Old Age

Noah is always so concerned about whether or not I am getting old. He is always inquiring, "Mom, are you and my dad old?? Are you getting old?? Does that make you old??? Is this going to make you old?? Who is going to take care of me when you are old?"and always in such a somber tone of voice. I respond, "I am older than I was yesterday, I am older than you, and when I am old, you will be a man and able to take care of yourself. "The truth is, I am not thrilled about it either, so quickly I try to change the subject, but my mind stays fixated on the topic...why is he so worried about that now??? Do I look old to him???  Do I act old to him??? and so the questioning continues.

Then I remember a family night out to the movies and the attendant taking tickets, pats Noah on the head and says, "You are so lucky to have Grandparent's that will bring you to the movies."
Grandparents???  Really??? I'm thinking either my hearing has gone bad and I am old, or my hearing is good and I really am old.

Then I remember the time Rick picked up Noah from school. Noah came bounding down the line of cars with his friend Parker. Noah said, "See you tomorrow Parker!" Parker responds, "Hey is that your Grandpa in there?" Fortunately Noah was able to see the humor and laughed it off.

Noah was in the car with me and I could see from my rear view mirror, that he was deep in thought. A few minutes later and again in a somber voice, he says, "Mom, do you know what I really wish?" I think, "Here it goes--a game boy, a horse, a trip to Disneyland..."I say,"What do you wish, son?"and he said, "I just wish...well I wish dad could bend over."It was all I could do to contain my surprise and my laughter.   Rick is a wonderful father. He will throw baseball after baseball to Noah and he will take him golfing.  Rick has two hip replacements, sore knees, sore shoulders, sore everything--I'm sure Noah has seen how hard it is for Rick to bend over and collect the balls.

I am a Choirister in the Primary.We are talking about building Eternal Families. Sister Harris brings a picture of a "Grandma" to discuss how she is part of the family and can contribute in many ways. "What things does your Grandma do?"and there cute Camden says it direct and plain, "Grandma's have to color their hair." Well, I have been coloring my hair for a lottta years now--so does that put me in the "Old Category?"

So just when does one make that transition into "Old Agedom" (is it when you start making up your own words:) ) Is it when you iron shirts with windex instead of the spray starch? Is it when you cook the rolls with the saran wrap still covering them? Is it when the streaks in your hair are more silver than gold? Is it when you water your plants with a glass of milk instead of water? Is it when Noah's friend's parents, have parents younger than you? Is it when you qualify for the Senior Discount (or when someone asks you, will that be 2 seniors and 1 child?)  Is it when you lose more things than you find and some of those things are the rest of your sentences? Is it when the remote in your hand does not seem to "select" the item you are pushing on until it starts ringing and you realize, you are trying to use the phone to do the remote's job? Is it when you prefer Raisin Bran to Fruit Loops? Is it when  CNN becomes the new Prime Time TV show? Is it when you are tempted to cleanse your face with Downy Wrinkle Releaser instead of Sea Breeze? Is it when you do not recognize a single Name Brand of clothing, or any of the Popular Singing Groups? Is it when the students you taught, are now teachers?  Is it when you eat more Rolaids than M&M's? Is it when you start asking too many questions? If any of the previous are qualification for "Old Age," then I am definitely old.

For the sake of Noah and my own fears, I am going to color my hair and have blonde streaks put in and attribute the above to "Blondeom."

What I learned from Noah:  He does not want his parents to grow old or at least act their age.

In Loving Memory

Death has never been my favorite subject. I know it is part of the plan, but the idea of being put in a wooden box seems so claustraphobic, and then dirt on top of that. Ugh!!! Then there is leaving loved ones behind--I just hate it!!! As a child, I remember hiding out in the car while mom, dad, grandpa and grandma Hart went to the cemetary in Menan. They went to pay their respect, clean, and decorate the grave sites of those that had passed on.

I never really looked forward to Memorial Day, even to this day. But I do believe in paying my respects. For a while, and as a single young woman, I would meet Grandma Garff out at Wasatch Memorial. We would sit on a blanket and read a cute little book and reminisce about Grandpa. Aunt Donna always sent the lovliest of flowers and this year was no different.

Now the older I get, the more people I know--Rick's Mother and Aunt have both been added to this particular cemetary. This year, we had the honor of taking Grandma Garff with us to Wasatch Memorials. We did not sit or read, but we did observe the Marriott touch. The flowers were splendid and I could tell that was pleasing to Grandma.

Rick and Noah walked over to see a few of Rick's relatives and his Mother. Then we continued our afternoon together over dinner at the Sizzler. We love being with Grandma and feel extra blessed that she is still with us in her ripe old age of 92.

The highlight of the day had to have been when Rick called me to come outside. Noah had figured out how to fly a kite and there he was with a grin as big as Texas and kite string in hand. I was proud of him. Most of the kites I tried to fly, just scooted behind me on the pavement. I was happy to end the day with a more cheerful activity.

What I learned from Noah: Memorial Day is the perfect day to fly a kite--way up high--maybe even to the edge of heaven where loved ones are looking down.

I Often Go Walking

Most of the days, my exercise routine consists of dancing with Roxy from  "Dance Dance Revolution."  Once in a while it will be so pleasant outside, that I say bye to Roxy and take a brisk walk in the fresh air. A few Saturdays ago, Noah wanted to go with me. I did not think I would be able to get much of a workout with his little legs keeping time with my long strides. It has been somewhat stressful around here with finances and me trying to deal with some challenges and worries. Sometimes I needed those walks just to clear my head.

This morning, I put on my exercise clothes. Noah has been such a good boy, while Rick and I have tried to work through some of these things. I decided to abandon the intense workout and all my distractions and to connect with my son again. I told Noah we were going on a walk together.  He was so excited that he got his red backpack and put toys, water, phone, hats and bread for the ducks. Surely there is more to life than calories and dollar bills. I was going on a walk with my son and I was going to see life as he sees it. In fact, I carried my camera to snap images from the eyes of a child.

What an adventure we had--there were ducks and ducklings, swans and breadcrumbs, throwing pebbles and skipping rocks, signs of every kind, slides and puppies, rain and sunshine. We walked on dirt trails, green grass, side walks and bark. When the rain started to fall, we started to run. While running by Noah's side, I thought, "this is amazing...this is truly a great day and I am having the time of my life doing nothing with Noah--just being. Just being with Noah is a great place to be.

We headed for home with smiles on our faces and I knew that this is the joy that I had been missing. I need more days like today, more days with Noah, more time living his experiences.

What I learned from Noah: I often go walking, but if you want an adventure, bring a child along.