Fifty is the New Black

Fifty years ago tomorrow, my younger brother was born. It is crazy for me to know that I can actually remember something that happened fifty years ago. I was four years old. I don't remember much. I do remember knowing that my mother was in the hospital. And my older sister, who I adored, stayed with me. We made homemade blueberry muffins together, and I got to help. That wasn't something that normally happened around our house, and it made a big impression on me.

My brother lost his foot in a work-related accident several years ago. That would make some people feel sorry for themselves or become bitter, but he has an upbeat attitude about life. He works hard to help his family have a good life, and enjoys his wife and two little children. He has a dry, wry sense of humor that makes me laugh. He has a gratitude about his life that is refreshing. He's a good man.

And he's fifty. My "little" brother is fifty. I hope being fifty is as good for him as it was for me. The best part of my life started when I turned fifty. I wish the same for him. Health, happiness, love, cake and ice cream. And maybe some blueberry muffins. Yeah. That would be great.

Susan

Glue and Rocks

A family member nicknamed her "Elmer," which is kind of a funny endearment. It was meant as a compliment, for she is the glue that holds their family together. She remembers everyone's birthdays and anniversaries. She loves having Christmas dinner for the extended family at her home. She is the one who picks up the lonely, elderly aunt and takes her out for an afternoon of lunch and shopping.

If she is the glue, another friend of mine is the rock. A solid, common sense kind of guy, he is the one that gets called in the middle of the night when there is a crisis. He is the one folks go to when they need advice on buying a car or getting a kid into college. He is the one with the pickup truck who will devote a whole weekend to helping someone move.

Those folks who are the glue or the rocks usually love what they do and are happy that their strengths play to the needs of the people they love most. But I have a concern here. What happens when the glue begins to come apart a little? What happens when the rock gets a little crumbly? Those around them often don't come to their aid, don't even notice that there IS a problem, because they are so conditioned to seeing these folks in their roles. The woman who is called Elmer, for example, threw her own 40th birthday party, which was very ironic. She has always been the one to give the parties, so it never even occurred to anyone she might like to have a party in her honor.

It takes some thinking outside the box to realize that those pivotal people in our lives, the ones who hold things together, the ones who are solid, the ones who are always giving, might need something from us. They seem so self-sufficient and together.

This has gotten me thinking today. Who are the people I count on most in life, and can they count on me?

Susan