Reflections
Things I realized while mostly being off social media this week.
We lost my father-in-law, David Micahnik (click for obit) last week, after a difficult few years— especially the last four months, when he was bouncing back and forth between the ER and rehab, as well as dealing with Alzheimer’s. My husband spent a lot of time away from home to manage his care, which was almost a full-time job, as anyone who has had to care for a loved one while navigating our broken healthcare system knows.
Dave’s life was devoted to fencing - competing, coaching (he was the fencing coach at UPenn for 35 years) and mentoring. We heard from so many fencers that he coached, telling us how he had such a positive impact on their lives.
Funerals help to give us closure, and a chance to both mourn and celebrate.
But more than that, being away from our everyday lives gives us a chance to ponder and reflect. To think deeper, without the constant distractions.
Fortunately, I brought my journal with me, so I could jot down thoughts and anecdotes. I’ll share some of these over the next few weeks, but today I’m focused on remembering what is important, especially over the next four years.
The most important thing is relationships. Spending time with people we love, be they family or found family.
The second thing is being present - but allowing yourself breaks. I’m a total news junkie. This past week there was the usual barrage of news alerts about the incoming administration. We know from last time 45 was in office that the chaos is only going increase post Jan 20th.
It was hard enough to maintain equilibrium and energy the first go-round, and it will be harder this time because of there are fewer guardrails, and fewer people in Congress with the courage to put country over party.
The few days I spent mostly offline in the company of family gave me respite, perspective, and strength, despite the sad circumstances. So to survive the next four years, I plan to build in more “respite time” - where I give myself permission to ignore news alerts for a day or two, particularly when in the company of people I love. Doing so will give me the strength to fight the good fight when the respite is over.
Another important thing I’ve been thinking about is how to spend the rest of the time I have left, something those of us who have more of our life behind us than in front of us tend to do. I’ve been loving Anne Lamott’s Washington Post newsletter “A Users Guide to Aging.” (Yes I know the WAPO management sucks under Mr. Penis Rocket, but I maintained my sub for this.)
In a recent column, Lamott wrote about going shopping for a dress with a dear friend who was dying of cancer.
I came out of the dressing room wearing a short dress, tighter than normal, and asked if it made me look big in the hips.
She looked me in the eyes, calmly. “Annie,” she said, “you don’t have that kind of time.”
That sentence shocked me into getting real about how I was spending my life. We know by a certain age the great palace lies of the culture — if you buy or do or achieve this or that, you will be happy and rich. Nope. Love and service make us rich.
This resonated with me on so many levels. As a recovered bulimic who has suffered from body image issues, the line “you don’t have that kind of time” struck hard, especially knowing I’m going to be shopping for a mother-of-the-bride outfit in the next few months. Note to self: go with a friend who, if that old eating disorder part of my brain rears its ugly head, will remind me that I don’t have that kind of time. That there isn’t enough money in the world that would convince me to go back to my 20’s, when I was skinny and buying clothes that flattered was easy, unless I could take my 61-year old brain with me.
But what resonated most, especially in a time where it seems like the oligarchs are intent on destroying our democratic republic, is that it’s not STUFF that makes us rich. It’s love and service, it’s friendships, it’s doing for others, as the late Jimmy Carter modeled so well.
Because let’s face it: someone is going to have to deal with all that STUFF when you’re gone. Half my basement is STUFF from my parents and grandparents, that I know I need to go through and either scan or toss, because I don’t want my kids to have to deal with it.
My in-laws house is packed with STUFF - cleaning it out is going to be a huge, exhausting project.
Here’s a great example of love and service - my sister Anne came to the funeral. I showed her one of the rooms piled with STUFF, and told her how much we are dreading clearing it all out, because the task seems insurmountable.
And she and my brother-in-law Mark offered their time to come down and help us for a day. That my friends, is what I call love and service. The offer was like a warm hug.
Death gives us a chance to reassess our lives, and I’ll write more about some of the realizations I came to at a later date. But I’ll end with something else that resonated in Anne Lamott’s newsletter:
We are blessed by God if we live to be seniors and have the people around us whom we love to share precious memories with.
That’s something I’m determined to prioritize in my life going forward.
xo
Sarah