It’s never too late to make new friends, and friends are never too old to be made…
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A thimble full of thoughts for and about you today…
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But, there were also post-parking instances when I’d peek through Mom’s window…
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… Perhaps I’m not sad enough at the loss of my mother?
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Feeling the shift, and seeking words to understand it, I Googled…
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Boy, have I missed you!
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Disease, war, acts of nature, apocalyptic happenings... Kim Jong-un ... it’s amazing any of us live past 50.
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Time lapsed in spurts. Each event had a beginning and an end. The middle could be completely inconsequential... the concepts of mindfulness or being present not even blips on my youthful radar.
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Ultimately, I don’t believe my post-Mom memory will be the young 55-72 version. And if she lives to be 100+ (entirely possible), she’ll certainly look old when she dies, but her face is not what I’ll remember most.
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Enjoying retirement is visible, but not yet tangible. We’ve stalled in a place called Limbo... a state that’s full of unanswered questions and what-ifs. It’s a stage where our future, literally, depends on the lives of other people.
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Mary’s social behavior is exemplary (no swear words or scowls), and she uses her melodic “inside voice” at all times – even when an outside voice would be perfectly acceptable. She guides students at school, and teaches CCD on weekends. Mary is... an angel.
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Maybe carpools and playdates (“stay-dates,” “grey-dates"?) are just the tip of the iceberg. Such a simple concept that’s been around since the beginning of time...combining hunters with gatherers... teamwork.
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When do you start putting the reality next to the fantasy about how long you’ll live? What happens when everything’s checked off your bucket list? Do you make a new one? Throw in the towel and say good-night? Eternally?
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It’s very funny when my 91 year old mother fumes with frustration at me and, in heated seriousness, snaps “FECK OFF.” When it happened.....
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I pulled out the soap box. Not a real one (what is a soap box anyway?), but a virtual one...the kind you stand on when you need a little height to project your important message out to the masses....
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Like a box of chocolates- you never know what you’ll get with your aging mother. Sometimes, you put your finger in the middle, and feel an OMG-I-can’t-believe-we’re-doing-this-again piece.
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Me and my friends, sitting on the beach, sucking up the sun... ahhhhh...feels the same today, as it did 40 years ago. Sort of...
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At first, I thought it would be the same thing – taking care of children and caretaking aging parents.
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DEFACTO....We don’t plan on it.... it just happens. Unsuspecting adult children, incrementally caring for aging parents.
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Yesterday was Mom’s “annual physical.” Ahem... didn’t we just have one of those? Apparently not....
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