On my way home from work today, my mother told me that her friend, Rita, was in the hospital. (Yes, I talk to my mom during my drive home from work every day and yes, I use a bluetooth so it’s all hands free.) Anyway, she was pretty upset because Rita has been her buddy ever since my stepdad, Al, passed away. They go to the senior center where all the old guys hoot and holler at them. (That’s because they’re the hotties of the geriatric group.) The go to the casinos. They go shopping. They have dinner together. And now that is all in jeopardy.
My mother is not sure but Rita is probably in her late 70′s early 80′s, although she looks much younger. Unfortunately, the rest of her knows how old she really is. And today, her heart was beating too fast and they took her to the hospital. The doctors say she has a very weak heart. My mother has her own aches and pain, but at least her heart is strong. She’s 73.
My mom has had her share of watching friends pass away. Al was almost 20 years older than her. They retired to Florida in 1979 and lived there for over 26 years. Most of their friends were closer to Al’s age – couples who they went out with, a group of guys who played the band at the local watering hole on the beach, and the couples from the “lodge”. One by one, they all passed away. One of their friends died right on their front law. He fell over, turned blue and despite his wife’s efforts to resuscitate him, he died – just a few steps from my mom. Continue reading