Patchwork Quilt

My relationship with my Mother was never smooth.  I remember as a child the conscious decision to call her Mother instead of Mom or Momma.  It was a way to distance myself from the hurtful words that she regularly hurled in my direction.  I was an adult before I realized I never had the ability to please her unless I failed at something.

One Christmas before the onset of her dementia she gave each of her four children a patchwork quilt.  My quilt was yellow with the centerpiece a huge lone star.  I knew I should be appreciative and I was. The hours of needlework and patience required for assembling such an heirloom was mind boggling to me. I'm embarrassed to say that it seemed at that time to be one more example of getting what "they" wanted me to have instead of what I wanted.  My brothers' quilts were colors I preferred not the garish yellow one I had been given.

There had been two Christmases where I got what I wanted; one was when I got my royal blue bike and the other was when I got my tether ball.  I loved them both.  The blue bike gave me a freedom and way to escape the chaotic home I was born into.  The tether ball allowed me to pound away the hurt and anger I often felt in my home.

I've come to understand that the Lord does not make junk and I may not be all that I can be.  The Lord whom I serve loves me as I am and His plans exceed my wildest dreams.

I'm thankful for the Mother, the Lord gave me.  I've learned to love the difficult, take the emotional temperature of a  room full of people and to have have compassion for the odd child out Black Sheep of the family.

There are apparently a lot of us "Baby Boomers"  still around.  Why are potatoes in five pound bags? Do you now how long it takes me to use a five pound bag of potatoes?  First those little white squiggly things sprout, then the firmness leaves and then comes the smell.  Thank goodness for garbage receptacles that come with lids to suppress the odor of potatoes passed their prime

Who needs mayonnaise whether it's with olive oil or lite flavor if it comes in a quart jar.  It seems that some marketing guru should come up with a size that suits us aging boomers.

My children are 43 and 39 respectively and no longer live in my home and haven't for more than 20 years.  Why do I feel the urge to buy anything in the giant economy or family size?  Is it habit, am I expecting said children to visit or is my programmer broken?

Things to ponder no doubt.

We recently hosted our annual "Fish Fry"  Park Party.   A Park Party consists of Line Dancing to Elvira, eating fried fish and mingling with 300 of your closest friends all while being home by 8:30 PM.  Our Fish Fry T-shirts were royal blue so we looked like the Hideaway version of the Blue Men Group.  We put up and took down decorations in record time.   No military exercise could top this group in efficiency and attention to detail when completing their mission, oops I mean assignments.

 

Life is good in Hideaway. We are a social group, while I'm pretty sure the fountain out my back door is not the Fountain of Youth, Hideaway residents seem never to age. I attribute it to the activity.

It's 8:30 PM; Your parents are where?

Being the parent of adult children is an adventure I wouldn't miss. My beloved and I live in a gated golf community.  While Hideaway is not a retirement community, a lot of retired folks live here.  Social life can be dauting even to those with the strongest constitution. It's an active community with three nine hole golf courses, three lakes, Park Parties, Mah Jongg and an endless assortment of clubs  in which one can participate.

My kids' method of contact is  sending Texts, Emails and  making an occasional telephone call until WAIT! it's 8:30 and they are not answering.  Have you talked to Mom and Mack?  Do you suppose they are okay?

When they found out we were at a Sock Hop, I could sense the dramatic eye roll.  Really?  At your age a sock hop? 

What do they think, we eat gruel for breakfast, sit in our Lazy Boy and wait for them to call or come by.  I think not. Secretly, I confess I'm delighted when I'm out of reach. Payback is a wonderful invention. 

Go ahead, have all the fun you can have.  Eat dessert first, laugh out loud and have a Blast!
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At our Age

Being the parent of adult children is an adventure I wouldn't miss. My beloved and I live in a gated golf community.  While Hideaway is not a retirement community, a lot of retired folks live here.  Social life can be daunting even to those with the strongest constitution. It's an active community with three nine hole golf courses, three lakes, Park Parties, Mah Jongg and an endless assortment of clubs  in which one can participate.

My kids' method of contact is  sending Texts, Emails and  making an occasional telephone call until WAIT! it's 8:30 and they are not answering.  Have you talked to Mom and Mack?  Do you suppose they are okay?

When they found out we were at a Sock Hop, I could sense the dramatic eye roll.  Really?  At your age a sock hop? 

What do they think, we eat gruel for breakfast, sit in our Lazy Boy and wait for them to call or come by.  I think not. Secretly, I confess I'm delighted when I'm out of reach. Payback is a wonderful invention. 

Go ahead, have all the fun you can have.  Eat dessert first, laugh out loud and have a Blast!
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When the Doctor says, "Well at your age"

New phraseology has come into play as I advance in years. The things I experience or should not experience because of my age amaze me.
For instance, one of my buddies had pneumonia recently;
the doctor said , "well at your age, you probably feel bad most of the time." No, she replied I'm not on any medication and I enjoy an active retirement.

The other thing I wonder about at our age is why with creaking joints and bionic body parts our tickets are often in the nosebleed section at sporting events. Yes, it's true, my beloved and I attended the Baylor Lady Bears VS. UConn on Sunday night. While we were creeping down the stairs hoping the knees would not give way, students and other people younger than we were bounding down the steps below us. At least they weren't above us as they surely would have mowed us down.

Let's think for just a moment about the "senior moments", the catchall for the times you wonder why you are standing in the middle of the guest room, forget what you had for lunch or if you took all of your medications.