The Caregiver’s Tales: A Blog

The yard is in need of edging, which means grass is thick around the edges in various spots. But I got a new book the other day, and I’d much rather sit and read. Of course, that’s not really the responsible thing to do, but I wonder if I’m aging out of the need to be responsible, and is it really responsible? After all I am getting soft around the edges so maybe my yard can be soft around the edges. We’d be a matched pair.

There’s a phrase, keeping it together, which applies to my life. I have a hard time doing it. Some people seem to be built like walls, brick and mortar, everything in place. I, however, feel like a loose accretion of rocks and gravel. Bits falling off, dust trailing behind, nothing stuck anywhere that will stick for long. It means that when I think I’ve got it all together something is likely to fall off.

Several months ago, I had a small get together at my house. To decorate, I bought cut flowers, put them in a vase, and set them on the island in my kitchen. My guests enjoyed them. Afterwards, I left them out until they started to wilt. Then I decided to replace them. I’ve had cut flowers on my island in my kitchen every day since then.

I wish, in my youth, that someone would have taught me how to do crossword puzzles. I think it might have helped me learn the art of patience and quiet thinking. My late wife did them, but I don’t know how she came to the practice, or what pleasure it brought here. I needed a mentor to make the suggestion then teach me the art.

I watched an ant walk the length of a table the other day. On his way to somewhere to do something, most likely look for food. But there’s no telling what his journey was about. He was just a tiny being, walking in his world, unaware of me or my world. And while I sat in a community of friends listening to music, I wondered about his community of friends. Did they miss him? Would they even know if he never came back?

I did a good thing yesterday. I got peeved and kept it to myself. That feels like progress. Although, since making the decision last November to stop talking about my pet peeves, I’m fairly certain I still talk about them on occasion. I likely unload on my friends and family, without much thought, whenever one of my pets rears its head. I guess old habits die hard.

I spent Saturday in the company of friends. Friends from the old times, the old days. From the time when life was young and tomorrow was an endless stretch of days.

As a young man, pulling on your pants one leg at a time is no big deal. As an older man it’s a test of agility and technique. Several weeks back I thought I’d forgotten how to do it.