Category: Our families (Page 2 of 4)

Feeling left behind?

02/22/2016 /

20150125There’s a lot of great things about growing older.

But there’s some tough stuff as well, like losing more people every year. People in your family. A spouse. Friends. Co-workers and past acquaintances.

Whether it’s the finality of death or a phone call that tells you someone has a terminal disease.

That just can’t be.

 She’s not old enough.

 He was just about to retire.

 We went to school together.

 She’s younger than I am.

How old does that make me??

It’s natural to feel some fear when you get news like this. It’s also natural to take a hard look at yourself, and then feel guilty because it’s supposed to be about them, not you.

Yet it is about you…and me…and how strange it is to age on the outside and yet still feel 25, 35, 45 on the inside.

I had a 93-year old neighbor once who was legally blind but every bit as alive and involved as she had always been. Her smile was a welcome sight every day. Yet she confessed to me that it was getting harder and harder because she had outlived everyone…her friends, her post loves, her anchors. I didn’t get it totally then, but I’m starting to now.

It feels like we’re all in lifeboats bobbing up and down at sea, holding hands, getting through all the storms and high waves together. Then more and more of our fellow life travelers fall in the water, disappearing, and the chain is not as strong as it used to be. Hey now, hang on a minute.

We’re all supposed to get through this together. We’re supposed to make it to the other side together. Don’t leave me!

photo-1428263197823-ce6a8620d1e1It’s even hard when famous people die, if we’ve identified with them our whole lives and they’ve become a part of how we experience each day. A singer who helped us escape the rigors of teenage angst. A sports figure that inspired us to work out harder because he or she never gave up. An author whose words pulled us through a life crisis.

Now they are gone, and we are left to fend as best we can. It can make me feel more exposed and vulnerable at times. And yet, I’m guessing what’s really happening is we are left with the essence of who we are…and sometime’s that a good thing. To “meet” ourselves without any filters or escape hatches.

All the people we have known, loved, liked, respected, or even disliked help shape who we are…and now as boomers and beyond, who we have become. But they are just part of the picture.

Depending upon your belief, you may take solace in that you will remain connected with them for eternity, that this is not a final goodbye. (That’s my belief, and in a few cases, I’m ready to really make sure they understand what they meant to me!) Knowing that can help ease the pain, and underscore how tight some bonds can be.

Here’s some nice words from the late poet A.R. Ammons:

 

In View of the Fact

 The people of my time are passing away: my wife is baking for a funeral, a 60-year-old who

 died suddenly, when the phone rings, and it’s Ruth we care so much about in intensive care:

 

it was once weddings that came so thick and fast, and then, first babies, such a hullabaloo:

 now, it’s this that and the other and somebody else gone or on the brink: well, we never

 

thought we would live forever (although we did) and now it looks like we won’t: some of us

 are losing a leg to diabetes, some don’t know what they went downstairs for, some know that

 

a hired watchful person is around, some like to touch the cane tip into something steady,

 so nice: we have already lost so many, brushed the loss of ourselves ourselves: our

 

address books for so long a slow scramble now are palimpsests, scribbles and scratches: our

 index cards for Christmases, birthdays, Halloweens drop clean away into sympathies:

 

at the same time we are getting used to so many leaving, we are hanging on with a grip

 to the ones left: we are not giving up on the congestive heart failure or brain tumors, on

 

the nice old men left in empty houses or on the widows who decide to travel a lot: we

 think the sun may shine someday when we’ll drink wine together and think of what used to

 

be: until we die we will remember every single thing, recall every word, love every

 loss: then we will, as we must, leave it to others to love, love that can grow brighter

 

and deeper till the very end, gaining strength and getting more precious all the way. . . .

 

heart-shaped-fluffy-cloud Life is precious. Grab it with all the might you have and celebrate your spirit, your soul, and your passion for living. Do it for yourself, and those who have moved on to a higher being. Rock that wrinkle!!!

 

“Being happy never goes out of style.”

     Lilly Pulitzer

Pearl Harbor and Us.

12/07/2015 /

Today is December 7, 2015. Thinking back to December 7, 1941.

From what I have been told, it started out as a beautiful day in Pearl Harbor.

IMG_0192But at 7:55 a.m. Hawaiian time, that quickly changed.

And before it was all over, 2,403 people lost their lives and 1,200 were wounded.  With Pearl Harbor, America was thrown into WWII.

Terrifying. Stunning. Devastating. Rallying.   As a baby boomer, I was not alive then, but my (now late) parents were. I can only imagine the feelings of both vulnerability and patriotism this event evoked in people who previously assumed their world would remain safe.

Not unlike what the 2011 attacks on the World Trade Tours did—reawakened a global resolve to restore some level of peace and order to a turbulent world.

Debates about all the issues will go on forever. But for just a moment, let’s stop and think about what war does to us. Death is not the only result. Fear. Loss of trust. Disorientation about where we fit in the world. Worry over younger members of our family who might be thrown right into its core.   Disruption of our belief system. Rifts with relatives who take the opposite side in political views.  Veterans who can’t receive adequate medical care and live in poverty.

Hate. Sadness. Sorrow.

Why bring this up during the holiday season?

Because not only is the attack on Pearl Harbor a day in history we must remember, it is also a day to honor all the brave men and women who put their lives on the line for us every day. Servicemen and women. Police officers and firefighters. Doctors Without Borders. Ambassadors and missionaries. Foreign correspondents who report from the fighting.   Emergency responders who pull people from flooded cars and rescue beloved pets from rooftops in natural disasters.

IMG_0206In a world filled with so much hate, there is still so much love. There will always be those who hate. But also, there will always be those who are willing to reach out, to accept, to listen, and most importantly, to love.

In 1941, we were mostly united in our fight against those who wished us harm. Today it’s a tougher call, with many innocent souls targeted for their religion, their country of origin, or their desperate desire to escape horrible living conditions.

No easy answers. Except a hope that peace on earth will come someday, for all peoples.   What a gift that would be.

         “Sometimes even to live is an act of courage.”

                    Seneca

How to Talk Over Turkey.

11/09/2015 /

Hard to believe Thanksgiving  is almost here.  Getting together with the family over the holidays can be an interesting experience. It can be great fun catching up on the latest news, seeing the photos of boyfriends, high school plays, and meeting the new pet.

But sometimes knowing what to say to someone you never are around isn’t the easiest thing.

You know this is a great opportunity to bond. Share your wisdom as a boomer and beyond. Be inspired by some of the younger spirit.

EmXUwn6EBut what do you talk about? Will your younger relatives be interested in anything you have to say?

One group has come up with a way to start a conversation—and a unique one at that. It’s called “Family, Let’s Talk! Starting Conversations Across Generations.” It comes in a small box filled with cards. A different question on is on each card. Members of your group take turns asking a question.

A sample of some of the questions:

If i was 20 years older, I’d ______________________________

If I died tomorrow, I’d most regret _______________________

The most thrilling sports event I witnessed was _____________ 

My favorite holiday memory is ___________________________ 

Granted, some questions are tougher than others. But what an interesting way to break the ice between generations, and maybe help one another gain a new appreciation for family history.

Imagine the pioneers, sitting in a dark and drafty cabin for months in the winter, with nothing to do but maybe knit, whittle, or rock back and forth. Granted, they were probably so exhausted by 6 p.m. they preferred to just go to sleep. But would guess these were the times when fathers talked to their sons. Mothers read to their daughters. by candlelight.

candlesNo television.

No phones.

Egad….no Facebook.

Just each other. And a very strong bond.

Of course most of us don’t want to go back to those days (though some still choose to live that simply), but I think many would agree there’s a loss of connection between the generations. Back then, families usually lived in one house, or very close by. These days, we’re spread all over the place.

It’s hard. Even with a cell phone growing out of our hand.

So maybe this Thanksgiving, after the feeding frenzy subsides, the football is becoming boring, and there’s still some time left together, you might pull out “Family, Let’s Talk” and see what happens.

 

“Families are like fudge.  Mostly sweet with a few nuts.”

             Anonymous

 

 

Is anybody listening?

10/05/2015 /

When did listening become a rare….very rare….talent?

Probably about the same time selfies became the only way to experience anything.

Can we truly not sit still for 5 minutes, letting another person bare their soul, without already coming up with what we want to say, that so often is about us, and not them?

I confess it really bothers me.  I so treasure the people in my life who actually want to hear what is happening in my life, listen to me when I’m in need of another person’s understanding, and not immediately make it relate to them.  And if I’m honest, I only know a few who will do that.  Research says humans generally listen at a 25% comprehension rate.  I have a feeling political candidates in a debate listen about 5% of the time, if that much.
PICT2068Being a good friend (which to me, means listening) is something I work hard at.  Because like anyone, I know there are those days when you just need to vent.  You need to express your frustration over work or relationships.  You want, just for a moment, to get a little empathy for your chronic pain or your work struggles or whatever is vexing you.

Why is it so important?  When you really listen to someone, you are taking them seriously.  You are showing them respect.  You are saying you care without saying a word. That’s something we all want—to be heard, to be acknowledged.

So if you need to tell me about something that matters to you, I listen.  I look at you, I don’t look around the restaurant at other people. (55% of the meaning of our words is derived from facial expressions.)

I do not look at my phone. (Studies suggest we are distracted and/or preoccupied 85% of the time while we are supposedly listening.)

I do not prepare a dialogue about how all this happened to me only yesterday.  (Studies also say we listen at 125-250 words per minute, but we think at 1,000 to 3,000 words per minute.  Uh-oh.)

I’m not a saint, and sometimes I do better than others.  But I really try to hear you, whether you are a friend, a client, or a stranger who needs directions.   And so very often, I don’t get that back.  Not even a smidgen.  It’s sad.

I think most people are innocent in that they don’t realize what they are doing.  We live in such an immediate, reactive, self-absorbed world.  We have to take our picture every 5 minutes.  We have to let everyone know what we’re doing every 5 minutes via Facebook and Twitter.  Our phones are attached to our hands, yet we don’t really communicate with anyone.  Instead, we text 4 words and expect an immediate response.  We don’t write letters anymore pouring our hearts out and thus we never receive any either.

For most people, finding 10 minutes of quiet in a day—sans a device— is not only impossible, it’s not something they want anyway.

I think we are losing each other.  It’s a bit frightening.  Maybe the much younger generation is good with all this.

But I’m not.

And I would hope boomers and beyond are not either.  Because after we’ve retired, or our spouse or friends have passed away, and our lives have grown much smaller, I think we’ll so desperately want someone to talk to—someone who will just listen to us and let us listen to them.

Who will see us and hear us.

I just pray we remember how.

“Wisdom is the reward you get for a lifetime of listening when you’d have preferred to talk.”

Doug Larson

 

 

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