Leave a light on

Old age is creeping in.   College kids look too young.  Middle age people look normal.  And tonight, oh boy, the real kicker was tonight.

A thought caused by the arrival of 2 people…..

My mom and dad.  Visiting from Denver for Emily’s baptism.

Here we are eating a late dinner/snack of fresh cherries and blackberries and whole wheat bread.  (oh summer, i love you!)

My dad is eating standing up.  My mom is cutting produce in her hand.  And Katelyn, Emily, and Mark are sucking in the stories.

Off to bed, last kisses, lights are turned out.

But wait, we have guests.  “Grant,” I say, “go and turn the light on over the stove and in the bathroom.  I want both on during the night.”

In my head that sentence is finished, “because I don’t want my parents to trip in this unfamiliar place.  I don’t want any broken hips in my house.”  More than just those words was the feelings, deep worry for my parents less forgiving bodies.  

As I closed the curtains, I saw myself in the window. 

I. Am. Old.

I. Am. A. Parent.

I’m so old that I have kids to worry about.

I’m so old that I have started to worry about my parents bones and heads.  This job will not be done until they die. 

I have flashbacks, of my parents, of my in-laws…both protecting their parents during travel.   I think of a hot, Arizona summer.  When I had tiny Alex in my arms, it hardly seemed real that I could worry over him.  He was given to me too easily, and I had yet to develop a true “mother’s worry.”   It still seemed like I was a babysitter, not a mom.  Grant’s parents showed more concern for the grandparents’ safety,  another sort of “parent worry”.    It was odd that they showed more concern that myself, a green mom.   Doesn’t everyone know that new moms have the most worries?   Their strong “parent worry” was foreign until this moment, turning the lights out for bed.  

A dim light switched on over my stove, and I realized that I had just become an old daughter, I had started “parent worry”.   A job that I will keep until they die.  Which I hope is long enough for my own daughters to turn an extra light on.

This post is dedicated to my dear friends and mentors, Tammy R. and Mary A.   This month they both lost a father and mother, respectively.  It has made me more anxious to hug my own parents today, and has probably led to these silly thoughts.   What is far from silly is the sadness that every daughter feels when they lose a parent.  Even if you are a old mother, or a grandmother…the loss of a parent doesn’t become easy.   My prayers are with both families during this time.