The Comical Misadventures of a Rambling Mind
6/12/2005

TIME IS ON MY SIDE by The Rolling Stones

I recently visited my Grandparents. It was a very overdue visit.

My Grandparents have been fortunate enough to be relatively good health for being in their 80s. My Grandmother has always been a worrier. (Thanks for passing that trait on.) She grew up during the The Depression, which means, she learned to live lean when times were tough. That carried on for the rest of her life.

My Grandfather is basically the same. A child of The Depression, who went to serve his country in World War II. A man who farmed as well as worked for other farmers later in life. A man who keeps his true feelings to himself. He has his own subtle ways to let you know he cares.

I say they are in relatively good health with valid reason. My Grandfather smoked for over 40 years. He finally quit when he developed pneumonia one winter. He coughed and hacked so much that it weakened his heart. Since then he will go to the hospital a couple times a year with breathing related concerns. He is on various medications to control his blood pressure and help his lung capacity. Yet he remains quite active. He gardens. He talks frequent short walks. He avidly works on crossword and jumble puzzles. His hearing is shot though. You can always tell when he's watching TV. You can hear it plainly in various rooms of the house.

My Grandmother diagnosis her own ailments. It took several years of prodding to get her to go get a physical. She, like many, had the notion that once a person goes to the doctor, they find something wrong and one things leads to another and then after a while they won't let you leave. Like a roach motel, you check in, until you 'check out.' A few years ago she came to her sense and had a minor surgical operation to remove a benign cyst that had bothered her for years (as long as I can remember her). She began taking blood pressure medication and watched what she ate in regards to a health diabetic lifestyle. She is not as outgoing and active as my Grandfather, but she gardens and will occasionally go on trips with her cousin/best friend.

No one likes to talk about death. People are capable of speaking of it, some just choose other, lighter topics of conversation. Since I've been living on my own I find that my visits back to their home usually carry a surprise.

I walked in the door of their home on my 23rd birthday and the first words out of my Grandmother's mouth were not Happy Birthday or any other kind of appropriate greeting. Instead she choose, "Can you look over my will?" as her opener. I tell this story jokingly, but there is always that underlying feeling of mortality. Of course they are older and the inevitable will be just that. I don't fool myself thinking they will be around forever. Yet, that's not exactly how anyone wants to start off their birthday. We joke about it now. (Sidenote: I never did look their will over that day)

This latest visit, my Grandmother physically looked older. She looked different. There was something about the way she carried herself that reminded me of when I was 8 years old. Back then, my Great Grandmother also lived with us. She helped out around the house while my Grandmother was still employed. She was a fiesty octogenarian herself back then. Stout Germany blood roared through her veins. The same blood that is in my Grandmother. When I saw her the other day, she looked more like her mother, my great grandmother, than I'd ever seen before. The way she would get up from the couch. The way she would carry herself as she walked around. The way her glasses looked on her. The same glasses that she had for years suddenly made her look like a totally different person.

In that instant she become her mother... and I was 8 years old again. Looking at my Grandmother as though I'd met her 'again' somehow. It was unnerving.

My Great Grandmother was in her early 80s when she died. She passed away in her sleep in her Falls City home. The details of that story I'll hold off on till another day. My Grandmother has already lived longer than her mother. This latest visit seemed to solidify the feeling that nothing last forever.

I know there will be regrets when that 'one day' comes, but I'm doing what I can now too make sure there is at least not as many.
I posted this @ 6/12/2005 07:44:00 PM.............Need a link?..........

I'm a 30-something student of human nature. A music-lovin', groove-shakin', laugh-inducin', dish-cookin', gossip-slingin', type of guy. This is my diary of sorts...

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