So I am about to hit a pretty big milestone in life....turning 50 (it actually will take place in February, but I am practicing saying it OUT LOUD). I am vacillating between total fucking denial and scheduling a face lift. Seriously, I don't feel physically old, but I do feel 'mature'. Some of you reading this may not think of me as mature, but I am not the ingenue I once was.
Not because I am mother to three young adults who, by the way, by virtue of their various request for attention are keeping me up to speed on the nuances of the 21st century. The old saying that you are only as happy as your most miserable child is true. Kids, spread out your request for maternal attention - so you can cut your old mom some slack.
I have spent the past six months in a primordial silent scream - and not because I am about to be 50 or that my kids are growing up and don't need me as much. But because I have watched my man, Mike, get a huge gut punch due to his bad luck as a kid with a virus that affected his heart. It is like a boxing match that the official doesn't stop. The punches just keep coming.
We get one chronic issue under control and then the things that help the first issue cause new issues. For those of you who know Mike personally, you can vouch that he ain't no whimp. He is the very definition of a BAD ASS. He shares his issues with very few and maintains a sense of humor - BUT as is the case with chronic issues, they get you when you are not looking. They are wily fuckers that don't care if you have shit to do. They make you cancel plans because they want your undivided attention. If you let your guard down, you are screwed. I have become a pseudo medical diagnostic female version of the TV character 'House". I have to be on my toes, mentally and literally documenting random trivial details of Mike's life. In the event of a mystery episodic illness, I have to be able to recreate the most recent series of events to try to determine the cause or origination of the problem. SO that when we go into the ER or call the pros (the multitude of medical professionals that know us without looking at Mike's medical records), we can give them accurate information about his present condition.
All this to say, I am now living ACUTELY in the present moment. I can not bask in ignorance or innocence that I have plenty of time, because you just never know. (So, children o' mine, please take care of your shit and DO IT NOW - before it is a virtual crisis situation.)
The Buddhists have five remembrances that we should all remember:
I cannot avoid aging.
I cannot avoid illness.
I cannot avoid death.
I cannot avoid being separated and parted from all that is dear and beloved to me.
The only thing I control is my actions.
SO.....in acceptance of relentless adulthood, I am standing firm about NOT coloring my hair. I am going to keep nagging Mike to rest more, keep meeting with Damek to help him stay focused, keep reminding Sadie that not everyone knows she is in charge (I totally feel her pain on this) and keep asking Simone to scoop the cat litter. These are the things I can control. It is RELENTLESS.
