Taking care of family members especially those losing their memories can be a challenge. It’s a lot of giving, caring, and sharing tips everywhere you go.
“They” call it compassion fatigue now for those who are on constant call—without the beeper on the hip like a doctor. Remember beepers?!
And then when your little human is all growed up, getting married and makes more money than you do, and is glowing with anticpation and positivity about her life with her good man—it makes the heart swell with pride and joy.
It brings home to mind how youth is bliss and spirit-willing–never folly.
Now drinking collagen with peptides in your coffee religiously and eating real beets to stave off aging and wrinkles is part of the lifestyle. AND.
Resisting the urge to discuss health maladies and President Cheeto at social gatherings is mandatory. Right up there with politics, sex, and religion. What’s left to talk about?
Other people. And the choices they make. Which somehow, comes right back to politics, sex, and religion. And President Cheeto.
Never mind the tiny losses of memory that creep up and steal your pin to your debit card that you’ve had for 50 years. No one knows but your friendly bank teller who had to reset it twice for you in person.
Or that fact sometimes you consider buying a pair of “designer” jeans at Costco and then you stop yourself because you don’t want to be a contributor the BLUE RIVER in China and somehow suddenly, you feel the self-consciousness of the unboogieness of giant box-store-denim and how it couldn’t possibly help with perking up the derrière.
Look it up, it’s a real thing that the fashion world doesn’t talk about at the Met Ball.
Not my derrière silly! The Blue River.
Meanwhile, your husband buys a momental size of Prilosic in case he parties too much on Friday night with the boys and then L’acidità keeps him awake afterward which then robs him (and you) of good sleep which doesn’t help the foggy brain that comes with enrolling in Medicare and letting your hair turn silver.
(And hopefully not Grateful Dead fan-club-grey).
And when your lil’ big human (and her “he’s-the-son-I’ve-always-wanted” fiancée) buys you a red-light therapy mask for Mother’s Day because she is an active listener and heard that you envied Charlize Theron’s mask who said it was all she did for anti-aging and looks fricking amazing so therefore I want to try it.
So thoughtful. Sigh. My job as a mother is done.
For now.
Until she needs grand-kitty sitting which I don’t mind cuz Miss Kitty is a lil’ snaggletooth bitch with beautiful hair who magically purrs then hisses in case you have other plans that doesn’t include treats.
Pets and animals can be as cranky as humans. Don’t fence them in. That’s my wisdom for the day.
Be safe and kiss your loved ones when you can, j
