Halloween Nightmare

Here it is Halloween, and I don't have the money to purchase the medications that my wife and I need. These aren't recreational drugs; these are prescribed drugs for specific conditions. I used to wonder what older people did when they couldn't afford their medications. Now I know. They don't take them. They do without, and risk their health. Of course I have Medicare Part D, but that doesn't help but a small part of the year. Then you're back to paying retail.

We now live totally on our two Social Security checks. I know that we should've planned better, but we didn't. But that doesn't mean that we're undeserving of a thoughtful, balanced, and affordable health care system, including prescriptions. The politicians of our great nation have failed us miserably as regards health care. Barack Obama says he will change this, and I hope he has the guts to push hard because greedy pharmaceutical companies and greedy doctors will be pushing back by buying more Senators and Representatives.

If we give our mandate to Obama, and it's a mandate we'll need, we then must hold his feet to the fire until we get Universal Health Care in this rich nation. Go out and VOTE! on Tuesday next.

It's That Time Again.

It's late Semptember when it begins, when one feels that first nip of cool weather. Then tree leaves turn red, yellow, orange, brown, oftentimes creating a gloriuosly bright surrounding in which we go about our daily tasks. Even though this is a season of "dying," autumn strikes me as very much alive. The colorful leaves we see every day will soon fall, one by one, to the earth below. The death will have been completed. Until that time, there's a changing, daily show for us, as no tree stays the same. And until this "lying down to rest" is completed, the show will go on.

A phenomenon which is a part of this process for me almost every year is the slight surprise I feel when all the leaves are down. In my busy life, I probably didn't stop to see the kaleidescope of colors, at least as not often as I should have. Then, poof! It's all gone. And we're left with the starkness -- which has its own beauty. But it seems as if one day I'm driving down the street admiring the lovely colors, and the next day I'm looking at bare limbs, limbs being held out to cradle the coming snow.

And soon after, I'll awaken one morning to see the serene beauty brought by the soft, white snow on those stark tree limbs which just a few weeks ago had been blazing with color.

How About the Brother?

How 'bout that brother!? The brother who's so smooth and unflappable in a pressure situation. Yes, the brother, too, who's intelligent and widely read and who walked tall through the doors of two of the finest universities in our nation based only on his own merit, not the merit of his father or grandfather or any other relative. Yes, yes, that brother, the one who's running for President of the United States, our United States, the country that we love so much and want so much good for, the country that's floundering a bit as some of our precious freedoms are being chipped away and not enough good men are saying no. Yes, that brother, the one who's going to take the country back from the greedy men who've been looting our riches as we've slept in our beds at night. Yes, yes, that brother, that good man from Illinois who's going to mend and restore the respect we once held in all parts of the globe and assign competent people to help him. That brother, yes. It's coming soon.

Who Would've Thought It? Certainly Not Me!

My wife and I are now living in senior housing. Though I barely think of myself as a senior, here I am, in senior housing. This is a 23 story building with apartments for ages 55 or over. And I actually like it.

First of all, there's a built-in community. Just walk out of your apartment door! Oh, I know that the true meaning of community is more than just a number of people hanging around together. Community implies commonality. And we have just that. There are activities which tenants can engage in as a group, such as art classes, a far cry from the isolation we endured in Bloomington. There are movie nights, bingo nights, and other things. Hey! Bingo's not lame! It's fun. And finally, there are interdenominational worship services. In our sister building about a block away, one can also attend a 12-step meeting.

A tenant can also have a pet if he or she is so inclinced. As long as the pet has had proper immunizations, it's welcome to join us. At this point in my life, I can't imagine not having a cat, and we do have one whose name is Claudia. Obtained by my wife from a Beverly Hills animal rescuer, she's an affectionate ball of fur whose company we both enjoy.

Although neither of us needs it right now, there's also an assisted living/nursing home connected to our building by an underground tunnel. Since we never know when our health can take a sudden and debillitating turn for the worse, that's some comfort. I feel so grateful right now, as we had had two years of the worst "luck" of our married lives until we moved here. Could it be that our "luck" is turning? Could it be that "fortune" is beginning to smile on us at last? I certainly hope so. We deserve it, no questions asked!

The feelings one has after a long stretch of very difficult problems is a kind of relief that's hard for me to describe. The constant knot in my stomach is gone. The nearly overwhelming fear is gone. I'm much more able to help my wife with any difficulty she might have. The closest I can come to describing it is that it's like getting out of prison. I see sunlight. I feel the breeze. I hear laughter. And I sleep.

It's About Time!

Good Grief! It's been two months almost to the day since I last made entry in my blog, an undertaking I meant to assiduously compile at least once a week. But as they so often do in our irregular lives, something else happened. Actually, somethings else happened. Although it's only about 20 miles from where we used to live, our new digs are light years away from there.

We now live in a building specifically for seniors, in this case, men and women over 55, though there are several who passed 55 during the last millenium. This is an interesting state of being for me, as I never thought much about being a "senior." But I am one. I had my 68th birthday on 9/27/08, but my mind, that magical place inside our skulls, doesn't feel a day over 30.

There are some advantages to living in a place like this. First of all, there's an ongoing community with activities scheduled throughout the week, and the activities are varied enough so that one can find something to interest him or her. On the wall facing the elevators are the works of tenants who've taken advantage of an ongoing art class here. And I must say that some of the work is of high quality, and none of it is bad.

As most young people (when I was one), I had absolutely no concept of aging. Old folks were just there, wrinkly, grousing, spitting, smelly old people. They were hardly people as I viewed them through the selfish lenses of a teen or a twenty-something. They could never have been as young and hopeful and smart as I was. But they had been. Add to that the years and years of experiencing this old world, and you've got yourself a walking, talking history lesson if you'll take the time to ask about someone besides yourself.

Back in the mid-80s, I drove a taxi during the autumn of the year. I was in Florida, which certainly doesn't lack its share of seniors. And I made it a point to ask them about themselves, and they were only happy to reply and tell me of a different, often better, sometimes worse, time. What could I have known about going to theatre on the Broadway of the 30s and 40s? Some of these seniors had seen legends before they became legends, magical names I had only read about. It was always fun to get them to talk about their lives, and they needed only to be asked.

One important aspect of living as we do now is that we have a built-in community, at least as far as people in proximity. Of course, community requires human interaction and activity, and we have that in spades. We are also privy to a monthly newsletter which contains a calendar of events for the month, events varied enough for different tastes and interests. And I've always liked it when I've been in an area long enough for people to recognize my face, possibly even remember my name. This could very well be the last place I live; if it is, that's okay.

We're on the 18th floor of a 23 floor building, and we have a Minneapolis city skyline view, especially pretty as the daylight wanes and the city lights come up. We're very close to the city, which pleases me, as I've always delighted in city life. And I'm giving some thought to developing a course, too, on reading and/or writing poetry. Who knows what kind of fun I could stir up? For a saner person than I, it's difficult to explain just how relieved I feel to have this place to live. I had a terror of winter coming and our not having anywhere to go when the foreclosure on our condo was complete. It's as if a huge boulder was lifted off my shoulders and somebody smiled right at me. I like that.

There's one gross inequity here, however. Isn't that always the case? You think you've found the perfect place and WHAM! There it is. In the basement. A CANDY MACHINE! I'm powerless. . .and I succumb.