There Is a Season...

  

 

       It's no secret I'm over 70 years old. I was over 70 when I started blogging. My sister once told me, "After 70 anything can happen!" And she's right, shit happens - to yourself, to your husband, to your family members, to your friends. I'm talking about stuff like disease, broken bones, arthritis, conditions associated with aging like memory loss and diminished physical capacity, loss of independence, even death. People have said to me, "Mary Lynn, you've been going through so much, and you're learning so much, why don't you write about it? What you have to say could be helpful to other seniors."

Well, maybe so, but my own experience is too personal; emotions are too close to the surface; sometimes I'm overwhelmed, stressed out. Throughout my life I've alway put my feelings on paper, releasing stress, anger, frustration. But I've kept these writings to my self, never published, never really shown to anybody, the simple act of writing releasing the tension I'm feeling at the time. So I can't blog about aging right now. I don't feel that I have the right to share anyone else's story either. But I will say this, life can turn on a dime.

 

Nearly 50 years ago my husband and I made a huge decision. We changed countries. We left the USA and became Canadian citizens. We have never regretted this decision; we love it here - the country, the people, the politics (not perfect but vastly better). But now we are feeling an effect of this move that never occurred to us when we youngsters in our 20's, one that our parents no doubt experienced as well when we chose to move 1500 miles away. When family needs us, when we need them, we are not only dreadfully far away, we are in a different county! The border to our south is not a meaningless line. It's difficult and costly to cross those miles, there's no way you can lend much assistance, health care there is no good here. I can easily empathize with immigrants from overseas, the hurdles they must jump, the hurdles they cannot get over. 

No one looks ahead to circumstances like these. Young people never see themselves as old people. Hell, old people pretty much refuse to see themselves as old people! And old sneaks up, comes at different times for different folks. Old is largely dependant upon health - physical and/or mental. If both or either of these factors come into play you become old, even if you're only fifty.

There's a gnawing worrisome feeling, after the age of 60 or so,  that surfaces every time you forget to turn off the stove, walk into a room and can't remember why you went there, open a cupboard when you needed to open the fridge, when your knee lets go and you nearly fall or your hip hurts, when you have aches that cling for days. Is this it, you wonder, the beginning? If you cared for aging parents and watched their slow decline you know that some day... well some day you too will be old, perhaps dependant, and you know you don't want to be. You really don't want anyone you love to become old. I've often heard it said, "It takes courage to grow old" Yep.

 

 

        I've been a bit slow to blog for awhile. I feel pretty good, am happy, embracing spring - absolutely loving to be outside once I've protected my bare parts from clouds of mosquitoes (a result, I suppose, of all that moisture we've had). Our bees are happily buzzing in our crab apple tree, lilacs are blooming, dandelions everywhere. We love dandelions now because they are one of the most bountiful nectar providers for bees in early spring. Goodness, for awhile we were concerned because we saw billions of yellow heads in open fields all around us and we had none! I would never have thought a field of dandelions could bring such a smile to my face. My garden is planted, waiting for a promised rain to get it going. And yes, I feel that rain-a-coming in my bones.