I’m sitting here waiting on my mother as she has laser
surgery. It’s exasperating: taking care of an aging parent. They don’t want to bother you with their
problems until they want to bother you.
I’m not sure when she was going to tell me about this eye
problem: today? When the procedure was scheduled? I can never tell with her. On the way here, a few minutes into the drive
she informed me that her hearing aids were on the table next to her chair. “It’s okay, I don’t really need them” “ Great”
I said in a normal voice,
“you won’t hear me when I scream.”
She leaned over toward the driver’s seat “What did you say”? I smiled silently to myself.
In the past few years , I have trained myself to begin every
conversation by asking “ Do you have your hearing aids in”? If I don’t, it only leads to
frustration. I am not a patient
person. (My problem, not hers.) I also have trained myself to ask a ton of
questions and if the answers are not satisfactory, I go to the source. It takes time and patience, however I
consider it worth my while; this is my mother’s well-being after all.
Stopping by to grab coffee this morning, I happened on an
friend who , like me has an aging parent(s) with health issues. She was in coming to town for the football
game, when her 91 year old father fell and broke his hip. Her vacation plans
were extended to come earlier to take care of her mother. We shared stories , coping strategies and I
explained my theory: payback. Our parents are paying us back for
everything we ever did to them as teenagers.
We were often the reason for sleepless nights and countless walks across
a living room window looking into the darkness .
My mother is supposed to tell me when she decides to drive
the 40 mile drive to the warehouse store;
I used to drive 6 hours to college
and forget to call when I had safely arrived.
Mom has been “bumping” into structures with her car and not
telling me; I used to put 4 friends in my dad’s Austin Healey when he told me
multiple times NOT to do this. It wasn’t
safe to stick to girls in the “back seat”.
Mom goes out shopping at Walmart for hours on end with her
cell phone and doesn’t answer it; I routinely missed curfew in High School for
really important reasons. (I can’t remember what they are now. It was important than I swear!)
There have been multiple times when I am ready to call the
local authorities and ask if a woman matching my mother description has been in
a wreck, when suddenly she appears. She
shrugs her shoulders and tells me not to worry.
Sometimes I think that she goes out without telling me on
purpose, laughing up her sleeve. She
knows it will get a response out of me and I will come running; A sure fire way
to get to see me. She often complains
that she doesn’t get to see enough of me, though we live extremely close and I
see her almost every day.
Payback.: the guilt trip variety
I suppose at 80 years of age, 4 children, 7 grandchildren, 3
great- grandchildren,: she is over worrying and just enjoying life. She wasn’t worried about this
procedure. She didn’t care that she
couldn’t hear me. She isn’t concerned
about too much of anything and maybe this is how it should be. She is just enjoying the ride.
It’s okay Mom... I
can drive from here, Love ya!
Peace.
NEPB
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