Before flying to Idaho, I wanted to thank the other Michiana Chronicle writers, as it’s often a thankless job. Several have been poignant to me including thoughts on time, air-conditioning, sky-diving and swimming. I haven’t done the sky diving, but do enjoy swimming as time slips while staring down at the black line on the pool’s bottom. I finally started using hair bands on my wrists and hands to keep track of my laps to remember where I am…when swimming.
Speaking of counting, I’ve been at WVPE for 17 years now. Compared to the Superintendent of Elkhart Schools just stepped down after 5, which is apparently now the average for that even more stressful kind of job. It makes me wonder have I been here too long, or not long enough? Have I done everything or am I just getting started as I just turned 57. I remember when that seemed old, but now that I’m here, it’s not old enough. As busy as many of my retired friends are, are they really retired? All our music hosts retired, yet continue anyway; our most senior, Harv Stauffer is approaching his 40th Anniversary, with the others not that far behind. There’s a retired life-guard at the pool where I swim because he enjoys staying involved with his life-long sport.
My mom’s sport was tennis. It was my sport too until an Orthopedist told me if I didn’t want to replace my knees, I’d stop the tennis, racquetball, and any twisting motion. My coaches were right to encourage me to use proper footwork, I just didn’t do it and now have meniscus as swiss cheese—hence the swimming. Did you know the water weight you push with every stroke is the equivalent to an 8-pound weight? I know! It’s doesn’t seem heavy until you’ve been swimming awhile. Speaking of, what lap am I on?
My mother’s other sport, her passion, was music as a lifelong piano teacher, accompanist, and organist. At 86, she still plays every Sunday at church, but hasn’t really had lessons since COVID. Before then, she taught approximately 50 budding pianists per year, accompanied a handful of high-school and college choirs, and ran the Caldwell Fine Arts for 50 years with nearly a dozen concerts each year filling a 900-seat auditorium. While there’s certainly some overlap, I estimate she touched a half-million people with her passion for performance and music.
I got into radio because of my Mom; she won a ‘Be Your Own Broadcaster’ Member Package for classical music program at the local Public Radio station in Boise, and sent me instead. After my show as the ‘winner,’ I was offered a show as a volunteer, then an interim job as Development Director, and my career took off from there. I still want to showcase the musical arts, but am equally happy bringing news, check that, quality journalism consistently to the region. I figure we’ve tied in how many people we’ve impacted; I’ve done it quicker as broadcaster, she’s done it one concert, or lesson at a time.
I’m in the thick of the sandwich generation, my oldest just graduated college doing great in his new job in Indy; there’s another, plus a HS Senior and Freshman to go. It’s tough watching both sides, but especially watching a parent age, your former caretaker needing care, and how to help when the ailment is memory. I’m trying not to be a long-distance helicopter parent…wait, what’s it called when it’s for the parent?
Mom manages herself and the flower beds just fine as long as she receives reminders about where to go to next. For years, she ran her clock on when was the next lesson; it’s so different without the time-posts. It’s still ‘early onset’ as the doctors date the disease, not the person, but it’s changed our visits. The biggest thing is spending time helping clear papers and emails of what she did, but as we sort, it’s also a great way to revisit better memories.
I’m amazed at the details that get packed into several pounds of a human brain. In computer terms, the memory capacity of the brain is around 2.5 million gigabytes; the cerebral cortex alone is 74,000 Gig.
Anyway, I head out to see her next week, as I finish lap 17 trying to ward off my own aging challenges, and I keep staring down that black line at the bottom of the pool. It’s so boring with nothing to think about. Though I can hear Dory telling me to ‘just keep swimming, swimming, swimming.’ You’ll tell me it’s the hero’s journey, the exercise, the push through the routine. Well, that’s enough for today. Time to shower.
Music: "Life's A Long Song" by Jethro Tull
