Tribute to Jim Griffin

Jim Griffin died yesterday morning. I’ve known Jim and Lou for over 15 years, maybe 20. He was my Sunday school teacher for several years during that time. He was honest, gentle, and compassionate. I’m sorry the world no longer has his grace and wisdom. But I’m glad I knew him. I’m glad there are still people here than benefited from his grace and wisdom. I’m glad we were enriched by him. I hope Heaven has a portal for him to view the River in Judea.

Not Everything Is Getting Better

I really value the things that getting older has taught me. I really do believe that I'm a better person now than I was when I was younger. I really do make a better critic, and I really do enjoy life more.

But there are aspects of life that suffer with the aging process. My balance is going down the drain as I sit at the computer. My vision is getting worse every day. My hearing is probably going in the same direction, but it ain't over till it's over. I still have new projects, although some of them may be a rehash of old ones; I still make new friends, even though the activities we engage in may have shifted.

Forgiveness has become more primary to my life and my memories;  I have found the vehemence I felt toward people I used to dislike has faded, and it is easier to consign those who insult me to the providence of payback. 

One of the primary benefits of getting old is finding the things that are improving and adjusting for those that are getting worse. By and large, the things that are deteriorating are physical things and the those that depend of mental and emotional resources are improving. I think I can handle this. My brain is still making connections and my soul is expanding daily. I love to find the things I do better, and I get over the things I can't do anymore. Or I give my daughter and granddaughter a chance to show what they can do. I am still getting better as I get older. You too! Let's celebrate! 

Side Effects Did It!

I have reconciled myself to the fact I am getting older. Getting older is not bad. Getting feeble, being weak, not being able to walk: these are bad things. And I feel them happening even as I am denying the reality. I stagger when I walk. I can't walk in a straight line anymore. I have begun to use the fitness machines in the exercise room. My logic is that I need to strengthen my legs, but I'm afraid my logic is faulty. 

I'm afraid I have suffered a TIA. It was not a big deal, but it has compromised my ability to walk and maintain my balance. It passed very quickly, but it has left me with some impairments. I think it's all physical. I don't notice any difference in my thinking, comprehension, or reasoning. Of course, if I had damage in those areas, I might not be aware enough to make a good evaluation.

I don't think there is any treatment for this kind of thing. I will see the doctor soon. I can blame it all on the commercials on TV. The vast array of side effects from medication are a sort of safety net to catch all the blame for all kinds of symptoms. It may not be true, but that's what I'm going with now.

What's a TIA?

I had an incident this week. I think it is one of those things they refer to as a TIA. No, I didn't call an ambulance or go to the ER. I did not have the classic signs relating to facial drooping, speech disruption, or weakness in hands or arms. My only symptom was a weakness in my right knee. My knee pops when I try to straighten it or stand on it. My foot also sometimes drags on the floor; this makes me stumble. 

I had problem with it a year or two ago and mentioned it to the doctor. He ordered a brain scan or MRI. I don't know if this is the same thing but it did reveal that my brain has been doing this for a while. I guess it still is. The doctor was very reassuring when he said that I did still have a brain, and there weren't any signs that it was shutting down. 

I did read up on TIA's just for fun. The article said I should respond to it as if it were a stroke because it may be a warning sign of a more lasting event within the near future. I will remember to take my aspirin and be active and practice my walking. It seems that training my brain is a very effective way to restore lost function. Walk straight and pick up my feet and avoid the stumbling. And I'll tell the doctor at my next appointment.

Watercolor Is Hard

My Watercolor Painting (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Watercolor is a difficult artistic medium. My friend who tries so hard to teach me the finer points of painting with watercolor is fighting a losing battle. I am not now, nor have I ever had artistic inspiration. I love to view good painting; I even love to understand the finer points of it's creation, but I'm not able to create it.

The fluid lines my friend creates with the sweep of a brush become blobs in my hand. I had a problem with leaving the glaze alone to let it flow and develop on it's own. She assures me this is where you let the water do the work. Under her brush it develops interesting designs as it dries. Under mine, it just dries.

I'll stick to writing, sometimes poetry, but always with words and metaphors, never with brushes and paints. I do go to the class and learn something, but I have no illusions about my creations. They are mostly a study in what not to do. My friend is dedicated and helpful, and I can't let her work so hard without trying to reward her for her efforts. No, I'll never be a painter, but don't tell her I said so. She deserves to see my  best effort even though I know it useless. I love her for her optimism. She thinks she can find the artist in there somewhere and coax her to come out.

A Bad Week

A week ago today a friend died. I found it a little traumatic although I've only know her since I moved to "the home." She had lived here for quite a while and seemed better adjusted to the situation and the limitations than me. I'll miss her. She knew who everybody was and could help me know who got along with whom and where everyone was from and what they did before they moved here. I'm coming up on my first year anniversary, so I ought to be able to manage from here, but even with a year under my belt, I'll miss Judy laugh and her joy and her philosophy. 

Another friend had an accident and broke his leg. Fred is not a friend I talk to a lot because he cannot hear. Sometimes I write notes to him which relieves the tension of trying to make him hear. I often sit with him in silence because I don't want to embarrass him or frustrate him. He was a physicist and taught at Pan Am University. I would love to get him to expound on physics and hear his take on Hawking and Dark Matter. 

Tomorrow I will try to go to the hospital and sit with him for a while and let his daughter get a break. Today at the memorial for Judi I read some poetry. It helped me find meaning in the loss of my friend. I hope I find meaning in Fred's difficulty too. Maybe it will help relieve my guilt at feeling so helpless in the face of his need. 
                  

The Study of Adult Development

Marcus Tullius Cicero, after whom Teuffel named his Ciceronian period of the Golden Age. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

An acquaintance here at "the home" has tried to establish a book review club and invited me to participate. I agreed to give a book review in August. I thought that would give me time to prepare if I couldn't get out of it. The other side of that is it will give me the opportunity to talk about something that has been enlightening to me. I love the study of Adult Development--a relatively new area in the field of psychology. Child Development has been around for a hundred years or so, but nobody took a look at how adults develop beyond maturity at around 20 until almost the middle of the 20th century.

There have been a few people who commented on aging and developmental concepts like Cicero's De Senectute  and the Bible in various places,  but it wasn't backed up by any data or scientific records until the results of the Grant Study published in 1977 in George Vaillant's book Adaptation to Life.  One well-known book based on the study was Passages by Gail Sheehy, but her book was sort of pirated from the study. The Grant Study participants were exclusively male sophomore students at Harvard University. The author applied results to women, however, at the time the study was conducted, women were not questioned, interviewed, or followed.  


When the study was conducted, women were not big participants in the workplace. Their lives were not comparable to the men in the study. Daniel Levinson did write a developmental study of women's lives called Season's of a Woman's Life after he wrote Season's of a Man's Life. He dealt with some of the differences in the lives of men and women. It seemed that Sheehy applied the results of the Grant Study to women without the integrity of using women as a base of investigation.

The results are becoming more universally accepted as education and employment have become more equally accessed by men and women. I found the study of Adult Development fascinating. It has provided me with anticipation as I age. There are still summits to climb and battles to fight. Getting old has been saddled with a bad rap. Lets don't give up till it over.