Hope I....Before I Get Old....

So, I'm enjoying a lovely morning here at Villa Wifey. D2 left for school, the dogs have been fed, and I'm reading about the great Canes victory I attended last night. I'm drinking my morning Joe. The sun is shining --the whole 9 yards.

My cell phone rings. It's Mom, weeping. "I have trouble. Big trouble."

I remember my father saying "I have trouble." It was the Spring of 1982, and he returned to our condo from his nightly walk. He felt pain in his upper chest as he walked. He got it checked out, was told he was fine, had a massive heart attack, and then a second one on July 14, 1982. So my father was dead within a few months after reporting "trouble." When my parent says "trouble," it's not a good thing.

I asked my mother what the trouble was. "I got this new Ben Gay stuff that Wifey sent me. I can't open the container. Who would send such a container? I don't know what to do. I need to use it. Yesterday I couldn't mention it, in the middle of all else that was going on. (An electrician was at her house, replacing the nearly 30 year old flourescent lamps. This was the overwhelming thing of yesterday).

I let her weep for awhile, and then told her it was ok, she could keep using the Ben Gay, and just "ignore that bad BioFreeze." It was the same as comforting a toddler who is convinced there's a monster in the closet. The problem is, with creeping senility at the end of life --the monster is real.

So I watched my father die, suddenly, at 63. It was too young. I have friends now nearly that age, and they're sleeping with multiple women 30 years their junior. (Thanks, Viagra!). But, my Dad checked out without any of this awful decline.

Is my mother's course better? She's nearly 89, and was blessed for so long with a wonderful life. She loved her friends, and her volunteer work. She savored visits with her grandchildren, and great grandchildren (as long as they were brief).

These days, it seems the focus of her life is how daunting everything is.

I guess the lesson to learn is that neither end is pleasant. We have to savor our youth, before it's robbed. My friend's father said it best. (He's dead now, too). Mother Nature is a nasty bitch.