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Falling in Love in the Second Half of Life
Part 1
Many of us are living in the second half of life.
My wife, Carlin, and I have been married for 43
years, which is more than half our lives. She will
be 85 in July and I will be 80 in December. Our
love has deepened since we were first married in
1980, but it has taken us even deeper since her
slip and fall on March 20th.
Both of us are very physically active. We do a
morning series of exercises. I do a morning walk
through the neighborhood and Carlin gets on her
treadmill, walking forward and backwards in ways I
wouldn’t even try. Well, I did try doing her
backwards walking a few times and almost fell off
the treadmill.
It was an unusually warm and sunny day on
Monday, March 20, 2023 in Willits, California.
Following our regular meditation group, I went into
my home office to talk to a counseling client on
Zoom. When I got out, there was a note from Carlin
that she was out for a walk. A half hour later I
received a call from her on my cell phone with
words no one wants to hear. “I’ve fallen.
I need help. I’m near the corner of North
street and Mendocino,” she told me. “Hang
on, I’m on my way,” I told her, as a
grabbed my car keys and ran out the door.
I was by her side in less than two minutes. She
had slipped on a wet spot on the sidewalk and was
still down in a puddle of water. A woman from
across the street was by her side trying to assist
but was agitated and it took me a little time to
calm her and access Carlin’s condition. She
was clearly in pain and she couldn’t get
up.
Just then a young man came from across the
street, said his name was Brian, and identified
himself as an EMT and Paramedic. He was very
professional and respectful. He asked Carlin if it
was OK for him to touch the area on her right hip
where she identified the pain. He was soon clear,
as was I, that she needed to get to the ER at the
local hospital as soon as possible. We could either
call an ambulance and wait for their arrival or he
could gently lift her into my car and I could drive
her myself and get there much faster since the
hospital was five minutes away.
I got her into the ER and the nurses took over,
getting her into a bed, and quickly got an X-ray
that confirmed a broken hip. “I was surprised
that it was broken,” the nurse told us.
“You didn’t seem to be in that much pain,
but it is broken, and you will need surgery as soon
as possible.
In that moment of truth our worlds changed. I
went from thinking my wife fell, bruised her
butt, and we’ll laugh about it as I rub on
healing creams for a week to Carlin needs hip
replacement surgery and flashes of media stories of
a broken hip being the beginning of the end for
older people.
It took all my relaxation and meditation skills
to calm my run-away anxieties and worst-case
stinkin’ thinkin’ to calm myself and
realize that it was much more likely that the
surgery would be successful and Carlin would fully
recover.
The next few days were a whirlwind of
activity—driving back and forth bringing her
things she needed and medications that the doctors
wanted me to bring from home. The surgery was
scheduled for Wednesday, March 22nd and fortunately
I knew the surgeon to be top quality and highly
trained. I had consulted him a few years back when
I tore ligaments in my shoulder.
We were told she would be in surgery for a few
hours, more or less, depending on how things went
and whether he would need to replace just the ball
of the femur or also the joint in the pelvis. The
nurse said he would call me half way through and
give me the progress report. I walked the hospital
grounds along the trail I had helped build with a
whole lot of others in our community.
The call came an hour later and I was pleasantly
surprised by the report. “Things went more
quickly than expected. She only needed a partial
hip replacement and there was very little loss of
blood. She will be a bit woozy for some time after
she comes out of surgery but she should be back in
her room in a few hours.” I was elated, top of
the world, relieved and did a little prayer of
thanks to all those who brought her through this
ordeal, including her own higher power and deep
spirit of healing. The doctor told us she would
likely be released in a few days and we would start
home care.
The crash came the next day following the
surgery when I expected we could talk about what
she would need coming home. But when Carlin tried
to talk, she couldn’t complete a sentence and
she couldn’t find simple words to say. I was
terrified. How can I take care of my wife if she
can’t tell me what she needs? Again fears of a
future life together going downhill to the end
began to overwhelm me.
Gaining control of a mind that is lost in
worse-case what ifs takes discipline that was hard
to apply, but I got a little help from
neuroscientist Jill Bolte Taylor and her book,
Whole
Brain Living: The Anatomy of Choice and the Four
Characters That Drive Our Life. I had
watched her TED talk and enjoyed her earlier book.
This one helped me engage my Character 2, which
tends to focus on all the things that can go wrong
in life, to reassure this brain Character that I
would take his worries seriously and do everything
I could to keep him safe.
The doctors and nurses reassured us.
“Carlin didn’t have a stroke,” they
told us. “Her speech problems are likely the
result of aphasia, which is the loss of ability to
understand or express speech. This is not uncommon
following surgery with anesthesia medications,
lower oxygen levels, and other things. It will
likely clear up gradually and she should fully
recover.”
I was reassured, but facing the reality of her
coming home and I wanted to know when she would be
back to normal. “I can’t give you a firm
answer,” the doctor told me. “The brain
heals when the brain heals.” Fortunately, it
continues to heal and we are learning new things
about life, love, resilience, and community. Often
life crises can bring out the best in each other
and deepen our love and connection. This is
happening, big time, for Carlin and me.
I look forward to your comments. Come visit me
at http://www.Many of us are living in the second
half of life. My wife, Carlin, and I have been
married for 43 years, which is more than half our
lives. She will be 85 in July and I will be 80 in
December. Our love has deepened since we were first
married in 1980, but it has taken us even deeper
since her slip and fall on March 20th.
Both of us are very physically active. We do a
morning series of exercises. I do a morning walk
through the neighborhood and Carlin gets on her
treadmill, walking forward and backwards in ways I
wouldn’t even try. Well, I did try doing her
backwards walking a few times and almost fell off
the treadmill.
It was an unusually warm and sunny day on
Monday, March 20, 2023 in Willits, California.
Following our regular meditation group, I went into
my home office to talk to a counseling client on
Zoom. When I got out, there was a note from Carlin
that she was out for a walk. A half hour later I
received a call from her on my cell phone with
words no one wants to hear. “I’ve fallen.
I need help. I’m near the corner of North
street and Mendocino,” she told me. “Hang
on, I’m on my way,” I told her, as a
grabbed my car keys and ran out the door.
I was by her side in less than two minutes. She
had slipped on a wet spot on the sidewalk and was
still down in a puddle of water. A woman from
across the street was by her side trying to assist
but was agitated and it took me a little time to
calm her and access Carlin’s condition. She
was clearly in pain and she couldn’t get
up.
Just then a young man came from across the
street, said his name was Brian, and identified
himself as an EMT and Paramedic. He was very
professional and respectful. He asked Carlin if it
was OK for him to touch the area on her right hip
where she identified the pain. He was soon clear,
as was I, that she needed to get to the ER at the
local hospital as soon as possible. We could either
call an ambulance and wait for their arrival or he
could gently lift her into my car and I could drive
her myself and get there much faster since the
hospital was five minutes away.
I got her into the ER and the nurses took over,
getting her into a bed, and quickly got an X-ray
that confirmed a broken hip. “I was surprised
that it was broken,” the nurse told us.
“You didn’t seem to be in that much pain,
but it is broken, and you will need surgery as soon
as possible.
In that moment of truth our worlds changed. I
went from thinking my wife fell, bruised her butt,
and we’ll laugh about it as I rub on healing
creams for a week to Carlin needs hip replacement
surgery and flashes of media stories of a broken
hip being the beginning of the end for older
people.
It took all my relaxation and meditation skills
to calm my run-away anxieties and worst-case
stinkin’ thinkin’ to calm myself and
realize that it was much more likely that the
surgery would be successful and Carlin would fully
recover.
The next few days were a whirlwind of
activity—driving back and forth bringing her
things she needed and medications that the doctors
wanted me to bring from home. The surgery was
scheduled for Wednesday, March 22nd and fortunately
I knew the surgeon to be top quality and highly
trained. I had consulted him a few years back when
I tore ligaments in my shoulder.
We were told she would be in surgery for a few
hours, more or less, depending on how things went
and whether he would need to replace just the ball
of the femur or also the joint in the pelvis. The
nurse said he would call me half way through and
give me the progress report. I walked the hospital
grounds along the trail I had helped build with a
whole lot of others in our community.
The call came an hour later and I was pleasantly
surprised by the report. “Things went more
quickly than expected. She only needed a partial
hip replacement and there was very little loss of
blood. She will be a bit woozy for some time after
she comes out of surgery but she should be back in
her room in a few hours.” I was elated, top of
the world, relieved and did a little prayer of
thanks to all those who brought her through this
ordeal, including her own higher power and deep
spirit of healing. The doctor told us she would
likely be released in a few days and we would start
home care.
The crash came the next day following the
surgery when I expected we could talk about what
she would need coming home. But when Carlin tried
to talk, she couldn’t complete a sentence and
she couldn’t find simple words to say. I was
terrified. How can I take care of my wife if she
can’t tell me what she needs? Again fears of a
future life together going downhill to the end
began to overwhelm me.
Gaining control of a mind that is lost in
worse-case what ifs takes discipline that was hard
to apply, but I got a little help from
neuroscientist Jill Bolte Taylor and her book,
Whole Brain Living: The Anatomy of Choice and the
Four Characters That Drive Our Life. I had watched
her TED talk and enjoyed her earlier book. This one
helped me engage my Character 2, which tends to
focus on all the things that can go wrong in life,
to reassure this brain Character that I would take
his worries seriously and do everything I could to
keep him safe.
The doctors and nurses reassured us.
“Carlin didn’t have a stroke,” they
told us. “Her speech problems are likely the
result of aphasia, which is the loss of ability to
understand or express speech. This is not uncommon
following surgery with anesthesia medications,
lower oxygen levels, and other things. It will
likely clear up gradually and she should fully
recover.”
I was reassured, but facing the reality of her
coming home and I wanted to know when she would be
back to normal. “I can’t give you a firm
answer,” the doctor told me. “The brain
heals when the brain heals.” Fortunately, it
continues to heal and we are learning new things
about life, love, resilience, and community. Often
life crises can bring out the best in each other
and deepen our love and connection. This is
happening, big time, for Carlin and me.
I look forward to your comments. Come visit me
at MenAlive.com
and please subscribe to our free weekly newsletter
if you like to read articles about life, love,
resilience, and community. and please subscribe to
our free weekly newsletter if you like to read
articles about life, love, resilience, and
community.
©2023 Jed
Diamond
See Books,
Issues
+ Suicide
* * *
Wealth can't buy health, but health can buy
wealth. - Henry David Thoreau
Jed Diamond
is the internationally best-selling author of seven
books including Male
Menopause, now
translated into 17 foreign languages and his
latest book, The
Irritable Male Syndrome: Managing. The 4 Key Causes
of Depression and
Aggression. For over
38 years he has been a leader in the field of men's
health. He is a member of the International
Scientific Board of the World Congress on
Men’s Health and has been on the Board of
Advisors of the Men’s Health Network since its
founding in 1992. His work has been featured in
major newspapers throughout the United States
including the New York Times, Boston Globe, Wall
Street Journal, The Los Angeles Times, and USA
Today. He has been featured on more than 1,000
radio and T.V. programs including The View with
Barbara Walters, Good Morning America, Inside
Edition, CBS, NBC, and Fox News, To Tell the Truth,
Extra, Leeza, Geraldo, and Joan Rivers. He also did
a nationally televised special on Male Menopause
for PBS. He looks forward to your feedback.
E-Mail.
You can visit his website at www.menalive.com
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