She told me that she was living in Rhode Island
somewhere, when a friend of hers moved to this area. Her friend gave her a call
and said "Guess what? When you go to the store, out here ? You don't have
to put on lipstick. You don't have to change clothes. You just stand up and go
."
Now, this woman had a bunch of kids. A few of them lived around here. One of them was having health problems, and she wanted to help. When she got the news from her friend, finding out what this place was like was the frosting on the cake. So she moved.
I had the pleasure of getting to know her, because I became friends with one of her kids. I got to know her grandchildren, as they played with my kids; as I worked on her daughter in exchange for childcare. Eventually, I worked on a whole bunch of people in her family, children, grandchildren, and her.
She's a magnificent person. It just goes to show that while you're wandering around in the world, passing by all kinds of people, there won't be any announcements if you pass by a particularly remarkable individual. You never know. So it's good to be open to the possibility.
After I got to know her, I realized that, despite having a whole bunch of really pretty devoted kids, it was just tough. To be in your 70s, have difficulty sleeping, to have to be careful where you ventured out, because you didn't want to fall, because you had structural problems. And sometimes, a whole lot of pain.
In my life, I've had a propensity for being worried and fearful, and slowly that woven into strength and an avid interest in learning the ropes. Of a lot of things. In the event that I find myself in that situation.
No matter how much I have relished relationships with people older than myself, always there is that part of me observing. Gathering information. Reflecting. To craft some sort of ability to handle that sort of thing, myself.
Over the years, she told me a lot about her life. Raising so many kids with not a whole lot of money. Working as a nurse. Working in school systems.
Raising all those kids. Kids my age. In that crazy time of the 70'.
She was and is crafting a present day life that often involves a degree of isolation. Knowing she needs to take such great care moving from her home down steps to her car, out in the world by herself, and then back home. So that often times, pretty much common sense dictates that , there is no going out in the winter. Sometimes, this is the way of it.
As the years pass, I took to scheduling her just before my lunch break. So that we would have time to sit , if she wanted , to just talk about things. With someone who was fine with whatever she chose.
To describe in detail what it was like a year after the death of a sibling. Of one of her kids. Of her dear best friend's death. Struggling to make a life with the friends she had left, who were not as remarkably reflective or contemplative as her dear friend was. As she is.
She would share with me all of her favorite reading material, since we are both complete library maniacs. We would talk and she would cry sometimes when grieving took a toll.
I would describe homeopathic remedies, and exactly how they would not take away the experience, nor the grieving, but would align her, so that it was productive, and got her somewhere new and strong and stable.
She told me stories about being the cook for an extremely wealthy person who had lots of staff.
About her continuing thoughts about growing older and how she felt about being the age she was now.
She warned me that despite how overwhelming increased vulnerability, inability and pain might be, to Mage sure not to develop a life where ALL you are doing is competing with others for taking endlessly and unproductively about your health problems. Your sorrows . Your losses. And instead , to share those and listen kindly to others, and then turn... and craft more life for yourself.
As we met, all the while, we formulated plans to be reviewed by an informed holistic doctor visit , to select a handful of the most important supplements ... that would be safely complementary with all her heart meds.
I would urged her to walk around her apartment four times a day for 15 minutes. Really. I would bug her and prod her and remind her of the balance she would retain and the muscular integrity she would build if she would simply do that.
And she learned to understand what was happening in sessions, so that when I became ill, and had to stop practicing, she took up regularly seeing the person who was the gracious new caretaker of my practice. As that person and my clients all wove new connections to each other.
On this day, I haven't spoken to her in a while. She's in her mid eighties, and I'm 63. Some times I hear from the practitioner or one of her kids about how she is. Simply makes me smile.
Because if there's one thing we learn as we grow older, it's how we are touched and changed by being in connection with others. In ways that remain and become a part of us, that shines and sings their tune.
Now, this woman had a bunch of kids. A few of them lived around here. One of them was having health problems, and she wanted to help. When she got the news from her friend, finding out what this place was like was the frosting on the cake. So she moved.
I had the pleasure of getting to know her, because I became friends with one of her kids. I got to know her grandchildren, as they played with my kids; as I worked on her daughter in exchange for childcare. Eventually, I worked on a whole bunch of people in her family, children, grandchildren, and her.
She's a magnificent person. It just goes to show that while you're wandering around in the world, passing by all kinds of people, there won't be any announcements if you pass by a particularly remarkable individual. You never know. So it's good to be open to the possibility.
After I got to know her, I realized that, despite having a whole bunch of really pretty devoted kids, it was just tough. To be in your 70s, have difficulty sleeping, to have to be careful where you ventured out, because you didn't want to fall, because you had structural problems. And sometimes, a whole lot of pain.
In my life, I've had a propensity for being worried and fearful, and slowly that woven into strength and an avid interest in learning the ropes. Of a lot of things. In the event that I find myself in that situation.
No matter how much I have relished relationships with people older than myself, always there is that part of me observing. Gathering information. Reflecting. To craft some sort of ability to handle that sort of thing, myself.
Over the years, she told me a lot about her life. Raising so many kids with not a whole lot of money. Working as a nurse. Working in school systems.
Raising all those kids. Kids my age. In that crazy time of the 70'.
She was and is crafting a present day life that often involves a degree of isolation. Knowing she needs to take such great care moving from her home down steps to her car, out in the world by herself, and then back home. So that often times, pretty much common sense dictates that , there is no going out in the winter. Sometimes, this is the way of it.
As the years pass, I took to scheduling her just before my lunch break. So that we would have time to sit , if she wanted , to just talk about things. With someone who was fine with whatever she chose.
To describe in detail what it was like a year after the death of a sibling. Of one of her kids. Of her dear best friend's death. Struggling to make a life with the friends she had left, who were not as remarkably reflective or contemplative as her dear friend was. As she is.
She would share with me all of her favorite reading material, since we are both complete library maniacs. We would talk and she would cry sometimes when grieving took a toll.
I would describe homeopathic remedies, and exactly how they would not take away the experience, nor the grieving, but would align her, so that it was productive, and got her somewhere new and strong and stable.
She told me stories about being the cook for an extremely wealthy person who had lots of staff.
About her continuing thoughts about growing older and how she felt about being the age she was now.
She warned me that despite how overwhelming increased vulnerability, inability and pain might be, to Mage sure not to develop a life where ALL you are doing is competing with others for taking endlessly and unproductively about your health problems. Your sorrows . Your losses. And instead , to share those and listen kindly to others, and then turn... and craft more life for yourself.
As we met, all the while, we formulated plans to be reviewed by an informed holistic doctor visit , to select a handful of the most important supplements ... that would be safely complementary with all her heart meds.
I would urged her to walk around her apartment four times a day for 15 minutes. Really. I would bug her and prod her and remind her of the balance she would retain and the muscular integrity she would build if she would simply do that.
And she learned to understand what was happening in sessions, so that when I became ill, and had to stop practicing, she took up regularly seeing the person who was the gracious new caretaker of my practice. As that person and my clients all wove new connections to each other.
On this day, I haven't spoken to her in a while. She's in her mid eighties, and I'm 63. Some times I hear from the practitioner or one of her kids about how she is. Simply makes me smile.
Because if there's one thing we learn as we grow older, it's how we are touched and changed by being in connection with others. In ways that remain and become a part of us, that shines and sings their tune.
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