I have my parents from Manitoba visiting this week. I love when they come! They remind me of who I am and where I have come from. I feel like I fit in. There is the “dance” around our tiny kitchen seeing how we can avoid or bump into each other preparing meals and setting the table. We usually smack into each other a few times a day. I see how much I have learned from my mom in her cooking and in her patience with my kids. I hear the corny jokes my dad repeats and find myself smiling, hoping that he keeps on telling them every year so that the tradition is not broken. My oldest Daughter loves to regale us with similar jokes and I am thrilled to have the humor torch passing down to the next generation, even if it is corny or a bit (a lot) off color. My 12 year old appreciates the bodily noises that my family is keen to make. It keeps him in no end to stitches. You know that when your 79 year old dad, The Reverend and your 12 year old have the same humor, they ALL have a 12 year old sense of humor!
I see myself in my mom during the moments when I get up from the couch at the same time as my mom, and we are BOTH all hunched over, with a creak and a groan. I realize just how much I’m aging like my mother. We waddle ourselves into the upright position with a crank or two from an imaginary lever. In the end, we both get off the couch and eventually can move like cats (HA) but we can MOVE.
There have been times that I’ve walked into walls as if they’ve stepped out in front of me. “Who put that wall there?” I have been known to mumble to myself. My dad has been known to veer off into the direction of the wall or wherever his attention has him going. His balance has been off since his stroke a couple of years ago. I walk into a wall and I realize, wow! I’m just like my dad. With these traits I’m sure that I’m an Aging Early Bloomer. At least I am an Early Bloomer at something?
My mom and I were walking yesterday morning, in the glorious sunshine, and feeling GREAT about getting 3kms under our shoes, when WHAM! She slid on a piece of gravel the size of an egg and all of the sudden she decided that the sidewalk was not close enough, and that it should be inspected at high velocity, with a structural test of her slamming her nose and forehead into it. I was wondering what the hurry was to inspect the concrete, when I saw the blood. I looked around to see what I could do to stem the flow when I spied the brown leaf on the grass beside us. Nope, that is not going to help. I thought about taking off my shirt to stop the bleeding but I think it would have just stopped traffic. A small town rep is something to consider! She was off that ground so quickly I had to keep up with her to make sure she was ok. When we got home, and her hands and face were covered in blood, I knew that we had to take a trip to our lovely ER. Taking four kids to the Emergency Room could be considered a Field Trip so they came along for the ride. After a warmed blanket and a soothing face cloth she felt almost as good as if she had she gone to a spa. Oh, you know I’m exaggerating! But she did look well rested…what with the black eyes and red nose and gash across her nose. They cleaned her up, took an x-ray and told her to go home. We did what we were told. We got coffee and donuts at Timmies. Isn’t that the orders the Dr gave us?
We thought all was fine, until a call from the Dr. the next day. She needed to come in for a cast. She had broken a small bone in her wrist and needed it stabilized. So now, she has a great story about that time when she came to her daughter’s place and the gravel tried to do her in. Dangerous gravel! We should just not be such an exciting family! We’ve broken two Grandmas in the last couple of years. Our other grandma put a bike pedal through her calf that required stitches in the very same room of the hospital. Poor Grandmas…they should come with body armor.
Even if my dad doesn’t get around the way he used to, he still dares to come and stay with us. My mom will now bring face guards and shin pads, I”m sure. It’s not that we’re trying to hurt them…it’s just that we are a busy family. I have a tough momma though, and she bounced right back and did 2km with me the next day. Truth be told, with the size of the gravel in this town, I am surprised that I haven’t bitten the dust a time or two with my interval training. It is something I am very wary of. With the graceful genes that I’ve been dealt it is bound to happen. Thanks for inspecting that sidewalk for me Mom!
They are a funny pair, my parents. When I was younger and more stupid I said “I’m never going to be like them.” Hasn’t every teenager said that? Well, here I am doing just the same things. I’m glad I was taught that humor is a good response to many things…but maybe not a funeral. So, Laugh on! So far no funeral!!