Christmas Eve at Lake Padden

Lake Padden a few years ago

I think I have used this favorite picture to show what a beautiful place I live in, all year round. This was taken on Christmas Eve, and I have always enjoying see the soft clouds, a bit of snow, and the lake all together.

There are so many people in the area who will have experienced an especially difficult season, with many nearby communities needing time to get back to normal, after the floods and washed-out roads. We were spared, but it doesn't mean that those we love and know well are not suffering. And now it's gotten cold, with projections of days of sleet and unpleasantness ahead. It's the first official day of winter.

Winter's official start is today, December 21, at 7:03am Pacific Standard Time. It marks the longest night of the year and the shortest day. From here on out, we will gain more daylight (a little at first) and it will continue until we reach the Spring Equinox in March (wherreis year, for some reason, because we are no stranger to these wet periods. Can it be because I am getting so much less vigorous, and realizing that my sweet partner is having to learn to deal with working without one arm (actually one elbow joint) for the foreseeable future?

Yesterday, I finally made the move to my next project: learning to "read" whole books on the Audible app on my phone, which I downloaded to be able to read a book suggested by SG: Ram Dass' amazing book, Still Here: Embracing Aging, Changing, and Dying, written in 2000 after he survived a debilitation stroke.

It was just before his 70th birthday, and he went on to live a productive life until he died at 88. I remember reading his "Be Here Now" book many times during my thirties. And then I lost track of him for many years. He lost the ability to walk and his speech was impaired, but he took up other activities and remained very active in spite of his debilitating stroke. I recommend the book enthusiastically. I am about halfway through it, listening to it through my hearing aids as I sit in my favorite chair in our living room.

I had been putting off getting the app, believing my failing vision would help me continue living my life in a way that I could cope without major changes. I do think that the dreaded eye injections slowed the progression of the disease somewhat, but when I started them a few months ago, there has been no discernible change in my central vision in my left eye. I have, though, lost color and notice how difficult it has become for me to look at pictures and tell what I'm looking at. Given enough time, I can figure it out, but now when I write these posts, for instance, I use my bright headlamp to find the right keys, and it takes me a long time to finish them. Much longer than I would have believed possible. Once I find the right keys, I plow through the words, hoping I am making sense and rechecking the letters (with my trusty headlamp). I now have three, along with magnifying glasses.

The stroke has given me another way to serve people. It lets me feel more deeply the pain of others; to help them know by example that ultimately, whatever happens, no harm can come. 'Death is perfectly safe,' I like to say. --Ram Dass

I hope that some day I will see my encroaching blindness as a gift, maybe one for others, as he says here. But for now I am just trying to cope, trying to remember that when one part of our lives is diminished, others transform to help us find new ways to be. I am still very much alive and kicking, as they say, and I know how much it helps to serve others. I found that out in becoming a volunteer at the Senior Center, helping others to enjoy a good lunch. Although it's not been all that long since I began doing this, I have made so many new friends, those whom I look forward to seeing as they come in the doors and make their way to a seat. This past Friday we had a Christmas lunch, roast beef, mashed potatoes, rolls, buttered carrots, and pecan pie. I had the veggie version, which was also delicious. I was able to take home some of it for SG as well. We had a piano player bringing us happy tunes, then a violin playing all sorts of delightful music. The atmosphere was festive and everybody seemed to be having a good time. I was tired by the time it was all over, and my friend Michelle gave me a ride home, so I didn't need to stand in the sleet waiting for the bus to show up.

I got a call from John yesterday to tell me that our mutual friend Gene is in the hospital. He had a stroke, not a bad one, but they found he has had many of them lately, so he will have his carotid artery scrubbed today, Sunday, before they let him check out of the hospital tomorrow. He recently lost his longtime partner Paula, but her daughter will be taking care of Gene as they leave the hospital and he recovers.

Life is uncertain, but it sure helps to have loved ones to be on the journey with us, doesn't it? As I look over to the other side of my bed, where SG sleeps quietly, I feel incredibly blessed to have him. I watch him as he copes with the life we have today, and I am both impressed and grateful. He is actively working to find alternative ways to get around. Tuesday he has an intake conversation with the transit bus people: it the bus that comes to your home and takes you to your destination. It's part of our local bus service; you need to qualify (I'm sure he will) and then you get to use it.

The next week will bring the holidays to so many of us, and soon we will enter a new year, a new beginning, with spring not that far away. I hope you will enjoy a wonderful holiday, and that we will meet here again next week to ring in the New Year together. Until then, I wish you all good things. Be well, dear friends.

Double whammy

Harbor rainbow

We have been having the most rain I can remember since we moved here in sixteen years ago. Several nearby towns were evacuated and a few were flooded completely, not more than a few miles from us. We got almost four inches of rain right here in Bellingham last week, but other than it being extremely wet and difficult to navigate, we were safe. I took this picture of a rainbow over Squalicum Harbor a few years back; we haven't had enough sunshine for something similar right now. Until today, when the sun came out to remind us that it is still up there above the clouds.

I rode the bus a few times this week, but mostly stayed inside. I didn't go to the Senior Center for yoga on Wednesday, because it was raining so hard I didn't care to be out in it. And we had another problem: SG caught his shoe on a rug in the living room and took a hard fall. At first, he thought it was just a bad bruise. We didn't know it yet the time, but he broke his arm at the elbow. Over a few days, it got more obvious that it was not going to get better without treatment. So, I drove him to the Emergency Room in the middle of the night on Wednesday. You know I wouldn't have attempted to drive unless it was really important, but the rain had stopped and it was a clear night (early morning, actually: I got to the ER around 3:00am). I was able to see the lighted road and with his help, made it all the way there without incident. Once we got there, we went into an intake room and were eventually given a room to wait for the doctor. He took a look at the swollen arm, which was so painful that SG cried out loud several times before he was finally given some intravenous pain meds. Gradually he became more able to deal with the pain. 

Eventually it was x-rayed, confirming a fracture just below the elbow, and he was fitted with a sling and we made our way back home. It was light out by the time we set out, seven hours after arrival, and once we were home, I called a friend and asked for her help in getting to our pharmacy for the pain meds. By Wednesday night, he was in less pain, and I was able to help him into bed, and we spent a restless night trying to cope with the trauma.

I was really worried, but he was able to get some sleep, as was I. Not much, but enough. Thursday morning, I knew I wouldn't be going to my volunteer work at the Senior Center, but the main thing I needed was to make sure he ate something and was able to drink some water. I was very encouraged to see him relax a little.

Meanwhile, I got a text from my rental company that my check for December had not arrived. I called the bank and found that they had mailed it on December 1, and it was already the tenth of the month, with no sign of it. I was told to write another check and get it to the Property Management office. Well, I don't write checks any more and didn't have any. The bank sent me some, and I found out how to get to the management office in order to get the check there, and I called the bank and stopped payment on the missing check. My dear friend John listened to my story while we were at the coffee shop on Friday, and he drove me there. I walked the check into the correct office, and I hope this is the last I hear about that awful scenario. On top of SG's accident, I was afraid of late fees and whatever, but I think I was told that since it was not my error, it should be okay.

But this was on top of the scary scenario with SG, so I was a bit of a basket case and didn't go to my Friday volunteer work, either. So, Saturday morning was the first time I felt almost normal in a week. The sun was finally making an appearance, and we (Steve and I) walked around the harbor for a short while, so I got some exercise for the first time in several days. Me, who almost always gets ten thousand steps; last week was an outlier.

So that is what this post titled "double whammy," but with the rain, it might have been appropriate to call it a "triple whammy," And on top of all that I have felt barely able to hang onto some sense of normalcy. At least it's incredibly warm here, with record temperatures set while the rain fell. We have another, less intense but scary, atmospheric river coming for the next week. If I look at the good side of this time in our lives, we still have a dry home to live in, and we have health insurance we can afford, while much of our country is facing dire increases in costs. So I should be grateful for what we do have going for us, and I am. 

Today my friend John will come to take me to breakfast in Fairhaven. I hope that happens at least, so I can have a nice visit and time with him. What would I do without friends like him? I don't need to wonder because he's still there. Life is hard right now, but the sun is rising on a new day. I have struggled to get this post written, so I'll call it done, well enough for now. I hope you have a great week ahead, and that you will be here next week when the saga will be behind me. Thanks for hanging in there. Be well.

Another trip around the sun

I loved this dress

I have no idea what prompted me, the toddler in the picture above, to show you my underwear and pretty slip. Yes, that toddler from decade ago is definitely the elderly octogenarian settled into her easy chair in the living room, getting a start on tomorrow's Eye on the Edge blog post. (Now I'm in bed writing, the next morning.)

Lately, I have reverted to toddling, much as I must have done in those days. When I get up out of bed and make my way to the bathroom for my nightly visitation, I think I remember what it was like to be on my own two feet but not feeling all that steady. That toddler has no excuse, other than just being just a little past babyhood. For me these days, it's because of having used the current body for so many years that it's beginning to wear out. They do that, after all. The toddler was visiting her grandparents and other family members in Burbank, California. I think it was summer, looking at the flowers and all that. I can almost smell that crisp ironed dress. Wonder when was the last time I wore something like that.

It's been a hard week with a lot of weather to deal with, mostly rain, with much more on the way. Also, because down in Florida, we lost a family member: my sister's 15-year-old furry companion. Icarus was only very rarely sick, and didn't seem frail at all, when last week he began to shiver and was obviously not feeling well. Norma Jean took him to the vet's, who ran some tests and learned that he was very sick, terminal in fact. Within a few days, he went from seeming fine to needing to be taken across the Rainbow Bridge. After all the goodbyes and plenty of tears, Icarus was buried in their back yard, next to Zen, another companion who died a few years ago.

Icarus in his happy place

I wish we could do the same for us humans as we are able to do for our furry family members. He got sick and when it was obvious that he needed to be put to sleep, he was gently nudged across the chasm between worlds. We humans, however, are put in an ICU and subjected to lots of pain and indignities until the end. I'm glad that some states allow assisted suicides, like my own Washington State. They make sure regulations are followed, but nobody needs to suffer for months on end.

Fifteen years is a long time for a dog to live, although Icarus was a small ten- to eleven-pound Papillon breed. They tend to live a bit longer than larger dogs, but they don't ever live long enough. This is not the first time Norma Jean has lost a pet, and she knows she will eventually get used to this new reality, but it doesn't make any easier. There is now a dog-sized hole in all of our hearts that needs to heal, but the scars will remain to remind us of his sweet presence.

We have some really scary weather on the way, starting late tonight and continuing until Friday, with some places looking at perhaps seven inches of rain before the atmospheric river moves out. Up here north of Seattle, it might not be as intense, but flood watches are issued for all rivers and lakes in the state. Fortunately, I have lots of rain gear and will try to stay out of the worst of it. At one time when I first moved here, I didn't mind getting soaked, but as I have grown accustomed to it, now I prefer sunny skies and fluffy clouds. You don't move to this area if you are averse to lots of rain, however. 

I am beginning to think about the rest of my day. John will be here in about an hour, and I will have done my exercises and meditation by then. I will also have finished writing this post, and thinking about the dark days to come. We have two more weeks of shorter days and longer nights, until the winter solstice on December 21st, early in the morning here. Then the days will slowly grow longer and the nights shorter, until the summer solstice in June. I hope I will be here to take yet another trip around the sun.

In winter, the stars seem to have rekindled their fires, the moon achieves a fuller triumph, and the heavens wear a look of a more exalted simplicity. Summer is more wooing and seductive, more versatile and human, appeals to the affections and the sentiments, and fosters inquiry and the art impulse. --John Burroughs

And I do hope the coming week will bring plenty of joy into your life, and that your umbrella holds up in the weather. I wish you all good things, my dear friends. Be well.