On Being Old -- 2

                                                             

I surrounded myself with old friends. Their kidding and reminiscing prevented me from thinking about the west side of the mountain. The family ties were strong and talk of being kids swirled around me.

My high school buddies laid it on and never let me get away with a thing – just like the old days.

My radio group came in like the affair was black tie -- some even in tuxes. Naturally being the hams they are, they presented me with a poem and a letter from a fictitious friend extolling the pleasures of being old.

The next group was the neighbors who now kindly look after the old one.

I enjoyed myself no end. How rich I am to have these friends, I thought. The candy was strewn everywhere. I don’t think I’ll have any problems navigating this new phase of my life.
Ciao.

On Being Old -- 1

Now that I’ve I crossed the bridge I must change my blog. Of course I will still be looking for daily candy. However, I will be including reminiscences of the past, which goes to show there is no expiration date on my candy. Hence the new title of the blog
This first installment comes from the not too distant past. We begin with the event where some of my friends gathered to help this soul across the bridge to the west side of the mountain – my 70th Birthday Party.

My good friend, Norb Weisman, succinctly out lined life’s travels in a poem he wrote and presented to me on this new side of life. I want to share his verse with you.

                                                       Rights of Passa

The time has come, the walrus said, 

The time to turn the page.

We’re done with ships and sealing wax,

 Let’s deal with youth and age.

The young are light, they effervesce,

For them there's no tomorrow.

The time is now, today’s the day,

No thought of what’s to follow.

The years race by on winged feet.

They heap upon each other.

And suddenly, the young are gone.

What happened here? Oh brother!

I didn’t see those years go by.

I was busy having fun.

But suddenly I turn around and look…

My son is twenty-one.

And thirty-one, and thirty-five.

Good Lord, what shall I do?

My mirror tells the horrid truth,

My God, I’m sixty-two.

The end is near, it will arrive.

I know that now and sure as hell,

Just look…

I’m sixty-five.

I guess it’s really not so bad,

The shape I’m in is great.

Why the heck should I complain,

I’m only sixty-eight.

Sixty-eight! I’m sixty-eight!

Did you hear what I said?

The rite of passage fixes in,

My God, I’m almost dead.

Sixty-nine! I’m sixty-nine!

Where is the humor here?

To face the coming echelon

I feel the grip of fear.

At seventy, you’ve had it pal,

And that really isn’t funny!

No matter, how much hair you have,

No matter, how much money.

Your doctor looks at you and smiles,

“Your tests all came out fine.”

That’s very well for him to say,

He’s only thirty-nine.

You look around at all your friends

And that’s what makes you wary.

The ancient ones, they grip your hand,

Good Lord, that’s really scary.

I really don’t know what to do.

Well, why not celebrate?

I can’t turn back the hands of time.

Rose, you pick a date!

I’ll soon surround myself with friends,

Old ones, old and sickly.

And I will romp and play the boy,

My youth will come back quickly.

But still, one item I must have

And things will be just dandy.

My single aphrodisiac,

Just let me have my candy.

               ***

I needn’t say more.  This day I found my first piece of candy

Ciao.

On Getting Old -- 60

23Oct2009

I’ve reached the bridge today. This last year has passed all too quickly. My fear of this mystical – in my mind – age milestone was, I realize, only psychological but yet all too real.

Looking back I discovered many wonderful things. Fortunately, I began this blog, and it has forced me to look at my world in a different light. I may not have seen the things I did had I not been looking for my daily candy.

Now that I stand on the bridge, I find it solid and comforting. No one knows what lies in store for us on the other side. All I know is that I am a stronger and more content person.

I would like to share some of the important things I found.

Be aware of the things around you. You never know what may be bring you joy and happiness. The candy is every where. It may be as simple as a humming bird or only in your imagination such as the “Lady of the Underpass”.

Food excites the senses. So many good meals provided the candy for the day. Lavish spreads are not necessary. Finding the best hamburger in the city or the savouriness of a hot, cinnamon bun is enough to bring about that daily piece of candy.

Music provided another source for candy, Some music from the likes of the Platters, Bill Doggett or the Flamingos brought back the nostalgia of a simpler time. While the wistful strains of smooth jazz just made you feel good.

Most important of all were the people I encountered along the way. They were the adhesive that held all the other experiences together. The kind words of a nurse or the comforting of a chaplain was enough to turn a sad day bright.

Everyone I spoke with had some words of encouragement to help me. They told me that age was only a number. What was in your heart is what counted.

The most important person of all was my wife, Rosemary. She was always there with a comforting word or an incident to make me laugh. She pushed me when I needed a shove; she hugged me when I needed the care; she was part of every one of the important experiences in my journey to the bridge. She truly was my daily candy.

Ciao

On Getting Old -- 59

Yesterday morning on Higgins Rd. while driving to work [yes, I still work part time] I looked at the rearview mirror. Behind me loomed the sky, a brilliant magenta with the early morning sun breaking through. The forest preserve woods exploded in golden browns. A light rain left the air refreshing and clean. From the radio speakers Kurt Elling, a Chicago jazz singer, crooned.


What a wonderful way to start the day, I thought.

Not more than thirty minutes after entering the office, my cell phone rang. Gladys, the nurse at St. Matthew, informed me that my mother had passed away. I told her I would be there as quickly as I could.

The traffic on Rte 25 was incredibly bad. Finally, I turned onto the highway back to the city. Again I faced traffic tie ups. After only a mile of stop and go driving the traffic jam eased up and I drove the rest of the way to the nursing center without a problem.

Along the way my only thoughts were of Mom. I realized her health was declining for the past week or so, but I did not think she would go so fast.

Every little way along the walk in the corridor to Mom’s room a nurse or an aid stopped me for a big hug and a kind word. The hospice people gathered around me in Mom’s room. She lay in bed eyes closed as though she were sleeping without any labored breathing. With a kiss to her cheek, I felt the coolness of her face. Although I anticipated this moment, the occurrence left me empty and sad. The tears welled in my eyes, and I felt them stream down my cheeks.

Finally people left the room so I had some time with Mom alone, probably the last time alone with her. Over the months since she had been at St. Matthew, we were often alone and spoke of the old times -- when she grew up on the near North side of Chicago, her time on the farm in Covert, Michigan, her remembrances of things like the Columbian Exposition and Riverview. No longer will I hear her stories albeit very sketchy due to a failing memory.

I worried about Mom because she was afraid to be alone and afraid to travel to new places. How would she face this ultimate and final trip?

After I returned home I told Rosemary of everything that had happened. I told her how sad I was to start the day with such a happy event and then to have it destroyed with the loss of Mom.

She told me that my mother was telling me she had passed over and everything was fine and beautiful.

I realized my experience occurred about 7:45 AM. Gladys told me she discovered Mom during her rounds at 7:55 AM. Rosemary was absolutely correct. Mom told me she made her cross over and everything was beautiful.

Today the candy was not only bittersweet; it was coated with the pungency of tears. Never the less the candy tasted sweet as ever.

Thanks, Mom.

Ciao

    

On Getting Old -- 58

The count down continues – only three more days to go. I feel the gravel grating at my shoes as I approach the bridge.

One experience, a week ago, helped me to see that the west side of the mountain can have its rewards. Rosemary and I were privileged to share our friends, Delores and Ernie, special day. The happy couple celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary.

Approximately 75 people congregated at the Elks Club in Des Plaines to partake in the joyous festivities. Delores beamed while she worked the group, coming to each table to chat with all. Ernie looked the devoted husband as he danced his wife along the floor. One could feel the love exuded by the pair. I’m sure they were as happy today as they were sixty years ago.

So much candy today – all delivered by the elated couple who stood by each other’s side these many years.

Thank you, Delores and Ernie.

Ciao

On Getting Old -- 57

The first of October found us with our friend, Sally, on our way to the initial play of the season at the Goodman Theater. Sally, unable to drive downtown these days, has been going to the theater with us for the past couple of years. She appreciates us taking her and loves the theater as much as we do.

This day we are going to see “Animal Crackers”. The attendant parks our car and we stop at the Corner Bakery for a light repast. We are looking forward to the play which was originally done in 1928.

“Animal Crackers” was a loosely written play to highlight the antics of the Marx Brothers. The curtain opens to a lavish, art deco set that is the home of Mrs. Rittenhouse.

A party is planned for Captain Jeffrey Spaulding, the Groucho character, played by Joey Slotnick. Before too long enter Emanuel Ravelli and the Professor, the Chico and Harpo characters, played by Jonathon Brody and Molly Brennan.

We are transported to another time through the magic of theater. The gags are a little naïve and corny but perfect for the time. Not great theater but a true glimpse of life in 1928.

A wonderful and entertaining evening – a truly enjoyable piece of candy.

Ciao

On Getting Old -- 56

Our neighbors up the block organized a block party for this day. We moved into our home in 1982 and have never had a block party. So we were looking forward to the event.

At 10:30 AM the street was barricaded with traffic horses at both ends of our block. The kids had the entire street to themselves unimpeded by cars.

As dusk descended, the neighbors congregated in front of the hosts’ house. Music blared from loudspeakers. Tables were aligned and stacked with food – crackers with salmon, hummus, “pigs-in-a-blanket”, polish sausage, potato chips, fudge, cupcakes, on and on. Grills emitted smoke scented of hot dogs and hamburgers.

People gathered in groups and talked, moved to new groups and talked more. A couple moved onto the block the same year we did, and for twenty-seven years we never saw them. New acquaintances were made and old ones reinforced.

The children ran and played and ate during the entire evening – more children than our first year at this residence.

As we toted our table and chairs back home, I was amazed that I had never before noticed all the candy around us.

Ciao