I was surprised, perhaps shocked, to open a local newsletter recently with a photo of me with my violin. I don’t think of myself as a violinist. Happily, it was taken by a very fine photographer, so I relaxed and enjoyed the moment. I do play the violin. A lot! I play nearly every day in duets, trios, quartet...

I don’t know who I am! For the first two weeks or so after Janet died, I felt like I was floating. Something in my mid-section kept me afloat — off the ground. I mean, I knew that in one reality I was walking, but in this new after-her-death reality, it was like my feet never touched the ground. I wasn’t walk...

This still-dark morning, I startle awake, hearing Kayla pace from my bed to the door and back. Judging from her near-frantic pacing, I realize I’ve not been conscious of her usual sedate tempo that begins a normal day. Being forced to get up fast, find footwear, flip on the coffee machine, find a jacket, and ...

As a therapist, I have dealt with a lot of adolescent sexual issues, mostly trauma and abuse. I have seen very few seniors. But I have started to wonder how senior care homes and assisted living facilities deal with sexuality. Is the myth that seniors lose interest in sex as they age still common? I have frie...

I write not as an expert, but as a fellow traveler, one who has lived long enough to know that intimacy is not something we lose with age. It is something we are asked to relearn. Our bodies change. Our histories deepen. Silence can grow heavier if we let it. Many of us carry grief in one pocket and prescript...

That day of days when you were allowed to acknowledge a fondness for the opposite sex, legally allowed to write her, and she you. She might be the popular girl who smelled of raspberries, wore a clip in her hair, sat near the front or middle, where you studied her. She never got in trouble, never had scabs on...

I’ve lived alone (as in unpartnered — I do have a housemate) quite happily for many years. I’ve never been much good at multitasking, and I learned long ago that effectively managing a career and a committed relationship simultaneously was not within my capabilities. Some things happened early on in my adult ...

This February marks the 100th anniversary of the founding of Black History Month, created in 1926 by Harvard-trained historian and educator Carter G. Woodson to promote fair representation of Black history and accomplishments. By the 1960s and the Civil Rights Movement, “Negro History Week” had expanded to a ...

As a widower going into the seventh decade of my life, I began to consider what it would be like to be in an intimate relationship again. A wise friend I spoke with about this told me, “At your age, your relationship can look like whatever you want it to look like."

When my husband died nine years ago, I suddenly found myself single again after 48 years in a loving, creative partnership. After giving myself time to adapt to such a big loss and change, I realized that I still longed for sex and physical closeness. I was also aware of my daunting insecurity about my aging ...

Mark your calendars for the 2026 Humboldt Senior Resource Center (HSRC) Supporting Healthy Aging Conference, Thursday, May 14, at the Sequoia Conference Center in Eureka. This full-day conference continues the tradition of HSRC’s successful and longstanding Dementia Care Conference series. This year’s confere...

The Behavioral Health services program at Humboldt Senior Resource Center (HSRC) supports mental and emotional well-being as an essential part of healthy aging. As February and Valentine’s Day invite reflection on love and relationships, it’s also a good time to talk about intimacy — what it means, how it cha...

One night when I’m in pain, I ask my partner to put his hand on my back and simply rest it there. I’ve had three back surgeries for nerve damage and I also have postherpedic neuralgia, a complication of shingles. I’ve tried myriad medications and alternative treatments, too. Nothing helps as much as my lover’...

Twenty-five years ago, I had the honor to direct Humboldt County’s first local production of Eve Ensler’s “The Vagina Monologues.” It sold out every seat for three nights. Back then, Eureka Theater board members — none of whom had a vagina — refused to put the word “vagina” on the marquee. It simply read, “Mo...

When British poet laureate John Betjeman was asked what he regretted not long before he died at 77 in 1984, he supposedly replied that he wished he’d had more sex. In our 50s… Despite children and work and moving forward with still strong sexual attraction, we always found time for lovemaking. And more good n...

I was born and raised in Kansas and received my religious guidance from my grandmother. Our church believed that lipstick or dancing were the devil’s work. That should give you a clue that sex was not a topic discussed at the dinner table. Remember when Elvis was on “The Ed Sullivan Show”? I was excited. I tu...

To the Editor: For years, I’ve been distressed about the anger and disrespect between the political Left and Right in our nation and in Humboldt County. I was a staunch Democrat most of my life, but in 2015-2016 something unexpected happened. I had volunteered with Betty Chinn for a couple of years and wanted...

To the Editor: I am absolutely compelled to write you. I was recently in Eureka’s hospital ICU and then transferred to the hospital in Fortuna. I felt like I was in hospitals in Beverly Hills! The people in both locations — from the cleaning staff, nutritionists, nurses and aides, doctors and administrators —...

I am no longer the fragrance of apples. My hair spilling down and around my partner’s chest is only a distant memory. My curves ... are gone. I am medicated powder in the folds of my belly and under cotton flannel, Arnica on my hammer toes. Our blanket, old, frayed and favorite, protects from this reality, en...

I ran into a friend at the post office the other day. She had a December Senior News clutched with her holiday cards and junk mail, and wanted to know the January topic. She wants to write something, she told me, for perhaps the 20th time. “Transitions,” I said. Changes coming in 2026. I recited my bit about ...