My mother at the age of 85 was a dynamo. She lived on her own, paid her own bills, and took care of herself.......
My mother at the age of 85 was a dynamo. She lived on her own, paid her own bills, and took care of herself. She had been doing this for more than ten years since the death of my father. She was on her own.
My mother was often spotted walking to the pool in her community. A tiny women the senior citizens all around her marveled. It seemed as if father time had forgotten about her. There was no limit to what she could do. Walk 20 blocks, no problem, you name it. Up at dawn and awake at midnight she was a real dynamo.
My mother was very funny, a real character. She made people laugh and smile. She read the paper and watched CNN, she had opinion on everything and wanted to know your opinion. She was a wonderful person: always welcoming people into her home. She was noted for all of my 50 years for her great Italian cooking. I remember as a kid that all of my friends really looked forward to staying over our house. Donuts, spaghetti and meatballs you name it. Ravioli anyone?
Me? I was there with my mother when my fathered "passed away'; this was when I really started about her longevity, her health. I was thinking about her for years knowing that someday she had to live with one of us (I have a brother and sister). As the years flew by I started to think about it more and more. But she just kept going ang going without a health problem of any kind. Rarely a minor illness. She was the real energizer bunny.
At times, my brother, sister and I had discussions about putting my mother into some kind of "facility". But to be honest, to be honest now, I knew I would never be able to do it. While I had only mentioned it to a few people, I had made a promise to my father not long before he died. I promised him no matter what, I would take care of his wife of 55 years, my mother, our love. Dot. It was not a promise I made haphazardly. I made up my mind about this while we were taking care of my dying father. It seemed as natural to me as breathing. I already knew in my mind and my heart, I was the one.
I knew the day would come. I just didn't know when. Or how.
My mother at the age of 85 was a dynamo. She lived on her own, paid her own bills, and took care of herself. She had been doing this for more than ten years since the death of my father. She was on her own.
My mother was often spotted walking to the pool in her community. A tiny women the senior citizens all around her marveled. It seemed as if father time had forgotten about her. There was no limit to what she could do. Walk 20 blocks, no problem, you name it. Up at dawn and awake at midnight she was a real dynamo.
My mother was very funny, a real character. She made people laugh and smile. She read the paper and watched CNN, she had opinion on everything and wanted to know your opinion. She was a wonderful person: always welcoming people into her home. She was noted for all of my 50 years for her great Italian cooking. I remember as a kid that all of my friends really looked forward to staying over our house. Donuts, spaghetti and meatballs you name it. Ravioli anyone?
Me? I was there with my mother when my fathered "passed away'; this was when I really started about her longevity, her health. I was thinking about her for years knowing that someday she had to live with one of us (I have a brother and sister). As the years flew by I started to think about it more and more. But she just kept going ang going without a health problem of any kind. Rarely a minor illness. She was the real energizer bunny.
At times, my brother, sister and I had discussions about putting my mother into some kind of "facility". But to be honest, to be honest now, I knew I would never be able to do it. While I had only mentioned it to a few people, I had made a promise to my father not long before he died. I promised him no matter what, I would take care of his wife of 55 years, my mother, our love. Dot. It was not a promise I made haphazardly. I made up my mind about this while we were taking care of my dying father. It seemed as natural to me as breathing. I already knew in my mind and my heart, I was the one.
I knew the day would come. I just didn't know when. Or how.
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