Thanksgiving 2021: Back Together Again

Thanksgiving Day is upon us once more. Thank God that the 2021 version is going to be much better than its 2020 counterpart. That’s not to say 2021 as a whole has been better than 2020, because it really hasn’t. At least not in my world. Another death in the family, a horrendous basement flood, a car accident for my mom, and lots of smaller, irritating things made 2021 pretty crappy, too. But that’s life, right? Shit happens. And the best way to get through it is to deal with the shit as best you can and be grateful for the good things in your life. 

Last year, COVID kept me from seeing any of my immediate family on what I consider to be the biggest family holiday of the year. This year, though, will be different. My wife and I will be hosting dinner for my mom, my brother, and one of my sisters. And both of our sons will be  in the house, too! It’s actually going to be somewhat normal*, which I am extremely grateful for. (* FYI, "normal” with my family is never really normal, but I think you get what I mean.)

So, I guess it’s time for what has become my annual Thanksgiving Gratitude List. I don’t post much on this blog anymore, but I still like to sit down and make this list once a year. It kind of keeps me grounded. (If you’ve never made a gratitude list, I highly recommend it.)

Happy Thanksgiving from me and mine to you and yours. My hope is that you have an enjoyable day with people who truly matter to you, and that you eat well in the process. Appreciate what and who you have, because there are a lot of people who would love to have the same. And at some point, you may not have everything or everyone you have today. So, be in the moment and take it all in. As my spiritual advisor Anne Lamott says, “Right this minute, we understand that this is all there is, so let’s really be together.” (My family actually uses that line as our pre-meal “grace.”)

And with that, here's my stream of consciousness, in-no-particular-order gratitude list for 2021. As always, there will be overlaps from last year, but so be it. 

Some Things I Am Grateful For

Kathleen Marie Cook Dauphinais (always at the very top of my gratitude list)
My 90-year-old mom
My two sons, Sam and Josh

My other two sons, Thelonious and Monk

Everett, Duncan, Christy, and Kyle

My siblings

My job at Families Against Narcotics

My co-workers 

Vaccinations

My Pontiac Solstice convertible
Around the Horn and Pardon the Interruption on ESPN (my favorite hour of television)

The TV the guy on Facebook Marketplace gave me for free

Friends (the actual people, not the TV show!)

Fredi Bello (a.k.a. Fredi the Pizzaman)

My house

Cookbooks

People with a similar sense of humor

Hosting living room shows

Window screens

Spending time with my two little buddies next door

My fireplace

Naloxone

Boat days with my neighbors

A basement that’s getting closer and closer to being back to a pre-flood state

My electrophysiologist

Music
Anne Lamott and her amazing words
Everyone who follows my Anne Lamott Quotes Twitter feed
33 years of marriage
Decent writing and editing skills

Jim Bryson

Matthew Ryan

Kathleen Edwards

Pizza (duh)
Will Johnson’s artwork

The Serious Eats website

J. Kenji López-Alt

Clouds
Zoloft

Cashews

My neighborhood and all my wonderful neighbors

Chris Walker at Golling Toyota

Gratitude (Can you be grateful for gratitude? I think so!)
Memories of those no longer with us (my dad, mother- & father-in-law, & grandparents)

Taylor Swift

Essential workers

Lake Michigan

Siblings-in-law, nieces, and nephews

Random acts of kindness

Saturday New York Times Daily Mini and Spelling Bee challenges with David and Alli

The Internet

The moon

The Detroit Lions (Just kidding! The Lions suck!)

Mickey Redmond

Facebook Marketplace

Jennifer Garner

Julia Kristina, M.A. Psych.

JM Storm

Spring, summer, and fall (sorry, winter)
Freshly baked bread with butter

Eastside Bagel

Reasonably good cooking skills

The writings of Matt Haig

Hope (always)

Good health insurance

Bob and Jayne at Undertow Music

 

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone who reads this. Peace, love, and good food. 

What are you grateful for today?

-Dean

 

“Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today and creates a vision for tomorrow.” ~Melody Beattie

Anne Lamott to the Rescue (Again)

Over the years, the words of Anne Lamott have helped me through some very difficult and challenging times in my life: my son’s addiction, my father’s death, an extended period of unemployment, and a cancerous tumor on my kidney, to name just a few. So, it came as no surprise whatsoever that Dusk Night Dawn: On Revival and Courage found its way into my hands the same week my father-in-law had a massive stroke and lay in a hospital bed with a very uncertain future. (Cue Twilight Zone theme song here.)

I am incredibly grateful for Anne Lamott and her writings. (So much so that I started the Anne Lamott Quotes account on Twitter, which you should definitely go follow!) To be honest, I’ve pretty much fallen in love with every book she’s ever written. (Full disclosure: I haven’t read any of her novels!) That’s why my brand new love affair with Dusk Night Dawn was entirely predictable. But, even though I may be a bit biased, please trust me: This one’s another winner.

Annie tells it like it is and, quite often, tells it like she wishes it was. After all, she admits to us that “most of my life force goes into trying to self-will life and me into cooperating with how I think things should be.” On the other hand, though, she seems to be making some progress in her “third third” (love that term!) of life. “I am slowly making my way from a hypnotized engine of delusion and self-obsession to being a bit more real, a smidge more alive more often. I’ll take it. I am learning to live more often in reckless love.”

 

Speaking of love, that’s covered in Dusk Night Dawn, too, as Annie frequently talks about her still-relatively-new marriage to her soulmate, Neal. Sure, she loves and adores him, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a target at times. “When I’m watching him, I observe what a tall, nice-looking, thoughtful focused know-it-all he is. He comes from a family of know-it-alls. His brothers are just like him. I love them, but at our family vacations it is like Wikipedia with PMS.” 

My favorite essays in Dusk Night Dawn are probably “Lunch-Money Faith” and “Light Breezes.” In “Lunch-Money Faith,” Annie talks about her friend Terri who, one day at church, told her, “I have made a life and career out of being a good sport…And I am worn out.” Annie concurs. “Me too. I am sick and tired of being such a good sport and worker bee, chin up and adorably ironic, while we notice how much worse things have grown.” Amen to that. Aren’t we all just a little tired at this point?

 

Meanwhile, in “Light Breezes” Annie explores one of my favorite “D” words: Dread. As a lifelong catastrophizer, I can easily relate to what Lamott calls “my most reliable companion, always there for me, like God in a bad mood,” sharing with us that “Dread was my governess growing up.” She adds, “If Dread is not still right there at my side, she’s there in the wings, humming her hymns, drumming her fingers, knowing there is always a place for her in my heart. Life will push her call button.”

 

In true Anne Lamott fashion, though, there is lots of positivity in Dusk Night Dawn, too. “Yes, these are times of great illness and distress,” Annie writes. “Yet the center may just hold.” She also posits that “Hope springs from realizing we are loved, can love, and are love with skin on. Then we are unstoppable.”

 

Dusk Night Dawn is classic Anne Lamott, full of observation, honesty, sarcasm, positivity, self-deprecating humor (“I have a doctorate in morbid reflection.”), and the occasional eff bomb (“Never disobey Sunday school teachers. They will fuck with you.”). If you need a little bit of hope and courage, do yourself a favor and read this book. And remember: “The kitten isn’t dead. The kitten is in the living room.” (You’ll have to read the book to understand the meaning of that!)

"In the third third of life, you may become just as miserable and prickly as ever, but you cycle through more quickly. You remember other dark nights of the soul and how by dawn they always broke. You discover that everything helps you learn who you are, and that this is why we are here. You roll your eyes at yourself more gently. You sigh and go make yourself a cup of tea." --Anne Lamott

Thanksgiving 2020: Damn, This Is Weird

COVID-19 sucks. 2020 sucks. And for a lot of people, Thanksgiving 2020 might suck. But not for me. Don't get me wrong--this Thanksgiving is gonna be weird with a capital W, because I won't be able to see any of my immediate family. My 89-year-old mom. My youngest sister. My oldest sister. My brother. My two sons. I won't see any of them on my favorite holiday because of this stupid coronavirus. And it's super weird.

My wife and I will, however, be having Thanksgiving dinner with our next door neighbors. That might sound crazy, but our next door neighbors are like extended family. Kathy and I are old enough to be their parents (I think), but we have been incredible friends since they moved in several years ago. Not only that, their two boys--ages one-and-half-ish and going on four--are like our surrogate grandchildren. We babysit them all the time and love them with all our heart.The reason we're having dinner with our neighbors is because they are in our "pod." We've stayed in contact with them pretty much since this COVID bullshit started, and we're all very careful not to have much contact with others. Plus, we're pretty much family. 

So we'll be celebrating Thanksgiving with people not related to us, but it will still be fun. I hope you have a fun Thanksgiving, too, no matter who you're celebrating with.

Now, onto the purpose of this post: a gratitude list! 

It's funny: I used to post on this blog pretty often. But since I found a job I truly love, I've been busy. In fact, the last post I made to this blog was last Thanksgiving. And it was a gratitude list. Maybe I'll just come back here once a year to list a bunch of things I'm grateful for. Who knows? In any case, here's my stream of consciousness gratitude list for 2020. There may be overlaps from last year, but so be it. 

Some Things I Am Grateful For

Katinka (a.k.a. my lovely wife Kathy; always at the very top of my gratitude list)
My job with Families Against Narcotics (FAN) and all the amazing people I work with
My 89-year-old mom
My two sons, Sam and Josh
15 months of sobriety for Sam
My new-to-me 2006 Pontiac Solstice

My amazing next door neighbors and their adorable boys
Great neighbors all around me

Law & Order reruns

People who believe in me

Opportunity

My ceramic, light-up Penobscot Building

Friendships

Dr. Gabe at Platz Animal Hospital

Ronnie's Meats

A nice home to live in

My new front porch and railing

Music and the people who make it
Mickey, our 15-year old sweetheart of a cat
Anne Lamott
The Anne Lamott Quotes Twitter feed
Jason and the Clear Minds sober living house
Good health
32 years of marriage
A sense of humor

Kathleen Edwards
Pizza (always!)
Clean water to drink
My grandma's soup recipe
My father-in-law
Kindness

Zoloft

My electrophysiologist

The ability to help others
The Leelanau School

My brothers- and sisters-in-law

The New York Times crossword and Spelling Bee puzzles

Spotify

Facebook Marketplace

Jim Bryson

Apple products

Julia Kristina MA Psych
Peace and quiet

Love

Birds
Freshly baked bread with butter

Reasonably good cooking skills

Memories of my dad

Memories of my grandparents

Democracy
Author Matt Haig

Hope (always)
Retro-Taku Videogames

Good health insurance

Matthew Ryan

Dreams

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone who reads this. I hope you're able to enjoy the day, even if you can't be with the people who matter to you most. And if you've lost people who matter to you, I hope they live on for you in the memories you have of them.

Peace, love, and good food. And please wear a mask.

What are you grateful for today?

-Dean

Thanksgiving Gratitude

It's been forever since I've written anything for this blog, and even longer since I've written anything of a personal nature here. But today I decided I'd stop by and write a simple gratitude list for Thanksgiving. This year has certainly been a challenge, but I still have plenty to be grateful for. So, here goes...

Some Things I Am Grateful For

Katinka (aka my lovely wife Kathy)
Love
My job with Families Against Narcotics (FAN)
My 88-year-old mom
My two sons, Sam and Josh
91 days of sobriety for Sam
Narcan
The City of Grosse Pointe Police Department
My amazing next door neighbors and their adorable boys
Great neighbors all around me
A nice home to live in
Music and the people who make it
13 years of kitty love from Ryan (RIP, sweet boy)
Mickey, the sole survivor of the Kitty Triangle trio
Anne Lamott
The Anne Lamott Quotes Twitter feed
Jason and the Clear Minds sober living house
Good health
31 years of marriage
Reasonably decent cooking skills
A sense of humor
Pizza
Live PD
Clean water to drink
My mom's cheesecake recipe
My in-laws
Random acts of kindness
Zoloft
Flannel
Brian Andreas
My siblings
Stuff my wife knits for me
The ability to help others
The Leelanau School
Sam Lamott's "How to Human" podcast
Peace and quiet
The smell of baking bread
Reasons to Stay Alive and Notes on a Nervous Planet (two books by Matt Haig)
Hope (always)

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone who reads this. I hope you're able to enjoy the day with the people who matter most to you. And if you've lost people who matter to you, I hope they live on for you in the memories you have of them.

Peace, love, and good food.

What are you grateful for today?

-Dean

Anne Lamott Gives Us a Reason for Hope

As I often tell people, the writings of Anne Lamott were introduced to me at a time in my life when I was struggling badly. My oldest son was in the throes of addiction. I was battling depression. And I felt like my whole world was falling apart. I was, in a word, hopeless. But my wife was a big fan of Anne Lamott and suggested I take a look at a few of her books. Figuring I had absolutely nothing to lose, I took my wife up on her suggestion. And it literally changed my life.

For someone who was pretty much out of hope, reading Lamott's thoughtful and spiritual musings was the best thing I could've done for myself. It didn't take long to figure out that Anne's words were a beacon that could help guide me out of one of the darkest periods of my life.

"Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: you don't give up." That passage from Lamott's Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life made me stand up and take notice. Maybe there was still hope for me. Maybe I could navigate the storm I was in the midst of and find some peace in my world. Another passage about hope, this one from Anne's Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith, also resonated with me: "Hope is not about proving anything. It's about choosing to believe this one thing, that love is bigger than any grim, bleak shit anyone can throw at us."

Anne Lamott gave me back some hope. Now she’s given us an entire book about hope. And it's wonderful.

Lamott tells us in the Prelude to Almost Everything: Notes on Hope that the book began as a list for her grandson and niece, "who are both exuberant and worried, as I was at their age and still am some days." "Dearest," she writes. "Here is everything I know about almost everything, that I think applies to almost everyone, that might help you someday."

Yes, we're living in tumultuous times. But that doesn't mean we can't be grateful for the good things in our world, too. Lamott makes that perfectly clear in the first sentence of this book: "I am stockpiling antibiotics for the apocalypse, even as I await the blossoming of paperwhites on the windowsill in the kitchen." Those paperwhites? They represent hope. We just have to see and recognize it.

"Hope springs from that which is right in front of us, which surprises us, and seems to work."

Amen, Annie.

In Almost Everything, Anne Lamott explores life, death, love, hate, families (aka, "famblies"), food, writing, and more, and she does it with her usual candidness and (sometimes dark) wit. "I have just always found it extremely hard to be here, on this side of eternity, because of, well, other people; and death." She's also not afraid to throw a little self-deprecation into the mix: "Scientists say we are made of stars, and I believe them, although my upper arms look like hell."

Lamott is so adept at reminding us that things are never as bad as they may seem. If we practice gratitude ("Gratitude is seeing how someone changed your heart and quality of life, helped you become the good parts of the person you are") and see the good in everything--and everyONE ("Empathy begins when we realize how much alike we all are")--our lives will be much more satisfying and fulfilling. We have to do the next right thing and "live in the light, not the dark of the sad past." Is that always easy? Of course not. But having Anne remind us through her wise observations and meaningful stories makes it easier; and it is incredibly comforting, too.

I adore everything Anne Lamott writes, because I can relate to her on so many different levels. She thinks so many of the same things I think, which helps make me feel like I'm not alone. And, best of all, she's a master at pointing out the silver linings--no matter how small--that I may not be able to see. 

This book will make you realize that there is always a reason for hope. "If you arrive at a place in life that is miserable, it will change," Lamott promises. "Some days there seems to be little reason for hope, in our families, cities, and world. Well, except for almost everything."

Coffee Break

If you follow me on Facebook or Twitter, you probably already know that I recently attempted to become a barista at Starbucks in order to bring in some extra money. Alas, I only lasted a few days. But at least I got a good story out of it. And I'm happy to say that story was just published on Hello Humans, a website that describes itself as a place to "Celebrate the human-ness we all share. The unvarnished, the dirty, the small steps and big crashes, the small victories, and the breakthroughs."

It's also very cool that the Hello Humans site is the brainchild of Sam Lamott, who just so happens to be the son of my favorite author, Anne Lamott. (I have to say: the awesomeness of that is not lost on me.)

So, do me a favor and head over to Hello Humans and read my piece, which is entitled "Coffee Break." And while you're there, maybe look at some of the other stories, too. There's a lot of really great writing there from "storytellers who capture the truth of what it means to be human."

Like the "About Us" page of the Hello Humans site says: "The internet is full to the brim with 'gurus' and 'experts' who are happy to tell you about their successes, their methods, their shiny lives. While we believe that sharing success is important, we believe deeply that the discovery process, with all its missteps, pivots, and do-overs, is what connects and inspires us--not the final destination. After all, isn’t it obvious that there never was a final destination to begin with?"

Amen to that.

Here's a direct link to my story:

Coffee Break

I'd love to hear what you think of it, so feel free to leave a comment underneath it on the Hello Humans page.

Peace.

It didn't last very long, but it sure was an adventure.

Anne Lamott Gives Us Hope with "Hallelujah Anyway"

If I wanted to sound hipper than I actually am, I'd tell you that Anne Lamott is my "spirit animal." But at my age, I'm probably not cool enough to use terms like that. So instead, I'll just say that Anne Lamott makes my world a better place, because her books are like elixirs for my soul. I've been hooked on her writings since my wife introduced me to them several years ago during a difficult period in our lives.

When I read Annie's books, I feel like I’m being hugged by her words, and Hallelujah Anyway: Rediscovering Mercy is no exception. In fact, the words on the pages of this book are the best kind of hugs, full of love and hope and spirituality. And even though I don't consider myself to be a very religious person, I am a big believer in love, hope, spirituality, and the comfort they bring to our lives.

In Hallelujah Anyway, Anne Lamott explores the complicated concept of mercy. The dictionary may define mercy as "compassion or forgiveness shown toward someone whom it is within one's power to punish or harm," but Annie's got a better definition: "Mercy is radical kindness," she writes. "Mercy means offering or being offered aid in desperate straits. Mercy is not deserved. It involves absolving the unabsolvable, forgiving the unforgivable."

Yes, mercy is complicated, but Hallelujah Anyway does a fabulous job of breaking it down so it’s easier to understand. And Annie even paints visual pictures of mercy that help you feel what mercy is. "Mercy is a cloak that will wrap around you and protect you," she says. "It can block the terror, the dark and most terrifying aspects of your own true self. It is soft, has lots of folds, and enfolds you. It can help you rest and breathe again for the time being, which is all we ever have." Can’t you just feel those words giving you a hug?

Showing mercy isn't an easy thing to do in this day and age, but it's something that's so very necessary. So many of us are struggling and hurting, and we need to be embraced and connect with each other. Because, as Annie states, "the last word will not be our bad thoughts and behavior, but mercy, love, and forgiveness."

Sure, people come in all different shapes, sizes, colors, religions, and ethnicities. But the bottom line is, despite all our differences, we are all human beings. And we all deserve mercy. And the way we start making that possible is to accept one another for what we are. In what I found to be the most powerful line in all of Hallelujah Anyway, Lamott tells us:

"Polite inclusion is the gateway drug to mercy."

On the first page of Chapter One, Annie writes about "scary, unsettling times--times "when we know that we need help or answers but we're not sure what kind…. We look and look, tearing apart our lives like we're searching for car keys in our couch, and we come up empty-handed. Then when we're doing something stupid, like staring at the dog's mismatched paws, we stumble across what we needed to find. Or even better, it finds us."

At this point in my life, when I’m going through still more trying times, I truly needed Hallelujah Anyway: Rediscovering Mercy. I’m so grateful that Anne Lamott put it out there for me to find. You should go find it, too. I guarantee it will make you feel better and give you a little bit of hope for the world we live in today.

Late-Night/Early-Morning Gratitude

I'm not sure exactly what time it was--I'm guessing maybe 1:00 or 2:00am--when I got up to pee in the middle of the night last night. (Something us middle-aged men do a lot of. Also, should I be concerned that this is my second blog post in a row that talks about urine?)

While I was in the bathroom, I heard a loud voice coming in from the slightly open window. My first thought was that my younger son and a couple of friends he had over were being loud in the family room, but I wanted to be sure before I went downstairs to tell them to lower the volume a notch.

So I opened the window a little more and listened.

What I heard wasn't the voice of a 20-something male. Instead it was a 30-something female neighbor who lives in a house on the street behind us. She was obviously out on her deck, on her cell phone, having a frantic conversation with someone.

I didn't listen long, but I didn't have to in order to understand what was bothering this woman so much: She found out her husband is having an affair.

She told the person on the other end of the conversation that she discovered some incriminating texts on her husband's phone. And that her husband's office smelled like...well, let's just say "sex." She also wondered why her husband would "want it" from someone so unattractive, saying "I wouldn't mind so much if she was hot."

I only listened to this conversation for about 30 seconds, but that was probably too long. And I probably shouldn't be writing about it either. But I can't help it. Because hearing this conversation--which was, by the way, loud and clear despite the fact that there are hundreds of feet between my upstairs bathroom window and this woman's deck--made me feel two things.

1.) I felt incredibly bad for the woman. She just had a baby a few months ago and now her world is shattering around her. I can't imagine how that must feel. I even told my wife today that we should ask the woman over for dinner. But we don't know her, so such an invitation coming from out of the blue would likely be pretty suspicious.

2.) When I finished peeing, I couldn't help but go back to bed feeling overwhelmingly grateful. Grateful that I have an amazing wife, and that our marriage--which is almost 28 years young now--is rock solid. I can't imagine ever being with anyone else; and I'm pretty sure my wife feels the same way.

Life is a challenge, for sure. My wife and I have encountered a whole lot of difficult situations that we never expected. But we've navigated our way through them the best way we know how. As a result, our relationship has grown stronger. And I'm forever grateful for that.

Like my friend Matthew Ryan likes to say, "Teamwork makes the dream work." And marriage is the ultimate team game.

I'm keeping the neighbor behind me in my thoughts and prayers today. I hope she can find some peace in her world sooner rather than later. No one should ever have to feel what she was feeling late last night/early this morning.

"A good marriage is where both people feel like they're getting the better end of the deal." --Anne Lamott

Me with my (way) better half.

Of Depression, Parenting, and...Cat Pee

It's been a difficult week in my world.

On Tuesday, a Facebook friend of mine's status update was, in fact, a suicide note. It started with "I began to think about ending my life several weeks ago" and ended with "I'm tired. SO I got the gun, loaded it up, and blew my head off." Despite a long thread of comments begging and pleading this person to please, please, please reconsider taking his own life, he went through with it. Now a teenage girl is left without a father.

On Wednesday, another Facebook friend posted that her 21-year-old son had gone missing. He left the house for school at 4 o'clock in the afternoon and hasn't been heard from since. They found the car he drove to school, but that's about it. It's a parent's worst nightmare and I'm praying hard for a happy ending for this family.

On top of those two things, my older son is still stuck in a major depressive episode. I know I recently wrote that I wasn't going to focus on my son and his issues in my blog posts anymore, but I feel I would be remiss if I didn't at least mention his ongoing struggle.

Pardon my language, but depression is a fucking bitch, and like addiction it's a family disease. When one of your children is battling depression and talks about wanting to die more than they talk about wanting to live, you can't help but be consumed by it. Especially when that child refuses to try so many things that could possibly help them feel better.

Depression is a black hole of despair. When someone is in it, it's so incredibly hard for them to think there could be a way out. So they build walls around themselves and isolate. Deep down inside, they may actually want help, but they firmly believe that nothing will make a difference; so they don't even try. It doesn't matter how much you love and encourage them. The circular thinking--I want help but nothing will help me so why try anything because it won't help?--is maddening to the people who care the most.

Especially parents.

Yesterday my wife and I took one of our cats to the vet for a check-up because the cats in our house have been acting kind of strange for a while. (For what it's worth, our cats fit perfectly into our family. One of them even takes birth control pills for dogs to help him with a chemical imbalance in his brain.) We got to talking with the doctor about changes in our household environment that may be influencing the cats' behavior and mentioned that our son was back living at home and going through a major depression.

When he heard that, the doctor paused for a moment. He then told us that he had lost his oldest son, who also struggled with addiction, to suicide. We had a good conversation about addiction, depression, stigma, and how it all impacts the entire family. He said our cats may be acting weird because our son is home and feeling so low. And because our son is feeling bad, my wife and I are affected, too. ("You're only as happy as your saddest child," the doctor reminded us. Ain't that the truth.) Cats can sense when the humans they love aren't at their best, and that can sometimes lead to some bizarre feline behavior.

I confess: I don't like cleaning up cat pee from the basement floor or the front hallway. But in the grand scheme of things, it's just a minor inconvenience. So I'll keep doing it as long as I have to. Perhaps the cats' stray peeing will stop if my son can somehow find his way back to a happier place. I know he can do it. But until he decides he can do it--and I hope and pray he will eventually get to that point--I will keep the paper towels and disinfectant close at hand.

"I felt like my heart had been so thoroughly and irreparably broken that there could be no real joy again, that at best there might eventually be a little contentment. Everyone wanted me to get help and rejoin life, pick up the pieces and move on, and I tried to, I wanted to, but I just had to lie in the mud with my arms wrapped around myself, eyes closed, grieving, until I didn’t have to anymore." --Anne Lamott

Crying on the Way Home from Costco

It's been just over a week since I announced some changes to this blog. In a nutshell, I've taken the focus off of my son and will be blogging more about addiction, recovery, mental health, and just life in general. So if you don't abandon this blog entirely, you'll likely end up reading about some of the things I'm passionate about, like cooking, music, or helping others. Or you might get stuck reading about things that happen to me in my everyday life. Like this post about something that happened earlier today.

This morning I decided to go to Costco to pick up a beef brisket flat to smoke sometime over the next few days. My wife and I are having an event at our house on October 7th and I've committed to smoking brisket for the occasion. Since I've only smoked brisket a handful of times since I bought a smoker a couple of years ago, I decided I'd do a practice run. It can't hurt, right? As I told my wife, "I want to do a test run before the actual cook," which sounded very Walter White-ish.

Off to Costco I went, which is always an adventure and a challenge. Trying to get out of that store without spending your entire checking account should be an Olympic event. Could that advertising tagline I see Costco using on Facebook be any more spot-on?

"Go for what you need, leave with what you love."

Right???!!!

Despite my best intentions of going to Costco and only buying a beef brisket, I did end up leaving with more than I came for. But not that much more. The only additional items I caved to were a 4-pack box of organic Triscuits (on sale!) and two pairs of Levi's (one for me and one for my wife). I consider that pretty damn good for a Costco run.

On the drive home from Costco I was feeling fine. The sun was shining and I had Matthew Ryan's May Day album blasting on the stereo. I even gave the "homeless" person at the top of the freeway exit ramp a dollar, which I never do. (I use quotation marks around homeless because I don't think the guy is actually homeless; I think panhandling might just be his job. But I could be wrong.)

But as I started traversing the surface streets on the last leg of my ride home, something unexpected happened: I started crying. And this wasn't just an I-feel-sad-so-I'm-gonna-get-a-little-teary-eyed kind of cry. It was a full-on tears-running-down-both-of-my-cheeks-while-I-bawl-like-a-baby cry.

I started crying, out of the blue.

Now I'll be the first one to admit that I cry on a pretty regular basis. Not every other day or anything like that, but at least a few times a month. I find absolutely nothing wrong with crying, or with a man crying (God forbid!). Like Anne Lamott writes, "I cry intermittently, like a summer rain. I don't feel racked by the crying; in fact, it hydrates me."

Crying helps me. It always has. I consider crying to be my body's way of cleansing itself of an overload of emotions. Most of the time those emotions are negative, but I've cried a lot of happy tears, too. Regardless of what I'm feeling, if I'm feeling too much of it, crying always helps. So much so that back when I had an actual job and I was going through some tough times at home, I would book a conference room on occasion just so I could go sit and cry in private. (You've gotta do what you've gotta do.)

There was no particular reason why I started crying on the way home from Costco. I think it was just an accumulation of some very emotional stuff that's been going on in my life for the last few weeks. I was feeling too much, and my body decided it would open the relief valve and let the excess emotion out.

My cry only lasted a minute or two, but damn--it made me feel rejuvenated.

My penchant for crying might be strange for a 54-year-old man. I don't really know, and I don't really care. I'm an emotional person, and I'd rather "cry it out" than keep everything bottled up inside. Lord knows that's not healthy. I also kind of wonder where I picked up my crying gene (is that a thing?), because I never saw my dad cry. Never ever. I can't even imagine my dad crying. That just wouldn't have been manly. Come to think of it, I don't think I witnessed any grown man cry until I was in my mid-20s and saw my mom's father cry when his wife died.

My grandfather was overwhelmed with emotion. He felt too much and he cried to let it out. I'm so glad I got to see that, because it taught me something about life:

There's nothing wrong with crying. No matter who you are.

"Do not apologize for crying. Without this emotion, we are only robots." --Elizabeth Gilbert in Eat, Pray, Love

Announcing Our 2016 Scholarship Contest Winners

First off, I want to apologize for taking so long to write this post and announce the winners of the 2016 My Life As 3D Scholarship Essay Contest. Sometimes life just gets in the way and that thing on the top of your to-do list keeps getting pushed further and further down the list by other pesky little tasks that come up out of nowhere. But anyway...

As I posted a few weeks ago, this year's contest had 29 entries from 15 different states, stretching from California to New Jersey. The topic for this contest was How has your sibling's addiction impacted you and what are your dreams for your future? All of the essays were amazing and it was incredibly difficult to pick the two best. But since I don't have money to give to everyone--believe me, I wish I did--there can only be one winner and one runner-up.

(Drumroll, please.)

This year's first-prize winner is Carolyn Robbins from Chelsea, Michigan. She will receive $1,500.00 to help pay her tuition at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, where she is studying political science and history. Carolyn's essay, entitled "Healing with Love," is about her little brother Eric.

This year's runner-up is Katie Walker from Clay, Michigan. She will receive $550.00 to help offset the cost of her tuition at Arcadia University in suburban Philadelphia, where she is studying political science. Katie's essay, entitled "Two Years," is about her brother.

Both of these young women submitted essays that are beautifully written and full of honesty and emotion. When you read them--and I'll be publishing the essays on my blog very soon--I advise you to have some Kleenex handy. You're going to need it.

My wife and I would like to thank everyone who took the time to write an essay and enter the contest.  Writing about a sibling's addiction takes a lot of courage and we think you're all pretty special people. We wish you nothing but the best going forward. And by all means, keep on writing. Thanks to the judges, too. We so appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedules to read and judge the essays.

Peace. And remember: #SiblingsMatter

"Writing and reading decrease our sense of isolation. They deepen and widen and expand our sense of life: they feed the soul." --Anne Lamott

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes for My Blog

Today is a day of change for me and this blog. As I type this post, my blog is still called "My Life As 3D: 3D-mensional Musings from the Father of a Person in Long-Term Recovery from Addiction." But as soon as I finish, I'll be deleting the subtitle from the header. Starting today, the name of this blog will simply be "My Life As 3D." At least until I maybe think of some other witty subtitle to go after a colon.

I've decided to permanently take the primary focus of my blog off of my son. I know the focus has shifted off of him in recent years anyway, but this is my way of making it "official." It's time to move on. From here on out, my blog will still concentrate on addiction, recovery, mental health, and other things I'm passionate about, but it will be from a more general perspective. Hell, I may even start posting about other stuff I love, like cooking. (You've been warned!)

This isn't the first time I've thought about making this change. Back in June of 2009, in a post titled "We Gotta Stay Positive," I wrote the following:

I've also been thinking about taking the main focus of this blog off of my son's issues and throwing in some more stuff about me. Yes, I started this blog to loosely document what goes on in the life of a parent of a recovering addict who also suffers from severe depression. And since I started the blog, writing about that stuff has been good therapy for me. But lately I've been coming to terms with something: Even though my son's issues are a huge part of my life, I've got to work harder to see past the negatives and not let my son consume me 24/7/365. If I don't, I think it'll kill me. 

Granted, I'm not the most interesting person in the world. But I do love to cook. And I do love music. So if I blogged about the latest hunk of meat I grilled, or posted a favorite recipe, or recommended an album that I'm currently digging, would that be such a bad thing? I'm thinking it still might be kinda sorta interesting to the two of you. And even if it wasn't, maybe the different subject matter would help generate some positive vibes inside my tired, too-often-negative mind. That would definitely make it worthwhile, no

So stay tuned for the new and improved (and perhaps slightly more upbeat) "My Life As 3D" blog. Coming soon. I think. 

Obviously, I wasn't ready to make the change back then. That "I think" at the end of the third paragraph was my way of saying "I reserve the right to change my mind"; and I did. But here we are, more than seven years later and the time has come.

The biggest contributing factor to me making this decision now is a piece in the Well section of the New York Times that I read this past Sunday. Penned by writer/blogger Elizabeth Bastos, "Why I Decided to Stop Writing About My Children" really hit home with me. Especially this paragraph:

"So began my wrestling with my relationship with the Nora Ephron line, 'Everything is copy.' Until now it has been my battle cry and artistic excuse for printing whatever I wanted whenever I wanted with very blinkered vision. Maybe, in fact, not everything is copy. Maybe it’s people’s lives, and we should be considerate and loving and respectful of their privacy. It’s a new point of view for me in our clickbait culture of confessionalism and parading nakedness."

Bastos went on to admit, "I was working out my issues. My kids were always satellites to the big round-faced moon of me."

I could definitely relate to all of that.

One of the reasons I started this blog back in December of 2008 was to help other parents who were struggling with a child's addiction. I thought my experiences could help those parents realize that they weren't alone; that other parents were in the exact same boat as they were, suffering and trying to figure out how to get through another day of hell on earth. And I think I did that.

But I also know the primary reason I started this blog was to help me. Writing about my son's issues was cathartic for me. It made everything more bearable for me and gave me an outlet for the feelings I was feeling. It felt so good to get things off of my chest and onto "paper." Writing about things like my son's relapses didn't fix anything, but it made me feel better.

Maybe that was selfish. Maybe putting my son's life "out there" for the world to see was exploitive. That was certainly not my intent.

In his book Neil and Me, newspaper writer and author Scott Young--father of rock and roll legend Neil Young--talks about his hesitancy to write about his son, even though he constantly received requests to do so.

"Apart from a profoundly impressed column I wrote about his first Carnegie Hall concert and a few other newspaper mentions, I had consciously avoided exploiting our relationship....I told [Neil] that, despite my rejection of these advances, sometimes I was tempted to write about our original family relationship for my own purposes, to help me figure some things out, to come face to face with myself and my part in breaking up our home....He thought for a moment or two, then glanced at me sideways and said, 'Well, it's your life too, you know, Daddy.'"

Whenever I wondered if I should write about certain things in my blog, I remember thinking about Neil Young's "It's your life too" comment to his father and using it as justification for continuing to write about my son. A passage from Anne Lamott's book Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life popped into my head on a regular basis, too:

"You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better."

I've been incredibly transparent throughout everything that's happened to my son and our family. I wanted to be, because I think too many people keep their family's experience with addiction and mental illness behind closed doors. I believe that helps feed the stigma that's still attached to these disorders. (Don't get me wrong: I understand that everyone's different and that a lot of people aren't at all comfortable with wearing their family's problems on their sleeve. I'm just not one of those people.)

So, what's done is done. From this point forward, I'll still write about addiction, mental health, problems with "the system," etc. You just won't hear specifics about my son. His life might be my life too, but at this point I'm going to let him decide what parts of it he wants to share. Hopefully, I'll be able to keep this blog interesting enough for you to keep stopping by on occasion. If so, that will be great. And if not? Well, then it's been a good run.

Peace.

"Moving on is easy. It's staying moved on that's trickier." --Katerina Stoykova Klemer

Passing on Hope to Others

Ten years or so ago, when I first discovered that my son had issues with addiction, I was devastated. I didn't want anything to do with the world of addiction and recovery. I just wanted the whole situation to go away. Little did I know that a decade later I would find myself right in the middle of that world, doing whatever I can to help others.

It's amazing how adversity or tragedy can spark a passion inside of us. You see it all the time. Like people who lose a loved one to gun violence and then pour themselves into advocating for better gun laws. That's not something those people planned on doing; instead, it became something they had to do.

As I wrote in a blog post back in October, I didn't choose this work, it chose me. Lord knows, I don't do it for money. I do it for people and families who are struggling, because I want them to know that things can work out okay. I do it because, in their darkest moments, people need hope. They need to know that things can get better.

I do it for people like Mark.

Back in early January, I received an email from Mark. I don't know Mark, but he told me about his struggles with alcohol, and I replied to him. Today, Mark emailed me again with an update.

With Mark's permission, I'm sharing our email exchange with you. By doing so, maybe we can, in Mark's words, "Pass on the hope to others."

Peace.

**********

Email from Mark to me on January 2, 2016:

Dean, 

My name is Mark. Today once again I know I need to make a change but fear I can't. You see I've been in recovery since 2003. I have relapsed several times and I'm afraid to tell my family. My wife told me if I ever drank again she would leave me. I have three beautiful daughters. I'm afraid of losing them also. I was a leader in a faith based recovery group. I feel I have let all of those people down. I have a business that is collapsing around me. I work in the oilfield and it is hard times right now for that kind of business. All of these things and more are wearing me down. I know I need to tell my family about drinking again but I don't even know where to start. I'm not sure why I'm sending you an email. I've been reading stories on Heroes in Recovery and your name keeps popping up. What hurts me the most is how I enjoyed helping others. Telling my story. Now I feel like a hypocrite and feel like I can never get that back. I have to make a change and I need to do it now. Any words of encouragement or ideas that might help I would greatly appreciate it. 

Sincerely,

Mark


My reply to Mark on January 3, 2016:

Mark,

I'm sorry you're struggling, but I'm glad you reached out.

I know you want to quit drinking, because you took the time to contact me and tell me. Maybe you've relapsed a few times lately, but you recognize that you have a problem. And you want to attack that problem again. So, yes...Here you go again. But you know what? Sobriety can take a lot of practice because it's a learned behavior. It takes constant practice, and with learned behaviors we learn by failing. And we learn to be and do better from our mistakes. The relapses are NOT what define us. It's how we react to the relapses. So pick yourself up, brush yourself off, and get back on the recovery road.

Make a commitment to not drink for today. Or even for the next hour or minute if smaller chunks of time make it a little easier. And do your best to keep doing the next right thing. If you mix willingness with hope enough times, sobriety can happen. You know that, because you were sober for a long time. The fact that you've slipped up doesn't make you a failure, Mark. Or a hypocrite. It just means that you're human. Because humans make mistakes. I think your wife and daughters would understand that, assuming you are willing to bust your ass to get back on the right track. If you're willing to do that, I think your family will support you. And you know what? You can still help others by sharing your story. Because the truth about addiction and recovery is this: Someone's story doesn't necessarily end when they stop drinking or taking drugs. Recovery is not a destination, but a journey. And there are oftentimes bumps in the road on that journey. Part of the "story" is how you deal with those bumps.

By getting sober again you can show people that it's possible to falter and still get back on the right path. You can possibly be even more inspirational to those people than you've already been. So my recommendation is to get yourself back on your feet and start working hard to get back to sobriety. Do whatever you have to, Mark. Meetings, counseling, outpatient treatment, etc. Just don't sit there feeling sorry for yourself. Take some action to get back to where you've been. Show yourself that you are stronger than the alcohol. I know you can do it, my friend. Just go forward, be brave, and keep the faith.

Sending you peace, hugs, and positive, sober vibes.

--Dean


Email from Mark to me on February 4, 2016:

Dean,

I wanted to give you a update on how I've been doing since you sent me this email.

I have been clean and sober now since 1/2/16. Thank you so much for the email you sent me. It was full of encouragement, strength and hope.

My sponsor wanted me to give my testimony last Friday at our meeting (Celebrate Recovery). I was reluctant of course fooling myself that others would judge me. I had a couple of weeks to think about. During this time my heart was very heavy knowing that I didn't think I could get up on the altar and talk. To me it is a sacred place and how was I going to go up there and still be hiding my relapse from my wife and daughters.

Thursday came (the day before I was set to speak) and I knew either I had to back out or tell my wife. I prayed everyday for a year for God to give me the courage to do this. I always had a excuse not to. Now it was time. We watched a little television as we usually do before bed. She was ready to go to sleep but I knew this was the time. I shut off the tv and told her I had something to tell her. It just came out.

I was fully prepared to pack my bags, hopefully kiss my girls goodbye and leave. That's not at all what happened. She let me talk. She told me she was sad and disappointed but would stand by my side just like she had always done. What a weight off my shoulders!

Why did she not kick me out as she promised so many years ago? Only God knows the answer to that. I really do not know how lucky I am to have a wonderful wife like I have. One by one I told my daughters the next day. They all took it the same way as their mother.

Disappointed but encouraged me to get back on track.

So here I am the next day. The day of my talk.The day my business will be closing.The price of fuel has forced me to do so. I have had a small oilfield delivery service( hot shot) for the past 6 1/2 years and I just couldn't make ends meet any longer. That night I was speaking at church, giving my testimony and touch on the subject of insanity and then sanity. I had planned this day out a couple of months ok. I didn't figure on coming out the other side certainly not giving my testimony and being sober. This was the case though. My words came out clear and spot on. God was there every step of the way. This day did not happen by accident. How blessed I was and lucky to be where I'm at today!

Today I'm looking for a job after 11 years working in one way or another for myself. Bill collectors calling everyday and the same stress that has been there but what's different is I have a new beginning. I'm going to my meetings. Making my calls. Feeding the homeless on the weekends and praying that God will let me be his hands and feet everyday. I'm not doing these things for a pat on the back or for someone to say "great job" I'm doing them to stay sober. To come back stronger than I ever was.

I'm taking it one day at a time, hour by hour, minute by minute and second by second. I just wanted to let you know that taking the time to email me back and give me your words of encouragement made a difference in my life. Thank you my friend and may God bless you and your family.

Mark

"Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: you don't give up." --Anne Lamott

A Great Quote from Anne Lamott

While finishing up Anne Lamott's Some Assembly Required: A Journal of My Son's First Son yesterday, I came across this line that I absolutely loved. I just wanted to share it with you all.

"Laughter lifts the phonograph needle out of the scratches on my heart's album."

Sometimes laughter truly is the best medicine, people. Never forget that.

Peace.

The End of My Month-Long Causes and Effect Blog Run

(Note: For the month of December, I took over the Causes and Effect: My Year of Giving Daily blog, which was created by Melinda Newman in 2013. Today was my thirty-first and final post for that blog. The words below made up the majority that post, entitled "Three Final Donations to Wrap us 2015.")

I have a confession to make:

I almost backed out of taking over this blog for the month of December.

When I found out late last year that Causes and Effect creator Melinda Newman was looking for 12 individuals to take over the reins of the blog in 2015, I was quick to throw my name into the ring. And I was incredibly excited when I got picked to be one of the blog's writers for a whole month. The only downside was that I was assigned to December and had to wait almost a whole year before I could dive into writing.

Then life happened.

Despite being grossly underemployed for the second year in a row, 2015 was a great year for me. But the lack of a decent income reared its ugly head around mid-year when a series of unfortunate events started to happen. At times I felt a bit like Lemony Snicket.

First the washing machine broke. Not surprising, really, since it came with the house when we bought it ten years ago, and it had probably been in the house at least ten years before that. Buying a new one was inevitable. While we were at it, my wife and I decided to splurge and buy a matching dryer, too. After all, the dryer was also pretty ancient, and we had never bought a brand new washer or dryer before. So forking over the money for a shiny pair of appliances wasn't that painful.

Speaking of pain, as 2015 went along I started waking up with a sore back and neck with some regularity, which I attributed to the fact that our mattress was about 15 years old. So my wife and I opened up the checkbook to buy a new mattress and foundation.

See, that's the problem when you age: everything you own ages, too. And it needs replacing. Like our gas range, which decided to die in the middle of baking a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies in late October. And the custom canvas awnings above our front and side doors that got shredded in a November wind storm and had to be replaced. Again, these were things that came along with the house and had just worn out. (For what it's worth, I had no idea that awnings could be so damn expensive.)

Things settled down a bit until some annoying episodes of atrial fibrillation--an irregular heart rhythm--started kicking my ass. After almost 18 years of having that condition kept in check by medication, I decided to have a catheter ablation done on my heart to try and fix the problem permanently. Because we buy our own health insurance, which has a pretty high deductible, that procedure ended up costing us quite a bit out-of-pocket. It was definitely well worth it, but it was also another unexpected expense incurred in 2015.

Lastly, just to put some icing on the proverbial cake, my wife and I bought a second car late in the year. Having one car is something we've done for a long time, but sometimes it's a bit inconvenient. So when the opportunity to buy a 2007 Ford Focus that a friend of ours was selling at a ridiculously good price presented itself, we figured what the hell. (Believe it or not, the car was the cheapest of all the purchases I've mentioned in this post.)

Now back to my concerns about this blog. It wasn't the writing that I was worried about; it was the money. Because the idea behind Causes and Effect isn't only to write about charities and good causes, it's to donate to them, too. At least $10.00 a day times 31 days meant that my family would be spending at least another $310.00 during the month of December (which is more than we paid for the Focus!).

I wondered if I should just throw in the towel and tell Melinda that I couldn't do the blog. Surely she'd understand. And it wasn't like she wouldn't be able to find somebody else to do it, right? But something inside of me told me to stick with it.

There are two things I know about money:

1. It really isn't everything.

2. There's always somebody who needs it more than you do.

I think that's the essence of the Causes and Effect blog. The idea that giving, even if it sometimes hurts a little, is the most incredibly rewarding thing you can do. Knowing that you are helping others and making a difference, no matter how small, just makes you feel good.

Writing the Causes and Effect blog this month has been one of the most amazing, gratifying things I've ever done. It's taught me so much, not just about writing--like how hard it is to sit down and write a reasonably meaningful piece every single day--but about life. I’m so glad I didn't back out of this wonderful opportunity.

Thanks to Melinda Newman (and Brian Mansfield) for having faith in my ability to take care of this blog for 31 days. Hopefully I've done a decent job. And a very special thanks to my wife, Kathy, for her willingness to let Causes and Effect become an integral part of our lives for the month of December. I couldn’t have done it without her.

Now let's just hope the refrigerator, dishwasher, and furnace behave themselves for a while longer.

"Gratitude begins in our hearts and then dovetails into behavior. It almost always makes you willing to be of service, which is where the joy resides....When you are aware of all that has been given to you, in your lifetime and the past few days, it is hard not to be humbled, and pleased to give back." --Anne Lamott

Causes and Effect, 12/31/15: The Partnership for Drug-Free Kids, Shatterproof, and the Herren Project

The thirty-first--and final--post of my month-long stint as writer of the Causes and Effect: My Year of Giving Daily blog can be found over at Tumblr. Here's the link to today's post:

Three Final Donations to Wrap up 2015

Today, three separate charities--the Partnership for Drug-Free Kids, Shatterproof, and the Herren Project--are recipients of $10.00 donations from my family. If you would like to make a contribution to any (or all) of these charities, you can do so at these links:

The Partnership for Drug-Free Kids

Shatterproof

The Herren Project

Thirty-one down. No more to go. I'm done. It's been a great ride.

Peace.

Causes and Effect, 12/25/15: St. Andrew Church

The twenty-fifth post of my month-long stint as writer of the Causes and Effect: My Year of Giving Daily blog can be found over at Tumblr. Here's the link to today's post:

St. Andrew Church: "The Sweetest Place on Earth"

Today, St. Andrew Presbyterian Church in Marin City, California, is the recipient of a $100.00 donation from my family. If you would like to make a contribution to St. Andrew Church, you can send a check to them at this address:

St. Andrew Church
101 Donahue
Marin City, CA 94930

Twenty-five down down, six to go.

Peace. And merry Christmas to you and yours.

What I've Been up To

I got to thinking this morning that a lot of you out there might be wondering what I've been up to. After all, it's been more than a month since I've posted a "real" post on this blog. So let me explain.

The last month of my life has been super busy. Between flare-ups of my atrial fibrillation, the decision to finally go ahead with a heart ablation, getting that procedure done, and taking over the Causes and Effect daily giving blog for December...well, let's just say things have been a bit chaotic. And on top of all that, I'm still doing freelance writing, helping moderate online forums about drug abuse and recovery, and looking for a full-time job.

It's funny. I haven't had a full-time job in more than two years now, but somehow I seem to be busier than ever, albeit with less money. And that's okay.

Just know that I'm still around, and that I'm still working my butt off to help break the stigma associated with addiction, although I get a bit sidetracked sometimes.

For the time being, you can expect me to post daily links to my Causes and Effect blog posts. I'm 14 days into that run and have 17 more to go. After that, things will calm down a bit and I should be able to get back on a more regular "My Life as 3D" schedule.

FYI, my ablation happened on the ninth of this month and went off without a hitch. My electrophysiologist said he was "very aggressive" and that I'm "going to be good." So far, he's right. My heart rhythm feels as normal as it ever has. Here's hoping it stays that way.

My son is also doing well. His depression still creeps up on him from time to time, but I think he's close to agreeing to see the new psychiatrist I mentioned here a while back. Fingers and toes crossed on that one.

Thanks for reading my blog, people. I really appreciate the support. You have no idea. And a special thanks to Anne Lamott, who blew my mind over on Twitter today. I'm posting a screenshot of her tweet below, but if you want to see it "live," you can do so at this link:

How Anne Lamott Blew My Mind Today

Peace and hugs.

Mind. F*cking. Blown.

Causes and Effect, 12/14/15: Help Ingrid Recover from Surgery (GoFundMe Campaign)

The fourteenth post of my month-long stint as writer of the Causes and Effect: My Year of Giving Daily blog can be found over at Tumblr. Here's the link to today's post:

Helping an Artist Get Back on Her Feet

Today, the Help Ingrid Recover from Surgery GoFundMe campaign is the recipient of a $10.00 donation from my family. If you would like to make a contribution to this campaign, you can do so here:

Help Ingrid Recover from Surgery GoFundMe page

Fourteen down, seventeen to go.

Peace.