Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Aging not-so-gracefully

“Don’t ever get old,” my father likes to say, to which my mother chimes, “Hey, it’s better than the alternative!”

Aging is okay if you can maintain a tolerable quality of life. In that regard, my parents are fortunate. I hope I will be as lucky.

Mary came by for lunch yesterday and we were talking about aging as scoliosis patients. We both agreed it’s scary to think about what shape we’ll be in when we’re ready to activate our respective AARP memberships.

The reality of flat-back syndrome (http://tiny.cc/aJi8H) and its gradual progression was starkly evident as I recently flipped through pictures from my college graduation 25 years ago. What great posture I had then, and how naïve my smile, thinking it would last.

Now I cannot bear the sight of myself walking, bent forward at the waist no matter how hard I try to straighten. I rationalize that my hip plays a part in my plight, and that will be corrected when I finally cave and get a new joint. But the flat-back will remain – and possibly worsen.

Writer Howard Phillips Lovecraft said, “The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.”


That pretty much sums it up.

After all the challenges I faced during my teens –- and those I’ve realized as a wife and mother -- I don’t consider myself timid in the face of adversity. Fear of the unknown is a formidable foe, but I'm steeling myself for the battle.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Grandpa


One of the greatest gifts a parent can give a child is to teach them how to manage their money.

It’s a lesson I’m in the midst of with my daughter, J. At her age (17), the equation is pretty simple: Summer Job + Money Earned = Car. Obviously, there’s a learning curve but – after several missteps – I think she’s starting to catch on, albeit grudgingly.

She’ll thank me later. OMG, my mother used to say that! Which is appropriate. My knack for money management came from her, and she learned it from her father – my grandpa.

He was the patriarch of my extended family. The reason Grandma cooked a big, Italian meal that brought us together on Sundays. And I was the apple of his eye. His first-born’s first born, and the only granddaughter. To Grandpa, I could do no wrong.

When I think of Grandpa, I remember loving bear hugs, church, cigars, mixed drinks, American-made cars and Al Jolson tunes. During his lifetime, he was a radio personality, a bartender, an auto parts salesman, a battery expert for the U.S. Navy’s Landing Ship Transports during World War II, and a minstrel show performer. He was active in our church as an usher and “knight” and, to this day, when I go to church I feel like I’m visiting him.

Grandpa had a rich, booming voice that resonated when he sang around the house. He assumed the best of everyone, never met a stranger and was quick with a smile and firm handshake.

My continuing revision of Growing Pains allows me to return to a time when he was vibrantly alive, seated at the head of the dining room table, asking for my permission to have his customary, post-meal cigar.

I miss him, but I’m doing my best to ensure his legacy continues. Which is why J is going to learn how to efficiently handle her money. She may appreciate my efforts later, but it’s really Grandpa she should thank.

Friday, July 3, 2009

Making a Difference

June 2009 was the first-ever National Scoliosis Awareness Month. I was surprised and pleased to recently learn I was part of the National Scoliosis Foundation’s “Making a Difference” slide show (http://tiny.cc/9MEcv) marking this historic observance.

Thanks to my friend, NSF president and CEO Joe O’Brien, and everyone at NSF for including me, and for all you are doing to raise awareness about scoliosis and its treatment.