Grown Children

One of the advantages of having wrinkles is that your children are often grown. It is delightful to see how they turned out.

My youngest son recently flew home from China to spend some time with me. I am enjoying his company very much. He’s twenty-six years old and has that fresh view of life that only younger adults can have.

We just got back home from the grocery store. I’d planned a trip to a movie this afternoon, but at breakfast he asked if I really felt like it. This is the worst day I’ve had health-wise since he got home. I guess I looked like I feel. No. I didn’t feel like it, but I try to do what’s planned and I was trying to find a way to go. He suggested we wait and go another day this week. That’s a lovely idea. When I feel this bad, ideas are things I am short on.

I’m trying to adjust to this damned disability I have been diagnosed with that limits what I’m able to do some days. I often try to charge through the bad way I feel just to show it who’s boss. The voice of reason was great to hear this morning. No, I don’t feel like going. I have no idea why I was insisting this body go somewhere I don’t feel like going, and sitting up for two hours once it gets there. What I feel like doing is crawling back in the bed and hoping this “spell” passes soon. My son is here to care for the pets. He went in and got some bottled water at the store. We got a few other things for sandwiches and such as I doubt I’m up to cooking any more today. He navigated the main cart and I wandered around with a smaller one picking up one or two things. Walking is hard for me – especially on these bad days.

I won’t bore you with all my ailments, but I have several and on days like today when they all decide to act up . . . well, it’s great to have a grown son here to help me.



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