Most know if you read my blog that I just recently turned 36 years old. I will be honest and tell you that the first time, I began to feel a bit older was right after I had Lily.
I remember sitting in the hospital holding Lily for the first time, when it dawned on me that this would mostly likely be the last time I would hold a newborn that was my own.
See, I had a very rough second pregnancy with her, was labeled high risk from placenta previa and was even hospitalized and subsequently put on bed rest. I was pretty sure from that alone we wouldn’t be trying our luck for the third. Just too risky and too much at stake being that we really could have lost Lily at 22 weeks of that pregnancy and didn’t want to ever go through anything like that again. It upsets me even thinking about it.
So in that moment, I remembered feeling old and thinking well now I just will get older and what’s next! I know crazy thought, but remember I was a bit hormonal just having a baby and all.
I have managed to push most of those feelings to the side, but turning 36 has made me realize I am now closer to 40 years old then 30 years old.
And most recently, I shared about how my dad was diagnosed with Bells Palsy and had been pretty sick in recent weeks. Well, he had to go for neurological screening just to rule out a stroke. When he went they actually found out he did indeed have a mini-stroke and did not have Bells Palsy after all.
Needless to say, this definitely unnerved me and shook me to my core. I mean I remember growing up with my dad, who is always been tall (over 6 feet) and strong. There was nothing he couldn’t do. He worked for General Motors with cars as long as I could remember and knew everything and anything as far as cars and just general handy man type stuff. He even gave himself the nickname, “Mr. Goodwrench” (my dad lived and breathed GM back then).
Around that time, my brother was born and my parents offered me the larger bedroom, because I was the older sibling now. My dad offered to do it whatever color I wanted. What color do you think this 6 year old girl picked?
That’s right, the pink girl chose PINK! It was 1983 and wood paneling was the thing and so in. So, he went to the lumber yard and found pink paneling and even stained the moldings pink for me. I will never forget how perfect that room was and was all mine, thanks to my dad.
Well, now it is 30 years later and my dad is starting to show his age and yes I know we don’t stay young forever, but watching him need help with things he never really needed help with and what he has been going through the past few weeks has really hit home hard for me.
I do worry as my parents are getting older, but truly have been blind to the years flying by, the aging process, the more defined wrinkles, the gray, thinning hair and so much more. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I would like to keep my parents “Forever Young” if I could. Sounds silly, but still I can’t help myself.
Yet, I know the aging process does exist, but somewhere in my mind, my dad is still tall, young with a dark thick hair and is still capable of making miracles happen for me like that pink bedroom.
In the end, I am just thankful that hopefully we will have more time (at least I would like to think so), even though he can be cranky, ornery and old fashioned at times, he is still my dad. So, if I had one wish it would be that my dad would heed this wake up call, stop smoking and at the very least take care of himself.
He told me after finding out about the stoke, that he wants to be able to dance like he did at my wedding 7 years ago, at my girls (his granddaughters) someday. I will keep that hope alive and try to have faith that he will do that someday, because just like he will also be my dad, he will always be their “Poppy”, too.
See the aging process doesn’t take one thing away and that is the love we feel for our parents and grandparents. That is infinite and “Forever Young”.
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