| Me receiving counseling from paid professionals. [Universal] |
| Therapy from the mouths of babes |
| How is everyone doing so far this December? I am holding on by a fraying string of lights. I had a week off for Thanksgiving, and then, sadly, my grandma died. She was 95 and went peacefully, surrounded by those who loved her. She was the best, kind and funny and seriously smart, the nucleus of a large extended family who wandered into her home every day to say hi. She really was the most popular lady. I was so lucky to have her in my life for almost 40 years. I wouldn't have missed her service for anything, so I turned around and flew to the Cleveland area. My husband and I took Frontier, which has a business model of keeping ticket prices low but charging passengers for the air in front of them. We decided to pack only necessary belongings into our free "personal item," clinging to a misdirected principle of justice. This was super dumb, because we got to CLEVELAND in DECEMBER with NO COATS. Thankfully, my cousin hooked me up with a loaner. I had the honor of writing my grandma's eulogy. The delivery went well, no notes. It was the Before and After that requires, ahem, some notes. Here's how it went: When I saw my name in the program, my mom nudged me to go up. So, I ascended the altar at the Catholic church. As I stood at the lectern about to speak into the microphone, the priest said, "LET US PRAY" and the whole room stood up. There I was, standing NEXT TO THE PRIEST with kind of a hangy-mouthed derp face. I panicked and shuffled off the altar like Homer Simpson hiding in a bush. The priest said, "Please be seated," so I was seated because I love rules. Then everyone stared at me in the seat, because I wasn't supposed to be seated, just everyone else. SO, I HUSTLED MY CONFUSED BUTT BACK UP THERE. When I was done reading, I breathed a sigh of relief, said "thank you," then promptly tripped off the altar steps, doing one of those stumbles forward where your only goal is to avoid falling face down and breaking your teeth. A little song, a little dance, a little seltzer down the pants. At the luncheon, I lost count of how many people said good job, except for tripping. With love, of course. This will follow me until I am called up yonder. Anyway, I'm home but feeling a little worse for the wear. Flying, rapid temperature change, emotional ping-pong, Three Stooges banana peel routine and more has taken a toll, and I just want to nap. Maybe you are dealing with similar life challenges. If so, here's a suggestion. Have you heard of Peptoc? It's an art project from students at West Side Elementary in California, a phone number to call and get a free pep talk from the students. It is so pure. The number is (707) 998-8410; I promise this is legit and not a shady psychic hotline from the 1990s. There are several options for comfort, and you should hear them for yourself. But here are a few excerpts that I found particularly soothing: "If you're nervous, go get your wallet and spend it on ice cream and shoes."
"If you're frustrated, you can always go to your bedroom, punch a pillow or cry on it and just go scream outside."
"You are OK." "Don't give up. Power through." "The world is a better place with you in it." |
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