VIEW FROM THE SENIOR PENTHOUSE

           Sunny, fortyish Friday that somehow feels like Saturday!  New “Trial” resident next door to me, whom I will “orientate” later today.  Funny, here’s me showing someone else around like I know the place.  But then, I DO know most of “the place”.   

           I’m starting my third month here at an independent living facility in the northwest area of Chicago near O’Hare Airport. From my sweet efficiency apartment on the sixth floor, I can see all the planes leaving and arriving, the many spectacular sunsets, the now winter-bare trees decorating this sixteen acres, the walkways with their accommodating benches scattered throughout, the sweet grotto (this was founded by a religious order). There is greenery from every window throughout the four buildings, a plus which I wanted when I moved here on Oct. 1^st.

           I had been a renter for years, so I did not have an excess of money to initially invest in such a facility, and a monthly fixed income that was definitely not lavish. I felt so blessed that I could find an affordable place to live, with a lovely apartment, one main (and delicious) meal per day, security, activities, medical accessibility (a major hospital mere minutes away). I researched this past summer, saw it, loved it, and moved in within a few whirlwind months. The apartment I chose was beautifully upgraded with the loveliest kitchen that I would rarely use!

           I’ve not walked around the grounds, or attended Chapel services, but I’ve dipped my toe into several activities and have been in most of the main meeting rooms and venues. Somewhere around my third week, things began to “click”.  It was the day of the Book Club, when I went with Carol to the Menu Planning meeting and met Gina Woods.

           That was October 21^st, three weeks exactly from my move-in date of October 1st, when I met Gina, exchanged phone numbers, and talked about Canasta.  One evening later, when I took Rita (a new resident on our floor) down to supper, Doris seated us with Gina and Ginny---and the rest, as they say, is history.  I began eating with the Building A Gang, have played Canasta with them, attended Town Hall meetings and many musical events with them.

           We bring wine and small snacks to these musical events, and sit on the right side of the Blue Room to enjoy the shows.  I’ve enjoyed the classical events much more than the Irish music show.  The Magician was also fun.  Gina seems to want me to attend all the shows with equal enthusiasm, which of course makes me want to react in a contrarily. (I’m funny that way!)

           I’m much more comfortable with my Floor Rep position now.  It began when Rita reached out to me, needing help.  Since then, I’ve been to one Floor Rep meeting, have decorated our “Living Room” center area, put out a Suggestion Box, and am planning a small Holiday meeting.  I asked for my residents to vote on available days of the week for them.

           From the four votes I received (out of nine residents), and including my preference, I’m choosing Wednesday December 15^th at 11:00 am for our first “Monthly Meet”.  I will propose to them at this Holiday time meet that we choose the second or third Wednesday of the month to keep repeating a get-together.  We can honor any birthdays that month when we congregate.

           I haven’t worked out any agenda or activity for this first meeting.  No refreshments other than bringing their own beverage, and a snack if they wish.
(Maybe I should bring something—Popcorn???),

    Peace SEEMS to be again restored on the lovely sixth floor of Building D.

 <<<<< Stay tuned for further adventures! >>>>>>

 

OUR HEARTS ARE RESTLESS--

       Niki helped me sort out my journals stopped and started over the years, beginning with my 1970 journal celebrating our road trip cross-country to California and back.  It was the best road trip ever.  Dave and I drove through so many states and cities we had never seen before!  Highlights were the mountains of Colorado, the beauty of northern California, the wonderful experience of San Francisco, and so many other treats along the way.

       It still remains vivid in my mind.  It came at such a welcome juncture in my life.  I had finally finished my nightmare year at Mannheim Junior High (Sept 1969 to June 1970)….never to attempt teaching again until the fun of coordinating classes at ICLRU in Schaumburg….in 2010.

       Dave had been working night and day, every day of the week, to get his business prospering, so this was a well-needed respite for him.  Two weeks with the best traveling companion he could hope for! (I did very well with my choice of companion too.)  I became the “audiobook narrator” on the trip, reading The Naked Ape  as Dave drove.  It was the perfect arrangement---he liked driving, and I liked reading and talking.  I later explained to anyone we could tell that the car needed a stop for gas about the time my voice was giving out!

       Dave will always be my favorite traveling companion.  Despite the strong difference in our temperaments (which alas became more apparent as our married years went on), we could always trvel together well.  The many road trips with the kids were usually fine once we reached our destination. Those days in the 1980’s offered little in the way of technological entertainment for our cherubs. Games in the car (license plates, cow spotting, Twenty Questions, etc.) only offered fleeting diversions for the restless young ones.

       But oh, how I yearned for that open road—new sights, restaurants, time together, all was a welcome break from my mothering/housewife relentless role.  I could be a more carefree mother on the road! I remember driving through the beautiful Smoky Mountains of Tennessee, and just wanting to stop and stay and soak it all up….an permanently “run away from home”.

MY SO-CALLED INFECTION

       Oh my dear sweet Blog, I have been away so long. RECENT medical reason—a long hospital stay from Jan 5^th to Jan15th, the rehab at The Moorings from Jan 15^th to Jan 26th.  Three weeks in a strange existence, where I had to press a red button to get my ass wiped, or to get out of bed, or get wheeled anywhere, or get food, or water, or whatever was needed at the time.

       All those days—21 days, three weeks, where I was not in charge of my life in most any ways. I wasn’t even in charge of my thoughts during the early days of this exile!  Because of the kidney infection, I was not thinking clearly. I lost my bearings, lost time, forgot a great deal. It was frightening to me, and I wasn’t even aware of all the lapses!  My daughter Niki, aided wonderfully by my sisters Joanie and Mary Rose, helped me during those very cloudy days.  Even when I understood very little, I could see their dear faces looking with love at me, every minute of this dismal time.

       I have kept this special note which Niki wrote out for me….a paper life raft that I could use when the fog grabbed my mind:

       I have now been home since Jan 25^th.  I still don’t drive, and still use a walker, and still am a bit short of breath as I move around. ). Actually, I needed rehab just to be able to get out of bed and even start walking again! I was back to toddler status for a while.

My daughter (and lucky for me, my roommate) Niki continues her heroic help—fetches food, did laundry, and drives me everywhere, especially to the seemingly endless followup doctor visits. (I saw doctors in several specialties, because the infection affected my mind and body in many charming ways.)      

       It’s humbling and bewildering and amazing all mixed up together.  I’m still sorting it out. I’m grateful to my darling Niki, her brothers, my sisters, my daughter-in-laws, all my dear friends, who sent their support and well wishes during this time.

       I add this very important footnote: one month ago, on Feb 15^th, my Mom Rose died, after a amazing 100-year life.  She lived fully, and well, and was an amazing matriarch. It somehow showed that my health was a gift given back to me yet again, through medical means, but much more important—through the love of my family and friends.

"AND THE TREE WAS HAPPY"

It’s my grand daughter Bella’s 

birthday today---eight years old!

I remember going to the hospital

with Grandma Darlene and Grandpa Joe and little Jake

to meet the new cute Newsted lass.  

She was indeed beautiful from that first day,

with large brown eyes framed by long lashes….

and a smile that lights up the universe.

 

She loves to read, which thrills me.

 I was there when she started to sound out

those magically printed words,

 and I still delight in having her read to me.

  She called me a few weeks ago,

and said that she wanted

to read a book to me over the phone,

 because it was a part of her summer reading project.

And she picked THE GIVING TREE 

by Shel Silverstein,

 a book that I adore…

that in simple language

and sweet illustrations

presents unconditional love----

of the tree for “the boy”.  

The tree gives all she has during the boy’s life,

 answering whatever need

he had at that time in his life. 

Her branches provided recreational swinging

And shade when he was young,

And apples when he was hungry,

and later in his life,

she gave him all her branches---

and even her trunk—

for his needs as he grew older.  

After each offering,

the boy goes away with pieces of the tree,

 and “the tree was happy”.  

At the end, the “boy” is an old man,

 who can no longer chew apples or swing on branches.

   He is so tired and needs to rest…..

and the tree joyously offers what she has left---

her stump—for him to sit upon—

“and the tree was happy”.

 

Bella’s sweet voice over the phone

 reading these beloved words,

 was sheer heaven to me,

 and it will be one of my “moments”

for all eternity.  

After I kept telling her

how much I loved the book

and she had finished reading,

I asked her why she picked this book.

She said that she remembered me saying

how much the book meant to me. 

 That would have been a year before,

when she was starting to first read. 

And I discovered that my daughter Niki

had given Jake and Bella that beloved book.

“AND THE GRANDMA WAS HAPPY.”

·   ►  Preview

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ME AND MY CANE

“ME AND MY CA-ANE

STROLLING DOWN THE AVENUE..”

(to the tune "Me and My Shadow")

I’M NOT PARAPHRASING

THE REST OF THIS OLD TIMEY SONG,

BECAUSE I RARELY “CLIMB” ANY “STAIR”

 IF I CAN AVOID IT,

AND I’M RARELY

“ALL ALONE AND FEELING BLUE.”

BUT MY DECORATIVE CANE

IS LIKE MY SHADOW…

GOES EVERYWHERE WITH ME,

MY CONSTANT HELPFUL COMPANION.

HERE IT STANDS, NEAR MY FRONT DOOR,

BY MY PURSE,

READY TO COME ALONG WITH ME

AT ANY TIME,

ANYWHERE….

(ISN’T IT JUST SO CUTE?)

THIS SWEET BUDDY

HAS BEEN WALKING ALONG WITH ME

FOR OVER THREE YEARS.

(I HAD A BLAND BLACK CANE BEFORE THAT.)

BUT WHEN I FELT IT MAY BECOME

A PERMANENT ACCESSORY,

I FOUND A FINE VARIETY OF DESIGNS

ON AMAZON, MY FAVORITE

ONLINE RETAILER.

I RECENTLY CHECKED CANES ONLINE,

AND THE SELECTION HAS EXPLODED!

YOU CAN FOLD THEM,

BLING THEM WITH GLITTER,

AND CHOOSE FROM A DAZZLING ARRAY

 OF PATTERNS AND COLORS.

CANES ARE BIG BUSINESS 

IN THIS AGE OF

OF A BOOMING, 

AGING POPULATION!

I WOULD CONSIDER USING MY CANE

JUST FOR THE LUXURY

OF HAVING PEOPLE

OPEN DOORS FOR ME….

WHICH THEY DO….

ALL THE TIME…

EVERYWHERE…

IT’S VERY SWEET.

I HOPE THAT NO ONE

DECLINES THE SUPPORT

OF A DEAR CANE

BECAUSE THEY THINK 

THAT THEY WOULD APPEAR,

WELL.....

DISABLED IN SOME WAY.

WITH A CANE, YOU ARE

 ABLED,

SUPPORTED,

ENHANCED,

STRENGTHENED.

IT SHOULD NEVER BE CONSIDERED

A SYMBOL OF

WEAKNESS

OR IMPAIRMENT.

IT’S A LOVELY TOOL

WHICH I REQUIRE

IN THE OFTEN “UNSUPPORTED”

OUTSIDE WORLD.

AT HOME, I USUALLY

LEAVE THE CANE BY THE DOOR,

BECAUSE I HAVE SO MANY PLACES

 TO SUPPORT MY UNSTEADY LEGS

 (OR MIND).

YEARS AGO, GENTLEMEN SPORTED CANES

AS A SIGN OF ELEGANCE

AND STYLE…

WELL, ISN'T THERE THAT

 “ME TOO” MOVEMENT 

GOING STRONG NOW?

SO I AM WILLING,

PROUD,

 AND HAPPY

TO FACE THE WORLD…

ME AND MY CANE!