Category Archives: MUSINGS

STUCK IN THE MIDDLE WITH YOU

Last week I went in for my 50,000 mile check-up. When the doc asked how I was doing, for the first time in my life I answered, “Not so good.”


Welcome to middle age and beyond. Everything from here on out is down hill and I feel like Sisyphus trying to keep that infernal boulder from rolling into the valley. Yea, though I walk through the valley, I may fear not . . . but I’m lugging around twenty extra pounds, my back aches, my feet are sore and I’m just so damned tired all the time.


After eliminating any serious causes for my complaints, the doc asked me if I was experiencing a lot of stress. When I answered in the affirmative he said I had to learn to identify the source of the stress and eliminate it.


I told him that was a good idea but I’d probably end up in jail.


I thought being an adult, being married and raising kids was tough, but this empty nest thing is no piece of cake. I still worry just as much about my kids, but I have even less say in their life choices.


I may be dealing a lot less with the children since they’ve flown the coop, but thanks to retirement I have twice-as-much husband in this phase of life. I was the CEO of home and hearth for more than 30 years. Now all of a sudden it feels like I’ve been demoted to facility manager.


I used to be able to dismantle, paint and redecorate a room between the time my husband left for work and returned for supper. Now it takes me longer than that just to explain what I want to do . . . or rather why I want to do it. Being that I’m over twenty-one, I can’t quite come to terms with this permission asking thing.


He wants to know why he doesn’t have a say in how we decorate. I point to the NASCAR die casts that are now a feature of our living room.


He wants us to do everything together – Wednesday softball, Friday night races, and Sunday football game on the widescreen at the local bar.


A few weekends ago, I mentioned that a local band, including a few guys who used to play music with my brother, was playing nearby.


“So what?” he said.


I didn’t bother to explain the “what” was that I wanted to go listen to them. Any fun I might have had was spoiled by his obvious condemnation. Funny thing is I can act similarly disinterested in any number of sporting events yet he seems oblivious to the fact that “we” are not having as good a time as he is.


Cleaning the house and cooking meals apparently doesn’t come under the umbrella of doing everything together either, though cleaning the garage does.


I hate to complain. It’s not like I don’t want him here. After ten-years apart while he drove an 18-wheeler across the country, I really do want to spend time with him. Given the heart attack that should have left him dead in his truck somewhere in Indiana, I could be lamenting a very lonely life right now.


I thought mid-life was all about being stuck in the middle – somewhere between young and old, between raising children and aging parents, working hard and reaping rewards.


So why is it so gosh-darn hard to find the middle ground between too much alone and too much together?


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GET A ^ LIFE at MAD Goddess


LAUGH AND THE WORLD LAUGHS WITH YOU – CRY AND YOU CRY ALONE

The Mad Goddess philosophy for life is based on one ruling principle: I am not responsible for anybody’s happiness but my own.

I’m not talking about safety, well being, or the assurance of basic needs; just the general assumption that fully functioning, reasonably intelligent adults should be able to create their own happiness – and if they can’t, it’s not my job – regardless of how much I love them.

In that light, I am unapologetic for my absence this past month. In fact, to apologize would be quite presumptuous on my part – like it ruins your week if there is no post on my blog?

Even if you do miss me, would Cleopatra have given a second thought to her adoring subjects had she desired a lengthy seclusion? If pop diva Cher planned a comeback world tour, is there any doubt that it would be a sell out? Is there even one fan who would condemn her for her long absence, rather than embrace her return?

Staying focused on my own happiness, after a half-lifetime of putting husbands, children, parents and friends (to name a few) ahead of me, is a challenge that takes serenity, courage and wisdom – as extolled in my favorite prayer; “Grant me the serenity to accept those things I cannot change, the courage to change those things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.”

Two weeks ago, my step son-in-law was diagnosed with stage four brain cancer at the age of 35. This is just another, in a line of sorrows that have defined my middle years, including the deaths of my step son at age 26 and my daughter’s significant other at the age of 31 – not to mention that my husband’s cardiologist has told us that every morning he wakes up is a blessing.

What does all of this have to do with happiness? With each of these tragedies I have become a little bit stronger and I have learned one very hard lesson. Happiness is not a circumstance, it is a choice.

This was most profoundly impressed on me by Jai Pausch, the wife of Randy Pausch, a 47 year old professor who lost his battle with pancreatic cancer, but not before inspiring millions of people with his famous “Last Lecture.”

In her interview with Jai and Randy before his death, Diane Sawyer asked Jai how she coped with knowing that her husband would die. She said that no matter how much she wanted to change that fact, she couldn’t. She could spend the time she had left, being angry, feeling sorry for herself and their three young children, or she could choose to make the absolute best of every moment they had left.

At the time I heard those words I was sinking under the weight of similar fears. I dreaded leaving for work each day, but I had no choice – my income may have been meager, but with my husband unable to work, it was all we had. More so, I feared coming home every night, convinced that my fate was to find my husband cold and lifeless – the same way I found my father not so long ago. I was certain I could not withstand one more tragedy in my life. The fact of the matter is, I can – I need only choose to do so.

There are many more losses to come in my life. I will grieve. I will miss those people who die, or I will miss the nature of relationships that must change because of illness or disability. There will always be pieces of my heart missing as well – but whether I live the rest of my life in misery or happiness is up to me.

Likewise, if those around me choose to be miserable (Mad Goddess or not) I don’t possess the power to change them. That has been a difficult – and humbling lesson.

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SHOW ME THE WAY TO SHAMBALA

I’m an eternal optimist – always looking for a silver lining. I turn the other cheek with a firm belief that I won’t get slapped a second time, I believe that good triumphs over evil and I’m sure that a positive outlook is half the battle.

Take this current economic downturn. Could it possibly have a more optimistic label? What our grandparents called a Great Depression, our parents called a Recession. Leave it to the Baby Boomers to call it an economic downturn, just a little obstacle along The Road to Shambala.

Or perhaps, it’s a redirection from the detour that had us traveling the fast lane to play-now-pay-later, where the credit card companies set the pace in a pied piper’s parade.

Maybe as a midlifer unafraid to sieze opportunity, you were on the route to early retirement with a high yield, high stakes, quick return investment portfolio. That didn’t exactly turn out the way we’d hoped.

If there is any good that can come from this financial crash, I am hopeful that it is the return of a couple of old concepts – cash and carry and slow and steady.

When my parents passed on a few years ago, they left a house full of furniture, appliances and electronics. I’m not talking faded flora sofas, an avocado refrigerator or the old Hi-Fi record player. In my mother’s life-long quest to remain young at heart, she refused to let her lifestyle, or her home, date her. At eighty-plus years old, Mother still took every chance available to redecorate, rearrange and restock.

I was often the recipient of this or that piece of furniture or some small appliance, which she told my father I needed. Usually, it was indeed something I could use. The fact that my mother then purchased the new and improved version (or maybe just a different color) certainly didn’t negate her generosity and resulted in a houseful of some pretty good loot at the end of my parent’s days.

When that day arrived, being firmly ensconced in middle age with all the accompanying accoutrements, my siblings and I wanted little more than a few keepsake pieces. With six adult-on-their-own-children among us, we opened the house up to free shopping. Three floors of inventory was reduced by a few glass end tables, a bed frame and some small kitchen appliances.

Then came the estate sale. We couldn’t give the stuff away. Two, almost new 27” televisions finally sold for $10 a piece – to go in a cabin on the lake (this was long before anybody knew about the digital change to come). We did manage to give a computer away, just to save us the disposal fee.

I’m not trying to imply the stuff was worth a fortune. I was just shocked that there weren’t young people anxious, dare I say grateful, to find a kitchen table with four matching chairs for $25. They spend that much to go to a movie or have a manicure.

And then I got it. They can’t shop estate sales with a credit card – that little, magic piece of plastic that allows them to purchase a new kitchen set at three times the price, for the promise of making a payment less than half of what we were asking.

Except now, too many people are realizing they’ll be making that payment for the rest of their natural life-time. Or that all of their pre-tax dollars invested for fast growth, fat retirement accounts, might have been better kept in a simple (FDIC insured) savings account – or maybe used to pay cash for all their stuff.

So where is my bright side? First, there’s the satisfaction, of course. As a parent who never stopped nagging her kids about the dangers of accumulating credit card debt, I have the time honored privilege of saying “I told you so.”

Second, these financial challenges we face are forcing all of us, across generations, to take a look at what’s important in life.

We have to ask ourselves, is that bigger house with granite countertops and quarried-tile floors, an SUV or the latest electronic, virtual experience game worth the price owed in the end? Do my children or grandchildren really have to go to Disney World?

How about the simple pleasures of life? How about having time to spend with family? How about a day at the State or County Park (there are plenty to choose from around the Twin Ports area).

Instead of granite and tile – a weather worn picnic table and sand will do just fine. Let’s actually throw a ball, jump rope or just play tag, instead of exercising a joy-stick. As for Disney World, we saved, we went, we saw. In my opinion it’s overcrowded, overpriced and overrated.

As Dorothy discovered, if you can’t find happiness in your own back yard, you won’t find it Oz, or for that matter, Disney World, Shambala or anywhere else. And as we are all discovering in the aftermath of easy payment plans, the more you own, the more you owe and off to work you go, and go and go.

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