Sitting in different meetings over these last years, I’m reminded of how I’ve had the opportunity to come full circle in giving back to significant areas in my life. In one instance, participating with TRU Community Care hospice has offered
that connection. In another, involving myself at the university has suited me well.

I’ve had the good fortune to meet Dr. Alan Snyder, my father’s doctor who recommended my parents consider hospice. As is often the case, it seemed “too soon” for them. They weren’t ready for the support which ultimately came their way. From their special hospice nurse who came at elf uhr (11 a.m.), with whom they could practice German keeping that language alive, to a volunteer who later would become mother’s travel companion, the support they received paid dividends beyond anything we could have imagined.

Now as I serve on the board of what was the Hospice of Boulder and Broomfield Counties, the value of the care my parents received is reinforced. When my time came to participate in a spousal grief group, I too was surrounded with care from that same organization. Many of the founders have stepped forward now as Friends of TRU Hospice. With the intent to share the importance of end of life care, they too have come full circle.

When I change my seat to ones in the academic setting, I’m able to share some of what I learned in classes as well as provide support for students, faculty and programs. Seeing the impact of this support is priceless.

Even before my move home to Colorado, I had the opportunity to give back. Sharing our career journey with others entering a particular field, can be invaluable. Someone helped us as well along the way. Coming full circle and giving back becomes most rewarding.

Early last month, I was getting ready to write my cousin to double check her mother-in-law’s February birthdate. Before I sent my inquiry, an email came letting me know of this senior matriarch’s passing, roughly three weeks before her 105th
birthday.

What a ride I thought and said, as did my cousins in their communication. By stature, Edith was a little spit of a person, feisty and full of fun, vim ’n vigor. She, along with several other family matriarchs and that of another close friend all born in 1912, reached 90 around the same year.

I always enjoyed remembering Edith’s special birthday celebrations. With this Hoosier family’s love of the Indy 500, complete with decades of having reserved seats, they faithfully attended this Memorial Day event year after year.

When Edith reached 96, her family gave her a 180 mph ride around the Indianapolis Speedway track with Arie Luyendyk, Jr. In
celebration of her 102nd birthday, this time Mario Andretti took the wheel. Did she receive a carton of milk at the finish line – you bet! Pictures show her cheering following these fast experiences while dressed in race car driver attire.
Always thinking about another adventure, she chose parasailing with two of her grandson’s when she reached 100. There between these two young fellows sat Edith holding on and boasting a big smile.

We’re encouraged to live life to the fullest never knowing how long we’re fortunate to have. While many others we may know would have done just that, I’d say Edith packed in as much as possible into that little frame during her lifetime. Her family noted her favorite quote which holds a good message for us too: “Old age occurs the moment you realize there isn’t something wonderful to happen just around the corner. In some people, this occurs very soon; in others, not at all.”

Thanks, Edith, for the life lessons you showed us! Perhaps we too can embody some of that great spirit, while rejoicing in all life has to offer.

Photographers seem to have a knack for capturing some of life’s great moments in numerous situations. Occasionally, driving
around, I’ve found scenes which, if captured by camera, could prompt he telling of their own stories with captions.

Two such “road scenes” caught my eye and attention. Although in different neighborhood locations, each raised my curiosity.
In the first, when waiting at a traffic signal, I looked across the street. There by the bus stop stood a young father with his toddler age child in his arms. As the bus drew closer, the father began talking with his little boy, pointing out its arrival.

Soon a young woman got off the bus, hugged the man and embraced the child. The father took her bag, moving it to his should, then put the child with its outstretched arms into her embrace. With the child safely held by his mother, the
parents headed home arms around each other.

What a lovely scene, I thought, watching them walk away from the bus stop down a narrow patch of grass to the street below. I wondered if she rode the bus daily. What was her destination? Did she have a job elsewhere? Did the father care for their child or, perhaps, that day had picked him up from day care?

Regardless the answers, I turned into the intersection smiling thinking of their happy reunion. To my view, that “road scene” captured tenderness, expectation and a joyful, safe homecoming.

Another “road scene” caught my eye when driving down our street. This time, a teenage boy was walking along carrying a cellophane wrapped floral bouquet. Although my glance was quick, it too caught my interest.

These flowers were the only items he carried. He seemed rather focused on his destination, one known to him alone. Who would receive these flowers – a girlfriend, parent, grandparent or possibly, an ill friend?

Again, regardless the intended person, this floral gift elicited my, “Oh, how nice” comment. Neither scene occurred in February, a month often associated with flowers and displays of affection.

Whether captured on camera, our mind’s eye, or memory, such gifts of love exist around us all the time. We just have to be open to see them and await our own smile.

How often have we said or heard, “I can’t do that anymore”? Do we hear, “I’m so glad I can…”? Circumstances may enter the
picture making a “can do” statement no longer possible. Resources such as time, money, physical ability, interest or location add into this decision.

Sometimes having the financial ability without available time precludes some activities. Taking off work for months to travel the world, might tip into the “I can’t do” column. In between jobs, relocating, deciding it’s now or never, could change that to a can vs can’t. Several friends have done just that living in their motor home, touring the country before heading back to new jobs. What stories they have to tell!

Having sufficient falls and injuries while skiing caused one participant to decide hanging up those skis, boots, and poles was the wisest move. Wait. Keep those poles, because snow shoeing remains possible, thus providing an opportunity to enjoy that fresh mountain air amidst the gorgeous surroundings.

For joggers who’ve been discouraged from continuing that activity in consideration of injuring their knees, power walking, or just plain walking, remains an enjoyable alternative. Fall off the bike, get up, dust off and try again. Such riding
can still be done perhaps just not in a lengthy race or bicycle classic version.

If playing a certain sport, participating in an exercise program, creative or artistic activity wasn’t part of the earlier repertoire of fun things to do, being able to do any one of them now probably hasn’t changed much. Having an open
attitude to trying something new could yield a pleasant reality of what can be done.

How different is can vs can’t do from the glass half empty or half full? Doesn’t it revolve around celebrating, gratefully, what we can do? Setting aside the “can’t do’s” – possibly with a smile, sigh and thoughts of those happy memories – becomes a kindness we can do for ourselves. What can you do? Or, are you focusing on the can’ts?