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Thursday, August 16, 2012

Both Sides - GBE 2: #65 Two Perspectives


Both Sides

GBE 2: Blog On 
#65 Two Perspectives


“Speak up, quit mumbling.” My Dad grumbles as he squints at me. “If you wouldn’t talk so low while standing across the room, I could hear what you have to say.”  I’m in Florida for a short vacation to check up on the folks.

I can see their health has declined somewhat from the year before.  I clean their house as much as I can without offending them.  I can see the cobwebs….I’m pretty certain they can’t. 

He refuses to consider hearing aids since those are for old people.  At 84 years old, he walks the boardwalk at Dania Beach, Florida, weather permitting, on a daily basis. On the real sunny days, he takes off his shirt, puffs up his chest and struts.  This diminutive Irishman with the startling blue eyes is certain his is all that and a bag of chips too! He wears his speed-o around us kids…the thong comes out the moment we leave…..
Dad tells us, his four remaining children, that he walks six miles, but we all know it’s about  1 ½ miles.  Dad tells us he swims daily as well.  I haven’t seen it. 

“Those Goddamn kids are riding their bikes on the walk path again. There is never a patrolman around when you want them, probably sitting in some coffee shop.” His face gets a little scrunchy and turns a little red with ire.  “One of these days those Goddamn kids are gonna run someone over, then maybe those patrolmen will be where they are supposed to be. I hope one of them falls and breaks their neck! There won’t be any of these Goddamn kids when we get back to Michigan, not on a dirt road.”  Dad seems to bluster even more than normal.

Mom and Dad hit Michigan on an annual vacation, they stay two weeks.  Their vacation is typically the last week of July and the first week of August.  We, the kids and grandkids, take turns with our visits so we don’t overwhelm them.  They become fatigued quickly with all of their company.

My turn to visit was the first weekend of Mom and Dad’s visit to Michigan.  My younger brother, Scott, was staying with them for their visit.  The folks simply cannot maneuver the stairs to get to the basement, for laundry.  Of course  Scott hid out there whenever he had enough blustering from  the Folks, too.

Mom stayed inside, sitting on the couch in the living room, nose pressed in her Word Search booklet. She said she enjoys hearing the fun going on outside but doesn’t really want to participate. Her face is showing a whole lot more of her “character”.  She tells me she has gained five pounds.  I tell her, that gaining weight is a sign of life.  Only the sick and dying actually lose weight without trying. We smile a knowing smile.

Dad has lost another ten pounds since I last saw him.  He walks a little more hunched over.  He is trying to join in the fun and walks down the steep steps to the lake.  Jumping in off the dock rather than diving, he is a mere four feet from the ladder.  Dad is struggling and cannot lift his arms to swim the crawl.  Scott, standing at the ready, tells him to do the breast stroke.  Struggling, Dad makes it to the ladder in what seems like an extraordinarily long time.  Scott and I exchange looks.  Dad sits on a deck chair for a while to catch his breath.  We watch as he drags himself back up the stairs to the house. 

Laying on the hammock, my Dad sleeps for the next four hours.  He doesn’t bluster the rest of the day.
We, the four remaining children, meet to have a conversation about the folks.  As much as he blusters and she refrains from interacting with others, we know their time is short.  With or without hearing aids, they have grown old. 

15 comments:

  1. When I finished reading this, I stopped for a minute to let it all settle in. Your words offer the reality and its companion emotions readily to your readers and I find myself needed to exhale deeply. So well done!

    The decline of age is inevitable. I know it is. We'll all get there and if we're honest with ourselves, we'd admit that in small, barely perceivable ways, our path to old has begun. But like 85-year-old men who still see what's inside, rather than the wearing out of the physical body, we keep on simply being ourselves.

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    1. On occasion he wants my mother to wear pig-tails. She gives him the "stink eye" first, then sometimes actually puts her hair in them. Bless her heart for caring for a man who thinks he's still 16!

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  2. This is a reality most of us have faced by now with aging parents. You portrayed both sides very well. None of us like to see that we are aging although it is evident to others. Great job.

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    1. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story. Dealing with an angry old man, angry that his IS old....sometimes takes it's toll on me! Thankfully, I have siblings who understand..push me into doing what needs to be done with the parents...but they do understand.

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  3. How different their perceptions are in their own mind to the reality. It is sad to watch those we love get old. You did a wonderful job writing the two perceptions.

    Kathy
    http://gigglingtruckerswife.blogspot.com

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    1. I am certain I needed the wake-up call to realize how little time they have left.

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  4. We dont realize do we, that we are growing old. Sometimes we don't recognize ourselves in the mirror. So sad, but inevitable and true

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    1. I don't know how my mother gets in my mirror, on a daily basis! Too true.

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  5. This was a hard one for me to read. As you know, my Momma is nearly 90 and I see almost daily the mental changes. She physically does less every month and I try not to do too much because obviously, the less she makes herself do the less she will be able to do. I do what she simply cannot do and I always offer any bigish job, like window washing, she cannot do that.

    The thing here is, I know she feels my age. I know I feel my daughter's age. I know we are both lying to ourselves,but maybe that's what keeps us moving. Keeps us breathing. Keeps us somewhat sane.

    I am aging so much more quickly than I expected I would and I sometimes just get angry at myself, as your dad is, for being less today than I was yesterday and even worse, knowing it will be even less tomorrow.

    Beautifully and lovingly done.

    Eye leakage is gone now. ♥

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  6. Thank you Jo. I really does mean a lot to me that you take the time. And that you like...thank you

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  7. That swimming episode with your dad exactly mirrors the one with my mother this summer up at the lake. Hard to watch.

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  8. Very hard to watch. We actually attached our raft to the dock so he wouldn't be tempted to try to swim to it. If there is a next year, we are going to make a big deal about rubber floats instead of swimming....allow us all to relax.

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  9. Read this post and thought, "OMG, are we the parents here?" Hubby keeps misunderstanding things because he can only half hear. He spends 30 minutes mowing the lawn, then comes in and naps for an hour. I throw only things I know I'll likely need into a backpack when I go to Chicago and still have to tell the granddaughter, "Slow down a little," as I huff and puff. Pardon me. I'm going to go check the mirror now to count the wrinkles.

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  10. I totally understand!! I'm that tweener that cannot move her furniture anymore...and no, I don't want hearing aids yet either! it does make me feel younger having my "older" parents around...although, I do tend to overdo things when I'm around them....Thank you for taking the time to read my story. I really appreciate it.

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