Coping, understanding and dealing with an aging Mom. We do the best we can.
I was watching a video of a young country singer who is really great. He sings from the heart - Mo Pitney, check him out.
I thought maybe I could write a country song, but it didn't quite work. It turned into more of a poem sort of thing:
Getting Old
I bought my mother new shoes today.
Her feet are swollen from old age, I guess.
Anyway, they don’t fit in the old shoes anymore.
I was going to drop them off at the home where she lives.
But I had my own things to do.
I had to play ping pong with the incarcerated kids.
I had to get dinner and have a beer with a friend.
Tomorrow, I’ll take the shoes over there.
To see if they fit, ‘cuz the other two didn’t.
This time for sure, I hope.
Well, it’s not like she’s anxiously waiting for them.
It’s not like she’s anxiously waiting for me, to be honest.
This morning she didn’t say much, so I mostly just sat there.
Maybe she knew, maybe she didn’t.
Maybe I helped, maybe I didn’t.
Maybe there is a reason for getting that old.
But, well, maybe there isn’t.
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