It's Not Getting Older I Mind... It's Getting Old.

I’ve been trying to stop by my mom’s at least once a week. She is so capable, and the last thing she wants is for anyone to consider her old, but I know that at 86, she doesn’t have the energy she once did. Here senses are also not quite as acute. We have a ritual, where I track down the moldy food item producing the offensive odor in her fridge. Once I’ve done that, we make lunch, and then we sit and chat. After lunch, I clean the dishes. I wrap up my visit by wiping off smudges of newsprint she's left on wall switches and doors. She's about 4'10", so it's easy to tell which are the prints she's left behind. Shortly after I leave, she takes a nap. The napping thing is not new to Mom. She has always been a napper – something I inherited from her. Nothing like a great nap to rejuvenate a body!

Mom tells me she doesn’t mind getting older. It’s getting old she hates. I know that Mom appreciates every day of life she’s lived. I also know that as she gets older, things that used to be trivial are now significant issues. When she fell last month, it was scary. I fall, and I’m a klutz. She falls, and the rest of us hold our breaths. She is also more sensitive to harsh words. Mom has never liked confrontation. When I’m feeling a bit “hormonal” and bitchy, I can see my mom flinch. I try to contain these little outbursts, but there are those days…

Earlier this morning, I wasn’t sure I was going to make it by my mom’s today. I’m so glad I made the time. Ever the gracious person, she always sends me on my way with a big hug and says, “Thank you SO much for coming over.” No, Little Mom. Thank you.

Nearly Two Months Later

I didn’t blog once during October. I spent the month working on new business, dealing with personal stuff, and avoiding television commercials. How is it that the right to vote, which is so key to our democracy in the U.S. has become such contentious ground? I love that people are so passionate about presidential candidates, but these men are just men. They are not genies who can deliver us from evil and greed, or bestow us with wealth and self-fulfillment. Besides, as my family will attest, I don’t like talking politics. I’m not going to change anyone’s mind – nor is s/he going to change mine.

So now it’s November. Tomorrow we vote for our first African American president, or our first female vice president. Either one is significant. Either is historic. Our sons and daughters finally know that regardless of race or gender, they can aspire to vice-president of president. It is that fact I celebrate – whatever the outcome of the election.

And now that October is behind me, and the election will soon be decided, I feel a bit more focused. I think I'll be more productive.