Swan Song...

Yep, that's me in the tree. Reaching, as always, for the biggest, reddest apple, never satisfied with the ones within easy reach. Maybe that's what best defines my life - that constant reaching and stretching towards something bigger and better. Perhaps this picture is quite symbolic. Oh, I've certainly never really "played in the big leagues" so to speak, never made a fortune, never been famous, but in my own way, I guess, I've stretched to reach my potential, and if I've fallen short, I think it's reflected my dissatisfaction with what I once thought of as worthy goals. As I get older, I tend to value different things than I once may have. I suppose that's true of us all. In my case, I grow more and more critical of society and the paths that it has taken - the awful, mindless consumerism, the lack of awareness about the earth, the desire only for instant gratification, the immorality of a people who would vote yet another jingoistic despot into power - why? Because they, personally, are doing okay even as others struggle to hold onto their homes, feed themselves, and access decent medical care? Even as young men and women - and even greater numbers of civilians - continue to die overseas in meaningless war? Or is it simply racisim, and their inability to imagine themselves as constituents of a black president - and the fact that they'd rather see this country slide right down the tubes into oblivion than owe its survival to someone not of their skin color? Scary. I don't know the answers, but more and more, I feel alienated from all of it - feel more and more like I'm seeing it all from a bird's eye view, and that it just doesn't have all that much to do with me.
About the apple tree. Every fall, we take the granddaughter to the orchards where she and I climb up to collect the topmost apples. She couldn't climb this year because her arm is still healing from a bad break six months or so ago. So, I had to climb for us both. But, I have to admit that it wasn't as lithe and fluid an exercise as it has been in years past. A few trees that I know I would've skinned right up in the past presented some real challenges this time out. And, after we were home and had peeled and cored our twenty pound bag of apples - and created a big tray of apple crisp and four pies, this old lady needed a hot bath and a heating pad on her hip.
I'm a little sad, because despite my three mile walks every day (which include side-steps, knee lifts and kicks) there are still parts of my body that are apparently stiffening up, and getting downright stubborn about what they're willing to do. I'm afraid that this past weekend's tree climbing represented my swan song; my tree-climbing days have about come to an end.
More change.
Naturally.

Existential Angst....

"Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." -- Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5

Yeah. Exactly.

Sound and Fury. Drama. Stuff. And then nothing.

Oh yes, I have relationships - some of which are very important to me, in fact - and things to do; a job - social things, events, my exercise (walking three miles a day) so on and so forth. And I truly am invested in many of these things - interested, engaged, and happy enough about doing them. Except, of course when I'm tired and don't really feel like it, but that's neither here nor there.

More and more I find myself looking at things from a much larger perspective - looking at the way generations past and presumably generations to come lived/live/will live their lives and then step aside for the next generation to step in, "do THEIR thing" and step aside, on and on ad infinitum.

My youngest (age 31) daughter is pregnant with her second child eight years after her first was born. I think about how I was pregnant with my children - and raised them - and they grew up, became adults, and are now doing the same thing with yet one more generation. My daughter's life is very busy with her work, her husband and daughter, her friends, her church activities (she tutors school-age kids, sings in the choir, sits on the trustee board and no doubt is involved in many other things in the church of which I am not aware. At one time we were very close - spoke for sure every day, and saw each other at least a couple of times a week. Now, I'm lucky if I hear from her a couple of times a week and see her once or twice a month. And she lives five minutes away from us!

I feel like I am phasing out of motherhood, and phasing out, in general, of the *family* portion of my life. My middle daughter (age 37) has never been quite so attached as my younger girl was - we have always loved each other dearly, of course, but she was very independent as a child, and has only become more so as she has grown and matured. But with her, I'm used to a once weekly catch-up, and an occasional drop in visit when she wants to vent about her job (she's the executive director for MA & CT of a large, national non-profit organization) and, of course seeing her when we have a big family dinner for one occasion or the other. And my eldest daughter has lived her own life for many years, now - a good distance away from the rest of us, and so I don't see her often at all.

And my son lives in California. I see him two or three times a year, and speak on the phone once a month or so.

But my younger girl, I have always been very close to, and it's only been over the past year or so that I've felt her really detaching and creating a life for herself that doesn't revolve around our relationship. And it's disconcerting. Difficult. Dare I say hurtful to me? And what's truly crazy about this is that I really understand perfectly, because my damned graduate degree is in psychology/sociology!!!!!!!!!!! AND, I have done a good bit of work in exploring my own spirituality, and the sort of philosopy that advises that we detach ourselves from outcomes....etc., etc.

And that's fine, well and good so long as everything stays the same.....LOL.

Of COURSE this is all about change and my struggling for things not to change. But they will, and I will adjust, and life will, as Willie Shakespeare says, continue to creep in this petty pace from day to day, until it doesn't anymore.

No, I'm not depressed, or at least not dangerously so. Even as I write this, my mind is busy making adjustments and planning and strategizing for how I will evolve in this new set of conditions.

But I don't LIKE it, and I do sometimes wonder what the hell the point is, you know?

Yes...that's what I'm afraid of.

Sarah Palin, painted for Women's Work, an online gallery exhibit of women's political art
©Zina Saunders 2008. All rights reserved

I don't know Zina Saunders, but she has certainly hit a nerve with me with this painting. Somehow, this image reached inside me and reverberated loudly. Yes. That's what I'm afraid of. Palin just seems like the ultimate right-winger - the strongly committed Christian who will fight a woman's right to end a pregnancy that will do no-one, including the unborn child, one iota of good. I worked as a social worker for a state agency for ten years after graduation from college, and saw the effects of unwanted pregnancies - and pregnancies resulting from incest and rape - play themselves out in the lives of neglected and abused children, and in children who were literally killed or maimed psychologically and physically for life, and unashamedly admit that in many of those cases, I came to believe that abortion would have been the kinder, gentler solution. It's easy - yes, EASY - for members of the religious right to insist that every pregnancy should result in a live birth, because THEY don't have to deal with the consequences, don't have to witness the life-long pain and anguish caused by their determination that their will should prevail. I've seen it, tried to rectify some of the damage, and far too often, haven't been able to. I once took a 13-year-old rape victim to an abortion clinic to get an abortion. That's right. And there was a Catholic priest pacing in front, carrying a sign with a photo of a shredded fetus on it. He approached us with an appeal for my young client to "think twice before committing murder." (If only the rapist had thought twice before committing rape, eh?) I looked at the man with what must've seemed like pure hate in my eyes, and said to him, "So are YOU going to adopt and raise all these babies you're trying to save?" Like I said, easy to take a stand when after your shift is over on the picket lines, you can go home, ask the housekeeper to brew you a nice cuppa tea and maybe bring you a little snack - no messy babies crying, no snotty-nosed children dragging on your robe, no worrying about how you're going to feed, clothe, and house them. But - once that fetus that you've saved from murder reaches 18 or so years of age, you have no problem supporting an adminstration that will now send him/her over to some foreign country to get killed. That's not murder; that's dying for your country. (Or oil, actually, which we all know is worth losing a *few* lives over). But, back to Palin - ruthless, egotistical, ambitious, dogmatic, self-serving Palin. Any woman who identifies with Sarah Palin, or buys that she is the quintessential "hockey mom" needs a serious reality check. Seriously. And call me squeamish, but that picture of her that's circulating around the internet with her and her young daughter proudly posed behind the carcass of a moose that she's shot in the face turns my stomach. Oh, enough out of me for now. I'm not 100% convinced that Obama is going to be able to make much change in the country, but I'm voting for him. The kind of change we'll see with McCain & Palin is just too gruesome to even contemplate before lunch.

Not bouncing back so quickly anymore...

I'm just now getting back to finding a moment or two to think and maybe write a few lines. This past weekend flew by, leaving me feeling like a wet dishrag that someone had wrung out and hung on the sink to dry. Seems like one of the things about getting older is that your (my) stamina decreases exponentially. Of course, I realize that we all age differently, and there are plenty of elderwomen out there engaging in much more physical - and mental - exercise than I do, and likely feeling less tired. I've never been overly physical - I skiied until I was in my early forties and a third broken ankle (same ankle, three times) caused me to hang up my skis permanently. Since then, I've done some swimming, boating, biking and hiking, but none of those on anything resembling a consistent basis. Just recently, I have discovered the Leslie Sansone *walking* videos - at home walking, that is. Walking in front of the TV set or computer monitor. I've been walking a mile in the AM before getting ready for work, another mile in my office (with the door closed) at lunchtime, and another mile when I get home from work. This exercise seems to work well for me, and what's especially good about it, I think, is that I won't have to look for alternatives when it snows out as I did last year when I was riding a bike around the neighborhood trying to get fit. Now, I'm not trying to regain my "youthful figure" - I think that's pretty much gone at this point - but I don't want to get TOO heavy, I DO want to build up some stamina, and I DO want to remain healthy if I possibly can for as long as I possibly can. But, about the LOSS of stamina - and feeling tired when I do anything out of my ordinary schedule: we went to my husband's nephew's wedding this past Saturday, out in New Haven, CT - close to a two-hour drive from where we live. We left at 3:00 in the afternoon and got home at 1:00 the following morning. Then, on Sunday, I had my daughter & her husband and little girl, and my other daughter and her husband and little boy for supper to celebrate my son-in-law's birthday. I didn't do any cooking that required a whole lot of preparation - a pork loin roast, baked potatoes with sour cream, corn (my son-in-law's favorite vegetable), a big tossed salad, homemade apple sauce, gravy, and the kids brought cakes and desserts. They all left by 7:30 or so because everyone had to be at work or school the next morning. And I was absolutely done in! I took a short soak in the tub, and was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. The weekend just flew right by, and before I knew it, my alarm clock was squawking, and it was 5:30 Monday morning. And I was STILL tired last night, and went to bed by 8:30. I'm finding that it takes me longer now, to bounce back from any change in routine. I ALSO think it makes me tired just thinking about the state of our country and those people who are vying for the head honcho positions. I won't make this a political rant, but for GAWDS sake, what are they THINKING? How sad - and gullible - can people be (or maybe the question REALLY is - how racist are they?) that they would even consider supporting a narcissistic old man like McCain with a running mate who is so flippantly nasty, so drivingly ambitious and power-hungry? Hell, if they get elected, she'll probably drop a little strychnine into his morning coffee just so she can be # 1. After all, she has no problem killing animals - and introducing her young daughters to the pleasures of shooting a moose in the face in order to pose next to it - she follows the laws of the wild, and when you could serve her interests better by dying, I don't think she'd hesitate to "cull you from the herd". If I were John McCain, and they DO get elected - well, I'd just watch my step if I were him, that's all. And, as far as her understanding foreign policy because of Alaska's proximity to Russia, an NPR commentator (I apologize for forgetting his name) said it best, I think, when he noted that he was standing next to Lake Michigan, but that "it didn't make him a duck". Now, mind you, it's not myself so much that I worry for. It's my children and grandchildren. I've lived the greater part of my own life, and I've raised my family. They're the ones who will have to deal with what happens to this country because of the greed and ruthlessness of those at the top. It'll take generations to "bounce back" from this mess. So, no wonder I feel tired, eh?

One of those days to remember....

Last Sunday, we decided to launch our new membership at Old Sturbridge Village by bringing my seven-year-old granddaughter there for the day. What fun we had! We started off with brunch at The Oliver Wight Tavern, and from there started hiking about to see the sights. Morgan is at that wonderfully inquisitive age, asking questions about everybody and everything, and her energy level is such that we were on the move constantly, except for the little bit of sitting we got to do while taking a boat ride up the river. Thanks to my two-mile-a-day walks with Leslie Sansone, I was up to the challenge, and really had a wonderful day with both Stone and Morgan, who are always laughing and carrying on together about one thing or another. Having Morgan on a Sunday is a rarity, because she is a soloist in her church's junior choir, and is typically expected to be there on Sundays. This time, we talked her mum (my daughter) into letting her play hookey for once. We're planning to visit Old Sturbridge Village as often as we can - there's so much to see, it would quite literally take days and days to see it all. Plus, there are special member's events, and we're thinking we'd enjoy thier Christmas program/dinner. It would also solve the sticky question for my children of how to plan Christmas without offending me OR their father (whom I divorced some years ago) because I've made up my mind not to spend another Christmas in his company. For the past two years, I've gritted my teeth and tolerated his presence, but last year, when he tried to press a $50 Applebee's gift certificate on me & my present husband, jovially telling us to "enjoy a meal on him", I had all I could do not to spit in his face, and that's the truth. This is the same man who was court ordered to pay half of his children's college tuition and expenses, and who never got up off a single thin dime - between loans, grants, and my share of the proceeds from selling our house, my kids all got educated. But now - now that they're all self-supporting, he wants to play doting daddy again. Tsk. Okay, enough with the bitter recriminations. Suffice it to say that rather than force the kids into an uncomfortable choice - and I know that if they had to, they would exclude him - I would rather spend Christmas eve with them and have other plans for Christmas day. We shall see. They do appear to have a lovely Christmas Day program at OSV. Okay - back to "a day to remember". Sorry for meandering off into that little unpleasantness, but if not here, then where? See? Sometimes you just go ahead and grow older, and the accompanying wisdom is a little slow in keeping up. But it's all good. My son will be home to visit on Oct. 15 for a week, and then back for Christmas, and my daughter does well and truly seem to be pregnant, and if my fellow countrymen have even a single iota of common sense, they will put Obama in the White House and end this eight-year reign of aristocratic entitlement, and maybe we can all breathe a sigh of relief. Today, incidentally, is Sept. 11. Somehow, I find it much more pleasant if I just remember it as my dad's birthday. He would be 103 if he were still alive. But I suppose that's the coward's way out. So I will think, not without pain, of those we lost on that date in 2001 - including a very good friend who was on the first plane to hit the twin towers.
Ruby Jean, you don't know how pleased I am that you found me here! Now we must lasso Ms. Close and get her here to visit, as well.
Love,
Z

Stereotypes

I am still working, of course - and planning to continue for another three years, I think, unless something unforeseen occurs. I feel like the "resident elderwoman" on my job, and have, I think, developed a reputation for quirkiness, always ready to share my own diverse views (especially in disagreement with "the team") and perhaps am fairly well respected for some degree of intelligence and wisdom (there ARE some benefits to aging.) There are a lot of younger people employed here in various and sundry capacities, some of whom I encounter on a fairly regular basis in the employee lunchroom where we all chat about this and that. Now, I should explain that outside of work, my DH and I are woodsy sorts who enjoy hiking about, climbing a rock or two here and there, and meeting up, two or three times a year with our many and varied group of friends at a woodland retreat up in the White Mountains of northern New Hampshire for long weekends (and sometimes, when everything aligns perfectly, entire weeks) of philosophical discussion and tree-hugging. Having said that, I work in an environment that requires professional dress and since it's required anyway, I tend to maintain a fairly decent "professional" wardrobe. So, yesterday at lunch, I happened to be sitting next to our young IT technician - an affable fellow in his mid-twenties, whom I've always enjoyed chatting with. I mentioned that my DH and I would be taking our granddaughter (age 7) to the apple orchards in another few weeks, and that I would once again (as I am every year) be expected to climb to the very tops of certain trees in order to pick the big, "perfect" apples that hang high above where they typically don't get picked and end up finally falling to the ground and smushed towards the end of the season. Lawrence (the IT tech) laughed and said "Riiiiiiiiiiight. You're going to climb apple trees. Sure." I. of course, was shocked at his disbelief and asked him whyever I shouldn't climb an apple tree if I wanted to. He looked a little uncomfortable, squirmed a bit in his chair, and finally replied, "You just don't look like the tree-climbing type!" Oh, I retorted, and why is that? Too elderly to haul my carcass up a tree, eh? "Oh no", he quickly replied, "You're just not my idea of someone who would be out climbing trees, is all. I mean, look at what you're wearing." Well, duh! No, I don't climb trees in my office clothes, but this wasn't about what I was wearing so much as it was about what younger people in our society expect of us older folk. I suppose it would fit his image more comfortably if I were to say that once I get home every night, I quickly don a grandmotherly housedress and apron and start stirring the stewpot. Well, I stir plenty of stewpots, but rarely in housedress and apron - more likely in jeans or sweats. Oh, I'm not offended in the slightest - it just took me by surprise, because despite my advanced years, I still think of myself as capable of doing pretty much whatever I want to do. Including climbing apple trees. It's interesting that others may see me as "too old" to do such things.

Back to the future....

I listened to Obama's speech last night, and felt guardedly optimistic - very guardedly, you understand - about his chances at being elected. I don't see Obama as some kind of savior, mind you. I think it's going to take more than decent leadership to put this country back together again. And I think it's going to take a very long time, and I'm not entirely sure that we're even going to have decent leadership, because experience has taught me to distrust the election system. The Republicans have unashamedly stolen two consecutive presidential elections in this country - we all knew they stole them, but they got away with it. So, what's to prevent them from getting away with it again? It's amazing to me the way Americans - those in leadership, I mean: those that we elected to represent us on the local, state and federal levels - have become just so completely greedy and aquisitorial that they will sell us out for what amounts to lunch money from the lobbyists. They - and by this I mean the majority, not those few exceptions who challenge the rest but get nowhere - are so focused on who owes them, and who they owe, and what they want and need for themselves that they can't afford to buck the system on our behalf, not if they want to continue living in comfort and acquisitorial splendor, they can't. It's not what they get paid for their political work that supports their lavish lifestyles, it's all those perks and side deals and constituent "appreciation" that does it. You and I - with our measly little one vote - don't even cross their radar screens. And so, the wealth in this country has rather quickly - over the past several decades - risen to the very top. And they just keep getting richer and richer, and they just keep indulging themselves more and more, and their income, which is in the multiples of millions if not multiples of billions, just keeps growing exponentially while the middle class in America is sinking just as exponentially. See that picture up there in the right hand corner of this blog? That's the child labor that built so much wealth for the robber barons of the 19th and early 20th century in this country. For many of us whose families have lived in New England for a few hundred years or more, that's where a lot of our ancestors worked from dawn until dusk six days a week - in textile and shoe mills under the worst imaginable working conditions. And while our ancestors grew old before their time, or developed serious health conditions because of the dyes and toxic chemicals used in those factories and died at early ages, the rich grew richer still - we've all read about the world of F. Scott Fitzgerald and his ilk. Those robber barons left so much money to their families that there are quiet family "dynasties" all along the northeastern seaboard where just the interest off those estates is keeping hundreds of descendants living in the lap of luxury. One such family had a little scandal within its ranks a few years back - it seems that their trusted "financial advisor" had, over a period of years, siphoned about $50 million out of their accounts. The kicker? THEY didn't even notice it! It only came up when they changed auditing firms and the new firm apparently didn't have the same arrangement with the financial manager that the old firm had. Can you imagine "not missing" $50 million????? Ah, but that's mere chicken feed to those people. Now, after WWII, the middle class in this country actually started to come into their own - actually started to send their kids to college, to buy homes, to drive decent cars, etc., etc.. The age of the robber baron was, ostensibly, over. We were growing into a new society with equal opportunity for all. Life was good. Too good, evidently, because the big dawgs got a little uncomfortable with it, and had to put their heads together to get themselves back up to the tippety-top where they belonged. And, they've done it. The chasm between rich and poor in this country is currently as big as the Atlantic Ocean, if not bigger. And, I look at that picture - at the children and women whose backs our economy was built on, and I ask myself, "Are we headed back in the same direction?" How many houses John McCain owns isn't the important question. The important question is how many houses does it take to SATISFY him and his cronies? Now I know that people see things differently than I do. If age has taught me anything, it's that arguments that seem perfectly logical to me are NOT shared by everyone. I think that they're uneducated fools who can't be bothered to think logically, but they think that there's something wrong with my thinking, so how do you get past that? How do you bring together two diametrically opposed factions? There are people out there who buy into the Republican propaganda. My favorite irony is the fellow driving down the highway in a ten-year-old rustbucket with Bush/Cheney stickers on the bumpers. Are you kidding me? You can't even afford to drive a decent car, and you think these guys should stay in office? (Obviously these are old stickers, undoubtedly slated to be replaced by McCain/whomever as soon as the new bumper stickers come out. Same car, though, only now it'll be eleven years old.) I actually have spoken online to a couple of people who are losing their homes to foreclosure, but are STILL diehard Republicans. Huh? The logic escapes me, I'm afraid. I am just fervently hopeful that folks can break through their racial biases long enough to vote for their children's future, you know? I am fervently hoping that our voting machines don't get tampered with yet AGAIN. I admit to being a bit haunted by the above picture.

Regards,

Z