with the flow.
23. Be eccentric now. Don't wait for old age to wear purple.
24. The most important sex organ is the brain.
25 No one is in charge of your happiness but you.
26. Frame every so-called disaster with these words 'In five years, will this matter?'
27 Always choose life.
28. Forgive everyone everything.
29. What other people think of you is none of your business.
30. Time heals almost everything. Give time time.
31. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.
32. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.
33. Believe in miracles.
34. God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or didn't do.
35. Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.
36. Growing old beats the alternative -- dying young.
37. Your children get only one childhood.
38. All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.
39. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere.
40. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd grab ours back.
41. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.
42. The best is yet to come.
43. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.
44. Yield.
45. Life isn't tied with a bow, but it's still a gift.

My Perfect Day

There was a lady I used to work with that would proudly say her favorite day of the year was hands-down her birthday. No question about it. To me, that was amazing as so many of my own birthdays have been, shall we say, less than stellar.

At least, not until this year.

It started out as any other day... getting up just before my alarm goes off, getting ready for work and so on. You know, The Usual Thing. There were no cards or banners or little notes tucked anywhere for me to find, so I thought to myself, "Here we go again..."

But then again, maybe not.

As I slipped behind the steering wheel of my car, I found a birthday card from DH. Not just any birthday card either. It was a birthday card dripping with sweetness and lovey-dovey-ness and [insert a huge smile here] a wrapped dark chocolate Dove bar. SCORE! Be still my birthday-girl heart!

Let me tell you, nothing... nothing... could have wiped the grin off my face from then on. I was one happy camper. And, the cool thing was, my day just kept being great. I had the usual birthday treat of my co-workers singing "Happy Birthday" and getting balloons and candy... made all the more special because my friend 'B' happened to be in the lobby and was able to join in with the singing. I got a Harley Davidson mug with a tootsie-pop bouquet tucked inside from one of my BFFs... with the craziest colored suckers I've ever seen to boot!

It was a really great day at work. All the work went smoothly, customers came in specifically to wish me a happy birthday. It was just... well, perfect.

When I got home, DH and DD sang to me and presented me with a double batch of rice krispy treats (which is what I wanted in lieu of a cake), the Harley Davidson jacket I'd thought was still in special-order shipment la-la land... and a pair of diamond earrings! Can I hear an "Amen, Sistah!"??? Yep... I was in present nirvana...

I checked my Facebook page and had birthday wish after birthday wish waiting for me. Cool beans. And one of my dearest friends EVER was online and I got to chat with her. Awesome. We were even able to make plans to spend a girl's weekend together. Un-freakin-believable!

While I was finishing up online, I got a call from the local florist making sure I was home for a flower delivery. You betcha!

Seriously, can this day get any better?!

So, then DH, DD and I decided to spend the rest of the day hanging out in the 'big city' just south of us. First, we went to the hardware store for something DH needed, and I saw the bright yellow watering can I've been daydreaming about all summer... the last one on the shelf, I might add... and so I decided to splurge (with it being my birthday and all) and went ahead and bought it. Next, we had to go return some items at another store, and I found two books that I'd been wanting... and bought them as well. So, while I was on a roll, I had DH take me to a media store thinking maybe I could find one other book on my wish list... and I did. And another one I'd forgotten about wanting... and it was even marked way down. So I brought both of them home with me, too.

I swear, at that point I felt like I'd drank an entire bottle of Felix Felicis or something. (That reference won't make a bit of sense to all you non-Potter heads... sorry!)

Then, out of all the places I wanted to have my birthday dinner at, the one place I was craving was... McDonald's! I know it sounds crazy, but since we don't have ready access to one where we live, it really is a guilty indulgence... so that's where we went.

After we got back home, I got calls from my brother, my sister in law and my mom. It was great visiting with them and telling them all about my day.

DH and I topped off the day by taking a ride on our Harley with our neighbors. The weather was wonderful, the company was even better and the sunset was glorious.

And that was My Perfect Day.

A Bouquet of Sharpened Pencils

"Don't you love New York in the fall? It makes me wanna buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address."
- Joe Fox to Kathleen Kelly

I just love that quote from "You've Got Mail". And this time of year, it's hard not to have that line running through my mind as DD sharpens her entire box of pencils before tucking them in her backpack in expectation of the first day of school.

But school supplies are not the same these days. No way, Jose. You can hardly turn around in Target without seeing a newer, better... dare I say designer... version of spiral-bound notebooks or pocket folders by people like Ed Hardy.

Seriously. Whatever happened to good ol' Pee Chee folders? Anyone remember them? Heck, I felt like I'd won the lottery when my mom let us pick those out instead of the plain colored store brand. DD would scoff at having to carry something as boring as a pee chee. She'd have to drop out from the shame of it.

Jesus is Living in Our Kitchen

It's true. Jesus is in our kitchen. Right now. As in while I type this.

Okay, okay, you can stop worrying that I am off some sort of medication or have had a stroke. It's nothing like that. Jesus is a praying mantis that has somehow made his way into our kitchen. And into our lives.

While a normal family would try to A) catch it and take it back outside, or B) smush it in a tissue and flush it down the toilet, alas, we are not a normal family. Not even close.

Last summer we had a very large spider take up residence in between our interior kitchen window and the sorry excuse of a storm window we have. We named him "Spidey" and it was always cause for celebration when some bug would find it's way into Spidey's web. We'd call out to everyone in the house, "Come quick! He's gonna get another one!" And that would be our entertainment for the next half hour or so. Sure, there was a big ol' creep factor involved with the thought that Spidey might one day find his way inside the house, but as long as he was controlling the bug population before it could come inside he was a welcome addition to the family. May his hairy legs rest in peace.

This year, there is no Spidey in residence. Instead, there is Jesus the praying mantis. (Get the humor there, folks?) While I'm not thrilled that he is on the inside of the glass, I am more than happy to allow him to dine on all the creepy crawlies that attempt to invade through our sad-sack old windows.

Aren't we so... special?


Blogger's note added Sunday, August 2, 2009:

This morning we had to say goodbye to Jesus. I found him suffering on the kitchen window sill after what must have been a David and Goliath-esque battle with a spider. Or would it have been more like Godzilla vs. Mothra? A question for the ages...

*sniff sniff*

We will miss you Jesus.

The Long and Short of It

Why is it some women have this strange urge to grow their hair out? And then, just when it gets longer, we have this strange urge to cut it shorter again? It's something akin to a sport for some of us, I swear.

I had long, long hair when I was a little girl. At least I did until my brother decided to play "Barbershop" when we were staying at my grandma's house one weekend. Thankfully, he had barely started in with a pair of those little-kid safety scissors before grandma walked in the room and stopped him. Of course, that didn't change the fact that he'd already successfully hacked a big chunk out of the hair on the back of my head.

Let's just say my mother was less than amused. She washed and brushed out my hair one last time, had my dad take me to Sears for one last picture of me with my long hair (since the front still looked unscathed) and then had it all cut off in what was probably supposed to look like a Dorothy Hamill cut. Trust me, I never felt like I would be twirling on ice with that haircut. To this day, I still think of the term 'bowl haircut' when I see me with that hairdo. Ugh.

Ironically, that was the beginning of many years of growing my hair out long and then chopping it all off again. And again. And... well... again.

I always want what I don't have. Like curly hair. I got more permanent waves in my lifetime than I care to admit to. A few even made me look remarkably like Chaka Khan. Just in case you are wondering, it was not an attractive look for a short, chubby white girl.

Now, on the verge of 39, I still cannot figure out what the heck I want my hair to look like. The angst usually starts after a bad hair cut. I kind of go on strike, I guess you'd say. I decide to just grow it all back out and pull it back in a pony tail every day. Quick. Easy. Not very flattering, mind you, but efficient nonetheless.

And then I get the urge. The Urge. Like now. I have it, and bad. I want to get a style. Something that just screams SASSY! The problem is, I never know what that style is.

So, this time I hatched a plan: I took pictures of two hairstyles I couldn't choose between, and then asked a bunch of the ladies from work yesterday. I kept the running tally a secret from them until after they had voted. One girl was outright shocked that I'd actually get whichever style got the most votes. And, maybe it is a tiny bit crazy. But if you think about it, these people see me day in and day out... they should have a pretty good sense of who I am and what I could pull off. Right?

Monday is my appointment. And I'm ready! SASSY hair... here I come! Wish me luck!

Reality Check

The following post is actually from one of the many e-mail forwards I get. E-mail forwards are a huge pet peeve of mine, especially the ones that predict doom and bad fortune if not sent to 20 people in the next 5 minutes. But, once in a blue moon or two, I actually find something entertaining or worthwhile amidst the stinkers.

This one was entitled, “To All the Kids Who Survived the 1930’s, 40’s, 50’s, 60’s and 70’s.” Kind of catchy in a run-on, incomplete sentence way, wouldn’t you say? Yeah, I didn’t think so either. Personally, I think it should be called something like this:

“Here’s a Reality Check for the Younger Generations”

First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked or drank alcohol (or both!) while they were pregnant.

They took aspirin, ate blue cheese dressing, tuna from a can and didn’t get tested for diabetes.

Then, after that unspeakable trauma, we were put to sleep on our tummies in baby cribs covered with bright colored lead-based paints with slats far enough apart for us to get our chubby arms and legs in between.

We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, locks on doors or cabinets, and when we rode our bikes, we had baseball caps on instead of helmets on our heads.

As infants and children, we would ride in cars with no car seats, no booster seats, no seat belts, no air bags, bald tires and sometimes no brakes. (I even remember riding on my dad’s lap while he drove down the interstate… good fun.)

Riding in the back of a pickup truck on a warm day was always a special treat… sometimes even sitting on the open tailgate.

We drank water from a garden hose and not from a bottle.

We shared one soft drink with four friends from one bottle and no one actually died from it.

We ate cupcakes, white bread, real butter and bacon and we drank Kool-Aid made with real white sugar… and we weren’t overweight. Why? Because we were always outside playing!

We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the streetlights came on.

No one was able to reach us all day, because we didn’t have cell phones. And we were okay.

We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps and then ride them down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. After running into the bushes a few times, we learned to solve the problem.

We did not have video games, no 150 channels on cable, no DVDs, no surround sound or CDs, no cell phones, no personal computers, no internet or chat rooms. Instead, we had friends and we went outside and found them.

We fell out of trees, got cuts, broke bones and knocked out teeth and there were no lawsuits from these accidents.

We ate worms and mud pies made from dirt and the worms did not live in us forever.

We were given BB guns for our 10th birthdays, made up games with sticks and tennis balls and we did not put out everyone’s eyes no matter what our mothers told us.

We rode bikes or walked to a friend’s house and knocked on the door or rang the bell.

Little league had tryouts and not everyone made the team. Those who didn’t had to learn to deal with disappointment. And those who did learned that the losing teams didn’t get trophies, too.

When we got a little older, the idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law. Image that!

These generations have produced some of the best risk-takers, problem solvers and inventors ever. We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned how to deal with it all.

If YOU are one of them… congratulations!

Kind of makes you want to run through the house with scissors, doesn’t it?

Slug Bug!

Tonight, as we were heading home from a nice family night together, we started talking about ways we can make our upcoming family road trip a bit more... um... 'interactive' shall we say? You know, something to make the miles fly by a little more quickly. I, for one, suggested the good old-fashioned game of 'slug bug'. DD's reply was, "What the heck is a slug bug?!" Obviously, I have not raised her right. I'm so very sorry.

Apparently the new version of the game is called 'cruiser bruiser' since there are far more PT Cruisers on the road these days than VW bugs. Ohhhhh. I am soooooo last Tuesday when it comes to car games, I guess. Pardon me.

DH chimed in and said, "What about pop-eye and ultimate pop-eye?" For those of you not in-the-know about this game, you shout "Pop-eye!" and hit the dash when you see a vehicle with one headlight out. Or, if it happens to be a police vehicle, then it counts as an 'ultimate' pop eye. Whoopie-twang!

At this point, DH and I lost ourselves talking about some of the stupid things we did with our friends back when we were first driving. Like chinese fire-drills. And having to pay a forfeit of some sort if we said 'left' or 'right' instead of 'Luigi' or 'Ralph'. My favorite was having to lift your feet off the floor and put your finger on a screw head, yelling "Peanut butter!" every time you drove over a railroad track. Obviously, as teens we were easily entertained. Not much has changed, either.

So, my question to you all is this: what car games did you play when you were younger? Or still play, for that matter. License plate poker? I-spy? Twenty questions? What did you do to make the time go by? I'd love to hear your stories...