Moving Forward

Posted on by The Retired Alchemist

It is hard to believe that it has been over six weeks since my wonderful dad left his earthly home and was reunited with my mom. I miss his presence in the world. There was a palpable absence at my brother’s annual prime rib dinner on Father’s Day. Big brother #2 gets up early every Father’s Day to start smoking three large prime ribs. The aroma is almost as good as the taste. But Father’s Days is over and it is time to start moving forward again.

My big bro’s prime rib is so well known that his wife made a sign for him.

As those of you that have lost a parent know, those first six weeks are mentally and physically exhausting. We just finished up with the emotionally charged task of cleaning out my parent’s home. Their shelter from the world. It has been a poignant roller coaster of laughter, tears and memories. Recessed closet shelves and boxes tucked in deep drawers sheltered little nuggets of their lives that gave us pause.

The physical work is done. We have packed up the memories and stored them in our hearts… and in a few closet shelves and deep drawers for our own children to unearth someday. The circle of life continues on. And so must we.

Moving forward

A big life change like losing someone you love, causes you to question everything. Deep questions, like – why am I here, what is my purpose, and how do I want to use the time I have left of this one and only precious life. Periodic life evaluation is healthy. It causes us to reassess and ensure that we are moving forward purposefully. It is the path to living without regrets.

I have spent some quiet evenings feeling a bit like Dobie Gillis standing in front of the statue in the park while he contemplates the meaning of life (if you know, you know). I thought about how I want to move forward as I sifted through the memories and remnants of my parent’s lives. It was nothing shockingly different from how I am currently living but rather, little shifts in how I want to use my time. Because time and energy are our most precious commodities, particularly as we age.

My parents left behind a few things that helped me to determine how I should use my time and energy during my retirement years. There are lessons to be had in knitting needles, a metal lunch box, the margins of a bible scribbled with notations, binoculars, an old worn hat and a kite.

The knitting needles – choose your dopamine rush

My mom was a collector. She enjoyed the hunting and gathering of items she loved. She really liked knitting and had a large collection of needles. More than she could ever use. Purchasing items we want gives us a quick dopamine (the feel-good hormone) rush, but the exhilarating feeling usually wears off shortly after we get the item home.

When we want to make a change or do something exciting, we get a dopamine rush just from thinking, planning, reading or buying items for it. That is the reason that the planning and anticipation are half the fun. This is good… to an extent.

The problem is that we often get stuck in the quick fix dopamine surges created by planning, thinking, reading or buying items for an interest or hobby, but never follow through on it. Hence all of the well-intentioned treadmills gathering dust. It is easier to live in the dopamine derived from anticipation. But that will never be as fulfilling, or long lasting, as getting a dopamine rush through experiences. As I continue moving forward, the knitting needles are a stark reminder to choose my dopamine rush carefully so that I am living life fully now.

The lunch pail – don’t give up on your passion

My dad (right) working at his gas station.

Buried deep in my parent’s garage was my dad’s scratched and dented metal lunch pail. Seeing it brought back a flood of memories: my mom rising early every weekday morning to put on the coffee and fill dad’s lunch pail with a hearty sandwich, fruit and a homemade goody – all wrapped lovingly in wax paper. And there was always a sturdy thermos of coffee to go with it.

My dad was an entrepreneur at heart. Shortly after my parents got married, he bought a gas station that he successfully operated for several years. Eventually he decided to sell the station and took a job with a steady paycheck and good benefits, which was important for a growing family. He did a good job because he believed that anything worth doing was worth doing well, but he never loved it. He could have stayed there in the security of it, but he trusted his gut and followed his passion to be an entrepreneur once again.

So, 58 years ago, my parents took out a mortgage on the house and bought a small wood product mill that operated out of a dilapidated chicken coop. It outgrew the chicken coop in the first year and my dad turned it into a thriving, successful business that the next three generations of his family continue to own and operate. All because he chose to follow his passion, even when it wasn’t the safest choice at the time. As I continue moving forward, the scratched metal lunchbox is a stark reminder to trust my gut, take a risk and follow my passions and dreams. Be true to your authentic self even if no one else can see your vision.

The bibles – step outside your comfort zone

As long as I can remember, my mom read her bible daily. She made notes in the margins including prayers for others, answered prayers, and nuggets of wisdom she derived from the verses. She poured over it, and her curiosity to understand it led her into deep studies of the bible. It was evident by her marked study bibles, theological commentaries, biblical dictionaries and copious notebooks she filled.

She was a self-taught bible scholar. Over time, she became extremely knowledgeable in the study of the bible. She could have stopped there and just filled her own heart. Instead, she pushed herself out of her comfort zone and started teaching bible studies. She shared her gift with others through her bible studies, prayers and encouragement. The impact she made was clearly evident as we read through the cards and letters that people sent thanking her for sharing her gift with them and how it changed their lives.

As I continue moving forward, the bibles and cards are a stark reminder to share my interests, talents and gifts with others. Live my purpose even though it is uncomfortable. Don’t hide it in a corner that soothes yourself but no one else benefits from.

The binoculars and hat – nature heals our fractured lives

My dad’s binocular case sat on a shelf reminding us of his love for nature. Sitting beside his binoculars was a very worn brimmed hat that he always plopped on before he headed outside. My dad did not watch much T.V. – he preferred his newspaper, books and being outdoors with his binoculars hung around his neck and the brim of his hat shading his eyes.

Armed with his hat and binoculars he was ready to enjoy the great outdoors. He was drawn to nature, instinctively knowing it was a healing balm for the soul, long before all of the research studies confirmed it (Nurtured by nature). Even in his last couple years, he would point out a tree in bloom or remind us to stop and listen to the birds sing. He instinctively knew that nature repairs our fractured lives.

In our busy digital absorbed lives, we tend to shelter in and close down to the world as we focus on our screens. As I continue moving forward, the binoculars and worn hat are a stark reminder to close my laptop, turn off my phone and get out in nature to refresh my soul.

Dad out fishing with his favorite old worn hat on.

The kite – take time for joy and fun

My sister and I were burrowing our way into one of the closets in my parent’s home when we came across something bright nestled in the corner. As we removed items in front of it, tears came to our eyes. It was my dad’s kite. Yes, he still had a kite tucked away for a windy day.

A few months after my mom passed away, my dad turned 95. His grieving heart wanted to see the ocean one last time. The crashing waves and sandy beaches held special memories for him and mom. Trips to the Oregon Coast were a part of my childhood and Mr. U and I have carried that tradition on with our own kids and now their families. (See posts, My Mother Heart and Planning Your Retirement Wealth Portfolio.) Traditions show up in unexpected ways.

So, my sister and I thought… why not take him to the ocean for his 95th birthday? My dad brought along his kite. He wanted to fly it on the windy beach one last time. It was a perfect afternoon when we let out the strings and watched the kites soar. But the best part was the smile on my dad’s face. As I continue moving forward, the kite is a stark reminder to take time for joy and fun. Because we never know when it will be our last chance.

My dad and Mr. U flying kites at the Oregon coast.

Reevaluating my use of time and energy

There were so many items left behind. Remnants of a life well lived. As I turned these items over in my hands, I knew that that my parents were also leaving me with wisdom on how to move forward after they were gone. Tangible items that were packed with lessons on life.

The knitting needles, lunch pail, bibles, binoculars, hat and kite, represent just some of the lessons I walked away with. There are three ways that I plan to apply these lessons as I move forward:

  • I want to be intentional about choosing my dopamine rush. Get out there and experience my dopamine rush in real life and not by just making a list, observing it on a screen or buying items to support it. Being out in nature and travel are guaranteed dopamine rushes for me that I need to honor.
  • Pouring my soul into words and sharing snippets of my life is definitely out of my comfort zone. It is scary and vulnerable to send your heart out into the world. But writing is a passion and this blog is an avenue to share that passion. I hope that it encourages and inspires readers in positive ways. I plan to continue with it but move it more in a direction that resonates with me, and hopefully you, at this point in life. More of a focus on healthy, positive aging (not to be confused with anti-aging), living retirement with authenticity, intention and joy and finding happiness in the simple pleasures of life. If this is for you, then stay tuned because there is lots more to unpack in future posts.
  • Lastly, I want to take more time for pleasure and fun. Fly more kites. Things that have no purpose other than they make your heart sing. Besides, there is fodder for future blog posts buried in the fun and play.

Life is full of curiosity, beauty, joy and lessons to still be learned, no matter how old we are. Thanks for hanging with me on this long post. As you move forward with your life, I hope you find your positive dopamine rush, get out in nature, step out of your comfort zone and delve into what you are passionate about. And don’t forget to experience fun and delight along the way.

Cheers to the retirement years!

One of the Great Ones

Posted on by The Retired Alchemist

There is a quiet hole in my world right now. Yet, the sun continues to rise and set every day, as people go about the business of living. But my family is acutely aware of this hole. This loss. My wonderful dad passed quietly last week. He had just celebrated his 99th birthday and was ready both physically and spiritually. We were not. But then… we would never be. Now we must move forward without his positive attitude and warm smile.

My dad… one of the great ones.
Dad sharing a couple precious moments with some of his great grandchildren.

Who helped build you

In my naivety as a kid, I assumed that everyone grew up in a similar home as mine. That everyone had structure, kindness and security wrapped in the walls of parents who loved unconditionally. It wasn’t until I was much older that I realized this was not the norm and that many people have to overcome adversity and very difficult childhoods in order to become great humans. It made me forever grateful for my parents, who remained active parts of our entire lives.

My parents were married for 72 years. A great example of sticking together through the ups and downs of life.

My mom and dad were a couple of the solid ones. The great ones. My mom passed just over four years ago. I wrote the post, A Tribute to My Mom, to honor her. While my dad missed her terribly, he bravely continued on without her. His children gathered around him frequently, visiting, bringing him meals, going out to eat together, going for drives out in the nature that he loved, and sharing family celebrations and holidays. He was a gift to us, and it was a pleasure to spend time with him. He was an integral part of our lives, as I have shared in several previous posts: Tucked Away up North, The Great Columbia River Gorge, Am I Vintage, Roadsidea Gone Wilde, Two Words to Maintain Your Health,

Some of our many adventures with our dad.

Remembering…

As my siblings and I gathered together to share our grief, we also shared our memories growing up. Memories of my dad finding work for us to do in order to learn a solid work ethic. Memories of him enjoying life with his children: swimming with us after work, ice skating on the weekends and then coming inside to a toasty wood fire, backpacking trips with my brothers, riding on his rototiller as he turned the soil for his garden, and the firecrackers that he let off outside our bedroom windows every morning on the 4th of July (way too early). Memories of him attending church. Every. Single. Sunday. He and my mom had a deep faith, and their prayers helped guide and build each one of us.

Dad and I admiring my new little brother.

This is a man who lived his entire life with great integrity, faith, commitment and kindness. He was a successful business owner, who loved his family deeply and always found time for them. His solid foundation was peppered with a sense of humor and fun. We will miss his words of encouragement, guidance and giving heart. All of his six children are grateful to have been able to call him our “dad.”

My dad with all six of his children on Father’s Day last year.

A family gathers together

Our large family came together to honor him. Grandchildren flew in from all across the U.S. to show their respect, love, and appreciation. As we gathered together in our loss, we cried, we laughed and we shared the wonderful stories and fun poems that he created. All of us, even his grandchildren, remember him reciting The Red Balloon poem that he wrote years ago. Red was his favorite color. It seemed fitting to share this poem as his extended family gathered together at the gravesite to release him, and some red balloons – to say goodbye, for now, to one of the greats.

Photo credit for the feature photo and these two photos goes to my lovely and talented grandniece, Katie.

A huge hole is left in our family, but his legacy and impact will live on for generations to come. He touched all of our lives in a positive way, and we are all better people because of him.

Moving forward

It has been a difficult three months as my dad’s health deteriorated rapidly. Now I have to figure out how to live with this big empty spot in my heart and life. So, I am taking a pause from this blog. I need some time to process, heal and figure out how to move forward.

This loss hit at a point when I was re-evaluating whether to continue this blog, change directions with it, or go to a different medium. A huge thanks to all of you that have read, reached out and/or commented. I will be offline for a little while as I step back and reassess. However, I will return to keep you posted on the results of this retreat. (If you want to know when that is, you can sign up for the newsletter that sends you an email when a new post comes out. It is ONLY used for this blog and nothing else.)

In the meantime, continue to seek joy and experience awe moments in this beautiful, brief life.

Cheers to the retirement years!

The Sandwich Years

Posted on by The Retired Alchemist

The sandwich years. Most of us experience them at some point in our lives. They are those years when we are pulled between caring for children and caring for aging parents. Or, for those of us that experience the good fortune of having our parents live long enough, the sandwich years may be the push/pull between being involved with our grown children and grandchildren’s lives and caring for our aging parents. Either way, it is a tug of war with our time and energy. Not to mention our heart.

These are people that we care deeply about and want to spend time with. People that we want to give the best of ourselves to. But we run short on hours and energy. We spread ourselves too thin and it leaves precious little time to nurture ourselves. Then, we are no longer giving our best selves to them. We are just giving little fragments of ourselves. Finding the balance is key. It is like finding the balance to the ingredients for a perfect sandwich. Not all of the amounts are equal, but when they come together, they make a fulfilling whole.

Creating a quality sandwich

When we are in the caregiver role, we want to make a difference. We want to do something that matters and makes them feel better, either physically or emotionally. After all, we would not be doing this if we did not have the best of intentions and want to take good care of our loved ones. However, some things are more meaningful and have a greater impact than others. So, I thought I would share a few tips that have worked for me, both as a nurse and as someone who has spent a lot of time caring for children and aging parents.

  • When you are with them, make it quality. Give them total focus and let it be about them. For elders, it means asking questions and listening to their responses. Encourage them to share their life stories…. again, and again. It gives them the opportunity to review their life and find meaning. It is an important part of the closure process. Let them know how their presence in your life has changed you, or what it has meant to you. Share with them what you are grateful for about them. If it is a child, look them in the eye. Same thing – ask open ended questions and listen. Their responses will be much shorter and be prepared to laugh. Remember Art Linkletter’s show, Children Say the Darndest and Wildest Things?
Being with grandchildren lightens our world.
  • Sit down. When I was teaching nursing at the college I tried to stress to my students the importance of quality time with their patients. To drive this home, I told them about a research study that was performed with patients that were in the hospital. In the first group, the physicians would come in and spend ten minutes with the patient. They would stand the entire time. In the second group the physicians spent the same 10 minutes with the patient, but they sat down next to them during their visit. Afterwards, both groups of patients were asked how long the physician stayed. As expected, the first group said, about 10 minutes. But, when the second group was asked the same question, they said about 20 minutes. It felt twice as long when the physicians just sat down and looked their patients in the eye. Enough said.
  • Breaking bread together. Sharing food is connection, no matter what your age. After over 72 years of sharing meals with my mom, it was hard for my dad to eat alone. He always enjoys it when we sit down and eat with him. And what little one doesn’t love a special treat, like going out for ice-cream or spreading a blanket on the grass and having a picnic together? Time shared over food bonds people. Always has.
My sister and I sharing a Mother’s Day tea with my dad last week.
  • Meaningful touch. People need human touch. Particularly the elderly because they do not experience it as often. A gentle hand on the arm, a warm embrace or holding a fragile hand in your own can calm the nervous system by lowering cortisol (the stress hormone) and releasing oxytocin and dopamine (our feel-good hormones). There have been copious amounts of research on the importance of human touch. A lack of human touch can contribute to anxiety, depression and a lowered immune system. So, reach out, even if it feels awkward or uncomfortable at first.
  • Care for the caregiver. This is last on the list, but certainly not least. Take time away for yourself. Intentionally choose to do something that refreshes your mind and spirit. As the old sayings goes, you cannot pour from an empty cup. Make sure to take time to process your feelings, because you don’t want to hold them in and get all clogged up inside. With aging parents, we often have feelings of anxiety, guilt or fear. It helps to release them. This can be done through journaling, prayer or just talking to someone you trust. You may have to set boundaries on when you are available. Even if they do not push the boundaries, we often do it ourselves. When you leave, it helps to let them know when you will be back and then stick to it.
Being out on the water and journaling are two ways I care for myself.

The circle of life

Spending time with my one-year-old grandson and then going to see my 99-year-old dad, has given me an abrupt awareness of the circle of life. (They are seen together in the above feature photo.) Both give me so much. I am richer in spirit by being with both my dad and my grands. Spending time with our aging parents teaches us wisdom, patience and an awareness of the fragility of life. Being with our grandchildren balances the equation and teaches us to see the world with awe, laughter, fun and excitement for the future. Both of them teach us the significance of deep love, and the awareness to appreciate every moment… to find wonder in the little things. And as tiring and exhausting as it can be, I always walk away knowing that I received much more than I gave.

The circle of life is a hard, beautiful thing.

For the Moms

Posted on by The Retired Alchemist

If I could give a Mother’s Day gift to all of the mom’s out there, it would be the book, Gift From the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh. This little gem was first published in 1955, but the insights on life as a mother are timeless. Maybe more so in this complex, overdriven, high expectation life that modern day mothers find themselves thrust into.

Anne was a pioneering aviator, writer, mother of five children and wife to the famous Charles Lindbergh. She understood the demands that come from all directions on mothers – the constant pull on their time and the deep desire to nurture everyone else. It leaves little left over for oneself.

“Even those (other mothers) whose lives had appeared to be ticking imperturbably under their smiling clock-faces were often trying, like me, to evolve another rhythm with more creative pauses in it, more adjustment to their individual needs, and new and more alive relationships to themselves as well as others.”

Gift From the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh

This book sits on my office shelf – a gift from my mom, with her handwritten inscription on the inside cover.

Being a mom

Being a mother is one of the greatest privileges of a woman’s life. But, from the very first time you hold that precious child in your arms, you realize the weight of responsibility. You become acutely aware that, as a mother, you hold the key to keeping this little being alive. There is an undeniable compulsion to protect him/her from the harsh world that they were born into, both physically and emotionally.

Our deepest desire, aside from the health and safety of their bodies and souls, is that they are happy. Ask any mom what she wants for her children and she will tell you, “I just want them to be happy.” And not just surface happy, but deep down in their gut happy. In an effort to care for them and secure their happiness, we make mistakes along the way. No perfect moms, despite our best efforts. Our parenting is often a product of our culture at the time too. Remember Dr. Spock?

As mothers, we sacrifice our time, sleep, and very being to care for our children. So much so that we forget the balance… that our children need to see us happy too. They need to see us living our lives with joy. Moms in the throes of raising children need to find the space to refresh their souls too. And not just on Mother’s Day.

That is what Lindbergh’s book gently points out. She takes a vacation alone to the ocean to rediscover herself. Through the analogy of the shells she gathers from the beach, she searches for the delicate balance of raising children but not losing herself in the process. Seeking that balance is timeless.

Being a grandma

Most grandparents do not care for their grands 24/7, so it is easier for us to strike that balance of time for ourselves, and time to give our grandchildren. We can slow down when we are with them to see the world through their eyes. They help us see the color of the caterpillar, the path the ants left marching across the sand, or the ripples spread by tossing a pebble in the water. We enter their world of imagination with them.

In these moments, we have time to gaze into their eyes as they talk and we listen. Really listen, because, as grandparents, we know that we will have time to do the wash, clean the house and pay the bills later after they leave. We are not pulled in ten different directions when we are with them, and that is the blessing that comes back to us in these later years as a grandma.

What a gift to be just a little part of our grandchildren’s lives.

Happy Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day is a celebration of women. Women who have given a part of themselves for other people. We carry that desire to nurture others with us wherever we go in this world. We love deeply. We weep for a world where children are hurting or hungry. We see the homeless person curled up on the sidewalk and think, that person has a mother out there somewhere. We love the world with a mother’s heart, whether we are a mom physically or not.

So, whether you are a mother, or struggling with the desire to be a mother, have tragically lost a child, or have cared for people with a mother heart, you have had the privilege of sharing a woman’s love with the world. The kind of love that soothes the wounds of life. And that, is something worth celebrating, so Happy Mother’s Day to all women!

Day Trippin

Posted on by The Retired Alchemist

Sometimes we just don’t have the luxury of taking a long, exotic vacation. It could be due to time, money or other commitments. However, we can still get that same sense of freedom, creative inspiration and stress release by staying closer to home. We can go day trippin. According to our new trusted friend AI, a day-tripper is “a person who takes a pleasure trip, excursion or recreational visit to a place – such as a beach, city or tourist attraction – and returns home on the same day, without staying overnight.” And you thought it was about hallucinogens.

What are the benefits of day trippin you ask. First, it is much cheaper than driving hundreds of miles or flying across several states. You don’t have to spend hours in an airport, feeling like a cow being herded to the next destination, only to find out your flight has been delayed, and you will likely miss your connecting flight. It is less stress than planning and executing a long trip. You get to explore places in your own back yard that you may never have seen before. Bonus if you are retired and can go on a weekday when it is not so busy. And finally, at the end of the day, you get to sleep in your own bed.

The Pulaski Trail

Spring has sprung and so has the beauty of nature. I feel pulled to get out there and experience it. To let the fresh air fill my lungs and the bright colors stir my creative soul. So, Mr. U and I decided that we would try to go on one day trippin adventure per week through the summer. That means we will be lucky to get in one a month, but aim high, right? Last week we decided to explore the Pulaski Trail, which is less than an hour from our house. How have we never seen this beautiful piece of history before?

The beginning of the Pulaski Trail.

We wanted our day trip adventure to include being out in nature and getting some exercise. Just Google hiking trails near me and you may be surprised what shows up. We chose the Pulaski Trail because it was less than an hour away and included a 2-mile hike. Never mind that I should have read the entire description carefully because it was a 4-mile hike round trip… with quite an elevation near the top of it. Oh well, part of the adventure is the element of surprise. It was gorgeous.

The majority of the trail is along the West Fork of Placer Creek.
The Pulaski tool.

The Pulaski Tunnel Trail follows the route that Edward Pulaski traversed to escape the Great Fire of 1910. He and his firefighting crew were caught in unexpected high winds that blazed rapidly through the forest. With his quick action and knowledge of the territory he led them through the thick smoke up a creek to an old mine tunnel where they sought shelter from the billowing smoke and flames. He is credited with saving all but six of his 45 men crew.

The Pulaski tool, invented by Edward Pulaski, was designed to create fire lines, clear brush and dig in hard soil to blaze trails. Several of these tools hung on posts along the trail in tribute to him.

We made it to the overlook of the mine tunnel, now almost overgrown with moss and vegetation.

Beauty from ashes

As with much of life, over time, beauty and good will arise from the ashes. The Pulaski Trail is just one example of how time heals. What was once burnt trees and thick gray ash is now a forest full of green moss, ferns, colorful wildflowers and waterfalls splashing over rocks and logs. Like anyone that has been through trauma or a deep loss, you are not the same afterwards. You never will be. However, time molds our lives and beauty, and joy will rise from the ashes.

The winter run off made for beautiful waterfalls along the trail.

So, as you consider travel this summer, don’t forget to look in your own back yard. We often fail to explore the very places that are close by yet rich in beauty and history. Plan a few day trippin adventures in your own neck of the woods and you might be pleasantly surprised what you find. Just don’t forget to read the description thoroughly first.

Cheers to the retirement years!