Old Age at the Rock Hall

 Gerry and I recently visited the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland. The music that has accompanied my life, and the memories the music triggers had a strong emotional impact on me. That led to the following poem:

Old Age at the Rock Hall

 

Oh, yes, I remember that song.

 

But what I want is to hear it again.

Back in the steamy, gym for the Friday night dance

The girls on one side, giggly, with too much eye make-up - expertly applied,

And the boys on the other, practicing their bravado,

but so shy and new.

 

Hormones are flyin’ all over the place.

 

Then someone dims the lights and plays that song. 

I’m filled with such wanting 

I’m going to burst if I can’t be out on that dance floor, 

leaning into someone, learning what wanting is about.

 

Not someone, him. 

The curly haired guy with moon-doggy eyes

And strong arms. 

Yeah, strong arms.

 

Can’t you see me?. I want to dance with you tonight.

I know you like me. 

Your sister told my best friend you liked my red hair.

Oh, hurry, it’s 1967 and you have to ask me.

 

Oh, god, he’s walking over here.

 

Then you are here, and I am looking up at you.

You put your arms around my waist.

Mine go around your neck. 

You pull me so close I can hardly breathe.

We slowly sway to the music, and your hands are trying things.

Stupid coach yells at us to leave some space. 

Like hell. 

 

Beautiful boy, you are holding the grown up me tonight

and this time, I’m going to let you do it.

This moment is too good to waste 

and I will never get it back.

 

I remember that song, A sweet memory,

but not your breath against my ear 

or the anticipation of everything to come.                                          

And that, is why the Rock Hall made me cry.

 

In Awe of Older Women

 I am in awe of my friends who now officially qualify as "older" women. And I am proud of them too. 

I belong to two groups of women who exercise together. One is a walking group at the YWCA, which we have named "Still Walking". We participated in a walking class for people with mobility issues, and some of us decided to keep walking together when the class ended. One day, my friend Kim, said "Since I turned 70....." I was flabbergasted. She is a tiny women, who in no way looks to be 70 years old, and who can cover 20 laps on the indoor track in nothing flat. I looked at the other women in the groups and realized that, in addition to Kim,  two of us are nearing 74, and two of us are in their 80s. We were most of the older people in the group, and here we were, still walking.**

My second group is a live Zoom yoga class that began during the pandemic so that class members in Swansboro could continue meeting with their beyond wonderful yoga teacher. She teaches Gentle Yoga three times per week (don't kid yourself that this is easy does it - it's challenging in a very supportive way), and I am going to guess that the average age in the class is around 70. Some of these women also walk up to 4-5 miles a day. 

Would you call these women old? Well, go ahead, if you must, but their lives and their activities would strongly argue the point. I call them awesome!

I would also call them determined. Determined to care for their bodies and health in ways that support happy, healthy, active living. BTW, we should be doing this all along, as we all know, but when you get older it's use it or lose it very quickly.

My friends have decided not to accept the cliche' picture of old people. I think it's an issue of focusing on what we can do, rather than what we can't. I have heard so many people say, "I don't feel any older in my mind." Yeah, it's the body that can let us down as we age, but awesome women refuse the mindset that aging means giving up. They are fighters.  

So they get up early, put on those walking shoes, or don their yoga pants, and head out the door or onto the floor. 

AND.... they take their minds out for a walk too. It's a time of life for trying and learning new things and stretching yourself to do it. I don't know a single one of them who sits down in an electric recliner and gives up on her life. 

Are there problems, aches and pains, changes that challenge us, yes, of course, but awesome women meet them head on. Head on means that we share with each other, get and give support, and adapt. I can safely say that there are some heroes in both groups.

Dylan Thomas wrote: 

                    Do not go gentle into that good night,
                    Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
                    Rage, rage against the dying of the light

  You bet your life. I know some kick-ass women, and I am so proud. They inspire me every day.I want to be just like them when I grow up.

** Special mention here for a couple in the class who were 92 and 94. Fred could outwalk almost anyone in the group, and complained loudly that he just couldn't walk as fast since he had a hamstring injury last year! Lelah, started slowly, but steadily increased her time and laps over the course of the class. They are both nothing short of remarkable.

Who is This Person?

 Rereading my post from yesterday. Who is this person? So filled with anger, fear, and sadness. I can hardly recognize myself. I have to turn off the news and turn toward things that keep me happy and on track. I can't give my time, my life, to such a person. It's been seven years already.

I think what will be, will be, and it may be a rough time Let me know when it's over. I hope goodness wins and our country stands.

I Wish He Would Just Go Away

 If you are like me, the best part of 2020 was the thought, after the election, "Thank God, we are done with the ex-president, the one who shall not be named. We don't have to listen to him or hear about him any longer. What a blessed relief!

(Please insert a long, agonized pause.)

What Happened??? That man (and I use the term lightly), absolutely owns this country and shows no signs of going away. As a matter of fact, it is worse. The media cannot stop talking about him, yelling about, rolling their eyes AND continuing to give him the attention that he so badly wants. Through his leadership, I am now afraid to be out and about where any kind of crowd gathers. 

I feel buffeted by non-stop outpouring of hate. I saw a large sign in someone's yard which read, "F__K BIDEN". I can't stop seeing it in my mind. Who would want to broadcast that 24-7 to one's neighbors and strangers passing by? What if I had to see that every day? What if children see it? Well, heck, it doesn't matter because we no longer care about other people. It's all about me and my rights, so "F--K, You!"

The most painful example of this is the slaughter of small children in school - collateral damage to the securing of my right to carry a weapon of mass destruction as soon as I get out of diapers and my right to take out anyone who disagrees with me. We don't care how many children die. This is a country which doesn't care how many small children are slaughtered. Would you have ever thought that this could be said of the USA?

It is also worse because since January 6, we have begun to see the workings of an evil, criminal, and sick mind, and the hypocrisy and lies of those who for some baffling reason continue to support him, even though he shouts out to the world every day his disdain for this country, our Constitution, and our rule of law. He makes no secret of the fact that he admires brutal, autocratic dictators, and longs to become one himself. Sadly, he might just succeed. The craziness and absurdity of this is without limits. We are trapped in an implausible horror movie which, like Groundhog Day, just keeps repeating itself. 

The thought that those who support him would gladly hand the country over to such a person and give him free rein is beyond belief. Of all the things I do not understand in life, this is the most incomprehensible and shameful to me. It is the saddest.

He is a sick (you know the word we are not supposed to say), and cannot help some of his behaviors. But the allegedly not narcissistic or psychopathic people, who should know better, are the real perpetrators here. He has been a con man criminal his entire life. Others have let him get away with it. He does not know that the rules apply to him. They let him get away with it.

How do you imagine he might behave should he come to power again? I suggest that he has been using his time at Mar-El--Unholy Palace By the Sea to plan his revenge, and it will be bloody. There will truly be no way to get our country back because he would destroy it for his own gain. Were you around for January 6th? It was merely a light preview. The worst is yet to come.

I'm reading over this, and I know that i could have, and probably did, write this stuff over and over since 2016. So the point of this is: I am sad.

It is a profound, exacerbating sadness that paints everything with a dull gray. Do you feel it too? It comes from being exposed on a daily basis to horrors that you cannot believe could happen, and without relief, they just get worse every day. It comes from helplessness. I don't know what to do.

I have written countless letters to our representatives, but they have joined the cult, and my pleas fall on deaf ears. I can vote - but these people are working hard to make sure that any dissenting opinion and vote will never be heard or counted. They are working hard to assure that they get control and that it can never be taken away.

I am sad and anxious about this, and how we are just rolling away from reason and towards chaos and the collapse of our democracy, and I am helpless. Sometimes I cannot sleep at night. I hate to watch the news. i cannot stop watching the news. 

I have actual thoughts about some terrible fate happening to this Monster-in-Chief, yeah and his evil munchkins too. Seriously, I wish he would go away (as in pass on) permanently. I have never wished this for any person prior to this.

i dread for anyone to ask, "How are you?" What can I possibly answer? The only response, and one that I hate to dump on someone who is just trying to be polite, is  "I'm sad, and I am afraid."

I don't know what i am going to do about it. I don't believe I could live through another administration with this villain. I do know I am not alone, others feel the same way. 

I look daily for something to make me feel hopeful, and then the next worse thing happens. For example; T---p is indicted. Grand jury called in T-land and a judge who was appointed by him and who supports him to absurdity is assigned to the case. I doubt it ever even comes to trial. So he can continue sharing our military and nuclear secrets with the people in his bizarre world, with our enemies. So he can continue to own our country. 

Th Pursuit of Happiness

Finland was recently named the happiest country on earth. They have received this accolade several times. In a country where winters are long, dark, and exceptionally cold, that's pretty amazing. I mean look at the snow and ice in the photo. I wonder how they do it. 

Throughout my life, I have found happiness to have been an ephemeral state. I have known great happiness, often related to the big highs in my life, traveling to foreign places; standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon; birthdays, and holidays, a good marriage, and friendships, oh my goodness, YES, wonderful friendships!

And yet, I sometimes feel unhappy. So much much bad stuff is going on in the world and, more painfully, in my own country, that it is difficult to feel happy. I am not the only person I know who can no longer stomach the news and how hopeless it can make you feel. Hopeless and profoundly sad that evil is at work here. But heck! I can make myself unhappy because Amazon didn't deliver my order overnight, but this post is really not about that.

Despite my frequent despair about such things, I was recently sitting on the porch stoop, planting a container of flowers for summer, and I realized that I felt completely happy and content. What?? How is that possible, when I have not yet solved the problem of climate change?

Here are some things that Finns say make them so happy: 

1. Home, sweet home. Your own home.
2. Sunny weather.
3. An honest relationship.
4. A relationship based on trust.
5. The freedom to be yourself.
6. A clean home.
7. Friendship, gestures or words in a relationship.
8. Friendship, actions within a relationship.
9. Fidelity in a relationship.
10. Security in a relationship.

The Finns also love an active relationship with nature. It would not make me happy to break open a frozen pond to go swimming in winter, but to each his own.

With the possible exception of #6, I realized when I read this that I can honestly say that I have all these things in my life. (Maybe the times when I feel unhappy are when the house is a mess!) 

I also love a close relationship with nature. I love sitting outside in the sunshine, listening to the many birds around the house, and dirtying my hands with planting things that will bring me beauty and joy come summer. I feel nourished and uplifted by a walk in the woods with my husband or good friends. These things brings me contentment and peace - happiness even.

Maybe just doing these things slows me down enough to realize that the Top 10 above are in place in my life. I didn't expect to have these, and yet, an honest appraisal assures me that they are real. Even when I feel that everything is wrong and nothin' ain't right.

I'm with the Finns. These are the things that matter to me, and for which I am grateful. (Oops, I forgot to mention coffee and good bread!)

Unless you make your own Top 10 list, this post could border on the cliche' - i.e. happiness comes from the small things in life; be grateful for what you have, etc. My list is not necessarily everyone's list. After all there are people who actually want to be President. I think the key is to make your own list and to be able to see that you have the things that make you happy. 

Getting older brings a lot of summing up. How did I do? Happiness or regret? I can count things left undone in my life. I can count things for which I am sorry. But, I can also count myself happy that the fundamental things I want have come to me. Actually I'm pretty sure that they didn't come to me until I knew that I wanted them.

Tomorrow, I probably will be whining or complaining about some wrong thing, but it's nothing that a trip to the garden center won't cure. 

The Big Aftermath

Wow! Dedicating myself to keeping up with this blog has been sidetracked by my back surgery. Ok, I did it, on Halloween no less. I intended to write about the experience, and thought about writing many times, but my intentions came out as pain, pain, blah, blah. Poor me. Poor fodder for a blog post.

I will just say that the experience has been surreal and more challenging than I even imagined. I believe I mentioned my Big Girl panties in a previous post. Man, I couldn't even find mine after the Big Cut, and at the beginning of my recovery, Gerry would have had to help me put them on  Bless him, bless him, bless him. I have cycled from Big Girl to sniveling, whimpering, loathsome creature and back again. Gerry is still here. Bless him, etc, etc.

Pain is better now. I have gone from barely able to walk from the car to the house when I came home to walking a 1.5 mile trail (with hills) in the beautiful Elkin valley this week. Major achievement. Major! 

I didn't wake up from anesthesia with much of a "Man, I'm so much better result." I woke up with the possibility of getting better, with work, and the hope that I won't get any worse in the future. Read that as the ability to keep walking and avoid fractures. I think I have a good outcome, and I am continuing to work.

If any reader wants more info or to discuss back surgery, I'm willing. Leave me a comment and I will send my telephone number. I am available for consultations.

I have thought about and read about the mental and emotional side of this kind of surgery. I wondered, as have others, if following such an invasive surgery, especially when the team removes part of my body and inserts non-organic fixtures, am I the same person? Will I be somehow changed? Will I walk like a robot? Or an Egyptian? 

I'm finding that others have described the feelings I've had about this. 

For a while, I honestly felt that, along with my physical abilities, I had lost a strong sense of myself.  I think that's what pain, dependency, and inability to do your usual activities over an extended period of time can do. I submit that my hold on my sense of self has  been somewhat tenuous at times, and I'm prone to feeling lost in the midst such challenges. Plus, I admit that I pondered the "Why Me?" question.

I am happy to report, that I am getting myself back, day by day, and made a giant leap towards that with my hike in the woods, however short. I am what I do, and that's the truth, if you partly define "do" as how I think about myself. 

I am not unchanged. I don't want to close this post in the grip of a giant cliche, but I'll say this whole experience has me thinking more often about my precious life and my ability to do the basics - like walk, care for myself, engage in activities outside the house, and more. I am grateful, and I also need to do better at these things. Time is running down for this life.

I often used to quote from an old song: The best is yet to come, and, babe, won't it be fun?!!

It's really up to me. May it be so!