My mom recently fell outside and broke her leg. This is the second major fall she's had in the past 6 years. The other time she tripped on the sidewalk and broke her knee. Luckily that time she had her cell phone and was able to call my dad to pick her up and bring her to the ER. This time my mom's bone broke through her skin and she was left to yell for help in the subzero temperatures until I arrived on my lunch break (no pun intended). Today I visited my parents' house and witnessed my dad, who is 67 but appears to be 90, wearily wheel my mom into the kitchen in her wheelchair. It was a pretty sad scene. He and I loaded some laundry and put fresh sheets on their bed while my mom shouted instructions from the next room. When it was time to leave I caught a glimpse of my mom in her wheelchair sitting quietly in the empty kitchen. Getting older certainly sucks.
Ajumma's hubby used to be the strongest, fastest runner in his Army squadron. Lately he's been plagued by a ripped muscle in his leg and today it snapped. I can smell the Flexall from where I'm sitting. It totally reminds me of my Grandpa Mike who always had sore muscles.
Everyone around me is having babies. Some friends and family are on to number 2. Should we have kids now before we get too old and decrepit? I personally enjoy not cooking when feel like it, being able to eat a meal in a restaurant without holding on to a flailing child, and walking unemcumbered onto airline flights. But perhaps I'll live to regret not having kids like I regret not pursuing an art major in college. Afterall, who will come over to change my bedsheets when I get old?