Beautiful Gray Hair.

I see myself walking around all over the place. I have more time to do so with public and other activities winding down. Though birds watching takes a certain percentage of my waking hours, I see more and more “me”s walking by. These folks are not always of the male type, after all gray hair is everywhere, these days. Many of these people in their last stage in life twiddle their thumbs and fiddle with their half empty paper coffee cup at the local rest stop. At least these men and women get out of the house. Just imagine the number having given up on searching for connection away from the silent telephones. Staring out of the home window seems more passive than doing so at the corner coffee house. Oh yeah, now we - all of us, have portable electronics to play “busy” with. Some folks are staring at a screen or are they having deep thoughts? After the bottom of the cup has long been reached and sitting becomes a bit too uncomfortable “we” get up, struggle with the zipper of our jackets and then walk out with that look that doesn’t have “destination” or “purpose” written on it. “We” take a ride or just walk home and have a meaningful conversation with the cat, the first real conversation in about an hour. Well, maybe I am strictly speaking for myself, but I don’t think so. Working with volunteer organizations like Friendship Trays gives me the inkling that there are an awful lot of lonely, aimless folks out there. People hidden from the every day life. Slowly ebbing away from the public scene. At least I can look forward to a 2 o’clock meeting and a bus load of house guests this week-end. In the mean time, I wonder what the future will hold for the aging generation other than plenty of doctor’s visits and no-interaction TV shows.

How ARE we going to stay in touch with those who have truly busy days and work hard to make a living. Even our kids seem to fade from the scene. Do you have any suggestions?

A recurring thought!

Life in these Unites States is good so long as you can keep the medical aspect of life here at a safe distant. As soon as the medical world takes hold of one's life here life may very well become intolerable. That doesn't imply that my doctor(s) intentionally want(s) to make my life miserable, but the chances that such will happen are overwhelmingly distinct.

I am a content individual and my life is good, and before that picture changes for good, I feel that I should be able to say "Good-bye" in my own way, when I think that time has come. No reason at that point to postpone my departure.

How does this scenario strike you? Y'all have an opinion. After all you have an opinion on most everything else I discuss with all of you.

So, if you are even remotely on "my" page, what action would you suggest? Maybe you STILL do not want to talk about the subject. In The Netherlands several books have been written on the subject as a result of actions taken by family members, friends and neighbors of people who took the step to end their lives while it was still good.

Is there a universal scenario? No, but where are you on the subject of "Ending a life completed"?

Lonely vs Alone

What is it like to be lonely?

To be lonely is to look at a room full of furniture and full of silence, to walk to a restaurant by myself and sit at the bar, because sitting at a table for four seems silly! So, when asked: “How many?” I respond by pointing at the bar and tell the host that I’ll like a menu.

To be lonely is talking to myself and rationalizing that I am not the only one, that it is normal and that being with another person may not be so hot either.

To feel lonely may take me out of the house and take the car and drive to a place where I can look busy with a book and not look lonely. Or I can walk to the nearby coffee house with my computer, sip the tea from a paper cup and check my e-mail in hope for news I can lose myself in and believe for a moment that I am connected.

Cooking for one is an awkward exercise and consequently, when I do, I make soup for days.

I wonder whether, when lonely, I experience a form of depression. Until further proof, I don’t think that I am a depressed type individual. It may well be that I create ambiance and interesting ideas, which lead me on a path of “I wonder ... “.

Alone is different and can be O.K.

At night, alone, my bed gives me plenty of comfort, and when I drive my trusty Subaru direction Asheville all alone to visit with my son and grandson, the trip is smooth and full of tales, hypothetical discussions and observations, which may cause me to stop and take a photograph of the object or scenery.

See, I do believe that we are always “alone”, but lonely is a state of being, which can be frustrating or a relief. It is rather complicated and I have been working on the significance of these two for years now. I discuss it with others, but still haven’t found a satisfactory answer. Yes, writing about it works well, and then I come suddenly to a stopping point, a point where the thoughts have run their course. Then I can come to the topic later, when the charge is stronger and the urge to express myself real.

One more thought:

I experience my aches, pleasures, excitement and pains alone. I can share some of those with others, but in essence all these are strictly mine alone. Also, proof of me always being “alone” comes to the fore, when I listen to someone, and suddenly I hear myself say: “Let the person speak!” or “listen. Don’t interrupt!” Those are “alone” commands.

So, now I am going to prepare for bed - a neutral place, where dreams take me away. Time to recharge. Bye! - for now.

Exceptional people!

I wonder whether others know 'exceptional people'. Off hand, I can name four, and I am taking a little time this afternoon to figure out what makes these people so extraordinary.

All three are men. They are well informed, well educated - not necessarily college educated, hard working and somewhat shy, especially when I tell them that they are unusual. They are thoughtful and considerate.

And now that I think about it, the “considerate” aspect is an outstanding characteristic. All are socially thoughtful. They are there when one needs their help and input. They don’t throw their weight around. As one of them said: “I am the way I am!” That is, I think one of their secrets. They do not need to pretend to be more than what one sees. All of them are generous, and they love to debate on a variety of subjects, and are willing to consider the validity of a different view point. They speak up when they see an injustice. As a matter of fact, two of them are willing to make a lot of “noise”. These guys are reliable - a promise means something. They all radiate something very special, something hard to describe. Oh yes, all of them are married - lucky women! and I am lucky that I can count on them as my friends.

Being Supportive!

I keep finding out that with retirement comes time to think things over. I spend a lot more time on the political manoeuvering around the world, but that time is mostly wasted energy. What has become a much more thankful past time is paying attention to the people close to me: My son Jaap (the phenomenal pilot), grandson Zeppelin (the incredible musician) and a basically fatherless (formerly neighborhood) boy Bobby, now 36 and living in Florida. Then I have some great family members further “removed” - My brother Burchard and my first cousin - adopted “brother” Roland. Oh well, if I start listing all the people to whom I feel close, the list becomes quite long. Being single makes me focus more on these folks, and now I’d like to tell you this:

While in Amsterdam, I noted some voice mails on my cell phone I couldn’t access due to the absence of a needed code. When I was back in my house, I listened to all these communications:

Bobby - he now prefers to be called “Robert”, left a message in his darkest of voices:

“Hey, I was fired and I am not sure why. I suspect though that the owner needed to give the job to a friend of a friend. Now that I am fired I cannot get Workers Comp. Got another (tire company-) job, but it is much further away. I am broke. Can’t afford to live here. Fortunately, Sandra (his former girl friend) has decided to come back. My kids are understanding, but moving again is hard for them. Their mother is of no help! Just want to talk to you.”

Misery!

I called back and got the whole story in more detail. “So, how can I help?”

“I am calling to get some advice.”

“Do you need some money to make the move possible?”

“No, you have done enough in the past!”

Well - we agreed that a little monetary help would be wonderful to bridge the gap and get the whole family into a smaller, new apartment. I promised to mail the check that afternoon.

I hung up, wrote out a check and mailed it with an encouraging, uplifting note direction Florida. The fun thing of it all is, that due to some “special” economics I could do this.

See, I flew back and forth to The Netherlands economy class with sore knees in the “Exit”-row, thereby saving bucks that I could now nicely spend on a much more needed cause: Robert!

Forgive me, but that felt great.

He called me this morning with a fathers’ day greeting I am saving for a while on my voice mail register. Robert made me aware that frugal living can have great side benefits and it all fell on Fathers Day week-end. The timing was perfect.

Jacob's Garden

This Sunday morning, I walked, armed with leaf rake, clippers and white, transparent plastic bag into the back of my garden, and the older I get, this luscious place is getting bigger every time I have intentions of working on it. I walked all the way to the back and started trimming the brick paths, “miles” of them. After finishing a portion, I gathered the leaves. I was industrious, and didn’t spend time on having profound thoughts.

The first hour was slowly coming to a close and the perspiration started to accumulate at the familiar places. My knees started to hurt and my lower back signaled that “enough is enough!” I took the hint, closed the half filled plastic bag, gathered my tools and headed on “home”!

While I walked back, I looked around and realized for the umpteenth time that this place is very close to Heaven - in more ways than one. Ground ivy as the predominant ground cover, bushes ( I can’t tell you their names), wild, subtly smelling red roses, hundreds of young Hickory Tree shoots and others, plenty of weeds (I trim these, if they start to take over). Weaving through this place, I call Jacob’s Garden are brick and pine needle covered paths. The bricks, 2300 of them, were recovered from a torn down downtown office building many years ago. In the very back is the jewel of this paradise: a green shed with a relatively new roof, but otherwise undisturbed for the passed 20 years. It leans slightly to the left. The doors are kind of crooked, but they open easily and inside are tools mostly belonging to my friend Walter and card board boxes with books my son Jaap left with me many months ago. The ground has never been covered and still has the familiar reddish color.

This place doesn’t require power mowers - there is no lawn to work on. Over the almost 20 years I have enjoyed this space, it has never been watered with a hose or bucket, and the one giant red oak tree right at my back window of my house, has been fertilized only once. So, this can be labeled: a low maintenance and little energy consuming garden.

A voice somewhere tells me:

“Enjoy me the way I am. Pay attention. Work with me, but don’t try to change me ... much! Look at me. From time to time, come see me! Although you look and see, the world unseen within me is huge. So, don’t pretend that you understand me!”

Kind of who I am!

Becoming part of the elite.

I have been around quite a number of years, and throughout this period, I have met people starting small companies. The person started energetically and willing to talk and discuss all aspects of his new found interest. These people were approachable and eager to get together. Their offices were small and their staff limited to two or three people. They handled their own mail and they were willing to sweep the floor. I could tell that they had sleepless nights.

Then started the expected growth and the profits trickled in. The old car with scratches here and there was replaced with a more luxurious model. Why the car first? Well, the prospective customers needed to be impressed. Wife and children were still living in the original apartment. Yes, then came the first move into a roomier house in a pricier neighborhood.

This pattern of growth and expansion continued with some of these (mostly) men. The familiar office became too small, and if I wanted to speak to this "successful" individual, I needed to report to the secretary and make an appointment.

Now, twenty-plus years later, this person seems remote, his secretary shields him from "unwanted" intruders, his voice recorder exudes an air of superiority and mail send to his home address is diverted back to the office so as not to have to "waste" time.

That's what happens to people who become "successful". By virtue of becoming part of the business elite, they become disengaged from everything beneath them. It may not become so intentionally, but it happens, and unless told, they will get lost in the clouds of money and the nouveau riche.