Back to Normal, For Today

There is absolutely no reason for this photo in this post except that I like it.

Aging is a beautiful natural process, the wisdom gained, the growing sense of gratitude, the amusement of seeing young people make your same dumb mistakes, but one thing that bothers me is the difficulty of putting on underpants while standing and not leaning against a doorpost. - Garrison Keillor

The Christmas decorations are in the attic, Blue Boy back at school. The return to routine should be welcomed, but I hesitate. Today, as news of the recent death of a first cousin reached me, another cousin is entering hospice. Time passing means lives passing, in disability or death.

Not to be morbid or hopeless. This is life. I recall my mother sharing that it wasn’t difficult to make friends in a  retirement home; it was difficult keeping them. People leave, often without forewarning. They are sent to the hospital never to return. Or die in their apartment. Or transfer to another facility or a family home. Because of privacy laws, the administration refuses to share any news with the residents. Most often, the families don’t consider the friends at the retirement community, don’t think to return and explain what has happened.

(We were careful to notify the facility when Mom died, instructing them to share the news with anyone who asked. We also sent news to everyone on her Christmas card list.)

I didn’t intend to write about death, but my cousin entering hospice is weighing on me. Four years ahead of me, he had grown up in a house across the street. I have known him longer than I’ve known my sister. He and my older brother were close; his sister’s age put her between my sister and me, so she was friends with both of us. The Pfeiffs of 8^th Avenue; we were practically one family.

A new normal. How does one adjust when normal changes day to day? In the winter of life, one must appreciate each minute. People patronizingly remind us that no one knows how much time they have. But we oldsters know we can expect less than a 50-year-old. We are running out of time, energy, physical agility, and cognitive sharpness. And everyone and everything around us reminds us of that.

A new year, a new outlook? My friends and I laugh at our foibles and at the behavior of younger people toward us, knowing that one day, they will experience the same challenges. We forgive ourselves and our spouses. We mellow. Garrison Keillor expresses it better than I and with more humor; check out his columns at https://www.garrisonkeillor.com/writing/. It is much more fun than doomscrolling.