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Old age knees--don't talk about them

10/21/2020

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Here is my latest old woman’s secret, which isn’t just mine but undoubtedly a universal one. We frame most things terms of our current health (and to a lesser degree the health of those close to us). Often that’s where we begin, both in our thought process and our daily planning. At least, that’s what I’ve been doing ever since my old age knee began to hurt. Now that I’ve had a cortisone injection and been realigned by my chiropractor, I’m less obsessed/worried about it, but it is always on my mind. These days my health seems to be my ‘first responder’. 
      Maybe this has always been true for people who lived with compromised health. But because I’ve been extremely healthy for my entire 80 years, this is new for me. Now, I start everything by first considering my health. For example, my husband and I begin each day mentioning what we are grateful for, and yup, these days we always start with how our bodies are feeling. This isn’t a bad thing, but it is worth noting so we can move on to other gratitudes, ones that might lead us away from ourselves and toward others.
    You ask why our attitude toward our health is an old woman’s secret, why we don’t’ want to bring it up all the time? We don’t want it to take over our relationships or all the meaningful things we do. What we dwell effect who we are. I don’t mind being an old woman—good thing, because what I am. I don’t want to bad knee to define who I am or what I do. That is up to me.

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Time for garbage pickup

8/27/2020

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 Current old women thoughts at this very moment. 
      I love my solitude; I love that I can read novels and not worry that I should be reading for my resume.   I love my home and yard. I love my husband. 
     On the other hand, I do not love that husband’s back is not good (nor does he). Since I am having to do most of the heavy lifting around here, we have made the monumental decision to sign up for garbage pick-up. Every Thursday morning we will drag two garbage containers to the end of the driveway where the magic will be performed. No more going to the town dump, which has lost its appeal when the put-and-take and book exchange closed! 
    I don’t know if you consider this an old woman’s secret. Maybe it’s an old man’s secret. I have never taken pride or ownership in disposing of trash once it left the kitchen.  But men around here like to go to the dump on a Saturday—old men and young men. ​

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Old women ask, "Where is the meaning?"

5/22/2020

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​How are we old women doing during this pandemic time? Because it varies with individual circumstances, I  write from my particular vantage point, hopeful that what I observe and experience resonates with others. We have completed our life work-- career, parenting, hobbies, travel, volunteer work. This involvement may continue, but as specific projects dwindle, what remains is a deep desire to satisfy that human longing to create meaning. We’ve been doing that our entire lives but now we know and have come to believe that it is the only thing worth living for.
     Most of the old women with whom I am in contact have food, clothing, and shelter; some are more isolated than others. Everyone is focused on taking precautions to be safe, but some feel that the only purpose right now is to hold it all together. That doesn’t satisfy them. “Where is the meaning?
    The one who ask this question are on her way to discovering the answer for herself. For us old women it does take much—a wave to a stranger, a telephone call, a prayer. The more isolate one is, the greater the need to reach out or be reached.

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Call someone

3/23/2020

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​You might wonder what we old women can do during this pandemics. My one-word answer: plenty. My longer response: do what you can. By than I mean do what you are physically able, and what your heart tells you is right. And then make a commitment to it.
     I have chosen to telephone and email people I know—family, personal friends, and those in my church community. I notice that those living alone need special attention because their usual ways of social contact are cut off. They lack the daily chatter that is built in when you live with someone. My husband and I laugh in acknowledging how important it is that we can tell each other something even when we know the other isn’t really listening.

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Ageism and politics

2/25/2020

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​Don’t worry, this isn’t about politics, it’s about one old woman’s thoughts about old men wanting to be (or being) president.
    We old folks know some things. We know that our mental and physical capacities aren’t what they used to be, and we know that that’s okay. It’s okay that we forget someone’s name, or that on our daily walk we stop to take a few extra breaths as we look up at the trees. It’s okay that we doze off in the middle of the afternoon or decide that we don’t feel like going to a meeting at church. It’s okay because for the most part we are responsible only for ourselves. It’s okay because we are not aspiring to be president of the United States.
     Ageism isn’t always a bad thing. At times we play the age card and sometimes it is played back at us. Let’s take this one and live with it.

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Playing the age card

1/29/2020

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​The other evening we had dinner with long-time friends, three of us octogenarians , three of us about to turn 80. As you might imagine, the tone of our conversation touched on what we all were doing during this time in our lives: our health, living possibilities, our kids and grandkids, travel, and how we spend our time.
    I told my friends that as an old woman I often find myself playing the  ‘age card’, and that it’s not a secret that I’m happy to do so. In fact, one of my purposes in writing this blog is to reveal the secrets that we old people have in the hope that others will understand us more fully, as a group and as individuals.
    Here are some situations when I play the age card: to go to bed early or to take a nap; to enjoy a third brownie after supper; not to join a church committee; not to go out in the evening. Of course, I don’t always want to play the age card, nor do I always need to. I still travel by myself. 

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Gravitas begins in kindergarten

1/17/2020

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Will I live to see the end of the rhetoric by which Trump has defined his presidency? I hope so. I want to see the end of the verbal malice going on in our country, certainly the malice among adults. When I observe a rude politician I tell myself, “That person was never in my kindergarten class.”
      You may detect a tad of arrogance in that comment, but I truly did try to help five year olds learn kind and honest ways to express their opinions and feelings.  AND, we discussed  what was necessary to say publicly and when it might be prudent to keep silent.
      This is not exclusively an old woman hope. But a long life of experiences, coupled with a short life expectancy, I believe gives gravitas to what I am saying. 

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Turning 80

1/2/2020

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​Where should this old woman begin? This old woman who turned 80 on December 30, the end of a decade for me and the world of which I continue to be a healthy member.
   My kids (ages 49 and 51) gave me a party at Longfellow’s Wayside Inn. Thirty eight family members from Jim’s family and mine, and a few long-time friends gathered to be together, and to celebrate two birthdays, mine and my sister’s. Margot was born six years to the day after I came into the world. I have always loved sharing it with her, which is a gift in itself. After all, wouldn’t it be fair to be jealous?
    With a birthday, the New Year, and our 56th wedding anniversary all within five days, there must be something to resolve. Let me concentrate on thoughts of being 80.
• It’s the best age for me. Why look back with regret or nostalgia, or look forward with fear?
• Live in the present moment. That’s all there is.
• Don’t judge others. I sure don’t want people judging me as I put one foot forward.
• Take care of my body. Exercise, eat well, and if possible, stay away from hospitals.
• Lie on the couch and read.
• Stay in touch with friends and family.
• Pray. Let go and let God. 
 
Hmm, nothing to resolve, just concentrate. 

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No app life for me

11/18/2019

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​I had a wonderful weekend in Pittsburg with my daughter and granddaughter who goes to the university there. Such fun just being in the moment with them as well as solidifying some personal old woman attitudes toward technology.
   I may be physically fit and mentally with it, but age has me wanting to be out of the mainstream; take apps, for example. I have an iPhone, and use a few apps, but I have no interest in leading an ‘app life’ or having apps lead me.
     Just this weekend the young woman behind the desk at our hotel suggested that I put the city public transit app on my phone so I could figure out about the bus to the airport; next she encouraged me to add an app to help us make a reservation for a restaurant just down the street. Thankfully, my daughter handled the reservation. As for the bus, I walked to the bus stop and read the itinerary.
    Just to complete this app discussion, my daughter showed me how to put my boarding pass on my phone. No, I didn’t ‘put’ it on, I ‘clicked’ it on. I felt like a young woman as I marched through security and onto the plane.
 
    (I deleted the boarding pass from my phone, so I’ll show you the breakfast I enjoyed at the airport--since I had so much time to spare after figuring out the bus and using the pass.) 

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All is well

11/3/2019

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​Well, this old woman is still up and about, too busy to post. Busy filling a dumpster in case my husband and I feel old enough to move. Busy with our kids and grandkids who helped out with the purging, and, with leave raking. Busy visiting the old people at church (well, older than I am). Busy reading. Busy being.
     That all sound like I’m not old, because physically I am young. I forget a few names here and there, but my mind is still functioning. However, I don’t seem to be planning for the future in ways that I used to. I’m content just being.
     I don’t talk about my faith much in this blog, but I am grateful for it. I am not fearful of what lies ahead, nor anxious about the present. All is well. 

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    Author

       I am a 78 year old white, educated, privileged woman, in excellent health, with a wonderful family. I go to church and travel by myself to Italy and Scotland. That’s my public vita, my public persona. But that’s not all who I am. I have secrets, secrets of an old woman. So let me say some more.
         I’m old. Not in the usual physical ways of a person age 78, but I’m old in years, and that very fact guides the sense of meaning that I feel and experience in my life. Put succinctly, more and more my age is becoming the filter through which I lead my life.
         I’ve had a rich life, with caring parents, a loving husband of 54 years, two wonderful children, and four amazing grandchildren. My teaching career was rewarding; I published six books for teachers describing my experiences as a kindergarten and first grade teacher. When I retired I earned a divinity degree and became the spiritual care counselor for a local hospice.
        I ask myself if now I am really retired. Well, yes and no. Yes, in that I have more free and unscheduled time to satisfy my longing for silence, solitude and simplicity, which I blog about in this blog-- www.acottagebythesea.net, and more time to attend to my spiritual life, which I blog about in www.aprayerdiary.net. I have more time to spend with family and friends, help at church, read for pleasure, write, and travel,. My old woman secret is that I am still searching for meaning and the search is intense and life supporting.

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