Tag: gratitude

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Opinion The Last Word

Say ‘Thank You’

A young Alice always looked forward to postcards from Mama ’Cile. (Photo: Courtesy Alice Faye Duncan)

Dear friend, I am writing to you from my native city and home, Memphis, Tennessee. It is an easy Sunday morning complete with blue skies and sunshine. The temperature is a balmy 70 degrees. Will it remain easy? Not sure. As I write, the U.S. presidential election is two days away. To stay hopeful in this season of rampant misinformation and uncivilized politics, my steady focus is on “thanks-giving.” Despite the rising cost of food and the outcome of the election, I trust that Americans who believe in democracy will still rise up this November to prepare joyful fellowships of feasting for family, friends, and the unhoused. No matter who wins on November 5th, I am believing that no one will steal or kill our spirt of gratitude for what remains good, generous, and kind. Remember the marching activists during the American Civil Rights Movement? They sang, “Ain’t gonna let nobody turn me around!” This must be our battle cry. In our homes and on the job, we must vow to be active expressions of gratefulness, even if we stand alone doing so.   

When I was a small child, I saw the power of gratitude modeled in the life of my godmother, Lucile Brazil Thompson, a valued employee at the local Buckman Laboratories. Whenever I gave Mama ’Cile a gift, she would mail a thank you note that was stamped and addressed to me. It was exciting to receive her travel postcards and thank-you notes because mail in my name made me feel grown and her words of gratitude made me feel appreciated. I loved to share gifts with Mama ’Cile because ultimately, I received the gift of a thank you note. 

Before I could spell well or write cursive letters, my mother Earline Duncan made me compose handwritten thank you cards when I received personal gifts. As a small child, I enjoyed receiving the cards, but I did not enjoy writing them. I would cry loudly, “Mama! I wanna use the telephone.” 

A quick call on one of those big black rotary phones did not suit my godmother’s standard of decorum and a phone call was not Earline Duncan’s favorite expression of gratitude, either. My mother would scold me and say, “When somebody takes precious time to buy you a gift, you should take precious time to write them a note.” I would grumble and push through the task, making sure to write complete sentences in my large block letters.

Composing personalized thank-you notes with gel pens and USPS Black Heritage Stamps is now a lifelong habit for me. No gift exchange is complete on my part until I have formally expressed my gratitude with a card and postage stamp. She is dead now but to my mother’s point, when a person spends money or time to offer me a kindness, I think it is good manners to reciprocate the sacrifice and serve them joy with a written acknowledgement that is more engaging and lasting than a quick text, phone call, or silence. 

In the tradition of Mama ’Cile and Earline Duncan, I encourage people to purchase greeting cards and postage before they need them. Keep a stash of stationery and stamps on deck especially during the winter holidays when there is a constant surge of giving and receiving gifts. In this way, you will be poised to make your thankful expressions promptly. The challenge to stop your routine and go buy stamps or cards will not exist. 

This idea of gratitude brings me back to the election. By the time you receive this missive from me, America will have a new president. And most likely, you will be planning your Thanksgiving gathering or attending one. Despite the election outcome, think about the good in life that remains and allow thoughts of gratitude to fill your heart with hope. 

Gratitude, like love, requires action. Therefore, make expressions of “thanks-giving” a constant part of your days. Refuse silence, discouragement, and giving-up. Acknowledge your blessings in thoughts, words, and deeds. Gratitude elevates the mood. It is a winning attitude. Say thank you. 

Alice Faye Duncan writes for children. She is the author of fourteen books including I Gotta Sing and Yellow Dog Blues. She will sign books Saturday, November 30th, at the Butterific Bakery & Café. Her website alicefayeduncan.com.

Categories
News News Feature

Why Planning for Retirement Is About More Than Money

Photo: Anukrati Omar | Unsplash

As you plan for retirement, it’s important to focus on having enough assets to live the life you want. Money and assets are just tools we use to express personal values and highlight what we view as important.

In the years leading up to retirement (or at any stage of life), be sure to focus on the things that will bring you joy, meaning, and fulfillment throughout the next chapter of life.

Health

You may have scrimped, saved, and invested your entire adult life to prepare for retirement, but what does it matter if you’re not healthy enough to enjoy your golden years? As you plan for your financial future, don’t forget to take care of your physical health.

Not only can a healthy lifestyle lead to a more fulfilling retirement but it can also help lower your retirement healthcare expenses and free up more money for enjoyable experiences. As an added potential benefit, your fitness journey may even lead to new hobbies as you transition into your retirement years.

Friends

It can be difficult to transition from the workforce, where you’re constantly surrounded by people, to a relatively solitary life. Social isolation can lead to multiple emotional and health-related issues, including depression, anxiety, and dementia. Even if you have a spouse to keep you company, you may benefit from spending time with friends outside your home.

In the years leading up to retirement, it’s important to start developing friendships with others. Consider seeking companionship through common interests. Perhaps you enjoy golfing, volunteering, or painting. Make an effort to connect with other people you encounter in these settings, and work to build some friendships prior to retiring.

Hobbies

Speaking of interests, retirees often find fulfillment by participating in hobbies. Have you always wanted to take up golf? Write a book? Try your hand at pickleball? Learn to throw a ceramic pot? Retirement is the time to do it! Don’t be afraid to put yourself out there and try something new. As you begin to explore new hobbies, try lots of new things and experiences — but don’t be afraid to quit quickly and try something new!

Purpose

Few retirees are done pursuing their goals after they leave the workforce. In fact, those who are most satisfied in retirement continue to have a clear sense of purpose in their lives — a mission that guides their actions. While it’s important to relax and have fun in retirement, it’s also important to find a sense of purpose and continue finding meaning in your daily life.

You may find purpose by continuing to work in retirement. Or perhaps you’re driven to volunteer with an organization that’s near and dear to your heart. Maybe your purpose comes from spending time with loved ones, caring for relatives, or teaching your grandchildren special skills.

It can be helpful to write down your purpose and view each action through the lens of “does this help me move toward my purpose or away from it?” You might be surprised how many decisions you make out of inertia or neglect and not in pursuit of your purpose!

Gratitude

Practicing gratitude can have a big impact on both your physical and emotional health. The benefits of gratitude include:

• Lower stress

• Improved sleep

• Lower blood pressure

• A stronger immune system

• An improved ability to identify and regulate emotions

• Higher emotional intelligence

• More positive feelings

• Better connections with others

To find more fulfillment in retirement, make an effort to regularly reflect on the people and things you’re grateful for. Be grateful for small things, such as the sun shining on your face, as well as big things, like the birth of a new grandchild. Taking time to recognize and appreciate the things that bring you joy can lead to a happier and more fulfilling life at any stage in your journey.

Gene Gard, CFA, CFP, CFT-I, is a Partner and Private Wealth Manager with Creative Planning. Creative Planning is one of the nation’s largest Registered Investment Advisory firms providing comprehensive wealth management services to ensure all elements of a client’s financial life are working together, including investments, taxes, estate planning, and risk management. For more information or to request a free, no-obligation consultation, visit CreativePlanning.com.

Categories
Letter From The Editor Opinion

Faith, Hope, and Love

My dad shares sage advice. (Photo: Shara Clark)

I was going to write something sad and ranty in this space, something to the effect of arg! everything is terrible — because, frankly, it feels that way. But I don’t need to detail at length all the horrific stuff going on in the world or how the dollar no longer means much and we’re being bled dry just to eat, put gas in our cars, and have roofs over our heads. I’ll spare you the talk about how our essential workers are — still, and maybe even more than ever — overworked and underpaid, and how our bodies and livelihoods will soon be (more) at the mercy of politicians and corporations while the rich get richer and the rest of us scrape by and hope that we can access affordable healthcare and homes and have the freedom to choose what’s best for ourselves. Things just feel a little … precarious. But we won’t talk about that.

I recently went to visit family down South in my hometown of Greenwood, Mississippi. My pawpaw Clark was set to have surgery the following week, and such procedures are trickier on the elderly. I’d hoped to watch Dirty Dancing — the original with Patrick Swayze, of course — with my granny Clark (it’s our favorite movie), but she wasn’t feeling up to it. We instead spent time chatting and catching up. Things are much quieter there, simpler, slowed-down. Not that crime and drugs and inflation and rising rent and home prices haven’t touched the small community. The place isn’t what you’d call idyllic, to be sure, but there’s a big difference between meandering through a country town inhabited by fewer than 14,000 people and traversing the daily grind in a sometimes rough, always-on city like Memphis.

I spent a couple nights with my dad and brother while I was there. My brother is a wheelchair-bound 32-year-old with severe cerebral palsy. My dad takes care of him — baths, diapers, feeding, outings, entertaining and supporting in the best ways he can. Their address is on one of the “county roads” on the outskirts of town. My dad built (literally) the house he lives in, on my pawpaw’s land. It’s not your typical house. To me, it always looked like maybe it was supposed to have been a big garage or shop at first, but became an actual living space with a kitchen and bathroom and bedrooms. It has concrete floors and is filled with antiques and road finds — a real hodgepodge — and the yard looks a bit like Sanford & Son Salvage. My dad can’t work much these days since he cares for my brother with only a few hours of outside help from the “sitters” (they’re nurses).

One afternoon, my dad and I climbed into a beat-up ATV, and he drove us over to a nearby creek. I held onto the “oh shit” bar while he zoomed up the gravel road and down the side of a little-too-vertical (for me) levee. Unafraid, that man. No reservations. In his already muddy boots, he walked right through the water, in places up to his knees, as I, unprepared, maneuvered the muck in my city shoes. We talked about the state of things, how I sometimes have trouble navigating days, especially since the pandemic basically dismantled everything we thought we knew. In the wake of all that was flipped upside down, some of the pieces no longer fit. Whatever normal was, it isn’t that anymore. So many things seem … broken. He talked about prayer and gratitude, and I said I might give the former a try.

There’s peace to be found there somewhere. Not specifically in that creek or the Delta town itself, but in that state of mind. Live gently and simply and without fear, love the life you have, give thanks.

I know I said I wasn’t going to write something sad in this space, but I’m known to be overly sentimental. My pawpaw ended up canceling his aneurysm surgery. He’s not one to slow down much and has decided, it seems, he’d rather go on his own terms — while feeding his dog out at the hunting camp or hamming it up with folks at the grocery store — than risk losing his life or mobility on a surgeon’s table. In the weeks since our visit, my granny received a tragic diagnosis — cancer in her lungs and liver — and was put on hospice. It doesn’t look like we’ll get in another viewing of Dirty Dancing. But I’m grateful for the many times we watched it together, and for all the precious memories with my Clark grandparents; for my brother and dad and what they’ve taught me through positivity, perseverance, and the wisdom that only comes from living in the present, not clouded by material wants or looking too far beyond the scope of what we can control.

Just faith, hope, and love.

Categories
Opinion The Last Word

To Those Who Can’t Stay Home

CREDIT: Courtney Hedger | Unsplash

As I write this from my couch, nearly a year into working from home due to the pandemic, I am experiencing both burnout and gratitude.

On the one hand, working from the confines of my 750-square-foot rental home, I feel — quite literally — boxed in. The days bleed together as I change from one pair of pajamas to another, staring at a laptop, eyes glazed over, with little actual human interaction or external stimuli. Digital documents, emails, Slack exchanges — everything and everyone has morphed into nothing more than words on a screen. If it weren’t for deadlines and production days and the physical calendar on the kitchen wall where I scrawl notes and reminders, I’d likely lose track of which day was which all together. And I’ll admit that I have on more than one occasion in recent weeks.

Courtney Hedger | Unsplash

Outings are minimal. Necessary items can be ordered online for delivery or pickup. Like clockwork, the mailman arrives, my dogs bark loudly to alert of his presence, and the [insert whatever random thing was purchased] is here without me having to get into my car or brush my hair or speak to another person. The only traffic jams I’ve experienced in a year are the pile-ups that often happen in the small hallway where my three dachshunds scurry under foot to race to their food bowls at breakfast and dinner. They help me keep track of the hours with their internal clocks. But what day is it again? When did I last shower? What’s the point?

It starts to feel a little doom-and-gloom when you realize how the days bend into one another, especially in winter. Those neighborhood walks I so enjoyed in warmer weather apparently kept me sane, or at least somewhat content. The sunshine, the sights and sounds … Now it’s gray and wet and cold, and when will it be spring again? What month is it?

Now on to the gratitude. I am hyper-aware of how privileged I am to have had the opportunity to navigate these hazy, dazed work-from-home days, within the virus-free walls of my tiny house. So many — including the delivery drivers who’ve kept our pantries stocked, our gifts en route to their recipients, our non-essential purchases on our porches — have known no such luxury. So many — including my sister, a single mother of two who is working her way toward an assistant manager position at a local grocery store — can not simply stay home and have the world come to them. The kids must go to school or daycare. Bills must be paid, gas in the car, food on the table. The show must go on, the slog continues, and those who have kept the gears in motion on the outside have had to live their lives the same as they did pre-pandemic. Except while wearing masks eight hours a day. Except while potentially exposing themselves to a deadly virus. There’s an entire segment of our population that does not have a choice.

I want to take a moment to salute every single essential worker. From restaurants to retail, from healthcare to warehouse workers — we see you. I hope with every fiber of my being that each of you stays healthy while you’re out there risking your lives for our Amazon orders and cheeseburgers. I hope that you do not take the virus home to an immune-compromised family member or loved one. I hope that while you’re out there making sure the ships still sail that the people you encounter are showing gratitude and respect. You deserve more recognition than I can give you. The world as we know it could — and likely would — collapse if not for your continued efforts. And I know those efforts are made out of necessity. Thank you for keeping the shelves stocked, preparing food for us, caring for the sick, and delivering whatever it is we think we need while we’re stuck at home.

As I write this, it’s a Thursday afternoon. I’m in a robe and houseshoes. My dogs are piled up around me napping. I am safe. I am healthy. I am grateful.

Shara Clark is managing editor of the Flyer.