I LOVE a Night at the Casino

Last year on New Year's Eve I discovered the secret to a perfect way to celebrate.  Go to a casino near you.  My husband and I dropped our son off at a party, and knowing we had to pick him up later, we decided to go out for dinner.  I turned to him and said, "Let's go to a casino and try to win our supper." 



Who knew.  We walked into the greatest party ever.  Folks were in their jammies wearing crowns on their heads.  Other were in their finest.  Live music was playing on three different stages.  The line to the buffet ran two lengths of the hallway.  Darn.  "All the crab legs you can eat."  I'm in. 



Free drinks were being passed along to those of us at the slot machines and gambling tables.  I was surrounded by happy people.  No whining allowed. My secret love is the slot machine.  Love the sounds, the colors, the whirl of the images, the anticipation.  I admit that I'm addicted, but I know my limit.  I have no choice.  I'm the one who brings in a certain amount and when it's gone, it's over.  The image of the poor schmuck at the ATM taking money out haunts me.  "Gee, this is the only time money spits out of a machine for me."

We won that night.  Enough to eat all the crab legs I could.  Too bad they ran out by the time I made it to the front of the line.  The hostess looked at my face, and felt so bad, she let us eat for free.  That meant we had more money to play with.  So we skipped dessert and went back.  Won again, and left before I left a loser. 



I'm looking forward to my new annual tradition of gambling in the New Year.  I'm actually giddy, which could be a bad thing.  Any Christmas money that came my way, went into my, "New Year's Eve," fund.  Trust me.  It's not enough to mourn the loss of my son's college fund.  Gas to drive him to college...maybe.
 

There's a lot to be grateful for this year.  Grateful to have been present for those special times.  Lot of times I wished I was behind bars, and not be around to witness the not so good times as well.  My oldest daughter moved into a new apartment yesterday afternoon.  My son and I spent a supremely cold day moving furniture.  She was living with my mom and keeping her company while mom recovered from bypass surgery.  Mom was happy to see my daughter leave, which really means she's going to be fine now.  She's strong again.  She's ready to start bowling.  Feeling lonely takes more strength to get over.  In time.  We skipped strapping the mattress to my truck.  I looked at my daughter, and told her to stop at the mattress shop.  My treat.  They deliver same day.  I'm grateful to help her move on.  I'm grateful to have been there. 



Yesterday, my husband handed in his resignation at work.  A new opportunity has come along, and he's taking it because, "This could be my last hurrah."  The new company gave him a generous allowance for a new car.  He doesn't have to drive his dad's old car anymore.  The one with a dent from last Thanksgiving when I was so excited to go shopping with my son late at night that I backed up right into the side door of his car.  AND my husband witnessed the whole thing.  Oye.  What a night.  To help him celebrate his new job, my son wants us to buy his dad a new leather briefcase.  Perfect gift for his birthday which is around the corner.



On the way home from moving his sister, my son announced that he needs a new prescription for contacts.  "I can't see s--- anymore."  Thank you. 

Just as I started to worry about all the money I was spending, I stopped to realize how lucky we are.  Grateful to spend money towards my daughter's new life.  Grateful to spend money towards my husband's new move.  Grateful that my son is growing.  And...don't think I'm crazy....but thanks to Blago, I'm grateful that this month I can say, "I'm debt free." 


I was always determined to be in a better financial place by the time he's out of prison.  I didn't want to look back and think he saved more by cleaning toilets than I saved.  I met my primary goal this month.  No more credit bills or car payments.  Granted, the bathroom has to be repaired and the house needs repairs that I avoided in order to meet my goal, but I'm entering that phase next.  
 

Happy New Year.  And if you get depressed or feel alone tonight, imagine what it must feel like to be sitting in a cell looking at the pictures of your family on a wall.  That image HAS to motivate you to join me at the casino!!

A Final Kiss

My father-in-law passed away late last night.  He was in a nursing home, as he put it, "just waiting to die."  St. Peter didn't hesitate to open the gates for him. A finer man you won't know.  He was love.   

I stopped by to visit him a few days ago.  We watched another Cubs loss together.  As I was leaving, he took my hand and kissed it.  "You were a wonderful daughter-in-law.  Thank you."  Thank YOU, Dad.  

My husband regrets that his dad never saw a Cubs championship.  I told him that grown men and women, grandchildren, widows will ALL be in mourning for their dad the day the Cubs win.

I'm grateful for that final loving touch.  Grateful that I was with my husband when he received the news. I can't imagine learning your loved one is gone over the phone, and then returning to a room filled with strangers. 

2 Summers Down. 12 Summers to Go.

This is the weekend I dread.  The weekend that reminds me that it's over.  If there's anything I've learned from jotting down my thoughts in this blog, it's that I have to force myself to do things that I might never do...just because I can.  It's easy to stay home.  I'm grateful that I don't have to. 

The highlight of my summer was watching a meatball sandwich eating contest at the Italian street festival in Chicago with my daughter.  We screamed out loud.  It was hot and crowded.  Best time.  I would normally have stayed home to avoid the heat and crowds.  After the gelato, unique taste treats from local Italian restaurants, and music, my daughter turned to me and said, "Mom, this was such a great idea.  I loved it."  

I started the summer with a trip to Vegas with friends.  No one loves a slot machine more than I do.  Baseball tournaments with my son took me to Florida, Michigan, and North Carolina.  It's nice knowing I can be there to support him.

My yard looks great.  I worked hard to turn it into my little oasis.  Mom's health is improving.  

2 summers down.  My only regret is that I didn't spend time at the beach or my local pool, but I'm grateful for all the beautiful pleasures I took time to enjoy. Blago has 12 more to go.  Come to think of it, walking the beach is still possible this month.  At least for me.

Room With A View

My kitchen window faces the yard.  The kitchen needs to be updated.  I like the '70's look, but my son calls it something else.  It doesn't really matter to me, because my view of the yard with blooming flowers is very special.  I can't imagine not having a beautiful view and a table next to the window.  This is where I have my morning coffee.  I pay the bills.  I talk to my son after school here.  I'm able to look past the old cabinets and outdated floor. My kitchen table is made from old barn wood.  I've had it since the children were born.  I forget the role this table has played in our lives. 



Over the summer, I've weeded and planted new shrubs and flowers.  It took a lot of work.  I did it because of this window.  It's a view I've taken for granted.  I realized that Blago takes a look out at a yard once in a while, but it's a little different than my yard!  He's lucky if he has a window in his cell. 



The birds have discovered my yard.  I turned on the sprinkler, and they're flying in for a bath and respite from the intense heat.  Simple joy. I'll add new fall colors as gratitude for my room with a view.

Color My World

It's been a busy summer for me.  I've been taking care of mom since her heart surgery.  Rough road, but it's getting easier.  Grateful to be there for her.  I found that my yard had a calming effect.  Pulling weeds and clearing dead wood was soothing. 



I recently read the story of a man who was released from years spent in prison on a wrongful conviction.  When asked what he missed the most while he was behind bars, he said, "Colors."  His room was tan and everything around him was white and tan.  I had to laugh.  I had just painted the bedrooms white.  The color was peaceful to me, but I understood what he missed. 


My own closet has a standard black and white wardrobe.  Suddenly, I missed colors.



Last week, I entered a local nursery.  At that moment I took great joy in appreciating what this man had missed.  I filled the car with pinks, blues, orange.  Every day I take time to water the colorful additions to my garden and I think of what this man missed.  My good friend told me to buy flowering shrubs.  "You'll love the colors and you'll appreciate summer even more."  She's right.



I'm wearing hot pink shoes.  Beige flats?  No. Pink makes me happy. I brought out my collection of jade dishes.  LOVE that color.  I've always loved that color.    Color my world with gratitude. 

Keeping Mom Company After Heart Surgery

One minute I'm pulling weeds in the yard.  Next minute I'm on my way to help mom decide on angioplasty or heart by-pass surgery.  A conversation that sounds like, "Shall I have a salad or sandwich for lunch?"  Everyone was calm.



Mom was complaining of shortness of breath last week.  Her stress test wasn't good.  The angiogram showed two blockages.  One blockage would be easy to stent.  The other blockage was difficult.  The doctors stopped the angiogram and gave us the options.  With surgery, mom would be on a long road to recovery.  With angioplasty/stents, her road to recovery would be easier, but she'd always be looking over her shoulder, wondering if the stents are causing a recurrence in the blockage.  


The decision to do the by-pass wasn't easy.  She said, "I'd like to see my grandchildren get married."



I'm watching her as she rests in the hospital.  Her surgery was a success.  Her strength comes back each day.  I'll be with her on this road and for that I'm grateful.  

Taste of Freedom

Last month I was on the road and listened to an intriguing "60 Minutes" interview on the radio. The story focused on a young man who was born and raised in a prison camp in North Korea.  Can you imagine what that was like?  I can't.  Nothing to eat except watered down soup.  He was always hungry, but he didn't know any other life.



The man was in his 20's when a new prisoner came in and talked about the food outside of camp.  He told tales of spices that existed outside the chained fences.  The young man was so determined to taste the foods, that he and the new prisoner hatched a plan to escape.  Yet, while climbing the fence, the new prisoner was electrocuted.  The young man escaped. 



When asked by the reporter what the best thing about freedom is, the young man replied, "So many wonderful things to eat."  Since I started this practice in gratitude for my freedom, I'm thrilled when I'm out to eat, or at the grocery store.  I knew I wasn't crazy.  I walk down the aisles grateful for the selection from the bakery to produce.  Never gave it much thought before.  I insist that everyone order something different when I'm out at a restaurant so I can test all the dishes.  



I  took my son and daughter to Taste of Chicago last weekend.  Yes, it was crowded.  But it was fun.  People were out enjoying what some of Chicago's restaurants have to offer.  Loved the spinach pizza.  The spicy empanadas were perfect. The weather was beautiful.  I was grateful for The Taste of Freedom.