Forty Years

(My husband and I with our lives stretched out before us.)

A few weeks ago a dear friend died, leaving his wife of 45-years and a young, vibrant family behind. He died way too soon. His funeral was last week. Attending were a myriad of people, bits and pieces of his life throughout his lifespan.

He and I met while I was still riding my bike around the block - around 13 years old. Throughout the years we shared many memories, a lifetime of laughs, and a few tears. We've been a part of different groups of people, corresponding to whatever our interests were at the time. But throughout, we have remained friends. Separate, but somehow together.

As I've mentioned, a diverse group of people attended the funeral, but none more interesting than the group we were friends with at the beginning. The ones we were friends with while on the cusp of early adulthood. I had not seen many of these people for 40+ years. We literally lost touch for the bulk of our lives. We went from young and hot (a euphemism used by several), to grandparents in a blink of an eye. The middle years somehow cut from the whole, leaving bookends, instead of chapters.

We caught up on marriages, children, illnesses, and gossip. Was there really some question about the gun used in our friend's suicide 25 years ago? Could her husband have been the culprit? How is your sister? Did she ever marry that guy you hated? Seriously? They want to remove your entire colon? You talked to my ex-husband last week? I'm so sorry to hear about the death of your daughter....

On and on we tried to fill in the blanks. To match the face in front of us to the face we remembered. The twenty-something that had life stretching out before them, with everything still to come, to the face that has had its share of pain, strife, struggle, and joy. Grandchildren. Comparing numbers, you could see the pride we all shared in our little ones. Most were close to their own children and had good relationships with extended family. A few struggled with substance-abuse issues and one or two actually found themselves in really bad circumstances at some point in their lives.

(My dearly-departed friend.)

One thing stood out. None of us were unscathed. We all had something that we endured that put a wrinkle here or worry-line there. I guess that's what life is about. Dealing with the curve balls as best we can and enjoying the small things that life has to offer. Like old friends catching up on the years, sharing stories about the ones that are no longer at the table.

He would have loved every minute of it.

I hate to say this, but I might have to do Facebook.

How To Be Alone

I borrowed this sweet little video from Secret Notebooks...wild pages. It reminded me of those days before I married my husband and I lived alone. I remember the challenge of those years for me, surrounded by cohorts that were getting married and starting families. I wonder what I would do now, thirty years later.

I think of my mother-in-law facing this test at the advanced age of 97 after 67 years of marriage, and I am startled by her strength. I think of a dear blogging friend at the beginning of this journey, and I feel her fear, pain, and sorrow. How do we traverse this uncharted territory when our lives have been about sharing with others?

I guess we do it one step at a time. I guess we do it by being patient with ourselves.

Under a two-year-old thumb!

("Peace" from a two-year old.)

Two year-olds rule, there is no doubt about it. I had forgotten the power they wield. From daylight to bedtime the day revolves around my grandson. It's been twenty years since I've spent 24/7 with this particular age group. Bedtime has never felt so good! Ha.

And why is it, exactly, they seem to get more energy the more tired they get?

Of course all the incredibly cute and ridiculously funny things they do and say more than makes up for dragging tails at the end of the day.

I am helping my oldest daughter get settled in her new home. It has been a house with only one male this last week. This tiny male is an exacting supervisor. My daughter and I have missed his father and grandfather more than once in the last week. What is it about something that is put away being an attraction to take back out? We all know what it's like to move and finally get something put away, knowing you have 80 more boxes right behind that one. Naturally, this is very interesting to my grandson, who feels the need to take it back out to examine, only to abandon said objects in a heap, once he has satisfied himself that it is safe for his mom or grandma to come along behind him.

Pizza for breakfast, and late nights not-with-standing, I wouldn't miss the opportunity to be of service. It feels good to be needed, really needed, once your children are grown. It's that time between needing, and being of service, that is so good for the soul. I tend to take it for granted, sometimes. I've reminded myself that it might not always be this way. It may have been that remark my daughter made about me never dying, that she needed me to be here, that I realized that it wasn't always going to be so. I won't always be here. I won't always be strong enough to chase a two-year-old, 24/7. All things pass.

But for now, I am going to be grateful for the opportunity to feel needed. A simple thing, really. And it's the simple things that I'm paying attention to lately.

And also that only young women have babies.

A few years...

http://www.terragalleria.com/index.html

I am beginning to believe that having a few years on your "playlist" is not so bad. I started to really think about age a few years ago, never really minding my aging body and face. Some might argue I'm being too lackadaisical about the whole thing, and should do more to stave off the ravage of time. But, for the most part, I get what aging is all about.

We see things differently when we are not focusing all our attention on ourselves. Let's face it, when you are in your teens and twenties, it's all about how everything affects you. It's not a bad thing, don't get me wrong. It's natural, and part of the process. There is energy, excitement, drama. We have our whole lives ahead of us, and we are reckless, drunk with the ripeness of it all. The early part of our lifespan is designed to set the stage for what's to come.

The mid years are all about everyone else. We work, plan, cook, clean, do yard work, budget for college years. If you have children, this stage is anything but about you. But even if you don't have children, it's about your career, bosses, spouses, families, significant others. We constantly compare ourselves to others, to those that we admire, we strive to climb the ladder of success in whatever field we choose, to be the best that we can be. We also accumulate. Usually too much of everything.

By the late-mid years, my tag, not the social scientists, you realize it's not all about you, and yours. There is more of an understanding that others matter, that life is better when it's simpler, and the need for things diminish. Now it's about remaining healthy, active, and mentally nimble. Time to care about the little things in life. A nice meal with someone you love is a beautiful gift. A small home is cozy and comfortable. Flowers are to be admired, almost irrationally. Walks are not something you have to fit into your busy day, but are a main staple of the day. Life is slower, but sweeter.

It is this point in life that you realize it won't stay this way. You know enough to know that the only constant in this world of ours, is change. You know that you probably will face some physical problem, or twenty, in the years ahead, so you are grateful for what you have. The realization that life is precious, and should be savoured, like a fine wine on a summer evening. That the season will change and the leaves will fall, and winter is just around the corner. But the summer and fall are noticed, and dearly appreciated.

Death with Dignity

http://www.terragalleria.com/index.html

I read this article today on dying with dignity. It was about a center for Catholic Nuns, who are surrounded by fellow nuns and priests, choosing to die without much medical intervention. A topic whose time has come as baby-boomers enter their senior years. It is fraught with misunderstanding and potholes. Not the least of which is the fear of "killing old people", and not providing health care based on age. But the fact is that millions of very old people are put through tortuous tests and procedures at the end of life, without any alternative. We simply have not thought through the medicalization of the dying process. It is a huge drain on our health care system, and the results are always the same. No one is going to get out alive.

So what to do?

Well, for one, we need to educate ourselves on what a "good death" would look like. Hospice is a wonderful program, but I think what is needed is more information before we get to the end stages of life. Maybe we need to look at it from a life-span perspective. A part of life, just as important as the mid-life or child-bearing age. Actually train people, as part of a curriculum, to be care-providers for only this stage of life. We have full course studies on early childhood, maybe we could do the same with end-of-life issues. Maybe we could provide beautiful centers, complete with music, outdoor areas, large windows to look at beautiful landscapes, massage, acupuncture, spiritual advisers, entertainment, intellectual stimulation, and most of all understanding of the process of dying. Taking away all the procedures and medications, not used for pain control, should free up money for these centers. We also need to keep people home when we can. Let them be surrounded by what they know and the people they love. Dying doesn't have to be the fearful, painful process it has become. It can be a time to celebrate a life well-lived. We just need to learn how to do it.