Why I Thank God Every Day for My Voice

I'm a singer. I can belt very high and hold a note for a decent amount of time. 

I also have the capability of talking to a room of 500 people without a microphone. I can get that loud. And I proved that today at church when we didn't have the key to get into the sound console to get out the microphones. We had to do everything sans audio today!

But it surprises even me that I have this capability. I feel that it is entirely a blessing from God. Here's why.

I was born with asthma. I was two weeks early. When I was born, my lungs were so filled up with fluid that they had to hang me on a downward angle with tubes in my lungs to drain them. I couldn't breathe. I was drowning in my own fluid. And if I had gone full term, I might not have made it. 

As a child, I couldn't run. If I ran, I would get out of breath, and my body didn't have the capacity to regain it's breath without medication. If I was playing kicksocker and I ran to first base, that's it. I was done, I had to go in the house because I was having an asthma attack and I needed medication to bring it under control. 

I spent a lot of time in the hospital. Up until I was about 12, I was in the hospital at least a week a year. Twice a day a respiratory tech would wheel in a big breathing machine -- they're obsolete now and replaced by nebulizers -- and I would have breathing treatments. When I was 10, I was in an oxygen tent. 

During the holidays, I was always sick. I was allergic to Christmas trees and I remember being four or five and not being able to lift my head up off the pillow. My siblings would come upstairs on Christmas morning after opening all their gifts and ask if I wanted to come downstairs and open mine and all I remember is saying no and how guilty I felt because I felt like I was letting them down and I know they felt the same way about me. I could see the guilt on their faces. I could barely lift my head off the pillow. One Christmas I made it to the couch but didn't really feel like opening presents. Someone had to open them for me. 

I could never play outside in the winter because the cold air would aggravate my lungs. In elementary school, during the winter, I always went inside and sat in the classroom alone for 20 minutes while everyone else stood outside in the freezing cold.

In second grade, I missed two months of school. In third grade I missed two months of school. In tenth grade, I got a doctor's note to get out of gym class because in ninth grade I had multiple asthma attacks trying to run around the gym. 

When I was 16, inhalers were approved by the FDA and made publicly available, and they changed my life. Suddenly I could breathe. I could exercise. I could do sports. So all my life I was on a daily maintenance inhaler and I also carried an emergency inhaler. Also, in my early twenties, my body developed the ability to regain its breathing pattern without medicine. All I had to do was stop whatever strenuous thing I was doing and my breathing came back to normal in 5 minutes. 

Meanwhile, all this time, I loved to sing to the radio and to records. Music was such a huge influence in my life. I used to write down lyrics. I spent my babysitting money as a teenager on 45s and albums. But I never had what I thought was a very good voice. I sang with the church folk group when I was 14 and was always afraid to sing loud because I didn't think I sounded good and nobody ever told me that I did so I figured if I did, they would have told me. 

When I hit about 40, I found singing to be so therapeutic that I would come home from work and sing for hours every night. Usually, it would be one song that I had fallen in love with and would sing over and over and over and over, until I fell in love with the next song and did the same thing. I eventually took singing lessons and became a karaoke junkie, going out six nights a week to sing. I was good at belting and hitting high notes. 

At the beginning of COVID, however, I had been suffering from laryngitis for three months, and I knew it was because the daily maintenance inhalers had been known to do damage to vocal chords. So I spoke with my doctor and told her I wanted to try going off my daily maintenance inhaler for two weeks and see how I did. If I couldn't breathe, I'd go back on. I had been on a daily maintenance inhaler for 48 years!

I've never gone back. Much to my surprise, I could breathe! Two weeks turned into two months, and then two years, and I have been off a daily maintenance inhaler now for five years! And, I gained back the two lowest notes on my singing register that I could never hit before!

The bottom line is, who would have thought that with all my lung problems, that I could sing, and not only sing but hit really high notes and hold them for long periods of time? It can only be God at work. 

If I had been born in the 1800s or 1700s, I would not have survived. I would not be alive today. I am grateful and thankful that the medicine worked when I needed it to but also that I no longer need it today. But I am most especially grateful for this gift I have been given from God. 

If you like fiction, please read my novel. It's a story of strength and success, but it has plenty of crime, deceit, backstabbing, and of course, love. Find In Fashion's Web on Amazon. It's available in print, on Kindle and on Audible. 

My Favorite Childhood Memories: How Many Can You Relate To?

I have some of the most amazing memories of my childhood growing up in New England. I was really big into climbing trees. I lived on a short dead end street that was downhill, and at the end it had a small woods. There was one tree in particular there that I really liked to climb. One day I remember I went up too high and my mom’s cousin Fuzzy (my second cousin, a police officer) had to come and get me down. I never went that high up again. 

My best friend Mary Ann lived in the house to the right of the woods. Her bedroom was at the front of the house and she had a little portable record player and she used to bring the record player out to the front porch and run the chord through her bedroom window. She had a box of 45s and we used to dance on the porch, just the two of us, for hours. 

It was the sixties and straight legged stretchy pants were in – funny how things come back, right? – and they had stirrups to put your feet through (thank God those didn’t come back!). She and I both had a set in every color. The two of us were constantly out there on the porch in our stretchy colored pants. She was probably around 9 and I was maybe 10 or 11. When I think back now we probably looked like dorks. But still to this day this is one of my favorite memories. 

From ages 4-11 I skated on a small pond in the winter. I remember it being full of parents, small children, teenagers, and lots of voices and laughter – it was right out of a Currier & Ives picture book. But before we went to the pond, we learned how to skate in the backyard. We lived on the left side of a two-family house that Fuzzy owned, and we had an above-ground pool. In the winter he emptied the water and took the pool down. But there was aluminum sheeting just 5 inches high that encased the circle that the pool went into, and one day, when temperatures were below freezing, Fuzzy filled the circle with water, and it froze. My mom bought us all beginner skates with double runners, and that was the start of a lifelong love affair with ice skating. I feel so grateful to have grown up with that experience. 

I grew up on the shoreline of the Atlantic Ocean, and always within walking distance of the beach. As soon as I was old enough to be independent, I would walk to the beach. I spent entire summers there. Now, I could never live inland for any length of time. I need to have a beach nearby. I’m not a sunworshiper per se. I just really enjoy walking along the shoreline and taking in all the smells, sights and sounds -- the waves crashing, the seagulls chirping, the feel of the breeze coming in off the water as it brushed against my face and arms.

I feel so grateful to have had a great childhood. I was raised by a single mom who worked two jobs her whole life, and I was also a very sick child, in and out of the hospital a lot. But I and my siblings never lacked for anything. I hope your childhood memories bring a smile to your face like mine do!

If you like fiction, please read my novel. It's a story of strength and success, but it has plenty of crime, deceit, backstabbing, and of course, love. Find In Fashion's Web on Amazon. It's available in print, on Kindle and on Audible. 

Back When I Was A Las Vegas Showgirl

In April 2004 I was on a business trip in Las Vegas and staying at the Paris Hotel. Walking down the hall with my then husband Adrian, there was an open-air storefront for a photography studio that would put your face on a magazine cover. Think Sports Illustrated with you holding the biggest fish ever caught! LOL.

So the guy's waving us over and we're like, no thanks, not interested. And he said, "C'mon, c'mon, just look, no pressure." So I got in front of the big white screen and all I could see was the camera in front of me and  the white screen behind me. 

So I'm standing there for a few minutes and people are walking by and they're laughing hysterically, and I'm wondering, what is so funny? 

Finally the guy shows me the picture. He had put my face on the body of a Las Vegas showgirl. Well as soon as I saw it I knew I had to take that picture home! 

For years it hung on the wall of my home office. And every time we had a visitor and I was giving the nickel tour, we'd get to the picture and I would say, "Boy those were the days when I had really flat abs!!!" And people would look at me with the most serious expression like they thought I really meant it! After all, it does look just like me, right????

I'm not a prankster but it was fun seeing people's expressions!

If you like murder, love and intrigue, please check out my novel, In Fashion's Web on Amazon.

Black Lives Have Always Mattered to Me…but I Admit I’m Not Perfect

I was taught that all people are equal at a very early age. I remember when I was about 5 years old, my mom’s best friend was a black woman. The fact that she was a maid for the rich family who owned the company my mother worked for was something that I did not comprehend at a young age. 

Once a week, my mom would take us to the company softball games, the team of which was heavily populated by the black men who worked in the factory. Then after the games, my mom would go with her girlfriend to a black bar. While I was aware that it was black bar, it was not something I cared about or concerned myself with. We ran around and played as all children do.

I went to a private Christian elementary school called St. Mary’s. We had black students, but they were very rare, so rare that there were only about one per grade. Their rarity made them special and there was no racism that I was aware of. What I was too young (or too white?) to understand is what it must have felt like to be the only person of color in an entirely white class.

In 9th grade, at a private Christian high school, I befriended a Haitian girl. Yolanda. She and I became very close that year. In hindsight, I probably latched on to her because I didn’t want her to be alone. I was trying to protect her and let her know that she had a friend. 

For the rest of my high school years, I transferred to a larger public school where racial riots were in full force. Thankfully, I never had a problem. I like to think it was because I treated everyone equally. 

However, as I said, I am not perfect. I remember one day when I was in my twenties, I was carrying groceries into my apartment building and a black man was walking behind me. He asked if he could help. I said no thank you. I like to think that it was more because he was a stranger than the fact that he was black, but he ended up being a friend of my neighbor John across the way, and I said, oh you’re a friend of John’s. If I had known I would have let you help. And he asked if he had been white would I have let him help? And I honestly don’t know the answer. To this day, this situation still haunts me. 

When I reached around my forties, that’s when I learned that treating everyone equally is not enough to eliminate racism. I learned that black people, particularly black women, don’t want their color to be invisible, but rather, they want to embrace their color and want others to embrace it too.

I try not to judge people and to accept everyone for their true selves. But I realize that I am not perfect and I hope to continue to learn and grow in my humanity and my compassion. I pray that others will too.

Please Donate to Komen.Org to Help with the Fight Against Breast Cancer

And if you donate by October 31, Bank of America and other Komen partners will triple your gift!

In mid-September of this year, I woke up on a Saturday morning and discovered a dark purple bruise on my right breast. Knowing that breast bruising could be affiliated with a fast growing, aggressive breast cancer without lumps, I was scared. It took 10 days for me to find out that my bruise, thankfully, was just a bruise. But not before I had completely convinced myself that my life had changed in an instant and it was never going to be the same again.

I was one of the lucky ones. But it certainly was an experience I will never forget.

So I would be remiss if I let the entire month of October pass by without pointing out to the world that it is Breast Cancer Awareness month. And if you donate to the Susan G. Komen Foundation, Bank of America, a key partner of the Susan G. Komen Foundation, as well as other partners of SGK, will triple your gift!

The Susan G. Komen Foundation funds research for the goal of getting the current number of breast cancer deaths down by 50 percent by 2026. Will you help?

DONATE HERE. Thank you.

Is Your Binge Watching Turning Into an Addiction?

Having an addictive personality is 50 percent genetics and 50 percent poor coping skills. At least that's what they say at addictionsandrecovery.org.

But what if new technology is making us more addictive than ever, and training the next generation of people, including those who might not have an addictive personality, to become addicts?

One behavior in particular that has me concerned is binge-watching a TV show. Traditional TV is like maintaining portion control when eating. With TV, you schedule your watching when the shows are on, and you only watch one episode a week, like having three square meals a day.

Conversely, binge watching is like an all-you-can-eat buffet. We can have as much as want, as often as we want. Nobody tells us when to stop or what not to eat. Is that a healthy behavior for us to get used to? And even more, is it a healthy behavior for us to teach our children? We've already set a precedent with video games. I, personally, have been addicted to a good book. Would binge watching be adding another nail in the addiction coffin?

Now imagine someone who has an addictive personality. Maybe they're a drug addict, an alcoholic, a smoker, a food addict. Someone who has the addictive gene in their DNA would probably become even more addicted to binge-watching TV than someone who doesn't have the gene.

I think it's important that we all keep our binge watching in perspective. I suggest the following:

• Limit the number of episodes you watch per week.
• Put your to-do list first and don't start binge watching until all your chores are done and responsibilities are taken care of. 
• If you find yourself getting in too deep, stand up and take a break. Change your scenery, breathe deep, take a walk, look around you and see what else needs to be taken care of before you go back to the TV.

Remember, it's just television. Don't ignore your real life because of it.

If you like a good book that keeps you on your toes and surprises you at every turn, please check out my novel, In Fashion's Web on Amazon. It has 10 5-star reviews!

I Have a Dream, Too

No, it’s nothing like that of the late, great Dr. Martin Luther King. Not even close. But it’s something that has been on my mind since I was a teenager. And that was a very (very!) long time ago. It’s about healing the earth.

My vision is this:

I would like to see recycling become the third largest industry in America behind manufacturing and farming. I believe we need to start building huge recycling centers where robots, machines and people separate garbage from recyclable materials and send the recyclables directly down a shoot into a recycling factory.

The problem with today’s recycling system is that hardly anything gets recycled. There is more recyclable material still thrown away today, in my opinion, than is getting recycled. Nobody recycles at parties. My gym doesn’t bother recycling. Even where I work the building doesn’t recycle. And I live in a recycling state. I would guess we’re probably recycling about 10 percent of what we should be today.

Also, it’s rumored that, in many towns the two trucks – one for trash and one for recycling – actually unload their wares at the same dump when no one is looking. So while, on the outside, it looks like we’re doing a good job of it as a country, I think we’re actually doing a lousy job of it, and until we reach 100 percent recycling of all recyclable materials, we’re not going to make any progress with global warming.

There’s money to be made in recycling if we treat it like a business and it would be if it was run by engineers and scientists. Also, I think there should be a ‘chief recycling officer’ on the U.S. president’s team.

Recycled materials should go into literally every single thing that is produced, provided it has durabilty and strength. There could be a nationwide invention contest where people try to come up with new ideas and the best ones win, I don’t know, maybe a business contract, or a full college education. And if we were serious about doing it, then the cost of recycled materials and recycling production would come down.

If it was the third largest industry in America, it would pay well and offer great benefits and job advancement. College graduates would have job priority and the business model would be based on project management and problem solving, not boring assembly lines. There would be research and development (R&D) divisions in every state to constantly look at ways to improve both manufacturing and recycling.

Also, every recycling center would have a thrift shop where things that were thrown out but fixable would be pulled off the line and repaired and refurbished, and then sold in these cute little boutiques at the recycling centers all around the country.

Anyway, that’s my dream. It really excites me and I may not see it in my lifetime, but I would like to think that someday, this just might come true.

If you like a good book that keeps you on your toes and surprises you at every turn, please check out my novel, In Fashion's Web on Amazon. It's got 10 5-star reviews!