Getting Older and a Few Things I’ve Learned

Today I am 50 years old. I took the day off work and had lunch with my mom. One of her dining companions told me “Some day you’ll realize how young 50 is.” I think I realize it now. I don’t feel old. At all.

However, an interesting thing happened a while back that gave me a hint that I might have lived a while. I picked up a copy of Anna Quindlen’s “A Short Guide to a Happy Life” hoping to glean some gems of wisdom. As I thumbed through the pages, I found myself thinking, “But I already know this.” Oh! Epiphany time! Maybe I’m now an elder who can dispense wisdom as well as receiving it. Like Anna Quindlen.

This possibly being the case, here are a few things I’ve learned through the years:

1. You can never really know what anyone else is thinking. You can only know what they’re saying and doing. Two different people can do the exact same thing for two completely different reasons. Sometimes you might make a good guess and the evidence might support that guess, but you’ll never know for sure. I’ve found my life usually goes better when I give the benefit of the doubt, if at all possible.

2. I’ve had the privilege of spending time with a variety of people from different backgrounds, of different races, religious beliefs, political opinions, abilities and economic levels. I’ve been in groups of atheists and groups of fundamentalist Christians. I’ve known Buddhists and Muslims. I’ve conversed with folks who are wealthy and folks who are homeless; I’ve discussed politics with liberals, libertarians and conservatives. And one thing holds true. No matter the beliefs or circumstances of a group of people, if you get a big enough crowd together, you’ll end up with the same basic mix of personalities. Some will be loud, some quiet, some arrogant, some humble, some considerate, some inconsiderate, some driven, some more relaxed, some selfish, some giving. People are people are people.

3. Others will come and go in my life, but I’m guaranteed to have to live with myself every minute of every day until I die. So I need to be a person I can live with. In the long-term, I rest easier when I listen to my conscience more than I listen to popular opinion.

4. Hand-in-hand with #3 – the biggest regrets in my life, the most painful memories, are not the ones in which someone hurt me, but the ones in which I acted badly and hurt someone else. Those are the memories that haunt me.

5. Forgiveness is a necessary building block of society. We all need it at one time or another. If there is no forgiveness, there is no reason to try to do better next time.

6. No matter what you do, somebody won’t like it. Make your peace with this.

7. Nobody escapes pain. Bad things will happen to you. But what happens to you and who you are – those are two different things.

8. Worrying has never helped me through any situation so far. If things went south, obviously the worrying didn’t correct the problem. If things turned out okay, I was worried for nothing.

9. Stopping a moment to breathe has helped me through numerous situations.

10. This is a very personal lesson. I am old enough now that a realization is finally sinking in – I’m never going to fix everything about myself. There’s one specific area I’ve worked on a lot. I have social anxiety and am resultantly socially awkward. I’ve made great strides over the years, but I know now I’m never going to cure myself. It will always be a condition to be managed; never one from which I’ve recovered. The good news is I’ve also decided it’s okay to have this imperfection. I no longer berate myself about it. After all, Ted Bundy reportedly possessed excellent social skills and look what he did with them.

11. Taking care of your teeth is more important than I can possibly say.

12. 50 isn’t too old to feel crushing disappointment when a package arrives at your house on your birthday and it’s not for you.

13. You really can learn something new every day, no matter how long you live.

14. The universe is an amazing place.

If I think of more, I’ll write an addendum.

Another Birthday

My mom made it another year. Last weekend we celebrated her 89th birthday. Going out is too hard for Mom any more. But we had a good celebration anyway. One of my nephews made it into town (the one she likes to mention to people as “my grandson, the eye doctor”) and my 18-year-old baked a truly delish chocolate cake. And I found the perfect birthday gift. My mom worked as a welder during World War II. So for the shelf in her room, what could be more appropriate than this? Yep, I bought my mom a superhero action figure for her 89th birthday. She loved it.

Anything But the Crafts Room

My youngest child is 15. Five years ago today, I volunteered at my last grade school class party. I remember the day with great fondness, recalling the dance of joy I did in the parking lot afterward as I said to myself, “I never have to do that ever again in my entire life!”

The way my kids’ grade school did parties was to have each class rotate through various rooms – the Crafts Room, the Snack Room, the Game Room. My first class party I eagerly asked what I should do and was assigned to the Crafts Room, where I was handed some colored paper and glue sticks, along with an instruction sheet containing unfathomable diagrams. Thirty seconds later I had kindergarteners lined up, waiting for me to show them how to make their whatever it was supposed to be. I’m not a crafty person and I work a lot better with linguistic instruction than pictures. The other parents in the room were breezing through their lines of kids, while I sat and wondered which way the paper was supposed to fold.

I learned a valuable lesson that day. Show up early and grab a spot in the Snack Room dipping ice cream, before someone else takes the position. The number of kids still seems overwhelming, but once you’ve filled them with sugar, you get to send them out of the room to go be someone else’s hyperactive problem.

Valentine’s Day always featured the added bonus of showing up with a case of PTSD from having assembled and addressed three dozen valentines the night before with a kid who insisted they fervently wanted to give out valentines, yet couldn’t seem to get through the task of even signing them. The first couple of years I insisted I wasn’t doing the work for their valentines. This progressed to, “Okay, I’ll make and address half and you address half, but you have to sign them all.” The final year I gave up all pretense. I bought a package of Iron Man perforated cards and forged my son’s name on them. It was easier and less stressful that way.

There are things I miss about having younger kids. I miss going to the park. I miss bedtime reading and snuggles on the couch. But there are compensations, with no more class parties being one of the biggies.

You Were Right, Mom

While my mom is still around, I want to take this opportunity to say, publicly, that she was right about so many things. Not that we see eye-to-eye on everything. But I’ve come around on a lot of issues since I was a kid.

I can rarely convince my son to wear a coat, even on the coldest winter days. I comfort myself by noticing how few kids exiting his high school in the afternoon are bundled up. If I’m a bad mom, at least I have lots of company. I remember how I never wanted to wear a winter hat in my younger days, no matter how many maternal admonishments I received about frost-bitten ears. I wouldn’t believe my mom was right about how important it was to cover your head in order to stay warm, because nobody else my age was doing it. In a concrete sense, I really was too cool.

Somewhere in the years of my adult life I stopped caring whether other people were wearing hats or not. I wanted to be warm. Since I have a lot of hair, I often go for a scarf wrapped around my head in lieu of hat, but I do cover my head with something when the temperature dips below freezing. Mom, you were right. It makes a huge difference.

And, Mom, the thing where you always cleaned the top of a can before opening it? Totally the right thing to do. I used to think this was a silly obsession springing from your clean freak nature. Besides, it added needless seconds onto the food prep time. Then I became a mother, myself. After enough experience cleaning up someone else’s puke, I couldn’t help thinking a little harder about food safety and cleanliness. Once I took the time to make a close observation of the workings of the can opener, I realized how easily the device could push anything from the top of the can into the food. I’ll never reach anywhere near my mom’s level of tidiness, but on this one issue, yeah, she’s probably right. Definitely right. It only takes a couple of seconds after all, to wipe the top of a can. And then I can serve my family tomato sauce with confidence.

Also, my things do last longer when I take care of them. Who would have thought it? Oh yeah – you, Mom.

Christmas on the Couch

It’s Christmas afternoon and I’m still in my pajamas. On the couch. Coughing up a lung. This holiday isn’t going as planned. But then I’ve always heard the way to make the Universe laugh is to make a plan. It must be chuckling up a storm. I’m trying to laugh along and make the best of it. For instance, right after typing that sentence I added to the gaiety by accidentally dumping out the contents of a nearly-full economy-sized bag of cough drops. Ha ha ha!

After my mother spent several hours at our house on Thanksgiving, it became obvious she can no longer handle so much disruption in her day. Her back problems flared worse than ever and she was exhausted. It took her days to recover. I had a little moment when my husband, kids and I were decorating our Christmas tree, our ornaments including a few vintage ones that survived my childhood. I experienced a wave of sadness knowing my mom will never decorate a tree with me again. She’ll likely never come to our house again. I also had a few seconds of irritability over the fact that humanity hasn’t developed teleportation technology yet, because it would solve this problem. She could beam in for a few minutes and then beam back to the nursing home. I settled for taking a photo of the tree to show her.

The best Christmas tree. We got a spectacular one this year. Not many ornaments down low because three cats.

I asked Mom if she thought she could handle a short outing to a restaurant. She believes she can, so our plan was to pick her up on Christmas Eve and go to IHOP, her favorite. For today, I thought I’d make a lasagna and some sides to have at home and at some time during the day pop over to visit Mom again. But over the weekend I developed a tickle in my throat, the same tickle reported by some of my local acquaintances before they fell all-out sick. Yep, I caught the thing that’s going around. Also, over the weekend, one of my molars broke and I managed to acquire a second-degree burn on my arm while removing a dish from the oven. At some point, my life started to resemble a sit-com plot. However, if I’ve learned anything from my mother, it’s to make the best of the situation, whatever it is.

Though I’m sad not to be with my mom on Christmas, I’m reminded once again how blessed I am with family, both immediate and extended. My husband and my 15-year-old son went over yesterday to see my mom (the 18-year-old caught what I have, so stayed home) and take her gift plus the staff gift bag I put together.

Let me go off the rails here, and recommend this idea for nurses, aides and housekeeping staff at skilled nursing facilities. Since there are so many of them, I put together a bag of items for the break room: hot cocoa mix, including regular and sugar-free, a variety of teas, popcorn, mixed nuts, snack crackers, etc. It’s easy and covers everyone.

For the staff break room at the nursing home.

Back to family now – my two guys had a good visit with my mom. Plus I put out the word to far-flung relatives that I couldn’t see her on Christmas, so she might appreciate some phone calls. When I called her about an hour ago, she was thrilled to report her phone had been ringing all yesterday and today. This cheers me up.

Also, my spouse and kids make the holiday fun. We’re a geeky crew who all like a good joke. After my two teens went on errands without me the other day, a package appeared under our tree with a gift tag saying it was to the whole family, and from:

We are favored by the Marvel superheroes.

The kids come by this creative packaging honestly. Here’s what my husband gave me this year:

No really, it's a box of rocks. — No really, it’s a box of rocks.

Oh wait, there was something underneath the rocks. Michelle Obama arms, here I come!

It’s hard not to have fun when the people around you are putting so much effort into making the event enjoyable.

Our three cats have helped, too, taking turns sitting on my lap.

Top Seniority Cat - my 15-year-old kid doesn't remember life without her. — Top Seniority Cat – my 15-year-old kid doesn’t remember life without her.

Cat who is on a diet, but sneaks the other cats' food if we're not careful. — Cat who is on a diet, but sneaks the other cats’ food if we’re not careful.

Cat who showed up and adopted us a few months ago.

Then there’s the Pandora Christmas station for holiday cheer, and Netflix to give me a chance to watch some of those movies I’ve been meaning to watch over the years. I finally saw “White Christmas” with Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye. Not much of a story, after all, but the singing and dancing is wonderful. I tried watching “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation” and now take comfort in the knowledge I haven’t been missing much. After 15 minutes, I switched to “Men in Black.” Much more entertaining. I’ll have to dial up the sequels.

While I languish on the couch, my family members have been foraging in lieu of a Christmas dinner appearing for them. Macaroni and cheese has been cooked, and we’ve wiped out the back stock of canned soup. Meanwhile, IHOP awaits for the day when we’re all well again. And I still have the ingredients for lasagna.

Thanksgiving

I’ve been floundering lately, feeling overwhelmed and undercompetent a lot. I’m glad for the Thanksgiving holiday to help me escape the funk. What a great idea – a holiday about gratitude. I do have so much to celebrate.

So many people say I’m grateful for my family, and I truly am. But that seems so general. For the ones I see all the time, there are specific things I appreciate about each of them.

My mom: First, I’m thankful she’s here to celebrate another holiday with us. We have our differences of opinion, but I’m happy I learned from her the value of doing your best to figure out what’s right and do it. You don’t really see your parents in context until you’re grown and you find out how differently some other people were raised.

There were things I didn’t know to be thankful for when I was growing up, but I do now. My mom never criticized my appearance. She had her ideas about appropriate clothing as far as modesty and I have different standards now, but beyond that, she never said a bad word about my weight, my hair, my complexion, any of it. I took this for granted, not knowing at the time how many girls were developing terrible self-images based on their parents’ critical remarks. Sure, I got plenty of it from society at large, but not getting it from my mom helped me not internalize it. In fact, my mom has never criticized anyone based on looks, or even commented on looks much at all, except for the occasional compliment on a new hairstyle or saying “That color looks good on you.” I’m thankful I was taught by example not to judge someone on appearances.

My husband: I recently read an article about a study of cities in the U.S. that said our little city is one of the hardest-working. My immediate response was “That’s because my husband lives here. He skews the results.” He’s always been willing to work however many hours it takes to get a job done, and is currently doing freelance projects on the side in addition to his day job.

My firstborn (18 years old now): I appreciate her enthusiasm. When she enjoys something – a book, movie, tv show, pet, food – she enjoys it thoroughly and without embarrassment. And she loves to see others enjoying things in equal measure, even if it’s not the same things. She embraces diversity of tastes. And she finds fun ways to share the excitement over her interests. The other day, when I got out of the shower, the mirror was all steamed up. There in the condensation clearly appeared the words “Welcome to Night Vale.” I have one suspect. One. I’m going to miss these little happenings when she eventually moves out.

My younger child (now 15): He has incredible focus and stamina when he’s working on a project. His two big interests are music and computer programming. In either area, he can work for hours on end. There may be an attention span deficit in his generation, but he doesn’t contribute. And then I get new music in my life. So what’s not to like.

I’m leaving now to pick up my mom and bring her to our house for the day. Happy Thanksgiving!

Nothing Like a Walk to Clear the Head

“Walking is man’s best medicine.” – Hippocrates.

And woman’s, I would add. I’m lucky to live in a good walking neighborhood. One of my favorite spots is a park a few blocks away. It has no playground equipment. But it has a stream running through the middle, some open grassy areas, lots of trees and a couple of mysteries.

What are those things coming up out of the ground? I keep walking past them and wondering. They’re made of tree-like material. My best guess is that they’re part of the surrounding trees’ root systems. Some day I might do some research and find more information. But for now, I want to keep my walks to their intended purposes – get some exercise and get outside my head. Shutting down my overactive mind, giving it a rest, is one of the biggest benefits of my regular constitutionals. At this point, I prefer to enjoy the unusualness of the sight without having to know everything about it.

Nothing clears my head more effectively than a good walk outdoors. It’s always been my go-to. When my kids were little, I had a fancy schmancy two-seater wagon with cup holders. I’d often load them in with sippy cups and snacks and pull them around the neighborhood. And the day generally went better afterward.

Now that they’re young adults, I walk alone most of the time. I’m an introvert so this works for me. It’s my time not to have to think about my mom’s Medicaid paperwork, or whether my son is caught up on his homework, or getting the leaking shower fixed. All of those things will be waiting for me when I come back. And I’ll be less likely to snap at anyone over them.

Walking – free, easy, requires no special equipment, and it makes me feel good. Hippocrates couldn’t have been more right.

Or You Could Say “Congratulations”

“How are you going to manage that?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you going to be able to keep up with everything?”

“Maybe you should wait a couple of years.”

“Congratulations.”

Finally! Eventually I received a positive response on my increase in paid work hours.

I’ve been at a little over half time in my public library job for a number of years. And that’s been okay, as I was raising my kids, etc., etc. It’s hard to move beyond that hours-wise without a real library science degree. But there are a few opportunities here and there, on occasion. For quite a while, I’ve been watching for a chance to increase my hours, planning to pounce at the first opening.

My moment arrived a couple of months ago (hence the suspension of blogging activities.) Is this the perfect moment to add more to my workload? No. I still have two teens at home, and helping my mom is like having a second job, especially when it comes to dealing with Medicaid. But another opportunity might not occur for …who knows?

Has it been a big adjustment, and have others had to sacrifice? Yes on both counts. I’ve cut actual visits to my mom from three times per week to two. I’m not as available to help keep my son on track with his schoolwork (he has auditory processing difficulties and thus needs more parental involvement than some kids his age.) I don’t even pretend to try to make dinner before reporting for my twice-weekly evening shifts. I don’t write as much, and I panic a little more about whether I’m going to cover the essential tasks of keeping life running.

Was it the wrong decision? No. Could I have waited a couple of years? I’m not certain if another opportunity would come along. And we do certainly have uses for the money right now. My older child is attending community college, which is not free. One of our vehicles has 180,000+ miles on the engine. Our house is old and falling apart. And then there are the mid-life crisis and retirement fund issues.

Could I wait a couple of years? I’m not getting any younger. At some point I have to stop waiting to do things. And there are days when I feel as if I’ve waited away half my life already. Plus, seeing up close what happens when you’re old and you run out of money has lit a fire under me to save as much as I can for retirement, starting immediately.

I did think things through. For the person who asked – do you know me at all? I have a well-deserved reputation for over-thinking decisions. How am I going to manage? The same way millions of people do. I’ll live with a little more dust and there will be nights I won’t sleep enough. I’ll hit the top priorities on my to-do list and the rest will slide.

I’ve worked hard to get one of the coveted more-hours-benefitted positions at my workplace. I’ve worked hard to be reliable and competent. I’ve pro-actively pursued training opportunities and volunteered for additional responsibilities. One of the hazards of working for pay part-time or not at all is the ease with which you can start to question your own value. Many days I wondered if I had lost the ability to support myself. Psychologically, getting this position was a big boost. My work has been noticed and valued. I’m not a complete loser.

I was happy, really happy, about this new development. Right up until I started telling people about it. I was unprepared for the number of folks in my inner circle who seemed ready to burst my bubble when I shared the news. You’re sorry to hear it? You’re sorry I have to take a promotion to more hours and better benefits? Ouch. This is the 21st century. Would you ever say that to a man? Even a man who had teenagers at home and was helping his elderly mother?

Or would you offer congratulations? Ponder it.

The World Opens Up Again

The good news – excellent news – is that my mom’s hearing is restored to its former level. Indeed, she only needed to have her ear canals cleaned, as they were completely clogged with wax.

The comic/tragic aspect of the experience had to do with me not being able to accompany her to the doctor’s appointment. I had so completely given myself permission not to feel guilty, not to worry that everything would go wrong without me there to keep it right. The aides who work with her are kind and good. They know her, she knows them. She’d be fine with any one of them helping her.

The nurse who made the ENT appointment had assured me she’d explain to my mom why we decided to get her the first possible appointment instead of waiting until I could go along. And she probably did, but my mom couldn’t really hear at the time. I couldn’t call to explain it to Mom, for obvious reason.

A different nurse was on duty the morning of Mom’s appointment. That day, I arrived at work, took my cell phone out of my purse to put it in my pocket (ringer off) and realized I had a voicemail from the nursing home, left while I was in transit ten minutes earlier. We’re not really supposed to use our cell phones at work, but I was able to listen to the message surreptitiously. The key part was “Your mom’s appointment is in a few minutes and she won’t get on the van to go. She keeps saying we have to wait for you to get here.” Oh crap. Crappity crap crap.

Of course, by the time I listened to the message, it was too late. Either she was on the van already or it had left without her. I called and left a voice mail at the nurse’s station asking for someone to contact me at my work number. Thirty long minutes later the nurse called me back and told me they’d convinced Mom to go.

In the afternoon, between my work shifts, I called again to ask what the doctor said. The nurse read me the notes they had, mentioning hearing loss in both ears blah blah medical jargon blah blah, adjusted hearing aide medical jargon.

“Do they know why she lost so much hearing so quickly, though?”

“Well, I read you everything it said.”

“Did they find any wax or fluid or anything?”

“It doesn’t say. But you can call their office directly.”

So I did. I talked to a nurse there who repeated hearing loss in both ears blah blah medical jargon…

“Do they know why her hearing declined so dramatically all of a sudden?”

“She already had hearing loss. She was wearing a hearing aid when she came in.”

“Yes, but she went from the hearing aid helping her live her life and have conversations to almost no hearing at all even with it in.”

“She could get a second hearing aid.”

“Okay. I’ll look into that. Um, did you all by chance clean any wax out of her ears or anything?”

“Oh yes. Her ear canals are narrow and they were completely filled with wax.”

“They dug so deep I was afraid they’d puncture my brain,” my mom told me later.

When I visited her the next day, she heard me knock on the door. We had a face-to-face conversation rather than a mouth-to-ear one. She’d watched a TV show and understood it. She told me about the morning’s activity. She was back to being an active member of her world. This afternoon, I called her on the phone and heard about their ice cream social, with accounts of all the funny things people said. And she doesn’t believe she needs a second hearing aid for now.

Excellent news.

Suddenly Deaf

My mom’s hearing is gone. Pffttt. Disappeared. Like that (imagine my fingers snapping.)

She already had some hearing loss, but has managed to do okay with a hearing aid in one ear. You could carry on a conversation if you spoke up a little. Then suddenly, a couple of weeks ago, she could hear almost nothing. It’s gotten a little better at times and then worse again. She can understand me if I put my mouth right next to her ear and speak slowly. That’s it.

She has an appointment tomorrow morning with an ENT. I hope we discover impacted wax or something that can be remedied on the spot. My consultation with Doctors NIH and Google tell me sudden hearing loss is often idiopathic, meaning nobody ever figures out the reason. Oh, please no. Sometimes hearing mysteriously goes away and then shows back up in a couple of weeks, as if it had been out on a beach vacation. Sometimes it goes away and never comes back and they never find a reason. Sometimes there’s a virus or a tumor. An sometimes there’s a severe wax buildup.

Mom’s quality of life has diminished quite a lot with her sudden deafness. She no longer attends the weekly Bible study, since she can’t hear what’s being said. She doesn’t have conversations with other residents of the nursing facility. She doesn’t even watch TV, unless it’s a baseball game, something she can track without the sound. Her family can’t call and chat with her over the phone. I almost always call on days I don’t visit in person. But now I can’t. My 15-year-old son is learning guitar. He’d been planning to go with me last Saturday to visit and play a couple of songs for her, but there was no point in taking the guitar after all. She is doing a lot of reading, so there’s a silver lining.

I suppose tomorrow I’ll have more information on whether she can recover her hearing or whether this is the new normal. If it’s the latter, it will be a big adjustment for everyone.