old home
I'm home for the day, having succumbed to the nasty bug that has swept through our house. The last case was almost a week ago, so I thought I'd dodged the bullet, but, alas, no.
I heard last night that my kids are worried about me (some of them) because I seem to be so stressed. I know how this started. I was at the grocery store with my oldest daughter (20) for a short list of about 5 items. I became a bit disoriented when I discovered that I'd forgotten my list Normally, I wouldn't even make a list for 5 items, but I expected it to be longer and then, as I tried to explain to her, as soon as I'd committed the list to paper, I flushed the items from my memory store so I could make room for more important stuff. We had a houseful of company arriving in about two hours, and the combination of the time pressure, the lack of organization, the crowd at the store, my effort to discuss a complicated set of first year university issues with my daughter conspired to bring me to a state of motionless confusion in the produce aisle of the store. To me, at the time, it made perfect sense. There was too much going on. My daughter was worried, though. And when I explained the whole situation to my wife later, she seemed worried, too. So then I worried a bit. It reminded me of a time, a million years ago, when I was out driving with my dad. He and I were lost in conversation and he discovered that he was lost. What was curious was that we were only a few blocks from home on a route that he drove every day. I spent the next few days worrying that he might have Alzheimer's disease. He was about my age -- perhaps a couple of years older. I was about my daughter's age. So now it's a funny little reminder that, though I feel inside as though I'm about 20, my behaviour is changing in ways to which I'll have to adapt.
To me, the changes are tiny, considering that I'm a 49 year old man trapped in the life of a 35 year old, but to others they must seem larger. I suppose I should consider this as a kind of compliment. If I don't normally act my age, then the subtle signs of time's inexorable march would unnerve them a little.
I heard last night that my kids are worried about me (some of them) because I seem to be so stressed. I know how this started. I was at the grocery store with my oldest daughter (20) for a short list of about 5 items. I became a bit disoriented when I discovered that I'd forgotten my list Normally, I wouldn't even make a list for 5 items, but I expected it to be longer and then, as I tried to explain to her, as soon as I'd committed the list to paper, I flushed the items from my memory store so I could make room for more important stuff. We had a houseful of company arriving in about two hours, and the combination of the time pressure, the lack of organization, the crowd at the store, my effort to discuss a complicated set of first year university issues with my daughter conspired to bring me to a state of motionless confusion in the produce aisle of the store. To me, at the time, it made perfect sense. There was too much going on. My daughter was worried, though. And when I explained the whole situation to my wife later, she seemed worried, too. So then I worried a bit. It reminded me of a time, a million years ago, when I was out driving with my dad. He and I were lost in conversation and he discovered that he was lost. What was curious was that we were only a few blocks from home on a route that he drove every day. I spent the next few days worrying that he might have Alzheimer's disease. He was about my age -- perhaps a couple of years older. I was about my daughter's age. So now it's a funny little reminder that, though I feel inside as though I'm about 20, my behaviour is changing in ways to which I'll have to adapt.
To me, the changes are tiny, considering that I'm a 49 year old man trapped in the life of a 35 year old, but to others they must seem larger. I suppose I should consider this as a kind of compliment. If I don't normally act my age, then the subtle signs of time's inexorable march would unnerve them a little.
posted by Colin at 10:00 AM
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