Placing Myself

I find that as I get older, I have been "placing myself."

Placing myself in time and in location. I am not sure why this is or what purpose it serves. It is not that I do not know what time it is or where I am, this is not the onset of Dementia, this is not me being confused.

This is something that might have to do with Gregory's being gone and my living alone.

It might have to do with my aura growing larger as I gain more wisdom and become enlightened? Although just saying I might be becoming more enlightened shows I am not!

It could be that as an outgoing, extroverted person I do not have enough people around enough of the time with whom to have conversations.

I find that as I am drifting off to sleep or drifting back awake, I will shout or talk out.

Apart from sleep time, during wake time I will address whom? Myself? Gregory? Someone imagined in the room or someone in my dream? Or just the air around me?

"How about that then!" I will say. Or "What do you think about that?" "How could that be?" "Well now!" "I guess that is that." "What next?" "Yum, that was delicious."

For most of my retired life, 24 years now, I always knew what day of the week it was and weekend days seemed more important than others and carried weekend events of their own. Now I find myself asking Siri, "Hey Siri, what day is today?" Often Wednesday or Thursday afternoon feels like Saturday or Sunday morning. I seem to check my computer's calendar more often.

On the location side, some 25 years later, I will still have work oppressive dreams where my classroom is being set up in September or dismantled in June. My students and/or parents will be rude, disrespectful, angry and demanding. The principal will be chastising, criticising, or evaluating me as "poor."

Other times I will be running workshops on Alzheimer's, life skills, Buddhism. Solving the problems of the world or stating in concise theory, complex ideas. I will be unraveling truths so fast that when I do wake I no longer remember them to guide my own life.

I will say out loud, "Wow, I am in my condo and I love it here." "I am blessed." "I am fortunate. I am grateful." or "OK, Show Time," when a movie or TV program begins."

I will shout in the garage going to or coming from my car just to hear myself, especially as it echoes and reverberates off the extensive concrete surrounding. "Hello Garage."

"Wow!" as I remember an event or idea. Or "OK" loudly as I complete an idea on my blog or in the preparation for an upcoming presentation.

Recently while visiting New York City, I found myself naming the city as I walked around 42nd street or on my way to a theater engagement: "New York City, here I am!"

My friend Roger talks about "Old Man Noises." These refer to the grunting, breathing, sighing and other noises older folks seem to make when sitting down, standing, lifting objects, climbing stairs, etc. He admonishes, "Avoid making Old Man Noises!"

Maybe I am just experiencing "Old Man Comments?" When asked about my talking to myself, I am told, "As long as you do NOT answer yourself." But I do! Now what?

Singing from Behind

FIRST posted in December 2010:

The Holiday Season never begins until the first Saturday in December at Roger’s annual Christmas Party. One is always able to count on a delicious home made dinner, home baked cookies, fond friends (some seen only once a year at this event,) and a festive atmosphere filled with love. On the “perfect each year” fresh Christmas Tree decorated with old fashioned lights, there are ornaments from his family that go back generations and from his many friends that go back a lifetime. 

His home has added touches of Christmas everywhere. There is a bit on tinsel on top of a picture frame and small red and green foil boxes held in the arms of a Plaster Putti in the bathroom. There is a snow globe on the dining room table that plays music and a forest of various types of miniature trees on the shelf above his kitchen counter. On a folding table in a corner of the living room there is his family’s antique nativity scene and in the bedroom a second, foil Christmas Tree very much in the style of Charlie Brown.

Everywhere you look, there is love and Christmas and thirty or so people enjoying their time with Roger in the big sense of home which he has created in his small apartment.

Another tradition at the party celebrates his Jewish friends. In the beginning of this party, that goes back at least thirty or so years, since they never got to do it in their own home the Jews got to put the lights on the Christmas Tree, but based on a lack of experience with things Christmas, they usually did a very poor job of it. After many years of having to rearrange the lights after the party, Roger decided that this part of the tradition had to go!

Hanukkah dreidels, “gelt” in the form of gold foil wrapped chocolate coins, and the lighting of the Menorah have continued. By now the non-Jews have learned the blessing over the lighting of the candles and joyously join in the singing.

As I squeezed in to join the singing, Lisa tried to make room for me but there were so many people grouped around the Menorah that I told her, “I’ll just sing from behind.” Giggling, she said that my comment sounded like the title of a short story: “Singing from Behind.” This then is that story. 

Singing from Behind

FIRST posted in December 2010:

The Holiday Season never begins until the first Saturday in December at Roger’s annual Christmas Party. One is always able to count on a delicious home made dinner, home baked cookies, fond friends (some seen only once a year at this event,) and a festive atmosphere filled with love. On the “perfect each year” fresh Christmas Tree decorated with old fashioned lights, there are ornaments from his family that go back generations and from his many friends that go back a lifetime. 

His home has added touches of Christmas everywhere. There is a bit on tinsel on top of a picture frame and small red and green foil boxes held in the arms of a Plaster Putti in the bathroom. There is a snow globe on the dining room table that plays music and a forest of various types of miniature trees on the shelf above his kitchen counter. On a folding table in a corner of the living room there is his family’s antique nativity scene and in the bedroom a second, foil Christmas Tree very much in the style of Charlie Brown.

Everywhere you look, there is love and Christmas and thirty or so people enjoying their time with Roger in the big sense of home which he has created in his small apartment.

Another tradition at the party celebrates his Jewish friends. In the beginning of this party, that goes back at least thirty or so years, since they never got to do it in their own home the Jews got to put the lights on the Christmas Tree, but based on a lack of experience with things Christmas, they usually did a very poor job of it. After many years of having to rearrange the lights after the party, Roger decided that this part of the tradition had to go!

Hanukkah dreidels, “gelt” in the form of gold foil wrapped chocolate coins, and the lighting of the Menorah have continued. By now the non-Jews have learned the blessing over the lighting of the candles and joyously join in the singing.

As I squeezed in to join the singing, Lisa tried to make room for me but there were so many people grouped around the Menorah that I told her, “I’ll just sing from behind.” Giggling, she said that my comment sounded like the title of a short story: “Singing from Behind.” This then is that story.