Yesterday at lunch my mom was telling my brother and I about her recent trip to Target. She was standing in the checkout line behind a woman who was counting on her fingers and talking to herself. She noticed that my mom was watching her, and the lady explained that she had forgotten her list in her car, and she didn't want to run out and get it. She was trying to remember if she had gotten everything. Dropped of the prescription, check. Laundry detergent, check. Mother's Day card, check. My mom, making conversation, told her that she'd bought my grandmother's Mother's Day card on the previous Monday, and that she even stopped on the way home from the store to mail it. The woman's jaw dropped and Mom said the lady's eyes all but popped out of her head. "Your mother's still alive!" "Yes," my mom replied, "She's 78. And my dad's still alive too! He's 82!"
I don't think of my mom as old, especially since my grandparents are still alive, but I guess she is, kind of. She just turned 60 in April. I don't have a hard time accepting that I'm aging, but I do have a hard time accepting the possibility that she may be getting older. Alright, alright, that she IS getting older. I remember when she turned 48 I told her I was just going to say she was 21, and for the longest time I wasn't sure how old she was, even though I knew the year that she was born. Oh well, I'm not going to dwell on her age. I'll put my focus on those 4 grey hairs that I have!
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