NATURE'S SERENADE

Trumpet vines reaching for the sky

waiting for the hummingbirds to stop by.

Feeling alone 

but how could this be

surrounded by the songs 

of the birds and the bees.

The evening sounds pulsating 

by the cicada’s dance

Frogs and crickets darting about

taking a chance

while bats join 

in the evening flight

of birds gathering 

in the waning light.

How can one feel so alone

surrounded by nature's serenade

quiet I sit as the evening sun starts to fade.

I ponder, as the day is done

is it just me…am I the only one?

I am reminded by the frog's bullhorn blair

that I only need to look to see them there.

As one day ends and I say good-bye

to the pain I carry 

that could make me cry

I settle in for the night

surrounded by the moon’s guiding light

as the frogs and night birds sing

hoping that a new day will bring

the music of the birds in flight

showing that everything is alright

I’ll just step outside and wait

as trumpet vines reach for the sky

waiting for hummingbirds to stop by.

WHAT'S NEXT?

One would think as we age, life would be easier to navigate.  Life experience does bring wisdom, but aging can bring events into our life that we have not experienced, proving that living life at any stage can bring new challenges.

As I look around the neighborhood (a 55 plus community or active adult community as they like to be called) I can see the future.  Like a train coming at me in a tunnel, there is no escape…at some point, I will be slammed just like others before me.

The one thing I am determined to do is to live and not be a financial burden to my children.  I hear them say to me, “Mom, don’t worry about not spending your money…live and have fun.”  Inside I am thinking right…wait until it is time to change my diaper!  There is a joke circulating that reads:  Does anyone know why baby diapers are called Luvs & Huggies while old people diapers are called Depends?  Cause if a baby craps in their pants, you are still gonna Luv'em & Hug’em. If an old person craps in their pants, will they still be Luv'ed or Hugged? That "Depends" on who's ass is in the Will.”  We old folks may laugh at this one but I have not heard anyone tell this joke without hearing a chorus of “ain’t that the truth” following.

So I am exploring the “what’s next” in my life.  I am proud of the fact that I am living and doing what I am doing at this stage.  My husband was uninsurable since he was 36 due to medical conditions so there was not a large life insurance policy to pad my aging days.  What I am living on is what we together saved during our working years.  With wise advice and prudent spending habits that allowed us to enjoy life and still save I am lucky.  But with my health being good, and money not easy to grow, I must maintain the balance in my life that I have always lived in order to continue my independence.

Like many I am sure, I feel out of sink with the world.  I’m 69 and still full of spunk and a desire to wander around and see a few more things before I can’t.  As I see it, I have about 8 to 10 good years left in me that I can do these things without any physical handicaps.  And because Pat and I were “cheated” out of those opportunities by his illness during those “empty nest” years, my desire is strong.  But few my age are as wanderlust as I am.  They have already traveled….gone places….done things…they are content with a trip nearby and hanging around home.  I get that, but for me, that means traveling alone and a higher cost for a trip.  So that being said, how do I make my money stretch so as not to be a financial burden to my kids and still enjoy my days doing a bit of what I want to do.

 So, I begin the journey of looking to downsize.  These decisions are not easy and cannot be addressed in one writing.  I am discovering it can be very complicated and VERY expensive.  I cannot imagine as the baby boomers fill the senior spaces available how competition for the limited opportunities for seniors will only increase what is already a pricey adventure.  No wonder I see so many around me still working to make their money stretch.  

So my first thought is, do I want to get a part time job to make my money stretch?  But then that really limits my ability to travel and seems to defeat my goal.  So staying here and working does not seem to be the place I want to go to first.  

When I let it be known to my kids what I was thinking I had one son who offered up his place with a willingness to install a mother-in-law apartment in their home.  A possibility.  But I worry that the one that gets me gets me until the end.  I was thinking about the 3 that have settled into homes and their lives.  All of them got a helping hand, even if a small one, in some way when they bought their first home.  I worry about my daughter, who alone in life does not have a working partner like the others have had…and part of me would like to provide that helping hand to her like the others got.  So “moving in” with one has some positive opportunities.  But before I make my final decision, I shall explore other “senior” possibilities.

I’ll let you know what I find!

IT FEELS GOOD!!!

Looking in the mirror as we age can be a challenge.  When I see a photo of myself it is different in my eyes than when I look in the mirror, phenomena that we all experience.  I think of my sweet mother-in-law when she attended her 50th high school reunion at Trainers Restaurant.  She walked in past the ballroom where a crowd had gathered, stopped at the reception desk and asked where the 50th high school reunion was.  Pointing to the ballroom she just passed, he said, “Right in that room Ma’am.”   “Oh no,” she replied, “that can’t be, they are all old people in there.”  

I have a question.  When you run into someone who is your age, do you find yourself thinking, “I wonder if I look that old.”  Me too!

I am discovering that losing weight at this time of my life is different too.  I am not doing this because I want to look “beautiful”.  The mirror tells me that every time I see the lines, the sag, the fact that I can slap you silly with my saggy breasts.  The mirror is not my friend at this stage of my life, but it has made me realize that it is what I am feeling that counts these days more than how I look.  

It also begs the question, if I can feel so good going down in weight, why does that leave us when we are going up.  Is it all in the head?  I am sure some of it is.  But when I can walk up a hill and not drag for breath, it feels good.  When I can stop eating before I hit the bloat stage…it feels good.  My spirit is lighter with each pound I have lost and not because I look young and beautiful but because I feel young and energetic.  

I am now ready for those road trips in life.  Those things I want to do are now possible because I can walk without pain, sleep without pain, be physical with pain…okay that last part may be pushing it, but I am once again realizing that I can do anything I want within reason.  Having a 69-year-old body does have its limitations!

My weight loss journey is still a journey I am embracing…it is working and I feel good.  At this writing I have entered a place I have not experienced in over 20 years.  For those who have inquired…I’ll keep you up to date on my journey…no matter where I end up.  For now, it just feels good and I want to hang on to that!!!

GIVE BACK MY COUNTRY?

Life is messy.  It has always been messy.  But being messy is not bad.  It means we spend a lifetime of accepting the change that occurs…always, hopefully, trying to make it better than it was.  So this begs the question, what does it mean when I hear someone say they want their country back.  I wonder, back from who?  Back from what? 

The phrase, “give me the good ole days”, always sets me off.  For me, these are the good days…not the 40’s, 50’s 60’s….not even for a second.

I remember those days as everyone having a place in society and severe consequences if you broke society rules or was not born the right color or in the right place.  If you are a white man, who had money in his pocket, you do miss those days.  But for everyone else, life was a struggle.  Women who were being beaten in their marriage, kept it quiet and hidden because the choice was to be out on the street without any support system to help them get back on their feet.  

A woman pregnant out of wedlock?  You had hell to pay.  Often sent out of town for the duration of the pregnancy or get married immediately, even while in high school.  Forever branded, few had second chances at life.

Sexual abuse as a child?  Hide it.  Don’t raise a fuss.  After all, if you did tell, it was often the victim who suffered the consequences of the reveal.  Few times did the perpetrator ever get punished.

Women who had a “reputation” were in the end shunned and scorned.  But the men who played this game were treated as heroes in the conquest game.

Married outside of your faith?  You would often be thrown out of the family for such disrespect.

Were you gay?  Who knew?  Gay men and women were buried so deep in the closet they could hardly be found.  Overhearing a conversation a while back, I heard, “I didn’t realize there were so many gays.”  

Marry a person of a different color?  Forget it, you were often driven to live in the big cities where at least you had a chance to live without harm. Have children? They were the ones who suffered the name calling and bullying.  Acceptance in our society was difficult at best!

Life has always provided opportunities to challenge what we believe.  The moral choices that we made today can seem a no-brainer, but at the time, it was painful and a struggle to accept the changes it brought.  

I remember the 60’s and early 70’s when our country was in a state of upheaval and we all wondered where it would all end…would we survive…would there ever be peace again?  Free love and drugs would prove to have consequences…eventually we learned.  We grew up.  

I am glad to have been born in the United States of America where we have struggled since we accepted the Bill of Rights and our Constitution, to honor “where all men are created equal”.  It is not always easy.  Fear makes us do strange things.  Hard choices make us want to retreat into what is familiar.  Strangers can sometimes scare us until we stop and get to know each other… man to man…woman to woman…child to child and recognize in others that which is in ourselves.  

I don’t buy the cry, “Give back my country.”  We have it now.  This moment.  And it is our responsibility to always carry the torch where all men are created equal so we can live in a world where all are treated equal and with respect.

You can have yesterday if you want it…but give me today.  I am happier here in the now!

MY WAR ON ME

I have not spoken much about my war on me.  It has been a long one.  Those inner voices that scream at me about how I don’t measure up to the rest of the world.  It dawned on me the other day, that if someone outside myself would actually speak to me that way, I would be fighting back.  More important if I spoke to others this way I would have no friends….EVER!!!!  So why do I do it?  

I have not said much about my new adventure in Weight Watchers.  But self-image is the core of my war. I have been going to WW since the middle of January and for whatever reason…this time, it seems to be working.  My fight with body image began very early in life.  I don’t recall not ever feeling fat and out of place.  When going through some old files I came across my 5th-grade report card where it showed my height and weight.  In 5th grade, I was 1/2 inch off my adult height and 155 lbs.  In 5th grade, I was my adult size surrounded by skinny “little girls”.  I carried that weight until I was pregnant with my first child at age 24.  Each of the four pregnancies put on more weight…and so goes my life.  

Another reminder of the outer messages received as a kid can be found in my autograph book that our 8th-grade tradition provided for opportunities for us to wish each other well in our high school life.  But along with the typical “Wishing-you-good-luck-in-high-school” thoughts were messages that said, “Fatty, fatty, two-by-four, can’t get through the kitchen door,” and “Roses are red, violets are blue, I’m sorry your fat and so are you.”  There were others too that were just as flattering.  Messages that I laughed at but inside the knife went deep.  

With an aunt in our family that topped 300 lbs, I was always told that “you are just like Aunt Betty”.  Another cut….As my pregnancies added more weight to my body, phone conversations from long distance family members would always include, “So have you lost any weight lately?”  Always a reminder that being me as I am was not good enough.  So the war in my head went on.  No matter what kind of person I was, or what I accomplished, or what I did…it was never enough to say I was okay.

So here I am…69 years old…alone and feeling in so many ways that I am still not good enough.  When I went for my annual physical this year, the doc said to me, “You know Marlene, you are so lucky to be as healthy as you are at this age with your weight….if only we could get you to drop some of those pounds.”

So, like many other times before, I decided to take myself to Weight Watchers and give it a try.  And this time, for whatever reason, it is working.  In the past I would go to WW and the first week would be great, the second good, the third I would begin to white knuckle it, the fourth and fifth weeks I would be looking for excuses to miss the meeting.  You know…I would gain so if I missed this week and was good the next I would go next time and lose…only that would not happen and I would drift away.  But not this time.

Since the middle of January I have lost over 23 pounds, but more important I feel physically great.  The new program is my perfect fit.  But more important is the inner war that always waged on no matter what I did… is quieting.  Really.  For the first time in too long to remember I am not screaming at me about what a failure I am.  The tools that WW shows me has given me choices and not made me feel like I have to deprive myself in order to loose weight.  Instead, it is choices…and I seem to have transferred that thinking into other areas of my self-worth.  Choices.  One simple word but the power it gives…amazing.  

I am making no promises here…just taking one day at a time and learning that the power of my choices can still allow for good times and happy moments. I am also learning that I am okay just being me and I can only hope that all of this can help push back those aging issues that can take us down, leaving me with time for all those adventures still on my bucket list, because by damn I am going for it!!!!

FOUR YEARS GONE

Excuse me if I am not myself right now

It is an anniversary I have to get through somehow

Four years gone, how can it be

That four years ago you left me

You said I would be tough

And be just fine

Your strength you said

Came from mine

I wish I felt

What you said you knew

It would help me now

And get me through

These times when you are missed so much

I would give anything to feel your touch

So excuse me world if I am not myself right now

It is an anniversary I have to get through somehow.

ALL OF US HAVE A STORY!

I just finished watching the final episode of this season of Finding Your Roots.  I love this show.  It confirms what I have always believed.  It is not enough to know just the names of your ancestor’s.  It is more fun and meaningful to know the story of your ancestors and this is why Memoir writing is important to me.  

When I was a young wife and mother-to-be I began to recognize how the impact of moving to Pennsylvania from Illinois would have on my children and their ability to know me through my own upbringing.  My husband’s family had already demonstrated to me that get-togethers were full of stories of past memories, filled with laughter and lots of love.  I recognized also at the time, that although I was running from my own childhood memories, I did turn out okay and there had to be a reason for that too, so while pregnant with my first child, I decided to collect the stories of my family and so began a life-long journey of learning through stories shared of who my family were.

It was the best gift I could have ever given to myself.  In asking questions of my grandmother, aunts, uncles, and cousins, I learned that all that I perceived through life was not as it was felt and, in the end, it became a healing experience.  For in searching for the stories of who my family were and how they lived I learned that what I was feeling from them had to do more with their own experiences than what I had done to experience a negative moment from them.

I have watched time and again the celebrities express a longing about why their own parents had not shared this or that piece of family history only to discover they may have suppressed the information to hide from their own pain.  Once the story is revealed to them the level of understanding that sweeps over them often fills them with a strong emotional reaction.  

All of us have a story to tell.  Decisions we make can leave a lasting impact on those we love for generations that follow.  When the truth behind those decisions is revealed it can change the impact left on those left to deal with the outcome of those decisions.  

Funny…how we keep things close to the heart on the pretense we don’t want to hurt anyone, but the truth is we are just unable to deal with the pain of some of that reality ourselves leaving the generations that follow to puzzle the why of things.  

As I watched Dustin Hoffman and Mia Farrow in this last episode all I could think was how the truth can set you free.