by Guest Blogger Kathy Davis

I’ve talked about my struggle to embrace the concept of retirement before … but what I haven’t mentioned is the wrestling match Vigi is having with the idea. The only difference is that she’s still working and, despite my uneasiness about her being the primary bread winner, I’m leaving the ‘stay/go’ decision completely up to her. I’ve never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth and risk becoming associated with the other end!

Anyway, Vigi e-mailed her friend Kathy, who is already enjoying the fruits of retirement, asking for some advice and a pep talk. Kathy’s response just might shake a few peaches from the tree for the rest of us, and since I like to work and play well with others, here’s a bite …

“Um, excuse me, Ma’am…did you order a pep talk? Let me see if I can find one for you.

I had to smile when I read your words about wanting to be home when at work, etc. That reminds me of myself about a year and a half ago. You see, I had narrowed my vision down to that of my employer for so many years, I forgot I had a vision of my own … once. In fact, not only did I take on one employer, I took on two of them. Well, from the $$ standpoint it was a good move at the time, but it left me with zero free time for myself.

Well, one day, who should walk through the door of the restaurant but the knight in shining armor that I had prayed for! Of course, being the dedicated person I was, I didn’t recognize him … I thought he was just another customer. Okay, wrong again! After I finally became convinced that he wasn’t coming in for the food, I started to listen to what he was saying. Aside from various things about a log home in Tennessee, Harley Davidson bikes and a dog with floppy ears, all of which sounded a chord, one thing he said stood out from the rest …“You need to get a life!”

In his own quiet way, he began to show me little slices of life. Some I’d never seen, like the motorcycle. Others I had forgotten, like laughing just for the heck of it! And it started to become habit-forming. Suddenly, I found myself wanting to be where I wasn’t! Well, due to amazing stupidity on my part, for a long time I had wanted to be elsewhere when I was home … but now I wanted to be somewhere else when I was at work. I just didn’t enjoy it so much anymore. I found that my interests were shifting. Well, no, that isn’t exactly right. What happened was that I discovered I actually had interests; what’s more, I realized that I deserved to have them. Those revelations were followed closely by a resolve to go and pursue what I wanted, instead of just rolling with the tide, like I used to.

Guess what? I realized that the people at work that I had counted as friends, who had cheered for my new love and new life, were suddenly much less encouraging. It turns out, they were jealous they didn’t have the same chance for change that I did. Imagine that! They played down how much my retirement would mean to me and started to talk up all the “plusses” of working there.

Fortunately, I was just crazy enough to listen to the voice in my head instead of to them. I have found out that I was right to go ahead with my plans. Nobody at work has ever been as good a friend to me as I have been to myself in the last year. I have become centered, don’t torment myself if I don’t get unrealistic amounts of work done every day, and can relax and enjoy the people around me.

I have found a few things that I want to invest my time in … and they’re all almost free! I don’t need as much money as I thought I would, because I don’t do the things I used to that wasted my money. At the end of the day, it all turns out to be pretty simple. Life is good, now that I let myself have one. I finally let myself have MINE, instead of letting someone else have it!

Well, I need to climb off my soapbox, now. Old, retired people shouldn’t stand on things … they can get dizzy and fall off! See you soon. I hope you feel peppy, after all that!”

… and that’s what friends are for!

Listen to Bananas Crackers and Nuts Podcast. Find Links under
“Recent Podcasts”… and more shows on my Podcast Page.

The automatic doors parted like theater curtains opening to signal show time. We were promptly greeted by a whiff of urine and vinyl … along with a tired looking nurse who added the subtle scent of lilacs to the strange mix. It had been nearly a year since we last saw Ed and a week since we received the first of three calls urging us to come as quickly as possible. He was having trouble swallowing and they weren’t sure how much longer he would last. We waited through a nerve-shredding week, as spring snows closed in on both ends of a twelve hour trip and made travel impossible, until now.

When they brought Ed from his room, the first thing I noticed were his hands … they were neatly folded in his lap, no longer grasping anything or holding on as before. His head tilted downward under its own weight and he appeared to be sleeping … we were told that was pretty much what he did these days. His now fragile frame was steadied in the wheelchair by a loosely fastened seatbelt and it quickly became clear that his dignity was now slipping away in full partnership with his quality of life.

Vigi worked on weaving her daughterly magic and I worked on trying to extract that perennial wad of gum from my throat. Neither of us had much success. The air in the lounge seemed to be growing more stale by the minute, as an old wall clock ticked away the time. We decided the three of us might be more comfortable in the fresher surroundings of the solarium. For the most part Ed was unresponsive but, even so, with all the loving respect of a small girl who once found strength in resting her head on Daddy’s shoulder, Veege asked him if he wanted to go.

I would have given odds that this sunny glass porch couldn’t possibly have been part of the subterranean atmosphere on the other side of the wall. Everyone’s mood improved almost instantly … even Ed stirred a little in his chair as if something had relaxed in his soul. As we moved through what was proving to be an almost leisurely afternoon, a pleasant looking man appeared in the doorway with a little Muppet of a salt and pepper dog. “Would he like to hold the puppy?” the gentleman asked. Given Ed’s apparent condition there didn’t seem to be any point to it, but we agreed that it certainly couldn’t do any harm. After all, the dog was used to visits with the old or infirm.

Vigi settled the little creature into Ed’s lap and placed one of his hands on its back. Slowly his fingers started to move in widening circles, then he began to stroke it. He continued to pet the ball of fluff for several minutes, a quiet smile beginning to form at the corners of his mouth. Was he remembering his old friend Spooky the cat, who had occupied that very position for nearly twenty years?

Suddenly, he raised his head and looked directly at Vigi. Their eyes met for only a moment but a lifetime of understanding passed between them. Neither spoke a word. Neither had to. They made a connection! To this day, she relives that moment and it makes her feel complete. She calls it her little secret.  ”He was either telling me he was going or asking my permission to leave … but either way I know he was holding on, waiting for me to come.”

It was just about bedtime and we were packing to go home the next morning, when the phone rang. Ed had only a few more minutes … at most a few hours to go. We hurried to his bedside just in time to join the rest of the family, as the turmoil in his mind gave way to the gentleness of his spirit … and the prankster Ed we all remembered escaped to hold hands with his high school sweetheart once again.

Look for Bananas Crackers and Nuts Podcast links under
“Recent Podcasts”… also check out my Podcast Page.

His right hand clung to the wooden arm of a red utility chair, while his left clutched the arm of his wheelchair so tightly the knuckles lost most of their color.  He sat motionless as a statue, white hair spilling across his pink scalp, steely blue eyes locked in a stare toward something invisible on the floor.  Those grasping hands once held the power to construct a home for his family, the strength to keep his loved ones safe, the gentleness to quietly stroke away the fears of his children and the skill to set the type used to print most of the cereal boxes that brightened breakfast tables across America each morning.

Ed was a prankster who added a little top spin to the more typical ‘dry’ Midwestern sense of humor … like greeting holiday guests at the door with scallions sticking out of his ears and an absolute deadpan look on his face! He had grown up in the same town, on the same land as his father and his father before him. His National Geographic collection and slide shows were legendary, as were the wagon rides he gave his kids and grandkids behind the lawn tractor.

He remembered none of that now.  Now the best he could do was hold on.

I hadn’t seen him in four years. Things had changed dramatically and not for the better.  Four years ago Ed was becoming forgetful, sometimes confused, but he was still at home in his easy chair, cat in lap, flirting with his former high school sweetheart of sixty-two years.  Now the cat was dead and the love of his life could no longer care for him. He had taken to wondering off and the very act of eating was becoming a greater challenge with each passing day. “What’s this for?” he would ask pointing at his spoon.

Now he had joined the company of frail, cotton-haired ladies with big black shoes and shriveled, stocking-doll men casting curious glances at familiar strangers.  As his daughter and I repeatedly spoke his name, Ed slowly turned and I could see that merely forgetful had slipped into the mists of forgotten.  His handsome face was beginning to melt like a waxen figure and the life’s light which so brilliantly burned in his eyes was growing dim. Alzheimer’s can do that you know.

“Dad, hi Dad.  Remember me?” his daughter said.  “It’s Vigi and this is my husband, Al.” she continued, pointing at me.  “Sure I remember you but who’s this other guy again?” he replied.  “My husband, Al … remember him?” she asked.  “He looks familiar, I guess.  But I remember you.  Vigi, right?” He got it! Ed frequently confused my wife with our daughter Heidi who is the spitting image of her mother as a girl … that seemed to be a point in time where his mind was still comfortable. He released his grip on the red chair and managed a slight ‘aw shucks’ smile as Vigi straightened his Detroit Tigers cap and kissed his cheek.

Her patience with him was even greater than her patience with me and that’s saying something! I admired her tenderness and instinctive ability to pull Ed back from the cracks into which he would sometimes disappear. I was watching the love I had fallen in love with wrap its magic around her dad, with the warmth of a familiar old sweater. It was the same ability that had made her such a natural mom. And so our visit went, with me being pronounced a “nice guy” but still, at best, only sort of familiar to the man fighting so hard to find the missing fragments of his existence.

All of a sudden, I felt something wet on my cheek and realized I had this huge wad of chewing gum stuck in my throat. Wait a minute. What was going on? Was I crying for him … or was I crying for me ? Whenever life seemed a little rocky, I always told myself that no matter what might happen to my vast array of worldly goods, “I’ll always have my memories … they can never take those away from me.”

Well, they can.

Look for Bananas Crackers and Nuts Podcast links under
“Recent Podcasts”… also check out my Podcast Page.