Geriatric Thoughts

What are you doing today?  It’s my day to enjoy a retrospective of many Christmases with the kids.  The earliest memory was the time when I was pregnant and Leo surprised me with every type of maternity clothing anyone could want.  I protested that he had spent so much money on me, but my mother wisely told me to hush.  She got that he was so thrilled we were having a baby that all restraint was lost.  There was the time Leo and I were up late putting together all the toys Santa would bring in a few hours or even better, the Christmas morning we sat with glue and extra batteries ready to repair all the toys that broke or stopped playing within a few hours of play.

There was the Christmas day we spent draping Cliff in tepid towels trying to break his 104 degree fever only to take him to the emergency room at 11:00 pm after a fight with the pediatrician who was positive that we weren’t doing what he told us.  We had been for about twelve hours and I was in no mood for his all too patient instructions on how to correctly handle this obviously easy task.  It turned out that Cliff had a blood infection and the doctor was totally apologetic.  Cliff got the best of care that visit.

There was also the year that due to whatever happened we were unable to get any shopping done and it was nearly Christmas.  We hired a babysitter for the boys on Christmas Eve and went to the local Woolco in Woodbridge, VA where they were having a clearance on everything.  We had no list since there was little hope that the boys would get anything they asked for and they were so little they wanted everything.   We shopped and had a great time just being two young marrieds out for the day.  My husband and I got time with each other, the uncrowded store still had lots of good stuff, and the kids had a great Christmas.

When the boys were on their own and Alicia had just started driving, we had a totally practical Christmas.  The boys got huge boxes of Tide, socks, underwear, towels, and all the little things they would need for the coming year.  Alicia got a safety kit for her car with flares, flags and all sorts of necessities among other things.  At first, their dismay showed, but then they got into the spirit of the thing and started realizing the enormity of their gifts.  I still remember Nick mourning a misplaced washcloth.

The year I had cancer surgery and chemo I was in no shape to shop and Leo who had had radiation and chemo wasn’t in any better shape.  The question was how were we going to have Christmas for the family.  That year I went through the Eddie Bauer catalogue and figured out what would suit Leo, the kids, and myself making a list that was more than a page long.  I called the order in and ever since then Eddie Bauer has loved me.  I was their favorite customer that year.  Everyone except Alicia loved their gifts; she returned all of her gifts receiving money back and did her own shopping.  Still, it was a fun way to handle a tough situation.

There was the time I worked at Belk and the majority of gifts came from there since I could use my employee discount.  I remember walking around with huge bags dragging my arms down.  In fact, I still have a sweater from that Christmas which I always wear around Christmas since it’s green with a little red and white mixed in.  There was the year that Leo traveled 26 weeks out of the year and never once did I complain or whine.  It didn’t really register with me how important that was to him until he presented me with a wedding band with five diamonds.  I had been looking for about two years and couldn’t find anything I liked.  On our anniversary, December 24th, he gave me a dozen red roses and tucked in one rose was the ring.  I was dazzled by it and the thought behind it.  I still wear that ring; it’s my most precious possession.

So, it really doesn’t matter the situation, money, or gift that makes Christmas.  It is the time given to ensure that the family is together and loved and honored.  Merry Christmas to all and a Happy New Year.

It was Saturday night and I really wanted to watch a movie.  Unfortunately, the Christmas holidays were upon us and networks were throwing up a bunch of stuff and whatever stuck to the board was aired.  That’s how I ended up watching “Country Strong”  which after seeing trailers hadn’t piqued any interest.  Admittedly, I am not a huge fan of country music fan, but I do have a few favorites here and there.  Plus, the idea of Gwenyth Paltrow playing a country singer wasn’t exactly my idea of great casting.

Mea culpa, mea culpa, Miss Paltrow, I was wrong.   You know an actor is giving a good performance when they lose themselves and become the character they are playing.  She not only became the character but drew me in until I actually cared about this woman and her problems.  What starts out as a drinking, living hard story became an in-depth look at the main character, Kelly Canter, and her struggles with alcoholism.

It provokes one to think about how the hardest times in our life often rule us thereafter.  Once, I knew a woman whose life revolved around the time when their home was flooded.  She referred to it often when making a point on some issue and seemingly relived that time over and over.  Bad things do happen and they do happen to all of us.  We who endure must continue living and seek growth leaving the past where it belongs.

That’s easy for me to say or write, but how does it work?  Forgiveness seems to be the key that unlocks all those emotions stored from “rainy” days.  Forgive and forget, so trite this oft-repeated phrase, but to actually do it requires an almost superhuman strength.  Forgiving someone or yourself requires an open heart that can say, “this happened and I won’t let it rule my life again.  It is over, behind me and I will take back the control over my life.”

Beyond that, forgiving others is so much easier than forgiving ourselves.  We seem to be able to excuse others while still holding ourselves accountable.  There is no fairness in such a position, but that is the reality.  Maybe Christmas is the time to package up those affronts to our lives, put a pretty bow on them, and burn them to ashes.  New life can and will grow from the ashes and we will be the better for it.

We don’t ordinarily think about our various body parts unless something happens that accentuates it.  Nothing is worse than an earache unless your back hurts which is surpassed only by tendonitis or anything else that happens to hurt.  Prior to having the surgery on my nose to remove basal cell carcinoma, I really hadn’t given my nose much thought.  It was big but not horrendously so just a normal nose.

I didn’t worry about the surgery except that it drives me crazy to have someone near my face.  When my doctor was looking at that doomed spot originally, it took all my effort not to sucker punch him.  I behaved.  While the surgery was going on the doctor kept telling me to close my eyes; however, when I did, the fear blossomed into a giant, overwhelming substance prompting me to reopen them.  Finally, the doctor explained that something could fly into my eye and damage it.  With that scary warning, they stayed closed.

After the first cut was completed, the Ipod on my phone serenaded me through the relief.  Since I had to stay in the room and wait until the biopsy was complete, I updated my children by texting info out to them saying that all was well and I was waiting for the biopsy results while listening to my favorite tunes each of which evoked some memory.  The results came back that I needed further cutting so back to work the doctor went.  He, the nurse, and I chatted about the music and enjoyed, at least I did, the variety of music playing.

Soon, it was over and I went back out to my son and we headed home.  My nose was still numb but total relief flooded me.  It was over, done, finished.  The nose was sensitive for about a week throbbing every time I bent over.  It was tender to the touch, even my pillow, for the first 24 hours or so, but after that was fine.  There is nothing to fear.  My nose looks fine and the flap procedure erased a couple of wrinkles.  The worst part was the band-aid adhesive that itched so much I stopped wearing them.  If you are ever diagnosed with basal cell, never fear just get it taken care of.  There are a lot worse things that could happen.

This past July, I started a part-time job with the local paper with little idea of what I wanted to do, but knew that writing for a newspaper would hone and improve my writing abilities.  The other benefit was getting out of the house and meeting the people of this community.  My hermit capabilities are legendary and the tendency to enjoy that alone time is limitless.  If there is one thing I know, it is that alone time is fine, but too much of it is not.

Adapting to working again proved to be more challenging than I had originally thought and, at times, it was almost overwhelming.  During one dilemma, I had to make up my mind as to whether or not to continue.  It finally occurred to me that the times that were trying would pass and I would want my job once more.  I made a deal with myself to stay for a year and decide then.  Right now, I’m not sure if I would ever quit.  This one little job has presented a golden opportunity to meet some wonderful people all of whom I call friends now.

First, it was a lady who suffered through many of the same life traumas as me and managed to teach multiple handicapped deaf children.  The next were a father and son team who race on the local dirt track.  They were charming, fun and totally interesting.  Another was a husband/wife team who took on a 105 year old house that had once been the local grocery store.  She had filled it literally thousands of antiques and just plain old stuff.  My eyes couldn’t see fast enough all the stuff she had acquired over her lifetime.  For her Christmas Open House, she decorated 34 trees, baked enough cookies, brownies, and other goodies, completed other decor, and could still stand there welcoming people into the home she is so proud of.  They would have to hospitalize me for a month if I did all that.

This week it was a bell ringer and the head of the local Salvation Army office.  I heard so many stories of how blessed all they and the fellow volunteers and employees are to be doing what they do.  The Lieutenant was a young man still in his twenties who not only ran the office but also is the pastor.  He is so impressive seeing his youth as a disadvantage when the reality shows that it isn’t.  He has a heart bigger than anyone and deals with the despair and need with the enthusiasm of youth.

I had a mental list of questions for the bell-ringer most made from preconceived ideas.  Turns out she is from Florida and a Katrina survivor.  She lost everything except for a few things gathered in the few minutes alloted before she had to leave her house for a shelter.  She is very together and making a new life, one that is not filled with material things, but rather the peace and joy of surviving and doing as she chooses.

These people have all made a mark on my heart and life reminding me that we all struggle, all of us have painful, major losses, and that resiliency is the armor for facing life.  Each of them and all the others gave me the gift of opening their lives and allowing me to share it with others.  The richness of this gift received warms and humbles me.  Learning about them teaches me about the good that exists in all of us not just at Christmas, but all year round.

Now, there’s a surprise for you.  The Supercommittee failed to come to agreement on budget cuts to get control of and start lowering our national debt.  How many Congressmen and women does it take to change a light bulb?  Apparently, all of them.  Even better, how long does the process take?  They have to vote on which light bulb to purchase and decide on the price.  Then, they buy them by the gross spending millions of dollars now to save in the future.  Then, they had to purchase a ladder which cost about $120,000.00 due to OSHA and Homeland Security regulations.

Next, the decision about who should climb the ladder brought about a lot of dissention  ending with a filibuster which is still in progress.  The orators used the usual bombastic, fist pounding method building up the man they back while demeaning the opponent’s method of climbing throwing in hints about a perverted sexual lifestyle which is even now making large headlines and stories filled with innuendo and speculation with just enough truth to make the unproven portions possible are repeatedly played out on television and in the newspapers.

Meanwhile, the orators are reduced to using flashlights to see their written speeches because more light bulbs have burned out since this all started.  Their aides are standing nearby with prompts at the ready should their eyes fail them.  The aides also have purified water and snacks of cheese, caviar, crackers, lox, and all the accompanying needs to meet their physical needs.  For such lofty orators, a sandwich just isn’t good enough.  Surprisingly, a group of five Senators and 10 Congressmen missed a junket to Dubai to discuss Mid-East affairs as it relates to the economy of Sri Lanka and the United States.  It’s obvious these men take their duties to their constituents seriously.

There is now talk of shutting down the government since the light situation is not yet resolved and more lights have burned out.  The huge ladder is standing in the middle of the room blocking the view of those two citizens who come daily to watch the workings of their government.  A group of schoolchildren touring this high office was turned away since there could possibly be repercussions for allowing small children near such a dangerous apparatus.

Finally, a particularly bright aide remembered that the Congress has a maintenance staff to fulfill their every wish and with one call had them scurrying over to replace the burnt out bulbs.  With the problem resolved, all the Senators and Congressmen patted each other on the back to have resolved the matter in such a satisfactory manner.  They can’t even agree on changing a light bulb.  It is beyond me why we thought they could do anything as practical as cutting the budget.  Afterall, we might not like, fund, or reelect them if they cut our favorite program.  This is what we have come to today.

It was a text from my son that took me back to the late 1960′s.  I was a sassy, young Marine First Lieutenant stationed at the San Diego USMC Recruit Depot.  We had a lot of official functions that had mandatory attendance. At one particular event, it happened that Joe Rosenthal was also there.  We all knew who he was, never a Marine, he was accepted as one of us because he took the iconic picture of the United States flag being raised by Marines after they took Iwo Jima during World War II. His photo was awarded the Pulitzer Prize in 1945 and used to depict Marines for the Marine Memorial in Washington, D.C., commonly known at the Iwo Jima statue.

Joe’s fortune was made in those few minutes with that one picture.  It captured the attention of the nation and was reproduced in newspapers and on the covers of magazines.  Taken on February 23, 1945, the photo gave hope where there was very little.  D Day, or the Normandy invasion occurred on June 6, 1944, but the war continued under enormous disadvantages for our soldiers.  There was no mainstream knowledge of the horrific “Jewish solution” nor did any relief from the horrors of war seem imminent.  We of the United States were losing the cream of our youth in a steady, unrelenting manner.

On December 7, 1941, seventy years ago today, the Japanese surprised the United States by attacking Hawaii wanting to create havoc for our Naval forces in the Pacific.  Instead, the Imperial Navy of Japan created a furor which impelled our reluctant country into the throes of the war not only in the Pacific but also in Europe.  The movie “Tora, Tora, Tora” about the Hawaii attack said it best when General Isokoru Yamamoto was attributed with saying, “I fear we have awakened a sleeping giant.”

So, it was in February, 1945, Joe Rosenthal, an Associated Press reporter/photographer denied entry in the service due to poor eyesight, was embedded with the Marines who battled the Japanese in ferocious fighting to take a small, insignificant island in the Pacific.  When the battle was won, those Marines raised our flag to proclaim their victory and the photo of their dedicated response to victory was snapped.

It was only a few months before the Allied Forces finally defeated the Axis forces in Europe who surrendered in May of 1945 and following the nuclear bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the Japanese formally surrendered on September 2, 1945.  There was no more war, but the aftereffects and rebuilding in Europe and Japan as well as all Allied countries took decades.

It was a privilege to visit Hiroshima’s Peace Park when I visited Japan while serving on Okinawa.  It was a sobering reminder of the inhumanity created by war.  The bombings brought about the end of the war in the Pacific and, ironically, while taking so many lives probably saved many more.  Nearly all of the World War I veterans have passed now and daily we lose more of the World War II veterans.  When I look at the  signed Iwo Jima photo that Joe gave me, I realize that we must remember, we must tell our children, we must work to ensure that it never happens again.

At times, following a path established for you is better than following the one which you really want.  My daughter had a vital need to visit with her grandmother whom she hadn’t seen since 2005.  I respected her need enough to agree to go with her, but in my heart of hearts knew that I would be worn out from Thanksgiving.  Alicia is not a person to be denied when she makes up her mind to do something.  So it was that I piled in the car with a heavy sigh this past Thursday for a trip to visit with the in-laws, aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandma.

Let it be said here and now that I luckily married into a wonderful, dynamic family.  My husband was the oldest of nine children including a set of twins; in my family, I was the one and only after the loss of my brother.  It was and still is often overwhelming to be part of such a family after growing up in a small family of four.  Life for large families is  different from that of a smaller family.  Food is always huge and plentiful, clothes are often passed down and around until good only for rags.  My mother-in-law, Pat, is an accomplished seamstress and often made clothes for her brood since my father-in-law, Leo, was in the early years a lower level US Air Force officer.  But then, Pat could do anything that needed doing all while taking care of their children due to Leo flying so much.  She never really appreciated that she had so many talents either from birth or learned by doing it repeatedly.

Just raising nine children all of whom became accomplished, responsible adults speaks of her abilities.  Like any other family they’ve had their problems, but not only survived them, but also thrived after the issue was resolved.  The only thing I haven’t figured out yet is not how she dealt with nine children, but with nine such diverse personalities.  She managed the household by never sitting down from dawn to dusk.  When almost all the kids were teens, Pat was a Colonel’s wife with all the attendant duties which she managed to complete with her usual adroit manner.  Like my mother, Pat could teach me very little since I was  and still am a lefty.  I did everything backwards according to their world and correctly according to mine.

Leo, my father-in-law, was a personable, loving man who did a wonderful job for the Air Force serving in the Korean War and Vietnam as a pilot flying sorties to South America during peacetime.  Ever self-effacing, he never discussed his professional accomplishments;  what I know was learned from the family and/or photos or certificates.  He provided for his family, loved them and took great pride in his children although like so many of his generation had no way of expressing it to them.  He was known by all of us, some 50 people when the family was altogether, for his wicked sense of humor, Brandy Alexanders at Christmas time, and his cigars.

Leo died in 1996 of cancer caused by exposure to agent Orange during Vietnam.  The children and their spouses rallied around Pat holding her up during the stressful time.  In her well-earned retirement, Pat stays busy making blankets which the family then donates to a children’s hospital and other needy causes.  I wish there were words to tell her what she means to me for all the support over nearly 30 years of my marriage.  She called everyone precious rather than by name, but truly she is the one we should call precious.  Her worth has value that monetary means could never match.

There are times, I must admit, that I think the technology of today has a mind of its own and can know what I want.  It throws me back to the time when all the fad was to tell someone who was irritating you, “Talk to the hand.”  I always hated that thinking that it was rude and close to abusive.  Happily, it fell off the radar before too long.  However, now I think of that each time I’m trying to tell my television what to do next.

For years the television sat near to the box that controls my television so when wanting to make a change, be it volume or channel, the remote was just pointed in the direction of the TV and it would do as I asked.  Now, things have changed.  The television is above the fireplace and the box is on a table nearer to the floor.  My pointing skills have to be rewired now.  The only thing that changes is the volume when I point at the television.  The remote has to be pointed at the box if I want to change channels or see the guide.

Many times I have pointed at the television to change channels and pressed the button over and over with no results.  It’s then that I finally remember to point correctly to get the results desired.  But no problem.  My daughter has the new iPhone and while showing her brother, Leo Clifford, how Siri works.  She said, “Siri, call Cliff”  Siri did nothing since her brother was input as Leo.  Alicia had to tell Siri to recognize Cliff as Leo.

It seems the mechanical mind isn’t as flexible as we are yet.  The convenience is nice, but it needs some improvement for us to get to the point where robots can respond with special instructions.  The next mechanical thing I get should at least be able to take the dogs outside for a visit.  My daughter can do that now no problem.

After flying through three-time zones, my daughter, Alicia, arrived here for Thanksgiving thanks to a two stop, fourteen hour flight.  Even she would admit to being a little ragged when she got here.  I admit to almost knocking a man down who happened to be between us when she came through the revolving door.  After a sub and a slow ride home with lots of excited talking on both our parts, she began to slow down some but I kept her awake until East Coast bedtime to try to help her get over the jet lag.

Cliff, his family and in-laws literally came up the mountains, around and through them.  He drove through a rain storm on two lane roads in pitch dark “up hill all the way” to finally arrive at the exact time he predicted.  My daughter-in-law climbed out with that deer-in-the-headlights look of all Moms who have kept an eighteen month old and a five-year old entertained for all those hours.  Of all my family, she really deserves a medal since there was nary a complaint just lots of smiles and hugs.  And so it all began.

Can we just stop here and talk about my dogs?  They are acclimated to a quiet home with little movement occasionally going out or wandering to another room.  They sleep, eat, and thoroughly enjoy their life.  Having the contractor’s crew in the house totally upset them and with little rest here comes Alicia who is constantly in motion followed by Cliff and his crew.  Honestly, I didn’t know that two dogs could be so terrorized by two little kids who are really good children.  The grands loved that they could run a circle around the inside of my house.  Before too many laps were finished, the dogs decided that they were being chased.

By day two, the dogs were terrorized and really there wasn’t any reason for it.  Hannah started hiding behind furniture or in her kennel and Hancock who can never resist being nosy alternated between hiding in the kennel or running away from kids who weren’t chasing him.  Last night, he huddled pitifully next to my feet begging for mercy so I picked him up and held him in my lap.  But the best part was when Hancock fell into lust with baby girl’s new teddy bear.

It is a handsome bear, but it was embarrassing how much Hancock wanted to snuggle with that bear.  He loves his toys and always keeps one close by;  when stressed, he picks one up and holds on to it in a near death grip.  So, a couple of them have new teeth marks right now.  When things settle down, that dog is getting his own teddy bear.  After all, love cannot be denied.

It was one of the best Thanksgivings ever and I’ve been lucky enough to have some good ones.  I’m not sure if it was the fact that I had folks near my age to talk to as well as the adult kids or if it was just the good-natured fun that reigned.  There’s nothing like noshing with three tired, giggly females butt to butt in a kitchen.  It’s been too long since I’ve done that.  And there’s nothing like your grandchildren in your house to bring the joy and life that makes a house a home.  Y’all come back now, ya heah.

Believe it or not, ready or not, the holiday seasons is upon us.  Finally, my remodeling venture is finished and furniture is once again in all the rooms where it belongs.  There are only a few paintings left to hang and we can call this experiment finished.  It isn’t a moment too soon either.  All the beds are freshly made and clean towels are hung and most of the housecleaning is done.  Only the kitchen is left and there’s too much to do in there to even think about mopping the floor.

You see before too long this house will be full and the fun will begin.  Alicia arrives today with Cliff, his family and in-laws arriving in about 48 hours.  Including myself, there will eight of us here for Thanksgiving.  I haven’t had that many people at my house since Alicia got married and that was almost seven years ago.  I am out of practice, but I am a planner extraordinare.  What I am not is good at following the plan that is laid out, but I am good about catching up on all the stuff that didn’t get done.  It all evens out and it all gets done.

The menu looks good, at least on paper, it does.  Lots of veggies and, of course, the star of the show, the turkey will cover the table.  Desserts will be plentiful and it’s easy to predict a lot of full tummies.  Football and televised parades will be the order of the day along with the meal.  A slow, relaxing day is the goal; reality may turn out to be a little different.  To me, Thanksgiving isn’t all about the food, but rather the camraderie with family and friends.

For you all, I wish a warm, family centered day that can be feasted on for days leaving lingering memories that will last a long time.  Take the opportunity to reconnect with your family and take the pictures to dwell on for years to come.  Enjoy it all and live to tell the next generation about it years from now.  Remember the next day is Black Friday and the shopping frenzy for Christmas will begin.  Ho, ho, ho.