Too soon old, too late smart.

I say that a lot these days.
I wish I had been smart enough at a much earlier point in my life to develop some sense of self-discipline. Then I would be able to restrain myself from stirring sticks in ant hills (metaphorically, that is).
I wish I were smart enough to recognize that if angels are not treading, then I sure should keep away. That statement’s in reference to responding to group emails I should ignore and then linking to the sender, who, I should know by now, will only respond on his blog the way he always does. (No link here; no foolrushing this time. While there are times that a good verbal battle gets my juices going, this is not one of those times.)
Blogging, for many of us, is such a self-serving egocentric pastime. (I’m including myself that that reflection.)
For me, I think I blog because it’s about the only place in my life where I can be self-serving and egocentric. I sit here struggling to decide whether to take my mom to the emergency room (where she insists, in tears, that she doesn’t want to go) or call her primary doctor tomorrow and see if I can get her an appointment. She likes her doctor, who’s female and my daughter’s age, and shares with other elderly patients my (literally) sage — and successful — formula for getting my mother’s hair to stop falling out. She hugs my mom after every office visit and gives her a kiss on the cheek. Ah yes, flies with honey. Much better than ants with sticks.
I have three days of dishes in the sink and my fabric boxes are in upheaval all over my bedroom because my mom asked me to tinker with her lumbar support belt and add a piece because it was too tight. Heh. Of course, I did, and it works. These days, I am the mother of invention.
I think that some bone in my mom’s lumbar spine must have been injured somehow. With the kind of severe osteoporosis she has, all she has to do is twist and a bone could break. I borrowed a wheel chair from a friend whose mother passed away a couple of years ago, and at least my mom feels less in pain when she’s sitting it in.
What to do? What to do? No linking to other bloggers, that’s for sure.
Do the dishes while my mother sleeps. Clean up my mess. Don’t make any more. Breathe.

1 thought on “Too soon old, too late smart.

  1. You refer to a good book in “Too Soon Old, Too Late Smart”.
    You write well.
    I do not blog. I have only read one other blog in my life but I was researching some info on the above mentioned book and your page was the 2nd hit so I “clicked”.
    I wish I could offer some comfort on your mother’s situation. I assume by your writing that your children are grown. Be grateful that you are/were not a “sandwicher”. The sandwiching of myself and (now) ex-wife that began in 1998 and ended in 2003 destroyed my family and nearly destroyed me.
    I pray (and I DO pray) that your journey is/was cushioned by those piles and piles of fabric. As you recall stirring the ant hills with sticks, also recall raking the leaves into a giant pile and (Life Flight just flew over…I wonder…) jumping into them. Perhaps those piles of fabric are calling you to the memory of piles of leaves.
    May your eyes be open to the blessings of this day.

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