Blogging From Charlotte

Ah, the miracles of modern technology.  Here I am at the Charlotte airport, plopped on the floor next to a precious A/C receptacle.  In my next life time, flights will miraculously zoom non-stop from West Palm Beach to Minneapolis.  Until that fateful day, however, layovers in unfamiliar airports are my destiny.  Blogging on the floor is the cherry on top.

A pain the neck?  Yes.  Yet, one well worth the reward at the end of the rainbow:  I get to visit both of my parents via this trek. 

Few of my friends still have both their parents.  For many, facing the world with only one - or neither - of their folks has been their lot too long.

Not I.  For me, if I experience some triumph at the bridge table or secure a fabulous real estate deal, I can call Mom and Dad and crow.  If I'm having self-doubts, worried about investments, crushed about the illness of a dear friend -  Mom and Dad always want to listen.

For decades, I thought that my luxury of having parents would go on forever.  Virtually no one had folks like mine.  Dad played 18 holes of golf multiple times a week.  He'd spend the rest of his day tinkering with neighbors' computers, DVD's or printers, serve on local boards - then volunteer at the local school in his "spare" time.  Mom worked out every day of her life, sometimes up to two hours.  That would be followed by a wide variety of social endeavors, plus frequent shopping excursions.  Together, they enjoyed a rich social life filled with bridge games, theatre, movies, dinners, parties and the like.

Today, however, the whirlwind of activity has finally slowed.  Dad is still awfully busy, but golf is now 9 holes.  Some of his day now includes helping Mom.  Despite a lifelong healthy diet and more exercise than most, Mom now faces several physical hurdles.  Getting in and out of the car isn't easy.  Shopping tours remain in the past.  Mom socializes some, but it is not the carefree variety of years past.

Finally, time has caught up with us all.  I realize my parents are aging.

I realize I am aging, too.

My sister and I discuss what our roles should be now.  Should we advise our folks?  How often should we visit?  Should we interject ourselves into their medical needs?  Do they need assistance from us?  Are we attentive enough - or too much?

Although I am not and never will be a parent, I have seen scores of times the paths others take in that role.  When a child is 2 - or 5 or 8 or 16 or 25 - we have rough expectations that are generally met.  People "know" what they need to do for a baby, for a toddler, for a teenager.  (Well, maybe scratch that last one!)

For our parents?  Few signposts are available.  What is appropriate for one parent at 72 may be wholly unappropriate for another at 87.  And although we can guess at what should be done - or not - knowing with any degree of certainty is non-existent.

All I know is that Wendy and I will do our best, such as it is.  It won't be ideal and it won't be perfect, just as it was not when our parents were raising us.  Will my parents ever storm away, slam the door and say "I hate you and I wish you never existed!" as I did - more than once - when I lived at home?  I don't know. 

I hope that whatever happens, our parents will know how grateful we are for all the sacrifices they have made for us, all the love they have given to us, all the gifts they have bestowed upon us and all the wisdom they have attempted to impart to us.  The longer I live, the more I realize just how fortunate we have been, and how rare it all is.

It doesn't make my tushy feel any more comfy, sitting here on the spotted industrial carpeting of Charlotte airport, to think about how blessed I have been with my parents.  But it sure makes having a sore butt worth it - and then some.

Comments

[Duane]

I hope that whatever happens, our parents will know how grateful we are for all the sacrifices they have made for us, all the love they have given to us, all the gifts they have bestowed upon us and all the wisdom they have attempted to impart to us.

Caring for them the way you do, I'm sure they already got the message. My wife lost both of her parents between her late twenties/early thirties. I lost my Dad back in '01. Every hug, phone call or e-mail is precious to me.

[Rox]

Hey Peg,
Thanks for sharing your reflections about the changes in your parents' lives, and what role you and Wendy should play. As usual, your life and mine hold many parallels. My Dad still plays tennis several times a week. His bride of 45+ years has had some challenges recently and has had to curtail most of her workout regimen.

I spent some time at the Charlotte airport trying to get back home after visiting Dad on his 80th birthday, which happened to be the day that Florida was hit by Hurricane Wilma (and the day the Chicago White Sox won the World Series for the first time in 80 years)!

Your mother is still a beauty. (So are you.)

[Peg]

And you, my dear, are still the best friend anyone could have. "Only" about 52 years now - right?!

[Dave Smith]

Nice post, thanks for sharing.

I travelled to Illinois this weekend and spent Saturday night with Mom. She's 87, so there are only so many hugs left for me and I consider each one precious.