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Fogettting! I don't care~

2/7/2019

One of the secrets of my old women secrets has two parts: I forget things and I don’t care.
Case in point: I forget what I write on this blog and so I write about it again; but I don’t care that I do this. I have little interest in reading through pass posts. I am not publishing, I’m posting.
As far as I’m concerned I love that I don’t care. I don’t care what others think about repeating an idea. Not that it matters, but I bet many of you forget what I’ve said, and if you remembered, you are just like me: you don’t care.

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Old women's group

1/26/2019

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I am blessed to be part of a group of long-time friends who get together to share what’s going on in our lives. The six of us are all circling eighty. Here’s the essence of my contribution to a recent email exchange.

Our honesty and hopefulness helps us be realistic and resilient. We each take our turn; at the moment two of us are on center stage, the rest of us with essential supporting roles.

Each one of us is strong. We have high P.A.—personal authority, but that doesn’t mean we don’t need each other’s support. Although I believe that when all is said and done we are alone in this world , I also believe that we can only embrace and cherish this aloneness if we are surrounded and loved by others. (For example, I am peaceful and not lonely traveling alone because I have family and friends who love me and support and understand this long of mine.)

Maybe it’s not a old woman’s secret that we need our peers.

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Remembering Mary Oliver

1/18/2019

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Mary Oliver died yesterday. She was 83, four years old than me. Three years ago she was diagnosed with lymphoma. I don’t know if she suffered from it, but I like to think that she knew her journey was coming to an end and that she had lived the journey she had encouraged her readers to follow: determined to save the only life you could save.
Instructions for living a life. Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it. Mary Oliver followed her own instructions; she told about her life throughout a life time of writing poetry. She showed us how to pay attention and be astonished.
Mary Oliver didn’t seem to have old woman secrets; she just kept writing. She was transparent and honest. We old (and young) women will continue to learn from her.

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Secret of an old woman--staying home

1/5/2019

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On December 30th I turned 79. I don’t feel old, and in many ways I don’t fill the usual stereotype of someone entering her 80th year. In other words, I’m healthy and active. But I feel an old woman secret creeping in, which has to do with travel.
    I’m fine going to Florence because I know the routine. As the expression goes, I could do it blind-folder, although my eyes are excellent. But flying to a new airport, renting a car and getting onto the highway, and being my own tour guide over-whelms me.
    I’m beginning to understand the attraction of tours, but I’m not interested in spending energy hooking up with them. Plus, and here’s another secret, tours are inherently social, and I want solitude—which is why I love traveling alone.
     Old women are happy staying at home. I don’t know if it’s a secret, but it sure is true.

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Grateful~

12/12/2018

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I notice that I am not judging others as much as I used to-- pastel hair coloring, loud tourists, fancy or scruffy attire. People look and act as they do, and I am one of those people, too. In part this is one of the secret benefits I’m feeling as an old woman. It has freed me to wear my warm hat with ‘Thankful’ on its rim. Certainly not a fashion statement, but I am warm and I am not worrying that people might be thinking, “There goes an old woman.” Who cares.

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Travel secrets~

12/5/2018

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Are there any old woman secrets about traveling alone to Italy? I feel confident in the same ways I’ve always felt; I am not fearful that something might happen; I can manage my luggage with ease; I am not lonely; I love eating alone. The secret is that I am aware that these solitary trips will come to an end—soon, within the next few years.
We old people know the finality of life in a way that hasn’t always been in our consciousness. For me, it began emerging when I turned 70, and became hardwired by 75. It’s not a depressing thought, but a prominent one. Living in the moment has becomes essential to my well-being.

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Grumpy old women!

11/16/2018

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Here is the old woman secret that appeared to methis morning. I hate all the grumbling I hear from old people, and yet, here I am doing just that. Today’s specific grumble is how we long for ‘the good old days’ by complaining about how things currently are in the world. This one can totally consume us if we let it. And, in case you’re wondering, it is not about good memories. It probably has to do with lack of control in our lives.

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Perfect old women~

11/4/2018

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We old women still want to be perfect, both in our own eyes and in the eyes of others. From our old age stance, however, we offer the wisdom that no one is perfect, nor can they. It’s not that we’re lying; it’s just that we want what we can’t have. It’s a life long conundrum, starting with wanting cookies for breakfast, to a perfect teenage complexion, to a glamorous job, to compliant children. Then, as we learn that those dreams are unattainable, we soften our expectations, and become satisfied with the nuances of every day life. But we still hold onto that ideal of perfection within us.
Maybe that’s a good thing, not letting go of wanting to be perfect, or shall I say, the best we can be, especially in a old woman kind-of-way.

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Remembering the Subway Series~

10/29/2018

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My old scrape book.

A secret of many old women, at least this one, is that as kids we were immersed in the Subway Series. What’s that you ask? It was when fans took the New York City subway to the World Series games between the Brooklyn Dodgers and the New York Yankees. *
The 1955 season was my season. In no particular order I remember the entire Brooklyn Dodger line up, the arrival of rookie pitchers Sandy Koufax and Don Drysdale, the catch of Sandy Amoros, and calling my grandmother in Brooklyn after our Bums won. And then O’Malley moved the team to LA and my ‘wait ‘til next year’ days were over. It took me until 2013 to wave the Red Sox banner.
Being a Brooklyn Dodger fan isn’t one of my secrets, but it sure dates me. Just three weeks ago at the second playoff game against the Yankees at Fenway Park, I comment to some fans sitting near me that I had been a big Brooklyn Dodger fan and gone to Ebbets Field. Wow, did their eye brows raise! We’re they saying, “You are old, but you don’t look it”? I’m going to think that.

* In all fairness, I must mentioned New York Giants as participants in the Subway Series. I remember Bobby Thompson’s shot heard round the world in 1951. It took four years for redemption.

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Extra pounds! Who cares!

10/20/2018

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It’s no secret that as we get older it becomes harder and harder to keep off those extra pounds, and even harder to get rid of them. Way into adulthood I used to cut back (no bread, no sweets, no wine) for two days, and be back to my high school weight. Where has that high metabolism gone?
My old woman’s secret, however, is that I don’t care about those extra pounds, at least not enough to spend more than a day practicing portion control. Oh, I want them off, but just tonight I couldn’t resist a brownie.

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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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