Octogenarian's song

Some of last year's beauties

This coming Thursday, if it doesn't rain, Melanie and I will head down to the Skagit Valley and enjoy the Tulip Festival, since the early tulips have finally begun to show their magnificence to the world. We would have gone last week, but they weren't opening up quite yet. Here's what the Tulip Festival website says now: they're coming out, opening up to the sunshine. A little late, but still.

I have finally seen some early tulips around here, with many other gardens teasing me with their unopened buds, and just a few that receive south-facing sun have actually bloomed. Tulips are such pretty and ephemeral flowers (like most), just around long enough for one to admire and enjoy before they leave for another year. I have now visited the valley long enough to have seen them over many springtime flowerings. I cherish every single spring, and I've now seen more than most people are given: eighty! From the time I was a little toddler until today when I am now officially old, these springtime memories fill my mind and heart and I am overflowing with gratitude for my myriad blessings.

There's more to life than just existing, and I think I have been given the opportunity to know more of life's peaks and valleys than many other people have. For one thing, here I am beginning the ninth decade of life, when I know that not one day of one's existence is guaranteed, and in full knowledge of the brief time ahead. I have lost enough people during my life that I know the importance of celebrating the time we have together. SG and I have shared more than three decades, and I can only hope for a few more days, weeks, months, years to share with my life partner.

Looking back, I see how much the world, and especially my little corner of it, has changed during the time I've been alive. In 1942, when I was born, there were around 2.5 billion people alive on the planet. Right around the time I celebrated my eightieth birthday, the world population hit 8 billion. No wonder it seems more crowded wherever I go, it really is! Almost more than quadruple the number of people: that is not easy to overlook. And that's just the number; our world is drastically different today than it was then. I figure I'm lucky to be old because whatever changes are in store in the future, they probably won't all be rainbows and light. 

But then again, nothing is our future is written in stone. Nothing in our past, either. It all depends on one's perspective. I keep thinking about how quantum mechanics and Buddhists keep saying it's all in our minds, literally. That our experiences are created by our mental processes, and that they are not true for any of the other many minds outside of our own. And my memories of past events keeps changing as I continue to reminisce over this one or that one. I realized the truth of that when I found that I was alone in remembering certain events a certain way, and that when I recalled it once more, it had changed in the way I remembered it. 

You would think this would be disconcerting, but instead I find it sort of comforting, knowing that I can begin to remember people and places in ways that are happy rather than sad, if I (heh) put my mind to it. Sorry, I couldn't help myself with that thought. I'm sitting here in the dark with my dear partner sleeping quietly next to me, and the rain is pounding on the roof as I listen to what is happening outside. John will not be coming to take me to breakfast this morning, because he's sick with a cold. He tested twice for covid, but it appears it is either just a cold or maybe flu. He didn't give it to me, thank goodness, or I think I would have started to develop symptoms by now. I haven't had a cold since I started wearing masks during the pandemic, and I figure that the first one I get should be a doozy, after so much time not getting sick.

And of course, it will come sooner or later, because there are so many germs floating around everywhere, since we are perfect vessels for them to invade. I read somewhere that wearing a mask not only keeps one from being easily exposed to germs, but the warmth of your breath behind the mask also seems to offer some protection against infection during the winter months. 

We are now well into spring, and I am truly enjoying the blue skies (when we have them) and the incredible sounds of birds, now that I have my bionic ears functioning properly, and lovely green everywhere interspersed with the bright colors of flowers of every sort. The lilac bushes are showing big buds just a week or so away from flowering. One of my favorites, along with tulips. At this moment, as I sit here in the dark, I am feeling very content with life and hoping that I might find some time today between the raindrops to take a lovely walk in Cornwall Park, just a short distance away. The park has some magnificent old growth trees that greet me when I walk my normal path, and I greet them back with gratitude for their presence in my life.

I sometimes really wish I could sing, but my voice has become old, just like the rest of me. When I hear someone like Judy Collins (she's 83 and still singing) or Joan Baez (82, who I'll bet still sings in the shower), I figure I could work hard at it and find some voice that could carry a tune, but I don't even try anymore. I do sing to myself sometimes when I'm walking, which is how I know how much my voice has changed over the decades. The birds don't seem to mind, and I certainly love to listen to them as they call for mates or simply sing for the joy of it. I didn't realize how much I missed the sound of birdsong until I got my new ears.

Well, this has become somewhat of a meander through my disconnected thoughts, but it makes me happy to realize that I can still string together a bunch of them and get them onto the page without much difficulty. Another thing that has changed for the better as I have grown older is that the digital age has given me so much more connection that I ever thought I would still have after so many years of retirement. My entire virtual family is here, and we share posts and thoughts with one another that give me great satisfaction. And from all over the world, too! If I dreamed this up through my mind, it is simply one of the best things ever. You, my dear friends, are cherished and loved, and we get to share that with each other every day, every week, every year. To that, I give a resounding YES. 

I am overflowing with gratitude right now, which is how I really love to start the day. I'll search for some good coffee and wish John a quick recovery, and next week I'll be back here with some more memories. Until then, be well, and I wish you all good things.