TAKE PRIDE AND WALK IN YOUR SHOES

I found this column I wrote in the paper several years ago...it still applies and is important.

Two weeks ago, I wrote about today’s society needing an attitude adjustment when it comes to people who are not your basic size 0 to 10. I stated that many people today look at a heavy person and immediately judge that they are slovenly, lazy and unhealthy and treat them with disgust and that I had allowed this type of attitude to rule my life. I asked everyone to take a moment and walk in my shoes. I truly expected some backlash in e-mails for being so frank and open but this truly is the way I feel and there were no negative responses.

Now it is time to address those who are overweight or obese in society. Unfortunately, I realize there are some who do send the message that we are slovenly and lazy. I am not criticizing, as I know that an overweight person’s self-esteem suffers immensely.

The mind of an overweight person is our number one downfall. It allows others to influence us in a negative way. Many suffer to a point that they no longer care for themselves at all. I had a sister-in-law who was obese. She was a very highly educated woman who was a professor at a college and a successful business woman. She dressed in suits and participated in community organizations.

Over the years, weight caught up with my sister-in-law and it succeeded in pushing down her self-esteem. She stopped wearing make-up, dressed in sweat pants and sloppy clothes. Her hair looked at if it hadn’t been combed in a week. She hardly went out of the house and barely moved off the couch. It broke my heart when her grandson visited me at the age of 6 and told me, “Aunt Sissy. You remind me of my Grammy. (I’m sure it was my size.) She used to hug me like you but then she couldn’t get her arms around me. I hope you can always get your arms around me.” I promised Cade then and there that I will always be able to get my arms around him and hug him tight. I firmly believe that my sister-in-law’s weight was the main cause of her severe depression and dependency on pain pills for a back pain. It all began with her weight.

My dear sister-in-law passed away in her 50’s. My regret is that I lived over 1,200 miles away and was not there with the knowledge that I now have with my own obesity. Maybe I could have made a difference.

If you are an overweight person, please know that you do deserve to dress up and look presentable. Do not give me the excuse that you cannot afford the clothing. Years ago we only had specialty shops to buy bigger sizes and it cost a fortune. Today I often go to Walmart or other discount stores and find very presentable clothing at prices anyone can afford. There is no excuse. Pay attention to how you look when you leave the house. I may be in sweats or shorts at home but you will never see me in shorts in public.

If you are an overweight person, please know that you have the right to go to a beauty salon to have your hair styled, nails done or a pedicure. If you go into a salon and they treat you like you don’t belong there, don’t give up. Find another salon. I once went to a salon where they made me feel like only the model, skinny types could go there. I felt the stares and no one made me feel comfortable. I kept trying until I found a salon that I was happy with.

When you are happy with someone, let them know. They don’t realize how an obese person feels in these situations. I called the owner of Cuttin Loose, Julie Nicotra, and told her that, as an obese woman, I am very insecure about going to places for personal services but her staff has always made me feel like I deserved to be there, and more importantly, that they wanted me there! That is the feeling you need to have because you deserve to be treated that way!

Finally, if you feel you cannot get out and exercise because people will laugh at you, you are so wrong! I used to panic when they would make me run in the parking lot at Boot Camp. I could just imagine people going by and laughing at the fat old lady trying to run. After starting exercising, my fears melted away. I am amazed at how many people tell me they are proud of me for getting out there and doing it. I now have developed a pride in myself for doing it as well.

Who am I to tell you? I am no one special. I don’t have all the answers but I’m learning by walking through this journey. I even decided to start wearing my beloved saddle shoes. I like them. I deserve to wear them. I was walking in your shoes last December until I decided to polish my shoes.

I am asking you to get up and try polishing your shoes. Seek out the treatment you deserve. Get off the couch and try at least one exercise to start with. Put on make-up women! Shave and put on cologne men! Get your hair done. Take stock of your wardrobe and make a mental list of what is more presentable in the public.

Polish your shoes and get out and show others how to walk in them!

Surprise! Busy day and two delayed gifts at once!

Today I had Grammy Daycare in the morning and I went to my Bible study while Whitley went to the nursery. After, we ran to Walmart and picked up lunch at McDonalds for her. Then they came. Nespresso from my children...oh such wonderful coffee and Pioneer Woman Cake Stand from my sister...love it. Well her Mom came and picked her up and deliveries came.

It all starts here again after retirement

I have personally gone through many changes over the past year. It will be a year next month that we sold our forever home that we designed and built in Florida City, Florida. We then purchased a home in Land O Lakes (well Mr. Wonderful did as I could not go to see the home so we purchased it without me ever seeing it...total trust in my husband), downsizing like I never thought I could. Wow....all those years worth of things that had to be gone through. After moving out, I moved in with a friend from church as I still had a commitment at my job with John P. Maas, Esq. I managed his law office and for pleasure, was a columnist with the South Dade News Leader. Mr. Wonderful went back and forth from where I lived to our new house as he was renovating it. It was hard and after Christmas, my boss and I agreed that I could leave on March 30th of this year. March 30th came and I retired and moved to Land O Lakes. As I have told many, it took me a while but once I embraced downsizing, I became very happy with out home. I also tell everyone that I love where I live now but I definitely miss the people. I had so many friends and also clients who were like family and moving has taken me away from my safety net. Recently I have been reaching out more in order to meet more people in our area and I feel good about this. Finally, I really miss writing so I have decided to give rebirth to my Blog that I had started years ago and have never updated. My good friend Harry has encouraged me so here we go. I do hope that you will enjoy reading it, subscribe to it for updates and every now and then leave me a comment or two. As I tell my husband, I have no secrets and call it the way I see it so please...sit back and enjoy life through my eyes.

So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, adieu Adieu, adieu, to yieu and yieu and yieu” Walk in my Shoes with Doris Meneses Mar 22, 2019

So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, adieu Adieu, adieu, to yieu and yieu and yieu” Walk in my Shoes with Doris Meneses Mar 22, 2019 0 F The title of my column is a line from a very popular musical, The Sound of Music. Why would I use those lines? Well, I relate to music. If you know me personally or just by reading my columns, you certainly know that I love music. I play a little piano, played the drums in the bugle corps in high school and sang in all the choruses and special groups. I continue to sing to this day and I can share my emotions best through music. Today, I am using those musical lines to convey my message. “There´s a sad sort of clanging from the clock in the hall. And the bells in the steeple too. And up in the nursery an absurd little bird Is popping out to say "cuckoo". Cuckoo, cuckoo.” My three cuckoo clocks (I love cuckoos) have been removed from my walls, repaired at a shop and now rehung in a new location. “Regretfully they tell us Cuckoo, cuckoo. But firmly they compel us Cuckoo, cuckoo. To say goodbye. Cuckoo! To you.” Yes, it has come time for me to say goodbye. We are growing older and decided to make a move. As I have heard from many who move, the taxes and insurance rates in South Florida make it very costly to stay and retire here. The cuckoo clocks have now been hung on our new walls in Land O Lakes, Florida. They have said their final cuckoos to Homestead/Florida City after selling our home to a beautiful young family who cherish it as their “forever home” as we did. Their four boys will no doubt bring loads of friends and laughter into the home as our children did with their friends. Band parties in the pool. Prom couples coming home to lay on the trampoline and gaze at the stars far away from the city. Bonfires in the backyard. Family celebrations and gatherings. Regretfully, the cuckoos have said their last goodbyes and I am now saying mine. “So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, good night. I hate to go and leave this pretty sight.” Mr. Wonderful and I have lived here since a month after being married in 1975; first in Homestead and then in Florida City, way out west. We have seen both cities grow in leaps and bounds. We have watched new businesses and venues such as the Homestead-Miami Speedway and The Seminole Theatre become major assets to the area. Yes, what a pretty sight we hate to leave. “So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, adieu. Adieu, adieu, to yieu and yieu and yieu.” On Friday, March 29th, I will work my last day at the job that I have loved for the past 20 years. My boss in the law office has offered me so many opportunities over those years as Administrative Assistant and Bookkeeper. He often asked my opinion which I knew he valued. A few years ago, we even survived building an addition to the building together. My co-workers in the office are extremely special and will always be in my heart. We have laughed and cried together through all of the ups and downs of life. They are my friends, as is my boss. And then there are the clients, many of whom have become my close friends as well. Breakfast or dinner with them is not uncommon. It is funny how over the years people become close to your heart. It will be so hard to say goodbye to all. “So long, farewell, au revoir, auf wiedersehen. I´d like to stay and taste my first champagne.” Champagne can also represent the goodness in life. Goodness in people like our dear friend Charlotte Schmunk who offered us a home when ours sold before we thought it would. People like former resident Geraldine Champney who just celebrated her 100th birthday and who also offered us a home when our first home sold quickly. Giving hearts…the champagne of life. Oh don’t get me wrong…I have tasted the spirits when I visited local watering holes on my bucket list such as The Last Chance, the Redland Hotel and Simmons Bar. I’ve enjoyed visiting so many local venues with my stint as a columnist with the paper but now I must say, “So long…” “So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, goodbye. I leave and heave a sigh and say goodbye. Goodbye!” Not only a heavy sigh, but with tears as well. I cannot lie. I am excited and very scared at the same time. I am excited to have a new start and praying that all goes well but then fear creeps into my mind. Will we survive on a “fixed income”? Is this the correct thing to do? Will I be able to become entrenched in the new community and be embraced…truly embraced and valued…as Homestead and Florida City have embraced me? Just last week at lunch, a large group of people were sitting at a table near my husband and myself when one of the gentlemen came over smiling and asked, “Is this Mr. Wonderful? You don’t know us, we are from Ohio, but we read your column every week!” Also, a woman reached out to me through Facebook Messenger and told me that she wanted to meet me before “Homestead lost me.” Just these two little contacts from readers, and there have been many more, made me feel that maybe…. just maybe…I did something right! “So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, goodbye.” My job with the News Leader has always been a fun job. Back in the 90’s I did a few stories here and there and then tapered off. Several years ago, I approached the paper about doing a few stories on attending a Boot Camp at the YMCA. Well evidently you, the readers, enjoyed hearing about my physical suffering while I had such angst over the words I wrote. I never thought my writing was any good or interesting. I’ll never forget the first e-mail complaint I received regarding my “incorrect grammar.” I was in tears for days and discussed it with the editor and the publisher. I wanted to give up but somehow, a few stories here and there…even with my grammatical errors… grew into a weekly column. Who me? A columnist? I would never have imagined it! I guess the publisher and editor, Dale and Ann Machesic, had faith in my connection with the readers. I never professed to be a writer and had no education along those lines but putting my feelings down on paper and perhaps speaking for other people in my situation made me feel like I did something right (not write for those checking my grammar)! Ha…I had to do that. “Goodbye!” A few years ago, I pulled an April Fool’s joke in my column and said that it was my last column and I quit. Well readers, this is NOT an April Fool’s joke, and this is my final column. Over the past few years you have shared my loves with me. Sewing, Mr. Wonderful (I think he has finally accepted the name), my children and oh yes…my grands. You have shared my tears with me and helped and encouraged me during my late mother’s journey home to our Lord. You have prayed with me when diagnosed with appendix cancer. You have supported me in trying to understand being obese and supported my journey in weight loss and its ups and downs. Truly my heart is filled with the love you have all shown toward me and I am forever grateful for the opportunity that you have given me to once a week come into your homes or businesses and share my life with you. I will never forget you. So many friends. So many acquaintances. So many readers I do not even know. I am forever grateful to all. Always in my heart… “Cuckoo….Goodbye!” Love, Doris ------------------- From Dale Machesic, publisher, SDNL – Dear Doris. Dear friend. Dear fellow former Pennsyltuckian! Yes, that’s how we both have often heard our beloved birth-state referenced. Or ‘Pee-ayy’ as you taught all of your readers. When we first moved here back in 2010 you were writing occasionally for the News Leader. In your inimitable fashion with tongue sometimes in cheek and always with a smile in your beautiful heart. You have taught us much about this wonderful community. Remember when I took you to that fish fry and you discovered just how popular your column had become? Remember that dinner we enjoyed in the Keys with your Mom and family members? From the first News Leader Christmas parties when you opened up your home to these ‘new Yankees’ and Mr. Wonderful’s parrot taking that first chunk out of my finger, I have many cherished memories. You are much more than a valued member of our staff. You are and will always be my friend. I love you, you ‘old hen’, and will miss you more than 3rd grade recess!

The Big C - A New Chapter in my Open Book Life - My column revealing my cancer - June 14, 2013

This is one story I never imagined that I would be writing. I debated with myself whether to write it. I sought the advice of my family and friends whether I should write it. When I asked my publisher for advice, he told me to do what I think is right. It’s funny because the quietest, most private individuals in my immediate family were the ones who encouraged me to be open and, perhaps, it might help someone along the way. My column has always been about my life and I have been very up front about my life. I am the proverbial ‘open book’. I have always shared my feelings regarding my experience as an obese woman. About being a ‘Grammy’. About my Mr. Wonderful. Pretty much about anything that comes across my path. Filthy post office buildings, knuckleheads racing down the street in atv’s, my joyful experience at our treasure trove racetrack, clothing bins around town owned by questionable causes, my love for my family and friends. I am known as the person who says out loud or writes in public what other people think but may not necessarily voice. I now want to share with you what has been my secret since the beginning of this month. On June 5th, I was entered into a battle that I didn’t want any part of. But I really had no choice. That day, I went for a follow up visit with Dr. Todd Mangione, the surgeon who removed my appendix a week earlier. My friend, Phil, drove me as my husband was stuck in Ft. Lauderdale working and I still wasn’t supposed to be driving. Once there, I was called into the office where I was expecting the typical, “let me see the incisions, how are you feeling, you can drive, go back to your normal routine”…etc…etc. Dr. Mangione started off by asking me if my ears were burning all week. I asked why. He proceeded to tell me that I had been the topic of discussion between many doctors including Dr. Tershakovec, my gall bladder surgeon. Together, they think that I may end up being the luckiest woman in Homestead. I was very confused. He was very nicely breaking the news to me that colon cancer was found in my appendix. The big “C”. Cancer! Inside my head, some very serious screaming started. ”Not me. Can’t be! He must be wrong.” I thought, “Don’t cry…hold yourself together. Is this something I should cry about? Is this good news or bad news? It can’t be me with cancer! What is this nut saying?” My head was spinning out of control and I must have sounded like a bumbling idiot as all of a sudden my vocabulary was one word, “wow!” I said it over and over. He told me that it is extremely rare….almost unheard of to find cancer in the appendix. And it is usually late (in the development of the disease) when it is discovered. They explained that the appendix is actually a part of the colon. It is usually where the cancer travels to from the colon. Hence, the luckiest woman in Homestead comment and he repeated, “Yes, you can quote me on that if you decide to write about it. I’ll state it again. You just may be the luckiest woman in Homestead.” The cancer in my appendix was contained to the first layer and did not penetrate the other two layers of the appendix. He explained how I must now move forward and see a gastroentrologist for follow up with a colonoscopy and also an oncologist to see if the cancer is elsewhere in my body. Most likely they will not do a colonoscopy until 30 days after the surgery for the appendix. He told me that he knew it was a lot to take in at this moment and if needed, I could call him back with any questions I may have. Dr. Mangione was extremely caring and kind. My mind was swimming as I went through the routine of getting copies of my paperwork and the names and numbers of the doctors I was to follow up with. Wait a minute…an oncologist? That’s a doctor who deals with cancer……cancer….again I thought….not me…this cannot be happening to me! The pathology report has got to be wrong! I walked out of the office and met Phil. As we were walking, I held myself together as I explained what was just told to me. I think I was in shock and before we got in the truck, Phil said, “I think you need a hug.” A hug was just what I needed and I was glad that my good friend was there. Phil drove me home so that I could pick up my truck now that I could drive. Once I arrived home and Phil left, I sat in my living room and the tears flowed like Niagara Falls. Sobbing, I thought, surely this day was a dream. This can’t be happening to me. They say God doesn’t give you more than you can handle. At that moment I felt he was bombarding me. I had my gallbladder out 14 months ago, then my appendix and now this? After a good cry, I gathered myself up and went back to work. The moment someone asked me how my appointment went, I collapsed in tears again. I just never expected the Big C. Since that visit, I have run the gamut of emotions. Shock, doubt, sadness and anger are just a few. Emotionally, I find it very hard to tell people about it, and it’s even harder to keep it a secret from those who know me. Remember I’m an open book! As I stated in the beginning of my column, I debated whether or not to share this but I realize that I have so many friends and family who would feel left out if I did not tell them. Part of me feels very selfish writing about me but more of me wants to do the right thing. So let me confess. Writing is and has always been my therapy. I feel that getting this out in the open and writing about my journey will help me accept and confront the Big C. Second, I know that by telling everyone, God will be hearing many prayers on my behalf from friends, family and strangers, and one can never have too many prayers. And maybe my story will help someone else. There…..it is out in the open. I have or had cancer. Cancer has tried to make my body its home. It is what it is and I just pray that the appendix was the only spot and I will truly be as Dr. Mangione put it, “The luckiest woman in Homestead.” If not, I plan to put up one heck of a fight!

She's Gone - My column about my mother's passing - November 9, 2017

I got the call today while I was sitting at my desk at work. It was my brother. “Sissy, Mom passed away a little while ago.” Tears came and my voice was immediately filled with loud, choking sobs. I knew this was coming but I just couldn’t face it. The wonderful people in my office immediately gathered around me and then softly closed my door so I could deal with the many calls I would have to make. Daddy has been gone since 2000 but now Mom too? Yes, my mother, Marian Alice Hollenbach, age 89 years, 308 days old was gone. She would have turned 90 on December 27th of this year. The last of four siblings to pass away. My heart is broken. If you read my column, you know I have had a hard time dealing with my Mom’s deterioration since we moved her to Florida in January. Her short-term memory had failed and repetitious questions became the norm. Her tiny body began to fail her as years of smoking and a bad heart took its toll. I know many of you have gone through this as well because I received hugs out of nowhere from people who read my column and evidently know what this feeling was like. As I look at it now, I realize God gave me a gift in my mother’s failing health. We moved mother in with my brother Robert in Cape Coral in January. He bought a new home with her in mind where she had her own suite area with her own bathroom. It was perfect. Mother spent days in the pool, sunning and evenings dancing and dining with friends. She ate things she would have never eaten before and tried as many new things as she could. Robert was the perfect caretaker even though he has gone through a triple bypass himself. When mother’s mind began to falter, I told Robert, “You know, Mom is having the time of her life. She may not remember it but she certainly is having a wonderful time!” This was all thanks to him. When my Mom needed more care after several hospitalizations, I know it was hard for all of us to admit that she needed to be placed. Robert toured many facilities and then had me tour them as well. He picked the top of the line and once placed, he visited Mom every single day. If he couldn’t go, he made sure his friends did. What gift did God give me? He gave me the gift of being able to visit my Mom every few weeks so that I could spend time with her. The move to Florida was my blessing. In the past, I tried to make it to Pennsylvania at least once a year to visit but that was hard. Since January, I have been able to make visits as often as I could and spend time and talk with Mom. We looked at pictures and talked about the old times. Our children were able to visit their “Nana” with their spouses and their children. Oh, she loved the little ones. Several times during Mom’s decline, she looked at me and said, “Sissy I’m sorry you have to go through this with me.” What? I wasn’t sorry I had to do this. It was my pleasure. As I stood her up in the bathroom to clean her up, she said, “I’m sorry you have to take care of me and wipe me.” I laughed and told her she changed many of my diapers so now it was my turn. Wiping, cleaning, talking, laughing, answering those repetitious questions and yes crying...spending time with her…this was my blessing and I thank God for giving me this time. My brother Jay, still in Pennsylvania, stated that he felt bad he couldn’t see Mom as often. I explained to him that for years he was always there with her and now it was my time. Yes, often on the way home from those visits I cried all the way across Alligator Alley. Mr. Wonderful, our granddaughter Avery and myself visited my Mom on our way back from Tampa two weeks ago. The last time I saw her. I’ll never forget as we were leaving she asked for a candy and little Avery (5) opened a Hershey’s kiss, looked at Mom and then said, “OK but don’t bite my finger Nana!” She laughed. As I write this, tears are streaming down my face soaking my shirt but I don’t care. This dying process has been a journey that has been filled with good and bad. Tuesday we will fly to Pennsylvania to say good-bye to my Mom. It will be hard, but I know she will always be with me. Thank you for allowing me to share the most difficult journey I have faced. I just may need a hug when I return. Death is inevitable. Everyone has to do it, but at times…I still want my Mom.

So Moved - My column from November 2018

I’m so moved! Literally and physically! The day after Thanksgiving was Black Friday but there was no shopping to be done as friends and family came and helped us finish packing up our home west of Florida City for the big move. We have purchased a home in Land O Lakes, Florida and sold our home. We have until December 7th to be out but this past Monday the rented UHaul truck and our truck pulling a trailer, all loaded to the top, pulled out to head northwest. Now the fun part is that I was in that truck to travel up and I have never seen the home we purchased! Talk about trusting Mr. Wonderful! Anyway, we pulled in at night so I really could not see much. “Did I like the house?” is what everyone is asking. At first I was critical of several things. The bedrooms are small. Lightbulbs missing. Kitchen needs to be redone. The closets, although numerous, are smaller. Fireplace mantel is not big enough. As I unpacked boxes today, I realized that I still had my “big house” mentality and had to shift gears. That is when my attitude changed and my eyes opened. I do like the house and the more I put things into place, the clearer my vision becomes and I realize that this will be our final home and it will be wonderful. I now can see a smaller place to clean. The deer out front and all around. The canal in the back which is peaceful. A smaller...slower pace. I am embracing this. Tuesday we had a few college students come and help us unload. Because we plan to have the carpeting in the bedrooms ripped out and wood floors installed, boxes and furniture were loaded into the living area. And did we have boxes! Never having seen the home, I did not know what would fit and what wouldn’t. We have downsized from a huge 4/2 with two - 2 car garages, living room, family room, dining room, office/laundry room into a 3/2 with a great room and a small two car garage. So here I sit on Tuesday evening writing my column. Also sitting are several pieces of furniture that I have decided to sell as it is just too much. Tomorrow my good friend who used to live in Homestead and now lives in Brandon, close by, will come and help me unpack. Wait...I am not leaving Homestead for good just yet. I promised my wonderful boss at the law office I manage, that I would work until October 31st of next year. We will travel back and forth while staying with a friend from church in Homestead who has graciously offered for us to move in with her. Still in Homestead. It has been and interesting and exhausting month to say the least. We closed on the sale of our home on one day and closed on the purchase of the new home the next day. Exciting and stressful. I have decided that I never want to move again. I am tired. This is it but you still have me until next October. So moved!

Great Care at Homestead Hospital - My column on my emergency appendectomy that started my trail of appendix cancer that I did not know when I wrote this- Jun 7, 2013

Last year in February I had emergency surgery to remove my gallbladder. I never had any of the typical signs, just one severe attack. I was a patient at Baptist Hospital at Homestead and had wonderful care, but I have heard others speak about bad service at the hospital and just couldn’t understand the comments. This year, on the Friday of the Memorial Day weekend, I just didn’t feel right. I thought I had a bad bladder infection or a pulled muscle as I had a sharp pain when I stood up. The next day, the dull pain was still there but again, only when I stood up. I decided to swim some laps and see how it went, and I was fine. I sat all that day and sewed, but when I stood up around 4 p.m., the pain hit again. Finally around 6, Mr. Wonderful, kind guy that he is, said he didn’t want to be in the emergency room at 3 in the morning so make up my mind. I knew I had to go. Arriving at Homestead Hospital in the emergency room, I cringed as it seemed like every person in Homestead was there and they all brought their kids. I thought I would never get taken in and wondered if I should go home. Sitting there, I had a clear view of how people use the emergency room for a doctor’s office. Fortunately, I was taken in quickly and the nurse processed my paperwork and without my asking, took it upon herself to find a larger gown for me. I appreciated her consideration as I am a large woman and feel very embarrassed when the gown doesn’t fit. Next came the blood work, cardiogram, cat scan and boom, I was diagnosed with a mucous sac on my appendix that was infected and everything was “grossly distended.” I was told that I might escape surgery, but would be admitted to the hospital on high doses of antibiotics. Mr. Wonderful went home and I arrived in my room around 2:30 a.m. The next morning, my nurse came in first thing and told me I was being prepped for surgery! I was shocked as I thought I didn’t need surgery and what part were they going to take out now? The surgeon, Dr. Todd Mangione, a handsome young guy, soon came in and explained everything to me. I had a mucocele sac on my appendix that was infected and everything had to come out. I couldn’t believe it, not again! I asked the doctor to please take out anything else that was lying around in there as I was tired of having surgery. Then I called Mr. Wonderful and was on my way to pre-op where again, the nurses were wonderful. In the pre-op, the anesthesiologist gave me the run down, I met the very nice operating room nurse and Mr. Wonderful showed up to see me off. I love that cocktail they give you before you go into the operating room because I don’t remember anything after that. Surgery went well, however, when I returned to my room, I could not keep anything down for two days, which kept me in the hospital for a longer period of time. During this time, I was really impressed with the concern and caring attitude of the staff. My nurses and aids on the 5th floor, Angie, Mimi, Claudia, Mae, Shaunta, Suzzi, Frankie, Angela and Consuelo could not do enough for me. I was checked on at least once an hour if not more and they constantly came in to ask if I needed anything. When I called to have help going to the restroom, I don’t think I ever waited more than two minutes for assistance. The housekeeping department was constantly checking the room for cleanliness. I spent Saturday through Tuesday in the hospital and had wonderful care all the way around. I cannot thank everyone enough. The other day my daughter told me that she explained to our five year old grandson, Alex, that Grammy was in the hospital and had surgery. Alex was almost in tears and extremely concerned about my “missing parts” so Debi told him, “Alex, don’t worry, Grammy will be fine. She had her appendix removed, but you don’t need that part. Mommy had it taken out in college and look, she’s fine. She had you and Avery and is just fine.” Alex seemed satisfied and went to bed but later came out and whispered to his mom, “Is Grammy going to have a baby now?” I thought I’d rip open my incisions when they told me that story! If I had to have this happen, two surgeries within 15 months, I’m glad it was at Homestead Hospital. Publisher’s note: Homestead Hospital staff are also to be commended for their improvisational skills when asked for a flower vase

Overcoming the Prejudices of Others - My Column - Jan 20, 2014

Dr. Martin Luther King Day is observed next Monday, the 20th of January. This federal holiday is celebrated, on Dr. King’s birthday. It is combined with other days in different states. For example, it is combined with Civil Rights Day in Arizona and New Hampshire, and with Human Rights Day in Idaho. It is also a day that is combined with Robert E. Lee’s birthday in some states. In Wyoming it is known as Equality Day. Believe it or not, I have a reason as to why I associate with the way Dr. King must have felt in many situations in his life. Yes, the King and I go way back. Martin Luther King, an African American, was a civil rights activist who was assassinated in 1968. He was a leader in the movement to end racial segregation in the United States and an advocate of non-violent protests. He was also the youngest man to be awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. Bottom line, he brought to light the struggle against racism which many wanted to keep in the dark. Now you may be asking, “How can this Caucasian woman possibly relate to Dr. Martin Luther King?” Well I am going to tell you. I grew up in a small town in northeastern Pennsylvania. In this town and for miles surrounding it, there were no Hispanics or African Americans. The highlight of the week as a youngster was going to the main street in town and watching the truck from Philadelphia deliver to the J. J. Newbery store as the man driving was usually of African American heritage and we had never seen this type of person before. Oh sure, there was an African American gentleman in town named Chalky Ray who rode on a skateboard as he lost his legs from the hips down in a train accident when he was a kid. But he was just a town fixture and we really didn’t see him as being African American. The truck driver was the real thing! Skip forward to December of 1973. This young girl was living in South Florida since graduating high school the year before. I was going back to Pa. for the holidays and taking a very dark skinned, Hispanic boy with me - my boyfriend. Talk about being the talk of the town. I felt the prejudice stares. I heard the remarks made. I saw the people whispering and pointing. My own family questioned the relationship and were at a point that they were threatening to disown me if the relationship continued. Fast forward to the summer of 1983. I was now a mother of three with a dark-skinned Hispanic husband who decided to go on summer vacation back in my PA hometown. Mr. Wonderful, my dark-skinned Hispanic husband, son Daniel, then 6 with red hair and olive skin, middle child, three-year-old Jessie with fair skin and black hair and then there was the baby, my little brown girl, Debi who was 6 months old. Oh, she had beautiful brown skin like her daddy’s. Again, I saw the stares. I heard the whispers. And when my husband wasn’t with me, I was often told how sweet it was that I adopted my little Debi. Forward now to today. I am married to Mr. Wonderful for over 38 years and we have three successful children and four grandchildren. Little Debi, my brown skinned girl, thankfully has a great personality to persevere and ignore the stares and comments about her skin color and her “white mama”. In fact, as a teacher, she loves to surprise her students by having them meet her mother and watching the shock on their faces. Someone told me a few weeks ago that I was a “pioneer” of inter-racial marriages. I don’t think so….I just feel that we worked hard at our marriage like everyone else. Yes, I have felt the effects of racism. I’m sure it was nothing like African Americans felt in the earlier days but still, I felt it and yes, it hurt. It stung stronger than any bee could bite. Yes, I cried at times but yet I knew that once people got to know Mr. Wonderful and looked beyond the color of his skin, they would realize what a gem I had found….and they did. Looking back, I really don’t understand how I came out of that small town without being somewhat prejudiced. It was just the way we were brought up - sheltered in a way from the hardships of Dr. King’s world. I always strived to teach my children not to see the color of a person’s skin, their body size or any type of difference in their appearance. I admire and respect Dr. King for the fight he fought for so many people. Just to be treated normally as I wanted to be seen as a normal family. Yes, I can certainly relate - to the King and I.

Coping with Death - my column from May 5, 2014

There is one thing in life that no matter who you are, how rich or poor, if you lived your life in a good or bad way, if you are fat or skinny, active or sedentary, short or tall, we all have it in common. That one thing that will happen to every single one of us no matter what our situation is. We cannot run or hide from it or pay someone off to make it not happen. Death is inevitable! When looking at death, we realize that a large part of death is emotions and change. We are human so we have emotions: we feel, we hurt, we love, we get angry and we can be happy, we can wallow in grief or revel in fun. We make human errors and sometimes we lose and sometimes we succeed. We undergo change and we cause change. It could be a major difference, or a minor difference. The point is it is a difference. What we do can change history or change someone’s life. Life, and the world, would definitely be different without any one of us. When death occurs, we know it is inevitable and we suffer emotions and change. This past weekend, within a thirty hour time span, my Aunt who was also my Godmother went from being very active, exercising on her treadmill and doing housework, to being intubated and finally passing away. We called her Aunt Tootie but, I am her namesake, as her real name was Doris - Doris Krapf Brown. Her husband, my Uncle Jack, passed away last year after several years of battling cancer, but Aunt Tootie’s death was a shock. She was always healthy, exercised and was very outgoing. I never knew her to be really sick. My mother, the only surviving sibling, has continually been ill but not her younger sister, Tootie. As a little girl, I always looked forward to visiting Aunt Tootie. She and my Uncle had two boys; Richard who was a year younger than me and Paul who was younger than him. Their family lived in Salem, New Jersey and it was such a thrill to either go on the ferry across the river to their home or to cross the huge DelawareMemorialBridge when driving. I remember one year being scared to death as we were lost on the ferry for many hours due to severe fog. Aunt Tootie and Uncle Jack also had a really nice cottage style house. It was a small house but intrigued me with its slanted ceilings in the two upstairs bedrooms. Compared to our row home, their home seemed like the Taj Mahal. A big yard and a huge garage in the back complimented the property. I always admired Aunt Tootie’s cuckoo clock like my Grams and to this day, I continue to be a cuckoo clock aficionado. I have three but there is always room for more. As a young girl, I was often surprised with a little gift in the mail for my birthday. I specifically remember getting a jingle jump, which I quickly clicked onto my ankle and started jumping (you had to be there to understand - Google it) and another year was a bracelet with a pink heart in it. Later in life, Aunt Tootie and Uncle Jack would come to spend the winter in Bonita Springs. Before their time there would start, they would come and spend a week or two at our home. I loved this time as Uncle Jack took over where my dad left off when he passed away - Uncle Jack would do those little jobs for me that Mr. Wonderful never had time to do. I would make a list each year and things like hanging a bird feeder or tightening a knob were always taken care of. Those little things that I truly appreciated. Aunt Tootiewould always support me; even though I didn’t see her often, I knew she love me. Now is my time where the consequences of death are inevitable and my emotions have overflowed and change will happen. I feel, I hurt, I love, I get angry. I made human errors by not calling her enough I suppose and for that I have regrets. Aunt Tootie did make a difference in my life. Life and the world will definitely be different without her. I cry.

My Once in a Lifetime Trip - My Column - May 10, 2012

For the past two weeks, I have written my column however, those columns were written in advance - something I never do! I always like to keep my column current so I can air or share my latest gripes, compliments or experiences. My columns were written in advance due to the fact that I was away, collecting on my Christmas gift from my husband. On Christmas morning I was given three gifts. The first one was a bottle of Dramamine. Now keep in mind that my daughter had just had another ultrasound and had been very ill, so I figured they were going to tell me if it was a boy or a girl. My second gift was a box of Lucky Charms. Aha! I knew then that she was having a boy as that was her son, Alex's favorite cereal. I then received my final gift which was a blue plastic boat. Yes, it was a boy. Just then my grandson came over and said, 'Grammy, open up the boat!' I did and I found a bunch of papers folded up. As I was scanning over the words, I read 'transatlantic cruise' and 'thirteen days.” Was I seeing things? Then I saw the word 'Ireland.' Tears were streaming down my face and my daughter translated everything for me. ''Mom, you are going on a transatlantic cruise to Portugal, Ireland, France and England and then flying back to Dublin for a few more days! It's your gift from Papi!' My husband has constantly said he would never go on a cruise, so the next words out of my mouth were, 'Who am I going with?' They all laughed and said with him. You know ladies, men can be jerks at times, but every now and then they pull something off that just shows you that you are truly loved and this was one of those moments. Prior to leaving, my husband told me he upgraded to a balcony room. At that point I informed my family and friends, 'Please know that I will never drink so much that I fall overboard, so please investigate.” Well, over the last three weeks since April 21st, I have been on that 'once in a lifetime' trip and over the next few weeks, I hope you don't mind but I want to share my journey with you. If you think this is like the dinner host showing you pictures of their kids or trips, you can ignore my column for a few weeks, but I hope you will allow me to share with you the tears and laughter I experienced.

The Beautiful Sites in Spain - My Column - July 27, 2012

Day nine of our transatlantic cruise on the Celebrity Eclipse was to bring us to the port of Cobh, (pronounced Cove), Ireland. On the eve of day seven, our captain announced that a bad storm was stirring with 26 foot seas off the coast so arrangements were made to re-direct our stop to La Coruña, Spain. Smart man, I didn’t want to put my life boat skills or my air sickness bag into play. With those seas we would really rock and roll. My husband and I took the attitude that it was another country to see but many were disappointed as that was the only stop in Ireland. My husband had planned to fly to Ireland after the cruise ended in England, so I was happy. As I woke up on day nine, the ship was docking and I could see the lights of the city. The captain had informed us that it was a national holiday, Labour Day, in the port so shopping, etc. would be limited. We disembarked and began walking the streets which seemed deserted. We found a beautiful church, San Jorge, went in and lit a candle at the statue of Jesus with the Sacred Heart for our fathers and for our Sacred Heart church in Homestead. You’ll note on our trip that we visited churches wherever we went. Just saying, I want God to recognize me when I get to those pearly gates. As time passed, the streets slowly came alive and I was able to snag free internet and a few souvenirs - don’t get me wrong - I paid for the souvenirs, remember, I want to go up. Little alleys were filled with shops and it seemed to me that many families came out just to walk the town. We saw booths being set up and later ran into a band of protesters as evidently, this is the day in Europe when the people air their gripes about the government. Gee, we do that every day! We also saw a booth where a woman was boiling octopus, slicing it and serving it with olive oil, a local delicacy. Although I like to taste the local cuisine, I passed on that one. Later in the day, we did taste the local cuisine as we sampled a soup with the biggest white beans I have ever seen. The soup also had chorizo (sausage) and morsilla (a blood sausage) in it and it was delicious. Of course, that was accompanied by wine and the local beer (I said you had to sample the local cuisine - beverages included). The day ended with a street person serenading me with his violin, all the while grinning with no teeth. What more could I ask for? So far, the cruise was so restful and the ports enjoyable. Our day in La Coruña was very nice. Next stop, qui qui, Paris!

The Beauty of Paris - My Column - June 18, 2012

Day 12 of our transatlantic cruise docked in Le Havre, France, which is approximately 110 miles from Paris. This was the only port where we scheduled a group tour through the cruise line as they offered trips into Paris and we decided if we were going to be so close, we needed to do it. Arriving in Le Havre, we were greeted by dark skies and heavy downpours of rain. Even though the rain pelted the windows on the bus; we could see that we were driving by miles and miles of beautiful yellow fields of flowers in the French countryside. We also noticed that there were trees that were strangely bare with the exception of huge balls of greenery. I finally asked our guide about these and I was surprised to hear that the yellow fields were canola flowers (as in canola oil) and the balls were mistletoe. I also learned that mistletoe is a parasite and it kills the trees and that is why only the balls were left on the trees. As we neared Paris, the sun began to shine. In Paris, our guide took us on a bus tour which drove past all the major sites including the Louvre, the Arc de Triomphe, La Defense and the Champs Elysees, just to mention a few. The Eiffel Tower and the Seine River were very prominent from the moment we neared the city. Our bus parked in the Plaza de la Concorde which featured an obelisk and fountain and we had three and a half hours to tour on our own. My husband and I walked from the Plaza to Notre Dame Cathedral, a site I wanted to see. Our walk took us by the Louvre which seemed to occupy more city blocks than I could count. Unfortunately, by the time we arrived at the cathedral, the lines were too long for us to go in but just viewing the outside was spectacular. We took a lot of pictures and I picked up a rock from the ground to take home to a friend who collects them. After the cathedral, we took the subway system, which I regretted we did not take on the way to Notre Dame, to save time. We then shopped and stopped at a sidewalk café for a meal which included my husband ordering “la langue” or tongue that he enjoyed. I did take a taste as I knew that when in France, do as the French do! It had a good taste and was chewy. I ordered a pork dish that was very good and of course, we tried the French beer. Riding back to the ship on the bus, I was exhausted. I enjoyed the day in Paris and I was glad I went but frankly, I really have no desire to go back. I found the city extremely crowded and the locals very impatient with the tourists. I will tell you that I really enjoyed the architecture and history of the city. Maybe if I had several days to spend in Paris, I would have enjoyed it more. As we sailed away from Le Havre, the skies cleared and the sunset was beautiful but I felt overwhelmed with sadness. It was then that I realized that there would be just one more day on the Celebrity Eclipse before our cruise ended in Southampton, England. I didn’t want it to end, again, I was so relaxed and still pinching myself to make sure that this wonderful trip was not a dream. Oh the places I’ve seen. Next stop, England and a day of travel by ship, train, plane and automobile.

Oh the Places I Have Been - My Column - June 1, 2012

The first port of call on our transatlantic cruise was Ponta Delgada in the Azores in Portugal. The streets and pavements of the island were cobblestone, which were very tiring on our feet and we dodged traffic as most of the streets were only wide enough for one very small car and the sidewalks were wide enough for one person to walk. There were only a few street lights and they were attached to buildings on the side of the narrow roads. This island was interesting. At the end of the island was Music Park and Christ our Lord Church. We went in to find the most beautiful church with an ornate gold ceiling and altar area in the front and a beautiful chapel behind gates in the rear. We sat quietly, thanked God for the safe trip and the opportunity. Workers were putting light bulbs, like Christmas lights, all over the exterior of the churches in town, which we later found out were in preparation for a religious festival that would start on May 11th and last a week. Unfortunately, there was an American man from another ship in port, in the church speaking loudly. A parishioner tried to quiet him and the man became belligerent and abusive saying he was Atheist and did not have to behave with all the Christian idols, etc. and continued to tell the parishioner to go to hell! I ducked as I waited for the lightning bolt! Hello….why are you even in a church if you don’t believe? Evidently, no matter where you go, there are rude people! Do nutty people follow me? We continued to walk the cobblestone streets and found a marketplace of sorts where meat, vegetables, live chickens and rabbits, and fresh fish were being sold to locals. My husband and I could not believe the size of the heads of cabbage and the carrots! They we abnormally huge but looking at the green fertile mountain area on the island, it was no wonder. My husband said the smell of the market brought back memories of his days in Colombia and the market he visited as a child with his mother. After the market, we found Saint Thomas's church which was tiny but had very old paintings on wooden boards on the wall that depicted scenes of Thomas. advertisement We then walked further to the town plaza where we shopped and then sat and had beer and coffee and yes, I had the coffee! At noon, the bells in Saint Sebastian church in the square began to peel. It was beautiful to hear and see the actual bells ringing. A drum corp consisting of school children then came by with two large puppets in the form of a man and woman. They were entertaining to say the least. A thirty minute horse and carriage tour followed wherein we were provided with liqueurs that are made on the island. We tasted pineapple, blackberry and passion fruit. While on the island we took advantage of a café with free internet and sent a few e-mails. The weather on the island was in the 50’s and 60’s but sunny. As we were leaving port, rain moved in so we opened our balcony door and watched as we traveled the length of the island. Beautiful rainbows soon bounced off the water and we both were very thankful for another wonderful day.

Sometimes life throws you curve balls - March 26, 2012 Article - South Dade News Leader

I don’t know about you, but my life is like a baseball game and I’m constantly thrown curve balls. Everything will be going smoothly and then all of a sudden, boom! I’m thrown a curve ball. I swing and miss as another thing happens that I just was not ready to experience. I’ve learned over the years that there are physical, financial and emotional strikes. Lately, life has left me wondering when I will ever hit a home run. It all started last month with the physical strike of emergency gall bladder surgery. Not fun and certainly unplanned in all aspects. I missed work and was frustrated by the time it took me to recuperate. Strike one. This month I lost a crown on a tooth. Not only did I lose the crown, I broke the tooth as well. Because this tooth is in the front, I have two choices; have an implant or look like Minnie Pearl for the rest of my life. I’m not vain, but the beauty fairy wasn’t extremely kind to me so yesterday I started the process of having an implant. Strike two. Here I am now standing at home plate, up at bat, waiting to take a swing. My two physical strikes have been financial strikes at the same time. Insurance covered most of the surgery bill, but I have several thousands to pay on my own. I don’t have dental insurance so I have several thousands to pay there also. I think I’m going to cry foul ball. All things considering, I am counting my blessings right now. I have not recently been hit with what I feel is the most costly strike of all; the emotional strike. Things like death, serious illness or divorce are more costly than any bill I may have to pay or any scar that needs to heal. Yes, I’m thankful I have not had any emotional strikes lately. Life is definitely a baseball game. Oh, I’ll survive the curve balls being thrown at me. I’ll survive the foul balls I hit. Last week, I told my husband that I worry that he is going to decide that it is no longer “cheaper to keep her!” He thought about it for a few seconds then said I’m a keeper so, no matter how many strikes or foul balls I hit, I’m still on the winning team. Play ball.