Tuesday, January 25, 2011

2011.01.26 Old is for Love

Damn, it’s hard to get old, even harder to admit you’re getting old and you can’t do it all like you used to.

When your kids were young you were afraid to drive and get lost, you terrorized them to be absolutely still, without a move or a word or a whimper even if they had to pee, while you found your way to your city destination.

Today you terrorize them without meaning to by forgetting to put the phone tightly back on the cradle so one of them thinks you’ve fallen, or worse dropped dead to the floor, and comes rushing over to find you smiling. What’s the matter, dear?

So darlings, it is time for you, and me, to be sensible. (Hate that word.) We’re powerless over our beloved aging flesh.

Let them help you as you once helped them even if it means changing you like a baby—the ultimate in intimate embarrassment. I did it once for my mother, both of us looking miserable, wan smiles, whispered thanks, and it’s okay Mom.

This generation swop is also the perfect imitation of the humility of God Herself when She came into our tissue paper flesh, loving enough to let us change, bathe, feed, swaddle, cradle, and in the end take Her down from the death bed cross, to bathe one more time, then anoint and kiss good bye.