Sometimes I Feel Like a Piece of Bologna

Old People, Old Furniture....

I was at a brunch a while back when one of the older ladies made an interesting comment. She said, “We value old furniture more than we value old people.”

Isn’t that the truth? We have several pieces of valuable antique furniture—several that are older than my mom. I take great care to guard and care for those antiques. I never feel they’re a nuisance. So why do I get irritated in dealing with my mother? She’s just as fragile. Is she as valuable to me? On a difficult day, I confess I wonder. I get frustrated when she won’t do what I tell her. I get annoyed when she’s not willing to change or improve her life.

For example, last time I took her to the doctor, she had low blood pressure. The doctor found a slight irregularity in her heartbeat. He suggested she get a blood pressure machine and monitor herself for a while. Since she’s done that, her blood pressure has skyrocketed. Probably because she’s stressed about it. I try to tell her she’s inducing the spikes. She says she can’t help it. Of course she could if she’d try. So I get annoyed. And feel squished.

The same visit we went to the dermatologist to check out some spots. They were nothing, but Mom told the next doctor that she had been to the “cancer doctor.” Despite the assurances that her bumps were nothing, she had already decided she had skin cancer and no one was going to talk her out of it. I feel squished.

I think I’ll go polish my furniture…

Labels: aging, aging parents