agingwrinklesandwondersdot.com

a WRINKLE a Week #7   

Yes Danita, there is no Santa Claus. No how, no way. Bah Humbug!  Grown-ups are such downers. Magic, fantasy, and wonder are for kids, not old people. I just want to skip Christmas and the forced gaiety.  I just set myself up for disappointment when the Norman Rockwell christmas I envision doesn’t happen. It never has!   A Martha Stewart christmas makes me tired just reading about it. Would my younger friends call Martha an influencer? Christmas cookies make me fat, eggnog does too. Reality is as irresistible as a club, but it’s the only story in town. I don’t drink anymore,  but several drinks of Baileys or hot buttered rum sounds better and better as each year comes around. “He knows when you’re naughty or nice.” I always choose naughty over nice and besides the old fart sounds like a stalker. And what about the  little creatures called elves? Elves are kinda cute, but their eyes are dead and evil and I don’t want one on my shelf!  If Santa (who does not exist) got stuck in my chimney I could die from carbon dioxide poisoning  because my  fireplace does not vent. Trump, our souless ,evil, dear leader said he is bringing back Christmas; this from a Scrooge, a grinch, a bad Santa, the anti-Christ and Satan . Our country is so sad and beaten down. What’s so “merry” about this Christmas?

a WONDER a week #7

What about the little girl inside of me who KNOWS there is a Santa Claus?Can I find the Spirit  of Christmas within me  if I can soften my heart? I  remember Christmas at the bookstore where I worked for many years. If I didn’t focus on my tired feet, there were many moments when I put the book my customer wanted in their hands and I got a big thank you and all was well. There was always the children’s book section and Santa bear to cheer me up. These memories can sustain me in the present day when my Christmas spirit wanes, I’ve found I can enjoy the elements of Christmas I love and let the rest go. I can enjoy the work that others do, the lights and decorating and baking. For me, I cherish all the Christmas lights that I believe can banish the darkness in our world. When I turn on the Christmas lights on my little trees, the lights soothe and comfort me. I love to cuddle with my doggies and feel the peace. Its not a flashy frantic “Everything, Everywhere, All At Once” kind of Christmas,  but it’s real. I  don’t need to believe in Santa to believe in the peace and joy of Chrismas.

a WRINKLE a week

Money doesn’t grow on trees. I have confirmed this. What a  “wrinkle” this is! From car loans to student loans to credit card balances, I’ve always paid my debts. Unfortunately, my debts lately are for decidedly unglamorous things; think dental work, hearing aids, glasses and physical therapy. I pay someone to mow my lawn and shovel my snow cause I have a major case of “Old”. I’ve learned money doesn’t s-t-r-e-t-c-h to cover whatever new expenses I may have, in fact, my emergency funds are shrinking. Social security is anything but. My anxiety about money has only increased under our incompetent, corrupt and crazy President. About 70% of the wealth in the US is concentrated in the top 10% percent. I’m in the other 90%. Follow the money! I hate feeling this helpless. Will I run out of money before I run out of life? Medical care and prescription drugs are necessities and all of these are costing me more now. What comes in has to be equal to or more than what goes out. I cut it very close some months. It feels like quicksand.

a WONDER a week

Obviously the more money I have the more things I can buy, but I’m getting tired of organizing stuff. I’ve figured out that less stuff means I spend less time organizing and more time having fun. Keep it simple is my new mantra and this keeps more money in my pocket. “A penny saved is a penny earned. “, but pennies are not even being minted anymore so this cliche is dead. I invest my money, cross my fingers and pay attention. I’m proactive and have a “money” guy who helps me manage my money. My friend and I have a unique money exchange!  Money rarely passes between us because our debts with each are often paid in “coffees”, i.e that item will cost me the 2 coffees I need to purchase for you. Sometimes we lose track, but overall it works for us. It feels better for us to be on the coffee exchange.  You’ll see me in thrift stores and rarely at the malls.  Used is ok with me and I have a lot of fun creating a “ new” treasure. I’m used and I’m a treasure  I create every day. Sometimes I can’t get that thing Ihave to have and that hurts, but having enough money to get what I need is priority. And I have to  replace my fence which blew down last night. At least my money tree survived the wind storm….

A Wrinkle and a Wonder a Week #5

a WRINKLE a week

Act your age! This is what we say to children when they are  acting up in some way that we view as troublesome or silly and not age appropriate. We expect they can do better. We may not verbalize it, but we also expect our olders ( my preferred term) to act their age. What does that mean? There is my belly button age, and then there is -how I act, how I feel, how I look and how I think. I may think my “age” is solely determined by the calendar, but lots of people will tell me how “old”I am. Cultural expectations and ageism are strong currents to swim against. And, sometimes too old is too old!  Trump is too old to be president and I’m too old to become a prima ballerina. That’s not ageism, that’s reality. Research from Harvard  found that those who hold negative beliefs about their aging, die sooner, by as much as seven years!. What I think about my own aging can become a self-fulfilling prophecy. “ I think I’m old, therefore I am! So act my age? What does that mean? 

a Wonder a week

I give myself a break on how I handle my aging, after all, this is my first time at this. There are some good examples and certainly some bad examples, but it is fundamentally up to me to invent it as I go along. Considering the mine field I tip toe through daily, I think I’m doing pretty well for a novice. I don’t get up every day, look in the mirror and say “Let’s do this!”, but I bet few people, young or old, do. I show up and occupy the world in my own unique way. Ageism is very insidious.Have you really thought about the “old people” jokes we hear? Here’s a Google listing:  “75 ‘Old People Jokes’ for Seniors to Laugh at and Feel Seen. Laughter is the best medicine for aging.” This sounds like a suggestion to take your “laugh” pill and you oldies won’t see that you are being laughed “at” and not “with”. “ Life is short, smile while you still have teeth.” Is this funny? I’m not laughing. Just tell me a good dirty joke instead. So I guess it’s all about my attitude and the “wonder” is I get to choose my attitude and determine what getting old means to me. The situation is in flux!

A Wrinkle and a Wonder a Week #4

a Wrinkle a week

Delayed gratification? Have it now, why wait? It was hard to think ahead when I was young; simply impossible to imagine myself as an older woman. Even if it was labeled “May be hazardous to your health”, I just planned to  worry about the consequences later. I smoked, fried in the sun and consumed large amounts of alcohol. I took chances, made reckless choices and starved myself or binge ate. Picking the wrong men was definitely hazardous to my health. As I get older, I find that “later” was sooner than I thought! Consequences, wrinkles and a body that rebels  are piling up as I age. I thought I could “fix” myself and outrun or forget some of my past trauma. For many years, my running obsession gave legs to my intention to get healthy and not grow old. Was I running away from something or running toward something”? I’d still be running if my body allowed me to. Now I’m afraid of falling and getting up off the floor. God knows I’ve had enough therapy to last several lifetimes and I think I’m done, self-improvement be damned. So I am “worse for wear”, or am I?

a Wonder a week

We learn from our experiences right? We’ve all heard that what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger. I’m still around and I argue that I am stronger for all my life experiences, both good and bad. Somewhere along the line I stopped smoking and drinking and started making better choices. The wonder is that I keep learning and exercising my mind and body. What I don’t know is vast, but I’m curious and love to discover my world and honor my past. I do chair yoga so I don’t have to worry about getting up from the floor! I act quickly to treat “aches and pains” and any serious health  concerns. Most importantly,  I do not subscribe to the  “Lots of people your age…” theory which I know promotes ageism and minimizes the health concerns of the olders.  Now I do look ahead, and protect and plan for mobility issues. Escaping natural consequences isn’t possible, but I don’t believe that I need to be a victim either. I do subscribe to the “Use it or lose it.” theory for both my body and mind. My good friends are my best support, keep me engaged and make me laugh. I treasure all of you.

A Wrinkle and a Wonder a week #4

a Wrinkle a week

Delayed gratification? Have it now, why wait? It was hard to think ahead when I was young; simply impossible to imagine myself as an older woman. Even if it was labeled “May be hazardous to your health”, I just planned to  worry about the consequences later. I smoked, fried in the sun and consumed large amounts of alcohol. I took chances, made reckless choices and starved myself or binge ate. Picking the wrong men was definitely hazardous to my health. As I get older, I find that “later” was sooner than I thought! Consequences, wrinkles and a body that rebels  are piling up as I age. I thought I could “fix” myself and outrun or forget some of my past trauma. For many years, my running obsession gave legs to my intention to get healthy and not grow old. Was I running away from something or running toward something”? I’d still be running if my body allowed me to. Now I’m afraid of falling and getting up off the floor. God knows I’ve had enough therapy to last several lifetimes and I think I’m done, self-improvement be damned. So I am “worse for wear”, or am I?

a Wonder a week

We learn from our experiences right? We’ve all heard that what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger. I’m still around and I argue that I am stronger for all my life experiences, both good and bad. Somewhere along the line I stopped smoking and drinking and started making better choices. The wonder is that I keep learning and exercising my mind and body. What I don’t know is vast, but I’m curious and love to discover my world and honor my past. I do chair yoga so I don’t have to worry about getting up from the floor! I act quickly to treat “aches and pains” and any serious health  concerns. Most importantly,  I do not subscribe to the  “Lots of people your age…” theory which I know promotes ageism and minimizes the health concerns of the olders.  Now I do look ahead, and protect and plan for mobility issues. Escaping natural consequences isn’t possible, but I don’t believe that I need to be a victim either. I do subscribe to the “Use it or lose it.” theory for both my body and mind. My good friends are my best support, keep me engaged and make me laugh. I treasure all of you.

A Wrinkle a Week

I’m so not cool. Perhaps I am even “cringe”.  Am I too old to be anything other than old? I’m not sure. The beauty industry, focused primarily on looking younger, tells me that I should fight my wrinkles. I look in the mirror and think waging war on my aging body is probably a losing battle, but maybe, just maybe, this particular moisturizer can banish my wrinkles and crepey skin. Who wants “bingo” arms?  No sleeveless tops for me. I’m out of the loop and sound kind of silly using some of the words coined by the younger generation. 67 means what?  I use too many ellipses … and I need a cheat sheet to help me understand and write texts. Don’t roll your eyes at me, I had enough of that when my son was a teenager. Now it’s my son who can hover a bit; he’s telling me to “be careful” more often.  I may even roll my eyes at him!  On a scale of 1 to 10,  I’m mostly invisible in the world of men. If I’m noticed at all it’s because I look strange or am acting like a strange old lady . If I am not careful I can slip up and start a sentence with” Kids these days…” (oops!). Sounding like my Mother is definitely not cool.

A Wonder a Week

I may not be cool, but I am not a passing fad. I am a “classic”! Think Rolls Royce or a Gucci bag. Well maybe I shouldn’t go that far, but there are some things, like me, that never go out of style. If I practice kindness, respect and tolerance I am never out of style. I am mostly comfortable in my own skin. I don’t try on 20 outfits before I leave the house or suffer discomfort  from clothes that are cool but painful to wear.  I’d rather do the next right thing than strive for the right clothes, the right car and whatever else cool people have. I have more time to spend on things I enjoy instead of worrying about my image. Comparing myself, evaluating myself and testing the environment are a waste of my precious time.  Older women are not on the radar of our youth obsessed culture. My age is pretty good cover, people aren’t watching me, but ignore me at your own peril if you are trying to do harm and be unjust. I worry less about impressing other people and more about impressing myself. I remind myself often that “ What  you think about me is none of my business.”

a WRINKLE a week

“If it’s not one thing it’s another.” For example, when asked about my physical ailment du jour I might say, “My knee is better, but my hip hurts now.”  With aging complicating my life, I often face multiple issues all occurring at the same time. My townhome needs work, my body needs work and the world is a total mess. It feels like the movie title “Everything Everywhere All At Once.”  I’d really prefer just one thing at a time. Thank you very much. It could be that I’m not as adept at juggling as I once was, or maybe I’m just tired more.My house of cards is more susceptible to collapsing. I’m not a moving target, I’m a sitting duck. But enough with the metaphors!  Shit happens and I have to deal with it or pay the price. My limited and fixed income is constraining and at times makes me fearful. Meanwhile time marches on and life gets even more complicated.

a WONDER a week

As the years go by, with more and more of, “been there done that”,  I’d like to think that I’ve learned a lot. A big part of what I have learned is that not everything is an emergency.  I can prioritize what needs to be addressed right now and what can wait. So that “Everything Everywhere All At Once” becomes more like First Things First and One Day at a Time. My body is not as reliable as it once was and I can plan for that. I don’t need to wait for the emergency to happen, I can focus on accessibility right now. Denial is still a liability for me, but it has been tempered by the many experiences I’ve had with “It won’t happen to me.” actually happening to me.  I’m not afraid to ask for help and not above playing the old, gray haired lady card. Problem solving is something I think I’m pretty good at. I dig deep, navigate phone prompts  and figure out who I need to talk to. Customer service is an oxymoron: my call is not important to them and they will not be with me shortly. I’m very tenacious and at times I am even patient. Yes, patience!

a WRINKLE a week :I used to ________ run, play guitar… ( Fill in the blank).  If my conversations are full of used to’s, then I know my now is lacking something. Melancholy for a younger, better me diverts my attention from what I am doing now. When the present me is not so cool, do I get points for all the things I used to do?  Was I really a better version of myself then, but now I’m just old?  I know I have a long past, and a future which will be much shorter, but I am learning the moment I have right now is really the only one I need. What am I going to do with this moment? “Used to” is really nowhere

a WONDER a week: Whatever “it” was or is, it’s not a fatal flaw or I’d be dead. I wonder  how many times I got through it when I just  “couldn’t do it” anymore. I walked or I crawled, but I kept moving. Iv’e learned I don’t get an “A”for pretty, I get an “A” for effort. Remember that awful, cringe commercial from 1980, about a perfume Enjoli, where the heroine sings and dances while crowing: I can bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan, and never let you forget you’re a man.”  Well I don’t cook, I don’t really like bacon and I won’t help you if your masculinity is so fragile that I need to remind you you’re a man. So the wonder of it all is I’m really much stronger than I give myself credit for. And I’m not done yet.

The kids in the neighborhood congregate at the house next door to play. When they play outside their voices are the background music to my day. I envy them because they are so uninhited and unself-conscious. They are not worried about looking silly or being judged. They even sold rocks this summer and I bought some like every adult in the neighborhood. I know this stage of their lives will end as the world of comparison and judgement awaits them all. They too will soon be thinking “What will people think?”

I feel like shame is in my DNA. I inherited it from my Mother, just as she inherited it from her Mother. My mother got up every morning and dressed herself in shame. I’d like to think that in her sleep and dreams, and in her demented state today, that shame is not able to claim her. How did I know that she was full of shame? She was muted and timid and often seemed afraid. Her question, spoken or unspoken, was “What will people think?” Her default was “It’s all my fault.” As I got older, I understood that she held secrets buried under her shame. Soon I had my own secrets.

I got a double dose of shame, Catholic and female shame. I knew I was a sinner. As I grew up, I was burdened with the overwhelming shame of being a female. I bled every month and my body changed in ways I couldn’t control. Did everyone know I was on my period?  I had sexual feelings. Was I a good girl or a slut? Was I pretty and popular? Who knew about that thing I was trying so hard to hide?  Sometimes I played “dumb” and other times I berated myself for an A-. I was sure if I was just “myself” that I would be alone and I would never be good enough. A lie was ok if it protected me. And I won’t even begin to share my parenting mistakes and secrets. Motherhood gives birth to babies and guilt and shame.

So how did I get here? Today I am usually at peace with myself and most of the time I feel I am good enough. Many years of therapy, 12 Step programs and just plain hard emotional and spiritual work have been my path. I try to be very aware of  my self-talk and how important it is for me to pay attention to what I tell myself. I share my feelings with trusted friends and family too. Shame still nips at my heels, but self-forgiveness keeps me out of reach.

I have compassion for my Mother who did the best she could with what she had. I’m sad she struggled so much with shame and  fear of what others thought of her. With help she might have discovered her wonderful self and that she was worthy and deserving of love. Just because. I wish the same for my son,Tyler.

My neighbors tree 
ignoring property lines,
trespasses in my yard.
In the summer,
I borrow its shade like a cup of sugar.
I grumble in the fall,
blisters on my hands from raking.
I worry about its comforting branches
breaking under the weight of ice, snow or strong winds.
If I’m vigilant I may see a goldfinch
tucked in it’s branches.
Resilient, tall and strong
the tree inspires me.
I know the tree can not be owned,
but it is mine.

Was he even paying attention?

He was.