It’s a little sobering when you come to the inescapable conclusion that in three weeks, you’ll be joining the Old Geezer’s Club…at least on some technical level. Technical, I say, because the convolutions of stellar cartography and the warp of the time-space continuum tell me it’s so. Not so technically, I say, because my brain says I’m still 17.
My tongue has something to add, too. It’s called a raspberry, directed mostly to my brain, saying what we know ain’t necessarily so.
But my left shoulder is just a twitchin’ from all this sitting in front of the computer and writing stories for the newspaper. Thankfully (whatever in the world that means), it’s an ache not a pain. As in a muscle ache that is taking up residence in my left elbow, and not a shooting pain which would mean my heart can’t take it anymore.
When one starts to contemplate one’s mortality, there is just a flurry of activity in the frontal cortex. Talk about chaos theory! For more than three years, I have struggled with the oppressive weight I’ve felt connected with my mother’s eventual diagnosis of Alzheimer’s disease. My mom and I were the closest of friends, and one day she just slipped away and became a stranger. In her case, it happened relatively quickly. It scares the everlovin’ crap out of me thinking something like this might happen to me. It’s not a lot of comfort telling myself I would be the last to know…
The other day, I got up on a 25-foot ladder to clean the windows on my house. It was the first time I’d dragged the ladder out and confronted my demons. You see, my dad died after falling off a ladder in that same three-year time frame. Every step upward was mentally tortured, but eventually the task was completed. I knew what my dad would have said to me about going up the ladder: “You just have to attack it.” He would have been right.
While getting older isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, I have to say there are some ways in which it beats several of the alternatives. For example: I truly wouldn’t want to be a kid growing up in this world today. But I suspect every generation has made the same comment!
What I turn to for comfort is that it has taken relatively little to make me happy over the years. I’ve never worshipped at the altar of the almighty dollar, and I’ve never been materialistically oriented. I was drawn to the Rockies because of the peace and quietude. Because of its sheer power and state of being. And almost 30 years later, this fact continues to seep into my pores and tingle my nerve endings. It is a reason to get up in the morning.
Last night when I went to bed, I could feel fall in the air as the breeze meandered around in my bedroom. There is just something so incredible about the gentle movement on your face as you’re falling asleep. A natural lullaby and extremely hypnotic.
I love being able to work from my house. I did the commute for 16 years to The City before deciding to fly solo, and haven’t looked back. When the rest of the world is gearing up for the treadmill of life on the way to the daily grind, I get to put up with a noisy cat telling me her morning treat is overdue. My other kitty is plunked smack in the middle of the bed, giving me little choice but to get up and attend to business.
I have always loved the dark skies here, and each night is a real wonderment. Who knew the night sky could hold so much glassy, understated brilliance?
I delight in the fact that nature can still startle me. A week ago, I heard a rustling outside my bedroom at 3 a.m. I knew it was a black bear, but had to see what was agitating this particular Ursa so much, as there was some pretty persistent moaning and groaning coming from the peanut gallery. Turns out she had two cubs with her. If you don’t know anything about bears, this is the time they go into a megafrenzy looking for food before they estivate in October (bears don’t hibernate, folks, they estivate; so get out the dictionary). One of the cubs was attacking my aspen tree, as though the rough assault would cause food to fall from the branches.
I was so enthralled watching this. I am pressed up against the window shining a small flashlight outside to watch the show. When mamma bear popped up on her hinds and got in my face to see who was encroaching on her territory and/or threatening the young-uns, I involuntarily jumped five feet backward before realizing I’d even done it. The only thing that separated us was a sheer pane of glass. I love nature but ain't stupid! I smiled even as my heart was ready to thud its way out of my chest.
The fact that elk can rut in my backyard, and I can watch the spots on newborn fawns fade away as they grow up is nothing short of miraculous. Oh yeah, there is the coyote who has recently taken to taunting the wolves next door (yes, my neighbor has two wolves) with his night-time yipping.
Maybe this is the reason AARP didn’t catch up with me over a decade ago…
