"my mom broke her legs in moped accident!"

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"my mom broke her legs in moped accident!"

Postby Micronaut » Wed Apr 12, 2006 8:43 pm

Lest I mislead anyone, my mother is not exactly fitting herself for a walker just yet. Just a few years ago she had to have screws bolted into her legs after flying over the handlebars in a Moped accident.

http://www.seacoastonline.com/news/kerr/3_29kerr.htm

She still works at Piscataqua Savings Bank — at least until she retires this summer — and like most mothers she always knows more about what you’re up to than you think she does.

She’s a tad more absent-minded than she used to be, but still too quick to top in a battle of wits. For the past three decades people have assumed she’s younger than she is. Even though she decided a few years ago to let her hair go gray, she still retains the girlish quality that has long been her hallmark.

Why mothers should never grow old

It was with shock and disbelief that I realized my mom is turning 65 years old this weekend.

How did this happen? Why did this happen? Isn’t there some law of nature forbidding mothers from growing old? (not that 65 is old since you’re really as young as you feel in this age of medical miracle in which my mother’s mother is turning 91 the very same weekend but she’s my grandmother and grandmothers are supposed to be old in the first place.) And if there is no such law, doesn’t it seem like there should be?

Aren’t mothers supposed to always be vital and beautiful, always there with either the cough syrup or the chocolate chip cookies you need at that particular moment? Shouldn’t she be eternally sharp-witted enough to make you laugh and spry enough to chase you down with a knitting needle or spatula when you mouth off? Always feisty enough to put up her dukes to box the old man into good cheer after a rough day?

I know we wonder where the years have gone when our kids go on their first date, graduate high school or college, get married, have kids of their own — but deep within our core we are aware that we’ve gone through the same process ourselves. Our mothers, however, have been there from day one and we’ve had no occasion to consider them as little old ladies. There’s nothing to prepare us for the shock.

Lest I mislead anyone, my mother is not exactly fitting herself for a walker just yet. She still works at Piscataqua Savings Bank — at least until she retires this summer — and like most mothers she always knows more about what you’re up to than you think she does. She’s a tad more absent-minded than she used to be, but still too quick to top in a battle of wits. For the past three decades people have assumed she’s younger than she is. Even though she decided a few years ago to let her hair go gray, she still retains the girlish quality that has long been her hallmark. Just a few years ago she had to have screws bolted into her legs after flying over the handlebars in a Moped accident.

No, there hasn’t been any physical or mental deterioration to cause alarm. Not a significant amount, anyway. (Kidding, Mom.) Mainly, the milestone of her 65th year jolted me as a wake-up call to the inevitable passage of time. Yeah, we’re all getting older — duh, right? But usually we’re so caught up in the day-to-day struggle of existence we’re only reminded of time’s passing when we see it in others. Ridiculous as it may seem, I had such a reminder recently when I read somewhere that the cute little kid from the TV show "The Wonder Years" is 29 years old now and about to have a kid of his own.

But your mother approaching retirement age? Utterly surreal. If anything, we look back at the college cheerleader she was in old yearbook photos and wonder what she was like in her youth, when she was closer to our own age, rather than contemplate the golden years of her future. I mean, let’s state the obvious — if our mothers are getting older, we can’t be that far behind.

I’m not really sure what to do with this realization. Just raging against the dying of the light, I guess. But it’s probably not a bad idea to appreciate the moment while we have it and while we can. I just recently moved back to the area and into the first home I’ve ever owned and once again there was my mom, with homemade kielbasa soup, bread, iced tea and of course, cookies. This weekend she showed up with pillows, a skillet and my dad’s TV. (My father was there too, but we all know these are things only moms can think of.)

So it’s sweet to have my mom close by again, still watching after me as she always has, and still quite capable of doing so. And once she retires, of course, she’ll have even more time to bake cookies and such for us and for her grandchildren — who will no doubt have a much easier time accepting the fact that she turns 65 on Sunday.

D. Allan Kerr appreciates the fact that not all kids have mothers who look after them after all these years. Kerr (the son) may be reached at the_culling@hotmail.com.
Micronaut
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