CHANGES IN OUR LIVES

Mobility in Merida 2.0

At the start of 2026, I decided to re-start my blog, CHANGES IN OUR LIVES. I set a modest goal – one post a week – and I managed to keep it up until mid-January. Yes indeed, I wrote twice, and then my resolve turned to mush. I did not write a third post, or others, because I didn’t really want to bare my soul about the past three years. However, context is necessary.

Jorge & Joanna 50 years together, Merida Yucatan January 18, 2026

I realize that readers who have known me for a long period of time must wonder why I have been down in the dumps – feeling off center – not myself. Indeed, I have given this predicament much thought. Furthermore, truth be told, my painting is in the same doldrums as my writing. I have not touched my pencils, my paints, a sketch pad, nor a canvas for a long, long time. The amount of reading I do is also unlike me. I took out a library book early in the year, and I needed an extension period, plus 20 overdue days to finish it. I do still cook, but not with my signature flair. I keep in touch with friends, somewhat.

I’ve had depression. There – now that’s out of the way,

Dr. Google sums up this malady: Clinical depression, or Major Depressive Disorder (MDD), is a serious, common medical illness characterized by a persistent low mood, loss of interest in activities (anhedonia), and significant functional impairment lasting at least two weeks. It involves cognitive, emotional, and physical symptoms—such as fatigue, sleep disturbances, and a hopelessness—that interferes with daily life.

Lasting at least two weeks. I have been this way since my knee replacement, followed by a hip replacement, and then shoulder surgery, in addition to falling badly, three times. There has been considerable pain, and of course, my ability to really LIVE seemed to be in tatters.

2023 was some time ago though – you’d think I would be back on my feet by now. And I am. I have been diligent with my physical therapy. I have tried as hard as I’ve been able to. I am driving again and venturing out on my own. I can take some of the credit, but I feel most of my healing has been thanks to my husband. Jorge has been a rock – patient and helpful – even though he has his own limitations. And my friends. Many good friends have stood by me. I won’t name them all, but they know who they are. I am grateful to everyone for their generosity. But I also feel guilty. Because of my loved ones’ goodness and efforts to help me, I feel as though I should be completely back-to-“normal” by now.

The depression is less than it was, but the feeling can still overwhelm me. There is nothing consistent about healing physically or psychologically, not with depression figured in.

I return to Dr. Google’s explanation. Depression brings on hopelessness—that interferes with daily life. Several people have suggested that I take antidepressants and/or find a therapist. But being depressed does not predispose a person to consider other options. I have stood fast to my belief that I can do it myself. I felt I’d always managed before, and I would manage this too.

And I have, but it has taken three years to reach this point. This point being, not totally recovered, but well on my way. Why do I feel I have finally made some progress? I don’t know exactly, but something a good friend told me resonated deeply. (Actually, she is a retired psychologist, so my claim of managing without professional help is not altogether true.)

She said that to be happy, a person basically needs three things:

To have Mobility
To have Community
To have a Purpose

What these three things precisely entail for each person, depends on the interpretation each of us gives them. According to my personal criteria, I feel I have recovered enough Mobility to be reasonably self-sufficient. I am fortunate to have a loving, supportive Community. What I seem to lack is Purpose, and I feel that this drags me down.

Up until 2023, I felt I led a useful, purposeful life. I could accomplish most of what I set my mind to, and rightly or mistakenly, I figure that I contributed positively to my community. Then, my physical limitations began, and my bubble burst. Getting back my motor abilities was hard, but as they improved, I wondered how to best re-claim my former life, albite a scaled-down version. An idea started growing, although it was not an original one. In 2025, I asked if I could talk about it at the Merida English Library’s, “MEL Talks.” They not only approved my topic, they encouraged me to speak out.

The writer in me loves alliteration, and I called my presentation, “Mobility in Merida.” I did not have a structured format, rather I asked the group the same question I had been asking myself.

What do we need, in order to live a full life, despite our physical difficulties, and the accompanying psychological limitations. I was surprised at how much these people had to say.

For many reasons we did not try for follow-up sessions. I must confess this was partly because I felt overwhelmed by the response, and I did not know how to continue. However, I feel ready now. At 11 :00 am, on April 1^st at the Merida English Library, I invite those interested to participate in “Mobility in Merida 2.0” I hope we’ll have a lively discussion around mobility and will also talk about what we can do to reduce social isolation. Actually, our city offers a lot for us to engage in – the terrain is flat, many attractions are in close proximity, reliable transportation is available, And?

Any thoughts or questions? Leave a comment here or a Facebook message.

A Fish Story

After such a long time living away from Canada, I rarely feel homesick. However, on this past January 10th I definitely felt myself wallowing. On that day, a BIG party was held in my hometown, in honor of a person from my youth, and I could not go.

When I think back to my childhood, growing up in North Vancouver, the Helm family stands out so prominently. All of us eight van der Gracht kids were great friends with the six Helms. Our parents shared similar values and goals. My mother and father and Mrs. Helm all passed away many years ago. But Mr. Helm has not. In fact, this week he turned 100.

Both families belonged to Holy Trinity parish. And we children all attended the parochial school attached to the church. Really most of our activities involved HTS. Brownies and Cubs, Youth Group, Choir and more, all unfolded within the confines of the parish perimeter. On weekends and during vacations, our families also enjoyed time together. We went camping, watched one another’s sports matches – and we shared many a family meal.

Marg and John van der Gracht and Ollie and Elmer Helm were traditional parents who gave us the solid upbringing that has stood me well my whole life. And Mr. Helm gave me one unique, valuable lesson. It involved fishing. You may wonder if he taught me to fish – No, he did not. My own dad did that – In fact, I rarely saw Elmer Helm with a rod in his hand. However, he would sometimes bring by some of the trout or salmon he coaxed from the Capilano and other waters near our homes. Mom would make fish& chips or fish cakes, and never failed to point out that the catch came from Mr. Helm’s daily (or nearly daily) forays to fish – at 5 am.

Five in the morning! Good Lord – how could anyone consistently get up that early? Why he did this was unfathomable to me. I thought it could have been because fresh fish, especially free fresh fish, was a boon to any big-family economy. When I finally asked him about this, I was in my teens and he explained that, in part, I was right, and I should never underestimate the difference that fresh fish makes to the diet.

(To look at him today, still in amazing shape at one hundred years of age, I would say he certainly proved this point)

He also added his other reason for fishing. “It reduces my stress,” he told me. At the time, that meant little to me. But I never forgot what he said. Then, later in my life, when I lived far away from North Vancouver, I learned lots about stress. I moved to Mexico 50 years ago. Back then, despite the country’s reputation as laid back, I found that day-to-day living in such a different place, making sense of a new culture and speaking another language were stressful indeed, and I remembered Mr. Helm’s remedy for the malady.

I am not particularly “sporty,” nor was there a river where I could fish, but I could get into the new dawn and scoot around my neighborhood, the park, or wherever. I found the hour I spent – alone with my thoughts, carried forward on my own two legs – set me up for the day.

Of course, I learned other life lessons from Elmer Helm, but this was an important one. Mr. Helm, thank you for your example, warm character and friendliness. I admire you greatly!

(Photo: courtesy of the Helm family)

Back to Blogging

Two years, maybe more, have passed since I last wrote a blog post. Of course there are many reasons why I stopped doing this, and I could enumerate them all. But who wants to read a long soggy laundry list?

And yet a few points must be made. The life I once led required consistent physical strength, stamina, and boundless energy. And like it or not, I can no longer claim those attributes. I have grown older. I have less energy and my mobility is limited. For a good many months, this reality held me back. I tired so easily and I could not – just keep on going, and going, and going – like the Energizer Bunny I used to be. I got depressed when pain from surgeries and falls did not go away. Worse yet, it prevented me from walking much at all, staying out late, cooking up a storm, or traveling with the intensity I used to take for granted.

My former lifestyle also demanded flexibility, creativity and an outgoing personality. I could not understand why these traits were also lost to me. Really, for a long while, I did not want to do much at all.

My husband, Jorge, who experienced his own health crisis a while before I did, was understanding, empathetic and patient. And that saved me. He took over many responsibilities that used to be mine. During my convalescence, I also had help at home from my longtime housekeeper. My wonderful friends stood by me and encouraged me.

Little by little I have realized that joy is still possible, but it looks a lot different than before. I can push the cart all through the supermarket and get the bi-monthly shopping done – but I can not spend all day cruising through markets. I can make our daily meals, and with help from Jorge, get a small dinner party together. But although I’ve given it a try, I cannot pull together meals for 40 or 50 people as I used to. One big confidence building accomplishment, was taking a trip on my own. Last summer, I managed to visit family and friends in Canada for a month, and even stopped-over in Mexico City for three days. I go to a gym three times a week. And I am driving again.

With a lot of support and persistence, I have overcome many physical challenges and yes, mental ones too. I’ve decided to go back to blogging because I have thoughts to share about these changes in my life, and I believe others might be interested in reading how I’ve coped. Especially my contemporaries who have passed through, or are in the midst of similar changes. Indeed, I feel ready to get back to writing a blog – but no – not an ambitious book project. I am also thinking about painting again, and I hope to find a good book group.

My final thought for today is this:

Growing from infancy to adulthood involves learning new skills and behaviors. Do you think that growing older is a similar process?