I am blessed to still have my parents around. Not literally "around" as they live 12 hours away. But they're alive, to put it bluntly, something so many of my contemporaries cannot claim. I talk to them weekly to allow plenty of time to catch up, as my mom can turn any quick chat into an hour-long conversation. And I really love our chats, for the most part, as long as we don't veer off onto taboo subjects like politics, on which we do not see eye-to-eye. One of the reasons I feel so privileged to have them and to talk regularly is I get a view into old age in a way I might not pay attention to otherwise. Mom and dad downsized from their three-bedroom home of 34 years in 2012, moving to a comfortable two-bedroom apartment. They're not the retirement-home types, really, though I think mom would be inclined to join some of the group activities. They - like me - are accustomed to having friends of all ages and I think the gray landscape of such an environment would dismay them. They have their routines and I think, as they become more and more forgetful at 84 and 89, their routines are a comfort, something that becomes rote, not dependent on faltering memories. At the same time, I think they miss being younger when each day was a new adventure. I know they really look forward to our weekly chats. My mom tends to dominate the conversation, as she always has, looping my dad in on occasion by shouting his name over the extension. (I think sometimes my dad dozes off, happy to have a break from being mom's sole conversant.) They want, as they always have, to hear all about my week - how things are at work, what the kids are up to, all the boring - but to them interesting - details. When I ask about their week, with the exception of various doctor visits, my dad usually laughs and says, "Well, you know, same old same old." And as much as I know, at their age, no news truly is good news, I can't help but detect a little sadness in that response. Or maybe it's just me. I have to say the things they do talk about these days can be surprising. For example a couple weeks ago, they shared that my dad told my mom he would probably outlast her. And they both agreed it would be better that way. Wow. Can you imagine having that conversation with your significant other? It doesn't get more real. I had to laugh because it was so absurd to me, and yet, I imagine, strangely comforting to them. I'll talk to them again in a few days. Hopefully I'll have some interesting news to share. Though I'm not sure it will beat the who'll-die-first conversation. At least, I hope not.
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d.a.meek
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December 2017
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