Our Senior Center activities

Me with two other volunteers

Last year, I decided to help at the Senior Center and along with many others, we created an assembly line to pack 1,200 lunches to be distributed the next day, at the Senior Day in the Park annual event. I actually had a really good time, and this week I have decided to join the volunteers at the Senior Center who help serve lunch to dozens of senior citizens who receive a good meal for a donation (or not) every weekday. I will try to schedule a couple of days every week.

Friday was my first day to see if I am interested in doing this on a regular basis. It was different from being on an assembly line, like the one pictured above, but I found out how the process is managed. I felt a little bit like a fish out of water, not knowing where or what to do exactly, but I was mentored by Tom, a fellow volunteer and after a taxing three-hour initiation, I decided that this is going to be my next task: learn how to become part of this team of volunteers and do a really good job. I was on my feet the whole time and working hard, my favorite way to get exercise.

I was really impressed with the coordination and dedication of the volunteers. I learned where everything is stored, and how to help set up the eleven round tables that occupy the lunchroom, and how to keep my hands sanitary (with gloves) and how to make sure that I am not touching any part of the setup that comes into contact with the clientele's hands or mouth. I had to change gloves three times, but I eventually learned the ropes. The seniors come in several times a week, I suspect, for a good meal.

The lunch hour begins at 11:30 and runs until 12:30. The volunteers arrive at 10:45 to get everything set up and ready for the onslaught. Only people who have gone through suitable training handle the food itself, but the rest of us were busy getting everything ready. The large room was transformed from a place for exercise classes to a very well-thought-out place for a lovely lunch. I wish I had taken pictures of the transformation, but I was, well, busy. I helped to bus the tables when one person was finished, so that another patron could sit down and enjoy a spotlessly clean space and nutritious meal.

I was also taught how to help those who need assistance in getting their tray and finding a place to sit. Then I would ask if they wanted coffee or tea (glasses and pitchers of water were already on the tables) and bring that to them. This was the only place where I noticed my eyesight was a hindrance: unless I have full light, I cannot see well enough to pour liquid into cups. I found some places where there was more light, but I still think I'll have to find someone to help me. Otherwise, my vision was quite sufficient for the tasks.

During the lunch hour, I walked between the tables looking for anyone who needed anything, and cleaning up after people were finished. Since these are seniors, there was plenty of variation in ability throughout the room. I feel very happy that I am in good enough shape to assist others, and I found myself feeling very good about the whole day.

People are allowed to stay and visit with others until 1:00pm, but as the time passed, more and more people left and we were able to clean the tables and utensils (like salt and pepper shakers) until everyone was gone and it was time to put everything back. Nothing was left undone, and I have to say it works like a well-oiled machine after years of perfecting the lunch hour routine. One lovely lady (who is perhaps my age, but who knows for sure?) thanked me profusely for my assistance and after everything was wrapping up, she pushed her walker towards me and again thanked me for doing this task. It was the first time I could see what a difference it makes to acknowledge people for their assistance. I still can see her face in my mind's eye, and it makes me smile with happiness to think of her.

In the woods

It is a pretty big change from my usual activities, such as the one in the picture above. It's time for a change of scenery, I guess, but the woods will always be there for me to enjoy for as long as I can continue to hike and walk. It's awfully nice to think of what I have in store for the future, which will entail indoor activities more often, but I will continue to be surrounded by wonderful seniors who inspire and inform. As the days continue to shorten and we move into the fall season, I will be stepping lively in the hallways indoors and the byways of the outdoors, all in the company of my fellow seniors. Life is good!

Nobody made a greater mistake than he who did nothing because he could do only a little. —Edmund Burke

And this morning I am sitting here in the dark, once again, noting that the sun won't rise for another hour or two. My sweet partner sleeps quietly next to me, and I am careful not to wake him as I tap away at the keys, grateful that I can still see well enough to write a post. Grateful for my many blessings, which also include you, my dear virtual family members. My cup runneth over. 

Until we meet again next week, I wish you health and happiness, and a fervent wish that all good things will come your way. Be well.

Puzzles and lazy days

Sky, harbor, and boats

I think this is one of the prettiest sky pictures I've ever taken. It's one of those sky situations that comes just before a weather change. We are just finishing up a short-lived heat wave, not terrible like some parts of the country (and world) have just endured. But it only has to get into the low eighties (28°C) for me to be feeling like wilted lettuce left out in the sun. This may be partly due to my age, since the past five years or so have seen a definite diminution in my ability to function in the heat. It might be also partly due to having become a Pacific Northwest denizen, too, since we don't usually get much toastier than that, even during the hottest days of summer. We never reached 90°F this year, thank heavens.

It astounds me that it has already been a week since I last wrote in here. How is it possible that time has accelerated so much that I barely feel recovered from one week before the next one is at hand?

How did it get so late so soon? It's night before it's afternoon. December is here before it's June. My goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon?—Dr. Seuss

 I know this happens to many of us as we age: what used to seem like a long time, such as a week or a month, now seems to pass in the blink of an eye. Already I am seeing the signs of fall, leaves beginning to turn and fall from the trees, with winter not far behind. Didn't summer just begin? Or, alternatively, in the Southern Hemisphere, winter? One of my blogging friends who lives in Australia has been showing the spring flowers emerging, with their tulip festival coming up soon. It heartens me to realize that seasons are not constant on our gorgeous planet, but vary depending on which side of the equator you are living on. What a beautiful world!

This is one of those mornings when I have little to no idea what I'm going to write about. I'm happy that I can still see well enough to get up, make a cup of tea, and come back to my comfy bed, prop myself up with pillows and open my trusty laptop and see what comes out. I will continue to do this for as long as I can.

I will have my fourth eye jab on October 7, and already I look forward to that date, and experience, not only with dread, but also with hopefulness that these treatments are slowing down the progression of my geographic atrophy. Nobody is making me take them, but I wouldn't miss them on purpose, no matter how much I don't want the treatment. Anything that will keep the central vision on my remaining eye from going away sooner is worth it. When it is gone, I will no longer be able to do this, because I will not be able to see anything but a blur instead of seeing the words on the page. You can get used to pretty much anything, but losing one's ability to see takes some special determination to deal with. But I am not the first to go through this, and I will always retain my peripheral vision. I'll not be dealing with total darkness.

Another activity that I will probably have to give up is doing the NYT puzzles that have become part of my daily routine. It all started with Wordle, the five-letter puzzle that gives you six tries to figure out. I am currently on a streak of around 150 days without a miss, although I did cheat once or twice by looking up the answer online when I got stuck. Then I started doing Connections, a word game that gives you sixteen disparate words, and you can make up to four mistakes before the game is over, trying to figure out the connections between the words. I enjoy that game the most when I'm playing it with someone else, usually a coffee shop companion. My friend Steve wakes up in the middle of the night and solves both Wordle and Connections before arriving, so he will sometimes give me hints. Sometimes the game seems very easy, but usually I am not successful at getting all of the categories.

More recently, I've started playing Strands. The game begins once you start finding words in a 6x8 grid, going up, down, forwards and backwards. The goal is to find words that fit into that day's designated theme, but puzzlers only have a hint to that theme. The trick is, the theme is itself one of the words hidden in the grid. I find it very satisfying to play this game and don't usually miss a day.

And lastly, I play the NYT Mini Crossword Puzzle. It's a short one, taking usually under ten minutes for me to figure out the words, although the biggest, larger crossword puzzles usually don't keep my interest long enough to finish them. I put them in the same category in my mind as jigsaw puzzles, which some people love but I find boring.

Working these four puzzles every day gives me a great sense of accomplishment and satisfaction, and I'll miss it when I can't do them any more. For now, I am enjoying each day. I learned online that playing these games increases dopamine, a neurotransmitter that makes one feel good and helps with focus and the ability to pay attention. Makes sense to me. In any event, I don't usually work any of them until I am at the coffee shop with my iPad.

And I think it's probably a good thing for me to start doing some volunteer work. I've done a little at the Senior Center lately and think maybe that would be a good place to start doing more, or perhaps the Assistance League, where my friend Steve volunteers. For five years I volunteered to help people write their End-of-Life directives, but the program was curtailed; it's only recently that I've begun to miss volunteer work, and I can certainly do plenty even with my low vision. Just thinking about it gives me a little frisson of energy, so that will be my next project. 

I do enjoy just small little activities, always trying to get my daily steps in, deciding what to eat for the day, and hanging out with my guy. My life is pretty full, and even though I can see how it has been changing lately, I can still feel great pleasure and satisfaction in every day. Today will begin, after I get up that is, with doing my daily exercises and a meditation session, then heading off to breakfast with my friend John. I have much to be thankful for, and once again I am reminded of my virtual family, that means you, and how much joy you give me every single day. I'll read the posts that appear in my news feed and comment on them, happy to learn how you are doing in your own little corner of the universe.

My tea is gone, SG still sleeps quietly next to me, and it's getting to be time to wrap up today's effort at a post. I do hope you will have a great day and week ahead, and that we will meet here once again next week. Until then, I wish you all good things.

Decades of skydiving memories

Me in front, SG behind at Skydive Snohomish

September is a memorable month for the two of us, because we both started skydiving in early September, albeit a few decades apart. He made his first jump on September 1, 1962, and I made mine on September 3, 1990. I have written about some of our adventures in many earlier posts, but today I want to return to the incredible story of us together in the 1990s, never considering that we would end up getting married and, even more incredibly, find ourselves happily together more than three decades later. I will be lifting some earlier writing because I feel some of it doesn't need to be improved upon. Two years ago, I wrote this excerpt about what he remembers, all these years later:

There I was, scared shitless! Jack, the pilot of his Piper Cub, had me sitting in the back seat, and he said, "okay, climb out!" It was a very tight fit, so I scraped the back of my container across the back of the door, and then there I was on the strut, and my parachute was falling out, so Jack pushed me off the airplane. I don't remember much after that. But what I do remember is that when I was about to land, I was steering and it was looking okay, but suddenly I realized how fast I was coming down. The ground jumped up and hit me! I was twenty years old. I could hardly wait to do it again!

There wasn't even a Drop Zone for him to find to land at, but he managed to figure it out while he was under the round canopy, landed safely and was back again as soon as he could, eventually making many thousands of skydives, much of them under rounds, rather than the square canopy design that I would learn under and use, almost three decades later.

I was only going to make one tandem skydive with my instructor, but that isn't what happened. I was completely and totally in love with the feeling of being in freefall and wanted to experience it again. I made two more tandem skydives before enrolling in the First Jump Course at Skydive Colorado in Longmont that September. Before the year was over, I had purchased my first skydiving equipment and would end up making more than 4,000 skydives in the quarter century before I made my last one in February 2015, at Skydive Snohomish here in Washington.

I met SG on a now-defunct skydiving message board, where he would post stories about his skydiving career, and I couldn't get enough information about skydiving there, so I sent him a private email, and the rest is history. We corresponded by email and then phone calls for several months, before deciding it was time to meet. After several months going on like this, he eventually quit his job in San Francisco and moved to Boulder. It was a rocky beginning, but we eventually decided to get married, which we did in freefall over the Longmont Drop Zone.

May 5, 1994 over Loveland, Colorado

I was wearing my "wedding dress," a custom-designed jumpsuit with rainbow grippers, since he loves rainbows. He passed to me what we called the "baton of commitment" in freefall, and we specified in our marriage certificate that we would be married when we passed through 5,500 feet of elevation on May 5th. (We left the airplane at 12,000 feet above the ground.)

So, as you can see, this post is about several anniversaries: our wedding anniversary and our first jumps. Although we are no longer active skydivers, we will always be connected to the sport. Some couples might say (for example) that they still have Paris, but we will always have skydiving. Although the memories might fade as time goes by, the amount of time we spent in freefall will never change.

Since it has now been so long ago, we have incorporated a kind of shorthand in our language that recalls some of those moments, but other than that, we are simply octogenarians with an interesting past. The sport has moved on, and much of what people attempt in freefall these days doesn't interest me. I learned how to fall and control my body in a belly-to-earth position, but now people like to make formations while attempting to hook up in a vertical position, head down or feet first. It makes for a faster fall rate and therefore a shorter skydive. I was quite accustomed to having almost a minute of time in freefall before needing to separate from my companions and open my parachute. As I've said many times before, nothing stays the same, and change is the only constant in life. Even freefall positions.

I would never have been able to even dream of the life I have lived, since much of it was way outside of my ability to imagine it. Who would have thought that a casual incident of making a tandem skydive would have caused such a major shift in my life story? Certainly not me. But my partner of more than thirty years still sleeps next to me, and although I have some injuries that will never leave me, I wouldn't trade those years for anything. If I think about it, I can still remember the feeling of the nylon of my canopy as I prepared to repack it in order to make yet another skydive. But life moves on, and as amazing as it is to me, I have little to no interest in pursuing stories about the sport. It's like remembering my school days; they are still there in my memory, but don't hold much interest to the person I am today.

I do hope that the holiday weekend, Labor Day, will be a good one for you, if you live in the United States, that is. I don't think it's a global holiday. I am so fortunate to have plenty of sunshine without terribly hot temperatures, surrounded by signs of the fall season to come. My favorite time of the year. Please be safe and don't forget to think of all the reasons you have to be grateful for your life. It too is not permanent, and we need to remember every day how lucky we are to have this time. Be well, dear friends, until we meet again next week.