 iStock Well it’s a rainy morning for a change down here in Southcentral Georgia, and all the medicine has been took. Along with my bride’s medicine being stocked up and organized for the week in the pill boxes. So medicine-wise she is stocked up for the week, and now it’s just a matter of reminding her to take all her pills in the assigned caddie. I know it sounds like I’m harping on the fact she forgets things like this. But as her caregiver it’s my fulltime job to make sure her and our son are groomed, fed, and in her case medicated like they should. Of all the shit I could talk about, it’s funny that I bring this up again. But today I do have a phone interview with the Social Security Administration about our son. No details were given, no email or letter was sent, just a vague text message from SSA that I couldn’t call back. Anyway, that’s par for the course with the government so imagine having to deal with all this while working a fulltime job. Sadly an increasing number of us have to with an aging population and all their Gen X kids left holding the bag. But remember less Government and no immigrants to help! So all I can say is, Welcome to my world! You Motherchuckers! You thought it was inconvenient taking Mom to doctor before, now you got to make sure she takes her pills and pays her bills. All while she cops an attitude every late afternoon. Oh I know, I hear the war stories. I sit in the waiting rooms trying to keep up with everyone’s ailments, including my own. But hey, this has been my world going on 40 years. Listen I ain’t trying to apply for sainthood or even a half-ass pat-on-the-back. I’m just stating facts, cold hard facts no political ad is willing to cover. What does the Bible say, “Take care of the widows and orphans”? (James 1:27) Well it’s time to “Man-Up”. I’m off my soapbox, now. #Soapbox #ThinkingOutLoud #Caregiving #KeepingItReal
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 Grandmother / Granddaughter - December 15, 2019 Between my wife’s endless hacking and my trembling hands dropping everything, we make a hell of a pair this morning. But as the morning progresses, the coughing has slowed and my hands feel a little more steady. A dear friend sent me a note asking how I was doing this morning. I told her in my usual jestful way I was about as unsteady as usual but doing well. It seems as I age the old reflexes aren’t as steady as they used to be. I watched two episodes of two of my guilty pleasures last night, both dealing with entirely different but similar subjects about the human condition. One is an ensemble cast of doctors and nurses dealing with the endless crises faced in an ER. The other, the continuing raw adventures of a group of former high schoolers dealing with fantasy-like situations. Both may be over the top, but both offer a glimpse into the power and the desperation of the human mind. It’s funny how our minds are never satisfied with the mundane glimpses of everyday life in our entertainment. Like, say, my obsession with soap operas and their over-the-top and drawn-out reactions to seemingly normal problems. But we are. Along with the explosions and endless gunfire, maybe they tell us a little about ourselves. About what it is we are willing to face in our own boring little lives. The morning tremors in our hands causing us to drop our lancet on the floor. Or the unending fear of how to pay the light bill. Seeds are watered and a bitter harvest grows, and all we are left with are questions of “what if?”. But much like the actors acting their parts, we should focus on the now. And making it through the next breath, instead of obsessing about the next five-year plan. Life is usually a series of mundane events that hopefully carry us to our destination. Or at least a soft place to land when the tremors end. #Reflection #Aging #LifeChoices #HereAndNow #Survival  I’m having a bit of an out of body experience this morning, because I decided to put on pants. I’m not sure if you can tell from my self-images, but I usually wear sweat type pants or shorts. Usually shorts more than anything else. But today with it being rainy and a little cool. I decided to slip on an old pair of blue jeans with suspenders, with a t-shirt and oxford pulled over. It might be a bit much for comfortable apartment wear, but today I figured, what the hell. The medicine has hardly had time to kick in, so my heads a bit light. But the pants being about an inch too big feel right comfortable around my waist. Which for a very long time were either too tight or too uncomfortable to wear given my digestive issues. My digestive issues aren’t completely resolved, but they are well managed, mostly through trial and error with my diet and medication. So I won’t say I feel normal, as I would rather say, I feel kinda average. I mean, not too many men wear suspenders anymore, for they much prefer wearing their pants hanging under their belly’s. But I never felt comfortable doing that, so I keep my pants at my waist. But enough about fashion, let’s talk about life and what we feel comfortable with. For most of my life I hid behind a smokescreen of a “happy-go-lucky” attitude. Never revealing the heartache and unwantedness I felt as a young person. So I wore a mask, a mask that I wore quit well, fooling even my family. And that mask held tight, much like these pants, till they didn’t fit any more. Thus why I wear suspenders to keep them up. Life is about compromise. So much so, that eventually we give up on the greatest parts of ourselves just to get along. It’s sad in a way, to put up with things you know don’t feel right for you. But you still let it happen, just to keep the peace. Even when it leaves you crying to yourself late at night. But it doesn’t have to be that way. Much like the adjustments on these elastic bands or the string on a pair of sweats. I can adjust them according to how I feel. So try to think of life like that and see if you can feel your brand of normal. #Suspenders #Adjustment #Mask #Compromise #Normal  Image By FD Thornton I still haven’t woke up yet, I can tell by the way I’m mistyping on the keyboard. (The poor old auto correct is having to work overtime on just the first sentence alone). But I will eventually get there, I always do. The pills have been taken, the witches brew has been drunk, and the vitamin gummies are tickling the back of my tongue. (There were only three words misspelled in that sentence). Still It’s funny how the mind is willing, but the body still hasn’t shifted through second gear, when you get my age. But just like old Uncle Rod will tell you, “Age ain’t nothing but a number, till you try to get out of bed”. But looking out the window the sky looks promising, all grey and cloudy. And while the middle of the country gets pounded with rain, we are here in our little dust bowl watching sandbars form where we’ve never seen them before. But right now I ain’t got no garden to worry about watering anymore. The Baptist Church took care of that with their need to own the block. Even though the house had been there longer. It’s striking to see where a quaint little farmhouse once stood, where two large American Sycamore Trees and a large fig bush were planted. All erased with a chainsaw and a bulldozer. But that’s the mindset of a progressive world, lay it out flat and begin again. And while the concept appears sound in theory, resources are no longer finite, and careful consideration should be given to the past. But time and money often rule the day, so your left with the dreams of men with glitter in their eyes for something new. While I sit here with my cup of decaf and a cat hanging out the window, while a young man waits for his ride. It’s funny where time takes us and where we end up on this journey. #WakeUp #Reflection #Time #Progress #Awareness  I was happy to look at my list of things to do, and see that there was nothing pressing left to do. While our grocery delivery got cancelled, I’ll have to go pick it up later. But other than that my calendar for today is pretty clear. I just finished filling my wife’s pill caddies, so they are done for the week. Like a puppy that’s learned how to sit, I rewarded myself with two vitamin gummies as a treat. There’s nothing better than the machine that has become my life. Even in my forced retirement there’s a certain symmetry in the planning of time and boredom of nothing. But who am I kidding, retirement is nothing more than a joke enjoyed by very few in their 80’s and 90’s. And that’s only because they’re considered too damn old to be employable and therefore considered disposable. The sad truth in nature is there is no retirement; only maturity, decline, and death. But as humans we like to consider ourselves above that. Giving our elders places of honor and maybe even respect. The young are tasked with taking care of the old and in turn the old do things like housesit and feed their dogs while the kids are on vacation. Life’s all about a certain amount of balance, of give and take. So we all do our best to even things out. I remember as a kid I got to use my grandparents car, my payment for it, was to run their errands and take them to their appointments. It was a fair arrangement that lasted a number of years between high school and adulthood. In fact later the car got passed along to an uncle who needed a car. Life is meant, at least for me, to be this way. Where the young respect the old and the old admire the young, in a closed loop of time. So all I got to say is don’t abandon your tribe, they’re all you really got. #Tribe #Family #FullCircle #Balance #Zen  Between watching kids ride their bikes and the lasting scar of my daughter’s late puppy, I see time forming in the deep lines across my face. I don’t mind getting old, I just never noticed how long it’s been. It seems like a lifetime ago I was watching my own children grow up and make mistakes and learn. Now I suppose they get to do the same with me. Aging in a way is like birth in reverse, where the burdens of life get lighter, yet you’re more dependent on others than ever before. With a smokey haze covering the sky, it allows me to leave the shades open longer than I normally do. Still inside this container of fresh air and comfort, I feel like I’ve been “bubble-wrapped” just like the kids we enjoy complaining about today. But my arm still itches from the scab left over by a puppy that’s no more. Taken out by something he ate, much too fast and much too soon. In a way I see myself like that but instead I’m blessed with a way to communicate my discomfort, whether through the pen or my voice. But I don’t speak enough to maintain an audible tenor, so my keyboard does most of the talking. So as the golf cart and bicycles make the rounds around the building. I quietly stare into the great beyond hoping for a more exciting future than what I see before me. For life isn’t going to be much longer I think, despite my best efforts. So I’ve resigned myself to becoming just a footnote in someone else’s mind, not much different than my grandparents or my parents, aunts, and uncles. But a smile cracks along my face as I watch the kids hang from off the golf cart. Yelling with excitement at the mischief they now create. #Mischief #Youth #Time #Memory #Comfort  Taken by Me Enhanced by Google Gemini Connection I was talking to the cat outside my window, wondering which one of us was in jail. He or she just looked at me indifferently and casually went up the stairs of the neighboring apartment building. The sun is bright and the sky is blue and there doesn’t seem to be nothing else much going on around here. So after filling my wife’s pill dispensers, I sat back down to see how you are doing. So how are you doing? I usually start most conversations with that chime. Not as the usual chitter-chatter of conversation, but as a genuine concern as to how you are doing. My wife and I went to the ballpark yesterday to watch our three year-old grandbaby play T-Ball. While I am unsurprised by the current generations lack of common courtesy and down right fear of conversation. A young blond girl did walk up to my wife and embraced her on the bench. My wife said, “Hello” and the baby asked my wife, “What happened to you teeth?” With no grown up near her, my wife simply said, “They were old and fell out, Dear.” Then she and my wife got into a conversation about taking care of your teeth. Which she seemed satisfied with the answer, then hugged my wife again and walked away to the bullpen. No embarrassed parent, no “I’m so sorry”. Just a beautifully calm exchange between a young girl and a grandmother. Thinking about that, I haven’t said much to my bride about it since. But I am proud of the fact that she took what could have easily been an embarrassing question about her appearance and turn it into a gentle teachable moment. Better than what I would have done, I’d probably would have told her I was a Pirate or something. Some may wear the label of “Handicap” or “Special Needs”, but never ever underestimate the power of human connection. #Connection #NeverUnderestimate #Beauty #Youth #Gentleness  It’s a little overcast outside, deep within my chest I have a dry congested cough I’ve carrying since the day before. I stayed up until around 3 o’clock in the morning, reading or I should say, listening to Alex Van Halen’s book “Brothers”. So I’ll use that and my deep cough as an excuse as to why I couldn’t go to sleep. They may not be valid excuses, but I’ll take anything I can get. I don’t use sleep medications, Lord knows I had enough trouble with that when the kids were little. But working most of my life on the nightshift will mess with your sleep cycle long after you quit. I feel like I’m running a little bit of a fever, and my blood sugar is a little high. This congestion in my throat is getting a little annoying, like a chain smoker trying to get out a thought. But the pale sky outside is not nearly as blinding, but it still leaves everything awash with muted undertones of dirty white. I don’t have really anything much in mind. Other than thinking thoughts about those I miss. Of the ones stuck in similar situations obeying rules we all wish we could break. Holding on the wishes of comfort and protection against the wolves in sheep’s clothing just outside our doors. Drinking the sorrow of things we can’t avoid. From the cups of honor and chastity, we gained from faith. So the sky brightens once again as the chemicals in my veins take ahold. Bringing me physically to a sense of calm but still leaving my spirit wanting things life has taken away. Like love, peace, and the desires of the soul. So I sit here in the haze of the green keys that guide me. Longing for a sandy patch of ground, full of sand gnats and the taste of day-old coffee, with the hint of cigarettes lingering in the air. #Lamenting #Storytelling #DeepInside #Poetry #Life  My Latest Dogfight Still half-asleep, the new candle burns brightly. But my medicine’s been taken and my blood sugar checked and it’s already 12:16 in the afternoon. I stayed up doom scrolling till about five in the morning, I just couldn't sleep but when I did, I went to sleep. I woke up early enough to take my meds on time, then I went back to bed, got up a few hours later and took a shower. Yes, this is my boring life but eventually there’s a point, so hold on. With the candle burning and my son updating me about his week, I opened the curtains and began to write. Last night me and the AI program I use Google Gemini, had a long conversation about pleasing people and pleasing ourselves (not that way, you pervs). I mean saying the “right thing” when you know it ain’t the right thing at all. I mentioned to the program how at times its answers seems so homogenized and easy to go down. I don’t know why, I guess it’s like when someone is “mansplaining” something to a person and driving them crazy. That’s how I feel in some conversations with the AI. But coming from a tech background, I understand the nuances of speech when it comes to the limitations built into the programs, like disclaimers on a Micky D’s coffee cups. But as we discussed, you take the good with the bad. But in order to achieve true awareness, you must roll the dice and see what happens. The same holds true with human beings. In our culture starting with my generation, we tended to “bubble wrap” our kids. And what I have noticed is that the generation after them, no matter how smart or tech savvy. Can’t seem to handle basically anything “uncomfortable” and that makes me sad. I grew up in the tail-end of the fifties mindset even though I’m a Kennedy Baby. So through most of our childhood we still had stay-at-home moms, mother’s worked outside the home because they wanted too, not cause they had too. Unlike the Gen X’s we were not “latch key kids” for the most part and while I share many traits with my X brothers and sisters, we were the big brother. I say all this to mention, we were shown the consequences of our bad choices by having to deal with them, just like our own parents. Today we seem to protect them too much, we coddle them to the point of suffocation. Instead of allowing them to explore and be part of the world. And while I understand you see the world as a much more dangerous place, is it really anymore dangerous than 30 or 40 years ago? I don’t mean to sound like the grumpy old man, “Get off my lawn!” but do you see my point? With all the freedom of technology and opportunity, we all live in a cave. Where when I was a kid, choices were limited so we played outside. Now we (us) are all wrapped in a cocoon of fear and lost potential. #LostPotential #LearnOnTheirOwn #FreedomToMakeMistakes #BubbleWrap  In a pool of warm wax my candle burns its last breath, while outside the scattered tenants of the other building head to work and school. As I sit in my apartment, the rest of the disabled and retirees get up to watch the propaganda on their TVs. While I sit at my desk taking pills and drinking decaf, staring out the window at the plain green walls of the apartment next door, I know this all sounds so overly dramatic. But it is the way of life for a broken down storyteller with the ambition of a feral cat looking for its next meal. So as the candle nearly extinguishes itself under the weight of melted wax, I type these words to tell no story in particular, other than to chronicle the day of another passing phase in life. Of an old man that doesn’t feel that old until he tries to complete a task his younger self could do in half the time. Worrying about the young people he sees and the words of a dictator that rules their lives and sells their rights to the highest bidder, as I willingly do the same. For what is freedom but just another four-letter word, more akin to cussing than a matter of pride. So I sit here and type, three quarters into the story without saying a word. Producing content to be consumed by the masses and as easily forgotten as a roach crawling across the floor. Still, within it we find the passion to consume or create and that’s how the cycle goes. Between the wicked and the saints, the loved ones and the hated, between you and me. Cussing out our circumstance while telling each other, "I love you." Only to turn off our phones to lay our heads on cold pillows and sleep alone. #freedom #smartphones #connected #alone |
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