My Aging Brain

Jul 14, 14 My Aging Brain

Posted by in Dear Diary

I can tell I am aging from the way my brain works. It isn’t as flexible as it once was. I used to find it much easier to go with the flow…to let things happen and to make it all work. Now, I am more attached to my schedule, to having things the way I want them. I like having a plan. I don’t really want to be flexible. I want things my way. I see the change and I imagine it means I am aging, but I don’t really care. I like the more planned version of my former self. I love the way I can orchestrate my life to be about how I want it to be. This new-found desire to plan shows me all the places where I don’t have the time to plan, too. Like when we invited people over for drinks and Mel and I were both too busy to go and put the cushions out on the patio furniture and to make it all “nice” before they came. I realized that I don’t like the stress of entertaining in a half-done sort of way. But, with 3 kids, two dogs, two acres, full-time (ish) work and a myriad of friends and family, we don’t have the luxury of a well-organized life so I am still flying by the seat of my pants even though I desire a carefully planned life. I sometimes dream of retirement as if it is a kind of time porn—endless time to move slow, make decisions, talk over coffee, read the paper and feel in control. Instead I feel like a puppy tied to the back of a station wagon loping along behind trying to keep up with a life that pulls me along with a variety of the kid’s activities, work meetings, and social engagements. I keep up most of the time. Every now and then, I check myself. I look around at the chaos and think to myself, “this is as good...

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Valentine’s Day: I Love You

Feb 14, 14 Valentine’s Day: I Love You

Posted by in Family, Mel & Me, Our Story

Some days I am overcome by love.  When I pull up at the school and let my kids out,  I watch them tromping off with their lunch boxes and backpacks and my heart fills up until it overflows and fills my eyes with tears. I love being married and seeing how good we can make it and how fast we can recover from when we make it bad–when we mess up and have to fix it or get over it. I read a friend’s blog recently.  He was describing the death of his lover.  His raw words of love touched me deeply.  It was as if he opened his heart on the page–splayed open for everyone to see.  It was just love.  I loved him for the open-hearted love he shared. I watch my parents aging and I want to ease their way.  I want them to stay eternally young like they are in my mind.  I want to be able to spare them the agony of growing older.  I want to protect them from the elements of time and my heart fills with love and compassion for their humanness and frailty.  I love them so much and yet my love can’t keep them from experiencing their challenges. I think of two family members who got mad at me and don’t talk to me anymore.  On bad days I protect myself with anger and on good days I remember that their anger can’t make me stop loving them.  Memories of them fill my heart and I surreptitiously send loving thoughts their way and wish them well. I love dinner parties.  There is something about the echo of laughter over food that fills my heart.  I love the people I laugh with.  Especially if they think my jokes are funny. I love saying I love you to friends.  It was something I realized years ago.  It did once go bad when I told my friend Mara I loved her in a phone message.  Her husband listened...

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