Love and loss

Bellingham Bay at Marine Park

On the calendar, this coming week is one where we celebrate love, with Valentine's Day, and seeing the bare beginnings of spring on its way. It was partly cloudy when we went out for our five-mile-long walk yesterday, Melanie and me.

You get older. In the end, you end up accepting everything in your life — suffering, horror, love, loss, hate — all of it. —Harry Dean Stanton

Today I'm thinking of what I've gained and lost during the long years of my life. I don't believe that most would consider my life as one they might want to have, instead of their own, unless perhaps they are in Turkey or Syria right now and have lost everything: family, home, safety. The loss of loved ones can be borne with enough time and space from the event, but living through an apocalypse like the earthquake that has killed a minimum of 28,000 people, with probably many more bodies to be unearthed before it's all over, is horrific. Anyone who has lost even a modicum of what these people are enduring can identify and relate to their suffering.

When I was growing up, I was incredibly fortunate in my early life, well fed and taken care of, with no idea what my life would be as I matured. I gave birth to my firstborn just before my nineteenth birthday, just a kid myself, but I loved so much being a mother and caring for my infant son. I gave him what I experienced in my own early life: safety, comfort, food, shelter. By his third birthday, all that had changed. I had given birth to another son, but Stephen died just after his first birthday, of spinal meningitis. Chris not only lost his brother, but his mother as well. I was a basket case for many years and did not give him the love he deserved. And it was the beginning of many years of strife in my own world. 

But that was then. Nobody continues to go through such painful periods forever; you eventually pull yourself together and pick up the threads of life and do the best you can. I suppose that is also true when enduring natural disasters: eventually life morphs into a new normal. Although I have had my share of loss, and then some, I have also been blessed to experience much love from my wonderful family and friends.

Most of us have the same sort of lives: a lot of good times and bad times, hard moments and delightful ones. I have noticed that sometimes an event will stand out in my memory and can be remembered again and again. Not only happy ones, but awful ones as well. With each remembering, the event subtly changes, as memory is not very dependable. But there are moments that stand out, hardly change when I recall them, such as those moments when my two sons came into the world. Both times I was ecstatic and felt incredibly lucky. On the other side, I also remember the moment I hit the ground when I broke my pelvis in six places during a botched parachute landing. I remember that moment very well, although it was almost a quarter century back in time. My life took a serious turn into injury, followed by many months of recovery.

These days, I am busy enjoying the later years of my life, with a wonderful partner who helps me navigate every day, sometimes with laughter and sometimes with tears. We love each other, more today than when we first got together, which is such a bonus, and one we could not have imagined as we gazed into our future life together. Marriage always has its ups and downs, but after I had experienced three failed marriages before we got together, it was in no way guaranteed. But here we are, proving that love and affection can rise above all the tribulations that we have faced together.

Today we also face the loss of our faculties, as we move into our eighties. I finally got my hearing test, through the local university which has a training program for new audiologists. I had two trainees and one experienced teacher who put me through extensive tests before showing me the results. I had hoped that my hearing loss would be minimal, but I learned that I definitely have lost my high-frequency hearing, and cannot distinguish many consonants from one other. It was not a surprise, but I held out hope that I wouldn't need hearing aids. Not so. In a week or so, I have an appointment to receive them, and although my medicare advantage plan pays for some of the expense, I will also have to fork over $2,000. I will receive a 60-day trial period, a three-year warranty, and 150 batteries, each of which only last about a week, as I understand it. Plus I get an advocate who will work with me for several months; I don't want to make such an investment and then end up with them living in a dresser drawer rather than being used.

We have five senses: taste, smell, touch, hearing, and sight. Three of those five are compromised in my case (everything but touch and taste), and I could be very discouraged if I decided to let myself go there. But what good would that do? Growing older is a gift, not one without thorns, but a gift nonetheless. I am still able to take a brisk walk for up to seven or eight miles, thanks to my trekking poles, and I can still manage most of the postures in yoga, even now. I have plenty of friends who are in the same boat as me, and we commiserate with one another and give each other useful tips for navigating the choppy waters of The Eighties.

I cannot expressing adequately how much I appreciate having this other community, the virtual one that puts me in touch with so many others around the world who have joined me on this journey. Some live nearby, in my state and many in Canada, and some on the other side of the world. As we live our lives and blog about our adventures, as well as our trials and tribulations, I realize that I would be lost without your kindness and love. I hope you will be surrounded with lots of love today, tomorrow, and far into the future.