A Milestone Birthday

On May 23 I celebrated my 75th birthday.
You can see me above at 16 (I'm on the right,pretending to be sexy), center as I am today, and right my birthday cake.
Back then we wore poodle skirts, penny loafers and socks, danced to slow songs like "You Belong to Me," and "Too Young," drove in un-airconditioned cars, watched wrestling on our family's first TVs, drooled over movies with Van Johnson, typed on old Smith Corona typewriters, dreamed of marrying and living happily ever after in a house with a white picket fence. What did we know?
Now we're wired to the internet, bluetooth, Iphones, Ipads, and anything else technological. We watch over 100 channels, get movies on demand, watch our grandkids on YouTube, connect with friends on Facebook or blogs, worry about the economy, the oil spill in the Gulf. We've learned that life isn't all roses and white picket fences but we can get through it. We've had our triumphs and tragedies and hope to keep going and growing.

Quote for the Week

MAYA ANGELOU

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...
enough
money within her control to move out
and rent a place of her own,
even if she never wants to or needs to...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...
something perfect to wear
if the employer, or date of her dreams
wants to see her in an hour...

A WOMAN SHOULD
HAVE .
a youth she's content to leave behind....

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE .
a past
juicy enough that she's looking forward
to retelling it in her old age....

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...
a set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill, and...
a black lace bra...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ..
one friend who always makes her laugh..
and one who lets her cry...

A WOMAN SHOU LD HAVE ...
a good piece of furniture
not previously owned by anyone else in her family...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ..
eight matching plates, wine glasses with stems,
and a recipe for a meal,
that will make her guests feel honored...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
a feeling of control
over her destiny..

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD
KNOW...
how to fall in love
without losing herself..

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
how to quit a job,
break up with a lover,
and confront a friend,
without ruining the friendship...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
when to try harder...
and WHEN TO WALK AWAY...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
that she can't change the length of her calves,
the width of her hips, or the nature of her parents..

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
that her childhood may not have been perfect...
but it's over...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
what she would and wouldn't do...
for love or more...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW....
how to live alone...
even if she doesn't like it...

EVERY
WOMAN SHOULD KNOW.. .
whom she can trust,
whom she can't,
and why she shouldn't take it personally...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
where to go...
be it to her best friend's kitchen table..
or a charming Inn in the woods....
when her soul needs soothing...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW..
What she can and can't accomplish in a day...
a month... and a year...

Widowhood as Rebirth

William May, professor of ethics at Southern Methodist University, says the following: "Traditional socieites did not view life as a straight line, bounded on one side by birth and on the far side by death. Rather death (and birth) intersected the line throughout. Periodically, men and women in traditional societies experienced the coming to an end of life as it was. They had to doff the identity which was theirs, suffer a perilous period of transition, until they entered a new estate, defined by a new identity, a new pattern of life, and accession to a new power. Birth, naming, initiation, marriage, sickness and recovery, the start and end of a long journey, the outbreak of war and conclusion of peace, death and burial are all points of contact between Power and life. One interprets them inadequately as mere events. They entail rites of detachment from the past, rites of transition across a period of acute vulnerability, and rites of incorporation into a new estate."

In all May's long list of transitions, I wonder why he doesn't mention widowhood. Those of us who have crossed the abyss that lies between wife and widow know only too well the pain of that transition.

My husband's death was expected, but even then, when it happened, it seemed unreal. We have rituals for death, and they help to mark what May calls an intersection, but what rituals do we have as we creep through the middle period, feeling as if we're crawling through a field of nettles? We can mark one month, the first Christmas without him, the anniversary of his death, but they seem to hurt rather than help. I remember bursting into tears at the bank as I tried to deal with changing accounts, yelling at the post office lady after I surrendered the key to the post office box and she refused to give me access to the mail until I produced the death certficate. She was following the rules but I had no patience for rules right then.
The only ritual I was able to contruct was listening to my husband's voice on the answering machine at midnight on New Years Eve.

May reminds us that with courage and determination, we can pass through that period of vulnerability and come out on the other side with a new identity. Would we choose this trnsition? Of course not. Is the pain worth it? No. But we can take comfort from knowing that we can achieve new life, even if it's not the one we wished for. I think I'm accomplishing that. Nowadays I think of myself as a "person," still growing, still searching, but whole within myself.

As we achieve our new identiies, we can still keep the memories of our former life in our hearts and cherish them.

Quote for the Week

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice --
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do --
determined to save
the only life you could save.


~ Mary Oliver ~

(Dream Work)

Mother's Day

On this day I'm thankful for my children and grandchildren. I'm proud of them and grateful to them. Over the past years they've been a source of comfort, advice, and enjoyment. They've encouraged me to become more independent, though they've never hesitated to give advice when it's requested and when it's not. They've kept me from being lonely and made me laugh. Lori is my gardening guru, my cat feeder and adviser, and the keeper of Ralph's legacy. Michael is the healer of my computer, the giver of practical suggestions, and my picture hanger/filter changer. Marco, my grandson, now in college, has grown to be a handsome, respoonsbile young man, and Gabriella is my joy and my delight.

Happy Mother's Day to mothers and grandmothers everywhere.

Quote for the Week

Many people will walk in and out of your life, but only true friends will leave footprints in your heart.

Numbering my Satur-days

A couple of years ago I received an e-mail with a story--you know, one of those inspirational tales that travels endlessly around the Internet like the story of the Ancient Mariner. Usually, I delete them, but this one got my attention.

It was about a man who figures out that if you live to be 75, you will have spent 3900 Saturdays. He goes to a toy store and buys enough marbles to equal the Saturdays he has left to live, puts the marbles in a jar and takes out one each week to remind him that life is fleeting and he should make the most of it.


The idea intrigued me. Loss has taught me both the fragility and the beauty of life. I want to live the remainder of my days mindfully and joyfully.

Why not emulate the marble-counting fellow in the story, I thought. But, is 75 the cutoff age? True, it's longer than the biblical three score and ten, but for me it didn't seem long enough. Should I guesstimate how many Saturdays I had left? No, I decided I'd look up the date of my impending demise on www.deathclock.com.

I visited the website and learned I'm going to live to be 79. Yay!

You may wonder how this mysterious website calculates one's end. Apparently they use some sort of actuarial table. I mentioned the site to a friend who is eleven days older than I am; she looked up her date of death ande found it was exactly eleven days before mine. I was disappointed. I'd expected something more...supernatural, I guess.

At any rate, armed with my final date, I calculated 338 Saturdays left.

I didn't especially want to invest in 300 plus marbles, so I bought a bag of M&M's. I figured it would be more fun to eat away my Saturdays than to discard a marble every week.

So each Saturday I nibble one candy and remember how thankful I am for another week of life and health, and I promise myself I won't waste a second of the time I have left.