Here's the deal

The mother of eight of my 10 grand-kids likes to look at the current culprit of some heinous deed and say with frustration "What's your deal?" The kids range from 2 to 17 and every three months or so  one of them seems to have morphed into a new version; change is rampant.

Four of them, 8 to 13, remind me that I have morphed into "old" and some of the more vocal are worry-warting out loud that I'll die on them as their great-grandma did a year ago.  Except for great-grandma's sister who is 91, I am, at 72, the oldest one in all directions.  How did that happen?  At least the toddlers don't know and don't care, although I can no longer pick either one of them up. I tell them I'm not worried, I hope they won't, and that my side of the family was full of asthmatic, arthritic women some of whom made it to over 100, and on their feet. That's true. Sadly my own asthmatic mother managed to smoke herself into emphysema and died, angry at herself, at 74. When I think of her she is up at four in the morning, sitting in the dark smoking and drinking coffee.  She said that was the only way she could get any time to herself. I am not my mother, okay, some ways I am but not that particular way.  But I will probably breath a sigh of relief when I pass my 74th birthday. But we can make some choices.  I don't want to be pissed off at myself at the end whenever that comes. I'm trying to make my own deal.

I need to get moving.  I'm starting physical therapy for my arthritic hips. And no, I don't want to go.  My feet are in the same condition so I'm off tomorrow to find the recommended supportive shoes, read either homely or expensive or both.  I have refused to deal with this over the last year and now I am physically out of shape from not walking because of these hips and feet.  If I don't get myself moving I may seize up over the winter like some derelict trawler left tied up and neglected in the weather too long.

So I have:
1) Went in for the long overdue physical hence the physical therapy.
2) Made an appointment for new glasses to eliminate the other reason I fall off my feet.
3) Going to the audiologist because my hearing may be going, and vanity aside, it's hard to be social if you can't understand half of what anyone is saying.  And my family is LOUD.
4) Admitted I can no longer wear shoes that may damage my feet and worse yet cause me to fall. I gave away most of my lovely high heels.  I kept a pair that I used to go dancing in.  Makes me feel good to look at them now and then.
5)Admitted I was depressed and went to see a counselor because I was staying home napping, hoping the boxes to unpack themselves or maybe hoping someone would steal them.  How so you spell depression? We did some grief work about losses, moving, aging, kids leaving, deaths.  Not everyones' bag but it worked for me.
6) Realized I could live to be 90, eek, and what do I want to be when I grow up, again.
7) Got out my easel, pencils, and paints.  Started drawing.
8) Joined back up with Audubon, I belonged since I was in the 4th grade and when I got divorced (again) I dropped it along with several other things I enjoyed.  A pattern had formed.  I like the walking outside, the other birders, and drawing the birds and plants.

And very cool, my eldest son Chris and I are going to see Neil DeGrasse Tyson at Cordiner Hall on the Whitman College campus here.  Some great things and people show up in Walla Walla because of the colleges here.