Tag: aging

Sunday’s Theme Music –

Ashland, Oregon — Sunday, March 29, 2026.

49 F here this morning, we’ll looking for another day where the high temperature is in the low 70s. Yesterday ended with clouds mixing up with sunshine, and that’s where we’re starting today.

My wife and I were zonked out from attending the No Kings protests. Standing there, holding letters spelling out “No War”, blasted by sunshine, car exhaust, and noise, just undone us. We ate at Ruby’s Grill, a local favorite afterwards, and then did some errands. Back home, I read myself into a thirty-minute nap.

Still, it lifted our spirits to be among so many protesting Trump and his policies. I was pleased by how many young people participated this time. The responses from motorists going by also pleased me, especially when I say cars full of young children go by, the driver honking their horns while the children waved, gave thumbs up, or flashed peace signs.

Seems like ICE isn’t popular. Nor is the Trump Iran War. Nor is Trump’s grifting, tariffs, lies, and pardons, or his connections to Epstein.

My sisters and I received a good Mom report today. Karin — daughter of Mom’s late partner, Frank — visited Mom yesterday. She reported that Mom was happy and healthy. Using her walker, Mom showed Karin around the assisted living facility, pointing out her friends and their names. Mom said she could live alone at home except she struggles to get out of bed.

My sisters and I pointed out to one another that Mom is doing well because she’s more active. Part of that is her vanity: other women are using their walkers there, so Mom will, too. She doesn’t want to be known as the ‘old woman in the wheelchair’.

Mom is also eating better there, and probably sleeping better. Her desire to be home stems from her fixation on finances: she has a home that she owns and doesn’t want to be paying a small fortune for a place to lay her head. Mom also knows her finances will only go so far — and then what?

Yes, it’s an aging riddle wrapped up in a social enigma. We’re happy that Mom is reported to be doing well.

Today’s morning mental music stream inhabitant is “Only A Fool Would Say That”. This is a 1972 Steely Dan tune. It came to mind yesterday during the No Kings protest in Medford. A young white woman stopped at a traffic light rolled her window down and shouted “God bless Trump” five times.

People around me laughed and said, “What a fool.” The Neurons picked it up and rushed to the music memory module to find the Steely Dan song.

I hope your Sunday proceeds with grace and peace.

Cheers

0

The Mom Exchanges

Mom, 90, suffering from several medical conditions, in on many medications. My sisters, Gina, Lisa, and Sharon, live not far away from Mom. An intelligent person and retired nurse, Mom moved into assisted living this year after a suicide threat which she denies.

Before that, she lived with her partner, Frank, in her own home. That changed when Frank died last October.

Gina took Mom in and gave Mom a room with a bathroom. Mom was initially happy but slowly professed that she hated it and wanted to leave and go back to her house. She then began accusing her son-in-law, Pat, of ‘using a device on her head to hurt her’, spying on her, and hiding her TV control.

Pat denies it all. Pat and Mom had a great relationship until five months ago, when Mom’s accusations began. Last September, he converted her back porch into a room so she could live in her house on one level. After Frank died, Pat set up the room for Mom in his house.

Mom has a consistent pattern of accusing others of being mean and hateful to her. She did that with Frank. I never witnessed Frank being like that.

When Mom moved in with Gina, Mom began accusing her of being mean and hateful. I visited for a while and never witnessed Gina being mean and hateful. Those traits are completely contrary to Gina’s personality.

I called to chat with Mom last September. She launched into a diatribe about Frank being mean to her. I said, “Mom, I’m not listening to this. We’ll talk later.” I waited for her to respond. She said, “Okay.” We said good-bye.

Mom reported to Gina that that I’d been mean and hateful and had hung up on her.

Mom told us that Lori is being mean and hateful to her.

Lori at the assisted living facility told us that Mom has given a notice to vacate. Mom told them she plans to return to her home.

Mom’s physical therapist, Jennifer, visited Mom this week. Mom claims that Jennifer witnessed Lori being mean and hateful.

Gina called Jennifer. Jennifer said she witnessed a heated exchange between Mom and Lori. She also reported that Mom is thriving there. She’s using a walker instead of a wheelchair, socializing, and eating well.

Mom told Jennifer that the conversation she was having with Lori was about moving out. Mom insists she’s moving back to her house. Jennifer related to Gina that she told Mom, “I don’t recommend that you leave here or go back home. You’re doing well here but you’re not capable of living on your own.”

I texted Mom today:

“Hey Mom, heard your plans to leave the facility in April. I want to understand your plan so I can stay in the loop. Where are you planning to go and have you talked to anyone about helping you move?”

Mom responded:

“I’m going to my house where I don’t have to pay 5500 a month and be screamed at by this boss. I’m having diarrhea today and last night. I finally got two Imodium‘s but I only have one big pad left many small ones Jennifer, my physical therapist stopped to see me on Tuesday and heard LORI screaming at me about medicine from Sam’s. She said oh, Dee this is too stressful for you. I said I know I’m paying her a fortune to be screamed at. I have asked Lisa when she brings me pads if she ever does to take me home no answer. I’ll probably have to pay Uber. I have to be out by April 18. I’m very surprised to hear from you.”

I replied:

“Thanks for explaining, Mom. I understand you want to go back home. Who is confirmed to help you get there with your things, and what day are you planning to leave?”

She answered:

“No one is confirmed to help me get there with my things. Gina and Sharon don’t speak to me and Lisa doesn’t answer me. All my friends are dead. Ever since Frank died how my children have turned against me, even though I went to the hospital in Gina was proving wrong. The night. I went to the hospital Pat said to me I need to talk to you. I was crying so hard. I said Pat all you have to do is say three words it’s all true and he did not do it so I lost my whole family.”

My sisters, Gina and Lisa, were with Mom when she went to the hospital. Pat was not. Gina and Lisa deny that Mom’s conversation and crying took place.

And that’s where we now stand.

4

Thursday’s Theme Music — Trouble

Ashland, Oregon — Thursday, March 26, 2026.

It’s 35 degrees out with disorganized traces of thin fog and a bright blue sky. Today’s highs will carry the mercury into the sixties.

We have gnat trouble in our house. We’ve been slowly noticing the little critters. From what I’ve read, they may have started around the houseplants but have moved to the bathroom. My wife takes hot Epson salt baths and the skylight has a new ‘white film’ and a spider web up there is littered with gnat bodies. Now we need to address stopping these from spreading.

Adding to today’s troubles, my sisters are anxious about what’s going on with Mom. They’ve asked me to contact her about her plans. I was asked because I haven’t been publicly denounced as mean and hateful. My plan is just to ask her what her plans are and not to otherwise engage. I’m doing this by text as Mom has developed a confrontational communication style in the last year.

Mom’s activities are driving my sisters’ anxiety. Mom gave notice to the assisted living facility that she is moving out in April. She also informed them that she had contacted an elder abuse lawyer. She then changed all her prescriptions from the assisted living facility pharmacy back to Sam’s Club, where she used to get them.

It seems like Mom’s intention is to return to her house. That’s what she keeps saying she wants to do. But since she moved out last year, all the food has been removed, along with most of her belongings. The home was being readied for a sale in the spring, with Mom’s agreement. Everything now is topsy turvy.

My fingers are crossed that something useful will emerge from this attempt. I am not out to argue with her plans or try to make her see reason or anything. Just trying to see what she thinks is going on.

Political issues are troubling me on multiple levels. Locally, we’re working through what to do with the town hall. Plans are incubating to build a new complex, co-locating all local government facilities. The price attached to that is five million. But this is a town which already carries a heavy structural debt, has a large headcount and payroll, and has been cutting services while increasing service fees. Spending more money doesn’t seem prudent.

Nationally, I’m waiting to see what the jobs reports and inflation looks like next month. The Iran War has pushed up prices. We’re in a momentary lull with the war but Trump is issuing new threats, increasing tension again. This comes after he said that Iran gave him a very nice gift, and that Iran and the U.S. were negotiating, which Iran denies.

On a parallel course, the U.S. said it destroyed another four more ‘narco-terrorists’ when they destroyed another boat. No evidence has been presented to date that the people they’re killing are involved with drug smuggling, or that the drugs were destined for the U.S.

Different trouble-oriented songs were served up by The Neurons in the morning mental music stream. I ended up with a 957 recording of B.B. King of “Troubles, Troubles, Troubles”. It’s such a classic sound and just fits my mood.

I hope the best for you and yours, no matter where you are. May peace and grace carry you forward through all your troubles.

Cheers

6

Wednesday’s Theme Music – Far Away

Ashland, Oregon — Wednesday, March 25, 2026.

It’s a quietly rainy day out there. Clouds are cemented together against encroachments of sunshine and blue sky. Temperature isn’t bad, 51 F. 54 F is the prospective high.

Made an appointment with a urologist for a cystoscopy in May to figure out what caused the blood in my urine. It’s abated, far as I can tell but other tests show something growing in my bladder. They’re going to go in and see what that is.

I haven’t read much news this morning. A ‘something is about to happen’ vibe seems to be humming. Trump had threatened bombings which were against modern rules of war and gave a Monday PM deadline. Then, Monday morning, he reversed himself. That news changed financial markets. Traders made money by making moves just fifteen minutes before Trump made his announcement that he was holding off on further bombing.

What a coincidence.

I did read another comprehensive story about Epstein’s death.

I’m indulging in another day of reflections about Mom. We, her family, can’t just converse with her without it spiraling into deeply disturbing, frustrating patterns. She’s now saying the same thing about her primary assisted living contact that she said about my sister and about Frank. “She’s mean to me. She screams at me. I’m so unhappy here.”

It tears my sisters and I apart to see Mom be in this situation. We feel helpless and resigned.

I ended up with The Neurons playing “So Far Away” by Carole King in the morning mental music stream. Her songs with her singing them came out while I was in high school. Her album, Tapestry, resonated with so many young women in my life then. The songs were being heard everywhere.

I’m a rocker and leaned toward The Who and Pink Floyd as examples of my preferences back then. Yet her songs’ sensibilities and melodies worked.

The song arrived today because sis, who took Mom in, is really feeling it and reacting now. Venting a great deal. I can do very little except lend a shoulder because I’m so far away. And as I thought about it, Mom is far away in space and memory, far away from who she was. Going ‘home’ next time will be a very different place and experience.

Let me get off my pity pot. I hope your day and relationships surpass wonderful, it’s an excellent day of peace and grace for you.

Cheers

5

Monday’s Theme Music – Addictions

Ashland, Oregon — Monday, March 23, 2026.

Spring has a solid hold on our stretch of valley. 59 F and sunny, we’re heading to the upper 60s today. Good weather if you’re a feline looking for a sunny place to nap…

I will do more yard work. I did all of my tasks yesterday, including pulling weeds. But the weeds have had a very successful year. If I could sell them, I’d be a thousandaire.

I had to again break off part of this post to create a Trump-centric post. I think Trump voters are addicted to hate, and Trump himself addicted to power. He’ll do anything to elevate himself. Lies, fake information, bragging are not beyond him. Nor is AI generated content showing him to be superhero strong, smart, and healthy. To those of us outside of his sphere, we see these things and shake our head, muttering, “What the fuck?” It’s amazing how many of his base can’t see the truth; it’s more amazing to see how many are willing to lie and just go along with Trump. It’s frankly sickening to see how low they’re willing to stoop to pretend things are going great with Trump in office.

Nothing new on Mom nor my health. Just awaiting developments on these fronts.

I ended up with The Neurons playing “Addicted to Love” in the morning mental music stream. It arose from thoughts that Trump is addicted to hate, and his base are addicted to him. I always enjoy the Night of the Proms series so I was pleased to find this video to present.

Hope your life finds you moving forward, healthy, happy, and safe.

Cheers

0

Saturday’s Theme Music – Round and Round

Ashland, Oregon — Saturday March 21, 2026.

56 F, spring is holding on against a late winter effort. Today’s sky favors heavy cloud blanketing and pots of sunshine. Blue has been shouldered out of the scene. Our high will tap the low sixties and tomorrow is supposedly going down into the 30s at night.

Round and round is going round my head. I began writing about the news. It became so Trumpcentric, I split it off.

I’m also going round and round with health matters. It’s bizarre to me because I feel pretty damn good. Could lose a few more pounds, and if you’re giving out miracles, put some hair back on my head.

They found a mass in my bladder yesterday. Not big, something like 2cm. We’ll check it out next week, see what it is, deal with it. The CT scan said liver, intestines, spleen, pancreas, appendix all look good. No loose fluid. Kidneys are intact and the right one has come calculi. The summary says all those things look just like they did in the 2021 scans, when kidney stones advanced out of my left kidney. Oh, what a night.

Everything with Mom is going round and round. The tale is familiar and old. Mom seems happy, enjoying others’ company, goes silent with all. All seems well. Then WHAMO. We’re bowled over by unexpected news and then wait for updates. Mom is being very cagey. We’re letting the assisted living home and county adult social services run the show.

So round we go, weather, health, Mom, Trump. The Neurons have blessed me with “You Spin Me Round” by Dead or Alive in the morning mental music stream. The song’s sentiment is about seeing and wanting someone. The disco beat just has me hooked on the idea that things keep me going round like a record.

Amusing: do the children know what it means to go round like a record?

Probably as much as I knew about ‘going spooning’ or a bicycle built for two.

Going round with a cup of coffee now. Hope your day goes well and peace and grace came around.

Cheers

4

Friday’s Theme Music – Wasted

Ashland, Oregon — Friday, March 13, 2026. Ah, Friday the 13th.

I’m surprised that this is considered a day of bad luck. One, because our ancestors thought Friday was a scary day, the scariest of the week.

What? As someone who worked and partied, I always thought Friday was a good day. It was frequently regulated to a quasi half-day. How is that a bad thing?

The ’13’ part comes from the number being perceived as imperfect. “Ancient Romans and later European traditions also treated 13 as a break in the natural order, contrasting it with the “complete” number 12 (months, zodiac signs, apostles).”

Well, that’s kind of funny and arbitrary. The months are divided into different lengths — 28 (or maybe 29), 30, and 31 days. That seems imperfect. But there’s a ‘perfect’ set of twelve of them.

Yet, we only have two each of limbs, eyes, ears, legs. Just one mouth. Guess we’re not perfect or we’d have twelve of each.

It’s all so silly. That’s why I trust my lucky underwear, my lucky pen, and three beeps on the microwave. They’re proven to bring good fortune. I’d loan you my underwear but it’s just my bad luck that they need washed.

Today finds us cloudy but pleasantly warmish and coolish outside, with sun and blue sky playing peek-a-boo with the clouds. 46 F now, a high in the mid 60s is anticipated.

Quiet continues on the Mom front, and the news shows war, violence, chaos. Thanks, Mr. Trump. It feels like it was an unlucky day when you were elected — both times.

Today’s music is “Wasted on the Way”. The Neurons slipped the Crosby, Stills, Nash song into the morning mental music stream when I was thinking about how Trump wastes the world.

Lives are being wasted by Trump’s hate, biases, indifference. Opportunities wasted by his greed and ego. He’s creating a wasted world, ignoring warnings about climate change, starting wars that destabilize the diplomatic order, breaking agreements which fracture the business world, raising havoc and prices.

Then he tells us it’s all going great.

The biggest question on my mind for the peace president, unifier, and founder of the Board of Peace is, when will Trump stop the bombing and killing that he started, so that others can begin picking up the pieces and putting things back together?

I hope this day isn’t a waste for you. May peace and grace find and keep you.

Cheers

2

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑