Humor – Margery Frisch

Knocking on Heaven’s Door

An Undeniable Fact of Life
I’ve come screaming up to my 72nd birthday and yes, screaming is the right word to describe it – kicking and screaming would be more accurate.
What I’d like to know is: how did this happen so fast? It was only a short while ago, it seems, that I was longing for my 16th birthday, living for my driver’s license. Then, in the blink of an eye, I was out in the real world, making a living (of sorts) and longing to find a forever love.
Finding my forever love and getting on with my grown-up life was exciting, thrilling even…then I couldn’t wait to become a mommy. Well, that period, though slow in the day-to-day, sped by in another blink, maybe two. Surviving my sons’ teens was a rollercoaster ride, but that quickly passed.
When the grandchildren came along, I felt I had died and gone to heaven. But they, too, are moving through life far too quickly for my liking. And now, here we are, the oldest grandchild turning 16 and living for his driver’s license…and I am 72!
I wake up in the morning with a sore thumb; the joint in my thumb throbs if I try to do anything with it – pull open a drawer, pick up a spoon, push a button. What is that all about?
The thumb pain dissolves, only to be replaced by an excruciating knee pain when I walk the dog. That goes away too, replaced by a throbbing toe…neck, finger, arm, shoulder, eye…take your pick, it’s a merry-go-round of afflicted limbs. Why? I exercise, I eat properly (most of the time), I keep my weight down, so as not to burden my joints and add to their pain.
It’s just ageing, plain and simple. But I refuse to take it lying down, I will fight it to my dying day. And, by fighting, I’m not talking about trying to look younger. I stopped colouring my hair years ago because a blonde, with more wrinkles than hairs on her head looks a little scary. I won’t pay money for plastic surgery; do they still call it that? Oh, it’s cosmetic surgery, as if that makes all the difference. But I will continue to walk everywhere around town, ride my bike to the post office and the library and down to the park along the waterfront. I will go to line dancing and act in Murder Mysteries, read my book club books and keep my writing group together and write and write and write.
I will work hard to show my grandchildren that ageing, though an undeniable fact of life, is not something to be dreaded or feared. It’s a fun time of life and the busier you are, the less time you will have to dwell on the aches and the pains.
And, speaking of the grandchildren, they are the future. Let us not bring them down with negativity, there is so much of it in the world, but let us lift them up, give them hope and promise of a bright future. And when, in the blink of an eye, they are staring 72 in the face, may they laugh, hop on their bikes and ride on without fear. Perhaps, by the time they’ve reached this age, old age pain will be eliminated. One can only hope.

Knocking on Heaven’s door

Lessons Learned

I am my mother’s daughter. My family will sometimes call me T. Way, when I sound or act like my father – worrying about everything. But I am very much like my mother too. She had numerous admirable qualities, making the raising of seven children appear effortless. Unfortunately, those qualities I did not inherit.

If you were sick, in a household of nine, on a busy school morning, you got short shrift. Mother didn’t spend a lot of time fussing over you. In later years, when she got cancer, most of her friends didn’t know. Never knew about the weeks and weeks of radiation treatments. She continued going to meetings and offering to help on various committees. My sister Patti was truly mother’s daughter, working fulltime through her cancer treatments up until the last few months before she died.

These women taught me that sickness is not something to be pitied or rued. So what am I supposed to do with a man cold? Seriously, I grew up in an unsympathetic household in which sickness was no big deal. So, when my sweet, affable husband turns into a different being entirely, how am I supposed to react? It has always mystified me, for we have been here many times before.

All the day long, never stirring from the bed, then thrashing the sheets and blankets off at 3:00 in the morning, turning on lights, coughing and hacking his way to the bathroom, coming back and falling into bed, wheezing with ragged breaths, too exhausted to care or notice that all the lights have been left on. I get up, rearrange the sheets and blankets, and turn out the lights. Is this done in saintly fashion? Heavens no! It’s more than mild annoyance that propels me out of bed to set things straight. Then I lie there at 3:00 in the morning – wide awake and fuming.

What’s the lesson here? I know there’s a lesson to be learned. I know God is smiling, trying so hard not to laugh – at me…at us. My silent annoyance begins to fade and I too smile. One thing God has blessed me with and for which I am eternally grateful, is a healthy sense of humor. It has carried me through 40-plus years of marriage – and marriage, as we all know, can try the patience of a saint. Though, what saints have and what I sorely lack is patience. God tests me on this attribute (or lack thereof) often. It’s a daily struggle for me, though it is often an easier hurdle to overcome at any other time of the day.3:00 in the morning is really pushing it!

But, let’s look on the bright side – 3:00 am is an ideal time to have a chat with God, who will always calm us down and set us back on the right path. (And that path for me, to the relief of many, has never included a career in nursing.)