I recently looked at my bullfrog wattle and I realized I now have Mom’s chin when she was 59.
This was Mom’s life at the age I am now: 61.
- She had spent years supporting / spoiling a non-working husband who stayed up all night and slept all day. I’m there too.
- Her bladder decided to go out about that time. Another parallel.
I then wondered if her libido decided to employ its turbo thrusters, as mine has. (Not as bad as last summer. Still pretty bad.)
I remembered that about six years after Dad died, a long-time family friend came by to paint the ceiling. He came by every day for a week, and at the end of the week, the friend, a widower, asked Mom if she might like to get married.
I remember Mom was gracious when she turned him down. She did find it highly amusing when she recounted it later. She swore she hadn’t done anything to encourage him but make him lunches and listen to his confidences. I believe her.
2 responses to “Mom at My Age”
Maybe those lunches were *really* good…
KC – more likely, Mom was vivacious and understanding. Plus, Mom probably served sandwiches, and that meant Mom put a loaf of bread on the counter with some lunchmeat and said the condiments were in the refrigerator door.