The Ankle, The Arthritic Attack, and A Small World

So, I recently had major surgery on my ankle. Let me back up a bit.

My arthritis—which I now refer to as my uninvited houseguest—decided to make itself known. First, it went after my shoulder. The medication stepped in like a bouncer at a rowdy bar and said, "Not tonight." The shoulder was saved.

Then the arthritis regrouped. It strategized. And it decided to attack my ankle with the kind of determination usually reserved for championship boxing matches. It won that round.

So off to surgery I went, to get the arthritis removed and a piece of metal grafted in to make sure my ankle could still do its job. I could explain the procedure in detail, but I will leave that to the surgeon. Suffice it to say, my ankle now has more hardware than my garage.

Three days in the hospital for the first part of recovery. And I have to say, I was pleasantly surprised by the process and the people.

The morning of the surgery, I took a taxi to the hospital. The driver was a nice young man who was gearing up to watch the "Football Game"—Canada versus Switzerland, I believe—later that day. We had a good chat about the game, which I am sure he enjoyed far more than the taxi fare.

Once at the hospital, I was ushered through reception quickly, almost suspiciously quickly. I wandered down to the surgery waiting room. I sat for about five minutes, just enough time to contemplate the meaning of life and whether I had remembered to turn off the coffee maker, when a nurse came out and introduced herself as the person who would be preparing me for surgery.

We got to talking. And as these things often go, we discovered she was from a town in the East Kootenays of British Columbia, a place where I had lived when I was young. We had lived in the area for about three years, staying with relatives.

It is a small world, is it not? She did not know my relatives, though she has a friend who lives in Lister. I know Lister. And I know Canyon. Both towns have what I would describe as a "unique view of the world." That is my polite way of saying they are a little off the beaten path, and the people there are, shall we say, wonderfully unconventional. But it still made me smile. You never know who you are going to run into.

Then the surgeon came in. She reminded me that we had met before. She seemed surprised that I did not remember her. I had met her about a year and a half ago for about 20 minutes, and today she was wearing a mask. I am sure she is a lovely person, but I am terrible with faces under the best of circumstances. Under a mask? Forget it. I struggle to remember my own face sometimes.

Very professional outlook.

Then came the moment. I walked into the operating room with the nurse and the anesthesiologist. I got on the bed. The last thing I heard was the nurse's voice: "You will fall asleep, and we will take good care of you."

They did.

I woke up in recovery. Spent two and a half hours waiting for my leg to "unfreeze." Then I was off to my room.

For the next three days, the staff was attentive, kind, and professional. The food was, well, hospital food, which I think is a universal language for "we tried." But the nurses? They were wonderful.

When it was time to go home, I failed the stairs test. I could not get up and down stairs, and since I have many stairs in my house, which was a problem. So, I opted for Hospital Transit. They delivered me to my house and took me up the stairs like a VIP.

And now, I am home. For the next eight weeks, I cannot put any weight on my left leg.

So, I will write. I will read. I will watch some sports on TV.

And I will be grateful for the people who took care of me, and for the fact that, at the end of the day, I have a new piece of metal in my ankle and a whole new appreciation for hospital nurses. What was your last hospital stay?

Is Aging a Good Thing or a Bad Thing?

"Growing old is a privilege denied to many." I have heard that phrase many times over the years, and the older I become, the more I appreciate its truth.

When someone asks, "Is aging a good thing or a bad thing?" my answer is simple.

That doesn't mean aging is always easy. It isn't. Our bodies change, our memories may not be as sharp, and many of us discover that we can no longer do some of the things we once took for granted. Yet growing older also offers something that youth rarely can, perspective.

Recently, I was reading National Geographic's special publication Outlook on the Second Half of Life. The magazine included comments from people of different ages describing what aging means to them. Their responses reminded me that there is no single way to experience growing older.

One man in his forties described aging as a gift because it allows us to see life more clearly.

"You understand a little more, you get wiser as you age."

I suspect many of us can relate to that. As the years pass, we often spend less time worrying about what others think and more time focusing on what truly matters. Family, friendships, purpose, kindness, and experiences gradually replace the pursuit of possessions or status. We begin to see life with greater clarity.

A woman in her nineties offered another perspective that I found especially inspiring.

"It can be good if you have the right attitude... You can accept your limitations and still cherish each day, the people you know, the experiences you have."

That is wisdom earned through experience.

She doesn't pretend aging is easy. She acknowledges the aches, the limitations, and the losses. Yet she also reminds us that gratitude and appreciation do not disappear simply because our bodies change. We can still find joy in a conversation with a friend, the laughter of grandchildren, a walk in the park, or a beautiful sunset.

Not everyone sees aging so positively.

A man in his fifties summed it up this way:

"Overall, it's a bad thing. Your health deteriorates. Your memory deteriorates. Your ability to do things deteriorates."

His concerns are real. None of us welcomes declining health or reduced independence. Many older adults worry about becoming a burden on others or losing the ability to make their own choices. These fears deserve to be acknowledged rather than ignored.

Perhaps the lesson is that aging is neither entirely good nor entirely bad.

It is simply life continuing.

Some doors close, while others open. We may lose physical strength, but gain emotional resilience. We may move a little slower, but often think more deeply. We may have fewer years ahead of us, but we often appreciate each day more than we ever did when we were young.

Our attitude makes an enormous difference. We cannot control every change that comes with age, but we can influence how we respond to those changes. We can choose to stay curious, continue learning, nurture friendships, remain physically active, volunteer, laugh often, and look for purpose each day.

The National Geographic survey also asked people about their greatest concerns during the second half of life. Three issues stood out above all others:

• Brain health (54%)
• Maintaining independence (53%)
• Relationships (50%)

It's interesting that while many people assume older adults worry most about money, the greatest concerns are much more personal. We want to keep our minds sharp. We want to remain independent for as long as possible. And we want meaningful relationships with family, friends, and our communities.

Those concerns are understandable because they touch every part of our lives. They influence how we live, how we age, and ultimately how we define a good life.

Over the coming weeks, I'd like to explore each of these topics in greater detail. We'll look at what current research tells us, but more importantly, we'll discuss practical things each of us can do to support healthy brain function, maintain our independence, strengthen our relationships, and continue living fulfilling lives regardless of our age.

Getting older is not simply about adding years to life. It's about adding life to those years.

Every birthday is a reminder that we have another opportunity to learn, to contribute, to love, and to make a difference. The calendar may remind us that we are aging, but it doesn't determine our curiosity, our kindness, our purpose, or our ability to continue growing.

So, is aging a good thing or a bad thing?

Perhaps the better question is this:

What kind of older person do I want to become?

The answer to that question may shape not only how we age, but how much we enjoy the journey.

Thoughts on life

 The sun rises, the seasons change, opportunities appear, and challenges arrive. The universe is not sitting somewhere keeping score, handing out rewards to some and hardships to others. Storms come. Gardens grow. People enter our lives and people leave. Some days bring joy, while others bring disappointment. Life unfolds without asking for our permission and often without explaining itself.

Many people spend years wondering why certain things happened to them. Was it bad luck? Was it fate? Was it destiny? Was it meant to be?

Perhaps those questions matter less than we think.

Luck may explain a moment, but it does not explain a lifetime. Fate may make an interesting story, but it does not write our daily habits. Destiny may sound comforting, yet every day we still wake up and make choices.

What truly shapes our lives is often much closer to home.

It begins with our thoughts.

A thought becomes an attitude. An attitude influences actions. Actions repeated become habits. Habits shape character. Character influences the direction of a life.

In that sense, thoughts really do become things.

The person who continually thinks, “I’m too old to learn that” closes doors before even reaching them. The person who thinks, “I wonder what would happen if I tried?” opens possibilities. Both people may face the same circumstances, yet they experience very different lives because they approach those circumstances differently.

Consider two retirees. Both leave careers they enjoyed. One sees retirement as an ending. The other sees it as a beginning. One focuses on what has been lost. The other focuses on what can still be gained. Within a few years, their lives may look remarkably different, not because fate chose favorites, but because their thoughts guided their actions.

This does not mean positive thinking magically removes every obstacle. Bills still arrive. Health challenges still occur. Relationships still require effort. Thinking alone is not enough.

But thinking is where everything starts.

Every invention began as a thought. Every friendship began as a thought. Every volunteer project, business, book, garden, and community organization began as a thought in someone's mind before it became a reality.

The wonderful news is that our thoughts are one of the few things completely within our control.

We cannot control the weather.

We cannot control the economy.

We cannot control what other people say or do.

But we can choose what we focus on, what meaning we assign to events, and what actions we take next.

That is a tremendous power.

In fact, it may be the greatest power any of us possess.

Better than winning the lottery, you have the ability to choose your response to life every single day. A lottery ticket can change your bank account. A changed mindset can change your future.

One offers a chance.

The other offers a choice.

And choice is far more valuable.

Every morning you can choose curiosity over fear. Gratitude over complaint. Action over procrastination. Hope over resignation. You can decide to learn something new, meet someone new, help someone else, or take one small step toward a goal that matters to you.

Those choices may seem insignificant in the moment, but over time they accumulate. They become the story of your life.

Life is not giving you a test.

Life is not withholding a break.

Life is simply presenting possibilities.

The question is not what life has planned for you.

The question is: What are you planning for yourself?

Because when your thoughts guide your actions, and your actions shape your future, you discover something remarkable:

You may not control everything that happens to you, but you have enormous influence over what happens next.

And that is better than luck.

Better than fate.

Better than destiny.

It is the power to create a life that reflects the thoughts, values, and dreams you choose to nurture every day.

The Joy of Being Grandma and Grandpa

Let's be honest. We (Baby Boomers) have never been great at admitting we are aging. From the moment we arrived on the scene, we had a mission, a vision, and a stubborn refusal to do things the way our parents did. We changed society so thoroughly that life today barely resembles the 1950s, and honestly, thank goodness for that.

But here we are. The first boomers are turning 80, and we are celebrating it. And somehow, miraculously, we still seem to think we are perpetually young. Denial is a powerful thing.

One role we never planned for? Grandparent.

As parents, we were determined to do things differently. More hands-on. More interactive. More "let's be friends" than "because I said so." The results were mixed,  some kids got great listeners, others got parents who never learned to say no, but one thing is clear: family unity mattered. Parenting wasn't just a job.To us, it was a mission.

Now, with the kids grown and the house quieter, we get to redefine what it means to be grandma and grandpa.

That word, grandparent, has always been a hard sell for a generation that spent decades fighting adulthood, let alone old age. But here's the secret: it's actually fantastic.

Children see grandparents differently. Not as rule-enforcers or homework-checkers. As the people who always have cookies, always have time, and always think they're wonderful, even when they're being ridiculous.

Sitting on granddad's lap, hearing his stories, or just enjoying his terrible jokes is the kind of memory that sticks for life. Grandkids don't care if you've slowed down a little. They care if you show up.

There was a book a while back called "If I Knew Being a Grandparent Was This Much Fun; I Would Have Done It First." That about sums it up.

Here's what grandchildren intuitively understand: we know things. Not because we are smarter. Because we have lived longer. We have made mistakes, survived heartbreaks, and figured out what actually matters. And somehow, coming from grandma or grandpa, that wisdom lands differently than from mom or dad.

Parents have to be teachers, disciplinarians, and rule-makers. We just get to be fountains of love with occasional good advice.

So yes, let us embrace the role. Bring the same passion we brought to everything else, the same commitment, the same love of family, the same refusal to sit quietly in a rocking chair. Our grandkids don't need us  to be young. They need us to be present.

And maybe bring cookies. That never hurts.