Reflection I

Now that I am a few days away from my 70th birthday, I realize that although I am aging on the outside (but don't look a day over 65), inside I still feel young, albeit tempered by experience.

The last three years have been tough.   First, my mother passed away at the age of 92.    She was ready to depart, and was deep in the throes of a dementia that robbed her of any meaning of life for the last year of it.   Nevertheless, I miss her or what used to be her.    Like any other mother/daughter relationship, ours was fraught on occasion, but mostly we treated each other well, and we were close.   The main thing is that we loved each other and we both knew it.

Two years ago, my 35-year-old son died.   I am learning to live without his physical being on this planet, but I will never get over his death.   Mourning him is a whole new way of being.    My essence is still the same: I extract as much as I can out of life, my curiosity is intact, and I am able to look forward to events, but I am sometimes overwhelmed by a tsunami of agony, the depth of which I have never plumbed before.   In my past, I have known sadness and pain--of course, because my life has been well-lived--but never on a scale like this.   Again, it comforts me that the last time we spoke on the phone he said, "I love you, Mom," and I replied, "I love you, too, honey."

One year ago, my husband was diagnosed with throat cancer, and he has endured a year of terrible side effects as a result of radiation, chemotherapy, and surgery.    He suffered with little complaint, and I marvelled at his ability to simply "be."    Right now, his energy level is good, he's back to woodworking, a hobby he loves, and he wastes no time wondering if he's okay--but he is still very thin and cannot eat many foods he used to enjoy.

BUT, we are still here and doing our best with what is left of our lives.    My husband has always been a generous soul, and he watches out for those in need.   I am very busy following pursuits I enjoy: reading, writing, poetry, music, the UU church, and encouraging others to educate themselves, too.    We feel blessed to have a wonderful, loving immediate (and extended) family, and truly dear friends-of-many-years-standing, both in this country and around the world, brought closer by the internet and Skype.    We are also developing deepening friendships in a beautiful area of the northwest that is still fairly new to us.

We are not in charge of our destiny, although I used to think we were.   I made plans and figured my life would follow along.    However, that bolt from the blue can set out a totally different path to walk.   As a result, I am learning to keep an open mind and heart, to "unrigid" myself,  and to count my blessings every day, including something as simple as a good cup of tea.   When the day is a dark one, I remind myself that it, too, will pass, and I totter through it.    C'est la vie.