It’s my birthday – the first thing I did was feed my pets. I’m grateful for the dogs and cat I have, and they really have enriched my life. I am especially grateful for Mitzi- my first dog, the pup that turned me into a dog person. She takes good care of me.

The second thing I did was go outside…and the sun is out! I have been lamenting the fact we have not seen the sun in weeks. I’m so grateful for a sunny day!!

The azaleas are blooming out front – I stopped and looked at them for a few minutes. Their vivid pink amazes me – it seems too bright to be a natural color. I’m grateful for the abundance of beauty all around me.

I got on my rebounder to exercise – I am acutely aware of how blessed I am to be alive and well. I am grateful for the ability to take care of this body that has been given to me. I have lost many friends over the years – friends that I loved, who never got to celebrate this particular birthday. Today I am grateful for the time I got to spend with them. I miss them.

I’m going to church this morning – I’m teaching Sunday school, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to share what God has done in my life. Then I’m going to sing in choir, and I am blessed beyond measure to be able to worship God freely.

I have heard from many friends and family already, greeting me and wishing me well. I’m thankful for children and my grandchildren- I’m blessed to be the mother of four, a stepmom, and a Nana of five (and one more due in September). My cup overflows.

After church, I’m going to a wedding for a dear friend. I love going to weddings, especially now that I am married to my beloved husband. I don’t take him for granted – he was my third chance at happiness, and he is a wonderful spouse, friend, and father. Today as I listen to my friend recite her vows, I know I’ll be reflecting on the 12 years I’ve been with my husband.

It’s my birthday – a day of reflection for me. New Years never brought resolutions for me. My birthday has always been a day for me to reflect on where I’ve been, where I am, and where I’d like to be.

It’s a day to realize how blessed I am. There are so many things I have overcome, and I am acutely aware of them. I remember the hard times. The hard years! I am grateful that I walked through. I hope I keep my perspective.

Of course, I have to thank my parents – without them, none of this would be possible!!

When I was a child, I learned early on when spring was coming. It wasn’t in the soft, warm winds that would begin to blow gently, cutting through the chill, or in the lengthening of days. It was when I was in the car with my dad, and he’d suddenly exclaim “Redbud!”

I have to admit, this made no sense when I was a very small child. He would be gesturing out the window, and I would neither see anything “red” nor “bud”. Just the blur of bare trees and evergreens lining the road.

Eventually I figured out what he was pointing at – a blur of delicate purplish pink blossoms, standing out in stark contrast to the bare grey or dark green trees around it. Sometimes the tree was barely a wisp, but on a grey day, it meant spring was coming.

As I got older, into my middle school years, it became a challenge to see who saw the redbud first. I would be scouring the scenery, looking for any sign of the pale frothy flowers in bloom. Of course now I had the advantage, because I knew what I was looking for, and Daddy was concentrated on driving. But it was a win for both of us when the first redbud was spotted, and it never ceased to lift our spirits.

In the Southeast, following in bloom after the redbud, are the delicate white or pink dogwood trees. Driving down two lane roads with redbud and dogwoods blooming, it would strike one speechless.

It’s been a long, grey, and dismal winter here in the Southeast. I can’t remember a winter where the sun rarely made an appearance for months. We are accustomed to mild sunny days, and a few cold, sunny weeks.

Today, as I was leaving my neighborhood, a flash of colorful petals caught my eye. I pulled my car to a stop, and snapped a picture. Redbud!

I just sent that picture to daddy. His response?

“It’s Spring!!”

Three years ago, I ran a 10k. Then I got up the next day and ran a half marathon.

My newsfeed shows me pictures from the WDW Glass Slipper Challenge.

Little did I know I had l LADA (latent autoimmune diabetes of adulthood), and within 18 months of that event, I would be on insulin for the rest of my life.

You can get insulin dependent diabetes anytime. It used to be called juvenile diabetes – and to this day, most people I meet assume I am a type 2 diabetic because I was diagnosed type 2 eight years ago.

That erroneous diagnosis got me eating healthy, and turned me into a runner. Yes, the girl who hated gym in high school, and who hated to exercise, became a half marathoner – and on this weekend three years ago, ran 19.3 miles in two days.

The whole time, my immune system was attacking my pancreas. I bought myself extra time with the healthy choices I made, but eventually my pancreas was overwhelmed.

I’m grateful beyond words that that for over 4 decades diabetes was not in my vocabulary. I have not had to live the bulk of my life with this disease.

There is still a part of me in mourning, however. I see the photo of me with no insulin pump or CGM (continuous glucose monitor) on me, and I remember when I could exercise with no worries of having my sugar bottom out.

I could eat without calculating carbs and ratios beforehand on my medical devices.

The stubborn resistance to the false type 2 diagnosis got me off the couch.

The reality of being type 1 will prompt me onward, and I will find a way to run half marathons again.

I know I’m capable.

I’ve proven it over and over.

One benefit of living in Florida is the resident rates we get on the major amusement parks in the state.

For many years, we would go to Disney World once or twice a year. We stayed on campus, packaging our hotel, food, and tickets. We saved and paid cash for our four days in the park.

Slowly, steadily, the prices began a sharp upswing. Hotel rates doubled or tripled, park ticket passes doubled.

Downtown Disney, which was a fun area of Disney based shopping, along with great food options, became transformed into Disney Springs. High end shopping has taken over – stores we never step into, due to out of reach pricing, line the sidewalks as you enter. It became a chore to find our favorite Disney stores.

We loved going to Disney World, and we had our favorite rides. Due to frequent overcrowding, Disney restructured their “fast pass” system, to allow one to pick three rides to ride per day.

It made things infinitely worse. Not only could we not ride our favorite rides – the “choices” given would only include one or two favorites – the lines for the popular rides were hours long.

Not surprisingly, the famous great service by cast members began to suffer. When we first started going to WDW 15 years ago, it was a true escape, a happy place, full of fun and relaxation.

Now, it’s expenses from parking to food to accommodations has made it unreachable to average folks. We live a comfortable life – we refuse to put ourselves in debt for a few days of walking around, packed like lemmings, missing our favorite rides, paying to park on campus,and spending more time standing in line in the heat.

I know this post will not sway the Disney junkies. I used to be one – but I refuse to spend the ridiculous prices.

I also know for average families, a trip to WDW has gone beyond something to save for, and they are going deep into debt to have a Disney vacation.

We used to joke that Disney is aiming at the rich for customers.

It’s not a joke anymore.

Based on what we’ve seen, soon the uber wealthy will be the only ones able to enjoy the parks.

We have a lot of great memories.

We miss Walt Disney – the man.

His dream for Disney World is a thing of the past.

I recently taught a class on dealing with stress. In the spirit of practice what you preach, I am working on healing myself.

Until I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes 18 months ago, I was running half marathons. I had gone from completely sedentary to healthy eating, and training to run races.

Since my diagnosis, my blood sugar has been tanking when I run. I am trying a lot of options to make it work. It’s frustrating.

I knew one thing – I can run a 5k. So I set the goal of running 5k races.

Today I ran a 5k. On the sand, no less! I got it done, with stable blood sugar. It wasn’t my best time, but I finished. I had fun. Those are my two goals for any race!

I want to run half marathons, and I am hopeful I figure out this blood sugar thing.

In the mean time, I have an 8k trail Run next weekend.

One small, measurable goal at a time.

I’ll get there.

Six years ago, I was in New Orleans for the Color Run.

I went with a group of coworkers and friends, and some spouses attended, including mine.

The run was fun, joyous, and a great celebration of fun and friendship.

New Orleans was awesome as always – great food, great times, great people.

It was a good memory to file away.

Or so I thought.

On April 3 of that year, I had a miscarriage. My only lost child – and it was devastating. It was an unexpected blessing, followed too soon by a crushing loss.

The weekend after I lost the baby on Tuesday through Wednesday, I had a 10k scheduled to run. I debated on whether or not to do it.

It became of symbol of life for me – a way to work through the pain. I cried as I ran, but it was cathartic. I ran past the site my miscarriage had started to make itself known – and I cried some more. It was a healing run.

Coming back to work, there was no sympathy from the women’s health staff I worked with. Just one dear friend acknowledged my loss with a heartfelt card – I still cherish her, and her thoughtfulness.

In a show of how horribly catty women can be, there were so called “friends” who had gone with me to New Orleans that conspired with a boss who was out to get me. They doubted my loss – not only not offering comfort, but accusing me of using it to get off work.

Their twisted line of thought was if I could run a 10k so soon, I couldn’t have been pregnant.

I had to defend myself when I was at a weak emotional place – defend my loss to women who worked with women, who took care of them after their pregnancy losses.

Everyone grieves differently. Even though I had helped countless women through pregnancy loss over the years, I had never questioned them. I comforted them. I pointed them to help. I listened. I cried with them.

As this years memories came floating across my timeline, pictures of that weekend in New Orleans came up.

No joy was found – only bitterness.

I cut ties with the so called friends who had come after me when I was most vulnerable – I saw, in writing, what they had said about me. I had it cleared from my record at work as I had to prove I had lost my pregnancy.

After an extended period of persecution from that boss, she was removed, and I was totally cleared of all the accusations. I knew I would be, and I learned a lot in that season.

I see now I have more forgiving to do. What I had packed away was torn open today.

Maybe I’ll go on a run. It helped me six years ago. This time, the run will be for forgiveness.

It’s true what they say – grandchildren are the best!

In the space of 19 months, we have gone from one grandson, to five grandsons. Two infants and two toddlers have joined the family!

It has really made me reflect on the lives of our kids.

Today, dozens of friends have posted about the daddy daughter dances at their churches. It’s heart warming. I hope against hope that the prodigal daughters will remember where they were on those many nights over the years. No matter how far they’ve strayed from those years of youthful innocence, they can still come back. They can turn their lives around.

I spoke to my toddlers on FaceTime today – they know who I am, we have our rituals. It’s another generation of my heart waking around outside my chest. I want nothing but health and happiness for them.

The infants are precious – so new and amazing, taking in this great big world. I want them safe and secure and loved. I know they are – I want them to always know they’re loved.

Oh, the moments I missed out on as a single, working mom. I did my best – but I still missed a lot. We were poor, but we had love, and we told each other we loved one another every single day.

Looking back, I see what I’ve missed, now that new babies have come into our family.

For all our kids, I want them to walk uprightly, live humbly, and be good people. We will never give up wanting the best for them – but they must find their own way into adulthood, and learn to stand in their own. We love them all, and will cheer them on to success.

For the grandkids that are here, and those that are to come, we want to be a part of their lives, loving them so they also know they are always loved. Our hearts expand as the family does.

Don’t miss the little moments, dear loved ones. Appreciate the miracle of birth. The wonder of learning. The security of Love. The beauty of life!

We will be here for you all, in whatever way we can – for the adults, lending an ear or advice, or making time to hang out.

For the next generation, we are here to see that you have what you need – and we are ready to shower you with love and gifts. It’s the privilege of being grandparents.

For the generation that raised us – let the years draw us closer, as the little things that separated us fall away.

Time is precious.

Tomorrow is not guaranteed.

Love is the answer.

Of this, I am very certain.

I decided to take the plunge and write about my recent experience with a hospital.

I was there to witness the birth of a grandchild. His mother was in top health, low risk, and intelligent. She went on the hospital tour, and was excited to be part of the healthcare team.

I was there as Nana, trying to stay in the background. What I saw was distressing, to say the least.

So here are some expectations while you’re in the hospital. And tips to keep you safe.

1. If you have questions, ask them. If you don’t get the answers you want, move up the chain until you do. Even on weekends, there’s always a chain of command. Start with your nurse, move to the charge nurse. Ask for the nursing supervisor. Whatever you need to do.

2. Keep notes. Especially if your care is not up to standard. You will need specifics when you’re talking to administration, if the nursing and or medical staff is not listening to you. Write down times, dates, names, etc.

3. Every shift, you should get a head to toe assessment from a nurse. It will be tailored to whatever your medical needs are. If your nurse is not putting a stethoscope on you, is not touching you, is not looking at you, but is just asking you a pain scale and walking out the door, this is not an assessment. This is below standard of care.

4. They keep hospitalizations brief, so education should be at the forefront. You should know how to take care of yourself when you get home. You should understand what medications you’re taking, and when. If they have not made this clear to you, ask them to.

5. Wash your hands. A lot. With soap and water, rubbing vigorously. Make sure everyone who comes in the room who is laying hands on you has washed their hands. With soap and water. Purell not good enough! For any invasive procedures that involve changing dressings, or inserting or taking things out of your body, hands should be washed, and gloves should be on. If not, do not let them treat you until these things are done. Staff should know to wash their hands, but if they don’t do it, tell them to.

6. If you can, bring somebody with you to the hospital that can be your advocate in the event that you are unable to speak or advocate for yourself. They can be your eyes and ears when you were not in your right mind. It’s also helpful because they can assist you in some of your care when the staffing is short – which is pretty much always.

7. If you don’t have a living will and advance directives, get them. You can go to the hospital and they will do it for free. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen families torn apart because the wishes of loved ones are not being met – usually because they have not been written down. While you are healthy, have the conversations you need to about what to do in the event of certain medical emergencies. Get it on paper. It’s peace of mind, in the medical staff will have it in your chart.

8. Cleanliness of the room is important – housekeeping should be changing the trash out when it is full (or before), and the surfaces in the room should be getting cleaned daily. For the over 48 hours we were in the postpartum room, the room was never cleaned beyond the trash emptied. There was actually food on the floor from the previous patient. The entire stay. Ask for your room to be cleaned if it doesn’t get cleaned. And if it still doesn’t get cleaned, take it up with administration.

9. Speak up! This is the hard part – although they ask you to be a part of the healthcare team, when you start asking questions or asking that standards be met, they will usually meet you with hostility, and consider you a “difficult patient”. If they’re really unhappy, they will bring out the “well, you can just leave AMA”. Do not do this under any circumstances. It’s against medical advice, and you will be stuck with the entire bill – insurance will not pay.

It makes me sad to write this – I’ve been a nurse for over 20 years. I’ve known better than to leave my love ones alone in a hospital – I’ve flown from far away to be with my dad for a surgery. I understand that staffing can be short. But I also understand that a conscientious healthcare provider will still get the job done, and provide safe care for their patients.

You are a part of the healthcare team – the most important part. Advocate for yourself. Bring someone to advocate for you. And don’t be afraid to ask questions.

Seven years ago an Australian Shepherd came into my life as an eight week old puppy.

I spent her first year training with her. Subsequently, she has turned into a great pet – well mannered, a great walking buddy, and my canine friend.

She’s definitely a herding dog – she’s always leading me around the house. She knows my habits, and she proceeds me.

My favorite part is the backward glance.

She checks to make sure I am still following her. If I stop walking, or turn back, she will either wait, or come back to me, waiting patiently for me to begin moving again.

This is one of the many valuable traits of my companion and pet. She looks after me.

If I ever feel alone, I just need to glance down.

Mitzi is always by my side.

It’s been an intense weekend.

Friday, in the wee hours, I joined my son, daughter in love, and her mother in welcoming our newest family member. Seeing a baby being born is always an amazing miracle. I’ve seen thousands of deliveries, working as an L&D nurse.

Getting to be present as my grandson took his first breathe was amazing. Words cannot adequately describe the feelings that rushed through me as he entered the world.

I also saw my son transform into a father, a beautiful instantaneous moment of intense love and gratification. My little boy had grown into a wonderful, caring man, and now, a father of a son. My grandson.

I watched my daughter in love do what millions of women have done over generations …she had natural labor, with no medication. She and my son worked together, in peace and calm and love, to bring new life into the world. It’s always an awesome sight – even more so as a family.

I went home hours after the birth, exhausted but joyful.

Friday was all about new life, and appreciating the miracle of birth.

Saturday was a different day altogether.

I loaded my exhausted son into my car and drove him over an hour to a dear friends house. My son had a photo shoot to do, and he was determined to get it done, despite having a barely 1 day old son, and the sheer exhaustion of two days with no sleep.

As he slept in the passengers seat on the drive south, I recalled the day in December when my daughter in love suggested he do a photo shoot for my friend.

One of my best friends that I met as a nurse in 2001 has been stricken with ALS. A vivacious, strong woman of God, the disease is slowly working its way through her.

We arrived at her house on a beautiful, sunny day. My son and I unloaded his photography equipment, and entered her house.

Inside, her husband, kids, their spouses, and her grandson were there. My friend was brought out in her wheelchair, looking lovely as ever.

My son spent time indoors and out taking an amazing portrait collection of her beautiful family. The love in the room was palpable. This beloved matriarch was celebrated, loved, and captured on film.

I’ll never stop praying for a miracle- but each time I see her, a little more of her is gone. We finished the shoot, hugged my friend, told her we loved her, and got in the car to leave.

And I wept. And wept.

In the span of 31 hours I witnessed new life.

I saw a beloved friends life ebbing away.

Such is life. I have 18 years of laughter, camaraderie, friendship, and tears with my friend. I want 18 more…and more.

I have had a handful of days with my beloved newest grandson. A lifetime of love stretches ahead of him

James 4:14 (NKJV) says “whereas you do not know what will happen tomorrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away.“

Life is precious. In this intense weekend, I was reminded of this.

Cherish every day.