Thursday, May 19, 2011

farewell to the teens

I feel old. It’s partly because I’m turning the big 2-0 this September. It's partly because my back aches and my ankles pop every time I go down stairs. It’s partly because I’m completely independent of my parents. Aaannndd, it’s partly because I just spent the day crocheting, playing Rummikub and Yahtzee, watching Oprah and Family Feud, and waiting in two doctors’ offices for appointments. I didn’t quite realize that this would be my riveting summer schedule until I took the full-time job as a caretaker of my Grandma Doyle for the next few months in Arizona. Yes, it has a few social downsides…but, I’ve decided that there are priceless lessons that I believe everyone should learn through taking care of and spending time with people on the upper side of the age spectrum.

The elderly can be entertaining believe it or not. And dang! they can sure put you in your place when they slaughter you at Rummikub. We played for at least 3 hours…while other people my age could’ve watched two short movies, gone to two college courses, or visited every store in the mall…but, oh no, not me—I enjoy living on the edge. My grandma and I walked to her friend Jackie’s house to play games. She’s one of those people who slightly resembles her dog—a pug. : ] Don’t get me wrong, she doesn’t exactly look like she just ran into a wall, she’s just a cute, spunky little lady, who quickly demonstrated her hostess skills as she put out some orange slices and cherries to eat as we played. She hobbled back and forth to get things situated for our intense gaming. Here’s some snippets of conversation that went on:

Jackie:

“And he said to me, ‘well, didn’t you expect to feel that way when you were 75?’”

[during Rummikub] “Is that black or blue over there…well, that one’s a no-goer.”

[talking to my gma] “Oh, honey I wish I could do something for that cough—here, suck on this tootsie pop.”

“Man, I have a sweet tooth a mile long!!” [as she’s dumping chocolate covered peanuts on a plate]

“Either this darn chair is sinking or I’m shrinking!”

“Here, eat another orange, they’re sooo sweet!”

[talking on the phone] “You can’t put pressure on your foot for 7 weeks??? You better take my power chair—IT’S FAST!!!” : ]

“Come on, come on, give me a 5….well, that’s not a cool 5.” [during Yahtzee as she rolled a 2]

** “Maurine [Gma D.] saved me. Six months after I moved here my husband died, and then Maurine and I became great friends. She saved me.” **

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I learned a lot today. Most of what I learned can’t exactly be expressed in words. I became 10,000 times more grateful for my body and it’s abilities. I thanked God for a chance to hear treasured and genuine stories. I learned how to truly enjoy spending time with wonderful women although they may be decades ahead of me. I learned how to not look at the clock and agonize over how long I’d been playing “an old person game”. I cherished the time I spent with them. I cherished my precious time and life ahead of me. Although I may think sprouting grey hair on my next birthday is a depressing and disturbing thought, I have a deeper appreciation for those spectacular “silver-haired” women.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Swinging


There's something so soothing and mind-numbing
about the wind pushing your hair back
and then letting it go wild,
the chink of the chains
that smell like
old pennies,
and
strange feelings
in your stomach as it begins
to protest to the unnatural movement:
back and forth...back and forth--higher--even higher--too high...
and you lower, back and forth. The whoosh of the wind whispering in your ear
a secret only you can know if you take a ride on the old plastic swing. You can see only forward, but you tilt your head back as your eyelids lose strength and you swing.
As your arms pull the chains for momentum, your legs propel beneath you--
swimming through air pushing--pleading to go higher...please.
Your neck lulls back, sighing to the lullaby
of Mother Nature's breath,
just like a cradle.
Maybe that's why it's so calming--
it takes you back to your younger years when swinging was second nature,
and recess was centered around a set of chains and a plastic seat--a portal to the good days--days when all you had to worry about was the fight for the last blue otter-pop;
those were always the favorite.
That's why swinging is ten times more enjoyable now--
you can let your worries leak out of your ears and just swing--
leave the world behind, or just stop it for a while--and listen to the lullaby
as you gaze into Mother Nature's big blue eyes...
back and forth...higher, higher...
so monotonous,
but sometimes monotony
isn't as bad as people always claim him to be--
at least he's predictable...back and forth...
I like the feeling
as my navel is pulled
by an invisible string--up--
then pulled again in the opposite direction--
down--back and forth...whoosh, but always gentle, smooth.
I like this feeling,
swinging,
I jump on my time portal,
and let Mother Nature tuck me into my cradle
as she sings that all-too-familiar lullaby,
and I drift off
into somewhat of a dream
as I let my cares dissipate into space
and let my mind focus on the sweet flavor
of the blue otter-pop
on my tongue.