Trying hard to get back to life

It has been so long since I wrote here, and in the meantime they have changed some things, so I will try to get something in here for my followers to know that I am still alive. Not kicking exactly, but I am not spending all my waking hours crying. At first, that was all I could manage. But it has been six weeks today since SG died. I miss him terribly but this is what all of us mortals must endure, until it is our time to leave. Every one dies, some early and some last, but unless we die young, we all go through this suffering and pain.

My guy and I discussed this in the past, and we agreed that I could go first. But the Universe had other plans and wasn't listening, I guess. I can still end up in a blubber of tears at a moment's notice, but now I spend less and less time in that situation When I lost my first son when I was 22, I took almost a decade to recover. Now I don't think I've got another decade to spare, I hope at least. I'm beginning to think that life after eighty is filled with sadness and loss, but at my current age of 83, I might actually recover and find love again. I will never stop loving My Guy, never, but perhaps I have another purpose here that will emerge in the fullness of time. 

Unfortunately, my eyes intone to detiorate,so writing has braver difficult and frustrating  and causes me to enjoy it less and less. But I have so many wonde4rful friends and relative who will help me get through this and once I gain some per-dive, I'll l46 you know. Maybe even post a picture or two. Eventual, dear friends.

I hope you are doing well 

 and look forward to better days ahead.

DJan

A short update to my new world

I am beginning to get a litle accustomed to being a widow. After having gone through the first few weeks of pretty much grief and disbelief, I am now beginning to realize there is nothing that is going to be the same in my life. My sister Norma Jean came to be with me for a week, which was helpful in a helpless situation. I cannot really function very well, but I thought maybe it would help to try to reach out to my other family, the virtual one which you are a part of. I will try to write in here as I am able.

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Black box with my beloved's remains inside

I received this box from the funeral home, which weighs about eight pounds after cremation. I still don't believe it fully, but I am getting there, slowly. I still awake at night and shout and scream in disbelief. But I am here, and eventually I will be back. I've stopped reading other blogs and feel grateful that I can still feel your love and caring.

'Grim update

 

Taken yesterday

I am thinking that my sweet partner might not make it. This is not what I hoped whould come from this rehab. Even though it's early days, I am not feeling  optimistic. I have been doing some PT on his leg myself, since they don't do any on the weekend there. I will be there today,with no John to share breakfast, since he's got shingles himself. And yes he did all the vaccine, but it didn't keep him from getting it anyway.

I will take an Uber to the rehab center this morning and try to smile and hope for the best. I never have imagined this as the way things might turn out. I appreciate all your prayers and am feeling heartbroken. I know this too will pass, but it's not easy now and will get harder yet, it seems. Sorry to be so down, but I don't feel much hope at the moment.

Sorry to make this so short, but it is difficult to see to write.

Tough times

SG in his bed after surgery

This will not be a very long post, just enough to bring you up to speed with what has happened to us in the last few days. SG was having some real balance issues, and was using a cane to stay upright, but he fell, hard, on his side while trying to get dressed on Friday morning. I had already left for the bus and the coffee shop.

I got a call from him, telling me he had fallen and could not get up. I got a ride home and saw that he was on the floor and was unable to move. It had been a struggle for him to make it to his phone, but he did,and that was when he called me. I could not get him up, either, and he was in a lot of pain. Time to call 911, and in a short while, two strong men showed up to get him transferred into the ambulance. I rode in the front seat on the way there. He was only wearing his underwear, so they wrapped  him in a blanket. 

When he arrived, he was evaluated and moved to an intake room. He was fairly comfortable, but an emergency with another patient happened and we ended up being there for several hours before a doctor could help him. By the time they took an x-ray, it was early afternoon. I got a ride home and learned that he had been moved to the surgery floor. When I got there, they had decided he would need a partial hip replacement. It was schedued for the next morning. They had given him some pain medicine, but no food. Eventually he got a small meal, and I went home, unable to help but was just in the way, SG was such a wonderful patient but was also scared about the surgery.

I learned that I could wait in the room when he was taken up for the operation. The doctor called me after what seemed a short time to say the surgery wa successful and that he would be coming back to the room. I was so glad to see him.

He called me last night to say he had just seen the physical therapist and that they will start PT today! He is in good hands and even if I am not there for this session, there will be others. Hopefully by the time I write here next, we wil be home and I can reach out and touch him. We have a long road ahead, but we will travel it together.

Valentine's Day 2026

Michelle, Byron, and me

We are standing in front of a beautiful tapestry scene, put there to give us a backdrop for our holiday pictures, with hot chocolate and keepsake mugs for us to take home. Our Senior Center administrator hosts one of these occasions several times a year, and this one gave us a really nice place to showcase the group. There were only a couple dozen or so of us, out of hundreds. I had forgotten about the party, but my friend Michelle never misses a chance to have a party, even if it's a small one. She picked me up at home and shepherded me to the Center.

It is so nice to have such a wonderful social venue. I think we are really lucky to have our vibrant and well attended center, and we are expanding to include our numbers into yet another building. It's where my yoga class is held twice a week, as well as Zumba Gold (which I haven't attended in the new place yet), but I will, eventually, I hope. The amount of exercise I am currently getting is much less than this time last year. I've stopped doing many long-time activities because of my failing eyesight. As I sit here in my usual spot early on a Sunday morning, it takes me much longer to get these posts written, since I keep hitting the wrong keys. But even if it takes longer, and tends to frustrate me to an extent, I can still get it done, with the help of my magnifying glass and patience, patience, patience.

My newest friends are mostly fellow voliunteers in the lunchroom. Michele (another friend) just returned from a three-month-long stay in Australia. She travels every year or so with her spouse, always in the winter and finding warmth and adventure wherever they go. I don't have any desire to travel anywhere these days, anywhere that requires air travel or long periods of time away from home. I suppose this is a normal part of the aging process. Who knows? My parents were long gone before they would have reached my current age. I know I don't have nearly the stamina I took for granted not long ago. But now I have so many seniors that I interact with on a weekly basis and realize that I am very fortunate to be as active as I still am. There are probably three dozen walkers lined up on the sides of the room during lunch, and I look at them and give thanks I don't yet need one.

My friend John now has one, which he keeps in his truck behind the driver's side, and he now uses it for walks in the park. He is much more stable and able to go farther when he uses it. It's also nice to have a place to sit down whenever you need to take a rest. Tney are also handy for the bus, too. Must people don't need to ask for the ramp to be lowered but push their walkers up the slope and then find a seat where they can secure it so it doesn't go flying. 

I also received some new Valentine cars this year, since there was a elementary school sing-along after the lunch was over, and many of the kids made Valentine cards for us old folks. I can't remember the last time received one, so I kept my favorite in my keepsake drawer. It will be nice to look at it once I've forgotten all about it. And the kinds were so much fun!

Well, that's about it for this week's post. I do feel an obligation to write one, and that might change in the future, but for now I am happy to still be here in the virtual universe with my dear electronic family. I hope the coming days and weeks will bring you many smiles and delight as the early spring flowers make their way into the sunlight. Until we meet again, I wish you all good things. Be well.

Looking back to look ahead

Mt Shuksan from Huntoon Point, 2011

This lovely picture stuck out of my collection as I went rummaging around in my files for some inspiration as to what to write about. As I examined some of the brilliant memories that I have gathered during my years hiking in the Pacific Northwest wilderness, this one was taken on a snowshoe trip with some other Tsraillazers, probably on a Thursday, up to Huntoon Point, where we often went when looking for some adventure, but not too much.

I can still remember the feeling of being out there in the snow and sunshine, and seeing the bird overhead that kept eyeing us. It would get quite close, but would fly away if I moved too auickly toward it. On another outing, I had seen one of these camp robbers snatch a sandwich right out of the hand of someone sitting down to lunch, and I knew it wa s looking to see if I was going to be a source of food. I took some trail mix into the palm of my hand and made eye contact with the bird. It didn't take long before it was eating right out of my hand, I still remember the sharp talons of his (her?) claws and tried to keep from reacting, knowing that the moment would be over if I didn't stay calm.

We never saw much wildlife at altitude up there, but then again, there isn't much to eat during the winter. We saw deer occasionally, mostly in the distance, and in thr summer we were sometimes treated to seeing bighorn sheep nearby. But mostly it was just a few humans enjoying the wilderness experience by ourselves. Birds are another story, however. The jays and larger birds, like ravens, are ubiquitous in the winter months, however. 

There are moments when I really miss being up there and enjoying the beauty surrounding us, but it's harder these days to make myself push the limits of my ability. That's probably because I am getting older by the day. Little incremental changes are now more noticeable as I spend less time exercising. I am happy for all the many years I spent outdoors and exploring the High Country. Now I am content to keep my excursions short and sweet. 

It's Super Bowl Sunday, the 60th time they will play the top two teams against each other. I well remember when Daddy would watch the game and how much he loved football. I was not exactly indifferent, but I didn't really care who won or lost, or even paid much attention to it. I do remember realizing, when I lived in Colorado, that on a beautiful winter's day, I might be one of the very few people outdoors, while hordes of people gathered around indoors to watch, eat the requisite food like barbequed chicken wings, pizza, and (of couse) beer. Not much has changed in half a century, when it comes to the Super Bowl menu, I guess.

I went looking for a Super Bowl quotation from the BrainyQuote website and, as usual, I spent an hour thinking and perusing them. But somehow this one from Rabindranath Tagore caught me:

I slept and dreamt that life was joy. I awoke and saw that life was service. I acted and behold, service was joy. --Rabindranath Tagore

I figure that quote sums up my current moment. I am writing this post out of service, not because I particularly want to, and here is a perfect ending for an eclectic post. I still need to get up and prepare for the Sunday breakfast I'll share with John, and I need to be ready for the rain as well.

How about you? What will you do with this one perfect day in your life? I always love to hear from my readers as to how you're doing and what's happening in your life today. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things. Be well.

 

Tired of it all

Lily captured this yesterday

In some ways, I feel like I've been wandering around in an endless cycle of distress and stress, with no way to get off and start finding happier times in my future. I know I am not alone in my desire to return to a better, more stable world. We are all, it seems, coping the best we can with whatever tools we have at our disposal.

I am eternally grateful for my family, both physical and virtual, because I know when I hear  from them, that I am not an outlier, that many of us are all having similar thoughts and trying to find some safe space where we can relax and enjoy life. And many of us are also dealing with the problems that come with growing old. The hard part for me is knowing that these little vicissitudes of life only travel in one direction. When I think of who I was a decade ago, I still remember what it felt like, and I know that in another decade (if I am still here), I will have lost more of my faculties; it's how the system works. We old people need to make room for the young to take over the planet, right? This tiny little place we call Earth is almost full to the brim, as we enter into the millennium with more than eight billion of us, living and breathing and hopefully leaving the place better than when we got here.

It's Sunday again, and I am finding it harder and harder to maintain my usual equanimity in this uncertain world. Trying to find ways to be happy becomes a task that I fail at more and more of the time. But I am still trying, and sometimes I even succeed in looking into the future with a hopeful smile. If I could choose my day's focus, it would be to find and share the love, not ugly anger and hopelessness. What good would that do? One dear friend reminded me that Martin Luther King once said that hate cannot be conquered with more hate; only love can do that. And it feels so much better to walk with love by my side than to allow hate to take over my heart.

Advice is like snow: the softer it falls, the longer it dwells upon, and the deeper it sinks into the mind. --Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Hoping to find inspiration, I went over to one of my favorite spots on the Internet, the Brainyquote website. This is the Quote of the Day, which seemed quite appropriate and even hopeful. And here I am, hopeful that the snow falling in the southern parts of our country is soft and clean, just like I want to see the beauty surrounding me, if I just look for it. During the day today, I will open my heart to each person I greet and give each one a dollop of kindness. And miraculously, I'll feel better, too. Funny how that works.

And, just because many of my loved ones are no longer here, I can still look at a picture of my son, smiling at the camera and looking like he's got a secret. Maybe I'll find out one day what it is. Until then, I'll keep on looking for ways to spread love and happiness in my little corner of the vast universe. I hope you will help me with that, since we all need to do our own small part to make the world a better place.

I wish you all good things and also much health and happiness, until we meet again, dear friends.

 

Flowers of ice

Lovely, but not my favorite flowers

I looked in my large collection of pictures for something to start out this late January post with. This was taken almost a decade ago, when I went on a hike up to the lookout where we could see Samish Bay on a very cold, wintry day a few years ago. I am still capable to hiking to this area, but since I am no longer going out with the Trailblazers, I think there would be little reason for me to see this scene again: instead, I'll wait for warmer weather and head on up there at least a few more times before I no longer can.

Every year brings another reminder that there is no way to stop the passage of time, even if I wanted to. So much has happened to me, and to the world, since I snapped this frosty scene seveb years ago. Right now, today, most of the United States is enduring a very cold, frosty winter storm, complete with freezing ice and plenty of snow. We are spared from that scenario here in the Pacific Northwest, but we are still having below-normal temperatures every night. I still go out onto the front porch to do my exercises in the dark, and it still is "warm" enough (relatively speaking) for me to take off my socks and attempt the five exercises with freezing toes. Since I know I will be spending only ten minutes or so out there, and soon will be able to warm up properly again, it has to be well below freezing before I do them indoors. It might not be the equivalent of a polar bear plunge, but I think it makes me a little stronger. And I am still able to brave the cold and allow myself to feel a little virtuous.

This morning I awake to another day of below normal temps, but I feel very fortunate to be here, as I read about all the terrible awful conditions elsewhere, and my heart is breaking for the latest shooting incident in Minneapolis. The videos are clear that the young man was not trying to kill anyone, but he did have a concealed weapon, even if he had a license to carry it, I believe it might have contributed to his killing. But, that said, I have very little understanding of why it happened.

I spent last night trying to keep those awful images out of my mind so I could get some sleep, but I wasn't very successful. I know it doesn't help anything, but I don't seem to be able to train myself to look away. I am just glad we don't have masked vigilantes roaming our cities here in Washington State, and I hope it stays that way, but I have very little hope that we will again be a nation of law and order any time soon. I am so sad and despairing as I read and watch the news. I know, I know: it doesn't help anything and only hurts me to keep on staying current with these terrible events. So, here goes an attempt to change the subject as it roils around in my head.

Today I am hopeful that John will start up his magic carpet known as his truck and transport me to Fairhaven for a wonderful breakfast. It is very cold out there, but it's nothing compared to what the entire Midwest and East Coast have in store for the next few days. I do hope that we get through this without any lives lost. I sometimes wonder how the wildlife copes when it's so cold, but they seem to know what to do better than those of us who live indoors. I remember years ago in Colorado helping to make an igloo, and we managed to spend an uncomfortable night inside it. I didn't realize that, as we tried to sleep, the walls would gradually collapse from the heat of our bodies and warm breath. I woke to the feeling of an icy wall no longer protecting me but falling into the interior. It was not the best night of sleep, but I did realize how I could improve it if I had to do it again. I didn't try to spend another night in such circumstances, though. Now all I have left of that experience are memories of discomfort and a desire to leave such adventures to the younger set.

And it won't be long now before I can leave my headlamp behind, as we are gaining plenty of light every single day as we move towards the vernal equinox on March 20 this year. That is less than a month away, and from that day our nights will be shorter than our days, and the leaves will bud out and the flowers spring out of the ground. The entire Northern Hemisphere of our planet will wake up to another cycle of green and mild temperatures. And here in the Pacific Northwest we will be greeted once again by our old friend, the rain. We won't have to worry about freezing rain by then, not for another year at least. 

Well, I wasn't able to find much to be happy about, but I know that will change as the days pass. I am always happy to wake up feeling moderately content, as I stick my head out from under the covers and start my day in earnest. And I've got my constellation of blogs to read that you all wrote recently. I love finding out how others are coping as well. I hope that you will share some of your tricks with me, letting me know that I am not alone. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things. Be well.

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.

It's been... a week

The Paratransit bus

Last Tuesday, I spent most of the day trying to get this picture onto the website for my usual Tuesday post. I finally ended up posting it without any pictures, which was a first for me. There are many firsts happening these days, as SG and I make our way through the latest iteration of our daily lives. SG applied for and receives permission to use this transit system to get around, sincd with a shattered left elbow and his ongoing blood cancer causing all kinds of difficulties, he can now use this system to get around town.

I've seen this  Paratransit bus in front of the Senior Center often, and he has now used it three times: once to get to the ortohpedic surgeon's office, and twice to get to the Cancer Center. There are no restrictions on use, that we know of anyway, and it's free and available to SG for the next three years.

He had great news at the ortho surgeon's office. They x-rayed the break from several angles and told him that surgery won't be necessary. It's healint nicely on its own, and he is to do some exercises, carefully at first, to regain some range of motion. But, unfortunately that was the only really good news he received this week.

Then, on Thursday, he went to see his oncologist to schedule his first injection of Aranesp, which has recently been found to be effective in increasing red blood cells (RBCs) in the treatment of MDS (Myelodysplastic Syndrome), which his oncologist says he most likely has. It can turn into leukemia, but not always, and now hopefully he is being successfully treated for MDS. Time will tell, but we are definitely hopeful.

He received his first injection of Aranesp on Thursday, a subcutaneous shot, which he said was not painful, just cold. But after he received the shot, his doctor said his red blood cell count was so low that he needed an infusion at the earliest possible time, which ended up being Friday, early in the morning. I left for my volunteer work just before, while he was waiting for the Paratransit bus to arrive. He tolerated the infusion well, but it took over three hours, and he was not there when I returned home around 1:00pm. I was understandably worried about him, but he texted me a couple of times from the Cancer Center to let me know he was still doing OK. Once I arrived home, I asked him how he was feeling, and he told me that already he was feeling stronger and more alert than he had experienced in quite awhile.

Last night, he learned that he will be receiving more infusions, weekly I suppose, until some later time. If he had not had such good response from the first one, I would be worried about all this flurry of activity. He is in good spirits, however, and I think part of that is caused by the infusion of whatever it is they are putting into his body. I wish I knew more, but he seems to be better, and whatever happens next, he is at least in the good hands of his oncologist and we have health coverage, which is more than many people have.

Mushrooms and moss

I wish they could do something like an infusion for my eyes, but I suppose I should be grateful that I still have a little central vision in my left eye. It hasn't gotten worse, and with everything happening, I am grateful. I accidentally smashed my desk lamp to smithereens last week, and I realized that I was unable to clean it up myself, since I couldn't see the shards of glass covering the floor. It was another reminder that I am disabled with low vision, and I can't pretend it's not affecting my life in profound ways. If that Canadian procedure would help, I would find a way to do it, but all the research I have done shows that perhaps it might slow the progression. But that seems to have been accomplished with the dreaded shots. Nothing has changed in the longer term, but I am still able to see well enough to get around and to do my volunteer work, which means I still feel useful. But being old is getting harder. It's almost impossible to plan anything because our day-to-day life is so full of sudden changes.

However, life is puttering along as we learn to navigate our current situation. We have each other, we have the internet and our virtual family and many other positive things going on. I am grateful for what we are able to accomplish, even in the face of illness and low vision. There is always something to appreciate in my daily life, and one of them will be arriving at the front door to take me to breakfast (John). 

With that, I wish you all good things, dear friends, and keep yourself and your loved ones close, safe in your heart. Be well.

Warm and wet, kinda nice

Threesome and beer

Yesterday was a very interesting day, weatherwise, with lots of warm rain and some wind, but also beyond the weather, some delightful visiting with my friend Lily and her son Stuardo, who is visiting her from Guatemala. I hope his visa will help him get back to his country, since it seems like the entire region is now in flux.

I did look at a map and see that Guatemala and Venezuela are almost 2,000 miles apart, so maybe the conflict will not affect his return. More than 300 flights from Puerto Rico have been canceled, I notice. It's a scary time for so many right now, but I think it will be straightened up soon. I hope.

Like I said in my opening paragraph, our weather has changed from super cod to a normal wet regime, and it feels much more normal than the frigid temperatures. It feels almost balmy in comparison.

Stuardo is such a fine looking young man, and he seems awfully old to me, since Lily is only is her mid-fifties. He is 37, but it reminds me that my son Chris was born when I was only 18, three weeks away from my ninetenth birthday. How long ago that was; now I am offically an old person. I have a lifetime of memories to help me remember those early years. I don't like to dwell on them, since there was so much sadness and trauma, nof much joy. Stephen was only 13 months old when he died, and I was 22. Today I am childless and feel a bit of envy when my friends talk about their grandchildren and how happy they are to be a part of their lives.

I only vaguely remember my own grandparents. My maternal grandfather was very ill with diabetes and all I remember about him is being in bed. His wife, my grandmother, lived with us for awhile after he died. She was not a happy person and spent most of her time away from us, Norma Jean and me. And my grandmother was the only person who called my mother "Bitsy," her nickname as a child, I guess. Sparse memories, but partly that might be the case as I was a self-absorbed teenager who only paid attention to things like clothes, boys, and gossip. My paternal grandmother lived in another city, so we seldom saw her. My grandfather had abandoned his family long before I was born, so I never knew him. Even Daddy only saw his father a few times before he died, a hermit living in the California mountains.

So, I never had the usual grandparent attention that many others have had.  It meant, however, that I never felt the need for something many grandchildren experience in their early life. Today, my life revolves around my partner and our quiet life together. He is dealing with a blood cancer that makes him tired most of the time, and I spend my time away from him either at the Senior Center or the coffee shop. I have a few close friends who fill my need for company. Lily is now a friend I have known for decades, and I love her very much. My friend Steve plays Connections with me almost every day I see him at the coffee shop. I see my friend John there, too, but he doesn't play games with me, instead he and I talk together, mostly about politics.

And we have our Sunday trip to Fairhaven to have breakfast together. I am very fortunate to have a good circle of friends, and I cherish the monthly FaceTime talks I have with my sister Norma Jean. She is dealing with the recent loss of her canine companion. In retrospect, my life is quite full and happy. I struggle sometimes with low energy and depression, but it's rare. I also have a virtual family, those I follow who have blogs like me. Some of them I have known for decades, too, and I look forward to finding out how their lives are faring. 

With that last statement, I think I will wind this post up for the week, and start to get ready for my trip to Fairhaven with John. I do hope you will have a wonderful week ahead, and I look forward to seeing you here next week. Until then, dear friends, be well.

It turned c-c-COLD after the rain fell

Along the waterfront selfie

I asked Steve if we would take a picture of us while we walked along Squalicum Harbor on Saturday morning. Our first walk since he returned from Hawaii to visit his mother for Christmas. His daughter Sara was also there, so they had a very nice time in warm tropical climes. Then they had to return to a very frigid, albeit sunny, Washington State.

We walked somewhere around five miles, my first good workout in at least a week, maybe more. It feels good to sit here in my favorite chair, having had such a good time in the cold, but feeling bad that I had forgotten my sunglasses and couldn't find my hat with a visor. Those were all serious drawbacks as I dealt with the incredible sunshine and frosty weather. It sure felt like winter, and I was glad that the rain has left us for awhile, but there could have been an in-between period. But no. In that picture taken in yesterday's weather, it isn't possible for you to see the wind, too, which obviously makes it seem colder. It was barely at the freezing mark, and the strong winds made it feel even colder. Brrr!

We have been relatively warm, considering that it is now winter. Our air temperature a couple of days ago was at least twenty degrees warmer than today's. We have turned a corner and will probably even get some snow here eventually. I was so glad we didn't have freezing sidewalks and roads in our neighborhood. I am still recovering from that icy fall last February. I sincerely hope I don't make that mistake again. I found my strap-on spikes and will not fail to use them if I decide to go out when it's slippery. The weather is always a good way to begin a post that I need to write, without any idea what to write about. It's my self-induced "job" to get something up here, even when nothing immediatcly comes to mind. I could remember previous moments when I was in this same mindset, or I could reminisce about days gone by. Or... I am in a quandary of my own making. Let's start with the good news.

SG has successfully been added to those available to use the Para-Transit bus. His situation has changed, now that he can arrange for the bus system to pick him up at home and take him to his doctor appointments. He starts the new treatment for his blood disorder on January 7th, with a monthly injection instead of daily pills. I read all about it and think it will probably be less difficult to deal with, but who knows with these strong and fairly new drugs? At least our insurance plan covers it.

His broken arm is not hurting him all the time, and he even did his own laundry yesterday, by making the basket into two loads and carefully navigating the stairs to the laundry room. He now has the ability to get to the orthopedic surgeon's office to get his elbow fixed. He's very resourceful and careful not to take another fall.

I am beginning to think that those eye injections helped slow down the progression of the geographic atrophy, since the last few months without them doesn't seem to have made a difference in my ability to see with my left eye's central vision. I thought by now I'd be unable to see well enough to write these posts, but I am still the same, or about the same, as when I stopped taking them. I simply couldn't afford the cost, not to mention the discomfort of getting them. So that's another bit of good news.

I'll talk to my sister Norma Jean on FaceTime on Wednesday and will find out how she's been since losing her fifteen-year-old dog last month. These furry companions just don't live long enough to keep from having to cope with such a loss every decade or so. On aggregate, though, our situation is on the upswing, both physically and mentally. At least we all still have our ability to think and use our brains. There are many people in their eighties who don't have that ability any longer. I might be reaching here to find things to be happy about, but hey, you do what you can to keep going when life gets hard, right?

I am also glad that we are almost through the holiday season. When you don't have family around, you rely on friends to make things interesting. My time with John, my time with Steve and other dear friends makes my world much brighter than it would otherwise be. And having my guy getting stronger every day, well, it makes every moment feel like a blessing. Today John will take me to our usual Sunday breakfast (I'm looking forward to it) and then come home to a warm, safe place during the cold and wind. I am content and filled with gladness that I am still here, still writing, still enjoying life. I hope you will be in the same situation, dear friends. Be well until we meet again next week.

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.

Long holiday weekend comes to an end

Korean vendor's stand at Farmers' Market

 Yesterday, I went for a lovely walk with Steve from the coffee shop to Woods Coffee at Boulevard Park and back. We stopped at the Farmers' Market for a treat that Steve wanted to share with me. I had never before sampled this Korean food, which we bought and shared. We had Korean sushi, not that different from the sliced sushi I am already familiar with, and something called "fish cakes." Steve has been a fan of Korean food since he grew up with all sorts of unusual food at markets in Hawaii.

At the end of our walk, we first enjoyed the Korean version of sushi. It was so good that, once it was finished, I wanted more. Steve suggested that we try the fish cakes, which are long sticks with big bits of dough woven onto them, filled with some kind of fish, I guess. There are both regular and spicy versions; Steve had the spicy (which I tasted) but I had the regular, which was delicious and not bland at all. Our sticks were standing in separate cups with broth. I was a bit tentative at first, but once I realized how good they were, I ate every last bite and drank all the broth, happily.

Although I didn't get the spicy version, I tasted Steve's and knew I had chosen the right one for me. Spicy food doesn't usually keep feeling as hot after a few bites, but I wasn't willing to give it a chance, when my little cup of goodness was just right for me. Believe you me, I will be eating more of this food when I return to the market next time. It was also not at all expensive, and the market has plenty of places to sit and enjoy your meal. We didn't do that, however, because although it wasn't raining, the temperature was on the cool side. Even a little cold. The sky was cloudy, and I didn't see anybody running around in shorts! It's the end of November, after all.

Our Thanksgiving day was a little eclectic, but just right for SG and me. I had purchased all the food we wanted, a little at a time, and instead of a sit-down dinner for two, we simply filled our plates with just the amount we wanted, and started early in the day and still had some left over when the sun went down. And the best part is that we never felt the need to eat more than we wanted, we could start over and have it all again. We had the usual: turkey (of course, with both dark and light meat), really good mashed potatoes, turkey gravy, cranberry sauce, green beans, and a delicious cheese and garlic bread. For dessert, we had pecan pie, just a little side dish sized, to keep from eating too much sugar. It was also wonderful. So we had just the right amount of food to keep from getting too full, but still enjoying every bite.

Thanksgiving Day itself was cold and rainy, all day. Since there were no buses running, there didn't seem to be any reason to leave the comfort and warmth of our home. About midday, however, we lost power and spent over an hour in the dark, not knowing when it might return and bring back light and heat once again. Looking out the window, I could see that the entire neighborhood was dark, and we received a notice on our phones that it might last for a few hours. I was glad I didn't have anything in the oven, but my neighbor did. It turned out to be about an hour long, and reminded me once again of the incredible gift, usually invisible, that electricity is in our lives. It also reminded me that there are plenty of homeless people who don't have it at all, and we take it for granted until something like this happens to remind us to be grateful for it. 

Tomorrow is my birthday, which seems to come around more often than once a year. How is it  possible that I will turn 83, when it was just last week that I endured entering into my eighties? Soon I will be one of the "old old" instead of just being "middle old." According to Wikipedia:

Sub-stages of old age    

Young-old (65-74) years): Individuals in this group often have good health, are less likely to need care, and may still be working or enjoying leisure activities. They are typically more financially stable than previous generations.  

Middle-old (75-84) years): Health limitations may start to become more pronounced, with a higher likelihood of chronic diseases affecting physical activity. Hearing and vision loss can also be more common.  

Old-old (85+) years): This group is more likely to require assistance with daily activities and need long-term care. The risk of conditions like dementia increases, and conversations about end-of-life care and planning are often necessary. 

I am certainly well aware of the changes that aging has brought to me. The hardest one to deal with has been the dimishment of my eyesight. I can no longer read books, and the only reason I can still write these posts is that I wear a headlamp to brighten the world around me and let me see what would otherwise be just a fuzzy dullness. I realize that, since my last birthday, I have lost the ability to see much of the color that I once enjoyed seeing in the world. Depth perception is gone as well. But, happily, my peripheral vision is intact. Other than when looking directly at someone's face, I can look to the side and make out who it is. And my ability to walk without assistance, at least on flat surfaces, hasn't left me yet. 

Sorry, I don't want to think about what I have lost, but instead concentrate on what still works well. I saw this picture when Steve and I were walking in Boulevard Park.

Some of the foliage on the trail

I am not sure whether there would be much color in the scene anyway, but to my eyes it was awfully pretty and worthy of a photo. The main thing I need to remind myself is that so much of what is important to me does not require eagle vision, but instead walking in joy and appreciation of what is around me. Whether I can see it perfectly or not, I can still walk on the trails and enjoy the company of my companion. And here at home, I can also enjoy sharing my life with my dear partner, who sleeps at this moment quietly beside me as I compose this post.

I do hope that you enjoyed your own Thanksgiving week and will continue to join me in our wonderful and beautiful world. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things. Be well.

Thanksgiving week

The Thanksgiving lunch crew

Here you can see the entire group that put on the "Thanksgiving lunch" at the Senior Center last Friday. Since the Center will be closed both Thursday and Friday of the coming week, the staff and volunteers put on a big Thanksgiving lunch for our clients. Being relatively new to the venue, I didn't know what a big deal this holiday is for the Senior Center. I sort of knew it was gonna be something special, when I learned that the volunteer coordinator had called in an extra five people to help prepare and serve the meal. We started our shift early, and by the time we would normally be opening the doors, the lunchroom was already full of patrons! Other people knew what was happening, since the line outside the door stretched all the way through the entire lobby, to the windows and staircase to the downstairs, long before our usual opening time.

I had an inkling that this might be a different time, since on Thursday the lines were long, and we had more people coming to lunch than usual. They were serving Denver omelets, which were incredibly tasty and obviously a favorite of the regulars. But we didn't have any extra staff, so we worked very hard. During my shift on the lunch days, I usually make close to a thousand steps, but by the time we finished and cleaned up the place, I had gotten 11,300 steps! It made me very anxious for how hard we would be working on Friday, but because of the extra staff, it was actually fun and not stressful at all. We must have served close to 200, when on regular days we serve maybe 125 to 150, max. We ran out of trays and silverware, which were scooped up and run through the machines so that we could continue to serve everybody. People showed up when we were normally done, and they were accommodated as well.

After it was over, and everything was back to normal, some of us staff people went out into the lobby and ate our own Thanksgiving lunch. It was delicious, and I decided that this year I will make our meal just like this one: turkey with gravy, mashed potatoes with green beans, cranberry sauce, and pumpkin pie. I skipped the stuffing, not being a fan of it, but otherwise it was just right. Having discovered this volunteer work, I have made new friends and enjoy a really good meal twice a week. Since this is my "pay" for the work, I don't need to pay the $6 that others are encouraged to pay. Nobody needs to pay anything if they cannot afford it, so I don't know how much they made for the Friday lunch, but it was one of the best times I've had at the Senior Center so far.

I had a ride home with my friend Michelle, so I didn't have to walk in the rain to the bus. When she dropped me off at home, I was in a really good mood and looked to see how many steps I walked on what I feared was going to be a stressful shift, but with so many people working, I only got 8,000 for the entire day! It's amazing how different it was than I expected, which reminds me not to anticipate difficulties that don't even exist. 

That would be a good thing to remember during these holidays, which don't usually  bring much happiness for those who are expected to work hard to create a good time for others and to forget themselves. I think being especially grateful and giving thanks directly to the workers will be my mission for the upcoming holidays. It's looking like a very good time ahead, don't you think?

I will take the experience into the day and week ahead, bringing joy and sunshine wherever I can. And the best part of the entire holidays is that I get to share it with my dear partner for at least another year. Several of my new female friends are recent widows, having lost their partners during the past few months. One day, that might be me, but not yet. Not yet: I am filled with blessings and intend to expand them into the world around me. Nobody knows when it will be our turn to make our way across the Rainbow Bridge into the unknown. Until then, I will enjoy and savor every little bit of happiness and joy that I can. Can you feel it permeating the air around us? I can and hope you can, too. Dear friends, I wish you all good things and look forward to another wonderful adventure. Until we meet again, be well.

Late date for Thanksgiving

 

Gorgeous orange wet leaves

Walking home from the bus yesterday, it was raining (no relief) and I saw these really gorgeous orange-colored leaves covered with raindrops from the incessant rain of the past few days. The entire West Coast is experiencing a huge rainstorm, and we are not being spared.

And here I am, nestled in bed like always, but without the slightest idea of what I will eventually write about. I went to bed too early last night and because of that, I woke early this morning. Early even for me, so here I sit, pondering the morning and wondering what will pop out of my brain this time.

I had vivid dreams and thought perhaps I could harvest some of them, but you know what happens when you wake up and think about your dreams: they evaporate with nothing to do but let them go back into the misty corridors of my mind. One little piece still remains, and I thought for a minute it might be real, a thought that I had amassed some bits of material and piled them up neatly. But no, that was the only remnant of my dream that still stuck around. And now I've sent it away, too. Here goes, my now-awake thoughts finding a direction.

I have stopped getting those eye injections, and so far, there has been no more deterioration of the worn-out retinas that are responsible for my failing eyesight. That is what they were supposed to do: slow or stop the progression from continuing to fail. Since nobody knows for sure if they helped or not, I am quite curious to monitor my eyesight as it exists in the moment. I am very fortunate to be able to continue to read, if not easily, I can still do it if I have a bright light behind the text. That's why I am able to use my laptop to write this post. And that means I might not have too much continuing deterioration, but who knows? I can only take my days one at a time, and continue to do for as long as I can, find work-arounds for it all, and stay active as long as  possible, but cut myself some slack for not wanting to walk in the rain all the time. I have quite a few raincoats, which are all getting used, and I find some of them work great, until they simply give up. They can be reinvigorated by a good washing and drying, I'm finding.

I have made a few essential friends during my volunteer work at the Senior Center. Both of my frequent rides home are becoming really good friends. Both are recently widowed (within the last year) and are making new lives for themselves. Friday I saw the two of them in deep conversation with a new friend. She is a beautiful woman, dressed elegantly in pink and white. A fragile frame but a lively and interesting mind, Elaine is 94 and recently  lost her husband after a long illness. This was only her second time at the Center, but she has already begun to find a new life. She said she really didn't like eating alone at home, and finds the community that surrounds the lunchroom crowd to be delightful. And she herself is delightful. She doesn't drive any more and uses the WTA Specialized Transit service to get around. Right now, those of us over 75 pay nothing for fixed routes and a small fee for a bus to come to your home and return you there. The fares are increasing, though, and starting next summer, I'll be paying something, not that much but something, for my rides. 

I'm glad they are not cutting services, just making the difficult choice to raise fares. There are people I see riding the bus who would have a hard time paying anything at all, and I'm hoping they can come up with some way to help those people. I live in a very caring environment and think they'll figure it out. Perhaps those of us who can afford it can pay to help others. I'll keep you posted as to what they come up with.

I am taking every opportunity to keep myself healthy, happy, and active. If I had tried to find just the right place to retire, I could not have found any place more perfect for the two of us than Bellingham. It was just a happenstance that I found it online and then we visited before we moved here. It does rain a lot, but that's the reason, I suspect, that more people don't move here. Just like the rest of the country, or should I say world, we have our struggles and wrestle with too much growth, too many people leading to overcrowding and other community problems. But considering what so many places are facing, we are not doing too badly. When I was young, it was inconceivable to me that we would have such a population explosion. Nobody wants to talk about it, but it's real and very concerning. Check out this World Population Clock if you need something to consider before deciding to find some place less crowded. (Hint: there isn't any place)

Well, when I first started writing this post, I didn't know where it would lead. But here it is, worrying about our planet's health when one species has become incredibly dominant and endangers the entire ecosystem. I'm not sure where I'm going with this thought, but there is nothing I myself can do about it except point to it and marvel that we are not all looking at it every day and wondering what to do about it. In any event, I am now stirring in my bed and thinking about starting my day, getting up and doing my exercises, going out to breakfast with my friend John, and seeing the wonderful world as it really is. 

Dear friends, until we meet again next time, I wish you all good things. Be well.

It's always something

My laptop in front, John's in back

This picture shows you the place where I (and usually John) spend our weekday mornings, drinking our coffee and tapping away on our little iPads. John takes off his reading glasses and goes to the bathroom rather regularly, and I took the opportunity to capture this iconic scene while he was away, and while I was waiting myself for a trip to the bathroom. When he joins us, Steve sits at a table like these to the left of me.

These days, I usually write a blog post (this one) on Eye on the Edge, published on Sunday mornings, and on Tuesdays I write a shorter, less involved post, on DJan-ity. This is my current writing regimen, but I do occasionally forget the Tuesday post. My ability to keep track of things these days is slipping, slowly but surely.

However, I do remember that each day is not a simple rehash of my daily habits, but each day is discrete and (hopefully) memorable. Being able to look back at my days through these writings for the last almost two decades is really valuable. I was trying to remember when I got my last Covid shot and then had that bout with the virus, and there it was. chronicled in an earlier post. My recollection of how sick I got was also surprising; I remembered it as being rather benign, but the post reminded me of how sick I was for a few days. I didn't end up hospitalized, because I was well vaccinated and recovered fairly quickly, with no respiratory distress. It was still no walk in the park.

As the days, weeks, months and years pass by, I feel very fortunate to live in a place where the weather is mostly benign; I read about the extreme weather, with rain, wind, and even hurricanes that other parts of the country endure regularly. We are not immune from bad weather, but it comes and goes rather quickly. Last week we experienced several inches of rain, lots of fierce winds, but it passed by, leaving us with puddles and some standing water in the streets, but nothing that couldn't be navigated easily. And then yesterday, Saturday, was a really beautiful sunny day with light, almost nonexistent, wind. I went to the coffee shop with Steve, and the two of us walked five miles at the harbor before returning back to our starting point. It was a glorious day in so many ways. I was a little worried that my right hip might act up, but other than a twinge now and then, it was just fine. I felt so glad that I didn't have to ask for a short cut back but kept up without any problems.

But there is always something, these days, to remind me of my advancing age and that most octogenarians need to find less strenuous workouts. When I consider my activities today in comparison with earlier times, I realize that I have done exactly that. My right hip has been bothering me ever since I took that flying leap on the ice last February and was laid up for weeks. It still goes out on me every once in awhile, but it's much, much better. And that is because I continue to move as much as I can, not taking the opportunity to stop exercising. It's part of my life and has been since as long as I can remember.

I still can walk that far, maybe a little farther, but I could no longer manage the harder hikes that I took for granted a few years ago. Because of my failing eyesight, it's helping me to cope with the changes. But it's always something, isn't it? As we age, we need to accept that we are not as capable as in earlier times, not grieve over it but find new ways to enjoy our daily lives. I am guided by many of my peers who write their own blogs about coping with difficulty and finding new ways to keep active. And a few have shown how to gracefully accept their inevitable decline and I hope to do the same. We have each other, fellow travelers on this beautiful blue rock we call Earth.

I have been missing the Astronomy Picture of the Day website, which stopped putting new stuff up when we started this shutdown. We have now surpassed the length of past shutdowns and there is no signs of it ending anytime soon. Sigh. I really feel for the workers who go every day to their job and don't get a paycheck. But I am hopeful that my Social Security will continue, and that the shutdown will not affect my ability to pay bills and buy groceries. We are all hoping it will soon end and things will return to normal, or a semblance of it anyway. But it's always something, right?

That was the catchphrase that Gilda Radner used during his time on Saturday Night Live and became the title of her memoir, which is now released in its twentieth anniversary edition. Twenty years!

I had wanted to wrap this book up in a neat little package. I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned the hard way that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. --Gilda Radner

Ain't it the truth, Gilda. And just like that, I have found a way to end my post, with her wonderful words and a wish to listen to her voice once again. I'll get the audio version of her memoir and smile and laugh along with her. 

https://www.amazon.com/Its-Always-Something-Gilda-Radner-

 So, dear friends, I will wish you, as I always do, many happy moments in the coming week, and wish you all good things. Until we meet again, be well.

Still weathery but lots of fun

Some of the costumed Halloween workers

We had a great deal of fun at the Senior Center during the Halloween festivities. You may not recognize some of these people, but you have probably seen them incognito during previous journal entries, but now they are not quite so recognizable. I didn't dress up; there are so many previous years when I spent a good deal of time finding just the right costume. But that was then, and now I am quite happy to enjoy other people's fun costumes.

One of my favorite past year's costume was decades ago, when I decided to become Harpo Marx for the day. I found an old floppy top hat and men's clothes, but the most important part was an old brass horn. Many people reading this post might not have even known who he was, since Groucho was the brother most people recognized. (Learn about the Marx Brothers here.) There were actually five brothers, who performed in vaudeville for many years before becoming movie stars in its early days. Since I am old, I remember seeing the old comedies they performed in. I sure enjoyed learning about them and trying to be a passable Harpo. I didn't speak for the entire day, using the horn as my "voice."

My other memorable costume was becoming Dolly Parton. I bought an appropriate wig and paid a friend to give me some over-the-top thick makeup to look like her, complete with voluminous hair and a glittery outfit. That was fun, too.

As I have grown older, I have somehow lost the desire to play dress-up or pretend to become some famous person. It's just one more thing that has simply fallen away. There are times when I look at my life today and wonder how much of it has become part of the ether, and how much might be possible to remember and reconstruct, even all these years later. Just thinking about dressing up has reminded me of part of my past that I had completely forgotten.

Everybody must be the same way, I think. The young engeneu I was in my early teens is maybe still somewhere inside my soul, but it's been buried for so long that I'm not sure I would even recognize that part of myself today. As I have aged, the old lady I have become feels right and appropriate, but it was so gradual that I cannot even contemplate returning to that reality. Do you ever think of yourself as a child? I wonder.

Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don't resist them - that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like. --Lao Tzu

Now that I am losing the ability to see the world around me clearly, I am finding that there are many other ways to appreciate being alive than simply seeing. People are incredibly helpful to me, when I cannot do something alone, I often find someone who is happy to help. It also makes me realize how much I can still accomplish, and I hope that will be true if my world grows darker. I often think of Helen Keller and how much she accomplished without the seemingly essential gifts of sight and hearing. Helen died 1 June 1968 at the age of 87. A quote from the internet: “I seldom think about my limitations, and they never make me sad. Perhaps there is just a touch of yearning at times, but it is vague, like a breeze among flowers. The wind passes, and the flowers are content.” (Helen Keller)

She is my inspiration in life. Once she found her passion for learning, she became an internationally recognized scholar and read (in braille) more than a dozen languages. She wrote books and essays all her life. I will never be as accomplished as her, but I can find joy and love whenever I look for it.

And with that thought, my dear friends, I will leave you for the week. My dear partner still sleeps next to me, and my gratitude for him is boundless. Until we meet again. I wish you all good things. Be well.