What makes old, Old?

old

/ōld/

Adjective Having lived for a long time; no longer young. Made or built long ago: "the old quarter of the town".

Synonyms ancient - aged - olden - antique - former I was standing by the stove, waiting on the tea kettle to heat, stirring some old lime honey I bought two years ago, wondering if I added it to my blueberry/pineapple tea if I would get botulism. I recalled a recent visit with my sister. My mom was over and we three were making tea. My mom poured the water too soon before boiling and I had to microwave it and re steep the tea. I remember looking at my sister as if to say "what is she thinking?" Why would I even feel like that? Haven't I ever made a silly mistake? Why does she deserve ridicule? I'm sure my children wonder at my imperfections and slips all the time. Is 73 old? Now that I am nearing 50, it sure doesn't seem that way. I always thing of my mother at my age now. It throws me when I realize she is tired ad doesn't have much stamina. So is my 90 year old grandmother old? Does being confused, feeble, unable to walk more than a few steps, or  unable to remember the last topic of conversation make you old? Can you be old at 15?     old soul A spiritual person whom is wise beyond their years; people of strong emotional stability.  Basically, someone whom has more understanding of the world around them.   I know that I feel very old and out of touch when listening to my two twenty something daughters. Our age difference was never more apparent  than when I was in Texas with the two of them. They chatted, partied, discussed things I had never even heard of. I was very content to tag along, absorbing some of their energy, but in reality it sapped mine. Is that old? I just got word that my 3oth high school r3eunion is this summer. So does that mean I am old? My mind feels 23. These days my body feels 73. I am breaking down and oh so ready to build back up. After the broken foot heals, I will slowly, hopefully get back in shape. Since my break, and sitting with no weight on my foot, I cannot believe how quickly I tire. This weekend my youngest took me to church, out to lunch then to Target to get a few groceries. I could not keep my eyes open past 5:30. My word.   I recently heard that my great grandfather was apt to say when feeling down: "I've showered shit and shaved and ready to go." Which makes perfect sense to me.   "You are only as old as you let yourself feel" So, I am going with 48 today. Watching is slowly snow all day, knowing I do not have to get out in it. Writing reports on breeds of sheep for my spinning class. Texting with my husband and oldest daughter. Healing.   "Old is as old does" Next week I will focus on 38, although there is nothing wrong with 15, 48, 90 or 73. They all have their positivesd and negatives.   "Forget what they say about the teenage years. There is something about maturity that allows one the freedom to grow without fear of reprisal or criticism - and that is huge!"   I will never look at my mother's missteps with judgement again for I will soon be her age and my children will see me, hopefully as still 48, wondering when I got old.

Roxy Iron Heart

my daughter bought a dog last week.
a two year old rescue besenji and boxer or pit bull mix.
I think her theme song should be Little Bitty Pretty One by Bobby Ray.
Just seems to fit how I imagine she prances.

My head if swirling with stories of this little girl.
And even as a companion for Karl, a fiction piece my daughter wrote,
that I am in love with.
I wish I could kick her into gear to write about this character that I am so enamored with!

Maybe if I give her some prompts:

Roxy apparently is a fence climber.....10 feet chain fence at the vet's to get to her neighbor lab.
I imagine the lab being afraid and Roxy leaping clear over, landing with a puff of dust,
to comfort the new arrival.
You see, Roxy was scheduled to be put down before the local shelter took her in in June.
My daughter adopted her in January.
Roxy was on the jogging program.
Good thing my daughter is a runner,
although Roxy seems a bit annoyed when V must take walk breaks.

My youngest believe that Roxy was in a prison gang, thus how she escaped so many close calls.
I imagine a Hogan's Heroes adventure, with fluffy, timid Charlie as
the sidekick the lookout, the one who pretends to be injured and cries out in pain
to get the attention of the evil ice people.
His only defence is chewing on his leash he carries around his neck.

I believe Roxy needs a turquoise collar (pink is too feminine for Roxy Lion Heart)
with a lam'e cape attached at the back.
Roxy also has a tattoo!
Oh the vet says it was given to her after she was spade.
Silly vet.
It is the mark of the string bearers!
( You should definitely get that as your next tattoo V!)

I imagined Karl having adventures in bumper cars at a carnival,
Trekking across the lands in search of.......
meeting all kinds of interesting quirky folk.
It makes me happy now that he has companions.
You see, Karl is simple and kind.
He is easily distracted and fooled and led astray.
Now with Roxy Lion Heart and Charlie for friends...
maybe these companions are found along the trek...
they work together.

Yeah....  I am geared more for children's books.
I'm sure, especially with the original Karl stories, that an adult fiction could be written as well.
Kind of like Stephen King's Dark Tower series
or Mrs. Murphy Mysteries by Rita Mea Brown ...
I can imagine adult and children's books written with the same themes
only for different readers.
Can't you see parents and children reading the same book,
and discussing common threads?!
But not needing the other to enjoy your age's book.



So, I will put writing prompts down occasionally, and see where V takes them.

Brokenness

This sucks.
For nearly thirty of my almost fifty years, I have been independent, self reliant, the strong one who many turn to for help, a caretaker of needs and wants.
Last week, I broke my foot.  Oh, not just any break, but an "Oh Shit" from the doctor, break.
And because I don't feel pain the way most do, I didn't even realize it.
One day in a walking boot and the next day in surgery to put a plate in my foot,
and I am reduced to an invalid.

Yes, I am feeling a bit sorry for myself, but also, as I sit here and think,
I have a greater respect for others who are not as healthy as I am.
I cannot fix my own meals, shampoo my own hair, even bathe myself without help.
My dear friend came yesterday for a visit and cleaned my bathrooms and kitchen.
I sat in the family room in my chair and listened to the scum buster working.
I felt blessed and self conscious at the same time.
It's one thing to have someone vacuum for you, but bathrooms are very personal places.
My ministry team at church has brought so much food to my house that we are all eating very well!
I have had everyone tell me that if there is anything thing at all that I need, to just pick up the phone.

I think of my grandmother who lives in assisted living.
All of her personal preferences are gone.  She has no privacy or choice or much dignity left.
Along with her health, her mind is slipping away. 
A nurse found her the other evening walking the halls with nothing on but a depends on her head.
I can only reason that she thought it was a shower cap or her night cap, and she was getting ready for bed.  Nothing looked familiar, so she walked around trying to find the home she remembered so many years ago.
My mother too, has health problems.  Her heart is barely functioning, but she does the best she can every day.  She has fallen more times than I can remember, all of my life.  She has had to let others care for all of her needs many times in her life.  My father is amazing and patient.

My youngest daughter is my caretaker for a bit.
She is amazing.
Today she helped me shower.  She adjusted the showerhead, put the shower chair into the tub,
wrapped my right foot in a bag and helped me into the bathroom.
She held my hand as I  climbed into the tub and sat down.
She wrapped my foot in a towel, put all shampoo, soap and loofa within reach and gave me privacy when I was settled.
It felt wonderful and being that I am tall, I was able to adjust the spray!
I was in tears, so grateful my daughter is so loving!
She helped me out of the tub wrapped in a towel, and to my bedroom.
She got my clothes out and powder and deodorant within reach.
Then she dried and styled my hair for me.
I feel human again!

What this made me realize, being a caretaker myself, is how considerate she is.
Being a caretaker is a practical responsibility.  Not many feelings or thoughts other than getting the job done as best and quickly as you can.
Now I understand that showing respect to the patient is oh so very important.
It's not just you doing what you can, but they are feeling helpless, emotional, embarrassed and hurting.  It is a horrible feeling.

So, sitting here in my chair, with my knitting, books, computer and tv remote within reach,
feeling badly that my grandmother is in the hospital preparing to go into a nursing home,
and I cannot even comfort her, I am grateful for all of the caring people around me and her.