Bed time

It is now after 10pm and I am feeling as though I should have been in bed an hour ago. What's happened to me? I can remember a time, (and it seems as though it wasn't long ago but I guess it was over 30 years now,) when I would go out to a nightclub with my friends until 3 in the morning, go home to sleep for a few hours and then get up at 8am for work. And I thought nothing if it! I don't even think I was particularly tired the next day. What happened to that person? Now if I don't get my solid 7 hours I can barely function for the following 12 hours and honestly, I cannot think of anything I want to do badly enough to make me stay up after midnight.

For some reason, the older I get, the less I do, and the more I need my sleep. What a crazy life.

Childbirth

It was exactly 33 years ago right now that I was laying in a hospital bed holding my newborn baby for her very first feeding. We had checked in about 1:30 and were only there a couple hours when she graced us with her presence, with her perfect little head and adorable little face. How vivid and special those memories are today, all these years later.

But where did those years go? As much as I can rationally say they went to school, and piano lessons, and 4-H Club, and sports - because I remember every year quite well - I still cannot quite fathom that the tiny baby I held in my arms, so overcome with the gravity and responsibilty of it all, is now a mother herself. Life is strange in so many ways - none more than in the way it grabs us by the scruff of the neck and sends us spinning off through the ages with dizzying speed.

Today I will celebrate a special day, 33 years ago, that changed my life forever. And today I will wonder at how it all goes by so fast. A vapor, as the Bible says. Truer words were never said.

Fall Cleaning

I used to love to do spring and fall cleaning in the house. The kind where we pull all the furniture out, get every hidden baseboard and corner well vacuumed, roll up the area rugs and scrub the floors - it was such a great feeling. But as I get older I am starting to dread it. What was once a liberating and wonderful event is something I now look to with dread. A long week of cleaning out closets, scrubbing walls and cleaning carpets seems like an overwhelming duty now. And I find it easy to put it off as long as possible just because it's so much work.

And I'm only in my 50s. What am I going to do if I'm lucky enough to hit 70? I don't even want to think about it. It is already making me tired...

Muscles

I notice when I sit curled up in a chair for awhile, and then stand up to go into another room, it takes me three or four steps to straighten out all the way and walk upright. What is that about? The muscles just don't seem to make the quick adjustment they used to - like everything else in my body they seem a bit worn and slow. When it happens I usually think something along the lines of "My kids must think I am looking really old these days" because I remember observing such changes in my own parents and thinking that very thing.

I am enjoying my age - it is full of new experiences and tempered with contentment. I no longer worry about the future because I've lived long enough to know the future will take care of itself. But I wish I had the mind of a 57-year-old and the body of a 27-year-old.

Now that would be a winning combination!

Grandkids

I tapped into a very distinct memory the other day. It was when we was in our first home together over 30 years ago now, a tiny little house in Amagansett. I was rocking my first born baby about 2 in the morning - she was only a few weeks old. I distinctly remember looking down at her tiny perfect face and being so overhwelmed with love for this child, and then just as suddenly being struck with a new thought: Is this the way my mother felt about me? Did she love me with this same kind of intense and heart-wrenching love that makes me now know that I would do anything for this child? Wow. I had no idea!

For years I thought there was no other love like that - the love I felt for my children. And this coming from someone who is still very much in love with her husband, and has a big wonderful extended family that I love very much as well. But what I feel for my kids, well that cannot be matched can it?

And then I had grandchildren.

The confounding thing about grandchildren is that we have very little control over much that happens in their lives - we must sit back and watch our children do all the parenting and make all the decisions about what they are taught and what they can do. As much as we would love to wrap them in a bubble and protect them from everything we cannot even be there to protect them from the everyday dangers they face. Their parents have to assume that burden. But when I look into the faces of those kids I feel the same intense emotional connection that I did to my own babies - a primal, protective urge that is so strong it nearly bursts out sometimes. It has in fact - at those times when I've pleaded out loud to one of their parents "She can't do that can she?" or "Do you let him play with those?" Usually I can suppress those kinds of words but sometimes, it just happens. And its not because I think any of them are bad parents, quite the contrary. So far they've all been top notch in the parenting department. It's got more to do with not being in control of something so important to me than anything else.

Anyway - the thing that set all this thought process off was a few days ago when I was going to baby sit for the kids and my daughter said, innocently enough, "I feel better about having them with someone who loves them almost as much as I do!"

She really has no idea....

Saturday

Saturday used to be a long work day around our house. For so many years we rose early and began the process of crossing off the jobs on our list that ranged from house cleaning to car washing to hedge trimming and yard maintenance. We would work together - not side-by-side necessarily but together all the same, to get the house cleaned and manicured and totally up to snuff - at least as much as it ever is around here. (Neither of us is a neat freak!) Even the kids had a chore list for Saturdays.

That was then.

This morning we were out of bed before 7am and started working deligently. I vacuumed, wiped, scoured, and scrubbed around this house which has been a bit neglected during this very busy summer, and even the cabinets got a good going-over. My husband headed for the yard where he washed the cars and is even now toiling away at the hedges which are badly in need of a trim. It's 10am and I am exhausted.

So here is one more thing to put on the list of the annoyances of aging - lack of endurance! Where we used to work until about 3 in the afternoon before resting. Now we are lucky if we make it to lunchtime. And we take little breaks all morning at that. By noon we are usually sitting in chairs, grabbing a bite to eat and trying not to think about how much our legs ache or our backs hurt.

It' a strange thing, watching our bodies wear out. And we are not even that old yet! But we can already see the difference and it sometimes sobers us up realizing how much less we will be able to do in a few more years.

So - we work on our own maintenance - regular excercise and eating (fairly) well. But age is an inevitable part of life and its efects are clear. My poor parents. I should have offered to help them out more...

Memory

Earlier today - or maybe earlier this week - I can't remember which - I told somebody I would do something for them. I remember the conversation enough that I remember saying "No problem! I can do that in a couple minutes! I'll take care of it right away." Now, I cannot remember the person I was talking to, the place we were, any of the details of the conversation (as in what it was I was promising to do) and I'm totally confused. What do I do now? I can't go back and ask what it was I promised to do, I can't do it now even though it might be late - I'm stuck in this world of not knowing anything basically.

It's very unfamiliar territory for me. I am a person who has always prided myself on a pretty reliable memory for details and here I am not remembering enough to even back-track and fix all of it. I'm basically screwed.

My memory has failed in the past but never quite to this extent. I'm not worried about Alzhemiers - not yet anyway - but gosh I hate not being someone that others can depend on.

I supposed it's time to begin writing everything down. Everything. What a drag....

Off limits

Why is it that when you hit middle age so many of lifes most wonderful things are suddenly off limits? Ice cream has too much cholesterol, actually everything that tastes good has too much fat, and the sun is bad for our skin, making us look older and more wretched than we already are. There are dietary restrictions and warnings about all kinds of dangers lurking around every corner where we never would have imagined them before, and even our clothing has to be re-examined, lest we apper to be "dressing too young" or "trying to look like someone half our age". Even my make-up had to be adjusted a few years back because heaven forbid I look too harsh in the light with my newly altered skin tone and texture. I give up, you know? We spend our lives trying to "get it all down", to figure out what works for us, how we like things cooked, what we love to wear - and here we are having to re-think all of it simply because we are a little older. And what is the magic age anyway? When you turn 40? 45? 50? 55? I give up.

I think my grandmother had it right. Do what makes you comfortable and don't worry about what anyone else thinks. She was wearing dresses to her ankles when we were wearing minis in the late 60s and thought she was hopelessly out of fashion. Surely she could shorten them a little I thought to myself! But now I see she was right. She was happy the way her legs were covered and she just didn't care what anyone else did or said.

I wish I had her confidence. I'm working on that. And in the meantime I keep changing my look - softening the make-up, eating what's good for me, and generally trying to be "young" while actually moving quickly toward "old".

As Grandma used to say "Life is grand if you don't weaken!"

Sleep deprivation

I don't remember ever having trouble sleeping when I was younger. For some reason, middle-age brings with it so many things that cause sleep-deprivation! No wonder I'm tired so often!

Let's see - there's caffeine, spicy foods, fatty foods, stress, sensitivity to temperature, nightly bathroom runs...what was it last night? I think it was a combination of the caffeine in that diet soda I drank when we were out, and the multiple glasses of water with dinner that did it. Seems like every hour on the hour I was looking at the clock wondering where my good night of sleep was.

It doesn't happen every night but I certainly appreciate those nice deep slumbers when I get them. With the weather turning cooler when the sun disappears, if I am really, really careful about what I eat or drink after, say, 4pm every day, well maybe - just maybe - I'll enjoy some of those good nights of sleep.

Now that's something to look forward to!

Babysitting

Today is a babysitting day for me. Nothing makes me feel more middle-aged than spending time with my adorable grandkids.

I am so looking forward to spending time with them, but I know I will be tired when I leave their house. I notice how much less energy I have now than I did when my own were little ones. I used to face each day with excitement, wondering what we could all do that would be both a learning experience and fun. Maybe we would walk to the park or just explore in the back yard. And then winter was always fun because we could do all the crafts and baking projects that I enjoy so much. Raising kids was an adventure that I loved.

But now, I arrive enthusiastically thinking about what we can do in the yard but within an hour after I've arrived I am thinking about how I can get them back into the house to watch a movie or something so I can sit on the couch. Lunch is a blessing - we must go indoors! No more chasing them around the yard or pushing them on the swings. We can sit! We can relax! What happened to me?

Middle age is an adventure. Every year brings new challenges and every year brings the realization that life is changing. In fact, usually I feel the same way I did 30 years ago - young and vibrant and full of life! But then, every so often, I get called on to babysit. That's when reality sinks in....

Its a good thing I adore those children!

Tight pants

I cannot help but dread the fall when I realize it is "doctor" season for me. I have made an effort these past few years to lump all my medical stuff into the same time of year so I don't have to spend my entire year dealing with doctors and tests and all that stuff, but the older I get, and the more doctors this involves, the more depressing it is becoming.

It started when I turned 40 with the regular mammogram. No big deal - go see the gyn and have my pap smear and get my mammo. Now its the gyn for those issues, then the family doctor for refills on my prescriptions, the dentist for getting my teeth cleaned and checked, and a yearly endoscopy to track my Barrett's Syndrome. Oh - and the bone scans, and the lab work....enough already!

I could yearn for the early days when I saw a doctor once in a great while when one of my kids had to go! But that would mean being young and stupid again. Or - I can chose to be like my father was and simply ignore any medical problems, not worry about preventive medicine, and simply not go for any check-ups. But at the end of the day what would that gain me? More hours every fall and less aggravation but possibly years off my life.

I don't know which is the best way to go here but I am rather afraid of the alternatives if I decide the high blood pressure and slow thyroid can just be ignored. On the other hand, having gained a few pounds I dread seeing anyone who can, simply by their being who they are, make me feel guilty and ashamed for my terrible shortcomings. They are all very kind but even walking into their offices makes me cringe. A lifetime of feeling judged for your weight will do that to a person.

Well, as usual I will suck it up and go, visiting multiple doctors for various issues and get it all out of the way for another year. But I am dreading the fall!

20/20 vision

There is a recurring memory I have which has haunted me these past few years. I am sitting in my grandmother's living room while she prepares to mend a pair of my grandfather's pants. She sits in a chair near the window where the light is best, unwinds some black thread from a spool, and works at threading the needle. Over and over again she attempts to get that thread through that tiny needle's eye, and finally in frustration I can still hear her voice say to me "Honey could you please do this for me? I just can't see as well as I used to!" Almost with a sense of triumph I run over and quickly quide the thread through the needle and pass it back to her with a smile. I remember being bemused by her inability to do such a simple task and that is the memory that haunts me now. Because now I can't thread a needle either.

Just the other day I struggled with the task in an attempt to mend a similar pair of pants. Over and over I put the needle in front of my face, squinting harder and harder trying to get that little hole in focus. And then hitting the needle with the thread over and over again, hoping against hope that I would get the right spot by chance because I knew I couldn't see it. I did finally manage to thread the thing but what an effort! And my grandmother's living room popped into my mind once again and guilt flooded me with regret. How could I have been so cockey as to think it was me rather than my youth that was so special?

We are all ignorant of the glory of youth when we are young. One of my favorite lines in my favorite movie is from the old holiday classic "It's a Wonderful Life" with Jimmy Stewart. As a young man he flirts with Donna Reed out on the sidewalk of a neighbor's house and the elderly neighbor watches with disgust as Jimmy's character cannot bring himself to get up the nerve to kiss this pretty thing standing right in front of him. "Well go ahead and kiss her you dope" the old man mutters. And then this, the one I think about all the time "Aw, youth is wasted on the young!"

Why is it that as humans we never seem to fully appreciate the things we have until they are gone? Things as simple as the ability to thread a needle should to be cherished for what they are - gifts. For we have so many gifts we tend to take for granted. Throughout our lives. And we never see them for what they are until it is too late. How often in middle age have I realized that truth.

Mirror madness

When I was a young girl I stessed and fretted over every part of my appearance - which is a normal state for teens I think - but it seems so ironic now. Those were the years I actually looked good. What was I so worried about? Here I am now at my age and now I should be working hard ot make myself presentable - yet I have rather a laissez-faire approach to the morning's mirror duties. Sort of a here-it-is-world-take-it-or-leave-it approach.

I imagine an anthropologist will explain it all as life-cycle stuff; you know, primping and preening in seaarch of a mate, then settling down to the business of life when our reproductive years are over. I suppose there is something to be said for that. But honestly, I think its just because I was so stupid when I was young. I always thought I was ugly, fat, plain, ungifted - you name it, I didn't have it. Now, I look back at photos when I was a teenager and I think "Hey-you were a pretty girl!". My son almost blew me away once when he saw an old photo of me and remarked "Wow Mom, you were hot!" Me, hot? I don't think so.

I guess my sister has it right. She explained recently that she finally realized every time she saw a photo of herself when she was younger - by even 10 years - she thought "Gee, I looked so much better then!" So now she figures she should just enjoy the way she looks now because its all downhill from here!

I don't want to be one of those people who takes an hour to get out of the bathroom for all the make-up and hair business. Nor do I want to ever consider cosmetic surgery of any kind! Nothing is sadder to me than an older woman who has a face so tight she looks like she has trouble opening her eyes wide enough to see. No, I want to accept my age with grace and be proud of what I look like. But I struggle with the yearning to be "cute". I think its a holdover from my teens, but whatever it is, I can't sem to shake it. I know "cute" is only a dream. But where would we be without our dreams?

I'm so tired!

What's with the exhaustion? I used to have boundless energy (well maybe not BOUNDLESS) and lately I just want to hang in bed in the morning, listening to the birds singing and enjoying the early morning cool air. Of course I don't, because my Puritan guilt kicks in pretty early on and I figure the day is wasting, but honestly, what gives?

It's a strange phenomenon, this idea of your body wearing out. I see it all the time when I'm doing ambulance calls so I know the reality, but still, its odd. A majority of our work is with the elderly and seeing them in their homes, surrounded by photos of them in their prime, well - it's sobering.

Why is it that we simply don't come with expiration dates so at least we know what we're dealing with? Or why can't we go into the shop and pick up spare parts when something feels worn out? I suppose it's better that we make room in the world for the next batch of babies to grow into, but even as a person of faith, I am puzzled by the whole plan.

Some day I hope to ask the questions in person when I meet the manufacturer.

Aches and pains

My back aches today. I still have not adjusted to the fact that at any time, for no reason, I may experience aches and pains. I don't think this was true when I was younger...at least I never noticed it then. Is it because I was so busy running around after kids that I didn't have time to feel them? No, I think they are a middle-age phenomenon.

Some mornings when I get out of bed the legs feel as though they are made of wood. They don't seem to want to bend and they surely do not want to walk anywhere. It takes me a few steps just to straighten upright and then I have to make forward motion. What an effort.

Of course its not always like this. Some days I feel great and sometimes I have not had an ache or pain in recent memory. But today - well my back is just killing me. No reason for it. Just too much sitting or something.

It's like traveling in the car. I used to be able to do an eight hour trip and think nothing of it. We could drive for hours on end, bound out of the vehicle when we arrived and not even think about having to go to the bathroom. Now when my husband and I stop after three hours of driving we can barely climb out of the seats to go into the rest stop. But the intense need to get into that bathroom moves me forward. The legs, the back, the feet - everything seems to be screaming!

How did this happen? No one ever told me that I'd feel this way. I remember my father moaning and groaning when he got up from his chair - but he was much older then than I am now. Then again, when he was the age I am now I was so busy running around after those same kids, I probably would not have noticed.....