Aging | itsawonderfilledlife

Posts Tagged ‘Aging’

Unfading – Part 3

Posted in Unfading, WONDER, tagged Aging, Alzheimers, Amara, Dymensia, Fear., Fiction, Forgetfulness, Loneliness, Story on January 20, 2012| 4 Comments »

This is another post in a series, about a woman named Amara. Every Friday I will post another segment in this story.

After what seemed like an eternity of waiting for her memory to tell her why she drove to this parking lot, Amara thought to herself, ‘maybe I should just go back home, since I cannot remember why I am here.’

She placed her right hand on her key, preparing to turn it to start the car’s motor, as she glanced around the parking lot one last time for an indicator of why she was there. “Is that … ?” Amara whispered as she looked at a woman coming through the front doors of the building in front of her.

The woman was perfectly coordinated from her clothes to her bag, to her jewelery, to her shoes to her make-up. It would be difficult for anyone to not notice this perfect looking woman. Although she looked perfectly put together, with the greatest of care, she did not look approachable, nor did she look happy. “Why it is! That is Joy.” Amara was excited, relieved to see her youngest child, her daughter.

With great excitement, Amara grabbed the handle of her door, swung it open, yelling “Joy”, as she almost levitated out of her automobile.

Joy heard her mother’s voice, and focused her eyes in search of her. As the two locked eyes on each other the stresses that they had each been experiencing that day disappeared. There was a relief, and even a oneness as they looked at the one that each of them needed most. This moment of oneness was rare for these two, so genetically close. As early as when Amara discovered her unplanned pregnancy, from which Joy emerged, there was tension between the two. From that was a colicy first year, a defiant childhood, and teen years of feeling disappointment in each other.

The two were a pair of contradictions. Amara the ‘get your hands dirty’ mother, and Joy the ‘I don’t like to get my hands dirty’ daughter. Amara, whose life was one surprise after another, and Joy, whose life appeared to have turned out just as she had planned.

“Oh there she is, finally! What is she wearing?” Joy muttered to herself, just under her breath.

“Mother, you finally made it!” She yelled back, while standing on the steps of the professional building.

Amara headed straight for Joy, not taking her eyes off of her adult child.

“Mother, you will need to shut your car door.” Joy shouted to Amara, while positioning one hand on her hip, still not moving a foot towards her mother.

Throwing her hands up in the air, Amara sighed and smiled self mockingly, as she jogged back to close the driver side door of her archaic Olds.

As she quickly swung the door shut, she had not moved her body out of the way in time, and slammed the door hard against the inside of her right knee. “Damn it!” she yelled, as she bent over wincing and reaching for her throbbing knee.

“Mother, come quickly, we are late for the appointment,” Joy yelled, not having seen the injury that had just occurred.

“I’m coming dear,” Amara responded through clenched teeth, as she straightened and hobbled to the steps where Joy was still standing, with one hand still on her hip.

“For goodness sakes, I just have to be the most clumsy person on the face of the earth,” Amara was muttering under her breath, as she reached the place where Joy stood. The look of relief gone from her daughter’s face was replaced with a more familiar look, one of disdain, one of disappointment. Amara’s heart sank. After a lifetime of looking into her daughter’s eyes and seeing that same look of disdain looking back at her still hurt her like nothing else on this earth. For Amara, the pain in her knee was healed by the daggers she was thrown by her first born. No bandage, no salve could heal that hurt.

Unfading – Part 4

Unfading – Part 1

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Unfading – Part 2

Posted in Unfading, WONDER, tagged Aging, Amara, Anxiety, Disappointment, Fear., Forgetfulness, Loneliness, Sighing, Story, Unfading, Widow on January 13, 2012| 5 Comments »

This is another post in a series, about a woman named Amara. Every Friday I will post another segment in this story.

“Are you sure she is able to come here on her own? You could meet with the doctor alone today, and bring your mother here for a second appointment?” Dr. Faw’s receptionist said with sincere concern, but laced with the urgency of a vulture. My mother’s delay was impeding the efficiency of this woman’s day. And was that sarcasm I heard when she specifically said “coming here on her own?” Was she insinuating that I should have brought her myself? Well, if only she knew the efforts I had made to try to convince my stubborn, highly independent mother that she should let me pick her up!

“No, I will wait just a couple more moments for her,” I replied to ‘vulture lady’ while smiling my sugary sweetest. She faked an accepting nod and smile to me.

Oh, what was keeping mother? Did she remember? Did she forget where she was to go? Did she misplace her car keys again? Did she go wandering on the trails again, and forget her way home? How can so many possible reasons for mother’s delay go through my head so quickly?

Today was just bound to not go as planned. Joe forgot to set the alarm, and the entire household started the day on the wrong foot by starting late. The kids were late to school, which seemed to be disastrous for both of them. Jilly was irate that we forgot to set our alarm, causing her to have less preparation time to beautify her sixteen year old self. And even five year old Jessica was upset that she did not have time to brush all of her teeth ten times, and refused to say goodbye to me when I dropped her off at school.

On my part, I was frustrated with Joe too. He knew how important today and this appointment were to me. He knew how stressed and uncertain I was feeling about what was going on with my mother and what might be the reason for the strange behaviors my mother had been exhibiting. He knew this was important, and he forgot to set the alarm.

Sigh.

That seems to be happening often … sighing. It is as though there is so much air in my lungs, from holding my breath, that it constantly needs to be forcefully emptied with a full, loud expression of sighing. It seems that I sigh so that my body feels it, and my ears hear it to remind my body that I am still alive. I wonder if I ran away to a tropical island would I still be sighing?

I reached into my purse to check the time on my cell phone, but where is it? Oh no, I left it in the car! Maybe mother had called me with an explanation of why she was not here. Maybe her car wouldn’t start, or she fell, or her alarm didn’t get set (no, that would not have delayed her. My mother has been awakening earlier all the time for the past few years. She even phoned me last week at three in the morning to tell me about her neighbor’s falling the night before. She had awakened, gotten dressed, and had breakfast without noticing the time on any of the clocks in her house. No, an alarm clock was definitely not the reason she was not here).

I stood and approached the Vulture lady, “I just realized my cell phone is in my car, I will go get it to see if mother has phoned me.”

“Alright then,” Vulture lady said sharply, “but I can only hold your appointment time for another fifteen minutes.”

I sighed, “very well then.”

Unfading – Part 1

Unfading – Part 3

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Re-Boiled Tea

Posted in canada, FAMILY, GOD, life, Recipe, women, WONDER, tagged Aging, Fondness, Future, Life, Mom, Recipe, Scottish, Tale, Tea, Women, Wonder on April 14, 2011| 1 Comment »

Once you read this tale, you will be shocked to know that my grandmother is from Scotland … the land of tea (and shortbread … mmmmm, who could ever forget the shortbread … I wonder how long I would need to walk, to work off a good shortbread cookie?).

So my mother is my grandmother’s daughter, therefore, mom has about half of her life-giving blood donated by the nation of Scotland. Truly, good tea-making should be in her genetic code. But, it’s not!

Here is my mom’s (or is it mum’s) method of making tea …

First: One must use Red Rose Tea Bags

Next: Boil water, while, pouring out ‘yesterdays’ tea, rinsing the pot (must be Pyrex)

Next: Set pot on the wire ring, on the burner

Then: Place two Red Rose Tea bags into pot.

Then: When the water is boiled, pour into the pot.

Next: Turn burner to ‘low’ and allow to steep … for many, many minutes!

Finally: Enjoy

But, for my mom (of fine tea-making Scottish heritage), that is not the end of the story. No, MY mom doesn’t start the process all over again at lunch (or, as is said on the East Coast, ‘dinner’), and then at dinner (on the East Coast, known as ‘supper’). MY mom makes a full pot (just for herself, as dad is a strict milk-drinker) in the morning, and then re-heats, by re-boiling, the morning tea for lunch (dinner) and dinner (supper).

YUCK!

What self-respecting Canadian, of Scottish heritage, would make such a brew? (and what daughter, of said Canadian-Scottish heritage TELL of it?). Why it is just wrong, and in some countries, might even be viewed as criminal behavior.

All that said, some mornings (and only in the mornings, because I know of the dishpan quality of the tea as the day grows older), I so wish I could sit at her kitchen table (no one, in their right mind, on the East Coast would sit anywhere else for tea and a visit), and watch her go through her morning tea-making routine, and listen to her talk of all the people we know (what else do you talk about on the East Coast, besides other people … talk of the weather could cause people to sink in a hole as deep as those of us on the West Coast are wallowing in), and sit, in the same seats we have sat in since I can remember, and have our tea … together.

And when I am old (er … my body is already headed on the irreversible pathway), and my mom is gone, you know what I will remember, with fondness, every time I see a wire burner ring, or Red Rose Tea, or a Pyrex tea pot? I will remember my mom’s re-boiled tea, and the great memories I have of sitting in ‘our’ seats at the table in her kitchen, ~~gossiping~~ talking fondly ( 😉 ) about all those we know. Maybe re-boiled tea is not so bad.

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Unfinished

Posted in canada, FAMILY, GOD, life, Love, The Kids, women, WONDER, tagged Aging, Distance, FAMILY, father / mother, Fears, Future, Hope, Illness, Life, Love, Unfinished., Unknown, Wonder on April 12, 2011| 3 Comments »

This one is gonna be a long one, because it is the culmination of a handful of blog entries that are still only drafts, they are … unfinished. So grab your coffee, or tea (from the unfinished blog entry ‘Re-Boiled Tea’, oh, and that’s for you mom … everyone who blogs knows that if no other person on the face of the earth reads your blogs, mom does … and dad, so get your glass of milk), and, of course, chocolate, and snuggle into your seat, it’s going to be a long one (if I get it ‘finished’)!

Now, where do I start? I know how to finish (I can finish the cake, finish reading the book, finish the chocolate, finish the yard work, finish the candy, but I digress). But starting can be more difficult.

I am not a news-lover! As a matter of fact, with hubby gone now for two weeks, the TV REMOTE is gathering dust! Oh, I spent countless hours enjoying reno. and do-it-yourself shows, but, my (undiagnosed) ADD (this is from the unfinished blog entry ‘My Daughter says I have ADD’) can stand TV for only so long!

I do love good news, though. And, recently I heard really good news.

My dad has been sick much of this past winter. He easily gets respiratory infections, pneumonia anything to do with lungs and breathing, he’s had it! He’s been admitted to hospital, drugged through the winter season with an assortment of medications that have been equally successful and failure in improving his condition, and had a butt-load of medical tests and procedures to uncover the root of his problems.

When there is ‘stuff’ going on in the lives of my family, I am so keenly aware of how far the east is from the west (from the unfinished blog entry of the same name). They live on the east coast, and I, on the west. They can watch the sun rise out of the Atlantic, and I can watch it set in the Pacific. They ‘get to have’ (they do not necessarily appreciate this privilege, as they got snow on April 1st this year … April Fools!) snow in the winter, and I suffer (and everyone around me suffers in my vocal suffering) with a season called Monsoon Season. On the East Coast you can buy coastal properties for under $100,000, on the west coast coastal properties are too expensive to hotel at! On the east coast the humor is dry and sarcastic (from the unfinished blog ‘We Have Sarcasm Themed Dinners’ … Seriously!), on the west coast, humor is … shipped in from the east 😉 And, I digress, again!

Truly, living so far away is a sucky bummer (from the unfinished blog entry of the same name … you’re gonna love that one). There is no popping over for a ‘mom talk’, there is no being there for birthdays, and Father’s Day, and bumping into brothers at the mall, and having a house full of my kid’s cousins. There is also no spending occasions with cheek squeezing auntie (where I come from aunts is not pronounced ‘ants’. Ants crawl on the floor, but my aunts … hum, maybe this reasoning doesn’t work so well!), or that creepy uncle (lets face it, every family has at least one relative that is the personification of ‘creepy’) … hum, there are some benefits of living on the opposite coast 😉 .

So this week I heard good news, after all of the tests my dad has been going through, the results are in, and he is okay. No cancer (a relief, as his dad suffered with lung cancer before he died), no pneumonia, no nothing really, except for a virus that he had picked up while in the hospital, at some point. Apparently this virus will be residing in him, as long as he’s residing on planet Earth, and is not problematic unless it flares, but there is good, reliable medication for it that.

Ahhhhh! Good News is so Good!

And so, we all continue living our unfinished lives, in our temporary homes (from the unfinished blog of the same name). It makes me wonder, as I always do when confronted with news (good or bad) … what is the lesson, what is there to learn from this? I figure if something is going to get my heart rate up, or cause me to sweat, or make me laugh hysterically, or cry from the depths of my soul, or make me shake with anger … there must be something to learn from it (whatever ‘it’ is), that I can benefit from. Sometimes it is so much easier to see the ‘benefit’ than others, when it seems to only be a lesson, and a hard one at that.

It’s sort of like when a child touches something hot, after being told not to … that is a hard lesson, and, for the child, who is crying because her hand hurts, the idea of ‘benefit’ from the lesson goes unseen. But, as an adult, we can see that the lesson, although painful, has benefit, as the child will not enter into that danger again. Hum, I guess our experience provides a bigger perspective.

Kind of like our lives. But we are the child. We have ‘stuff’ in life that burns our hands, that burns our hearts, and hurts like crazy. We think there is no tomorrow (or wish there was no tomorrow, so that the pain, the agony the hard ‘stuff’ of life would be over). But, what we ‘children’ think we see as complete and whole … God, the bigger-picture seeing parent, sees as unfinished, and He sees a bigger picture.

I wish I had His lens!

But, for now I am thankful that my dad is okay, that his days are unfinished … I guess there is a lesson, something to learn from this … for me, for him, for all of our family. I guess we need to seek out the answer to that, until it is … you know, finished.

^“We don’t yet see things clearly.

We’re squinting in a fog, peering through a mist.

But it won’t be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright!

We’ll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us!

But for right now, until that completeness,

we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation:

Trust steadily in God,

hope unswervingly,

love extravagantly.

And the best of the three is love.”

1 Corinthians 13:12-13

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