mulberryshoots

“happyness” . . .

I’ve been thinking about happiness lately.

Someone I’ve known for a long time whose personality was usually kind of prickly is newly very happy. She’s given up jobs that were stressful and is now able to devote all her time to doing only what she loves doing. She’s fortunate because she’s in good health, doesn’t have to worry about money and she’s made choices that have allowed her to have what she’s wanted for a long time after some false starts.

Someone else I know has recently just had a birthday and is grateful and so happy with her life: her partner, daughter, family and friends. The joy in their family is palpable while doing simple things like baking a cake together and having an indoor picnic of sandwiches to celebrate a birthday.

So, what makes people happy? Being able to do what you want to do most of the time? Not worrying about money? Being with people who are sufficient in and among themselves in relationships that are joy-giving?

Speaking of joy-giving, my husband, G. and I are not doing such a great job of it here. My recovery from a bad ankle injury in February is on a plateau while I learn how to use my foot to drive and walk again with a crutch, going to rehab once a week. Our mobility or lack of it is compounded by G.’s back injury a few weeks ago which has failed to relieve itself after twice-weekly chiropractor appointments. Yesterday was the first time that he was able to have an actual adjustment to his back. There’s a little improvement which is heartening but there’s still a long way to go, it seems.

Honestly, we’re pretty cranky. With each other and with a world that I thought we’d be able to avoid for awhile at least: not being able to carry things up and down three flights of stairs (like groceries and doing laundry.) Having to phone and ask people for help to do things that we would normally be able to do ourselves.

One of the things I’d like to do this summer is to cull out things and give them away (things stacked in closets and books to the library): a BIG clean-out instead of the timid forays that I’ve managed to carry out so far. But it requires getting some empty boxes from the liquor store to pack books in; having a strong person carry them back downstairs and load them into the car on a Wednesday when I can drive them to the library on a donation day or to Goodwill on other days.

I guess the other thing is my acute awareness of how much verbal complaining can taint my perception of the quality of how we spend our day. In an ideal world, there would be so much compassion for someone’s suffering that it wouldn’t bother me as much as it does. But it’s an imperfect world. Looking around me, I can’t think of a real reason why I shouldn’t be feeling more happy than I do right now. After all, I have a good book to read, there’s fresh food in the fridge for dinner and maybe I will start sorting things out in advance of getting some help to cart things away.

This weekend, I’m looking forward to driving up to the ocean town we visited for my granddaughter’s high school graduation last week and having lunch with an old acquaintance. I’ve already looked at the menu and might order a lobster mac and cheese and share a beet salad. For dinner, we might try out a local Portuguese restaurant called the Azorean that specializes in dishes made with calamari and octopus!

The other thing I have in my mind is to ask myself what it is that might make me feel happy again. Somehow, there must be a way to insulate myself from things that annoy me so much and to neutralize my irritation with our situation. I think that part of what’s bothering me is the undeniable fear that our joint helplessness is a sign of age and that things will get progressively worse rather than better. Writing this post has been helpful in excavating that anxiety from the darker recesses of my mind and bringing it forth to the light of my consciousness.

After all, I could also decide that perhaps it’s not all that bad if we consider this phase as being temporarily handicapped, rather than a permanent condition. As usual, everything depends upon what attitude we take about things. I’ll have to do some work on mine, that’s for sure!

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June 9, 2014

hermitage . . .

(Friday, June 6th): Today, G. and I are making our way up to the coastal town where our granddaughter, A. is graduating from high school tonight. Other relatives and family are doing the same from as far away as Minneapolis, Chicago and Arizona. These family occasions spaced years and sometimes even a decade apart, bring people together who would not normally see each other at all, (like me and my ex-husband.) So, there’s opportunity to either mix and visit or avoid people due to the large numbers of people present. There’s nothing easier than being invisible in the midst of many, is there?

Sort of reminds me of the search to find Taoist hermits that Red Pine and others made to the secluded mountains of Sian in China. Bill Porter thought that hermits were in plain sight sometimes, because you might not know that you were looking right at them. I think it’s a good example to take for this sojourn. I can be there for my graduating granddaughter and to retreat in strength and quietude the rest of the time.

This will be a good tactic because neither of us is wholly well. I am able to walk and go on stairs using a crutch. As of yesterday, I’m even able to drive a little, using my left foot to brake. G.’s back and nerve pain are not much better these days. What a pair we make! The younger generation has taken over in case anyone noticed (meaning me.) I keep a rather firm hand on what we do over the holidays at my house. But my daughters are certainly capable and willing to “take it from here.” We’ll see how this sea change goes this weekend. I’ll let you know too.

(Monday, June 9th): Well, we made it! While it was a little grueling physically and we needed and had lots of help from my daughters, M. and C. to fetch things from the car to our little studio room (see ‘room with a view’) G. and I managed to walk or ride in a wheelchair to the graduation on Friday night and to stay for the socials on Saturday and Sunday. Remember above when I mentioned all the folks convening? There were three pairs of exes and current marriages across two generations. When the reason for getting together is to celebrate a young person’s graduation, poised to enter a whole new world for her, people can be gracious and cordial towards each other, especially when there are lots of people around. This self-regulated kind of gentility can do wonders towards mitigating long-festering resentments, misunderstandings and tension.

On the other hand, some things don’t change that much. Throughout the entire weekend, only one remark rankled me to bits. But G. my husband, had this wise admonition: “a good man is worth reproach.” In this case, I took his advice. The rest of the weekend went well. The weather couldn’t have been more beautiful. Our granddaughter was happy and relaxed, surrounded by her friends and family. There was plenty of food and I only had to be a Chinese hermit for a little while. We had help packing and emptying the car, only forgetting some of G.’s meds which will be mailed to us soon by my daughter C. Thanks to all for a good time!

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June 7, 2014

‘ a room with a view’ . . .

There’s nothing like getting away to a tranquil seaside place for a few days. Last night, we attended our granddaughter’s high school graduation in the high school gym, filled with enthusiastic families and friends. G. and I managed to get back and forth from the car, he in a wheelchair and me using a crutch to balance my recovering ankle. Once they announced the scholarships and diplomas, the graduates, in one motion, moved their tassels from one side to another with big grins on their faces. Sweet!

We left and stopped by the little 7-11 and bought a bag of ice and a large bottle of Schweppes ginger ale. Safely back in the place we’re staying in, we quenched our thirst and caught up on our email. The bed had a very firm mattress which was a huge boon for our aching backs. I put some pillows and elevated my foot while I slept.

This morning, we made coffee and cinnamon toast, G.’s standby for breakfast and I went out for the newspaper. Our host stopped by and we had a nice chat. We look forward to the rest of this celebratory weekend and a bonus has been discovering this wonderful place to stay. We’ll be back for sure!

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June 4, 2014

confidence? . . .

Actually, I think that confidence and attitude is just about everything to how we go about our day. I went to my first rehab physical therapy appointment tonight. Up to now, I’ve been hobbling around, still using a wheelchair every so often, going up and down stairs gingerly using a crutch. My ankle feels like a solid block of concrete, not blood, bones and flesh. The PT examined my foot and leg, asked me to do some standing exercises and told me that I would see improvement in 4 weeks and real improvement in 12 weeks. . . in a year’s time, she said, I’ll never know I had the injury.

Up to now, I’ve worried in the back of my mind that my ankle would never loosen up all the way and that I might walk with a limp. Not so, it turns out. My mood brightened considerably after the visit. She even said I could try how it feels to drive a car and test myself in a large empty parking lot. So now, a little more confidence has entered my consciousness. When we returned, I came up the stairs using a crutch, carrying a couple of LL Bean packages upstairs too.

Tomorrow, I plan to carry a bunch of G.’s shirts down to the basement laundry room to bleach. It almost feels like someone has waved a magic wand and has tacitly give me permission to get well. TRULY get well. Yeah, sure–the surgeon said I could use 100% weight on my foot as of last week. But I wasn’t confident then. I kept remembering what he had told me during the first visit after surgery that he hoped the repair would work; and that he had avoided making two incisions, letting some of the broken bone heal by itself without more plates being inserted. The PT said that the healing also has to do with whether the screws holding the plates go through my bones or not. We’ll take another look at my X-rays to see what’s going on in there.

Meanwhile, I now have more confidence to use my foot more. And when it’s tired, I’ll continue to rest the foot higher than my heart on the couch at night. Time heals all, they say. And I’m thankful to be this far along.

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June 1, 2014

good advice . . .

So, I guess you know that our granddaughter, A., is going to Johns Hopkins University in the Fall. We’re excited about driving up to be at her high school graduation this coming weekend and we’re planning to manage getting there with some helpers along the way. In the meantime, we’re hoping that G.’s back will improve along with my mood by that time.

We have two apartments that are rented on the second floor of our Queen Anne Victorian home and the smaller back apartment has been occupied by a UMassMedical student for the past few years. “C.” has been a model tenant: studious, responsible and patiently good humored when something needs to be fixed. We invited him to have dinner with us last night and it was good to catch up on his plans for this upcoming last year of medical school. He’s done well with his studies, getting A’s on his exams and applying himself to being accepted to his specialty for clinicals in advance of applying for residencies at hospitals located in Boston and New York City.

Today, he helped us hang out clean sheets out on the line since both G. and I are rather limited these days on being able to do simple chores like that. When he brought the dry sheets back upstairs before lunch, I asked him what advice might be helpful to a college freshman going away to college and what had worked well for him. He mentioned that he’d been through 4 years of college, 2 years of graduate school and now, 3 years of medical school and his response was:

“Everybody’s different. There’s no advice that works for everyone. Find out what works best for you and stick to it.”

He said that many of his classmates study at the library before exams and that what he found works for him is to study intensively by himself for three days before an exam. That’s what works for him and not to worry that he should do what OTHER students did (in the library) just because that’s what works for THEM. Of course, finding what works best for us, individually, can also be a trial and error process we have to discover for ourselves on our own.

This may sound like bland advice. But, in my generation, certain “rules” for studying were doled out: “don’t let yourself get behind,” “ask if you don’t understand something,” etc. among others. Nowhere did someone say, “be yourself and find out what works best for you…then stick to it!”

So that, dear reader, is a generation gap that’s worth mentioning, don’t you think?

“Vive la difference!”

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May 30, 2014

more “new normal” . . .

Hey, guess what? I’m not the only invalid around here anymore!

My husband, G., who moves, tunes and takes care of pianos, is suffering from a pinched nerve/vertebrae in his back and suddenly, the tables have turned and I am now the one going downstairs using only a cane to fetch the morning newspapers off the front stoop. He was lucky to see our chiropractor yesterday and is there for a follow-up adjustment and ultrasound treatment this morning.

What this means for us is that because he has difficulty going up and down stairs, carrying my wheelchair down and up is now out of the question. I’ve put on my thinking cap to figure out how to do grocery shopping without being able to use a wheelchair at the store, never mind trying to figure out how groceries would be carried up to the third floor where we live in our splendid treetop home!

Then, I remembered a suggestion that one of my daughters, C., had made very early on when I was waiting to have surgery on my broken ankle: to use Stop and Shop’s Peapod online ordering and delivery service to buy groceries. For a long time, I resisted the idea, feeling like this is something the “rich and famous” might do or that the helpless infirm/elderly might have to do in New York City (ordering from De Luca’s!) and that there would be a hefty premium to buying food this way. Plus, I like to pick out things myself but the current exigency we’re faced with rapidly blew that prejudice out of the water too.

“This is great,” said the little red hen to myself, as I browsed the online grocery store–so many choices, reasonable quantities and I was able to find just what I wanted. This was at 2 in the morning last night when I couldn’t sleep, feeling depressed about the two of us getting older and not being able to do simple routine things, mentally looking into the abyss of how to manage things “later.”

My mood brightened this morning when I discovered that this kind of process for shopping is actually much more efficient than walking around a store. I can reflect on the meals I want to make and add on ingredients I sometimes forget about (like fresh rosemary for lamb loin chops;) and, after tightening the list of what we’ll eat for lunches, dinners and breakfast for six days until we travel up to Rockport to visit and celebrate our granddaughter’s high school graduation next week, I cut out extras and purchased ONLY what we’ll use for the duration. I’m surprised and pleased to discover that online ordering allows one to more comfortably select what we decide to buy.

With my Stop and Shop card, the program also automatically deducts savings that I would normally get in person. And a rolling shopping cart adjusts on the screen as you remove or add items which helps you to see how much you’re spending as you go along. At the store, you don’t see that final number until it’s been rung up–usually 20% more than you thought you might be spending, right? Being in control of how much you are spending before racking up the total is a way to keep on a budget in real-time. I loved it!

To top it all off, I went online for promo coupons and found a code that took $20 dollars off my first Peapod order! The delivery charge was only $6.95 (for an order >$100) and I selected a delivery window of 12:00 noon to 2:00 pm tomorrow (Saturday.) I’m also allowed to add anything I forgot to the shopping list until 3 p.m. this afternoon. Very convenient. Also avoids buying mistakes that occur every so often when written lists are somehow “lost in translation.” Best of all, the groceries will be delivered to me all the way up here on the 3rd floor when they arrive!

VOILA!! All food-buying logistical challenges seem to be resolved. Now, THAT’s a “new normal” that I could really get used to!

POSTSCRIPT: The proof is in the pudding as they say: so here’s a report on how the Peapod delivery turned out. I received an email alert that the delivery was going to happen soon. I went downstairs with one crutch and saw the big Stop and Shop Peapod truck drive by and then slowly came back, parking along the street. A tall young man walked up the driveway carrying about four full plastic bags of groceries. His name was “Tom” and he wanted to bring the groceries up to the 3rd floor. He made a second trip, carrying up another set of bags up to the kitchen. When we unpacked everything, I was impressed by the size of the vegetables (squash, zucchini, beets) and particularly the freshness of the kosher chicken legs and lamb loin chops whose sell by dates were not until mid-June! I gave Tom my thanks and tipped him for bringing the groceries to our kitchen. So, my review of this first order to Stop and Shop Peapod is FIVE STARS!!

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May 28, 2014

“new normal” . . .

Ever since I had a bad fall and broke my ankle in February, life changed quickly. For a few halcyon weeks, almost nothing mattered but being helped through surgery and recovery concerns.

Being transported up and down three flights of stairs required a band of brothers to help carry me in a chair like a palanquin, moving down one stair at a time. A heavy cast remained on my leg for weeks on end that made it hard to get a good night’s sleep.

Lying on the couch so that I could elevate my swollen foot higher than my heart was key to keeping edema from getting in the way of natural healing. Last Friday, I was told by my orthopedic surgeon that I could now put 100% of my weight on the injured foot–upped from 25% for the past four weeks. And instead of the heavily padded removeable boot, a slender tie-up splint was wrapped around my foot.

Honestly, I can’t get used to it. I’ve been favoring the injured leg for so long, being so cautious getting in and out of the shower, sitting while washing my hair and finally learning how to maneuver on crutches up and down the stairs instead of being carried to go out to the car to go on appointments or on occasion to go to the grocery store.

Now, there is a “new” normal to getting to really normal. I think it’s mostly psychological in that there seems to be a need for more confidence to enter my head before I go around walking on the favored foot without the benefit of my wheelchair, crutches and walker. You’d be surprised how much I’ve enjoyed wheeling around our place in situ. Now, I’m almost able to skip the crutches (sort of like skipping learning how to crawl for babies) and find my way around with little more than holding on to a walker or backs of chairs in the kitchen.

Today, my granddaughter, A. is coming for lunch! I am surprising her with homemade cinnamon rolls when she arrives, because they are her favorite and she hasn’t been able to be here on Christmas Day–which is when we usually eat them while opening presents. We will also be visiting my local jeweler who has put together a special gift for her graduation, scheduled for ten days from now. We are thrilled that she’ll be a freshman at Johns Hopkins University this Fall.

How times change.

And how a “new normal” can now include things that we never thought of before. I was thinking that we can also decide to exclude old bad habits and “have to’s” from entering a “new normal.”

Hey, maybe there’s no “normal” to worry about at all, come to think of it!

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May 26, 2014

“keep life simple” . . .

I was browsing online today and came across these three words in italic written on a plain sheet of paper. Sounds (really) good to me. How does it sound to you?

For me, keeping life simple would be to:

1. play the piano

2. feed the canary

3. eat moderately

4. drink water

5. sleep well

6. don’t worry

7. be kind

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May 18, 2014

“joie de vivre!” . . .

Recently, I’ve been amusing myself by keeping up with the engagement news of Amal Alamuddin and George Clooney. Notice I put her name first. Whether or not the public is fascinated by the fact that he seems gaga in love and wants to marry her is one thing. I, on the other hand, am entranced by how attractive and together she looks in the photos of her dressed up to go back to work in London. Reportedly, she had her hair and nails done at the John Frieda salon there. Clooney, reportedly, is joining her in London to look for a place to live “so that she can continue her international law career.”

That’s nice, but with the strong human rights interest they share politically, the sky’s the limit on what they might do together: a new Brad-Angelina humanitarian dynamic duo. In my mind, he’s perhaps as lucky if not luckier than she is that they are together, the bling ring, not withstanding. And it sounds like they will be getting married sooner rather than later. Fun to stay tuned.

So, why am I writing about this celebrity fluff? Because I think their example is not only one of charm because they are both so good looking, but because they also both look like they’re in love with each other in a comfortable, familiar way that many invisible couples also share.

Maybe some would react with envy but not me. Instead, I feel a sense of “joie de vivre” (joy in living) from the depiction of their lives. That is, there’s no reason we shouldn’t “go for it” too in the context of our own lives. And there’s no reason we should hold back on how much fun and love we can experience in our lives as much as they seem to be doing in theirs. For me, whatever passive resistance I may have had in the past about waiting or not doing something because of (fill in the blanks,) there’s no valid reason to keep holding back if we decide to open up ourselves to new possibilities.

We’ve been talking about taking a driving trip to Nova Scotia for over a year and seeing the rugged coast of the Bay of Fundy. Even with my laid-up leg and slow recuperation not being able to drive yet, there’s no real reason not to start planning a trip. It also feels like it would be a good idea for me to make the trek on my crutches down and up the stairs (3 floors) more often, in order for me to be outdoors more and to see the dogwood blossoms up close and personal with my own eyes rather than through photos that G. took yesterday.

So, it isn’t just celebrities who can be joyful about being in love or finding “the one,” the rest of us have our own capacity for being happy too. Whether it’s buying some frozen fruit popsicles (pineapple? coconut?)to eat while watching the finale of “The Good Wife” on TV tonight, or finally hanging some hooks into the door of a kitchen cabinet for potholders and strainers so they are easier to reach, especially from a wheelchair, G. and I can make improvements and look forward to many other things in our own lives. It just takes figuring out what they are and then going for it.

It’s a quiet Sunday morning and the sheets are laundered, hanging out on the clothesline on a beautiful sunny day. What more could I ask for?

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May 17, 2014

new growth . . .

In front of our Queen Anne Victorian home, we’ve had a mountain laurel tree growing in the courtyard garden for over twenty years. Then one night a few years ago, there was a heavy rainstorm and we heard what sounded like a soft sigh in the middle of the night. We woke to see the tree toppled over from internal rot that wasn’t visible from the outside.

Our despair was softened by a four foot high shoot that seemed sturdy and ready to bear leaves. Ah, a baby tree that might replace the ill-fated parent tree. It grew to be about eight feet tall until we noticed last year that the leaves shriveled up and that life had seeped away from it too. Bereft, we dug it up and mourned its loss. Meanwhile, across the street at G.’s mother’s house, the decades old weeping cherry tree was also damaged during a storm and taken down, leaving a bare patch near the driveway.

I did some research on replacement trees and made the rounds of some nurseries in the towns nearby. Flowering pear trees appeared alongside the post office, white and fluffy for awhile but were uninteresting to me. Down the street a ways was a mature coral dogwood tree whose branches had filled out bearing flowers, both lovely and modest. I went to Lowe’s on the suggestion of a neighbor down the street and came across two six foot high dogwood saplings for $29.95 each. I bought them both and carted them home in my Subaru wagon. Into the ground they went here and also across the street. Then, we wondered aloud how long it would take before flowers might appear on the small trees.

Kept upstairs like Rapunzel due to my ankle injury in February, I have only been able to be down in the yard for medical checkups and out to the grocery store. Lo and behold this week, our dogwood and the one across the street bloomed. What a wonderful sight to see them yesterday, and so heartening after a winter filled with anxiety and being cooped up.

This blossoming coincided with a new way for me to manage things in my life: to be less passive about things or people that bother me, and to nip in the bud situations that festered long enough, some of my own making, but mostly not. One by one, I took them on with polite firmness. As each fell by the wayside, I felt better and better.

The dogwood blossoms bear out this new flowering of my psyche. Oh, isn’t it great that it’s finally Spring?

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