Jackie Shelton

Since I decided to try my hand at screenwriting a few years ago, I’ve “completed” (they’re never actually completed) three feature scripts, a handful of short scripts and we even made a short movie! I’m working on two more feature scripts as we speak.

As a way to keep track of everything in one place, my husband and I have started an unofficial company — Shelton Hall Productions — that will become more official as I get more adept in this new field.

If you’re interested, you can keep track of my progress at www.SheltonHallProductions.com.

It is through the amazing support of my friends and family that I have the confidence to try something new (and very scary). Thank you!

Single moms are responsible for so many things. You’re not only bringing home the bacon and frying it up in a pan — you’re also the only one remembering that bacon is not good for you and that it clearly won’t properly fulfill your children’s nutritional needs.

Sometimes I do that last one, sometimes I don’t.

When everyone is depending on you for everything, it can be hard to think about what happens if you’re not around. But it’s something that’s doubly important for a single parent to consider.

I attended the funeral of the mom of a friend a couple of years ago. In listening to her (a grown woman) talk about how hard it was to take care of everything on behalf of her mom, I started wondering about how my own teen children would deal with things if I died. Yes, their father is very involved in their lives, but I don’t know how excited he would be to step in and take care of my funeral, pay my bills, etc.

That’s when I realized I needed to take care of these things now, while I’m healthy and we can all talk about them without it putting undue pressure on anyone.

Since the one thing we know for a fact is that we’re all going to die, I think it just makes sense to plan for it, just like we would a vacation, college, a wedding — even the weekend. There’s a great website, www.passare.com, that has an overview of all the things to consider when planning for your passing.

I’m working with attorney Patricia Halstead to update my will, which I hadn’t done since I was married, and obviously things change with a divorce. I am in the process of creating a living trust so that everything I acquire in my lifetime can easily be transferred to my sons if something happens to me.

As weird as it sounds, I like the act of paying bills. But I made the choice to sign up for auto-pay for recurring payments after hearing my friend talk about how great it was that she didn’t have to worry about her mom’s power being turned off while they were busy organizing her things.

I have appointed friends and family members as executors and financial guardians and the keeper of the plug (in case someone has to make that decision). And yes, I have very good friends. I’m in the process of organizing all of my passwords so I can share them with someone else.

Oh, and that one box in the garage…I’ll need someone to take care of that.

I bought life insurance so my sons won’t have to worry about things like college and weddings and house down payments all on their own.

And yes, I have planned my funeral. Not all the details, as things change. But I did write down that I want to be cremated in a plain cardboard box and that my boys should dispose of my ashes someplace where they would like to come visit me. I want there to be a party afterward (not a service) where everyone wears hats. Then I filed the paperwork with Walton’s so everything is in place. And I paid for it. They estimate that funeral expenses double every 10 years, so this will save my family some money in the long run.

Even if I die at 90 when I’m planning to, my boys won’t have to deal with all of this when they’re sad. They won’t have to wonder if I would have wanted something fancier or if I would have been okay with people not wearing hats to my funeral. I’m not. Just as importantly, they won’t have to pay for it, as it will all be taken care of.

I have discussed this all with them, in a very calm, matter-of-fact way, so they know what’s up. This planning has actually led to some pretty great conversations with my sons and other members of my family, as well as the friends with whom I have placed a great deal of responsibility and trust.

Yes, I am an obsessive planner – I will own that. But putting all these things in place now has taken the stress off of me of worrying about what might happen if (when) I die. Now I can focus fully on living and enjoying this time I have with these two amazing young men and the rest of the pretty great people in my life.

Originally published in Reno Moms Blog.

I think that everyone’s experience at Burning Man is different, because it gives you what you need. Or what you’re looking for. And those might be very different things. If you want a party, you will most certainly find that. But if you want to meditate by yourself, in the middle of the desert, you can also do that. Yes, there are places to be alone there.

For me, it was a reminder of how much I already like who I am and how few problems I really have. When I went to the Temple, I prayed for other people to find peace, which was a good reminder that I already have personal peace most of the time.

Yet, I did cry at Burning Man. While at Baggage Check, I wrote about some personal history that was still nagging at me. And then I let it go. Get it? Baggage Check? Then, while others were meditating, I took a most wonderful nap in a stranger’s camp lying on their pillows, completely forgetting in that moment that I am a neat freak and a bit of a germaphobe.

In another spontaneous chat room (but with live people), I gained insight into my own role as a mother and what I can be doing to better parent my two teen boys. I learned this from young people, who do indeed have much wisdom to share. But we have to listen, which was also, appropriately, the name of the camp: Listen.

I learned that lists and rules and schedules are appropriate in some places, but completely unnecessary in others. And sometimes, you just have to go with the flow, even if it is not on the schedule. Or on your list.

At Burning Man, you are required to be radically self-reliant, but there are still always people to help you when you need it, which, of course, most of us do from time to time. My bike had a slow leak in the rear tire, which is a big problem when that’s the primary way you get around there. There were many camps set up and filled with volunteers (and tools) willing to fix bikes, just because they wanted to. Money is not allowed at Burning Man (except at Center Camp to buy coffee and ice), but when I gave them a crocheted water bottle holder as thanks, they acted like I’d given them gold. 

I learned that I am reliant on coffee, but that on some days, vodka is better than wine. I was reminded of how very valuable our connections with people are, and how important our friendships are – old and new. I learned that it’s okay to cry and it’s okay to trust people you don’t know. And that it can be incredibly liberating to wear a tutu, even when you normally hate your thighs.

The biggest thing I learned at Burning Man is that crowds of strangers can be amazing in the right place. How wonderful would it be if everyone was kind and helpful and non-judgmental and trust-worthy everywhere you went? That is what you find in the middle of the Nevada desert once a year. And that is why they greet everyone with a hug and a “welcome home” when you get there.

I will most certainly be going back.

My brain has been compared to a pinball machine, which I think is fairly accurate. This blog will be a chance for me to get those bouncing balls out of my head and out into the Interwebs. I’ve no idea if this will actually help anyone but me, but let’s take a shot at it.

Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.