“Not in Assisted Living (Yet): Dispatches from the Edge of Independence!

Welcome to my World---Woman, widow, senior citizen seeking to live out my days with a sense of whimsy as I search for inner peace and friendships. Jeez, that sounds like a profile on a dating app and I have zero interest in them, having lost my soul mate of 42 years. Life was good until it wasn't when my husband had a massive stroke and I spent the next 12 1/2 years as his caregiver. This blog has documented the pain and heartache of loss, my dark humor, my sweetest memories and, yes, even my pity parties and finally, moving past it all. And now I’m ready for a new start, in a new location---a continuum care campus in West Michigan, U.S.A. Some people say I have a quirky sense of humor that shows up from time to time in this blog. Others say I make some keen observations about life and growing older. Stick around, read a while. I'm sure we'll have things in common. Your comments are welcome and encouraged. Jean
Showing posts with label MeetUps. Show all posts
Showing posts with label MeetUps. Show all posts

Thursday, May 14, 2015

The Beatles, MeetUps and Chocolate Cake



The co-chairmen of the luncheon that I worked on Monday and Tuesday sure knew how to organize and treat their volunteers. After we finished up the first day they treated us to a “Thanks, Volunteers” cake with ice cream and a goody bag to take home. That’s never happened the other times I’ve volunteered at the senior hall. Someone made the comment that they were setting the bar high and “I like it!” she added. It was a pleasure working for people who were so well organized. I could have done without the sinfully delicious chocolate cake and salty caramel ice cream but it’s not their fault that I can’t resist getting a sugar high whenever the opportunity presents itself. I don’t gamble, drink or spend money I don’t have on things I don’t need but I lack self-control when it comes to desserts that got withheld when I was a kid if I didn’t eat my vegetables. Yup, I’m blaming my mother. Isn’t that what we all do when we don’t want to take responsibility for our own actions? 

The "Write and Share” group that I got invited to took place at the library this week and it turned out to have been organized through the MeetUp website. MeetUps in general look interesting. You can organize one (or find one already organized) for just about anything you want to get involved in. Just go to the MeetUp website by typing your city and state into your browser plus ‘+MeetUp’ and a whole new world will open up. Within twenty-five miles from me, for example, are 266 MeetUp groups for things like: mushroom hunters (38 members), Bible study, dancing (269 members), sport fans of every kind, singing, book clubs in various genres, restaurant hoppers, walkers, quilters, women 60+, geeks (188 members), and 63 people are in a MeetUp titled “forage for food”---whatever that is. Since most of these groups meet in public places and you communicate through the MeetUp website, it looks like a safe way to meet like-minded people. 

There were just five people at the Read, Write and Share MeetUp I attended but two more are planning to join us next time. It was fun and a little scary reading an essay I wrote out loud. But it was well received as were the other pieces people wrote and read. One guy, 50 years old and back in college to study photo journalism, said he hasn’t written anything in many years. Two women (40 and 70 I’m guessing) have been writing and submitting things for decades and another woman in her sixties writes memoir stuff similar to what I write and I felt the two of us were well matched. The woman who organized the meet is very knowledgeable, is a skilled facilitator and set a nice tone for critiques. I came home from the session completely happy that I joined. Afterward, several of us got back on the RWS MeetUp web page and made comments. It’s like a mini message board for just our MeetUp group and I can see where that will enrich the group experience. I have the feeling we’re all going to get to know each other well.

Wednesday night I went to see the off-off Broadway production of Rain, a Tribute to the Beatles. It was billed as: “a live multi-media spectacular that takes you on a musical journey through the life and times of the world’s most celebrated band. Going further than before, this new RAIN adds even more hits that you know and love from the vast anthology of Beatles classics such as I Want To Hold Your Hand, Hard Day’s Night, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, Let It Be, Come Together and Hey Jude.” I hate going downtown and I just won’t do it on my own, but going on the senior center’s bus sure made attending this event easy. They dropped us off and picked us back up within ten feet of the Performance Arts Center's main door and we had great seats, at a discount rate. And for the first time in my life I was glad I was wearing hearing aids because I was able to take them out. Was that show ever loud! And colorful---like living inside a kaleidoscope. It was surround music and color. 

I haven’t been to a live production of anything in this century and I loved the experience. The jumbotrons sent me into sensory overload. Their content was so artsy-fartsy beautiful, constantly moving and triggering many memories of times gone by---news clips, art, iconic Beatles stuff, audience shots from past Beatles concerts plus our own. The music was like listening to the sound track of my life. The center holds 2,400 people and we were all on our feet several times, singing and swinging the two-fingered peace sign. At one point during the evening I was sitting there completely happy, the whole place washed in bright lights and patterns that floated all over the place, including the audience, and thought to myself, If I knew I was going blind I’d want this to be one of the very last things I see. Needless to say my first experience at the performance center, seeing the Beatles tribute, was one of the coolest things I’ve done in recent memory. ©

Sunday, May 10, 2015

The Whiny Widow



There’s a teaser promo that’s been coming on TV all week long for the finale of season six of The Good Wife, a legal drama that I haven’t watched since season one. In the promo it shows the main character, Alicia, saying, “I don’t have any friends and I don’t know why.” If there’s more to the promo than that one line, it’s going right over my head because that single sentence haunts me long after the promo is over. I’m venturing a guess---and I could be embarrassingly off base---that she has no friends because her husband and her once-best friend slept together and as a consequence she doesn’t trust or confide in others. She's a guarded person plus she’s busy being a mother and a defense attorney. How’s that for analyzing a TV character I barely know? I might just have to watch the show tonight to see why that promo line is the teaser to a storyline that’s supposed to hold viewers over to season seven in the fall.

“I don’t have any friends and I don’t know why.” That could be my theme song except for the fact that I do know why I don’t have any friends. Heck, I’ve spent all week long trying to puzzle out an explanation that doesn’t come off sounding whiny or like an excuse or a cry for someone to fix me. I’m not doing any of those things but if I was, “whiny” would probably come the closest to the truth. I’m just trying to make peace with the way things are in my life. And I guess this would be a good place to state the obvious, that I lost my very best friend and soul mate when my husband died. Before that happened, I didn’t sit around thinking about friends. Duh, I didn’t have that hole that needs filling. Like The Good Wife, I no longer have a confidante. Waaaa! Well, except for this blog. Whine, whine, whine and yes, I’ve got cheese to go with that.

Okay, moment of truth: It’s misleading to say I don’t have friends. The trouble is my closest friends and family---the ones where the give-and-take and the conversations flow seamlessly---don’t live close-by. And all the technology in the world isn’t going to give you a satisfying hug. Waaaa. Though I did get a hug this week from the son-I-wish-I-had. He stopped by. I love that guy. We chattered back and forth like a couple of magpies on a clothesline.

In the making-new-friends department, it doesn’t help that I’ve always been an independent person who is not afraid to be alone. I have this theory that it’s the people who don’t like being alone who evolve into extroverts. They invite, they organize, and they draw people to them to keep them company; me I’ve always been able to entertain myself so I depend on the extroverts to get me out of the house and away from my hobbies. Thank you, extroverts. You are an important pillar in the social order of old maids and widows. Do your thing. Just tell me where to be, when and what to bring.

I had hoped to sign up for some Olli classes this summer but everything they’re offering is dark and heavy like: The Dawn of the Nuclear Age, The Bubonic Plague, and Death Acceptance. Yuck yuck and yuck. Someone must have kidnapped all the artists and writers who normally teach the fun stuff because there isn’t a single thing in the new Osher Lifelong Learning Institute catalog that I’m interested in taking. Twenty-six classes and not one is a remotely upbeat class except for Chinese Music which conflicts with my Movie and Lunch Club. Whine, whine, whine. I am turning into a broken record. 

I have a busy week coming up. Monday and Tuesday I’m helping with the Mother’s Day banquet at the senior hall. That first day, I'll be helping to decorate the hall and setting the tables for 110 guests and on Tuesday I’ll help get the beverages ready, dish out the catered food and clean up after everyone is gone. Then later in the evening I’m going to my first “Write and Share MeetUp" at the library. Wednesday I’m going to a live musical production downtown. Thursday I have carpet cleaners coming and on Friday my Movie and Lunch Club meets. Yup, I keep throwing things into that hole in my life, hoping one day I’ll look back and say, “Where did it go? I don’t see it anymore.” I just wish I didn’t feel so restless in the meantime. What I really need is a meditation class so I can turn that whiny “Waaaa” of mine into Ommmm.  ©