My body is loathing zippers, buttons, and seams
I find myself wishful gazing at elastic waist jeans
I’m sweaty and hot, who turned up the heat?
I’m bloated and swollen and just want to eat.
I wake up exhausted
Want to spend my days nappin’
Want to spend my days nappin’
Why am I surprised?
Momma said this would happen.
(***original by Yours Truly – Café Lily)
Oh, how she would laugh, if she could hear me now.
Moaning and groaning as I try to get up from the floor. Popping and cracking, creaking and squeaking.
Kneecap locked in place, at a weird angle. From mopping the bathroom floor?
Whose body is this anyway?
My middle age body is betraying me, and Mom was right. She said this would happen.
She would gloat just a little right now if she were here. Teasing me, laughing with me (not at me). She’d be amused to see her “baby” hitting this time of life.
(one of the last notes my mom wrote to me........)
When I hit 30?
Now that was a rough birthday. I cried, and mourned the loss of my youth. I felt so old. But by the time 40 came around, I felt a strange sense of empowerment. I was comfortable in my own skin and cared much less about how others viewed me.
Or maybe it was the menopause giving me a false sense of bravado.
Either way, as time ticks on, I become bolder and more outspoken as the hormone shift takes place. I have said many times, menopause is like a truth serum.
I distinctly remember my mom saying how frustrating it was when her body wouldn’t keep up with her mind. Or, how she would do a few chores on her “to do” list and have to sit and rest. “I just can’t go like I used to,” she would tell me. I am right there with her. And wow does it stink.
Naps and Tylenol are my new best friends some days. Though I am “going” places in my mind, my body wants to curl up somewhere and sleep. I am way past 40 now, and I feel it.
I imagine she would laugh out loud if she knew that I referred to my gray hairs, as platinum highlights. I will be just like her. I’m not going down without a fight.
My mom worked full time until she was 75. She was funny, feisty, and hell bent on taking care of herself. She refused to hang out with the “old people”.
“All they do is talk about their aches and pains.”.....she would tell me.
No membership to the senior center for her, thank you very much. She drove until it wasn’t safe for her to be behind the wheel anymore. Thankfully she surrendered the car without much of a fight. She cared about others enough to give that up. She was independent, lived alone, and took care of herself for many years after my dad died.
One of the (many) cruel aspects of Alzheimer’s was that she lost her ability to make choices. She slowly lost her independence, her privacy, her dignity and her freedom, along with her mind.
We can’t know what the future holds. Life doesn’t go as planned, and usually doesn’t turn out as we hoped.
I am living proof of that, this very moment.
Not too long ago, I reviewed a book called, The Life We Never Expected.
That could be my life motto at this point. I may very well end up like her, one day diagnosed with this awful disease. I pray not.
But rather than let that fear cripple me, I just keep getting up, taking each day as it comes.
*The Precious Memories posts you read here, are dedicated to my mother who battled Alzheimer's. I share snippets of our story, and some things I learned along the way.
You can start reading our story from the beginning here:
Precious Memories 1
You can read my last Precious Memories post here:
Oxygen Of The Soul - Precious Memories 17