Amazon Ebook: http://www.amazon.com/Peach-Cobbler-Breakfast
Amazon CreateSpace Paperback: http://www.amazon.com/Peach-Cobbler-Breakfast
Smashwords ebook: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/488522
Only 5 stars?
By ljethrogibbs46 on January 9, 2015
Format: Kindle Edition Verified Purchase
Full disclosure: Sheila and I were classmates at Huntington High School/Huntington WV. That said, I HIGHLY RECOMMEND this book. It touched me in many ways. I esp. enjoyed the quotes sprinkled throughout the chapters. For some reason in this country (much less so in Europe I found) married women will cut off ties with widowed/divorced women who have been their friends for years. Why is this? I do not know. In Europe married & unmarried people can mix/mingle/have dinner, etc. without anyone feeling like they’re a “fifth wheel”. It surely took a huge amount of strength & willpower for her to overcome these tragedies; even more to write about them in so personal a manner. She gave us many quotes in the books. I will give her one in return: during WWII Winston Churchill, in speaking at his old boys’ school, Harrow, told the boys, “Never give up, never give up, never give up!”. This sums up her determination as shown in this book.
– Fred Way/Class of ’64
Norman Cousins said, “Hearty laughter is a good way to jog internally without having to go outdoors.” He was a pioneer in the field of positive emotions and attitudes and how they affect healing or Psychoneuroimmunology ( PNI). In other words, he studied the relationship between the physical body and mind with diseases.
When told that he had little chance of surviving the painful disease ankylosing spondylitis, he checked himself out of the hospital and took his healing into his own hands. He had read that negative emotions can be harmful to the body so he theorized that the opposite should apply; that is, positive thoughts and laughter should have a positive and possibly healing affect on the body. He was criticized when he first presented this theory but today there is scientific proof that laughter may aid in healing and curing diseases.
Studies prove that laughter raises spirits, relieves stress and involves the entire physiology of the body. Lab experiments show that laughter affects the respiratory system, the cardiovascular system, the muscular system, the central nervous system, the endocrine system, and the immune system. It releases endorphins which are the body’s natural painkiller and produces a feeling of well-being.
As I proceed through my mourning period after the death of my husband, I am only vaguely aware of Norman Cousins’s work; but, I know my body and myself. I know that in order to establish a new life for myself I must come out of this dark tunnel physically, mentally, and emotionally intact. I must not let the negatives and my detractors get me down. I reason the best way to navigate the treacherous waters is with a clear mind and a bright spirit.
The best way to achieve a clear mind is to concentrate on the beauty in the world; and the way to a brighter spirit is through laughter. I force myself to smile, even when I want to cry. I give myself permission to have fun, enjoy friendships, and laugh at myself and the world around me. I know this is what my husband would have wanted. He would never want me to have a lonely and bitter life.
I’m learning to look at the world in a different way—to find humor wherever and whenever I can. I know I can’t get rid of the pain but I can learn to control it and modify it with humor. I must manage my problems and not let them take control of me.
A good laugh is also an excellent way to pull yourself out of a depression. I feel the need to surround myself with as much humor as possible to keep my mind off the negatives in my life. I decide to join a clown ministry. I relish the opportunity to go outside myself and help others laugh and find happiness and joy, even for a moment. When we help others, we make them and ourselves feel better. There is nothing like entertaining others and helping those in need to help yourself forget your own problems.
I make several decisions early in the grieving process that will shape my recovery process and my life from here on:
I will laugh, sing, dance, work hard and do what needs to be done to escape from myself and the sadness and pain within. I will live a happy and meaningful life.
**Excerpts from Peach Cobbler for Breakfast—surviving a life-altering event.
Produced by Rick Lakin
Photographed by William Bretthauer
“Peach Cobbler for Breakfast” was delicious. It began very upbeat and continued with an easy to read style as though the author was talking to me. Her emotional roller coaster from grief to happiness and suggestions on how to recover from painful losses made good sense to me since I am recovering from the loss of my beloved son. Soon I will gladly be sharing this necessary book with my friends in a bereavement group.
Strategy is defined as: a careful plan or method especially for achieving an end. When I was newly widowed I can’t say I had a strategy for overcoming my all-consuming grief; I just fell into it. I just knew that the ultimate end I wanted to achieve was to once again feel like a whole person; one without pain or regrets.
My immediate goal was to once more feel happiness. Therefore, my first conscious decisions were ones that made me feel good, made me smile, or gave me some happiness. The best advice I ever received came from my doctor who said:
Grief takes time. There will be well-meaning people with all kinds of advice; but don’t do anything you aren’t comfortable with. There are many stages of grief and you must give yourself time to grieve. Eventually, you will find you will move into another phase without even thinking about it; but that takes time.
Scientists like to put things into neat little packages and some have even categorized the grieving process. Perhaps the most well known is the Kubler-Ross model designed by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross who was the first to put the grieving process into stages. The stages of grief, in no particular order, are:
There are other models as well but they all recognize the range of powerful emotions involved when we suffer a great loss and the process of moving through the different stages.
The most important thing to remember is that grieving is a very personal journey and each person experiences it differently. There is no particular order of the stages and we may experience one stage one day and go to another the next. There is also no time table. Some people recover from their loss much more quickly than others. However, if you find yourself stuck in one stage and unable to go on then it might be time to seek professional help from a mental health professional, doctor, or clergy. Sometimes it helps to just talk it out with a friend but be careful to not let that friend force you into an action that makes you uncomfortable.
Morie Schwartz, the subject of Mitch Album’s best-selling book, Tuesdays with Morrie, said “Dying is only one thing to be sad over.…Living unhappily is something else.” The journey through grief is difficult but the final result is worth it.
It has been said that if you take a lump of coal and subject it to extreme pressure over a long period of time you will have a beautiful diamond in the end. If you are undergoing a loss or difficulties, remember that you are just a diamond in the making.
Sheila Dobbie has been writing most of her life beginning with her first published piece in the fourth grade for her elementary school newspaper. She has contributed countless articles over the years to area newspapers about the arts, edited a professional environmental publication, has been a lobbyist for the arts in the schools, and a PR director and founding member of a community arts association.
Ms. Dobbie is also a former English and journalism teacher, construction reporter, entrepreneur, and certified paralegal. As a free-lance writer, she assisted with the research of a book about the Scots at the Alamo and many other projects. Regarding her nom de plume, she says, “I write under my full name to honor those who were an important part of my life when I carried that name and who helped shape who I am.”
She lives in Columbus, Ohio with her husband, John, a dog and a cat. She maintains a blog, Notes from the Pond—in the spirit of Walden, where she records her observations on everything from politics to nature to movie reviews. Visit her at
Special Thanks to Sheila’s high school classmate Gary Watts for sharing his thoughts on Peach Cobbler for Breakfast
Congratulations Sheila !!!!! I wish you all the success in your recent book and I am going to go to Amazon.com and am going to buy a copy today.
I have also been fortunate enough to have been published last year and copies are also available at Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble,
110 countries and thousands of libraries’. Now if we could just get a few of the ’64 graduates to buy 1 copy each, we could give our
grand kids a nice Christmas. My book is available on my website:www.100marketingtradesecrets.com and is $9.95. It is on sale
(Kindle Edition) on Amazon.com at a 23% discount thru Christmas at:
and B&N: at a 14% discount at http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/100-marketing-trade-secrets-for-any-business-gary-l-watts/1113983973?ean=9780741481528
And I want to express my appreciation (in advance) to those of you who will purchase our works. It has really been great for me to reconnect with so many wonderful
people from my past…….. you the class of ’64 ….rock !!!
I have only read a few pages and have to say, you are to be commended — no that’s not right. You are one strong woman to have survived those early ’90’s. I don’t know if I could have done it and I consider myself pretty strong — having survived my 1st wife and Viet Nam. But, they don’t even come close to your grit. I know the book was also part of your healing and rebirth because it is no easy process to produce and publish. I truly wish you the best, and it will take me some time but I will read it and I’m sure enjoy it. It (you) are an inspiration. Congratulations. Best. Gary
“Faster than a speeding bullet! More powerful than a locomotive…” This quote is immediately familiar to Superman fans of all ages; but, these were the only words I could think of as I heard the diagnosis of cancer time and again in a two year period.
This disease had invaded our family faster than a bullet and had decimated it with the force of a powerful locomotive and now I needed the strength of a superman to survive.
When I was in my 40s I went through the worst time of my life. In a two year span I lost six family members, including my father and husband within six months of each other – my father to a brain tumor and my husband to bladder cancer. It is difficult to explain to anyone who hasn’t been through a similar experience what it feels like to lose the center of your universe.
I will spare the reader and myself the pain of reliving every detail of that time. At a time when my friends were planning high school graduations, colleges, and weddings for their children, I was planning or attending funerals. I was angry at the world, afraid of the future, and confused.
Much of the time I was in a state of shock, numb to both joy and pain. I seemed to live day to day in a haze trying to cope with each crisis as it came along. Once you have been hit by a speeding train and endured the pain of impact you become numb to repetitive shocks. I do not mean to minimize the magnitude of the events but rather to put everything into perspective. Things, literally, could not get much worse. Everyone I loved had been touched in some way by the catastrophic events surrounding us.
Perhaps our bodies learn to insulate us against pain, death and sorrow so we can carry on. We learn we can make it through one day and then the next and we continue living our lives one day at a time until we eventually make it out of the dark valley. It may be like living as a zombie but it works.
An old Chinese proverb says, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.” I repeated this to myself many times when the journey looked too difficult or I didn’t have the energy to continue. I reminded myself that I didn’t have to do the whole journey in one day and, if all I could do that day was take one step, then that was all that was needed.
I kept the pain to myself and put on my happy face when going out into the world. I did my crying in the shower so my husband didn’t know how worried I was. I tried to keep positive for him and others. A morbid curiosity surrounds people with a debilitating or fatal disease. It’s almost as if people are searching the faces of the patient or his loved ones for any sign things are getting worse. I wanted to be sure people saw only signs of hope in my face so I applied my smile each morning along with my makeup and faced the world with a façade of confidence.
David and I met at church when I was 15 and he was 17. We dated throughout high school and college and then married after dating for seven years. We fell in love to Moon River by Andy Williams and Today by the New Christy Minstrels, held hands during My Fair Lady and Sound of Music, cheered our losing football team at Marshall University and stole a kiss whenever possible. When we finally did get married there was a large clap of thunder just when the minister pronounced us man and wife and everyone said it was the man upstairs saying, “It’s about time!”
It was during the turbulent 60s and it seemed that our lives were in as much turmoil as the rest of the world, but we finally realized our goals of graduating from college. There were the pressures of college, work, integration, bussing, demonstrations, drugs, flower power, communism, the bomb, and the ever-present and growing disruption of the Vietnam War (or as some preferred–conflict). It certainly “conflicted” our lives because if the guys didn’t keep up a certain GPA, dropped out of college, or didn’t finish within the expected four years, then there was the draft to look forward to. One professor said almost daily, “You guys better study or you will be slogging around in the rice paddies.” We swore he was a recruiter for the draft board.
After graduation and a brief stint with Uncle Sam, we were finally free to strike out on our own. We headed for the big city of Columbus, Ohio, which seemed perfect for us. It was three hours from home, which meant it was close enough so we could get home quickly in case of an emergency, and far enough away so relatives couldn’t drop in unexpectedly. I think those were my Dad’s words.
My first visit to Columbus was something right out of The Jetsons’ cartoon when my family, David, and I attended the Ohio State Fair in 1962. At the time it was perhaps the largest state fair in the country. We drove into the city on one of the first interstate highways I had ever seen and whirling above the city were helicopters whizzing by. This was all very new and exciting for a kid from the hills of West Virginia. As we left late that night, fireworks were bursting over the city and I felt as if I had been to the City of Oz. I immediately fell in love with Columbus and when David and I married a few years later we decided that was the place for us.
Armed with our degrees and naïve enthusiasm we headed for the big city – he to become an architect and I a teacher. We found jobs and changed jobs, we made money and lost money, we started and closed businesses, we loved and we fought. We had the usual ups and downs and disappointments most people go through but, through it all, we said that the only thing that mattered was that we had each other. We felt we could survive and conquer almost anything as long as we were side by side.
All too quickly 23 years of married life passed and it became apparent that David would not survive the bladder cancer that had stricken him at age 45. As I watched him during those last days in the hospital I thought of the good times we had but also of the hectic life we had led. Where did it get us? I would gladly give up everything to know he would continue by my side forever. Why hadn’t we taken more vacations or weekend trips? Why hadn’t we found more time for just us? Life is too short.
For the first time I had to face the world alone. I may not be Superman but I will survive this hell.
Become a good noticer. Pay attention to the feelings, hunches, and intuitions that flood your life each day. If you do, you will see that premonitions are not rare, but a natural part of our lives.
It was a wonderful vacation with our good friends, Kevin and Margie, filled with sun, fun, surf and turf, and margaritas. But I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. Maybe it’s just the eerie darkness preceding the storm coming in from the mainland.
As we cross the Intracoastal Waterway Bridge leaving our favorite beach island to return home, it looks as if we are spiraling directly into the storm clouds. I can’t suppress the shudder that suddenly shakes my body. “This is silly,” I tell myself. “You are being overly dramatic with the dark clouds ahead.” Little did I know that my reactions were, perhaps, a premonition of what was to come. There would be a time I would long to return to this moment.
Life is good. David, my high school sweetheart, and I have been married for 20 plus years. We live in our dream house that he designed, he has a promising position with a leading engineering/architectural firm, and plans are in the works to make him a vice president. We have many good friends, a church that feels like our home away from home, and a loving family.
Life has not always been so fulfilling. There were disappointments with several failed businesses, job changes, money problems, and the inability to have children. But, we all have our problems and we viewed ours as no different from anyone else’s. We can weather anything together.
Shortly after returning from vacation, David complains of a recurring bladder infection he has had since spring. When he calls in a refill for the antibiotic, he decides to revisit the doctor for a more thorough exam. The doctor orders a brief surgical procedure called a “cystoscopy” and we schedule it for the upcoming Monday. The procedure will be done as an out-patient but will require some sedation as they insert a scope through the penis and into the bladder.
Long ago we had planned a last hurrah, warm weather get-away for the upcoming weekend with Kevin and Margie to take in the fall colors around Lake Erie. We couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful weekend. The weather was warm with a slight tinge of autumn in the air – one of those rare perfect days. The trees were brilliant colors of gold, orange, yellow, and florescent green splashed against a sapphire sky while Lake Erie glistened in the background like an array of Swarovski crystals. We laughed so much our sides hurt as we bounced around Kelly Island in a golf cart. On our return trip we stopped at local farmers’ markets to stock up on pumpkins, apples, Amish cheeses, and apple butter.
Kevin and Margie are good friends we met at church. We sing in the choir together, enjoy going to restaurants, and vacationing together. David and Kevin hold down the bass section and usually find some kind of mischief to get into and Margie is secretary to the minister, Rev. James. In addition, Kevin is treasurer for the church and I am president of the Board of Trustees. The one rule we have when we travel together is no church business allowed.
Early Monday morning I drive David to the hospital and we hope to be home by lunch time. I wait in the overcrowded and overly hot waiting room. I wait and wait. It occurs to me that I have never met this doctor and perhaps he called for me but I missed him while trying to avoid the noisy and rowdy kids playing on the floor. The hospital is remodeling and it seems that most of the hospital’s population has crowded into this dusty, dirty, dingy 12’ x 12’ room.
Finally my name is called and a short, foreign doctor rushes up to me and begins talking. I don’t understand his accent; but, since he does not take me into the conference room, I expect to hear that everything is fine. But, different words are coming out of his mouth.
What did he say? Did he say the word “tumor”? Surely that is a mistake. Did he say they are keeping him overnight for observation? When and where did he say I could see my husband?
The doctor is gone just as suddenly as he appeared and I’m left in a daze. I feel faint and confused. I have to get out of this room and away from the chaos. I’m shaking and suddenly feel hysterical. I have to calm myself. I begin walking and taking deep breaths.
Although I want and need some comfort, I decide not to call my parents and upset everyone until I know more (both of David’s parents are deceased). I call Margie and she and Rev. James rush to the hospital. While waiting for them to arrive, I am directed to another floor where David will be admitted. I wait. I notice it is raining and the drops running down the dirty windows match the ones running down my cheeks.
Rev. James and Margie soon arrive and it is good to see their friendly faces. Rev. James is a former college football lineman and a big man with broad shoulders (literally and figuratively) and curly white hair. They are a welcome sight and exactly what I need right now.
By the time they bring David to his room the initial shock has worn off and we are there with smiling faces to greet him. Rev. James always has words of comfort and a joke or two so by the time they leave I am fine, David is OK, and the world is back on its axis.
Tomorrow David’s company is having a big reception to announce some re-organizational changes and among those changes is his promotion to vice-president.
I arrive at the hospital early to bring David home. We wait and wait. We begin to get uneasy because David needs time to get ready for the reception. I’m beginning to think I don’t like this doctor. Finally the doctor comes and, with the door wide open, he flings the covers back exposing David to all the world to remove the drainage tube from his penis. Now I know I don’t like this doctor!
Because he can’t drive for a short time I drive him to the reception. I watch him walk in and am very proud of him. It looks like our hard times are almost behind us.
About a week later we return to the doctor for the test results. He calls us back and we stand in a hallway as he casually leans against a file cabinet and tells us there was a mushroom shaped tumor; but they removed it. He tells us they will watch David every three months and if it recurs they will use a laser to remove the mushrooms.
I’m confused and am not sure if this is a good thing or not. Is it cancer? I ask about chemo and he says chemo is not needed. The atmosphere is easy and relaxed and the doctor seems upbeat and positive. We are not worried and we go to a Japanese restaurant to celebrate our good luck. I wish I had kept the fortune from the fortune cookie that night.