How Did I Get So Old?; Meditation What Holds Me Together; One Foot into Hell

CREATIVE WRITING

How Did I Get So Old?

Life feels like a roller coaster, the climb up is slow and pleasant, then, wow! All of a sudden you are flying down the other side! Today is my husband, Clint’s, 81st birthday. Yes, he was actually born on Halloween, 81 years ago. I will join him in the 81-year-old class in a few weeks.

How did this happen? How did we both get so old, so quickly? I honestly don’t know. On the day we were married, we were healthy and middle-aged. (Well, a bit past middle-aged, to be honest.) But we certainly didn’t think we’d soon be so old. The next thing we knew, we were in our 80s! There are some clues, I guess. Most of our friends are now old; our children are talking about retiring soon; and our grandchildren are starting to have children! We are no longer invited on ski and hiking trips, but have more family birthdays we are expected to remember. Our aches and pains are more frequent, but with the help of a few good physicians (whose names I can’t recall) and a handful of prescription pills each day, we get along pretty well. We no longer cook dinners for our friends, we just invite them to go out to eat with us. And while we eat, we compare our ailments. It sometimes takes hours at the restaurant!

After coffee, the first thing we do each day is check the calendar to see if we have anything scheduled for the day. A blank square on the calendar always brings a sigh of relief. No place to be, nothing to do. Those are the best kind of days for us. I have to make a list each day though, so I don’t forget the important stuff like getting dressed and taking our pills, at least before noon. Our aging minds just don’t function as well as when we were younger. We love seeing or hearing from our children and grandchildren, and grumble when that doesn’t happen often enough. We read the obituaries and note the number of people who have died in their 60s and 70s. We are glad to have made it through those decades, with pretty good health, but wonder if we will make it through our 80s. The odds are against us. In our younger years, we enjoyed a large garden each summer. Now we only raise blackberries and a few tomato plants on our two acres. We recently bought a couple of raised bed planters for the back porch so as to garden without bending over. We continue to make accommodations for our age. We’ve removed a bathtub and replaced it with a walk-in shower, and installed railings outside all steps. We recently had a visit from my 90-year-old cousin and her new 82-year-old boyfriend. They sat on the sofa, holding hands, and talked about several trips they are planning for the next few months. Bob still works part-time and Martha keeps busy sewing, crocheting, and volunteering at their church. I believe they are on to something! Both keeping busy AND planning for the future. A future that is not certain but a present filled with plans and activity. And isn’t that the best way for all of us to live, planning for the future, and enjoying as many things as possible today. Here’s to Bob and Martha! May their remaining days be filled with love and joy and fun activities. Marjorie Wilhelm is a creative writing participant at SourcePoint’s enrichment center. Written in October 2022.

Meditation

When my life is filled with stress And I can take no more, I close my eyes and visualize I’m standing on the shore. Seven miles of clean white sand, The ocean deep and clear. With palm trees swaying in the breeze I take my refuge here. The waves caress my body And soothe my weary soul, Cradled in the arms of nature, I am rocked with ebb and flow. Birdsong fills the tropic air, The sun shines on my face. My spirit is renewed once more Here in my favorite place. Donna Bingham is a creative writing participant at SourcePoint’s enrichment center.

What Holds Me Together

Glue, seams, pins, staples…. Some kind of structure? A job, a hobby, a vocation, a role… Some kind of purpose? A house or home, a community or town… Some kind of container? Family, friends, colleagues, neighbors…. Some kind of relationship? All of these are outside of me. They matter, all in different ways. Yet, there’s an inner core that must matter first. Without it, when the outside stuff changes, life feels like it unravels. Glue melts. Seams split. Pins and staples break. Jobs are demanding. Hobbies get stale. Houses require upkeep. Communities require action. Family and friends grow and move on. Neighbors feel like strangers. Roles shift over time. Where do they take me if my core is shaky? It can be a roller coaster of a ride. Emotions rise and fall with every elation and despair. Energy fluctuates between automatic and stalled. Focus intensifies and dissipates like a tropical storm. What’s holding me together? The answer is not a crumbling structure. The answer is not a baffling purpose. The answer is not a phantom container. The answer is not absent relationships. The answer involves my relationship with myself. This is where hope sprouts, like any growing edge, when it is nurtured. Acknowledging my emotions and respecting their causes. Recognizing and honoring my energy fluctuations. Focusing on what matters, not what aches. Remembering we all come from love and are worthy of love. Love holds me together. Gae Snyder is a creative writing participant at SourcePoint’s enrichment center.

One Foot into Hell

I search my soul for who I am, What I became and where I’ve been. Who I strive to be, to find my home, The direction I turned, the friendships I’ve known. The wrong turns I made throughout my life, The people I hurt beyond my spite. From childhood to manhood, I was forced to grow. In the jungles of hell, the devil had a tow. From the bush to the streets, I found my glitch, Helping or hurting the lines were squeamish. I worked hard to do good during my day, I lost a few souls along the way. In the fall of my life, I fell to evil, My life turned into upheaval. Things turned dark and meanness took over, Life was bleak and death seemed closer. In the darkness came life in my writings and art, The love of my wife gave me a restart. I concentrate on life and the beauty it gave, My happiness came visiting Christ at the grave. Although my art is depressed, my writing prevailed,

I was drawn away from depression and pulled out of hell. Charles Doeble is a creative writing participant at SourcePoint’s enrichment center.

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