The pendulum is swinging back in my direction, and it’s heading straight for me, and there is nothing I can do to stop it. I’m just one little ball away from being toppled by it’s mighty blow.
I’m looking after my parents now. You see, this is the time in life where the roles have changed, and we, as children, ,must do our best to look after our aging parents.
It’s not an easy task, as I’m still their little boy in their eyes. (and many times, in mine.) They are creatures of a very regimented schedule, and strict habit. Casual living is not my parents’ strong suit. Taking it easy, and relaxing does not come easy to two very busy, and involved people. They have been forced to slow their breakneck pace due to illnesses, old age, and well; life. Technology has rolled over them like a locomotive. They refuse to leave their one cell phone on when it’s on the charger. They don’t even have call waiting.
I am responsible for getting them to and from appointments with the doctors. I also stop by every now and again just to have dinner, and get them caught up on my mundane and docile life. They look forward to my visits, as their friends are mostly over the phone friends these days. I help them put away the holiday decorations, as the boxes are just too big to carry down the basement steps. I fix the plumbing, and the electrical, and put up new shelves. These are all things my Father would do on his own, and I know how to do them because he took the time to show me 'how to'.
I am conflicted often about having to drop everything and run over to their house. I go, kicking and screaming, and cursing as I drive. I argue with myself at how selfish I appear to be, and how dare you for a second act that ungrateful to the two people who brought you into this world, and gave you so much for so long. I hang my head in shame from the guilt I feel about my thoughts.
Today, I’ll fix a ceiling fan that’s on the fritz. Mom will hug me for what seems like a full 10 minutes, thanking me profusely. Dad will shake my hand, and pat his Mr. Fixit on the back. And I will leave, with a smile on my face, as I’m reminded that paying it back comes in many different forms. This is my job now, and I’m perfectly suited for it. I’ve got to run for now. It’s pizza night, and a light fixture needs new bulbs.
I’m looking after my parents now. You see, this is the time in life where the roles have changed, and we, as children, ,must do our best to look after our aging parents.
It’s not an easy task, as I’m still their little boy in their eyes. (and many times, in mine.) They are creatures of a very regimented schedule, and strict habit. Casual living is not my parents’ strong suit. Taking it easy, and relaxing does not come easy to two very busy, and involved people. They have been forced to slow their breakneck pace due to illnesses, old age, and well; life. Technology has rolled over them like a locomotive. They refuse to leave their one cell phone on when it’s on the charger. They don’t even have call waiting.
I am responsible for getting them to and from appointments with the doctors. I also stop by every now and again just to have dinner, and get them caught up on my mundane and docile life. They look forward to my visits, as their friends are mostly over the phone friends these days. I help them put away the holiday decorations, as the boxes are just too big to carry down the basement steps. I fix the plumbing, and the electrical, and put up new shelves. These are all things my Father would do on his own, and I know how to do them because he took the time to show me 'how to'.
I am conflicted often about having to drop everything and run over to their house. I go, kicking and screaming, and cursing as I drive. I argue with myself at how selfish I appear to be, and how dare you for a second act that ungrateful to the two people who brought you into this world, and gave you so much for so long. I hang my head in shame from the guilt I feel about my thoughts.
Today, I’ll fix a ceiling fan that’s on the fritz. Mom will hug me for what seems like a full 10 minutes, thanking me profusely. Dad will shake my hand, and pat his Mr. Fixit on the back. And I will leave, with a smile on my face, as I’m reminded that paying it back comes in many different forms. This is my job now, and I’m perfectly suited for it. I’ve got to run for now. It’s pizza night, and a light fixture needs new bulbs.
