Category Archives: Aging

Dark Times

My…a little time has passed since my last post. Hmmm.

December turned out to be the month from hell as some of you know. Pops was diagnosed with double pneumonia that required immediate surgery. Although the docs thought the surgery would go well…they weren’t sure about him coming off the respirator. Well…that all went swimmingly.

A week later things went downhill quickly and I had to “make the decision”. In the early hours our Christmas Eve Pops passed peacefully and I went to a dark place for a while. I’m still trying to figure out just how everything got handled this past month and half. Mark and Aunt Paula certainly made things easier and kept me sane throughout. And…I received so many notes and cards from my dear friends I never once felt alone in this.

I’m so grateful to have such a loving, caring support network and I thank you all from the bottom of my heart.

I miss you Pops!!

It’s Official

January 19, 2010: 10:37 pm.  I’m now one of them!

Touch of Gray

Yeah…it’s been a while…but the SAD hit early this year so I went into recluse mode until the anti-depressants kicked in. Nothing serious…just the usual winter doldrums that are easily kept at bay with a little wellbutrin.

Not much going on these days which leaves me uninspired to blog. I did receive some mail today that gave me a good laugh though. I received a brochure and coupon for a free bottle of Touch of Gray. Now being a blonde, even one whose hair is fairly brown these days, I have never found a gray hair on my head. Sure, I have plenty of gray in my beard, some in my chest hair and more than I’d like to admit elsewhere but, Touch of Gray isn’t going to touch those parts!

I may be getting older but I sure as hell don’t feel old and I’m definitely not giving in to the marketing scheme created by those that do. I don’t need to die my hair or pre-join AARP just because I’ve passed the big four five. Nope…it’s not going to work with me peoples…at least not until the wellbutrin dries up.

Stage 5

Things are finally starting to calm down here and I’m feeling somewhat normal again. I know…normal is relative, but hey…I’ll take what I can get at this point.

Dad’s been moved from the condo into a nice little double-wide on the 15th green of the Bethel Island Golf Course. Yep, he’s high-falutin white trash now. He doesn’t play golf but he does drink and the clubhouse is just 120 yards away; you could hit it with pitching wedge if you were so inclined. The trailer is nice and more than sufficient for his needs and he has the help of a new girlfriend to make it nice and homey.

Did I say new girlfriend? Actually, she’s his childhood sweetheart from grade school in Arkansas. Really. It’s a long story but in the 50 years since they last saw each other they’ve somehow homed in on the same location and live barely 10 miles apart. They’re so cute together and happy as can be and I’m lucky to have an extra pair of eyes to keep watch over him.

Once we got Dad settled in, Mark and I drove the 700 miles home in one very long day, pulling a trailer full of my sister’s belongings. Sorting through all those items has had the greatest impact on me. With all the immediate issues resolved, the grief hit hard and deep. I could barely open a box without falling apart so it’s been a very long, low period that I’m finally pulling out of.

Most difficult was looking through keepsakes she’s kept since we were kids and despising the fact that I no longer have anyone to share those memories with. I can talk to others about those times but they’re just tales, stories of my past. Not a shared experience. I kept thinking how funny it would be to sit there with her looking through all this detritus; her robust laugh, tears streaming down our cheeks, both gasping for breath until she runs off to the bathroom trying not to pee her pants. Oh, yes, this happened frequently, and she didn’t always make it, which would only make us laugh all the harder.

So, I’ll no longer have Cheryl to remind me of details I may have forgotten or to share the knowing laughter of that experience. Reminiscing now is one sided, one dimensional, just hanging there in my mind to slowly slip away along with my memory…and a lot has already slipped.

Now the keepsakes inciting these memories have been placed on shelves, hung on walls or packed neatly away for future reminiscing; a little bit of Cheryl in each one of them.  It’s time to move on, step back into the world, get Cheryl out of my head…but keep her in my heart, where she’ll stay with me forever.

Sleep well, Sissy.

Bowling Injury

I’ve injured myself bowling. As if the mere fact that a grown man in a non-intoxicated state chose to go bowling isn’t embarrassing enough, I have the added glory of having injured myself playing a non-contact sport.

My left knee, which absorbed the stress of my weight as I slid within millimeters of the foul line to deliver the ball upon the lane is rebelling by not holding up when I walk. Thus, I keep finding myself on the ground…and it’s not pretty.

I can go hiking, running, till the garden and split firewood all day long and maybe have a few tight muscles but this is ridiculous. I can’t sit or get up without support and getting in and out of the car is embarrassing. I know for a fact those people in the parking lot were not laughing with me!

I’m not sure what inspired me to agree to the suggestion of bowling other than the fact that is was random and spontaneous. In fact, it actually sounded…fun. Really. And, it was fun. So, we bowled into the wee hours and now I’m left with a painful knee and no dignity. Someday I’ll grow up and realize that I have to be more careful when having fun at my age. Then again, probably not.


I realized just this morning that I trim the hair in my nose more frequently than the hair on my head.