Another tumultuous week

Teeny little buds taken yesterday

Yesterday I walked with Steve, not for long since he had an early breakfast to attend, so we walked on the Boulevard Park trail until he had to turn around the head back. We didn't even make it all the way to Woods Coffee (which would have given us a five-mile round trip), but it was such wonderful sunshine and nice weather that it didn't matter that much. We've had days and days of sunshine and little wind, but very cold temperatures, right around freezing overnight.

I took this picture as I walked up my driveway to the apartment complex, after taking the bus back home after Steve left for his breakfast. I saw that there are actually a few little buds on the branches of the lilac bush and captured them for a nice picture to brighten the mood. I am always happy to spend some time with Steve before he goes off to his various activities. 

John called me early in the afternoon to cancel our Sunday breakfast, as he decided to watch the Seahawks game, which started in the evening, and he won't be getting to bed Saturday until late and we old folks don't do early mornings very well if we are up "late" the night before. The Seahawks trounced the 49ers. Now they will play the winner of today's game between the Rams and the Bears. Listen to me, sounding like a real fan. I really don't care, but everyone around here is riled up to have the Seahawks in the Super Bowl and maybe even win it.

Sports are a good distraction from all the other news of the world. I have been struggling with my ability to cope for several weeks now. I once upon a time had a strong sense of optimism about how everything would play out, but that is gone now. After the Minneapolis shooting, I have begun to find myself in sadness and fear much more often than usual, even during the dreary winter months. I also think turning 83 has reminded me that anything happening at all positive is beginning to become less and less likely. Is that partly because it's normal to feel all these aches and pains and have so little to look forward to? Or is this just a phase? It doesn't help that slowly but surely I am losing what's left of my central vision. Peripheral vision is not only intact, but I tend to think it's even better than it was before this started happening to my sight. I can still drive, carefully and cautiously, in short trips to familiar places. I realize lately that the most difficult part of my low vision is not having any depth perception. Did I tell you about me waiting for a robot to cross the street, only to realize it was a parking meter on the sidewalk and as I walked, it moved with me? I smiled at the misperception, but often I realize that is the most difficult part of being out walking. When the sun isn't up there, showing me the truth of my surroundings, I am at a loss.

Probably the hardest part of aging is realizing that you are not going to suddenly spring up out of bed and feel like things are getting better. That's not the way it works, but frankly when I look at my life, it's not all that bad or difficult. But there is a "yet" lurking in the background, because that's the way it works as the days, weeks and months fly by.

I have become more reliant on my headlamps to help me get around in the dark, even here at home. Now I sort my vitamins into their cubbyholes using it, and having several of them around to use makes a huge difference. Bright light is essential to me these days.

Strange. As I sit here in the dark, with the light from my laptop making it somewhat easier to read, I think I should be happy that my sight seems to have ecome more stable. I attribute that to the awful shots I received for almost a year, every six weeks without fail. I realize with these new treatments, there are no long-term effects to study and decide whether or when to stop. I stopped them when I could no longer afford the hundreds of dollars they were costing me, once the help I received from the insurance company stopped paying. And now I know that my sight had stabilized and the shots are no longer necessary, at least in the short term. I know that at some point I might begin to notice more degradation, but for now I am happy to say that I can still see well enough for most tasks I take on. 

The new operating system for the Mac also has lots of vocal stuff to supplement the visual stuff. I haven't installed it yet, but I will, and I am definitely already using some of the vocal cues to help. So, things are not that bad, and I am looking forward to much more help from my laptop and phone in the coming days. SG got the new system installed yesterday on his Mac, and he is anxious for me to get it installed and learn about it.

One of my most favorite things to do these days is walk to the bus and ride it to town, to the coffee shop, for exercise and social interaction. I am very happy that my hips and knees are mostly functional, still, in my early eighties and beyond (who knows for how long?). Life continues on, with many happy moments if I don't expect things to stay the same forever. One thing I have to acknowledge and be grateful for are my loved ones, my friends and family, and that also includes you, my dear virtual friends.

Until we meet agian, I wish you all good things. Be well.