The Gift of an Unhurried Season

"They will still bear fruit in old age, they will stay fresh and green." — Psalm 92:14 (NIV)

When I was younger, I never imagined this season of life.

Back then, my days were full. There were children to raise, jobs to work, meals to cook, appointments to keep, and endless responsibilities demanding my attention. I often longed for a slower pace, certain that one day I would appreciate having fewer obligations.

Then that day arrived.

Now, retired and nearing seventy, I sometimes look around and wonder, Is this all there is? The housework gets done. A book is read. Perhaps a trip is planned now and then. Family and dear friends live miles away. The calendar that once overflowed with commitments now contains wide stretches of quiet.

To be honest, this season can feel strange.

What am I supposed to do now?

But perhaps I'm asking the wrong question.

Maybe this season isn't about doing more. Maybe it's about being more aware of God's presence in the ordinary moments. Perhaps this quieter chapter is not an indication that my usefulness has ended, but an invitation to rest in ways I never allowed myself to before.

God never intended our value to be measured by busyness. The psalmist reminds us that we can still bear fruit in old age. Fruit doesn't always look like activity. Sometimes it looks like wisdom shared over coffee, prayers whispered for those we love, encouragement offered through a handwritten note, hospitality extended to a lonely neighbor, or simply cultivating gratitude in the everyday rhythms of life.

I wonder if this season is, in part, God's gracious reward after years of faithful labor. Not retirement from purpose, but retirement from striving. A chance to breathe deeply. To notice the lightning bugs at dusk. To linger over morning devotions. To watch the changing seasons and recognize that God is present in every one of them.

The truth is, I may not run at the pace I once did, but I can still walk closely with the Lord.

And perhaps that has been His invitation all along.

If you find yourself in a quieter season, don't mistake stillness for insignificance. God wastes nothing—not even the slower chapters. There is beauty to be found here, purpose yet to be discovered, and fruit still to bear.

The God who guided us through the busy years will also teach us how to live faithfully in the unhurried ones.

Heavenly Father, thank You for being present in every season of life. When I struggle to understand this quieter chapter, remind me that my worth has never depended on how busy I am. Teach me to embrace the gifts You have placed before me today—the gift of rest, the gift of reflection, and the gift of time spent in Your presence. Show me the ways I can continue to bear fruit and encourage others, even if it looks different than it once did. Help me to trust that You still have purpose for my days and joy waiting to be discovered in the ordinary moments. May I walk into this season with gratitude, hope, and confidence that You are not finished writing my story. In Jesus' name, Amen.

The New Year and My Uncompleted Bucket List

The new year always has a way of sneaking up on me, like a cat on a screen porch—quiet, determined, and suddenly right at your feet. As I step into this next year at 68, firmly planted in the sunset season of life, I’m more aware than ever that time is no longer something I assume I have in abundance. The years don’t just pass anymore; they sprint. And yet, even with the calendar pages flipping faster, my heart is still full of hopes, dreams, and a bucket list that’s been tagging along with me since my teenage years.

I started that bucket list back when my knees were original equipment and didn’t come with screws, hinges, or weather-related complaints. Over the years, I’ve been blessed to cross off quite a few things—some planned, some unexpected, and some that only God could’ve arranged. Still, there are a handful of dreams that refuse to loosen their grip on me. Ireland and Scotland call my name every time I hear a fiddle tune. Alaska still feels like unfinished business, even though I've been there once. I want to return again, only this time, I don't want to see the inside of their cardiac care unit! And Israel, well, that place has a way of settling into your soul and demanding a return visit, too. As for completing the Appalachian Trail, I’ll admit that dream and my mechanical knee have been in ongoing negotiations. I guess I'll remain a section hiker for life. 

These days, my knee predicts rain better than the evening news, and I don’t bounce back from long walks the way I once did. I’ve learned that ibuprofen is a food group and that stretching is no longer optional; it’s survival. Still, I’m Southern enough to believe that where there’s a will, there’s a way… even if that way involves frequent rest stops, good shoes, and someone else carrying the heavy stuff. I may not hike mountains the same way I used to, but I can still chase wonder, beauty, and meaning wherever God places them.

What I’m learning, as this new year approaches, is that dreams don’t have an expiration date. They may need adjusting, slowing down, or reimagining, but they’re still worth holding onto. Maybe I won’t check every box on that old bucket list, but I can still live fully, laugh loudly, love deeply, travel wisely, and savor the goodness in each borrowed day. If the Lord gives me the strength, I’ll keep moving forward, one careful step, one hopeful prayer, and one slightly creaky knee at a time. After all, as we say down South, I may be getting older, but I’m not done yet.

Where's my joy?

This morning, I stood at my bathroom mirror inspecting my reflection. A woman I barely recognized looked back with empty eyes. “Who are you?” I asked. There was no response. That's when a few random thoughts popped into my head - "Where's your joy? When was the last time you were truly happy? When did you last laugh?"Hmmm...I had no answers. Something was wrong. Was I depressed? Possibly. I thought I was just fine. I sure looked just “fine.” Everyone said so. But was I really? The more I thought about it, the less sure I was. 

I've always tried to be happy. I've done my best to keep a positive outlook on life, but when feelings creep in, they have a way of stealing joy. When things we can't control happen, it's easy to get discouraged, to feel a little down, and to let the joy slip into sadness.  

People always say you have to move past the things you can't control. They tell you to just let it go and move on, but that's not an easy thing to do, especially when those you love are involved and are part of the problem.  

Growing old is difficult. It's easy to feel insignificant and unnecessary when the kids are grown and don't have time for you. Of course, as parents, we realize they won't be around forever. They grow up and have lives of their own, but what about us? What about trying to keep your parents in the loop? What about making them feel loved and wanted, like they're important and they matter? 

I was always taught to love, honor, and respect my elders. I taught my children the same virtues and for a while, they did pretty well with them, but over the years, they've started to slip. Maybe it's the culture. I don't want to make excuses for them. It hurts my heart that they don't see the longing in our eyes when they make the occasional visit. We want more time with them. We need more time with them. We crave it, but we don't want to come flat out and tell them...but, boy how we wish they'd get it. 

One day they'll be old and they'll find themselves in the same boat. They'll wait for the day a call comes and the person on the other end of the line says, "Hi, Mom! I was thinking about coming by for a visit today. Are you up for it? " And before the conversation ends, a huge smile spreads across their face with anticipation. Their heart wells with joy at the thought of seeing flesh of their flesh, being enveloped in love, and being allowed the gift of time together.  Then, maybe, they'll understand the loneliness, the longing, the loss of joy that comes when parents age and children do, too. 

Ouchie ouch!

When I was a child, I learned a lot of silly songs. Sometimes those pop into my mind at random times of the day. Today, as I was feeling kind of crappy, this one came to the forefront of my mind, "The Old Gray Mare Just Ain't What She Used to be."I don't even think I knew what a mare was when I was a young child, but the tune was catchy and we loved to repeat it during camp outs as we sat around the campfire when I was in Girl Scouts.

I finally figured out that a mare was an older horse, one that wasn't able to pull it's weight anymore, one that'd soon be put out to pasture or shipped off the glue factory. And that's just about what I feel like today. 

Almost everything in my body hurts. It's been a tough year for me. I've been through many medical procedures and I can tell my body is flashing red lights of warning. My time is growing short. Aches and pains are part of aging, but they sure do suck! I'd give anything to wake up from a good night's sleep and feel refreshed again. Instead, I toss and turn all night praying for sleep to come. After a few winks, when I crawl out of bed, I'm conscious of every limb and organ. But what can you do? You have to push through, just like an old mare plodding through a muddy field. And that's what I do. 

My youngest daughter keeps telling me I need a good massage. She says it will help my body feel better. I've never had a massage in my life. I don't like people touching me. She says it's always done very professionally, but I just can't. 

Maybe on our next cruise, instead of soaking in the hot tub and wishing I could stay until I turn into a big prune, I'll be brave enough to enter the spa and ask for a massage. Until then, I'll keep gulping Tylenol, using my heating pad, and try to think about things other than aches and pains. 

This afternoon, as we were driving through the countryside, I was looking at some beautiful farm land. I didn't see a single old, gray mare. I did see lots of young, healthy horses grazing on lush, green grass. As their tails swished back and forth, I imagined they were happy. Without a care in the world, they were soaking up the sunshine, feasting on sweet grass, and had no worries whatsoever. 

I'd like to be a young filly again but it's too late. Those years are long gone. Thank God for Tylenol! At least it helps a little and this old gray mare will just have to take more rest breaks during the day when she needs them. I guess that's okay...

 

 

Listening to your aging body talk is hard

 Warning: Negativity ahead!

 I'm till having health issues related to the hiatal hernia repair surgery. Went in for an endoscopy yesterday and they found several growths and biopsied them. I won't hear back for about 10 days they said. I'm concerned. There's always a niggling concern of a recurrence of cancer in the back of my mind. I know God's in control and I'm doing my best to trust Him completely but sometimes, that little prickly voice of Satan whispers negativity to me. I try to tune it out by focusing more on the Word. When I get all this junk straightened out, I'll have the knee surgery. I'm barely able to walk now and have started having hip pain a good deal. If it weren't for a special off loading knee brace, I wouldn't be able to walk at all. It sucks getting old. 

God's been teaching me to look for the positive in the negative lately. I don't know if I'm a good student or not. It seems He has to keep emphasizing this message to me. Hopefully, I learn it soon. With that in mind, I'll mention three positive things from today: 

1. My husband and I got up early to walk in a local park. Walking early is easier. The longer I'm on my leg, the more it hurts. 

2. We saw lots of beautiful blossoms popping out on shrubs and trees as we drove through our old neighborhood. It's wonderful to see them each year. I think God calls them forth into bloom every year right before Easter (Resurrection Day) so we can be reminded to thank and praise Him. 

3. After completely housework, we sat outside on the back porch and enjoyed some time reading. It's nice to share that time together each day. 

 

Racing against time

Today I realized I'm old. Of course, I've known it for some time, I just hated to admit it. But when notification of my 50th high school reunion popped into my email, I kind of freaked. 50 years? How could it be that long ago that I was roaming the halls of my beloved school? How could that much time have passed since I've seen so many of my oldest and dearest friends? 

I used to laugh when I heard my mother in law talking about her 50th high school reunion. At that time, I thought, "Wow! She's really old!" Instead, I should have been thinking, "How wonderful to have lived long enough to attend such a milestone event." I was very naive back then. 

Our school has changed so much over the past 50 years. I've driven by several times since 1975 and have made a mental note of each visible change. In some ways, it looks the same, but in others it doesn't. The demographics of that area have drastically changed since I was a student there. Back then, not many of my friends or I had our own cars, now the lot is filled with all sorts of vehicles, and not cheap, beat up ones like the ones my friends were able to afford (if they bought them on their own). Some of my friends had well to do parents who graciously gifted them cars. I was so jealous, especially of the ones with a 1965 Mustang. I wanted that car so badly! Those were the days. 

I'm feeling my age, for sure. Today I was up and down off a ladder as I repaired some settling cracks in our new home. We've been here almost a year and the tiny cracks have started to appear. They're not difficult to repair. I've taken care of them in the past 4 homes I've lived in so I know exactly what to do, but today...getting up and down off the ladder was much harder that it was in the past. And when I got through with the job, I had to sit down and rest a while. I was "plumb tuckered out." 

It seems like I'm racing against time now. Every day seems to go by so quickly! I get up early each day and accomplish as many things as I can, but the minutes and hours fly. By the time I get ready for bed, I wonder when time sped up. It never used to go by so quickly. 

I'm doing everything I can to stay fit. In fact, just yesterday, I bought an new inversion table. Upon our last move, I made the silly mistake of giving mine away thinking I wouldn't want it any longer, but I was wrong. I've missed it terribly. Hanging upside down stretches out my aching spine and seems to help with pain. Only now I have to tilt back slower than I used to because if I don't, I'll get super dizzy and start to feel light headed. I guess that's a blood pressure shift. 

So many things have changed in our world over the last 50 years but I notice my own changes the most. I wonder, if I make it to the reunion, how many friends I'll recognize and how many of them will recognize me? We're all a little shorter, a lot grayer, and a few pounds heavier than we used to be. And I imagine they're feeling the same way I am about the future. 

I wish we could turn back the clock and start over knowing all the things we do now. What different experience high school would be with that knowledge! Oh well, we lived, we learned, and those of us who're still around have done our best to stay in touch thanks to Facebook. 

I don't have details on the date for the reunion yet or the location. I sure hope it fits into my schedule. I'd love to see certain people I hung out with back then and catch up, especially one or two of my old boyfriends - but I'm sure they're happily married now, as am I. 

Getting old is challenging but it's better than not growing old at all. Every day I wake up on this side of the ground, I'm thankful. I hope you are, too.

It's almost Christmas

Baking cookies

It's almost Christmas, can you believe it? I can't! I don't know how this year has passed so quickly. It seems the older I get the faster the days, months, and years go by. Do you feel it, too? Why is that? Maybe it's because the older we get the more we realize there are fewer days ahead of us than behind us. 

My decorations are up, the presents are wrapped, and I have nothing left to do other than prepare the meal for our family on Christmas day. Thankfully, this year, the kids will help by bringing side dishes. It's tough when it all falls on me and I'm finally realizing it's smart to delegate and accept help when you need it. I've always struggled with that. 

Today I was thinking about all the people who aren't with us this year and who won't be with us on Christmas. It's so sad my parents, my brother, and my in laws are no longer with us. Christmas won't be the same without them. And I won't get to have all my children and grandchildren with me either, but I'm trying not to dwell on the negative. I'm thankful I'll get to have 2 of my 4 children here and 1 of my 9 grandchildren with me. Without any of them, it would be a very somber day. 

 And then I think of dear friends who've lost loved ones this year. In particular I'm thinking about 2 who've lost their spouses recently. I can't imagine what they'll go through this year without the love of their lives. I pray God will give them the strength to get through the day and that they'll be surrounded by other family members or friends who will love on them throughout the day. 

My parents, no longer with us

There's so much build up to Christmas each year. All the commercialism contributes greatly to it. People spend so much time, energy, and money to do the best they can to have a nice holiday often to the point of it becoming stressful. It's like a great crescendo of expectation and then, as the day winds down and they get ready to face the day after Christmas, a feeling of overwhelming despair hits them. Why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we always need something to look forward to? 

I know several people who live from event to event. I don't know how they do it. What I'm finding, as I slide closer to 70, is that just making it from one day to the next is enough to celebrate. 

My sweet friend, Jack

And social media really contributes to a lot of holiday depression, don't you agree? Seeing everyone's "perfect" gatherings, happy families, and posts about how wonderful their lives are present a standard not many can live up to. Sometimes I get so tired of it. I've taken month long Facebook fasts to remove my self from the fakeness many times but as the year draws to a close, I may delete my account entirely. I don't really want to do it because that is one way I can keep up with distant family members and old highschool friends, but gee whiz...is it worth it? 

I'm thankful I have a place to vent now and then. At least I can do that and spewing venom helps me stay sane. 

I'm sure we'll have a wonderful day this Christmas, we normally do and the kids always bring such a marvelous energy with them when they come. I love that. 

Tomorrow evening, our church will host a candlelight Christmas Eve service, I'm sure that will help push these early feelings of despair away, gathering for corporate worship always helps put the silver lining back in my cloudy sky.

So come on and ring those bells, light the Christmas tree, Jesus is the King...born for you and me. And if you're struggling a little bit, like I am this year, give yourself grace. Christmas isn't just a day, it's a heart felt sentiment that should carry us throughout the year, especially if you're a believer in Jesus Christ! 

Have a Happy Christmas!

Will the health challenges ever end?

I wish I'd understood how age affects one's health. Even though I saw it first hand, I didn't grasp the concept as my in laws and my parents began to decline. I knew their stamina would wane, that's just part of life, but to fully understand the challenges of aging, I think one must have first hand experience. 

By today's standards, I'm not really old. Yes, I'm closer to 70 than 60, but to me, that's still pretty young. I don't necessarily feel my age. Perhaps that's because I push myself day in and day out. Since my cancer diagnosis back in 2014, I've pushed even harder than ever before. I've often asked myself why, but when I think about it, I believe the feeling I need to use up every minute of every day is rooted in the fear of wasting time that I am not guaranteed to have. Funny how a disease can impress that on you. 

This year has been extremely challenging. I've been hospitalized more times than I can count. Some of those hospitalizations were planned surgeries and others, complications of surgeries or unexpected issues that snuck up on me when I least expected them. 

I don't like hospitals but I will say I feel comfortable in them. I know, even in hospitals where the care isn't the greatest, I will receive some care. That gives me a weird form of security, but I have to say, the last few visits to the ER were definitely not good experiences. In fact, they were pretty bad and I'm not just talking about personnel, I'm talking about uncleanness and ineptitude. I never thought hospitals in our city would be that way. How naive of me! 

Today I had a CT scan on my knee. I wasn't expecting to do it so soon. On my last visit to the bone and joint center, I'd had a good many x-rays done. My poor left knee had been giving me problems for the past 2 years. I'd already had a lateral menisectomy and a condroplasty on it. I'd also had 4 cortisone shots. Those bought me some time, but the doc said we were now at a point of making the choice to better my quality of life or keep winging it with medical patches. He said the x-rays revealed my situation was now bone on bone. There was nothing left to do other than a complete knee replacement...OH JOY! 

I wondered why they wanted a CT scan after I'd received this news, but the medical assistant cleared it up for me. She said they needed the scan in order to make my prosthetic joint. When she said that, I became very quiet. 

My poor body has been through a lot. In fact, sometimes I wonder how I'm still alive with all the pieces and parts I have missing. You could say I'm a miracle, but I think God isn't done with me yet and that's why He keeps letting me go through one health trial after another. 

I keep hoping my kids will see and understand the things I didn't as my parents were aging. If they lived closer, I imagine they would. I don't ever want to have to need their help, but eventually it will come down to it. 

Aging joints, lack of strength, needing to rest more often, random aches and pains - I've got all of those, I'll admit. It sucks, to be honest. I'd love to have the strength from my youth again, but that won't ever happen. 

If this surgery can make me more mobile, I'll be thankful. I don't look forward to all it entails, but sometimes you do what you have to do to keep going. 

I've got my walker fitted with little gliding tennis balls and I'm psyching myself up for physical therapy. Just like the train in the Little Engine that Could, a story I used to read my children when they were small, I'm telling myself, "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can..." I sure hope I'm right. I don't ever want to be confined to a wheelchair again like I was after my awful car wreck in 1990. That was a time of excruciating pain and trauma. My right tibia and fibula were completely

crushed and it took almost 3 years for me to be able to walk without pain again. Thank goodness it's the left leg this time. Boy, I'm glad we only have 2 legs!

Unrest

Do you feel it? I do. There's a stirring in my soul, a feeling of unrest that won't go away no matter what I do to try and quash it. It's been going on for several weeks now and I don't think it's related to all the political hullabaloo. I'm not one to watch all that junk, my husband is. 

No, it's something deeper. It's almost a spiritual stirring. I've been praying and asking God to reveal what the issue might be, but He hasn't. 

Maybe it's just adjusting to this new time in our lives or perhaps it's the uncertainty of the future, how I wish I knew. Getting older could be part of it or not being able to spend as much time with the kids or grand kids, or it could be a combination of all of it. 

I try to stay busy so I don't think about it. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. Most days I paint just for something to do and when I run out of canvases, I read. I have so many books, I could start my own library. The only thing that seems to help is being out in nature. 

When I'm out in the woods, I feel unhindered and free. I love feeling the soft breeze surrounding me as I walk beneath tall trees. I try to be observant and see the things most people miss, like a freshly fallen feather or an insect wing. 

My youngest granddaughter loves nature just about as much as I do, and I'm so thankful for that. She could tell you just about anything about animal habitats or insect bodies. She's smart as a whip and studies to absorb every fact she can. And that's why I find myself doing crazy, ol' Grandma things like saving bird's nests or picking up dead Cicadas for her to see when she comes to visit. 

We always have fun when she comes. She has no idea how much joy she brings to my life, but she's growing up and will soon not want to do crafty things with her Gigi. She'll prefer watching a TV show or something else. It's hard to watch them grow up and away. 

Maybe that's the thing that's stirring - the realization that no matter how hard I try, I can't keep things the way they are. Everything and everyone is in a constant state of change, the only constant is God. The Bible says He never changes, He's the same yesterday, today, and forever. I'm thankful for that. 

My hubby keeps telling me to take one day at a time, but that's hard for a type A person to do. I'm trying. Maybe tomorrow will be a little easier. 

Oh yeah, speaking of unrest, the announcement came today that Biden will be stepping down soon. I wonder if anyone else is beginning to wonder what the future holds and how all this will work out? 

None of us can truly know what the future holds, but believers know Who holds the future! If you're feeling discombobulated or in a season of your own unrest, take a deep breath. This too shall pass. (Or so I'm told.)

These old knees ain't what they used to be!

 When I was a kid, I remember singing a silly song entitled, "The Old Gray Mare, She Ain't What She Used to Be." It was a song that always made me giggle. Well, today, I feel like that old gray mare. I am definitely not what I used to be. These 65 year old knees are wearing out. 

Wrapped up and resting

For the past 2 years, I've dealt with pain and swelling in my left knee. I've had 4 steroid shots and have been through a series of braces. While those things bought me some time, they didn't fix the problem and it continued to get worse. Finally, last month, I was back in the orthopedic doc's office begging for help. I could barely walk and knew if I didn't do something soon, I was going to need a complete knee replacement. I didn't want that!

Since I loved hiking and being outdoors, it was urgent I do something. I wanted to stay mobile as long as possible. Talking with the doc, we came up with a plan. After XRAYS and MRIs, the verdict was a lateral meniscus tear and severe arthritis. I knew the arthritis was part of aging, but when did I do damage to that knee? I couldn't pinpoint it. I'd had several falls over the last few years, including a really hard one on my right knee while in Israel, but this was my left. Did I perhaps damage it then too and not realize it? Who knew. 

So the doc planned surgery for the following week. He would perform an arthrosocopic lateral Meniscectomy, Chondroplasty, and debridement of the patellofemoral compartment and medial compartments. Now that's a mouthful! In essence, he was going to make 2 holes in my knee, stick a camera in one hole and cutting instruments in the other. Next he would remove the torn ligament, scrape out damaged tissue and try to remove as much arthritis as possible. Sounded like a quick and easy procedure...

Icing

Well, the day of surgery, I was pretty calm thanks to all the prayers going up from my friends and family members. The anesthesiologist was able to find a vein in my hand on the first try, which was amazing because that never happens for me. After being rolled into the surgical suite, I was moved onto a gurney and within a few seconds, it was lights out for me. 

I woke up in recovery to some pretty rough pain but the nurse was instantly there with ginger ale and pain meds. After an hour, I was able to go home with instructions to keep my leg elevated and iced. I was also given an arsenal of pain meds. 

Things went pretty smoothly until the anesthesia wore off and the pain set in. I wasn't expecting it to be so bad, especially since I'd been through a horrendous automobile accident in 1991 where both bones below the knee in my right leg were crushed. But I was younger then. 

I had a fitful night but managed to make it through. I wasn't looking forward to the

day as physical therapy had already been scheduled and I'd be making my way there in a couple of hours. Thankfully, one of my girls had volunteered to come chauffeur me to the appointment. 

My therapist was a young, oriental woman but boy, she was tough as nails. She worked me hard and I was exhausted by the time our hour session was over. As I was leaving, she said she'd see me twice next week and we'd continue for about 8-10 weeks! What???!!! I wasn't expecting that! Getting old sucks!

My therapist

So, I'm doing my best to look at the positives, which is a little hard right now. One day soon, I'll be able to walk without pain. At least I'm not confined to a wheelchair like I was back in 1991 for a year and a half and then I was on crutches for another year. Now I'm shuffle along on my trusty walker. 

I'm thankful for gel ice packs, pain meds, a sweet husband who picks up the slack, and kids who do what they can when they can. I am tired and I'm doing my best. 

God continues to prompt me to rest and I find it interesting that I'm currently reading a book on that very subject. I don't know why I have such a hard time resting, but I do. I feel so worthless and unproductive when I'm not doing something. 

Surgical sites and doctor's initials

The Bible says God rested on the 7th day. He didn't rest because He was tired, He'd just completed His work. If He deems rest important, I guess I'd better learn that lesson sooner rather than later, otherwise, I may have to keep going through physical maladies until I understand. I definitely don't want any more object lessons, not for a very, very long time. 

The book I'm reading

I was able to remove the bandages long enough to take a shower yesterday. I was scared to death I'd fall in the shower, so I had my walker half in and half out so I could hang on. I'd had to put waterproof bandages over the surgical sites before showering to protect from water, but that wasn't a big deal. After drying off, I had to remove those bandages, put new ones on and rewrap everything. By the time I was through, I was exhausted and ready to ice my knee again. 

Today, I'm going to take it easy until time for therapy. I hope I can do it. There's so much I want to be doing, but my knee is hurting so they'll have to wait. 

If you have good knees, love them! Take good care of them! Knees are so important. I plan to pamper mine after healing from this surgery. Otherwise, knee replacements are in my future and I am not wanting to go through that, especially since this surgery has been so painful.

An introspective mood

For some reason today, I've been in an introspective mood. Maybe it's because of the peaceful instrumental music playing on my stereo, or perhaps the delicious steaming cup of raspberry hibiscus tea. It could be the fact that my wedding anniversary is just around the corner. Whatever the cause, as I was in the kitchen this morning unloading dishes, a thought came to mind - "I don't want to miss it." Miss what, I asked myself. And as I thought, I realized I don't want to go through the rest of my life wondering if maybe I missed something. I don't want to overlook the good things God puts in my path. I don't want to take anything for granted. I want to experience joy in the little things. 

I've lived a good life, these past 64 1/2 years. Sure, there have been some difficult seasons and I've had to fight hard to overcome them, but I'm still here. That tells me God still has a plan for my life and my number isn't up until He says so. 

Health issues always seem to knock me down a few pegs and this year, I've been knocked down a lot. It seems Satan knows exactly when and where to launch his missiles of attack. They always catch me off guard, but I don't take it lying down. I always remind myself I'm "more than a conquer through Him that loves me." 

In my China cabinet, I have several tiny treasures to remind me of special moments - dried flowers, my sweet husband picked from a roadside field, a Brazil nut that reminds me of my father, and several bird feathers that remind me of my mother. Those little things mean more to me than a pile of gold. And that's why I don't want to miss a single thing in these next years of life. 

Toward the end of the year, I'll hit a milestone birthday. I'm already trying to decipher Social Security information and it's making me crazy. 

Life seems to be flying by and I'm on the downhill slide. So, in the days ahead, I'm going to make a special point of staying present. I'm not going to let electronics steal my focus. 

I'll stand in awe at the sunrise. I'll take as long as necessary to capture the beauty of a butterfly. I'll listen well and love much. 

I don't want to miss a single solitary thing. I hope you won't either. 

Don't take swallowing for granted

 It's amazing the bodily functions we take for granted until we don't have them. I never thought anything about being able to swallow until I couldn't. It's scary when food gets stuck going down your throat. I don't ever want to go through that again. 

I wasn't expecting to have my esophagus stretched when I went in for the endoscopy, but that's exactly what they did. After I woke up from the anesthesia, it felt like someone had taken a broomstick wrapped with sandpaper and scrubbed my innards - not a good feeling. 

Not being able to talk wasn't fun either. Thankfully, that only lasted a day. Now I can talk and hopefully, I'll be able to eat a full meal. I haven't tried anything solid since the procedure, but my sweet hubby brought home Chinese food tonight and I sure do want some. We will see. 

The older I get, the more I realize my body is wearing out. Things no longer work the way they used to and I don't like it. But what can we do? It's just part of aging. Sure, we can start to replace some things like knees, but other parts can't be replaced. 

I wish I'd taken better care of my body when I was younger. Hopefully, I can encourage my kids and grandkids to start now so they won't have so many health issues when they hit their mid-sixties. 

These shells are temporary. I can't wait for my heavenly body, at least it will be a deluxe edition :)

The Old Gray Mare, She Ain't What She Used to Be...

Well, well, well - that's a deep subject for a shallow mind, isn't it? Lol. I just had to say that. My grandmother used to say that and I always thought it odd until I grew older and figured it out. Starting this post with a little humor seemed appropriate since I'm going to talk about pain in just a minute. 

When I got out of bed this morning, the pain was unbearable. As I stood and tried to make it into the bathroom, it felt as if there was no cushion between my bones and they were grating upon each other. Hobbling along, I finally made it but realized my gallant efforts at painting had come back to haunt me. Getting up and down from the step ladder wreaked havoc on my left knee. I'd already been having issues with that knee for months. It had been swelling and had caused difficulty walking. I did see an orthopedic doc and he'd given me a couple of shots of cortisone, and an off-loading knee brace (a brace that would shift the weight onto my good leg).  I thought that would solve everything but apparently not. The doctor said if the cortisone didn't do the trick, the next step would be a knee replacement surgery. I wasn't happy to hear that. I didn't want to have any more surgeries. 

Today, I pulled out the walker and knee brace. I'm popping Tylenol every 4 hours and hoping to stay off my feet as much as possible. Getting old sucks! When body parts start wearing out, you realize you aren't what you used to be. 

I remember laughing in grammar school when we'd sing the song, "The Old Gray Mare." I always thought it funny when we'd reach the line, "She ain't what she used to be." As I remember that song now, it's not quite as funny because I'm finding that song applies to me. 

Why do our body parts begin to fail as we grow older? Is it because they just wear out from use or is it because some of us don't have wonderful genes? I've seen videos of people in their 90s who're as fit as fiddles and here I am, at the ripe old age of 64, and I'm falling apart. 

There are so many things I want to do and I'm finding I'm having to pace myself as I age. I don't like it, not one little bit. 

Hubby told me this morning to try and stay off my leg, to just rest. That would seem like a dream to many but not me. I like to stay busy. It's hard for me to rest, but today, I'm going to try. I know my knee will thank me for it. Maybe I can finish reading one of my books while I sit. 

Thankfully, we don't get put out to pasture as we age, especially when we're well loved. This old gray mare ain't what she used to be but she's learning to temper her projects with her energy. 

Learning to accept my physical limitations

It's hard to accept the fact that my body doesn't always do what I want it to do. You'd think, 3 1/2 years post cancer, I'd have learned what my body can and can't do but I haven't. I'm still of the mindset that I'm able to do all the things I used to do. But today, I was reminded of several things. One, I'm not as young as I used to be. Two, my energy level has greatly decreased, and three my body doesn't work like it used to work.

This weekend, we'd purchased some steel shelving units for our garage. I'd made a comment several months ago about how frustrating it was to see all the messiness of our stuff in the space our cars should be. Finally, after nagging and complaining for weeks, I managed to get my husband to agree to go to our local big box hardware store and look for ways to make our space a little neater.

Up and down the rows we went looking at various organizational options. There were cabinets, storage units, and many different types of shelving. We'd discussed our needs and had already determined we wanted this to be a once and done purchase so we opted for steel shelving. We found the perfect size and made our purchases.

We loaded three heavy shelving units into our van and went home. Hubby took the boxes inside and sat them neatly on the garage floor. I was puzzled. For some reason, I assumed he'd start putting them together as soon as we got home, but he didn't. When I asked when he planned to assemble them, he told me he'd do it the following weekend. He'd been working a good deal of overtime and he was tired, so I didn't push.

This morning, I had the brilliant idea to put the shelves together and surprise him when he came in from work. I had slept well and was feeling energetic. After breakfast, I got dressed and made my way into the garage. As I looked at the boxes, I didn't think it would take long to assemble the units. Boy was I wrong!

The boxes weighed just under fifty pounds each. I struggled to drag one box off the stack and fought to open it. After quite a struggle, I managed to slide the box so that one end was elevated and shook the contents out.

It took quite a bit of time to maneuver the steel pieces into place. One by one, I whacked the sidebars into place with a hammer and a piece of two by four. This was not a one person job but I was determined to have the shelves completed by the time he came home and I was going to figure out how to brace the shelves as I put first one end together and then the other.

The first unit took about an hour to complete since I was unfamiliar with the setup and the directions weren't very clear. As I put on the top shelf, I realized my arms had begun swelling. I'd forgotten to put on my compression sleeves before starting. Oh well, too late now. I kept working hoping the swelling wouldn't get worse.

As I began work on the second unit, I felt my energy level begin to dip. I'd been so full of energy only an hour ago. Why was I so tired now?

I made myself push through the fatigue and finally managed to get the second unit together. Now it was time to place all the items on the shelves and do some cleanup. I decided I'd save the third unit for another day. I just didn't have the strength to start on it today.

When I went into the house, after cleaning up the garage, I could barely walk. My back was killing me and my arms were really swollen. I knew I needed to slow down and take a rest. A hot bath with some Epsom salts should do the trick along with some arthritis strength Ibuprofen.

Downing the pills with a large glass of water, I realized I was more tired than I'd first thought. I wondered if I could make it into the tub and out of it again.

As I sat in the hot water soaking the pains from my exertion away, I had to face the facts. I'm not as young as I used to be but along with that reality came the fact that my body isn't the same as it once was a few years ago. My energy level has been greatly diminished since my bout with cancer. My body doesn't always want to do what I want it to do. It's hard to accept but I'm finding it necessary to listen to my body and heed the warning cues it gives me.

In the middle of a project, sometimes I find myself getting extremely tired. It's more of an exhausted feeling that I can't quite describe. When I start to feel that overwhelming tiredness coming on, I know it won't be long before I'll have to stop what I'm doing and rest. This is very frustrating to me. I've always been a doer. I like to stay busy. But now I attribute my body's slowing down to both age and post-cancer fatigue.

Learning to accept my current physical limitations has been difficult. I don't always stop when my body tells me to. When I don't, I suffer the consequences and sometimes, those consequences last for days.

It's challenging to understand and accept the trauma my body's experienced since I was diagnosed with breast cancer. It's even more difficult to realize this will be a lifelong challenge.

Change is never easy and accepting post-cancer fatigue makes me feel very sad and frustrated. I want to be able to do the things I was once able to do. When I physically don't have the strength to do the things I want to do, I have to admit my life will never be the same. My body isn't the same. It's been cut open and stitched back together again. Layers and layers of muscle and tissue have been severed. Body parts have been removed. On top of that, my poor torso has been treated with radiation and poisonous chemicals.

When I think about the traumatic experiences my body has suffered as a result of breast cancer, it's a little easier to understand why my body has had to slow down.

I'm glad I'm finally learning to listen to my body instead of pushing myself to the point of exhaustion. I used to feel guilty about my lack of energy and would find myself apologizing for my inability to accomplish tasks. Now I know it's just part of my "new normal."

Yes, I'm getting older, too, but the majority of my physical limitations are a direct result of breast cancer. That was something I never expected and never wanted.

I'm thankful I can make the decision to stop when I need to now. I have learned the hard way to take good care of my body. Loving it and respecting its limitations is extremely important. And for those who think I'm using cancer as an excuse, shame on you. There's an old Native American saying that speaks volumes in this circumstance, "Never criticize a man until you've walked a mile in his moccasins." But I have to change that saying a little bit if you don't mind - I say, "Never judge a breast cancer survivor, you never know when or if you may be diagnosed in the future."