This morning an article titled 'The Wearables'  hit my inbox.  Thinking it might include attire with appropriate coverage for mature females, without ruffles and

bows, I eagerly clicked open.

Imagine my surprise.  The article was about wearable watches.  These magic watches would tell me:  If I slept well.  If I am breathing OK.  If my heart is ticking along in the right rythm.  If I walked enough today. If my anxiety level is high.

I thought about this great opportunity.  Do I really need this clever watch? My thinking, for my adult life, has been - If I'm still tired when I wake up, I did not sleep well.  So, tomorrow drink hot milk before bed.  Does my heart seem to be beating too fast? OK, Joan - Sit down, see if it passes. Did I walk enough today?  It felt like I did.  Is my anxiety level high? No, probably because I don't wear a watch that creates anxiety.  What if the battery dies and I can't tell how I feel?

No doubt some medical wearables and installations are amazing.  They protect and save lives.  They help us hear, see, walk, breath, talk  ... they are miracles of modern medicine.

Devices that tell me how I feel, or what I've done right or wrong?  I get enough of that.  My brain, body, and friends give me fast feedback.  They are rarely wrong.

And so, forgive me Apple and friends, if I did not hit the 'add to basket' button and add to the economy.  Hopefully my decision will not cause an anxiety attack.  Nah.

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Our family is fortunate to have a home in the North Carolina mountains.  The view is breathtaking. The atmosphere peaceful. The neighbors warm and welcoming.  For fifty years we’ve treasured our time there.

Recently two of our mountain neighbors, friends for decades, decided it was time to sell their homes.  Selfishly we responded … Oh no.   Say it isn’t so.

We thought of the void our neighbors will leave.  The more we thought, the more we realized - It’s not the house, not the view, not the peacefulness, that makes our mountain home so magical.

What keeps us returning with such eager anticipation is the people.  The memories. The friends who’ve shared our mountain home.  The grandchildren growing up there.  The traditions. The surprises. 

We’ll welcome new neighbors.  We’ll never forget the old.  They’re woven into the pages of our memory albums. That’s how  we create ‘do you remember’ stories. Stories to be shared over and over. Stories for future generations.

Much as we love ours - we know it's not just mountain homes where friends and memories are formed.  It can be a home any place - where the welcome mat really means welcome.  

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…

Today is Father’s Day.  New Dads, Older Dads, Dads in our Memories.  Dads who look forward. Dads who look back.  Dads still trying to figure it all out.  So many different Dads.

If you are among the lucky ones, you smile when you say ‘MY Dad.’   You remember all the good stuff.  Even the ‘punishments’ are smile-worthy when you recall the reasons they were doled out.

Our Dad was fun.  He did not accept excuses.  His ‘stop right now’ signal to me, who was prone to arguing, was ‘Enough. You’d argue with Paddy’s pig. Just do it. Now.’ 

We were lucky to have a Dad who taught by example. How to work.  How to sing. How to dance.  How to defend yourself. How to be a friend.  How to appreciate.  And – how to love and admire our mother, just as he did. 

Maybe it’s the luck of the draw or the lucky gene pool.   Maybe it’s being trained by his wife –  our mother.  Whatever the reason - you did a great job, Dad.  I’m now a great grandmother. I still remember all the songs, the stories, the lessons.  I share them with my growing family. So, thanks Dad. You live on.

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When was the last time you entered a room, and someone  gave you a big smile, and clapped with obvious joy?

For me it was just yesterday.  It was playtime with my 10-month old great grandbabies.  Now,  I’m not the only one who receives this standing ovation.  They are happy children.  I smile and clap in response. I dance into the room.  Their welcome makes my day brighter. Let the fun begin.

What happens to these spontaneous so happy to see you - I don’t mind you seeing my joy -  little people?  I’m afraid we, the adults of the world, is what happens.

At some stage we stop clapping when we see someone or something we love.  We stop jumping with joy.  We don’t want to look silly.  Children learn from example.

Perhaps it’s time to learn from our youngsters. While they are still young.  While silly is fun. While we are still the example. While there's still time to make a difference.

There are today’s and tomorrow’s we just won't feel like it. On the days when we do …clap loudly, laugh heartily, sing a happy tune. 

Gosh, that felt good.

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Today is Memorial Day 2025.  At 3 PM today I will pause for one minute to remember those who died in service to their country.  I will also give special thanks to those who defended our country and passed away after their service was completed.  Those with memories they could never erase.

I grew up in England during WWII.  Too young to understand the depth of the word sacrifice. Old enough to recognize grief.  Wise enough to reject the horror of war.

Please do not wish me a Happy Memorial Day.  This is a day of reflection, remembrance, gratitude, and honor.  One day to remember. One minute of silence.  Such a small tribute for the sacrifices of those we honor.

On Memorial Day (then called Decoration Day), family grace before our midday meal included reading In Flanders Fields.

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row
That mark our place and in the sky
The larks still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below

We are the dead, short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields, in Flanders fields

Take up our quarrel with the foe
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch be yours to hold it high
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields

LEST WE FORGET.

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HAPPINESS is not for sale

Every article, blog or newsletter I pick up seems to suggest ways we can find happiness.  Or we are asked – what makes you happy?

This seems quite odd. My brain has always suggested one does not pursue happiness.  Happiness finds you.  It finds you when you are doing something you enjoy, something you feel is worthwhile.  Or you’re doing something you don’t like – but, by golly, you’re doing it because it needed doing.

When our grandchildren were much younger, I was sharing grandmom wisdom. “Money does not make you happy” was the theme.  Three pretended to agree – one had a different opinion.  He solemnly pondered this shattering news, and said “It would make ME happy.”   He was partially right. It depends on how we use our money

Few of us wake up saying “I’m going to be happy today!”  What activates our happiness button is a friend’s unexpected call, clapping as babies move with the music, a wedding invitation … simple things that keep life on keel.

When asked what makes me happy, my response is: being alive, play time with my great grandbabies, lunch with friends, a good book . It’s a long list.   

Have you noticed? If we make room, happy moments  seem to expand.  So, grab them – and hold on. 

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Mother's Day is almost here. 

I thought it would be fun to remember some of the things our mothers and grandmothers used to say.

Things we now find ourselves saying.  I wish I could add the voices, the faces, the places.  I leave that to you.

• Just because everybody's doing it doesn't make it right.
• How do you know you don't like it, you haven't tried it.
• You'll thank me for this one day.
• This isn't a hotel you know.     
• Just wait 'til you have children of your own.            
• Were you born in a barn?
• You'd talk the hind legs off a donkey.
• Because I'm your mother-that's why!           
• Money doesn't grow on trees.
• Mind your manners.  Don't talk with your mouth full.    
• To our constant "I wish" - the response: If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.
• Idle hands are the devil's work tools.  
• Here -put yourself to good use.                                                         

The list is a long one.   Add your favorites, and share.

And so ... To mothers everywhere ... Thanks for the memories.  They live on.

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A few weeks ago, I was a guest at a Rotary Club meeting.  The speech title was How Did I Get here? 

Hearing the talk made me ask the same question. Reflections took me back to the day I arrived in the United States, October 13, 1952.  I was 19 years old.  Coming from a small town in Lancashire I was agog at the noise, the buildings, the strange accents.  It was love at first sight and sounds.

What mostly filled my memory bank though, was the kindness of strangers.  Starting in the Diner at the docks.  I’ll just have tea, I tell the burly server.  A tall glass of tea with ice appeared.  Oh, I want hot tea.  No, you don’t, said my new friend. Our tea is worse than your coffee. Here, this one’s on me … welcome to America.  He poured a cup of black coffee, and that’s still my favorite drink.

And so, life continued. Strangers helping me navigate subways. Kind employers hiring me despite my still thinking in pounds, shillings, and pence.  The young man at the Y sharing his lunch when my plate was sparse. A lifetime of kindness on parade in my brain.

When I ask myself – How Did I Get Here?  The answer is always, ‘through the kindness of strangers – and friends.’   And I silently thank you.

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The message below is from Steve Cole.  Steve is a leader at Veterans Bridge Home, one of my most admired organizations.  The message hit a special appreciation button for me, and I asked permission to share.The response, true Military style, was 'Yes ma'am' ... Enjoy. Appreciate. Celebrate.

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Cheers to the "Brats"



April is the Month of the Military Child. The symbol of the "brat" is a dandelion, a flower that spreads on the wind and thrives wherever its seeds land.

This month we honor the incredible strength, resilience, and spirit of military children . These young heroes often face unique challenges from frequent moves and school changes to long separations from deployed parents—all while showing remarkable adaptability and courage.

Military children may not wear a uniform, but they serve in their own way. They stand tall through transitions, support their families, and often grow up with a deep sense of duty, community, and pride. Whether they’re attending new schools, making new friends, or saying goodbye to familiar faces, military kids navigate it all with strength beyond their years.

At VBH, we serve service members, veterans, AND their families (including their kids). Throughout April, we encourage everyone to show support by wearing purple on “Purple Up! Day,” a visible reminder that we stand behind these young members of our military families. Purple symbolizes all branches of the military—a blend of Army green, Coast Guard blue, Air Force blue, Marine red, and Navy blue.

To all the military children out there: we see you, we celebrate you, and we are grateful for all that you do.

Be the Bridge!

Steve Cole

Veterans Bridge Home

Earlier this week I had the privilege of attending a luncheon honoring 14 young women. They had completed a nine-month Leadership program.  This, in addition to other studies, full-time jobs, and in some cases children.  They were an impressive group.

Their varied and obvious career skills were on quiet display.   And yet, what especially caught my ear was how often they referred to ‘discoveries’ we more senior women take for granted.

Their discoveries included, Bet On Yourself.  Know Your Worth. Raise your hand. Give credit to others. Show Up. Ask for help.  Courage is not the absence of fear-it’s the ability to act despite our fear.

 The big gift each of these extraordinary young women seemed to take away was: What lies behind us, and what lies before us are tiny matters – compared to what lies within us

For senior women, our gift was the realization that – in many areas of life, the more things change, the more they stay the same.  Which means – because we know something doesn’t mean everyone does.  Risk it.  Share the lessons.

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