Aging Parents

My parents are very different. In fact, I used to wonder as a child how they ever got together in the first place. I see there differences multiply further the older they get. My mother, the consummate diva, would rather die than give up her fabulous new size 6 and size 8 clothes, so she works out like a crazy person to keep the pounds from creeping back on. She's also careful about what she eats and keeps active with her dog. She is a career woman and revels in the accolades she receives from her peers. My father can barely walk now, uses a motorized chair to get around (or a cane), is diabetic and probably suffers from high blood pressure as well. (He'd have to, with the kind of foods he eats.) He is a minister, but hasn't had a real job in I don't know how many years. I honestly am unaware of how the bills are paid each month. His M.O in the past was to rob from Peter to pay Paul. (BTW, my mother is six years older than my father).

Earlier today, my sister called and informed me that he has just had a stent placed in his coronary artery. She had no idea, until she called to just see how he was doing after, what she thought was a regular doctor's visit. He's resting and she encouraged him to seek out a home-nurse for a while (his wife is older than he is and is having her own issues). She asked if he has medicare and what sort of insurance he uses (she is in the medical field now and was trying to be helpful). She couldn't figure out why he was so hesitant to talk to her about such things. He just kept saying, "I'm fine," and encouraged her to stop worrying. I told her that it would be a cold day before he'd give up that kind of information. My father has always been incredibly paranoid and doesn't share personal information freely. She didn't understand this, and I told her I was just as in the dark about it myself.

I think we're faced with issues now that we really weren't prepared to deal with until much later. My grandmother (his mother) was placed into long-term care earlier this year and is approaching 90. With the depression from being there, I don't know how long she'll hang on. What happens if she passes? I would be heartbroken at losing her, but she's lived a long and happy life. But what if her own son's failing health gets the better of him, is it back to Nashville for me for his funeral? I know I probably sound very insensitive, but I just hate waste. If my father passed, I would be more angry at him than hurt at the loss. He knows better. In fact, he spent a big part of my childhood working out and following good eating habits. Vitamins were all over the house and at 3, I knew who Jack Lalane was.

Perhaps it was his lifestyle as a musician that kept him working so hard at his physique and health, or maybe it's where he lives (everyone in Nashville seems so large to me, now that I don't live there anymore). The temptation to eat out and eat horrible things is everywhere. Southern-style, deep-fried, grease dipped cuisine is everywhere and no one is really concerned that you weigh 300 pounds plus. It's not like L.A. where a perfect-body culture drives people to look good and think thin (of course, this type of thinking can also drive folks to the other extremes, unfortunately). I'm so flummoxed about it all. I think I need to think on things a bit.