Aging Buddha in my daughter's house

I need to remember to take pleasure in the sight of a tiny hummingbird dipping into the lavender, the sight of the distant ocean, or sleek beauty of Alberta the cat as she walks from room to room.  Much of the time I feel at the center of some swirling energy pool of children and grandchildren, where I'm continually trying to find a safe place to land....   Eventually I do, and then I feel as though I'm not a part of it all, locked in this angry body of mine, trying to return in my mind to my own universe.
I have been a guest in various universes, and as a guest I must tread carefully and considerately.  While this is good practice, it wears me out just a little.  The constant state of fatigue that I feel seems to come from this fitting in process, as well as the residual effects of trauma...
Fatigue, sadness, anger, frustration, fatigue, anxiety, loneliness .... these are my visitors.  Do I invite them in as Rumi suggested, or do I try to turn away, to find something beautiful to contemplate?
It occurs to me that even in the company of loving family an acute loneliness and sense of separateness can occur.  As I look back on the last four or five years of my solitary existence, it would seem that I have felt more of that aloneness when in the midst of others, out in the world....  Out in the world we have our anonymity, and in the midst of family we have our essential separateness which rises to the surface as we force ourselves to cooperate and tend one another.
When I return home to White Street I believe my life will be simpler.  Or will it?  I will have to get to know someone who will work for me, and I will have to learn to live with my loneliness.   And my infirmities...
When I tried to defend getting older to my daughter last night I didn't have my heart in it really.  It's not the wrinkles in the face or hands that seem to bother me but the deeper sense of a whole body being old(er), more fragile.  I'd trade a thoroughly wrinkled face for physical strength, I think.  But, then, I could call to mind Suzuki Roshi's words when he was dying, and his monks were despairing all around him, and he said, "It's alright.  It's just suffering Buddha, that's all..."  Yes, this is just aging Buddha -- that's all.