White Knuckling Through March

          March is a tricky month for me. While spring officially starts March 20^th and signals new buds on plants and trees and an increasing warmth in the morning air, there is a significant number of endings that occurred for me in March over the years. We all experience deaths in our families and amongst our friends, especially as we ourselves age. It gets a little hinky when our friends start passing. It reminds me of my own mortality.

          I don’t mean to be morbid, but I can’t help white knuckle my way through March, as I’ve experienced a concentration of significant loss during that month. First of all, it was my
mother who passed away in March 13 years ago. She had been a lifelong smoker and, fortunately for her, experienced just one episode of emphysema that hastened her death while in a coma. She did not linger in semi-consciousness nor did she have to wheel an oxygen tank around for the remainder of her life.

         Next it was my sister, Christine, who died in March 6 years ago at 62 years of age. She, too, was a smoker and passed three weeks after being diagnosed with cancer. I had just retired when she got ill and I went to stay with and care for her. I tried to do it all by myself and I wasn’t successful. It was the most stressful experience of my life. Eventually her son and others from the community stepped in to assist. I miss Christine; she was my true north. Even when we squabbled like little girls, I knew I could count on her to be there like no other.

          Lastly, two years ago, Chuck died. My partner of 24 years and I weren't living together the last two years of his life but we were closer than ever before. Being able to keep our personality foibles in our respective homes allowed our love to flourish like it hadn’t in awhile. When Chuck went to the doctor on March 9th for an appointment and straight from there to the emergency room it was a shock. We had been together the night before, and our last words to each other had been “I love you.” But I didn’t get a chance to speak with him again because he had been put into a coma to stabilize him before I could get to the hospital. Less then a week after his admission, Chuck made his transition into his next life. As with anyone who has experienced the loss of a spouse, it was gut-wrenchingly painful. Because we weren’t legally married, it was his family who took care of all the things that needed to be dealt with, and it was understandably difficult for them. I will miss him always and never fully accept that I won’t get the opportunity to learn more from this gentle man who was loved by many.

          It feels really spooky having no one in my family of origin left (my father passed in February 1976). Sure, I have compiled a family made up of friends who love me, and I don’t feel alone or lonely, but when I flip that calendar page and it says “March,” I can’t help but cringe. I am, however, beginning to look at how I can change the white knuckling through March into something better. I'm interested in shifting the paradigm from acknowledging the past to embracing the future.

          I’m looking forward to a beginning when I can see it's the first of March and am able to smile and feel overwhelming warmth for shared experiences that made up the bulk of my life. Thank you to the people in my life for being my family and for allowing me to feel all that goes with that distinction. I love you all.

Anthropomorphizing: It's More Than an Unpronounceable Word

          Anthropomorphizing. I love that word. I love it because I can pronounce it and because I’m an expert at it. I anthropomorphize all the time. People make fun of me because I anthropomorphize so much. At the same time, however, I can get irritated when I see someone else anthropomorphizing about something.

          Webster defines anthropomorphize as “to attribute human form or personality to things not human.” In other words, when I’m gone on vacation and my cat has been cared for by others for many days, based on her behavior, I’m sure she is being upset, angry and standoffish upon my return. She’s punishing me for being gone. Most of my anthropomorphizing is with my cat, Kali, but there are many different examples of how people do it.

          A well-known example of anthropomorphism is found in the Bible story of Adam and Eve, where the serpent is given the ability to talk to Eve, in order to tempt her to eat the forbidden fruit. Stories can be visually more appealing and possibly less threatening if the speakers are animals as in Peter Rabbit or Watership Down. Dressing a pet up in human clothes or other costumes may be an extreme form of anthropomorphism. Cute, but sometimes creepy.

          There is no concrete way to know for sure how much, if any, human qualities an animal may experience. A look at associating human qualities to animals, in particular to our pets, has been the subject of lots of research trials trying to show the extent to which my cat Kali, for instance, is truly experiencing emotions of being upset, or feeling guilt or sadness. A recent test I saw on public television dealt with the possibility of a pet feeling guilt. You know, we’ve seen that look on their faces when they shred the toilet paper or steal food.

          This is how the test was conducted:  there is a dog sitting in an empty room. The dog’s owner comes in the room and places a treat on the floor and leaves. The dog just sits there. Shortly another person comes in the room and steals the treat and leaves the room. When the owner returns and scolds the dog, the dog looks guilty. The researchers concluded the dog was responding to scolding actions and voice, not necessarily feeling guilt.

          But what about empathy? I’m sitting on the couch, Kali is in my lap and I’m watching the movie “Terms of Endearment” for the umpteenth time. When I start to quietly boohoo, Kali looks up at me and will lean in close to my bosom and reach her little paw out to touch my check. The look in her eyes tells me she’s thinking, “Oh, mom, don’t cry.” I KNOW that’s what she’s thinking.

          Oh, yeah, good thing I know about anthropomorphism. Do you do it? Would you agree it's more than an unpronounceable word?

Grab Your Ballots, It's Oscar Time!

          During the year my friend Kristie and I try to see the movies that have been nominated for Best Picture of the Academy Awards, as well as other major movies nominated for other awards. Seeing most, if not all, of the major movies gives us a reason to have a little party the night of the Oscar presentations. This year is no exception.

          Most years there is at least one, sometimes two, movies that I’d avoid, even if they had been nominated, because they were too bloody or too boring or too arduous. This year the movies in these categories that I didn’t see were Jack Reacher and Les Miserables. I wasn't going to see Django Unchained, the western staring Jamie Foxx, but Kristie talked me into it. I covered my eyes during the gorier parts and wound up loving the flick.

          As you can tell from my sparse movie reviews (http://antoniasreviews.blogspot.com/), it was lackluster viewing for most of the year and I had little to rave about. Are we running out of movies to make? Doesn’t it seem the infamous pipeline of what movies get made got a lot narrower in 2012? Or perhaps it was that combined with casting. I mean, if you’ve ever read any Lee Childs’ books on Jack Reacher, Tom Cruise is the antithesis of the Jack Reacher character. Perhaps we tired of Tolstoy’s sweeping Anna Karenina story so that we had to show it in such a distracting stylized way of a movie within a stage play format?

          There was, however, one picture that was the BEST film I’ve seen in years. It’s “The Intouchables” but it didn't make the cut for the French entry for the Best Foreign Film category. This wonderful movie depicts a true story of a man confined to a wheelchair and his infamous aide. It is funny, irreverent, touching and the acting is superb. Check out http://antoniasreviews.blogspot.com/2012/11/first-movie-review.html  to see the complete review. This movie has left the theaters but be sure to see it when it comes out on video. I’ve seen it four times already.

          While I’m not a television producer by any means, I think there should be some changes made in the televised Oscar event.

Happy Valentine's Day!

          Valentine’s Day is day after tomorrow. I wish you could feel the huge pause after I type that first sentence. I fear my point of view isn’t going to be a popular one. In the spirit of full disclosure, however, I am obligated to not side-step the issue and to share my feelings about this most romantic of holidays.

          I can’t get too excited about Valentine’s Day. Perhaps this is because I’ve been conditioned by 24 years of being with an accountant who needed that day like all the days between Jan 1 and April 15 to get taxes done. Sure, we’d exchange a card but would do little else to celebrate our love. And that was okay with me.

          When I was younger, in my 20’s and 30’s, Valentine’s Day was huge, a true measure of my femininity and appeal. As I matured, I saw that a loving relationship is celebrated every day by doing little things, saying loving supportive words, by being there for the other person through the bad and the good. Chuck and I weren’t always successful at being the most loving toward each other but we tried, each in our own way. It wasn’t any expensive dinners, flowers or other gifts that spoke of our love, but the fact that we made it work in our own way until he passed away. Ironically, the last words we spoke to each other were "I love you." Overall, I believe we could look back and agree that we celebrated our love the majority of the time in the best way we knew.

          I've never begrudged others spending time and money and splurging on Valentine’s Day…a new piece of expensive jewelry or a trip or perhaps just a simple construction paper cut-out card. Whatever it is that works best is what should be done.

          Regardless of how Valentine’s Day unfolds for you, whether you see the day itself as special or just like any other day, there are people and friends and pets who will luxuriate in your love and attention. Enjoy them, celebrate them and don’t wait until day after tomorrow to do so.

 

                                                                                                 

                                                                      Love,
                                                                         Antonia

Fight Back Against the Winter Doldrums!

                                                                         
          It’s often been speculated that February was the month when most suicides are committed. Now, that’s a cheerful thought – not! While it has been shown statistically that this isn’t true (with most suicides occurring in the spring), there does seem to be increased levels of depression, especially among senior citizens, during the winter months. I’m not a researcher in this subject, and perhaps I’m only using my own straw poll to make that assessment.

          The holidays are over, no more abundant visits with friends coupled with excessive food and drink. It’s back to the grind at work, and exercise and veggies. No more almond roca until your teeth hurt or a glass of wine every night instead of once in awhile. It’s grey outside and the weather often keeps us cooped up for days on end. In fact, during this month we tend to eat and drink more than in previous months and sleep lots more, all of which can escalate depression.

          All the trees are bare and our yards, be they tiny patios like mine or expansive yards enjoyed by the myriad kids, grandkids and pets, are bleak. I have a lovely gingko tree that I planted a few years back, and it gives me great joy as I gaze upon it from my living room. However, practically overnight, all its leaves are gone. The Japanese maples start thinning out and by this time, they are looking pretty twiggy and lifeless. The chilling weather and the lack of pleasing visual surroundings are pervasive on our psyche. I believe the shorter grey days create a physiological response in our bodies during this time of year. It can wear on the upbeat approach to life making everything seem less exciting and less worth endeavoring. It’s hitting the snooze button magnified 1,000 percent.

          What to do? You can bet I’m going to say meditating should be at the top of any list of possible remedies to the winter doldrums. Let’s face it, meditating is easy to do, cheap and doesn’t take a lot of time. It’s the perfect panacea to much of what ails us in life, be you a senior citizen or not.

          There are lots of other things one can do to fight back the lethargy and depression of dark winter months. Some of these items are costly and time consuming and others, like meditation, are not.

Must We Always Act Our Age?

          I look to the future because that's where I'm going to spend the rest of my life. George Burns
         


          Age is a state of mind. If that is true, must we always act our age? I don't think so!

          “What? Didn’t she just go over this age thing a couple of weeks ago?”

          Yes, I was thrilled to celebrate my 65^th birthday earlier this month. I spoke of sharing the birth date with Martin Luther King and shifting my ‘Use by…’ date to 81 years old. But I didn’t talk about how our attitudes about getting older age us. I didn’t talk about those little habits of things we say and do that scoot us into walkers much faster than necessary.

          The Handbook of Religion and Health by Koenig, et al, indicates that people who have a regular religious attendance or practice live, on average, 7 years longer than those who don’t. There are things we can do to make the best use of those extra years.

          I was pleased last fall to attend a workshop at the Center for Spiritual Living . The speaker was Rev. Chris Michaels from the Kansas City Center for Spiritual Living.  Our two Centers are closely aligned and  Rev. Chris visits us often. He sometimes travels with us to foreign countries when our Center organizes spiritual excursions to places like Bali. I have spent some time with him on one of these trips and he is a cool guy. He tells it like he sees it and people listen because he’s right on. He is not even close to being a senior citizen but he isn’t a young pup either.

          A friend and I attended his workshop entitled “Aging as a Spiritual Practice” and found Chris’ perceptions and his take on how our ways of thinking can age us faster than the clock. Chris points out that our spirits are the true essence of who we are, not our bodies. Spirit is ageless, timeless and deathless. Yet we continually remind ourselves and others that we are becoming more limited physically and/or mentally as time goes on. How many times have you said, as I have, “Oh, I forgot that because I’m having a senior moment,” or “I used to be able to do that longer…or faster…or better….”? How often do we buy into a youthful society’s message that says if you’re over 30 you’re not worth very much? We’re the first people to limit ourselves by believing and integrating these attitudes as we get older.

          Yes, our bodies are flesh that does deteriorate over time, but there’s nothing more limiting than

Pinterest

                                                                                     

          Have you ever heard of Pinterest? If so, do you think it’s just one more thing that you lack time and interest in pursuing? I like it partly because I have time to like it. Some of the enjoyment of being a senior citizen is to have time for things like Pinterest. Sure, if you abhor the computer, then you probably won’t free up the time to find your way to this excellent bulletin board.

          My much younger friends, Cheri and Christi, first raved about Pinterest to me last year and, at the time, it seemed a bit overwhelming. What could an internet bulletin board offer that would be fun and interesting? [Sidebar: By now you see the word ‘interesting’ keeps coming up. Think of Pinterest as an online bulletin board where you can pin interesting things.] What the name doesn’t hint at is that the site compiles and presents a cabillion ‘interesting’ things you might want to save for future reference. Instead of printing out something interesting and putting that piece of paper in a drawer, folder or instead of pinning it to the bulletin board above your desk, you ‘Pin’ the item and it is saved to your own virtual bulletin board.

          Your big bulletin board is then broken down into as many smaller sub-bulletin boards as you want or need. For instance, attached to my board I have 18 topic specific boards with interests which include: cats, books worth reading, men I like, gingko, veggie sushi, style, for the home, and miscellaneous. Each item pinned under one of these boards leads to a picture and a recipe, website, blog or some other avenue to get the information you need. There are thousands of pin possibilities for how to get your clothes whiter, or pack better for a trip or make the ideal Halloween costume, or tie a scarf or where to buy something or how to make something. All the users contribute thousands of new pins daily.

          Pinterest is like being able to view the entire web and select and store those items that interest you. Recently I became interested in altered books, where decorative art is made from old books. I searched on Pinterest and found hundreds of examples of different altered book projects and displays. I ‘pinned’ them and then later, when I had more time, I went back and looked at them individually. By doing this I was exposed to websites that showed where altered books classes or exhibits are taking place. I was exposed to other people who shared my interest and to instructions on how to reproduce some exhibited work.

          And don’t EVEN talk about food and recipes. Pinterest recipes have a life of their own, and well known jokes have been published about how much time, energy and ingredients have been taken up with tried and true or tried and not true cooking. Three of my 18 Pinterest bulletin boards deal with food alone.

          Pinterest isn’t a game. It’s a huge conglomeration of information. Granted, like Wikipedia, most of the info is viewer input, and I generally double check things that sound wacko.

          There is no obligation with Pinterest. There is no advertising, no possibility of spam unless you travel down a path to a dubious website (and Pinterest is very good about ferreting those out ahead of time) and no social interaction per se. Yes, you may comment on a pin in the public arena but you don’t need to chat or talk or email with anyone else there. No one is going to bother or poke you if you don’t pin for weeks or months. It truly is there for you, to use as you see fit.

          I think it’s definitely worth checking out. Find it out here http://pinterest.com/

Turning 65

           It seems fortuitous that I chose Tuesdays as the day of the week I would publish new posts here at Antonia’s Senior Moments. Both Christmas and New Years fell on Tuesdays and today, a couple of weeks into the New Year, I’m writing my Tuesday post on my 65^th birthday.

          I share my birthday with a wonderful and truly inspirational man, Martin Luther King. He would have been 84 today. I feel honored to share this day with King, who opened the door and brought the fresh air of “all people created equal” into our current society. Sure, the ideology hasn’t stuck for everyone, but some people don’t have the education to be that open and accepting, let alone the experience to know what it feels like to be discriminated against. So, here’s to a noble countryman who gave of his ideology and his life so the lives of black people everywhere could be better. In my opinion, us white folks are better for it too!

          So, its official: I’m a legitimate, card-carrying Medicare recipient and I’m entitled to social security, which I’ve been receiving since I was 62 (a story for another day). When I turned 55, many establishments (movie theaters, some restaurants and retail stores), would give me a senior discount. I had to chuckle though at those places where the 20-year-old clerks were required to ask if I wanted the senior rate or not. At first I felt super old. They must be asking because I looked old. That wasn’t the case, however, when I pressed the issue. It was similar to being carded; if you even remotely looked like you could be 55, the clerks were required to ask. They always asked with down-cast eyes.

          I’m thrilled to be 65; no, seriously I am.

Kali

          All the presents have been opened and are currently claiming space on cleared shelves, in organized closets, on table tops or in drawers. The decorations are down and stowed until next year and some of the leftovers from delicious meals have been pushed into the freezer to be used for soup fixings during the coming chilly weeks.

          I’m reflecting; reflecting on what the holidays meant as a whole and how grateful I feel for the bounty of this time with loved ones. The lingering thought at the end of this reflection is about this black, furry, three-legged, slightly skittish present I received nearly three years ago.

          One major thing you need to know about me in this, our blog ‘relationship,’ is how I feel about my cat, Kali. It’s pretty unreasonable and can make some of my closest friends uncomfortable. My love for Kali is over the top. I can just look at her and burst into tears. Is this the way it is with children? I don’t know as I never had any. And, come to think of it, it’s not like I birthed her or anything. So why do I feel this hyper level of care and devotion?

          About three years ago my friend/neighbor/realtor Robert and I both were in the market for pets. He wanted a doggie and I wanted an indoor cat. We took getting these animals on as a major project visiting every single shelter and Humane Society in two local counties multiple times. Every weekend we’d head out and see who might be out there waiting for us. We did this for two complete months. We each came close to getting a particular animal but, for some reason, never completed the process. Then it happened.

          One day Robert found his doggie, Princess, a white bichon frise mix, at the local pound, and two days later I found Ali at the local Humane Society. She was hidden in the back of a small room crowded with outgoing cats. The moment I sat down on the floor, she boldly popped out of the corner and began rubbing against my thigh. It was then I noticed she hopped on three legs. Her rear left flank was shaved where her leg had recently been amputated.

          She seemed starved for attention. Although somewhat shy about letting me get too close, she obviously couldn’t get enough of the feel of my thigh smashed up against her sweet face, as she rubbed and purred against me. I found out she had been attacked by a dog and her leg hung lifeless for several days before the young couple who owned her brought her to the Sonoma County Humane Society where they gave her up because they couldn’t afford the cost of surgery.  As a one-year-old, she was in good health in spite of this trauma, so the doctors operated to remove the dead limb and neutered and micro chipped her at the same time.

          Ali was two weeks out from that surgery when I met her. From that first meeting, I knew she was mine and I went home immediately to make the necessary plans for her arrival the next day. The first thing I did was change her name to Kali, which means black in India. My spouse’s ex-wife’s name was Ali, and that just wouldn’t work, either for me or her.

          Kali couldn’t survive outside with only one back leg, so she’s content to consider the inside of my home her entire world. She only once tried and succeeded in dashing out the front door. She scooted around the house and wound up in a parking area, bawling loudly. I lured her out into the open with wet cat food, and scooped her up into tightly clenched arms. She and I both were trembling. Ever since that day, she’s never been interested in going outside. I could leave the front door wide open and she’d just sit and stare at it.

          Even now she’s quite skittish…hates loud noises, ice cubes rattling around in the ice tray, the sound of tinfoil being ripping off the roll, any sudden movements, boisterous guests, the door on the dishwasher being opened or closed or doing ANYTHING with plastic bags.  I gladly tolerate this behavior from her. She’s been through quite enough trauma. 

          But if I don’t shower or put my makeup on, if I have a grumpy day with nothing good to say or do, if I get too busy and ignore her or if I go on vacation and leave her for two weeks in the care of others, she’s always loving to me, happy to curl onto my lap, or lick my leg or (gulp) reach out a tiny paw to my cheek when I cry (seriously!).

          I’d like to think I saved her, but when I look into her soft kitty eyes and feel she’s seeing into my soul, I realize she saved me. She saved me from never having felt that level of love from an animal friend.

          She must know I’m talking about her. She just rubbed up against my legs. Then again, it IS dinnertime. Maybe that’s all it is.

New Year: Fresh Starts

          It’s not so much about making resolutions, resolutions which I’ve historically only been able to keep for about a week at the most. It’s not about sincere yet vaporous agreements with myself to eat better and exercise more. Okay, it used to be, but, now that I’m officially a senior citizen, I’ve cut way back on being naïve about such promises.

          It’s about new beginnings. Today is the first day of a new year and the first day of the rest of my life (gag). In spite of the saccharine nature of the latter part of that statement, I take a moment and wonder what the New Year will bring. During the last month, many of my friends have repeatedly said something like, “The new year has got be better. It can’t be any worse than this last one.” Doesn't it seem we’ve been saying that for several New Years?

         While that’s a fairly negative stance on 2012, the sentiment is borne out of many years of publicized and/or personally experienced economic turmoil, joblessness, foreclosures, rollercoaster gas prices and general uncertainty.

          And we have a new president. Not a new, new president, but a new term for President Obama. Hope springs eternal, in spite of the fiscal cliff fiasco! I promised myself, however, I’d never talk politics per se in this blog, so I divert away from any of that prickliness right now.

          January 1 is similar to the first day of spring:  it’s a fresh start. To me, having a fresh start, be it big or small, is always a good thing. It’s that moment when I take stock, about a single issue or about life in general. (If I had a dollar for every Monday morning fresh start I attempted!) In this way, fresh starts are a gift. They are always there giving us hope and not slapping us in the face if we’re not entirely successful in incorporating new and better things into our lives.

          New beginnings are age blind and economically resistant, and there are an unlimited number available to each and every one of us. What we do with them is our choice.