Father Time and Mother Nature

You are probably thinking what a strange title for a Cracker Barrel story and you are right. Jean and I have been at the manor for five years. The Mother Natures out-number the Father Times by about six to one. In make believe times, Father Times would marry Mother Natures. Jean and I have been married for 65 years.

You know you are getting old when your kids call you grandpa or grandma and your great-grandkids help you from a bed or chair. You know you are getting old when you are retired and also have kids who are retired or talking about it. We have one retired and one will be in a few months. He has counted down on how many days until he can draw Social Security. You also know when someone calls you “old timer.”  I worked with a person who called me “old codger.” He was a little older than I was.

The workers here are mostly young and they do a lot of chores. They put us to bed, usually with a hug. They wake us in the morning and get us to breakfast and sometimes even spoon-feed us. They help us with our showers and comb our hair, if we have any. I still have some hair but shave it all off so I look like an old Michael Jordan of basketball fame.

Most of these chores my mother did when we were young people. My mother combed a lot of hair. She would chop with a comb like she was cutting wood with a hatchet. Mother had an old Singer sewing machine and she would stay up all night if she had to so we would not go anyplace with holes in our clothes. Now you can buy clothes with holes in them. She would cut our hair with a hand-operated clipper so that we never had long hair. I wonder what she would think of some of the athletes now with long hair and beards.

I guess I qualify for being Father Time. I am 88 years old and I’ll not give Jean’s age but she is a year younger than I am.

My parents did not send us to college but they did send us to the armed forces. They were indeed Father Time and Mother Nature.