As my age begins to increase, I find that I’ve been thinking more about how my goals are changing. Or, not changing. Do all older people find themselves in this situation? Do we rethink our lives and, as that saying goes, regret those things more that we didn’t do than those that we did?
I am so excited about this that I know of no other way of presenting it, except to use the information from an article published by the Denver Gazette. I have the Gazette dropped into my e-mail box every day – sometimes, many times a day, depending on the “breaking news” of that instant.
If I am correct, Noah Festenstein wrote the article: “Will human eye transplants make the blind see? CU Anschutz Medical is exploring the possibility.” I have taken information from this article without hesitation. I could not paraphrase and make it better. I know that this borders on plagiarism, but I figure that this once, it’s okay; and Noah gets the credit for the research and writing. Everyone needs to know this information. And, if you want to read more than I can provide, look it up.
I’ve just come home from having a delightful dinner with neighbors, Rita and Tasha. After our delicious repast, we watched a movie, “White Bird.” It is a new movie starring Helen Mirren and others. I think she is one incredible actor and, so, was pleased to be in the audience.
As usual, I was thinking the other day about my life and what has occurred in the course of eighty-six years. In that time, I’ve been allowed to enjoy a host of happiness. And, of course, some sadness.
I’m learning how to let go of things that have occupied my being since I was a young child. “Letting go” can be, in many ways, cathartic for most people. Myself, included.
I can’t say that I remember a whole lot about being a child. Maybe, that is good, because what I do remember isn’t always pleasant. I’m sure there must have been pleasantness in my young life – I just don’t remember those times. I often think that if I could just put those unpleasant memories in a balloon and let them float away, that would be best. Now, I say, just stop remembering the unpleasant. Remember the pleasant – no matter how few those times are that can be remembered.
As a teenager, my memories were of going to school, going to work at the library, and going home by eight in the evening and studying for the next day’s school work, finishing anything that I had not accomplished on the bus ride to work and home. Sister Clara says that I was always reading, as well. I do remember reading, but never know how much. I think that of all of those activities during those years, the best was going to work at the library. I loved library work; and I still do. I suppose that’s why my personal library collection numbers somewhere between two and three thousand volumes. And, our boss, Miss Knox, ran a library for a city’s population of about 180,000 souls with three adults and the rest of her staff of high school and college kids. And, ran it well.
Miss Knox was an incredible mentor. She and my high school librarian were important figures in my life at that time. As I think about it, I now realize that my mother Hazel was also one of my mentors. Without saying it, she taught her daughters to be strong, independent, and capable people. She had had many disappointments in her life; yet, she instilled in the five of us the will and know-how to get things done. Her influence is definitely a memory worth keeping. Then, of course, at almost ninety, she left us. Letting go of her influence was difficult, although we know we’re are stronger because of it.
At the time our mother passed, we still had most of our families intact. For me, in subsequent years, I lost and had to let go of my husband, a daughter, parents-in-law, a beloved brother-in-law, sisters, neighbors – I could go on but won’t. Letting go of these individuals is painful. We all need to recover and continue living.
And, then, of course, there are the pets we have lost. In most cases, they have also become family. So, we release them because we know it is not kind to keep them alive and hurting just because we love them.
This week, I had to let another thing in my life go. For more than thirty years (on and off), I have been an International Lion. I became a Lion when I was the school superintendent in a small district on the Eastern Plains of my state. As was generally the thing in those days, I was the only woman in the club. When I left the school district to return to the university, I transferred to a club in a small town near the university, even becoming the president of that group. But, due to extenuating circumstances, I was president at the time that the club disbanded. There was a several year hiatus in my membership, until a friend invited me to become a member of my current club. Now, several years later, I find it necessary to leave that club; again, what seems to be extenuating circumstances have caused my departure. This “letting go” has been difficult for me, but as I said in my letter of resignation, I’m not willing to be a “half member,” any longer. And, so, as much as I will miss this group, I have now let go.
We usually think of Thanksgiving as a time to be thankful for those things that we have been given. Maybe, Thanksgiving is also a time to think it is time for letting go. Sometimes, it seems that we need a thump on the head to realize we must continue our lives to do those gifts justice. And, we should be grateful.
My hope and prayer for you is that you have a peaceful and blessed Thanksgiving of 2024.
Be Safe and Be Well
The Cranky Crone
Thoughtful comments are appreciated.
Several years ago, at a time that I needed help with putting books, papers, things in order, Daughter #1 told Susan about my need, and it was arranged that she would come to work with me. Apparently, she had serious trepidations about working with me.
Today, as I was checking out my purchases at my local craft store, I saw that the young woman who was checking me out had tattoos on her arms and upper chest. I told her I wished that she and I had more time because I would like to ask her about her beautiful tattoos. I told her that I planned to write a BLOG about tattoos. She seemed pleased.
I am taking a workshop, an 8-week workshop involved with poetry. We receive a poem prompt, every day. We are expected to write thirty poems before the workshop is over. That’s THIRTY POEMS, folks. When we began in September, I thought I’d never get that many poems written. But, I’m doing it! As well as attending the 5-6, one-hour sessions every week; during many of those sessions, we also write poetry to a prompt.
Hello, all.
What you get with this BLOG is only a poem that I’ve written for a workshop that I’m taking. We are expected to write thirty poems by the end of October. It is a great workshop. I’m having fun.
Dear Readers,
For those of you who live in the Denver, Colorado, metropolitan area, I have a place where you just gotta’ go! The Bookies Bookstore has been around for many years. Created and organized by Sue Lubbeck, it lived in her house in the beginning. Daughter #1 and I remember going there where every horizontal surface of the house was covered with books. Children’s books, primarily.
I met Sue at a Bookies’ book fair at a school where buyers had an opportunity to purchase books for children and grands; and, teachers were in seventh heaven because there were all of the books they had hoped to read to their students. Or, to have their students read. Parents and grandparents were especially pleased to have quality presents to give at Christmas and birthdays.
When her neighbors became unhappy because UPS trucks were visiting her house to deliver packages, she moved her business to a duplex further south. There, the shopper could see the same effect. Books on every horizontal surface. With the space soon outgrown, The Bookies moved to East Mississippi Avenue in a shoppette across from the a tall black hotel. The top was a cap that looked very much like the character in Star Wars; my students named it “Darth Vader Hotel.”
The expanded floor space allowed for more inventory, as well as books for adults. I really don’t know that books for adults began with that store; I only assume they did. Books, puzzles, games, and many things that go with books and reading. My favorite place in the adult section was and is the poetry section.
I remember being there with the three children I was home schooling (after retiring from “formal” teaching programs); we met a couple of Sue’s friends. A husband and wife. The children and I explained why we were at the store, and they were not at “school.” They each explained that they had $10 to purchase a book. Not a toy. Not a puzzle. A book.
Before we left the store, Sue informed me that this kind and generous couple had set up an account for my children so they could come each month and purchase a book. I know this was Sue’s doing.
I always felt comfortable being in that store. I wrote a sort-of poem for them, which I understand they put on their website for some time. It read: “Happiness is going into the bookstore where everybody knows your name.”
After Sue’s passing, the store was purchased by another bookstore owner. Eventually, even the East Mississippi store was outgrown, and The Bookies Bookstore now resides at 2085 South Holly, in the first block north of East Evans Avenue. Most of the wonderful staff went with the new store. I was there, today, to purchase the just-released adult book, Patriot, A Memoir, by Alexei Navalny, who was murdered while in a Russian prison. It seems that there are always adult books for me to find. New books. Classics. Fiction, Non-Fiction. Cookbooks, History. If they don’t have it, they can probably get it for you.
Children’s books are still their important purpose for being. They have a give-back program for helping teachers with their classroom needs. I buy children’s books. It seems to me that we never outgrow our need for the beauty and humor that children’s books provide.
I was at The Bookies, last weekend. One of my favorite living children’s writers, Denise Vega, had a book launch for her new book. Adela’s Mariachi Band. It’s available in both English and Spanish. I have both, even though I can’t speak, read, or write Spanish.
If you have some time, go to The Bookies Bookstore. Revel in the new space. The tons and tons of books – for children and adults. And, yes, I bought a couple of poetry books. What else!
YOU GOTTA’ GO!
Be Safe and Be Well
The Cranky Crone
Thoughtful comments are appreciated.
We make wishes but they don’t always come into being. We hope to do something. It doesn’t happen. This morning I lay in bed wishing for sleep. Planning for sleep. Hoping for sleep. I found that, as usual, my thoughts continued to flow. “Just get up and write,” I said to myself. You are not going to sleep, right now. And, tomorrow is another day. You have no where to go and only the things on your list to be done.”