I have a blog—Sandra Heska King. I started writing there in July 2009. I haven’t written there since June 2020, and that was just a teaser for a Pandemic Journal piece that appeared at Tweetspeak Poetry.
For a lot of reasons not writing has become my norm since then. Well, not writing for public consumption has become my norm. Partly because a lot of my energy has been consumed by a major and slow-moving home renovation, having no place to call my own, books and papers scattered to the four winds of house and garage, and other reasons and excuses.
At any rate, it seems like all (well, a lot of) the big kids are playing in this sandbox now. I thought I’d see if there was a little room for a few more words from someone whose toys are a little rusty.
I turned 74 this year. I always need to subtract my birth year from the current year to figure out how old I really am. And sometimes I get it wrong because math is not my thing. We recently had a garage sale, and I counted a $29 profit. D recounted. We actually made $330.
I think I should be smarter by now. Sometimes when I listen to some commentators on news programs or some in leadership, I wonder how they can seem so smart and how they speak so eloquently. I could be their parent, but in my head I feel like I’m still in junior high. I wish I was wiser when raising my own kids. Luckily, even they’ve turned out to be wiser than I am. Yet like Luci Shaw writes in Adventure of Ascent: Field Notes from a Lifelong Journey, “I’m feeling some release from my unrealistic expectations of myself.” It is what it is, and what is now is now, and it is enough, and I am enough. And I’m still counting on more years to grow—maybe even another 29.
I’ve forgotten way more than I can remember, and I have age spots, and the sun exposes the rivers on my forearms and the backs of my hands. My upper arms do the shimmy, my knees sometimes slip, extra pounds are harder to lose, and I can’t do a headstand anymore—something I may try again someday when D is here to support me. Or not.
Speaking of Luci—I love Luci. She was born just two days before my mother. I think Mom would have loved her, too. I wish I could spend some extended time with her. Anyway, I got to meet her once at a Festival of Faith & Writing at Calvin College. She autographed my copy of the above book: “For Sandy, On the Great Adventure!” Luci quotes Emerson who said, “People do not grow old. When they cease to grow they become old.”
As I’m working my way back into stringing a few words, I’m turning to Marilyn McEntyre’s Make a List: How a Simple Practice Can Change Our Lives and Open Our Hearts. I thought about some of the things I’ve done or accomplished in the last ten years since becoming what some would call an official senior citizen—and supposedly past my prime.
In the Last Ten Years …
1. I went on four mission trips to Haiti. I would have taken my oldest grand girl on a fifth—except we were in the process of moving.
2. I went to the Dominican Republic as a blogger on a Compassion International sponsor tour.
3. D and I celebrated our 50th wedding anniversary with a trip to Israel last year—and plan to return in the spring.
4. I completed two 5K runs. One was a color run for cancer in northern Michigan—dressed as a rabbit. It was about 9 degrees. The other was with our church in South Florida where I earned a 3rd place medal. There were four of us in our age category. It was warmer than 9 degrees. Also, both events involved both walking and kinda running on my part.
5. I’ve taken Celtic harp lessons and ultimately bought three harps—Papa Bear, Mama Bear, and Baby Bear. Also known as Arthur, Blossom, and Sunshine Hope. I recently also bought a handpan (so far unnamed) and a digital piano. I’m still trying to become musically proficient at something.
6. We moved out of D’s 150-year-old family farmhouse on 50 acres in Michigan to a Lego size house on a Lego size lot on a Lego size lake in South Florida in a neighborhood on the edge of the Northern Everglades. It was a job transfer, not a retirement move. And yes, my husband is still working. We also experienced a major hurricane—Irma, name now retired.
7. We bought a pair of kayaks after a trip to Drummond Island, and we brought them to Florida. We’ve kayaked down a canoe “trail” hemmed by alligators sunning on either side—and survived.
8. We’ve ridden our bikes down the nearby levee and the Shark Valley Bike Trail in Everglades National park. That trail was also hemmed by alligators. I overestimated my abilities on a 15-mile bike ride for charity and had to drop out, though D was easily able to complete it. But I tried. That counts, right?
9. I memorized T.S. Eliot’s The Love Song of J Alfred Prufock—the whole thing—on a dare from Tweetspeak Poetry. I’ve memorized some other poems, too.
10. We took a trip to the Southwest USA last month and visited several national parks. We hiked high and low, on trails both narrow and wide, clambered over rocks, and went from six layers of clothes in Zion to one layer in Death Valley.
So, if I could live for another 29 years, and if my math is correct, that would make me 103, and there could be lots of adventures ahead. Maybe I could even triple this list before heading off to the final adventure. I think I can live with that.
”Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” ~ Psalm 90:12
Still counting,
Sandy
Hi Sandra! I so loved reading this! In fact, I read it twice! To my husband as well.. who is still working. He loved it and is inspired to explore together as we age. We are in our early 60's and he has been an extremely hard working industrial electrician for 40 years. I look at his hands and marvel at how he continues to play music and road cycle. I love seeing the humor and hope of adventure in your words and images. Beautiful! The alligators though 😮. You are brave!!! Your harps and their names!! ❤️ My body, knees the same, I say keep going! God is never done with us! 🙌🏻
I began a Substack in heavy grieving, writing for life as I say, one year ago 6/1. It was a God push, and although not a writer, yet an accomplished photographer, it has helped me heal.
Can't wait to read more! God keep you & D!
deb
You are awesome!!!! And I’m so jealous you are going back to Israel. I’m turning 73 this year - this week actually, and though I feel much younger than 73 in my head, my body isn’t as cooperative.
I’ve entertained moving over to substack, as well. I stopped blogging when life got (more) complicated for us. Just don’t know where to start.