A TALE OF THREE HOUSES AND A BOY 

On a short street, in an older neighborhood, there are three houses and a boy. The neighborhood where these houses are located is almost 70 years old.  The boy is almost 14.

House #1 was bought by a young couple when it was merely a foundation.  The young couple raised three children in house #1.  It was a happy time for the family and the house.

Time passed and the children grew up and moved away.  Eventually, the couple sold house #1 and moved to a bigger house in a different town.  Years passed.  The couple grew older.  The man became ill and the wife became worn out caring for him.  

As his illness progressed, the man became confused and unhappy.   He kept insisting he wanted to go home.  Here is where House #2 becomes part of this tale.

House #2 is right next door to House #1.  It is owned by another young couple. The daughter who grew up in House #1 and her husband.   They have two sons.  The older son marries and has a son, the boy in this tale.  Unfortunately, the marriage doesn't last so the boy and his mother move into House #2 with his grandparents.

But it is a small house, and the boy is growing, so when another house on the short street comes up for sale the grandparents buy it.  House #3 is in bad shape, so the grandparents renovate it and rent it to the mother and their grandson.  The boy is very happy.  Now he has two houses to call home.

Meanwhile the daughter's parents are struggling, her father is very sick and her mother needs help caring for him, but they live too far away for day-to-day help.  Amazingly, House #1 is suddenly put up for sale.  The old couple buy it, but it needs a lot of work to make it accessible for them.

Again, the daughter and her husband take on the job of renovating a second house on their short street.  They turn House #1 into a cozy home for the parents.  Not only cozy but fitted out with everything a disabled person needs.  So, the old couple move into House #1 again.  The father is very happy.  He sits at the picture window every day and waves at everyone.  Finally, he is home again.

His wife is happy too. She has her daughter and son in law living right next door in House #2.  They take on part of the burden of caring for her husband and make his final months joyful.

The boy is overjoyed.  He loves his great grandparents very much. He now has three houses he calls home. He runs in and out of House #1 and gives his great grandparents much pleasure.

Time goes by and his great grandfather dies.  He dies in his own bed surrounded by his family.  The boy experiences his first loss of someone he loved but sees how it is the natural order of things.  He comforts his great grandmother and becomes very protective of her.

Each house has a unique story, but they are tied together by the boy and the families who love him.  Not all children are lucky enough to know their grandparents well and certainly not their great grandparents.  This boy not only knows them but is living with them and learning life's lessons daily.

That is the tale of the three houses and the boy.

 

 THE LEGEND OF DRAGONFLIES

 

 Since Ron died, my family and I have had numerous incidents of what people say are signs that your deceased love one is trying to contact you.  These range from pictures leaping off the wall,  Yes, leaping  I witnessed it myself two different times in two different rooms.  .  To the pennies.  Time and again we have all found pennies in the most unexpected places.  Pennies from heaven as the legend goes.  

But the dragonflies have been the most remarkable things,  Before these happenings, I can't remember the last time I saw a dragonfly. Suddenly, I was seeing dragonflies everywhere. The first one I saw flew over my head and landed on the windowsill as I was watering my flowers.  I walked up to it and it didn't move.  It was a beautiful silver and white color.  One even landed on Helen in the pool and stayed and stayed.

Recently, in Florida, we would sit and drink our coffee on the balcony of our condo.  Every morning, swarms of dragonflies would fly around us.  One morning, I had just gone in to refill my coffee, when Andy started calling me back.  A dragonfly was flying at the sliding doors trying to get in.  I knew it was Ron trying to get my attention.  

I was so intrigued by these incidents that I researched to see how dragonflies became a sign that someone on the other side was reaching out to you to let you know they were still around in spirit even though we can't see them anymore.

Apparently, author Doris Stickney wrote a story about dragonflies to help explain death to children.  The gist of it goes like this.  

A colony of water bugs were leading a happy life in the mud of a lily pond.  They spent their lives scurrying to and fro.  Every once in a while. one bug would get the urge to climb up the lily stalk and disappear never to be seen again.  The other bugs became curious about what happened and why the missing bug didn't come back.  

So the rest of the bugs made a pact,  The next bug that got the urge to climb up the stalk would come back to tell the others what happened.  They all promised they would keep the pact.  Soon it happened again, another bug climbed up the stalk,  Up, up and up he climbed until he fell onto the lily pad.  

When he awoke, he was startled to find that he had two sets of wings, and a long tail.  And best of all he could fly.  He swooped and dipped and soared happy with his beautiful new body.  Then he remembered the pact. So he swooped down to the water where he could see the others scurrying around in the mud.  But much to his shock, he bounced right off the water and no matter how he tried he couldn't go back down to his old home.

He felt bad but he knew the secret would be revealed only when it was time for each bug to climb the stalk and discover this lovely new life.  And so, we too will only know what is on the other side when it is our turn to discard our old bodies for shiny new ones.  Thus the lovely dragonfly comes to tell us not to grieve for our loved ones,  they have only discarded their old bodies, but their spirits are soaring.

ON BEING OLD

 I'm old.  .No getting around it.  I will be 82 next month. I'm supposed to be wise, kind or grumpy, frail, and a burden.  Well, I'm probably as wise as any other 81 year old,  I'm not grumpy and I try to be kind.  Though I will tell you that I can't tolerate whiners, liars, laziness, or cruelty.  I try not to be a burden but sometimes I feel I am because loving kindhearted people don't allow me to do certain things,  In their kindness, they worry too much.  

So let me tell you how being old looks through my eyes.  First I will tell you that I am extremely lucky to be in good health.  Believe me, that is a blessing!  I have my aches and pains.  All 81 year old bodies have been through a lot of wear and tear.  But I take care of  myself physically and mentally. I exercise daily, I love food so I eat a variety including the occasional splurge of sugar or alcohol.  

Mentally, I read constantly.  I always have.  I have taught myself to stay up with the latest technological inventions.  So in addition to  playing games on my phone, I do my banking,  I book my travel and I am the travel agent for my busy daughter and son in law.  My eldest son, who is quite the techy himself says I know more than he does.  I was in Ireland with a tour group and and there were long check in lines at the airport.  I  showed the tour guide how we could check ourselves in and she was amazed,  Side note.  Just because you are old, it doesn't hurt to toot your own horn once in a while.  I know we are supposed to be invisible, but speak up.  We are old not dead. 

And speaking of the dead, if we are lucky enough to live to be old, we will lose a lot of loved ones along the way.  We will have to endure unbelievable pain and sadness.  It is the price we pay for extra years. So make sure those years are worth it.

The thing is that how we spend those years are more of a state of mind then anything else.  If you are reading this and you are still so young that you can't imagine being my age, let me ,tell you what every old person would tell you.  We are only old on the outside.  Inside, we are still young,  We are many ages of our youth.  Sometimes, I am 15 just beginning to become a woman,  Unsure of my value, afraid of what others think of me.  Oh what I could tell that girl.  Other times, I am in my early 30's with my children starting to have lives of their own.  Starting to be something other than a mother.  A lover again to my husband.  Both of us starting to relish our freedom, learning how to play again.  

I know I am 81.  I don't lie to myself.  But I still love to have fun.  I love new clothes, trying new makeup and being feminine.  Especially now, after this pandemic.  I am tired of ugly.  Tired of sweats and pajamas.  I want to wear dresses forget about my old legs.  I want to be pretty.  I'm looking forward not back.  I'm planning for the future. 

My future includes lots of travel.  I am lucky that I have found a wonderful travel company that goes out of the way to make trips fun and safe.  I have made lots of great friends in my travels.  When my beloved husband of 62 years died last year, I was not sure if I could continue to travel.  I have so many wonderful memories of the trips we took together.  He was the best companion and I just wasn't sure if I could go alone, but I also have a long bucket list of places I want to see before I join him, so off I went.  People were so kind and remembered Ron with love.  So I have several trips booked for this year and already have a few in mind for next year. And I will wear my pretty dresses!  I am looking forward not backwards.

So when you see an old person, don't pity them,  Think wow. I hope I live to be old.

THE LITTLE HOUSE

 Once upon a time, there was a little house.  Wait, let's start at the very beginning.  Once upon a time, there was a foundation of a little house.  Just a hole in the ground really.  But you could see that it was the beginning of a house.  Not a very big house because this was before the time when everyone thought they needed a huge house.  But nonetheless, it was in a nice little neighborhood and there was a school less than a block away.

Once upon a time, there happened to be a young couple looking for a house.  They were living in a very tiny apartment and there was a baby coming in the spring.  

One day the couple were out driving and they came upon this soon to be house.  There was a sign with the builders name so the couple called and bought the little house.  They were very excited.  A home of their own.  They were very much in love and they dreamed of all the happy times they would have in this little house.  The house grew and their baby grew.  It was a race to see if the house would be ready before the baby got here. 

The baby won.  But a couple of months later, the little house was ready and the couple and their baby boy moved into their new home.  Life was good and soon another baby was on the way.  Another boy was born in the fall and the little house was full of baby furniture and happy laughter.

By the third Christmas in the little house, another baby was on the way.  This time a little girl.  The little house was getting almost to tiny to hold all the things that children need.  Where to put three beds in the small bedroom?  The young couple could not afford to move.  And besides, they loved the little house.  And soon, the children would be starting school.  The lovely school right down the street.  

Luckily, Grandpa came up with a unique solution.  In the small bedroom, Grandpa built ship style beds against the walls with drawers underneath to store the children's things.  It was a lovely solution and worked very well while the children were little.  He also built floor to ceiling bookcases for extra storage.

But children grow and soon they were teenagers and needed privacy and more space.  So the little house was expanded to include a large room on the back of the house for the boys bedroom.  And the little room became the daughters room.  

The little house was growing with the children.  And getting older as they did.  But it was still a happy place where all the neighborhood children loved to come.  Great friendships were formed that would last a lifetime.  It was a welcoming home.  

And then one day as happens, the children were grown and gone.  But soon, there were grandchildren who came to play in the little house and the walls rang with laughter again.  The little house was happy once more.

That young couple was now middle aged but still happy with the little house.  The big room on the back was now a family room where birthday parties, and holidays were celebrated.  There was a fireplace with a mantle to hang stockings on and a perfect place to put a Christmas tree. 

The back yard was full of flower beds and trees that had started as little saplings planted by the children but now reached high into the sky.  The front yard that had served as a ball diamond for numerous games of baseball with the neighbor kids now was green and lush.  

The neighborhood had remained stable and best of all their daughter and son in law lived right next door.

But things were about to change again.  Grandpa died.  The grandpa who had made the ships beds and bookcases and all so by the way dug a basement under the house after it was built.  Grandpa got ill and died.  Grandma was lonely so she came to live in the little house with the couple.  

But grandma had lots of things accumulated over a lifetime and the little house was stuffed to the brim.  And there was no privacy for the couple.  Something had to be done.  

So it was decided that the couple and Grandma would look for a bigger house.  And the little house would be sold.  Everyone was excited but the couple were sad to leave their first home and all the memories it held.  

So after several months, grandma and the couple found a neighborhood they liked about 12 miles away from the little house and had a larger house built that would have room for all of them.  It was a nice house but it was not their beloved little house.

They lived there quite comfortably for 15 years and then Grandma got old and died.  And suddenly, the larger house became a bit too large.  But the couple were both retired and traveling a lot so it was OK

Then the couple became old and their health was not good.  It became harder to take care of the big house.  He needed more and more care and she needed surgery.  There was talk of assisted living or nursing homes.  Not happy subjects.  Then one day, they received a phone call from their daughter.  Their old house was up for sale.  Would they consider buying it and moving back?

There was a lot to consider.  The little house was in a bad state of repair.  It would need lots of work and lots of money to make it livable and also wheelchair adaptable for the man.  But there were lots of advantages too.  Their daughter and son in law would be right next door and able to help take care of them.  They could live out there years at home not in a nursing home.  

The first look at the little house was shocking but also strangely healing.  It needed so much but they decided to buy it back. Throughout that summer, the house was under construction.  Their daughter and son in law worked tirelessly to make it livable again.  It was finished just in time for Thanksgiving and the old couple moved in.  The daughter placed her father's chair right in front of the window where he could watch all the comings and goings.  He was very happy waving at everyone.  

The woman felt safe and happy being back home at the little house where she had raised her children.  Sadly, the man got sicker but the woman and her children were happy that he could stay home and be cared for in his own bed.  He died in the little house where their lives had started.  He was surrounded by his wife and children and all his memories.  The woman was very sad but the little house helped ease her pain.  She plans to stay in the little house until it is her time to go.

THE GAME OF LIFE

They are just a group of old men dammit.  I could cry.  Heroes should remain young and strong in our hearts.  Seeing these men white haired, bent and frail reminds us too much of our own destiny.

We were young and vibrant when we thrilled to their power and energy.  We followed their exploits, basked in their fame and the honors they achieved.  Now they are old.  Their glory days are long past. They have been usurped by younger, stronger men.  A new generation is cheering the new heroes.

We are old.  Our heroes are old.  It is hard to be replaced but that is life.  We all grow old if we are lucky.

And that's what we need to remember.  If we are around.to see our heroes grow old that means we have lived a full life and so have they.

This blog was inspired by a trip to see the 1966 Orioles team being honored.  It was special to my husband Ron because that team was the one he loved.  He had watched them play and met several of them over the years.  Most of them were the same age as Ron.

Ron has Parkinson's with dementia now.  I watch him lose more of himself everyday.  I take every opportunity that comes along to remind him of the happier days in his life.  Baseball has always been a huge part of his life.  He played in high school and in the early days of our marriage.  He was still playing when he started coaching our sons' little league team; even coached our daughter's team.

Recently, our children decorated a room for him with some of the Oriole memorabilia that he has collected over the years.  He was overwhelmed.

The game of life goes on.  It is just being played a little differently.  Now we watch baseball games on television.  But Ron often thinks we are there.  The other day when he said we should start home before the crowd, I asked him where he thought we were.  He said, "In the upper deck."  That's ok with me.

MARRIED FIFTY FIVE YEARS? NO WAY!

Today is my 55th wedding anniversary.  Fifty five years, over three quarters of my life spent with one man.  It is hard for me to believe that so much time has passed.  I know that some people reading this will think we must be a really old couple.  When I was young, I could never have imagined being married this long and certainly not still being so active and alive. 

We will be spending our anniversary babysitting our three year old great grandson which we do every other week.  In two weeks we will be leaving for a 12 day tour of Scandinavia, Germany, and Russia.  We are active, enthusiastic, and busy. 

We have been extremely lucky and we know it.  First, we found someone to love.  Someone compatible, though at first we seemed to have more differences than things in common.  Ron was very athletic, outgoing, and had spent his entire life in one place.  He had lots of friends that he had known since grade school. 

I on the other hand, was a book worm, and didn't even watch sports let alone participate.  I had lived in three states, gone to several schools and had spent most of my senior year in high school working.  But somehow in spite of those differences, we made it work. 

In all the important things we were in agreement.  We both valued honesty, loyalty, hard work and we loved each other.  When our children came along, our lives revolved around them.  We were involved in Little League, Brownies, Boy Scouts and PTA.  We were the parents who everyone depended on.  Our house was always full as were our hearts.

And then one day, the kids were gone, (not for long, but that's another story).  We were alone again.  What would we do now?  Well, we fell in love again and for a few years we played like a couple of kids.  We did silly things like driving to Nashville, TN for dinner on the spur of the moment.  We went to Disneyworld without kids for our 25th anniversary.  We partied with friends and just enjoyed being a couple.  We had never had a honeymoon.  By the time we were in our early twenties, we had three children.  Now we had time to bond as a couple.

 Of course, after a few years our grandchildren came along and we began a new phase of our marriage.  Now we are great grandparents.  If you think grandchildren are wonderful, just wait until you have great grandchildren.  You have more time to enjoy them.  You have had years of experience and you are able to relax more with them. 

So here we are, fifty five years later.  We are lucky, we have a few health problems but are still mobile.  We have a little more disposable income so we are able to do things we enjoy.  We are fulfilling our bucket list.  Most importantly, we still enjoy being together.  One of the advantages of spending so many years together and living through all the joys and tragedies of life is that we have a lot to talk about.  We share the same memories and spend many hours talking about them.  But we also spend time planning the future.  We know life is short and we embrace each day.  As the poet said, "Grow old along with me, the best is yet to be."

WHY CAN'T I REMEMBER WHERE I PUT MY PHONE

I am not a disorganized person.  I know where everything is in my kitchen.  I can find my tax receipts for the last several years.  But I can't remember where my phone is five minutes after I use it.  I tell myself to be aware of where I am putting it, but when it rings, I am searching frantically for it.  Since we no longer have a land line, I have even had to go to the car and call my phone in order to locate it.  That's ridiculous. 

I am not a stupid person.  When I watch Jeopardy, I sometimes answer questions that the panel get wrong.  I organize all our travel and never lose tickets or my passport.  But I can't keep track of my phone.  It has become laughable to my family, but not to me.

And to tell the truth it is not just my phone.  I have a habit of taking my shoes off where ever I sit down.  Then unfortunately, I cannot remember where I left them.  I can't tell you how many times I am ready to walk out the door and have to stop and search for my shoes. 

Why is it that I can remember something from years ago but forget where I put something I had a couple of hours ago?

Don't tell me it is short term memory loss.  I have no trouble remembering what I had for breakfast or what I read on Facebook.  I remember to pay my bills on time.  I remember to tell Ron to take his meds.  I even remember the date I take my once a month pill.  I read three or four books at a time without confusion, so why can't I remember where I put my phone?  Oh no, I can hear it ringing now.  Where is it?  Never mind, whoever it was hung up.