Old Age Day by Day September 23, 2010

We're having a bit of summery weather, now that summer is officially over, as the paper noted this morning. I'm grateful for sandal weather whenever it comes. THe acorns are falling, the leaves are turning, and the pansies and roses are still blooming. Schizophrenic but normal where I live. The last place I lived was also capable of going from spring to winter and from fall to summer as well. Wake up and see what the day brings. A wind can warm up the earth or freeze it down. Midday, I might have to put a down jacket on top of summer khakis and a tee shirt and slip my feet out of clogs and into boots. Flexibility is a good thing to learn, I guess. But I hanker for consistency.

People can also surprise us. Our moods fluctuate and we often attempt to catch up and don't quite succeed, as the conversation or mood alters as we attempt to alter our own. We're all moving waters swirling around each other, but perhaps only heading in the same direction for a moment, until we spin out yet again. It's a dance, this attuning ourselves with others, and it takes energy, or maybe just a resting stance until the waters flow our way again. In my advanced years, I tend to the latter. The sunny day will come, the perfect alignment with our friend's thoughts and feelings will happen, eventually. And in the meantime, a little stillness has us noticing what joys are before us in our world come rain or come shine.

Old Age Day by Day September 22, 2010

Our son's gym bag was stolen last weekend while he was playing soccer, and he lost his phone, wallet, keys to car and place and most importantly, his sense of security. It was in the middle of a bunch of his teammates' bags, but he was the unlucky one. He's very disturbed, as I was when my wallet was stolen and my husband was when he was robbed twice in Spain. It's a violation, and the thought that someone has so much information about you that they can come to your house, steal your car, or take over your identity is hard to swallow. He's shaken. It will take a while for him to feel safe again.

I am now the person who has her purse on her lap while she eats out at a cafe, and wears a shoulder strap bag across my chest, and double checks every time I use my credit card that I've returned it to my wallet. I'm older, and that makes me a target. I can't walk to the movie theater four blocks away at night, dare not park to far from the building going out in the eavening. I wouldn't be the person who would talk on her cell phone while walking, even in daytime. I need to be aware of my surroundings. The younger people running with ipods in their ears risk more than they care to know. They seem foolhardy to me.

But after a while you decide you must step out into the world, the world not as we wish it to be, but the world as it is, and take your chances, calculatedly, that you will survive. It's a risky business, being alive. But the benefits outweigh the alternative.

Old Age Day by Day September 21, 2010

Last Friday a dear friend had me over for lunch for my birthday, and it was so sweet and perfect. She served my favorite lunch food: tunafish sandwich, ice tea, and we even ate a bit of plum cake. I am the kind of gal that you can take bets on what I will order out. For lunch it is tunafish, for dinner it depends on the place, but spicy and maybe with beets would be a good bet. And a beer.

Then she thrilled me by having printed out sheet music to my current favorite song "You Can Close Your Eyes" and the Leonard Cohen song "Hallelujah" that was in the first Shek movie. She played her piano and we sang and harmonized and she pulled out more songs for us to try. I began crying, because it is such a comfort to have a friend who knows me so well, who SEES me. I have more than one of these, so I am truly blessed. We had such a good time it was hard to stop.

Special times are often simple times, and don't involve expensive tickets or exotic locales. As I get older, I enjoy most the meeting of minds and hearts in a quiet setting with room to laugh and cry and settle in to the deep comfort of a long relationship. I'll not forget my Friday afternoon.

Old Age Day by Day September 20, 2010

I had a delightful weekend away, with my Buddhist study group. On Sunday we went to a local fair and saw the sheep dog trials. It was fascinating to watch the trainer, the dog and the sheep and their subtle and not so subtle interactions (one dog was disqualified for biting a sheep, but that sheep was really stubborn and stamping it's foot, so I felt a bit bad for the dog). At their best, the dogs moved like poetry in motion, and the tension was as great as watching a high wire act. The dogs were intense and there had to be such a fine balance between making the sheep aware of their presence, and gently directing, without moving too quickly or suddenly and startling them.

Dogs have worked with men for many thousands of years, and seeing the trials reminded me of that long bond and mutual benefit we both derive from our relationship. What we ask of them they try to give us with their whole hearts, and we need to remember that their generosity enhances our world so so many ways. In the stands was a group of dog trainers with their guide dog puppies, and it brought tears to my eyes, to see these little fellows at their trainers' feet, learning to sacrifice instinct for devotion. A little black lab caught my eye. He was squirming, but happy, not sure what he was being called upon to do, but eager to please.

I hope my heart grows as big a a dog's, and remembers it's connections to others as well.

Old Age Day by Day September 17, 2010

I just finished downloading my music for my chorus, which resumes next week. It makes me happy just thinking about singing with the group again. Yesterday, when my foster granddaughter was over, I sang her a song I learned on my own this summer, and then she sang a long song partially made up but sounding like Taylor Swift or some country singer. We were coloring and singing at the same time. We were our own quilting bee. She's having a hard time with her long days in kindergarten, and she wanted to do everything we used to do before. She wanted comfort. And the best I can offer is singing.

Her little five year old life is so complicated, and I have no idea what her issues are, but I can at least respect that they are as deep as my own, and maybe harder, because she hasn't enough experience under her belt to detach and know she won't feel this way forever. And if I remember correctly, time can sure drag. At my advanced stage of life, time whirls by and I wait for nothing. The next thing comes faster than I can keep up. But for her, the week is long, the birthday party far away, the time mommy picks her up so distant as to seem never to come.

We're in a rush to grow up, and then to get that job, have that relationship, have kids, buy a house, win the award. And when we begin to want it to all slow down, it rushes up and over us like a wave bound for shore. A bit of irony, and one can only grin and bear it.

Old Age Day by Day September 16, 2010

I ended up driving to see my daughter-in-law and talking about her stepdad's death, as well as having lunch and organizing her office a bit. Even when we're prepared, we think, for someone's passing, it is still shocking and unreal. That she is so far away makes everything harder. She had the right instinct to want to be there, but guessed the timing off by a few days. I think we want to DO something. When I talked to her mother on the phone, she sounded also stunned and as if she didn't quite know what to do. They were going to the funeral home, and she had made a bunch of calls, but she was sitting at a table staring at a piece of pizza and a salad. The ordinary becomes bizarre in such situations.

Because he wanted to be cremated, the memorial service will not be for about a month, so everyone can get their plane tickets and take time off. But that leaves the time in between similar to being stuck in an episode of the Twilight Zone. How can one person be there and then, not be there? We have sad feelings, but also often relief, and anger, and feeling sorry for ourselves and all those other feelings that "aren't supposed to be there".

There is something to be said for rending one's clothes and tearing our hair and screaming at the top of our lungs. Something MORE is called for, but what? Our culture sends us confusing messages. We imagine Jacqueline Kennedy in Warhol's paintings. But behind the scenes, did she break priceless china and snap at aides? Was she short with the children? Did she wash her hands and face compulsively?

What is our role? It's a struggle to step out of it and let feelings wash over us. Fatigue becomes our friend, as we lie in a darkened bedroom with a cool washcloth over our eyes. Because every time we open our eyes, a new, altered universe confronts us.

Old Age Day by Day September 15, 2010

My daughter-in-law's stepdad died this morning. It was expected, in fact he'd refused further treatment and wanted to die at home. For her, it's the first parent to die. It's a huge event, even when she had been out to see him twice and said all her goodbyes. Our older two kids, including her husband, lost their dad when they were 13 and 15. One's life is altered forever. Although, I'm beginning to see that our lives are altered continually, and we change and transform and retransform. Nothing stays. Nothing remains. Except our memories and the ways the person altered us by his/her presence in our lives.

I'm sure she takes comfort in having taken the time and effort to fly our twice to be with him and comfort her mom. Maybe gestures are all we have in the face of enormities, but they are powerful and make us who we are. At such times, words are ineffective, so actions speak more eloquently. I really liked her stepdad. He was sweet and friendly and gentle as a lamb. He had a smile from ear to ear and he radiated kindness. He led a good life. He reminds me it's possible.