Into the Woods

 Almost 50 years ago,  I moved from a busy city neighborhood where I lived next to a bustling elementary school out unto what seemed like a wilderness. It was a choice my husband and I made and as I look back now, I have no regrets. But, there were many times during the nine years we lived in the boondocks that I questioned the wisdom of our decision. We had a nice home in the city that we’d just spent thousands of dollars renovating. I was just a few minutes away from the school where I taught sixth grade and my husband just had a short distance to his primary job. So why on Earth did we decide to move out into the middle of nowhere you may wonder? In January of 1975, we had our first child together. As the early days of motherhood moved towards Spring, I came to realize that I did not want to return to teaching school in the Fall. But, how could we afford to live and support my husband’s other four children? The answer came around Mother’s Day when we learned that the couple managing the Duck Island Hunting Club were moving out and the owners were looking for another couple willing to take on the job. My husband contacted the primary owner and we interviewed with him and another owner. My husband, Ken, had worked at the club and he knew the whole operation. We had an inside track. We accepted the job because it would allow me to be home with our baby and it also happened to be my husband’s dream job. 

The first time I visited the place where we were to live, I was overwhelmed, to say the least. The entry road, if you could call it a road, was behind a gate and led along the River for about 3 miles to the clubhouse and other buildings. The caretaker’s house was last building on the left, set up on a berm. This house had been built before there was electricity or indoor plumbing so as they added those amenities, they were very visible for the eye to see. The wires ran up the walls, there were electric heaters on the walls of each room and the plumbing pipes and drains ran across the kitchen ceiling with the water heater sitting along the wall in the kitchen! And the road itself was treacherous. It was muddy and full of ruts. Only four-wheel drive vehicles could traverse it. The water was from a deep aquifer but it was full of iron. It left a rusty stain on all the porcelain fixtures and turned the coffee BLACK! 

We convinced the owners to invest in a water treatment system and even split the cost. They agreed to have the road built up and graveled so it was more accessible. We had the living room and dining room carpeted and the whole inside painted. My dad put a fence around the pot-bellied stove in the living room so the baby would have some protection. We sold our home and moved into the duck club in July. A few days after our move, a tornado hit a nearby town and took out a half dozen telephone poles that supplies electricity to our area. Because everything at the duck club ran on electricity, we ended up back at the home we’d sold for a few days until our power was restored. Not an auspicious start. 

But, by fall, we’d worked out the arrangements for my step-son to attend the local high school and for the school bus to pick him up near the gate that led to the caretaker’s house. My 18 yrs old cousin came to stay with us to help me with cooking and cleaning during the duck hunting season. And so it began. I have so many stories that I can tell about the next nine years until we moved out and put up our home in a little village nearby. Perhaps I will add to this in the future. But, for now, I will end by saying that you never know what you are capable of doing until you give it a go. 

Five more years have elapsed

 In just over two weeks, I’ll be turning 75 years of age. I started this blog when I was turning 60. So much has happened in the past 15 years.. I guess that’s how life works. I’m glad that I’m still here and I appreciate life even more than I did at 60. I wasn’t  retired then. Now, I look back and wonder how I got everything done while I was a working woman. Now, my work is to embrace uncertainty. Change is constant and nothing remains the same forever. Those of us who thrive will learn to go with the flow and make the very best of whatever the day brings our way. I guess the most important lesson that I’ve  learned since turning 60 is that everything can change in an instant. Life is very fragile and it’s wise to cherish each moment that we have. 

It’s been Ten Years

When I started this blog ten years ago, I’d just been through a difficult year. My mother had died in late 2007 and my daughter-in-law got diagnosed with breast cancer on December 31, 2007. Most of early 2008 was spent traveling to where she and my son and baby granddaughter lived. I made twelve trips between January and July. I cooked and cleaned and tended to the baby while my DIL recovered from a double mastectomy and chemotherapy treatments.

While this was going on, my husband was in the end stages of renal failure. In these last ten years, he’s gone on kidney dialysis, gotten a kidney transplant, had two cervical fusion surgeries and broken his back. Through it all, I’ve been the caregiver.

I’m very grateful that I’m healthy and strong. Stronger than I ever knew. My baby granddaughter started having seizures when she was 18 months old and has been under treatment for epilepsy since then. My son had problems with addiction during his wife’s trauma with breast cancer and he finally went to inpatient treatment. Now, he’s sober, has completed graduate school and started a new job as a school counselor.

Sadly, he and his wife divorced. But, they have both re-married to very wonderful people and are teaming up to do a wonderful job parenting my granddaughter.

So much has happened as I reflect on these past ten years. My middle son has gotten married, had three children and bought a home. My youngest son’s wife had a bleed-out stroke the day my husband came home from the hospital after having kidney transplant. We almost lost her. But, amazingly, she survived, finished her undergraduate degree, got a Master’s degree and had a second baby. Now, she’s pregnant with my seventh grandchild.

I truly believe that everything happens for a reason. We may or may not figure it out. Why do young women get breast cancer or babies suffer epilepsy or young women have strokes? Yet, we’ve all learned many things through these experiences, not the least of which is that we are stronger than we think.

Sexual Harassment - My Story

As a young bride, I took a job babysitting one Saturday evening. My husband was working that evening. When the woman came home and paid me, I left for my apartment. I noticed a car was staying even with mine in the lane next to me. If I slowed down, so did the other driver. If I sped up, so did he. I was scared. It was close to midnight. I tried to figure out what to do. As I neared the turn to reach my apartment, I decided to abruptly turn without signaling or slowing. It worked briefly as the other driver had to go down to another block to turn. That gave me enough time to get into my drive and inside the door to our duplex apartment. I called to my husband who'd just gotten home. The man in the other car had found my car and was idling in the middle of the street. My husband took my keys and ran to our car. The other guy took off with my husband in pursuit. I waited at our apartment for what seemed like forever. (No cell phones back then.) When my husband returned, he told me that as he was following the man, he saw a police car and he flashed his headlights to catch the policeman's attention. Eventually, the cop pulled over the other driver. My husband pulled over and confronted the man. He told the cop and my husband that he thought I was the lady I had babysat for and that she was trying to ditch him. My husband saw the man's ID and told me his name. He was a teacher and powerful union member in our community. So it was a case of mistaken identity. But, it still was a very scary experience.

My second story was truly a story of a powerful man who used his position to try to seduce me. He was my principal and I was a first year teacher. He called me into his office one day. I thought we were discussing my upcoming evaluation. But, no, not this time. This time he wanted to tell me about the dreams he was having about me. I told him I didn't want to hear about his dreams but if he really wanted to tell me, I'd need to have my husband present. I guess that was a good response because he didn't pursue it again. But, later that year his wife who also worked in our building accused me and another first year teacher of having interest in her husband.

Men who have power often feel they can do what they want. They use their positions to intimidate people who don't have the same level of authority.

Facing the Future

I've studied human growth and development and I know that I'm in Ericson's life stage Ego integrity vs. despair. Soon, I'll be turning 67. Right now, I am well. I usually don't feel old. But, I'm married to a man who is 10 years older than I. In the past 10 years, he's had 4 surgeries and dealt will having to undergo kidney dialysis. I've watched him go from a healthy, vibrant man who walked 4 miles a day and did yoga to a frail, old man who must use a walker to safely cross the room.  Right before my eyes, he's gone from a muscular 180 lbs. to a pitiful 135 lbs. If tried my best to help him through his trials. I know he's grateful to have me. We've been together 46 years!

I see the widows at church, sitting alone in their pews. I think to myself, I won't go back and sit like they do. Facing the future when one is no longer young requires courage, I think. While none of us knows what lies around the next bend, those of us who are the elders have a pretty good idea that it isn't going to be fun and games.

Right now, I'm close at hand to tend to the needs of my husband. But, I have my escape handy. I am so thankful for the Internet. It helps me so much. I can go there and meet new people, yet be physically present to dispense the medications and take care of our daily needs. I've met some wonderful people and made some dear friends on Twitter and Facebook.

So, right now, I'll face the future by being present for my husband, my family, and myself.

Still at the Foot of the Mountain

When something bad happened in my family many years ago, my dear friend Linda told me that it was like standing at the foot of a mountain. The problem was like the mountain and seemed insurmountable in the immediate moment. Time from the problem was like distance moving away from the mountain. As time elapsed, the problem would seem more manageable, much like the mountain viewed from afar doesn't seem so daunting.

Since that time, I've used my friend's analogy to help me get past several other issues and I've shared the imagery with others. It has been very helpful in the past.

This March, after a lovely two week vacation in Florida, I came home to the news that my daughter-in-law was going to do a 12 week internship in far away New Mexico and that my two grandchildren were going along. As the news sunk in, I struggled to keep a smile on my face. On the one had, I was so very proud of her! She'd come so far from the high school dropout that I'd first met 13 years ago. Now, she was going back to her homeland, the Mescalero Apache reservation, to complete a paid internship for her Masters' degree! In between, she'd had my first grandchild and suffered a life-threatening bleed out in her brain. What a fine example she is for her children and for anyone on her reservation!

Yet, everyday, my heart breaks anew as I see something that causes me to think of them. I put away the puppets that my granddaughter and I used for our puppet shows. It pained me too much to see them. Yesterday, I noticed the Wii controls and game lying where she'd left them by the TV the last time we played. The tears welled up again.

Now, it seems that my son may eventually join them and they won't be coming back. How will I stand it? Today, I thought about the holidays and trying to make it without them. It hurts so much. Yet. I should not be feeling so sad. It's not like anyone's died. I can see them via technology when we do Google Hangouts! It is a bitter consolation. Seeing isn't the same as being together. Yet, it's better than texting, I guess.

Coping with change is the task we all must master. Change brings loss and loss brings grief. We know that grief has stages and is complex and unique to each individual. I want to get away from the foot of the mountain. I really do.

Here's my plan. I'm going to work on several areas of my life that I can control. I'm going to exercise more. I'm going to meditate again. I'm going to read more fiction. And, I'm going to smile again. Really!

Mrs. Duggins

Grace Duggins was a feisty old lady. I was kind of scared of her. She was a friend of my dad and step-mother. A widow, she lived alone. Her only child, a son named Bernard, lived in Hong Kong. Grace (I would never have called her that back then) taught piano lessons out of her home. She much preferred teaching boys as she said girls were just too silly. I was a teenager when I met her. She fascinated me. She was independent and out spoken. If she thought you were full of poppy cock, she didn't mince words telling you so. I remember thinking how cool it was that she seemed perfectly fine without a man. As a young teenage girl, all I could think about was getting one. After Kenny and I got married, Mrs. Duggins gave me a black half-slip. I can't remember why she did it. Perhaps I mentioned needing one. More likely, she caught a glimpse of my legs through my skirt when I was wandering around without a slip. That wouldn't do at all; so she presented me with the slip. Now if you ever want someone to think about you, give them something they will wear often. Every time I put on that slip, I thought of her. She lived on her own well into her 90's and drove herself out to a country church to play the piano. Although she is gone now, I still have her gift  in my lingerie drawer.