Have You Seen a Blessing Today?

A friend proposed this thought to me. Have you been a blessing or seen a blessing or been a blessing to anyone today? Well, maybe. I've prayed for some and thought about some. Maybe there was a blessing in there somewhere. I got blessed today by someone else who shared and loved and included me.

Now I get to remind people who read this that these blessings are all around us everyday and all we need to do is accept them. The work is already done. All that's left is just to receive and be thankful. Thank the one who blessed you and thank God for that one and pass it on. If you don't see a blessing in your life, then you get to start the chain. Bless someone else and start the ball rolling. How they pass it on is their opportunity to participate. Be a blessing to someone today!

Cheer Up!

I'm old now so I thought I'd try to modify my posts to accommodate my strength and endurance. I can write more if I make them shorter and less taxing on this old mind and body. Here goes:
Cheer Up! For Heaven's sake, quit being so negative. Look on the bright side. There is bound to be a good attitude in there some where. Do you remember being 30? That was a great time. Still had a lot to do. Kids were growing up. There were things to accomplish. We had some great times. Now I remember them with joy.

What about 50? It was good too. I was more settled. But I had a new job, and I enjoyed it, too. Kids were doing good. Frank was well. Yeah like Sinatra said, "That was a very good year,"

70? Well it wasn't bad. I made it through. We did have some tough times, but we made it. We did what we had to. All in all, I've had a good run.

Going on 80. Getting real close, but I'm still having fun, still know who I am and what my goal is and still making the effort. Cheer Up! The end is just ahead, and it looks like I'm gonna make it.

Do You Have This Problem?

It's Your Move (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My birthday is next week and I may change my opinion that getting older necessarily means getting better. I notice more chinks in my memory lately, and a lot of wobbling, stumbling, and halting. About the only thing that I still claim to find improvement in is caring and concern. I am more sensitive to emotions and value insights and understanding more now than I ever have before.

I continue to remember people and incidents from my past with alarming detail, mostly things that would cause me distress or embarrassment. Many of these momentary flashes are from my childhood. I often view myself as a clumsy or inept child. The memory belies my parents' stories of my intelligence, but it just as often, causes me to appreciate them and their love for me. 

I remember the houses that were important: Grandmother's house, Auntie's house, the house we lived in, the neighbors' houses. I remember the features that were extravagant to my mind, like stairs, or porches, or windows. It's amazing that now those features are no big deal, but then they were remarkable.

I remember some of those houses, as I grew up, lost much of their charm. When they began to decline or needed a paint job, my thrill and regard for them declined, too. I'm not sure whether it was the decline of the house or my expanding idea of what was good or exciting. Maybe that's just the way life is.

Learning The Old Lessons Over

The title of this blog is damning. Just because I'm getting older doesn't mean I'm getting better. It sometimes means I've learned new stuff or found a new obsession or formed a new habit, but nothing in that means I'm actually better. It's my goal to improve as I age, and that is what I expect. That it's happening is yet to be realized.

Maybe I'm just resigned to the whole process, and acceptance is the best I can hope for. Maybe not. Sometimes I get a new grip on the rope. This week I've been reading literature for writers and reviewing the lessons I learned 40 or 50 years ago, and some of it sets something on fire in my mind or soul. Maybe there's time to get better yet.

At least I have a new yearning to write better and more, to be consistent, to be precise and do it better. I guess the proof will come when I follow through.  

Winding Down

Dr Pepper bottle (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Getting older is getting better again. I went to the doctor and got very good news. I'll get my last mammogram this week! I don't know why I resented that thing so much. I just knew that was not a problem that affects me, and I hated to do it. The doctor said that the recommendations have been revised and seventy five is now the new cut-off. She even gave me the option of not doing it this time, but with the promise of no-more, I'll give it a grand good-bye. 

I also got more good news: My blood work showed that I have very good control of my A1C. If you have diabetes, this is the one that promises that you blood sugar is not destroying your kidneys and you retina. I'd really like to keep those parts that help me stay independent and active.

I was also very glad that the A1C also showed the reason for a good reading on the cholesterol and triglycerides. I have recently given up bread and Dr. Pepper. I assume the dietary changes are being reflected in my numbers. It's a good thing because I couldn't deal with the side effects of the medication. Maybe I shouldn't say I gave them up. I don't keep a stash of Dr. Pepper in the cabinet and rarely eat bread. I can drink a DP when we go out and I can still have a piece of toast with my eggs now and then, so it's not like I'm deprived.

In other areas I'm also getting better as I get older. I'm alone most of the time, but I have made some friends at church and I go to Bible study on Thursday. I spend some time in prayer every day. I eat breakfast with my kids that live here on Sunday morning. My income is reduced which prompts me to be more careful with money and do a better job with my budget.

I read new poets and get a wider exposure to artistic and intellectual pursuits. At least I'm learning new names and forms. I don't really like some of those forms, but it's good for me to understand them. I'm not at all sure that learning new things keeps me young, but it does keep me abreast of what's going on. I don't really like to be considered the East Texas red-neck hick, though that is essentially what I am. Small town-back woods girl come to the Valley late in life, just here to wind down. This is true, but I want to have fun in the process.

On Going Home

English: After the hedge-cutter. The lane from Newton Valence to Selborne (Gracious Street when it reaches Selborne) just after a visit by the hedge-cutter. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I went home to visit most of my kids last week. It was really good to see them. I do love them, but going to see them is hard. First it costs money for the plane ticket. Then I have to be housed and fed. There is also a real problem with deciding who to stay with and how to use the time. I'm usually pretty sure they don't want their schedules disrupted by my visit, even though they are gracious.
I get the feeling sometimes that I'm not understanding the messages. They want to see me, but they don't know what to do with me. I'm not relevant to their lives in the way I was before. It's sort of the same with me. I don't really have any command of their lives or play a defining role in the day to day business of life.

We shared the old memories and laughed about old jokes, but the new and future things are built around their children and their jobs. It made me sad that I'm no longer included.

Perspectives on Getting Old

English: Betty White at the premiere for The Proposal (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

On the subject of "Getting Old," everybody is an expert. No matter what your age is, you are growing older everyday. Even if you don't qualify as old now, you are still headed in that direction. You have preconceptions about what it means to get old and you have anxiety about how your body and your brain will make the transition to "old."

The advertising world is thrilled with it. The commercials for anti-aging creams and face-lifts reveals the staunch army of people ready to help you defy the aging that is already happening. There was a notable French woman who lived to be 122. Betty White at 92 gamely pushes on. I really enjoyed her show called "Off their Rockers" with a large cast of old people who hoaxed younger and more gullible people on camera. I'm sure the poor victims were adequately compensated. But it was fun to watch the old folks get one over on the younger, more able generation. It's wonderful to see the collapse of confidence and arrogance in the younger more vibrant target when the old codgers and old biddies got away with the trick. 

Does getting old make you mean and cantankerous? Maybe. Maybe just occasionally when you need to remember that once you gave old people the short end of the stick and discounted them as having a voice and feelings. Maybe helping old people to reclaim their value and dignity is a worthwhile endeavor.