Sometimes . . .

             Sometimes things just work out . . ..

 

            I was awakened by a loud bang outside. I went back to an uneasy sleep, got up about 6:30, and Kim came out of the bathroom saying we had a power failure, so don’t flush the toilets. Right. We lit candles and I took the flashlight outside to see if a tree had fallen on the house. Nope – all clear. After about a half hour of candles, we decided to go back to bed (yes, we put them out first). Kim went to sleep, but I was awake, listening to the wind. Then I heard a truck go by, heading down to the uninhabited end of our road. I got up and looked out the window to see a second truck. They parked about a hundred yards down the road, and I just knew it was the power company, fixing what was broken. About an hour later, everything came on, and I was overjoyed. I almost went out to thank the guys as they drove away.

 

            But here is the bonus: For two days I had been unable to watch regular television channels, probably because of some button I pushed on the remote. Probably something to do with the modem or router. But when the power came on, everything worked fine. Sometimes things just work out.

 

            Later this week, after I had my snow tires installed, a small light in my car’s dashboard was on, indicating low pressure in a tire. And sometimes the sensor was blinking. I took my car to the local auto mechanic, and he checked everything with some fancy electronic instruments and said there was a faulty sensor, and he would replace it with no charge for labor. We made an appointment for the next day. That day came, and the little light was off. The mechanic said it had fixed itself – as sometimes happens.

 

            I also learned that the cardboard snowflake decorations that I ordered from Amazon could not be returned, but I was given a refund anyway. I guess the $10 refund was less than it would cost to ship it back. We will give the snowflakes to a lucky member of our family.

 

            Also this week: I ordered a new credit card from our local Meijer store where we buy most of our groceries. We were to get a $40 credit the first time we used the card. There was, of course a deadline, and the card had not arrived in time, but there were instructions (“It’s as easy as 1-2-3”) about what the store could do to verify my identity and open the account. Except it didn’t work. A very helpful lady at the Help Desk spent about an hour on the phone, computer and cash register getting the issue straightened out. Somehow, we ended up with a $50 discount. We still have not received the credit card in the mail.

 

            Last week my wristwatch stopped working, no doubt because of a dead battery, which happens about once a year. I am waiting for it to fix itself, which will save me a long winter drive to the jeweler who sells and installs watch batteries. Meanwhile, I’m slowly getting used to not knowing what time it is, which isn’t all bad. UPDATE: Gave in and bought a battery. Got tired of looking at my empty wrist.

 

UPDATE: My tire pressure warning light went on again. Back to Lakeview Auto Repair . . ..

 

. . . and sometimes you have to make them work.

 

            So – how well does this “sometimes things just work out” function in the larger world of human relationships?

Under Control

            I just finished reading a publisher’s advance review copy of Everything’s Under Control, a delightful novel written by our classmate, Roger Mills. It will hit the market in paperback and e-book from Bancroft Press in late June 2026. The story concerns Luke, a retired trauma surgeon, living alone except for his beloved dog, AnnyBess (check out the story behind the name). Luke’s adult son and daughter ask him to move to an assisted living facility to keep an eye on his ex-wife, who lives there. The kids feel she is suffering from cognitive decline that leaves her vulnerable to a ruthless attorney who is scheming to hijack her estate.

 

            The plot, which has some surprising twists, is not, for me, the book’s main delight. It’s a character study, and I enjoy getting inside the mind of a guy my age – mainly, his attempts to keep everything under control, and then his success in redefining himself and his goals. Early in the book he is laid off from his full-time post-retirement job, a change that, along with the request that he move, makes him confront what his children see as the isolated and rather rigid bachelor life he has been living. The book explores his hard-fought effort to reclaim his life and his fractured family. It’s a book about second chances.

 

            There’s more. I am fascinated by the book’s portrayal of the way a trauma surgeon thinks – the appeal of being in charge of the O.R. and getting traumas under control. Luke has lost that position, and with it a chunk of his identity as he moves into a life that is not so much under his control. There are also some fascinating glimpses of the way attorneys can work a legal process, and, more importantly, how a fairly rigid and distant divorced father can connect with the children whom the divorce made distant.

 

            On a more personal note, it occurs to me that many people my age may be moving into a similarly rigid and isolated life. Perhaps we need to redefine our family connections. Let’s look for ways to redefine ourselves! No need to be rigid and distant . . ..

 

            The book is also a lot of fun. I really enjoyed all the reference to the music of the 60s and 70s – Matt and his son would work fragments of old song lyrics into their conversations. (I missed about half of them.) And I also enjoyed the relationship and conversations Luke had with his dog, whose responses were typically brief. The book is also sprinkled with brief quotations from poets and philosophers – showcasing the author’s liberal arts education.

  

Prayers

 

            I find myself again writing about something I know nothing about. And again, I’m not letting that ignorance stop me.

 

            Prayer. The first and most frequent prayer I’ve said is the one that begins, “Now I lay me down to sleep.” I said the prayer pretty much every night for about three or four years, as I recall. I do not recall being alarmed by reciting, “And if I die before I wake / I pray to God my soul to take,” a speculation that would not, I suspect, lead one to an easy sleep – adult or child. The most serious part of this prayer, for me, was the listing of people, mainly family, who I was asking God to bless. Usually they all made the cut, and I assume that the blessing that I asked God to deliver was, in fact, delivered.

 

            A prayer, then, is when a person is asking God to do something – in this case, to take my soul to Heaven if I should happen to die in my sleep. I’ve learned that some versions of the prayer ask for protection from dying in your sleep, but not my version. God, then, is some sort of Heavenly Father – a lot like a king or father who hears your request and has the power to grant it. “The Big Guy in the Sky” is one way that God was described, somewhat lightheartedly. William Blake, coming up with his own pantheon of gods, called Him “Nobodaddy.”

 

            But there is more to prayer than a request to a superpower. Last week I was speaking with my friend Don about some health concerns, and he said, “We are praying for you.” My response: “Thanks . . . I feel it.” And I did. I was, of course, feeling the warmth of friendship, but what else? Could it be that Don was projecting healing energy into the universe, and it reached Kim and me? Maybe that’s what prayer is – how it works . . .? Maybe the key, then, is to be sincere in projecting mental/spiritual energy (prayer), and then to be receptive to prayers directed your way.

 

            Google tells me that prayer is a way of communicating with a higher power. (I try not to be discouraged by the role the higher power of Artificial Intelligence might play in creating this definition.) I like the openness of “a higher power,” which makes me think of ways that I feel the universe is communicating with me. When we look at a divinely beautiful sunrise over Torch Lake, and we also notice that there are no appealing housing options in or around Traverse City, I feel that the universe is telling us to stay put. The universe tells us this without my asking through prayer, and without using God as an intermediary. And there are times when we see that sunrise, or when we are enjoying a candlelight conversation on our porch, and we know that our life is blessed – despite the pains and losses from growing old. (By the way, I like the word “growing” in the phrase “growing old.”) And I’m not much interested in who or what is doing the blessing. Blessed happens. 

 

            Receiving and perceiving a blessing is pretty much under our control. But how do you launch a blessing? The simplest way may be to ask God to do it: send Him a prayer, and He will find a way to deliver the blessing, probably with some sort of evaluation of the recipient. But I’m hoping there is a way to eliminate the middleMan and radiate the blessing through the universe to the recipient, much as Don did for Kim and me. Or maybe what I’m calling “the universe” is what others call God. Language falls short.

 

            I realize that this piece of writing is like the “Hail Mary” play in football, where success is almost impossible without some sort of divine assistance. I’ll take it . . ..

                                                         

Tools

             

            Kim and I have found ourselves more and more frustrated in dealing with computers and electronics. It may be our age, or perhaps a natural consequence of trying to use something complicated and unfamiliar. The worst, of course, comes when trying to converse with a robot on the other end of the “Help” line. (I used the f-word before hanging up on a robot.) Almost as bad: dealing with “Help” who does not speak or understand English.

 

            With these frustrations in mind, I think it’s important to recognize, honor and thank tools that are not computerized, or even electronic. Of course, I value my automatic car key, google and my GPS, but let’s not neglect simpler things:

 

suitcase wheels

It took a surprisingly long time to come up with wheels that make it easy to drag your suitcase through the airport (we got to the moon earlier), and I confess that I rarely walk through airports. Still, it’s a great invention: the wheel.

 

carrot scraper

I like this because peeling carrots is one of my kitchen jobs. And this versatile tool can also be used to peel potatoes and apples.

 

pencil sharpener

I now use ours about once a year, but think how often we used to use this device. Stop and think about how cool the workings are. I suspect they will soon disappear . . ..

 

combination padlock

I haven’t used ours in several years, but still . . .. I used to use one to lock my bike to a rack, but since I sold my bike in our garage sale (riding alongside US 31 too dangerous). Still, appreciate what is going on beneath the dial, with all those little pieces of metal.

 

jack-knife

I mainly use mine to help me open packages sealed in plastic, but it’s I feel manly just having one available – if not in my pocket, then in our car’s glove compartment or my desk drawer.

 

rake

Such a simple tool, and how effective, especially in the fall. And I was happy to learn that raking leaves is good exercise, so it counts as multi-tasking.

 

axe

I use mine about once a year to split firewood, or maybe dig out a troublesome root. I feel manly and capable when I use one, and, so far, I’ve not injured myself.

 

ice cream scoop

No comment needed. I love the way squeezing the lever dislodges the ice cream into my dish.

 

can opener

You know – squeeze to penetrate the lid, then twist the handle and the can rotates, opening as you go. I wonder how AI opens cans . . ..

 

jar lid opener

Actually, the metal piece with a triangle on one end, used in the past for opening cans. Kim has found a way to use it to open stubborn jar lids. Kim actually has over 50 kitchen tools, about 3 of which I know how to use.

 

broom

We don’t usually use a broom for indoor cleaning, but it’s effective brushing leaves and light snow from our porches and dislodging cobwebs. Alas, the broom is gradually being replaced by an electric blower . . ..

 

front door key

Good to have an actual key rather than a combination that I will probably forget. Of course, I’m just as likely to lose the key. But I like picturing what is going on behind the scenes in my door when I turn the key. And if I lose the key, I have a spare hidden in the garage, which I can access simply by pushing the right four buttons on the keypad . . ..

Savor

            I recently read Sanjay Gupta’s book, It Doesn’t Have to Hurt. He explores the causes and remedies for pain, both of which occur mainly in the brain. Among his well-researched suggestions, which he calls “Reset Strategies,” is “Savor moments and memories.” I would like to focus on that one, not as a way to ease pain, but simply as a good thing to do.

 

            Gupta conveniently divides savoring activities into three groups:

 

·      SAVOR THE PAST   We do this most often by looking at Kim’s photos, highlighting where we went and what we saw there, as well as where we lived: landscapes, back yards, living rooms, parks, etc. The point is to re-enjoy the past. It probably helps to share this savoring, possibly with the person who was with you, but also with anyone else. To do this, you need to focus on positive experiences, not your illness or your car accident five years ago.

 

·      SAVOR THE PRESENT   This is, I suspect, very close to what some people call “mindfulness.” For me, this happens most often when I’m eating – but it does not happen often enough. I have a habit of shoving Kim’s artfully prepared meals into my face, and I’m trying – not very successfully – to pay close attention to each bite. Savoring the present can also happen when going for a walk, where you are notcounting your steps or monitoring your pulse, but instead paying attention to the trees, clouds, stones, porches – whatever. Again, it helps to share what you are savoring – especially with the person who prepared your meal – but savoring also can work when you are going solo. Some people enjoy simply going to a favorite place and noticing what is going on there – sounds, smells, sights, etc. Stop thinking about your to-do list or the atrocities in the news, and focus on the Now.

 

·      SAVOR THE FUTURE   This might be the toughest of the three, especially when you are my age. I recall one of my college professor’s telling our class that the best part of a sexual experience might be the anticipation – walking up her front porch steps. So, we might try enjoying what we will be experiencing next week. Focus on the positive stuff. And try to anticipate what can be enjoyable in our longer-term future. This might sound a lot like planning, which is a good thing, but don’t let planning sidetrack us from savoring the anticipation. What do you anticipate enjoying? Save the planning for tomorrow. Get on those steps to her front porch . . ..

 

Gupta might have advised readers to marry Kim, because she is the vehicle that carries me to most of my savory experiences.

 

For those of you who don’t plan on savoring Gupta’s book, here are his 7 Reset Strategies:

 

1.     Mind your brain: Mindfulness, psychotherapy, hypnosis, self-hypnosis

2.     Befriend your body: Mind-body practices, myofascial release and other manual therapies, acupuncture

3.     Move more: Exercise, movement, yoga, tai chi, dance

4.     Sleep well: Relaxation and restorative sleep, developing habits that improve sleep

5.     Eat well: The pain-smart pantry, anti-inflammatory eating plans, gluten-free or other dietary considerations as needed

6.     Cultivate connection: Personal, social, and community relationships that support and strengthen a sense of connection

7.     Savor moments and memories: The power of your focused attention on positive experience

 

Enjoy . . ..

 

Alter Egos

 

            Lately I’ve spent a bit of my idle time thinking about who I’d want to be if I weren’t me. And since I’m geriatric, I think about who I wish I’d been. It’s all harmless speculation, but it probably reveals something about me – something that nobody else is interested in. Anyway, here’s my alter ego list:

 

Denzel Washington – It was impressive, especially in his early movies, watching his confident stride. Kim would sometimes see my hesitant slouching gait and ask me to walk like Denzel. I did a pretty good job of it, but only for about a dozen strides. Not sure how he is walking today.

 

Garrison Keillor – I’m not sure what he’s like in person and have never heard him perform, but he is my age, and I’ve long admired his humorous bi-weekly essays – though I don’t share his fundamentalist upbringing and never had a radio program. He is a welcome dose of sanity toward which I aspire.

 

Bruce Willis – I mean, of course, before the dementia. He simply had a zest for life that I admire, and he showed his joy. I tend to hold back. I seldom laugh, and Kim points out that I seldom smile unless we are talking about sex.

 

Hugh Grant – Forget his personal life. I would like to be the Hugh Grant his scriptwriters have created, with charming deadpan witty sarcasm.

 

Dad – Yes, I wish I could be my father, with his solid but somewhat distant warmth. If I were him, I would try to remedy that distance from his sons. In fact, why don’t I do that with my own sons . . .?

 

Horatio – He is, of course, Hamlet’s friend. He sees the ghost and poor Yorick, and he lives to tell Hamlet’s story. I would like to step more fully into the “friend” role, at the very least as a companion and witness, though I can do without the ghost and the skull.

 

Classmate – I am deeply moved to read the tributes my college buddies have posted on the death of our classmates. I’m not sure what they would/will say about me. So, what I think I’m saying is that the self I would like to have been is the kind of person who would earn such tributes. (And no, I am not asking for them here. Save them for my In Memoriam obituary.)

 

Mr. Fixit – Not me. This could be pretty much anyone on Kim’s side of the family. I did successfully unclog the toilet, and I fixed Kim’s phone by turning it off and then on, but that’s about it. O yes – and I set the clocks when Daylight Savings ended.

 

Guy on a White Horse – Shortly before she accepted my marriage proposal, Kim dreamed I was riding in on a white horse to rescue her – from what, I’m not sure. (She said Yes after two botched proposal attempts – but that’s another story.) Anyway, I’m still trying to live up to that dream . . ..

 

            You might have noticed that this is a male group. Sorry, but my imagination is too weak to feature a woman as my alter ego. Maybe Oprah . . .? 

Maintenance

 

            The approach of winter calls for preparation, most of which is pretty obvious.

 

·      Get the furnace checked.

 

·      Remove leaves and pine needles from the gutters – something I pay a guy to do as I no longer climb tall ladders.

 

·      Put screens in the garage and make sure storm windows are in place.

 

·      Get the leaves out of the window wells (not yet done).

 

·      Deal, somehow, with the abundant leaves in the gardens.

 

·      Drive orange rods into the ground in front of the garden near the driveway so gravel is not plowed into the flowers.

 

·      Stack firewood in a dry place (probably more for cozy evenings than for home heating).

 

·      Make sure the freezer and pantry are stocked in case we are snowed in.

 

·      Put snow tires on the car (probably can wait until December, though snow is in the forecast for Sunday).

 

·      Check phone numbers of friends who we might need for various kinds of support.

 

·      Make sure my snow boots, with cleats, are ready and waiting by the front door.

 

·      Locate heavy wool socks, mittens, and that great winter collar thing.

 

This is on top of regular maintenance. Deb, a builder who did a major remodel for us, gave us a booklet describing routine home maintenance. It was ten pages long.

 

            Several years ago, a teacher commented that after a certain age (she was maybe 50), much of our daily effort is devoted to personal maintenance. In this spirit, have you noticed how much human maintenance is required now that we are in our winter years? I’m talking about the vitamins and supplements that we take, the medical and dental appointments we need to make and keep, and the walks we are supposed to take (not easy in sleet or sub-zero temperatures, so do what we can now). Stretching. Drinking more water than you ever drank before. Staying out of the sun. Doing whatever we can to support our brains. (Isn’t it convenient that google came along just as my memory starts to go. Can’t remember the name of the city 15 miles north of where we live? J.F.G.I.

 

            And it might be a good time for a bit of relationship maintenance. Kim and I are going to be fairly isolated for a few months (not counting medical appointments), so it would be nice if we got along. And I need to do a better job with my telephone friends, and in responding to email from friends. We don’t expect a lot of company up here in the winter, so phone and email are important.