agingwrinklesandwondersdot.com

a Wrinkle #26

Forever, and ever. Amen. I’m ____ and I will always be _____.( sad, happy, fat….) Just fill in the blanks. Is forever really a meaningful concept? On the one hand, we say nothing lasts forever, yet we often act and think as if “forever”can happen. I know, as a teenager, I believed on some level that I would be forever young. Jokes on me!  When I was told the universe was infinite I tried to imagine what that would look like, and I simply couldn’t do it. I couldn’t imagine my own end either, but now I can and I do. Many of my anxieties come from trying to hold onto things and people. Hold on tight and nothing will change, all evidence to the contrary. When things are good I can be afraid that things will change and when times are bad I can be afraid that things will never change. Friends die, or leave to move closer to family, and I feel lonely. My body suffers illness or injury and it feels like I’ll never get well. My neighbors are the best I could hope for and they move across the country. I love my yoga class and the instructor is changed. Life does not come with guarantees. I fell in love, got married, there were good years and then my husband got sick with dementia and died.  That was not supposed to happen to me. Grief does not end, but it changes with time and healing.   I thought I would have so much time with my son when he was young,  but I turned around and he was a young adult leaving home. I’ve cried myself to sleep or couldn’t fall asleep many nights. I’m afraid to do any “happy dances” for fear I’ll jinx myself.  How can I feel secure if the truth is “This too shall pass.”?

 a Wonder #26

I’ve lived the last 10 years in the shadow of Trump, who blocks the sun, so I need to believe that “this too shall pass “. My fear is that Democracy will pass! When I’m in despair about what Trump is doing I chant “Trump is temporary”, and sometimes this helps. I get sunny days and stormy days and there is not a damn thing I can do about this. If I think it will always be sunny then I’m wrong . If I think it will always be stormy then I’m wrong. Give me the good, I want more  sunny days and show me how to avoid the bad stormy days. I’ve come to believe  that “Shit Happens”, be grateful for everything, and “This too shall pass”. One of the advantages of my age is my perspective of powerlessness. I can’t control much of anything but my attitude, which is my secret weapon.  I try to adopt the Buddhist principle of non-attachment to outcomes, and remember that “unanswered prayers” may be the best kind of prayers  for me. Whenever I  protest that this “shouldn’t” be happening to me, my sense of entitlement is no match for reality.  Philosophically I get that everything is temporary,  but in the nitty gritty of life I want to ignore this fact. I’ve decided to be slower to decide or judge whether something  or some situation is good or bad. I guess I don’t always know. And “This too shall pass”…

Molly in all of her cone glory. My hero.

A Wrinkle And A Wonder #24

a wrinkle

Molly, my little doggie girl, had surgery this week. She had a couple of growths removed from her leg, so they could be  biopsied. Doctor doesn’t think it’s cancer,  but wants to confirm what it is. So we are dealing with the necessity of her wearing a Cone of Shame, an Elizabethan Cone, so she can’t lick the surgery site until it heals.  It hurts me more than it hurts her I think, but after desperately trying to get it off she has now called a truce . She’s adapted to the awful thing and has learned how to eat with it on, go up and down stairs and jump up and off the couch and bed. I step in to help her, but she probably doesn’t want me to hover over her. Damn! I think she’s better at this adaptation and resilience thing than I am.   A few years ago I had extensive surgery on my right hand. Unlike Molly, I had the awareness of what was coming so had the “luxury” of worrying about what was to come. Healing and getting mobility back was a long painful process and I am not the most patient of patients. So I figured some things out to take care of myself, gratefully accepted help from others and whined.  Limits and changes to  my ability to take care of myself really piss me off.  Although I know that change is inevitable I still tend to dig in my heels and protest a bit when I need to adapt to new circumstances. Road closed signs  irritate me, and when my favorite coffee shop closes early desperation sets in! Move the clock and I still look for it in the same place for too long! I’m not totally averse to stepping out of my routine or trying new things, but I prefer routine unless I’m highly motivated. I say old lady things and I hear myself say “ That’s the way I’ve always done it.” or “ What do you mean you’ve changed your patient portal!?”  I’ll deal with it, or I won’t.  

a wonder

A friend of mine asked to interview me after my husband Roger died, and I had had time to adjust and see what I may have learned from caregiving and grieving. She was researching what resilience meant and how I might have  demonstrated resilience. We concluded that caregiving and grieving Roger’s dementia and death was a massive learning experience, and it hadn’t destroyed me and actually made me stronger. Basically “What doesn’t kill you will make you stronger.” theory . Yes, I was a stronger more adaptable person, more confident of my strength and ability and clearer on what was truly important and what was not. Caregiving put holes in all my theories about  love for others and self-love  and each day was different with new challenges. You would think that nothing would shake me after surviving this, but time forgets as well as heals. So today I’m remembering these lessons and thinking WTF how could I now react to the trivial matters I face today with so much consternation, but I have to remember that I am human and can react quickly without thinking. If the Internet is out, my first reaction could be uttering a barrage of obscenities and maybe some handwringing if I knew how to wring my hands. As a young girl, when I was learning to ride bike and sucking at it,  I threw the bike to the ground and blamed the bike for not letting me ride it. I can still get very angry at inanimate objects that don’t cooperate with me. I do try to put the square peg in the round hole. I know that if I give myself time to think I can remember that I am resilient and steady and I can respond and not only react. Imagining  myself wearing a collar like Molly’s,  I am humbled and respect her ability to deal and to go with the flow. I need to remember this lesson.

a wrinkle

Trump and the Pope are feuding, actually it is really only Trump who is feuding, and the Pope who is sharing the theology of the Catholic Church with compassion and patience. All I know is that if I was marooned on a desert island, I’d pick the Pope for my theological roommate.  I would certainly commit murder if I was marooned with Trump. I do know that murder is a sin, but maybe God would pardon me.   I admit I’m a fair-weather Catholic  who “gently” accepts some Catholic teachings and rejects others. As I age, I value simplicity and clarity. I like to take short, little quizzes that I can use to judge my progress.  For simplicity and clarity in Catholic theology, it doesn’t get better than the 7  Deadly Sins: Pride, Greed, Lust, Envy, Gluttony, Wrath, Sloth.  Each of these have caused a lot of wrinkles on my face, in my soul and in my life. It all adds up as my years add up. I’ve always struggled with comparing myself to others and I usually come up short and asking why. Don’t I deserve more( greed), deserve what they have ( envy) or deserve revenge (wrath)? I may be old enough to know better,  but I do behave badly at times. Still it is hard to be humble when I can do it all or believe I can.  Pride is a sin that elevates the self above others and even God. Pride is considered the gravest of the seven deadly sins. The 12 Step programs put it this way “There is a God and I’m not it.” When I forget that I am not God and attempt to control other people and things I cannot control, I’m pushing God out and putting myself in charge. This behavior has my name on it more often than I want to admit. With my vast experience and advanced age I hope I’m wise, but not too proud to admit I’m not infallible like the Pope. My score on the 7 Deadly Sins is classified.  Yes! Trump is a perfect example of Pride, the gravest deadly sin. His “hair-do” proves it!

a wonder

What about the seven virtues? Prudence, Justice , Fortitude,Temperance and Faith, Hope and Charity. Surely I will score very high on all the virtues, because since I’ve passed 70 I have evolved into a paragon of virtues.  Oops, there is some of that Pride I need to rein in!  Am I  a prudent person who makes good decisions and discerns information? Lately I’ve “decided” to practice decision making without people pleasing and over-explaining. I give myself a good score on gathering and evaluating information.  One of my all time favorite movies is “And Justice for All” and Al Pacino’s closing arguments monologue is exactly what I wanted to say!  I”m obsessed with rendering justice, so if there is a wrong I must right it. The problem with all that fierce passion  is that I must win the battle over evil and injustice at all costs, and if I fail, look out for the sin of Wrath. With temperance, I think I’m getting more patient and mellow in many areas of my life. Althou gh, if a trigger is strong enough I may need to count to 100 to maintain self control. I also think being quiet and nice is not a virtue. I use my loud voice if I need to. I look at Fortitude as feeling brave enough to make noise and to stand up and be counted. I resist and I protest. In short,”If not now, then when?”,and I’m running out of whens’, so it is now!  Faith,Hope and Charity { Love} are the core virtues focusing on our relationship with our fellow human beings and a power greater than ourselves, which many call God. My faith in, and my concept of God is fluid and I’ve now accepted that I can trust a God that I define differently as I’ve gotten older. I believe in a greater power that may change daily and that’s ok with me. I think of Hope as my  expectation that I am worthy of good things and blessings in my life. I trust that God is a positive force in my life, but struggle to accept that I am worthy of blessings. My score on the 7 virtues is also classified. As for Charity, I aspire to love and be kind to everyone except for stupid people. 

A kind gesture can reach a wound that only compassion can heal.” – Steve Maraboli

a wrinkle

Yesterday I was taking a nickel and dime walk, which is what I call a short walk in between  events on my schedule. i.e. “ I have 10 minutes before my next commitment so I’m going to walk for 10 minutes.” I have been doing the nickel and dime walks more often recently as I am recovering from a hysterectomy. I was walking briskly and thinking that there is really little hope of good news while Trump is president. And then the sidewalk rose up to meet me, and bam my face was in contact with the concrete. My glasses flew off and I thought “ This is what a face plant feels like”.  Too late, I saw the uneven sidewalk that had tripped me up. I reached up to touch my face as big drops of blood fell on my hand.  I realized my face was cut and bleeding, but I didn’t know where the injury was. I struggled up to my feet and the bleeding was pretty heavy . Quick check, I wasn’t knocked out, not dizzy when I stood up and needed to assess what my face looked like. Meanwhile the bleeding continued and my hand was not absorbing the flow. So, of course I cried! I berated myself for not paying enough attention to the condition of the sidewalk and not being able to stop my fall. Just for fun, I also had  lots of fear about how I would heal. After all, I’m old and falling apart and my fall proved that. I started to walk…

a wonder

So where was I ? What was the closest place to get help? I remembered there was a health club around the corner and headed that way. I walked in and up to the front desk and said” “I need help. Can you help me?” I’m sure that I presented as an older lady who was bleeding  all over the place. Which of course was exactly what I was. I was given a towel to use and their first aid kit was pulled out.  And then I heard, “I’m a nurse. I can help.” and she did . She sat me down and cleaned up my face to see what was bleeding and checked me over for other injuries. She put pressure on the source of the bleeding and confirmed it was not a deep cut on the bridge of my nose. She was very comforting to me and  took me to the bathroom and helped me wash off the blood on my hands.. She offered to drive me to Urgent care,  but I said I was ok to drive. She gave me a hug and told me her name was Paige, and I introduced myself too. After all, it was important that we learn each others names as we had shared this raw adventure.  I went back to my car and drove to Urgent care for a closer  check up.  I was full of gratitude and understood that the good news is there are caring people. I want to be one of them, part of the caring and hope. This is true in spite of Trump’s evil control. I still get to decide how I will act. This part is up to me. Thank you Paige.

A Wrinkle and a Wonder a week #19

The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places.” — Ernest Hemingway, “A Farewell to Arms”

 A wrinkle 

So I’ve found myself feeling like Humpty Dumpty lately with broken pieces that I can’t put together again. A hysterectomy has removed some parts of me like my uterus, my ovaries, my fallopian tubes, etc..(in case I’ve forgotten something.) I don’t have any kings men or kings horses to put me back together again. Besides the pieces that are gone need to stay gone so cancer does not try  to put them back together again. When my body hurts the pain can consume me. I am only the pain I feel. The reality is my body is older and heals more slowly and I get angry at this reality. This anger is not productive energy that gets converted to healing energy, so it just diverts the energy into mental and emotional pain- a vicious cycle. Like the kid in the back seat I’m asking are we there yet and how much longer?  When will I feel better.? Now would be nice. I am so grateful that pathology and prognosis are all good. All’s well that ends well right? Not so fast! I feel more vulnerable living in my aging body. The odds are high that I will experience more illness and injuries the older I get. My response and reaction times are slower and I can’t pretend otherwise or I’ll increase my risk. I worry about facing the perfect storm of injury or illness, loss of mobility and being wrapped in isolation. I tell myself to deal with my anxiety by insuring that I am taking care of myself, planning for and making adaptive changes  in my environment and building a good social support system. On good days things seem to be working, but of course life is not pulling punches. Sometimes it just hurts.

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I amuse myself by imagining I’m like the Michelin man, protected by rolls of tires padding my body. Just try and get me! Reality is I have more in common with Wily E. Coyote who keeps getting clobbered, but I don’t have an  animator to “fix” my critical injuries.  Laughter is a great healer, so I’d rather my stomach hurt because I laughed too hard than because a medication I need to take upsets my stomach. I need sleep, exercise, mental and physical, good food and lots of love. If I hit my thumb with a hammer it hurts and I may let a few expletives fly to express myself and release my anger. There is nothing like a few very good swear words to release tension. My favorite refrigerator magnet says: “Some days the supply of available swear words is insufficient to meet the demands.” If I get poked at enough I may crawl inside my shell to rest and heal and this may be the best decision I can make. I remember as a child how  people wrote on casts to lighten the drudge of healing. Wish it were that easy! I stock up on books, crosswords and movies to distract myself from time that crawls. No matter how well I deal with illness or injury- sometimes it just hurts.

A Wrinkle and a Wonder a Week #18

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Getting to yes or getting to no on the decision highway is full of a lot of detours, road construction and a few car crashes. GPS doesn’t help me at all. “You have arrived at your decision” would be something I’d Iove to hear from Siri, anything  to take the responsibility for my decisions off of my shoulders. Do I want mango flavored yogurt,  coffee flavored or lemon…? I simply have more decisions to make because I have more choices.  When I  was younger, there were like 5 choices of toothpaste. Now advertising has created more “needs” for everyone: whiter teeth, healthier gums,  treating sensitive teeth and ending dry mouth etc…. My wrinkled skin has so many different products to choose from that I get more wrinkles worrying about if I have chosen the “right” product. Marketers have a way of selling their products that makes me and other consumers feel compelled to purchase them. These kinds of decisions are actually pretty trivial compared to important life decisions I’ve made or still need to make, like who to marry, whether to have a child, where to live, planning for my death, when to divorce, or whether to sign on this or that line….  As I’ve gotten older, I think I know better about when and even if I need to make a decision. I  also know that all decisions have consequences, and some consequences  I face now can be very serious, or even life and death. I can still make a lot of bad decisions and choices in the years I have left. It’s those damned if you do and damned if you don’t  decisions that can tie me up in knots. I may believe I know myself better and trust myself more, but throw some anxiety in the mix and  I get more wrinkles just thinking about it. 

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I  make better decisions when I can troubleshoot what to do if it turns out to be a poor choice. Considering the “What if’s” helps me assess risk. I’m still working on believing I have the right to change my mind.  Yes I can!  A decision or choice may be a good one for a particular time, but things always change and I will have to make different decisions  as circumstances change.  I’m trying to not deny the changes that aging has brought and will bring, and to accept the reality of my changing circumstances.  I am ok with others making a decision for me, i.e.where to go for coffee, if it really doesn’t matter to me. My  coffee order is my choice and it’s one I take seriously. When I do care or have a preference, I do myself and others the respect of speaking up for myself. I am responsible for planning for changing needs, as life narrows my choices.    I have taken care of confirming my final wishes and my representatives to act for me. My most precious resource is my time. How do I want to spend my time? These kinds of decisions determine my quality of life. I’ll spend 2 hours at the movies, but not 2 hours at a boring seminar on investing. I minimize the time I spend with people I don’t like, choosing not to ruled  my “shoulds”. I claim my right to make my own decisions, but not to make yours. It’s still really hard to keep my mouth shut when I think a family member, my son particularly, or friends have made a poor decision. My relationships are formed and bettered by my decisions, big and little, to respect mine and others choices. It’s much better to have to choose between alternatives that are all good. Which cake I want is not a very difficult choice. These are the kind of decisions I love so I’m hoping for lots more of these. I decided many years that “ Dawn” is the only dish detergent I ever buy or use. That’s one down, and many more decisions to make.

a Wrinkle

I think we can tell a lot about a person by how they choose  to decorate their living spaces. Before he fell asleep, Donald Trump vomited all over the Oval Office with an obscene amount of gaudy fake gold. What does that tell us about  him? I don’t think I have to spell it out to you, because we all know that a golden toilet is still just a toilet.  I don’t really know what my decorating style is, let’s just say it’s eclectic. Maybe that’s a fancy way of saying I don’t have any style and nothing I have “ goes together”. I can’t afford high end furniture and decor, but if I could I’m not even sure what I would buy. When I get disenchanted with my living spaces I know I need to clean house before I rush out to buy something.  When dirt and clutter become my default decorating style, I feel irritated, I don’t feel comfortable.  “It’s only me.”, I tell myself, so my home is not sparkling clean nor am I constantly watching HGTV. My modus operandi is I see something I like at the thrift store and I buy it, with the intent of finding a place for it. It would be better if I had a space I wanted to fill and then shopped, but  I don’t operate  that way. I think it’s the shopping I most enjoy! I’m not great at saving and waiting so I end up with some decor that is not quite what I wanted, because I want something right now and I don’t have enough money saved. “Not quite right” is not very satisfying .  I’m older so I ask myself “If not now, when?”.  It’s dangerous for me when I get sick of what’s on my walls, because “when” becomes “now” in a heartbeat.

a Wonder

The doggies and I walked past a small parked car the other morning that made me giggle. The only way to set the scene is to tell you it looked like HGTV had bombed it with an interior makeover.  Matchy, matchy, but I loved it. Pink fuzzy steering wheel, pink fuzzy shifter, pink fuzzy headrests, and seat covers that were ( you guessed it) pink and white striped! I thought “Why Not?”, we could all use an upgrade in our environments that might lift our spirits in the Tasteless Trump shadow.  Shiny and new is not always classy. I think sleek new high end cars lack personality, they scream money, money, but have no soul. Personally I’m in the recycle, reuse, make-do camp. My late husband and my son told me they were worried, if they sat too long, I’d try to embellish or redo them! Even though I like to put my personal touch on things and embellish whenever, whoever and however I can, I’m not into clutter. Sometimes I finish a craft project and donate it right back to a thrift store. It’s the process!  The problem I run into is I need to have craft supplies to use to work on my projects, and they do cost money. Through the years I’ve accumulated quite a craft supply closet which I am constantly organizing. I’ve slowed down the amount and time I spend on my crafting and makeovers. Sometimes I’m more inclined to let spaces,  simply be spaces, and I see it as not empty, but full of space! This is a very roundabout way of saying I’m more interested in my interior soul space which really doesn’t take up any physical space. I don’t need to embellish my spirit, I just need a serene space to connect with it. I’m proud of many of my re-creations and thrift purchases because they allow me to express myself. They are my creations. Unlike the fuzzy pink mobile, my car is decorated in different stylish shades of mud and dirt. I think a little mud says I’m into adventure, don’t you?

Grief: a cause of deep sadness, Grieve, Breathe, Begin Again

My friend, Jeanne passed away this week. Though small in stature, she was a giant in presence.  I will miss her hugs and easy laugh.  I learned so much from her.  She gifted the world for 90 years and that was not long enough. I am grieving, but very grateful she was in my life.   

a Wrinkle

Death and loss is not a topic you or I like to think about. As if not talking about it means  it will magically not happen to us. A commercial for life insurance talks about death this way “ Let’s  assume that some day you won’t be watching TV anymore. “ —talk about  denial! I believe that aging is really a string of losses. My friends and family members pass away, my body looses its strength and mobility, and the number of years I have left are dwindling. I don’t know current slang, but I must say I love the word “ dwindling”: to become steadily less.  My life is dwindling is exactly right. I grieve many different kinds of losses. Grief is grief,  though it differs in intensity, duration, and lasting effects depending on the loss. I grieved the death of Roger, my late husband, while he was alive and suffering with the slow death of dementia, and after he died, and every day since then, including today. I grieved when my son left home and when I didn’t get the job I really wanted. It’s like my life is a Jenga tower and the older I get,  the more pieces are removed and the more likely it will all fall down. I’ve been shaped by the chisel of grief and transformed by grief, past tense and present tense. I hurt and I cry and I rage and I deny, but still losses keep on coming.

a Wonder

Despite all of the times that I thought I couldn’t  get thru “this” pain,  I’m still here. I’ve not been able to build a safe room against grief. Do I get better at grieving the more I experience it?  I think I’ve gotten better at acceptance. I don’t wrap myself in bubble wrap and deny that life has pain for myself and everyone.  No exceptions!  I can’t deny that life also brings joy and love. Endings and beginnings have cycled through my life. I can love another pet after I have lost a beloved pet. I’m not replacing one for the other because I have enough love to give and accept from another pet. In the middle of my grief at losing a furry member of my family, I’m sure I will never want to feel that  pain again, but I see another special dog or cat and know I’ve got to risk loving again. The joy outweighs the pain of loss. The biggest risk I’ve ever taken is to become a mother. Talk about signing up for the biggest risk of all! Loving so intensely brings immeasurable joy, but also immeasurable loss and pain. If I focus on all the losses I have had or will have I only feel grief, but that’s only half of life’s equation. I can also choose to focus on the good and joys in life. Gratitude is one of the tools I use to keep my focus on the good and the grace in life. My gratitude muscle has gotten stronger as I’ve gotten older. Grief is better when it is shared with friends, so I prioritize my friendships. I try to live keeping in mind the  reality that I will die. I make this reality the catalyst to keep my relationships healthy and to tell people I love them as often as I can. I don’t want to have unfinished business weighing on me.