No, Roger is not aging in Pawtucket; he is aging on the streets of New York according to a recent essay "This Old Man" in The New Yorker(Feb17&24) This chatty personal ramble does what is done hardly at all about aging --it tells the truth.
Aging is agreat surprise he says, and that is my main expereince of it also. Of course, we all know that everyone gets old, but I did not guess how it would swoop down on me right on schedule and change every aspect of my life. I thought that after I retired from teaching, I would be just as I was before, enrgetic and busy, but not working for others--about my own business. Roger knows otherwise, and lists the losses in friends and loved ones-- even favorite doggy companions--gone.
What is not gone yet is this winter. I envy those who have made it down to Fort Myers to watch the Red Sox spring training. This frigid month I am making daily resolves to become a more regular attendee of the Pawtucket Red Sox games at McCoy stadium. It is one of the prime assets of the bucket, and every time I go to a game I have a great time. Last year there was no one who wanted to go with me. I need to cast my net wider, and see if I can interest some younger friends. Maybe do a little baby-sitting and plant the seed of baseball mania early in a few little hearts.
This Blog describes reactions that a woman who was born and raised in Pawtucket has when she returns to her native city after an absence of thirty years, recalls the sites of her childhood and registers the way she is affected by the changes and lack of changes that have taken place since her childhood.
Saturday, February 22, 2014
Monday, February 10, 2014
HOUSEBOUND IN THE BUCKET
On 12 December 2013 I somehow managed to tear my Achilles tendon as I stepped from the parking lot to the curb on my way to --wait for it-- therapy. I managed to crawl back to my car and with flashers on I drove home somehow. My husband had to help me up the steps to the house. And that was the last time that I went up or down those steps. I have been house bound through this cold and snowy winter.
I have finally gotten the good and welcome attention of the VNA and they have sent a wonderful physical therapist with an ultra sound machine to help me heal.
My body is getting a little better, but my spirit is a bit crushed . I have not seen my aunt since this happened and that leaves me feeling pretty low.
It is hard to stay in the same small house and even in the same chair all day every day. Yesterday two old friends came by with two great pizzas from Casserta's and a six pack of Narragansett beer. What a treat for me and my husband. We began watching the Olympics and Basketball games in earnest. Sometime during a lull in the Syracuse game, my friend mentioned that I had not blogged in a while. They thought I would be blogging every day with so much time on my hands. But I must confess I did not want to blog in a negative mood and I wanted the Pawtucket Bucket blog especially to be a positive take on the possibilities in this old but surprisingly various and vibrant community.
But the events of my own aging complicated by the demands of caregiving have caught up with me.
Today I managed to go outside and made it up and down the first step with the encouragement of the therapist. The cold and ice have delayed my ability to go out--the ground is still icy and snow covered.
Maybe I will try to use the blog for a few reviews of books I have read during this long retreat and the TV shows I have watched. I know many people are having an even tougher winter. Oil deliveries are too many and too costly--but at least we can still pay the bills. We do still have many blessings and things to be glad about. I will try to focus on the positives.
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