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Getting close now: Day Four in our countdown to the national holiday of Thanksgiving. Where would we be without taste?  Right now, we have begun the preparation on desserts. Umm: the gentle crunch of pecans, and the soft glide of pumpkin. Cranberry relish needs a tad more sugar and perhaps some grated orange rind might add sparkle. Celery has been cleaned and the yogurt dill dip is ready. Turkey is still in brine and the olives (black and green) are already in refrigerated dishes.  We try and do as much as we can the day before. I can already taste my favorite part of the turkey- the golden crunchy  skin. So good. So bad for you.  We’ll roast brussel sprouts, cauliflower and carrots, lightly coating them in olive oil, spices, salt and sprinkle toasted almonds almost on at the end. I might add some Parmesan cheese too.  Yum, I can taste it already. Oh ham—mustn’t forget ham.  Mom’s favorite trick was to cook it with peanut butter. Sounds ghastly but is really quite wonderful. Of course, there will be the sparkling fizz of apple cider for the children and the cool oakey, apricot flavor of a great Chardonnay, Let us not forget the other tastes:  kisses! There’s the sticky sweat of my youngest grandson when he runs in from playing and the cucumber cheek of my teen granddaughter. Husband Bill claims he just tastes like “old man”. I think he tastes like love. So does my sweet sister, my children. And how I miss kissing Mom and tasting the Oil of Olay on her wrinkled cheek. Celebrate taste today. It’s why we’re not out grazing on grass or gnawing on sticks.

It is Day Three in our countdown toward Thanksgiving. I sit at my desk, just back from the gym and before jumping in the shower. Talk about smell! My gym buddies and I are pretty “earthy” right now, a combination of sweat and left over body lotion. The best part about exercise, I think, is the shower. My shampoo reminds me of tropical flowers and the soap makes me think of spring. The pungent odor of brewing coffee fills the air and outside, a breeze from the ocean carries a whiff of salt. There’s still the remnant of last night’s dinner in the air—apple pie coupled with vegetable soup. Tomorrow, we’ll start filling the house with all the smells that signal the start of Thanksgiving cooking. But the best gift of smell comes in our memories.  My grandparents home in York, PA had a distinctive scent that I can conjure up right now. I experienced it once before in an historic hotel in St. Louis. Ah, the memory. In fact, scientists claim that smell is on of the last memories we lose. Think of cuddling your baby, fresh out of the bath. How about sunscreen and coconut on a hot summer’s day?  I remember the way Mom’s hair always smelled when I hugged her. Nana McDargh always carried the distinctive scent of Shalimar perfume. Sitting here, there are so many smells I can draw forth. What a gift. How empty life would be without the aroma of memories—even those that carry sorrow and pain. For now, I have had enough of ME. Off to the shower, wishing you a wonderful, grace-filled odoriferous day.

It’s Day Two in our countdown to Thanksgiving, a holiday that would never had happened in Lincoln had not LISTENED to Sarah Josepha Hale and her idea that the nation needed a day of gratitude. The Irish have a saying, “The Good Lord gave us two ears and a mouth which means we are suppose to listen twice as much as we speak.”  Sadly, we don’t. Listening is far different from hearing. Listening implies putting aside preconceived ideas and being open to the meaning behind the words. It implies asking reflective questions. In my book, "Talk Ain’t Cheap, It’s Priceless" listening plays a crucial role in effective leadership, community building, and family tending. At the same time, in the past, I too often took for granted the simple sense of hearing itself. Imagine living in a world where you can see someone’s mouth move but can’t make sense of what is coming out. Or perhaps you “think” you heard correctly, but some of the words weren’t correct. That’s what was happening to me until my sweet husband quietly put an ad for hearing aids on my desk and suggested I might look into it. OK. I swatted him. I cried. This is a malady that has struck every male in my family for four generations. Not me.  Alas, perhaps because I shared the womb with my twin brother who has significant hearing loss, I apparently have also gotten that genetic marker. I do wear hearing aids. Not all the time, but enough to appreciate the nuances of a stage production, to answer questions from my audience, and to joining into conversations at gatherings of many people. You, dear reader, are probably one of those blessed souls who has perfect hearing. Hearing is what occurs in moments like this: I was sound asleep today when the alarm went off, a classical station that sends up everything from soothing concertos to percussive passage from an obscure composer. I never know what will start my day.  Our water fountain is timed to start flowing at 4am. While that might be calming, the hard rock music at the gym gets my body pumped for a stair climbing or lifting weights. In contrast, the ride home from the gym is blissfully silent. I am grateful for my ears. I am grateful for help that lets me hear more. I am grateful for the music I sing and the songs I dance too. And I am eternally grateful when someone says, “Thanks for listening to me today.” That ranks higher than water flow or the orchestra. Where today will you be grateful for hearing AND for listening.

Today begins the countdown to Thanksgiving, a holiday that became official due to the efforts of Sarah Josepha Hale, editor of Godey's Lady's Book and author of the famous "Mary Had a Little Lamb" nursery rhyme. She spent some 40 years advocating for a national, annual Thanksgiving holiday but it was President Lincoln who ultimately paid attention. it was Lincoln who finally proclaimed it a national holiday to infuse hope and to bring together a nation torn apart by the Civil War. On October 3, 1863, Lincoln issued a Thanksgiving Proclamation that declared the last Thursday in November (based on Washington's date) to be a day of "thanksgiving and praise." Ironically, considering the recent presidential election and the polarization of political parties, a day of thanksgiving and unity is indeed appropriate.  Heck. I am grateful the elections are over! But gratitude, like a muscle, needs to be exercised daily. So I decided to start small, to celebrate each of the five days of Thanksgiving by focusing on one of the five senses per day. Perhaps you’ll join me and begin to list what make you grateful about each sense. Day one: Vision! I glance at the nightstand clock: 6:00am.  Slowly, so slowly, the sky begins to lighten. Peach clouds swirl against the darker rain clouds over Catalina Island. I pick up my morning meditation and read the words. Slowly. Slowly. My hand reaches for the coffee cup as I look at my husband of 32.5 years and smile. His eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles back. My early morning run offers more vistas of ocean and sky. A string of fat pelicans glide silently overhead. The ocean barely moves today, more placid than the day before. I wave to a familiar jogger and stop to scratch the head of an old dog. The boardwalk is wet and I watch carefully for signs of slippery moss. Today, the gate to the headland trail is closed and a sign says I am too early for its opening. Sigh. Running back up the hill, I keep our two palm trees in site. Twenty years ago, when we first moved in, the tress were already a landmark at 50 feet. Today, they tower well over 100 feet and can be seen from roads in all four directions.  Makes me smile that our palm trees serve as a beacon for many. And so the day begins. From the faces of people I love to the books that I read, from the bounty of nature to the simple grasping of a handle,  from the signage on a gate to the colors on the ground, I am so grateful for my eyes. Look around you. What would you miss?  It is true: “the EYES have it!"

Resiliency requires adaptability, the willingness to seek multiple solutions to challenges and opportunities. Rather than limp along in the same fashion with processes created for far different times, I discovered five ideas from Mark McKinnon, GOP strategist and cofounder of NoLables, a movement to end partisan gridlock. Have all members of Congress work five days a week when in session, synchronizing House and Senate schedules with three weeks in D.C. and one week at home. Pass a “No Budget, No Pay” ruling that would dock members every day they fail to pass a budget on time. Require a yeah or nay vote on presidential appointments within 90 days or the candidate is confirmed by default. Introduce monthly bipartisan gatherings, bipartisan seating and a bipartisan leadership committee. Allow no pledges but the Oath of Office. It is time Congress behaves like real leaders who hold themselves accountable for all the stakeholders. Let me know what you think!

Izaiah - now age 3, sits in a wheel chair connected to a respirator. His spiked hair bobs back and forth as I cradle his adorable five month–old sister, Caliah. My eyes fill with tears as I hear his parents talk about the events that brought them to one of their most important resources, Passion 4 Kids.org.  Two years ago, a drunk and stoned teenage driver plowed into the little guy’s stroller as he was being wheeled to a park.  What also fills my heart is the mission of Charles and Linda Van Kessler, founders of Passion 4 Kids. Because of Charles' background having been raised in a state run orphanage in Amsterdam, Holland during WWII, enduring abuse of every kind and surviving on flower bulbs, he started Passion 4 K.I.D.S. in 1986. When he met his bride in 2001 in San Diego, together with his wife Linda, they developed the charity into a more active organization. With Linda being a mentor for the San Diego County Foster Youth Program, Charles' and Linda's love for children makes it a perfect fit to expand their meaningful humanitarian mission. Passion 4 K.I.D.S. (Kids In Desperate Situations) is a 501 (c) (3) non-profit organization dealing with homeless, neglected, abandoned, abused and underprivileged children of any race, color and creed as well as children in emergency situations. We all need help to be resilient. Charles and Linda offer that help.

A colleague of mine shared a story about his mother that reinforced my belief one can never start too early to develop critical resiliency traits. Read and learn from Joan Domitrz: Adaptability is the first resiliency trait.  Imagine growing up in the 1950s in a close-knit family that struggled financially. Joan Domitrz didn’t have the luxury of a country club with golf and tennis as sports. In fact, in 1957, high schools had no sports for women.  Joan joined one of the only judo clubs for women in the country.  Not only did she quickly pick it up but she also led judo demonstrations that included doing a live TV segment in Chicago. The second trait is Agility. I define this as speed and flexibility coupled with wisdom.   At age 28 and with four children, Joan quickly realized she wanted a new challenge: competitive swimming.  Speed was her mantra and she soon placed in the top six at the National Masters Championships. Alignment is the next resiliency trait.  This trait implies that one is connected with a mission bigger than one’s self. Not content with personal achievements, Joan went on to coach others at her local YMCA, ultimately helping a team reach fourth place in the YMCA National Championships. Under her tutelage, several of her swimmers also received athletic scholarships to universities around the country. According to one of her swimmers, Tracy Jones, "Coach D  taught me how to make clear goals and obtain them, and hard work and dedication pay off. She never coddled me and I appreciated this about her. My parents were going though a divorce, my Dad and I had moved to Janesville from Illinois and things were hard. Swimming was my escape. Coach D made sure that was my sanctuary. She never treated me any differently and did not try to "counsel" me. She addressed my behavior once during that time and that was to tell me to knock it off!  She is a strong woman who was a great role model for me and for any young woman." Adaptability combined with alignment and agility when Joan was asked to train several swimmers from the School for the Blind in Janesville, WI. Joan took a creative approach and came up with a unique system for helping the blind swimmers excel. A few of those swimmers went on to win multiple Gold Medals at the Para-Olympics (including setting world records). Soon after, the world's most renowned swim coach, Doc Councilman (who coached Mark Spitz), called Joan to ask how she was able to train blind swimmers to have such incredible success!! A resilient leader never stops looking for ways to reframe the negative and find what is possible.  When the local high school tried to drop the boy's swimming program, Joan saved the program by helping to raise money and then volunteered to be the Head Coach. Considering she was 66 at the time, and had a stellar history that included serving as head coach for the University of Wisconsin-Whitewater and had started a swim club. Joan could have easily retired.  Not when there is more to be done.  This year, Joan starts her fourth season with the high school team. The final resiliency trait is laugh ability.  One does not rate continuous praise from students and swimmers alike unless there’s a measure of humor and joy in each encounter. Joan is known for loving to dance. In her final year as head coach at the university, all the teams at the conference championships had her lead the crowd in dancing to Y.M.C.A. by the Village People. I’d say that has embraced life, challenges and opportunities swimmingly!

In some ways, that’s sounds great; you could forget the bad dates, the mistakes you kept making, the people you’d REALLY like to banish, and those horrid pictures from when you were a teen. However, Alzheimer’s does not just take away what you’d like to forget but instead tears you from loved ones, from hard-earned knowledge, and eventually, can even divide you from the simple act of swallowing or walking. Today, I joined a couple hundred walkers for the Orange County Alzheimer’s Association, raising some $75,000 to help support caregivers and educate the many. Even the dogs turned out in force! Here’s what we all MUST know: Alzheimer’s is the 6th leading cause of death in the U.S.Alzheimer’s is the only cause of death among the top ten killers without a way to prevent, cure, or even slow its ugly progression.For those of us providing care for loved ones  (14.6 million families in 2010 with Alzheimer’s or other dementia,) we put in 17 billion hours of unpaid care-giving.This unpaid care has an economic value totally $ 202.6 billion in 2010Two-thirds of those with this horrid disease are women.An American develops Alzheimer’s every 69 seconds.Alzheimer’s has profound effects for government budgets: the cost of caring for those with Alzheimer’s will total $183 billion in 2011. This is an $11 billion increase over 2010.  NOTE: this does not roll in the free labor by family caregivers!!What is to be done: Become informed about the diseaseAdvocate for researchMake sure this cost is part of the healthcare debateSupport your local Alzheimer’s associationVolunteerNext blog: how memories and creativity go a long way in helping!

Make that an aluminum canoe: 18-feet long and weighing 83 pounds with no one and nothing in it. That’s precisely what my husband and I had for our last foray into Lac La Croix at the boundary waters between the US and Canada. Our friends decided to use their tandem ocean kayak that had room for not much more than water bottles.  Guess which watercraft became the you-haul-um barge for tents, backpacks, waterproof food barrel, and sleeping bags.  We are now floating a few hundred pounds in our canoe! My husband insisted on taking the stern, giving him the power of the rudder. Yours truly had the front.  Now, in our normal lighter canoes, I would have had some ability to influence our direction.  Forget it when you’re sitting in this unwieldy and heavy canoe. All I could do was paddle. The more I paddled, hour after hour, the more disillusioned and upset I became. It was mindless, boring, and absolutely galley slave work. At least when Bill fished from the back, he got diversion. Not me: Paddle. Paddle. Paddle. He’d say, “What do you think about going to the left by the rock ledge?” I wanted to revolt. It didn’t matter what I “thought”. He had all the control and my job was paddle, paddle, paddle. Thus this post was born. The canoe reminded me of a large, inflexible organization. I represented the lowest level employee. My brain was not used. My opinions didn’t matter. I had no opportunity to move “back” and get training in another position. Nope. Just paddle, paddle, paddle. I understand now why I hear some employees say, “It’s just a job. I put in my time and then I am out of there.”  Or “No one asks my opinion. It doesn’t matter what I think”  Or, “There’s no job advancement.” I found myself inventing a diversion: map reading. I became the expert at reading the topography of the islands, finding the campsites, navigating us back to our tents.  Phew. It saved the trip and probably saved a marriage. Bill also handed the stern over to me for the last day so I could “learn” the helm. Smart man at last! Which brings up a final lesson: one can’t learn leadership overnight. It takes practice.  I had to discover just how to use the paddle as a rudder when winds swept us sideways. I had to test how much tension to put into different turns. I was not always successful. Would love to hear your thoughts! Any insights pop up? Let me know. Have you thrown someone into a leadership capacity without time to train, to try, to fail, and try again?

Yesterday, my sister Susan Mullins and I went to the local cable TV station for an interview about Hospice Care of the West. When faced with our Mom’s downward decline, hospice was a lifesaver. There is so much misunderstanding about hospice. Few know that you can literally interview a number of hospice organization to find one that resonates with you. Second, hospice is all about comfort and peace of mind for the family. It is not a signal that death is immediate.  For us, Hospice Care of the West had a philosophy that mirrored ours: namely, life is to be celebrated all the way through. This hospice created a DVD for us of an interview with Mom about her life. They presented it to us as a gift. What a treasure.

Little did 24 year-old Aimee Copeland know that a playful day in nature with friends would turn tragic when a homemade zip line failed and she fell.  That set the stage for the necrotizing fasciitis that led to amputations and the failure of her five major organs. I have been following her story and reading the blog her dad, Andy, posts on the website they created for this gorgeous young woman. Until the accident, Aimee was in grad school, studying humanistic psychology with a focus on eco-psychology at the University of West Georgia. Imagine losing a leg, a foot and both hands!  The pain from this flesh-eating bacteria fires pain through the body.  And yet, when you read about Aimee, she is the soul of determination and grit. Andy calls the 59 days in the hospital, “Blessed”, and his writing underscores a strong trust in the power of a loving God and a trust in the goodness of so many people who pour out support for the family. This photo is Aimee’s Mom, putting on makeup for leaving the hospital and going into rehab. Read Andy’s blog and you’ll see how both father and daughter use laughter and a wry sense of humor to describe the pain of rehab. Aimee’s next phase of life will test her resilient spirit and that of everyone around her. You’ll see the outpouring of financial, medical, material and spiritual help when you visit her web site. Here’s the deal. Aimee is news now. There will also come a time when fatigue sets in. Caregivers become weary, supporters feel stretched thin, and Aimee will hit plateaus. Mark your calendars. Go visit her website every other month so you stay fresh, interested, and can voice support. If so inclined, there are ways to contribute: everything blood donations to money. Joining hands helps us all be resilient!

From his place in the hellhole concentration camp called Auschwitz, Dr. Viktor Frankl observed, “Man can survive any ‘what’ if he has a meaning.”Worthy words worth exploring as we all face the daily onslaught of a world at war on too many fronts, economic downturns, depressed job markets, and political rhetoric that is empty on action and long on blame. My dear friend and colleague, Marilyn Semonick, wrote these words that I think are worth passing along—from the award-winning Scorsese film, HUGO. Young Hugo Cabret tells his friend, Isabel:  "Everything has a purpose, even machines. Clocks tell the time; trains take you places. They do what they’re meant to do. Maybe that’s why broken machines make me so sad. Maybe it’s the same with people. If you lose your purpose, it’s like you’re broken."Words worth pondering from a very young lad. When Isabel questions her purpose, Hugo responds: "When my dad died, I looked out this window and imagined the whole world as one big machine. Machines never come with extra parts. They always come with the exact amount they need. So, I figured if the entire world was one big machine, I couldn’t be an extra part. I had to be here for some reason. And, that means you have to be here for some reason too.” Perhaps it is time, during this summer season, to ask yourself what is your reason for existence!