Putting out Fires

I can’t remember a time in my life when my dad hasn’t been either in the hospital, or recovering from something. We’re used to pain and illness in my family. But its never been my mom before. Yesterday my mom had the first of 3 surgeries for 2 different conditions. She’s always been the strong one. The one who never got sick. The one who took care of everyone else whenever we got sick or had surgeries.

I know that the surgery she had was relatively minor, but it was a wake up call for me. My mom has been my most constant friend and the strongest person in my life. I never even considered before that there might be a time MUCH later than now that I won’t have her. I told Ryan last night that I just couldn’t even think about that.

Interestingly, I don’t ever remember going through the typical teenage angst with my mom. And by the time I was in college, I realized that I enjoyed spending time with her hanging out. We appreciate the same art, interesting food, interesting people… We can sit at a café and chat for hours. If I could grow up some day to be like my mom, I would. She loves her job, she’s admired by the people she manages, she always goes out of her way to make work fun for people, she always surprises me by signing up for things like Dragon Boat races on a whim, she loves to travel, she loves the outdoors, she’s incredibly organized, and she always, always thinks about others before herself.  (Just wish I looked more like my gorgeous mom!  My brother got her features..)

I’m not saying she’s perfect, no one is, but she’s pretty great. Mom, here’s wishing you a speedy recovery! Love you!

On weekend afternoons when Ryan and I find ourselves finished with housework and want to get out for a while, we go down to our local mall, buy coffees, and people watch.  But we don’t just watch; we comment.  And judge.  We’ve gotten so good at this social observation that we find ourselves doing it constantly.  I mean really, who doesn’t get a good laugh out of the lady with the hot pink belly shirt with far too much belly for the shirt?  Or the teenage couple who haven’t heard that mowaks went out in the ’80s.  Or how about the young girls are are shopping for boys more than clothes?  Admit it, you at least make fun in your head.

It occured to me the other day that eventually I am going to be the woman who gains a few sizes when my metabolism catches up, I’m going be an older person trying to dress young, I’m going to be caught picking my nose while driving some day.  See what I’m saying?  And really, would I appreciate people judging me like that?  Probably not. 

Karma will come back to bite me in the ass some day, but until then, the guy with the jeans hanging around his knees is fair game.