I Followed The Yellow Brick Road

The Yellow Brick Road is more than just a path to the Emerald City; it symbolizes self-discovery, growth, and transformation. For all of us, each yellow brick represents the building blocks of our lives, the experiences, and lessons that shape who we are.

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  • The Wedding

    Some of those moments that you don’t think you will ever forget and just enough pictures to spark the memories.

    When we began to plan our wedding my Mom and Dad said we had a choice. We could have a very big affair like my sister’s the decade before, or we could have a modest wedding and use the extra money towards a down payment on our home. I guess we were pretty practical even back then because we chose modest and being able to buy our first home before we even walked down the aisle.

    Our wedding was a beautiful church wedding with the reception at the Holiday Inn banquet room. I remember the marquee sign out front had our names and I have a picture to prove that. I specifically remember that the price for the 3-tiered wedding cake and total price for the florals was the same $95. My gown was under $200 and of course the tuxedos were rented. I wanted impossible to find burgundy but we settled for baby blue. I remember him telling me he used a little mascara on a thin spot in his mustache but in my opinion we both looked perfect. Funny how you don’t think it at the time but I am still amazed every time I look at those pictures. One picture that makes me laugh each time is of us in the church lobby. We appear to have tears in our eyes as we are laughing. Although we did have a rehearsal for the ceremony, Wendell put the ring on the wrong hand. Something that went unnoticed by the Pastor who himself was never married.

    Where our ride to the wedding and reception was in my brothers car, our mode of transportation to our first night home was his 66 Oldsmobile 442 Convertible. The convertible will come up often in the stories ahead but for now I will tell you it was very fast and Sweetie’s pride and joy. I’m sure we had some sort of noise makers hanging from the bumper, but what sticks in my mind is the way the outside of the car was decorated. Shaving cream all over the car and I recall that one of his cousins tried to write something on the car but he didn’t know how to spell very well. Regardless we knew that the car needed to be cleaned off. I remember looking for one of this self service carwashes but don’ t remember if we found one.

  • And so begins the 50th Year countdown!

    I’m sure others shake their heads and make similar comments when they approach that milestone of 50 YEARS of marriage. And I bet there is a special category for those that can say it is to the same original spouse. But then here we are……

    Exactly 9 minutes ago my sweetie and I entered day one of our one year countdown to our 50th Year. He’s sleeping, I’m writing a blog. LOL I am a bit excited so I have to share my plan for the next 365 days. I am one who like to plan unique adventures/celebrations/observations of special occasions. Soooo much that I even wanted to start a business doing that for others. But as usual life got in the way and it never happened. But that did not stop me from doing it for me and my one and only. More on that later. So today I start to journal 365 memories that will be shared with him on our special day. I will plan the next year sharing and planning our celebration. There is a reason I like to share it this way. If I share it on here then when it is time to put it all together I can just print out the 365 blogs for him. Pretty smart eh?????? so here goes with the first entry. I actually posted this one as our Anniversary Message on FB:

    I am posting our anniversary post a day early. Today we had two early doctor appts, one being with Sweetie’s new sleep specialist for test results. After getting lost at the big complex we raced to the office but without the new insurance card. Thankfully I was still able to give them the information needed. The receptionist told Sweetie he should take me out to lunch for saving the day. He said we would wait until Thursday since it will be our 49th Anniversary. As our name was called and we walked down the hall she asked “wow 49 years, what’s the secret?” I didn’t get to answer.

    As we sat down I told Sweetie that I had slipped something in his pocket but not to look until after the visit. He looked over to me and said “you didn’t steal the little Jesus statue did you?” We both burst into laughter that had us teary eyed by the time the doctor walked in.

    The new doctor is amazing. She was able to diagnose and set up a plan to treat Sweetie’s severe tiredness. We were so thankful we both broke into tears. I don’t think she realized how much answers meant to us.

    On the way out I found the receptionist and told her I had the answer to her question. “To last 49 years we had to both laugh together and cry together” I then apologized for stealing one of the little Jesus statues, (btw, are placed there for that reason) I then asked her if I was going to go to hell.

    Next stop was his 2nd appt . When we entered, these two lovely ladies were sitting in the lobby. Sweetie headed to the counter for check in…I quickly pulled out my phone and texted him “OMG hide Jesus!”

    To the man that I have both laughed and cried with….Happy Anniversary and praying for another 49 years ♥️

  • There are so many kinds of “fitness”

    Yesterday the return of a Presidential Fitness Test was announced. I vividly remember the trauma of that process and failed miserable. It actually does not accomplish anything for the children that are subjected to this. Maybe we should initiate some tools to better prepare them for real life:

    Daily physical activities-that cannot be traded out for alternatives

    How to read a food label/meal plan/grocery shop healthy

    How to maintain a healthy brain and relationships

    How to manage finances/how credit/debt actually works

    How to fill out a job application

    Simple household management

    How to buy a car & Simple auto maintenance

    Where there are so many areas we are lacking in preparing our youth, this is not the area we need to promote even more body shaming.

  • Why I write…….

    Why do I write? I keep asking myself that question. It’s not that I forget the answer, but each time I ask, I find even more reasons. So let’s start with this one: I don’t want to forget how good life has been, is now, and will be in the years ahead. I am certain none of us would have a problem naming that one person, or maybe even more, who has had a change in their mental status—little changes, or maybe big and life-changing ones. It’s at that moment that I begin to panic and hyperventilate. WHAT IF IT HAPPENS TO ME? I have always prided myself on my memory, resourcefulness, and ability to pay attention to detail.

    Even now, as I look through old picture albums, I remind family and myself of all the fun things we have done through the years. Those beautiful memories stored in the back of our minds and hearts. We often hear people say how important it is to “live in the moment,” but what if your moment is trying to remember how wonderful life has treated us?

    I have never been in therapy, but have heard so much about the importance of journaling. Friends have shared how therapeutic it can be. I guess one reason I hesitate to journal is that someday I will not be here, and do I really want my loved ones looking through pages of my deepest thoughts? Or even worse, will they end up with the piles of nameless photographs and bronze baby shoes that break my heart when I visit antique stores?

    Lastly, some of my writings have been called funny, heartfelt, and even helpful. Isn’t it nice to see that others share some of the same fears or feelings as we do?

  • This one really stings.

    I originally had a much different subject to write about tonight but after a weird and “sad-for-me” afternoon I decided I needed to get this off my mind tonight.

    After recent media attention on the importance of having access to ones official birth certificate, I decided to pull ours out to confirm the required state seal. As the five of my siblings moved out we were each given our birth certificates, a recipe card with all of our major illnesses and inoculations, and so much more of our childhood paperwork. One of the treasures I had was 12 years worth of report cards. I am certain over the years I have glanced at them but today I realized a few things that have left me feeling unsettled.

    I do remember failing the Presidential Fitness Test. I was only able to complete two sit-ups in the one minute allotted and those were done with some cheating. Then there was the vision test where you signaled when you saw the red and yellow ball clearly in the vision screen and apparently in the 6th grade they also documented our height and weight. At 12 yrs old I was 56 1/2″ and weighed 60 lbs. Whaaaaaat happened to that trim svelte body? All kidding aside as per Dr. Google I should have weighed about 20 lbs. more. Now….I am an over achiever.

    I always thought I was an A/B student. I did very well in my adult life, having two successful careers, first as a preschool teacher for 17 years and then managing a very large volunteer program for 25 years. People have always looked to me for assistance and often comment how resourceful and knowledgeable I am. SO I guess in my mind I was a glowing student in my earlier days. It’s not that I failed but I did have my share of C’s and there were a few D’s and one F. I will say that there was a definite improvement when we moved from the north to the south in my 10th year. (even now the South seems to have a much lower educational standards than the North)

    The next thing I noticed was the large amount of missed days I had. This was consistent for most of my school years. In my earlier years several teachers even made reference to frequent absences. I do remember being teased in school and I wasn’t part of the popular group by any means. That is a pattern that has followed me through my life. I have to wonder if that was a reason for me missing so much school, I guess I blocked that part out of my memory.

    As a former teacher I completed hundred’s of evaluations for young children and then in my second career for senior volunteers. I always made it a point to provide honest feedback but always ending with at least one positive comment. I can’t stop reading my 6th grade teachers Report Card Remarks. She starts by mistakenly using “effects” instead of “affects”. Then she only provides negative feedback and to add insult to injury she even spelled my name wrong. This one really stings………

  • Does anyone else find showers mentally exhausting?

    I hate taking showers. It sounds odd, so let me clarify. I’m a very clean person, and my arthritic body certainly feels better after a nice hot shower. Physically, it’s a relief, but mentally? By the time I get to the fluffy towel, I’m utterly spent. It’s ironic, because my showers are often where I come up with some of my best ideas, and I’ve even solved some of my biggest cases. (Oh wait, that’s another story for another time – if you’re curious, jump on over to my other page, TheReSearchAngel.com). But does anyone else spend their shower time revisiting every disturbing thought they’ve had today, yesterday, or even ten years ago? Asking ‘Alexa’ to play some of my favorite tunes doesn’t make it any better, because every f***ing song is tied to a memory, a direct ticket back onto that anxiety-driven hamster wheel that just won’t stop. So, I switch to NPR News for a quick update. Blah blah blah, and then I hear China says it will not do anymore up until the end. END? End of what? OMG, here I go again.

  • I guess I’ll jump right in……

    Confession time: I’ve been contemplating starting a blog for years. If I had a dollar for every time the thought crossed my mind, I’d probably be retired already (and certainly not checking my savings tonight!). Life, with its endless demands and distractions, always seemed to offer a perfectly valid excuse for putting it off. But here’s the thing: life isn’t going to magically get simpler. So, it’s now or never. And honestly, who am I to think anyone will actually read this, let alone comment? (If you’ve made it this far, please do prove me wrong!)

    Originally, this blog was going to be my personal journal for mental well-being. Then, it morphed into a dedicated countdown to my retirement – just six short years away! Of course, there was the ‘life hacks’ phase (because who doesn’t need more tips on organizing your junk drawers). And we certainly can’t forget the idea of a place for all those stories – funny, bizarre, or inspirational – that were simply too long for Facebook.

    Well, guess what? You’re going to be stuck with all of the above. And lucky you, it won’t be in any organized, thematic manner. (Let’s be real, planning that would just delay starting by another few months!)

    So, let’s kick things off with how I decided on the title for this little corner of the internet. I’m one of those people who watched The Wizard of Oz more times than I can count. That magical movie, along with The Donna Reed Show, Leave it to Beaver, and those Fun with Dick and Jane books, painted a very specific vision of my adult future. A picture that over-promised and severely under-delivered.

    Now, don’t get me wrong, I LOOOOOVE my husband and family. But it wasn’t until I hit my twenties that I realized they were feeding us a whole lot of… well, you know. I genuinely believed that if I just followed all the rules and did everything I was ‘supposed to,’ I’d live happily ever after, just like those fictional characters. Instead, I’m a very complicated, unique, sometimes insecure, perpetually-worrying, anxiety-prone, 68-year-old middle-class woman (at least until I check our retirement savings tonight!). And honestly, I don’t see that changing much.

    But perhaps we can make this journey a little easier, and certainly more entertaining, with a few laughs along the way. So, are you in?