60 years ( almost) and counting

For some strange reason this birthday is looming so much bigger than any other. It sounds like such a large number, and I find myself filled with trepidation about the next decade. I know that I had trouble living through my thirties, and so, maybe the new decade is more scary because so many people develop new health problems once they become (ugh!) a senior citizen. All the pollsters begin a new group for people older than 59-- I pray that I don't start thinking like an old person just because the calendar page will turn next week.

I also think that the transition we've made with Mom this year is bringing new meaning to getting older. Of course, we all want to get older, since the alternative is unknown and may really suck, but I fear the process of losing my spark; losing the youthful interest in so many topics and losing the ability to keep up with conversations and long walks. I fear that I really will start acting like an older person--or worse, still, that I will lose the ability to remain open to new ideas and technology. I already have a challenge with the TV or the blu-ray. What will happen when newer technology comes along. I hope I can keep up. I don't believe that my Mom did right away--she was the only one who taught all those "old ladies" to program their VCR's a while ago. She kept driving until she really couldn't any more and she remained current with things in the news. So maybe I'm not afraid of 60 as much as I'll be afraid of 80!

Maybe that will be the new horizon that scares me to death (if I'm lucky enough to still be around).

Maybe just being afraid of acting old will be enough to keep oldness at bay for a little while longer. I still want to hold the wonder of the world around me the way that our grandsons marvel at simple things like clouds, bugs, volcanoes and the hair on your head. Maybe allowing myself the time to wonder about things and travel to see new places will be the anti-aging agent I seek. Only time will tell. I hope the people who love me will be open and honest when I start acting too old, so I can readjust my thinking for as long as possible. Maybe 60 won't be so bad, after all, I feared all the other big decades and grew through each one. I wish Mom were able to remember how it was to turn 60, maybe she could guide me through that time, but I'll be happy if she remembers when my birthday is, and maybe we'll share a smile and a single memory to hold old age at bay for just another day......

The Mourning Process

I am convinced that I am essentially in mourning. The sadness that has come over me may be depression, but I honestly believe that seeing Mom's furniture and life's treasures donated and or tossed away has brought me to a level of loss. All of this was supposedly completed last week as my brother and I handed in the keys and signed off on Mom having a residence of her own. But with Mother's Day approaching I need to keep reminding myself that I still have a mother who can be visited and is part of my life.

The fact that she no longer is really the person I used as my model for mothering is part of the mourning process. I don't think I ever really understood how much I looked at her as my guide until this year. I rarely asked her opinion when I was a young mother. It always seemed as if I was charting my own territory--learning how to parent with Larry and doing what seemed appropriate for our sons at different times in their growth. But now, I think I really used her as the guidepost for most of those parenting decisions. Maybe it's true for everyone--that adage you "Parent as you were parented" is more valid than anyone wishes. Sometimes we make a decision to do something completely different than our parents did, and I remember those times, but I believe that more often than not, I followed Mom's lead because I believe she was a great mother! She built confidence and security into our lives while offering her unconditional love at all times. She was flexible and accommodated our crazy schedules while often foregoing things that were important to her. Finally, the love that she and our Dad shared gave us the model that we needed for the way a marriage and a family SHOULD work. Of course, I've done a few things differently, but for the most part I think I didn't reinvent the mousetrap. I followed that pattern that gave me security as a child.

So, now that security is shaken. Seeing Mom diminished, and finding her without the possessions she so lovingly collected has made me aware of losses in her capabilities and persona--things that can't be retrieved. So, as Mother's Day approaches, I must deal with the new Mom I have--still embodied in the blond (now grey), blue-eyed person I've loved, but different nonetheless. So the mourning process begun by dementia will continue. Still, at least for this year, I can wish my Mom a Happy Mother's Day, and know that at some level she'll enjoy the day and we will maintain the bond that has supported us for nearly 60 years.