Remember the former things, those of long ago; I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like me. I make known the end from the beginning, from ancient times, what is still to come. I say: My purpose will stand, and I will do all that I please. Isaiah 46:9-10 (NIV)
A few weeks ago, after an excruciating visit to the doctor with her aging parents, Miz S, http://mizsilverthorn.typepad.com/miz_s/ posted a funny, but poignant piece about getting old. It lead me to start thinking about what husband and I will be like in another twenty something years. I can pretty much predict what I will look like. Everyone says I am my mother’s daughter. However much I look like her though, I am my father’s daughter in personality which does not bode well for our children. My mother is a very private person. She does not talk about bodily functions or how she feels. She does not complain about anything and rarely makes demands. It is a good thing because my dad is high maintenance. When he gets sick, everyone knows it and does whatever it takes to get him healthy again. He has strong opinions which he is not afraid to talk about in public. To strangers. He is independent, strong, and does not take advice well. Especially from those younger than he is. Though I can be a people pleaser which tempers some ego-centrism, I can just see that rubbing off as I get older. I can hear the conversation between my two boys right now: “Mom needs to quit driving. She just bent a wheel running over a curb. Her vision is getting worse, and she can’t see over the steering wheel.” “Well, take away her car keys.” “I’m not going over there to take away her car keys. You do it.” “Not me, she’ll beat the ^%*$$# out of me. Just let her drive off the side of a bridge, that will take care of everything.” Conversations about husband will go much differently. My husband loves women. Not in the carnal sense, he just loves being around women. He is a real flirt, calling waitresses or store clerks, honey and darling. One of my friends was talking to him once on my phone and when she handed it back to me, said, “He just called me dear.” That’s my husband. I can see him now when we move to the nursing home. He’ll leave me behind in assisted living while he whips around in his wheel chair looking at all the cute nurses and dropping things so they will have to bend over and he can look down their shirts. Then, the boys will say, “Dad got kicked out of another home. He’s too fresh with the women and they got offended. I don’t know where else we can put him.” “Well, he’s sure not coming to leave with me!” No worries. Husband will redeem himself by accurately diagnosing someone’s car problems and negotiating a great deal on repairs, so there he’ll be teasing the cafeteria workers and greasing the wheels on people’s walkers. In the meantime, I will be highjacking the home’s bus for one last road trip. Yup, our boys won’t know what to do with us. I laugh just thinking about it. Paybacks will be so much fun.