Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.


15 Comments

Why I go to Washington

I’m packing my bag, getting ready to go to Washington DC for the Sorrow to Strength conference. I’ll be with other families who have lost loved ones to preventable truck crashes and some people who have survived such crashes themselves. It’s five days that we look forward to and dread all at the same time.

It hurts.

Still, if you ask any individual attending, they will tell you straight away that the reason they work to make our roads safer is because they don’t want another family going through the pain and grief they’ve been through. They don’t want another family suffering because of something that is so preventable.

Tonight I’m listening to the 10:00 p.m. news as I zip the suitcase shut. The television is on just for background noise, I’m not paying much attention, more interested in making sure I don’t forget to take something important.

And then I hear the words ‘semi’ and ‘fatal’ and ‘construction zone.’

And I reel around and stand still as the story unfolds. You can read about it here.

There is construction on a stretch of freeway that I travel regularly. Today cars were slowed to merge into the construction zone. A semi lost control and rear ended the cars ahead. Two men are dead. A woman was airlifted in critical condition to a hospital. Doubtless there are other injuries, certainly other people who were terrified.

It’s early yet, and we don’t know the entire story. But regardless of the details the truth is that tonight there are new families facing a long journey through loss and injury. Their worlds have just imploded. A semi running into the back of cars slowing for construction is the definition of a preventable crash. I hope that we can connect with these families when they are ready. Meanwhile, I’ll travel to DC and try to be heard.

Because this is why I go to Washington.


8 Comments

“Democracy isn’t a spectator sport.”

I’ve had a good winter off, playing on the beach, watching light move across water, sleeping in, napping mid-afternoon. But it’s time to get back to work.

Work!??? You’re right; I’m retired. So what work am I talking about?

There are many of you new here at Change is Hard. You probably haven’t heard me talk about trucks and safety and my family’s story. You probably think my life is all about photography and travel and a special little dog. And sometimes it is.

“You can turn grief into action.”

But sometimes it’s about grief and loss and preventable crashes. And honoring the memory of my dad who was killed in December of 2004 by a tired semi driver who fell asleep at the wheel while going 65 miles per hour on a freeway in the early morning hours. A driver who failed to see the lights of emergency vehicles up ahead, the people working to clear a minor crash that had occurred earlier. A driver that didn’t notice the traffic stopped in front of him. Didn’t see my dad in his little red car until it was too late.

My dad was a guy who lived by safe rules. He had retired ten years earlier from a career managing chemical plants, inherently dangerous places. He made us all wear our life jackets in the boat when we were kids. He drove with us around and around the neighborhood when he taught us how to drive a stick shift car, until he was satisfied we could operate it safely. He helped my sister build her house in Tennessee, complete with extra roof brackets to hold the roof down in a tornado. Just in case. He carried an emergency contact list in his wallet, listing the four kids and spouses with work and home phone numbers. That’s how they knew where to find us after the crash.

“Hope in the face of difficulty.”

So after we got through the initial days filled with disbelief and unbearable grief, when we were moving into sad confusion buffeted by unrelenting grief, we began to ask questions. How did the driver not see all that traffic ahead? Not see all the emergency lights? The road was straight. The sight lines clear. We searched the internet looking for anything about truck crashes.

And we found the Truck Safety Coalition.

It’s an organization made up of the families of people who have been killed or injured in preventable truck crashes. It provides support to families and it works to change the way things are done in the trucking industry. Sometimes that means working to change regulations and laws. Sometimes that means working to change perceptions among people that drive trucks. Sometimes it’s about educating people that drive cars. Sometimes it means meeting with legislators and staff, or truck company executives, or members of other safety groups. Always it means honoring the memories of those we’ve lost, honoring the lives that have been changed forever of those who were injured.

It means trying to save lives

Every other year the families meet in Washington DC for a few days. We tell our stories, we sadly welcome the new families — those whose losses are recent, we talk about issues, resolutions, how to make a difference. And we go to the Hill and talk to everyone we can. Legislators, Regulators, the Press. Everyone. Sometimes they call us the ‘crazy truck people.’ That’s OK with us. Whatever gives attention to our issues.

“Even when you’re 100% right getting things done requires compromise.”

The conference is coming up next month. I can feel the tension escalating among my Truck Safety “family” already. Facebook is abuzz with truck issues. People are becoming stressed. Or depressed. Or hopeful. Or everything all rolled into one. Attending the conference brings it all back again for us. Yet it’s hard to stay away. “It’s like attending the funeral all over again.” says one mother who has been fighting for truck safety for more than twenty-five years.

The title of this post, and the quotes interspersed throughout, are from former President Obama’s July 2016 speech. I wrote a few things he said down on a random piece of paper way back then and that paper has found it’s way back to me this week. As I gear up for a difficult few days in Washington I thought they were appropriate. Hopeful. Democrat, Republican or Independent, the world would be a better place if we could learn to compromise. I’m hoping we find a bit of that during our conference this year.

It’s probably the most I can expect.


27 Comments

Throwing plans out the window

We're in the mountains now.

We’re in the mountains now.

Katie here. Again. Apparently I have to do everything. Mama says she’s been too stressed to tell the story, and besides, I’m the princess, so it’s all about me. Right? Well not always, but anyway I’ll give you the short version of our latest adventure.

So this was day 2 of our great adventure. I’m in the car a lot, but today mama stopped at a couple parks to let me stretch my legs. Did you know that Kentucky has zero rest stops on I-75? ZERO! Who let that happen? How’s a princess supposed to..um…pee…and other stuff if there aren’t any rest stops?

That's a really big river mama!

That’s a really big river mama!

Anyway, because we couldn’t stop like we normally do, mama took me on a side trip to visit Cumberland Falls! It was way back in the woods, 15 miles of narrow winding road before we got there. But when we did it was all worth it!

You're buying me something at the gift store.  Right mama?

You’re buying me something at the gift store. Right mama?

We didn’t get to see the big falls really well because the lower observation decks were closed. But we got a little peak at them.

This looks very very cold.

This looks very very cold.

Mostly we walked along the rocky shore and enjoyed the blue green water and the bright blue sky.

This is a really big rock mama!

This is a really big rock mama!

What a perfect day! It was still cold, and mama was glad she was still wearing her winter coat and gloves, but I thought it was wonderful!

Awesome colors!

Awesome colors!

Of course stopping there put us behind schedule but mama wasn’t worried, who needs a schedule anyway? We were about 2 hours away from our hotel when something happened. Our car quit!

Well not exactly quit….but the power seemed to go right out of it and we were in the mountains of Tennessee! Mama pulled over and called Onstar who sent out a tow truck. The tow truck driver said I couldn’t ride in his truck so mama seat belted me in and I got to ride in the car on top of the tow truck!

Mama was worried I’d be scared, but I’m a big girl and did just fine. OK, I was awfully glad to see her when we arrived at the dealership and she got me out of the car. And I didn’t like the diesel engine on the tow truck at all!

But in the end the tow truck driver was really nice, and took us to a hotel that my daddy had found for us that takes dogs…and now mama and I are all snuggled up in a king size bed with a big TV and some books and we’re going to wait out the rest of the weekend right here.

Notice the lack of cars....cause we don't have one!

Notice the lack of cars….cause we don’t have one!

We’ll be just fine.

We even got to see a little of the sunset behind the hotel when I made mama take me out for the 5th time to check out the pee-mail. I didn’t want her to miss it.

Sunset on evening #1.

Sunset on evening #1.

I’m good like that.

Talk to you later…

Your adventure reporter Katie-girl.

Our room has a holly tree outside our front door!

Our room has a holly tree outside our front door!


31 Comments

Respect

Life in the woods goes on undeterred by politics.

Life in the woods goes on undeterred by politics.


Four years ago, or was it eight, I had lunch with a good friend. We’ve known each other for more than 40 years, adventured together decades ago, worked together, grieved together, laughed a lot. That kind of friend. But at that lunch we learned our politics were light years apart. I was surprised. So was she. By the end of lunch we had silently agreed to leave the politics out of our friendship, and it’s never come up again.

My philosophy, which I voiced then, was that you didn’t have to like the person, but you had to respect the office.

I had lots to reflect on.

There’s a lot to reflect on.

Yesterday the United States peacefully transferred power and, though I still believe in respecting the office, I’m having a hard time this time. I needed to settle, so instead of watching the inauguration I left home for the day and went to a place where I’ve always found peace.

Kensington Metro Park.

The world feels colorless.

The world feels colorless.

It was a dreary, soggy, grey day and few people were braving the raindrops and cold. I should have worn warmer and dryer shoes. And a hat. Still, the birds, always eager to great me, made me smile.

Thanks for coming by lady!

Thanks for coming by lady!

And there was color to be found if you looked for it.

Love the blues and greens.

Blue and green living together in harmony.

Even when the fog began to drift in and the cold made it’s way into my bones I didn’t leave. So much on my mind, I debated both sides of the argument I’ve watched unfold in the news and in my friends.

Only time will tell.

Only time will tell.

Can a man who has spoken such vile things, a man who apologizes for none of it, a man who essentially uses his wealth and celebrity to bully, can such a man lead the free world? Can he be my president?

Can't we learn to get along?

Can’t we learn to get along?

You don’t have to like the person, but you have to respect the office. Somehow that’s harder to do when your candidate didn’t win. I’m reminded by my more conservative friends that they quietly accepted a candidate they didn’t support for the past eight years.

Can I trust you lady?

Can I trust you lady?

Still…this president scares me.

On the other hand….respect the office.

I am more liberal than many of my friends and family, more conservative than others. Yet we all care about each other and I hope that will continue far into the future, beyond the term(s) of this president, beyond the terms of presidents to come.

Looking for a treat.

Looking for some resolution.

Today I will respect the office, but am mindful that there must be accountability. It’s early yet, but I reserve my right to respectfully, peacefully but loudly protest any actions that take away benefits and rights from members of my family, my friends, and even strangers that deserve the same respect I give the office.

I’ll respect the office Mr. President. But I think we all expect some respect in return.

Change is hard.

Thanks lady!

Thanks lady!


26 Comments

HEY! This is not the way I thought I’d celebrate!

Katie here!

What you say? You just heard from me? You wonder if mama is even doing anything interesting? Well, according to me, the princess, she is not.

Besides! It’s my tenth birthday!

That’s double digits people! It’s a big deal and I’ve been looking forward to it for months! (OK, for moments, but in dog years that’s the same as months.)

There should be cake! And treats and balloons and guests and party hats! And gifts. Lots and lots of gifts.

But instead mama got me this.

Not my color mama!

Not my color mama!

I hate it. I can’t see through it, it flops over my eyes, and it’s not my color. Everybody knows that my color is pink. This thing is not pink. And even the bandage on my leg is blue instead of pink.

Obviously a grievous error.

Mama put me back in the clear cone that the vet gave me. I like it better cause I can see stuff coming at me. Like a treat. Not that I’ve seen any birthday treats. But just in case I’m ready.

This is not my favorite thing either mama!

This is not my favorite thing either mama!

Also it makes an awesome snow scoop.

Mama says I’m really tired and since I’m on pain meds we should probably celebrate my birthday once this whole cone thing is done. What’s a couple weeks anyway she says? Just about a trillion dog years…but whatever mama.

I need a nap but mama says I have to stay awake long enough to tell you that the thing on my leg that the vet took off was just a wart and nothing to worry about.

So now I have to wear this lovely cone of shame for two whole weeks! Sigh. I’m not very good at being a patient. I ask to go outside and then make mama or daddy walk around and around my path without actually doing anything. I mean what do they think? I can’t sniff for a good spot wearing this ridiculous headgear. But then they took it off so I could sniff and I still won’t do anything. I like to make them nuts. Especially when it’s so cold outside and the wind is blowing so hard.

And last night I made mama sleep on the floor next to me. Mostly I didn’t need her but it was nice to push up against her when I woke up scared in the middle of the night. I’m glad she was there. And just cause she did that I let her sleep all the way until 6 a.m. this morning.

Maybe I’ll let her sleep till 6:15 a.m. tomorrow. We’ll see how I’m feeling. Could go either way.

Meanwhile, I expect a big celebration of my birthday after this stupid cone is gone. I’m starting to gather my list of demands now. A princess has to be ready, don’t you know.

Katie here, signing out – thank you all for all your good thoughts and prayers when I went under the knife. I know they made a big difference, and they certainly made mama feel better.

Sending you all sheltie hugs and kisses. And if you need a cone, I have a spare.

My snow scoop.

My snow scoop.


29 Comments

College dorm

Visiting her at the nursing home we talked about how difficult it is for her to adjust to her new life. Rules and roommates, the shared bathroom, the shower room down the hall.

“Sounds like you’re back in college and living in a dorm.” I laughed. “You just need to find some boys and a keg of beer and you’re good to go.”

She laughed too, but then her smile faded.

“It’s hard” she said. “There’s so much to learn here and that’s not easy when you’re a hundred and one!”

“You can do it,” I replied. “And I expect by next week you’ll be learning Italian.”

She laughed again. And then she said it. “Change is hard.”

I nodded in agreement. Yes, it certainly is.

Her bird, Charlie, aka Buddy, died this week, while in the care of a friend back at the apartment building. Maybe he died of a broken heart. Maybe he just got old. Regardless, it is another loss for her to absorb.

Loss after loss. She is strong, has been for 101 years. But this is a lot, would be a lot for anyone.

She says it best. “It’s hell to get old.”

RIP Buddy.

RIP Buddy.


24 Comments

Sheltie soaker

Katie here. I know, I know, you just heard from me, but that was back when I was thankful and right now I’m not feeling very thankful at all! Mama got home from her big Thanksgiving adventure and you’d think she’d be so happy to see me that we’d go to my park and celebrate.

But nooooo.

And it’s even worse! I have a little boo-boo on my front leg that I like to lick in the evenings when I’m bored. Mama and daddy keep telling me to stop and sometimes I do, sometimes I ignore them — it just depends how I feel about following directions. I am a princess you know.

They took me to two different vets and this last vet is going to do a little surgery on me soon to take it off. But meanwhile I keep licking it, and daddy noticed some pus coming out of it while mama was out of town. He called the vet and they gave me some medicine and told him to soak my leg in Epson salts.

Huh! Like that’s going to happen, right?

Well, now that mama is home they decided to try. First mama tried to train me to put my front leg into a big pot. She was giving me treats and saying ‘touch!’ Sure, I’d touch it with my nose but I’m not going to put my foot in that pot! She cooks in that thing, what is she thinking?

So I guess they decided to go big time. Tonight they filled the laundry room sink with warm water and salt and then they put me in it! All four legs!!!! With water up to my tummy!

This is not fair at all!

This is not fair at all!

I wanted out! I tried my darnedest but they were right there saying ‘no baby’ and pretending to pet me but really they were holding me down!

It was sheltie abuse!

After a little bit though I kind of thought that the warm water was nice and I sat down. I kept my ears flat and my eyes big, and I gave them a combination of the sheltie stink eye and pathetic poor baby eye…when I’d look at them at all. Mostly I just kept my head turned away.

I was mortified.

I had to sit in that warm water for ten whole minutes! Then daddy rinsed me off with more warm water. Geeze. I already went to the groomer last week! I don’t think I needed another bath!

After that mama lifted me out and bundled me up in a couple of big fluffy towels and I got rubbed all over. Don’t tell them but I sort of liked that part. Then I shook the rest of the water out of my fur all over her. I think she was more wet than me when we left the laundry room. Plus she had to clean up the floor. And the door and the cabinets and some of the walls.

I don't like being wet mama!

I don’t like being wet mama!

I looked pretty bedraggled when I finally got away from her, and I don’t know if I can forgive them. I’m making mama play a rousing game of piggy tonight to make up for getting me all wet.

And I think I deserve some treats while I'm drying out!!

And I think I deserve some treats while I’m drying out!!

She said something about the vet telling daddy to soak the boo boo every day for a week. I can tell you right now that tomorrow night is not going to go nearly as smoothly as tonight. Oh no. I know what’s up now people and I refuse to allow any sheltie soaking to occur ever again!

It’s war now! An Emsom salt war!

And you can bet on me to win. Shelties always win. And I’m a princess too so it’s guaranteed that this is not happening again.

Stay tuned.

Throw the pig mama!

Throw the pig mama!