PANIVERSARY

Well, flashback time:  One year ago (March 11, 2020) we heard the startling declaration by the World Health Organization that we were officially experiencing a global Covid-19 coronavirus pandemic.  To date,  529,301 Americans have died; worldwide, 2.64 million.

I see there are many "anniversary of the date" stories being published and news shows being produced covering all we've gone through personally and collectively.  It's hard to recap in one pithy blog post.  But anyone can tell you....it's been quite a year.

One year ago in early March, when we started to get a little nervous,  we happened to buy a new car -- not shaking on the deal, but using sanitizing wipes to wipe down hands, handles, knobs, and steering wheel before driving it off the lot.  Hub left the next day with friends for a weeklong snowboarding trip.  I was home alone as the news of the virus rapidly unfolded in startling and terrifying detail.  Schools closed, sports teams suspended seasons, stay home orders were announced.  I recall being alone, afraid, confused.

And wondering....would other plans be cancelled?  With airline tickets purchased and accommodations paid for, one year ago this week both of my sons took off for a long-anticipated trip to London with several other of Son Two's good buddies for a Bachelor Trip to see favorite soccer teams play on their home pitch and have a rip-roaring good time in advance of Son Two's May wedding.  The soccer games were cancelled. Son Two came home with Covid 19.  (Thankfully a mild case.)  The May wedding ended up being scaled back from 250 guests to two, plus officiant and photographer; the family attended via Zoom.  

Son One and his wife stayed in London after the Bachelor Bash for a week on their own, a much needed and hugely anticipated "life goals" vacation, while we hosted the grandkids at our house.  We went ahead with the plan even though by then schools were closed, distancing was in place, and we had to find outdoor entertainment and outings instead of doing anything at all around other people.  We did it and I am so grateful for that week.  I will always remember it as a time of close connection with the girls and lots of fun, creative, daily loving interactions.  Son One and Beautiful DIL practically had London to themselves as everything began to shut down while they were there.  Once home, they showered and ditched their travel clothes before we returned the girls home on March 21.  Thankfully they were well and continued to be.  And that is the last we saw them in person for many weeks and then only very occasionally over the past year.

At that point things grew grim.  And all the days/months have run together.  There were lovely times, sad times, challenging times, cozy times, rageful times, joyful times, and too many times of tearful grief to recount.  Life went on with distancing, masks, caution, Zoom.  

I'm thinking about what I've taken away from this experience personally.  It will take awhile to sort out.  As I said in a previous post, I have a feeling much has changed, but not much of it visible or well-rooted yet.  

I know I am finished with a life chockfull of busyness.  I want a life of deeply satisfying relationships and some greater meaning -- a greater degree of equanimity than has been the norm for me.  All of that takes a lot of introspection and courage to manifest.  I have uncovered a deep fear of being abandoned and alone in the world along with deep issues of trust, so I see that much needs to be examined and healed for me to feel I've gained strong footing in this area.  I've finally learned we cannot place the care of our tender souls in the hands of others, no matter how well-meaning they may be.  I find I need to find inner strength and confidence to know I can make it on my own and can count on myself to a greater degree than has been my habit.  I have gotten this message and have had to learn this lesson over and over and over this year.

I know I am an introvert and, really, this year has in some ways been an introvert's dream.  I'm not anti-social, but I do love lots of "home and hearth" quiet time and that's where I'm generally most at ease.  Unlike others who are so eager to resume "normal" I am hesitant and will be discerning about what normal will look like for me going forward.

I don't mind Zoom, if it is 90 minutes or less and no more than once/day.  I don't miss commuting to places.

I've lost weight.  I eat healthy foods, planning meals and cooking more often. For several months I gave up sugar completely (it snuck back in, but with far greater intentionality about when and how much I eat it).  We found a lovely young family running a small sustainable farm and their fresh produce graced our table until they closed in November for the winter.  I do my own yoga practice twice/week and started teaching yoga myself (!) once/week. Hub and I walk 4.5 miles at the waterfront 2-3 times/week or find local parks and trails to explore on our "day dates".  I am grateful for my health and the time/effort to focus on it.  Anything can hit us out of the blue -- like a global pandemic -- but if I can have impact on my own health by my own actions, I will. 

I have had relationship and family "issues" that have caused grief and sadness, but I have come through it with deeper self-awareness and the ability to own what is mine, set boundaries where needed, and (try to) accept what I cannot change.  As Hub often reminds me, "This is not the end of the story."  Often what is happening in the moment is the way we think things will always be.  But in fact, things are always changing.  I am learning to take a step back, be the observer of what is happening inside and outside of me, and try to let everyone and everything "be".  Ongoing process.

I am incredibly grateful to have my vaccinations and the joy of hugging my grandkids again as things slowly improve.

Deniers and anti-maskers are probably crowing about how they knew it was "no big thing", but to over 500,000 Americans who died (and their families) it was a very big thing.  To those who contracted the virus but survived (some with chronic ongoing health issues) it was a very big thing.  To exhausted and emotionally devastated health care workers it was a very big thing.  To essential workers, many low-wage and people of color, who had no option to stay home to protect themselves, it was a very big thing.  To all of us who took our own safety and that of others seriously enough to distance, wash, and wear a mask for the past year, it was a very big thing.  Some of us sacrificed for the greater good.  That is always a very big and wonderful thing.

Spring is in the air.  Vaccines are getting into arms.  Schools, businesses, entertainments are re-opening by degree.  This is such good news.  It is a welcome pause in the horror movie, but we are not out of this quite yet.  The virus still rages.  But maybe, today, we can literally take a deep breath of gratitude.  And let us never forget the lessons of this long, lonely, amazingly disorienting year.  What have we learned?  How will things be different?  Take a moment to reflect and decide: Who am I now?

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

Photo Credit: www.pixabay.com

AGE -- A STATE OF MIND

This month has been crazy busy.  First there was sleep-over camp (well documented in my previous post), then we continued the deep dive into a huge building renovation project at our UU Fellowship (it's an old building needing constant attention to much deferred maintenance and rather lax tidiness standards -- a group of us are seeking to rectify this), and now we are prepping for an 11-day vacation, to commence next week.

In the midst of all of this, we celebrated our 42nd wedding anniversary -- or as Hub said, "42, with a year off for 'bad behavior'".  Yes, I guess we qualify the total number of years of married bliss by mentioning in passing that year of living apart back in 1978, but it was so long ago….

Anyway, "the kids" were all here for weekly Family Dinner the night before our anniversary and I commenced to announcing that it seems impossible for me to fathom that we've been married for as long as one middle-aged lifetime when the reality is that Hub and I look and act so incredibly youthful!  Why, one would guess our ages to be a mere 42 years old!

I said that we are now almost the age my parents were when our sons were young.  I asked if they thought of my mom as being "old" when she was a really only 65.  The two sat there in silence.  I prompted again…"She was so young!  She didn't seem old, did she?"  Again, silence.  Then a mumbled, "Um, yeah."

"Really???" I said.  "But 65 isn't really that old!"  Son-Two looked at me and said, "But Mom, we thought you and Dad were old too -- and Grandma was really old!"

Hmmm….I understand.  They were just children with no idea about the trick of internal perspective being at complete odds with external appearance.  In their 20's now, they likely still don't get it.  But they will.

I remember my mom saying to me, in her late70's or so, that she wondered who that old lady was looking back at her in the mirror.  She said she didn't feel old at all.  At 63, I'm having the same experience.  I'm shocked at times by the sags, the wrinkles, the crepe-y skin, the bumps and age spots that are starting to emerge.  My body is in full rebellion from my mind.  Candlelight is my friend, as are long sleeves, a sturdy bra, and "tan in a bottle" lotions.

One day recently when 4-1/2 year old Angel was here for a sleepover, she asked me where my mother lived.  I told her my mother had died and I miss her very much.  She said, "Why did she die?" so I explained that she got pretty old and got sick and her body was tired and needed to rest forever.  (I really don't know how to explain death to a 4 year old without it sounding super scary.)  Angel said, "I hope you don't die soon."  I was taken aback.  "Why, Angel honey, I'm not going to die soon…why would you think that?"  She looked at me very seriously and said, "Well, you are getting pretty old too."  I was somewhat surprised to hear her say this -- I'd just crawled all over the floor with her, waited on her almost constantly for snacks and toys, played hide and seek in the yard for a good long time…me, old???  "Hmmm..what makes you think that?" I asked.  "Well……you've got those lines all over your face."  Busted!

To my beautiful granddaughter, so new to this world, so perfect in every way, I am "getting pretty old".  She can tell by looking….which actually makes me a little happy.  Aging is natural and normal and important.  It is the signal that life is moving along as it should.  Of course I seem "really old" to her.  Of course her parents are old too (at 28).  It's the Circle of Life, right?

There is no point in trying to trick ourselves, our children, our grandchildren, or the neighbors.  I don't love my 'lines' or my graying hair, or the sags and imperfections, because they remind me this body won't last forever.  But I do love my mind and my heart and my soul -- all of which are ageless and all of which are really who we are -- not this skin we walk around in.  If I keep exercising those inner traits, keep challenging, keep learning, keep growing, I'll be forever young to the end, no matter what this crazy body decides to do with itself.

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

WITH THIS RING, I THEE WED

I'm struggling here.  I feel I should have lots of wisdom to impart upon the occasion of this month's personal milestone -- having been married for 40 years, to the same man.  But I'm coming up short.

Someone told me I should write a book and "tell us how it's done".  Wouldn't that be nice?  A "how-to" manual in a one-size fits all format.  It would have saved me a lot of heartache had someone handed me that 40 years ago.  But that's not how it works.  We all make our own way in relationships.  Sometimes the way works; sometimes it doesn't.  Sometimes we ought to run for the hills; other times hanging in there is the best course.  Who am I to know what would work for someone else?

This is do know.  I said I was married to the "same man" for 40 years.  That's not really true.  Nor is he married to the "same woman" who stood at the altar with him on that hot July afternoon.  Hub and I often joke about our "many lifetimes" together.  We recognize the changes we've undergone, separately and together, and realize that we are no longer the same people we were then in some very essential ways.  I love that!  I guess I love it because I think we are better now, but not as good as we are gonna get.

And therein lies what works for us.  We've learned that change is inevitable, that introspection and the desire to live a life of integrity, accountability, commitment, and inner peace are touchstones that allow us to stretch into unfamiliar lands of exploration and discovery.  We are willing to wrestle with our personal demons, acknowledge them, heal them, and move into the light of self-knowledge that precedes meaningful personal growth.  We have the compass of those guiding principles and find we are lost less often and have an easier time getting back on track when we do lose our way.

Also, we love each other.  We accept each other.  And most importantly we respect each other and have each other's backs.  I am like a Mother Bear when I feel Hub is unjustly treated; it's hard to get back in my good graces if you mess with my man.  As for him, he is my constant champion, always believing in me, cheering me on.

We also tend to agree, usually, on the stuff that often creates un-breachable rifts in couples:  money, religion, politics, sex, how to raise kids...basically, we have the same "world view".  We both tend toward introversion.  We like the same music and movies and sports teams.  We value family.  We have mutual friends and give each other lots of space to enjoy individual friendships as well.  I think many of these commonalities were there from the beginning, or maybe it's the many years of trial/error/compromise that has created so much "alikeness" at this point.  Reminds me of people who tend to look like their dogs.  We often choose those who are a reflection of ourselves -- we are compatible.

But there are points of difference too.  Sometimes we choose those very unlike ourselves, being drawn to that very different-ness as a way to experience another way of being without having to really be that other way.  Hub and I have made some peace, although frustration sometimes rears an ugly head, with those places that we probably won't ever share with the same passion.

He is an outdoorsy, athletic, mathematically-inclined, rational individual, who knows what he wants and how to get it, and is persistent enough to ensure he is successful in whatever he undertakes.   I think he sees life as a problem to be solved and he is sure he can do it.  He can be sort of serious. I, on the other hand, could spend days in a bookstore and/or coffee shop, love pop culture, the world of words (reading/writing), have a "messy" mind that seems to see all sides of every issue and "feels" rather than "thinks" my way through situations.  I see life as absurd; if you are articulate and can make me laugh, I'm yours.

Together we get to be all of these things.  I visit beautiful places in nature, love football, and have learned to be organized and work toward goals.  He shares my passion for Ecstatic Dance, Stephen Colbert and Jon Stewart, and can often "go with the flow" now even better than I.  In some ways, since retirement, we've even done some role reversal -- he lazing about 'til noon most days and me up at 5:30 ready to tackle a to-do list.  Weird!

So, anyway, I don't know.  There are no easy answers to how to stay married for 40 years.  Those many lifetimes together have sometimes just been an endurance race....hanging in there.  And sometimes I have thought about what my life would be like without him, losing myself in a fantasy of singleness, freedom, no more negotiating and compromising....and it feels both liberating and lonely. At other times those many lifetimes together have just been the air I breathe.  I am so connected to this man and our marriage that without him I'd feel cut loose in space, floating forever alone, unable to ground myself in all that I have known and loved, without him by my side.  I know how that sounds.  I still mean it.

We are a couple; we love each other; we re-commit every single day that we wake up together and move through another day together and go to sleep at night together.  We are here, companions on this path.  We aren't going anywhere else.  We don't know what future lifetimes await us -- certainly there will be joy and challenge, just as there always has been.  Our desire now is to be fully present in each moment, moving into our Eldering years with grace and gratitude, together.  We'll do our best; life will do the rest.

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