The key to an extra special holiday season is based on two things: Attitude and effort. Did you just say Bah Humbug? Well, it’s true. Like I said in the first article back on page 10, what you get out of something is equivalent to what you put into it. I have had Christmases when just getting out the holiday dish towel practically did me in. But not this year. Coronavirus is the Grinch of 2020, and I refuse to let it steal my holidays. With that, I’m getting on the roof to help Clark Griswold light up the neighborhood—watch out property owners association!

Is it possible to be sick of convenience? Can’t anything be challenging anymore? Some things need to be convenient, like breakfast on a Monday morning, but giving thanks and celebrating the Lord’s birthday? Not so much. Nor should decorating and shopping for the people you love the most—your friends and family.

“Things are never quite as scary when you have a best friend.”
—Bill Watterson, Calvin & Hobbs—

I remember being at Girl Scout camp, sitting around the fire and singing, “Make new friends but keep the old, one is silver and the other gold.” I didn’t really understand the magnitude of that song, because quite frankly, in the 5th grade or so, most friends are still fairly new. In thinking back to my formative years, I thrived on friendships, and never stopped.

To quote the Beatles, “I get by with a little help from my friends.” I’m social. Covid-19 has revealed that point to me loud and clear: I’m not a loner; I’m not quiet; I’m not an introvert; I’m not a homebody; I’m not even a lone wolf, unless I’m writing. In other words, I like being with people, especially my friends and family.

The overwhelming anger and divisiveness of America has me feeling down. Usually this column is about what’s irritating me to the point of throwing a hissy fit, and I know there are many irritable pesky protocols and rude behavior out there I could write about. However, this month the bad is weighing on me so heavily, all I want to write about are things that used to make me happy.

Lately I have longed, ached even, for a rewind button. I terribly miss wholesomeness, being a part of a group, time spent around the table with family, being needed and helping others.

Maybe it’s because I am once again an empty nester, and I haven’t found my just-me-and-the-dog groove yet. Sure, we go to the beach, have our walks and he goes to the office with me, but he never asks me how my day was, nor does he laugh.

This month’s theme—#WellBeing—has been a hot topic around my house lately. Why? Because I haven’t been well for the last four months. On May 14, I helped my mother do yard work. I planted tomato plants, dug holes under a dogwood tree to plant azaleas and moved a large cast iron pot, which is really more of a cauldron, across the yard to fill with colorful annuals. I commented on how heavy it was, and she told me her mother used to boil laundry in it. At dark we called it quits and went in for a light supper. By 10:00 p.m. I noticed my back hurt more than being a little sore from all the bending and lifting. By midnight, I was at level 10 pain. With virtually no sleep and in the worst pain I have ever been in, I rushed to an urgent care at 7:00 a.m. They didn’t open until 8:00.

You’ve heard it a million times: Don’t sweat the small stuff. That’s very easy to say, but sometimes, the small stuff feels like big stuff. The key is to try to keep things in perspective.  A traffic jam is small stuff. A traffic jam when you need to badly go tinkle and are at a stand still with no exit in sight is a bit more dire. A traffic jam when it snows, and you’re stuck in your car on the freeway for more than 24 hours and your children are at daycare and you are a single mom with no relatives in town (Hello, Atlanta!) is no longer small stuff—enter some well-deserved sweat. See how perspective changes everything?

Take concerts for instance. I not only enjoy the music, I also am intrigued by people watching. As the main act—meaning the best band—started winding down their playlist, droves of people began to leave. This is when it dawned on me what people are willing to miss out on over small stuff. They were leaving in order to avoid the brief traffic backup getting out of the parking lot. But here’s what they missed: The absolute best song of the night! It’s ALWAYS the encore. Haven’t they ever heard “save the best for last?” It’s the reason everyone goes to the concert. And. They. Just. Left.