Aging

Image by anncapictures from Pixabay 

When I hit middle age, I vowed not to fight the aging process with cosmetics or surgery. I would accept the physical changes and move on. I did, however, keep lightening my hair until two years ago. With another birthday bringing me closer to 70, I decided it was time to let my hair return to its natural color.

To avoid the usual awkward grow-out, I asked my hairdresser to match my roots. She argued against it. The dark color would be too much of a change, but I insisted. She eventually agreed it was a good choice. After the initial shock, everyone liked the new/old color, even my husband. And the newer “platinum” highlights blended in well.  

Now, with my hair all natural, the next step was to update all my online profiles, but I procrastinated, unhappy with the new photos. Vanity? Maybe, but none of the pictures looked like the woman I saw in the mirror. Finally, I have a decent photo. I still wish I could lose more weight first, but at my age, that is a long, hard-fought battle. I’ve lost 10 pounds since November, but I still have more to go. However, in the meantime, I need to prepare friends had family who haven’t seen me in the last two years for the change in my appearance. (Hair color mostly). So, I sucked it up and changed all my profiles.

I am not ashamed of my age (now one birthday away from 70) and, for the most part, don’t dwell on the number. I’m thankful for that multitude of years. Too many never make it this far, and there is so much more life yet to live. More paintings to paint, books to write, people to meet, and adventures to experience.

Speaking of writing, this is my newest project, besides an almost finished oil painting of an old mill.  

Evie 

Evie Walsh is a member of The Gifted, an ancient race of supernatural beings humans have been led to believe are extinct. Evie’s gift allows her to watch events in exact detail as they are unfolding. She uses this ability to assist law enforcement with hostage rescue, finding the lost or missing, and many other dangerous situations — until her secret becomes too well known. Questions will be asked, putting her and all The Gifted in danger.

Only one organization offers her protection while utilizing her clairvoyance, but can they offer enough protection, and can she trust them? 

How about you? Is there one birthday that was harder to accept? Or does your age not bother you? Do you have new projects on the horizon? Do share! 

Well, That Didn't Go As Planned

I originally posted this in June of 2017, but it popped up today when looking for a different post. It seems I needed the reminder as I have again fallen into the get-everything-done-on-my-to-do list mode. I'm not as bad as I used to be, but I've been pushing myself and feeling a little exasperated when life preempts my plans. Seems God has decided I needed this reminder.  

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I outlined a new time management plan I hoped would incorporate more exercise and writing opportunities into my day. It worked — for three days. 

As John Lennon said, “Life happens while you’re busy making other plans.” 

We took an unplanned trip to celebrate our 15^th wedding anniversary. Those four days eradicated my first week’s effort to follow my plan. Do I regret going? No. However, I lost my initial drive and it was rough getting back into it. 

I had the rhythm down again when we put an offer on a house in another city and listed ours for sale. There went any hope of a structured schedule. Am I sorry we made the decision? No. It’s exciting, even if it wreaks havoc on my time management scheme.  

I think there is a repeated lesson here, one I don’t seem to grasp for long before I need a reminder that God is the only constant in this world and my relation to Him should be my top priority. When I stand before Him for my final judgement, I won’t be too worried about any of my plans and schemes except those that were in accordance to His will.

Was I kind to others? Did I put Him before everything else? Did I use my talents wisely?

As for the plan, it’s not a bad idea, but I must expect the occasional derailing and not let guilt eat away my peace of mind. I need to flow along with the interruptions when they happen. That’s life, is it not?

Month Three—Almost There

No wonder my surgeon waits two months from the last saline fill before performing the next surgery. It’s day five, and I’m still tender from the muscle spasms, and the rock on my chest has grown to a boulder. My surgeon assures me this will subside as my muscles and tissues expand.

I take hope and strength knowing I am almost done. Only the surgery to remove the expander and place the prosthetic is left, besides the last six weeks of recovery.

This experience has broadened my view on many things. The number of other women I have encountered who have, or had, breast cancer and undergone mastectomies and reconstruction is much larger than I comprehended. According to my oncologist, one out of eight women are diagnosed with breast cancer in their lifetime. No wonder I know so many, including myself.

Even without dealing with cancer in one of its many forms, few of us escape this life unscarred or unscathed in some way. How well we adapt depends on many factors. For me, faith is at the top of the list. Prayer has seen me through this difficult time and my preceding trials. Attitude comes next. Anger, although natural, can adversely affect healing and places extra strain on our mental stamina. Denial can be dangerous, causing us to neglect to act promptly. With cancer, time is not our friend. I found acceptance and trust to be the most powerful attributes of my faith in any situation.

With my recovery and reconstruction almost complete, I thank God for every pain free day.
Something I will never again take for granted. Another thing I will not take for granted is time. I have slowed down my usual hectic pace and enjoy His gifts more fully, no longer rushing my prayers or my devotions. After prayer, I place time spent with my husband, parents, children, and friends at the top of my To Do list. My plans to develop and use my talents are still in place, but not at the forced, frenzied pace I’ve used in the past.

Life can change with my next breath, and none of us know our expiration date. It is a shame to waste a single moment not loving, praying, smiling, laughing, and being thankful.

It's All Relative

When my son was in the Coast Guard, he sometimes worked ninety hours a week. He commented to his supervisor, “How easy the civilians have it. They only work forty hours instead of our eighty to ninety.” 

His supervisor said, “It’s all relative. If you cut back to forty hours, you’d be happy for a while. Then, you’d want less. Twenty-hours would also become a burden at some point. Let’s say your boss only required you to go into the office once a week to pick up your paycheck. Eventually even that would feel inconvenient. It’s all relative to your attitude and perception.”

That little story came to mind as I did dishes for what seemed the umpteenth time that day while my husband relaxed in his chair. It felt like most of the chores had shifted in my direction since I had retired. 

I glanced out the window. A beautiful sunset splayed across the sky. I dried my hands and stepped out onto the patio. Memories flooded in of how sunsets used to trigger a sick feeling knowing that the next day I faced another eleven-hour marathon. Before I retired, I endured an hour-long commute one way in heavy traffic, grumpy and rude coworkers, and the stress of trying to please my boss. 

My anger melted. If it weren’t for my spouse, I would still be doing that grueling schedule. My current chores were much easier and left me plenty of leisure time. 

I went back to the kitchen with a grateful heart, even giving my husband a hug and a kiss on the way. 

He asked, “What’s that for?”

“Because I love you and appreciate everything you do.”

When I stopped to think about it, he did a lot. He often brought me coffee in the morning, ran errands, and mowed lawns. Not to mention he vacuumed, dusted, did his own laundry, washed the windows, handled the household repairs, paid the bills and did all the snow shoveling last winter. And here I was griping over a few dishes,

It will take effort not to grumble when I am tired and don’t feel like doing chores, but I plan to repeat St. Paul’s words, “I speak not as it were for want. For I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, to be content therewith.” Philippians 4:11 

Perhaps I should post the equation for Einstein’s theory of relativity next to the kitchen sink.

Pollyanna Had It Right

Neuropsychologists recently confirmed an optimistic viewpoint leads to a healthier and happier life. The Psalms have said the same thing for centuries. 

One of the most well known, Psalm 27: “The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear? The Lord is the protector of my life, of whom shall I be afraid? I believe to see the good things of the Lord in the land of the living. Expect the Lord, do manfully, and let thy heart take courage, and wait for the Lord.” Verses 1, 13-14.

It’s a choice. If we believe, then we’ll see. Before performing a miracle, Jesus asked if the recipient believed in his ability to grant their request. Faith is as much a choice as optimism. 

If we look for hate, we’ll find it. If we look for good, we’ll find that too. That doesn’t mean we won’t encounter the bad regardless of our mindset. God has guaranteed we will see trouble in this world, yet he still asks that we look beyond it. 

I have had my share of trouble, like everyone else. However, God stepped in during the blackest moments with promises and encouragement. Psalm 27 is one of many that lifted my eyes from my personal tragedies toward the good that still existed. It might be a beautiful sunrise or sunset, a smile from a friend, a child’s giggle, or a hug when we need one the most. It may also be a personal scripture promising we will see the good things of the Lord in the land of the living. It’s our choice.

The Not So Golden Moments of Retirement

It’s finally here, retirement. After months of planning and dreaming, the day has come, but my first few weeks weren’t the joy-filled, do-whatever-I want-time I thought it would be. Of course, I expected there would be obligations, tasks and chores, what I did not anticipate was being ill, needing a skin biopsy, and having partial laryngitis. Add in a computer crash, garbage disposal on the fritz, brand new dryer making odd noises, and a jammed tailgate on the truck. Sounds like too much fun, doesn’t it?

Retirement has been my golden egg, the place of peace and contentment, less stress ― in my imagination. I knew there would be bumps and a few rough places, but I figured those would be spaced a bit, not slam me right off the bat.