Conversational fun

We went shopping today.

Look around here. Look around there.

The fun began when I had my GPS on my iPhone on so I could find the stores.

Let me get you started by letting you know, the voice that I have on my GPS app is female and British. Lovely voice. I think it goes back to my crush on Mary Poppins.

But that's a whole other therapy.

At times there was no sound.

Dad: "She's awful quiet"
Me: "Its a GPS app dad. Not a conversation one"
Dad: "Would be nice if she played some music"
Me: (Smart ass as always) "Would you like her to ask you about your day, the weather, your grandchildren?"
Dad: "Just saying, some music would be good"
GPS: "At the next juncture turn right"
Dad: "Welcome back"

Yes, I did roll my eyes.

One little known fact about mom is that when she gets nervous, for whatever reason, she tends to talk.

And talk.

A lot.

Nervous talk.

Mom: "Does she know where we are going?"
Me: "Yes, I told it where I wanted to go"
Mom: "Seems awful far"
Me: "Trust the technology"
Mom: "That sign said Tulsa. You sure we aren't going to Tulsa"
Me: "Is there a Macy's in Tulsa?"
Mom: "I don't know"
Me: "Relax"
Mom: "It just seems far"

When we finally got to where we had been headed all along. Well, it just suddenly became amazing, and what a great thing and how wonderful that we can do this.

Yeah, I rolled my eyes.

The rest of the day, and it seemed like a long day, went off, well, somewhat acceptably.

Shopping has always been an experience with mom. Specially if I find something I want but it may not be the right shade of some color or another that may or may not look good on me or whatever.

You'd think I would know to keep my mouth shut.

Yeah . . . not so much.

And, as always, some things that just seem to happen...
Dad: "How can I get that service?"
Me: "Its an app dad. Its on my iPhone"
Dad: "Can I get it for mine?"
Me: "Why?"
remember, dad doesn't drive, mom doesn't drive and the old lady that drives them doesn't pay attention half the time...even when she drives...SPECIALLY when she drives.

Yup, eye rolling...yup.

On the way back this one really made me laugh.

Dad: "Been to New Orleans since the hurricane?"
Me: "Wouldn't I have told you if I did go?"
Dad: "Oh, just wondering"

Yeah, I rolled my eyes.

Honestly.

Its just weird sometimes.

But that's a whole other therapy.

More old age "achaques"

Today we took dad to the emergency room. X rays showed Pneumonia. He ran out of inhaler, not that he even realized it because he kept using the empty case. So the doctor prescribed some meds and some inhaler like device to help him clear out his lungs. He also has swimmer's ear. Hell if I know how he got it.

Mom seems to be doing well. Nothing major with her, just slower than usual, and her knees hurt and she gets tired easily . . . achaques strike again.

Dad just doesn't seem to be paying attention to what's going on. He has been having a hard time breathing but kept saying he was fine, just fine. He doesn't want to face it. He seems to think that he'll get better soon.

I keep seeing them and I keep seeing me.

Me in some years but me.

Me in the future.

Still me.

Their house has spots that are clean and perfect and some that have some sort of life growing on it (like the bathroom windows).

Yeah, got that at my place. Hey! Don't judge. I am opening my soul here.

I wonder just how much of these "achaques" (see an earlier post on this) can be prevented . . . how much is inevitable . . . and how much is just part and parcel of old age.

Its hard to see those formerly strong people that guided your life, and helped you along, and even punished you, getting older and frailer.

Its hard to see the strong dad who was up for anything and working hard at all he did become a small old man who emotionally hugs you every time he sees you.

Its hard to see a strong willed mom who is still working hard at what she loves (teaching) and who presented you with so much extras in your life, become an old woman who can't stop saying your name because she is so grateful to have you around.

Part of me feels comfort.

Part of me feels sadness.

Part of me is just grateful to have them in my life this long.

No point to this. Merely sharing. Merely contributing some thoughts.

Share yours with me, will ya?