Tag: golden years

We Need an Ouchy Manual at a Certain Age

So someone forgot to pass out the instruction manual for people over sixty-five. Sure, they send you the Medicare card and your Social Security info. But we need instructions on how to find out why a new ache or pain shows up every morning without warning? Most times, you have no idea how or why or how it got there; so where’s the easy-to-read chart to navigate this golden-years crapola?

It’s no longer possible to just hop up out of bed in the morning. Now it’s a process.

First you have to ask your body’s permission to get out of bed. If you get the all clear then make sure that movement doesn’t equal pain.

Or at least a minimum of pain anyway.

When you ascertain you can actually lift your tush off the bed, that first step in the morning tells the tale.

If someone mouths an OUCH, and it’s you, that means you might spend the better part of the morning figuring out what you did to piss your body off.

Was it how you slept on your arm? The shoes you wore last night for that party?

Did you sleep in a crazy position? Has the ouch fairy left you a quarter under your pillow, plugged in the heating pad?

You may be asking why it is important to track down the cause of the pain and not just inhale the Motrin and shut up, but I’m an optimist.

I still believe if I can find the cause I can avoid these little skirmishes with my body.

Stop laughing, I can hear you.

Yes of course, pain is a part of life at a certain age that we’ve come to expect. At least many have. I know there are the lucky ones who have managed to hang onto youth. Don’t you just hate those guys?

There is an ouch factor inherent in our existence that now embeds itself into our lifestyle.

But there is no manual to avoid the aches and pains. Despite inhaling kale, force feeding oneself handfuls of vitamins each day and promising to hit the gym, we wind up in the garage for repairs like a classic Corvette. Love my new bionic knee.

Oh, sure there are urban myths about people who actually awaken in the morning without discomfort or pain. I’ve heard tell, and I’ve dreamed one day it might be me. But alas, these tales are as credible as the fodder spewing from a politician’s mouth.

On occasion a friend will remark about someone they know who can run a marathon, walk ten miles or feel as spry as when they were fifty. Of course, we both laugh at the thought and discuss how hard it is to climb the stairs now. Then we drink a toast to the guy who invented escalators.

My response to these fables is always, show me the proof and I’ll believe you. I do believe we grow more skeptical as we age.

After seventy my week consists of perhaps one doctor appointment, PT session, Maj game, ordering groceries online and lunch with a friend. This creates the illusion life in the laugh laugh golden years is business as usual. And we all know the usual was shopping, working, lunch, rush home to make dinner and get the kids ready for bed. Then get up the next day and do it all again.

It is to laugh. I once lived that life. However, by the way my body reacts now when I simply try to raise myself off a chair and it takes five minutes to straighten up, I have a hard time believing that person ever existed.

Yet what is one to do? Maj Jong has become a bit louder now because no one can hear the tiles called anymore. Food is an adversary instead of a welcome friend. And my body is adamant it needs a day off now and then to recharge its batteries.

Plus, getting up in the morning is the equivalent of playing Name That Tune at the doctor’s office.

I can name that pain in two ouches. I can name it in one… okay, so name it.

The doctor asks where is the pain?

“I’m not sure,” I say. “It could be below the waist, but I do feel it above the waist also. And it travels to both sides and down my leg.”

Of course he asks, “Did you do anything different yesterday? Lift something heavy perhaps?”

“Sure. I went to the gym and benched three hundred pounds. Look at me Doc. Isn’t it enough I lift my ass out of bed in the morning?”

“Are you eating right?”

After I stop laughing, I assure him I’m eating far better than I once did, although through no choice of my own. Lord, I miss chocolate.

He asks if there is anywhere it doesn’t hurt?

I think a minute before answering because it’s important to get this right. “I’m not sure because I kind of feel ouchy all over.”

“Ouchy all over,” he responds.

I imagine that’s a phrase that makes it super easy for a doctor to diagnose.  I can see the commercial on TV now. For that ouchy all over feeling take two time-release tablets and get through a day like you were fifty again.

Side effects may include, nausea, heartburn, backaches, heart failure and a bit of dizziness upon awakening.  Certain cases have been reported of hip breakage and balance issues. Lymphoma may occur on rare occasions. If any of these symptoms occur call your doctor or go to the hospital immediately.

Now I’m no medical genius, but I think I’ll take my chances without these miracle pills. Ouchy is looking good after hearing all those side effects. Are these drug companies trying to heal you or scare you to death?

We all accept that most days you’re never going to feel the way you did when you were forty, but sixty is looking good here.

So I’ve decided to make friends with the ouchies that greet me upon awakening.  I think if you get out of bed with only one familiar ache, it’s a good day.

Let’s face it, our bodies have slowed down a bit, the least we can do is cut them some slack. Do I feel the same as I did twenty years ago? Did I expect to? No and no. But one must simply tell oneself we are lucky to be here aches and all and get on with it.  

But I still think a manual would be helpful.

How to be Happy at a Certain Age

How to Be Happy at a Certain Age

At what age are we allowed to stop listening to Tony Robbins?

After a lifetime of making decisions, bad and good don’t we earn the right to cover our ears when someone tells us how to have our best life?

Excuse me! Haven’t we already done that? And when we are at an age when we’ve pretty much become what we are or ever will be, how can these gurus help us now?

This morning my big dilemma was whether or not to get my haircut. Yes, I know it’s hardly anything to get into a quandary about. Still, it involved some long-range thinking about when I might go if not today and trying to fit it in between doctor appointments. So at what point would Wayne Dyer, Tony Robbins, Les Brown or anyone’s advice help me make this earth-shattering choice?

Since I’ve spent a lifetime hearing the adage, “Never put off until tomorrow etc. etc.” I now feel perfectly comfortable putting anything I want off until anytime I want.

I have firmly decided that the word ornery as it pertains to older people is in itself justified.

Are we ornery if we simply feel we deserve to make our own choices, plan our own days and see who we wish to see? Is this a flaw in an otherwise kindly and easy-going nature.

How many times have we heard the expression he or she is so stubborn now? I can’t get them to do anything anymore.

You bet you can’t. For why should we? After a life of living up to other’s expectations of how we should act, raise our children, dress, and think and feel a certain way, it’s okay to say no.

I believe it’s perfectly acceptable when our daughters tell us Mom that purple nail polish is too young for you, to nod and say okay and then wear it anyway.

When the lease from my car ran out it had fewer miles on it than a demo. So I decided to buy it instead of leasing again.

My son called and asked me if I had made up my mind this was the best thing to do.

I said yes, I love my car and I want to keep it.

“Okay Mom,” he said. “But are you certain this is the car you want to drive for the rest of your life?”

What am I 90 years old? How do I know? Perhaps in three years I’ll decide I want another car. But I didn’t say that. I knew he was thinking that soon he and his sister would be seriously considering taking away the car keys. Although I have no intention for quite a while.

So yes, now we have established that my kids think I’m 100 years old and have one foot out the door.

But I don’t and will not start to think that way for some time to come.

As poet Dylan Thomas wrote; Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Here, here to Dylan Thomas! But gentle may be the only way you can go when your arthritis is acting up.

Sadly, many of my friends admit their kids see them as old as well. But are we supposed to sit in the house and stop living just waiting around for old Grim Reaper to ring our doorbell?

I wouldn’t answer anyway. Let him think he has the wrong address for a while.

If there is one positive about aging it’s the feeling of freedom it brings. We are no longer constrained by societal norms. Nor are we limited by anything but our own tired aching bones.

As long as I am still winning arguments with my hips and able to scamper along, just call me Bambi.

Please understand I’m not saying that when we’re young and forging our path through life, these gurus can’t make a positive impact. But by my age one should know it’s all a state of mind.

Because others see us as old doesn’t mean we see ourselves that way. Our mirrors reflect a younger us.

Mind over matter is probably more important in old age because if we begin giving into our creaky bones, they get the upper hand.

If our gray hair is all we see, it’s over. If we face the fact our children have suddenly become what they perceive as the parents, we will feel as old as they see us.

I always gave into my children and still do, especially my grandchildren, but I also have cultivated a sense of amusement at it all.

Did Wayne Dyer ever talk about how to get through a day when you are in pain? Did he ever tell someone how to look in the mirror and refuse to see the wrinkles that suddenly popped up on their face?

No, I’m afraid that’s a life lesson one can only learn through experience.

What kind of person we are is formed throughout our life and when we reach the laugh-laugh golden years, we find ourselves falling back on old coping mechanisms. These life lessons help fend off the limitations we may face.

My choice is humor, others may choose golf, pickleball, cards, joining clubs, taking up art, travel or a new hobby.

I have decided grandchildren keep you young. So who needs gurus when you have those adorable little faces looking up at you? Not me, most definitely not me.

So if your kids look at you like you are the Crypt Keeper, if the world sees an old person as you pass by and if you can’t walk as fast as you once did at the mall, it’s all okay.

Even gurus get old and if any one of them has the answer of how to live forever, I’ll buy that book.

Do We Stop Living Before We Die?

“Age is something that doesn’t matter, unless you are a cheese. Age is strictly a case of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.” Jack Benny.

Lately I’ve given a great deal of thought to getting older. I never had before and truth is I never believed I was or ever could be old.

That was for my grandparents and the elderly.

I wasn’t even aware of the commercials that sell you caregivers on television.

Now when I see one I get a knot in my stomach.

Can it be that I’m old?

Is aging actually something I’m actually dealing with now?

My son acts as though I need to be in a bubble and protect myself from going outside and falling.

My daughter is always saying Mom don’t run after the dog in your socks you’ll fall.

Could I feel any older. Probably not but time will tell.

So did our parents feel this way or is this sudden realization of the laugh-laugh golden years creeping up a product of the last few years?

Since Father Time always gets his way, perhaps I can rationalize this old age thing with the fact that COVID slowed us down.

But didn’t it actually?

I mean we were all going along at a speedy pace, living our lives and then wham bam we’re prisoners in our homes. Afraid to breathe too heavily, spraying our food before we unpack it and hiding from a world fraught with evil germs. Germs with the ability to sneak under our doors and through windows. Oh those pesky viruses.

Perhaps we were naïve to believe it wouldn’t affect us down the line. Or are we just getting old and looking for excuses?

I think not.

The truth is I never felt old until COVID. I felt young and optimistic about checking off items on my bucket list, and skipping into old age with vitality and an eager and excited attitude.

Yet strangly something happened and our lives hit a speed bump.

Our ability to outrun time waned a bit and we came face to face with our own mortality.

YUCK! It wasn’t a pleasant realization.

Suddenly we were all talking about our health.

Making plans like, when COVID is over I’ll get that knee replaced. And sure I’ll take a trip when it’s safe again.

And we all ran screaming from the house when it was. Safe again, at least we thought it was.

But something had happened to us.

Mentally we lost a bit of the spring in our step.

We walked more carefully and weren’t so quick to run headlong into adventures.

We hated being stuck at home and weren’t in any way eager to repeat that experience by being sick or falling.

So many of us became more cautious. Some ran headlong into life once again trying to make up for lost time, but too many felt just a bit hesitant to take chances or risks any longer.

We began treasuring and protecting every day and prioritizing how to to spend it.

I actually have friends who would rather stay at home now than venture out and risk illness.

It’s as if the world lost its appeal. The excitement of living took a hit and we all suddenly came to terms with our limitations. Not so much fun.

Yes, many sought to make up for lost time, but isn’t that actually an oxymoron? We all know deep down you can’t recover time and once its gone well, so long.

I suppose there are two ways of looking at this.

One we must realize that the time we have left at this party is more precious than ever. To waste even a minute would be foolish and now more than ever living must be a priority.

However there are those who have decided perhaps being more cautious is the better way to

simply move forward.

That the series of constant doctor appointments, risks our cities now present and new diseases would be better dealt with carefully.

So when does the fun start up again? Where are the party hats and noise makers?

I mean when you get to the golden years aren’t you supposed to have the time to enjoy life. The freedom to tackle those projects you put on hold while raising a family, working or building a life?

Where are those adventures we see in all the cruise line ads and travel pitches with happy older people running through the capitals and wonders of the world smiling and waving?

Sometimes going to the grocery store, especially with today’s prices, seems like quite an adventure.

I’m sad to say that vulnerability that comes with age seems to have exacerbated with the COVID years and the ability to slough all that downtime off isn’t as easy as task as we believed.

So what can we do to undo the damage?

Is there a way to restore  youthful attitude? An optimistic mindset and skip headlong into life once more?

Perhaps it is possible to recapture some of that zest for living we once possessed. Maybe thinking too long and hard about living life is actually preventing us from doing so.

I imagine just booking a trip, and I understand the state of the world I truly do, would be a great first start to living again.

If there is somewhere you want to see consider visiting it in easier ways. Instead of a foot tour perhaps an ocean or river cruise?

A private tour company might be best.

Maybe there’s a charity gig you’ve always wanted to do. Or friends or relatives you haven’t visited in too long.

What about a tour of that gallery or museum you’ve been wanting to see? Or a symphony or concert you put on hold? I’m not a travel agent but I do know one thing. A trip to the doctor to check on that knee replacement isn’t something you dreamed about when you were thirty.

So no matter how easy it’s been to hold down that position on the couch and watch the new Netflix offering, now more than ever we need to push ourselves to live.

Like Auntie Mame used to say, “Life is a banquet and most poor suckers are starving.”

Maybe it’s time we all grabbed a seat at life’s table and started stuffing ourselves with some great adventures and new exciting memories.

Love to hear where you went when you get home with all the fun stuff to report. And I am really glad your hip replacement is doing its job.

So I Got This Text From my Liver: Stop Sending Me These Damn Pills

In elementary school they offered a class in home economics which taught us the art of loading a dishwasher, how to stuff a date and how to sew a waistband. Okay, so none of these things truly prepared me for life as a whole, but at least they tried.

I feel entitled to bitch because I am so tired of getting a senior discount without even having to ask for it.

Now I’m wondering why no one prepares you for the greatest challenge in life…growing older.

Sure, people write books about how to live forever, how to age gracefully and how to stay healthy, but by the time you need these books you can already write one yourself.

So, what is the secret of learning to grow old gracefully and dealing with all aging entails?

Wrinkles, loss of mobility, forgetting things, wrinkles, loneliness, health issues, did I mention wrinkles cause I forgot, and of course appetite, medical and pain issues.

If one is lucky enough to live into the laugh laugh golden years you are on your own as to how to deal with the constant craziness that inflicts your existence each day.

Men find it impossible to get through a night without a dozen trips to the bathroom, where women can usually get through with only two or three. No one tells you your bladder retires to Boca years before your actual body and you’re left with only the memory of a functioning bladder to get you through the day. And night.

Is there a solution here besides Depends, prostrate surgery and if that’s an option good luck to you?

Your body seems to take on a mind of its own which is a good thing since your mind is usually out to lunch. Now most of the exercise I get is from walking into a room, forgetting what I came for and walking back out. Then two minutes later I remember and walk back in again. Hey, it ain’t Dancing to the Oldies with Richard Simmons, but it is a form of exercise, sort of.

Who ya gonna call when you look in the mirror and see your parents staring back at you? Is that my mother’s ghost or me? Either way it’s scary as hell!

Nothing raises a red flag to signal you’ve crossed into an ancient zipcode than your body telling you it’s time for dinner at 4:30 in the afternoon. 

How many times have you heard your friends say,” I can’t eat any later than six o clock or I’m up all night?”

I had spare ribs for lunch on Sunday and I was still tasting them at Monday night’s dinner. I used to love a great spare rib, now the only rib I can handle is when my grandson’s tease me about getting old.

I also wish someone would tell the truth about reducing inflammation. Can I help my arthritis if I stop eating dairy, meat, drinking wine or liquor, (just when you start to need it most) fried foods, bread, chocolate, sugar and wait a minute what the hell is left? And no, I don’t think you could make an argument that eating only Kale could be considered a quality-of-life diet. 

I just found out I have arthritis in my jaw. Guess we know why that is because if any part of my body is degenerating from overuse it would definitely be my mouth! Isn’t it bad enough that we have to watch our once full and luxurious locks disappear down the drain every time we wash our hair? Now I have to consider eating and talking a luxury.

Or that we have to see the stretch marks once on our hips start drifting downward to our thighs? 

Can someone teach a course in how to see the numbers on your cell phone? Or how to spot a spam call about social security or where to get the strength to get off the couch?

Of course there are older people that have enormous energy and are tech savvy. I have many friends who play pickleball, whatever the hell that is, and some are even still working. 

So what’s the big secret everyone has to write a book to share?

Many say it’s attitude. I suppose an argument could be made that mind over matter is a component, but I’ve known many people with great attitudes who are six feet under right now and didn’t make it to old age.

I guess there is not one magic bullet that can keep us young. In fact, I don’t think there’s a whole gun store full of bullets that can accomplish turning back the clock. And this whole schtick about age brings wisdom is a crock because wisdom is meaningless if you can’t remember it. 

“Yes, grandson so when I was young I used to believe that, but now as I’ve aged I learned…”

“Learned what Grammy?”

“What I just told you. The bit of wisdom I just imparted to you about that thing. You need to remember these gems of wisdom I tell you.”

“What gems?”
“About the thing we were talking about.”

“But you didn’t tell me anything.”
“I just told you what I learned.”

“Okay, Grammy, sure and thanks for sharing your wisdom with me.”

You watch your grandson walk away shaking his head and believing he’ll never get old and forget like you; but we all do, we all do.

Is it possible to exert any control over these “things” that happen to you? To change the direction your mind and body are taking and reverse the trend?

Hell if I know. I think we all make an attempt to do what we believe will help slow the process.

I’m learning a new language because I’ve heard it helps your brain. How can you actually measure if it works or not? If it doesn’t I won’t remember I even learned that language anyway.

I’ve heard exercise helps. Well that’s something I can’t verify since my arthritis has decided the days of running and leaping are far behind me. And yes I realize there are also chair aerobics and low impact choices, but I’ve never pretended to like exercise except for retail cardio and I won’t now. Besides, I count changing my sheets as exercise and I’m not the only one.

So what about eating? Okay moving on here since the thought of living without ice cream or chocolate sends a chill down my spine only equal to the shower scene in Psycho. 

Is it fair that having spent my entire life being too short for my weight I’ve now shrunk and need to lose more weight to keep up?

Is it stress? Hello, it’s stressful getting older. How can you feel calm when every time you pick up the phone or check out Instagram you hear someone else you know has just died?

Is it helpful that they can’t make a hearing aid that creates such a loud buzzing you can’t hear anything? 

Good luck living stress free in the golden years.  One shooting pain in the “good” knee elicits a “damn-not-another-knee-replacement-stress reaction.”

Ah let’s get to the supplements. I have friends that spend about an hour a day just trying to ingest all the pills. Between the prescription drugs you need to stay alive and the vitamins, minerals and strange sounding supplements the average liver is spending all day just trying to sort and send to the proper organs throughout the body, there’s little time for the fun stuff. 

I can hear my liver bitching now…

”Let’s see now, the E is for the heart, the C for immune, D for what was it? How many letters are in the damn alphabet? What the hell is SAM E? Where should I send all this crap? I’m shutting down and going on strike here and no, don’t dare send me any supplements to boost or cleanse me!”

At a time of life where minutes are so precious, I refuse to spend most of my day swallowing pills!

Begs the question; is there a fix for old age? Sure, death. I guess that’s the only way to stop the aging process. As long as we’re here and breathing our bodies are slowing down.

When I was a kid Jack LaLanne was the symbol for exercise and a healthy lifestyle. He died at the age of 96, but so did my mother and she never met a salad or a healthy meal in her life.

The only exercise my mother got was running after my father to yell at him. Actually, that did provide her with a lot of steps every day and she must have worked off a ton of calories screaming.

If there is an answer and I’m not sure there is, we can only do the best we can. Sometimes I’m better than others. Some days my diet is atrocious and some healthy. 

Some days are stress filled and others Zen.

At times I walk a great deal and other days my ass is attached to the sofa cushion.

There are so many variables involved in how one ages I could spend days trying to name them all. 

I still believe it’s a cocktail of genetics, luck, lifestyle, environment and attitude. 

I also believe it’s silly to worry because eventually something’s gonna get you. None of us lives forever, so as long as we make an attempt to enjoy the minutes we have; what the hell, maybe that’s all we can do. If you agree just yell yes! Oh forget it, I probably couldn’t hear you anyway.

What Do You Do When There’s Nothing to Do?

What Do You Do

When There’s Nothing to Do?

“We are always the same age inside…” Gertrude Stein

There are way too many new realities to accept when you are talking about the laugh laugh golden years. One of these is that once you stop working and raising your children life changes.

So what do you do with all the extra time?

Despite claims otherwise ageism is the last and most accepted form of ism in America.

There doesn’t seem to be any downside to businesses or corporations that pass on hiring “older” people. No one would actually ever admit they weren’t hiring you for age reasons, but there are always red flags.

Years ago I interviewed for a newspaper job in Los Angeles with a business newspaper.

The editor was someone I had known and was very familiar with my work.

During the interview he asked, “would you feel out of place working among all young people?”

Hello, red flag warning and surprise of course I didn’t get that job.

I have a friend who is far past the retirement age for teachers. Due to tenure her job is secure and she can work up until the time she can no longer find her way to the school. I have no doubt that even after the state says she can no longer drive she will be Ubering to work every day.

I totally understand because she is absolutely someone who would be lost unless she had somewhere to go every day.  

However not everyone is a teacher with tenure, so what does a person who is perfectly capable of continuing to contribute to society do to keep functioning?

I always think about Iris Apfel who now in her nineties and still running a successful design business.

Let’s face it, it’s easier when you’re in the arts and a creative person to keep rolling on, but of course you needn’t be Picasso to enjoy taking art classes.

I’ve thought about ageing a great deal and have spoken about it many times so obviously it’s bugging me plenty. I guess I get extra whiny on this subject.

Here’s why. When I was a kid in Florida visiting my grandparents, I’d see older people sitting on the porches of the hotels across from the ocean, rocking and talking and I never thought that could happen to me, but maybe deep down I did. And I’m not judging. If someone is happy sitting and relaxing it’s all good.

Yet I must ask…what can you do when you have nothing to do?

If the pandemic taught us anything it’s that one can fill their days and let’s face it we were shoved into our homes to face and fill 24-hours.

Still we all found ways to be productive and even enjoy the down time away from the hustle and bustle of daily life.

Eventually we all figured out ways to POD with our families, work streaming TV and find places from which to order toilet paper.

I’m reminded of how much our lives became reminiscent of when our children were young and a snow or rainy day came along.

As parents we often had to round up our kids and find fun and interesting things to do to fill those hours.

So now suddenly at this age we have become our own parent and we are the kids with nothing to do.

I guess we could bring out the arts and crafts boxes and cut snowflakes.

Paint T-shirts maybe?

After the pandemic I can’t even look at another jigsaw puzzle.

Cooking? Oh right, my cardiologist would be thrilled that I was in the kitchen finding new ways to fill my face.

Exercise? If I hated it when I was young why would I want to do that now?

I have friends who play pickleball and God bless them for it, but my feet start bitching the moment I step out of bed in the morning.

Of course there’s the tried and true older person fall back fun stuff like Bridge, Maj Jong, Canasta and anything that involves sitting at a table and intermittently reaching for the nearby bowl of M&Ms or nuts.

In a new world one would think there are tons of new options available for golden yearers. Is all we can hope for the same old same old and videos of us dancing with our grandchildren on Instagram Reels?

Despite the fact a majority of seniors avail themselves of the new technology playing scrabble online can’t fill a day.

I am fortunate in that I play Roblox, whatever that is, with my grandsons online. I have no idea what I’m doing but as long as it’s with my boys I’m happy.

But what about the rest of the hours in a day?

Can we still find ways to feel relevant and in control?

Time to shift gears to optimistic here.

I say yes.

I truly believe there are more opportunities now than ever before.

I have been able to do things and achieve goals now I couldn’t before because of my age. So from a certain perspective there is definitely an upside to this aging thing.

I needn’t list the enormous variety of options available to fill our days, but a new one is definitely leaf peeping and yes that’s a real thing.

I guess the list is endless actually, but it does take a certain amount of commitment.

It’s great to have a group of friends who will inspire and force you to make plans and join in the fun.

I don’t pretend any ideas are new or revolutionary and haven’t been used for ages. It does seem though that there should be some new ones out there and that’s just it, there doesn’t seem to be any.

The options for filling our days are pretty much set in stone and in this exciting and scary new world, one would like to think there are new places to visit and new adventures to be had.

Space travel which I believed would be an option by now is unavailable, so I don’t think I’ll be joining Flash Gordon on Mars anytime soon.

Like most of us I thought it would be different this whole aging thing, but life is pretty much as expected.

Youth, careers, kids, grandkids, and arthritis.

Nothing much new there.

So is life actually predestined? If we reach a certain age can we hope for nothing more than our parents or grandparents were able to experience? Costco, walks in the mall, various activities and of course constant doctor visits. Even if you’re well.

What did I expect? I thought new and exciting times would exist for us, but nope, pretty much the same.

We do live longer and feel better now than our parents, so being able to fill our days with fun things to do should be easier.

When I look at life it’s pretty obvious we can be as busy or as idle as we choose and it’s up to us to decide.

I don’t know what I was expecting, but when once our problem was how to find any free time now it’s about finding ways to stay busy. Kinda upside down so maybe that’s why I feel discombobulated. I imagine the important take away is it doesn’t matter what we choose to do with our time, as long as we enjoy what we’re doing. But that’s really what it’s all about at any age, isn’t it?

Crunchy Apple Pork Chops in Cream Sauce

6 pork chop tenderloins or chops with bone in can also be used, but cooking time will increase.

2 apples (your choice) peeled, cored and sliced

¼ cup apple cider vinegar

2 cups heavy cream

1 cup flour seasoned with salt and pepper

1 ½ cups panko crumbs

1 ½ cups dried apple chips ground up well

1 tbsp butter

1 tablespoon of oil

Salt and pepper to taste

Season pork slices with salt and pepper and set aside

Put apple chips in the food processer and ground up well, but not too fine. Combine with panko crumbs. 

Melt butter and oil in frying pan and dip pork into flour and pat off excess. Dip chops into beaten egg then into panko/apple mixture.

Add to frying pan and sear until golden brown. Remove from pan and place in oven at 350 degrees until internal temperature of 150 degrees is reached.

Add apples and cider to frying pan and sauté apples until fork tender and then add cream. Heat over low heat until cream reduces by one third. Taste sauce and add salt and pepper if necessary.

Add back pork into frying pan and cover with cream sauce and heat through two more minutes until all is combined and warm.

Serve over any pasta or rice or with a mashed potato.

How a Sorting Hat Could Manage Painful Memories

How a Sorting Hat Could Manage Painful Memories 

The other day a friend was amazed by my memory. She couldn’t get over how I remembered so many things from so many years ago. I realized long ago my mind was merely a clearinghouse for trivia and useless information, but I’ve found a way to appreciate having a sense of recall, although at a much slower pace now. As I like to say my computer takes longer to reboot.

However more and more of late I’ve questioned whether or not a good memory is a positive or negative feature. Is it good to be able to remember so many facts and figures and replay old memories at a moment’s notice? Especially when lately I can’t remember what I walked in the room to get from one second to another?

I think any Harry Potter fan is aware of that magical wonder called the sorting hat. It was used when one enters Hogwarts to determine in which house the student will reside. So if the sorting hat is so smart maybe it can help me with my memories.

When someone reaches the “golden years,” (that phrase always cracks me up) there are certainly far too many memories to recall. Some we try to call upon and others seem to flash into our minds with no warning, like a bird into an airplane engine. With I’m afraid the same unfortunate result.

I need the sorting hat to ensure the unwanted memories don’t slip through the cracks and attack what was otherwise a pleasant day. 

With the help of the sorting hat the remembrances we would not elect to keep could be sent off to a special part of our brain to remain stored away.

Lately I’ve become acquainted with a new term, grief dreams. They are the strange dreams we have after a loss of someone close. I thought I was losing my mind when I awakened every morning thinking what was that about until I learned a close friend who’s recently also lost her sibling was also experiencing them.

We have no control over what we dream so while sleeping and faced with vivid dreams about our loved ones we cannot stop any painful results. Yet when we’re awake I’d hope we’d be able to restrain our thoughts. But as usual when believing I have some power over my life, I was wrong.

Wasn’t it Hamlet who famously said, “for in that sleep of death what dreams may come must give us pause.”

Well I’d like to pause these recollections from invading my space.

Anyone who has ever known me will tell you I’ve always believed humor was a cure for all ills. Now at this age I see how wrong I was. There are some circumstances where a laugh is not up to the task and loss is one of these times. 

Memories have a mind of their own. They must populate a place in our brain where there are no fences or door with locks. This makes them capable of rushing out to play whenever they wish. 

A sorting hat would put a lid on their freedom. A childhood memory of my brother and I with my grandfather could not simply attack me while I’m driving in the car and singing along with my favorite song. Or when I’m in the shower rinsing the shampoo from my hair and suddenly there’s a memory coming at me full force and I’m sobbing instead of making my grocery list.

I believe it’s difficult when one loses your parents and becomes no one’s child any longer. 
Now I have lost the moniker of sister. Yes, I still have one brother, but it doesn’t seem the same. I was a sister to two and now… Why should these labels matter at all actually, especially when we’re older and yet… Does time heal all wounds or is that a fantasy we embrace to pretend the pain will eventually stop?

I know these memories I seem to be castigating are actually a necessary part of our lives and we need them those who are gone nearby. So as painful as it is, I know in the end remembering is a good thing. To recall happy moments is vital even though when a wound is fresh the happy may actually seem painful. 

Friends who have experienced loss say it gets easier with time and eventually thoughts that are now causing pain will bring a smile. I wouldn’t doubt that is true, but right now a sorting hat seems like a very good idea. Perhaps it could choose to let through the ones that might cause the least hurt and save the other memories for when I’m a bit stronger and able to handle them.

Some recollections will always cause a pang of pain.

Whether a cruel remark from a classmate, a break up or even a disappointment the marks of these experiences seem to leave scars. In time we learn to form some type of defense against them, but loss that’s a tough one.

The finality of losing a loved becomes more real as time goes by. And each memory opens the scar again. 

Memories keep someone alive and that’s what we want. It just seems sorrow is a high price to pay.

But would we rather forget? I think not. For in the end we are all well aware of the fact no sorting hat, no forgetfulness can hide the truth…we need to keep the people we love close to us and reminiscences accomplish that. And no hurt or tears could ever be too high a price to pay.

How The Hell Did I Get This Old?

oldladydrinking

How The Hell Did I Get This Old?

If I ever get my hands on Father Time he’ll pay big time for schlepping me kicking and screaming into the so-called Golden Years.

Did you ever notice that life is like a roll of toilet paper? The closer you get to the end the faster it goes. So you’re asking yourself if I’m comparing life to toilet paper, which would be the obvious conclusion and yet you’d be wrong. Life is far more complex than paper and the ability to explain or analyze it as a phenomenon is for wiser minds than mine.

However that said, life isn’t without its moments of perplexing and insufferable crap, but I shall choose the high road and say that as one nears the end of the journey we are left with a conundrum…if we were given the chance for a do over, would we?

So as we face the goldest part of our golden years filled with wisdom, experience and a sheer and flagrant who-gives-a-damn-anymore attitude are we truly prepared to jump back on for another ride on the scariest merry go round of all, youth?

Of course most agree that another shot at life would be counterproductive if we couldn’t do the do over with the information we’ve garnered from this ride, so I’d probably wonder if it were worth making that journey without benefit of what I’ve learned and even a few lifeline calls to a friend along the way.

Not sure I’d want to go through natural childbirth again, but I hope next time around I’d opt for an epidural from their conception until they finish high school.

Ah, but would I, you see that’s the rub, because who’s to say one wouldn’t make even worse decisions than before and find an even more challenging life waiting as we begin again?

And of course what a journey it is and the trite and misguided belief that we’d do things differently given the chance doesn’t hold much water for the simple reason most of us never do when we are given the chance every day.

That’s the catch of course. We wake up each morning more wise and experienced than the day before, at least that’s the theory, and yet most of us cling to the same paradigms and behaviors that have created our lives.

Larry David one of the most gifted and out-there comic minds of my generation took on this topic on Seinfeld in the fifth season. Entitled The Opposite, Jerry proposes the theory to George Costanza, “If every instinct you have is wrong than the opposite would have to be right.”

In simplicity there is genius. Of course when he enacts this new mindset his life changes for the better and all is well for George.

Yet, although this seems like a great solution done in a comic forum, we actually are faced with this choice each day. In the end it can work to a degree, but the problem may be that just doing the opposite is not always an option.

Not every choice in life is black and white, up or down, yes or no. So many of the decisions we make are sideways and complex, requiring so much more than a simplistic way of thinking.

Doing the opposite doesn’t mean choosing one thing over another because it can also pertain to behavior choices.

If you walk down the street with your head down, perhaps you might try lifting it up, saying hello and smiling at passersby. I’m not certain that would change your life, but because someone may have needed your smile that day to make a life changing decision of their own it was a good decision. May even garner you a few positive karma points.

So in the end often what we do doesn’t just affect us alone.

If we have the chance for a do over every day of our lives how many actually embrace the opportunity? Since I can’t find any study done on the issue I’ll surmise not many.

Every experience in our lives is the opportunity for change and growth. A lesson learned either to be embraced or discarded and we make that choice constantly.

The answer to whether or not you’d live your life over isn’t yes or no, it’s have you been doing that already.

I’m a firm believer in instinct. That little feeling or whisper in the pit of your stomach that tells you when something isn’t kosher. Of course so many of us just tell the voice saying, “don’t do it,” to shut up and go blindly ahead only to regret our decision later.

What in the world would ever make us think that simply coming back into the world starting anew would be different, whether or not we had prior knowledge?

I’ve heard people say, “so and so has great instincts.” So begs the question did they actually hone them or were they some sort of cosmic gift to allow them to make better choices. Perhaps it’s a bit of both in the end, but I do believe that it’s never too late to change.

I as many others have made some pretty pretty bad choices in my life and of course we all pay a price. Very few of us escape unscathed from our own bad decisions yet too many continue to act on instincts that have proven unwise in the past.

I needn’t list them because I have neither the time nor enough memory in my computer, but we all have our own little box of bad choices to rummage through.

Since I’m actually so much older than I ever thought possible I’ve decided to use my situation for the best. From now on I’m opposite Norma and I shall indulge myself in a bit of an experiment. When faced with a choice I’ll simply ask what would I usually do and create an option quite out of character. Will it work? Who knows, because in the end I believe some choices are made for us somewhere in some cosmic storehouse that contains the road map for our life. Yes we have free will, or do we? That’s a question neither old Norma nor opposite Norma would even attempt to answer.

So because getting old allows for a what-the-hell attitude toward life, I’m game for most things now. Although there’s tons of new scary stuff out there in this crazy world I have to remind myself it’s no different for any generation.

We are all born into one world and wind up leaving another.

So have fun and try something new or choose not to, your choice.

Getting old has many benefits, not the least of which is not giving a damn what anyone says and doing exactly as you choose. We fear no one and we ain’t afraid of no ghosts.

Just don’t tell your children what you’re up to and have a ball.