PASSING THE TORCH

I love birthdays. I get presents I don’t really need, I get to blow out the candles, I even get the first cut of the cake and I love the way my 3 children patronize me as if I’m senile.

I guess there comes a time in one’s life when the children and parents reverse roles. They tell you what is good for you, and you accept it, and once you reach that point there no turning back. In my brood, Andrew is a gastroenterologist, Scott is a chiropractor, and my daughter, Julie, was a surgical nurse for many years. So maybe they are accustomed to telling others what to do.

The first sign of change, in my case, happened at a restaurant where we all met for dinner.
They, my adult children, were having a conversation and talking as if I were not there. “He looks pretty good for his age,” Andy remarked, “although I wish he would cut back on his walking. two miles a day is too much.” Scott said, “I tried to get him to try swimming but he said he’d rather walk.” My daughter asked, “Do you think he would like a little of my fish?”

You might excuse the rude behavior by saying I do not hear very well, (O.K. I admit my hearing is lousy) in a group situation. But I learned how to deal with people speaking indistinctly; when they try making eye contact, I just smile my Forrest Gump smile. I also noticed they spoke to me in a mild shout, and spoke slowly, as you would to the Village Idiot. “Would -you- like-another-drink–dad?” I nodded no, just to make a little conversation.

All of this is no problem for me because I recognize it all as a normal progression in life.

I admit. I’m am ready to pass the family torch to whoever (or whomever, I think they’re both correct) will carry it.