TheBanyanTree: Getting old(er)

[Monique Colver]

Thank you Jana! It means a lot to me that it makes sense to somebody --
sometimes I can't tell, and I'm not sure if I'm making sense only to myself.
Which isn't such a bad thing, is it?

I love you too!

M

On Sat, Feb 26, 2011 at 4:31 PM, Indiglow <indiglow at sbcglobal.net> wrote:

> Why does nearly everything you write make so much *sense* to me?  Or sound
> so familiar (except for the doing taxes stuff!)?  Monique, you have such a
> wonderful grasp on reality I think I might just be in danger of losing my
> "only truly sane person I've ever met" status... except you never met the
> psychologist who said that.  In case the rest didn't say it, I think you're
> awesome!  And it may not be commes il faut, but - it's the truth - I love
> you!
> J
>
> --- On Sat, 2/26/11, Monique Colver <monique.colver at gmail.com> wrote:
>
>
> From: Monique Colver <monique.colver at gmail.com>
> Subject: TheBanyanTree: Getting old(er)
> To: "Banyan Tree" <thebanyantree at lists.remsset.com>
> Date: Saturday, February 26, 2011, 4:17 PM
>
>
> Not that I am, of course, not by any means. In fact, mentally I seem to be
> regressing. My childlike demeanor just wants to come out and play.
>
> But my dad, as he likes to remind me, is getting older. Or old. Or
> something. I called him yesterday. I had this suspicion I should, but I
> have
> those suspicions a lot and don't do it. I might not have, had it not been
> for the strange phone call I got right after my work day was to have ended
> (which doesn't mean it did end, it just means that it could have been ended
> by then, which is one of the joys of being my own boss). I didn't recognize
> the number, but the area code looked familiar, so I answered it.
>
> I answered and said my name, which I often do if I don't know who's calling
> because it's a business phone and personal phone all rolled into one, and
> who greets clients with "Dude! What's up?"
>
> I don't answer the phone like that either though. Did you really think I
> did? I hardly ever call anyone dude anymore.
>
> There was no response, but I could hear background noise. Someone was
> there,
> somewhere, but they sure weren't talking to me. After a minute or so of no
> response I hung up. I don't like to be on the phone with myself. I'm much
> more interesting in person than on the phone anyway.
>
> I did a google search on the phone number because I'm always curious about
> who's calling me, and when I did I found out that the number is my
> brother-in-law's business phone. I didn't have it saved in my phone
> because,
> frankly, I have no desire to speak to my brother-in-law, and we never do.
> Unless we're in the same room together, but how likely is that to happen?
>
> Wondering why he'd possibly have my phone number, much less use it so
> clumsily, I called the number back. Maybe there was an emergency I was
> supposed to know about? My sister, who the brother-in-law belongs to, is my
> dad's primary link to reality, and the one I'd expect to hear from should
> he
> stop being so cheerfully healthy.
>
> (By cheerfully healthy I mean something totally different, which we'll get
> to later.)
>
> I called and no one answered, so I left a message. "Dude, you called me? Is
> there something I should know?"
>
> Okay, I didn't call him dude.
>
> It was probably an innocent butt dial. These things happen. I accidentally
> dial people all the time. If you're in my phone you've probably been a
> victim. Sorry about that.
>
> But I didn't know for sure, because why he would have me on his phone AT
> ALL
> is a mystery. So I called my sister's cell phone. No answer, so I left a
> message. And their home number. No response.
>
> So then I thought, "Hey, maybe I should check and see if dad's okay." So I
> dialed dad, and dad reliably answered the phone.
>
> I couldn't very well say, "Just calling to make sure you aren't in the
> hospital" and then hang up, could I?
>
> So dad and I had an entertaining talk about his travails with the American
> Medical System, which includes the highway robbery by his pharmacy for a
> month's supply of pills and his daily bowel movements. This may not seem
> interesting, but my dad had bowel cancer and had it removed, so it's far
> more useful knowledge than one might think.
>
> At least I think that's what he's thinking. I really have no idea.
>
> He always likes to tell me how his doctor says he's pretty healthy, for a
> man in his condition, and how when he asks his doctor "so why does
> everything hurt then?" his doctor replies that they have yet to invent a
> pill to prevent aging.
>
> My dad never planned to live this long. He was supposed to die decades ago,
> a walking time bomb of a bad heart and unhealthy habits. He outlived his
> third wife, who had her post-husband life all figured out, for when he
> would
> die on her, when she'd dropped dead suddenly. His siblings have all died.
> His friends are gone, though he didn't have that many since once his third
> wife came on the scene she decided who that would be. He doesn't go
> anywhere
> because it's too much trouble. He lives alone, and he watches TV, and he
> argues with the cleaning lady about charging too much. Occasionally he
> accuses her of trying to rip him off. Occasionally he calls his dead
> brothers' widows, just to check in. He has no hobbies. He has no interests.
> If you were to ask him what his youngest daughter does for a living he'd
> say
> she does taxes, which is a very small part of what I do, and if you asked
> him my husband's name there's a pretty good chance he wouldn't have any
> idea. He can't even remember I had a second husband.
>
> He got a new grandson last week. He knew this, but when I called him he
> asked the baby's name, and so I told him.
>
> I give him a break because he's old. However, none of this is new. You
> could
> go back more than 20 years and he was still the same person he is now. My
> sister and I laughed together, 25 years ago, when dad, with whom we were
> trying to have a conversation, kept ignoring anything we said about
> ourselves and kept talking about himself. We could have said anything at
> all
> and he would have responded by talking about something totally unrelated
> that focused on him. And we just laughed about it because what else can you
> do?
>
> Dad's getting older, but he's in good health. He survived heart attacks, a
> stroke, cancer, the loss of one son, and the loss of part of a finger.
> Cabinet making is a dangerous job after all. He might outlive us all,
> waiting in his little apartment, watching TV and bitching about . . .
> everything. One son he "never" hears from but rarely (and there's reasons
> there), the other's the good one, but just had a baby, my sister doesn't
> give him enough time though he relies on her so much she's overwhelmed.
>
> And I'm far away, and not relevant to any of them.
>
> Dad is cheerfully healthy, he revels in his declining health and his
> absorption on his creaky joints and misfiring digestive system. He laughs
> at
> my sister-in-law the pharmacist who wants him to eat healthy, when he's
> never been inclined in that direction. Why start now? He passes his days
> waiting. Time passes, and he waits. He's patient, because he has all the
> time in the world.
>
>
> --
> Monique Colver
>



-- 
Monique Colver