This time last year, in the night I was keeping watch over my mom. It was a Tuesday night January 14th in 2025 and my mom had fallen asleep the previous Saturday afternoon for what my brother, sister in law, and I had thought was a nap. She had been in their guest room since December 26th of 2024, under hospice care.
My sister in law and I had washed and dried her hair and gotten her freshly cleaned up and in a clean flannel nightgown. She had a little food and then fell asleep. My brother and I tried to wake her several hours later for some supper but she didn’t fully wake up. She then slipped into an unconscious state and never woke up again.
On that Tuesday morning, the RN niece of my sister in law who had been coming several days a week since she had moved into hospice at my brother’s, told us that day would be hard one. It was not going to be long. My other brother arrived the day before because we had told him he needed to get there sooner than later. Hospice came that morning when we said they should also come sooner than later. They confirmed what we knew, it wasn’t going to be long.
I told the niece I would stay in her room that night on a cot we had set up. I didn’t sleep really. The electric air mattress on the hospital bed made noise with the breaths shallow as they were of my mother. Any movement or just the constant inflation, I became very aware of the mechanical sounds. I made sure mom was comfortable as we had been, using a suction to remove any secretions in her mouth. I would lay down for about 15-20 min at a time. As long as I heard the bed I knew she was still alive.
Remembering in about eight hours from now, will be when I fell asleep, to startle about 20 minutes later. Realizing there were no sounds. Checking her and knowing she was gone. Warm still to the touch, maybe it had been 5 minutes. Just holding her hand for a few minutes more before I got my brother and his wife.
The months after having to figure out how to do life not being mom’s point person, her life manager. Often thinking I needed to call and check on her, get by, take her something, to then be reminded she is gone. Many things have happened in these 12 months. Life continues. The first great grandchild born less than a month after Mom died. My own daughter will become a parent in a few months from now. My son is back in school and in a good relationship. I am looking at less than 2 years to retire and likely to move away. From the house that was my parents. Which I know is going to be harder than I already know it will be.
I miss my mom. Even with the missing we had to do for several years due to dementia. I miss my dad, too. All I know to do is live my life in all the ways that they encouraged. The first year anniversary of the firsts after she’s gone has arrived.
My sister in law sent me a message this morning asking what I was doing now today as I type this, the anniversary. “I don’t want you to be alone tomorrow”. Whatever that looked like. A murder she wrote marathon or whatever we needed to do. I came over tonight we ate, watched the first episode of the second season of a series we started watching last year together. We watched two silly Murder She Wrote before we both were ready to get some sleep. I am back in the room I spent so many nights in a year ago. It was incredibly kind of her to reach out to me. (My brother went out of town for a meeting and my other lives in Houston). I am supposed to go to a music event in the evening. I will get through this day. I have a trip coming next week, planned for a year. Lots of things to look forward to.
For today though I will remember. Be sad, be grateful. Miss my mom full on. Sink into come aparts if that’s what happens. In the hospital prior to bringing her home to hospice and I couldn’t help but cry at her poor bruised up face after her falls and she said “you don’t have to cry”. I will of course. I will allow myself some joy too. Because that’s exactly what Mom would want.
Goals are great. They are different for everyone. In recent years travel of all kinds has been one of mine. At the end of 2019 I had set a goal of 20 in 2020. Twenty states was what I had left to complete visits to all of the U.S. fifty. I had mapped out a plan, hotels booked, some flights made. We all know what happened in 2020 with Covid and shutdowns; friends and family told me it would be understandable if I couldn’t make that plan work. It wouldn’t be understandable to me however.
I made it work in spite of Covid, being careful, traveling on nearly empty planes, and crossed into my 50th, Maine, October 2020. I was there for sunrise at the lighthouse outside of Lubec for the spot where the sun comes up first in the country as I had planned.
New travel goals were then needed.
The first foreign country I visited was Mexico in the early 80s as a teenager on spring break with my high school best friend and her parents. We were at South Padre island in Texas and crossed over from Brownsville to Matamoros to shop . From that point to around 2010 I totalled 13 countries in those 30 years, counting my home country of the U.S. (countries visited apps allow for that so I go with it. Plus I like to count the individual UK countries like Wales etc as their own. The counter app I use has that. Those countries of the United Kingdom feel strongly they are individual much like Texas thinks it is its own “country” so I am going with that too).
Considering that according to the web, Americans at about 42% have never left this country. Approximately 19% have been to only one, 12% to 2, 15% to 3 or 4, 14% 5-9, and only 11% have been to 10 or more other countries. Currently 195 countries are recognized as the total in the world not counting the various territories, and some sovereign states. The average person visits 6 in their lifetime. To be considered well traveled is to have been to 15-20. While in thirty years I beat the average of 6, I wasn’t quite “well traveled” in that stat.
In 2016 I went to England and Scotland with my then college age twin children. I returned to England in 2018 and revisited Paris, which I had been to with family in 1983 at 19. From that return to international travel in 2016 in my own 50s ages to today in 2025 I have checked off 49 total countries. Since 2022, I have visited 34 countries for 49. In 2024 I visited 18 countries. Pretty sure that will be the record for most in a year!
I definitely made up those just 13 in 30 years by more than doubling in 3 years.
Forty-nine countries until today. Today checks the 50th country box.
I realize I can get a bit obsessed with these travel goals. Originally I was going to be in Portugal the week of Thanksgiving leaving on Wednesday night. That would have been the 5-0. Then the chance to go with my favorite travel company popped up for next year so I pivoted to make it a bigger trip. So what to do? I was committed to ending the year with 50 countries notched. Where could I go kind of quickly, ideally for a couple of nights as the year is coming to a close in a month. Fitting in an international spot was always going to be a squeeze here in the last months of the year. Something Central America ish might work. A country that accepts US currency, has the same electrical outlets, less than 5 hours for a flight? PANAMA for the win!
It was a wild travel day and I almost didn’t make the connection in Houston due to a luggage bin not latching and had to be high teched with duct tape. I kid you not, duct tape. That caused an hour delay. It cut it close from being 50 to sitting on 49 a little longer for this countries quest.
Thanking the travel gods, and my parents who would have loved the quest and seeing the world, and who did love seeing the countries they visited, I made the connection. Their favorite was Portugal and that will be special when I do make that trip.
My next goal is 65 by 65. I have 3 years and 4 months to get those 15. My wish list has 23 and counting with at least 4 on tap for next year. Reminiscent of my goal of 50 states, crossing 50 countries also feels like a big achievement. I can’t imagine not wanting to travel. It surprises me when someone I know doesn’t have a passport. I had to get a new one in 2023 for my travels in 2024, two years earlier than expiration. Didn’t have enough blank pages for all the visas and visits for a big trip planned. I was more than a little proud that while it wasn’t full it was too full to use for the travel coming. Now that passport that expires in 2033 is getting full. I might have to get a new well before its deadline!
As it has been Thanksgiving this past week, I am thankful for the ability to see the world. Visiting new places is a worthy goal I firmly believe. I love this by Mark Twain and I agree.
I love to hear different languages, some at this point in life I can be at the very least polite in Italian, French, and Spanish. The architecture, landscapes, cultures, all of it rearrange my own being somehow. I just know I am different for the good by being a traveler. By being curious, willing to make it happen, being “about the go” as my dad encouraged.
So here’s cheers to goals, especially those that bring new adventures! Now for those next 15 countries…
This year’s annual Thursday holiday has come and gone. It was my dad’s favorite, family, food, football. The classics of my life.
Then as an adult I spent some holidays with my parents over the years, and as most people seem to do, when they partner up or marry, the switch off of spending by holidays with theirs or yours gatherings come into play.
I don’t recall right off the top of my head the first Thanksgiving I wasn’t with my parents but I do now have the Thanksgiving that both of my own children were not with me. Where we weren’t in the same place. In 2020 was the first where I had just one of them and it was the first where I didn’t see both on their birthday which also was Thanksgiving day Thursday that year. First for my twins to not celebrate together on the day. My son was in Glasgow for a masters program. That was a double first miss.
With Thanksgiving being the 4th Thursday of November and falls between 22-28 their birthday will land there, happening 3 times since they were born and next is next year. Wonder if we will get to celebrate together then?
“Firsts” are their own forms of rites of passages. Of course, people growing up changes things and we know this but it still is an adjustment.
My Thanksgiving plans this year have shifted around a lot. My twins turned 30 this week and we pivoted to weekend celebrations of birthday. Yesterday I ended up going to one of my brother’s house with another brother whose wife is a midwife and she couldn’t come due to babies. Those babies don’t work around holidays! Other family situations had shifted so there were 4 of us. Probably the smallest gathering I have been part of in years. One of my brothers couple years back said we should look at spending time together around our birthdays, two of us are spring and one is fall. Because with all our children now between 20-30 holidays will be challenging. He’s not wrong. None of 3 of us had our 6 between us children with us. A stat that is strange when I realized it.
My son has a new girlfriend of a few months. My daughter is married. Both spent time with their person’s families. Both had good days. For that I am thankful this holiday week that’s about giving thanks. I am thankful for my brothers, my friends who also offer places to be should I have wanted to do that. I have gratitude for many people, places, things in my life. I am thankful for my parents who loved this holiday and the ones we spent with neighbors, family, and the family we choose. This Thanksgiving marks the first without my mother and begins some other firsts coming around her specifically. And while the past several years we couldn’t always have her outside her assisted living and memory care facilities due to her dementia, we still saw her. That also makes it somewhat feel off this year.
2026 is 34 days away. There will be more holidays, events, situations where pivots and patience are required. I will continue to count my blessings, remind myself to work on my attitude of gratitudes. It’s all part of this life. As my mom said of birthdays and growing old, it is better than the alternative; I will add to that with even when it comes with changes and adjustments along the way. Joy is indeed where we choose it.
“Looking forward” has several connotations for me. It can mean something actually looking forward to doing like a trip or an event or meeting with friends. It can be me focusing on what’s ahead versus what’s behind me, what has happened in the past.
At 61 I had begun to feel not that the best had already happened in my life but that I had been fortunate to have many “best” things already. While I have had heartbreaks of course in reflection there has been so much joy. Maybe that’s been enough.
Not to sound fatalistic but I had come to a point of thinking ok I have gotten this far and if it all was over soon it’s been a great run. And it has. My children will be 30 in two weeks. I raised them and been their only parent since they had just turned 9. They are good people and they love me but they don’t necessarily need me but that is ok. It is how it should be.
I have great friends and family I care about. There are trips I still want to and plan to take. I have a book I want to finish (I really do even when I haven’t been working on it).
I was however beginning to think is there anything else really to do or be?
Then the universe answered. A grandbaby is coming.
I have never been one of those parents who was living to be a grandparent. Much like my late parents who always said “we will love any children you have and be thrilled to be grandparents but we aren’t raising them”. It was clear they were going to be fine with their own lives if we didn’t bring grandkids. With 3 children one of us was bound to bring kids to the party. We each have two. My parents were delighted.
My mom was about to be 56 when my children the oldest of the grandkids were born. My dad was 59. My first of my children’s children is due in April next year. I will turn 62 the month before. My dad had almost 18 years with my children, my mom 29.
Now I am scrambling with the idea of how long will I get? I always said I wanted to get to a good 85 years old. That would get me 23 years with that baby girl. But now that I am looking forward I am greedy and want more! It does bother me that my obsessive numbers issue of fixating on them has me counting days years already. It’s how my brain works.
I have a bonus granddaughter born last May. To my bonus stepdaughter and her husband in the DFW area. I got to see that sweet girl last weekend and she’s adorable. I got to read a book to the almost 6 months old who gets a story read before bath time. One of my brothers became a grandparent back in February to a baby girl as well. We are all a little excited to say the least over the babies arriving.
I didn’t think I would be that person but now I am. My daughter and her wife’s baby girl already has 44 outfits of various sizes courtesy of me, her Queenie. I don’t know her name yet (wouldn’t put it here if I did actually) but I can’t wait to meet her. Read her stories. Bring the same lioness fierceness of love I have for my own children to this new little person. For as long as I get to.
Looking forward is a marvelous thing. A newer level of looking forward. Now I care more about other things like taking better care of myself things like that. Figuring a way to move closer to them.
It will all come as it is supposed to. For now I am trying not to buy one more darling baby outfit. I swear it started with one little chambray sun hat. The one I have gotten for my bonus granddaughter and my great niece.
See? How cute is that? Both baby girls already use theirs.
Anyway I am holding off. Until I get the name and monogram of course and then the life long preppy girl will be off to the shopping ordering races.
I read once that babies were the universe’s way of saying the world must go on. Something to that effect. My mom missed meeting her first great grand child by less than a month. She loved babies. I love the babies that I love not babies in general. But when I do, let’s just say I don’t look good in bright orange jumpsuits but I will throw hands if it comes to protecting them.
This little person who is the size of an avocado give or take, has given me so much to look forward to that I didn’t know I was waiting for. As connection is my life’s through line, another thread in the tapestry is in the weaving.
My almost 30 year old son was diagnosed with epilepsy in February 2011. The previous December on holiday in Santa Fe I missed what I soon realized were seizure episodes. Had I caught it he could have been treated before the seizures he had in my car when I picked him up from the school nurse. He had been experiencing symptoms that concerned him during that freshman school year. Being scared of something happening but not yet knowing what was happening to him. And then we knew.
He went seizure free for almost 3 years. Got his drivers license later than planned but got it and went about his high schools student business. Probably didn’t take care of himself as well as he should but it wasn’t until January 4 2014 in the middle of his senior year, that a seizure happened while he was driving and losing control of the car on a divide highway that it set him on a new phase of epilepsy meds and more frequent episodes. He hasn’t driven since that January. Luckily he really didn’t need to at his university.
He has had girlfriends throughout the years both before and after he quit driving for his and other safety. However it has always been my worry about who will be a person who loves my son and cares for him for him, the him that is not defined by epilepsy even as it as a chronic condition is not going away and does create barriers and impediments. Especially in a state that is not known for public transportation. Texas is no it trucks y’all.
As with many or most people, when we can think of people or things outside of ourselves we get to be better versions of ourselves, when we get to care for someone. That is my son who is at his core a gentle giant who respects females and has a lot of compassion for people who are different. Who have their own challenges. As a child losing a father when he had just turned 9, and then dealing with disease for 15 years that colors his daily life, he has been humbled. Add in there is is likely some spectrum issues some anxiety which hard to know which came first epilepsy or anxiety from the epilepsy and worrying about a seizure.
I have lost count of the calls from people when he has had a seizure, roommates, office mates, girlfriends, friends. Trips to ERs when a fall and hitting his head has occurred are the biggest concern. I have witnessed many and the resulting exhaustion and disorientation. He is not a small man, 6’7” and at least averaging 275 pounds he is the proverbial bigger they are the harder they fall scenario.
To be his mother and for that matter his sister, we have had to accept something difficult and that it is something catastrophic could happen due to his seizures. People with epilepsy are considered to have shorter life expectancy. As are larger taller people due to circulatory issues if they do get to older ages. When his phone is calling me I hold my breath. I have gotten that call from emergency personnel asking “are you related to G?”. Those are not fun calls.
Today was such a day. He called me late afternoon to report a call and banged up face and was going to the free standing ER close to his apartment. I live over an hour away and was glad to know his new girlfriend was going to take him. I told him to tell her thanks for me. He didn’t seem to think I needed to come in. Sounded ok. he updated me that he was clear no concussion and going to stay at her house tonight.
About 1045p I had another call from his phone and this time it was the girlfriend. She told me he had fallen down the stairs of her apartment building and might have hit his head. He had another seizure. Because he hit his head she asked if should take him to a close by hospital ER and I said yes. And that I would head there too.
I appreciated that she was very calmly and sound liked she had it together. He had told me about her last week when we had lunch and was excited about someone who has her own neuro divergent situation. He was hopeful about her in a way that was different than some he had met recently. Excited about going back to school this fall, and now a new budding relationship, as a mother I want to be hopeful for him. That this time good things are really happening because for the past 7 years since graduating college it has been a series of fits and starts both in career paths and relationships.
I did drive over to meet up with them. I met a bubbly in spite of the late hour young woman, she is about 6 years younger than my son. He was in better shape than I thought and I was glad to lay eyes on him. She was chatty and talked me through all that had happened. We were waiting on the next scan. She was going to run to her apartment to take care of her own medications. I told her that if she needed to go back home I could take him back with me so she could sleep and not miss work tomorrow. She said no that she didn’t want to leave him.
I could see her care for him in her eyes.
She came back with a blanket and pillow for my son. While she was gone I told my son that I can take him back out to the house with me if he wanted to rest up there and he said he would plan to stay with her as was their original plan. There would have been a time he would have said yes to that plan and wanted to come out to my house.
When she got back she told me she had been nervous to meet me. They are planning to come to a movie party I am having at my favorite historic theater this week. I told her in spite of the situation at least now the meet is over and all good. I think she was relieved.
As he was trying to rest with his eyes closed while we waited she whispered to me “he’s the sweetest man. You did good”. That he was one of the nicest guys she had been with.
I had arrived at midnight and it was now 130a. He went for a CT scan and I told her that when he got back I would likely plan to head home with an almost hour back and since things seemed to be stable. She was totally ok with that, she had been totally comfortable with his situation of course concerned but was handling it well. Like my son, I think she needs someone to focus on outside of herself. Wants to. Rises to the occasion when a person comes along to care about and for.
For the first time that I can remember I was fine to go. I didn’t have to be the person to help him through this. Moreover I was more than okay with this. I want that for him. I will never not worry about him, even if he didn’t have epilepsy, as I am fond of saying there is no touchdown dance when you have children. It will not matter how grown they are because they are always our children. Tonight someone else wanted to be that person, caretaker, and my son was good with that too. To know that he was in good hands, right where he wanted to be, with someone who wanted to be with him, well, it was a huge moment.
It is almost 3a, I heard from her on my drive that everything was clear bloodwork and scan and they would leave soon. I told her how much I appreciate her and thanked her for taking care of him.
I am going to bed tonight worrying less about my son than I have in a long time. He’s not alone, I don’t have to be the one to catch him all the time. Of course I am here if he needs me but for him to not fully need me tonight feels like a turning point. One we both need.
I probably didn’t have to go tonight to the ER but her concern with him hitting his head and falling downstairs was enough for me to know I needed to even if just for me to lay eyes on him. She and I needed to meet. (We are both Taylor Swift fans so we got to have a bonding moment).
Tonight I got to gladly pass the care torch. I can pick up the baton if that is necessary but I feel like it will be less and less. And that is how it should be.
As I ride home on a United flight after two weeks of adventures in 8 countries, and frankly with a glass of bubbles in hand, I am feeling sentimental.
As I have written before love of travel came from my dad first and foremost. I can still picture him in a train station in Europe, every train station we came across in fact back in 1983 when I was 19. He would look out at the trains and rails with a wistful happy smile of the possibilities of where those trains went. All of his close to 6’10” frame would be looking out, hands clasped behind his back.
This trip I went to Sweden for the first time, a place he had been and met a woman back in his army stationed days in France. Those early travel photos on slide film projected on our home screen were the gateway drug to a yearning to see the world that instilled in me early. Later it would be the travel photos of my parents together.
I connected in Frankfurt today and Germany was the first foreign country ever I visited on that family trip. Checking off Switzerland, France, Luxembourg, and toe tip into Italy with a visit to Chamonix.
I know I have been fortunate to travel, and with this trip 48 countries accumulated. With my new goal of 65 by 65 I am targeting, plotting, planning. So many places to see!
My mixed feelings are that my dad is not alive to come home and tell him. Or my mom who in the past few years I would share travel photos, knowing I could do so again in a next visit as dementia wouldn’t let her keep those stories or photos. My dad has been gone 12 years and I have been to many places since his death. I have to console myself with knowing, knowing deep in my soul, how much he would love that I kept his love of travel, and kept going seeing new places. I would be remiss if I didn’t give him credit for making so many of my travels possible with his financial planning that benefited me, my brothers, and our mom. I can’t think of a better way to spend money than on experiences versus things. I know he would approve of that!
The end of a trip brings a bit of melancholy for me, knowing neither of my parents are there anymore to share stories and photos. There isn’t anyone at home to share them with or to have been on the adventures together. I don’t know that there will be at some point either.
I also hear my mother’s words when she took her last big trip in 2014, to Italy when she was 74, returning to tell me she wished she had done big trips in her 60s. I was 50 when she said that and paid close attention, the goal of 65 by 65 is for many reasons. I would like to see all I want to see by then and anything else beyond is just icing on travel cakes.
On this trip I was with couples around her age then, some who said that it might be their last big trip. Knowing they have seen what they wanted to before they call it good is something to be glad for. For past couple of years I have been keenly aware that places I have been are likely one and done visits. Will it be possible to go to Egypt for example again? Or do I even want to? Thirty years ago I could have said “sure!” Now no. To have an experience, bless and release it, knowing there are more places I want to see and let’s face it clock is ticking, so that was probably the only visit is a level of maturity and wisdom. I get to be grateful for the opportunity and be able to move to the next one.
Don’t get me wrong I still firmly believe Paris and London are good ideas! Because you can jump to anywhere from those cities I love so stop overs coming and going that I can fit them in, yes please. I hope more of both in future. (Two such visits will happen this year in conjunction with other trips). I would jump at any chance to be in either city for even 24 hours.
The 8 countries of this trip, I can say I would return to Sweden or Poland if the need or opportunity was there but the others? It would have to be something really big. And that takes nothing from those places.
I can see travel pivots ahead. My much loved Airstream that has given me wonderful memories of trips is likely to be sold before the end of the year. I bought it almost 10 years ago, essentially called it home in an idyllic retro campground in the middle of Austin for a year and half. It has sat for over a year in storage. Never is that the plan to not be off some place in it and yet it happens. I think it is time to let it go and hope it gets new camping life for someone else. Other adventures have called me. Age plays a part too even when I know older women than me are out and about with theirs. The getting it ready before and after trips. The maintenance, insurance, storage costs. They could be for a nice hotel overlooking the Eiffel Tower!
Travel wisdom is kicking in. What do I want it to be and look like? How do I want to spend travel dollars? And when does big travel stop, focusing on the Littles of the next generation in my life and my adult children while I can.
Grateful, wistful, definitely tired, content, and wise. That’s how I travel home today.
My travel look in Lithuania, carry on luggage only of course
My version of the song On the Road Again is the aviation highway. After recovering from surgery end of May through mid July I took off for a Scandinavian adventure to check off the four capitals of first stop Copenhagen, then Oslo, Stockholm, and Helsinki. True to form I am adding in Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, and Poland. I mean they are just right there if I am going to be in the neighborhood. Will solo trek those 4 at the end of the tour.
I was convinced this would take me to 49 countries but counting multiple times I think it is actually 48 which I have to say my obsessive compulsive ordering is not pleased. I don’t know how I was messed up on the count. With a trip to Portugal end of year I expected to hit 50. I might have to wing to some Central American or Caribbean nation on a long weekend to achieve it instead. Does that sound as crazy as it looks typing it? We all gotta have goals and country counts and passport stamps are definitely mine. Stay tuned.
(Of course I have used multiple counting country apps to get accurate number).
I have a work colleague meeting me for the Scandinavia capitals tour which should make it more fun. I don’t mind going not knowing anyone but it will be nice end of day to debrief. I am used to solo end of days and my thoughts. I didn’t think this is where I would be at 61, doing solo trips but it is okay!
(Why is it I keep aging myself at 62 which isn’t for 9 more months? That magic number for work pension retirement feeling really enticing?)
Update- trip began and I don’t usually do trips with 50 people that utilizes buses for transport and groups needing sound boxes with earpieces for guides due to the size when doing city walks. But I have been pleasantly surprised by Trafalgar the company, the director on the trip and overall the people on the tour have been fine. Three cities down when we reached Stockholm today. Second of the long bus rides and the rest will be short jaunts and ferries.
Another update – I have reached the end of the adventure with flight out tomorrow. Eight countries, with their 8 capitals. Overnight ferry ship with cabin and a couple hours each way day trip ferry checked off for first time experiences. Three days of 3 more countries in the solo effort to see as much as possible.
It has been an epic journey.
DayTrip – picked up in Riga for a drive to Vilnius. Then next day to Warsaw. Both wonderful drivers and what a great way to see countryside and less expensive than renting a car, less time than dealing with trains.
Notes – each country has history associated with WW2 whether they fully participated or were threatened or taken over. To learn that allies were determined to get to Denmark before Russia to free them and did so with a couple hours to spare was incredible. Otherwise they would have been another victim to communist soviet blocks. Not that I needed the reminder because I paid attention in history class, Nazis = still and always terrible. Russians = also always and currently terrible and a present real threat. I haven’t been this close to Russian borders before. Warsaw was over 80% destroyed by Hitler’s plans. The city rebuilt their old town and other places to their pre war glory and you wouldn’t know if you didn’t know. They utilized the rubble bricks for example.
I learned so much about each country and their people. Which is a large part of why I travel. It is hard to come home to people who are willfully ignorant and hateful. Yes there are awful people everywhere but the difference is they have centuries of history and overcoming the worst atrocities. The U.S. is not quite 250 years old. We are toddlers in comparison as a civilization in a world of “adult” aged nations.
Now to head home, regroup, plot and plan for future travel. Oh and get some work in too!
I read a quote today that fits in nicely with the in between time I have been for over 5 weeks.
“I lived in the meantime like it was the main event, and that changed everything.” My friend and retreat leader Tania of Advivum shared this today.
I have been thinking of this period of time as liminality, which in Google search AI overview comes up with
“Liminal space refers to a transitional space or state of being, often characterized by ambiguity and uncertainty, existing between one defined place or condition and the next. It’s a threshold, a moment of in-betweenness that can be both physically and psychologically experienced.” Being 61 is midlife so there’s a transition and liminal space just by getting the luck of aging.
I had surgery end of May, and surgery is an interesting potentially risky proposition at any time though I wasn’t going in for life saving care as much as vanity and correction. All good but the recovery is hampering with its weight lift limits, discomfort and pain (which overall was minimal and real pain gone within two weeks or less).
I’m no stranger to surgery elective or otherwise. I have friends who want some cosmetic things done but fear surgery. I thought about that a lot and why it doesn’t bother me. I came up with that my first big surgery was open heart at 19. (first actual was the seems like rite of high school passage of wisdom teeth removal).
While I was in my second year of college it was discovered that I didn’t just have a heart murmur I had a hole in my heart. More specifically again AI help here:
“Patent Ductus Arteriosus (PDA) is a heart condition where a blood vessel called the ductus arteriosus, which normally closes shortly after birth, remains open. This causes an abnormal flow of blood between two major arteries, the pulmonary artery and the aorta. In a normal fetal heart, the ductus arteriosus allows blood to bypass the lungs, as the fetus receives oxygen from the mother. After birth, the ductus arteriosus usually closes naturally, but in some cases, it remains open, leading to PDA.”
What was happening to me was that it never closed as a newborn. I went 19 years with this blood not bypassing the lungs. This resulted in my heart working harder all those years which led to more fatigue overall and stress on my body.
I have a scar about 10 inches long along my back at the rib cage where they went in to repair it all those years ago. It is covered by bras and bathing suits and is very faint now. My biggest concern as a vain 19 year old was a scar down my chest. Not my life being saved of course! I found out after testing prior to the procedure that it was good to be doing it when we did that December after Christmas because another 6 months I might not have survived. I have a metal clamp in place all these years now so no MRIs for me ever!
All that background is to say surgeries don’t scare me. When you have to get heart surgery before 20 years old anything else doesn’t feel like a big deal. Even though of course they all have risks.
There is that liminal meantime following a surgery that you just have to be a patient patient and get through it. It’s stillness and immobility that stops everything for a time. The longest recovery I had was 10 weeks following bunionectomy and hammer toe repair a couple of years ago. I am so glad I did that and wish I had gone ahead to do both feet at once no matter how challenging the recovery as I am not eager to do that again with the other foot.
I always think I am going to be more productive during this time home. As productive as can when have limited mobility or stamina. I think I will write a lot on the book proposal in process and clean out drawers or any number of easy chores. Instead I have been immersed in French television series (hit me up if you want recommendations as I love French and all matter of other European foreign language shows with subtitles) because I have been immersed in Duolingo French lessons since late May for a trip in the fall. I have been reading and listening to audiobooks. I have gone through my closet as my clothing sizes have changed in the last year with weight loss and now the surgery breast and upper arm lifts.
I am fully living in “the meantime” and it is the main event. It is the only event going on. That is every day actually not just while I am in a space between working that was super busy and then going back next week to super busy. It has been a forced pause but I have gotten to spend time on my back patio with the new awning and furniture. The pause itself is just as important as what is or isn’t done during the time. I have had a lot of time to think. I have recognized that this job doesn’t hold the same value for me as it used to. My plan of staying through end of next year and retiring seems more solid. If I could choose to not go back right now I would, but I have to stay through a period of time next year for the retirement benefits. But the importance to me of the knowing I am getting ready is huge. That I am ok with sailing off of this job, at that point after 27 years. That was a good thing to feel and know.
Liminal spaces, the meantime or in between times, are big even when they feel hard or uncertain because they are the transitional place, even if a pause. We all need a pause. We all need to be able to just stop, think, listen, especially when stopping the noise enough to listen to ourselves.
I know I am all over the place in this post but another transition and noise is in my background. The Texas floods and rains didn’t miss my hill country house last weekend. Saturday morning a surge of water must have come under my back doors into my living room and bedroom. I have nothing like the catastrophic situations going on less than 2 hours drive from me. But it did soak sections of carpet and a water damage team came out Sunday so now I have baseboards taken off, carpet padding removed, giant industrial fans, dehumidifiers, and a hepa filter going on from Sunday through Thursday. Then will have to get a restoration service in to replace the pads, reinstall the carpet and baseboards. Again my situation is nothing in comparison but costly and frustrating. It is so loud in my house I have moved into a guest room so that the noise is a lower constant white noise in the background.
Talk about transition periods. They are literally all around and in me right now. I am not a patient person by nature. Liminal and meantime spaces have taught me a lot over the years even if it was by a forced pause. Most importantly that anytime we are in something fast paced, forced or otherwise kinds of pauses, all of it is the main event.
The reminder of the importance of being present. The hill country devastations and loss of life this past weekend shouldn’t have to remind us that all days of our lives are the main event. Day to day we are in a transition of some sort. From here to there in a car even as simple as that. Our days are spent in many moments of sometimes long or short transitions or in between times.
I believe that the longer times like I am in now are not something to fret over but to sink into. In busy day to day life any pause is an opportunity no matter how it comes to us. Our lives are much like a super highway always going into the next thing even we are not driving the car. We are the main event. I like that.
It’s been a mixed bag of feelings since 2005. That was the first June nod to dads that was rough. It was the first one my children’s father was missed having died the December before following a car accident.
My own father was still alive and that made it still feel like celebrating dads but with that tinge of sadness and grief. One my 9 year old children couldn’t fully appreciate at their young age and that I knew as they got older this day would be an annual reminder of their loss. The loss is daily of course but as in how Mother’s Day can be complicated so is this.
My dad died on of all things an actual Father’s Day Sunday, June 16, 2013, and doing the math that will be 12 years tomorrow. Twenty of this June Sunday without Ray and twelve without my dad is a lot of loss reminders. My children were very close to my dad especially after theirs died. At 17 they understood the impact of that Father’s Day loss even more.
It is also the first one for my step son in law from my last marriage with he and my bonus daughter having their own baby girl arrive end of May. I sent a text to my wasband the newly minted grandfather dad’s day wishes. My BFW Lori has a new grandson, my 6th adjacent grand born yesterday making her son in law a truly one day new dad.
My son is at my house this weekend hanging out with me during my surgery recovery and my daughter is at her in-laws house this weekend. Her father in law is a great guy. My children have been without their dad longer than they had him, I am not sure today pulls the same punches it might or use to. It is just what it is.
I have been reading Melinda French Gates book The Next Day. In it she wrote about her own parents who were in town for her talk I attended recently at my favorite theater in Austin. She wrote about how her dad supported her in ways that my dad did and that I am not sure was the norm or maybe we were the wave of females who were in that window of school age 1970- early 80s whose fathers began to think of their daughters as having opportunities that had been previously just impressed upon sons. Her words resonated with me of how her dad along with her mom raised her to be the person she is and be able to create her own life in many ways, married and not. Her parents were much like mine in the idea of raising children to grow up, make decisions, thrive and fail, and start over again.
I spend a lot of time grateful in reflection of the dad I had, the parents I had, especially as today is 5 months since my mom passel away. These notations on the calendars for May and June to single out parents in thanks will never be the same for me. I know they can be full of complicated emotions both sorrows and joys for many. So I will be grateful for the fathers loved and lost, be delighted for the new ones of only a few days or weeks.
No matter how or what it looked like we were all “fathered” by someone somehow. I think of what that might look like for my future grandchild of my daughter and her wife. Father figures can come in all forms, many people have never known their biological fathers for all sorts of reasons. Likely my dad impacted my children more than their father did since they had just turned 9 when he was suddenly gone. They had many dads around with friends, my brothers, and my dad. In an ideal world we all would have had wonderful fathers present well into our adulthoods. But the world isn’t ideal for anyone. We do the best we can.
Here’s to dads however we have them that help us become the people we become.
My dad with my twins probably around their first Father’s Day and one of my favorite photos of themDad and I long ago in ruidoso nm 1993 maybe The twins and their dad ❤️
Life is hard enough without the world around us being absolutely bonkers as I feel it is on a national and state level. But I want to focus on things I can control today. Long post ahead!
Last year in February I made a decision to start back with Weight Watchers and use their clinic resource to go the GLP route for weight loss help. Hormones age habits all the things have contributed to weight gains in last 10 years that have hampered me in many ways. I am a believer that we do things to improve our lives for ourselves first. We can’t lose weight make better choices for anyone else but for us. If I want to look and feel better it has to be for me and not to be pleasing to others. But I hadn’t been pleasing this customer, me. It was time with my 60th birthday looming to make a big big change.
Having had success years before with WW points program and being nervous to jump on the GLP weight loss bandwagon I wanted to find a program that I felt worked both sides of the process. The support clinic side of it and eating. I didn’t want to the side effects I heard about and I wanted clinical support to help. My own GP wasn’t that helpful. So in March after I got back from a big trip I gifted myself I started the program in March.
Current WW app reflects that I did go back into the program in January 2016 doing the points system. I weighed 232 when I tried again and I was trying to get back to my long ago 170 set by WW years before. Which I did achieve in the 90s by losing 40 pounds and becoming a life member. I was also in my 30s not 50s and it does matter.
Between 2016-2022 and some long stretches of consistent WW tracking and then not so much the lowest I ever got to was 193.3 and mostly I stayed in the 205-225 ranges. This was with working out to varying degrees. Anyone who has attempted weight loss knows how disappointing the scale can be when you’ve thought you’ve done everything right that week. I eventually was up to 230 when the tracking stopped in May 2022.
I had done the NOOM app program beginning of 2020 with a little success and then well we all know the cliff the world fell off after March that year.
Now that I have you going is this post going to have actual Ws? Yes it is. But sometimes they are hard won.
I went into this effort determined to see it through no matter how long it took. My health going into my 60s is too important. My mom’s dementia being vascular creates personal concerns over hypertension. I have too much to do. That trip around the world Feb-Mar 3 months after extensive bunion and hammertoe repair surgery showed me I have to get it in gear to do the things I want. I managed on the trip and I weighed before I left knowing I wasn’t going to start injections till after because I didn’t want to start an unknown on such a big trip.
When I got back to start WW I had lost 6 from the trip. Machu Picchu and long trekking around the world for the win! At 226 I started. By March 28 and my 60th birthday weekend I was down another 8. Below 220 before 60th was a W! It had been 5 years since below 220.
Weight bobbled a bit for a couple of weeks but went consistently in the 210-220 ranges till the first of June when I finally broke through the 200-210s. It was August when I broke the 200 ceiling at 198. I cried. 2016 was the last time I was under 200. W!
At 5’10” I can carry a lot of weight and people can’t see that it is as much as it is. But I can every time I got out of the shower in particular. We are own worst enemy of course. But I want to be around for my grown kids and then maybe theirs and my current adjacent grands and more travel and time with friends. And who knows maybe love and companionship again.
Another W came staying in the 190s through December. Being below 200 was a huge mental hurdle as well as physical. The 190 on December 23rd signified 42 pounds down since February at about 5 lbs a month. I think it became somewhat noticeable to others in June of last year. My face will show it first.
From December 24th of last year to today June 9th I have stayed in the 180s. That alone is one of the biggest Wins of this whole thing. I heard a long time ago with every 10 or so pounds you can lose a clothing size and that has never been true for me. I feel like height and build factor into that, but to finally be in a 12 after so long is beyond. For these 6 months I have been ok being in mainly the 180-185 range. I have learned patience and acceptance of the scale adjustments that are due to so many factors from day to day. How I feel in clothes matters. Let’s face it at now 61 I am not trying to win a bikini contest I don’t want to hate myself in the mirror. There was a time I could have won one actually which probably makes it worse mentally.
At my 61st this year I was around 183 average. The app dating to 2016 doesn’t have any 180s. A W!
I began to be ok if age and all the other factors won’t let me get to 170s and that old goal weight of 170. When I started this I set it for 175 thinking it is a total stretch goal. I know I was in the 160s in 2012 when I had gotten remarried and then got “fat and happy” for several years that put me in this position along with hello menopause.
As I have lost weight and I am in my 60s now, loose skin has come into play. The fun bingo arms as a friend called them got way worse. My mom had wanted an arm lift and had gotten to never wearing anything shorter than 3/4 sleeve shirts. Genetics was not going g to be my friend here. I had a consult about an arm lift and breast lift to be done at same time, take out 10 year implants for something smaller or none if possible. (My surgeon was funny and said “Molly you’re in your 60s not 80s you’re going to care if there’s nothing there”. He was right and I went with implants that are enough to be something but not too much).
My arms have bothered me with weight fluctuations for awhile now. I miss yoga classes because I don’t want my arms waving when I am supposed to be still in warrior poses. I won’t do in my house solo because I see them. It was another reminder of aging I didn’t like. So I did it end of last month the arm life and breasts. Recovery is interesting with keeping arms like a T Rex close and small and no overhead movements for a couple weeks.
I haven’t been weighing much since surgery I knew swelling etc might not give a good picture of things. I was 183 about a week before. When I got to take a full shower last week I weighed after. I am a full naked first thing in morning scale stepper when I choose to weigh. 181.2 was good to see. I knew the arms and less boob action could account for a pound or two. All Ws and the results are healing and I look forward to not only yoga but short or no sleeves. Texas summers are hot y’all. My later mother wanted to do those arms and then felt like time got past her. She’d be thrilled for me.
Today I thought what the heck let’s get a weight. It’s time to request a refill for Zepbound so I need a current number.
177.8 🤩
I have gone below 180 for the first time in maybe 10 years? Maybe more?
MAJOR W people.
As I have learned I could bounce back up to 180s but I broke a ceiling here, a plateau of 6 months.
In this year and almost a half of attempting to get to 175 I am almost there. More importantly I have learned a lot about myself. How to be more patient, to accept the little bumps in the scale along the way, to keep at it. Yes medication has helped. Honestly I couldn’t have done it without it because I sure have tried. I have changed eating habits and better portion control because of it. I have changed my wardrobe over time and for the first time in years I feel really good and confident for myself first and foremost when I get dressed. With the surgeries complete I do have some sleeveless and short sleeve items to look forward to.
Yes I have good insurance and have had some financial options I know are not always available for others. Some inheritance dollars paid for surgery (thanks Mom!). I know I am fortunate. I have excellent exercise equipment in my house that has been mocking me to look forward to after recovery to take my health to next levels of fitness.
I don’t have a partner, my children are grown people. Anything I do has to be for me and wanting me to be ok in ways I need to be. I have to live with me.
For those curious the WW clinic program will take into account medical history insurance all information to try and find a Rx that works for you and your insurance. It does cost an additional fee for the clinical part of Weight Watchers. Full transparency here, mine turned out to be Zepbound. With the Lilly copay card 24.99 a month. All that I took as a good sign to move forward. They start you at a low dose and increase after a couple of months or so and you have to put in information like blood pressure and other things when requesting refill. The clinicians can make changes and they want any side effects. My only one this whole time has been constipation which I have had to manage with more water and over the counter helpers like stool softeners. Not all months went smoothly trying to get medication as well. Had to pivot to a local compounding pharmacy with my doctor’s help who was actually impressed with the WW and the progress made to write the Rx. Then supply got back and I found another pharmacy that has been consistently stocked.
Has it all been easy? No. I have found additional success with less drinking for empty calories through the Sunnyside app which a friend told me about in 2023 and I started then. An alcoholic beverage tracker that just going free for 6 weeks helped me lose inches at least to fit better in a dress for my daughter’s wedding that summer. It tracks how many better nights sleep, money and calories saved. I wasn’t a heavy drinker but I had found I wasn’t thinking about it enough. There are studies saying the GLP-1 medications affect the desire to drink and could help those with serious alcohol issues.
Today is a W in my little part of this world. I am recovering from surgery at home, have had good help. I am closer to the goal I set early last year for my health. I am being intentional in ways that are important for me. And for the first time in I can’t even begin to tell you I put on a pair of shorts I ordered to enjoy the back patio this morning. I don’t like my legs, they use to be really great. I hope to get them in a state of toning after I recovery that they annoy me less, I mean they do their job right? I can walk and move so that’s all great. But I missed shorts. Especially jean shorts. J. Crew has been a go to for me for years (great sales and the factory site or store is event better).
I recently again thanks to inheritance was able to get the homestead repainted that was my parents’ home now mine I bought from my brothers. Add and awning and some new color and patio furniture to enjoy the space. It’s a good spot to recover.
Cut offs for the W
Whatever your own Ws may be big or small w, celebrate them. Pat yourself on the back.
I am cheering for you from the back porch patio.
Feb 2024 Peru 232 pounds May 10th at a fundraiser at 185 dancing the night away
TX Travel Girl 