What really matters
No matter how much you love her, you do not want to brush
your teeth after your 90-year-old mom has put her dentures to rest. No.
Seriously. I live with my mom a few months of the year, and she is a wonder, a
champ, an idol. She shovels snow, splits wood, climbs ladders, and stairs, and
decorates at least 10 trees for Christmas in her nearly 200-year-old farmhouse.
She keeps a wood stove going, cans vegetables that she grows in her own garden,
mows her own lawn on a riding tractor, splits her own wood and still drives her
garbage to the landfill. She survives colon cancer surgery like it was a
manicure. She is an independent, strong willed and strong-bodied Yankee, to be
admired for her longevity, wisdom, and resilience. But at 90, you don’t pay
much attention to what you leave behind in your white porcelain sink, probably
because you don’t really see it, and rinsing your dentures and placing them in
their plastic chopper bin with a tablet of Polident is rote. Who thinks of that
after 30 plus years? Not my mother. Sort of how she no longer finds it
necessary to clean the litter box daily, or vacuum the upstairs hallway often,
or wipe off the table or counter. So what if she leaves She can still make a
mean jar of pickles, grow the best lilacs and irises, and stoic – she is the
very best at stoicism. I love her
dearly, but brushing my teeth in the upstairs bathroom after she has put
herself to bed—it’s not pretty. It takes a strong stomach, and a willingness to
let things go (like chunks of unidentifiable food around the chrome drain). I’m sure it’s a bit like being 90 – you
begin to worry only about the things that matter. Being happy, being sure of
yourself, living your life the way you wish. Like loving the woman who gave
birth to you, focusing on her strengths, and ignoring the things that don’t
matter. After all, that’s what paper towels are for, right? But I might
recommend, on certain occasions, closing your eyes to the obvious, and focusing
more on the important things.
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