Things I Used to Love

THE RAIN:  How I used to love lying in bed and listening to the rain beat on the roof.  Such a comforting sound.  But now I worry there might be a leak and I might need a new roof.   Or that the highway’s underpass I need to take will be flooded because, when they repaved the roads, they forgot to put in drains.

TAKING A WALK/HIKE:  Unless it was snowing or raining, I used to take a walk every single day.  Hot or cold, neighborhood or park district, I was out there, getting my exercise.  But starting last year, something changed.  If it was too cold, no; if it was too windy, no; and if it was hot and sunny, no.  The hot and sunny part came about last year when I was drenched with sweat and panting like a dog.  I know walks are healthy, but I’m going to assume heat prostration isn’t.

As far as hiking, I’m alone.  I’ve hiked in the States, in the UK, in Israel, in New Zealand, in Australia, in Germany.  But I was always with my husband.  Now, I worry about being unsteady, even with hiking poles; and I worry about strangers up to no good, even with my iPhone.

I miss those days on the trails, and there are short hikes I will take, those I know are safe.  I’ll bring along my binoculars and stop to watch the birds, remembering glory days.

THE WIND:  I used to glory in the wind.  When I was a child, living in a hurricane zone, I would be out in the wild as the wind whipped around and my parents boarded up the picture windows.

Now I live outside what is known as the Windy City, and the wind is no fun anymore.  Winds here can lead to tornadoes.  My property has plenty of trees, and every season I’m left to pick up branches and even heavy limbs.  Yes, I do need tree service but I only get it once every five years or so.

So far I’ve been lucky.  But some day—

GOING TO THE MOVIES:  I used to love going to the movies.  When I was young, there was always a news reel, a cartoon and a double feature, all for twenty-five cents.  Date night?  Dinner and a movie.  But now what happens when you walk into a movie theater.  People are on their phones.  People are talking.  And this isn’t just before the movie, this is during.  Also the sound of the movie itself is so loud, it’s a health hazard.

I know I’m missing great entertainment.  But all my streaming services serve me well for a nighttime of viewing.

ROAD TRIPS:  How I loved to get into the car and just take off.  Anywhere.  True, when I was a child, it took us five hours to get from home to my grandparents.  And I did ask, “Are we there yet?”  Also, who can forget peeing along the side of the road as there were no rest stops?  That was before there were any thruways.  Now it takes about two hours, should I live where I used to and should my grandparents be alive.  Neither is the case.

Having a car is the American dream.  It means freedom.  Just throw whatever you need in the trunk and take off. All roads led somewhere interesting, unless you’re placed in the Midwest.  We used to live in Urbana, IL.  When summer came, we’d pile the three kids into the car, and it would take us until the second day to reach any place interesting, unless you consider the Corn Palace a fascinating stop.  We’d go east, west and south to breathe free again.

After the kids left, my husband and I would travel hither and yon.  Also, I would drive alone, sometimes up to eight hours, to get to someplace interesting, an art camp, a musical meeting.

Now, after two hours I’ve had it.  Okay, I can push to four on my own.  But do I really want to?  Especially as, wherever I go, it means traveling around/through Chicago, one big and long traffic jam.  It only takes 30 minutes or less to get to the airport.

GETTING ON THE BUS (TRAIN) TO GO INTO THE CITY:  The highlight of my young life was always walking the block and a half to Main Street and catching the bus into Port Authority, New York City.  Oh, the joy of it, the adventures in store, shopping, museums, plays.  There was always something new to see, to relish.

I no longer live near New York City.  While I can easily take the train into Chicago, my reaction is, meh.  In my first introduction to Chicago—coming from New York—I wondered why people weren’t wearing black.  Did they not know the color code?  In a city, you dressed in black.

Okay, I’m now used to colors.  And Chicago has many wonderful things about it.  Any booster could list them for you.  It’s an interesting city.  But it’s not New York.  And the worst thing about Chicago is its transportation system.  You get off the bus in New York and a subway can take you anywhere.  You get off the train in Chicago, you’re stuck.

GOING TO THE THEATER:  One of the joys of my life was going to the theater because it’s magic.  New York, London, Ann Arbor, yes, Chicago.  But I’m going to make an awful admission.  I’m old.  For me to schlep to the theater, it has to be something spectacular.  I have a theater subscription for four plays.  One I didn’t want to see, two I walked out of during intermission the writing was so bad and it was so overacted.  One was extremely good.  I’m not renewing my subscription.  And, yes, I do like Wednesday matinees.

GOING TO THE LIBRARY:  Some of my more joyous half hours were spent browsing the book shelves at the library.  I was there at least once a week, looking for something to entice me.  Now—I’ve discovered Libby.  I can now get books on my iPad straight from my library.  And sad to say, I prefer to read on the iPad rather than hold an actual book in my hands.  Why?  Because I don’t have to worry about angling my bedside light to see in the dimness.  Nor do I need to worry about small print.

True, with Libby, I don’t get the books in a timely fashion.  And, unfortunately, when I reserve a book on Libby, it doesn’t let me reserve the book at the library for pickup.  So I’m waiting much longer to read a book I want.

I still go to the library for audiobooks because I find them very comforting when I drive.  I suppose at some point, I’ll learn to use bluetooth but not yet.

GARDENING:  Did I ever really enjoy it?  I’m trying to remember now, it’s been too long since I put my heart into it.  But at one point I was out there weeding, planting bulbs, pruning, admiring my handiwork.  Now I’m down to buying annuals and putting them in pots along the front of the house and on my deck so I can enjoy the riot of colors and the hummingbird that comes back each year.  Not to mention the occasional butterfly.  Where have all those butterflies gone?  Oh, and there is that massive patch of bee balm out front.  Isn’t it wonderful when plants re-seed themselves?

WORRYING ABOUT MY WEIGHT:  Not that I loved this, but it was a constant.  I’ve spent a lifetime worrying about being fat, even though I wasn’t.  That was before menopause.  Now I’ve reached my set point and I’m just going to live with it.

I’m sure as I grow older, there’ll be more things I love that’ll disappear from my life.  And yet, in other ways, I’m still expanding my universe, enjoying new experiences.  I think I’ll be okay.