Archive for the ‘thoughts’ Category

Part I

My world is on a jagged, roller coaster ride.  Sometimes the path appears to be straight without any impediments along the way and suddenly, under one of the wheels that ships me on my way, a tiny stone throws me off balance.  Peace may follow again for a short bit, but watch out because there is always a quick, jagged turn.  I lunge forward, crash backwards, appear to ricochet and then settle down only to sway to the right or left before balance and quietude return.  During this maelstrom of events, as I gather up myself from the mental bruising of feeling like a boomerang I become even more quiet, or move into repugnant actions, but always become more introverted than ever before and as I draw within me,  solitude is gained through an incontrollable binge on food followed later by discomfort.

As I grow older,  I find I don’t handle these torrential periods as well as I used to and I am particularly not happy to feel the wear and tear on my body and mind.   Wearing out, physically or emotionally,  before I want to, is not to happen.  I vowed years ago that I would never let something get the best of me, but now I begrudgingly admit, I acknowledge it takes too much energy to even try to go on as long as I used too.

Ah, the wonderment of young years.  In my twenties and thirties I could stay up all day and night working or playing and regardless of the action was able to continue on the next days without a bit of problem.   During my late forties I noticed a little change, but certainly nothing to get excited about, but then that terrible number rolled around and life began to change significantly after fifty.  Oh the change wasn’t again the worst thing  I have ever experienced, I only adapted new ways of working or balancing long hours with hours of rest.  When this current decade of age arrived (the one that placed me in my sixties)  I knew that life was going to be different.  Now at sixty-two I can definitely say, particularly when I have much too do, the amount of physical work I can do is far less than in my twenties.  I must also admit that my midriff is a lot larger than it was.  It seems that if it isn’t one thing then it is another.

Fortunately, I pray, my current situation will not last much longer.  Hopefully, once I reach a point of conclusion in my work, my roller coaster ride will change to a gentler Merry Go Round.  Merry Go Round’s are fine.  You can get on easily when something happens and in a short time you can also step off and quickly and easily return to normalcy.  Now should this not be possible, or if my current  tumultuous life continues on longer than it should, then I will need to take a severe measure by taking charge of me–something that is quite difficult to do.  I can try to help others take charge of their lives, but I am not as good at it in my own life, so let’s hope I don’t have to try!!!

Part II

The climb up the hill finally ended the other day.  All that was to be finished was finished, even though my psychological hill was gouged with unforgettable marks recording how often I slipped, stood up, continued and finally achieved what I wanted.

But–yes and it is a big but–not more than 48 hours after the I looked around from the top of my jagged, hill I began to worry if all this wear and tear would do me some harm.  Another day I knew, as I lay in my bed racked with fever, swollen sinus and chills.  The dreaded ills of just a month ago returned to me.  Possibly if I had taken the time to care for me then, today, I may have not been able to enjoy the return of the same symptoms.

As I look back over the past weeks I wonder if I would have done it any different.  Would I learn to stop, rest and go on, or will I continually just plunge, recklessly forward believing my anthem of “It must be done!” is right.  Here I am somewhere near the entrance to my Crepusculum.  I think I am supposed to be wiser, smarter, seasoned as I cross  over to my twilight years.  But the truth is, I am sure I will continue to blunder on my way as I always do without once taking charge to plan.  Ah tis sad to know that the older I get, the more stubborn I get.

Now with aspirin in me to hold down the fever and allow me to write and think I see just how ridiculous this all is.  I am an adult and I should know better, but I don’t.  Tomorrow will not bring a bolt of lightning to change me, but the tomorrow after each of the new tomorrows may lead me down a new trail and change may occur a little bit at a time.  If only I could believe I am sixty-two and not twenty.  If only I could accept I can’t do it all.  If only I can remember that exhaustion leads to areas I don’t want to go to.  If only I would remember that once I have entered my Crepusculum I had better be just a little more in control!!


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Sitting on my patio, looking out over the pool and all the wonderful, Florida vegetation in my half acre of garden, I am prompted to ask what my aging is all about.  Is it in my head, or is there something definitely happening physically to me.  I thnk for some it just is a state of mind they get into, whereas, I have never thought about my age and even now have to tell myself that I am sixty-two.  Then I must remind myself that I am and make a couple physical comparisons to make me remember how old I am.

Twenty years ago I would not have sat in this chair with a pinched nerve, overweight and have my thumbs tingle as I type.  Yep, there are changes I can’t deny in my body.  I can take care of most of what is wrong with me if I lose weight.  So, since I hate exercise and will not go to a gym, but love gardening I do the work here in the garden.  I have grown to particular about how the tree or bush is planted to have someone else do it for me.  What I get in return for doing this is a beautiful garden, done the way I want it, a feeling of tiredness in the bones and especially a pain in my back for shoveling and moving wheel barrow after wheel barrow full of topsoil and then mulch.

I also ask if it is worth the aggravation of pain and exhaustion, when I could hire a gardener.  My  neighbor thinks we must be too poor to hire one and then questions why we live where we do.  Well, it is worth the pain and the exhaustion because as I sit here  looking out over what I did this past week I can nod and know it looks good, it looks the way I want it too and tomorrow it still looks good because of the way I did it.

I wonder why I think this way and I know it is because I do not dwell on age, nor hold onto specific actions that may give me a few aches and pains.  It is all part of life.  Just because I have a pain in my back doesn’t mean to stop and say:  “To much doing for a person your age.”  Particularly I will not say that when I smile and see I have lost seven pounds.  Tomorrow will continue on just as today and yesterday.

Probably there will be a day when I have to face the facts and know it isn’t safe to continue on my course I set for myself and agree it is time to sit in a chair, but I will tell you that day is a long way from now.  In the interim, I cannot deny that I may be very close to the doors of my Crepusculum, but being within Crepusculum does not mean you stop, hang up your towel and sit in the rocking chair.  Crepusculum is and must be a time of thinking, of planning, of enjoying, of doing and always a time of self fulfillment.  It is a time of my life that I don’t mind if I enter.

If aging is anything for me it is a state of the body, but with diligence and determination it can be controlled for a very long time.

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Momma Oval2

Please press the audio button for “Time to Say Goodbye”,

Sarah Brightman and Angelo Bocelli


Within a few short days, the fifteenth of November will arrive, the day that Momma left.  I miss her  today even more than a year ago.  The days since she left have never been the same because there is always an emptiness in me, something that was never felt before.  Momma was my anchor, a guide that stabilized me since I was born.  Now,  I flounder occasionally  and when I do I look up to the place way above, to “Al di La”, where Momma looks down.  It is a place way up over the clouds, where Momma  goes to when she knows her spirit needs to tend my life.  Soon I feel her little hand touching my shoulder and it brings me the comfort she alone can bring.

Her favorite songs are still able to evoke raw grief, sweet memories and heartfelt love for her.  Tears will brim in my eyes and trickle down my cheeks whenever I play “You are my Sunshine” and  when Sarah Brightman sings, “It is time to Say Good-Bye”.  I know everyone wants me to say “good bye” but I never will.

Momma will always live  poignantly alive in my heart.  To think that a soothing balm may help me is ridiculous in reality.  Momma is as special to me as she was during each day I shared with her in my life.   She guided, loved without question and was always there.  On particular times I know she still is there and that nothing has changed.  When I drive, Momma is there in the front seat as always and I hold her little hand.  Recently, on the drive to Florida, there were two times that if she hadn’t been there I would have fallen asleep, yet her spirit was so strong it guided me through that desperate period.  And at night, when sleep doesn’t come, or being upset  becomes overwhelming,  I realize a warm and gentle calmness begins to surround me and I fall a sleep.

My little one remains with me regardless of what skeptics may say.  Grief doesn’t stop, not when the love during a life was so strong, regardless of what the relationship is.  Grief comes and goes at its will and one never knows when something will trigger it to return stronger than ever.  In grief, can come the most wonderful moments in your life.  Momma continues to fulfill my request to her that she always remain “My Sunshine, for all of my days!”

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This post is warmly dedicated to

Shadowlands and Tauna

to each I send much love………

In my own way I am very determined to make my new path so that when I step within my Crepusculum,  I will be able to breathe a sigh and say, “You made It–You made it Your Way!!!”  And when I say that. I want to be able to jump, to wave, to sing, to laugh joyously, to know that at that moment I am happy and that I will continue to make my days happy.  Nor will I feel sad that I have entered that era of my life.  It should and will be a time to rejoice that I am that mature, that I have worked to be happy and that I am ready for what tomorrow brings me.

In this world of gray that I live, the one that will continue to jettison me to my renaissance, is a world that I have to remember there will  only be a few people close to me that say “Its good, you will make it, you follow your heart and do it your way!”  That’s the key of the gray because so many good-willed people forget that each of us, no matter how much we are nudged, can only do it ourselves.  The gray in life isn’t just the overcast sky caused by a dense cloud cover, it is much closer, it is the part of me that is overwhelmed, filled with thoughts and emotions and so thick that it is impossible to sort, sift or dispense with easily.  Then that gray begins to grow even more thickly simply because there is a lack of seratonin in me.  So many things causes the gray.  Each human’s gray is filled with different reasons, although some can be similar.  My gray, for instance,  is filled with ongoing grief, guilt, ambivalence in relationships, some friendships and not being industrious to set a groundwork for a personal legacy.

Months have passed and the majority around me urge me to just get on with it.  Its time you pulled yourself out from where you are, the time has been too long, they say.  Then there are others who wish never to acknowledge that there ever was something that allowed me to slide, slide pitifully into the densest of grays.  Its quite an experience if you have never been there.  You don’t think to well, you don’t care to write, thank god because the words just aren’t in the head.  Most days and hours you are not attentive.  You don’t care about anything even yourself.  Then  sleeplessness walks in, non-stop eating makes itself at home in your head and further withdrawal from sharing continues until it is nearly extinguished.  Yet for me, there remained two remarkable people who never expected more from me than what I was for any particular day.  Never did they coax me to change, yet their contact with me was always supportive in a wonderfully quiet way.  These two rare people know me the best of anyone because I tell them everything and they listen and   let me know they are always there.

Well, now there is a little break in that gray that wraps around me.  Yes I decided that I needed to begin living, but that does not mean that I give up and accept all the reasons for the gray.  I think perhaps what is unique that this little beginning of Renaissance in  life allows me to continue to sift and sort, heal and pamper all the emotions in the gray.  In fact, it gives me new tools to see and to evaluate and to come to terms with myself.  My two special people have unknowingly given me more help than anyone.  It is destiny I believe that brought each of us together.  One is like a sister to me who knows me so well and can tell when something is wrong, who has gone through more grief and pain than anyone should have  to bear and yet has always given  me continual support and prayer.  The other person, simply put has become my Sage, with enough wisdom to set confusing matters straight in a quiet way, yet also is plagued by many physical problems.  I think that is why they both are so special and their words are taken so easily to heart.  Each has their own pain in living but each have always been willing to give support by sharing their own adversity.

And, during this whole time of nothing, of pushing gray to one side only to find it coming back again, I continually thought what my Mother believed in so strongly and that was of Tomorrow.  Now I do think of tomorrow and also have noticed that when I see someone not smiling or not being pleasant I often tell them that smiling makes a big difference in life, smiling is like a ray of golden sun and if you share that ray of sun with others you will find you receive much warmth and understanding in return.

As I write I smile because during all this gray I have begun to grow from within.  There is much more compassion, much more logic than before and possibly if I look hard enough I will see that wisdom has rested with the walls of my heart.  Yes, there still is so much more that I need to do, to work on.  But only in the last few days has this begun to happen.  I know there will be more that I will be able to understand and a fresh willingness to want to explore life.  It will all come in good time and only when I am ready.  But for now I am pleased that I have my little beginning to a Renaissance at it will lead me to the next stage where I can grow just a little more.

To those who are uncomfortable with me and my gray I promise to be more cautious with whom I share my life.   Some people just can’t handle my past and current emotional state.  That’s fine with me–because I do believe that through the gray there will be life.

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So many times,  in the past, I have wondered when I will be at the point to enter Within Crepusculum.  I asked myself,  was there a particular age and conjectured that it certainly was no where near the age that I am.  Unfortunately. I kept thinking about it as a year, a birthday, a definite milestone that I could post on the calender and be ready for it when it arrives.

That is very bad logic to conclude that the beginning of one’s twilight can be targeted with an actual date.  When I think about that assumption, its almost as though I believe you should look at a calender and see your prearranged death date!!

Then, just the other day, I stopped what I was doing and realized I may never know beforehand.  Its just going to happen one day.  I think I will be doing something that I have always done so easily (This has to be a significant task, because if it wasn’t I doubt that I would pay much attention to it) and suddenly, I will realize I can’t do it or I can’t do it anywhere near as well as I did the year before.  If this sort of thing happens all too often, maybe three to four times in a row, then I will take it as some kind of a sign.

Regardless, I am very aware that the years that have currently passed are piling up on my age, but I am determined, like my Mother was, not to be effected by their passage and not accept being older when I don’t feel that much older than I did a decade ago.  We have a friend in Toronto who is four or five years older than me, yet he lives his life already within his twilight.  I don’t think he has a spark of youthfulness about him and I realize he has had some health issues, but that certainly is not reason enough to consign yourself to your twilight years.    The other unfortunate thing is that he does not understand what he has done to himself by responding to life negatively, which in turn allowed himself to be completely engulfed.   It is sad to watch and recognize the crepuscular qualities he has.    Lately he calls to tell us his other friends at home have asked to see him less than they used to do.  In comparison to me, his actions significantly show that I haven’t even neared those years.

For a while, during this time of mourning, I found my self even more than just lethargic.  I had days that I couldn’t think straight.  During those days I had attempted to do some work that any other time I could have done quickly and simply.  This time everything fell apart and it took me longer to plan than it has ever taken me.  Immediately, I kept wondering, “Is this it, is this the way one starts to behave before they take that final step into the twilight??  Fortunately, I came to my senses and accepted that my actions were not signs of entering the dusk of life, but rather it was a symptom of grieving.  It was a hard lesson to learn how to evaluate and now I can easily tell one from the other!!

When I finally realized my error, I came to a conclusion.  First I accepted that I will be having many more scattered days, until more time has passed in my mourning.  And that presently, my thoughts and the mourning I am experiencing are an opportunity for me to continue to grow and understand the world around me.  It becomes a very difficult task for me to explore death and mourning and the beliefs that I have.  To be able to accomplish this, I must see myself going though another whole segment of my life, a part that now I feel is integral to prepare me for the entrance into my crepusculum.

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Now I Know

When I wrote my first poem, I didn’t realize how cathartic they could be.  By the time I wrote the third one I became aware  of how easily I could express my emotions.  Most all the poems I have written deal with the grief that I feel within, but as time continues to move forward I realize they also allow me to understand more of life and to look beyond my own back yard.  The poems merge with the expressions of help in your responses and the combination becomes a salve that within time cause new thoughts that become stronger building blocks for my own wisdom.

The emotions I write about opens my heart and as I look out into a new day I feel a little better and if need be I could be more compassionate to someone else who is hurting and understand when it is time to lock the door and get tough.

Life is a precious commodity and we each have our own discoveries.  When we share them we learn from each other, or give the support that I have been shown through the kindness of your heart.  If I had not had to experience the unknown circumstances of my Mothers passing I would be a little less able to help someone else, but Now I Know

Now I know, Now I know what it is
that before I could never understand.

Now I know what that time is like
and understand what has been known forever.

How many times did I wonder, worry and fret over what I didn’t know.
Did I guess at any time the full extent of what it would really be like?

Oh no, never in my wildest imagination could I know,
Could I have known pain as I know now,
could I feel loneliness that wraps my throat and chokes me from the air.

Would I have thought the days and the nights become one,
would I guess how little I  would not understand once it happened.

And could I ever have know what it is like to have panic hitting the heart,
or know that, possibly one tear can turn a person toward uncontrollable agony.

Would I have ever guessed what this time is like,
or would I have thought that there was no need, if I was prepared.
Can you ever guess right about being  prepared correctly?
Ah, yes if you go to a luncheon you will have been given the time and the place.

This day and future days come regardless of any preparation…..
your memories  sting and gouge and make new thoughts to surprise and cause you pain.

They lap at your tears and delight  in making you distraught.
It is a day without caring for you and the days to follow, well there is an unknown plan for them.

Then without expectation there comes a day–

with first light I look out of the window, then into the room and for the first time I understand.

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If wrinkles must be written upon our brows, let them not be written upon the heart.
The spirit should never grow old.
–James A. Garfield

Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.
— Mark Twain

Age does not diminish the extreme disappointment of having a scoop of ice cream fall from the cone.
— Jim Fiebig

When does that time come to you.  Are you one of those that, when you are sixty, you will call yourself old?  If you do, I wonder why, although I have known a number of people who,  at a tad younger age than me,  say they are old at sixty.  I also have a mid-fifty year old, very close friend, who says she is already old and has been that way for a number of years.

I wonder why and how that time of oldness has stepped in for them, but didn’t happen to me.  When the people in my own family were sixty, they may have had medical difficulties, but it was never a gauge for their age.   Even though they had a major ache or two they kept going because they knew if they acted old,  old age would creep in and wrap up in their bedroom slippers and wait for them to slip them on.  Then in a short time you become old.

Sometimes, or maybe most of the time this “old” phenomenon creeps in because there is little life left  in the heart,  not much stamina  in the stride and  little curiosity in the mind.  I can’t imagine not having any of those qualities.   Presently, I may be on a little detour, but even during this hiatus of grief and during the years of my care giving, I still knew the importance of protecting the “feel good” attributes of the human psyche and body.  I always want to know what is current and I always knew the quest for life was still alive in my heart….To this day I sing, smile, laugh and cry each day.  I respond to life as it changes minute by minute and I need to give credit to my Mother for making sure I  always had a positive attitude, nevertheless, during my years to get where I am  now I  lost track of the joy of tomorrow and the need for hope, but thankfully I am beginning to see the joy of anticipating tomorrow and the buds of hope are beginning to return.

Instead of feeling old, I often have the opposite problem.   I forget I am aging because I still have my youthful, even childish thoughts inside.   A few days ago I found out an acquaintance had a passion for roller coasters.  Oh, it brought back memories of my fervent entreaty to ride every roller coaster in the  world and then facing the fact that most of the fun of roller coasting is to go with someone,   I never had anyone who was willing to share in my delightful quest and so whenever I was near one I went on alone.  Even today, if someone was willing to take a ride with me,  at sixty-plus years,  I would act like a child getting into the seat first and scream my head off as we reached each turn and dip.  Oh what a wonderful feeling in your tummy!!

Since I am always curious about everything I posed a question in a group I belong to on Eons, the baby boomer cyber site I have written about.  All the responses were emphatic that “Oldness” is a state of mind; although the response from the manager of the group ,  was the best of all:

“I am not OLD! I am more mature in my thinking and behavior.  I have a lot of knowledge and wisdom. I am at the perfect age not to give a damn what others think of me.  I am beautiful, special, sensual, intelligent, sweet, loving and giving, wise beyond my earlier years, but I am not ‘old’!   And for those who feel they are  old at sixty, then get ready to stand at the orifice of the grave;  please go right ahead.  I give YOU my blessing. Old is when you give up on life and living it without gusto. I am not old. Old is when you forget what it feels like to love and be loved. I am not old. Old is a state of mind. If your mind is old then so is your body and believe me you will bear the ravages of time on your body if you think you are old. I AM NOT OLD!”
photo of ladywrite2

If you are near the age that we speak of, please think about what you are saying, if you consider yourself old.  Probably there are many years left in your life to live.  Read the quote once more from ladywrite2 and if you really feel you are old then have you also have given up the goodness of life that she refers to—-I hope not!!

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