Time goes by

It's been difficult writing lately. This has been one of those times when so many friends and coworkers are dealing with illness and death that I can't help but see mortality everywhere.

About half of the daily alerts on aging that come over my desk have to do with looking good. Creams and surgeries, excercises to make people look and, I suppose, feel younger.

Not so much about growing character and spirit or finding ways to deal with loss. The misproportion of information frustrates me.

Then I came across a blog, The Elder Storytelling Place. It's part of the Time Goes By: What It's Really Like to Grow Older weblog. I'm going to bookmark Time Goes By; it's wonderful.

Today's entry, A second chance at life, is by Georgie Bright Kunkel, who at 87 is still a freelance writer and stand-up comic.

Her story isn't a laughing matter, though she reminds us that at $10,000 or more a month for life in a skilled nursing center, we could all retire to the Ritz Hotel.

It's about considering that her life will soon likely be the life of a single woman. But now, though she and her husband spent their 59th anniversary in the emergency room and he is now being cared for at $10,000 a month, for the moment, they have some precious time together. And the grace to know how precious it is.

And so I cherish the time spent with my partner, as un-private as it may be in our present circumstance. Even if complete recovery may not be possible, we have been given a second chance at living and loving and we must make the most of it.

And so I bring the crossword puzzle to share with my husband every day. I play on the keyboard that our granddaughter loaned us so that my husband can enjoy all the songs we sang in the nineteen forties. I throw the beach ball to my husband so he can catch and throw in order to restore his waning coordination. We kiss each other and whisper sweet nothings into each other’s ears, even knowing the room is bugged for health monitoring purposes.

No way will I lose this opportunity to partner with my husband. . .We still have each other. I don’t want to consider the alternative just yet.

There is so much pain and loss. But there is so much more. Maybe age lets us see the two together, teaching us to love more what we have to love right now.