SILVER SINGLES--THE AGING JOURNEY

     "Silver Singles,"are you fucking kidding me? Have I fallen into a generation of people looking for love on the internet? Or, as my mother-in-law once said, "I just want to find someone to fix my machines when they stop working." For her, romance, sex, adventure, the Caribbean had gone out the window. Apparently, this is not true for Silver Singles, though.

     Maybe this email in my Spam Folder actually referred to the new shingles vaccine? You have to worry about shingles, I gather, when you get older. I'd prefer not to get anything which would make me any crankier than I already am.

     So, what else is coming my way in communications from the outside world to remind me that I am in my 7th decade? Or is it the 8th? (Gasp!)

     1/ Catalogues that depress me, with odd tools to help your bad feet, knees, back, inability to bend over and clip your own toenails, and don't forget, porta-potties for times when your legs are too wobbly or brain is too confused to make it to the WC.n Or you are recovering from a joint replacement.

     2/ Cheap hearing aids from China, Japan, and other countries which are advertised in Sunday papers and in "the slips," as Ben used to call them--the colored advertising inserts in papers.

     3/ Stylish, sort of, pee-proof undies I see on Pinterest for the aging crowd. Really? How about just a towel tucked into my big purse, like Sister Evangelina on "Call the Midwives," who--when seeing the attending midwife, mom, and baby covered in soot from a collapsed grate in their home--laughed hysterically and said, "I peed my drawers!" Then asked for a towel.  These are advertised as, "Safe to Sneeze" protection.

     4/ Makeup mirrors to put on your bathroom mirror because you can't do close-ups anymore. Trying to put on mascara now without poking my eye out is a challenge. Does insurance cover this?

     5/ Special magnetic fasteners for my necklaces because who can fasten those damn small clasps anymore? I can't, even with a magnifying mirror. This is sobering, funny, and humbling to realize how shaky my hands are. Several necklaces have found themselves sailing through the air when I could not connect the ends.

     6/ One last pitfall: Based on my buying history, Amazon suggests that I should buy tall walking poles. I bought 2 of them because of the 22 steps from our deck to the ground. If I fall, winding up in a nursing home would be so dire and sad without my spicy tomato sauce and my sweet man.

     Maybe that's why I am so passionate about cooking? It is something I can control and do. I can knead bread without a magnifying glass; I can make hot tomato sauce with a sharp knife (watch it, Catholic broad!) & a wooden spoon. I can plate salads to look festive and tasty, with grilled asparagus and smoked red peppers on top of the just-picked greens. (I use a walking pole to steady myself in the garden.)

     Talk about your Lenten  journey.  I just have to keep giving things up, not getting attached to outcomes, and realizing deep in my beating heart that I am still here. Despite cancer. Despite recovery.  I am upright, loving my peeps, gardening, and enjoying life. I also know that God doesn't give a damn if my hair is white or brown, my lashes darkened, my tummies flat, and ears able to hear the highest bird songs.  I am going to follow the famous Buddhist teacher's saying, "Be here now," as well as my beloved Rumi who wrote, "There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground." As soon as it stops raining, I am going to do just that.