Adjustment

I needed to marshal all the resources I had to come to some sort of an adjustment to this new life that I am leading. I have had my freedom, my independence, my lifetime belief that I can do anything I want to do, and some of my internal joy tinkered with. I can no longer get in my car and go to the beach if I am heart sick, confused, or worried. I can no longer grab the beagle and disappear if I need to be gone for a bit of peace and quiet. I can no longer decide for myself where I will go and what I will do without consulting others. This has been the hardest adjustment I have ever had to accomplish. It has taken time, tears, laughter, gratitude, and love to be able to feel like the me that was me before the brain bleed.

But I think I have done it! I think I have achieved a sense of acceptance and calm. I think my smile means that I am really smiling again and I think I can once again share myself with my journal and my journal friends. Leave it to me to decide that my adjustment is adjusted about the same time that AOL decides to dump us. Now I’m stuck with another adjustment!

I tried over and over again to get my journal transferred. I begged my son, I harangued John, I cornered my granddaughter, I hit keys on this keyboard and I cussed at the mouse. Nothing worked. I was so frustrated that I started printing everything I had written so it wouldn’t be erased forever. Our printer was working like crazy for two days when the wizard, my grandson, came and stood beside me, put his arm around my shoulders and asked me what the heck I was so busy printing. He learned very quickly that he should have, as my son said, “Just kept walking.”

But God bless him he stayed and listened to my tale and said that he would do it for me. He stayed up most of the night, but the next morning he presented me with my very own Blogger site and on that site was everything I had ever written. Aren’t grandsons wonderful? And isn’t it wonderful that they know everything about computers. So here I am, but now I have to learn how to be here and what to do now that I am here. I hope my personal adjustment button still works. I’ve really given it an overload this past year.

Other than my personal anxiety about what is left of my dignity the biggest thing in my life has been the election. John, being a retired political journalist, watched every television program that tracked the movements and decisions of his candidate of choice, and then he would watch every television program that tracked the movements and decisions of his opponent. To round all that information out he would then go to another room and turn on his radio and repeat the process. If it was said John heard it. And so did everyone else in the house.

It’s not as if any of us were pulling for an opposing candidate. It was a collective choice. The problem was that was the only noise that vibrated throughout the rooms of this house. At one point my son brought something home that I love to eat and stood on the other side of the room and said that the only way he was going to let me have one of my favorites foods was if I could talk John into giving him 20 minutes of political free quiet. It took some talking on my part and some moaning and groaning on John’s part, but I finally talked him into reading one of his political history books instead of turning on the television/radio. So while John read about politics in the past I got to eat what my son brought me in the nice and quiet now.

Want to know what my son brought me? It was beef tongue. I love it. My mother served it a lot when we were growing up and I learned to love it with mustard. I am the only one in the house that will eat it so I knew that I would eventually get what he was bartering with, but it was fun badgering John to turn the politics off for a bit. The peace and quiet just made the tongue that more delectable.

And then there was election night. Everything in the house that roared was turned on. I have never seen John more nervous. If anyone in the house asked how our candidate was doing he would yell, “Not Yet!” Then he sat on the edge of his chair and detailed exactly when he would know who the winner was, and under his breath he would whisper one more state, one more state, one more state. When all of a sudden the phone rang.

It was Scott. He and I had debated all during the campaign. He tended toward the candidate that was the opposite of mine. We had long discussions about the pros and cons. He was calling to congratulate me on choosing the winning man. The problem was my candidate hadn’t yet won. He was just a tad bit early. In the background he could hear John saying, “Not yet, not yet.” Scott and I both giggled at John’s intensity, and said that we would talk in the morning.

In the meantime, my son wandered into the room and asked who had been on the phone and when I said that Scott had called to say that he was happy for me that Obama had won. My son answered, “Well, if that cracker says he won then he really must have won.” Scott laughed so hard when he heard that I thought he was going to choke.

In the background we could hear John yelling, “That’s it, that’s it, he won! he won!” And all of a sudden all of Johns nervous tension drained out of him and he sat back to enjoy the rest of the coverage.

The secret that Scott had kept from everyone but me was that that cracker from Georgia had voted for Obama too. It was a very interesting election. I oh so wish that my parents were alive. They were so intense about their political choices. I would love to know how they would have felt about this election and the change that has occurred in America.

But if my son thinks that John’s political viewing was over he had a big surprise coming. Now John has to listen to what everyone on television and radio says about Obama ... his win, and his movements. Life goes on for a retired political journalist.

It’s lovely feeling like I have the internal fortitude to adjust AND write again. Now I have to spend some time learning about Blogger and how to personalize my journal and connect with all of my friends. When my grandson first transferred my journal it felt so lonely. Then one morning I went to my journal and there were names and faces that I recognized. Neighbors had found me. It wasn’t lonely at all. It was just new.

I’m off to learn the new. Wish me luck, Pennie