Getting Old

It is an old but accurate metaphor about our parents becoming our children. Both of my kids are grown, married, and doing well in life. Although I am still concerned for them and enjoy being involved in their lives, I don't feel as though I have to think ahead for them to keep them out of trouble. They are each capable of making important life decisions on their own.

Dad is 91 now, which means that he was 40 when I was born. I never thought of him as old until a few years ago. When he was in his mid sixties he could still walk me into the ground out quail hunting. He worked in the oilfield, taught me how to fish, shoot, use hand tools and play golf, and generally kept me fearful of getting too far off track. It never occurred to me to smart off at him. I knew that there would be a "disproportionate response" to borrow a term from the Israeli/Palestinian conflict.

But for the past couple of years, now, Dad and my brothers and I have taken on different roles. Dad now depends on us to navigate many things that would have been simple for him not too long ago. He still lives unassisted in the house I grew up in and he still drives more than I am comfortable knowing about. But now, we the boys, are his teachers and protectors. I worry about his well-being, and I worry about his decision making. My brothers and I have become the dad, and dad has become the little boy, grateful for time that we spend with him and for the assistance we give him. I'm glad to do it, and with him in his 90's it won't last forever. I'm not really sad about this changing of roles. What makes me sad is knowing that before I know it my children will become my parents.