31 Days of Aging Gracefully: Day 29 — Leaning In


IMG_6207

My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.
Psalm 73:26

Do you see that old bird up there? He’s leaning on one foot, leaning toward his strong side, leaning so that he can stay erect. That’s exactly the kind of old bird I hope I am and will continue to be — one who knows when to lean. And where.

You all know I’m hoping that these sunset years are going to take a good long time for me, that the winding down will be slow and steady, that the life I love will slowly change and undoubtedly diminish, but that it will still be real and meaningful and resilient. Not one of us can know what the years ahead will bring us. The one thing that is certain is that these years will end at some point in the future. But until that day comes, O, Lord! Help me to lean in, to lean on, to lean toward, to lean.

DSC05356

31 Days of Aging Gracefully: Day 28 — Accepting Loss

IMG_6169

Learning to live with loss — loss of all kinds — can happen at any age. For me, it happened later in life. For my eldest daughter, it happened way too early. The man she fell in love with in high school, married after her first year in college, had three sons with . . . he died a difficult death after twenty years of marriage. She was 40.

Other than grandparents (one died when I was 6, one when I was 18, one when I was 23, and one when I was 53!), no one close to me died until I was in my fifties. My best friend died just before we moved to Santa Barbara in 1996. And our dads died 13 and 10 years ago, Dick’s mom last year. My mom is still here. So the loss of loved ones through death is not something I’ve had to grapple with until mid-life.

But I’m here to tell you that there are lots of things that are lost as you move through the years, and not just to death. I have much less bounce in my step these days, not so much elasticity in my skin, either. My handwriting is nearly illegible — not that it was ever great, but you could read it, once upon a time.

Even without mentioning the excess pounds I carried for so many years, this body has had a ton of wear and tear across these decades. Aging skin does very strange things. And don’t get me started about the hair — on my head and everywhere else. Oy vey

No one told me that menopause would be so devastating emotionally. It came as a complete shock to me to grieve the end of having periods at the age of 49. Something about removing options, perhaps? Whatever the causes may be, it did a number on me. 

Now, over twenty years later, I am somewhat more phlegmatic about it all. I’ve learned to roll with it a bit better and not invest so much of my own personal sense of identity in how my body functions and what it looks like. Yes, there are definitely pieces or regret remaining. but overall, I’ve mellowed a bit . . . I hope! After all, aging is the way of nature, the way of time, the way of earth-living. And while losses need to be acknowledged and grieved, they are not the whole story.

Which is precisely why I’ve left this topic (and the biggest one of all — death) for the end of this particular series. Why? Because this series is about embracing and owning the truth that we all age. WE ALL GET OLD. There is no way around it. It is both the price and the privilege of living a long time. So while grief needs to be allowed to exist and run its course, it cannot rule the day.

Learning to live with loss is a necessity, a requirement for these last decades. But here’s a more central truth, one that I want to live every day for however many days may be granted to me: what remains is lovely. And I am grateful for it.

How do you choose to live with loss? What kinds of loss are the hardest for you? Which ones are surprising?

31 Days of Aging Gracefully: Day 27 — Enjoying Family

 

DSC05362

Birthdays are a great excuse to get together with family, don’t you think? Our oldest granddaughter turned ten this week and she picked the restaurant for a fun dinner out with both sets of grandparents.

DSC05238

Earlier in the month, we celebrated with these two — one turning 17, the other 10. 
DSC05114

We’ve also started something new this fall — SOCCER, with our youngest grandgirl. So most Saturdays, we’re there, on the sidelines, trying to be encouraging as five 5-year-olds figure out what to do with their feet on a 1/4 sized field. They’re so dang cute!

DSC05215

All but one of our eight were here at our new home to celebrate those two guys’ birthdays and I caught them all, just as the sun went down. I love the bare feet and silly grins. Each one is unique, each one is remarkable, each one is lovely, interesting, quirky. Maybe most important, they are all kind — to each other and to the adults in their lives, too. It’s a joy to be with them and we plan to take every opportunity offered to us to be together. The older two are moving out into full-on adulthood now, beginning relationships, jobs, making choices that could foreseeably impact them for several decades, if not the rest of their lives. Not sure how long we’ll be welcomed into their journey, but we want to be open and ready for whatever invitation might arise.

DSC05379

And, of course, central to all the rest of those family connections is this one — the one that started it all. And we want to pay attention to that relationship, too. Sometimes that gets harder to do as we age. We’re used to each other, sometimes stuck in ruts, not as likely to take risks or venture out into the new and different. But we’re workin’ on it. At our advanced ages, you do have to exercise a little caution, though, right??? Well, yeah. A little. Smile.

How are you enjoying your family these days? Is it easy to do or a challenge? 

31 Days of Aging Gracefully: Day 26 — Sitting Still

So these are a few of my favorite places to sit still these days. The demands of moving and remodeling have left little time or space for sitting still, but when I can, I choose to sit in one of these spots. IMG_6148

This one least of all because of the heat that radiates here in the afternoons. Now that we’re moving into some cooler weather — we humbly hope and pray! — this little bench may see more use in days ahead.

IMG_5783

These two are my favorites. They’re new to us for this house (ordered through a company new to me called Grandin Road, when they were on sale last summer) and we both love them. We usually eat our breakfast out here and at various points during our day, you’ll find one or both of us sitting here for a moment or two. We’re discovering again, in a different way, that having a lovely view is a very life-giving thing.

DSC05233

Though we haven’t had too many occasions yet to use this space at night, when we have, it’s been nice. The yard is quite small, but it is just big enough for these large pavers and firepit. And the view at night is pretty terrific, too. City lights and all that, you know?

IMG_5939

This spot was a surprise to me when I first used it. I never thought that this particular room might have even a corner of our view, but it does! It’s my study, the room I use for direction, and I am sitting in a chair that matches the one in the foreground, with my computer on my lap, looking out through our tiny dining room toward the city. The fan is on, the breeze is blowing the mini-blinds against the windows and I am luxuriating in some alone time, something which is often at a premium during retirement years.

Finding time and sacred space to sit still, be quiet, meditate, pray, read, think, dream — this is life-giving and necessary. I am so grateful that our new space allows us many options for good sitting.

How do you sit still? Do you relish it or endure it? 

31 Days of Aging Gracefully: Day 25 — Standing Tall

IMG_6159

As we age, our bodies shrink, though not always in the direction we might choose. The pounds may still nag us, but that height we’ve carried? It’s likely to change as we add on years. When I entered UCLA as a freshman in 1962, I stood 5 feet 8 inches tall. When I graduated four years later, they measured me at 5 feet 10 inches tall. I grew during college. Who knew? Not the usual pattern for most of us, but then I’m not all that usual, am I?

So when they told me about five years ago that I was again closer to 5’8″ — I was bitterly disappointed. It took me a long, long time to live into all these inches. I was the tallest cousin on my mom’s side and almost the tallest on my dad’s. I had a grandmother who was 4’11” for heaven’s sake, so I felt a bit like a freak when I was a teenager. But as the years went by, I began to enjoy being tall. Really enjoy it. I could reach things. I could stand next to almost anyone and be taller than or nearly equal to them. Eventually, I settled well into being a tall woman.

Therefore, that year in the doctor’s office was tough for me — 5’8″ felt way too short. So I began trying to stretch as much as I could every year when I had to stand on the dreaded scale and turn backwards for the yardstick on my head. Last year, after losing 3/4 of the weight I’ve been losing over these years of retirement, all of a sudden, that yardstick read 5’9 1/4″ WOW. Losing weight can add inches?? Once again I ask, who knew??

I have no idea which measurement was the more accurate. All I know is I’m keeping this one.

And I’m standing as tall as I can every single day.

Are you tall or short? Does it matter to you? I known a few short women who hate being short, even feel overlooked a lot. Yet I have a daughter who, though short, is always gracious and grateful to be who she is. That’s the way I want to live, don’t you? Standing tall in who we are, no matter how many inches we carry around.

31 Days of Aging Gracefully: Day 23 — Being Honest

IMG_6145

I took my mama off campus for lunch this week, the first time in many weeks I’ve been able to do that. She has tired more easily and so have I, so we’ve settled into the routine of putting her into the smallest of her unit’s wheel chairs and slowly walking over to the charming cafe that is now a part of her retirement community. 

But the weather was glorious, and if El Nino comes to pass, it will not long be that way (thanks be to God! We SO need the rain!), so we went. 

And it was lovely, and sad, and good, and hard. One thing I’ve committed to doing, even though many dementia experts discourage it, is telling my mom the truth. Unlike Dick’s mom, my mother knows that things are not right inside her head, and occasionally — if we’ve sat together quietly long enough, she will ask me about it

And I always tell her the truth.

“How come I don’t remember that you are my daughter? How come I don’t remember being married? How come? Why can’t I think?”

So I tell her.

“Well, Mom, it’s nothing you’ve done, it’s just something that happens sometimes when brains get old. Yours doesn’t work like it once did, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t still you. And I’m here. I can be your memory for you, okay?”

And she is always relieved. Yes, I still get the same, question-of-the-day-whatever-it-might-happen-to-be from her, but she is calmer, steadier, more restful when we’ve talked about this situation as honestly as we can, given her limitations now and my own inarticulate attempts to explain the unexplainable.

IMG_6146

She is so very dear. And so very lovely. And I love her so very much. Yesterday, she asked, “Was I a good mother to you?” And I was moved to tears to tell her how very good a mother she was, to me and to my brothers. 

“Brothers? I have a son?”

“Yes, Mom, you have one son still living.”

“Oh, I’d love to see him.”

I remind her that he calls her on the phone, that he lives very far away and that he’s dealing with some health issues of his own. And she is peaceful.

In ten minutes (or less) she will have forgotten all about it.

Yesterday’s through line question centered around being sure she had my phone number. I told that she does, and when we got her back to her room, I showed her where it is. Of course, she can no longer read it, can no longer use the phone herself. But telling her the truth somehow eases her dis-ease. And if I can do that, then I am happy to be her truth-teller.

It dawned on me the other day that I am currently the only person in her life who sees my mother.  Who sees her for ALL of who she is, who she is now, and who she once was. I’m it. And that makes me feel more lonely than I could have imagined.

31 Days of Aging Gracefully: Day 21 — Stepping Up

IMG_6104

This picture is a gratuitous shot, taken the same morning as yesterday’s series of three at the end of the post. It has no particular connection to today’s theme, but I like to use the panorama feature of my iPhone when I’m standing in that vacant lot and this seemed like a good post to put this one in. And on today’s walk — be still, my heart! — there was a ‘for sale’ sign on that lot. Sob.

In these years of retirement from active pastoral ministry, I’m finding that I am stepping up to do some things that I couldn’t do as easily when I was employed and working on a church staff. And I’m having fun doing them, too. Herewith, a short list:

I am by NO means a professional photographer, but I have a fairly good eye and a moderately cooperative camera. So when I’m asked to take pictures of church activities that are then used in slide shows on Sunday mornings, I always say yes. If I’m in town and going to the event anyhow, why not?

I’m also serving on the nominating committee this year — short-term job, fairly easy. Why not?

We are doing more childcare for our local grandkids — their parents both work, we live nearby, we love those kids and they seem to like being with us, so again — why not?

If I get a call or a note from someone I’ve met online and they want to pursue the possibility of entering into direction with me, I always say, “yes.” I enjoy this work I do and online friends generally seem to be good candidates for a monthly skype session. Why not give it a try? If it works, great. If not, we’re still online friends, right?

I am available for my mom weekly for lunch, sometimes more than once, and to take her to the doctor/dentist or shop for her sundries. I’m here, nearby, she needs some help from me, so . . .yeah, I’ll own that. Why not?

If I’m asked to lead in prayer, read scripture, stay after the service and pray for others — and I am going to be in town, I will always say yes. Why not?

If I don’t have a good answer to that recurrent question ‘why not?’ —  I try to say ‘yes.’ This is a season for stepping up in ways that are both familiar and new, and I’m glad to be able to do so.

What kinds of things does your life allow you to ask, ‘why not?’ about these days? Not every season has room for a positive answer to that query, and I am in no way trying to ‘guilt’ anyone into anything. But I also want to encourage you to ask that question honestly wherever you can. And by ‘honestly,’ I mean looking at your whole life — all your current commitments — your energy level, your health, your marriage, if you’re married, your family, if you have one. If there is space for a step-up, then by all means, take it. If there is not, say ‘no,’ without guilt and without worry. There will be someone else.

31 Days of Aging Gracefully: Day 20 — Hanging On

I am hanging onto worship these days. In as many ways and places as I can find. The older I get, the more intrinsic it becomes to who I am. I think that’s how it’s supposed to happen, to tell you the truth. We’re slow learners, we human creatures. It takes us a lifetime to realize who we are and to whom we belong. As I move through my days, I am more aware than ever of the presence of God, maybe most especially in the details and the humdrum of life. But also, of course, where you might expect to find God.

IMG_6017

For me, a primary place is at the Table, in the eucharist. I dearly wish we were part of a community that celebrated the Lord’s Table every week, but since we are not, I relish that first Sunday experience. I am particularly drawn to communion by intinction — going forward to receive a piece of bread and then dipping it in a shared cup. Something about the movement brings a deeper level of worship for me — an involvement of all the parts of me, I guess.

IMG_6018

Most weeks, the music of our Sunday services is also a primary point of connection for me, a time of worship that moves me to a different place somehow. Again, I think it’s because of the body involvement. We stand for a lot of our singing and that gives us a bit more freedom to move gently with the rhythm or to lift hands with the words (though not many of us do that; we do have Swedish roots in our denomination, after all). I had someone say, almost snidely, that most of the time an opening set of songs is designed to make us ‘feel good.’ I beg to differ. I think music can bring us to worship faster than words. And when you combine good melody and rhythm with good words — well, then — what’s not to love?

IMG_6040

I also move into worship quite naturally when I’m at the beach, looking at the water. The ocean has always spoken to me of God, invited me to ‘bow the knee,’ and express both my gratitude and my awe. As long as I’m able to get there, I want to see the ocean every week — preferably more than once in a week!

IMG_6093

The Word is a place where worship happens, too. Both the word written and the word spoken. But maybe most of all, the Word as a living, breathing presence in my thoughts and actions. The Spirit is that Word for a Christian, bringing to mind written words, ideas, groans. And faces, names, situations for whom I need to be praying. And prayer for me does not look like it once did. I talk some. But I listen more. And I visualize more. I also do a brief examen, or praying backwards through my day, as I drift off to sleep. All of that, as well as the time I spend reflecting on directees before I meet with them, the times I say ‘thank you’ for the gifts that are mine, the times that I am obedient to that nudge inside that says, “write her a note,” or, “call that one and go to tea,” or “find a way to say you’re sorry.” All of that is communion, which is one of the dearest kinds of worship for me.

IMG_6117

And, of course,  I am hanging onto those morning walks which bring me directly into the presence of our God with each step, no matter how hard I’m breathing as I climb those hills! I took this shot of the sun just peeking over the southwest coastline today, at about 7:10 a.m. And here’s what I love about it. I was standing here — in the middle of a very steep, vacant lot, chuck full of gopher holes and weeds.

IMG_6110 IMG_6111

Unsightly, rough, and yet . . . the place where I breathe in the beauty of our new neighborhood more fully than almost anywhere else. The place where I pause to worship every day. Go figure.

Worship can happen anywhere, can’t it?

Where do you worship most freely/easily?

31 Days of Aging Gracefully: Day 19 — Letting Go

DSC05354

Here is a small, but interesting lesson I’m learning right now. Sometimes when we give something up, when we let go of it, we find something else to take its place. For me these last few months, the ‘giving up,’ or ‘letting go,’  has been late night TV watching and/or reading. As I mentioned in an earlier post in this series, our trip to Kauai in July brought a change in my body clock after we returned home.

So I can’t really say that I made a conscious, sacrificial decision to ‘let it go.’ It just went. We were packing and schlepping right after we got home and I was beyond tired much of the time. It was also the dead of summer, when there isn’t much that’s decent on the television and most of my friends’ new books hadn’t yet been released. So if I was tired, I went to bed. And most nights, I went to sleep, pretty quickly.

I no longer needed those late hours to help me find some solitary space. I’m not sure why I no longer needed that, but I know that it’s true. Instead of waiting for my usual second wind kind of experience in the evenings, I just paid attention to my sleepiness quotient and went to bed when I reached my limit. 

What a novel idea!

Yes, sometimes I am unbearably slow. Or stubborn. Or something.

So most nights since the end of July, I’ve been in bed, on my way to sleep by 10:00 p.m. You need to know that this is record setting for me. When my children were tiny, I routinely stayed up until 1:00 or 2:00 a.m., just to have some quiet space. I often did crafts or read or watched Johnny Carson. I just needed some time in my own house when I was alone and not ‘on call’ to anybody else. So I took it where I could get it — and those late hours came quite naturally to me.

I do realize that three months do not a new person make and I’m watching and waiting to see if the old habits will creep in once again. Occasionally, I do stay up until 11:00 or 11:30 — but unless I’m battling insomnia (which, for me, takes the form of a maddening inability to fall asleep more than wakefulness once asleep), I’m usually sawing logs by 10:30. 

Radical idea, right?

Yes, actually, for me — it is.

But here’s the flipside, the bonus, the gift-I-wasn’t-expecting: I’m up with the sun most days.

Say, WHAT???

Yup. This night owl is up with that sun. And I’m rewarded with an occasional view like the one at the top of this post. Glory in the morning, oh, YEAH. I’m liking this trade-off!

What are you letting go of these days? Or what do you think you might need to let go of?

31 Days of Aging Gracefully: Day 18 — Laughing ’til It Hurts

I’ll admit it right up front: I do not do this often enough. Laughter is the best medicine I know and one of my favorite things about my husband is that he makes me laugh regularly. But that side-splitting, almost-sick feeling of laughing until you cannot breathe? That needs to happen more often. And I’m not quite sure how to make it so.

Part of it has to do with my own attitude, I think. When I’m anxious, rushed, overbusy — it’s much harder to see the humor in anything. And just like yesterday’s post about looking for the small, I think we also have to be looking for the laugh.

Because I do believe there are things to laugh about all around us. As with so much of this life, it’s having the eyes to see, don’t you think?

Here is a short list of things that do make me laugh. What about you?

IMG_6075

These girls are regular sources of delight! Here, they’ve just had their ears pierced — at the urging of the littlest one. Who knew?

DSC05253

Men riding bicycles in church, complete with helmets. (It was for an announcement.)

DSC05294

Story at the steps time on Sunday mornings. Almost always there is something said or done to make me crack up. Last week, Pastor Don asked, “What do you do when you feel scared in the night time?” And one of the kids said something almost unintelligible, but Don heard it as “Lie.” “Lie?” he asked. “How in the world does that help you?” The child corrected him loudly, “LIGHT!” Ah, yes. Light. It helps every time. Smile.