growing older | The Direction of Intention

Read It [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

Posted on May 6, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

I can’t complain. I had perfect eyesight for most of my life. And then I didn’t.

I wear glasses to drive at night. The first time I put them on I was astounded, not because I could see but because I was so completely unaware of how I’d adapted to not seeing. With my new glasses firmly hosted on my nose, I proudly read aloud every road sign until Kerri said, “Stop,” in that quiet voice that let me know I was skating-on-thin-ice.

It’s the ends of the visual-pole that go blurry. Very far. Very near. Grocery shopping is a riot. We do all kinds of contorting trying to read labels. “I’m going to take this can to the end of the aisle where the light is better,” she says.

“Wait. You’re supposed to read the labels?” I ask, just to get a rise out of her, adding, ‘I’d help you read-the-can but my eyes are crap. Can’t see a thing.”

And then, there are menus. We’re not yet at the large-print-stage of life but, let’s face it: although blurry, we can see it from here.

read Kerri’s blogpost about READERS

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Filed under: smack-dab | Tagged: aarp, artistry, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, eyesight, glasses, growing older, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, middle age, middle age cartoon, middle age romance, seeing, story, studio melange, the melange, two artists, vision | 1 Comment »

Say Uff Da [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on April 20, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

I never met Kerri’s dad. He passed before I came into the picture. I feel as though I know him. When a nasty bit of home repair is staring me down, I often ask his advice. “What should I do with this one, Pa?” I ask. Generally, he crosses his arms in quiet consideration and mutters, “Uff da.” And soon a solution comes to mind.

Hanging beside our back door is a bamboo wind chime. It was Pa’s. Sometimes when we open the back door it voices and I respond with a hearty, “Good morning, Pa.”

His nickname for Kerri was “brat.” I know exactly why Pa gave her that nickname. Let’s just say she earned it and, to be clear, has never outgrown it. 20 often looks at me in desperation and says, “She’s torturing me!” He wants me to intervene, to come to his rescue. I know better. Kerri laughs. So does Pa. We love the brat even if we are the recipients of her mischief.

Earlier this year I lost my dad. Yesterday while on the trail, I confessed that I was overwhelmed with a wave of missing him. “Cycles of grief,” as the Wander Women say. Growing older is filled with cycles of grief and I had cycled in. I sighed. Kerri squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“This sucks,” I thought.

“Uff da,” Pa said.

read Kerri’s blogpost about UFF DA

Filed under: Family, Flawed Wednesday, Gratitude, Language, Love | Tagged: artistry, brat, cycles of grief, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, family, grief, growing older, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, loss, mischief, story, studio melange, the melange, The Wander Women, Uff Da | Leave a comment »

Appreciate The Nectar [saturday morning smack-dab.]

Posted on June 26, 2021 by davidrobinsoncreative

My dad called coffee ‘the nectar of the gods.’ It has special properties that I am only now beginning to fully appreciate. The-nectar-of-the-gods was wasted on me when I was young. I didn’t appreciate it. I drank it for comfort and taste. Now I get it. Coffee is an essential survival beverage. The gods are laughing. We’re just trying to stay conscious.

read Kerri’s thoughts about COFFEE!

smack-dab. ©️ 2021 kerrianddavid.com

Filed under: smack-dab | Tagged: cartoon, coffee, comic, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, growing older, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, middle age, nectar of the gods, relationship, saturday morning smack-dab, second chances, sleepless nights, smack-dab, survival beverage | Leave a comment »

Step Into The Next [on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on May 4, 2021 by davidrobinsoncreative

There is a plot of ground in the backyard of my growing-up-home, as Kerri calls it, that for many years served as my father’s garden. He has not tended it nor planted it for quite some time and yet, a few intrepid carrots have pushed their green shoots up through the crusty soil. The impulse to life never ceases to amaze me.

In the back of our refrigerator we found a red onion. It was not ancient and forgotten. We used half of it in a new recipe a month ago and laughed aloud when we pulled it out and found it sprouting. In the dark and cold recesses of the refrigerator drawer, it sent out explorers to find the sun. It looked like an alien creature, these pale arms reaching, reaching from a purple half-orb.

Before we drove away, I walked through the empty rooms of my growing-up-home, touching walls, gathering memories, shedding the skin of my childhood. We’d already moved my dad to a memory care facility. Now, my mother is settling into her new apartment. Closing a chapter as another opens. All are reaching through a necessary uncertainty for what is next.

We left Denver and drove up the mountain into and through a furious snowstorm. Cresting the continental divide, we descended again into spring. There was snow and then, within a mile, there was a blanket of green climbing the hillside. This morning, outside of our door, the birds are in full chorus. The dandelions are in a heated competition with the grass and it’s anyone’s call which will win, though, left to their own devices, I’d put my money on the dandelions.

We think we are in control of nature but the last laugh is always on us. We are nature. Our control fantasy crumbles with age, making space for new life and next seasons. Whether we want to or not, we send out new shoots of pale green from our dark purple skin, hoping to punch through crusty soil to find the sun. Either way, we change form, stepping into the next, leaving well-known houses and used skin, filled with rich remembering, opening to welcome the new. The impulse to life.

read Kerri’s blog post about THE ONION

Filed under: Family, Gratitude, Metaphor, Two Artists Tuesday | Tagged: creative impulse, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, family, family story, growing, growing older, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, life, life cycle, life cycles, nature, new chapter | Leave a comment »

Enjoy The Ride [on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on May 13, 2019 by davidrobinsoncreative

there's nothing wrong with... copy

There was that eye-popping day that I ran across the street, more geezer than man. Somehow, my knees and hips, rather than running with the ease I had always enjoyed, squeaked and creaked and rattled along. Although I made it to the other side without being hit by oncoming traffic, I was forced to face the fact that my appendages were aging. I needed to allow more time in my crossing.

And then there was the day that I was driving. My eyes, always 20/20, missed an exit because I could not see it. I blamed it on the oncoming headlights, a dirty windshield, a too busy mind. A paper thin veneer of denial. I knew I’d finally come to the day that my eyes were no longer hawk-perfect [vanity note: I still don’t wear my glasses unless I need to read subtitles at the foreign film festival or drive at night. Denial, although thin, is elastic stuff].

When I was a kid I was on a road trip with my mother and grandparents. My grandfather was driving and he was pulled over for speeding. When the cop came to the window, my sharp-as-a-tack grandfather transformed. Cranking down the window he was suddenly a doddering, hard-of-hearing, slightly shaky, clearly demented old guy. The policeman asked for his license and my grandfather looked in panic to his wife for interpretation and assistance. The cops next question was, “Is this man capable of driving?” We stared blankly ahead. Grandpa dialed it back a notch and recovered some coherence and believability. He got off with a warning. That day I learned one of the primary advantages of aging.

Sometime since moving to Wisconsin, I crossed a magic line. Although I do not think I am old, I am, more often than not, seen as old. A grey beard helps that perception. I confess to looking into the mirror and seeing, not my face, but my grandfather’s. Actually, a mix master image of both of them. They stare back at me when I brush my teeth. I now brush my teeth in low light.

I find this new mask odd and slightly intriguing. Sometimes I wonder who this new face will become. Sometimes I wonder who this new face is. Mostly, I can’t wait to be pulled over. I know exactly what to do and only hope that Kerri will play along.

read Kerri’s blog post about There’s Nothing Wrong With Being Older