booksbysheilal

Back in 2024, I did a post titled: “Mary Jones: “Just because I love him!” In that post, Mary expressed her love for her husband, Carl, who had been dealing with Parkinson’s Disease for 15 years. “Carl tells such funny stories about his life,” Mary said. “I don’t want to think to myself: I wish I would have written that down!  So, I do! Someday my book about Carl will be published and I’ll call it: One for the Record Books. I can’t think of a better way to honor the love of my life!” Sadly, Carl passed away last year, but guess what? Mary followed through on her vow to note down the special things Carl said and did. Now, while her heart will always ache for him, the memories she captured during their years together cheer her up. Here she is with her priceless gift for Carl’s family and friends—a treasure trove of tributes for a man who was well-loved by many, especially Mary! 

Strolling around my mobile home park, I often admired a mural on a neighbor’s shed, thinking, I wonder who painted that? One day, that neighbor was outside. “I’ve always admired the mural on your shed,” I said. “Did you paint it?” She looked sheepish and said, “You’d never guess … it’s a shower curtain I ordered from Temu for $5, including shipping!” She escorted me up close and, indeed, the “mural” was a silky shower curtain! The minute I got home, I ordered one for my shed that only cost $9 (including shipping.) But … who would’ve guessed? When the shower curtain arrived, it was so beautiful I had to hang it in my house! I ordered a different one for outside ($13, including shipping.) I replaced the plastic hooks with more substantial ones from the Dollar Store and attached the curtain to my shed with metal siding hooks. Now, I love to hear, “Who would’ve guessed?” when I show off my “murals,” inside and out. 

One of the good fortunes of childhood is being lucky enough to have a cousin. Not quite a sibling but much more than a pal, cousins share their lineage by being sometimes “blessed” and sometimes “stuck” with one parent each, from the same family. My cousin, Elizabeth, is two months younger than me. As the family story goes: when our parents migrated to California from Arkansas and Oklahoma in 1945, they had a surprise for each other–Us! As cousins we share just enough genes to make us inseparable, but not enough to take each other for granted. Here you see Elizabeth and me last May at the Auburn Symphony. We didn’t prepare each other for what we wore. In fact, I wondered if my bright-colored blouse was a little “loud.” When Elizabeth stepped out in all her vibrancy, we just laughed. “Genetically bonded?” That’s us! By the way, the adorable “cousins” poster seen here was a gift to me from Elizabeth; for my birthday, of course!

First you hate it. Then you accept it. Then you come to depend on it.  So said a convict, referring to solitary confinement. Facing life as a single, senior woman, I wondered: Will eating alone, sleeping alone, and decorating only for me be like solitary confinement? It took a while, but gradually I’ve replaced feelings of isolation and loneliness with feelings of freedom and joy. My family members live far away, but I’ve found a surrogate family through my girlfriends. As I reach out, I meet more and more bright and caring senior women; some with partners and some without, but all with open hearts—ready to share decades of fascinating histories and ongoing creative ideas. I look forward to seeing their smiles and discussing our projects, sharing our wisdom, and laughing at the signs of aging we share. No, my life as a single, senior woman is definitely not solitary confinement. There may be only one name on my mailbox, but I have never felt more loved and less alone. 

If you’re like me, you’re looking in the rearview mirror a lot at this age—finally understanding the payoff of things that happened way back then. Take my 48 years of marriage (to four different husbands) for example. Having been married four times has been a real asset in several ways. For one, I’ve never wasted emotional energy being judgmental of others. Two, my complicated life has made me realize that, if heard from start to finish, my life story—and everyone else’s stories—make perfect sense. Looking back; assessing where we’ve been and why; realizing the surprising ways our experiences have paid off; and finding good reasons to feel proud of ourselves—these are steps to peace of mind younger people still search for. And we’re not at the end of our journeys yet. Our stories are still being written. There’s wisdom in the Al Anon slogan: Look in the rearview mirror, but don’t stare. Robert Frost also said it well: We’ve miles to go before we sleep.”

Sandy Kintz is a creative artist in several mediums, especially the art of friendship. After we visited our mutual friend, Karen, in a nursing home, Sandy’s creativity went to work. The numbers on the calendar were too small for Karen’s compromised vision to see from across the room. Several of us had shopped for a calendar with larger print and numbers, but this year’s calendar had disappeared from the shelves. Enter: Sandy Kintz, the artist. The day after our visit, Sandy texted me: “I came right home and made a calendar I think Karen will like.” Indeed! Sandy’s calendar is a work of art—and is the delightful focal point of Karen’s room. The day, month, and year are large and easily interchangeable. Now everyone, even Karen’s nursing attendants, rush to have the fun of turning yesterday into today, with the flip of a tiny clothes pin. When Sandy’s little light shines with a bright idea—as a friend or an artist—she’s on it. Lucky for us, she can’t stop herself! 

Yesterday, while on my walk, I met up with a senior neighbor-lady-friend, walking her pooch. That woman is so bright, so articulate, so impressive—even the decade of her age is impossible to guess. She’s made it through thick and thin! I thought. A perfect candidate for a “turning point” post! When I suggested it, she tried to hurry away. “The only one I tell my turning point stories to is my little dog,” she said. “I’ve made so many mistakes in my life, it’s embarrassing!” With that, she described one trauma after another—all “her own fault.” “But look at you today,” I insisted. “You’ve made it! How?” She looked at me, her eyes wide. “I did make it, didn’t I? I’ll have to give that some thought.” At our ages, it’s easy to focus on regrets. The turning point stories I want for Bright Ideas are the moments we jumped those hurdles and kept going. I’ll bet there are a bunch of little dogs out there who would love to hear those stories, too! Email me today. I’m waiting for your story.

If you look closely at a dandelion, you’ll see that each petal is actually hundreds of tiny, separate little flowers—flowers that fly in every direction with one puff of air. Linda Fazo and Pam Nelson believe in dandelions—only their wishes are always for someone else. “We were looking for volunteer stuff to do last December,” Pam said, “when we met Stephanie, founder of the local, non-profit organization, Silver Wishes (symbolized by a dandelion.) “As volunteers,” Linda added, “we invite people to nominate themselves or another senior to have a wish considered by the ‘Silver Wishes’ board. The wish can be a necessity, like a house repair or hearing aides, or something fun—like a manicure and haircut. Every wish granted is so heartwarming.” Thank you, Linda and Pam. I took you up on it and saw my friend’s happy smile as her wish came true. I’ll never look at dandelions the same again! Nominate yourself or another senior by going online at www.silverwishes.org or calling 916-287-7172.

In my world of senior women, I watch wives accompany their husbands to the doctor and stick with him through thick and thin…all with a loving smile. My widowed neighbor’s sister-in-law faithfully drives her to cancer treatments, week after week. Another senior friend transports her friend to macular treatments, sitting by the hour in the waiting room. Kudos to the friend who assumed the sad duties of  healthcare power of attorney, working to find a safe bed and keeping a close watch to make sure her friend is comfortable. In my mobile home community, women nurture everyone by organizing get-togethers: planning menus, cooking food, then cleaning up—simply for the joy of watching their neighbors and friends have fun.  In Gold Country Writers, women run the business meetings  then set tables at celebrations—all in a day’s work.      Witnessing senior women with so much generosity of spirit is a bonus of aging. As Mom would say: “Bless their hearts!!” 

People are often shy about admitting they need hearing aids. Wendy is the exception—she volunteered to share her story:    “I started noticing I couldn’t hear well, but I ignored it. Then, when people told me I was missing some of what was being said, I took notice. A free hearing test confirmed it: I became one of the lucky seniors who wear hearing aids. I say, ‘lucky,’ because modern hearing aids are almost invisible—yet so functional! True, it took some time to get used to hearing in a different way—and true, background noise can be a hindrance. Still, they’re amazing little gadgets. Batteries are no longer required. No more blasting the TV—it speaks into my ear. I can answer my phone in complete privacy. They’re even waterproof. From what I hear (so to speak,) part of our brain can go dormant if we avoid using hearing aids when we need them. Why would anyone risk that—and miss out on so much?” That’s a good question, Wendy!