Did I mention
that my daughter is a PSW? That stands for Personal Support Worker, or, in the
lingo of my younger days, and what I believe they are call in the States, a
`nurse's aide'. During the fifteen months that she lived with us after the
dissolution of her marriage, she attended college to train for this career. I
think it's one of the best decisions she's ever made, as she truly enjoys her
work.
But.
She's been a
blessing to me, she really has, but now that she's a professional, she tends to
see the world—including her mother—through a work-related
lens.
My daughter
works primarily in the community, calling on the ill, the palliative, but mostly
the elderly. She performs myriad tasks to help these people. She bathes them,
dresses them, and even does some minor housekeeping for them. She takes good
care of her clients, the bulk of who are female, even to the point that she gets
them small gifts at Christmas. She refers to them, en masse as her "old
ladies".
Do you have a
clue about my `but' yet?
I'm 57 years
old. All right, 57 and 9/12th years old. I suppose in some ways, I
remind my daughter of some of her clients. I walk with a cane. Because I do have
arthritis, some days are definitely worse than others, and I move very slowly on
those days.
But...I am not
an old lady.
Middle age is a
time of flux. Things do begin to change, as our bodies age and our minds try to
adjust to the next level of volume, to accommodate all the accumulated knowledge
we have amassed over our lifetimes (do you like that explanation for
intermittent forgetfulness? Feel free to use it, no charge, my gift to
you!)
But...I am not
an old lady.
My daughter
really has been a blessing to me, especially lately as she chauffeurs her
father in the morning so I don't have to endure interrupted sleep. She comes
once a week to lend a hand with my housework, and just this past Sunday, she
came over and set up my new computer, and made the transition seamless for
me.
But...I am not
an old lady.
We spend a fair
amount of time together, and she goes with me sometimes when I head to the mall,
or just out and about. And she is ever helpful. She is proactive! There are
dozens of small ways she wants to help me, because, "this is what my old ladies
like," or, "this is how my old ladies do things."
I'm learning not
to mention any small complaint or change in the way things are for me, because
my daughter's eyes light up and she nods, and proclaims that I am...just like
her old ladies.
I recall a
television show a few decades ago, "The Golden Girls". The oldest of them,
"Sophia" used to get away with totally outrageous behaviour, explained by the
fact that she'd had a mini stroke which destroyed that part of her brain wherein
discretion lives.
Now, I'm not
wishing for anything like that, but I am waiting for the day when my daughter
comes by and tells me about her new feisty, cane-wielding client, and how she
has to be ever so sweet to her, and careful of what she says or
else....
Because on that
day, I plan to become just like one of her old ladies.
Love,
The only dream I've ever had was to be a published author. It was a dream formed in childhood, and held on to through the business of growing up. Life intruded, as life does, and my dream was put on hold. But now, through hard work, faith, and luck dream has evolved into reality.
Romance is a wonderful genre that accommodates every other. Comedy, mystery, paranormal, suspense, or science fiction, romance embraces them all. Erotic romance gives all of that, and so much more.
For readers who want all the best traditional romance has to offer – great characters, compelling stories and a happy ending – and who crave that extra bit of heat – I invite you to read one of my novels and let me know what you think!
No comments:
Post a Comment