Georgia on my Mind

 

We're getting down to the wire here.


Second hardest thing I've ever done. The first stays in the vault.



My buddy, my pal, my best friend ever is not looking good. My dog (so much more than that, really) is suffering. She's been sick for a few weeks now and I deluded myself into thinking she was just aging, just slowing down a little. But finally I realized that this is bigger than the both of us.


I took her to the vet, a man who should be knighted before sainthood, and described in great detail, her symptoms. "I'm hoping for a urinary tract infection," I told him. There were signs of that, so he agreed with me and prescribed antibiotics. Which made her sicker. He suggested I stop them to see if her appetite improved, and it did. For a day.


It seemed to be a trade-off. Her appetite for the symptoms.I know I've been so sick I wanted to cave, even I can lose my appetite.


She's back on meds after today's Dr. visit, a new kind. It's too soon to tell if they'll be effective. Xrays ruled out stones, lab tests pointed to infection, and nothing has ruled out cancer. I got a feeling from the doc that this is his suspicion. I think he's getting me ready for that. I'll never be ready.


We're going to take it one day at a time, for now. But when I look into those big, brown, beseeching eyes I know that if this 10 day course of treatment doesn't work, I will have to face the inevitable. I refuse to make her sicker with radiation and chemo, so there's nothing left to do but make her comfortable.


She's been with me for eleven years. Longer than any relationship. She never judges me and she thinks I hung the moon. We never fight, never even get irritated with each other. She has been a model partner and I can't imagine my life without her.

We're in this together, girlie-girl, and I only care about your well being. Mine seems kind of shaky lately.

Live and Let Live

It occurs to me that most of us will never grow up. If you think about it, most adults, at one time or another, still behave like sandbox kids. It's just the toys are different, now they're 'issues.'

It happens in traffic, in shopping centers, stores, Dr's offices and restaurants. And it all boils down to the same thing,



"I want my way  and I want it now !"




If I can't have it my way, I'll take my toys and go home. I'll cut you off in traffic, I'll flip you off.   I'll argue with you, I'll report you, I'll take my business elswhere !





And the thing of it is,we engage in it. I'm getting better at practicing patience, being understanding and less demanding. I'm working hard on collecting my thoughts and setting my priorities. I'm trying. But I have friends who are getting less and less so, like age gives us the right to be so cantankerous.



I don't understand it. Why is everyone so impatient? It's frightening. Road rage is dangerous, these drivers are as impaired by their anger as those under the influence of drugs or alcohol. They're out of control. Where are they going in such a hurry ? What could be more important than safe driving?



I've encountered sales associates who are drunk with power. Nurses who are exhausted and exasperated. Dr's who are distracted and non-commital and waitresses who want nothing more than to get off their feet and count their tips.



I wish, at certain time each day, maybe several times a day, there would be a signal, like church bells that would sound and remind all of us to just breathe. We could stop and look around, and at each other and remember, we're all in this together.



It's not about the one who get there first,it's about how we get there.

Peace and Love, Man ~

Life's Little Curve Balls

Sometimes, I feel like a hamster on a wheel. I work so hard to maintain the status quo. My status quo is pretty cushy, so I'm running fairly constantly . I set myself up for this and it works out pretty well. A checks and balances system.


The problem is not uncommon. The problem is just that, a problem. Or several problems, always unexpected. My most recent snafu was an emergency vet bill and it ain't over yet. My dog has a urinary tract infection, possibly secondary to kidney stones. The solution, of course, is priceless. I'll deplete my resources if need be, to save this little one, but not at the cost of her comfort. No extraordinary measures for this one, who's already got a place in heaven.


Then there's silly stuff, like license tabs or speeding tickets, or root canals, those necessary evils. It all adds up and it always hits at once, at least in my case.

I'm only mentioning this because I'm reminding myself how fortunate I am to be able to put out these fires as they come up. I'm keeping my perspective. I thank God every day for putting me exactly where I am. I have riches beyond compare, starting with family and friends and creature comforts.

I live in a lovely home, I have a car, cable and enough food. I'm healthy, I'm happy and I couldn't ask for more.


In fact, I'm not. I'm only asking to keep what I've got, the ability to maintain the staus quo. Nothing more. The time will come when I'll have to lower my standards, depending on how long God lets me live.

That is, of course, subject to change when the Publishers Clearinghouse Team shows up at my door. They've promised me I may already be a winner. I'm not all that hopeful though, Ed McMahon never showed up.

 If I ever get that lucky, I promise to share the wealth. I'll put out your fires too. But the bulk of it would go to those who need much more than a root canal. They need it much more than we do.

Where's the checks and balances in the greater picture? Damned it I  know.

Friends in Low Places

Ya gotta have friends. Bette Midler reminds me of that with her version of that song.  And I don't know where I'd be without mine.


Some of my girlfriends are like sisters, and some of them are like husbands. Some of them are 'work' friends. The 'husband' friends protect you and go to dinner and the movies with you. They remind you to get license tabs.


The 'work' friends know you intimately in another arena. They see you shine, they see you fail and they help you deal with stressors that sister friends cannot imagine. They too, deal with a huge part of your life.


 All of mine are a big part of my of who I am. Many of them have been with me for years.



The best part about being around them is that you can be yourself and they love you in spite of it. They know your take on the world, they don't fault you for anything, they laugh at your jokes and they instinctively know when they're needed.



I think women treasure their friends more than men do. At least we're much more open about it. We remember birthdays and celebrate them, we know each other's health histories and worry about them.



I guess we all have different sets of friends. And I'm selfish enough not to mingle mine. I want each group compartmentalized, where they belong. Really, the only thing they have in common is me. 




The sister friends are the ones who've been there the longest. In my case, this bunch have been a big part of my life since high school, some since grade school. We've grown up together, we're growing old together. We still call each other by our maiden names. Our children are the same ages as are our grandchildren.



They know my secrets and find them delicious. They razz me about ex-husbands, and celebrate my accomplishments. We celebrate each other. We never tire of old stories, we laugh as hard as we did at the time. We used to have dinner every Wednesday night and go canoeing every summer.



But that was before life got in the way, that was before fate stepped in and messed some of us up, too damaged by horrible things that changed our quality of life.



We've moved away, or we've retired, but we still pick right up where we left off, before strokes and heart disease and cancer reared their ugly heads.




We still have our summer trips, not as many, but just as rewarding, perhaps even more so.



I look around my circle of friends and I know that despite everything, we're all still the same. We love each other, we go to bat for each other, we entertain, delight and amuse each other. It doesn't get any better than that.



"For you, fair friend, never can grow old. For as you were when first your eye I eyed, so seems your beauty still."



Shakespeare sure knew what he was talkin' about. ~

The Beat Goes On

Every time I look in the mirror, I see my sister. It's always been like that. I've always known exactly what I will look like in 13 years. It's really funny sometimes, like when I see a relative I haven't seen in ages. They're always astounded by the resemblance. Once, I was leaving a restaurant in northern Michigan and I was greeted enthusiastically by someone I'd never seen before. Given that the area we were visiting was my sister's neck of the woods, I knew immediately what had happened. I don't know whether to be flattered by these mistakes (Patty is very pretty, me, not so much) or insulted that someone would think I am 13 years older than I really am ! (Granted, there are days..)



Now, I get to be on the other end of it. As I watch my offspring mature, I see more and more of myself in them. One looks very much like me, more so as she ages, and the other has my voice and mannerisms. It's rather uncanny. I've been caught in the act of being inattentive to their stories, so wrapped up am I in their personas. It's frightening, it's mesmerizing.



I want to stop time. I want to stop these girls in their tracks. I want to strong arm them and shake them and warn them not to make the mistakes I've made.  But they will, and more, and other mistakes and there is nothing I can do about that.




I look back and I'm still in awe of so many patients over the years....the vacant eyes, the twisted limbs and the knowledge that somewhere in there is a young girl who was a dancer, a cheerleader, a young mom, a star. And I want to tell my girls that it's going too fast, they must stop and breathe, and remember it all.




But I can't. Like me, they'll go charging through life, focused on the prize, not even thinking of the journey. Until it becomes a lot of memories, like mine, bittersweet and beautiful.



For every thing, there is a season. Turn, turn, turn.

Time Travel

I love to be outside at night. I always have, I don't know why. I loved it as a kid and I love it now. There's something...magical about it for me. Some of my best memories are of night time adventures or exeriences.


I used to love to ice skate (along time ago, in a distant galaxy, far, far away.) Occasionally, I'll hear a song on the oldies station that takes me right back to Eton Rink. The music, skating with girlfriends or the occasional boy (be still, my heart) then walking home in the snow. The midnight blue of the sky, the cold that stung all around you. Life was great ~

Summer nights, too...riding my bike with my posse, transistor radio on the handlebars, too cool for school. Talking for hours on street corners in our neighborhood, goofy flirting with those boys again, silly expressions of 'like.' A tennis ball to the back of the head, or one of them snapping your (newly aquired) bra strap..had to be in when the street lights came on.



Now, I like to walk at night, but am not as uninhibited as I was back then. Before, we threw caution to the wind, there was no need to feel apprehensive, like we do now, in the city.




Haven't you ever opened a bottle of cologne, or heard a song on the radio that absolutely transported you back through time, to a softer, gentler place when the world was yours and you knew it ? Or be reminded of someone vital to you, at that time?


That happens to me, more and more often since I retired. I don't have so much on my mind now that I'm not working, I can't take it home with me, or worry about things on my schedule. Meetings, patients, all of it really, shaped me for so many years. Now, without all that structure, it's easy to look back instead of forward all the time.



I'm more sentimental now. I hadn't anticipated that.



A favorite move, like "Going my Way" transports me to my home and my family and all of us lying around to watch it, the floor, the furniture, wherever there was room. We didn't realize then that the chances of us all ever being in the same room again were slim. Now it takes a wedding or a funeral, so the dynamic is forever changed.


I get choked up at mass, too. I've always loved the mass, but for some reason, lately, it takes me back too. I guess it's recognizing how much being a 'cradle catholic' identifies me. Womb to tomb, it's the one thing that is a constant.


So, it's kind of nice, now, after being on this crazy ride for so long, to slow down, sit back and enjoy the view.


It would take another lifetime to remember it all, good and bad, so I choose the good, and sometimes, revel in it.

The past is never dead, it is not even past.  ~William Faulkner

The Trickle UP Effect



Remember nickel candy bars? They had a nice heft to them. What a lot of chocolate for a nickel.

Remember when a quarter seemed like a big deal? I used to get thirty-five cents an hour to babysit...and I used it to buy my own Coke which I hid from my brothers under my bed. I sometimes, after a really good gig, would splurge and spend a whole dollar on bubble gum, giving me a hundred pieces. This, I was happy to share. Amazingly, I never had dental problems. But, as usual, I digress.


On the way home today I noticed that gas was down to three ninety-nine a gallon, if you use cash. Now, there's a sentence I never thought I'd use. Down to $3.99 ?


Since gas is so high lately, everything's going up, since everything has to be shipped everywhere else. I'm trying to count my blessings since I'm fortunate enough to keep up (so far)


What gets me is this: I was talking to a close friend earlier today and we were discussing an appropriate amount to send to a recent graduate. We tossed about a number that used to be a significant amount. It still is, but doesn't seem quite as generous as it once did. When did fifties turn into twenties and twenties into tens and, well, you get the picture. A dollar now is chump change!  My 'loose change' is mostly quarters, and I have no idea what to do with all these pennies. Are they going to keep making them? What happened to that half-baked plan?




I was talking to another friend of mine later today, who-knows-somebody-who-knows-somebody-who-still-smokes.. She was telling me a pack of cigarettes is now eight dollars! So, (we deduced) a carton is now eighty dollars!

They might as well just ignite one of those twenties. They'll still be out the money, but their health will benefit. So will everyone else's.


I'd pay to see that ~

Cease and Desist

I never wanted to be 'that lady,' but now,...I am~


I live in the city, in a very nice condo.  My complex is plunked down in an urban area, very new, but built to look like a faux Victorian park. It's charming.  The lawns are beautifully manicured,and the complex has restrictions limiting decorations to keep us all uniform and crisp.


When I moved here, I assumed it would be my last move, ever. I'm close to family and friends, close to shopping and my church and all the freeways.


Perfect, I thought. I can finally settle down, once and for all and enjoy my golden years.


Not so much.


It is 1:30 am and I just got in from banging on my neighbors door, again !  Now he's wise to me and doesn't answer, so I did what I never wanted to do, I called the cops to complain about the noise. And I do mean noise.


This guy has a penchant for heavy bass. The kind of bass that makes your fillings ring and the pottery jump. He was warned by the complex after the last time. He was delivered a letter by the neighbors, signed by several of us before we ever resorted to bringing in the law. This is the third time I've been involved and I'm betting he's not done yet. Who does that ? Deliberatly starting up the racket after midnight. He probably wanted to provoke and he did.


So now I find myself online, at this unglodly hour, looking at real estate. I bet he rents, so it's nothing to him.


It's going to be a long, hot summer.