AGING WITH GRACE

As I bump into things with my shopping cart at the grocery store, I turn to people around me and say, “Grace is my middle name.” I can remember as a girl when boys would line up to dance with me during dance contests because I was always one of the winners. I did fine as long as the music was playing. Once it stopped I tripped over my own feet on my way to sit down. As I age, I am reminded of the old Mary Tyler Moore TV series where Dick Van Dyke would trip over a hassock on a regular basis. Prat falls are within my expertise. They aren't intentional. Once or twice a year I find the irregularity in pavement and am down for the count, usually landing on my nose. If life had a theme song, mine would be a chorus: “She flies through the air with the greatest of ease”. Just last weekend I gained a fat lip from an encounter with a curb as I crossed a street. Since I was in downtown Princeton at the time, I walked to a local ice cream shop and got a chocolate sugar cone. Apply cold to swelling,,,right? Ice cream therapy eases such things, and also helps to compensate for the embarrassment of having a small crowd form around me as I was lying by the curb.

I'm dodging cataract surgery. As the light dims in my little world, I look better to myself in the mirror. For that matter, everyone looks better. I don't see little flaws as easily. The only problem with that is I don't see clearly enough to know when I need to clean out the refrigerator, or when there are spots on the bathroom tile from washing my hair after I color it. I have solved that problem now. A housekeeper comes in once a week! I know! I know! Eventually I will have to have the surgery, but at least when I do, I will see a sweetly spotless home. As lovely Rachel pulled apart my refrigerator yesterday and scrubbed it, I marveled that she bends and twists so easily. I couldn't make those moves even if my eyes worked properly.

Since I signed up for housekeeping, I thought I might as well go the whole route so I signed up for a noontime meal in the dining room where I live in senior housing. I get to go out to eat without going out! Rachel's husband Abby is the server. He's as warm and caring as Rachel is. I feel like a well loved mother with loving adult children. When we surround ourselves with caring adults, growing old feels like being five years old. We can do all sorts of things and can learn anything, but we don't have provide for ourselves or do the chores other than washing a few dishes or taking out the trash. All that is required of me is to swallow my pride and say “Please!” and “Thank you!”

The grace that comes with aging, is in those people around me who care enough to lift me up from the curb, clean my home and serve me dinner. I just have to show up. Put on some music, and move the hassock. I can do this thing!

THE PAUSE THAT REFRESHES

I went to the doctor yesterday, and now I have to make an appointment with a heart specialist. NOT QUITE SEVENTY takes on a whole new meaning. As a sober alcoholic of nearly forty years, I have already acquired the habit of living one day at a time. I am reminded now of my early sobriety when each day seemed especially precious. I was only thirty then. I found out I was pregnant and had cancer and my husband left me...all in my first few weeks. Life was stressful to say the least. I was young. I was determined. I learned to trust God.

So here I sit, curious about what the future might hold, or even how long the future might be, but other than conquering nervousness about dealing with doctors, I can't think of any stress in my life at all! I have commented often that my life has gotten so enjoyable that I must be going to die soon. My sense of humor keeps kicking in. Laughing at myself is one of my favorite pass times.

When I was younger, I took life too seriously. I learned to let go and laugh and decided about twenty years ago that I was here just for the fun of it all now.

I colored my hair in June. Initially I looked like Ronald  MacDonald's grandmother, which is what happens when you add auburn coloring to white hair. I added more brown to the coloring the next time I colored it and I look slightly better now. People have told me I look years younger. I have wanted to ask, "Just how old did I look before?"

In July I began power walking for twenty minutes each morning. I felt like Rocky Balboa as I returned home and hopped into the shower. My blood pressure dropped below 120/80 and I was delighted. Yesterday the Physician's Assistant told me not to power walk. She said I can take a stroll, but not to force anything. (That's no fun!) A friend suggested that I listen to music or a recorded book as I take my walks.  I can do that. I'm a bit of a space shot, though. I can picture myself getting all caught up in a book and tripping over my own feet.

Many years ago a spiritual adviser asked me if I was willing to fail at everything I attempted. It was a startling question. I've thought of it often, as I watched relationships and activities that I poured my energy into go up in smoke.  Being willing to lose, to chalk up my losses and carry on has given me a very full life. Now that there is less time ahead of me than there is behind me, I ask myself if there is anything I really want to do.

I'd like to have a vacation that includes time walking on a beach.  I could stroll easily there.

Slow Me Down Lord

Slow me down Lord
Ease the pounding of my heart
by the quieting of my mind.

Steady my hurried pace
with a vision of the eternal march of time.
Give me amid the confusion of the day,
the calmness of the eternal hills.

Break the tension of my nerves and muscles
with the soothing music of the singing streams
that live in my memory.

Help me to know the magical restoring power of sleep.

Teach me the art of taking MINUTE vacations,
Of slowing down to look at a flower,
to chat with a friend,
to pat a dog,
to read a few lines of a good book.

Slow me down Lord
and inspire me to send my roots
deep into the soil of life's enduring values
that I may grow toward the stars of my greater destiny.

 Author: Wilfred A. Peterson

CHOCOLATE CHUCKLE CAKE

I baked a cake yesterday. I allowed it to bake an extra five minutes and it still fell in the middle. I covered one piece in canned raspberry pie filling, and later had a piece with fresh strawberries. Both were delicious, but more like having a moist brownie with fruit than a piece of cake. Another case of "making due" that may not have looked incredible, but tasted just fine.  I identified with my cake.
There are those who would refer to me as "half baked".

Will I make this cake again? Sure I will. I will simply set the oven higher than 350 degrees. I'm one of those "try, try again" people. I'll get it right eventually.  I'm not in life to impress anyone. I'm here for the fun of it all. I have more fun sharing my "failures" than my successes now. When I succeed I just grin and carry on. It's when I fail that I run to find someone so I can share a chuckle.

Campaign Apocalypse

I've just spent a few months following politics online. I have learned a lot of things that I really wish I didn't know. It seemed important, though, to read and explore and gain a better understanding of what is going on in government. Having done that to my satisfaction, I now hope to retire from that effort and restore an order of joy in my life.

I am a creative. I'm a writer, an artist, a poet, a crafts person. I noticed that the more I studied what was going on in the world around me, especially in my own country, the less I created. My sense of hope and enthusiasm began to dry up. I'm not sorry I made the efforts that I did. I felt a responsibility to make an informed decision before casting my vote this fall. I've done that. It's time to play once again. The only way to achieve a happy ending is to practice before it arrives.

GROWING OLD---A DAY AT A TIME

It's birthday week
The child within me claps to celebrate
Foolish old woman that I am
I'll be 69 this week
If I don't get hit by a truck before Saturday

I look in the mirror and laugh
As the question, "How did this happen?"
Comes to my mind
How many thousands of people
Have had the same experience
The stages of life are lessons in humility
For us all

My poor old laptop computer
Acted so badly
I thought I'd have to buy a new one
But a technician told me to upgrade to Window's 10
I'm doing that now
Perhaps that's how I'll view my birthday this year
I will upgrade to Beth 69

THE SHRINKING WOMAN

I'm on my way down to large. I figure if I want to be a happy little old lady, the key word is little! I'm already happy, and getting older. I'm not dieting. Diets only work for a little while and then I gain back any weight I have lost. At present my face, arms and legs look fine. I simply have the shape of a pregnant woman. I suppose that is one step up from a sumo wrestler. When I was a young woman I used to call myself a broom stick with door knobs. I had no hips.  Then I had my daughter and gained an hourglass shape. I have come full circle now. I am a pear.

I am now five pounds lighter than I was when I turned 65. I'm due to be 69 next week.  I figure if I can continue to lose 5 pounds every four years, in another 24 years I will be at a weight I can really enjoy...but then I will be 93. It makes more sense to simply celebrate my new clothing size and get on with enjoying life.

A MATTER OF VALUE

I belong to a site online that sends a daily challenge to members each day. Today's challenge was to wear an outfit that instills confidence some time in the next week. I saw that as backward to my way of thinking.

 A woman from my medical insurance company called me and asked me to do a survey yesterday. She listed off things my primary care physician will want done when I make an appointment. I have no desire for most of the procedures, so I told her that for as long as my body is still my own, I will be saying no to most of the requests. My reply to a colonoscopy is, "You want to put that where?" No way. I also refuse to have my breasts ironed. I had that done once and promised myself to never do that again. Well, you get the idea. I am 68. I'm already five years older than my brother was when he died. I feel fine. We all have to die of something. How I live is far more important to me than how I die or when I die. Having someone call to try to frighten me into taking tests I don't want, isn't my idea of a healthy experience.

I helped the woman to laugh before she hung up. It's what I do. I was dressed in only a house dress and I had my dentures out at the time of the call, but I was not lacking in confidence. My personal value or ability isn't dependent on anything outside myself...other than God. It is I who give value to my clothes (and all other possessions) not they that add value to me.