Growing Old

As I sat in the car today and listen to my mother talk about things she needed to do to get the roof on her house repaired my heart broke a little.  She seemed so … helpless.  Over the last couple years, due to some of the plans I’m making with my own life, I’ve been forced to sit with the realization that my mother is getting older. It’s like watching your favorite super hero give out on super power. When I was a kid, I knew she was invincible. I believed in her like evangelicals believe in seperatist Jesus. Don’t most kids though? Parents seem so “big” when you’re so small. If they’re really good they feel like they can protect you against any and everything.

Society never really prepares us for the emotional transitions of adult-hood, particularly the aging of our parents.  Sure, they tell us what adults should have, what they should wear, how their supposed to think.  Most of which has never served me in any meaningful way. I’m an adult with all the trimmings, but on a lot of days I don’t feel much older than 15. This works quite well for staying young at heart, not so much in the area of being fiscally responsible.  So how is an emotional “15” year-old cope with the fact that her Mom, her own personal Wonder Woman, is fallible?

 

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