As I was saying...

Hello again...sorry for the abrupt ending to my last post.  Pete came in and needed to use the computer.

So Florence is 89, and after taking care of her for the past two years, I've decided that I do NOT want to get old.  No way.  She tells me it's awful, it's frustrating, it's annoying and confusing.  I told her I already HAVE those feelings, wishing I was 25 again...I know I am only 42, but I can't remember stuff as well as I used to, I can't run uphill or do as much cardio as I used to, and I can't wear 5 inch high heels anymore because I have diabetes...(Type 2)...so I have to take extra care of my feet.

(Side note: When we honeymooned in San Francisco, my feet hurt so bad from all the walking, I had to go buy a new pair of those Sketcher shoes that supposedly help strengthen muscles in the back of your thighs and reduce your butt as you walk. My foot doctor says they are "bastard shoes that lie about what they do." We spent $80 bucks on bastard shoes. But, my feet felt better while walking up to Coit Tower, so I guess they worked).

But I digress.  I just wanted Florence to know that "the only sure thing in life, is CHANGE." She laughed and said, "Because bills are hard to come by nowadays. Everybody has plenty of change though."  She's quite a hoot, this woman. Sometimes she gets in a good one like that.  I told her that everybody changes as they grow older, as a former O.R. nurse, she should know that.  I told her it's ok to still feel like she's in her 40's, but the reality is, she is 89. She's GOING to forget stuff.  She's GOING to have aches and pains. She's GOING to be confused sometimes, that's just what happens. There's not much we can do about it.

And then I look into the mirror.  I feel almost guilty for saying those things to her, when I can't seem to accept that same thing about MYSELF.  I SHOULD be able to remember stuff better, I SHOULD be able to run uphill, do more cardio, and wear 5 or 10 inch heels DAMMIT.  What a crock growing old is.

I think God got it backwards. We should be able to have FUN when we grow older, since we worked our butts off during our younger years.  We shouldn't be falling apart, worrying about our health, getting fat, our eyesight failing, freaking out about another wrinkle on our faces...I'm just annoyed that it all seems so backwards to me.  Pete keeps telling me I am at the "prime of my life."  HA!!  That annoys me too.  THIS is my PRIME?! Good Lord, I'm doomed.

Ah well, so I guess this time around I just wanted to write to you about getting old, and how I think about it a lot.  Do you ever wonder sometimes who, among all the Journey guys, will pass away first?  I mean, nobody EVER expected John Lennon to be the first to go in the Beatles, ya know?  I hope you outlive them ALL, personally.  But, for myself, I wonder if it'll be Pete or me first?  I am lucky so far, I still have both parents alive, (though I don't really have a relationship with my dad), and both of my younger sisters are still alive so far too.  Will I be the first in my family to die? What the heck is going to GET ME, I wonder?  Cancer?  Snuffed by a bus? A bee sting? (I'm allergic).

Yeah, sometimes I am rather morbid when I think of stuff like this, but doesn't everyone think about it? Am I the only one? I can't be the only one.  It's just something that sometimes occupies my thoughts.

Well, the way I figure it, I will most likely be one of those crazy ladies with lots of cats.  I'll have one of those "hoveround" scooter things, and I'll put a turbo engine in it, along with an OWOOGA horn on it, to scare the bejeezus outta people in my way.  Yeahhhh, I'll be like the cartoon character "Maxine," a badass old lady with blue hair, zooming around and honking at people on my hoveround scooter. I'll wear frumpy slippers, socks, and a flowery dress with my slip showing. Yep, I see my future. I will harass people, I'll be a curmudgeon, I'll yell at kids to "GET OFF MY LAWN!" and I'll love it.  Hell, I think I'll even talk to trees just to make people wonder.  I like to mess with people like that.

Maybe getting old will be more fun than Florence knows how to have...she's always been too serious. She needs to lighten up a little. I tell her that all the time.  This is a lady who never learned how to dance. She's never liked going to the movies, because her father was angry at how FAKE they were. She had never even heard of the Three Stooges!  She's watched them with me, but only shakes her head at how silly they are. I try to make her laugh as often as I can, because she's always got some kind of crisis going on in her head, or worry, or guilt feeling, or her psoriasis is acting up, etc....

Frankly I get rather tired of hearing about her daily ailments.  Sometimes I think she is a hypochondriac. I definitely think she's an attention whore sometimes too.  I've told Pete that many times.  If I don't sit with her and spend as much time with her as possible, she seems to get more ailments as the day goes on. I made her take a bubble bath today. Getting her up 15 stairs, helping her into the tub, scrubbing her hair,  (because her hands are all gnarled), and then lifting her out again...it's quite the ordeal.

I remember when I once had a life of my own, a career, a place to live, a nice life of being single. Sure, I had a hard time financially sometimes, but that's what ketchup packets are for...to make tomato soup with....yes, I've done that many a time.  But, I survived, and still somehow gained weight!!  DAMMIT!

Ya know what I just thought of?  Out of nowhere, for no reason, I just remembered that old Atari video game that you guys made---where the groupies chase you and you all have to outrun them to get to the Scarab space ship or something....good Lord....I still HAVE that damned thing!!  I do not, however, even own an Atari anymore...but the ARCADE version of that game was awesome, with your little black and white faces on tiny colorful cartoon bodies...what a hoot...I remember playing that...a lot!!

Ok, so my mind wanders. I'm only 42. It's downhill from here.

Talk to you later, gator.  I'm heading up to Michigan (an 8 hour drive) this weekend to get my mom for the holidays. She's like a balm to the wound of Florence's old age. The two of them get along like two peas in a pod!!  It'll be nice to have some "me" time for a change, and let my mom entertain her a bit.

Love, Rebecca