15 Minutes of fame

The team arrived at 9 a.m. on August 11, 2010. Not being a morning person, it had occurred to me the night before that I couldn’t be awake, clean, clothed, made up, with my house in order and bed made by 9.It would be easier for me to do all that at 3 a.m. and stay up all night, sitting on the sofa. Then I would be sure to be vertical. I abandoned that ludicrous idea, slept fitfully, and managed to greet all 4of them as they tromped into my apartment right on time.

As they set up tripods, lights, lowered the blinds, and organized themselves, I went to fortify my aching body with green juice. The crew looked at what I was drinking, which looks like pond slime, with curiosity. I offered them each some of the juice by pouring ½ inch in a cup for a taste. Once sampled, 3 of the 4 came back for more and I poured ½ cup for each, feeling mighty proud of converting a new group. The recipe is romaine lettuce, kale, cucumber, celery, carrots, apple – all ground up in a high speed blender. When it is all juice, it is drained through a filter bag to remove the pulp. What remains is this delicious, nutritious, refreshing juice. It looks awful but is so good to taste and even better for the body.

We started the videoing. I was hooked up with a speaker taped to my body and it stayed in place with a battery pack on my back for the next 7 hours as this crew taped me, my thoughts, and my life. I felt thrilled, honored, excited, having the time of my life.

How I came to be in this delightful and humbling situation is a story that starts in 2005 with a revolting development. Aspiring for the American dream, I was living in Miami, happily working in four occupations simultaneously. I had owned an accounting firm for 25 years, worked as the executive director of a number of alumni clubs, was a life coach with clients who struggled with attention deficit disorder, and also owned a computer firm that specialized in untangling computer-accounting messes. Along with an active social life, I was rarely at rest, but was busy and happy.
In one day, I was blinded with a rare condition called acute aeschemic optic neuropathy. That is, I was legally blind in both eyes. The world was now blurry and filled with gray shapes. That was the end of driving and all my carefully developed businesses. I saw my financial future crumbling, and my independence gone. Now I was catapulted into reluctant retirement. From the exhilarating, fun-filled life, I was now in a trough, sitting on my sofa, crying. My friends came to visit and held my hand, but were at a loss to help me. We cried together. My sons and daughter-in-love flew in, helped as much as they could, but eventually went home to their own families and lives.

Weeks passed. One day a friend suggested calling the Miami Lighthouse for the Blind. I did and hope rebounded. A few days later a mini-bus picked me up and I began to learn how to live as an independent blind person. I was enrolled in classes for personal care as in how to dress, cook, sew; a class in mobility, learning how to get around with a white cane; computer class; technology class to learn how to use blind accessible equipment. It was tough going, but I persevered as if my life depended on succeeding. It did.

One day I asked one of my computer teachers, who was blind as most of the staff were blind, “When will I ever be happy again?” “Two years”, he said. Such a long time, I thought. He was right. One day, years later, laughing with my friends, I looked back, remembering what he said.

With white cane in hand I started a new life. My children asked me to move to one of the cities where they lived, ostensibly to keep an eye on me. The choice of Seattle was easy. With the help of everyone I could draft into the project, I packed, tossed, and donated my life. I gave away over a thousand books to the library. I kept 6 books Three months later I flew to my new home, a retirement center , thinking I needed cocooning. In a short order boredom set in and I looked for new challenges. I applied to Guide Dogs for the Blind, was accepted, spent 30 difficult days in guide dog boot camp and emerged with my best friend and the love of my life, DaVida. Now we were ready to conquer the world. The next years were a flurry of furry activity. We joined Rotary, Toastmasters, got reinvolved in Mensa, became involved with local civic groups, and moved into my own apartment. Shortly I was elected group leader of Mensa with 1200 members with lots of activities to enjoy. My adventures with my guide dog became so much fun that I am writing a book of my experiences. In the last few years we have been to Canada 5 times, sometimes with our friend June Brasgalla, to Florida several times to visit June, and other places around the U.S. I speak to groups about my experiences and DaVida charms everyone. Life is so much fun.

Last year Wells Fargo announced an essay contest about people who had reinvented themselves in the second half of their lives. June wrote an essay about me. A year later we were contacted that her essay about me had won and I was being honored as one of the Second Half Champions. Shortly the video team arrived to hear my story about how I overcame my depression and defeat and found a way to live joyfully.

Not everyone chooses to get on with life. I know a number of blind and partially blind persons who, after years of blindness, are still on the sofa, crying, waiting for someone to bring a sandwich. This is the critical choice we make and why the video crew was filling my living room.

In Victor Frankl’s book “ Man’s Search for Meaning”, he writes of how those interred in a concentration camp still had life choices to make. Some shared their meager food with each other. Others stole food from others. We always have choices about how our life will go. I read this book every few years so I can remember to be grateful and to make the most of my life.

Some day I will be face down in my oatmeal. Then all the choices will be over. For now, and until that day, I will get up every day and go out the door to have some fun, help others, enjoy the day, and spread love. Hold off on that oatmeal…

"On A Claire Day--- She Lost Her Sight But Still Has A Bright Vision"

Reprinted from SeniorityMatters.com with permission from its author, Sibyl Adams:


On A Claire Day--- She Lost Her Sight But Still Has A Bright Vision
01/18/11
Meet Claire Anderson. A long-time South Floridian, Claire, currently lives in Seattle, where she frequently mistakes herself for still being 37, even though it’s the 70-year-old men who wink often. Claire gets her kicks these days from riding the city buses, elbow-to-elbow with Microsoft execs and homeless people -- especially because she can’t tell them apart.

In this conversation with Seniority Matters, conducted on a warm-up visit to South Florida, Claire, who is about to celebrate her own 70th birthday, tells her own amazing story of life, lemons and lemonade.
Claire: I owned three businesses and was quite successful, living in Miami, with a wide circle of friends and family, and one day I was driving along and couldn't see....Turns out I had had an optic stroke...a series of them, in both eyes. I lost most of my vision, I had to drop my businesses....
SM: What kind of businesses did you run?
Claire: Computer, events planning and accounting. I called my clients and said, I can’t work for you anymore. And I lost them. I couldn’t even sell the businesses and lost a huge amount of money. My life was totally in turmoil. If I had known then what I know now...
SM: What happened next?
Claire: I sat around and cried for a couple of weeks. But I am a survivor, I slapped myself on knees, and said, “You’ve got to figure out how to deal with this.” I contacted Miami Lighthouse of the Blind...and they were terrific. They taught me how to live, how to cook, how to use a talking watch. I was 64 years old, and I was there for over a year. I owe my life to them. .... I didn't get get my business back but i was functioning.
SM: Why did you decide to move from Miami?
Claire: I have three children. They lived in Orlando, New York and Seattle. And they said, “You need to live in one of the cities that we live in.....I was stuck in my apartment. I lived in Coconut Grove, but I was eight blocks from a supermarket.....I tried New York, but just getting across the six lanes of Broadway with all the taxis trying to kill you.... So I moved to Seattle, and it turned out to be a fabulous place to live... lots and lots of help to live for people with disabilities, things like volunteer drivers, wonderful bus services, someone who cleans my house, someone who helps me with my computer. In addition to all that, I found my place there.
SM: Claire got involved in Toastmasters, one chapter of which met at maximum security prison, where she found she could help the prisoners overcome their fear of public speaking. Her companion dog, the “beautiful, friendly Davida,” goes everywhere with her. She is a leader of the local Mensa organization, and has recently won an award from her peers there. And she’s writing her autobiography, a slice of which you can read here.
You can read more about the indefatigable Claire on her blog, www.clairiescapers.blogspot.com
Claire: Life is about attitude. Everybody's got troubles -- health problems, family, financial. Either you're going to be a victim or a hero. Losing my eyesight, developing a disability... made me into a better person. I was a nice person, but i wasn't an inspiring person.
I’m a lot of fun, I’m a good entertainer. I have my guide dog, and we do fine. You have to develop an attitude of gratitude. Iif you are grateful everyone will help you. But if you are a whiner... (When something like this happens) you have to learn how to be someone else. There are new skills you have to learn. I don't have any fear. I look forward to the next thing that’s going to make life better. …...And that can be as simple as a talking bathroom scale.
Learn about Local and State resources for the visually impaired as well as volunteer opportunities.

The winning essay

Six months ago my friend June Brasgalla wrote an essay about me for a contest about people who reinvent themselves in the second half of their lives. The contest sponsored by Wells Fargo Investments. It was called the Second Half Champions contest. Duh. I was pleased and honored by her lovely words about me but never even fantasized about winning. Now it seems It pays to have a dear friend who is a great writer. Of the thousands of entries, we were one of the three winners in the state of Washington. In addition to awards, video interviews, they are flying her to Seattle to present the award to me, putting her up in a hotel, meals, and other amenities. That is the best part of all. It means June will be here and we will also bring our dear friend Sandy if she can get away. I can invite all my friends and family to attend. It should be a great party - sometime in early October.Here is the essay:

Claire has been my friend for over 25 years. When I first met her she lived in Miami, Florida, where she led a very busy and productive life. Divorced at an early age with two sons to raise and no guaranteed career, she created for herself a life of productivity.
Her most productive years , financially, were in her 50’s and 60’s where she worked as an accountant and was organizing secretary for organizations like Harvard Alumni club, Wharton Alumni club, etc. Her three sons were grown and lived far away so Claire made a life for herself where she was healthy , happy, and had many friends.

However , one day, when she was in her mid sixties, she woke up and she could not see out of one eye. An examination showed that she had had an optical stroke which left her, effectively, blind. She handled it with aplomb...still driving her big old car around and still going to a different group meeting every day or night of the week. Two years later, while driving through Arizona on vacation, the other eye shut down. Her worst fears realized, she faced life as a legally blind woman.

Since that time, she has moved to Seattle , Washington and started a whole new life.
She can see enough to get around a little ,and she moved into a home where there was some assistance and meals. She learned the bus system in Seattle and proceeded to get around that city by herself. After a year, she went to Guide Dogs for the Blind camp in California and met her lovely dog, Davida. The two of them spent a month learning to live together and now they are inseparable.

Claire has never lost her resolve to live life to the fullest. She joined Toastmasters in Seattle and, besides the weekly meeting, she went with the others to a local prison to help the inmates learn public speaking. She connected with the local Mensa group where she began to share her great ideas and penchant for innovative activities with the group and is now running for office as local group leader. She travels alone, a real challenge for a blind woman with a dog. However, she faces each challenge as an adventure and is not shy about accepting help from people who offer it.

She also joined the Speakers’ Bureau and , with Davida, gives about 8 talks a month.
Claire is a gifted writer, has written books and articles about running a business and improving your life. She has a Blog and writes stories about her adventures with DaVida.
She is eager to travel and visit friends, and is not afraid of the difficulties that might face her.

She is the consummate friend, and has literally saved lives by her wise counsel and her supportive friendship and availability. No woman I know inspires me more or makes better lemonade than Claire!!!!

=

Michigan Convention

July 4th weekend in DetroitDaVida and I went to Detroit for a long weekend convention. We hooked up with a long-lost friend Dave. We spent many hours talking, eating, walking around and he groked my life and wrote about it on his blog. For some ridiculous moment I asked he not use my name so he called me Susie. I’m not sure why I said that. Here is his blog, with his permission.
Tuesday, July 06, 2010
The Lady and Her Dog
I spent the weekend with 2,200 people at a convention of sorts, though not really. Back when I lived in Miami I was a member of the convening organization and met a number of good friends who I lost track of after moving to Atlanta and lapsing my membership. Last December, on a whim, I rejoined and looked up names from the past, learning that several of my old friends were still members. Over a series of Emails back and forth, I got roped into going to the convention this last weekend.I don’t like crowds and speakers and presentations and hospitality rooms and bad banquet food; and, I found all of them over the weekend. But I also reconnected with my friends from Miami.You know you have a friend when you start a conversation a couple of decades removed pretty much like you would have a day or so after you had last been with the person.For purposes of this post I’ll skip my male friend, though he’s a post in himself, and focus on my female friend. The inner her hasn’t changed a bit. The outer her has changed. I’m not talking about the changes you might think. About three years ago she lost most of her sight, she’s legally blind. She can read 120 point type and “sees” blobs where people and things are.I’m going to fake blindness and get a service dog. They’re chick magnets. Over the weekend I walked her dog a lot. I don’t get attention. This weekend I did, even when I was alone. “Where’s the dog?” Too, it’s been sometime since I’ve spent time with a dog. I grew up with them, black labs. My new friend from the weekend is a yellow lab and she is smart as hell.When she has the “handle” on she is working. With it off and only wearing a leash, she is off duty; but, at first she still worked. She stopped at the curb. If there were people obstructing our path, she stopped. By about the third walk, all we had to deal with was accommodating the difference in my and her owner’s pace, something we never quite achieved as I walk quite a bit faster and since she was off duty, she felt it her right to wander and sniff as she liked. I knew we had bonded when we had returned to her mom, she greeted her and moved back to me and settled in next to my leg. Kind of nice, though I drew the line at getting kisses.Moving on, there’s a sea of kindness and indifference in the world. For the most part, as my friend and I walked with the dog, as my friend put it, “I’m Moses parting the waters.” Even at the last minute, people moved quickly aside as the saw her and the dog and we flowed through the masses. Then there were those that would look right at her and her dog and cut a foot in front of her forcing the dog to pull back. They didn’t see or didn’t care when they saw my “you #%%(+@!” look.There’s some ignorance too, though that’s not the right word. We sat at a table at one of the banquets. The server had seen the dog. She asked me if I would like coffee and I said yes. “Would she like coffee too?” My friend smiled. I said “I don’t know, Susie*, would you like coffee?” It turned out she would enjoy a cup of coffee and told the server. As she sensed the server leaving she said, don’t worry it happens a lot.I might do another post about Susie* and some of our other adventures over the weekend; but, I’m still digesting the grace, equanimity and plain determination that has allowed her to be no different than the woman I knew a couple of decades ago.(*I told Susie I might do a post and she asked that I not use her name. I hope I picked a name she hates.)

Poem for Claire

CLAIRE
Clarity , Laughter
And
Iridescent Rainbow Energy
Love, Virginia

It's a Dog's Life

Last night I went to a formal dinner in the grand ballroom at the WestinHotel. The only person I knew was my friend Steve who had invited me as his guest. However, DaVida, my guide dog, seemed to have had many friends at the event. Women came across the ballroom to greet her, dropping on their knees in their evening gowns to rub her ears. She responded with doggie kisses and to some of her favorite friends by rolling onto her back so she could get a belly rub. Then a few more doggie licks and they parted. All evening people smiled at my dog, cooed at her, acknowledged her. I guess I was probably having one of my invisible days. The man I sat next to rubbed her head all during dinner.Me? No cranial massage for me. Just, "Pass the salt, please." As we were leaving one of the waiters ran across the ballroom to say, "I'm not handling food anymore, can I pet your dog?" Then there were more nose rubbing, ear massage, and kisses. She made a lot of new friends and you can be sure that if we ever meet any of those people anywhere in Seattle again, there will be a great reunion. I, on the other hand, was introduced to a number of people, extended my hand and said," How do you do?" as if I was a Eliza Doolittle. In return they were no kisses for me, no belly rubs, no ear massages. There is a lesson here. A dog'slife... love and kisses, massages, new friends made everyday. The next time I meet someone I like, perhaps I will roll over on my back and ask for a belly rub. The world surely would be a different place if we all did that.

Sneaky

Today I was at the doctor. I asked to use the restroom. Usually at a doctor's office or hospital the restrooms are large and DaVida goes in with me. This one was tiny. I gave her the Sit/Stay command and went in and closed the door. When I finished my business and came out, there she was in the same position I left her. I was just about to reward her when the woman in the office across the hall said, "She came in my office to visit me. When she heard you coming out, she ran back and got back in the same position that you left her in."

No treat for that! What is a mother to do?