DON'T LOOK IN THE MIRROR: HOW OLD ARE YOU?

Try this. Close your eyes.  Do a little scan of mind and body.  What are you thinking?  How are you feeling?  Do you dwell in the past or project into the future?  What if all that exists is right now?  What if there was no real sense of time, of aging, of even the concept of chronological time?

It's a bit hard to suspend what we already know...we actually do have a concept of time and age.  But just for the purposes of this meditation, pretend you just showed up with a body and only a rudimentary sense of age (you know, for example, that you are not a child).  Someone asks, "How old are you?"  What would you answer?  If you didn't know your chronological age, how old would you say you are?  

Too often we age ourselves mentally by using external criteria and cultural overlay to determine our age, or least how we feel about it.  We look in the mirror and see wrinkles, sags, splotches, crepe-y underarms, cellulite infused thighs, breasts more sagging that pert.  We think, "OMG!  I'm OLD!  I'm UGLY!" And too often our feelings of self-worth take a nosedive.  And that's mostly because we live in a youth-obsessed culture where the "gold standard" of adult beauty is an unrealistically flawless template of perfection achieved somewhere in our late teens/early 20s. 

What if looking older was the gold standard for beauty?  What if wrinkles meant we'd laughed a lot and displayed this evidence of a happy life with pride?  What if the frown lines meant we'd been serious and studious and devoted ourselves to a life of determination and accomplishment and we wore the evidence of that with pride?  What if our soft bodies, with sagging breasts, wide thighs, and soft bellies were prized for finally being a comfortable place to hold a child, cuddle with a lover, celebrate a life of childbearing, work, and then ease?  What if every change we judge negatively was a change to be celebrated instead?  Self-worth would have a totally different definition.

I know a woman who recently had a not-quite-milestone birthday, but close enough.  She laments the changes her body has gone through, noticing a bit of sag and a few deepening lines on her face.  She feels "old" and unattractive.  She is fit; having recently taken up doing challenging hikes and backpacking.  She works full time at a stressful career and is great at it.  She has kids and a husband and a home and all that goes with that.  She's actually in the most productive, stressful, interesting, challenging time of her life.  I am sad for her that a few lines on her face are causing her to feel insecure.  I hate that our culture does this to women.  I am at a loss as to how to mentor her through this, except to try to give her some perspective from a woman who has been where she is.  I don't know if she can hear me.

I've hated my looks most of my life: too skinny, too fat, too white, too blotchy, too many freckles, too short, too wrinkled, too saggy, too unfashionable, too weak; too uncoordinated; too awful and just, well, too ugly.  This constant state of physical ill-ease has led me to outrageously ridiculous and even self-harming behaviors at various times in my life.  Trying to tan when I was young has left me with skin cancer issues ongoing.  Weight Watchers took a chunk of my paycheck while I yo-yo'd through their various programs with weight battles that left me for a time with outrageous binges and if not purges, at least hungry-all-the-time episodes of self-denial.  I've spent untold amounts of money on lotions and potions and every kind of make up in the cosmetics aisle. Some combination of"sex, drugs, and rock 'n roll" was my go-to for far too long in my youth, younger adult years, and even middle adulthood in an attempt to be fun and attractive, or at least an attempt at trying to forget I was not -- in my own mind at least. 

Nothing "worked" because nothing could.  The issue wasn't external.  It was me believing the lie that our bodies define us.  It was me believing the lie that to keep my man I had to look or act a certain way or he'd find his ideal elsewhere.  It was me believing the lie that doing everything to avoid looking/acting "old" was worth doing.  "Old" is the ultimate ugly; the ultimate defeat.

But one of the amazingly great things about growing in age is seeing through the lie.  I'm not sure this can be taught.  I think it has to just unfold and hopefully be embraced.  These bodies will change.  We will grow older, if we are lucky enough to be long-lived. We will solidify a value system that is unshakable and which supports and grounds us. How do we accept and respond to this reality?

We may decide to change unhealthy habits based on a desire to be fit and healthy as we grow older, not because skinny is in style.  We may decide to find a hairstyle that suits us, clothing that is comfortable and well-fitted.  We may decide to wear a little make-up and jewelry if it seems fun to do so -- not because without it we feel we can't leave the house.  We may decide that certain choices and behaviors no longer serve us, or reflect who we have become.  

We will understand that if our partner wanders it's not because of any deficit in us; they are acting from a place of deficit within themselves.  Maybe they crave attention, more appreciation, less stress, more feelings of their own self-worth, which is not going to come from outside themselves.  But their choices for how to deal with their inner struggles are not our responsibility and cannot be warded off by a diet or an injection or a going along with something that we don't want to -- there is no insurance policy against what another person chooses to do.  Just look at the some of the world's most beautiful women, by cultural standards, who have been cheated on and kicked aside.  It's not about the looks.  (P.S. He's getting older too...but so often men don't spend a lot of time lamenting their inevitable physical changes; they haven't been taught their worth depends upon how they look.)

I know many women of my age and older who are relieved to have seen through the lie and have found peace and acceptance with the face/body in the mirror; with who they are.  It is a relief.  It's a perspective I wish my younger friend could have now and not waste time on lamenting the passage of time and how that may impact her appearance.  She will always be beautiful -- great genetics.  She will always be fit and healthy -- a core value.  She will always be responsible and industrious -- to achieve her goals. She will always be kind and loving -- a gentle spirit.  She will always be funny -- a natural wit.  Those things matter and those things don't change.

I think we need to spend more time getting acquainted with our inner spirit, our sense of humor, our intellect, our curiosity, our abilities, our relationships, our accomplishments, our dreams, our goals, our loving hearts.  If you focused on those things, and didn't know your chronological age....how old would you be?  You might be surprised.

At least, that's the view from here...©

Photo Credit: www.pixabay.com

SOUTH CAROLINA VACATION PART 3: ADULT BEVERAGES AND FAMILY LOVE

It's not just in the South, I know.  But it sort of felt that way as I looked over the resort activities each day.  Drinking alcohol is a big thing. People like it.  People want it. People find it fun and carefree and necessary to having a good time.  I don't drink; it's like being perpetually relegated to the Kids Table.  

Here is a selection of activities that included alcohol: Sea Turtles and Tequila* (a nature talk with drinks); Oyster Roast with Wine Pairing*; Local Beer Tasting*; Mimosas To-Go*; Bags & Brews (corn hole tourney); Brew Yoga; Local Rum Tasting and Cocktail Demo; Wine & Cheese Social*; Arnold Palmers on the Porch*.   Starred (*) are the ones the adults in our family did; I went to some, sipping the usual non-alcoholic too sweet soda option, or just water, or I skipped the event and hung out with the kids.  

It's been almost 11 years since my last drink.  You'd think I'd be used to this "one of the kids" feeling by now, but I'm not.  In fact, it's become more isolating with time, to not be part of this ubiquitous social convention around which revolves so much not just joyful consumption, but conversation -- comparing vintages, brews, tastes.  Thankfully, no one in my family over-indulges, so I don't know why it bugs me. I just always wonder what the big attraction is.  But I'm in the minority for sure;  I realize I have some work to do around being a bit judge-y about the automatic assumption that every social gathering requires alcohol to be considered enjoyable.  Still, I secretly appreciate it when someone says "no thanks" to a drink.  I feel like I'm not so alone.  Plus, it feels like that person is making an intentional decision about what they drink, rather than a knee-jerk acquiescence to social conventions.  Anyway, I loved the Milk and Oreo Cookies event the grandkids and I went to.  I fit right in! LOL

To end this vacation recap, it's appropriate that I sit down to finish this series on Fathers Day morning.  Our sons and their families will be here this afternoon to celebrate together: Hub being a dad, Son One being a dad, and bugging Son Two to become a dad.  LOL   And I think back on all the family gatherings of my earlier life, before Hub and I moved away from our home state and before the rest of my family also scattered across the U.S. and before we lost so many to the inevitable "big move" -- death.  

My parents have died, as well as my only siblings, my two brothers, and this year my older brother's wife, my sister-in-law, also died.  My older brother's daughter,  my niece, and her family live in Arizona.  My younger brother's family, my sis-in-law, nephew, and niece and her family live in Georgia.  We have not all been in the same place together since my mom's memorial service in 2008.  It is decidedly strange to be the only living member of my original nuclear family.  It's lonely at times.  

I have a good friend who still has her siblings, the in-laws, all the nieces, nephews, their families, cousins and on and on living near enough to continue to share holidays and rites of passage together.  I envy that.  I realize that when I sit and reminisce, I have no one to fact check with, to laugh with over old times, to just remember a shared experience. Since I've known Hub since high school, he of course plays a big role in walks down memory lane, but his memories of my family life are different and truncated.  

Our family holidays and meaningful moments have mostly been just the four of us -- no extended family to share with, so our sons have not had the experience I did of so many fun and/or "boring" times celebrating a distant cousins' wedding, a great aunt and uncle's anniversary, a grandparent's repeated stories of life on the farm or whatever.  I am sad about that; it's a part of family life that for us was missing except for the annual summer trips back to Illinois for a week.  My sons' memories are of seeing extended family while on vacation -- not as a daily part of their lives.

So we were delighted to welcome our Savannah family to join us on Hilton Head.  One look at my sis-in-law and I was in tears.  First of all, I adore her.  I love this kind, determined, strong, funny, loving, no B.S. woman!  Like Hub, she knows my history at least going back to the 70's and that's getting to be a long time.  When we talk, we can talk in the shorthand of one who knew each other "when" -- through good times and bad, great haircuts and awful, weight fluctuations, stupid decisions, little apartments, cross-country moves, 80's shoulder pads.  We know about being parents and now grandparents.  We know what shared heartache and joy feel like.  We were there for a lot of the big stuff in each other's lives.

Her kids, my niece and nephew, joined us too, with my niece's husband and their kids.  I thought of the generations sitting around the picnic table, our son and my niece sharing their memories of childhood antics during our annual visits, their shared memories of grandma and grandpa, their sort of stunned disbelief that they now have children of their own sitting with us, the younger generation getting to know each other as cousins for the first time.  I had tears in my eyes almost constantly; I'm a sucker for this family connection stuff.  It means the world to me.  

We spent one whole day together early in our trip, then at the end my niece and her kids came for another day of hanging out at the pool.  The following day was travel day for us although on different flights and airports.  My niece invited Son One and his crew to spend the day at her house before their evening flight.  My son said that when they showed up there my sis-in-law and nephew were there as well and they spent the day together watching the kids play, continuing to reminisce, and then bidding a tearful, hugging goodbye to each other.  My son has a heart as tender as mine when it comes to family and I could hear in his voice the deep gratitude and emotion he felt at having had this time together.  There are always good intentions to see each other more often, but then work, school, responsibilities, obligations and the fact of living 3000 miles apart become the realities that thwart those good intentions.  I'm glad we had this -- and hope we can do it again.

And that's the story of our vacation.  I'm not sure it warranted a 3-part series, but since I write this blog not only to share life observations with others who may be able to relate, but also as a documentation of sorts for myself and my family, it seemed special enough to dwell on it a bit.  May we all create special times with those we love.  Cheers!🥛 

At least, that's the view from here...©

Family Silhouette Photo Credit: www.pixabay.com

SOUTH CAROLINA VACATION PART 2: SO GREAT...AND ALMOST ANOTHER E.R. VISIT!

If you read Part 1 you know our recent trip to Hilton Head, South Carolina didn't start out so swell.  I'm happy to report the rest of the trip was better than expected, but ended on another bit of a low note.  Such is life, huh?

So...where did I leave off?  Oh yes, we were waiting for Son One and his family to arrive at the resort on Hilton Head.  They did and it was great to welcome them!  

Frankly I had a wee bit of trepidation about a weeklong family vacation.  But then I have trepidation about a lot of things.  (I'm working on that.)  I tend to ruminate on all that could go wrong and try to mitigate it before it even happens.  It's exhausting.  By now I should know that my rumination and pre-problem solving does nothing to help and most of the time my fears never come to pass.  The things I don't see coming in a million years happen instead (Hub in the E.R.) and I then I realize that I deal with those things just fine, so go figure.  

Anyway, sometimes family togetherness gets tense.  There are the inevitable frustrations, compromises, misunderstandings, grumpiness....human stuff.  But I'm here to tell ya, NONE OF THAT HAPPENED!  Seriously!  Everyone was in good spirits; we were in almost 100% agreement on our joint activities; we had plenty of time together and ample time apart.  We even joyfully welcomed extended family from Savannah to join us for a day-long family reunion early on and got to see them again a week later as the vacation came to a close.  Whatever fretting I had done pre-trip was wasted time and energy.  (Note to self: knock it off!)

The weather was fabulous -- mid-upper 80's and sunny.  There were three swimming pools and the beach a 5 minute walk away.    The tree canopied courtyard area, which our villa overlooked, had a covered grilling/picnic area, a shuffleboard courts, table tennis, corn hole, foosball, a fire ring, and one of the pools nearby.  Where Son and fam had their villa (a 4 minute walk from ours) they overlooked the "kid" pool with a walk-in splash pool entrance and one of those enclosed twirly slides on the deep end.  Our 7 year old granddaughter started the week unsure of putting her face in the water and ended the week with a swim across the pool and diving down to retrieve pool toys on the bottom of the pool.   Proud moment.

The resort had daily activities, which was unexpected. One of my worries was "Will the kids be bored"?  "Will the adults"?  We all ended up loving planning which activities to do together each day!  Nature talks (sea turtles were nesting and we learned all about it!); birds of prey (with live owls!); stargazing (watched the moonrise over the Atlantic); various trivia games that both kids and adults could enjoy (our 12 yr old granddaughter won the Marvel Cinematic Universe contest and I'm sure would have won Harry Potter had we had time to go that day); Campfire S'mores and storytelling by the oceanside firepit; "Name that Tune" "Junk Food Bingo" and Disney trivia games at one of the pools; Milk & Cookies Oreo taste testing (who knew there were a dozen flavors of Oreos?!?).  We didn't make it to the popcorn bar, the ice cream sundaes and floats, tie-dye tees, guided beach strolls and bike trips and movie nights, and Civil War history, and various game tournaments in the courtyard and many other options.  As you can tell, there was no reason to be moping in the room making claims of "boredom"!  Nor was anyone staring at a cell phone to pass the time.

On top of that, one day we rented kayaks and hit the inland waterways through the marshlands paddling alongside dolphins leaping beside us, including a mama and her baby.  Afterward we had a creekside seafood lunch which featured so many oysters!

With so much to do on the resort grounds, we spent less time on the beach than I had anticipated.  Hub and I went for a daily 4 mile beach walk but as a family we didn't have many "just beach" days.  For me, there is zero shade and I'm not into baking all day on the hot sand exposing my poor white girl body to yet more skin-cancer rays.  Been there, done that, and still treating it!  But with only 2 days to go on the trip,  we declared a beach day.  We spread out on the sand, away from the most crowded part of the beach.  We were all eager to jump into the warm sea to frolic in the gentle rolling waves.  Hub and I had such pleasant memories of when we lived in South Carolina on the Isle of Palms where going to the beach and splashing in the ocean was a daily event.  We were excited to share that experience with our grandkids.  And we all were having such a great time, until....

Our 12 year old granddaughter suddenly started yelling for help.  Hub and I were on the beach and saw her making her way out of the water limping on one foot, crying.  We ran to help her, with her parents not far away in the water making their way to her as well.  She cried, "Something bit me!"  We assumed it was nothing...sometimes a little fish will take a nip.  But her foot was bleeding and she was obviously in great pain.  Her dad ran to get help while we tried to comfort her by elevating her foot and putting some ice on it.  WRONG!!!  The beach patrol immediately diagnosed a stingray "stinger" attack and said to get the foot down and apply the hottest compress we could to draw the venom out.  He had a hot pack with him, which he taped to her foot, but advised we get her back to the room to soak her foot in very, very hot water.  

That was no easy task.  We were quite a ways down the beach, away from the villas, and she was in no shape to walk.  Hub and our son got on either side of her and "fireman carried" her all the way -- about a 10 minute or so walk over the sand and through the resort grounds.  Our villa was closest so we got her there, seated on the side of the tub with her foot submerged in hot water. It took about an hour before she felt some relief, but by later that day she was walking around just fine, if a little sore and a bit traumatized.

During all the drama, of course I Googled stingray stings only to find that the Hilton Head E.R. sees about 200 patients a year for stingray attacks, especially during the season when they are most prevalent, May-June -- just when we were there!  A more severe attack would have required an E.R. visit but we determined there were no big spines in her foot; it was likely a glancing blow, but certainly enough to really, really hurt.  Now we know to do the "stingray shuffle" by dragging our feet through the sand so the stingrays can scurry away instead of getting stomped on by ignorant tourists jumping up and down in water like we were!

Vacations are made of many memories.  We made some good ones...and some that make a good story only after the fact.  

At least, that's the view from here...©

P.S. Stay tuned for Part 3 -- adult drinks and the sweet heart-space of family reunited.

SOUTH CAROLINA VACATION: PART 1

I'm cleaning off my desk today and have a little stack of tourist stuff from our recent vacation to South Carolina.  I realize I never wrote about this trip, which surprises me.  It deserves to be documented for starting out so poorly but ending up not being a disaster after all.

Hub and I arranged to take Son One and his family on this trip with us.  We chose a resort on Hilton Head where we had stayed a few years ago and thought it would be perfect for a family vacation and only an hour away from Savannah GA where my sis-in-law, nephew, and niece and her family all live.  Since Hub and I lived off the shore of Charleston S.C., on the Isle of Palms for two years in the early 80s, going there every so often also holds a nostalgic vibe for us.  Two years is not long, but it was a transformative time in our younger lives and made an outsized impact on us.  Anyway, he and I left a few days early to spend time in Charleston before heading to Hilton Head.  

Hub got up not feeling great on travel day.  He is generally a happy flyer (unlike me) and we had sprung for the upgraded seats that came with drinks, which he finds to be a nice perk.  He was pretty quiet at the airport, complaining of stomach ache.  On the flight he sat upright, rigid, not eating OR drinking OR interacting in any way -- just trying to endure the 5-1/2 hour flight, eyes closed.  

Off the plane we waited and waited for our luggage, realizing at long last that one suitcase was not gonna show up on the conveyor belt.  After checking with the airline, it was confirmed that bag was still in Seattle.  Damn.  Hub was miserable by this time and just wanted to get to the hotel, but we had to fill out lost luggage paperwork and still pickup our rental car.  

Once finally at the hotel, our assigned room with a great view reeked so strongly of chemical cleaner that we couldn't imagine sleeping in it.  The Marriott prides itself on "new enhanced cleaning technologies" (whatever that means) but that was ridiculous!  We trooped back to the front desk to request a different room, which took awhile to arrange since they were nearly full with the convention of an NFL security organization, everyone wearing team logos. We finally got a new room, with a crappy view, and two Queens instead of a King, but we were able to breathe.  Hub went straight to bed in agony.  I took the other bed feeling he'd sleep better alone.  (Or I would....but I didn't.)

Hub being ill is such a rare event that I was concerned.  He was obviously in pain, unable to get comfortable.  He tossed and turned for hours until at 4 a.m. he said he felt he should go to the E.R.  This was a startling turn of events.  Hub suggesting an E.R. visit made me think he was at death's door. We got dressed and I drove him to the Medical University of South Carolina (MUSC), where he had actually been on staff all those many years ago.  Deja Vu.  But this time he was the patient.  He suspected a bowel obstruction or pancreatitis.  I was too uninformed about the perils of those possible diagnoses to be as worried as I could have been...me with the diagnosed medical anxiety that turns me into a worst case scenario scaredy cat at the mere mention of a possible health issue.

No E.R. visit is fast or easy, so even though they were not busy, we were there for 5-1/2 hours.  Exams, tests, scans, waiting, waiting, waiting....  Finally we were told everything looked normal and nothing life-threatening was going on.  During the course of things, Hub had started to spontaneously feel a bit better; not great, but better, with less pain.  We don't know what caused his symptoms exactly.  Maybe something he ate, but it wasn't the classic puking/pooping food poisoning response.  It was just lots of pain and bloating, indicating blockage, but there was no blockage.  

He was discharged and we went back to the hotel to sleep most of the day, only venturing out to the deli at the Publix grocery store across the street to get him some nice bland chicken soup for supper.  On the way back we intercepted our lost suitcase being delivered to the hotel.  Our visit to Charleston was not as we'd planned but we were grateful he was not admitted with a serious illness.  Thirty-six hours into our trip things were finally looking up.

The next day we drove out to the Isle of Palms, past our old house, and took a walk on "our" beach, still so beautiful.  Then we headed to Hilton Head, 2-1/2 hours away, grateful we weren't still at MUSC fighting an infection, or worse.  We looked forward to welcoming our family to join us the next day with hope that a whole week together would be as much fun as it seemed it would be in our imaginations; one never knows.

At least, that's the view from here...©