Month: June 2026

I have just surpassed volunteering over 13,000 hours at Rocky Mountain National Park in the 12 years I have lived here. My career in retirement is volunteering. I am delighted to have this part-time “job.” I am privileged to have the means to spend hours everyday volunteering as a way to contribute in my remaining years.

This volunteering is a labor of love. I do it out of personal passion and enjoyment, rather than for financial compensation or external praise. Something a person willingly works hard at without being paid is a labor of love. Labors of love occur in many ways and benefit oneself or other people. Some friends are actively engaged in taking care of grandchildren. Others have creative hobbies that they do for fun even though sometimes the projects are marketable. Others are involved in promoting community causes.

“Service to others is the rent you pay for your room here on earth” noted Muhammad Ali. I met an individual years ago who told me he would never do something in the community if he didn’t get paid for it. I pitied that person and hope that he has changed his mind over the years. Nevertheless, I know that I do not do things for others unless I feel some intrinsic reward that matters to me. I am not altruistic. I believe good deeds always come back positively to the doer.

Even if the service requires significant physical or mental effort, my primary reward is personal satisfaction. My work in the park is motivated by my deep interest and love for natural environments. Believing that I make a difference carries me forward. I also admit that volunteering is my means for social interaction. It helps me feel needed with others who share a purpose. Volunteering negates feels of isolation for me.

I keep track of my volunteer hours for the park service because reporting volunteer hours is tangible and of value in making a case for this organization. Doing things that do not receive recording are really labors of love. For example, I have proclaimed myself the murderer of invasive weeds in my neighborhood. After years of slaying the weeds, I am beginning to see the results. My pursuits are not selfless as I walk in these areas every day and delight in seeing wildflowers rather than the noxious weeds that can take over.

Labors of love vary from individual to individual. I am grateful for all the opportunities I have in my community.

“I haven’t laughed so hard for a long time” is a phrase that I love to say. Laughing in all its manifestations can be a wonderful gift. I have been fortunate recently to recognize how much I enjoy laughter with good friends. Humor is a powerful tool available each day. I do not want to take for granted the opportunities to enjoy laughter alone and/or with others.

Bob Hope noted, “I have seen what a laugh can do. It can transform almost unbearable tears into something bearable, even hopeful.” Research tells us that laughter and humor can reduce stress hormones, boost immune function, ease physical pain, and improve overall mood. On a social level, sharing a good laugh strengthens relationships and fosters trust. A good belly laugh stimulates the brain to produce endorphins as the body’s natural painkiller.

Chuckles as well as belly laughs are all part of a laughter continuum. I confess that I am addicted to cat videos and especially enjoy singing cats. They amuse me and make me smile and/or giggle and for a moment take my mind off any tribulations that I might be facing in my life. A belly laugh is a loud, deep, hearty expression of joy and humor. Belly laughs are most often shared with friends and the very act of laughing together is reason to laugh more!

Everyone has a different perception of what is humorous. I am not a fan of slapstick, which is usually exaggerated at the expense of others. I enjoy dry humor delivered straight-faced and in a matter-of-fact manner. I am not a fan of dark/black humor as it usually strikes me as grim or morbid. Laughing at grim things is not funny to me. I like satire and see it frequently mocking or criticizing social issues and politics. I do love wordplay and puns as well as one-liners.

I don’t enjoy humor that is derogatory. For example, birthday greeting cards often refer to sexist or agist humor. Although that can be funny, I prefer to offer greetings that build people up and do not make fun of the aging process. I know some people think I am stodgy about this attitude, but it makes the most sense to me.

I need opportunities to laugh in this world that often seems absurd. Laughter is good medicine. I agree with Charlie Chaplin, “A day without laughter is a day wasted.”

Visiting new places, whether in the US or elsewhere, as well as living in a small community opens my eyes to the breadth of creation. The recent photos of the earth and the words of the astronaut, Christina Koch, emphasized my understanding of an environment bigger than me, “a group bound by shared purpose, sacrifice, grace, and accountability, urging humanity to act as one.”

The words of Joyce Vance also help me feel positive each day. She always concludes her analyses with, “we’re in this together.”  What happens anywhere has an impact on me.

At a recent writing workshop, the instructor made a casual comment that stuck with me. She said, “In life, you can’t do anything by yourself, not even eat.”

The idea provoked my thinking about how I might eat alone. Food, regardless of what it is was grown, harvested, and transported to me by others. I also recognize that my involvement in a community garden means that I am never alone in growing and harvesting the vegetables.

Recently I have had friends with health issues. They have required drivers for doctor appointments as well as the need for emotional support. I am glad to be able to help. I have also recognized how difficult it sometimes is to ask for help even though most all people want to be “helpers.” Fred Rogers’ famous “helper” statement always inspires me, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping,” is so true.

I had shoulder surgery to repair a torn rotator cuff several years ago. I could not drive for three weeks. One of the feel-good moments of my life was when one of my neighbors remarked to me, “You sure have a lot of friends helping you out.” That statement was a profound compliment.

Aging literature suggests that social relationships are at the heart of healthy living. As more of an introvert than extrovert, I sometimes do not feel like being around others. I force myself to go to social events because I know it is good for me. I know, however, that this contact is essential to my longevity. I am fortunate to live in a community where I know people from various like-minded associations, and I embrace the idea that I cannot do anything by myself.

Gitch and I reflected on our lives since Mog passed away a year ago.

Gitch: It has been over 365 sleeps since Mog left us. I never really understood what happened although Mog confided in me that she thought she wasn’t always feeling good. She waited until mom came home from her vacation and then her soul left her furry body. I am now an only cat. I am adjusting.

Karla: Both Gitch and I miss Mog. Since she left, Gitch has my whole heart. Although they were litter mates, they had vastly different personalities. Mog was a cuddler who wanted to be close to me as much as possible. Gitch was more aloof and tolerated gentle pats on his terms. After Mog, things changed.

Gitch: I always thought mom and Mog had a special connection—maybe because mom chose her first. It was all fine with me. I knew that mom loved me and would do anything for me as evidenced when she rushed me to the pet emergency hospital for surgery and four days of hospitalization. She warned me that I might have to get a job to pay the medical bills, but that never happened. After Mog left, however, I was not sure of how to react.

Karla: Gitch has changed over the past year. He has, perhaps, had a change of heart, or he just wants to ease my pain from Mog’s death. It is now his chance to show me he appreciates me. Mog used to sit on my lap when I watched TV or read in the evenings. Now Gitch does that.

Gitch: Mog always slept on the bed when she was alive. I slept wherever I wanted-sometimes on the couch in the living room, sometimes at the far end of the bed. Since Mog is no longer here to protect mom through the night, it is my job. I now sit with her when she reads. I sleep at mid-bed so I can hear her breathing. I move as she moves during the night.

Karla: I find great comfort in having Gitch nearby. I feel a little guilty sometimes that I am not home more since I am off volunteering or being social, but Gitch seems to enjoy his long naps.

Gitch: Napping is good and I am always glad when she returns each day. Mom talks to me all the time. I listen and sometimes respond. She needs reassurance. I hope my warm gazes let her know that I support whatever she is thinking. I am not sure how much she listens to me when I meow. She sometimes says, “I know, I know” but does she really? I believe she does. I am a lucky kitty.

Karla: I am a lucky cat mom.