Muffin tops and bubble cleavage

My middle-aged crisis came to an end with a whimper and a sigh.  I'm glad I'm finally over it. I'm getting older. So what? I'm not exactly thrilled with the wrinkles, age spots, and everything else that's going south, but I'm okay with it. It's the circle of life.

But now I have nothing. What can I blog about? Grandchildren? I don't have any. Although we do have a granddog who is adorable. But writing about a dog is just like showing too many grandchildren pictures. People's eyes tend to glaze over after a couple of hours. Maybe I could have a blog called The Geriatric Adventures. But I'm not quite yet to that stage either.

But I am going to have to start another blog. I don't have any other hobbies.

I think I'll keep this one but just change its title. It took me too long to bribe 18 people to sign up as followers. My sidebar shows 17 but there is another one who signed up as anonymous. (Who are you, by the way?)  And I did have a creepy guy from Germany that I had to block. I did a little investigation and his Facebook timeline picture showed decomposed bodies swept up on a shore. Disturbing, to say the least.

I know I have more followers who read my blog, but none who officially want to come forward. Why is that?

Anyway, I was lying in bed this morning thinking about what I was going to wear to the family reunion today. And, I just had to share. So, the retirement of my blog lasted for just one week.

I really need summer tops. All I have in the closet right now are the size of hankies. I had been buying my clothes at Gap. Everything they sell there is 100 percent cotton. I'm really bad about forgetting that fact when I throw them in the dryer.

So I went to buy some shirts yesterday. It wasn't a good experience. If you've shopped recently, you may have noticed that the shirts in style right now are skinny, clingy, threadbare, and have scooped-out bust lines. Unless you're built like an ironing board with two raisins for breasts, you're going to look really bad.

For one, these shirts cling and accentuate the fluff around your midsection and any back fat you may have. They are so tight that people see that your bra has three prongs. Worse, though, is the four inches of cleavage showing.  The fact that cleavage is four inches says something about middle-aged cleave. It's long. Plus, it gets lopsided and you have to do a lot of adjusting. Not at all attractive.

Why in the world are these shirts popular right now? Even teenage girls look bad in them.  I've been noticing some serious muffin tops and breast spillage out there. Good grief. I'm not a guy, but I have a hard time not staring. Where do you look? I feel sorry for hormonal teenage boys. But then there are so many breasts exposed that maybe they've become desensitized. Bare breasts are no longer a novelty.

True, you can wear a camie under the top. But the camies I've found all have scooped necklines too and just make your middle section look fluffier.

Is there is such a thing as clothes that are "youthfully mature," I'd like to find them. I'm open to suggestions. Meanwhile, I'm going to the reunion today. I hope noone notices I'm wearing a hankie.

The good that comes

Dave, his junior year in high school

The last three weeks have been a blur and often emotional as Dave recovers from his surgery. But some wonderful things have been happening. Who knew that brain surgery could be a good thing?

The first days in the hospital were rough. Dave's eyes moved back and forth crazily. He saw everything as overlapping or moving. He didn't have balance and was unable to walk. But each day he slowly improved until he was able to move to the rehab unit.

There he was surrounded by an army of therapists--physical, occupational, speech, and recreational.  We learned that the brain, if given the right stimuli, over time is capable of creating cells and neurons to find new pathways, even years after an injury. His therapists are working with him to improve his balance, coordination and eyesight.

What has surprisingly been the most helpful has been speech therapy. Initially, we wondered why he'd even need it--his speech was fine. But speech therapy really focuses on the cognitive and communicative.


Dave has the ball, freshman year

In the 70s when Dave had his brain surgeries, he was given physical therapy but never really helped with the cognitive effects of his injury.  He was sent home with a brochure and essentially told good luck.

Dave has compensated for the physical; most people aren't even aware of his challenges. But it is the communication and cognitive part that is most difficult to understand or explain to people. It is the invisible piece of a traumatic brain injury.

Dave told noone about his struggles.  He couldn't articulate something that he didn't fully understand himself. Because the brain has to compensate for the injury, his response time is delayed. When there is too much stimuli (like when he is in a group of people with everyone talking at once) all he hears is static. People have misunderstood him as being antisocial or angry, when in reality he is neither.

When Dave entered the rehab unit, he was relieved finally to be around people who "got it." He didn't have to explain himself or what was going on inside his head. They understood the mechanics of how his brain worked. And they helped him understand it.

To me, I always felt that there was a puzzle piece about Dave that I was missing. It was difficult for me and our family to understand him. Now things make sense. We're both making adjustments in how we communicate with one another. We wish that he would have been given the opportunity for this kind of therapy years ago.

God, truly, has been working all things together for good. These weeks have been healing for Dave. He said it's as if a huge burden has been lifted from his shoulders, a burden he has been carrying around for almost 40 years. He says he's at peace.

I feel like I've been healing too. I've finally graduated from my midlife crisis. I'm content and looking forward to the next chapter of our lives.

Since I no longer have my midlife crisis to write about, I'm retiring this blog. Maybe some day I'll start another one. I may have to call it The Geriatric Adventures.

P.S. If you're new to my blog, you can find more posts in the archives. You can look them up by the months they were written. My favorite and funnier posts were the ones which I wrote earlier. Thanks for reading the blog!. I enjoyed writing it. Blessings...