Ultimate Control

So yesterday I went to the Palace with Wifey to help schlep some of her ancient mother's stuff.  We spent another hour in the condo, and Wifey realized something:  the old crow had outsmarted her.  When we moved her from Pembroke Pines to Palmetto Bay, Wifey made her promise to cull out stuff she really didn't need.  Well -- turned out that some of the boxes marked "supplies" we paid the movers to move actually contained REAMS of letters and notes -- many of which were from the Ds.

I get keeping a few particularly cute notes, but my mother in law kept every thank you from everyone -- even recent ones from the adult Ds that read "Thanks for the birthday check, Sabta."  There were also notes and brochures from Holocaust groups dating to the 80s...the stuff finally found its way to the local dumpster, where it will become, hopefully, compost, or at least add to the height of the tallest point in Miami, Mt. Trashmore...

We walked in, and I met first hand the roommate.  Wifey had not exaggerated -- this was an instantly obnoxious, despicable person.  She reminded me of an older version of the wife of one of my office mates -- who I met once and never again at a Heat playoff game.  I came in and pleasantly said hello, and she scowled and said "Your mother in law talks in her sleep!  She will have to move!"  I tried to deflect, telling the old See You Next Tuesday that she ought to listen -- my mother in law gives out awesome stock picks at night.  She scowled more.

Wifey, never cowed, said "well, maybe you'll have to move."  I thought the 92 year old was going to hit her, saying "This is MY room.  I've been here a year!  Don't you DARE talk to me that way -- I won't have it!"  At that point, I put the suegra into a wheelchair and beat a retreat for the patio outside her room, and a lovely gazebo.  It brought back memories of MY mom --  she loved the gazebo at Miami Jewish, which, like Grandfather's Clock in the Burl Ives song, was taken down right after she died.

Anyway, soon after D1 and Joey arrived, and the old lady beamed.  After a while, we went inside, and dinner was served.  The server offered us some banana cream pie, and I thought I might have a bite.  D1 erupted.  How dare I!  I had promised to lose weight before her wedding, and now I was clearly showing her I didn't care.  She got very upset.  She really loves me and wants me around for awhile.

The old woman just sat and ate while I was, properly, berated.  In fact, I haven't exercised, and eat badly.  Trying to eat the pie in front of my dietitian daughter was like a drug addict Dad saying he was going to shoot up just one more time...

So I promised her to change.  Wifey and I stopped for dinner -- I had a Greek salad with chicken.  I took the strange rescue dog for a night walk.  I plan to drop 50 in 5 months -- for the wedding.

And then, as if a bolt out of the blue, came an email from Norman -- a classmate of ours had died.  Mike, a delightful guy, had passed.  The Christian site Caring Bridge filled in the details -- Mike, a world class athlete (his FaceBook photo showed him running with bulls in Spain, and a bike tour of Mt. Zion last Fall) had suffered a massive heart attack, lingered for a month, and died March 31.

All of the comments were about how he was a health nut -- only ate healthy, and exercised daily.

Of course, this isn't a license for me to stay fat and immobile, but it does show -- we really have less control over our fates than we'd like to think.

One of my biggest annoyances is people who think EVERYTHING is cause and effect.  "Well, he was struck by lightning, but he shouldn't have been outside that day, even though it wasn't raining!"  I find many times these kinds of people end up making some of the stupidest life choices of all.

But back to Mike.  He was an all American, sweetheart of a guy.  Always speaking well of people.  I last saw him a few years ago -- he was a defense lawyer in Broward, and was doing well.  I learned he had 4 kids -- a son Sean wrote eloquently about him and his life on the Caring Bridge site.

So we carry on, hopefully enjoying life, and making the right, as often as we can, choices.  But, as the saying goes, the Big Man laughs.

Sometimes delightful, productive people are taken in their 50s, and other nasty, obnoxious, 92 year olds hang around simply to terrorize their fellow residents.  Go figure...