New blog name! Sound the alarms! New blog name!

I was so excited to start this blog that I did so without giving it a proper name. I wanted the name to be meaningful to me, yet represent my existence, my purpose, personality and thought process. Some friends and relatives were kind enough to offer suggestions that ranged from funny to serious and everything in-between, but in the end I settled on a name that I feel "speaks" to me on many different levels and is a metaphor for my life. The name I have chosen for my blog is..."I walk in lucky shoes".

I have loved that phrase since the moment I heard it. The person who said it was a woman by the name of Phyllis Greene. Phyllis Greene became a bestselling author in her eighties and started blogging in her nineties! (http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/8999217.stm) She wrote mostly about her life as an aged woman and hospice patient, but by no means were her blogs what you might think. In fact, her writing was smart, witty, current and positive despite the subject matter. (http://wedeb90.blogspot.com/) She had an amazing life, one that she savored, valued and truly lived as you can tell by this excerpt from her obituary: 

"Mrs. Greene was a graduate of the Columbus School for Girls and a Phi Beta Kappa graduate of Wellesley College. She was a founder of the Columbus Metropolitan Club; chairperson of the Women's Auxiliaries Council of Children's Hospital, United Community Council, Volunteer Action Center, Community Information and Referral Services, the Columbus Airport and Aviation Commission, and the Franklin University Board of Trustees; and president of the Bexley Board of Education. She was the recipient of the Columbus Metropolitan Library's Julian Sinclair Smith Lifelong Learning Award, and was twice named the Columbus Citizen-Journal's Woman of the Year. At the age of 82 she became a nationally bestselling author with her first book, "It Must Have Been Moonglow: Reflections on the First Years of Widowhood," and followed it with two more, "Shedding Years" and, with her daughter, "Designated Daughter: The Bonus Years with Mom." In her final months, even though confined to her bed, she inspired people around the world when the BBC television network came to Columbus to feature her in a documentary about remaining vital and involved in old age; she received letters of gratitude and admiration from viewers in 51 countries." 

Phyllis Greene also gave birth to and raised my SSFL (Soul Sister For Life), DG Fulford. (My inspiration for writing, period!) And, I believe, it was in the book they co-authored, Designated Daughter: The Bonus Years With Mom, that she said "I walk in lucky shoes". When I read that, it felt like one of those Oprah Winfrey "ah ha" moments. 

And, I do. More than just the name of my blog, I walk in lucky shoes, indeed. Despite a less than ideal childhood and some traumatic life experience, I'm still here. Like Elton John said, "I'm still standing!" (yeah yeah yeah) I have been fortunate enough (lucky, even?) to have learned some hard life lessons, that have built my character and given me the tools to survive. Yes, survive, as in to keep on living. Not that my entire life has been doom and gloom, mind you. But, there have been enough low points to make a difference. Oh, and what a difference they have made! So much so that I feel lucky in almost countless ways every day of my life. Now.

Looking back, I see where I could have let the darkness surround me (forever), succumb to depression and wallow in my despair. I delight in the fact that my progress from back then to now is so tangible, palpable, concrete, real. I'll be honest, there were times when I didn't think I'd make it to the next day, nor did I care to. That kind of darkness is a sneaky bastard. It sidles up next to you, insinuates itself and, pretty soon, you don't remember life without it. It was tough to shake. Like an alcoholic trying to get sober, I had to make a conscious decision to try and get happy. If you think you can just wake up one morning and decide to be happy, I'm here to say, you're delusional and full of crap. (You are, believe me.) That isn't how it works. You have to earn it. You have to want something better for yourself, then you have to put in the work to make things start happening. I fell off that wagon more times than I care to admit.

Things started to change when I realized that I was responsible for my own happiness. Let me tell you, it isn't always easy or fun and some days are just plain shitty. But, the struggle is worth it in the end.

I had to learn to walk in these lucky shoes, and I walked thousands of miles before I felt even remotely lucky! I stumbled, I tripped, I fell. I got up...reluctantly...slowly, but kept walking. My lucky shoes have taken tentative baby steps, as well as colossal missteps, been too tight at times and too big to fill at others, they have given me blisters and been scratched and scuffed with soles full of holes. They have also hopped, skipped and jumped for joy, taken huge leaps of faith and landed safely, followed the bliss-the heart-the love, supported more than just my arches and happily danced all night.

I walk in lucky shoes. I can't think of a better name for my blog or term to describe my life today. It's not perfect and I guess there is always room for improvement, but I can't complain. I feel lucky! And thankful! Thankful to be alive. Thankful to God and all my angels disguised as friends, relatives, therapists and thoughtful strangers who helped me get here.

I hope you walk in lucky shoes, too. If not, try some on for size. I guarantee, once you break them in, the path gets a little easier to walk, and before you know it, you begin to notice a little spring in your step, then  waa-laa!, you're walking in lucky shoes! Just like me.

Has it really been twenty years?

Today it has been twenty years since Clay's death. (For those of you who may not know, Clay was my husband and he was killed in an automobile accident in 1993.) I had a completely different post written about it. It was all about the horrible day it happened. But then, I got to thinking about it and decided that twenty years later I don't want to dwell in the past. I don't want to relive that awful day for the millionth time. Instead, I'd like to remember Clay for what he was; a brilliant mind, a kind generous and tender-hearted man who loved God and his family, a gentle soul, an extremely happy spirit, a helper, a teacher, a builder, a champion of the underdog, blood donor extraordinaire, witty, strong, faithful, funny, sympathetic, empathetic, patient, serious, silly and the most positive person ever.

Even twenty years after his death people still have the nicest things to say about him. I think most of us would be lucky to even be remembered vaguely a few years after dying, let alone twenty years later. That is his legacy, though. He made such an impression in his short time on earth. The day of his funeral an older rather frail looking man came up to me. He was pretty shaky and walked with a cane. He wanted to tell me how much Clay's help and visits meant to him over the past few years especially in the few months before his death. This guy told me about Clay visiting him several times a month, buying him groceries, calling to check on him and making sure he was okay. I did not have a clue who this guy was. Turns out he was an engineer who had worked closely with Clay's dad, Leroy. He was an old timer that had been sort of forced out of the company he and Leroy worked for. (The same company Clay would work for, as well, although many years later.) Clay never mentioned his good-deed-doing for this old guy, although I do remember him talking about a friend of his dad's that wasn't doing well. However, that isn't an isolated story. But it is typical of how Clay lived his life; always doing something good usually for someone else.

Clay English sure changed my life. Everything I have learned about loving and sharing my heart was taught to me through his example. He loved me even when I made it difficult for him to do so. He never gave up on me. I always had a hard time believing someone as wonderful as Clay could love someone like me so unconditionally. I saw myself as flawed, damaged, unlovable and told him so. He told me I wasn't the lump of coal I thought I was and that if I looked closer I would surely see what he saw-a brilliant diamond. I am laughing at this memory just as I laughed then. The very thought of myself as "a brilliant diamond" is  hilariously ridiculous in my mind's eye. But then, that was one of those little things he did that I really wanted to believe, whether I want to admit it or not.

I am lucky and blessed for having known Clay English. I am humbled that such a rare soul choose me to love and be his wife and mother of his children. It has been twenty long years without him though hardly a day has passed without thinking of him or being reminded of him in one way or another. I see him in his children and his grandchildren, too. His name lives on through his namesake grandson, Jon Clayton English (Baby Clay). Like a friend of his said to me "It's about time there was another Clay English". He is remembered with tremendous fondness and love by his friends and family. What a beautiful, beautiful legacy.