March 9, 2012--Ladies of Forest Trace: Lifeweary
“I’m feeling very old.” My nearly 104-year-old mother was on the phone.
“Well, mom, to be honest with you, you are getting old,” I said but quickly added er to make it, “You are getting older.”
“I didn’t call for you to tell me how old I am. That I myself already know. I was hoping you would say something to make me feel better. I’ve been down in the dumps all morning.”
“Sorry to hear that, mom. And I’m sorry I didn’t come up with something to ease your mind.”
“It’s not my mind that needs easing. It’s the rest of me.”
“Are you trying to tell me something about how you’re feeling? I mean, do you have any symptoms that are concerning you? Like shortness of breath or palpitations.”
“None of those thank God. But I’m not myself.”
“Which means?”
“Look at my arms--I know you can’t because you’re on the phone--but they have black patches.”
“That’s probably from the baby aspirin you take to thin your blood. This is normal for someone your age.”
“Again about my age. Why do you keep reminding me about it?”
“Because you brought it up. You called and said you’re feeling old.”
“Very old,” she corrected me.
“Is that it? Some normal bleeding under your skin? You know that’s not serious and . . .”
“Of course I know that. It’s other things too.”
“Such as?”
“None of the food tastes good to me any more. I mean the food I can chew.”
“I know you’re having trouble with meats.”
“Other things too. I can’t live on scrambled eggs and bananas.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“I’m not feeling good or happy. There is too much change here where I live. New people, new staff, new chairs in the lobby. At this point in my life I like things to stay as they were. Even change for the better upsets me.”
“I think I understand that. As I get older I like my routines.”
“That too. My hairdresser where I used to go every Thursday is no longer there.”
“But doesn’t she come to the house now to do your hair?”
“Yes. But that’s change too. She doesn’t have all the things she had at the beauty parlor. The sink where she does my hair. I mean, did my hair. Here she has to wash it in the sink in the bathroom. On a chair she drags in from the kitchen. The dryer she brings is different than the one they had at the beauty parlor. The one I’m used to. Everything is changing and it’s making me feel upset and old. As I told you, very old.”
“What about your programs on TV? You like CNN and Bill O’Reilly.”
“Only for entertainment,” she was quick to add.
“I know. You always tell me that. Though I suspect you like some of the things O’Reilly says.”
“Not true,” she snapped. I liked hearing the energy in her voice. I was hoping talking about politics would help bring her out of her despondency.
“I’m not sure how much longer I can go on. Everything happening in the world is upsetting me. And here at home as well. I’m 104 and . . .”
“Not until the end of June,” I said. “No need to make yourself older than necessary.”
“I agree. I shouldn’t do that. I know I can be my own worst enemy.”
“We’ve talked about that. How you should try to notice when you begin to do that and then look for ways to distract yourself. Watch something entertaining on TV. Stop watching all the bad news.”
“All the time Breaking news. Breaking news. Plane crashes, tornadoes, bombings. It goes on day and night.”
“Exactly. So listen to music. Call someone you haven’t heard from in a long time. One of your young great-nieces and nephews. You like talking to them.”
“I do do that and it does help. But I’m feeling tired and depressed. Even what the girls are saying over dinner is upsetting me.”
“In what way? What’s going on?”
“You know I try not to talk politics with them. But because of the election some of them are watching the debates and speeches. I am sensing that they are thinking about voting for Romney or, even worse, Grinch.”
“You’ve mentioned that to me before. But what about you? What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that Romney will be nominated and could win the election. What happens if gasoline hits $5.00 a gallon in September? Or Israel is at war with Iran? Or unemployment goes back up? Any of these things are possible; and if they happen, watch out.”
“And you’re thinking?”
“That maybe Obama isn’t up to it.”
“To being reelected?”
“That too. But maybe not up to being president.”
“I’m surprised to hear you say that. Are you watching more FOX News than just Bill O’Reilly? Maybe you’ve also been watching Sean Hannity?”
“No. Him I can’t stand. No one is influencing me. I read the Herald and they carry stories from your New York Times. I read those too. Before doing the crossword puzzle. Maybe we need someone else who can work better with Congress.”
“To me it’s a nightmare to think of someone like Romney as president working with a Republican Congress. That could be the end of us.”
“You’re saying this to make me feel better? Talking to you is making it worse.” Before I could say anything, she added, “I take that back. You and your brother and my daughters-in-law always make me feel better. Especially the girls. They’re like daughters to me.”
“I’m glad to hear that. We love you and want you to feel as good as possible.”
“Just as possible? How about just good? With no as possibles?” She chuckled so I knew she was doing a little better.
“I stand corrected.”
“About me you don’t have to worry. I’ll be voting for Obama. Over all he's doing very well. In spite of all the Republicans who from day one wanted to see him fail, he’s accomplished a lot. Not perfect, but a lot. He improved how we are seen around the world and made sure the recession didn’t become another Depression. About that I’m old enough to be an expert.”
“That I know. I’ve heard the stories about how you and your family struggled to live through the Great Depression.”
“And I’ll make sure all the girls vote for Obama. Like the last time. Remember four years ago how I convinced everyone to get over his defeating Hillary and that they should vote for him?”
“I do. That was very impressive.”
“If I live until November and am feeling well, I’ll be doing it again. No hanging chads for the ladies!”
“That’s what I like to hear.” I hoped by focusing on working for Obama that she was feeing more optimistic about the future. The world’s and hers.
“While I have you on the phone, one more thing.”
“Sure, mom, anything.”
“I’m doing the Times puzzle and need a little help. If necessary look up the answer on your computer. About crosswords I don’t mind a little cheating.”
“Go on.”
“Six letters, ending in SA. What’s the ‘Potemkin Steps locale’?”
I mused out loud, “Somewhere in Russia but not Moscow.”
“As I said, six letters and I’m sure of the S and the A.”
“I have Google up on my screen and am typing in P-O-T-E-M . . .”
But before I could finish, with a firm voice she said, “Not necessary. I figured it out. It’s ODESSA. Not far from where I was born.”
“Well, mom, to be honest with you, you are getting old,” I said but quickly added er to make it, “You are getting older.”
“I didn’t call for you to tell me how old I am. That I myself already know. I was hoping you would say something to make me feel better. I’ve been down in the dumps all morning.”
“Sorry to hear that, mom. And I’m sorry I didn’t come up with something to ease your mind.”
“It’s not my mind that needs easing. It’s the rest of me.”
“Are you trying to tell me something about how you’re feeling? I mean, do you have any symptoms that are concerning you? Like shortness of breath or palpitations.”
“None of those thank God. But I’m not myself.”
“Which means?”
“Look at my arms--I know you can’t because you’re on the phone--but they have black patches.”
“That’s probably from the baby aspirin you take to thin your blood. This is normal for someone your age.”
“Again about my age. Why do you keep reminding me about it?”
“Because you brought it up. You called and said you’re feeling old.”
“Very old,” she corrected me.
“Is that it? Some normal bleeding under your skin? You know that’s not serious and . . .”
“Of course I know that. It’s other things too.”
“Such as?”
“None of the food tastes good to me any more. I mean the food I can chew.”
“I know you’re having trouble with meats.”
“Other things too. I can’t live on scrambled eggs and bananas.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“I’m not feeling good or happy. There is too much change here where I live. New people, new staff, new chairs in the lobby. At this point in my life I like things to stay as they were. Even change for the better upsets me.”
“I think I understand that. As I get older I like my routines.”
“That too. My hairdresser where I used to go every Thursday is no longer there.”
“But doesn’t she come to the house now to do your hair?”
“Yes. But that’s change too. She doesn’t have all the things she had at the beauty parlor. The sink where she does my hair. I mean, did my hair. Here she has to wash it in the sink in the bathroom. On a chair she drags in from the kitchen. The dryer she brings is different than the one they had at the beauty parlor. The one I’m used to. Everything is changing and it’s making me feel upset and old. As I told you, very old.”
“What about your programs on TV? You like CNN and Bill O’Reilly.”
“Only for entertainment,” she was quick to add.
“I know. You always tell me that. Though I suspect you like some of the things O’Reilly says.”
“Not true,” she snapped. I liked hearing the energy in her voice. I was hoping talking about politics would help bring her out of her despondency.
“I’m not sure how much longer I can go on. Everything happening in the world is upsetting me. And here at home as well. I’m 104 and . . .”
“Not until the end of June,” I said. “No need to make yourself older than necessary.”
“I agree. I shouldn’t do that. I know I can be my own worst enemy.”
“We’ve talked about that. How you should try to notice when you begin to do that and then look for ways to distract yourself. Watch something entertaining on TV. Stop watching all the bad news.”
“All the time Breaking news. Breaking news. Plane crashes, tornadoes, bombings. It goes on day and night.”
“Exactly. So listen to music. Call someone you haven’t heard from in a long time. One of your young great-nieces and nephews. You like talking to them.”
“I do do that and it does help. But I’m feeling tired and depressed. Even what the girls are saying over dinner is upsetting me.”
“In what way? What’s going on?”
“You know I try not to talk politics with them. But because of the election some of them are watching the debates and speeches. I am sensing that they are thinking about voting for Romney or, even worse, Grinch.”
“You’ve mentioned that to me before. But what about you? What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that Romney will be nominated and could win the election. What happens if gasoline hits $5.00 a gallon in September? Or Israel is at war with Iran? Or unemployment goes back up? Any of these things are possible; and if they happen, watch out.”
“And you’re thinking?”
“That maybe Obama isn’t up to it.”
“To being reelected?”
“That too. But maybe not up to being president.”
“I’m surprised to hear you say that. Are you watching more FOX News than just Bill O’Reilly? Maybe you’ve also been watching Sean Hannity?”
“No. Him I can’t stand. No one is influencing me. I read the Herald and they carry stories from your New York Times. I read those too. Before doing the crossword puzzle. Maybe we need someone else who can work better with Congress.”
“To me it’s a nightmare to think of someone like Romney as president working with a Republican Congress. That could be the end of us.”
“You’re saying this to make me feel better? Talking to you is making it worse.” Before I could say anything, she added, “I take that back. You and your brother and my daughters-in-law always make me feel better. Especially the girls. They’re like daughters to me.”
“I’m glad to hear that. We love you and want you to feel as good as possible.”
“Just as possible? How about just good? With no as possibles?” She chuckled so I knew she was doing a little better.
“I stand corrected.”
“About me you don’t have to worry. I’ll be voting for Obama. Over all he's doing very well. In spite of all the Republicans who from day one wanted to see him fail, he’s accomplished a lot. Not perfect, but a lot. He improved how we are seen around the world and made sure the recession didn’t become another Depression. About that I’m old enough to be an expert.”
“That I know. I’ve heard the stories about how you and your family struggled to live through the Great Depression.”
“And I’ll make sure all the girls vote for Obama. Like the last time. Remember four years ago how I convinced everyone to get over his defeating Hillary and that they should vote for him?”
“I do. That was very impressive.”
“If I live until November and am feeling well, I’ll be doing it again. No hanging chads for the ladies!”
“That’s what I like to hear.” I hoped by focusing on working for Obama that she was feeing more optimistic about the future. The world’s and hers.
“While I have you on the phone, one more thing.”
“Sure, mom, anything.”
“I’m doing the Times puzzle and need a little help. If necessary look up the answer on your computer. About crosswords I don’t mind a little cheating.”
“Go on.”
“Six letters, ending in SA. What’s the ‘Potemkin Steps locale’?”
I mused out loud, “Somewhere in Russia but not Moscow.”
“As I said, six letters and I’m sure of the S and the A.”
“I have Google up on my screen and am typing in P-O-T-E-M . . .”
But before I could finish, with a firm voice she said, “Not necessary. I figured it out. It’s ODESSA. Not far from where I was born.”
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5:53 AM
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