Life 101: Is yours what you really want it to be?

I’m down for the count with a minor illness, which always makes me more contemplative than usual.

I quit my soul-sucking, bleeding-the-life-out-of-me job nearly two years ago to try to live a better life. People have asked me how I did that and/or why. The job, which I had loved for quite a few years, just became something I didn’t.

Less than two years before that, my younger brother (whom I adopted as my own, and he me, when we were in our teens) and my mother died, both of them unexpectedly, just nine weeks apart. Couple that with the death of two beloved German shepherds, one three months before my brother died and another just eight days after my mother died. That six-month period – which included getting two new dogs after the one died and finding out one of them was terminally ill just weeks after I got them – shook me to my very core.

After I wandered around in a fog of grief and pain for several months, my mind started asking questions, just a few of which I will mention here because they are important.

Why did all of my beloved family members die well before their time should’ve been up? They had hopes and dreams and things they were living for and boom, it was over, and all of those hopes and dreams were gone and wasted.

That led to: What do I still want to do with my life? What things do I really want to experience before I die? What places do I really want to go? Who are the people I really want to meet? Are there any things that I really want to purchase? And are there changes I want or need to make to make my life the best it can be before I die?

Answers came quickly. What to do about each of them took longer.

The first thing that came to my mind was Star Trek. Really. I remembered watching “The Original Series” when I was a child, when it was on in syndication. I loved it so much. That got me thinking about what I truly loved that I needed more of in my life and what I didn’t that needed to go out of my life.

Before Star Trek, when I was younger, I saw the animated “Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer” for the first time. I realized immediately that I was a misfit toy and that there were other misfit toys out there for me to be with who would accept me and love me for me. I just had to find them.

Spock made me feel the same way, but on a deeper level. He helped me know that I would find my place in the world, even though I was different from others, and I would find people who would not only accept me but even adore and care about me just the way I am. That was profound and it echoed throughout my life, as it continues to do to this day.

Well, there it was, the answer to question one: Star Trek. I had watched “The Next Generation” when it was on television, but since I had given up TV for other pursuits, I hadn’t seen any of the other series. My first goal was to watch them all.

That first revelation happened to come to me in December, just in time for a new year. I only make one resolution every year. (You can read more here about that.) I decided to watch everything Star Trek I could get my hands on, starting with all the series, every episode, and then move on to the movies and then any documentary I could find. I started Jan. 3 and I finished Dec. 27. I watched at least one Star Trek episode every single day. I had daylong and even weekendlong marathons. It was glorious.

In February, I starting thinking about those conventions they used to have. Surely they didn’t still happen, did they? A little Internet research showed they did and that the longest (in terms of days), biggest one (in terms of number of celebrity guests) was in Las Vegas. A few more clicks and a not-so-small amount of money purchased me a Gold ticket for that very year, at the end of July/beginning of August.

That trip changed my life. I had found my Island of Misfit Toys, my tribe, my new family. I was home. (You can read more here about that.) I now go every year and it restores my mind, body and soul.

Next, I started focusing on my health. I had been in a car accident less than a year before my family losses. I still wasn’t 100 percent recovered, and all the grief had halted my healing in its tracks. I started working on getting better and losing weight. That has been a long journey in its own right, but I still work on it every day. (That’s another post for another day.)

Next, I quit that job and moved across the country to live near my father and spend time with him while he still has time left on the planet. There have been ups and downs in this new life, and some hard times, but I’m now in a much better place than ever.

I’m now a freelance writer who writes what I want for whom I want when I want. I’m not making a lot of money, not like when I was managing four newspapers for a multimillion-dollar corporation, but I am making enough. And for the first time in my life, enough is good enough for me.

I have time to spend with my dad, to play with my German shepherd, to work on my beloved Camaro, to figure out who I really want to be, to make those changes that I want and need to make to get there, to make a new life and more good friends, and to spend time each year with my new family. Life is good.

Are you right where you want to be now? Are you living the life you want to every day? I’m happy every day. Maybe not all day every day, but every single day of my life is happy and good.

Every journey starts with a decision, one that you have to make with your heart and your head (I’ll write more about that later, because they are two very different things). And then you have to make a real commitment and take small steps toward your goal. That’s it. It really can be that simple. If you let it be; if you make it be.

Now, what is it you want for your life that you don’t yet have? Think about it. This isn’t a dress rehearsal and there are no do-overs. Get out there and be the real you. And be happy.

If this post speaks to you, I hope you will share it with others.

Kat’s official tips for having a great birthday

birthday-1114056_1920

I think we sometimes forget, especially when we have been adults for a while and we forget to play, that our birthday is supposed to be a celebration of ourselves and the fact that we are still alive. Remember when you were a child and everyone would gather and celebrate you? Why do we give that up as we age?

I recommend you don’t. And so, in case you are out of practice, I hereby give you some official tips for making it a great day. Of course, you can tweak them. Because it’s your day, it’s all about you!

These are in no particular order, although I wrote them chronologically based on my birthday this year. All of these tips would be good to fit into other days as well. But only if you want to have a good day. Or a good life.

  • Stay up until midnight, so you get to experience the first minute of your birthday. Be glad that you made it.
  • Sing happy birthday to yourself before you go to sleep. (I even told me how much I love me.)
  • Turn off the alarm and sleep until your body says it’s ready to get out of bed.
  • Snuggle with a German shepherd (or other animal of your choice).
  • Thank God for giving you another birthday. (A lot of people on the planet won’t get one this year.)
  • Hang around the house in your pajamas doing something you just want to do. (For me, that was reading and surfing the Internet.)
  • Eat something healthy first thing in the morning, because you know you’re going to eat things that are not so much later. (I had some of my favorite yogurt.)
  • Go out to breakfast with your dad (or other loved one) and have chocolate chip pancakes made from scratch.
  • Do something nice for someone else. (I helped my dad with some chores, because he still can’t lift much after his surgery.)
  • Take a drive in a vehicle you love. (I had to take Optimus because of the snow and salt. This was the first birthday I’ve had when I didn’t get to drive Cam. Sigh.)
  • Listen to some music you love, really loud. (For me, this included The Beatles, Ultravox, Billy Squier, Journey, Queensryche, A3, Smashing Pumpkins, Supernova and Kristian Leontiou.)
  • Throughout the day, look around for beauty. Really experience it, admire it and enjoy it.
  • Go around and pick up free presents for your birthday. (A lot of businesses will give you something if you ask. Other places have birthday clubs, where you automatically get something on your special day. This year, I got a free pastry, a free makeup kit, a free ice cream sundae and a free cocktail. I still have free popcorn and a free lunch coming.)
  • Get out with a group of friends, the more the merrier.
  • Have a really tasty meal that includes dessert.
  • Seek out and destroy some cake. (This isn’t a suggestion. It’s mandatory. If you haven’t been eating cake on your birthday, you’ve been doing it wrong.)
  • Go to a theater and marvel at how gorgeous Ryan Gosling is for two hours. (You might choose someone else to ogle. It’s your birthday, so it’s your choice.)
  • Laugh. A lot. Every chance you get.
  • Figure out your catchphrase. (You should have some statement that sums up the day and makes you instantly recall a joyous moment you had at some point during the day or evening. Again, if you’re not finishing your birthday with a catchphrase, you might be doing it wrong.)
  • Have a cupcake and a cocktail before bed. (If you don’t eat sugar, see cake rule above. If you don’t drink, have some kind of treat that you don’t often that you really enjoy. Savor it.)
  • Have additional snuggle session with above German shepherd (or other animal) before bed. (This is optional, but I highly recommend it.)
  • Fall asleep at whatever time you please, knowing you truly celebrated you and being alive.

Read my latest post on Dogster!

Lily (on the bottom) and her daughter Lola loved to play together every day.

Lily (on the bottom) and her daughter Lola loved to play together every day.

I didn’t even know they had posted this, so I am late sharing it with you. Sorry about that.

My Dog and I Bonded Deeply After Losing Our Mothers the Same Month

This story is about me and Lola losing our moms just eight days apart. It was a hard time for both of us. The funny thing is that earlier today, I said to her, “Maybe my mom had to go away so she could take care of your mom when she got there.” That reminded me that I had written this last month and it had never run, so I looked for it again.

Please go check it out and share this post with your animal-loving friends!

Read my latest post on Dogster!

ellie and me

Ellie always loved her squeaky tennis balls, and even had one in her mouth when we had photos taken a few months before she passed away.

I had no idea that they had put this up while I was on vacation.

Some of you will remember my beloved Ellie. I adopted her when she was 11 and she made it to almost 15. Although our time together was brief, I never regretted adopting an “old” dog!

I Adopted a Senior Dog I Didn’t Think Would Live a Year, and I’m Glad I Did

Please go check it out and share this post with your animal-loving friends!

Mother’s Day lessons had to be learned the hard way

Lola still looking down and sad on her second day after her emergency.

Here is Lola still looking down and sad on the second day after her emergency.

As a Motherless Daughter, I dread Mother’s Day and I try to lay low and let the day pass by. However, this year, I had some lessons to learn.

I went out of town Saturday night and while away, I got a call saying my German Shepherd, who was staying with my dad, was not well. After many questions, I was reassured she would be OK until I got back. I certainly didn’t think it was something serious.

The next morning, as I and a friend traveled home, I called my dad to see how Lola was doing. The news was not good. She had been down and in the same place all night, unwilling to even lift her head, and certainly not eating or drinking.

I know some people don’t think of pets as anything but animals and they don’t see what the big deal is about having them. But Lola is my daughter in every sense of the word. I am responsible for her health and welfare, I have taught her nearly everything she knows, I spend time and money on taking care of her and making sure she’s happy and well-adjusted, and I have built some part of my life around her.

My mom was my champion, my cheerleader, my best friend and a huge part of my support system. When I was little, she was my protector and my provider. I am now all of those things to my dog. I have become a mom.

I raced home to my little girl thinking how cruel it would be if my daughter died on Mother’s Day. I was already missing my mom, who died two years ago. Could the day get any worse? Indeed, it could.

Lola’s fever was high. She couldn’t even stand to greet me. She barely lifted part of her head, just enough so one eye could meet mine, and just the tip of her tail tapped the floor twice. My dad had called two strong men to carry her 95-pound body to my SUV. They carried her in a blanket and laid her down gently. (I’ll never forget the sight of those three grown men standing at the end of the driveway crying as I pulled away.)

Road construction and traffic hampered my drive to get Lola to the emergency animal hospital as soon as possible. But although I felt like I was dying inside, I handled the crisis with clarity and some sense of calm. My mom had always done the same when, as my dad likes to say, sh*t hit the fan. She was cool under pressure, doing her best to push off her feelings until the storm passed. I now did the same during the two-hour drive to my dad’s house and another nearly hour to the hospital.

But I have to confess that as a doctor and a tech put Lola onto a cart and rushed her through the double doors that said “No unauthorized entry,” I did not think I would get to bring my daughter home again. I had been at this point three times before in my life, with a shepherd in crisis that would not get to return home. There are few things I can think of that are as terrible as heading to the vet with a sick dog, hoping they will make it better, but instead coming home with just a collar and leash.

Five days later, I am sitting in my chair with my beloved child at my feet, writing this column. Every day and night, I have kept her quiet and safe and as comfortable as possible. I have slept little, waking every three to four hours each night to make sure she has her various medicines and that she’s resting comfortably. I have eaten smartly, so I can keep my strength up and not get sick while my daughter is counting on me not to fail.

Lola has two days of mandatory bed rest to go, and she’s getting better every day. I feel relieved that we’re at this point today. I feel thankful for my mom teaching me how to do the hardest job in the world. And I think she would be proud of the mother I’ve become. Here’s to a better Mother’s Day next year!

NASCAR, nudists, firewalking and the Green River Killer do not equal a bad job

firewalker

Being a newspaper reporter is one of the worst jobs you can do, according to a report released by Career Cast.

The report cites “fewer available jobs, a worsening industry forecast and paltry pay” as reasons for the ranking.

Those are real conditions and fears. Other studies cite the danger faced by reporters, some of whom are killed while doing their jobs.

I mourn them, and agree that the newspaper landscape isn’t as rosy as it once was. But even though I was in some dangerous positions and did deal with low pay as a newspaper reporter for much of 30 years, I am here to tell you, that job has been awesome.

There was the time I spent covering NASCAR for a small community weekly paper. Going to races, and being in the pits with the cars, drivers and crews, was so much fun. Tell me you wouldn’t have gotten a kick out of walking by drivers like Davey Allison, Darrell Waltrip, Ernie Irvan and Kyle Petty and having them call you by your first name.

There was the time I got to spend weeks with a police officer and his new K9 partner, attending their training sessions and learning about the bond dog and man form during that precious time before the pair puts their life on the line in the streets.

I even got to take my German Shepherd to a world-class K9 training facility and get instruction on how to teach my pup in German, something I have done with every one of my shepherds since.

The night R. Cork Kallen taught me about mind over matter, and I then walked on a bed of nails and on a bed of red-hot coals, changed my mindset about my limits. If I could focus and do those things without being injured, I could do anything. I still believe that to this day, and that one experience has allowed me to be brave enough to try things some people will never have the courage to try.

I was a “celebrity judge” at events too numerous to count, but they included pies, cakes and ice cream; singing and dancing; and counting nudists at a Guinness World Record attempt for the most people at a naked skinny dip.

I reviewed concerts and restaurants, and covered and/or met celebrities, rock stars and two presidents.

I got to try my hand at beekeeping, indoor skydiving, roller derby, race car driving (NASCAR again!), stand-up comedy, and making ice cream and butter just by using ingredients and a glass jar. I got to be the grand marshal in parades and the girl who waved the starting flag at a race. And I became what I call an expert for a day on many topics, including maple syrup making, cake decorating, quilting, base jumping, breakdancing and skateboarding.

I got to write about and participate in the search for a little boy who was missing in the freezing cold overnight. I cannot to this day describe the jubilation we all felt when he was found curled up with the family’s Golden Retriever.

I wrote stories about a man who lost his legs in a fire – how he lost his job and home after that and how he needed help. The day he drove up to my newspaper office and got down out of a van donated and equipped with hand controls by a local dealership, and came in to thank me for changing his life, still makes me cry.

I covered the aftermath of the Oklahoma City Bombing, arriving on the scene less than 12 hours after it happened, when you could still walk right up near the front of the building. No pictures, and not even video, ever did the destruction justice.

In my years covering crime, I got to meet and help many victims and/or their families with the way I treated them and my stories, and I was privileged to have their trust.

With much investigation and several factual stories, I helped keep a wrongly accused man from going to prison. And I will never forget him leaping toward me, picking me up in the courtroom and swinging me around, calling me his angel after the judge announced he was free to go.

I met and interviewed killers, some of them who had committed absolutely horrifying crimes, in my attempt to understand why such things happened.

I covered the entire case of Green River Killer Gary Ridgway, from his arrest to his sentencing. I even have a copy of the book I co-wrote about him with his signature and a message from him inside it.

So, when someone announces that the job of a newspaper reporter is one of the worst jobs, I just shake my head. In my opinion, it was the best job anyone could ever have.