10.22.08
The days are short; make time for the good stuff
Have you ever bought a greeting card for yourself? I do all the time. If I like the quote or picture, it’s mine. I may scan and share with others via the almighty internet, but some cards are meant for keeping.
One that has priority viewing on my desk right now is a photo of a road with the fall trees forming a gorgeous leafy tunnel overhead, an arch of beauty. I stroll down that path in my mind when I need a break from deadlines.
The cover quote from John Burroughs also resonates with me: “I still find each day too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want to take, all the books I want to read, and all the friends I want to see.”
The days are short, and the older I get, even the years are short. The inside caption reads: May your birthday find you with all the time you need to enjoy all the things you love. (Card is “Moments” collection from Fravessi Greetings.)
Is there ever enough time to enjoy all that we love? The point is to make time for the things, and the people, we love. These words resonate with me more than usual this week as I reflect on the words spoken at a memorial service this weekend.
“We always thought we had time,” Patty said. Patty was one of my college roomies. Our junior year, a group of us girls moved out of the dorms and into a cool old house across the street from campus. So many memories are packed into that year and that house.
Pat’s boyfriend Dave became our roommate too that year. Pat and Dave got married, and welcomed twin girls a year later. They now also have an 8-year-old daughter, who was best pals with her daddy. Dave died in his sleep last week.
I realize that none of us are guaranteed a long life, but we sure operate under that assumption. We may all wish to die in our sleep, but not when we are in our 40’s.
Amidst the sorrow of the service, there was laughter. As Pat said, “Over the years we had our moments, but we laughed a lot. We laughed a lot.” The photos on the poster board brought back the good times of our college years and yeah, we laughed a lot then too.
That is my goal from here on out. I want to laugh. I want to make time for all the thoughts I want to think, the walks I want to take (some of those walks will take me out of the country), the books I want to read, and most importantly, the people I want to see.
Dave had made Pat a 20th anniversary DVD of pictures and songs of their life together, and he gave copies to friends and family. I am so glad I have it. His silhouette dance number finale is classic fun. It reminds me to be myself, to do what I love, and make time for the things and people I love.
My wish for you today: Do something you love, read something you love, and share a moment with someone who makes you laugh. The days are short; make time for the good stuff.
{Join Kelly’s joy network (a weekly laugh) at www.kellyepperson.com. Contact: kel_epperson@yahoo.com or PO Box 23242 Loves Park IL 61131.}
09.08.08
She Loved This Place
I went for a walk in the woods…
The forest is still. It’s peaceful. It welcomes me. Walking through the woods, no iPod in my ears, I listen to the sounds of the trees, and whatever is skittering through them. On past walks, I’ve seen deer, turkey, and the largest raccoon on the planet. I’m still not sure it was a raccoon; it was as big as a man, but he was on all fours in a raccoon suit.
Today I take the road toward the dam and the lake. I pass mommies with little ones in strollers and dogs on leashes. I see daddies with little boys fishing. I overhear bits of conversations. “This is my favorite rock.” “I can do it. One step at a time. One… two….” “Thanks, sweetie.”
The lake is waveless. A few fishing boats are out, but the faint breeze is not enough to beckon the sailboats. The water is sparkling and murmurs contentment. At the end of a tiny piece of land that protrudes into the water, I park myself on a bench.
It’s a gorgeous day. I could sit here for hours doing nothing more but contemplating the world and my place in it. In the cement under my feet, I notice a bronze plaque:
Kathryn ‘Katie’ Rubendall
1949 – 2002
She Loved This Place
She loved this place. I didn’t know Katie, but I know she died young and I know she had good taste. I love this place too. It feels right that I should be sitting on Katie’s bench, lost in my thoughts. I silently thank her loved ones for placing this bench in her memory.
I watch a little boat bobbing and floating along. I need time to float. Life gets hectic and frenzied. Sometimes the best thing to do is to allow ourselves time to float; to relax, to enjoy, and to reflect on what really matters. When we’re floating, we can soak it all in with a deep sigh of satisfaction and gratitude. When we’re floating, we can think about what we really want.
Floating has its purpose, but there is a need for speed as well. Sometimes we have to go full barrel, blazing ahead with a whoop and a rush of adrenaline. Taking chances, exploring, reveling in the sensations. Feeling giddy, feeling free, feeling the moment. That happens when we take the next step toward our dreams.
We can’t float forever and we can’t race all the time. The pace of life needs balance. Serene moments coupled with joyful thrills. If all we did was float, we would never experience the extraordinary high of new accomplishments.
Laughter erupts from the family fishing on the shore. Ducks are quacking. A few cars rumble slowly over the bridge. I hear them, but I want to linger a little longer in my meditation. The lake is still and peaceful. I feel welcome.
I know that even if I sit here for hours I will never understand the complexities of the universe and my place in it. But it is good for my soul to sit on Katie’s bench and enjoy the beautiful day, and beautiful life.
When I’m gone, there will be no specific place for my bronze plaque. I love a lot of places. I love a lot of people. I love this life. I don’t want to die young. When it comes my time to leave this earth, I hope that all of those whom I love can touch their hearts and know that it reads She Loved This Place.
Kelly can be reached at kel_epperson@yahoo.com and PO Box 2324, Loves Park, IL 61131. Kelly’s book, When Life Stinks, It’s Time to Wash the Gym Clothes, is available at Barnes & Noble, Borders, and www.whenlifestinks.com. For speaking engagements, please visit www.kellyepperson.com.
First Issue of the Joy enews – Sept 5, 2008
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With the new format, I’m calling this Issue #1. We’ll see what evolves — and I love the cool things that you share with me, so bring it on.
*Almost 10,000 miles in 6 months! I have not tired of people’s questions and double-takes. This car makes people SMILE! Just by driving around, we’re spreading the happy. How cool is that!
When Life Stinks, Find Your Joy | Kelly Epperson | PO Box 2324 | Loves Park | IL | 61131
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04.28.08
You’re Invited to Ireland June 2009
When I was in college, one of the posters in my room was a luscious green photo of Ireland. It was gorgeous, beckoning and lulling, and I was a daydreamer. Still am. One thing I have learned since college, some dreams come true.
Are you at all interested in a trip to Ireland? If even a tiny part of you said yes, read on. If not, I’ll see you back here next week.
Some of you may know P.J. Francis. His articles and photos appear in several of the newspapers that run my column. P.J. is an Irishman who has lived in the states for years. He has a desire to organize a group tour to Ireland, his homeland. He has asked me to be the tour guide!
P.J. will be the history and local lore expect. I will be the one to make sure everyone stays happy and understands P.J.’s thick accent. So…are you in? Great! Oh, you want more details? Okay, sure.
We are in the planning phase and need to know how many to plan for. The basic theme is flexibility (this will be a laid-back tour), frugality (we are all on a budget; until I hit the LOTTO jackpot), and fun (no whiner/complainers allowed).
Tentative agenda: Homebase will be Ballyvaughn, P.J.’s hometown. P.J.’s mother still lives there, but she doesn’t have room for a gaggle of giggly Americans. We’ll stay at the lovely new hotel. We will visit Galway (once a walled city and a piece of the wall is still intact), Claddagh (it’s not just a ring, it’s a fishing village), the awesome Cliffs of Moher in County Clare, Coole Park and Thoore, Ballylea (home of poet W.B.Yeats).
And we’ll go to castles! And we’ll have a banquet at a castle! We’ll tour the Burren region: “An amazing place: karst limestone pavements, eroded in a distinctive pattern known as karren. This pavement is crisscrossed by cracks known as grykes and underneath the pavement, there are huge caves… dozens of megalithic tombs and celtic crosses and a ruined Cistercian Abbey from the 12th century, Corcomroe. You can find villages abandoned since famine times and green roads on which you can walk for miles without ever seeing a car.”
We can hook up with the walking club; we can borrow bicycles. Horse riding is popular. We can scooter and we can rent minibuses for day trips. There will be opportunities, but no mandates. P.J. and his wife, Helena, will regale us with tales (Why did the mayor of Galway allegedly hang his own son?). We will go to the pub and chat with the locals. Drinking Guinness is optional. Singing “Danny Boy” is strictly forbidden.
We’re thinking June 2009. That gives us all plenty of time to save our pennies. If you are at all intrigued, drop me an email or snail mail. I will add a page to my website soon with Ireland trip information, but for now, we are gathering interested parties. Cost is key, we know. We’re working on the best deal possible. If you don’t have already, get a passport, patience, and a sense of humor. And if you are someone who wants to travel, but doesn’t have someone to go with, now you do. So what do you say? (I say life is short; die broke.) Ireland is gorgeous and beckoning. Are you in?
[Contact Ceallaigh (Kelly in Irish) at kel_epperson@yahoo.com or PO Box 2324 Loves Park IL 61131. Visit www.kellyepperson.com or www.whenlifestinks.com. Hey – new book title? When Life Stinks, Take a Trip to Ireland!]
04.10.08
I made out with Garrison Keillor
Let me tell you the story. I drove my smart car (she likes to be called Josephine) to Dayton, Ohio for the Erma Bombeck Humor Writers Workshop. Josephine brought smiles all across Illinois, Indiana and Ohio. She has a way with that.
Arriving at the hotel, I dashed in to get my room key before unloading, only to learn that the welcome dinner had started without me. Bewildered, I said, “It’s only twenty after five.” The conference organizer gal glowered at me like I was a dumb blonde (I now feel your pain, ladies). “It’s 6:20! They’re done with the salads. You better get in there!”
What else to do at a humor writing conference than laugh? There was a time zone change somewhere along my journey, but I was oblivious. Call me a dumb brunette. The front desk folks were enamored with Josephine. They let me keep her parked out front, so I could join the dinner already in progress.
I entered the ballroom packed with nearly 400 people. Scanning the crowded room for a table with an empty seat, I literally bumped into a guy with “VIP” on his nametag. I assumed he was part of the conference and asked if there were any seats left. He pointed me to his table right in front of the stage.
He in fact was a VIP guest, not a conference helper. I ended up with the folks from the Dayton Daily News. They were very gracious about letting me crash their table. Immediately a waiter was at my elbow, with two bottles. “Red or white?” I breathed a sigh of relief and knew the evening was going to be fine.
The entertainment portion of the night began and I had a front row seat. Good things come to those who are late. Garrison Keillor sounds the same in person as on radio, and he was as wonderful as expected. (When you’re Garrison Keillor, folks have high expectations.) One tidbit of advice I gobbled up from the man: When your editor calls, never answer the phone. Always let them go to voicemail.
After the program, GK hung around for book signing. I bought two books and joined the queue for an autograph. His rumpled blue suit and red tennis shoes matched his comfortable rapport with each person he greeted. I didn’t mind the long line; I knew when it was my turn, he’d give me the same attention.
As I waited, I decided the books I bought would make great gifts for two friends who are big GK fans. When it was my moment, I handed my camera over and had someone snap a photo. “Right here,” I pointed to my cheek. (I’d had a couple glasses of red.) GK obliged and pecked my cheek. He signed the books for my diva gal pals. I decided I wanted a signature for myself. Instead of a scrap of paper, I had him sign my own little podunk book to me. (I always carry several copies of When Life Stinks, It’s Time to Wash the Gym Clothes, but I usually am the one signing them.)
As I’m sure they say in Lake Wobegon, all’s well that ends well. The evening may have started with me being flustered, but it ended on the right note. I got the best seats in the house; I got gifts for friends who will treasure these books; and I got a kiss. So in fact, I made out with Garrison Keillor. I made out just fine.
