Thoughts on Aging and Moments of Grace

Owls guard the entrance to Herald Square in New York City.   They remind me to be wise and to attend to those things that bring wisdom to my life.

I have been slow to write this week.  I have been impacted by the health decline of my almost 86 year old mother, Donna.  My sisters, brothers-in-law and I all met last weekend to share information on our mother's health and the needs of both parents.  Our 88 year old father, Jim, is the primary caretaker for our mother who has been recently diagnosed with Alzheimer's Dementia.  It is a tough reality for all of us.  I took a trip to Tacoma this week and was able to take our aunt Mary Ann, my mother's only sibling, aged 89, out to dinner.  It was my task to tell her in person and I did.  We sat in stunned silence for a few seconds and then Mary Ann stated that she knows two brilliant people (my mother one of them) who suffered this terrible disease.  She spoke of her friend Jim and my mother. She remembered my mother's fierce bridge playing skills with admiration.  Then she stated that we all get old and die.  We went on to share a wonderful meal with her.  I was so grateful to have spent that time with her and to be able to see her perspective.  She has described herself to me on more than one occasion as fairly unemotional.  I am not sure about that but I think she rides the waves of life more easily than many and certainly more easily than my mother who suffers not only from dementia but also from lifelong anxiety issues.  These anxiety issues are complicating her condition and we are all hopeful that we can help stabilize her decline with some outside help.

I also took a big step in my own aging process this week.  I walked over to the Social Security Office that is just six blocks from my house and found out what I needed to do to sign up for Medicare Part A.  I will be 65 on June 18th and have been inundated with advertisements for Medicare Supplemental plans.  Obviously the world of insurers knows I am turning 65 as well.  Mike turns 65 in August so we are getting a double dose of mail about medicare plans.  Signing up was significantly more simple than I thought and took less time than it did to wait to speak to someone in person.  It was worth the time and the wait was tempered by a conversation I had with another customer who provided comfort and wisdom about living with debilitating illness.  Her husband died of Parkinson's related complications.  She patted my hand, called me "my darling" and told me to take good care.  It was a special moment of time and grace.  I am grateful for all those moments of grace that come as random acts of kindness and compassion.  I believe they are a gift of being open to life.

The Julia butterfly at Desert Botanical Gardens.  Butterflies are such potent symbols of the fragility and beauty of life.

Tomorrow Mike and I are doing the service at our church on Immigration Injustice and I have been reflecting on what I plan to share.  I plan to speak about the women who shared their stories at the Kino Women's Shelter in Nogales, Sonora and how deeply those stories and images of the women settled with me.  I have been thinking about the anxiety I felt before I went to Tucson and embarked on the Immigration Justice journey.  I doubted my ability to be witness to the grim reality that exists for the undocumented immigrants who are desperate to reach our country, to save their families and themselves.  I was changed by the experience and I will always be reminded of the courage and determination that those women showed in the face of incredible danger and odds against their success.  I hold that image as I go through my life and watch the decline of my own parents and remember the death if my daughter and how I have survived as well.

I will return to writing about NYC and my visit there.  I was reminded this morning about an exercise I used to employ when conducting work and family life balance.  It was called the juggler.  Many of us are juggling roles and responsibilities every day and we mostly are fine and skilled with the juggling act.  I know that I am very good at multi-tasking on most days.  When crisis hits it comes often in the form of a box that requires both hands and it is typical that all the balls drop to the ground for awhile as we gently handle the box and what it contains.  It is usually heavy with some kind of weight - physical, emotional, psychical, financial, etc.  This metaphor has helped me and others develop compassion for the complicated business of life and I recalled it this morning and realized that being present in my extended family for the decline of my mother is that box for me right now.  I will settle it gently on some days, but other times, it will need to be carried.

I will end today's somber post with a couple more NYC photos.  One I shared on Facebook but not on this blog.  Mike and I visited Strawberry Fields in Central Park and remembered John Lennon and his beautiful music, witness to many wrongs and his tragic, untimely death.

Remembering John and keeping the spirit of a united world loving in peace.

The night brings counsel, wisdom shared on a plaque in Herald Square as part of the New York Herald.
The publisher was known for his obsession with owls.  If I go back to NYC I will revisit the square.

I am grateful for the reminder that sleep can bring new wisdom.  I wish that for all of you who have been reading and have been remembering hard things that you have faced or are facing.

Be well and imagine.

Thanks for reading.