Little Pink Paper Hearts

Sometimes it's the simple endeavors we make on Valentine's Day that count the most. Creative gestures that we may think silly can often speak volumes to another and generate lasting memories of kindness and care.

 As children, we all remember passing out Valentine’s Day cards at school. Usually, they were the homemade kind crafted from construction paper and were glued to various sizes of lace doilies. We’ve come a long way from the elementary ways of expressing affection or love, but our hearts haven’t changed. Many of us still carry the influence of youth under our adult veneer and relish being remembered.

 This Valentine's Day I decided I would do Valentine’s Day acts of kindness. Along with creating special Valentine's Day cards on my compute to send to my family, I also made little pink paper hearts to hand out strangers and friends with uplifting sentiments written on the front.

            

Valentine’s Day is all about love, cupids, hearts, flowers, candy and cards. I’ve read that over one billion of them are exchanged each year. Also, that eighty percent of Valentine’s Day cards are purchased for relatives. And, that Hallmark has over 1,300 different cards designed specifically for Valentine’s Day.

 Along with the cards sent and received, we know romantic dinners will be enjoyed in restaurants and flowers will be delivered from florists this Valentine’s Day. That might make you think that lovers receive the most cards. I've read that isn't the case. Teachers receive the most cards followed by children, mothers, wives, and then sweethearts.

There are so many ways to extend love and bring a smile to a face.  My sister, Leslie’s birthday is on Valentine’s Day. It brought me great joy when I dropped the special birthday Valentine’s Day I created for her into the mail box. Feeling happy about the card and mailing it even brought a smile to my face.

With all the revenue companies receive from the commercialization of Valentine’s Day, it’s the heartfelt gifts that speak to my heart the most. Mine sit in my box of treasures. They are the ones from my children. I can still envision their little faces with a shy smile and arms outstretched with their gift so earnestly made from nimble fingers yet presented with such pride. 

Maybe my inspiration for passing out little pink paper hearts comes from my own children’s affection and admiration. I kind of think there is a connection. As a matter of fact, I am sure of it!

   

I hope you will share my blog with your friends and come back and visit to see what’s new.

Wednesday, February 19, Jennifer Botkin Phillips, will be speaking at "Young at Heart" senior luncheon at Montvale Evangelical Free Church, 141 West Grand Ave., Montvale, NJ 07645. 
For reservations call Karen at 201.391.6233. A $6 donation is suggested.  Topic: "Life on the edge including a kidney transplant".

Fling wide the gates

Now, I can say that my goal of writing a January 2014 blog post is accomplished! True, I barely made it, but perseverance has paid off! Perhaps, this is perfect timing now that I’ve settled in after a month in Montana with my family. And, now that I’ve had time for reflection on all that transpired in 2013 when my life dramatically changed.

It is nearly six months since my kidney transplant. What I’m keenly aware of is that due to the generosity of my living donor, Dot Elwood, I’ve been given a second chance at life. Each and every day I’m filled with thankfulness for the gift of life and what that means to me. Thanks to Dot, I’ve been spared the weekly treatments of dialysis and the challenges it presents.

With my transplant behind me, I now wonder what the days ahead will hold for me. What imprint will I make in 2014? Will my life be one of significance? Will I accomplish my goals and realize my dreams? The joy of living that’s bubbling within makes me want to shout, “Fling wide the gates!”

Maybe you too have crossed over a chasm and doors are opening for new adventures and opportunities. Second chances are a time of celebration!

Yesterday, at a follow-up appointment with my nephrologist (kidney doctor), at NewYork-Presbyterian/Columbia University Medical Center, she totally surprised me. Along with her discussing my lab work and side effects from my anti-rejections drugs, I shared that I’m on the verge of realizing a lifelong dream. I found myself holding my breath while waiting for her response.

 “Go for it!” She said with an affirming smile. That was all I needed to hear. She continued, “That’s why we do transplants, so that you can go live your life!” Before I knew it I was out of my chair and hugging her enthusiastically!       

What I heard in her reply was an endorsement for, “Fling wide the gates!” With my new kidney humming along and my recovery in back of me the sky is the limit!

I’m a sixty-eight year divorced woman, mother, a grandmother, a sister, aunt and friend, who has a new lease on life. I don’t know what my future holds, but I pray for courage to step beyond the familiar and find out.

In the book of John we read, “I have come that you might have life and have it abundantly.” Do I really believe that? Do you really believe that? You and I have the opportunity to trust God that He will fulfill His promises.

 “Fling wide the gates!” I’m ready to embrace each new day and see how 2014 unfolds. What about you?

Hello everyone! It’s been four months since my last post. Since then, I’ve had a kidney transplant, started taking numerous medications, had a ureteral stent removed (the stent aids the integrity of the transplant), had a few minor complications (now resolved) and more recently, flew across the country for my 50th class reunion. Going to the land of my roots and reconnecting with classmates, friends and family, has given me a new lease on life. But, my transformation literally began August 14th, the day of my kidney transplant and receiving the Gift of Life.

If you read my previous post (July 29), then you know that God blessed me with a living kidney donor. The day I received the phone call that my potential donor was a match, was the day I felt like the gates of heaven had opened for me. All the years of waiting for my kidneys to fail and worrying what the future held came to an abrupt stop with that one phone call.

For over thirty years I’d lived with a time bomb. I followed my doctor’s orders and did everything I could to prolong the function of my kidneys, yet I never knew when my disease would get the better of me. The relief and gratitude that washed over me from knowing that I had a living donor, was overwhelming. I cried and laughed and called my daughters and family who rejoiced with me and called my best friend. I even jumped up and down with whoops of joy when I heard the good news!

On the day of my surgery at Columbia New York Presbyterian Hospital in New York City, Dot Elwood, my living donor, and I were to be at the hospital at 11 AM to check in. My entourage consisted of Lesa Maher, my daughter, and JoAnn Bowen, my cousin. When we arrived at 10:30 AM that morning, Dot and her family were already there. I think we were both a little anxious and wanted to make sure we were on time. As it turned out, we had time to spare because we didn’t go into surgery until 7 pm that evening!

As it happened, there were two unplanned transplants before ours. Both were for people on a kidney transplant waiting list who had received the call that a match had been found from a deceased donor. When you are on a transplant waiting list and that call comes, you have a short window of time before the transplant has to take place. In that event, since our case was a living donor transplant and therefore the surgery date could be planned, Dot and I had to wait for those transplants to be completed before they could take us into surgery.

We didn’t mind the wait. Someone’s life was being saved. We were NPO so we couldn’t eat or drink but we could talk! Thus, our respective families mingled and got to know each other. Dot and I prayed together, our families prayed together and the family pastor from our church came to the hospital and prayed with all of us. Dot and I were confident we would come through our surgeries just fine, especially with all the prayer support that even extended far beyond the hospital walls. Family members and people from around the country including Brazil and Canada were holding us up in prayer. We were convinced that God has his hand on each of us and that his name would be glorified. We didn’t know how; we just believed that good would come from our story.

Later when I was talking with a lady also waiting for surgery, she commented that she’d observed the prayers going on amongst us and that she thought that it was really nice. Her husband was her soul support in a waiting room full of strangers.

“I’ll be praying for you for your surgery,” I said as we parted and I rejoined Lesa and the others.
Finally, at 7 PM that evening, Dot and my names were called.

The moment had arrived. We each were whisked off with our families to our own private area secluded by drapes to be prepared for surgery. Another hour or so went by and then it was time.

We donned our designer caps that matched our designer hospital gowns and said our good-byes to our families. We then turned to each other and hugged tightly. Our eyes were a little damp as we parted not knowing our fate once we stepped beyond the surgery doors. All we knew for sure was that we were in God’s hands and that’s what counted.

Lesa tells me that around 1 AM, she and my cousin got to come in and see me in the recovery room for just a few minutes, but I don’t remember. What I do remember is that when I woke up in my hospital room the next morning, the first thing I wanted to know was about Dot. Was she ok? The second thing I wanted to know was if my new kidney was working? Dot, I learned, was doing fine and my new kidney was working like a charm! Once that pronouncement was made, I went right back to sleep.

Since my surgery and recovery, life has continued to improve. It’s changed but the changes are ones I can live with. They include having to take anti-rejection pills for the rest of my life, watching what I eat (no sushi or rare meat or grapefruit or pomegranate juice or smorgasbords’), frequent hand washing, carrying hand sanitizer, and avoiding people with colds or the flu. Compared with the alternative of dialysis three times a week, I’m managing.

With my transplant behind me and the future unfolding, I plan to write blog posts more frequently. Please come back and check often as a new look is in the works.

Kidney kibitzing

When I was thirty-two years old, the doctor diagnosed me with polycystic kidney disease (PKD). I had three daughters; an eight year old, a seven year old, and a one year old. My husband was a hardy and healthy line backer looking kind of guy. I was a busy mom dealing with intermittent pain. It was the pain and a host of other maladies plaguing me that prompted my making an appointment with a physician.

Thirty-six years ago, after my exam, and after reviewing my records, my doctor came back into the room. His perfectly pressed lab coat added to his professional demeanor. I was stunned by the declaration he delivered. He said that my kidneys wouldn’t fail until I was in my sixth or seventh decade of life. As a young mother, even my fifth decade sounded eons away let alone turning 60 or 70 years of age. “That’s really old”, I thought. Besides, who thinks about organ failure when you are in the prime of your life?

At least, I learned that my genetic, hereditary and potentially debilitating disease with no cure was a slow progressing disease. I was told that it could eventually lead to kidney failure. Dealing with failing kidneys seemed far into the future.
It seems my original diagnosis was right on the mark. That “distant future” has arrived and my kidney transplant date has been set. Whether I’m ready for this new adventure (and you know how I love adventure) or not my life is going to change. I will be the recipient of a pre-emptive living donor kidney transplant (bypassing dialysis) at New York Presbyterian Hospital August 14.

Knowing that my name is now on the surgery schedule changes everything. Before Brian (my kidney transplant coordinator), called to give me the date, I was somewhat removed from my own reality. It was as if I were in the audience and watching someone else go through all the steps leading to transplant; finding a transplant center, learning of my candidacy, the day long evaluation with a dozen vials of blood drawn followed by doctors appointments. Then came abdominal scans, EKG’s, consultations, a mammogram, a bone density scan, colonoscopy, dental clearance, and a PPD, (Mantoux Tuberculin Skin Test), all of which are part of the weeks long transplant evaluation process.

Two years ago I was placed on the United Network for Organ Sharing transplant list. One year later, I was blessed with a match. An amazing woman from my church heard about my story and felt led by God to find out if she was a match. She was. And now, ten months later, we will each lay on a gurney in hospital rooms next to each other where she will donate a kidney thus giving me the Gift of Life. I stand amazed!

I have lived for over half my life knowing that one day my kidneys might fail. That day has come yet this entire process has been a journey of growth and discovery. At times I’ve cried out to God, “Why did I have to be born with PKD? Why couldn’t I just be normal?” I’ve wished for a healthy body to do all the things I’m passionate about. I’ve wished to be pain free. I’ve wished I didn’t have to deal with limitations and could be free from struggling up the subway stairs in New York City. I’ve wished not to have the body distortion of a swollen abdomen from kidneys that can grow to the size of footballs. I’ve wished not to suffer emotionally and physically from dealing with chronic disease that causes my family worry. I’ve wished to not have to explain to a potential suitor that I have a life threatening illness and does he really want to get involved?

But, my greatest life-long wish has always been to be a blessing to others. That through my setbacks and weakness, even in my illness, that God would make me strong and brave. That He would build my character and make me a beacon of hope for others facing chronic disease, or just plain life. If I could be an instrument in helping another believe that life is really worth living, I’d be tickled pink!

Thanks for reading my blog. I hope that you will revisit it during these next few weeks and follow my kidney transplant journey. Please feel free to share my link. You may check my Facebook homepage for updates. Family and friends will mostly do the posting at least in the beginning.

Luck vs. blessing

During the early days of my marriage, my husband, Nick, used to say that I made everything harder than it was. Whether I was managing the household, getting ready to go somewhere, or even making dinner, he made his view known.

At the time, I was defensive and positive that he was wrong. But, now, over thirty years later, I sometimes hear his voice, “You’re making life harder than it is, Jen”. Perhaps Nick’s perception was spot on and, I’m still making life more complicated than need be.

But, the voice in me, my truth, is shouting, “Life is hard” just as Scott Peck wrote in, The Road Less Traveled. That’s my reality. I deal with two life-threatening, genetic diseases and am facing a kidney transplant. My days involve managing multiple doctors’ appointments, keeping track of medical records, lab reports, tests results and x-rays, and trying to locate my list of who to notify when the surgery date is set. And, I am trying to keep it together while dealing with the effects of chronic kidney disease, some of which include anemia, bone disease and fatigue, and still carve out a purposeful life.

Your own reality may be different than mine but you may be still juggling life, holding down a job, and caring for a family. Or, your stage of life may be like mine; in the over sixty-five category and facing health issues. You may be caring for an aging parent or a spouse who has medical/physical issues, or helping out with grandchildren. I’m not exactly sure who is living the “Golden Years” I’ve heard about, but it’s not me or anyone I know.

Life has taught me that few people escape trials. Everyone seems to be dealing with some sort of challenge to their equilibrium. We wouldn’t grow and come to realize that the richness we can gain from our experiences, even though they may not be ones we would have chosen, can contribute to our passion. They make us unique. They show us what we’re made of and sometimes, we’re even surprised to find we’re stronger than we thought. Even through tragedy people have discovered their purpose in life and champion a cause for good.

My life hasn’t turned out at all the way I envisioned. I would rather be perfectly healthy and been spared some of my trials and tribulations. But, God had another plan. And, now, blessing of blessings, He’s answered my prayer and the prayers of my family for a living kidney donor! Some would say I’m lucky. I would say I’m blessed beyond measure.

Life has also taught me about the resilience of the human spirit. God has taught me about love.

What about you? Is luck with you or is a force beyond just good fortune at work in your life that’s ended up becoming a blessing beyond measure?

I would love to hear from you!

Jennifer

October 22 - Upcoming Class Ridgewood Community School

Tuesday, October 22, 7-9 pm, at the BFMS (Benjamin Franklin Middle School) 335 N. Van Dien Avenue, Ridgewood, NJ, I will be teaching, "Speaking UP - How to Revolutionize Your Life". It's my most popular class. If you know of someone, perhaps yourself, or a friend who might benefit from this dynamic and potentially life changing event, sign up today! There are 5 ways to register: Phone Ridgewood Community School (201)670-2777; Walk In: 49 Cottage Place, 2nd Floor Lobby; Mail: 49 cottage Place, Ridgewood, NJ 07451; Fax: (201) 444-5565 or Online: https://register.communitypass.net.

Class description:
If you are ready to embark on an adventure that can change your life through words and actions, then this class is for you. Speaking up and finding your voice can pave the way to a new found freedom in self-expression that sets you apart as a star. Are you sometimes just a bit too nice or too agreeable? Come and find out how to use your pleasant nature to your advantage without jeopardizing your relationships. This class will teach you how to put away doormat thinking and pull out a platform that will command respect and increase confidence on a daily basis. Combining these winning ways can transform your relationships and open up new opportunities to expand your horizons personally and professionally. Topics include: how to be true to yourself, how to say no without fear, the six steps for speaking up for yourself, and the seven benefits of speaking up. It will leave you with eight words that can change the course of your life.

The power of a primrose plant

Upon entering the supermarket the primrose plant display caught my eye. I began maneuvering my cart in the direction of the parade of primroses on the display table. The flashes of color popping out from the rosette of leaves on each plant gave me a warm feeling as I placed a primrose plant in my cart. Spring is on its way.

I discovered from reading the Merriam-Webster dictionary on my iPad that the word “springtime” was first used in the 15th century. The very word springtime conjures up in my mind gaiety and color and freshness and newness and rebirth. After the long days of winter it’s an eagerly awaited season.

With warmer days ahead and the pastel colors that will soon grace our gardens brightening our spirits, I could feel the excitement within swelling. Celebration was in order!

It was a perfect near spring like morning when I picked up my friend, Carol. We were heading to Starbucks in Old Tappan for a friendship chat. After we were nearly talked out we then decided to stop at Bonnabel Nature Park for a pre-spring walk. When we met earlier that morning, the sun was out and the weather was moderate. But, by the time we arrived at the park the sky wasn’t as bright nor was the sun as warm. Still, we were rip-roaring ready to tramp along the trail and get in a walk in the woods.

We set out along the path hopeful for a sign of spring. But, there wasn’t a sprig of green anywhere. Nary had a bird chirped nor were there any other sounds of life from the forest. But, that didn’t stop us because as sure as the sun rises and sets each day, spring is coming.

I had the proof. The bright yellow flowers on the solitary primrose plant I’d purchased setting on my coffee table greeted me each morning. The burst of color reminded me that hope lay ahead. That the season of renewal, regeneration, and restoration was nearly upon us and that we’d soon be flourishing.

Oh, yes, there is power even in a solitary primrose plant.

Valentine's Day 2013 Feel the love; give it away

Valentine's Day 2013 will be warming my heart for a long time to come. What started out as another ordinary day evolved into an assemblage of adventure.

My first adventure was getting myself to the bus stop on time for an early bus to New York City. I had an appointment for a stress test at 10 AM. Once I'd arrived at Port Authority my next leg involved getting myself to the A Train during the morning scramble. After boarding the subway and successfully getting off at the right stop, Columbus Circle, I headed to my destination on 59th Street across from St. Luke's-Roosevelt Hospital. Hopping on a treadmill that that keeps going faster only compounded the stress I was already feeling, but let's just say I survived the test and was immensely relieved when it was finished!

Walking out of the medical building after my test, I was met by the exuberance of the day. After a blizzard dropped about a foot and a half of snow over the weekend, the bright sun overhead, accompanied by milder temperatures, was a welcome sign.

My stress test instructions were to hold the coffee, so my first stop was Starbucks for a tall Tazo Chai Tea Latte with soy milk. With tea in hand, I then headed back up 58th Street towards Columbus Circle. My destination was Central Park. Along the way men kept whisking past me with bouquets in hand, or a potted plant or a single rose. Valentine's Day was in the air!

Upon exiting the bus several hours earlier I'd turned back to the bus driver and with a big smile said, "Happy Valentine's Day"! I didn't hear his reply as the people in back of me were hurrying me along but a lady standing next to me told me his response. I learned that I was the first to give him a Valentine's Day greeting.

I think that's when the tone for my day was set. Since I was feeling the love that encircled me I wanted to extend the vibes. Making another's Valentine's Day brighter was my blueprint for the day, and I was going to do whatever I could to spread smiles.

Ambling through Central Park I extended a smile to everyone passing. That included the driver in the horse carriages, joggers, mothers pushing children in strollers, an elderly couple sauntering along, couples in love, and even the couple from Italy who asked me where Strawberry Fields was.

While I was enjoying myself on the pathways in the park, I received a text from a friend who invited me out to dinner this evening. She was recently widowed and being without a significant other myself it seemed like a delightful idea so I accepted.

This Valentine’s Day with its assemblage of adventure definitely helped me feel the love to overflowing so that I could give it away.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Happy New Year!

It’s 2013! I’m excited to have a new slate upon which to write a new story. With God’s help and guidance I believe it’s going to be the best year of my life.

I rounded out 2012 by spending it with my family in Livingston, Montana and ringing in 2013 under the Big Sky. The landscape in Montana is mighty different from the landscape in the Northeast.

This New Year’s Day I drove down to the lagoon at Sacajawea Park as the sun was setting. While standing by the statue, “At the Yellowstone,” named so because that is where the Corps rested and watered their horses after crossing through the Bridger Mountains earlier that day (July 15, 1806), I was awe-struck while pondering the reality of life over two hundred years ago. Sacajawea is the Shoshone young woman who joined the Lewis and Clark expedition.

Montana is very cold in the winter. Most of time I’m indoors but still dressed in layers of winter garments. I’m never very far from the heater. For trips outside in frigid conditions I’ve got on a hat, a wool scarf, my Land’s End Buckskin gloves and usually, my daughter’s Bog’s boots (warm, waterproof and comfortable).

I can only imagine how cold it was for the travelers on the Lewis and Clark expedition. It reminds me how brave Sacajawea must have been to travel by horseback with the band of soldiers and the warmth of a campfire at night.

One way I can honor Sacajawea and other’s before us who braved hurdles and challenges that led to a better life is to step out of my comfort zone.

After leaving the lagoon at Sacajawea Park I drove up the road a smidge, parked, and got out and walked alongside the Yellowstone River. In the silence with only the sound of the rushing waters lapping over rocks and flowing downstream, I let the experience fill me. Breathing in deeply even in twenty-five degree weather was invigorating. I then exhaled and let go of my cares.

As I walked back to the warmth of my daughter Nicole’s Jeep that I was driving, I felt encouraged. As I begin writing a new story on my empty slate all will surely not be peaches and cream. But whatever 2013 drops into my lap I know that God will grant me what I need to brave the hurdles and challenges.

Happy New Year! May it be your best year yet too!

Holiday happenings in Montana

Eight months have passed since my last visit to Montana. Usually my visits are closer together, but this year I’ve been evaluated for a kidney transplant. Doctor’s visits and tests during the evaluation process interrupted life’s flow and put any travel plans I wanted to make on hold.

At my last doctor’s visit with my nephrologist I learned my kidney function had slightly improved and I didn’t need my transplant in December, as had been discussed. I was elated. That meant I had a window of opportunity to book a flight to the Treasure State for Christmas with my family!

So, December 14, I flew out of Newark, New Jersey to Big Sky country. My daughter, Nicole, and four-year-old grandson, Finn, came to pick me up in Billings. They arrived shortly after my plane landed meeting me in the baggage area. I was facing the luggage carousel when Finn came bounding up to me with his auntie following. Leaping into my open arms he gave the most endearing and enthusiastic greeting “Grandma” I’d ever heard melting my heart on the spot. The hug that followed instantly erased the months of waiting I’d agonized over at not being able to visit my family.

It’s now several days since my arrival, and I am sitting in a comfy chair next to the wood stove at my daughter Lesa’s house, writing this blog. I’ve been sleeping out in “the cottage” at the back of the property across from the chicken coop. As dawn breaks two plump hens softly cackle outside my window. Sometimes, Finn comes out to tell me, “Grandma, time to get up”. I don’t know when I’ve been so happy!
Each morning on the way into the house for my morning coffee, I open the hen house door to gather the eggs. I’d not had that experience since I was a young girl staying overnight with my great-grandmother, Flora May Swofford. It was as fun in 2012 gathering eggs as it was in 1955.

Being a grandmother has got to be the most wonderful experience in the world. Every grandmother is keenly familiar with the unbridled joy and thrill of watching grandchildren grow. And, of the incredible manner these little tykes have of communicating what’s on their minds. People told me how great it is being a grandparent but one can’t really comprehend the mystery and magic until they are one themselves.

And now, as I’ve settled in for the duration of my visit with my daughters and family I’m savoring each day and each interaction with Finn, the little guy, and his big brothers who afford me blessings of their own.

I find life truly exciting at this stage in my life. Everything becomes an adventure. This trip has even been one of further discovery as I’ve learned more about myself and my family. Christmas morning will surely bring further blessings as we celebrate the gift the birth of Christ brings!

A phone call of hope

A phone call that I missed this morning got my attention. On my iPhone dial I saw that it came from area code 212, New York City. I recognized the number as coming from Columbia New York Presbyterian Hospital University Medical Center. The phone call could only mean one thing. The results were back. The type and cross match that is done to find out if a potential organ donor is an actual match was completed. I would soon learn if my potential organ donor is a match for me to get a kidney transplant.

My story began thirty-five years ago when I was diagnosed with polycystic kidney disease, PKD for short. PKD is one of the most common life-threatening genetic diseases that eventually destroy healthy kidney tissue. There is no cure. The only hope of survival is dialysis or transplantation. My journey to transplantation began exactly one year ago when I was placed on the United Network for Organ Sharing (UNOS) waiting list.

Eager to know the type and cross match results, I returned the call to Columbia only to reach an answering machine. I left a message. It turned out to be several hours after the first call came that I actually learned the result of the type and cross match. While waiting, I was busy baking snickerdoodle cookies for a friend who was bitten by a dog. Since everybody knows cookies are a version of first aid, I wanted to take over some freshly baked cookies and a box of tea to cheer her spirits.

My Aunt B. always says to me, “Keeping singing, Jen.” So, I started singing while baking the cookies to help take my mind off the urgency simmering in my stomach.

A short time after I took the cookies out of the oven, I tried Columbia again and this time was connected with my transplant coordinator. The long awaited moment was at hand. I was sitting on the edge of my chair, pen in hand and paper in front of me ready to write down the results.

“Your donor is a match”, I heard my transplant coordinator say.

My phone call of hope had come! The transplantation process would continue and a kidney transplant would be scheduled at my donor’s convenience. My mind was whirling as I listened and scribbled the next steps I had to take. After we hung up I could hardly concentrate. I began calling family and friends who had been praying for me to find a living donor. My family couldn’t believe it happened so soon and were overjoyed from my good news. They were astonished by the way everything had fallen into place exactly one year to the day of being placed on the waiting list.

I was overwhelmed with gratitude to think that someone was even willing to be tested regardless of the outcome. It’s going to take some time to process how the donor will change my life and mine will change hers. But, I’m going to take it one day at a time. Today, I’m celebrating the good news about getting a preemptive (bypassing dialysis) living donor kidney transplant.

My mother used to tell me that my blessings weren’t from “luck” but from God’s hand upon me. Mom passed on a few years ago but I think she was right. It’s not really luck at all; it’s the faithful prayers of my family and friends who have stood with me claiming God’s promise to care for me. Today, he showed His faithfulness and love and care through a phone call of hope!

Until next time, Jennifer

I hope you will come back and visit my blog again and share it with your family and friends.

Celebrating your value

This afternoon after parking my Jeep to go into our local farmer’s market, a tall grandmotherly looking lady crossed the walkway in front of me. I was slightly taken aback from the sight of her. My eyebrows darted up and my jaw dropped as I focused in on the paraphernalia on her head. A pink, rubber curler with a band that clasped at the end to secure it was dangling right smack at the top of her forehead where you might typically see bangs.

Even more surprising was that the smartly dressed lady pushing her grocery cart seemed oblivious to the curler in her hair. She appeared caught up in her thoughts and her demeanor was of a woman on a mission.

It reminded me how vain I have been at times. I’ve been so caught up with my appearance that there were times in my life leaving the house without my lipstick on wasn’t an option. Even the simple chore of taking out the garbage required hair fixed and make-up applied.

Silly, isn’t it? Who we are doesn’t change because of external factors.

Ironically, a few months ago I completely surprised myself by driving to Newark International Airport without a stitch of make-up on and without my hair perfectly coifed. A very dear friend who’d I’d not seen in seven years was arriving on a late flight. Therefore, I decided the sensible thing to do was shower, wash my hair, and cleanse and cream my face before leaving for the airport. That I could even do that revealed I’d come a long way in my journey of life from exercising vanity to knowing my value. It was the latter that gave me the confidence to not worry what people thought or how I might appear. I intrinsically knew that my friend loved me and accepted me whether my lipstick and blush were painted on my face or not.

The funny thing is, when Cheryl and I became friends forty-two years ago she had long dark hair that she wore in a braid down her back, and I had long reddish brown hair. When her plane landed I had drifted back in time with my thoughts to the good ole days and was almost expecting to see that person I remembered from long ago with the dark hair. She was almost expecting to see a redhead. We both almost missed recognizing each other. In reality, Cheryl’s hair today is short and curly, and is a beautiful shade of silver white. And, I am blond. When we did spot each other and embraced we were laughing at ourselves and crying as a myriad of memories engulfed us from days gone by. It was tearful yet joyful reunion.

Maybe I’m more like that grandmother with the curler on her forehead than I thought. You reach a certain age and what people think just doesn’t matter. Life teaches you to find your courage, walk with grace, and embrace the day with a smile!

Please revisit my blog from time to time and share it with your friends and family.
Until next time, Jennifer

Celebrating autumn

Autumn is here. The days are getting shorter, the weather is crisper and the leaves are falling. What a perfect time to renew my faith and stand in my belief that good things are in store. Spring brings newness of life; autumn brings the harvest of how we’ve lived. The fruit of our labor comes into focus. It’s time for celebration!

Let’s get out the pumpkins, the cinnamon and spices for pie, and let’s light the hearth and gather 'round. Celebration and community give us excuses to flourish within our soul as well as to embrace our moments at hand.

The older I get the more I believe that the best is yet to come. And, it starts with today. Today is the day we have to rejoice, forgive, laugh, embrace, nourish and give. Even though life may be askew, we can still be filled with expectation for what the season will bring forth. Family matters, medical situations, diseases, financial challenges, loss of jobs, broken relationships and other trials affect our lives but we can still anticipate goodness. Blessings are bound to come. When they do, I pray that I won’t be so buried in defeat that I miss them. I pray for eyes to recognize that along with the autumn harvest God has a plan of bounty for me and for you.

Therefore, we can celebrate autumn with abandon and let our joy abound. It’s contagious and I can’t think of a more wonderful way to welcome autumn and this season of harvest! Sometimes, there are even welcome surprises of celebration and blessings.

I hope you will share my blog with your friends and family and revisit soon.
Until next time…Jennifer

Social graces

Sometimes I’m happier when I abstain from watching the news. The senseless murders, the abduction of women and children, car accidents resulting in loved ones’ deaths from distracted drivers and all the other atrocities displayed across the screen, is beyond disheartening. But, the last couple of days I’ve lazily indulged in lingering over my morning coffee in front of the television. Surely, my blood pressure would be lower if I picked up my knitting rather than listen to the dispatching of crimes and meaningless nonsense over the air waves.

For instance, yesterday on ABC’s, The View, Barbara Walters was rebuking Her Majesty the Queen for her ‘sour face’ and dressing ‘like something out of the nineteenth century’ during the opening ceremony for the Olympics. While I didn’t agree with the Queen’s selection of accessories (black gloves, black handbag and black shoes) for her pink dress, I am appalled by Ms. Walters blatant bashing of the Queen’s attire. What in heaven’s name is to be gained from her dreadful diatribe?

My blog readership may be miniscule but it is an forum for self-expression and right now I’m so provoked if I don’t take advantage of this outlet and express myself, I’ll pop!

While Ms. Walters acquiesces that Her Royal Highness has a sense of humor she also criticizes her unsmiling face during the segment of the program when a children’s choir sang ‘God Save the Queen’. Yes, I too would have thoroughly enjoyed seeing the Queen smile approvingly while the children performed but we are not privy to the Queen’s thoughts. Her stoic face may not have accurately reflected her sentiments or what was in her heart. As much as we might insist we are all knowing when it comes to what others are thinking, the truth is, all we can legitimately do is speculate what’s on another’s mind.

The distress I feel over the commentary from Ms. Walter, who I have faithfully watched and admired down through the years, is from her lack of tact and unforgiving manner towards the Queen ensemble. What’s happened to the art of executing eloquence and respectfulness in our conversation whether we are speaking privately or in front of a national audience? My mother taught me that if you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say it at all. Didn’t we all grow up with that adage?

Several years ago I was introduced to the talk radio world as a “social commentator”. Perhaps my job is not done. As long as I can speak and type I pray that I will use my words honorably.

This morning’s indulgence of watching TV has rekindled my passion for keeping good citizenship alive. We have no control over other’s conduct or conversation and while we may feel let down by their behavior, more important is not letting my own self down from my conduct or conversation. Change begins with me. One person can make a difference.

With God’s help and influence, I will continue striving for excellence in my life so that my words and actions are edifying to others.

It’s been a good day. I hope to help make it a better tomorrow by keeping my own social graces intact and above board.

Thank you for visiting my blog. I hope you’ll revisit it from time to time and see what’s new!

My friend, Maxine

Maxine makes me laugh.

You know Maxine… she’s Hallmark’s cartoon character created in 2003 by John Wagner (yes, Maxine’s creator is a man) who speaks up for the older generation. She’s everybody’s favorite Crabbinista. With curly hair and various hats that she wears (I knew we had something in common) she is usually plopped in a chair with her chin resting in the palm of her hand and a besmirched expression on her face peering out from behind dark sunglasses and spouting off about some infraction. Such as, “I tried getting AWAY from it all. Most of it FOLLOWED me.”

But, Maxine speaks up and since my passion is teaching people the principles I’ve learned for speaking up for yourself (though still in process myself) I couldn’t resist referring to her in this blog entry.

Last month I had a birthday and received a small package in the mail from my Aunt B. who lives on the West coast. Aunt B. is known for her thoughtful gifts, so I couldn’t wait to open her present. It was a little book, Maxine Flips Out! Everyone’s Favorite Griper shares her signs for the times. Within moments of reading the quips I was in stitches laughing at Maxine’s practicality punctuated with petulance.

Initially, one might not think of Maxine as being practical. However, “Reach for the STARS! It keeps your CHEST from sagging,” is one of her sayings in the little book from Aunt B. See what I mean. Practicality personified!

At this stage of my life with being evaluated at Columbia University Medical Center for a possible kidney liver transplant and driving in weekly for patient education meetings, and doctor’s appointments for this and that test, I need to laugh. Often and out loud and with good belly laughs.

I've been taking my friend, Maxine, with me into New York City and is helping me to do just that.
Since I just celebrated a birthday I’ll end this post with one of my favorites, “Age has its ADVANTAGES. Too bad I don’t REMEMBER what they are.”

Please share my blog with your friends and check back again for what’s new! As always, your comments and thoughts are welcome.

Father's Day Tribute

Many memories of my father stem from my childhood. As a little girl, I loved when daddy would ask me if I wanted to go with him in his red pickup. I always did. Being with my father stirred a sense of safety and always made me feel like a princess.


A tall man with dark hair and very handsome, my father was a man who exuded strength and character. Daddy personified the actor, John Wayne, who was the “it” man of the day and was truly a man’s man! When I was growing up he raced an F Racing Runabout boat that required a deck rider to keep the boat from flipping. In 1948 he won the Regional Championship for his boat racing class.


He was also a hunter. Every September he and his hunting buddies flew in a small plane owned by one of the men, to Wyoming or Montana. I remember his telling me after one trip that Wyoming was the least populated state in the Union. He loved that! How could anyone love a state with few people? Now, over a half-century later and living in the densely populated Northeast, I understand. The tranquility of the Grand Tetons and buffalo roaming across the meadows spoke to his soul.


It’s been forty-two years since I’ve had my father to celebrate Father’s Day. In 1970 daddy died from heart disease at the young age of forty-nine. I was a young mother with a husband, an infant daughter and pregnant. I remember feeling I was way too young to lose my father. My mother was only forty-six years of age when she was widowed.


In those twenty-five years of knowing my father he evoked a range of emotions from our family dynamic. Life wasn’t perfect but still, it seems to be every girl’s dream to be the apple of her daddy’s eye. I was no different. I wanted his love, his approval, his affirmation, his support, his wisdom and his arms around me telling me everything would be okay.


I am blessed with many wonderful memories of picnics at the boat races, trips to Sequoia National Park, summers at the beach in Cayucos with the roiling waves of the Pacific Ocean lapping at the shore, trips to Disneyland, riding in the back of daddy’s pickup with my brother, Hugh, and helping daddy pick out yet another new blue bathrobe for mom’s birthday with my sister, Lezlie.


But, the banner day of memories was my wedding when my father walked me down the aisle. I’d never seen him look so proud; so handsome.


Thank you, daddy, for contributing a boatload of memories that fill my heart to this day.

Hope for today

It's been a long while since I last wrote a blog entry but I'm happy to report I'm back. This afternoon I attended a seminar at my local library on blogging. This entry is the result of leaving the workshop not only inspired but determined to write a blog post before the day ends.


Once back at my apartment I immediately kicked off my sandals and sat down in my comfy desk chair. Ignoring the stack of papers in front of me that need clearing I began pecking away on my keyboard.


Sometimes life throws us a curve ball that upsets our equilibrium. We flounder and become befuddled by our reality and everything takes a back seat while we seek to regain our rhythm. In that process our creative passion and other means of self-expression can get lost in the shuffle. Over these past eight months that's what has happened to me. A curve ball has been thrown my way that been bogged me down and raised questions about my quality of life for the future.


Last fall I was placed on a kidney transplant list and have been dealing with monthly blood work and frequent doctor's appointments with a kidney specialist. This past spring, I learned that I may have a liver problem and was referred to a liver specialist. The liver specialist sent me to Columbia University Medical Center in New York City to be evaluated for a kidney/liver transplant.


Dealing with chronic disease has affected my energy level and raised questions like how am I going to accomplish my dreams with all this kidney liver transplant business going on? I'd just as soon forget the whole thing! But, being foolish never did us any good, so I will forge on and face my reality but not let my circumstances define me. I am so much more than my circumstances and God is so much bigger!


I hope that you perhaps will pick back up a project or passion that you may have dropped due to a detour. It's never too late to fulfill God's destiny for our lives no matter what curve ball gets thrown our way.
And, in the meantime, please do drop in again for new postings, happenings, book reviews, and other serendipitous matters. You can find my column, Top Blonde…on the run! at www.northjersey.com/pascackvalley under “columnist” Jennifer Botkin Phillips




"There is no medicine like hope, no incentive so great, and no tonic so powerful as expectation of something better tomorrow." Orison Sweet Marden

Speaking up with confidence no matter what

Have you ever tried to slither into a pair of jeans? Wrestling with getting a metal zipper to close at my mid-line, while down on the floor, is how I used up about fifteen minutes of my day this morning. Make that twenty-five when all was said and done. Somehow I managed to button the button closure at the top of the zipper. That resulted in an unbecoming protrusion out the opening between the top button and the bottom of the zipper. Getting the zipper to zip up was another story. I’d have to either pull out a tunic top from my closet or wear a long coat to hide my belly. With Indian summer upon us in the Northeast, donning a tunic or long coat wasn’t an option.

Perhaps more creativity is my ticket. So, once again I knelt down and splayed myself face up on the floor. After first wiggling this way and that way, I began lifting my buttocks up and down and then from side to side and then I began flinging my legs straight up in the air. Surely my acrobatic antics would help stretch my NYDJ (Not Your Daughter’s Jeans).

What does this have to do with speaking up for yourself? Let me put it this way.
I don’t know about you but my natural reaction to the challenge of zipping a zipper on a pair of jeans after wearing cropped pants, various styles of shorts, and skirts all summer is one of self-sabotage. Good gracious, I’m so fat; I need to exercise more; why did I have those cookies yesterday or that bowl of ice cream last night; Look at this muffin top; I’m such a sloth, and so on.

But, there is another way. In God’s eyes we are fearfully and wonderfully made and therefore made perfect in Him. It’s good to access our lifestyle and decide if we need to make changes to improve our health. But, if we don’t allow God’s hand in our lives and accept ourselves as His beloved child, the light we reflect, along with our voice, will be dim. You may not set out to make an impact, but people do pay attention and they watch to see if you are who you say you are. Whether we are a daughter, a sister, a friend, a mother, a cousin, a wife, a step-sibling or step-mother, we have an opportunity to brighten another’s day. If we are picking ourselves apart, we lose our influence.

It turns out that laughter was my ticket to getting my zipper zipped. While lying there in the middle of my floor struggling to get that zipper up, my only view was the stark white ceiling. There I was sprawled out like a limp lobster with my tentacles flailing in the attempt to stretch my NYDJ. I wanted every bit of my money’s worth of that 4% spandex I’d read on the label. As I lie there gazing at the ceiling, the absurdity of it all struck me as hilarious and the next thing I knew…I had the giggles. I started laughing unashamedly at my predicament. After the work-out of my abdominal muscles and my non-eloquent cackling subsided, I was breathless. Nevertheless, I tried one last time to pull my zipper up. To my astonishment, success!

I will be doing some accessing of my lifestyle so that the next time I try slipping into my NYDJ, I won’t have to roll around the floor again. In the meantime, I know I can walk out my front door today and speak up with full confidence that, in my weakness, I am made strong! That in God’s eye’s I am acceptable and beautiful just as I am. And, you are too!

Sunflowers influence in speaking up

Have you ever had a defining moment that you didn’t realize you had until later? Yesterday, that was my experience.

While driving to Western New Jersey and the picturesque farmlands of Sussex County to visit a Sunflower Maze, I was thinking about the invitation I’d just received while talking on my hands free cell phone. A longtime girlfriend I’d not seen since returning from vacation three weeks prior, invited me to join her and two other special girlfriends for a movie I’d wanted to see, The Help.

I told her that after going to the Sunflower Maze in Augusta, I was thinking of contacting a male friend who just lived down the road from the maze. But, after walking through the Sunflower Maze and absorbing the warmth and happiness that sunflowers convey, I decided to jump back into my Jeep, Madame Merlot II, and high tale it back to the suburbs and meet my girlfriends for the movie.

You may be asking yourself, “What’s the big deal?” However, for me it was freeing to alter my plan on a dime. It would have been nice to see my male friend, but he may not have been home, or available. I choose to do what I really wanted to do rather than do what I thought I ought. It made no difference to my male friend. At that point he didn’t even know I was in the vicinity. The good news is that I hadn’t called him yet to see if he was around for me to stop by for a visit.

Speaking up for yourself comes in all variations of our relationships. It’s my belief that you know in your heart how you want to handle a matter. Have the courage to speak up and change your life by changing your decision making process to one of honoring your core value.

I’ve read various meanings for the sunflower including loyalty and longevity. Samantha Green, of Pro Flowers writes in her article, History and Meaning of Sunflowers, “They are unique in their ability to provide energy in the form of nourishment and vibrance, an attribute which mirrors the sun and the energy provided by its heat and light”.

Yesterday, the Son shine showering down upon the sunflowers definitely influenced me. I made it in time to meet my friends. Though, The Help, was sold out we got into One Day with Ann Hathaway. We’ll see The Help another day. Over all, I was thankful that the sunflowers influence showed me I must have loyalty…even to myself.

Setbacks Pave the Way for Comebacks

June 2, I gave a presentation, “Setbacks Pave the Way for Comebacks” at the Montvale Library, Montvale, New Jersey. A few attendees asked for the Eight Principles I talked about for overcoming a setback, so I am sharing them with all of you on my blog.

No one is immune to the storms of life that appear suddenly in our lives and threaten to topple us. Setbacks come in all forms and typically cause major stress. These might include the loss of a job or a career, illness or chronic pain and/or a disease that creates cause for altering our life style, the broken promises of a spouse leading to divorce, the death of a loved one or child, or even the realization that we can no longer deny a reality in our lives. All of these scenarios, and a host of other calamities, can cause a setback in our lives of great magnitude and from which some people never recover.

But, I know that setbacks can pave the way for comebacks and that when you come back, you come back stronger. I know this because of my own setbacks and of the victory I embrace today from applying the eight principles you will find at the end of this blog entry.

In 1979, I was a victim of a violent crime. A hooded intruder entered my home, and I was blindfolded and raped at knifepoint while my two-year-old daughter was napping in the next room. My attacker was never caught.

So devastating was the pain and horror of it all that I questioned my faith and my purpose in life. How could a God that I loved and served with all my heart allow such an atrocity and physical assault to one of his followers? All these years later, I still suffer the symptoms of post traumatic stress disorder.

When I was attacked I had already been diagnosed with a genetic, life threatening, potentially debilitating, and chronic kidney disease, PKD (polycystic kidney disease). This is a disease that has affected several family members as well. Two years after my attack, I learned that I had another genetic and life-threatening, chronic disease. This time, a heart muscle disease called HCM (hypertrophic cardiomyopathy). Neither have a cure.

And now, thirty-two years later, my kidney function has decreased to where I am being evaluated for a kidney transplant or dialysis when the time comes, and my heart muscle disease has increased. Though my physical assault and chronic diseases greatly affect my life and life style, they do not define me. And, it’s through applying these Eight Principles that I have come back stronger…and am better.

It is my hope that these Eight Principles will help sustain you in whatever setback you face, or may face in the future so that you will soon also believe that setbacks can pave the way for comebacks...and when you come back, you come back stronger.


Eight Principles for overcoming a setback:

1. Commitment to your future – life goes on. The sun will come up tomorrow. Commit to overcome your setback in the best way you can for you, for your situation.

2. Opportunity – this is an opportunity to grow and stretch yourself. Setbacks can be a touchstone.

3. Moment by moment – sometimes it’s all you can do to just do the next thing. Routine can help us get through the dark places.

4. Explore your options – ask questions of yourself and how you want to live going forward.

5. Basics – have to look at the facts; this is where I am, this is where I want to be.

6. Advocate – Be your own advocate. There may be supporting people but you ultimately, with divine guidance, have to rescue yourself.

7. Celebrate – each and every hurdle you jump and how far you’ve come… even if it’s only since yesterday!

8. Keep to your commitment to grow, change, evolve, transform, blossom, shine, excel, be, and thrive, no matter how long it takes. And, then, one day you wake up and realize you have overcome your setback and you are stronger!

This is copyrighted and protected material and cannot be reproduced.