Ending The Old—Beginning the New

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It’s been a rough and tough year in my life. 2023 will go down in my mind as the most difficult year I have experienced. It’s been a year full of blessings, stuffed with caring and joy.

You might think those two statements can’t possibly both stand side by side and be true.

2023 will be marked as the year I became a widow. After years of confusion and pain and memory loss for my husband, God chose to take him home and give him peace from the PTSD he lived with because of the Vietnam War, from the pain he suffered from his back and stomach, and from the anguish he felt when he realized his mind was playing tricks on him, giving him hallucinations and fear at what was happening with his memory.

Watching someone you love suffer, blaming yourself for not doing enough, or not knowing what to do as a spouse and caregiver, destroys any semblance of sanity. The family, children, no matter their age, suffer too, and their feelings get overlooked, especially by the caregiver because the caregivers can’t get outside of their grief to help kids sort through what’s happening to their dad or mother.

And then… deep breath… there are the friends and other family members who God also chose to bring home to him, leaving us devastated at the emptiness of those people being gone.

Worst year of our lives.

The blessings. When you are reeling from the pain, the most surprising events happen. New friends pop up to lift you up, carry you and lead you through the darkness. Old friends never let you go and surround you with prayers, and knowing you so well, they sense what you need when you didn’t know you needed it.

Extended family, though separated by miles or community, come together, sharing your pain but offering memories and hope for the future by letting you know that family is forever.

The dark road you are on is lit by the kindness of others.

My road has included stops I never wanted to make, but looking back I am thankful the roadblocks included these stops. I didn’t want to sell my home and leave my community of 62 years. I didn’t want to move my husband to memory care, and I didn’t want to move again this past year to a new place and another community. However, I did. I learned lessons I never would have learned had I stayed stuck in my old life.

I met people that expanded my world. I learned a handicap and age does not have to define your life. Courageous, beautiful souls live in bodies twisted from life. They let their spirit define them.

I learned to look into people’s eyes and souls and not judge them by race or gender or age. Their hearts beat the same as mine.

I learned to look beneath the glitz of our materialistic world and see those that are missed and forgotten. Our neighbors may be one paycheck or social security check away from homelessness or food insecurity. It’s easy to judge when you haven’t experienced it.

I learned our health care system and assisted living and memory care need change so nurses and aides aren’t set up to fail by lack of training, horrible workloads and hours, because these facilities only have to staff the bare minimum. Regulations mandating enough staff are sadly lacking. Facilities shortchange staff on wages so it’s hard to be competitive with other careers. Management always seem to be compensated. Elder abuse is alive and well propagated by money and greed.

I learned even though you pay over $4000 for a room in memory care, you have to provide your own toilet paper. That may seem like a small thing but those small things add up. Not only do you pay the price for the empty room, you must provide furniture, essentials plus every little thing staff does for you, including picking you up off the floor has a charge. I learned that in assisted living, if you fall no one can help you up or give you CPR, that includes staff. You have to call 911. I learned to ask about details such as this when moving in. Not all facilities do this but many for profit establishments do.

I may not have wanted to educate myself on any of these things, however, I would have missed meeting the people that changed my life for the better, teaching me that you can smile and play during the pain of whatever situation you are in. Their quiet courage and faith moved me beyond words

I love where I now live, city and building. My building mates enrich my life. I see my family often. And it’s a new year full of possibilities. I have a new slogan, “Be careful what you don’t wish for.”

I did make a few resolutions I know I can keep. I am going to hang my toilet paper any way I choose. I don’t have to make my bed, because then I don’t mess it up at nap time. I can eat crackers in bed. I’m the only one that sleeps there and the crumbs will be gone when I wash my sheets. My clothes will be clean, but I see no need to fold my underwear, you can’t see those wrinkles. And if I choose to throw my jeans in the drawer unfolded after washing them, when I wear them, I will be coordinated, wrinkle coordinated. My wrinkled jeans will match my face.

It’s a new year. I’m going to try and learn from the old, keep the lessons I experienced close and hope I am up to the task of what I encounter in 2024.

Life is not a fairytale. It is mixed with dreams, sorrows, love, defeat, peace and pain. We can get through it if we rely on each other and lift someone up when they can’t go on, and let someone lift us up when we are buried by the facts of life. And if we are lucky, somewhere in that mix we can hold on to a tiny piece of a fairytale, allowing us to keep on dreaming and growing by our experiences

Happy New Year!

A little postscript: I was informed one of those courageous people I mentioned died. I knew her as Dee Dee. My heart is sad but I will go on always remembering her kindness that she showed my husaband and I. No matter his problems, she always made him feel valued and cared about. The sense of humor they shared together made his last months memorable. The quiet faith she and her husband shared with us at every nightly meal will stay in my heart forever. Look beyond the disability and find the heart. Dee Dee showed us hers. Rest in Peace Dee.

Back to the 50s

As I sit here and contemplate all that is going on in our world today I am reminded of growing up in the 50s.

Our world has come to a standstill. Now that I am over the initial panic my thoughts are somewhat rational unless I listen and watch social media and the news 24/7.

I woke up this morning with the thought that for my husband and I there is no place to go. We have been grounded by our kids. There is no shopping, no restaurants to visit with our friends, no coffee hours etc. I don’t have to worry about work and so I took some time to try and put things into perspective. My main thought was all our lives are about to change. Most of us are not used to going without. We are used to fast access. We are used to having food readily available or taking a day out and away to somewhere fun such as sporting events etc. We are used to having the money to be able to buy what we want when we want it. Our kids are on an endless journey of sports and activities and are rarely home.

This morning I was reminded of my childhood. I told my teenage Granddaughter she was lucky she could at least keep in touch with her friends on social media where if it were in the days when I was a teen we wouldn’t have had that available.

I feel like today is a Sunday in the 1950s. Nothing was open. Stores were closed and life stopped. We didn’t worry about food because there was plenty of jars of canned meat in the cellar and fruits and vegetables too. If we needed eggs we went to the chicken coop or someone would come in from the country and sell us their eggs.

Every week the milkman came and we bought our milk and dairy from him. Groceries could be bought and delivered if needed. And of course at my house we had pretty much every thing we needed if something would happen, because my parents lived through the depression and that lesson never left them. People lived simply.

We read books and played outside or in the evenings talked with our neighbors. We kids were also kept busy helping in the garden or with the chores and yes, there were still things to do in winter. I lost all those simple pleasures and thankfulness with having those experiences living in the busyness of today.

I realize what we are facing now is different. People will be hurting because of lost businesses and lost jobs. Our younger people have never known this or a recession and it is very tough to get through. But I know we have generations behind us oldies that are strong and will figure it out. I have faith in them that they will emerge stronger.

I am reminded that there are people in our country that live with these fears every day and now I imagine they are living with the fear of not having access to a health system to help those without insurance or a safe place to self quarantine. Yet we have been fighting tooth and nail to not make these things available to them before this happened. Maybe we actually have been made to now walk in their shoes. I can’t imagine living with this fear daily. The response of most of us who could afford it is to stock up and hoard because of our fear we are not going to have enough. We need to count our blessings that we could afford to do that.

My hope is that the lessons we learn from this pandemic and how we cope as Americans are remembered. There are some positives. We are coming together helping one another. We are not divided in this but uniting to get through these times. Maybe life will slow down and we will be kinder and more caring to one another and realize that we are more the same than different.

There is an old Bible School song that says it best.

Reach out to your neighbor

Reach out to your friend.

Reach out to the people on the street.

For those of us that are grounded by our kids we can still reach out by phone, text, FaceTime and positive messages to keep up our spirit. It is hard to stay positive but together we can do it. Support your local businesses. They will need us now more than ever and so will those whose jobs are in jeopardy.

There is also the fear of getting sick. It is gut wrenching fear. We look into the future of the next few weeks and we panic not knowing the future. Do we ever? But today, what about today? Can we stay in the moment? Today I am fine. This moment I am fine. I, as much as anyone panic if I let myself think about the time frame and the people that are sick. But today I am fine, my loved ones are fine. I am going to try and go moment by moment, day by day, which is what Alcoholics Anonymous asks of us. And though tomorrow may be different, it may not be. If it is I trust we will work together to get through it and help each other with our panic and fear.

“The best thing about the future is that it comes one day at a time.” ~ Abraham Lincoln

A Yearning For My Front Steps

This morning I have an inexplicable yearning to go outside and sit on my front steps and breathe in life.

It is the appearance of the sun in what has been a cold and bleak and cloudy Minnesota which brings to mind spring and thoughts of flowers and warm weather. However, I can’t explain my feeling that I need a front step sit. I have a perfectly good outside porch to enjoy but something in me tells me I need steps.

Though the sun is shining today my front steps and porch are crusted with ice. It is still winter and there is still snow on the ground. I like the beauty of winter as long as I don’t have to haul my old body outside. The pull is real to feel the fresh air on my face so I may dash out, raise my face to the sun and dash back inside to the warmth of my fireplace. Still, I feel the call of the front steps or the back steps for a peaceful sit.

Outdoor furniture awaits my porch sitting so why would I abandon that in place of the front steps? I think it has to do with my past and memories.

Living at my grandmothers and then when my family moved, we didn’t have fancy outdoor furniture. We would go outside and sit on the steps and talk and enjoy the evening. The front steps were better than the back steps because you could chat with those passing by or you could wave at the cars going by. Occasionally they would stop and talk.

There were interesting views. At my grandmother’s house I sat on the front steps and watched the trains go by or watched the animals. My mom or uncles would come in from the chores or the garden and we would talk for hours on the front steps. At our house my dad would sit with me as we watched the neighbor kids play or visited with those in the neighborhood, sometimes calling across the street. There were no cell phones or outdoor phones to distract us.

I do sit on my front concrete steps occasionally in this day and age for a quick moment when I am shaking out a rug or waiting for someone to pick me up, but most of the time I sit on my comfy chair on my outdoor porch or my patio. I have to say that for some reason it isn’t the same. Perhaps because of the front step memories.

I have no good explanation for yearning for my front steps unless it is perhaps missing those that used to share my experience. I also shared many front step conversations with my best girlfriends. If those steps could talk they would reveal so much about the past lives of the step sitters.

Perhaps when the ice is gone I will forgo my porch and patio for an occasional step sitting. I have a feeling it will be a good way to breathe and appreciate the simple life of the past,

“A journey to a thousand miles begins with one step.” –John F.Kennedy