posted 2026-08-04 10:17:22
a friend of mine just broke it off with his lady because he went through a rough patch when he had to make the decision to put his mom in a nursing home. he said, "she just couldn't sit in the suck, so i don't want her around in the spoils".
i reluctantly admitted that while i still do not adopt other people's character flaws, age has made me much more accepting of them. my Dad used to say, "if no one died and no one is pregnant, we can figure it out" - i was in high school then, so the pregnancy part was really important. =)
today, at the ripe middle age of 52, i just sort of look at character flaws like ingredients in a recipe. for the life of me, i don't know why there is cream of tartar in most cookie recipes - but it's there for a reason. our flaws are like a pinch of pixie dust that could change the whole darn thing if it wasn't there. right? or maybe i'm just to the point where being inconvenienced is a greater ick than suffering a semi-flawed mate. who knows...
there are so many better things to talk about. S got her masters degree about 3 years ago, she's married now too! and M, oh M... she bought a house all on her own, and she finally stopped dating instagram models and found a quality man with a brain. he asked me if he had my permission to propose to her this fall on her birthday trip. so both of my greatest accomplishments are living amazing lives. we still have family dinners, play board games, call each other every day, and are each others best friends. they are better people than i am. a little kinder, a little sassier, even a touch more quick-witted - if you can imagine that. i freaking knocked it out of the park with those two.
and finally, i went back to NY this weekend to see my mom and for a high school reunion. my mom has always been a challenge. i dread going home because of the toxic situations. but this time was different. she's in a wheelchair now, on oxygen, physically not the greatest. she's got a wasps wit - sharp and stinging. in her prime she was brutal. but this was different. my sisters are alcoholic gambling addicts that really don't even take my mom out of the house because the wheelchair is too cumbersome they say. so i took her out every day, forced her to take a shower, do her hair, put on pressed clothes. i took her shopping, to the cemetary to see my Dad, and to the dive bar down the street. she smiled, she chatted with strangers, she fit right in. the next day we went to a beach restaurant - patio table right next to teh sand. we ate steamer clams and drank micheladas. she watched people, dogs, kites, boats....we chatted about how things had changed and how much she missed road trips and adventures.
it took 52 years, but i had the best weekend with my mom. i haven't forgotten the past, but maybe, her recipe card is just different than mine. at 52, that's okay.
journal mates, i hope life has been everything you needed.