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migratory patterns of the hightailed Rondabird

4/25/2018

More about  aging:
I think a lot about types of fragility!
Everyone realizes that if they make it to their ‘70’s and, then, ‘80’s, they are going to be weaker.
My surprise, is that I am not weaker in some ways, but I am fragile in ways I never expected.
I can walk fast on the street, but I can’t stand up without wobbling, unless I use a cane.
I can talk loud.
I can still type (though many typos), and read even faster than before, and do certain puzzles – I just tear out and throw away any types of puzzles I am not good at, especially what they are called Logic puzzles that have nothing to do with philosophical logic!
But, the fragility is different and unexpected. It is a quavery feeling inside my body or my head where I don’t feel competent and strong, but stupid, silly, and weak!  This is, of course, compounded by senior moments at a rate of 5 a day.
I hate this feeling!  I don’t notice it when I am doing something well such as talking, reading, or doing puzzles, but, since I live alone, these activities don’t take up my whole day!

I try to pray in words such as these:  Dear Jesus, if the only way I will become truly humble and meek is by means of such fragility, let it be.
On the other hand, I find a related happy phenomenon.  One who always hated house-work because it is so material and I like ideas, now I find that I get amazing joy simply out of accomplishing anything physical successfully. So, my line of self-talk all day goes like this:
Oh, Jesus, Mary and Joseph, thank you that I brought the garbage out to the bin in the parking lot; thank you that I made lunch; thank you that I put the dishes in the dish-washer.  Sometimes I sing as I go, following the lead of Mrs. Doubtfire, of movie fame.

Now the big news is that I have decided I am too old to live alone.  When I started a year and a half ago, I had the fantasy that living alone would mean so much more time for prayer that I would be levitating on the ceiling.  Instead I just feel lonely.  But, also, my spiritual director agrees that it is good for 80 plus people to be with family.
My refuge place will be my grand-daughter’s new house rental in Hot Springs, Arkansas, where Sean just got a job teaching geology. They are looking for a rental that has a mother-in-law suite. So in exchange for a big chunk of my pension and social security, they will get me to daily Mass, keep my quarters at 78 degrees, and feed me delicious gourmet healthy meals.  I will do the dishes, baby-sit, and pray constantly, plus, of course, utter sage sayings 12 hours a day!
Those of you who know me personally know that I am not the easiest person to live with, so you could pray that Jenny and Sean will be able to stand me in spite of personality conflicts.
For those who don’t know them, go to goodbooksmedia.com and click on Still a Catholic and read their miraculous story of Sean Hurt’s conversion and Jenny’s reversion to the Catholic faith.
Now, here is one of my fantasies for this time that will begin in August.  Suppose that without my usual book-writing, teaching, and workshop projects, I will mostly be just trying to be an instrument of love, responding lovingly to everything that presents itself?  PRAY FOR ME!!!!!
My last writing project is this blog, so you will still relate to Ronda the Blogger.  And anyone who wants to e-mail me, it will still be [email protected] since I never figured out how to respond to posts on the blog. The  easy method is too costly I am informed.  I am also on WCAT radio on a show called RondaView – click on WCAT Radio and click on Programs and see Sundays 4 PM Central. It also archives older shows for listening any time.

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New Page on Old Age

4/18/2018

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Here are some more thoughts about aging:

When I was a child most old people (anyone over 50) I thought of as sitting in rocking chairs on porches. Since I never liked rocking chairs, I didn’t think of them as parts of my own old age, even when it was upon me.
However, of late, I understand this better. Having been a work-a-holic most of my life, I now, as a retired person, when I sit outside my apartment dwelling waiting for rides I find it wonderful just to watch the goings-on around me, such as…
Across the wide Ocean Front street a company is fixing up a large house.  Every time I am out waiting for my ride I can watch their progress painting a long wall that guards the mansion from marauders.
I  like to gaze at the palm trees in the island between lanes on this same street.  The first time I saw palm trees when we lived in California I thought they were kind of silly compared to the great oaks of the Eastern country-side. But staring at them now I have come to see the charm of the wide palms blowing in the wind above the thin, thin, trunk.
Watching workers fixing a dam that was broken during the recent hurricane, I am fascinated to think what must be in the minds of these tough looking men whose daily tasks are so different than mine were in academe.
I like to read novels, autobiographies, and biographies about people who lived through WWI and WWII. It seems to me that I am wanting to take, as it were, a God’s  eye view of  history, before I leave this world.

Pet Peeve!
I have come to hate the word “just.”  Not, of course, when it is about justice, but in the slangy perpetual form of:
“Now, Ronda, it’s simple…JUST click on this, followed by that, followed by that, followed by that…and you will arrive at your goal on your nifty computer.”
Yeah, sure!  I added up 10 steps, most of which include references to things on the screen I have never touched, ever, ever, ever, and you pretend this is simple!!!!
“Now, Ronda, JUST follow the directions on the can, it’s simple.”
Yeah, sure! The directions are in tiny unreadable print. With my old weak hands I can’t push down hard enough to release the top of the can.”
“Now, Ronda, to take a cat on the airplane isn’t that hard. JUST get sleeping meds for the cat from the vet, and put the cat in a carrier.”
Yeah, sure!  I don’t drive. So, to get to the vet I have to ask one of  my wonderful, benevolent volunteer drivers to waste a whole morning schlepping me to the vet, and then, since cat’s don’t have medicare, paying a fee just to get a tiny jar of liquid sleeping meds…and then try to keep the cat still while holding open its fierce jaws, to pour these meds down her throat…and try to fit me, my carry-on-bag, and the cat carrier into a wheel chair where sometimes the wheel-chair attendants JUST don’t show up…”

The rage at how knowledgeable, practical people, younger people try to cajole me into accepting impossible tasks leads, of course, to Confession once a week for yelling at the very dear people who are trying to help me!
Deep sigh!
What do you suggest I should JUST do in such situations????

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Staging AGING

4/12/2018

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I want to devote these blogs to thoughts about aging.
One of the things I notice, since retirement, is that having much more time, I also obsess about trifles, much, much, much more.

Remedies include these:
Deliverance prayer such as “I rebuke the spirit of excessive anxiety about whether to sweep the floor, or check the web news, and lay it at your feet, dear Jesus, take it away."
Or,
With more important but relatively trifling things: “I surrender to you, Jesus, my future on earth, whether it be lived in this place or another place.”
Jesus tells me to stop dog paddling in the waves of life and let Him float me to the shore of eternity.

And, that what counts at this time of life is not what I do each day, or plan for tomorrow on earth, but only to be closer to Him, so I can be a greater instrument of love to everyone I encounter.
On a more natural level, I do better when I stop and appreciate in detail every good sensory phenomenon on my horizon such as the orange fur of my cat, or a beautiful  melody in a song.
These sensory experiences are a balance to a long life of professional philosophical analysis as a professor and writer
My family has a chat where we put up quick silly limerick type poems.
I put up this:

81 Year Old Hag’s Song
Flee, flee, flee,
to the bosom
of the family;
to the bosom of those
who without me wouldn’t be?

Where plentiful delicious
food and drink
there be,
and also tender care of
me!!

But bosom rhymes
a bit with thumb!
Under whose thumbs
do I really want to be?

Ah, take the joy,
the pain,
the love,
and,
eventually,
I, Jesus,
will take you
to the Trinity!

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BACK AGAIN!

4/4/2018

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OUR ABDUCTED DOCTOR HAS AT LAST BEEN FOUND!
NOW BACK ABOVE GROUND, UN-GAGGED AND UN-BOUND,
THE TREASURE-TROVE THOUGHTS SHE WILL FREELY EXPOUND
WILL PROVE MORE THAN BEFORE TO BE RICHLY PROFOUND.

Six months ago I put my Blog, RondaView, on hiatus. I was feeling tired of my own thoughts.
This one will be written during each week and put up on Fridays. The web-master says that there are wonderful old entries on RondaView you might like to check out if you are a newcomer.
Let me begin this new start with an account of “where I am at.”
After the hiatus I am still in beautiful warm Corpus Christi, Texas, at a wonderful parish I have described before. I volunteer some in the office and setting up Adoration. At 80 I like to do small things that are easy and that help good places.
Since my last blog in January, 2017, I went through all my journals of more than 20 years editing them to remove things that might hurt people. Since my autobiography is called En Route to Eternity, written when I was about 55, and at 40 I called myself ½ Way to Eternity, I am calling these journals 6 Toes in Eternity. One of my publishers, En Route Books and Media, has them up for free under the section called Free Downloads. You might find some of the things in 6 Toes in Eternity helpful spiritually; others just funny.
Upcoming on this web, goodbooksmedia, you will find a notice of a new booklet that I started on RondaView before the hiatus: this one is called 9 Toes in Eternity and it consists in what I consider to be my best short thoughts in my whole Catholic life from 21-80! It will become a booklet soon, published by goodbooksmedia with delightful graphics. My hope is that people who like my stuff can have this short, short, booklet to give to friends and family who may not want to read even a small book and, certainly not a long book of mine!
Since arriving in Corpus Christi, January 2017, I wrote a book with Al Hughes, a pastoral counselor and spiritual director, called Escaping Anxiety on the Road to Spiritual Joy. This book came about in this manner. Arriving here in Corpus Christi at age 79, I had become a little better at anger. This was after more than 20 years of anger management with the system of Abraham Low, founder of Recovery, Intl., not 12 step.
However, I found that retirement after some 50 years of teaching was much harder than I thought it would be. When I left teaching at Holy Apostles College and Seminary, I quipped to my last class, “you are the last people who ever have to obey me!”
So, when I arrived in Corpus Christi, Texas, I renewed contact with my old friend Al Hughes, a widower and retired Lieutenant Air Force Colonel. Since being in a writer’s group of mine 15 years ago he had written several books, published by goodbooksmedia. Check them out on this web-site.
Al noticed how anxious I was! Since he is a spiritual director, I asked him to help me. This morphed into a book called Escaping Anxiety on the Road to Spiritual Joy. People who have read it find it very helpful. Check out the description on my web-site www.rondachervin.com under the gyrating link called New Content.
Now, what am I thinking about day by day since the hiatus on this Blog?
Mostly I think about problems of aging in the context of our faith. Even though I wrote a book about the Joys and Sufferings of Aging when I was 60, at 80 there are many other aspects! Any of you who are 80 know that the period between 70 and 80 years old is just as difficult as other famous decades described by such joyful titles as mid-life crisis or sixty’s crisis!
So, I am now thinking that part of my remaining life will be communicating thoughts from my ‘80’s by means of this blog.
Here is an example: There can be quite a long period between being averagely competent and being technically demented! Each new type of senior moment can be startling.
My worst was walking out of my dorm room at the seminary with a poncho not covering my jumper, but only my slip!
But other incidents, now, such as turning on the faucet to fill up the large kitchen sink…walking away…and coming back 15 minutes later to a flood, are also disconcerting.
Then comes all these thoughts about moving to assisted living. But, since one of my favorite mentors quipped that every utopia becomes a gulag, I worry that even Catholic assisted living places could turn out to be disappointing.
Jesus seems to tell me that it doesn’t matter where I live now. What matters is that I let Him draw closer to my heart so that He can prepare me for eternal life. Just hold My hand tighter.
More as I continue to slide down the slippery slope.
By the way, Jim Ridley, my wonderful web-master, does forward to me comments some of you make on the blog-board. I can’t go on by myself to respond to these, but if you very much want to exchange ideas with me, you can write me an e-mail at [email protected]. Often I only write back 1 line or so because, as my favorite sentence goes “I am 80 years old and I no longer can – x, y, or z.” If I wrote a whole book on the subject of your e-mail I will refer you to that book and say, after you read my best thoughts if you have questions, write me again. Why repeat in 3 pages of clumsy sentences what I wrote well 30 years ago???
Let us pray for one another! Yes!

Here is another reflection about old age:
When I was a new convert and age 23, I was brought to see an old dying holy woman. Her name was Marguerite Solbrig and she was the founder of a lay community of whom Dietrich Von Hildebrand, my professor, was the most well-known member.
I only saw her for 10 minutes. There was a bed with covers and all I could see was the face of this woman. Her large brown eyes were glowing with mingled suffering and joy as she looked at me with love.
I will never forget that look.
Now, at an age closer to hers, I am thinking: “We shouldn’t think that our life on earth is over if we can’t do our usual work in the world or and Church. With one look of love, if we truly live in the depth of the heart of Jesus, we could do something intensely meaningful for another person.”

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migratory patterns of the hightailed Rondabird

New Page on Old Age

Staging AGING

BACK AGAIN!

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