Tag: life
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Chapter 69. One Year Later.
We settled there some 48 years ago. The half-acre property sitting in the middle of an urban area gave us all we needed: space for our two cats and two dogs. And it would ultimately give us the place where we would acquire and say good-bye to more cats, dogs. . . . among them our 7 beloved…
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Chapter 66. The House is Sold.
We closed on the house yesterday. Prior to the official closing, we met with the new buyers, a couple, both lawyers in their early 30’s. I had prepared a spreadsheet of items, contractors, people who fix broken things, electrical information, swamp cooler, you know, house stuff. I also printed out information on the architect who designed the house…
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Chapter 64. We Live in a Hallmark Movie
I didn’t think this up. My niece, Laurie, did. I was chatting with her this morning, and she commented on the Christmas light show in our Town Center. “You live in a Hallmark movie,” she said. She’s a genius. She really is. For forty-eight years, GB and I lived in the solitude of our half-acre garden. The architecture of the…
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Chapter 63. Dementia
I have a relative with Lewy body dementia. I thought I’d write about this because of the devastating impact this form of dementia, and others, has on the family. And the patient suffering from it. You’ve heard the jokes, “Oh, dementia by the time they have it, they’ve already forgotten about it.” Not exactly true. My…
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Chapter 62. Lonely laps.
Dogs love dog parks. They love sniffing each other, romping, fighting over balls or Frisbees. Their tails work furiously to wiggle their bodies. Tongues out, eyes bright. Yep. Dogs love dog parks. And so, do I. I have made a point to visit dog parks wherever we travel. GB objects but begrudgingly gives in. I can sit for hours watching dogs. I know…
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Chapter 61. Aging sucks. Or not.
I look at my hands, and I see the same wrinkly, veined hands as my mother’s. And my grandmother’s. And it isn’t just the outward appearance of my hands. It’s the way I hold things. A little digression here. Remembering this reminds me of the years when my mom worked downtown. She added an additional thirty minutes to her commute…
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Chapter 59. Women
I love women. I love working with them, living with them, being friends with them. I especially love that I am one. Years ago, I was a lobbyist. I was one of a few women in the field at the time. At times it was unpleasant. Unwanted advances, comments and just plain dismissals were routine. Don’t get me…
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Chapter 59. My Front Porch
For forty-eight years, we lived on a secluded property. A thirty-foot-tall brick wall created the facade of the house. There were no windows so we couldn’t watch the events on the street or sidewalk. The wall was framed by three spectacular Red Bud trees. A walkway paralleled by Oregon Grape and covered by a pergola led to the front…
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Chapter 57. From April to September: What Changed
Living at Everleigh is a gigantic change in our lives. I suspect I like it more than GB does because at the house, I was responsible for everything. Shopping, repairs, maintenance, garden, meals, social calendar, chickens, dogs, cats, grandsons. I did that, plus work full-time for 48 years. He got to enjoy it. No wonder I was exhausted. Then…
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Chapter 55. The Importance of Stuff
For as long as I can remember, I have made statements like this: Things mean nothing to me. They’re all replaceable. If the house burned down today, I’d be fine just so long as I saved the animals. I always wondered if I meant it. A couple of weekends ago, we had an estate sale. Rebecka (the estate…
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Chapter 53. La famiglia di mio marito
GB was adopted by a nice Jewish family. He was officially converted to Judaism when he was about 7. He remembers the event vividly because he and his brother, Chuck, were taken to the West Side and dipped in the waters of the mikvah, a ritual bath. He wasn’t told why it was necessary. Some 60 years later,…
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Chapter 47. Moving
Moving is horrible. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. We downsized from a 2200 square foot house, not large by today’s standards, to an 1100 square foot apartment. We downsized from a half-acre garden to a front porch and a patio. We downsized and then did it again. And again. And one more time. We took each room of our…
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Chapter 40. Going Home.
In 1940, my grandparents, Louis and Celia Altberger, were living in a one-bedroom apartment in Denver’s Capitol Hill neighborhood. My mom had married the previous year and was living in Pueblo with my dad. Louis, always the man with the big ego, came home one day with a puppy in his arms. What the hell is that? Asked…
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Chapter 30. Power
I suppose I’ve accepted the diminishment of power in my life as I age. Letting go of the empowerment of work creates a void that in retirement is filled by less important duties. Having spent a life to make change, do things better, create systems that work has been a privilege afforded by few. I’ve been lucky…
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Chapter 26. My Brother.
I was born so my brother would have someone to torment. We grew up in the ‘50’s and it was a perfect time to be a kid. We freely roamed the streets, alleys and parks. Got on busses and went where we pleased. Walked to the movie theatre where my brother would tell me I couldn’t sit with him…
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Chapter 16. My Mother
My friend, Susan, tells me she loves my writing but that I don’t go deep. I counter with the fact that I’m not deep. My brain moves from one topic to another, travels through time, jumps ahead then back. She has complained that she wants to get to know the people I reference but that sometimes I give…
Air. 