By MARY RICHE

DES MOINES, Iowa, Jan. 2, 2025 — It’s a new year with 365 days of blank space on my 2025 calendar. I love a paper calendar, and I love a sharp pencil to make those notations of regular meetings and special events. Of course, I share a digital calendar with my husband who proudly calls me his “techno babe” — and I’m not offended.

Both are new experiences — the shared calendar and being married again. Especially to a man who doesn’t make my hair stand up when he hollers for help from his techno babe wife. And yes, I recognize I’m enabling him. Even though he’s attached to his iPhone, he’s not going to change the technology processes that have become a habit after he’s used them effectively for the past two decades.

As a married couple, this is our third holiday season. Two nights ago, he asked about my resolutions for 2025.

I reminded him that I do not make New Year’s resolutions.

We RicheBurgers know how to celebrate many occasions with special accessories.

I prefer to state my intentions, a process that includes reflecting on the past year with all its accompanying meanderings. And glimpse realistically at the new year, paying attention to my mind, body, and spirit as a practitioner of wellness, wholistic health all my adult life.

As a first-born child, I can take things seriously. And at times, very seriously. Or too seriously, as my husband reminds me. At the same time, he’s become accepting of what that means and how to integrate my practice of wellness into our daily lives.

Here’s a bit about how all that factors into this column.

I celebrated my 77th birthday in late November. I’ve taken those Q&A tests that provide a “relative” age that compares to a person’s chronological age. I always score much much younger than my actual age. At least, I used to score younger though I have not taken one of those tests for some time.

However, I now look in the mirror each morning and greet my mother and father because my aging head and face are a conglomeration of their parts. My wavy curly hair came from the Riches. And my eyes and mouth from my mother’s family, the Watsons.

The rest of my equally older parts are also daily reminders. My arms, knees and legs are exactly like Verda Watson Riche. She’s also responsible for my ultra-high level of energy. My hands and big feet came direct from Frank Riche. And they each contributed to my insatiable curiosity and zest for living.

Mother lived to be one month shy of 88 years; Dad lived to be one month more than 81 years. I’m now 77 years old. Suddenly, my DNA has new meaning.

So, my reflections of the past year included something new — broken bones. I’ve never had a bone break until August of 2024. Talk about getting gobsmacked. I fractured one of my ribs when I got my shoe caught in the wheel of the trash can. Who knew those bins were dangerous? Not me. And my physician explained during my exam that trash cans cause lots of injuries. New signs need to be affixed to those cans — “Beware.” “Dangerous falls can occur!”

Two months later, I chipped a bone in my foot. An avulsion fracture of my fifth metatarsal. A CAM (controlled ankle movement) boot and I became “one” for 7 1/2 weeks. I wore it all the time, only taking it off to shower.

And thanks to the internet, I learned that a chipped bone is a common fracture for women in their 70s. And men in their 30s. I’m guessing those men were injured during games of pick-up ball. And we women in our 70s have to learn the hard way it’s safer to sit when taking off socks, slacks, or putting on underwear, socks, slacks, etc. I’m slightly embarrassed to share that I attend a “Balance and Strength” class once a week, though the Physical Therapist who teaches it coddled me by saying it was only a chipped bone.

I planned for three surgeries, by choice, to start the first quarter of last year. To those who have wondered why I stopped wearing glasses. I had easy-to-remove cataracts taken off both eyes. The colors in the world are clearer and I have “readers” for those long days of reading when my eyes get weary. If anyone reading this post is procrastinating about cataract surgery, avoid delaying this helpful life-altering procedure. (Private message me via email to learn the name of my ophthalmologist surgeon who is fabulous.)

I also had my left shoulder repaired. AND I didn’t wait for that rotator cuff to fail, like I did on my right shoulder. A skilled orthopedic surgeon was able to clean out the arthritis and “extra” bone using arthroscopic surgery and I was back doing Pilates twice a week in no time at all! (Private message me via email if you want his name as well.)

Enough of these musings.

Here are a few of my intentions for 2025:

Accept my age for the history it has provided me.

Embrace the laugh lines that define my face, the big feet that can be graceful, and the curiosity that remains insatiable.

Learn to slow down and stop before looking around.

Resume Pilates twice a week; Balance and Strength once a week; and long walks outdoors when weather allows and on the treadmill when it doesn’t.

Celebrate the 77 years of my past and raise my goblet high for what’s ahead in my 78th year.

And… have a monthly massage, or even an extra one after long car trips.

After all, as my husband says so often, we’re 77 years old!

Happy New Year!

Write to me at maryriche@gmail.com or use the form below to share your 2025 resolutions or intentions.