Even in Winter

January 23, 2023

We escaped from winter in Virginia to winter in Rhode Island, though people who know me, know the trip is not about the weather. I consider this place home, and I need to check in every now and again. My son’s family decided to come along, and his daughter Annie LOVES the water.

When we made a quick stop to see the beach, she asked if she could put her feet in the water. 30 degrees!! But she did, and she came back with a huge smile on her face. As long as I am with them, I will never say no to a passion or interest.

Today it is raining/snowing, and we’ll do crafts at the dining room table.

I am enjoying each moment.

This is it.

January 15, 2023

A friend pulled me up short the other day.

“This is it,” she said. “Stop planning your death.”

I hadn’t realized how much I talk about dying: where, when, how. All the details.

In some ways, I believed that planning would make it seem less stressful. But what has happened is that I focus so much on the end, I forget I am here now. This poem by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer says it all:

This is it, I think, as I lie in bed, not wanting to leave the warmth.
This is it, my feet meet the cold wood.
This is it, I water the orchid.
This is it, I boil water, make tea.
I think, I’ll be a better person tomorrow.
This is it, me dreaming of fresh starts.
This is it, defuzzing the sweater.
This is it, paying bills, answering mail, frying eggs, washing pans.
No life but this one.
No fresh start but here.
This is it, the cat sits on my papers.
This is it, the phone doesn’t ring.
This is it, the floors need mopping,
the letter needs written, the class needs planned.
This is it, me wishing I could be more perfect.
This is it, this. This only. Only this.
This is it, this flutter in my chest
when the sun enters the room,
the natural leaning toward the light.
This is it, this silence.
This cold. This warmth.
This longing. This song on my lips.

Ten Years

May 18, 2022

When I was about to turn 60, I decided I should start a blog for 60-somethings, a journal of sorts to remember and share what I was going through. I couldn’t believe I was that old! Well, I think I managed one post before I abandoned it.

And now I am about to turn 70, which sounds about as old as 60 did ten years ago. The only thing that’s changed is how I look at the world, myself, and my relationships.

I will continue sharing what I’m learning here. I can’t wait until I am almost 80 to see if my topics have changed. Somehow I envision lots of posts about getting older, and that’s ok because that’s where I am. That 18 year old, sitting by the side of the road in Amsterdam with a loaf of bread and a hunk of cheese, thinking she was all that and more, had no idea how her life would turn out. There have been many dark times, moments filled with regret, days when I wondered if I was losing my mind. And yet here I am, excited about this next decade and feeling grateful for all I have in my life.

Minute by minute. Hour by hour. Day by day.

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

Stay tuned.

But I Wanted Blueberry

May 8, 2022

Not really. The hazelnut ice cream melted in my mouth and soothed raw places left by new invisilign braces. Homemade, at that. The ice cream, not the braces.

But the eating was preceded by a discussion.

“What kind do you want?”

“Um, I really don’t care.”

“You decide- it’s Mother’s Day!”

“But what do you want?”

He picked hazelnut, and I was fine with that. Just typing that word gives me chills because as a child I was “always fine with that.”

As I let the cold ice cream slip down my throat, I replayed the conversation in my mind, wondering if I had given in or if I really didn’t care. Sometimes it’s hard to know. I’ve been waffling for so long.

This time, it really didn’t matter. But I wish I’d picked.

You Have No Regrets Scheduled Today

September 21, 2021

When I opened my calendar email today, I instead of “no events” I saw: You have no regrets scheduled for today.

Now that is a sign from the universe. Perhaps I’ve been spending just a little too much time in the past.

Part of my wellness plan is staying in the present, which is so important for mental health. I tend to go back, rethinking decisions and go forward, trying to predict outcomes. Instead, I am learning to take a deep breath and focus on being right here, right now. It was difficult at first, but it’s becoming easier.

Self care means asking myself “what do I need right now?” Sometimes it’s a nap, and often it’s a walk. This also helps me make good food (and alcohol) choices. Yes, these routines are easier in retirement. But I wish I’d learned to focus more on myself when I was younger. Worrying about what everyone else thinks drains me. It can be downright debilitating.

The biggest shift for me, though, is trying to have no regrets– I did what I could with what I had at the moment. And meditating on that keeps me present.

Things I am reading and listening to:

Self-kindness meditation from Ten Percent Happier

Forgive yourself for who you used to be

Food to eat (or not) for gut issues

Yoga for anxiety