Growing Old Gracefully

This week I took a short trip with my youngest daughter flying from Michigan to North Carolina to see a granddaughter graduate from college.  What a great time I had not only seeing this granddaughter graduate, but also seeing my oldest daughter and all of her family.

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For my daughter and I it was a learning experience.

Many years of my life I have spent teaching, helping, caring for my children and grandchildren.  For many years I was the one in the kitchen fixing a Thanksgiving meal, playing on the floor with the grandchildren, being the “helper” for the family.

Slowly as my children have grown up and had children of their own I have taken less responsibility and they have done the cooking, the “helping.”

But still I saw myself as a strong, independent woman who tried to be a source of help and encouragement to my family.  I certainly could take care of myself and did not need help.

But this trip revealed to me that this old body of mine is not what it used to be and it is now my time to accept help from others.

We drove into the airport at Detroit.  My daughter asked for a wheelchair for me to get to our gate.  But my pride insisted I did not need that.  I could walk.  Being patient with me my daughter walked along with me and had to slow her steps down to accommodate me as I struggled to keep going.

By the time we got to our gate I was in so much pain.  My legs just refused to cooperate and let me walk long distances.  My poor daughter was faced with the task of insisting that “Mom, you need a wheelchair when we land in Greensboro.  You can’t walk that far again.”

How I so wanted to say that was not true.  I was still young enough to get through an airport on my own.  But my aching legs told me I needed to listen.

So – at Greensboro we were met by a kind man with a wheelchair who wheeled me all the way through the airport to the area where my daughter rented a car for our time in Greensboro.

Throughout the trip it became clear that I needed help – getting in and out of the bus that drove us from terminal to terminal, carrying my bag, walking up stairs.  At the graduation both my daughters and son-in-love were there to give me support as I climbed up the stairs in the coliseum where the graduation ceremony was held.

So my daughters and I began to navigate that journey

  • for my daughters – how do we help our mother without making her feel stupid or incapable of doing for herself?
  • for me – how do I accept the help I need with grace and thankfulness for their love and offer of help?

It’s a journey we will have to continue to navigate.  I need to continue to do for myself all I can, but I also must accept that the time has come to accept some help.

There were a a few moments of frustration as I tried to tell my daughter where I saw a parking spot or give advice on something where I really knew what I was talking about, but she seemed to ignore me.

Then I had to laugh as I told her:

“I got mad because you didn’t listen to me and I knew what I was saying was right, but then I had to think why would she listen when I just ordered a drink, walked over to the dispenser to get my cup and had to ask her what size drink I just ordered”

We both shared the laugh.

I’ve still got lots of life and enjoyment ahead of me, but as I continue to age, I pray that I will age gracefully and be a person of joy and laughter and be humble enough to accept the help I need.

Not sure who actually wrote this, but today it seems appropriate:

My dear girl, the day you see I’m getting old, I ask you to please be patient.  If when we talk, I repeat the same thing a thousand times, don’t interrupt to say: “You said the same thing a minute ago”… Just listen, please. Try to remember the times when you were little and I would read the same story night after night until you would fall asleep.

When you see how ignorant I am when it comes to new technology, give me the time to learn and don’t look at me that way… remember, honey, I patiently taught you how to walk, to eat, to read. to dress yourself.

When my old, tired legs don’t let me move as quickly as before, give me your hand the same way that I offered mine to you when you first walked.

 

I hope this post does not sound like I’m ready to “kick the bucket.”  There are still roads trips to take, friends to meet, flowers to plant, much more life to enjoy.  Just recognizing it may be time to walk a little slower and be a little less prideful in my own ability.

The Good Book says “pride goes before a fall.”  Now I realize this was not about actually walking but I had to laugh as I thought – “In my case too much pride to accept help just might mean a fall for me.”

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Thanks for Remembering!

This month two of my grandchildren are graduating from college.  A granddaughter in North Carolina is getting her BS and will be starting law school in the fall.  A grandson in Tennessee is getting his Master’s.

As I rejoice in these two grandchildren’s success and hard work, I wonder where did the time go?  It was only yesterday they were playing with puzzles at my kitchen table or playing on the merry-go-round at the park.

As my grandchildren grow up, go to college, start careers, get married, have lives of their own and also live so far from me (grandchildren in Texas, Illinois, North Carolina, and Tennessee – but only one in Michigan where I live) it is only natural that my time with them is limited.  The circle of life turns and we old folks are no longer an active part of their lives.

But I often relive times spent with them as they grew up.  My granddaughter who is graduating was such a cute baby.

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When this picture was taken I was in the Philippines along with my husband and youngest daughter teaching in a Bible college.  I missed her first year but I always treasured this picture her mother sent to me in the Philippines.  Sometimes I feel sad that I missed her first tooth, her first step.  But thankfully I was back with her by her second birthday and shared so much joy watching her grow up.

Her first step toward becoming a lawyer was getting her Associate’s Degree.

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Now she has completed the second time with her Bachelor’s Degree.  So excited for her as she takes this next step and enters fall school.

One of my prayers for my grandchildren has always been that when the time was right, God would give them a Christian husband/wife.  It was my joy two years ago to see the answer to that prayer.

 

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But sometimes I must confess I wonder if the memories I treasure are held in such esteem by my grandchildren.

So – today my heart is so happy.  I got a text from this granddaughter that said:

Brandon and I are at the mall and we saw a carousel.  It made me remember all the times you and Grandpa took me and my brothers to the mall to ride the carousel.  I love you!”

What can I say to express my joy!

If someone has given you great memories be it a grandparent, a parent, an aunt or uncle, maybe a school teacher or a youth leader, take time to let them know you remember.  We often wait until someone has died to share how important those memories were.  Sadly, it’s a little too late then.

Thank you Barbara Rose for remembering!

 

 

 

 

When the Teacher Becomes the Student

When my girls were growing up I tried to share with them from the Word of God and prayed they would love the Word as much as I did.  For years I was the teacher.

But that has changed now.

Phone rings.  The caller ID says it is my daughter, Jessica.  When I answer I hear, “Momma, I was just reading the Gospel of Matthew (or the Old Testament prophet Jeremiah or another book of the Bible), and did you know?

Then she begins talking almost non-stop on some new thought, some new idea on what she has been studying.  I lean back in my recliner and get comfortable because I know I am going to be on the phone for quite awhile.

All that is required of me in this conversation is to occasionally say “yes”, “oh”, or something to let her know I am listening.  She will talk on and on and I wonder if she is going to take a moment to breath as she shares with me a new insight to God’s Word.  Or, it might be a writer who has encouraged her to take a new look at Scriptures.

Sometimes what she shared I had already discovered myself years ago, but her enthusiasm at the truth is so good to hear – and often renews my desire to revisit that portion of scripture or rejoice in that truth.

However, most of the time she is opening to me a new observation, a new understanding of God’s Word.

Almost always when we end our conversation, I think to myself, “I have been teaching the Bible for years and I never saw that before.”

Then, I smile and thank God for this daughter who is wise beyond her years and who is teaching me to understand more of the width, the depth of God’s Word.

It’s humbling, but also a joyous time when my student becomes my teacher.

 

 

Am I a Michigander, a Michiganian, a Michigander, a Michiganite, Michiganese, or a Michigine?

Well now I guess it is official.  As of April 8, 2019 I have become a Michigander.

Six months ago my husband and I moved from northern Illinois to St Johns, Michigan – just about 20 miles north of the state capital of Lansing.  Never in our wildest dreams did we think we would spend the last years of our life in Michigan.

Both of us were born and raised in Illinois.  My husband was in the USAF for 20 years so he spent much of his early adult life out of the state.  However, upon his retirement he returned to what was home.

I spent a couple of years out-of-state also but most of my 71 years has been spent in Illinois.

Illinois

  • corn fields
  • Abraham Lincoln
  • boyhood home of Ronald Reagan
  • Chicago Cubs
  • Major winter storms, deadly tornadoes and spectacular heat and cold waves.
  • The worst state in the union for financial stability

Last October we moved to Michigan and rented a small house.  We were not sure we would like St Johns and did not want to make a commitment until we determined whether we liked it or not.  We followed our daughter and her family here and said we would give it a year’s trial.

After six months we like Michigan, we discovered we like Michigan.

Michigan

  • The Mackinac Bridge – one of the longest suspension bridges in the world
  • Battle Creek – cereal capital of the world
  • lighthouses
  • Great Lakes
  • Motown Records
  • apples

So we purchased a condo and on April 8 – my birthday – we signed the closing documents.

All this week we have been packing boxes and moving the smaller items.  Since we moved only a mile away we were able to actually hang up pictures and put up curtains.  Today family and friends helped us move the heavy furniture.

So now here we are – officially Michigander or Michiganian or whatever!

 

 

Goldilock and the Three Homes

The past few months I have felt like Goldilocks.  You remember her.

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Once upon a time there were three bears who lived in a house in the forest. There was a great big father bear, a middle-sized mother bear and a tiny baby bear.

One morning, their breakfast porridge was too hot to eat, so they decided to go for a walk in the forest. While they were out, a little girl called Goldilocks came through the trees and found their house. She knocked on the door and, as there was no answer, she pushed it open and went inside. 

Goldilocks went upstairs, where she found three beds. There was a great big bed, a middle-sized bed and a tiny little bed. By now she was feeling rather tired. so she climbed into the big bed and lay down. The big bed was very hard and far too big. Then she tried the middle-sized bed, but that was far too soft. so she climbed into the tiny little bed. It was neither too hard nor too soft. In fact, it felt just right, all cosy and warm. and in no tine at all Goldilocks fell fast asleep.

It was too big

We were living in a nine-room house wth a beautiful sun room that looked out on a hosta garden

As time passed I realized this home was too big.  Getting older I found it harder to keep everything clean and did not want to spend my last years cleaning house.  There was too much adventure still waiting for me.

It was too small

So we downsized and our next home we picked was less than half the size of the home we had.  At first it was nice not having too much to clean.  However, we soon realized it was too small.

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Not enough storage space.  Even after major downsizing we had, like most Americans, too much stuff.  And it was impossible to do any real entertaining as there was just not enough space for more than three or four people.

It is just right

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Next week we move into our new condo.  Bigger than the current house we rent, it has lots of storage and a great room where we can entertain friends.  But it is only five rooms so it will be much more manageable to keep clean.

The story of Goldilocks does not have a happy ending.

Just then, Goldilocks woke up and saw the three bears.  She screamed, “Help!”  And she jumped up and ran out of the room.  Goldilocks ran down the stairs, opened the door, and ran away into the forest.  And she never returned to the home of the three bears.

But I’m thinking mine story will.

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Stay tuned to hear how Goldilocks (I mean me) finds her new home.

 

 

 

Change is the Only Constant in Life

Sometime ago I wrote about my desire to have a forever home and the realization that I will not find that home until this life on earth is over.

You can check my story at:

Waiting for My “Forever Home”

Six months ago my husband and I moved to Michigan from Illinois.  We followed our daughter and her family to a small town called St Johns.  Our daughter had accepted the position as pastor of a church in the town and we chose to join them.  We said we would give it a year’s trial and if it did not work out for us, we could move back to Illinois where our son lives or to North Carolina where another daughter lives.  But it has proven already to be a great place to live so we have purchased a condo and will be moving next week to our new home.

According to the popular stats blog, FiveThirtyEight, the average American will move 11.4 times in their lives. This means we can assume 11 homes are lived in over the course of an American’s lives.   I clearly beat that average.  By the time I graduated from high school I had already lived in 12 different houses and in six different towns in Illinois.  With this move I will have lived in 30 different houses in four different states and in two different countries.

And moving around like that has meant my school years were also full of different schools – I was always the “new kid on the block.”

  • In six years of grade school I attended five different schools
  • In two years of junior high I attended three different schools
  • In four years of high school I attended two different schools
  • And for college – I attended three community college and three universities.

Sometimes I have felt jealous as I saw people who had lived in the same town all their life – some in the same house they grew up in.  It would be nice, I have thought, to live where you know everyone and have friends from grade school.

But, then I realize I must have gypsy blood because as I think about that – I can’t imagine how boring that must be.  To see the same sights year after year, to never know what is just over that hill or around that corner.

My life may have been a little chaotic at times, but it has never been boring.

Even when we travel we love to just get in our car headed in a general direction and stop whenever we see something that looks interesting.  While moving around and always be the new person means I may not have a multitude of friends wherever I am currently living, I imagine heaven will be great because I already will know so many people I have befriended over the years.

Wandering keeps me interested – and hopefully interesting.

“Not all who wander are lost.”  – J.R.R. Tolkien

“Adventure may hurt you but monotony will kill you.

“A ship in a harbor is safe, but it not what ships are built for.”  – John A Shedd

“Two roads diverged in a wood and I – I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference” – Robert Frost

So – hopefully this is my last move until the final one to my forever home.

But who knows?

As the Greek philosopher, Heraclitus said:

“change is the only constant in life.”  

Döstädning – Death Cleaning

When I wrote this post I was only thinking about downsizing to make life a little easier. I had no idea that it would really pay off when we moved several months later – not just to a new home, but to a new state. I recently read statistics compiled by The SpareFoot Storage Beat that were amazing: there are between 45,000 to 52,000 self-storage units in the USA – much more than there are McDonald’s or Starbucks stores. The annual revenue for the industry is $38 million. Almost 10% of households rent a self-storage unit. BecomingMinimalist.com shares that 65 pounds of clothing are thrown away annually by typical Americans. Having less is proving less stress for me!

Grandma's Ramblings

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I have been “death cleaning” but did not realize it!

Over the years I have watched my friends fret as they anticipated turning 30, 40, 50 or 60.  I never understood why they got so up tight.  To me those milestones were just another birthday.

But this spring I turn 70 and that is a milestone I find hard to accept.

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70 – I can no longer count myself in the middle age group.  I’m old!

Thinking about this milestone in my life I have found myself looking around at all my “stuff” accumulated over the years and suddenly it just seems like too much “stuff.”  I have had an irresistible urge to clean house – to declutter.

While I certainly expect to live many more years I have looked around and thought:

Why am I hanging on to stuff I no longer need, want or use?

Why leave all…

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