Pillow(face) Talk

plus, a twisted personal account

Welcome readers, old and new!

Please hit the ❤️ button to ensure your fellow HNTFUYF-ers have strong, sturdy bones!

“I can’t imagine ever being happier than I am now,” I told my little granddaughter, M, as I sat between her and her father one recent evening. I’d just arrived at their apartment in Tokyo.

“Why?” asked M, as she always does.

“Because I’m with the people I love more than anyone in the world,” I said. But that only captured a slice of what I was feeling. My gratitude—for my kind, solicitous son; for his felicitous marriage; for the wondrous person the marriage produced—is the custard filling in that slice. The fact that I’m in Japan, a place introduced to me by my son and where even the most pedestrian aspects of my life range from the merely remarkable to the wildly exotic, continues to astonish me with unexpected gifts.

One unexpected gift: When I was finally able to visit my family IRL after more than two years (the pandemic), I got into bad back trouble soon after I landed. The trouble culminated in surgery; I had, in the end, a memorable foreign hospital experience, as well as a month gloriously pain-free before returning to the U.S. But it was a drama—and not one I’m eager to repeat.

Which, I’m discovering, might not be my choice. As I descended a couple of steps in M’s gym only two days after I arrived on this trip, I twisted my ankle. The sound I heard—loud—was like someone tearing a piece of heavy fabric. Another unexpected gift! Minor fracture.

“Don’t walk too much,” said the doctor, half smiling as he applied a bulky cast. Then, he offered me a plastic sandal with the clinic’s name written in magic marker across the top like a funky logo. I must’ve looked confused. Pointing at my casted foot and then at my sneaker, he shook his head. Oh, right.

Anyway, I was going to write this week about how traveling, exploring new places, and being challenged by an environment different from your own helps keep the mind young. In Tokyo, I typically walk a lot. Sometimes, I lose track of where I’ve gotten to and need to use my phone’s GPS to get back to someplace familiar. I’ve made myself go into restaurants alone, knowing I’d have to figure out a way to order (I don’t speak enough Japanese to ask for anything but water). These small accomplishments contribute to my self-perception as a capable, vital, 73 year old (as opposed to the incapable, frail one I feel like right now). Find a way to get to Nishigahara? Bring it on! I can do it! My experience is confirmed in a recent New York Times story; there are even studies showing that positive attitudes about aging significantly affect longevity.

As I write this, a positive attitude about aging is harder to maintain. I’m stuck in a cast for three weeks and advised to rest. Might it be a good time to answer a question about… pillows?

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