We have a family event coming up that is always tedious. However, a conflict came up and we must be somewhere else. Yippee. I feel guilty because I am so happy to be able to avoid the first event.
A friend commiserates. Don't feel guilt, says she. This way you'll avoid feeling resentful if you go. So true.
Resentful versus guilty. Such a choice. But that is what friends are for.
The "begrudging", as the old Irish would say. I chose guilty.
Tuesday, May 31, 2016
Pariahs
Well. it has come to this. Zoey and I were out walking this morning and I stopped to chat with a neighbor I hadn't seen in awhile. Her wonderful husband, now deceased, famously called Zoey "half a cat'.
Down the street, heading toward us I spy a man in an orange shirt. I don't recognize him until I see his dog, Max. They see us at the same time and cross the street and head the other way.
We are now pariahs since the ill fated evening a week or so ago when Zoey, my "half a cat" dog nipped Max in the corner of his eye. Dear timid Max, a Havernese who always "loved" Zoey, according to his owners. Well, that relationship is down the drain !!
They used to be such good friends, Max's owner says, anthromorphising Max.
Do dogs really have friends? Maybe some do. Zoey doesn't care about dog friends. Only people.
I'm feeling paranoid.
How did I get such a dog in my old age??? A dog who has separation anxiety so badly she chewed through the screen on our porch when we left the house recently. So where did she go after a frenzy of screen-chewing? All the way to our front yard, sitting in the shade, waiting for us.
This is a dog no one else would have. A dog who is on Prozac and two other meds for anxiety.
How did I end up with this dog who is anti-social?? A dog that is such a predator my husband can't hold her leash when he walks her at night. What is she after, I ask. Rabbits, he says. Where, I ask. Everywhere, he says.
Yet she is loving and most of the time just ignores other dogs in neutral territory like the Arboretum or Botanical Gardens.
No one else would keep this dog but me.
Down the street, heading toward us I spy a man in an orange shirt. I don't recognize him until I see his dog, Max. They see us at the same time and cross the street and head the other way.
We are now pariahs since the ill fated evening a week or so ago when Zoey, my "half a cat" dog nipped Max in the corner of his eye. Dear timid Max, a Havernese who always "loved" Zoey, according to his owners. Well, that relationship is down the drain !!
They used to be such good friends, Max's owner says, anthromorphising Max.
Do dogs really have friends? Maybe some do. Zoey doesn't care about dog friends. Only people.
I'm feeling paranoid.
How did I get such a dog in my old age??? A dog who has separation anxiety so badly she chewed through the screen on our porch when we left the house recently. So where did she go after a frenzy of screen-chewing? All the way to our front yard, sitting in the shade, waiting for us.
This is a dog no one else would have. A dog who is on Prozac and two other meds for anxiety.
How did I end up with this dog who is anti-social?? A dog that is such a predator my husband can't hold her leash when he walks her at night. What is she after, I ask. Rabbits, he says. Where, I ask. Everywhere, he says.
Yet she is loving and most of the time just ignores other dogs in neutral territory like the Arboretum or Botanical Gardens.
No one else would keep this dog but me.
Thursday, May 19, 2016
My long winded neighbor
Since arriving back in Maryland, we have seen most of our neighbors, mainly from walks with Zoey. I like it that way. Short, cheery chats, maybe some gossip, nothing too onerous. Then I amble on, bye-bye, driven by my sniffing dog..
Today, of course, I spy the one neighbor who is relentlessly wordy. The one neighbor i don't have time to visit with. He is 90-ish and still seriously alert but at least this time didn't hold me hostage with one of his stories. He was gossipy and just funny enough. He's originally a New Englander. My wife Jen (says he)....her name is not Jennifer. She was born in Kentucky. They only named children with three letters there. J - E - N. Her mother, too, was named Jen. Just Jen.
He ambled on, assisted by his cane, a-sniffing out the highs and lows on the neighborhood, then my neighbor turned down the next street and I had to admire him - that's a mile walk he had undertaken.
Today, of course, I spy the one neighbor who is relentlessly wordy. The one neighbor i don't have time to visit with. He is 90-ish and still seriously alert but at least this time didn't hold me hostage with one of his stories. He was gossipy and just funny enough. He's originally a New Englander. My wife Jen (says he)....her name is not Jennifer. She was born in Kentucky. They only named children with three letters there. J - E - N. Her mother, too, was named Jen. Just Jen.
He ambled on, assisted by his cane, a-sniffing out the highs and lows on the neighborhood, then my neighbor turned down the next street and I had to admire him - that's a mile walk he had undertaken.
Monday, May 16, 2016
Elder shock
One of the experiences we haven't yet gotten used to, and we never will, is seeing our friends, relatives and neighbors die. Sure, they have died all along. But now they are our age or younger and they are dying. That is a severe shock. Death is real. It really is real.
The sadness that accompanies these deaths, the loss of these people forever is tinged with the existential fear of loss of self. I now think of that too much.
This past week we went back to the timeshare my parents purchased almost 40 years ago. All of our small family was there, a nice, cozy, comfortable feeling. We all could plunge back when we closed our eyes and remember the times when we were young, when life was endless, when the future was limitless. The place we go too is unchanged in many important ways and improved in other important ways. Wonderful memories. My sister's grandson, aged 9, cried when we left. His sister was sad, as were our grandchildren. It was a kid's idea of paradise. Maybe that's where we should all go when we die? Too bad we don't get a choice.
The sadness that accompanies these deaths, the loss of these people forever is tinged with the existential fear of loss of self. I now think of that too much.
This past week we went back to the timeshare my parents purchased almost 40 years ago. All of our small family was there, a nice, cozy, comfortable feeling. We all could plunge back when we closed our eyes and remember the times when we were young, when life was endless, when the future was limitless. The place we go too is unchanged in many important ways and improved in other important ways. Wonderful memories. My sister's grandson, aged 9, cried when we left. His sister was sad, as were our grandchildren. It was a kid's idea of paradise. Maybe that's where we should all go when we die? Too bad we don't get a choice.
Monday, May 9, 2016
May already!!
Carpe Diem....
It has been just about a month since we drove home uneventfully from Florida with Zoey and we haven't stopped running from day to day.
The mundane (home repairs), the necessary (dr appts) and the delightful (visits with family and friends) have crowded together.
This Mother's Day was especially enjoyable since we went down to our Bay cottage and combined eating on the deck with necessary upkeep and maintenance. Our son and his girlfriend brought a picnic lunch - home made and thoughtful. The weather was unusually Goldilocks perfect and the granddaughters went with me for a long bike ride to the next community where they have a playground on a long stretch of Bayside beach. We all attempted, unsuccessfully, to play Capture the Flag and left while it was still daylight. My husband thoughtfully cleaned up my beach bike for me - I've rarely used it and it has sat in the garage for years.
A very thoughtful gesture came from a neighbor - the second husband of a friend. This friend is younger than I by a dozen years, the daughter of a friend who was older by a dozen years. We've known each other forever. My friend has not had an easy life. Her first husband, still in his 20's, died of an auto accident when a car racing from a police chase crashed into his car which was stopped at a red light. My friend was pregnant with their second child at that time. Fortunately, her parents lived nearby and were a strong source of support until her mother died, maybe 20 years ago. Her father remarried shortly thereafter to her Mom's best friend (this happens often). Dad and new wife moved to a nearby state and all was well until my friend (he children now grown) met someone she decided to marry. Her father had objections - unreasonable ones - and has not spoken to my friend since. This is a source of great sadness to my friend.
Yesterday my friend and her new husband were alone at their home. My friend was still recovering from knee surgery (painful!) a month ago. I stopped off to say hi and her husband said he noticed the kid who was mowing our yard was doing a lousy job (he was). It's a ticklish situation. The young man who mows our yard seems to be the nicest kid in the world but rather slow. I'm overpaying him for a bad job because he lives with his grandmother and is still grieving for his grandfather who died last year. We don't live down there and it helps to have this kid and his grandmother who live near us kind of watch out for our place.
Our friend's husband said he would come over and weed wack our badly mown lawn. He did. I should have asked them to join us for our picnic or at least at least send some food over. I didn't, selfishly. We were just having too much fun as a family.
It gets worst, from my perspective. Our friend said he'd just mow our lawn for us, to let the other young man go since the boy now has finished high school and has a full time job. My friend's husband said he enjoys being outside, etc. I said I'd pay him. He said no. I don't like owing that big a debt to anyone. Neither does my husband. I'll think it over.
It has been just about a month since we drove home uneventfully from Florida with Zoey and we haven't stopped running from day to day.
The mundane (home repairs), the necessary (dr appts) and the delightful (visits with family and friends) have crowded together.
This Mother's Day was especially enjoyable since we went down to our Bay cottage and combined eating on the deck with necessary upkeep and maintenance. Our son and his girlfriend brought a picnic lunch - home made and thoughtful. The weather was unusually Goldilocks perfect and the granddaughters went with me for a long bike ride to the next community where they have a playground on a long stretch of Bayside beach. We all attempted, unsuccessfully, to play Capture the Flag and left while it was still daylight. My husband thoughtfully cleaned up my beach bike for me - I've rarely used it and it has sat in the garage for years.
A very thoughtful gesture came from a neighbor - the second husband of a friend. This friend is younger than I by a dozen years, the daughter of a friend who was older by a dozen years. We've known each other forever. My friend has not had an easy life. Her first husband, still in his 20's, died of an auto accident when a car racing from a police chase crashed into his car which was stopped at a red light. My friend was pregnant with their second child at that time. Fortunately, her parents lived nearby and were a strong source of support until her mother died, maybe 20 years ago. Her father remarried shortly thereafter to her Mom's best friend (this happens often). Dad and new wife moved to a nearby state and all was well until my friend (he children now grown) met someone she decided to marry. Her father had objections - unreasonable ones - and has not spoken to my friend since. This is a source of great sadness to my friend.
Yesterday my friend and her new husband were alone at their home. My friend was still recovering from knee surgery (painful!) a month ago. I stopped off to say hi and her husband said he noticed the kid who was mowing our yard was doing a lousy job (he was). It's a ticklish situation. The young man who mows our yard seems to be the nicest kid in the world but rather slow. I'm overpaying him for a bad job because he lives with his grandmother and is still grieving for his grandfather who died last year. We don't live down there and it helps to have this kid and his grandmother who live near us kind of watch out for our place.
Our friend's husband said he would come over and weed wack our badly mown lawn. He did. I should have asked them to join us for our picnic or at least at least send some food over. I didn't, selfishly. We were just having too much fun as a family.
It gets worst, from my perspective. Our friend said he'd just mow our lawn for us, to let the other young man go since the boy now has finished high school and has a full time job. My friend's husband said he enjoys being outside, etc. I said I'd pay him. He said no. I don't like owing that big a debt to anyone. Neither does my husband. I'll think it over.
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