Jan/Feb 2019 GTWoman Issue

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Grand Traverse

WOMAN JAN/FEB’19 • LOVE ISSUE

Love ISSUE

MEET LINDSAY HOW I CHANGED MY LIFE BY CHOOSING LOVE

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Grand Traverse Woman

y t i r b e Cel m o o R m Drea ic Class Friday, February 8th, 2019 5:30pm - 8:30pm

inside Golden-Fowler Home Furnishings (S Garfield Avenue in Traverse City)

Join us for a

golden evening of style, color and comfort

to benefit Five local celebrities compete to create the room of their dreams in partnership with a Golden-Fowler designer, all for a wonderful cause! Anything goes and when the rooms are complete, the public is invited into Golden-Fowler’s beautiful showroom to vote for your favorite room and enjoy an evening of festive fun.

Winkler and Kandace Chapple Celebrity Kerry are paired with designer Lauren sighting! for this year’s DreamRoom Classic! MAKE IT A

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Jan/Feb '19

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Grand Traverse Woman

WOMAN2WOMAN KANDACE CHAPPLE & KERRY WINKLER

Grand Traverse

WOMAN northern michigan’s magazine for women

Gym Life: IT’S GETTIN’ REAL

Volume 16, No. 3 JANUARY/FEBRUARY 2019 Grand Traverse Woman P.O. Box 22 Interlochen, MI 49643 tel: 231.276.5105 www.grandtraversewoman.com BLOG: www.kandacechapple.com FACEBOOK: www.facebook.com/grandtraversewoman PUBLISHERS Kandace Chapple Kerry Winkler EDITOR Kandace Chapple, kandace@grandtraversewoman.com

OUR “SEE JANE LOSE” PROGRAM is back for 2019! But it’s got a lot of new components this year. We are joining forces with the YMCA on their “Healthy Living Challenge” in January. But this year it’s a family affair—our three Janes will get free family memberships at the Y and can bring their entire family in for two months. Well naturally, things are a family affair around here, so we promptly joined the Y and gave it a go. And, could it be... love?

THE PARKING LOT It’s no joke to get to the gym on your first day. It’s a bit terrifying, and it’s easy to sit in the car, fully dressed in your brand new workout top and decide you can’t do it. But before you turn to go: Sit in the car and watch everyone crossing the parking lot. You can spot the regulars (on time, gym shoes in hand, at ease), the newbies (sitting one car over), and the ones who just got a text from their workout buddy asking where they are (suddenly becoming speedwalkers). Now take a look at the ones coming out. There are freshly showered women off to work, there are stay-at-home mom’s with their hair in crooked ponytails with a kiddo lassoed from the Y child watch, and there are guys carrying gym bags as big as our purses. And there’s this: They all look kind of bouncy, with some swagger even, walking taller. Something magical has happened between the going in and the coming out. Take it from us: You’re gonna wanna go in to see what.

THE WELCOME Imagine our shock, excitement and awe (emphasis on shock) when Shane and Brittany at the Y were there waiting for us on our first day. We had signed up for bootcamp (naturally, starting at the top of our ability, perhaps beyond it), and there they stood, expecting us. This could be a deterrent for some, as Kerry did in fact make a run for the parking lot. But Shane did a neat sidestep and blocked her exit. Suddenly we were all-in. If this sounds like a hostage situation, it was. But this is where the Stockholm Syndrome started. Because when we finally escaped, guess what they said? “See you tomorrow, right? Which class? Angie’s or Martha’s?” And guess what we said? “Yes!” We had fallen in love with our captors.

THE MIRROR The Y has a multitude of classes to choose from, but those in Studio A have a special obstacle: The mirrors at the front of the room.

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As a newbie, you’ll want the back row, obviously. (But do not make the rookie mistake of just standing there. You must flatten yourself AGAINST the back wall to keep anyone from sneaking in behind you, usually your sister.) But, you’ll be surprised to find yourself soon feeling a tender spot for the newbies. “Sure,” you’ll say, and scoot up. A week later, and you’ll scoot up a little more. Before long, you’ll be using the mirrors at the front of the room to check your form. The mindset transformation comes a lot faster than expected. The physical one, perhaps, too: Last Friday, Kandy swore she saw a ripple of a muscle in her bicep. But it was like a Yeti sighting. There were no other witnesses, it was close to dusk, and the evidence was washed away. Her quest continues.

THE WEIGHTS It’s tempting to go for the big weights. Kandy did this very thing as recently as last week. She overestimated her Yeti strength. But did she put them down? No. She had more pride than sense. By then, she was NOT in the back row but was dead center, in fact, in conversation with the instructor about her goals. And while she should have and could have switched her weights for lighter ones, she decided to put herself in chiropractic care for the week instead. If this kind of situation unfolds next to you, go ahead and enjoy the show, especially if it’s your sister. There will be facial contortions first. Then, the weights will begin to swing in wild, unpredictable directions. Next, you’ll see what survival looks like in their eyes. It’s like a mini episode of Tank Tops and Afraid.

GO AGAIN Our best piece of advice: Keep going. Because now you’re part of the club. You’ve been a hostage, a witness, a gambler. Can you really get that kind of fun anywhere else? (More Stockholm Syndrome talking here.) But, seriously, the longer you go and the more you do, the better it gets. And we know Shane and Brittany are waiting for you. Prepare to fall in love whether you want to or not. (You’ll never see it coming, and you’ll thank them for it later.) Grand Traverse

If you’d like to apply to be one of our three Janes, the application deadline is Jan. 11. Visit us at www.grandtraversewoman.com for full details. We will be a part of the challenge this year too!

ACCOUNT DIRECTOR Kerry Winkler, kerry@grandtraversewoman.com ACCOUNT EXECUTIVES Deb Dent, deb@grandtraversewoman.com Sherry Galbraith, sherry@grandtraversewoman.com Lori Maki, lori@grandtraversewoman.com Stacey Partak, stacey@grandtraversewoman.com ASSISTANT EDITOR Eva Nienhouse, eva@grandtraversewoman.com COPY EDITOR Christine Kurtz DESIGNER Bethany Gulde, bethany@grandtraversewoman.com www.bethanydesigntc.com

COVER PHOTO Lindsay Sea Wills tells the story about building her life again. See her story on page 6. Beth Price Photography, www.bethpricephotography.com PHOTOGRAPHERS Sarah Brown, Sarah Brown Photography www.sarahbrown-photography.com Scarlett Piedmonte, Photography by Scarlett www.photobyscarlett.com Beth Price, Beth Price Photography www.bethpricephotography.com CONTRIBUTING WRITERS Beth Barbaglia Victoria Benson Earlene Blevins Linda Caswell Kerr-Ann Dempster Kathie Macchioni Millie Mellgren Carol Parker Nancy Stoessel Lindsay Sea Wills ADVERTISING Kerry Winkler at 231.276.5105 or kerry@grandtraversewoman.com Visit www.grandtraversewoman.com for rates. SUBSCRIPTIONS To receive GTWoman at home, mail $20 (for 6 issues) to: Grand Traverse Woman, P.O. Box 22, Interlochen, MI 49643 ARTICLES/PRESS RELEASES Letters, inquiries, press releases and GTWoman In Business submissions are welcome. See www.grandtraversewoman.com for guidelines.

WOMAN

See Jane Lose

EE

See Jane Lose

MAKEOVER

MISSION STATEMENT Grand Traverse Woman is a bimonthly magazine dedicated to the interests of women in the five-county region. Our mission is to provide women with a publication that is educational and inspirational. We strive to maintain a positive, well-balanced and genuine forum for women’s issues. (We also like funny stuff.) © Copyright 2019 Grand Traverse Woman LLC All rights reserved.

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Grand Traverse Woman

Locals receive 10% OFF* spa treatments

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231-534-6750 | grandtraverseresort.com/spa Owned & Operated by the Grand Traverse Band of Ottawa & Chippewa Indians

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Beauty from the Ashes M Y J O U R N E Y O F T R A N S F O R M AT I O N BY LINDSAY SEA WILLS

I REMEMBER the day my life changed. The day that my life as I knew

Shattered The front page of the newspaper. The leading story on the news. The chatter flooding this little town. It all had one thing in common: his outrageous choices. He was sentenced to prison, and in a flash, my hopes and dreams of a happy and thriving family, marriage, and children shattered before my eyes. I couldn’t believe this was my new reality. I found myself in emergency straits financially, filing for divorce and wondering if we would lose our house. I instantly became a full time single mom, was working in a more than full time career while helping my two young children stay afloat with so many new pieces of their life to process.

TOTAL DARKNESS The income that had more than doubled mine was gone. I had no idea how I could afford to live or provide for my children on my sole modest income. I couldn’t comprehend how my kids and I would navigate the public chaos swirling around our small town. I was terrified my reputation would be ruined, my career and friendships compromised. The shame connected to someone else’s choices was lurking at my door, tantalizing me with its cold chortle. I was blind with confusion. I had to find a way to support myself and my two small children and protect them. NOW. In this unimaginable circumstance, the unknowns were crippling. I became frozen with fear; I just wanted to know that I’d be able to provide for my children long-term, that they’d be safe, and that they’d be able to move forward, too.

LETTING GO But, over time, I realized I had to let go. There was no way to know how things would turn out, and I knew I needed to keep moving forward. I began to act my way into a new reality. When I felt down and overwhelmed, I chose to claim positivity and act in positive ways. When I needed support, I forged new friendships and allied myself with awesome people. When I needed to believe in my worth and value, I read books, listened to podcasts, and wrote about claiming the truth of who I was, because that is what I NEEDED to believe.

COMMUNITY LOVE Very quickly, this tiny community began to give. Unconditionally. No questions asked. People came together and offered me huge amounts of support and showed me so many acts of incredible kindness. I had friends snow-blowing my driveway, watching my kids and buying them Christmas presents. People brought us meals and helped me work on my house. Donation after donation poured in and a secret angel helped me pay most of my mortgage for the first year and a half of my single mothering journey.

BETH PRICE PHOTOGRAPHY

it—the “perfect” life I had worked so hard to protect—disappeared. When I got the news of my now ex-husband’s criminal sexual conduct, fear, shock and terror rushed through my veins. I felt paralyzed. Numb. I didn’t know what to do or how to move forward. But slowly, I found my way. Although I still grapple with a past that cannot be erased, I know there is more life to be built. So I build it, from ashes to incredible, unbelievable beauty.

LINDSAY WITH HER TWO CHILDREN.

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What at first had seemed like a dark, engulfing cave transformed into a tunnel. Yes, it was a long tunnel of darkness, but for the first time, I could at least see a light peeking through at the end.

BETH PRICE PHOTOGRAPHY

CHANGING CAREERS

1. SELF CARE It was crucial for me to truly feel my feelings and process my experiences. I freed myself to grieve my losses. This was a long process. I remember feeling like it would never let up. Over time, anger, sadness and despair appeared less frequently. By grieving what was, it allowed me to make room for what is. I chose loving behaviors for myself by doing nice things just for me. I scheduled things that felt uplifting, like meeting a friend for coffee, going to a workout class, taking a bubble bath, or talking with a counselor. These are all examples of how I added fuel to my tank. Having fun allowed me to take a break from everything that was serious in my life and offered me a little bit of perspective. Life wasn’t meant to be heavy all the time. I couldn’t lighten my load if I never set down my weighty package of hard circumstances to take a break. I scheduled regular nights out with my girlfriends (sometimes for only one hour) because it brought more hope, joy and fun into my life. I was worth it! By taking care of myself, I could give more to others. When negative emotions were tugging at me, it was usually a sign to prioritize a little more self-care. It wasn’t selfish. It was self-loving. And that love trickled down to everyone and everything. 2. LIVING TRUE TO MYSELF When I became really clear on who I was, who I wanted to be and what I was about, life became more harmonious. It was time for me to rebuild my life on a new foundation of living true to myself. This included love, authenticity, humility and clarity. If someone responded to my situation in a judgmental or hurtful way, it was an opportunity for me to create a new boundary in that relationship. Sometimes that meant having a tough conversation and standing up for myself. Other times it meant choosing to place my energy in a new direction—with people who built me up and embraced me for who I was and where I was. It was OK for me to make choices that were best for me and it was necessary for me to surround myself with a community of people who emulated my life goals and beliefs, people who really walked the walk of authenticity. As I shifted into clearer alignment, so did my tribe. I became clearer and clearer on what my “no”s were. I said no to anything that wasn’t serving my life well. I paused and really considered what I wanted for myself in any experience, be it a romantic relationship, friendship or work situation. I was more confident as I chose boundaries that protected my peace and happiness and kept me moving in the direction I wanted to go. Living true to myself was one of my most important keys to living authentically with freedom. Everything became clearer and my dreams began turning into realities. 3. CLAIMING ABUNDANCE I began to dream...and dream BIG. I claimed abundance while setting productive, positive goals for myself. As I took steps toward those goals, real shifts took place. Even though I didn’t know where I would get the money, I continued pursuing and eventually completed my master’s degree in counseling. I reached out to my friends and family to help watch my kids while I attended class and wrote papers. I woke up at 5 a.m. multiple days a week for years to accomplish this goal and it was WORTH IT. I now am the proud owner of Live True Counseling and I am writing a book on crushing it at life as a single mom. I am living the dream I set for myself, and I am thankful for the abundant life I am living. I love what I do, and it blesses my life every day. I claim abundance relationally, spiritually, physically and even financially, as often as possible. I choose to feel the emotions I want to feel, set my sights on my dreams and make room in my life for those dreams to become a reality. My abundance mindset has truly transformed me from the inside out. I feel it, choose it and live it.

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Still, I was exhausted. My job teaching vocal music to nearly 350 students in one of the top music programs in the state was more than full time. I felt I couldn’t lead at my best and also be the mother I wanted to be to my son and daughter. It was time for me to resign. My students needed more of me and, more importantly, my children needed their mom to be able to offer them more— more time, more support, more availability and more energy. So, I took the leap and said goodbye to a career that I loved. I started teaching singing on my own—and it worked! It was a scary move, but oh so worth it. Not only did I still get to work with singers, but I got to do so on my own schedule. I also got to serve as a vocal clinician and adjudicator, offer singing workshops, direct the state honors choir and host an empowered-women choir camp. And best of all, I could be there for my kids, too. Life was looking up.

I AM ENOUGH As someone who is deeply rooted in connection with others, I felt a deep sadness and loneliness in not having a romantic partner. I didn’t know how I would find him or where or when he would appear. I felt like my wounds had opened my eyes to so many scary things, and I didn’t know that I could ever trust a man again. I also didn’t know how I could feel completely fulfilled in my life without a partner. This took a long time to navigate. A LONG time. After years of feeling sad and disappointed, I finally had an “aha” moment. I realized, felt and owned that I was the one I was waiting for. I had so much to live for and enjoy—for myself and with my children. It was time to trust that “he” would appear at just the right time and I should live fully. After I realized this, my dark tunnel began to brighten even more. I became more vibrant from the inside out. I knew that I would be OK whether I had a partner or not. I was enough. I am enough.

FRESH START I eventually had enough support to begin planning how I could take some steps forward. Baby steps. I put one foot in front of the other, and friends and family walked with me. Little by little, things began to change. What I thought would destroy my kids and me instead made us stronger, more resilient, more compassionate and more grateful. Joy was my new motto and a bright, wide smile was my new norm. I was becoming enveloped in opportunities, incredible friendships and I was living the story of my amazing life.

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I am not what has happened to me. I am what I choose to become. —Carl Jung

BEAUTY FROM THE ASHES: THREE KEYS Through countless hours of scholarly research on resilience, along with my personally lived experience, I have found three keys to unlocking the doors to a new life of beauty from the ashes. These keys have been pillars for me in navigating the rough waters that have come my way. Self care, living true to yourself and claiming abundance through the lens of love have allowed me to live a life I wouldn’t trade for the world. My heart is full of joy, my life is filled with hope and my kids are thriving. I stand on my sacred ground and claim love above all else and I trust that love will be greater than any obstacle that comes my way.

ONLY BEAUTY AWAITS Five years later, the darkness is still there. The ashes of the past lurk in those dark places, but I have learned to grab hold of sunshine whenever I can. There is always a way. I maintain awareness of what I need, and I still squeeze in some time for myself to let go, to have fun, to just be. I remind myself that I’m always worth it. It truly makes me a better “me” for others. When fear reigned, I chose to move forward. To do it anyway. I have learned that the power of intention makes us more resilient and that we CAN do it—we can come out on the other side with a better life than we could have ever imagined possible. Had this tragedy not occurred, I would have missed out on the most empowering and rewarding journey of my life. My story is now filled with more beauty and less ashes. More love and less loss. Where there once was despair, there now is joy. Where there once was darkness, there now is light. True beauty awaits us on the other side of ashes.

Lindsay Sea Wills is a counselor, singer, speaker, teacher, writer, and mother of two. Lindsay offers individual counseling services at her counseling practice, Live True Counseling, located in Traverse City, and she is passionate about helping people process their experiences and live their lives in abundance. Lindsay is a recent TEDx Traverse City pitch finalist and will be speaking in the Fulfillament series this coming May. In January, she will be directing the State Honors Choir at the Michigan Music Conference in Grand Rapids. Lindsay’s professional and life motto is: Summoning strength and beauty. Igniting Courage and Compassion. Lindsay can be reached at Lindsay@livetrue.life or www.livetrue.life.

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Grand Traverse Woman

Love Welcomes All. Early Service in the Chapel at 8:15 am Upbeat & Casual Service at 9 am Traditional Service with Organ & Choir at 11 am

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Assessment. Counseling. Therapy. Accepting New Patients: 866.852.4001 1050 Silver Drive, Traverse City pinerest.org/traverse-city

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Jan/Feb '19

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HEALTHY LIVING Mastering the ‘Change’ Mindset BY BETH BARBAGLIA

STARTING a new routine isn’t easy—it takes planning, commitment and mental fortitude. As we break into the new year, many people are shifting into goal setting mode. For most, that means new routines; new routines that yield new results. Goal setting is important, but studies show us that most people’s resolve is gone by March (and that’s if they had a tight grip on their goals). A very small contingent of people have mastered a mindset of change that allows them to set and crush goals all year long. So what’s the difference? How can you stay committed to your goals? It’s important to know that willpower alone isn’t the secret. You can want something badly and still only hold on raggedly for several months before being shaken off your pursuit. If you’re wanting lasting change, consider these 3 factors:

1. Get your significant other on board The first step is to get your biggest supporter on board! Not married or in a relationship? Call up your best friend! The point is, whoever you invest the most energy and share a life with NEEDS to be on board. For example, have you ever tried to stop eating junk food in a household that has a steady diet of Twinkies and energy drinks? If the person you love or live with is constantly eating junk food in front of you, your goal is going to be harder than it needs to be. It’s also important to remember that transformation goes beyond physical changes. When you begin hitting your weight loss goals, you start feeling more confident, bold and comfortable in your own skin. That can make your significant other feel left behind or cause tension. This isn’t to say you shouldn’t improve yourself if your spouse or significant other doesn’t have goals for him/herself, but it IS important to have a conversation about what you’re trying to accomplish, how he/she can help you, and also communicate that you still love them and want them on this journey with you. These points can still be true for someone you simply spend a lot of time with each week, too. Get as much support in your corner as you can!

2. Break your goals down We make goals because we’re either deeply unsatisfied with a category of our lives or because we’re craving something more. In those moments of dissatisfaction or wanting more, we create some massive goals—which is great! But, we often stump ourselves on how to actually accomplish those goals. Break your goal down into bite-size pieces that you can accomplish in under an hour. What’s one small step you can take to get closer to your goal? For instance, if you want to lose 20 lbs. but currently don’t exercise and have a pretty gnarly diet, think about one small step you could take toward your goal: • Take a 20-minute walk once a day • Eat a vegetable with every meal • Replace 16 oz. of water for every pop you drink • Find a place you feel comfortable working out and check out their pricing You may be thinking, “Shouldn’t these starting points be harder?” No. It’s more important to get your body used to movement, not shock it with six hardcore workouts a week. Establishing exercise as a sustainable habit in your life will help you be successful when you DO start adding harder workouts.

3. Schedule your small steps So now you’ve got small steps to take, but when are you going to take them? Scheduling your progress steps is an absolute MUST. Let’s say you want to go back to school and get your degree in an area you really love. What’s a small first step to take? Find out what classes you need to take. When are you going to do that? Schedule it! Tasks will expand to fit the time we allow them. If you give yourself a year to find out what classes you need to take, you’ll take the full year to get that info. Give yourself two weeks, you’ll get it in two weeks. You can’t leave your small steps to chance. Schedule your small steps and don’t break your appointments with yourself. You’ll be crushing your goals in no time. You deserve every one of your goals! Your goals are attainable, and everything you need is already inside you. Go get ‘em, rockstar.

Beth Barbaglia, MBA, is the marketing and communications director at the Grand Traverse Bay YMCA, a non-profit organization focusing on youth development, healthy living and social responsibility. As a certified personal trainer (American Sports and Fitness Association), collegiate hockey player and health coach, Beth has combined her MBA in marketing with her lifelong passion of health and wellness in a career at the “Y.” She can be reached at bethb@gtbayymca.org.

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Grand Traverse Woman

Grand Traverse WOMAN

See Jane Lose 2019

STRONG IS THE NEW Beautiful

EE

APPLY BY JAN. 11THeFOR GTWOMAN’S e S SEE JANE LOSE 2019nPROGRAM! e

MAKEOVER

Ja We will select 3 GTWOMAN READERS to e participate in os L a FREE YMCA Healthy Living & Weight Loss Challenge. (Plus our Janes receive a free YMCA FAMILY Membership!)

The SWEAT The YMCA will guide each Jane on a wellness journey with the following: • 2-month Family Membership valid at all locations • Unlimited Group Exercise classes, including FREE access to Y-Zone classes • Exclusive access to the weekly Weigh To Go bootcamp focusing on HIIT, strength and cardio exercises • Exclusive access to the Weigh To Go private Facebook group • (2) Personal Training sessions each week and unlimited support via text and email • Weekly weigh-ins & a point system to keep motivated • Nutrition and fitness tracking booklet • FREE access to on-site Child Watch at the West Y

www.grandtraversewoman.com

The SWEET Our additional sponsors will offer: GTOC Skin care for the Janes, plus eyewear Grand Traverse Nutrition Nutrition Counseling JCPenney Salon Hair color & cut, make-up and blow out Sarah Brown Photography Before & After photos At Your Service Cleaning 1 house cleaning Angela Johnson, LMT 90-minute massage

The START Fill out an application and send us that “before” picture you want to say goodbye to! Janes will be featured in GTWoman as progress unfolds, as well as celebrated at a Reveal Party! Apply online at www.grandtraversewoman.com Application Deadline: Friday, Jan. 11th at 11:59 p.m.! Challenge Dates: Jan. 21 through March 11 Reveal Party: March 13 Network Nite

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Grand Traverse Woman

We are a friendly, family oriented practice. Accepting new patients of all ages.

Grand Traverse

WOMAN Mar/April 2019

Career Issue is Coming Soon!

for the whole

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We have an exclusive offer for our CAREER issue only: We are offering #WomenAtWork Profiles! Includes text, headshot, full color logo and the opportunity to showcase your career! Perk: Profiles will be shared on our GTW Facebook page. We have over 4k followers!

#WomenAtWork

! p p A e h t t e G

ler, Publishers and Entrepreneurs Kandace Chapple and Kerry Wink Winkl er, twin sister s and publishers Hello! We are Kanda ce Chapp le and Kerry 15 years , and we hope our huge been It’s zine. Maga n Woma of Grand Traver se a bit. Is it worki ng? But our aged ’t haven we like look us amount of hair make s share d with all the wome n we’ve love and s laugh the real secre t to 15 years is all , new and warm . We funny , sassy , smart real, – who make GTWo man what it is rk – from adver tising netwo man’s GTWo of hope you’ll consi der becom ing a part ing our month ly wome n’s event s where and article s in the magazine to attend relatio nship s. Our numb er one rule it’s all about buildi ng perso nal (and fun!) know wome n who are wond erful! to g gettin and er togeth Bring ss? for succe #Wom enAtWork

Grand Traverse

WOMAN

Find it FREE in the APP STORE or GOOGLE PLAY 12

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.com kandace@ grandtraversewoman m kerry@grandtraversewoman.co www.grandtraversewoman.com

This is an ideal opportunity to share your vision and goals with the GTWoman community. Spotlight those team members who are making a difference in your organization. Women are drawn to the personal aspect of your business as much as your service and product. Open up the door and let them have a peek inside of what makes your business tick!

Email kerry@grandtraversewoman.com Pricing starts at $299 Call or Text 231.276.5105 www.grandtraversewoman.com www.grandtraversewoman.com


BETH PRICE PHOTOGRAPHY

Grand Traverse Woman

Luncheons Grand Traverse WOMAN

Lindsay Sea Wills Meet Lindsay Sea Wills—Lindsay knows a thing or two about hitting rock bottom. Just a little over five years ago, she received news that shattered her world: Her ex-husband was arrested for criminal sexual conduct. The joy, color and beauty of her life was sucked into a vortex – an abyss of darkness. He was sentenced to prison, and, in a flash, her hopes and dreams of a happy and thriving family, marriage, and children were destroyed.

Bring It!

Lindsay instantly became a full-time single mom to two, and found herself in emergency straits financially, filing for divorce and wondering if she would lose her home. She was working in a more than full time career, while helping her two young children stay afloat with so many new pieces of their life to process.

ROCK BOTTOM TO ROCKING IT Speaker

Lindsay Sea Wills

Wed, Feb 13 11am-1pm

Through the tears and through the loss, Lindsay knew that she had to fight to get her life back. And she did just that. Through the ups and downs of a journey, one thing remained steadfast – NOTHING would get in the way living a life of abundance, joy and love. From short, sweet ladies’ nights out to bubble baths, to workout classes, Lindsay found joy in life again. Enveloped by a supportive community that rallied around her and claiming a manifesto of positivity, her world began looking up. Lindsay’s talk will walk you through her journey from rock bottom to rocking it. Overcoming the darkness is about choosing to BRING IT by claiming goodness, by living true to ourselves and by loving our way into a new reality. Lindsay will share practical ways in which each one of us can claim our most abundant life NOW! Lindsay is a counselor, singer, speaker, teacher and writer. Lindsay’s counseling practice, Live True Counseling, offers individual counseling services in Traverse City, where she empowers people to feel their feelings, process their experiences, overcome hurdles and truly LIVE their lives in abundance. To find out more about Lindsay, visit http:// livetrue.life. Join us for lunch on Feb. 13th, where you’ll learn how to BRING IT and make changes for good in your life too!

Grand Traverse

WOMAN

NETWORKING | VENDOR BOOTHS | PLATED LUNCH LOCATED AT HAGERTY CONFERENCE CENTER

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LUNCH TICKETS: $35/EACH OR 2 FOR $60 VENDOR BOOTHS: $185 (INCLUDES 2 LUNCH TIX)

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Jan/Feb '19 13


Grand Traverse Woman

The Perfect

HOW I ACCIDENTALLY FOUND LOVE ON TINDER BY EARLENE BLEVINS

IN 2010, my 27-year marriage had ended, and I was ready for a fresh start in Traverse City, my new home. My children were wonderful, thriving young adults, living their own lives. I didn’t want them to worry about me, and I knew I needed to create my own life as well. So, although it wasn’t always easy, I did find my place. And, without even planning on it, I found the perfect plus-one, too.

STARTING OVER WITH FRIENDS Not long after I settled in, I found a wonderful group of female friends whom I loved and who loved me back. I loved having a circle I could count on, talk to and spend time with. I liked the direction my life was going. My girlfriends often shared their online matchmaking stories, from awkward first dates to rocky last ones, but I didn’t feel the pull to create any dating site profile. We had each other, I thought. I even suggested we buy land together and build little cabins. We’d support each other and grow old together, and we could have male friends in the group, too. More than six years after my divorce, I still had not even considered dating. It was sometimes painful to think I’d never be touched again, but I always brushed it off. On Feb. 13, 2016, I went with some friends to a comedy show at The Parlor, a cocktail bar in town. One of the comics talked about Tinder and the crowd roared with laughter. I didn’t get it. I’d never heard of “Tinder.”

TINDER ENTERS THE PICTURE The next morning, Valentine’s Day, I was early for a snowshoe hike with the girl-gang. While I waited for the girls, I figured I’d look up Tinder to see what everyone had found so funny. It was a free app. Innocent enough, I thought. I logged in using my Facebook account and planned to delete it after I looked around. It asked me what radius I was interested in and, since I wasn’t really interested, I chose the minimum: 5 miles. The first picture appeared, and I felt like I was peeking at something I shouldn’t be. I hadn’t dated since college, and I’m sure I blushed. I worried that I wasn’t going to be attracted to men my own age. As I kept swiping, I noticed a common theme. “What is it about fish and why is almost every guy holding one?” I thought. I continued to

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Jan/Feb '19

EARLENE WITH HER PERFECT +1 TINDER DATE, DAVID.

peruse. Who knows, maybe some of these guys would join our friend group.

HELLO, DAVID Finally, there was one guy who seemed friendly enough. His name was David. He was cute and had friendly eyes, and he wasn’t holding a fish or a basketball. Bonus. I read David’s short bio. He wasn’t looking to hook up—just a friend. His wife had died a couple of years ago and he wasn’t afraid to hit the dance floor. He seemed like a “good friend” candidate. I tried that swipe right thing, thinking I’d invite him to be friends. But something went wrong. Suddenly, all these hearts floated up the screen. “You super like David!” it prompted. “What!?!? No, I don’t! I would never!!” I yelled. But I couldn’t make it stop and I couldn’t take it back, no matter what I tapped. My heart raced. I was so embarrassed! All I could think to do was turn it all off and pretend it didn’t happen. So, happy to escape, I headed for the snow to cool off my red cheeks. Later, I’d learn that David joined Tinder because someone told him that people our age use it. He tried it for a while and stopped looking until he got a special notification on Valentine’s Day (the day after he swore off relationships), that someone “Super Liked” him.

MEETING HIM David and I messaged through the app a bit and discovered we both had dogs named Bailey. A sign, I told myself. We decided to meet at 7 Monks. “I have a date, isn’t that weird?” I asked my son before our date. “No, mom, that would be normal,” he said. I walked to 7 Monks from work, nervous that I’d be able to recognize David from his picture. But I walked into the taproom and there he was, waiting just inside the door. We sat at a booth side-by-side and I was thankful because it was less awkward than looking right at him. Oh, I was so awkward! I surprised myself because I found him attractive and I had those little butterflies that I’d forgotten all about. I told him I was looking for friendship, and we agreed to maybe go hiking sometime. That weekend, after returning home early from a trip downstate, I texted David, asking if he’d like to go for a hike. “OMG, yes!” he responded. His words tickled me. Before our hike, I told my son I had a second date. “Where did you meet this guy?” he asked. “Tinder,” I replied innocently. “Oh my God, no, mom! Not Tinder!” he exclaimed. “That’s a hook-up site!” I went anyway.

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Grand Traverse Woman

LOVE OVER 50 On our third date, David and I went to The Parlor for Euchre and won the whole tournament. Another sign. The final sign that David was a keeper was when he fit in so well with my group of friends too. It’s fun having a second chance at love over 50. There are some things I have learned since the first time around: • Be nice, even if you don’t feel like it. • Be honest, even if it hurts, but never intentionally hurt the other person. • Make your relationship a priority and always respect each other. • Always assume the best. • Do things together and with friends, too. It’s been great having a guy in the gang! • And, our favorite, don’t worry about the future—just have as much fun together today as you can, so you want to do it again tomorrow! David and I have since bought a house together and are very much in love. It has taken courage to be vulnerable and to trust again, but I’ve learned that David and I are worth the risk. I never thought that carving my own path would provide me with both a phenomenal friend group and a second love. But, as I sit at a table with my gal-gang, David by my side, I think again. Earlene Blevins is a Licensed Professional Counselor and enjoys working with women ready to discover their best selves. She and David, a detail carpenter, live in Traverse City. Visit Earlene’s website www.earleneblevins.com or email her at counseling@earleneblevins.com.

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Jan/Feb '19 17


Grand Traverse Woman

LOVE Cherry Orchard IN THE

BY CAROL PARKER

CAROL AND HER HUSBAND EDWARD.

BICYCLE RACING in a cherry orchard. That’s how our romance began. Cycling has been a part of my life since I was very young. One of my favorite photos as a child is with my tricycle. At age 10, I was the first kid in our neighborhood to receive a bike with multiple gears and hand brakes. For my highschool graduation gift, I turned down a car for a French racing bike. Naturally, in 1986, I had to join friends to watch the first Sleeping Bear Mountain Bike Classic, based at The Homestead Resort near Glen Arbor. On that warm September afternoon, we cheered the cyclists racing the nearby hills that overlook Lake Michigan in our piece of heaven we call “home.” Having just recently purchased my first mountain bike, it accompanied me to the inaugural bike event. To my surprise, I was the only member of our gang of friends who owned a mountain bike. While we waited for the competitors to race up and down Miller Hill and finish at the scenic hill overlook, everyone took turns riding my bike. By the following spring, about eight of us had mountain bikes, with several of them becoming competitors that autumn.

THE FIRST DAY(S)! Waiting for the awards ceremony, a tall man with outdated glasses, a slightly goofy smile, gorgeous eyes and a good sense of humor sat next to me. His name, I learned, was Edward. We chatted, the awards were presented, and we parted ways. The following year I volunteered with a lovely woman named Barb. We were assigned to an area deep in the Leelanau County woods. We spent hours tracking all the racers. At the

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Jan/Feb '19

awards ceremony, Edward joined us, purchased our lunches and was a gentleman. The third year of the mountain bike races at The Homestead, I sought out a very pregnant Barb to volunteer as a pair. Once more we were shuttled out to our race station in the woods, walkie-talkies and clipboards in tow. We checked off the racers on each lap. The number of cyclists was now in the hundreds and the event had even scored some national bike sponsorships. Like the previous year, while sitting in the outdoor amphitheater awaiting the awards ceremony, Edward again joined Barb and me, bought our lunches and commemorative pins. As before, he was charming, funny and extremely friendly. As we walked to our cars at the end of day, I mentioned to Barb that her friend Edward was very nice. “I thought you knew him,” she said. “I thought you knew him,” I replied. We laughed hysterically and agreed that he was a great guy.

CONNECTING AGAIN In September 1989, the bike races were moved to Sugar Loaf Resort, another skiing and golfing venue in Leelanau County. By now, the Sleeping Bear Mountain Bike Classic had become a nationally renowned cycling event, with intermediate and pro riders competing. Knowing that my accomplice-in-crime Barb had recently had her baby, I had no idea whom I would be volunteering with that year. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that Edward was my companion for the day. As we walked from the resort grounds deep into a neighboring cherry orchard, we passed

the time with casual conversation. Our responsibility for about six hours was to direct the fast-riding cyclists through the narrow trails between the cherry trees. With the passing of the riders, the sandy ground became more treacherous to navigate. It made me glad that I was a volunteer and not competing. When two volunteers are in the middle of a cherry orchard, awaiting swarms of sweaty cyclists to pass, they have a lot of time to talk and learn about each other.

IN THE KNOW I discovered that Edward was an accomplished cyclist and managed The Sports Shop of Beulah. He was also the bike shop mechanic, known throughout Benzie County (and here in Traverse City) as the “Bike Guy.” He co-founded this race, along with Bob McLain of McLain Cycle and Tim Brick of Brick Wheels. He was also involved in founding the Cherry Capital Cycling Club. He was divorced and lived in a small house in Honor and had three young sons who lived in Traverse City. After standing for three hours in the September heat, my arthritic body was screaming in pain. I casually mentioned to Edward that I wished I had a chair. He headed back towards the resort, returning 15 minutes later with a folding chair! He said that he found it in the maintenance building that we had passed on our way to our cherry orchard post. What building? I thought. The more we chatted, the more enchanting he became. With a quick wit and as a master of puns, he had me laughing for hours. I could look beyond those outdated glasses to his lovely hazel eyes. Plus, he had great, muscular cycling legs!

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Grand Traverse Woman

In Touch

He gave me his business card with his personal phone number as we parted after another lunch, his treat. He hoped I would call him soon.

THE PHONE CALL A month later, while admiring the fall colors in Benzie County, I mustered the courage to call him. I had never called a man I only knew for a few days (each day a year apart, mind you) and was extremely nervous. I rang, and he quickly answered. I ended up driving to his location and, together, we drove to Nancy’s Restaurant (long closed) in Honor. He was so easy to talk to and being with him just felt comfortable, like we were a long-married couple, I imagined. Hours later, we left as the eatery was closing. Our next date was riding our mountain bikes on the trails at the end of Deadstream Road off M-22. The sun set quickly and we rode back in the dark, moonlight sparkling off his bike as lead cyclist. We married five years later, thanks to the bikes and a cherry orchard. Now, 29 years and 30 bikes later, we still laugh about how and where we met and started to fall in love. Carol Tompkins-Parker, born in England and raised in Traverse City, is an artist, former art educator, community volunteer, gardener, classic movie connoisseur and owner of her startup art business, My Pen in Hand. Severe arthritis does not stop her, especially riding long distance on the new tandem with her husband, Edward.

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Grand Traverse Woman

13 TH TIME’S THE

Charm

After a dozen marriage proposals, I finally said Yes! BY MILLIE MELLGREN

MY CHILDREN think having 13 men ask me to marry them says something not-so-good about my character. I think it just means I’m picky. And stubborn. So why, after not getting married to the first 12, did I say “Yes” to number 13?

THE FIRST 12 There was a string, beginning with high-school boyfriends, college boyfriends, first-job boyfriends, and graduate-school boyfriends, who all seemed interested in something I had to offer. Evidently knowing how to play the piano and sing reasonably well qualifies one to be a minister’s wife. I received a number of proposals for those skills alone. I was also a coach, which intrigued some, and I had farming and ranching experience, which intrigued others. My background as a 4-H champion in “Home Management” seemed to be a winner in the ‘70s in the Midwest, and I was also a safe choice for a couple of guys struggling with gender choices in their relationships. I guess I was just “wife material,” which prompted marriage proposals. Contrary to what my children assume, I also limited my affections to hand-holding, hugging and kissing, and saved anything more to share with my future husband. Did this increase the mystery and prompt those proposals? I will never know.

ROLL CALL In the fall of 1981, as a graduate assistant at the University of Nebraska, I called roll on the first day of classes. I was teaching a 10-credit Spanish course, a difficult class designed for students who wanted to get through their language requirement quickly. A quick scan told me that most of the students were what you might call older students, those beyond the average 18- to 22-year-old typical undergraduate. “Jeff Mellgren,” I called. I looked up to see a very attractive man sitting next to the wall. He wore jeans, an untucked shirt, and had collarlength, soft brown hair. I fought the impulse to melt right into the classroom floor and continued calling the rest of the names on the list. This particular class met five days a week for an hour, both in the morning and again in the afternoon, providing ample time to know these students quite well. The students also were required to attend language lab several times a week, where I worked as a monitor. One day, I pressed the button connecting the monitor station to his lab headphones. “So, what do you know about t-tests?” I asked. I was studying statistics, a required course for my PhD program.

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Jan/Feb '19

Recognizing Jeff’s depth of knowledge, I initiated a topic we might discuss. T-tests did it. Jeff was intrigued in a way only the exploration of statistics can provide. Soon, Jeff and I were covertly communicating through the lab headphones. We learned about each other, but still maintained the appropriate distance between instructor and student.

THE FIRST DATE We had our first date in December, when we were officially released from our academic roles. Literally 30 minutes after the early morning final exam, we went out for brunch. The following semester, we met often in the Natural History Museum on campus, eating brown bag lunches in front of the stegosaurus and her other dinosaur friends. Our romance quickly developed within view of those dinosaur bones. By March we were engaged, and we married in June. Yes, it was quick. After not accepting 12 other proposals, I accepted this one without a second thought.

WHY HIM? Today, if I ever complain about something Jeff has done, my youngest son will remind me, “Well, if you had taken longer than three months to think about it….” Statistics and Spanish brought us together. It was Jeff’s broad knowledge that convinced me he was the one, not the jeans and brown hair that made me almost melt that first day in class. When people asked, “Why him?” I responded, “If you put a thousand men MILLIE WITH JEFF, THE WINNING PROPOSAL! together in a room, Jeff will be the most interesting man there.” Today, I still think he is the most interesting man in the room. He likes to tell the story: “I had to marry the teacher to pass the course.” Not true. Any student in that course could have assigned Jeff’s final grade: a solid A. In fact, on more than one occasion he raised his hand in class to inquire about something he perceived as a grammatical error in Spanish on my part—and he was always right. And I still married him. Is the 13th time the charm? Or do you just have to kiss a lot of frogs to find the one that’ll become your dinosaur? Millie Park Mellgren is a retired educator and the author of The Language Immersion Life, a recently published book about early childhood language learning. Dr. Mellgren has taught students from pre-school through doctoral studies, but finds her greatest passion with elementary students learning second languages. She also explores art, writing and hiking whenever possible. She lives with her husband, Jeff, on Old Mission Peninsula in Traverse City.

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Grand Traverse Woman

THE

‘Never Again’ CLUB

HOW I FOUND LOVE AFTER 20 YEARS OF BEING SINGLE BY VICTORIA BENSON

FOR 20 YEARS following my divorce, I remained single. I didn’t have time to date; I was busy raising a son and providing daycare for my two little nephews. I was part of the “Never Again” club, and I was okay with it. I never thought the universe had different plans for me, but in 2016, I was remarried. I credit the Blue Angels and Facebook for my departure from the “Never Again” club.

FACEBOOK HATE I have a love/hate relationship with social media. At first I thought it was terrific. People I hadn’t spoken to in decades were coming out of the woodwork to friend request me. It allowed me to connect with and keep in touch with my school friends, both here and back in my home town. “My neighbor’s cousin wants to be my friend? Heck yeah! Junior high bully sent me a friend request? Why not? People can change!” I thought. My giddiness in this technologic wonder didn’t last long. Soon I was sick of the drama and dirty laundry that filled my “feed.” Some people don’t change, I learned. I decided to deactivate my account, and it was nice to take a break.

FACEBOOK LOVE But I did miss seeing photos of my family, now spread out across the country. So I got back on, this time more careful about whom I friended, and I stuck to messaging people to keep in touch. One day I received a friend request that surprised

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Jan/Feb '19

me. Brian? Wow! I didn’t think he remembered me. We grew up together in a small town, and yes, we had known each other since the first grade. His cousin was my best friend, too. But we hadn’t spoken since my dad’s job relocated us to Traverse City my junior year of school. There was no way I’d forget Brian. We sat next to each other in band, often rode the same bus, and he was the little boy who spilled the beans about “the Christmas secret.” That was unforgettable. I was happy to accept Brian’s friend request. Even though we had not spoken in years, decades even, I had kept tabs on him, thanks to his cousin and my friend.

BLUE ANGELS After a short time as official Facebook friends, I saw a theme in his posts. He loved jets. So did I. Boy, did I have the place for him to visit! He couldn’t come to see the Thunderbirds at the Cherry Festival that year, but when I read that the Blue Angels were confirmed for the next, I tried again. “We’re just good friends,” I told my son. Brian and I messaged each other frequently. I learned he was also part of that “never again” club. We talked about music and jobs and traveling, too. He suggested we become travel buddies, and I told him it wasn’t that simple. My health issues made things a little more complex. Not only was he familiar with most of my conditions, but he also had both first responder and firefighter training. He really could handle my

health concerns. Hmm… Still, I insisted that we were just good friends. I couldn’t leave my “Never Again” club, right? I wouldn’t relinquish that membership... or so I thought. Things progressed like they do with any friendship, and before we knew it, we were talking almost every day. I suddenly looked forward to texts and messages and Facebook posts. I enjoyed talking to him, but we were two hours away from each other. Obviously, a romantic relationship couldn’t happen, I thought.

‘JUST GOOD FRIENDS’ One night we stayed up all night long talking, only hanging up as the sun rose. I had never done something like that in my life! Here I was, a 44-year-old woman, all smiles and feeling forever young. “We are just good friends!” I insisted. “Who are you trying to convince, Mom?” my wise son replied. As I said, the universe had other plans. Another night on the phone, Brian said, “What did you do to me? I am smiling. I am looking at my phone, and I’m waiting to hear from you!” My sentiments exactly! Brian was bolder and wiser than I though. He suggested we try a long-distance relationship. “Come on,” he said. “It will be FUN.” He coaxed and encouraged, and eventually (with encouragement from my son), I relinquished my fight and conceded. A long-distance relationship it was.

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Grand Traverse Woman It wasn’t until after seven months of talking that we saw each other in person. Though he had to work, he made sure to come over and finally see the Blue Angels. Although he didn’t know my address, he wound up at a park a mile from my house. We talked, watched the Blue Angels, and hung out.

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After he went home, we realized that we both wanted more. All summer long we traded visits. Soon, he found himself needing to find another job, but nothing was coming up. Because of monetary obligations, he chose to follow work out of state. I was heartbroken. We had finally found each other. We were finally seeing each other in person. I didn’t want him even farther away. In a last-ditch effort, he decided to come to Traverse City to find work. Brian hugged me and told me not to worry. He said he would just find a job here so he didn’t have to leave the state. I told him life didn’t work that way. But, lucky for me, he was right. He didn’t find one job—he found three. He stayed with me during the week and commuted back to his apartment on the weekends. It was real. It was love.

‘MARRY’ CHRISTMAS

THE CONNECTION I still have a love/hate relationship with Facebook, and I still use it sparingly. But it does hold a special place in my heart. If it weren’t for Facebook, Brian and I might not ever have reconnected. We both still love jets, and we go to the airshows every summer. Thank you, Facebook and The Blue Angels for bringing us together, and thank you, universe, for working out the details. Victoria is a certified holistic health consultant, reiki master and teacher. She works from home in the Grand Traverse County region and also offers most of her services online. She can be reached via email at steppingstonesholistichealth@aol.com, or on her website, www.steppingstonesholistichealth.com.

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In November, Brian decided we needed to make a trip to Bronner’s. He knew that Christmas was my very favorite holiday. I continually teased him about how he tried to ruin it in third grade, but really, it just made him memorable. I was thrilled and clappy happy, surrounded by the holiday trinkets. As we made our final lap around the store, Brian stopped and hugged me. There, right in front of a Christmas tree, he proposed. I said yes, of course, and the universe winked. Our families were thrilled for us. We talked about a Halloween wedding the following year. It was my second favorite holiday, and his absolute favorite. But the more we talked, the more we decided we didn’t want to wait. What were we waiting for? We had known each other for so long, and we just clicked. We had been alone for a very long time. It felt right. Christmastime had made him memorable to me, and he’d proposed in front of a Christmas tree, after all. Why not stick to the theme? And that we did. I had talked online to a person I knew through my health support group, worried about being in a relationship due my many chronic health issues. She had been so supportive and, as it turned out, was a wedding officiant. If we could find a place, she agreed to perform the wedding ceremony. A longtime friend of mine had just built a beautiful new deck over the summer. I kindly asked if we could use her deck to hold our wedding ceremony. She agreed. So, on a cold December day, Brian and I were married. It was a tiny private ceremony. Since this was a second marriage for both of us, we didn’t want or feel the need for pomp and circumstance. It was a wonderful weekend. We couldn’t get time off to honeymoon right away, so we planned a summer honeymoon during, you guessed it, the Cherry Festival. Since we started our marriage with family, we decided our honeymoon should follow suit. We watched the Thunderbirds together, mini golfed and just spent time together. After a few days, Brian and I headed out on the road for the rest of the honeymoon. We traveled over 3,000 miles, forged new friendships, and saw unforgettable sights. We especially loved the time we spent at the Kalamazoo Air Zoo.

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Jan/Feb '19 25


Grand Traverse Woman

TWO YEARS AGO I watched my mother die. This article is not about that. I am tired of replaying how she battled Multiple Myeloma’s savage attack on her body and mind. I don’t want to recall how I stood powerless and broken as death snuffed the light from her eyes. I want to talk about how she loved me when I thought I was unlovable. How she championed me when I felt worthless. She spent 60 years on this planet and she shouldn’t be remembered for the last two years of her life. My mother was more than the cancer in her bones. She was more than chemotherapy and radiation. She was laughter and roses, manicures and peanut-butter ice cream. She was open arms and unceasing prayers. Mother-daughter relationships are complicated. I had an especially kind mother, and there were still moments of resentment and anger. There was a time when I rejected her help and prayers. I thought, “I don’t need anyone.” How she loved me during that time, I will never understand. I did not love myself. I did everything to make myself unlovable. Thankfully, she never let up.

MY STRUGGLE My struggle with depression began when I was 11. When I was required to take a placement exam for high school, I still remember sitting in that examination room, so terrified of failing that I could not pick up the pencil. As a result, I barely answered the questions. Those who passed attended the best high schools. They were destined for success, everyone said. What did that mean for me? Things changed in college. No one knew me, and I found myself in the same classes with the students who were “destined for success.” It made me feel hopeful. It’s amazing what hope does to a person—hope made me work harder. My self-worth was tied to my grades and, as my grades soared, so did my confidence. I know better now (on most days), but back then, I was on a high of good grades and the promise of a prosperous future. Then came senior year.

MY CAREER All through college, I had pinned my hopes on joining a popular start-up company. I studied articles about them, attended events, and stalked their job board. Finally, the time came. I applied and waited for the call I was certain would come. It never came. I did not even get through the front door. Of course, with a mountain of student loan debt, I had no choice but to search for a job elsewhere. Everyone said no. I was devastated. I didn’t know what to do. I’d graduated at the top of my class and failure had never entered my mind. Yet, there it was, staring me in the face, my rosy future shattered and with it, my confidence. Soon I was trudging through life with my head down and my walls up. Isolation led to anger. My mother and sisters bore the brunt of my fury. I blamed their high expectations and saw their continued support as nagging. My friends did not fare much better. I envied those who succeeded where I’d failed, and I disliked those who shared my struggle. Church was torture. I wanted God to part the Red Sea, but I found myself drowning instead. When I was forced to sell my belongings and crash on a friend’s roach-infested couch, I decided enough was enough. I was done. I wanted out.

The Night

Love Stayed My Hand BY KERR-ANN DEMPSTER

MY MOTHER One night while on a layover in Chicago’s O’Hare airport, I locked myself in a bathroom stall and tried to down prescription pills. Thankfully, I had no water to wash them down. As I tried to swallow, I spotted my cell phone on the floor. My mother stared back at me from the screen, a smile on her lips and kindness in her eyes. I spat the pills out. Not because I felt life was worth living, but because I could not hurt someone who loved me that much. KERR-ANN AND HER MOTHER, PAM.

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Grand Traverse Woman

Kerr-Ann Dempster is a banker in the Traverse City area. She spends the wee hours of the morning writing fantasy novels and designing book covers and bookish art. Her free time is spent watching Friends reruns, hiking, and eating ice cream at Moomer’s. You may connect with her by visiting www.kerr-ann.com.

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Later that night, I climbed into her bed and confessed what I’d almost done. Despite knowing how much she loved me, I expected anger and disappointment. She held me instead. In that one hug, I knew my mother didn’t care if I wore a suit or an apron. Her love didn’t depend on how many zeroes were on my paycheck. I was stunned. Somewhere deep inside, I had truly believed that she loved me less. I didn’t love me, so I couldn’t see why anyone else would. With tears, my mother told me of her own struggles with depression. Her mother’s rejection had made her feel ugly and unwanted. For years she accepted my father’s cheating and abuse because she thought she wasn’t worth more. I couldn’t believe it. She was the most lovable person I’d ever met. How could she pour so much into others when she had been given so little? It was because Jesus loved us, she said. He didn’t do it because of our accomplishments. He loved us. No expectations. No questions asked. With her help, I began to see myself as he saw me. It was hard and required months of therapy. I have come a long way since then. Though my mother is now gone, the love she poured into me is not. I try to pass it on to others. I miss the mark more often than not, but, since love stayed my hand that night in Chicago, I get to keep trying.

Fo

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Jan/Feb '19 27


Grand Traverse Woman

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Grand Traverse Woman

UP

The Only Way Out Is

Living with 10 Different Personalities & PTSD BY KATHIE MACCHIONI

IT’S HARD to believe that a woman with no military background could have PTSD. But here I am, in the throes of the disorder. This is my story about how I live with ten different Alters and PTSD. My life has been difficult, and often unexplainable, until around the age of 65 when I finally began to find some answers.

NOT PTSD My symptoms were vague at first. They could have been a myriad of things. Anything but posttraumatic stress disorder, or PTSD. Could it be Alzheimer’s? I wondered. How did that cup of coffee get outside? Who left that door open with a 110-pound, newly rescued Mastiff “puppy” to escape? It had to have been me. Next came the jerking seizures. They were incredibly violent and always held the same pattern. My original neurologist lost interest as soon as he realized it wasn’t epilepsy, and my first therapist thought I was experiencing psychogenic non-epileptic seizures, or PNES. Unfortunately, that wasn’t so. Not even close.

SEEKING AN ANSWER My second therapist’s advice ended up being so detrimental, it set me back months. My frustration levels skyrocketed, and my family nurse practitioner suggested I see a psychiatrist. I struggled to find one and found a third therapist instead. He saved my sanity. He saved my life. “You have PTSD and DID,” he told me in a session. “They are related,” he explained. “You suffered a trauma so severe as a child, your brain totally blocked it out.” Wait, what?

THE TRAUMA I learned that dissociative identity disorder, or DID, happens when a trauma is so horrific, the

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brain creates separate identities to endure the pain. It does this, so you can survive. My trauma happened when I was 8, and it involved a relative and his friends on numerous occasions. My DID enabled me to act literally as if nothing happened; I have no recollection of the third and fourth grades because my “alters” completely took over. Mystery solved.

TEN ALTERS Through intense therapy, I have discovered that I have 10 identities, or alters, and they all have a purpose in keeping me alive and sane. They each come with names and ages. Kitty Kat is 6 and loves to swing. She especially loves the swings at Frankfort in January. The 8-year-old, Herman, is the true innocent of all the alters, and he adores trains. Jessica is the escape artist and is weary of strangers. She is always looking for the exit. Cheryl holds guilt and loves pink. Little Kathie is the tomboy who loves snakes. She took the abuse and tries to be strong for me, but she fights me with every step of remembering. She says that I am not strong enough. The 9-year-olds are Lilly, who reads music, and Carolina, who plays the accordion. They are the result of my music teacher who “adjusted” my straps, which explains why after years of lessons, I cannot read music. Another mystery solved. Katherine is the survivor. She has been around since the very beginning. She loves to read. I was also raped at 18, and she blocked it. I was 40 before that memory came back to me. Katherine is my protector and as cynical as they come. She has certainly earned the right to that title. Patty was a late addition. She is 22 going on 23, and she is in love with anyone who has blue eyes. We hide the car keys from her. Samantha showed up out of nowhere. She is what all the others refer to as the “Calmer Downer.” She is 10.

DID The alters come out to my husband Gary, whom they refer to as Big, short for Big Kathie’s Husband. He is the butt of all their jokes and endless questions. They are a pack of rambunctious 8-year-olds, forever stuck in 1957. It’s hard to explain no Saturday cartoons to them, or where my mom and daddy are. But Big is totally honest with them, and he has worked hard to give them back the childhood that I—that they—lost. Each Alter has a purpose and a function. They come out as needed for various situations, and only stay out until that situation is resolved. At times, they may visit when I am at a specific location, or when Herman would come out when I am around anything to do with trains. It isn’t all fun and games. Once at a bookstore, a stranger hugged me. I freaked out to the point I thought that he was my abuser. I ended up as a guest in the mental health unit at Munson Hospital for six days. I did come out with a psychiatrist, so it wasn’t a total loss, and I now have a gorgeous suicide awareness tattoo. I take medication, which helps me sleep when the alters would rather be up, talking and running through my brain. I hear them constantly and we converse all the time.

LIFE WITH PTSD My PTSD will never go away. I cannot remember the last time I could go to a theater. Everyone looks suspect and the exits are all I think about. If I go to a restaurant, my back must face the main dining areas. I go during the off hours, and never during the summer months. The noise is deafening. The absolute saddest part for me is that some friends and family think that I am lying about my conditions, that I am just doing it for atten-

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Grand Traverse Woman

tion. What I would do to have this never to have happened to me and not have been violated by someone who was supposed to love and protect me.

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At first, I didn’t believe it either. What? PTSD? I thought. I was angry. I didn’t understand my destructive path. But then, my whole life made sense. Now it makes perfect sense why at 14 years old I decided to sail a Sunfish in a freighter’s wake. Everything became real. My biggest regret is that my parents died before I was able to tell them what happened. I am forever grateful for my friends and family who understand and don’t judge me, and to my husband, Gary, who always has my back. I am a work in progress, but I won’t let PTSD and DID keep me down ever again. The only way out is up.

Kathie Macchioni lives in the Beulah/Honor area. If you have questions or would like to talk, she can be reached at willowtreeale@ aol.com. Kathie’s husband, Gary Macchioni, recently wrote about his PTSD experience in his book, Letters from a Vietnam Vet: Words I Could Not Write. The book was written in the hopes of helping both men and women with PTSD. You can contact Gary at garybmacc@gmail.com.

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Jan/Feb '19 31


Grand Traverse Woman

Nana,

HOW MY GRANDCHILDREN CHANGED MY LIFE

Come Play! BY LINDA CASWELL

FROM a very early age, I struggled with my weight. During childhood I just didn’t think about it, but in high school, I was made very aware of it. At one point, I weighed close to 290 lbs. As a mother of three, I fought it every day and after every pregnancy. Through life’s ups and downs, I turned to food. When I became a grandmother, I realized I couldn’t keep up with my grandchildren. I was 51 and weighed over 250 lbs. I wanted to be healthier. So, I started to run. There’s no stopping this Nana now.

HIGH SCHOOL High school was a nightmare. At this time I weighed about 225 lbs. I was not a good student, and my six siblings had come before me in the same school. Talk about pressure! One day during my 10th-grade year, I heard some guys say, “Something that big should have a ‘wide load’ banner on it.” When I turned around, I realized they were talking about me. My face turned beet red, and I walked out of the school and went straight home. That was the first time I asked for help to lose some weight. My mother didn’t understand it, but she took me to a doctor for help. He set me up on a diet plan.

HAPPIER AND HEALTHIER Slowly the weight came off, but it wasn’t easy. I was so used to turning to food for comfort, and it was hard not to slide back into that habit. But, by 11th grade, I was in a better place with my weight. I weighed around 190 lbs. By my senior year, I weighed in at about 175 lbs., and I was an all-around happier person. I made the color guard in marching band, I was asked to prom and I graduated feeling like the world was mine. It was a fabulous year.

BABY WEIGHT Two years later, I met and moved in with my now ex-husband. We married in September of 1986 and I had my first child in July 1987. My weight ballooned while I was pregnant and I gained 90 lbs. I was over 285 lbs. I tried, but I simply could not shed all the weight. I was a new mom, a new wife and I was tired. I was working and raising a child and I was not eating well. Baby number two followed two years later in October 1989. This time I gained about 50 lbs. The issue of my weight loomed between my husband and me, and he often told me that I was an embarrassment. The sudden loss of my mother in January of 1990 sent me into a tailspin. I was lost. The grief overwhelmed me and I took solace in food. Baby number three came in 1993. My marriage was crumbling. Very pregnant, I left my husband and moved home.

JUGGLING MOM Raising my three children became my life. I did not date; I worked all the time. I knew my weight wasn’t great, but I didn’t care. Only my kids mattered. Giving them

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LINDA AND HER GRANDSON, ISAAC.

a good life was all that mattered. My oldest daughter suffered a brain tumor when she was 9, and she became moderately disabled. I felt like a failure, and I went back to my old friend, food. My weight ticked up. My kids never said I was fat, and they were never embarrassed to be seen with their mom. My weight lingered right around 225 lbs. My kids grew up and life went on. In March of 2010, when I was 45, I became a grandmother to a grandson. In 2012, his sister arrived. By 2016, I had four grandchildren with number five on the way.

“TOO BIG” NANA I wasn’t a very active Nana. I was just shy of 250 lbs. and certainly in no shape to run around with the grandkids. In the spring of 2016, I was jumping on the trampoline with my grandson Isaac, who, being my first-born grandchild, holds a special bond with me. I tired quickly. Isaac sighed sadly and said, “Nana, you’re just too big to do anything.” That’s when it hit me. I didn’t want to be “too big” anymore. So, I joined a gym and I started to run. I went overboard and ran every day and stopped eating. I dropped to an unhealthy 160, but with a little tweaking of my routine, I put a little weight back on. I adjusted to running three to five days a week, and now I try to keep my weight around 180 lbs.

NOT ALWAYS EASY Running at the gym was not easy for me. I was self-conscious and felt like people were staring, but I pushed through. I had joined a gym that was open 24 hours, so there was no excuse to miss a workout. I hit a wall with my running in early 2017. The weight had stabilized and I wasn’t losing anymore. I was bored, frustrated and ready just to take a break.

NEW MOTIVATION Then one day, a friend of mine who runs 5k races told me I should run one. “It’ll give you focus,” he said. I told my kids and they all laughed and told me I was a little crazy. In my mind, I

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Grand Traverse Woman

felt like they doubted I would or could do it. Not that they didn’t believe in me, but I’d never even mentioned something like this before. So I returned to running, with purpose again.

RACE RUNNING NANA

Do you have Tech Neck from looking at screens?

In April of 2018, I ran my first 5k, the Big House 5K in Ann Arbor. When I first saw the course, I almost quit before I started. It was a three-block uphill start. I truly thought I would die on that hill, but I kept going. Through a race app, my kids were able to track me and cheer me on. And they did just that. When I felt I couldn’t keep running, a cheer would come through that pushed me further on that course. Running down the tunnel and crossing the finish line at the Big House was a dream come true. Being handed a medal at the finish—priceless. My time was 42 minutes; not great, but I did it. Three weeks later I ran my second 5K. My time was 39 minutes. Receiving the second medal was just as special. When I showed Isaac my medals, he grinned. “Nana,” he said, “I guess now you’re the right size to do just about anything!” Sweeter words could not have been said.

NOTHING STOPS THIS NANA I still struggle with my weight. Every day food calls to me. Every day my bed calls to me. Every day sitting and watching TV calls to me. Fortunately, “Nana, come play!” is the call that keeps me moving. Every day.

Common Symptoms: • Neck Pain • Headaches • Migraines • Fatigue • Pain and tingling in the arm • Decreased energy • Fibromyalgia • Insomnia

Linda Caswell lives in Traverse City and is the proud grandmother of seven grandchildren who keep their Nana active. She can be reached at lincas40@yahoo.com.

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Grand Traverse Woman

my instant

Family How I became a mom to three overnight! BY NANCY STOESSEL

THE TRANSITION into parenthood is often gradual. A family becomes pregnant and spends months getting used to the idea. They prepare for the birth and the new baby. They prepare to shift their own lives. They have time. When the baby is born, the family spends the next years getting to know their child. More time. I, on the other hand, am one of the exceptions. I went from a carefree, independent woman to a mother of three children overnight.

FOSTER CARE

A LONG PROCESS The process to become a licensed foster parent was thorough. I jumped through the hoops, did the home study, and took the classes. During foster parent training, I heard stories from actual foster parents and even foster children. It was amazing. Hearing their experiences motivated me even more to take the leap. The staff at CFS was fantastic and helped me throughout the whole licensing process, too. They prepared me for the kind of support they could provide once I received a placement, and at last, I received my license. I was ready to go! Then I waited. I got an occasional phone call of a possible placement, but then it would fall through. Until one day.

THE SPECIAL NIGHT I was out with friends when I received the call. “Nancy, we have an emergency placement of three children, ages 2, 3 and 11. Can you take them, even for just a weekend?” “It’s only me. You realize I’m single. Are you sure?” I first asked. Then, after the initial shock had passed, the word “YES!” came spilling out. I was elated. Wow, what a moment—what a HUGE moment! It is amazing how one word can change everything. I’m not going to lie; I freaked out a little. Here I was, a single person saying yes to taking in three kids. I ran home and cleaned my house as quickly as possible. I called my mom and best friends, and I held my breath. Late that night, at 1:00 a.m., I received a knock on my door that turned my world upside down. Three children stood on my doorstep, wide eyed and scared, and with almost no belongings.

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Jan/Feb '19

PHOTOGRAPHY BY SCARLETT

I’d always wanted to be a mom growing up. But, as time passed, I realized that might not happen for me in the more traditional sense. I researched what other options there were, and then a coworker introduced me to foster care. She was a foster mom who had adopted her child. I lived in a one-bedroom apartment at the time and realized, if I was going to help kids, I needed more room. So, I bought a house. I researched different organizations in our area and was very impressed with Child and Family Services of Northwestern Michigan (CFS) and everything they had to offer. I called and scheduled an interview right away.

NANCY AND HER CHILDREN.

OUR FIRST WEEKEND I became a mom responsible for three amazing little people in the blink of an eye. That first weekend was filled with lots of tears, from both the children and me. I had to learn to take care of not just one child but three, all in different stages of life. I had to do diapers and figure out what they liked to eat and what they hated. Phone calls were made and an outpouring of support from friends descended on us: food, clothes, toys, shoes, toiletries—and all delivered with a smile. After the weekend ended, there was still no home found for the kids. There was discussion of separating them, since there was no other home that could take all three children. “No way, I will keep them together and we will make this work!” I said. By this time, I was already hooked. CFS was there with phone calls and visits to support the children and me. There were so many visits! From CFS, Michigan Department of Health and Human Services (MDHHS), sheriff deputies, attorneys, and many others.

PARENTHOOD Slowly the children and I began to learn from each other. It was a struggle at first. They were scared, and honestly, I was scared, too. They had lost everything and I had lost all independence. I could no longer just pick up and go do something. There were no more nights out with friends. Life became counseling appointments, doctor and dental visits, court hearings, meetings at CFS, and I worked full-time, too. I had to navigate the school system and get the oldest enrolled, and I had

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Grand Traverse Woman to find day care for the younger two. It was a bit overwhelming. However, as time moved on, CFS assisted with different activities for the children and me that helped us bond more. Then came a big visit from CFS. “Would you like to keep the children forever?” the social worker asked. “YES!” I said. I was so in love with these three children. They were my family, and I was theirs.

MOM The adoption process was long but well worth it. CFS assisted with everything, even the adoption fees. When the big day came, we were in court surrounded by family, friends and our CFS support team. There was laughter, so many tears of joy, and a feeling of completeness for me. I never knew it was possible to be so happy, until after court when Tyler, my oldest, called me “mom” for the first time. I had to pull the car over because I didn’t want to crash! I could not contain the tears of happiness that followed. Mom! He called me mom! And now, finally, I really was a mom. Life doesn’t always happen the way we envision it, but I love my “instant family.” Nancy Stoessel is a nurse at Munson Home Health who enjoys fishing, the outdoors, and the occasional nap. For any questions about foster parenting or adoption, email Child and Family Services of Northwestern Michigan (CFS) at cfs@ cfs3L.org.

Join GTWoman! DreamRoom Classic Fundraiser on Feb. 8 When Mike Mahn of Golden-Fowler Home Furnishings, a longtime supporter of Child and Family Services of Northwestern Michigan (CFS), was looking for a new way to support CFS’ mission, the idea for the DreamRoom Classic was born.

THIS YEAR’S CELEBRITIES AND DESIGNERS ARE: Kandace Chapple & Kerry Winkler, Editors, GTWoman Designer: Lauren Nil

The DreamRoom classic matches local celebrities (like GTW’s own Kandace and Kerry) with an interior designer (or two), and each celeb and designer pair creates their own “DreamRoom” inside Golden-Fowler. Anything goes! When the rooms are complete, the public is invited inside Golden-Fowler to vote for their favorite room, every vote cast a donation to CFS.

Jane Deering, Tom’s Food Markets Designers: Heather Mier & Michelle Mitchell

It’s an incredibly fun night! There is an amazing spread of food and drink from local restaurants, wineries and breweries, live music, and one of the biggest silent auctions around. With the event landing near Valentine’s Day, it’s a great date night. Last year the event raised $40,000 and drew hundreds of supporters. This year the money raised will support CFS’ YouthWork program, based on FDR’s New Deal Civilian Conservation Corps, which provides primarily outdoor work-based learning opportunities for youth throughout Michigan.

Teri Gorsline, Editor, Bay Life Magazine Designer: Helayne Marchand Denine Dingeman, Designer and Furniture Upcycler Designer: Teri Stanchfield-Fowler Judy Harrison, Creator, Swing Shift & the Stars Designer: Deborah Chamberlin We hope you will join us for this great cause! EVENT DETAIL Friday, February 8th, 2019 5:30pm – 8:30pm (Doors open at 5:00pm)

Location: Golden-Fowler Home Furnishings (on S. Garfield Avenue in Traverse City)

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231.995.1700 nmc.edu/ees Jan/Feb '19 35


trouble (in the)1412 hood 1713 momma

Grand Traverse Woman

BY KERRY WINKLER

The start of the

hermit crab craze I DID

36

Jan/Feb '19

NELS AND BROOK WHEN THE HERMIT CRAB CRAZE STARTED. CIRCA 2014

friends would not remember my willy-nilly behavior (of course they remembered). I also found a page called HCA: Hermit Crab Association. You know it was serious at this point because I actually joined a forum on crabs. It was bizarre. But I was soon drawn into this world. There were truly dedicated folks out there who made awesome crab owners. I was falling far short of this by quite a bit. One gal had 75! I did the math, 75 x 30 years. NO way. I was out of my league. I posted on the

rescue page—who would take a Michigan crab? I got a reply from someone who lived in Ypsilanti—it was 3 hours and 44 mins away. If I could get it there, he would take it! OK, so approximately seven and a half hours on the road vs. 30 lonely years for him. But wouldn’t that be insane? Who drives seven hours to find a SpongeBob for their Hermit Crab? I decided to wait it out. Day 2: A hit from Canada—too far, clearly. But Mr. Blizzard’s name made it seem like destiny that he’d end up in the north. Day 3-6: Nothing but crickets. Day 7: Finally a woman in Elk Rapids responded! She had kids and a matching lonely hermit crab! She was perfect sounding. And bonus—she’d meet half way. This time I didn’t panic. I knew it was the best for him. Brook and Max agreed too. They said their goodbyes and I headed off to meet his new owner. She happily took him to join her crab. It was the perfect ending! So Day 8: I sat there typing away, feeling a bit lonely looking at the empty table where he sat for all those years. There was only one way to fill that hole….should I get another crab?? Just kidding! I logged into the HCA forum and let sense be talked back into me as I watched 75 crabs living happily… at someone else’s home!

Kerry Winkler is the account director and copublisher of Grand Traverse Woman Magazine. She lives with her 2 teenage kids in Interlochen. She loves being active outdoors. She can be reached at kerry@grandtraversewoman.com.

NORTHERN ART PHOTOGRAPHY

the unthinkable, something I didn’t think I had in me. I re-homed one of my pets. It was not an easy decision until I googled “How long do hermit crabs live?” You are not going to believe this—30 years! Our crab had the potential to outlive my mortgage. I was suddenly imagining myself being tied down in retirement, feeding my crab day after day versus traveling around the mountains, free as a bird. Something had to be done. It all started five years ago when we got our first crab while on a spring break trip to Alabama. Over the years, Brook was enamored by the crabs and we got more. But most passed on after a year or two, except Mr. Blizzard, who was a hardy soul and what eventually prompted me to ask the world wide web his live expectancy. You’d think this would have occurred to me sooner, but no. When faced with a child’s delight, I usually just say, of course, yes! Hermit crabs are social creatures who thrive in colonies. Was I going to get him more friends and face retiring as potentially an old maid with old hermits? Or find him a new home? I decided no more crabs and that it was time to find him friends. I posted on Facebook and got a few questions and hits. Then someone got serious—someone with a tank habitat ready for Mr. Blizzard that DAY. I panicked! Mr. Blizzard was a family member and did represent all things sun and sand (despite his name). I couldn’t do it! I deleted my posts and tried to forget about his lack of mates and my lack of backbone. He’d be fine, I thought. Fast forward several months. It was now the holidays and I had moved my desk from the den to Brook’s bedroom to make space for the Christmas tree. That’s when it began to nag at me again. As I sat there typing away on my computer day after day, I heard Mr. B shuffling around this tank. Alone. Very alone. And looking at me with his big eyes on tiny stems. (The anatomy of a crab was not a plus for him either in my book.) And I’m pretty sure he was depressed. He did the same shuffle from corner to corner and ate very little it seemed. So I gathered my courage and posted on social media again, hoping my

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Grand Traverse Woman

momma 1614

hardware hunt

I’M FINALLY becoming the son my father always wanted: I’m becoming a regular at the hardware store. It started a few months ago. Our neighbors had a snowmobile dying a slow death in their yard, and Nelson finally worked up the nerve to ask if he could haul that thing home and resuscitate it. Imagine his glee (and theirs) as they said yes. Nelson used the four-wheeler to haul it back to our pole barn. Oh dear, I thought, another machine, another set of problems, it seemed. But I was going to be positive. Yes, he would learn so much from this experience. As Nelson tore apart an entire 1986 Phazer, from windshield to gas pump to skis, this machine would be borne again in the hands of a 14 year old. And, I, in the aisles of the hardware store. The first thing Nelson said he needed was two “bushings.” I thought this was a huge undertaking until Nelson explained that bushings are a piece of metal tube, about an inch long and could be found in the 1,000 drawers in the aisle at the hardware store. That’s when I knew it was going to be a huge undertaking.

FIRST STOP We headed to Tractor Supply Co. We needed the “drawer aisle.” I had no idea what I was looking for but we both started pulling drawers. I didn’t have to open every drawer, but something deep inside me said I did. Finally, we went to find a guy in a red vest. We outlined the problem: A snowmobile axle in dire need of a “mod.” We needed a one-inch sleeve of metal called a “bushing.” (I let Nelson say that part.) Yes, yes, he knew just what we meant. “But first,” he said, “let me ask someone else.” We were now the beneficiaries of two red vests. They left us at the customer service desk and returned, one from the east, one from the west and reported that the bushings had been located in the dreaded drawer aisle. Sure enough, we’d overlooked them. We were ecstatic! But, wait. The bushings they had in stock were not big enough. “Try Ace,” they said. Before we left, we picked up a neon orange

Carhartt hat for Nelson and a membership to the TSC Neighbor’s Club for me.

SECOND ATTEMPT We trotted into Ace and found the bushings right away (having learned from our last stop). But, again, we couldn’t find the right size. My need to open every drawer was still strong. Finally, a woman in a red polo appeared with a tape measure hanging from her wrist. I have to admit: I was impressed as she swung it neatly into her right hand and measured the old bushing Nelson handed her. She confirmed our 1-inch quest was correct. And she confirmed they didn’t have any either. “Try Menards,” she said. Before we left, I found a great sale on seasonal décor, and we snagged a wooden turkey and an Ace Rewards membership.

THIRD ATTEMPT Across the road to Menards we went. Their drawer aisle was twice as big and long, running both sides. It was like a long, narrow room, complete with trap doors. It was also crowded with men. I had to straighten my ponytail just a hair, and shove Nelson first down the aisle, to make myself known. “BUSHINGS,” I said, too loud and to no one, “BUSHINGS ARE WHAT WE NEED.” I had no idea what was coming over me. I’m worried I was trying to appear handy. Nelson shut me down immediately. “Mom, what are you doing?” he hissed. He was trying to disappear into his Carhartt, his head going into the shell like a turtle. “I’ll find them myself!” “OK,” I shouted, “BUT I’M HAPPY TO HELP!” I pulled out about 150 drawers with authority, and he totally ignored me. A few men moved away from us until finally, a guy in a blue vest approached with a white and green nail apron tied on his waist. I was starting to admire their outfits, noticing things like ease of pocket access and legibility of name tags. Each store had its own vision. But Menards didn’t have the bushings, not in any of the trap doors. And I had double-checked them all.

“Try DeWeese,” he said. I’d never been to DeWeese, and I couldn’t wait to see their attire.

LAST ATTEMPT We walked into DeWeese without hesitation. At this point, we were all-out authorities on drawer aisles. We found the bushings in a nanosecond, were unsurprised to see they didn’t have one big enough either, and instead dropped the idea (for the moment) and started perusing the shop with interest. I began chatting with the guy at the key counter while Nelson picked out black spray paint to make the old exhaust pipe new again. I picked up a new windshield scraper in neon green and bought “bloody knuckle” lotion for my Dad. He’d be proud to know how I came upon it. But there was one more place to try: We drove home. Nelson four-wheelered up to the neighbor’s again and returned about 15 minutes later with some extra bushings they had, free of charge. How wonderful, I thought, free, right next door, only $10 of gas later. But, truly, I was pleased. I’d just spent an entire afternoon with Nelson doing his thing, watching him chat with handymen and going on a scavenger hunt. Plus, the outfits were stellar. DeWeese, it turned out, wears a selection of black, gray or red shirts. Nowadays, Nelson is always in the barn with his father and I’m always on the outside looking in, usually holding band-aids or a fire extinguisher. But, quite by chance, I’d made myself a part of the team by being willing to drive to four hardware stores in a single day. And I can’t wait to do it again. It turns out hardware scavenger hunts are my kind of thing.

Kandace Chapple is the editor and co-publisher of Grand Traverse Woman. She loves books, mountain biking and family. When her two kiddos, Cookie the dog, or work aren’t calling, she’s out mountain biking on the gorgeous dirt trails of Northern Michigan. You can reach Kandace at kandace@grandtraversewoman.com. Read her blog at www.kandacechapple.com.

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NORTHERN ART PHOTOGRAPHY

The

BY KANDACE CHAPPLE WWW.KANDACECHAPPLE.COM

Jan/Feb '19 37


Grand Traverse Woman

New 2019 GTWoman Media Kit available! Grand Traverse WOMAN

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HOME ISSUE DIY, Empty Nest, Realtors Showcase Edition Ad Reservations due: June 3, Ad Copy due: June 10

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LET IT SNOW! Holiday Traditions, Blended Families, Adventures, Gift Guide Edition Ad Reservations due: Oct. 7, Ad Copy due: Oct. 14

See upcoming themes, pricing info, deadlines, marketing stats & event dates. For more information go to www.grandtraversewoman.com or call/text 231.276.5105

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