Is it Just Me? (women only)

Or is it hot in here?

The other day, I saw a post by NPR on Facebook.  I don’t remember the exact question, but it was something like, “Do you know what menopause is and did your mother ever tell you about it.”

I posted a small response to that which I’ll share at the risk of rousing not-so-nice feelings, memories, fears or responses.  I simply described what my mother described to me of her memories of her grandmother going through the change.  This, unfortunately, until I started dealing with it myself, was the only education I got.

“She sat at the dinner table, arms out-stretched and her fingers were spread wide, barely touching the table.  We watched in silence as she began to turn red, starting from the neck up.  She began to glisten.  We knew not to say a word, lest we get our heads bitten off.

Today, I understand that all too well, and my husband dare not say a word.”

Ever since I posted that I have been having hot flashes every half hour.  In fact, I need to walk away from the keyboard for a few minutes… I’ll be right back.


Phew.  Cold bottle of water on the back of my neck.  Tissue to blot my face, under the eyes at the hairline and down around the neck.  Oh and in the crook of my elbow.

They tell me this too shall pass.

For at least a half hour.


The Things that Make Me Happy

Sipping hot coffee at the break of day.

Finishing the crossword puzzle, come what may.

Conducting Mozart with a wooden spoon.

Strumming my guitar, an old Bee Gees tune.

Listening to music, be it jazz or big band.

Watching my daughter lend a helping hand.

Or watching her paint another masterpiece,

While taking fried eggplant out of the grease,

Or frosting the top of a chocolate cake,

While my son asks me, what else did I bake?

Watching him chase down another fly ball…

Or discussing the Matrix, Plato and all.

Eating my mom’s cheesecake, though already full.

Talking the stock market, bear or bull.

Sharing bad jokes and memories of life.

And most important of all, being his wife.

That’s My Girl

Just when I think my patience is spent,

And I have no more strength to abide,

Her demands and her mood swings never relent,

Then she shows me her softer side.

Not a lot different from other teens,

Her room is a mess, her music loud.

She’ll speak in a language—don’t know what she means,

Then she’ll do something to make me proud.

She talks about music, running and boys,

Waffling from elation to despair.

Make-up and warm-ups have replaced other toys,

But her life, she’s still willing to share.

She’s so busy, she’s always gone in a flash.

Seems our relationships’s always on the mend.

We misunderstand, we bicker, we clash,

The she tells me I’m her best friend.

My fondest hope is to keep it that way.

She is truly the light of my life.

I’ll hold on to her, as long as I may,

Until she becomes some lucky man’s wife.

Her father will tell her to “be who you are,”

“And everything will work out in the end.”

“Just be Maddy,” he says, “and you’ll go far.”

Maddy, my daughter, my friend.

Who Am I?

I never thought I would actually admit this, but I have no idea who I am.

I know what I am… An empty-nester, a middle-aged woman (and being menopausal, it makes all of this that much harder to comprehend), a wife, and an unemployed fund-raiser. I am likely soon to become a caretaker, as my mother will be 80 in three weeks, and while she isn’t failing, I know that is in her future.  (Hopefully for her, not in her near future.)

I stand at the edge of a new chapter in my life, having had a wealth of life experience to draw on, but I still don’t really know WHO I am.  I’ve played so many roles in my life I should have been nominated, at least once, for an academy award.  I think that’s the reason I wanted to start blogging.  I wanted to reflect back on some of my “performances,” and hopefully be able to relate to or at least touch somebody out there…

Please join me as I turn the pages back and forward on my journey of discovery!