Where have we been all this time? Childhood is blurred. The years of adulthood raced by. We were pushed on by demands of life, by busy-ness, busy-ness, busy-ness. Choices were often made for us by realities of life. Each path ran into the next. It was like the proverbial snowball which grew and grew and grew just by rolling down the hill.
Where are we? What’s ahead? Are we on the right path? Do we have options? We’ll find out.
I decided to go on a search, (not far away but nearby) to find the gold that’s supposed to be in these Golden Years. I’ll travel within my life at home, and right around town as part of the Senior Scene.
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I see that retirement from work starts slowly. It’s a process beginning long before it happens. We talk, talk, talk about it, like testing the waters with one toe! Plan the date. Postpone it. Plan another. Still postpone it. I myself did this. Set so many dates, then changed them, that my employer was ready to fire me to get it all over with once and for all!
We fear that losing our occupation means losing us! It doesn’t! We aren’t retiring from being us, not going backwards, but forwards. Life’s not over. We’re not over.
It hurts though that another will be taking our place - a place we made to fit ourselves. A place that belonged, somewhat, to us. How do we feel about handing it over to someone else? To a younger someone else?
Though some can hardly wait for retirement, and are happy to be free, to others it is a loss, a loss that needs to be felt and grieve.
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Finally called the Senior Center for transportation. (See, I admitted that I needed help.) All the others looked so elderly but I knew I fitted in.
I took my seat on the van. As we drove off I realized I was going further than the store. Starting a journey of dependency. How long? With whom? Where? How?
I sensed I was no longer in charge of some circumstances.
I also knew I will always be in charge of my attitude.
Looking out the window I watched people. Walking, driving, hurrying, going wherever, however, they wanted. Did they know how blessed they were?
I wiped away a tear. Then smiled “hello” to other passengers who quickly smiled right back. They understood. They knew the route. I was not alone and need not ever be.
Of course it hurt. The pain was lessened as I realized I was taking the higher route of acceptance. Traveling with friend.
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The child and I went shopping. Someone came up all excited. “Imagine seeing you” she said. “Imagine seeing you” I answered happily. (And I meant the “imagining” part.) “You’re looking wonderful” she said. “So are you” I remarked. “How’s the family?” “Great! How’s yours?” “It’s been such a long time.” “I know” I agreed, guessing “how” long. “We must get together.” “Yes, we must.” (I wondered “where.”) “Say hello to everyone” she added. “You too” I beamed.
She said goodbye to us. “Who was that?” the child asked. “I don’t have a clue” I admitted.
“You could’ve fooled me!” He was puzzled.
“So why didn’t you ask her?” The child raised his eyebrows. (He did that a lot.)
I was honest and said “I didn’t want to admit that I forgot her name. I was afraid she’d think less of me.” The child cheered me up by exclaiming, “Maybe she didn’t know your name, either!”
It’s a problem for us to “remember” names. We pretend and avoid or play word charades. It would be best, I think, to just admit not knowing. We have plenty of company. Let’s get over our fear of others’ opinions. We’ll gain a better opinion of ourselves, just as we are.
That’s much more important.
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Do you know what that newest specialist asked me? “Who’s the President?” I felt like saying “Lincoln” but didn’t dare take chances. As I left the office I could not resist asking how the quantum theory relates to medicine. (He didn’t answer and acted very busy.)
I don’t think he’ll ask again, but if he does I’ll name the last ten Presidents and who the next should be! Maybe, if I dare I’ll ask the date of his wedding anniversary and wife’s birthday.
I’ll leave her age alone. Chances are I’ll still need specialists for many, many years. By then, I may well answer “Lincoln” and maybe I’ll believe it!...
Now, a Nursing Home! I’m not a visitor! Will I get lost within the system? How will I pay? Who’s in charge? Will I get out? Alive? How long will the money last? How long will the system last? I have one bureau, one closet, one table, one window, all in a half of a room. Gave me a roommate! Didn’t ask either of us.
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We’re each one of a kind. No fingerprints are just like ours, no heart prints either. Our very being is unique. (It was planned and designed that way.) Our gifts are also unique. We can’t measure or weigh or evaluate them. There’s no yardstick, no scale available to compare them with another’s. They are ours and ours alone.
Fingerprints reveal identity. Heart prints reveal the inner person. To be seen, fingerprints are left on a thing. Hearts must touch another’s heart to leave the marks of us, our heart prints. They are indelible, forever.
Our hearts and personalities match no others. Ask any nurse caring for a room full of newborns. Each cry is different, as is each personality from the beginning.
We were born one of a kind and have our own reason for being and the gifts to fulfill it. Should make us more understanding of differences.
We all have a place, our own place, in the awesome design of life. We need to accept, respect, enjoy it. Be ourselves, not trying to be someone else. But value each other still. See ourselves as a part of a picture puzzle. Fitting in, interlocking with others, adding our gift. Talk about being special! Talk about having value! No one can take our place! I told my great grandson that no one could ever take his place with me. Our search together has gone on now for five years, and we’ve become close. I keep telling him he’s wonderful, unique. He agrees.