Month: December 2023

I was at a reunion with a group of dear friends several weeks ago when our dinner conversation turned to our hopes and fears about the future. We were mostly beyond Medicare age and had known one another for over 40 years. One person indicated that she hoped that her life had made a difference. She was challenged by another friend by asking just what she meant by making a difference. I began to think further about this question.

Last year when I wrote about the new year, I talked about not necessarily having a Happy New Year but a Hopeful New Year. I still like that idea and am thinking about the subtleties of hoping to make positive differences in the coming year.

I have concluded that setting out to make a difference is not a realistic goal as a resolution. I am not advocating that people abdicate New Years Resolutions, but I recognize that making a difference, just like being happy, is a process and not a product.

Differences relate to big and little things. It assumes making life better for people and animals in some way. Most of us will not make a big transformation in the world. Numerous little things, however, such as acts of kindness and caring can make a constructive difference in someone’s life even if for a few minutes. Those actions ought to be implicit in our lives. My resolve starting today is to be kind and have faith that this behavior will make an affirmative difference.

I recently read a eulogy about a woman who had changed the lives of homeless people in her community. She had goals in mind for what needed to happen. She quietly set out to help the individuals she met. People remembering her acknowledged that she had made a huge difference through her numerous small acts of caring and kindness.

Mahatma Gandhi summed up my thinking for what guides me into 2024: “It’s the action, not the fruit of the action, that’s important. You have to do the right thing. It may not be in your power, may not be in your time, that there’ll be any fruit. But that doesn’t mean you stop doing the right thing. You may never know what results come from your action. But if you do nothing, there will be no result.”

Have a happy, hopeful, and caring new year!

Gift-giving is not reserved for only one time of the year, even though gift giving is seriously on people’s minds this time of the year. Although I like to give gifts that others will appreciate, I am aware more than ever that the best gifts are not necessarily those that result in “stuff.”

In all transparency I admit that I do not enjoy shopping. I do like to give gifts if I have good ideas that are easy to access. I cherish many gifts that people have given me over the years. I know the thought and effort went into getting me just the right gift. For example, I have a beautiful framed photographic print of Ansel Adam’s, “The Tetons and the Snake River.” My good friend who passed away two years ago gave it to me because I often talked about the beauty of that area. I received a coffee cup from a longtime friend after we climbed Mt. Whitney. I use it every week and think about that mountain and him.

Nevertheless, the best gifts that I can give as well as receive these days are not necessarily things. They are memories.

I like to give gifts of experiences. These gifts are not altruistic as I get to participate as well. Over the years I have enjoyed giving live theater tickets or opportunities to go to a special holiday presentation of something. For example, last year I took three special friends to see Mannheim Steamroller at the Denver Performing Arts Center. Seeing that group has been on my bucket list for years. Taking others who enjoyed it as much as me was a special gift for all of us.

Years ago, my parents, sisters, and I decided that we were not going to give each other gifts unless it was something special and/or homemade. We all had everything that we needed, or could purchase what was important. We gave donations to organizations on behalf of one another to honor the season. I continue to make these donations and love to be able to offer a financial gift “in honor of (someone).”

Most family members and friends have all that they need. I focus on giving anonymous gifts that benefit important causes or go to people who need necessities far more than me.

I was volunteering at Bear Lake one Saturday this summer. An older seasonal ranger was convivial with the visitors as I worked alongside him. A young woman walked up holding a 10-month-old baby boy. She started to ask the ranger a question. Before she could speak, he spoke to the baby, “Hey buddy. Are you living your best life right now? Well, it hasn’t been a long life, but it looks like it is the best!”

I thought what a sweet comment and began to think about how one answered the question about living one’s “best life.” I have never had children, but I would wish that every kid was able to live their best life as they grow up. In a world full of conflict and natural disasters, my heart breaks for those children that will struggle to find their best life. Being a baby at Rocky Mountain National Park seems to be a fairly good deal.

I don’t want a discussion of living your best life to sound like a poster that might hang in a dentist office, but the idea is worth contemplating. I am living my best life today. What could be better than living in a beautiful place, having caring friends, being in good health (most of the time), and seeking to embody service living.

I have experienced some (perceived) failure in my quest for my best life but dwelling on my inadequacies does not change anything. What I have is good. I know, however, that I cannot be complacent as life can change quickly. For example, recently I had the flu. I felt miserable. I was living anything close to my best life during those few days. My recovery was slow and I had time to think about how fortunate I am. I felt sorry for myself when I was sick, and yet recognized that I was lucky to have medicine and healthy food, even though I didn’t feel like eating. I wasn’t at my best, but I was still living a good life.

Now that I am over the illness, I appreciate my life more than before. I wish for that young Bear Lake visitor to live his best life so that in the end it is a “life well lived.” I hope he grows up to love public lands and enjoys them for years to come.

Dear Mom,

A day never goes by that I don’t think about you and dad. During this Christmas time, however, I am poignantly aware of how much I miss you, mom, as I remember Christmases past and the things that you loved about Christmas.

You instilled in me a fondness for Christmas music and yearly traditions. In your passing I have come to appreciate Christmas more than I did when you were living. My memories of you at Christmas are gentle in my heart. I recall Christmas with you when you and dad still lived on the farm, years on the acreage near Cedar Rapids after you retired, and your final years after dad passed.

Regardless of the time, I cherish the delight you experienced in giving to others during the season and especially your love of Christmas music performed by choirs and choruses. One of the Christmas eve traditions both on the farm and after you moved was to go to church, drive around looking for Christmas lights, and then go home for Christmas eve snacks and listening to the public television presentations of Iowa college choirs such as at Wartburg and Luther. Dad would snooze as we enjoyed those youthful holiday choruses on TV.

Certain tunes I hear remind me of you and I smile: Do you Hear what I Hear? O Holy Night, O Come O Come Emmanuel, Ding, Dong Merrily on High, and your favorite, All is Well with my Soul.

After Dad died, it was just you and me on Christmas eve since my sisters had their own family traditions with our whole family gathering reserved for Christmas Day. In those five years without Dad, I took you to the late afternoon Christmas service, we drove around looking for lights, ate dinner and had a glass of wine at a nice Italian restaurant, and watched the public television performances in the evening. I will never forget the last Christmas eve we spent together at St Mark’s candlelight service. As I helped you stand and waited for the benediction, I looked over at you smiling as the light reflected on your face by your candle. I will always hold that image in my heart.

With you no longer on this earth, I will go to a Christmas eve service this year to honor your love of that event. I will make myself a Christmas eve snack and listen to religious Christmas music that never grows tiring. I will remember you, mom, and know that “all is well with your soul” and you are now singing Christmas tunes with the angels.

Love, Karla