Growing Old

I've been seriously nostalgic about my parents lately. I was talking to a friend the other day about how bad I feel because I know they want to retire soon, but that's just not in the cards for our family. They're approaching that age when most of their friends are starting to do so, and they're left working 50 hour weeks. Yes, they love their jobs, but there's something simplistically satisfying about the idea of being able to wake up to the sound of birds every morning and sip coffee on the porch while reminiscing about how great their daughter has been and continues to be ;p In all seriousness tho, they desire to one day not have to work, but one day isn't any time soon.

They'll be approaching the ripe old age of 70 in 6-7 years... 70. Se-ven-ty. They'll..be..seventy soon. No matter how many times I say it or how slowly or emphatically, the sting is just as caustic; they'll be 70 before I know it. That reality hit me like a ton of bricks, knocked me off my solo stool, and clenched itself around my heart with a grip like the hulk. Seventy? Where has the time gone? Is it selfish to say that I'm mad at them for it? For waiting so long to have me? Living life, pursuing passions, falling in love with the right person, before having me and becoming people I truly treasure? And there I go climbing back up onto my solo stool, blaming them for this discomforting fear inside my chest. Yes, it is exceedingly, embarrassingly selfish. But I'm being honest. I don't want to lose them.

The thought makes me sick to my stomach, the overwhelming dread of an impending loss. I literally want to breakdown into a whimpering mess when I think about it. I've gotten so close to both of them and I treasure our relationships deeply. I don't know how I'd deal without them. The image I have of myself as this independent, grown up, successful young woman crumbles into a helpless child crying because she wants to be held and needs to be fed.Who am I going to call when I'm sick? Who am I going to call to share my accomplishments and proud moments with? Who am I going to call when I need grownup advice on adult issues I've never had to deal with? Who am I going to call momma chick and daddy do, momma and father dear? What am I going to do when I can't be a daughter anymore?

The hardest part is living 1000 miles away from them. Never once have I hated this distance. It's always been a relief, a luxury to escape and live life away from the bird's nest. Grow my own wings, build my own nest. I never thought I'd have to return to a vacant desolate home with only memories to fill that void. I just want to hug them and never let go. Wrap my distressed arms around them until they laugh the awkward "why are you still hugging me, you creep" laugh and playfully push me away. Walk into their rooms and demand their attention by claiming neediness. Kidnap them and force them to spend the day with me, playing it off as a shopping spree for yours truly. Quality time with the people who sacrificed so much for their little chick.

I'm left with text messages and phone calls to satisfy this need to make memories before that's all I have.
I spoke to my dad about it briefly last night, tears dripping down my cheek, holding back the streams and trying to act strong to a man who has no shame in showing me his weaknesses.

I think that's how I'm going to get through this. Honest vulnerability with two people who hold such unique special places in my heart. Pursuing quality conversation and planning trips with no excuses. And never missing an opportunity to snap shot a memory onto film. Before it's too late.


Love your parents. We are so busy growing up; we often forget they are growing old. - unknown.