Wednesday, July 18, 2012


I've never felt at quite such a loss of what to write about. The last six months have produced stories, to be sure, but not of the sort that beg to be told. Bits will come out here and there, I suppose, as I become accustomed to blogging again. It seems to me that for the most part, I just lay abed sleeping and during my waking moments I had no inclination to think deep thoughts or to ponder weighty matters. It seems a shame to have wasted all that time. 

I never saw the famed white light, but for days on end I was very aware that it was taking some effort to stay on this side of the veil. Breathe in, breathe out, mouth was so dry. Mr. Bob was too ill to visit very often, but the kids took turns sitting all night by my bedside, while the other tended Mr. Bob. Chris' blog piece entitled 5:55 A.M. is such a treasure. If you missed it, please go back a few entries. If you read it, it wouldn't hurt to visit it again. It's short, it's heartfelt and sums up our experience as well as anything and Susan's entries are beautifully done, too.

The lady in this photo, wearing dark glasses, was brought  to the room across the hall last night, fresh from the hospital. She's a bright lady, retired from a career with Channel 7. Independent is her middle name; she's experiencing what is known as post polio syndrome and didn't much like it when she had to move from Independent Living to Assisted Living, mostly because it meant retraining nurses to her way of coping within her living quarters. She is completely blind, but had organized her space brilliantly.

As one goes down the hall where my room is located, it's lined with residents. Susan refers to them as "hall people" and prefers that I not be parked in that position. Some have dozed off. I saw a man yesterday with his electric razor pressed to his chin in one spot. He was enjoying a nap. I try to greet each person by name and with a smile as I go past. Most of them respond. A few don't. I was struck the other day by how in old age some of us have bodies that are twisted and not at all what they used to my case, the right knee cap faces the left leg.

Next time perhaps I'll share some of my hallucinations with you.


  1. Your photos are just the right touch for what you write. People endure such difficult things--I admire your blind new woman neighbor. Hope she can adjust and maintain as much of her independence as she worked hard for. Good to hear you're observing all sorts of things again, Jane.

  2. I am not finding a key to press to print a I will tell you what I got out of your blog today....besides the joy of seeing Manorisms in my mailbox.

    THE UNSUNG BEAUTY OF YELLOW, PLASTIC, MUSTARD BOTTLES! How the color sings and says We're having hot dogs and fun on the 4th!

    Never, ever would I notice without your eye for sharing.

    ANYTHING you write is brilliant. This starker view of aging is a lesson to grab and enjoy each day. To steep oneself in gratitude and not forget to look at the sky!!!!!!!

    The artist is you never fails to reignite my appreciation for beauty and HONESTY in ALL things.

    need to be deep? IT'S ALL DEEP.

    I was also wondering if any of your items are still for sale on Cafe Press or anywhere else?

    Thank you! Keep writing. You have an amazing gift to connect.

    Much love, Lisa

  3. It sure is delightful to see you've resumed writing Manorisms, Jane.
    That last line is perfection!

    Laurie McF

  4. I love your blog. It's good to have you back. Love, Shelley

  5. Susan H writes: Your writing brings me present to the past , Chris, Tim and I did think there was the possiblity that you would have lead the way for Mr. Bob, it was scary. I am crying at the library again. Please know that I mean no disrespect by calling them "hall people" so often as I said hello to each person when I passed by several times a day, I wanted to take them on an outing, sit and visit, do something, but it wasn't my place. It was wonderful to see them smile being seen and spoken to. When you are well enough you will have a scavanger hunt to look forward to. I am sure now that I/we gave many things away that you may have wanted to keep. You can go knocking on doors with a wad a dollar bills in hand and barter your things back. All with good intention. I am proud of you Mom and proud to be your daughter.

  6. Susan H writes: I know that in the back of my mind I lookd for 555 but I look at the clock both morning and evening at that time often. When Ryan put one of his bags on the scale when he moved to to Washington a month ago, it weighed 55.5 lbs. Chris described the moment well

  7. You you are already posting fotos again. You are totally amazing and inspiring and I still want to be like you when I grow up. Thank you for taking us along on your life's path. You have no idea how inspiring you are. T.O. Joanne

  8. Thank you for sharing these pictures and ideas...and you have nothing to worry about regarding subject matter. Your experiences and feelings are so well described and appreciated. That last line about the things you saw speaks volumes, and makes me remember my mother-in-law's peculiar pharmaceutical visions. The funniest was when she said there was a horse eating waffles near her bed -- but what got her attention was "he was eating them out of a bowl!"

    I linked to the blog about "Readership Down" and all the countries around the world where Manorism viewers are. Amazing and fun! Just let it flow, Jane. Love, Jeannie

  9. You are the BEST !

    A Non Y Mouse

  10. Dearest Jane,

    I am likely going to be up there in your area at the end of the month. I will try to swing by - if you are permitted visitors I would LOVE to see you.

    Kim Gosney