All the stories my mother told me are suddenly making sense!
The other day I was in the kitchen preparing a Lasagna dinner. After putting a large pot of water on to boil, I realized I was squinting trying to read the recipe …”is that tomato sauce or paste”…darn, I couldn’t tell. I reached for my glasses and realized I must have left them upstairs in the bathroom where I last used them to decipher the instructions performing a sinus rinse.
I made my way up the stairs- making sounds like someone climbing Mt. Everest- holding on to the railing as if for dear life. When I finally got to the top, I went past the spare bedroom. There on the bed lay the pile of laundry I had dumped there from the weekend. Distracted by the mess, I walked in and began folding. After a few moments, I heard a loud hissing sound coming from downstairs.
Abandoning the laundry- again- I climbed back down the stairs, and went to the kitchen where the noise was coming from. Darn…the big pot of water I had left to heat was boiling all over the stove. I quickly turned the water down. I pulled the lasagna noodles out of the box and placed them in the water. What next? Yes, I need to get the sauce on, I thought. Once more I reached for the recipe book…and again realized I needed my glasses…from upstairs.
Grabbing on to the stair rail, for a second time, I climbed up. Huffing and puffing, I made it to the top just in time to hear the phone ring. I ran into the master bedroom and picked up the receiver. “Hello…oh hi Barbara”. It was my friend Barbara, She had just gotten back from her doctor . She wanted to tell me about the new drug they put her on for her gout. I sat down. I knew I was in for a lengthy monologue. Halfway through her call, I smelled an odd smell wafting up the stairs.
I told Barbara I needed to cut it short as I went down to investigate. Darn…the water in the big pot with the lasagna noodles had evaporated. The noodles stuck to the bottom had begun to burn. Now what should I do about dinner? I guess it is Chinese take-out tonight! I picked up the phone book to look up the number of our local House of Noodles…darn…I couldn’t read the phone book. I needed my glasses…from upstairs.
One more time I clutched the railing, straining with each step. At the top, I passed by the laundry pile again- making a mental note that I would need to take care of it soon. I went into the bathroom to retrieve my glasses only to find they weren’t there. Darn…where were they? I looked in the spare bedroom under the pile of laundry. I searched the master bedroom and the master bath with no luck.
About that time I heard the door open. It was my husband home from work. He called out to me that he was home. I made my way back downstairs, and was met with, a kiss on my cheek. “By the way, I found your glasses in my car, I brought them in in case you needed them” he said, as he handed them to me. Plopping himself down on the couch, and kicking his feet up, he nonchalantly asked, “what’s for dinner, I’m starved?”
Taken from the series: Retirement and the Golden Years of Aging Gracefully.
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