Tag Archives: aging

I Must Confess…

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©Jeanne E Webster

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I must confess:

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I’m getting older…and feeling it too.

I painted our mud room walls…only got halfway done.

I get up early in the morning…but still don’t finish my chores.

I walk miles on a treadmill…but still don’t lose enough pounds.

I ride on a recumbent bike…that doesn’t work either.

I have fun now with exercises for my brain…don’t even need a bike!

I cook most everything from scratch…keeping the sodium and calories down.

I vacuum the carpets and mop the floors…my hair drips with drops of sweat.

I start one project…then forget two others, or was it start two and forget one.

I make a grocery list…then leave it at home.

I need more time to think up a poem or story…so write it down quickly before I forget.

I wash and dry my clothes carefully…but they still shrink.

I could sew, crochet, knit, or craft all day…but arthritis is slowing me down.

I used to put on makeup—lipstick and eye stuff…but it doesn’t satisfy anymore.

I used to kneel in my bedroom to pray…the knees complain too much now.

I still do spring-cleaning on the house…but it takes all spring time to do it.

I had no problem with reading…now I need glasses and a good strong light.

I must have the house real cool for sleeping…hangover probably from the change of things.

I used to hear a whisper a mile away…now I go for the close-ups or repeats.

I used to love to hang out the wash…smelled great but hard on the hands.

I am noticing that technology is changing too fast…it takes me longer to grasp the knack.

I tremble at the closeness of the world today…too many people with no place to go.

I sense the undercurrent anger stewing in people…this breeds coldhearted characters.

I find myself reading the obits in the paper…even though I don’t know too many people here.

I find myself having to take pills everyday…never was a good swallower.

I find young people are looking too young…to be starting a family.

I find the list too long of my great-grandchildren…hard to remember all those birth dates.

I find myself more grateful I can still drive…I value my independence greatly.

I find aging to be a pain…and I will be kicking and screaming, but smiling all the way.

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A good sense of humor goes a long, long way, my friends!

Shalom

CHANGING TABLES

 

© Jeanne E Webster

 

Life is an ever-changing kaleidoscope, and for most of us women our first colorful formatting began months before birth.  That phase was the preparation of a cute little nursery containing a changing-table. We don’t remember but have seen photos and heard stories about that table.  It was loaded with all the “gotta haves”: drawers stuffed with wash cloths, receiving blankets, undershirts, nightgowns, bibs and tons of diapers.   The top was the cleanup and/or changing area, cluttered with jars of baby oil, baby powder, wipes, cotton swabs, baby lotion and the tiny comb and brush. 

 

Quickly outgrowing that scene, we shifted into the bright “I’m Mommy’s big girl now” table, strewn with Barbie dolls, stuffed dolls, dolls that walked & talked, dancing dolls, crying dolls, doll clothes of every sort and color, crayons and colored pencils, paper doll cut-outs, coloring books, little reading books and an oversized doll house for little people in-residence. 

 

Having held a “bye bye” rummage sale for our doll collection, we splished and splashed into teen hood  with a vanity table, full mirror, racks of lipsticks, drawers of powder makeup, liquid makeup, mascara of sexy black shades, jars of Noxzema face cream and acne preparations, perfumes, the latest deodorants, photos of boyfriends taped on the glass sealed with a kiss of the reddest lipstick we could find, a hand mirror with a flip zoom lens to get those close-up shots of the back of our fancy hairdos, and the ever present bobby pins and hair clips to control the stray unmanageable hairs.

 

A few years after high school graduation, the sparkling vanity table lost its luster due to the addition of a brilliant husband and vibrant children. We parted easily with the radiating frills of yesteryear to concentrate on family.  The table now spun a different scene, and the old photos were long gone along with the acne preps.  Maybe the two were connected in some way?  Hair curlers, perm rods, scarves and lots of hair products played their parts now:  sprays, softeners, firmers, high lighters and ultra controllers. 

 

The middle-age vanity table made its entrance years later with a slowing down of the sparkling revolutions.  Crisp, clean crocheted table scarves and miniature lamps with smokestack looking shades replaced the “shake rattle and roll” scene.   A tabletop makeup mirror was added to enable the user to repair damaged areas due to the aging process.  Makeup flavors were fewer now; we were done with the experimental stages and settled in with our favorites.  Less time was spent sitting in front of the table as we became  enraptured with soap operas, chatting with friends on the phone, or playing “spin the bottle” with the garden jewels.  What a ride we had had; what brilliant, beautiful scenes of life we experienced.

 

Where did the pretty lights go?  One day we waken to a small bedside table, holding a glass of water, 6 bottles of prescription medicines, two or three cough drops, a cell phone, a TV remote, a small flashlight and one of the old miniature vanity table lamps.  My, how time has changed things!  To Life!      

Did You?

©Jeanne E Webster

Have you turned 65?  How often do we hear that question blaring from television commercials?  What does it mean, turn 65?  How does one do that?

I checked on the word “turn” in the dictionary and it lists many meanings:  twist-revolve-rotate-spin-roll-twirl-gyrate-circle-curdle-sour-spoil-curve-bend-veer-meander-direct-aim-point-focus-set-concentrate-change-go-alter-convert-transform.

Now we are stuck with a conundrum.  Which verb is most appropriate for the term turn 65?  How about twist 65?  No.  I might hurt myself with that verb.  How about revolve, rotate, spin or gyrate?  Those make me dizzy just thinking about it.  Definitely, no.  Well, how about curdle, sour, or spoil?  I’m getting close now.  I’m sure we have curdled 65 or soured trying.  But I’m not ready to spoil.  Curve, bend, meander?  Appropriate.  We could do that easily when we’re 65.  Just a senior moment though; nothing that lasts long.  Change, go, alter, transform?  Aha, almost there.  We can change to 65, transform to 65.  Sure.  Why not.

Some more possibilities:  Jumped to 65?  Snuck up to 65?  Crawled to 65?  Grew to 65?  Advanced to 65?  Surged to 65?  Proceeded to 65?  Evolved to 65?  Progressed to 65?  Increased to 65?  Spread to 65?  Increased to 65?  Expanded to 65?  What do you think sounds best?

My ego and age like advanced best, I think.  Evolved is definitely out, as I am not a dinosaur by any means.  Grew is out, as actually I’m shrinking.  Surged?  No, no more surging says the doctor.  Progressed is out the window.  My body has never heard the word.  Spread is reality at its best but my pride forbids me to say yes. 

I think I’ll stay with advanced.  It’s proper, comfortable, shows I’m still active, and has a little shine to it. 

Have you advanced to 65?  Or did you turn, sneak, jump, spread, progress or.   .   .   .?

That’s Life

Sharing one of my favorite poems…

 

 

 

A Prayer

By Max Ehrmann

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Let me do my work each day;

And if the darkened hours of despair overcome me,

May I not forget the strength that comforted me

In the desolation of other times.

May I still remember the bright hours that found me

Walking over the silent hills of my childhood,

Or dreaming on the margin of the quiet river,

When a light glowed within me,

And I promised my early God to have courage

Amid the tempests of the changing years.

Spare me from bitterness

And from the sharp passions of unguarded moments.

May I not forget that poverty and riches are of the spirit.

Though the world know me not,

May my thoughts and actions be such

As shall keep me friendly with myself.

Lift my eyes from the earth,

And let me not forget the uses of the stars.

Forbid that I should judge others,

Lest I condemn myself.

Let me not follow the clamor of the world,

But walk calmly in my path.

Give me a few friends who will love me for what I am;

And keep ever burning before my vagrant steps

The kindly light of hope.

And though age and infirmity overtake me,

And I come not within sight of the castle of my dreams,

Teach me still to be thankful for life,

And for time’s olden memories that are good and sweet;

And may the evening’s twilight find me gentle still.

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~shalom,

Jeanne

Soul Fodder

 

© Jeanne E Webster

 

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Consider the situation:

Which pain is greater to bear-

A body in degradation

Or a spirit in disrepair?

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Are you bruised, dear one,

Your grief too much to bear?

Call the name of the Son;

Cast on Him all your cares.

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The body moans and groans;

Fails us more each day;

We wear it to the bone;

To dust it does decay.

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Bodily pain soon passes;

Spiritual pain is forever.

The body rises from ashes,

The rejected spirit never.

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Reject His love and grace

You bring forth His wrath

From you He turns His face

As you head down hell’s path.

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For the spirit is eternal

Lives on and on and on

Mark it in your journal…

To God your soul belongs.

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For you His heart did bleed

Lean hard into His word:

“My grace is all you need.”

Peace carols like a bird.

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Turn your spirit to God

Hold to His love and grace

Uplifting as you plod

Towards His heavenly place.

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Thank Him for His love

His forgiveness of sins

Spirit descends like a dove

New life in heaven begins.

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Yikes! It’s Me!

 

“Time is fleeting,” they say. Who is “they?”

I always wonder when I hear an old saying, who the original thinker or author is. I stopped here mid-writing and looked up this phrase. Here it is in its entirety:

Life is short.
Time is fleeting.
Uncover the True Nature.
Purify the mind and heart to attain happiness.
Be kind; be compassionate.
Be generous; do good.
Concentrate.
Understand.
Awaken.
Overcome
   . . . greed with generosity,
   . . . anger with lovingkindness,
   . . . ignorance with understanding.

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I never would have guessed Mr. Longfellow was the author, but I’m glad he is. Another tangent off the main road of blogging that I shall meander upon in due time.

Back to the article, having just experienced another birthday, the sixty-ninth to be exact, I wanted to share some discoveries as one reflects on age or aging. My twin sister and my older brother visited me this week to enjoy each other’s company for the first time in over 10 years. Where did the time go? We’ve all been busy becoming grandparents, great-grandparents, great-uncles, great-aunts, all those “greats,” for one thing. Another thing, we’ve been busy patching up the torn fragments of our “tent,” trying to stave off the residual effects of living. Win some…lose some.

Hmmm. I believe the score is grossly overrated on the side of losses. Let’s do some recon work here… we’ll start at the top…good place, huh? The head: hair appears first. It seems thinner, lighter, lots of grey, but at least I have some of it yet! Next is the brain: the processor still functions, when it really needs to; the light is still on but blinking; it returns after power failures; when given sufficient time, it can recall most of the data stored within. The eyes: same color blue, no cataracts, glasses only necessary for reading, pretty good condition overall. The ears: losing hearing somewhat, protective about loud noises, no hair as yet. The nose: this is where the hairs are growing! Yikes! The mouth: still can let loose a whoop, yet speak tenderly when necessary. The teeth: the pearly whites are no longer pearly. They have been assisted by dental procedures of many types and arrangements. Let’s put it this way, they are not scary and remain functional. The face: hmmm, it still resembles me somewhat. Eyelids drooping, cheeks sagging, lips diminishing, chin receding and presenting whiskers, and skin is drying, brown spotting, and slightly wrinkly. Overall consensus: not bad for 69 years!

To return to staving off the effects of living…I’ve learned many things over the years. Perhaps sharing them would be proper.

1. Get plenty of sleep

2. Eat sensibly

3. Exercise daily

4. Love God

5. Love others, as you want to be loved

6. Forgive others, as you want to be forgiven

7. Trust in God

8.  Pray always 

Have a good weekend and stay safe. Remember…

“Life is short… time is fleeting…”

~shalom

Werewolves?

The Rhododendron gardens at Sheringham Park, i...

Image via Wikipedia

 

Thursday, March 03, 2011

A warm, partly cloudy day here in Illinois. I’ll be able to add some more hours of labor in the yard with a day like this. Great for working out in the flowerbeds and bushes. We see buds already in the lilacs and other flowering shrubs, and the daffodils are presenting their sweet yellow heads for all to see. This is my time of year. Not too hot or too cold and enough color to urge one on to polish up the rest of the yard. We do have unwanted visitors already, the moles and voles. They lived in our neighbor’s back yard all winter now have migrated to our back yard. There is a difference between a mole and a vole, but not sure what that is. They both destroy the grand setting of a well-kept yard, with the huge mounds of dirt they pile high everywhere and when saturated with rain, these areas provide the effect of quicksand. You step onto the dirt and sink into your ankles at least before you know it. I know they’re seeking grubs and other food, but don’t mess with the well-groomed effect.

 Have to go get my hair cut today. Wish hair growing would slow down; other parts of the body do as we get older. When we approach sixty, all body parts begin to breakdown. Some malfunctioning is ok and desired but too many go haywire all at once. Let’s start at the top. Yes, the grey stuff! Not only do we have to tolerate the slowly advancing “old grey line,” but it spreads to the eyebrows too. I think I have it all figured out: the hair greys on top then pops out a solid black on the chin, cheeks and inside noses. That’s not fair at all! I know now how the werewolf must have felt at full-moon time. I check out my nails for any pointing of the ends and hairy tassels but so far so good. My teeth are still hanging on by a thread too, so no problem there. I would guess werewolfism doesn’t run in the family.

Our baby cockatiels are such cuties, growing and growing. They’re making a noise like a grouchy old cat on its deathbed, and at this point I don’t know if they like the cuddling and chatter I give them or not. The point of that is to get them to like me, so when they grow up they’ll let me clean their cage without nipping my fingers off. Jake, their father, was always such a good buddy…until he had these guys. Now he is aggressive towards anything that comes into the cage. I’m proud of him, really. He stepped up to the plate.

Must go and do chores. Remember someone is out there praying for you and all will work out in the end. Time has a way of taking the edge off the tips: if you’re in a rut, it’ll soon be gone; if you’re in wonderland, enjoy it as it goes by quickly!

~shalom