The Saturday Morning Blogger – The Child Inside

James Barrington

When I was a child I hated visiting aged relatives in nursing homes. The places smelled like urine and death and the people were usually lost in their memories of a time sixty years ago. They seemed to see and talk with ghosts of people who were long dead. I often wondered why they continued to live.

As the years passed, I came to understand more about the aging process. My granddaughter recently made the observation to her mom (my daughter) “Does it ever strike you as strange that I’ve never known you as anything but ‘Mom’?” In a Town Meeting in New Hampshire a decade ago, a life-long resident in his late 60s or early 70s pointed out that the history of the town did not start when I arrived. Well, that was blatantly obvious, but it was a refreshing reminder to me from which I have learned a great deal.

Human lifetimes (even those that reach or exceed the century mark) are remarkably short in the span of eternity, even of the eight or ten thousand years when humans have been keeping records – some of which is still indecipherable to us. Yet we tend to think of history as beginning with our birth. Those who outlive us may think of us and things that are happening in this world that we did not live to witness. I suspect events on this earth will be largely immaterial to us once we cross the veil to the next (and true) reality.

These days, quickly approaching 65, I spend a lot of time visiting people in hospitals, rehabilitation centers, and assisted living homes. My perspective is different than it was when I was a child. The first point is that senior assisted facilities are cleaner and fresher than they were when I was a child. They are generally brighter and try to bring cheer to the residents’ lives. Having been through almost ten years with my mother in a clean and airy assisted living home, I paid more attention and learned to see her neighbors in a different light. With my dad gone, I had much more meaningful conversations with my mother and learned things about her childhood and life before I was born that I had never known. I even learned interesting facts about her life while I was in my early school days. It was refreshing to realize that parents are people too.

Our children and grandchildren have been raised to appreciate older generations and not be afraid of people just because their skin is wrinkled, their hair is gray, and maybe their teeth are missing. Generations need each other. They are links in a chain that stretched across years and lifetimes.

The Saturday Morning Blogger – Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Days of Summer?

James Barrington

I remember a song from my youth that said something like, “Those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer…” I guess I should admit to having more than my share of naps this summer, but it feels more like they are due to exhaustion than laziness. Maybe that’s just my take on things.

Almost as soon as school was out for the summer, we ran away to spend a week in Maine with our older daughter and her family. I came back from that more worn out than before I left – and I was CERTAIN that I NEEDED a vacation when we boarded the airplane. The events of that trip, although enjoyable with the kids and grandkids, were exhausting.

That was just the first week of the summer of 2017! We’re already talking about band practices, football season and school again! What’ with that?!?

I remember childhood summers (through the haze and fog of memory) spent reading “Tom Swift” books on the front porch. Of course my brother and I had to mow lawns to make money for the movies, but that was generally not more than one or two lawns a day in our lazy pace. This summer, it’s not like I have a lot to do, it just seems that everything on my calendar has a deadline!

I have been reading a lot this summer, but as the calendar pages are now flying by like the second hand on my watch used to, I find myself turning reading sessions into nap sessions more often than not. A recent slip-and-fall accident has slowed my walking. The heat has reduced my appetite. I’m not really complaining, although it may sound that way. What I’m trying to do is get my mind around this thing called aging. I know I’m not “OLD” yet, because I heard the other day, “Old is 20 years older than I am.” That sounds like a good philosophy to me. Most of the folks I visit in nursing homes talk about those old folks down the hall, never pondering the face that looks back from the mirror. That’s a good thing to my way of thinking. Who wants to be old? Mature? Experienced? We have a lot of euphemisms for “old.”

Although my August calendar is already filling up – and I hate to think what the school calendar may bring – I hope to get a few days to get away to the mountains, or the seacoast, or a hotel overlooking a lake – just for a few days. A nap while breathing mountain air or the sea’s salty air would be a refreshing change. I think a touch of change is one of the things that makes for an interesting vacation. I just like for the change to be at a pace I can manage these days.