Yesterday I had a birthday. Not only am I a year older, but I’m also the same age as my mother was when she died. It seems so long ago now. This age I have become once seemed so far out of reach.
But I think I’m okay with it. Yes, it’s something I think about, yet I would guess everyone who has lost a parent holds that “age at death” close to his or her heart like a secret card. It’s been waiting for me to catch up and the time has come to lay the card down and play it.
One thing’s for sure. I need to get back to what I was doing last year when I was eating better and swimming. If only my head would cooperate in the latter regard, then I would eagerly plunge right back into that club pool and swim my laps. Meanwhile, I just might have to take the migraine with me on some short walks. I can’t let them keep me as immobile as they have since November, but the migraines have been extra horrid to me from that time on.
So this is my new year. It is the year of reckoning. Otherwise, I’m afraid I’ll fall victim to the same heart disease that hit my mother at this age. I’m married to a heavy husband who never seems motivated to lose weight. He is my biggest obstacle (eeks with the pun). He keeps different treats around the house and it’s so hard to ignore the goodies. He basically likes meat and potato dishes, nothing too exotic, and mostly corn for the vegetable, iceberg lettuce for the salads. We end up getting fast food far too often. Unsolicited, he’ll sometimes bring me home an extra ice cream, or he buys the specials which mean two-for value meals. Food comes out of the woodwork it seems!
Ultimately, however, it is up to me to be my own gatekeeper. And so at this crazy age I am, I must dig in yet again and try hard to eat healthier and get some exercise in. I don’t like this age, but it’s just a number and my mother’s destiny does not have to be mine. Along the way, maybe the husband I love so dearly will find his own motivation to take off some pounds too. There’s always hope as long as there’s light.