Tag Archives: high school graduations

The Human Spirit

“It Is Not the Strongest of the Species that Survives But the Most Adaptable.”

I thought this column was going to be about how it feels to be a grandparent of a Westlake High graduate. I planned to grouse a bit about sitting in the stands as the heat of the sun attacked us while we waited for the ceremony to start. I planned to write about my pride in watching my Valedictorian granddaughter cross the stage to receive her diploma. I was going to write about how time is passing so quickly and how bittersweet that is.

But that was before COVID-19. That was when I still had the luxury to wonder if I could wear a large sunhat in the stands to protect my aging skin—and my hair color! As if…

Now my granddaughter will not have a graduation ceremony at all. She won’t get to throw her mortarboard up in the air in celebration. She won’t get to walk with the other Valedictorians. The world is a different place now. I don’t think it will ever be quite the same, and that’s not all bad.

Charles Darwin said that the survival of a species is all about their ability to adapt to their environment. And that’s what I see happening around me. We’re adapting to the circumstances we find ourselves in.

For instance, the hours I used to spend in the beauty salon, I’m now using to clean the house. I’m finding it satisfying in a strange way. I’d always wondered how to use a Swiffer. I’d see it in the aisle in the grocery story and it seemed a mystery to me. Not any more. But then someone told me about the power mop and I upgraded immediately.ve also found out about the wonders of the Clorox toilet bowl wand. My grandson, Garrett, and I tried it out together. Wow, did it clean the toilet bowl in a jiffy!

I have to admit that one day I was so industrious with my Clorox and Lysol that I gave myself an asthma attack from inhaling the cleaning solutions.  My throat was very sore and I began to cough—you can imagine what I imagined. Even my husband was concerned.

“Take your temperature,” he ordered.

It was my normal 97. 2.

Have you noticed that the things you prize after February 2020 are different than before? I first was aware of this during my cleaning frenzy when I checked under my bathroom sink and found a full bottle of Clorox spray cleaner. You’d have thought I won the Power Ball jackpot!

I’m also finding that we use things differently. My grandson, Evan, found a shell on the beach that must have been there for a while as it was crusted with sand and debris. Normally I’d have had him soak it in rubbing alcohol to see if it would bring up the shine. Because we had more Vodka in the house, we used that instead. We’re also learning to conserve. I can’t even imagine discarding a roll of toilet paper that isn’t down to the bare cardboard tube.

I see another positive pattern: neighbors helping each other out. It’s as simple as people checking with each other to see if they need something at the store. One day I found a source for masks and bought them for three families.

When Kathy came to pick hers up on the bench outside my door, she left me a bottle of Lysol spray. I was overwhelmed by her generosity.

I believe most people crave the company of others. We want to see each other and share important events together. Zoom, Skype and FaceTime are tools we’ve adopted to adapt our situation so we can do this. Even I, who can’t use the TV remote control, learned to create a meeting on Zoom so my creative writing class could meet.

We’ve had an unusual opportunity for adaptation. Two of our grandsons and their friends came for Spring Break and ended up hunkering with us in Hawaii. Every day, Moe and I have known how lucky we are to have these lively cheerful human beings with us. My only problem was learning to adapt to the amount of food young adults can eat. My first meatloaf, made in an 8X8 pan was way too small. The next, in a 13X9 filled the bill.

Adapting to how I really look is in another realm of Reality. Without Botox, my face is beginning to fold into a piece of origami. One thing I’m glad about is the loose elastic band of my sweatpants because my comfort eating has gotten out of hand. I find I can’t live without my Hershey’s chocolate bar with almonds. Or my double martini. As for the gray hair? I have used the Madison Reed hair product I bought so I don’t like so skunkish.

Staying home to stay safe has not been easy for such a mobile society as ours. We’re used to flying here and there, maybe on a whim. One of my favorite things is going to movies—I just read that may be a thing of the past. Warner Bros. pulled one of its big summer movies from release in theaters; it will go straight to video-on-demand. Universal did the same.

One of the hardest parts of the lockdown has been not being able to touch our loved ones. But keeping safe has been worth it. It not only helps us, it keeps our whole society safer. Even though I know that’s true, there’s a part of me that can’t help wishing I could still be in the Westlake High School stands, sweating through my clothes, watching my granddaughter graduate. I swear I’d never complain about anything again.

All About Me! or Get Her Well and Shut Her Up!

Since there’s nothing happening much in the news, I thought I’d give you all an update on my health! I mean, let’s keep what’s important in perspective, right?


I’m well into week 5 of this virus, no pun intended. I do think I turned a corner last week in that I’m not as flat-out sick as I was. But still, once I start feeling tired, I’m done. There’s no cushion to the fatigue. And once it comes, so does the cough, which tires me out more.

I’d like to first say that I have so much more compassion for people who have chronic illnesses. And I’d like to say that I’m sorry for not understanding how debilitated a person can be. I now understand why people become incommunicado—it’s just too much work to get in touch. It takes too much energy to go to lunch or even have a manicure. I don’t mean to say that my virus is on the par of chronic illness—I fully realize it’s just a virus. But it’s given me a taste of what people go through.

I think it also gave me a taste of what I may be like when I’m old, in my late 90’s. Right now my energy bank is not very full. I rest a couple of hours a day, especially if I have to go to an event. Otherwise, I wouldn’t make it. I make tradeoffs, also. If I’m going to go to the grocery store, I can’t take a walk or go to yoga. Not enough energy to cover both.

But I’m grateful that I’ve been able to do the important things this month. I made it to my grandson’s high school graduation and to my granddaughter’s dance recital. I made it to my daughter’s birthday and to our neighbor’s birthday. I made it to the family celebration of birthdays, Fathers Days, graduations and anniversaries. I even finished the chapter I’d been working on.



I couldn’t eat much with this virus—too tired and slightly nauseous from the fever—so I lost a few pounds. (there has to be a silver lining!). My brother saw one of the family celebration pictures and thought I looked too thin.


So last Friday, after I had my hair cut, I put on a lot of make up and had my daughter take my picture. That way I could show Steve I felt much better.



One disturbing thing I realized during this siege is that if you don’t feel well, you make a lot of mistakes. My mind was kinda fuzzy—from the virus or the meds, I don’t know. I tried to keep going and accomplishing, but I’d come back to find out I hadn’t actually finished a task or had not done something correctly. Imagine if I were your pilot! Or your lab technician.

I want to thank everyone for the good advice, encouraging words and help. I did go to the doctor three times and I did get a chest X-ray. I did take more vitamins and kept up my fluids. Part of it was fear engendered by midnight coughing fits. Didn’t Jim Henson die of pneumonia? I’d think as I chugged cough medicine. Oh, and that reminds me. I had a lot of trouble with cough medicine—I tried it with codeine and I had weird dreams and sores in my mouth. And most over-the-counter ones have sucralose in them, of all things.


A final thought: I realize as I read this over, that I must be very grateful to be such a healthy 71-year-old. If I can complain so much about this virus, I’m mostly in good health! I may be a rust bucket but I have classic lines!