Getting old, is getting old
On the 8th I turned the big two-nine! And my wife organized quite a good BBQ and party for me. My parents even drove the distance to celebrate with us. It was a rip roaring good time.
There was though, one odd occurrence that happened over the course of my parents visit. It was something my Dad said. And at first, I didn’t really pay any attention. It wasn’t until a friend asked me.
“Do you feel any older?”
That I found that I could finally articulate my thoughts, and I was able to share about my Dad with my friend.
I said that as we (mom,dad,jaimi,i) were sitting around playing a board game, Dad said;
“I’m having a hard time using my thumbs now days, because of arthritis”
And I sat shocked, because I have never heard my Dad complain or comment about this topic. EVER! After everyone went to bed, I ended up just lying there next to Jaimi, thinking about my Dad’s thumbs.
There are a lot of great memories in those thumbs. Magical moments that couldn’t have been created without them. How my Dad used his thumbs on the handle of a lathing tool as he did some wood working, pressing down on the neck of his classical guitar, or on the back of his clarinet as he plays, or lifting Jaye high over his head and dropping him on our childhood bed to a room full of laughter, smiles, and squealing. And with their loss on the horizon, I felt old as well as responsible for my family. And I thought
“Age is the metronome to a song that shall never be repeated”
I guess this year, the gift of responsibility was what I really received. And though some would curse it, or run from it, I don’t mind. Not one bit.
-peace