The Life and Times of Me

 I'm 73 today. My mother always taught me to "be a lady". But all I can think of is WTF???? Where the hell did my life go? My mother would have hated my select words. See? You never, ever forget your parents. They live in your brain, always talking, always reminding you of how they raised you.

I've been feeling sad lately. Milo's sudden death in January,  and my diagnosis of CLL,( a slow, not so serious form of luekemia) sort of did me in. Or did it just wake me up to the blatent fact that I realistically only have, at best, 10 or 15 years left of my life. 

My body has been talking to me as well. It's telling me it's definitely not a 50 year old body. Up until now, I've felt no more than 50-ish. But I also look in the mirror and am at peace ,(sort of) with what I see. I could even push it to say I'm happy with what I see. I'm very fortunate to be so healthy. And I actually think I'm good looking. So, today I'm 73. I'm sure when I turn 75 I'll look back at this and smile. Life has been good to me!  

When I was a kid, in the 70’s, I first heard the phrase "find youself". I had no idea what that even meant. You are what you are. Right? Hmmmm!!?? In church I was taught not to listen to your emotions, that they’re deceiving.  Any bad thoughts were of the devil. Praying and worshipping God was the answer to everything. 

Then as time passed,  I got married, became a mother twice, got very religious, and very fat. I didn't have time to think, to be introspective. All I had time for was my kids, church, my pets, my house and trying to keep the peace. That was the 80's. A blur of stuff building up, ready to explode. And it did just that. I like to say my life threw up in my face.

Of course time passes as it always does, and it doesn't slow down or even give you warnings. The 90's became my best, but one of the most difficult decades. It started one evening, as I was lying on the couch and I said, "I'm lost"! The words were from way down inside my soul, waiting to have permission to become verbal. They just fell out of my mouth, without said permission, and I felt like I was being animated. My husband, a little surprised,  asked "What did you say?". 

In the 90's I started thinking about myself. I started realizing there was an answer to "who am I". The words of Jesus, "love God first and love others as you love yourself" confirmed that I needed to know myself before I even could love myself, let alone love others. 

So, in the 90's I bacame an empty nester, I wasn’t sure about my marriage, I became spiritual rather than religious,  started drinking (I didn't really drink alcohol until I was in my 50's ),  lost over 50 pounds, and was in counseling with an amazing counselor.  It was all a sweet, scary  uphill struggle.  But I was learning to love myself. I made so many mistakes and apologized to some people, but God showed true graciousness.  Even my mother in law said I'd changed. My 50's were my best years. 

However, I need to mention my pets, particularly my dogs. Mike, Murray and Lexy. They traveled that decade with me and witnessed many arguments, rages, throwing things, breaking things, and sad, almost desperate tears of resignation.  They licked my tears away and let me know their love was unconditional.  I really regret what I put them through. It was now early 2000's.

When I was 59 we moved from my home of 20 years in the midwest to a city in the desert. It was exciting; a new beginning and at last I was at peace with me. 

In my 60's I lost Lexy and Murray and added Tasha, Milo and Rosco. Milo was my favorite. In my 60’s I retired.  And I'm proud to say that in my 60’s I still felt as beautiful and sexy as I did in my 50's. 

Today I'm 73. We still have Tasha, but we've lost Milo and Rosco. We added Enzo and Elliot. They brought life and joy back to me. Especially Elliot.  He was a stray, lost and on the euthanize list at the county shelter.  Miraculously we were able to adopt him. I truly believe Milo sent him. 

Rambling is one of my better qualities and I've done just that. But how can you be 73, trying to write about your life,  and not ramble??? The changes in life I've seen: presidents, technology,  style the internet and it's surge of information,  family, friends and pets who have died. There's just so much, isn't there?

Maybe instead of saying I'm sad, maybe nostalgic is a better word.  But I'm happy. I love being retired so much and my dogs are my hobby. 

So, that's it. I'm not sure what's ahead of me, but the truth is, there's more behind me thsn ahead. And I'm okay with that!

 I'm done with this virus.  Unbelievable that the year is over half finished and it's been focused on nothing but sickness. That sickness includes the sanity of trump and the people who support him. Going out of my house now is just a big deal and not worth it.  I don't get dressed up, I don't think about going for a drink with my husband, let alone going out to eat.  I am so over this.

Right now I'm sitting with three middle school boys who are doing their school online.  That's not what they signed up for, but that's just the way it is right now.  I am making sure they stay focused and do their work.  Not an easy task.  Just sayin'.  

I've also been  pretty apathetic.  My feelings are dull and calloused and I try to get lost in mindless tv shows or shopping.    I think it's okay with me for now, but the weird thing is, the other night I was listening to a mediation recording, and the guy said "time out of time" and I started crying.  Not a heavy duty cry, just a sort of weeping.  Where the tears came from, I don't know, but at least for a short amount of time, I felt something.  

Focus

Sunday, day whatever of trying to stay home.  

This morning however, my focus is not on the virus but on this election year. Maybe the two are interchangeable right now though.

In any case, I've started going down a rabbit hole of negativity and hopelessness about the future. Clearly, I need to make sure the state of the country is not a part of my happiness. 

I have let myself get caught up in social media's constant tsunami of hateful words, which of course affect one's psyche. It's difficult to change that but I'm starting to see it as a tool to help me change my thoughts, which eventually will contribute to changing me. 

I'm starting to realize that an important part of happiness is finding joy in the present moment. But my mind does a lot of time travel. For example, I wake up in the morning and almost immediately begin thinking about the day ahead. 

Ghosts of Self Past

Sitting here on a mattress in our once dining room I'm listening to an incredible cd my friend Jimmy made for me as a good-bye gift.  It's crazy the way he knows my taste in music.  I've always said music is my second language. I'm looking over at our once living room and although it's empty I see a lonely, lost woman who is separated from her husband of thirty years.  She realizes how much she still loves him no matter what he's done.  Perhaps God just gifted her with the realization that He put that unconditional love inside humans.  In any case, she realizes she wants him back.  He still loves her, comes over, and she sees him for the first time; again. 

I now see, instead of this mattress and box spring I'm sitting on, a room with a giant dining table. The lights are soft and gentle so everyone around the table looks beautiful, flawless. There are smiles on their faces and laughter echos as they chat and share.  In the corner by the table is a high chair with an adorable little boy, food all over his lovely little body, but crying for yet more cream.

Looking over by the white brick fireplace I see two adorable kids, a boy and girl, on Christmas Eve, adults are busy talking and drinking red wine and eating all sorts of delac. There's a fire in the fireplace and snow is on the ground outside..a lot of snow. 

Continue to rewind and I see a home filled with kids, teen kids.  It's New Years Eve 1999 and of course Prince is blaring on the stereo...yeah, you know what he's singing over and over; "1999"!  There's a ping pong table in the basement, kids there too....running through the house.  It's theirs for one night, to do what they want.  Guess what?  They didn't trash it. 

Memories flash before me as I stare at all the vacant spaces and empty walls.  But the walls have their own stories they can never really tell, unless of course you listen very, very hard and carefully. Then you'll hear, I promise.  This home has a life of it's own.  A little odd that it seems almost human.  Almost angel like.  It's taken lots of love and affection.  It's let me decorate her walls with whatever I wanted...and she was always grateful, always carried the fashions well....exceptionally well.  It's also been abused...walls hit out of anger...(oh don't act so shocked).  Doors slammed...But it always came back in a stunning and beautiful statement that said, "I still love you, I'll still make you feel as safe as possible." 

It's been said that home is where the heart is.  I'm leaving a bit of my heart here as I leave, sort of like a time capsule.