I was pleasantly surprised by our conversation the other day, when I expressed my fears about being alone in my senior years. You pointed out that since neither of you is married, I would always have a place to be. I will assume this means I will be living with one or both of you when the time comes for me to be dependent.
At some point in the not-too-distant future, I know the tables will turn from my being a caregiver to a care receiver as I earn senior "senior" status. I see some privileges that come with that honorable title. I don’t need my children and grandchildren to put applesauce, a bib or diapers on my shopping list, but instead, show tickets and a suitcase.
Not exactly palm reading. The blind man can not see the visible lines on your palm. A man with no vision has no way of seeing your skin color, eye twinkle, hair style or that stain on the front of your shirt, so you’re in luck because your character is not judged by first appearances. You may have appearance but you are not invisible.
Until I was about 13 years old, I believed my mom to be a natural redhead. Big surprise: she’d been coloring her hair for years! When she became homebound, and subsequently entered a nursing care facility by her own choice, she was determined to keep the allure of being a redhead, as she had done her entire life. I see her weekly, and get “reminders” every month or so that she needs a “cut and color,” something I am happy to do.