Aging for the New Age

(Additional thoughts on previous "Aging" post)

I've heard that some parents try to hide their aging mishaps from their adult children / caregivers.
Such as hiding a fender bender so nobody knows they are incapable of driving anymore.  A lot of it seems rooted in pride.

This makes me ponder that perhaps my grandchildren will have an easier time with this process.  When they are caring for their aging parents (my children) - their parents will be of the generation that grew up posting everything on social media.  I think because of such conditioning - the pride factor will be much less to deal with.

Additionally, they will not have to ask their mom what she ate for breakfast - there will be a picture of it on Instagram.  Their father will not hide the fender bender - he'll post about it on Facebook.

(Of course, 50 years from now Instagram and Facebook will be obsolete.  But you get the point - something will take its place, perhaps even automatic uploads.)

Aging

It occurs to me that there may be a saving grace to dying young.  As much as I think that for my children's sake I do not want to leave this world on July 12, 2017, at the age of 47 1/2 - at least it would spare them the frustration of seeing me grow old.  

It was very frustrating to deal with my mother in her final years.   Even though a part of me feels like a horrible daughter for saying that - it is true.  I've observed similar sentiments in others caring for their aging parents.  It is such a fine line between the day when they are still able to drive and might willingly surrender their keys anyway, for the good of humanity, and the day when they are a threat to public safety but too proud or foggy headed to surrender their keys.

How many conversations go something like this:

ADULT CHILD:  Mom, did you remember to take your medicine this morning?

MOM:  Why do you keep asking me that?  I know I need to take my medicine.  I won't forget.

ADULT CHILD:  What did you have for breakfast this morning?

MOM:  I don't know - did I eat breakfast?  I don't remember.

And they fail to see the connection that they just said they won't forget their medicine but they can't even remember if they ate a few hours ago.

I know there is a medical / psychological basis for all of it - but that doesn't make it any less frustrating.  I would very much like to save my children from that frustration.  Hopefully I'll live well past 7/12/17 and by then there will be a breakthrough so that the senior fogginess is no longer a problem.

Trapped Inside this Mind

When I became a stay-at-home mom I had this idea that I was going to be more spontaneous and just go with the flow of life.  Truth is - I'm a planner.  So far I have not been successful in planning to be spontaneous.

We ere at the park today - 68 degrees, overcast, mid-March.  There's a splash pad at the park (where the water comes up out of the concrete like a built in sprinkler to run through).  Several children get completely soaked.  I made it clear to my kid that he is not to get wet.  The kids he was playing with got wet and he had to sit on the sideline.

As I watch him and try not to feel guilty or let my mommy-heart break for him, I wonder why the other parents think this is a good idea - or did the kids not ask.  I prepare myself for the possibility that my kid may get wet and try to plan a reaction that is not over-the-top furious.  At the same time I'm thinking we have no towel, and how much dirt and mulch would his wet clothes attract, and how much mess would it make in the car on the way home, and what about those old wives tales that a kid could catch their death getting wet in the cool air.

Sometimes I want to let go of the what-ifs, especially given the inspiration for this blog - life is short, my time is limited.  At the same time I think, life is too short for me to spend it cleaning up extra messes.

The Last Man on Earth

There's a new television show about the last man on earth.  I thought it was a goofy show.  Even after he met the last woman on earth - I don't see how there is going to be enough material to sustain the show.  But for me it was a refreshing contemplation.

For over a year now I have been contemplating what I want to accomplish before my life comes to an end so to see it in the reverse was refreshing.

In the show the guy has the run of the whole earth.  He can live in any house he chooses.  Take any food from the grocery store.  Drive any car.  He doesn't have to go to work or take care of anything.  There are some problems - no running water and no trash service.

What would I do if I had NOTHING to do and endless amounts of time to do it in?

• Read!  That would be first on my list.  I would spend a lot of time reading all the books that I want to read but will never find the time to read.
• Exercise - well, it was a thought.  I actually do want to exercise daily for better health but I rarely get the time.  If I was the last person on earth I'd have the time to exercise.  However, I probably wouldn't care about longevity.  If every family member I loved were already dead, I wouldn't feel compelled to take good care of myself in order to extend my life for their sake.
• Forget exercise - I would experiment with new recipes and enjoy food.  Dessert every day!  Even though I know dessert makes me sluggish and puts on the pounds - so what...I could sleep off the sluggishness and if I was overweight there would be nobody to be self conscious in front of.  Likewise, if bad eating habits led to an early death - so what...I could join all my loved ones.
• Finish projects - again, it's a thought.  I could finally clean out the clutter and get it all listed on eBay - except there would be nobody to buy it.  I could finally finish my book - except there would be nobody to read it.  I could finally work on the family scrapbooks - except I'd be the only one to ever see them.  The album still might be comforting - but otherwise, how frustrating that all the things I could finally get done wouldn't be worth doing anymore.

So - we're back to Read and Eat.

What would you do?

Mom, can you make me a hat?

On a Saturday morning I was waking up with my coffee and my son asked if I would play a game with him.  Having nothing on the schedule for that day I told him we'd play later.  Then I checked my email and found out that on Monday my son's 3rd grade class would celebrate Dr. Seuss' birthday by having Silly Hat day.  I said to my son, "Great, you can just wear one of Dad's welding caps like you did last time it was Silly Hat day."  He looked at me and, with a voice as small as Cindy Lou Who's said, "Can you make me a Cat in the Hat hat."  Well, how could I say no to that.

I googled and thought, decided to knit, then to not.
I wound up making a hat out of felt and it turned out super awesome!

This is the kind of thing, as a Mom, I want to be remembered for.

When I was in 6th grade we moved from San Antonio to a small town in West Texas.
We only lived there for one year and I didn't have a lot of friends that year.
As an adult, I had a conversation with my Mom and she casually mentioned something about when she had been my Girl Scout leader.  I had no memory of her being my leader.  She said it had been my 6th grade year.  I was a leader for my daughters troop for two years and I know it's a lot of work.  I felt horrible that I didn't remember my mom being my leader.  (I'm actually thinking maybe I was somehow a troop of one that year and she just managed my independent study or something.)  

Years from now, when I'm gone, I want my son to remember the day I made him a hat.  I want him to have lots of memories like that and to know, through those memories, that he was loved.  Even though it was also the day I said I'd play a game with him and never did.  At bedtime I apologized that we never got to play a game but pointed out that he had an awesome hat - and he agreed with that.