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Strong in Minnesota

By Sheri LeClair Banitt

What does it mean to be strong in Minnesota? It means so much more than it used to mean. It means that it is no longer enough to withstand the long, dark months of cold and snow in the winter. It means that in addition to the harsh weather, we must also guard our hearts from the danger of empathy fatigue and protect our innermost human thoughts and feelings from distortion and exploitation.

Gone are the days of bemoaning Cabin Fever, where winter temperatures are below zero with windchills in the negative 30-to-45-degree range. We no longer see this as the leading challenge. Schools are closed, cars won’t start, furnaces shut down, water lines break, people and animals experience frostbite within minutes of exposure to the elements and the sun disappears for days. More time is spent indoors watching television and perusing social media. And that leads us to where we are now, needing more strength than ever, just to get through each day.

There is no shortage of social/civil issues to contemplate. There are two very different explanations for the problems in Minnesota including rhetoric rife with buzzwords and emotional triggers designed to fuel anger, confusion and division. Minnesotans are called on to decide what is legal, illegal, or constitutional, and choose a side with the expectation that you are either right or wrong and will be judged now and in eternity.

The world is watching Minnesota to see our response to fraud, investigation, infiltration, coercion, and persecution. Very few Minnesotans are politicians or lawmakers but are yet held accountable to know and understand all the minutiae of the constitution and American history over the last 200 years.

Minnesotans are asked to take a stand now, in the public eye and declare to the world our values and beliefs. This can mean turning away from previously held views, it can mean walking away from family members, disagreeing with employers and those in power and becoming vulnerable in the most complete and frightening ways.

Being strong in Minnesota requires enough grit to endure the cold, harsh days of winter while simultaneously keeping hearts warm enough to care for all, kindness for the least of all, and room for collaboration and compromise with all. Strong in Minnesota includes hope and the belief that better days are coming.

Room for Change

By Sheri LeClair Banitt

As 2025 comes to an end, I am reflecting on all the changes for me since this time last year.

Christmas 2024 was the first year for our family without my husband of 43 years. We still celebrated, but it was subdued and while we missed him, we didn’t talk about him much. This year feels different. Grief is with us, but so is joy and laughter.

2025 held many challenges for me, some more serious than others. I learned about grieving a lost loved one as well as a job lost to retirement. I have transitioned to independence and a slower pace. Above all, I have learned to let go of old expectations and make room for change. You really cannot move forward without leaving some things behind.

I will always grieve the loss of my husband, though it is consuming less of my daily focus. At first, I thought I would always grieve leaving the workplace. I truly loved my job, my employer, the people I worked with and the mission we were on, so it was hard to walk away. It was absolutely the right time and the right thing for me. Just five months into retirement I feel calm and at peace.

Corporate culture is win/lose, no matter how the story is spun or what label is put on it. Capitalism demands that everyone competes, even when that means some will profit and some will not. As the world recovers from the Covid 19 pandemic and steps into the lure of AI, corporations are operating in fear mode.

The race to utilize AI is all consuming and policies are written with that in mind. I have seen an increase in focus on mental health resources, emphasis on diversity, equity and inclusion as well as support for young professionals. I have seen older employees retiring in droves under the age of 65 as work has become more progressive, more demanding and less appreciative of knowledge gained by experience.

To be sure, AI is coming to all aspects of our lives, not just the workplace. I support provision of mental health resources and align with support for diversity, equity and inclusion and young professionals. I do wonder how all these young people in the workplace will fare with policies that support their well-being and work that does not.

With the emphasis on doing more, better and faster with less effort, people from management to entry level are afraid of losing their jobs. So, they get on board the frenzy and try to find ways to use AI while supporting all the other corporate initiatives. They’re on social media and posting about their good works, using AI bots to brag about it. They talk about good leadership as though humans are infallible. No one is teaching people how to talk to each other to resolve differences. Instead, AI bots are used to send emails and create internal communications. This may save time, and seems professional, but in my experience, using a digital entity to manage human behavior and emotions is taking a toll on the mental health of those in the workforce. People are often suspicious of true motives and mistrust what they see and read.

Getting out of the corporate world has given me a clearer vision of my purpose and how I can fit into a changing world. After working more than thirty years, I am able to use my savings to live a simple life. I can contribute to the world in creative ways that benefit individuals and me. I am no longer in a race to be better, smarter, leaner and more efficient than my colleagues.

I have let go of many expectations that are no longer valid for me. I will not reach my eighties with my husband. I will not continue working until I am 67. I will not share the responsibilities of home and family with a longtime partner. Mourning the loss of these things, confirms their value and reinforces my thankfulness for having had a wonderful husband and a job I loved.

Going into the new year, I will have neither a husband nor a job and I’m okay with that. I have lovely memories with an open heart and mind for new things to treasure. I will remember that good relationships and endeavors take time to find, build and grow. My age gives me the unique advantage of knowing the old ways, before computers, and living the new ways of technology. I can recognize the good and bad parts of each time and connect the dots to either avoid or encourage outcomes.

For the younger folks, and those dependent on employment, I recommend using your time away from work to reflect on what is important to you. As the world continues to change at a rapid pace, you will need to let go of expectations that no longer fit your current situation. When you do that, you make room for change, and that is where your genius and your happiness will be found.

Christmas Prep Another Day

By Sheri LeClair Banitt

Surprise endings are hard to manage, but I have always been flexible, resilient and persistent. To anyone who is going through a hard time, my advice is to just lean in, feel it, let it be, and this too shall pass. You will be different at the end of your journey with wisdom to share.

On the 3rd of December, it is snowy and cold in Minnesota. That is nothing new. What is new for me is that I am a RECENT WIDOW and now RETIRED with many hours to fill.

While most people are prepping for Christmas, I am in a holding mode for now. Here are the challenges I am facing.

Waiting for a home remodel project to begin any day that involves much de-construction, dust and commotion.
Providing foster care for a 14-week-old kitten who thinks I’m his momma. he follows me everywhere and has learned how to start the dust buster.
Family situations have changed, and I will not be hosting large numbers this holiday.

Today, I want to be positive and productive, so I planned my day accordingly. Instead of baking or decorating the house, I used my little electric snowblower to clear the backyard pathways for the shivering dogs to do their business. The snow is still fluffy and sparkly, and it felt good to be out in the crisp air moving around. I have a service to do the driveway and front walk because a little of this goes a long way.

I thought about going shopping and remembered something I heard on a Tik Tok: “You don’t need stuff, you’re just bored”. Seems spot on. Decided to organize the pantry instead and came across some Almond Butter and Peanut Butter. Great day to do a taste test. They are both delicious, both produced in the United States, and both provide protein and healthy fats and minerals. I wonder how long it will take me to eat all this butter.

For the afternoon, I have planned to go to the Fitness Center for a workout, followed by other indoor activities. I will likely do some laundry, vacuuming and work on a small crochet project.

These quiet slow days of retirement leave me a bit unsettled, but I am enjoying this time while I think about what will come next. After more than 30 years of working and 43 years of marriage, I do not want to rush into any new commitments. Rather I am enjoying just being a human and visiting with family. I have more time to make new friends and reconnect with old ones.

Christmas will come whether I bake and decorate or not. So, I will remember the words of the poem How the Grinch Stole Christmas written by Dr. Suess, when the Grinch realized that “Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more”.

Enjoy your day!

Exercise to Overcome Grief

By Sheri LeClair Banitt

Most of the cliches I have heard about grief and grieving are true. Some are misleading and some are just disappointing. Like, “Time heals all wounds”. That is not what we want to hear when we are hurting; we want healing now. The closest thing I have found to instant healing is exercise.

I lost my husband of 43 years in June of 2024. That October I joined our local Snap Fitness gym and signed up with a personal trainer. I was grasping for something to keep my mind off my loss and improve my health. I did two, one-hour sessions each week. Those first weeks were difficult. I had been sedentary and worked at a desk for 30 years, so I had to relearn how to move and use my body. https://www.snapfitness.com/us

In the beginning, I was sore and tired and not always able to do what I wanted. That is where it was good to have a trainer. He never got discouraged, never criticized and never lost faith that I could do it. I remember doing strength work on the machines and looking at the illustrations showing the muscle groups that would be activated. I was not feeling it in those target groups because I was tense, confused and not breathing deeply. Often, I felt strain in my neck or gritted my teeth. Nonetheless, at the end of every session, I felt good, even when I was bone tired. I would walk out feeling accomplished and a little less focused on my loss.

After a couple months of working out, I joined a wonderful group called GriefShare that was led by people in my local community who have also experienced the loss of a loved one. It was helpful to meet with others, talk about our experiences, learn what to expect, and what is normal as we move through the grief journey. https://www.griefshare.org/

Over the next year, I continued to learn about my grief and work out a couple times weekly. I began to notice I had better balance and more strength when doing yard chores and household work. That was much appreciated as a new widow learning to manage many things my husband used to do. Each time a I had to try something new, I had the courage to start. I don’t think I would have felt that confidence without the body work I was doing. While I still have work to do, and want to get to a healthier weight, I have already lost 12 pounds without changing my diet and dropped a size. After losing a loved one, life can feel scary and unpredictable. Doing the exercise gave me a sense of control, at least for that time in the gym.

Recently, I was feeling so good, that I signed up for an 8-week group workout challenge. Oof. It was a challenge. I learned stretching, cardio, and deadlifting. I began to stretch and strengthen my neck, back and shoulders by doing some back lifting. At first, I could not even do the exercises because my brain lacked the sequencing needed to match the movement. It was so great when one of my workout buddies told me, ” I cried sometimes when I could not do this a year ago. But now I feel very comfortable and can do all the Pilates and I’m getting stronger”. I had to do some of the lifts with just the bar and no weight until I could do the movement with the correct form. I made slow progress, but I left each session feeling happy, tired, sore, and in control.

Life has continued to surprise me with challenges. A change at work prompted me to retire in August. The day after my retirement celebration, my mom fell at home and broke her wrist and hip. That was the beginning of two months of rehab for her and me caring for my dad while he was on his own at the senior living community where they live. While I craved a consistent schedule to mimic the work hours I was used to, I could not do that because I was needed to help at odd hours. But I could still exercise, because Snap Fitness is open 24/7. My workout routine was not as often as I wanted it to be and sometimes not as intense as I intended, but I kept doing it. I love walking into the gym and seeing familiar fixtures and faces. I have made new friends at a time when I needed connection. In working through grief, loss, life and exercise, I have found that sometimes the steps are smaller and the progress slower than you wish, but the movement forward is what is most important.

I am going to continue to move forward because I am stronger, healthier and ready for the next chapter as I manage big emotions.

P.S. Now I can feel the burn in all the right muscle groups, and I have added weights as well as gained more flexibility.

Lace Crochet

By Sheri LeClair Banitt

I remember working on this lace tablecloth in the mid to late 1990s, a time when I was working and raising two young girls. I had made one in the Queen Anne’s lace pattern for my grandma and a different pattern for my mom. This tablecloth was going to be for me. It was size 20 cotton and a size 1 hook. Once you know the pattern, it is a mindless distraction while you watch television or during any seated delay like a doctor’s waiting room.

I pulled it out of a drawer today and wondered what stopped me from finishing it. It measures 50″ x 30″ now. When I saw the coffee stains, I realized they were the showstopper. I must’ve put it aside thinking I would soak out the stains another day. And here we are. Another day, thirty some years later.

Moving an unfinished project from here to there for thirty years seems a bit lazy. But crafters know the toll lace crochet takes on hands and fingers. For me, keeping this one was more like an exercise of hope and optimism. Surely the day would come when I had time to fix and finish this piece.

Today is the day. But as with the passing of time, comes the wisdom of age. I am no longer the young woman who started this piece and my hands and arms boast arthritis as testament to my past fervor. Anything I make now must have clear and finite rules for utilization and completion.

I will wash and remove the coffee stains, and this dresser scarf will be finished!

The Second Goodbye

By Sheri LeClair Banitt

The first goodbye was the day he died. My husband’s death took us by surprise when he passed away during a medical procedure. He was a long-time smoker, and it was discovered during a bronchoscopy that he had lung cancer. The cancer burst an artery, and the bleeding could not be stopped; he died quickly. I travelled an hour to the hospital to identify his body and say goodbye. It was traumatic and I felt robbed of the chance to really speak my love, loyalty, apologies and gratitude for all the years together.

I spent the next days, months, and year working through my grief and purging his things that I would no longer need or use. I saved some of the special clothes, his lunchbox, his work boots and jacket. I gave some things to family, donated what I could and threw out some things, like small tools, random nails and screws, bits of wood and such that he would never get around to using.

I kept his truck. It held so many memories of him and happy times. He was man who loved his truck, and he always had one. He used it to haul horses, go hunting and run dogs, drive through heavy snowfalls and move loved ones from place to place as needed. He always listened to KQ radio and had many CDs in that old truck. And of course, anywhere he was, you could find Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup wrappers; lots of them.

So many conversations were had in his truck and past pickups that he owned. We rode in Big Red from his funeral to the burial. You could not think of him without the image of him in the truck with a cap on and eating candy.

When I sold the truck today, it was the second goodbye. Another hard milestone where I felt cheated of the chance for a face-to-face discussion. But life goes on, and now someone else can love that old truck. I said goodbye to the living proof that he was here and now I will rely on the pictures in my mind and my heart.

The third goodbye will be when I sell the home we shared for 31 years. But I’m not going anywhere yet, I’m not ready to meet that milestone.

Adventures at the Gym

By Sheri LeClair Banitt

Life has given me many opportunities to pivot recently. With many things out of my control, I have been focusing on the things I can control and looking for new ways of being.

Shortly after my husband died unexpectedly, I realized I needed something to give me a lift when other things were definitely pulling me down. That is when I joined a gym and signed up for an hour of training, 2 days each week.

The first few sessions with Javier were awkward, frustrating, and exhilarating at the same time. It had been so long since I paid attention to my body and movement, so it was surprising to see where I had to begin. But he calmly showed me what to do and explained the correct form. He laughed when I laughed and cried when I cried but always kept me working on the task at hand, even when I reminded him that I had no muscles.

I stopped training with Javier to focus on work as we went back to the office three days a week but kept my gym membership. I continued to work out once or twice weekly. I was maintaining but not progressing with my fitness.

Fast forward to today. I am retired and have more time to focus on me. Now I have decided to get out of my mind and into my body. I joined an 8-week, one hour each week, group training session. There are four of us ladies working to be healthier and stronger selves. We are working on balance and flexibility. Whew! It is hard. I am sore after every move and sometimes it takes a few tries to even do the moves!

Trainer Sarah says her goal for me is to change my self-talk from negative to positive. Thanks Sarah, I like that plan and I will work on it, especially when my negative self-talk comes out as humor. Because while humor is fun, my brain believes the literal and if my self-talk magnifies my fears and weak points, I won’t make the progress I am looking for. And I do want to progress. I want to feel strong and healthy in all circumstances.

The assignment for me is to keep an exercise log. I should write down what I did and how it made me feel. Sarah says I will see changes over time that will validate all the work I am putting into my health journey.

Here’s my first log entry: August 7, 2025. I woke up early worried about my training session. There were things I wanted to do last week that were hard and I was sore for a few days afterward. To build up my courage to go, I told myself I could always stop if it was too hard. I got to the gym a few minutes early and hopped on a treadmill. I was able to do one thing this week that I was afraid to do last week, and it was fine. I did all the exercises and stretches even when they were hard. I felt good leaving and plan to do cardio every other day and strength training the other days.

Cheers to the mind/body connection.

Embracing Change: My Journey to Retirement

By Sheri LeClair Banitt

The only thing constant is change. But then why does it come as a surprise? Recent changes at work demanded I make a decision. I chose peace, I chose calm, I chose me. I will retire after 15 and a half years with my current employer, and over 30 years as a working adult.

I did not want to retire now because I am just starting to heal after my husband died suddenly a year ago. I have always loved working and truly love my current employer and the job I am leaving. I don’t think waiting longer would make the leaving easier, but it may have given me more time to process and consider the upcoming changes.

I have so many great memories of my working life. I have enjoyed all of my jobs, all of the people I worked with and all the hubbub of getting ready, getting there, doing the job, and going home. From the office potlucks to the well wishes after I broke my arm, to working from home during the pandemic, I loved it all. I would not trade a minute of it for anything. I hope I am thought of kindly and that I have made a difference to the ones who made a difference to me.

Now that this chapter is coming to a close, I am left to contemplate the future. Without my husband of 43 years, the celebration rings hollow. He was supposed to be here with me in retirement. We were going to finally relax and travel and just take it easy. Now I am on my own trying to figure out how to be me without him.

With all of the usual challenges of building a life and home and raising kids, we kept it simple. We made do with what we had and saved money. We were comfortable but never wasted money or lived in luxury. So, now he is gone, I am ending my career, and I have the nest egg to use on my own.

I miss my husband, my best friend. I want to lean on him and tell him my fear of being alone and not having enough to do. But I remember watching many others transition to retirement. And I do recall the stress and bewilderment they faced as their daily reality shifted down to a more gentle and leisurely pace. With time, they all worked it out and found plenty of things to do and people to see. When I get overwhelmed, I think about the three things that were most important to us in our marriage: faith, hope, and love. I will lean on these three and go forward with joy and purpose.

Reflecting on Grief: Lessons from a Tough Year

By Sheri LeClair Banitt

As the last day of the worst year of my life comes to a close, I am reflecting on the changes I have experienced. Some changes happened to me; some happened in spite of me and some happened because of me.

I could not have predicted or prepared for my husband’s sudden death. It was harsh and left me in shock and disbelief. This was a big life change that happened to me. I didn’t ask for it and I didn’t want it.

Many people reached out with sympathy, love, and support. I was thankful for the offerings but refused to look into grief counseling or support. I was sure that I didn’t want to dwell on my misery or join other grievers in theirs.

In spite of this, I was invited to participate in a 13-week support group with other grievers. I went reluctantly and to my surprise, it was helpful, and I learned how grief affects everything.

I began to see that my grief was following a very chaotic, unstructured, and predictable path, so I could relax and let it be. Here is where I started the work of reviewing the past, feeling the now, and hoping for the future.

In the past 43 years with one partner, I learned compassion, cooperation, forgiveness and independence as we forged one life together.

Now, without my partner, I have learned more compassion, cooperation, forgiveness, and independence as I interact with new people in new situations.

My hope for the future is that I will share great compassion, cooperation, forgiveness, and independence with others in need as I learn to be me, on my own.

Finding Joy in Yard Work: Lessons from a Heartfelt Week

by Sheri LeClair Banitt

I took the week off work to honor my late husband’s birthday. We always took the day off and had a nice dinner out. This year, I was on my own and the weather was beautiful. So, I began the yard work. Whew! I misjudged the amount of work to be done and my lack of energy. But I worked on it a little at a time and got much of it done during the week.

First on the list was to uncover the front flower bed. It’s a mess and full of weeds. But the tulips are lovely, and the birds are enjoying the bird bath. Weed pulling will wait for another day. Then I had dinner out with my sister in law.

Second, was to fertilize, overseed, and water the front lawn. This done, I pulled out all the summer lawn decor and set it up in the garden, on the steps and on the shepherd’s hooks. My dog was thrilled when I walked him and then read my book outside. Then I had dinner out with an old friend.

Next, I uncovered the roses, cleaned up and removed the winter community cat houses. Pulled out the dead stuff from the peonies and watered them. Then I met another friend out for lunch.

Cleaned the deck and patio, put down the rugs, uncovered and positioned the lawn furniture. Raked the dead stuff, filled the flowerpots with fresh dirt. Met my daughter for breakfast and we went shopping for flowers.

Had dinner with a new friend and got some ideas for cleaning the grill and setting up the pool.

Prepped the raised garden beds, bought tomatoes, peppers, and seeds, (too tired to plant those). Started prepping to uncover the pool and put rolls of fake turf behind the pool where the dogs dig and it’s hard to mow. Had lunch out with my other daughter.

The deck looks amazing, all ready for summer. The weather for Mother’s Day is going to be beautiful so I am planning a small get together at my house.

In all of the days and all of the activities, I was hot, tired, achy and sick of schlepping furniture, dirt, rolls of turf, etcetera, etcetera. I had many moments of self-pity and wishing there was someone to help. In the end, I kept going by remembering that everything is hard before it’s easy, and once it’s done, it will be done.

Letting go of expectations is hard, but once you do, you are free to find new ways of doing things. Taking time to walk the dog, read a book and have mini outings with friends and family broke up the work and reminded me to focus on the good stuff.

You don’t have to cook; you can go out. You don’t have to be alone; you can get together with people. You can spot clean the house and live well. You can enjoy the sun and stars and wind and birds even when the garden has weeds and the lawn has brown patches. When you enjoy what you have, there isn’t much time for anything else.