Month: January 2025

“Oh, shoot, what was her name?” I am not sure I say things like this any more these days than I have in the past, but it feels that way. I think about memory loss and dementia more often as I encounter my contemporaries questioning some of their circumstances. As I get older, I am wondering about what a personal journey with mental decline might mean for me.

I have good genes relative to the potential for memory loss. My paternal grandmother had significant memory issues, although I am not sure it was diagnosed with a label. Although my other grandparents lived into their 70’s, I recall more physical than cognitive issues. Memory problems for my parents only happened related to other health issues as they reached their 90s. I feel lucky.

On the other hand, I am aware of the possibilities of losing mental sharpness when I cannot recall a word or name that I think I should know. As baby boomers age, I notice a myriad of references to dementia and its progression and treatment. Dementia is a common worry, and, like others, I fear the uncertainty of losing memories and the ability to connect with others.

Dementia has stages from mild to severe. The timeline and symptoms vary for everyone. My fears are normal and not overwhelming. Every time, however, that I cannot immediately recall something, I wonder if I am in decline. I remain calm by telling myself that I am overthinking this situation, just as I tell myself when I overreact about other health issues. My friend says it is not my memory but the indexing in my brain. I have so much information there that it just takes a while to find it. I hope that is the case!!

Nevertheless, I focus on being proactive to maintain my brain health. I have always been a “self-help” junkie and read regularly about how to maintain a healthy lifestyle. Being physically healthy in general empowers cognitive abilities. I exercise every day. I “bathe” in the forest. I try to eat healthy foods. I drink alcohol infrequently. I do word puzzles every day. I volunteer so I can have a purpose in life. I value and try to nurture my friendships. I express gratitude each day for all the advantages I have. That all seems like a good prescription for living in general.

I cannot control what lies ahead relative to the likelihood of my physical or cognitive declines. I can strive to retain my health and support my friends who are also experiencing these concerns.

I meet people in my life with whom I feel an immediate connection. These folks indicate a shared history and values. People who share common interests, values, or worldviews might be described as kindred spirits. These friends and acquaintances resonate with me because of the energy related to our common life experiences. We often share the same quirks, and sense of humor.

I feel at peace with kindred spirits. I know they understand me. For example, I feel kindred with other volunteers in the park because we are committed to facilitating great experiences for people in the park. People who love cats like I do are kindred spirits to me. Whenever I meet someone from Iowa, I feel a tie to a Midwestern upbringing.

I have experienced kinship ties with many people over the past 75 years. Time with these kindred spirits brings me in touch with what is important to me. In a sense, I see myself better when reflected in a kindred spirit. They also provide assurance to me that I am not alone as I pursue my passions and purpose. These relationships, sometimes fleeting and sometimes long-term, comfort me.

Sometimes I feel an immediate connection with someone. When I see that we share similar experiences such as being Iowa State alums or marathon runners, I know I am with my people. It feels like I know that person (at least a part of them) immediately. They “get” me.

I am particularly cognizant of kindred spirits as I navigate my fears about the directions of my country. Networks of like-minded people are necessary. Connection with kindred spirits is especially important to me this week. These relationships give me knowledge, courage, and commitment that can lead to potential change.

Kindred spirits are different from soul mates. Kindred spirits share common values as do soulmates. However, as I understand soulmates, they are intertwined with everyday life and have an ongoing influence. Connections with kindred spirits may be fleeting, and that makes them special.

I look forward to those moments when I feel kindred connections. As Charles Schultz suggested, “In life, it’s not where you go, it’s who you travel with.”

We had a horse on our farm when I was growing up. She was not an endearing animal. I respect horses, but they have not been consequential in my life. I have never had a good equine relationship. Recently, however, my appreciation for horses has expanded.

The “One Book, One Valley” nomination this year in Estes Park was The Ride of Her Life: The True Story of a Woman, Her Horse, and Their Last-Chance Journey Across America. I fell in love with the two horses that are integral to the story. I felt the connection the author described and the sorrow when one of the horses died.

I was not sad, however, when our farm horse passed. Betty was a gray appaloosa cross who really hated riders. My dad had to catch her for me as she was not cooperative about the prospect of a rider. We never had a saddle for her, so I always rode bareback. My dad said that it made me a better equestrian because I did not rely on a saddle to stay on her back. She would reluctantly trot and when she sensed we were headed back home, she would break into a full gallop. Betty was always in control. I never felt any bond, and I know that was what she wanted.

Nevertheless, I admire people like my friends Deb (see photo) and Chris who have had intimate relationships with horses. Horses have been unique in human history and culture. Their strength, grace, and intelligence are revered in the work they have done as well as the pleasure they provide for people. Before modern machinery, my grandfather used to talk about their role in agriculture as well as in moving around.

I am learning that what may set horses apart from some other animals is their deep unions with humans. Although I have never experienced it, people tell me that horses are intuitive creatures capable of reading human emotions through cues like tone of voice and body language. Horses capture humans because of their strength and nobility.

I doubt I will ever have such an inclination toward horses, but I appreciate them more because of reading this book. I am glad they hold a special place in the hearts of my good friends.

I see my mom every time I look into a mirror. We resemble each other increasingly as I age. I think about my mom every day. Since she passed almost six years ago, she guides me from above.

Most children hold an extraordinary place in their hearts for their mothers. A mother’s love influences and shapes who we are. One of the profound reasons my mother, and most mothers, are special is because of unconditional love. From the moment I was born, my mother’s love provided comfort and security from childhood to the turbulent years of adolescence and beyond. Through her patience and sacrifice, my mother showed me how to care for others and navigate the complexities of life.

I am grateful for the almost 70 years that I had with mom. As true with most mother-daughter relationships, it was not always perfect. The older I got and the older she got, however, the more we appreciated each other. I realized the role model she represented. I am a better person from what I learned from her. I am also aware that she was not flawless, and I give myself grace in that regard as we all face our journeys by doing the best we can do.

Seeing the changes that came with the deteriorating health of my mom in her later years was not easy. Although I have loving images of my mother in her declining years, I most want to remember the times when she was vibrant and healthy.

Many of my friends no longer have their mothers in their physical lives. Other friends, however, are fortunate to continue to share themselves with an earthly mom. After my mom passed, my good friend Deb let me share her mom as my MOE—Mother on Earth. Unfortunately, this MOE passed several months ago. When I interact with any person who is old enough to be my mom, I look for the connection I might get from a MOE.

Although my mom is no longer here, her heavenly presence is a source of comfort. I wish I could tell her one more time about my deep gratitude and respect for her unconditional love.

With the new year, I am buoyed by the hope of hope. “Hope isn’t always loud and obvious. Sometimes hope is a tiny, fragile thing. Something warm you hold in your heart and tend to so it can grow.”

I have been in a state of mourning for almost two months. Hope has been elusive. As I understand grief and loss, the feelings of bereavement may never go away but will become less frequent and less disconcerting. Hope is the antidote to the sadness I feel.

I have appreciated knowing the stages of grief described by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross (1969) in her book On Death and Dying. The stages are Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. When someone loses a relationship or a job, they often feel a loss of identity. Although I have not focused directly on politics in this blog, I cannot ignore the feelings that I now have. The United States I envisioned has disappeared. Therefore, as Howard Zinn encouraged, I am looking for strength and faith to do what I can to shape the world I want in the coming new year. I also remind myself that human history is not only about cruelty, but also about compassion, courage, and kindness.

Articulating the stages has helped me understand my feelings. I am aware that these do not apply to everything and don’t happen in order. For example, denial relates to difficulty I have had in understanding why politics have gone as they have. Anger continues to surface for me. Depression has been my most prominent feeling. I vacillate between feeling directionless and thinking things will someday be OK.

Painting by Albert Bierstadt

The final stage of grief is acceptance– learning to live with a loss, learning to live with hope—darkness AND light. Anne Lamott in a recent article described how Albert Bierstadt used both light and dark to make his paintings of mountains dynamic. In 2025 I want to continue to love others, and work to change what I can toward justice in my communities. I am seeking to spend time with those people who are good and kind, and to continue to do what I can in my universe to make it a better place to live. In 2025 I will live with darkness and act with the hopefulness of spinning the world in a light-filled direction.

Happy New 2025!