The Road to Hell...

I've often heard the old saying, "The road to Hell is paved with good intentions." If this is true, I have laid down some serious asphalt over the years.

You might wonder what brings this to mind.  I received a very thoughtful gift in the mail from the Walter family.  Malia enclosed a personal note in which she commented that she had intended to send this package sooner and that she is much better with ideas than execution.  She could have been writing my biography. (By the way, later is better anyway, then it gets to be the star of the show when it arrives).

I am the unofficial queen of the big idea.  It generally starts small.  The trigger is often innocent- perhaps a gift that would be perfect for someone, or even a pondering, such as how could we get more people to come to Alumni Band?  If it stayed there, the small, infant idea, I could easily pick it up and carry it off.  Seldom does that happen.  Instead, like a child, it starts to grow.

Next, it becomes, "Not only would this be the perfect gift for X, but it would also be great for these three other people..." And then I could get .... for these eighteen other people... and then, and then, and then...

Or, what if we called ever single band alum personally (having attempted this one year, I don't recommend it)? What if we hired a sky writer?  What if... what if...what if?

Soon that tiny idea all swaddled up has burst forth and is now a stampeding buffalo crashing around in my brain.  No one is pulling off this idea, not even with an army of helpers and a flotilla of money.  The original idea, which was usually perfectly good, has been swept away in all the tumult and is likely lost forever.

What does any of this have to do with cancer, or surgery, or recovery, you may wonder.  I cannot say what it has to do with cancer, or surgery, but it has plenty to do with recovery.  Because, not unlike the idea that grows out of control, my desire for improvement knows no bounds.  After that end, I come up with a few ways to speed things up, such as eating better blended meals.  Maybe not just better.  How about the best blended meals anyone has ever prepared in the history of blended meals?  That seems reasonable.

If massage therapy is good, and herbs are good, and physical therapy is good, lets do them all at once.  And make the best blended meals on the planet.  And get the house in order.  And rearrange this, sort through that.  Oh, and celebrate three holidays.  Oh, the Christmas cards aren't done.  Oh, and pick up where I left off on all the other stuff I was doing, only with more ideas because what else is there to do when you are in the hospital for 16 days except think up more stuff to do?  

To paraphrase Malia, I am much better at ideas than execution.  Everyone waiting for a Thank You card probably recognizes that, for sure.

Here are some ideas I don't recommend: oranges in the blender, nuts in the coffee grinder, and wearing anything you are particularly attached to  if you are sitting near me during a meal.  Today's brilliant lunch idea included throwing an orange in the blender with the rest of my concoction.  The connective tissue does not blend well and clogs up the works.  First spray went all over Kelly's briefcase, the Dynavox screen and the table/chair/floor.  Second spray covered my lap and pretty much everything I was wearing except maybe my underwear.  Sigh.  Oh, and the blender doesn't do nuts that well, so I had also tried pecans in the coffee grinder for this same meal.  Pecan butter, anyone?  Sigh again.

If you have known me any length of time (more than a week), I can promise you at some point I had some big idea for you.  I was going to solve whatever problem you had.  I was going to buy or make you the most amazing present ever.  I was going to do something for you that would change your life.  Any of those things ever happen?  No, I didn't think so.  Ideas, not execution.

Maybe if I ever win the lottery, I'll hire an army of helpers to carry out all my "wonderful" ideas.  Barring that, I'll just have to hope that it is true that it is the thought that counts.  I'm pretty sure the paving will continue, even without my tongue.