Sunday, June 5, 2011

Granny Growing Up (Or maybe not)

An old friend of mine told me she was having trouble with her file cabinets. The trouble is there were too many of them. Her husband might leave her if she tried to squeeze in another file cabinet So, she is is purging her files. My file was one to go. It contained every bit of writng I had ever sent to her. 25 years of Christmas Cards! with "family letters" included. There were all those years of my life printed out on red or green paper. Did I know I was lucky.? Yes, I knew but I didn't know just how lucky until all those memories came back.

There it is all written out. The weeks, even months spent with family at Serene Lakes. Skiing, picnics, hiking, canoeing, skinny dipping, ice skating, making ice cream, jigsaws and games There was fun in the flatlands too. Tennis, folk dancing, Greek Dancing, there were the family trips: Oregon, Washington DC, Pensylvannia, the Tetons, Later Art History trips to Europe. trips to Europe, and trips to Hawaii to visit offspring. The weddings, the parent weekends. And then the grandchildren Watching them at Serene Lakes growing up in the same place just as their parents had. Mostly using the same stuff. Catching crayfish, turning the crank on the freezer, flying off the rope swing and then at last learning to drive in the parking lot. Also watching them grow and being priveledged to share in their many accomplishments.

The fun things are great memories but I have been heen there,done that. The difficult part of ageing for me is becoming irrelevant. Nobody escept the dog needs me. Nobody needs my advice. Nobody needs my help. Quite the opposite is true, I could not even finish this blog without consulting a grandchild. There is plenty to keep one busy. Volunteering, classes. friends, but nothing beats having a call at Thanksgiving to ask how to make mashed potatoes. I have a 91 year old friend who is active and busy most of the time. However, she says "we have all just lived too long. We are no longer necessary" I agree except I'm not really interested in the alternative.

I have a friend who belongs to a group that is studying how to transition to old age successfully I don't know if I am good at aging or not. I just know I can't seem to help it. I don't think that wishing to relive the good times past is quality ageing. I welcome advice. Ogden Nash says, "You are only young once, but you can stay immature indefinitely", Jerry Garcia says "we will survive"., Pete Seeger says "My get up and go has got up and went. But in spite of it al I'm able to grin and think of the places my get up has been" Jimmy Buffett says "I'm growing older but not up" my great, great great grandmother says "Life is like a summers day it seems so quickly past, Youth is the morning bright and gay, And if it is spent in wisdoms way, We meet old age without dismay, and death is sweet at last." So as I'm not spending a lot of time skiing or on the tennis court I have lots of time to search for wisdon I only hope I'll recognize it when I find it.

-Louise

My Dentistry through the Ages

My first dental memory is of proudly announcing that I was going to the dentist. However, pride soon turned to fear. Two girls, (much older than I) took it upon themselves to tell me the truth about dentists. All the pulling, needles, drilling, scraping and pain. So on my first trip to the dentist I began to have hysterics before I even opened my mouth. It worked. The dentist gave up and told my mother to go to a childrens dentist. The childrens dentist told me right off if I didn't behave I would get something much worse than dentistry. He was short, chubby and had a thick accent. I always think of him as Dr. "speet eet out".
I think I didn't go to the dentist again for a LONG time. After that I was old enough to go by myself. I think my dentist had a drinking problem or some very peculiar smelling mouth wash. I saw him a lot. I always managed to make my appointments just before something wonderful happened. My Birthday, a trip to the, ballet Christmas etc. That way I would be rewarded for my trip to the drilling man. The mystery was why after a trip to the dentist I had bloody sores on my leg. I used to dig my fingernails into my leg on the weird theory that if I could make it hurt enough I wouldn't mind the drill, Stupid! I should mention that at thie time I had begun my eight years of orthodonture which wasn't so bad except for the impressions. One had to stick ones mouth into a tray of tray of gooey gray cement and sit without moving for 20 minutes. GAG
So eventually I went to away to college. I arrived with 21 cavities. Or so the dentist said. My father believed he was a crook. He drilled and I suffered. Would this ever get better ? I graduated and came home to have my wisdom teeth out. I had them out one at a time sitting in the dentist chair. Ouch. then I had gum surgery. MY dentist was French. I understand he was a very important person and a leader in the French community and sometimes had his name in the society section of the newspaper. Needles had not improved and I truly believe he just didn't like me. Or possibly felt, in real life, he was above digging about in people's mouths.
My next dentist was a man who had grown up almost next door to me. He was very kind and hated to hurt me. Howver, he had huge hairy hands and to see him you might suupose he did all his dentisry manually, In order to work he practiced the "headlock" pulling your head over on his soft belly. After many years he retired and I have a new dentist . She is young, perky and very fast and has ALL kinds of new weapons of destruction. Almost painless but a lot more expensive than Dr. Speet eet out" And I still have almost all my teeth.

-Louise