So, I asked, how does it feel to be 52? A lot like 51?
Yes, it's not a whole lot different.
My best childhood friend, Julie, arrived Tuesday from her home in Germany to visit her parents, and today is her birthday. She is spending the evening in the emergency room with her dad. He has a multitude of physical issues, including congestive heart failure. Intense pain in his legs and feet resulted in the decision to take him to the hospital by ambulance.
She was planning to come in June, but after she hung up from a recent phone call with her parents (her mom moaning in the background and her dad crying), her husband simply said, "Go."
Julie said she's had good conversations with her dad. As she sits with him tonight, she places her hands on his head as he cries in pain. She is glad to be here, even though it's hard.
We're at the age where roles reverse.
We become comforters rather than comforted. It is a strange sensation for me, but because of the comfort my parents have given me, I have been strong enough for the hard times sitting in hospital waiting rooms.
I will go to be with her tomorrow, for the comfort now comes from each other.
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