I wish I could deal with this in my thirties....

      There are many benefits to the fact that my parents were older when they had children - they were established as people, making them selfless in the upbringing of my sister and myself. As I got older inevitably my parents did as well, and this past year has been a tumultuous health year for my family.

      At the age of twenty-three, when my mother was going in for brain surgery, she said to me in French, "If I die I want this, that, and the other done." These sort of pre-surgery thoughts are tough for everyone, but at twenty-three I didn't have the maturity to deal with it. Luckily, my mother survived. Score: us-1 death-0. The thing that struck me while she went through months of recovery was how inhospitable the hospitals are - even if they share the same root word. They are not conducive to healing, the room my arbor loving mom was in didn't have a window. I am not a fan.

     Last night we had to go back, and I was reminded again why I hate being there. The hurry up and wait game is exhausting. There are people everywhere, but no one to help you. I know that life is fleeting and one day I will have to bury my parents, but is it so much to ask the almighty Flying Spaghetti Monster to put it off for ten more years?!

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