Saturday, June 14, 2008

June 14: Aches and Pains


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2 comments:

Anonymous said...

When I stand up, I groan a little. I’m not talking a small noise – nothing anyone in their right mind would call cute or adorable. I’m talking a grandpa-after-he’s-been-up-on-his-feet-all-day-and-stands-up kind of groan.

I don’t even remember when it started, and I honestly didn’t know I was making it until this morning, when my wife giggled when I stood from the breakfast table.

“What?” I asked, half expecting her answer to something amusing in “Dear Abby.”

“You’re making your father’s noise again,” she replied.

Again? When did I ever do it before?

Then it hit me – I was the same age as my father had been when I first noticed he was getting old.

He and I had always been best buddies. We did everything together, and the more we did, the more I enjoyed and admired him.

One day, though, as if it happened overnight, he got old. Sure, he had had grey hairs for a while, and he often started stories with, “Why, I remember when…” (Of course I teased him about those stories. “I remember when a nickel was worth 25 cents!” I would joke.)

He had an appointment for a check-up and had been given a list of instructions to follow the day before his procedures: don’t eat after midnight, don’t take aspirin five days before the exam, etc.

I went to his house the night before so I could drive him home from the exam. I was asking how he felt about it, then discovered he hadn’t followed the directions from the doctor. He hadn’t even read them.

“I’m too tired for all that, son,” he explained. “I’m tired of following other people’s rules.” And at that, he stood from his recliner to get a glass of iced tea.

I saw him in all his aged glory at that moment. He had made grandpa’s noise when he stood. Had his shoulders always been that stooped? And when did his eyes start to look so tired?

He was a man with the weight of a lifetime’s work and worry on his shoulders. He had gone to college, fought in a world war, raised four kids, nursed my mother through a terminal illness, and had two careers.

“You okay, dad?”

“I’m just tired, son.”

Now I knew how he felt. But I realized all those little aches in my knees, the constant pain in my back, and the lines on my face were the badges of honor for a life long and well lived.

Every twinge in the muscle at my waist on my right side reminded me of the day I caught my eldest son as he fell off his bike, my body twisting to save him from the asphalt.

That pain in my left knee started the day I beat the socks off that same son 15 years later in a mean game of one-on-one basketball in the driveway.

And my left shoulder? The day I tripped and fell while holding an umbrella over my daughter-in-law’s head the day she brought home my first grandchild.


LaurenUnleashed Maurer

June 15, 2008 at 12:18 AM
SweepAnd Mopp said...

Indiana Jones Returns

[F] Dodging [Dm] whips and
[F] dodging [Dm] guns and
[F] dodging [Dm] arrows and
[F] dodging [Dm] tanks and
[F] dodging [Dm] fists and
[F] dodging [Dm] darts and
[F] dodging [Dm] swords and
[C7] I'm too old for this [F] crap.

June 18, 2008 at 12:21 PM

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