My husband's mother is one of the most capable women I know.
She can swing an axe, write calculus equations on the white board, keep a garden in the desert. She is meticulous in her abilities and still keeps a budget even though the necessity has long past.
She's lived in a tent in Montana winters and tested atomic bombs during the Cold War. She's collaborated with some of best scientists in the world and if asked certain questions about her top secret work, she says, "I can't say."
She's the kind of woman that if a sky light on the roof is blocked, she'll climb up and fix it...
All her strengths have become her children's problems, because how do you keep an 84 year old woman off the roof when she's determined to do so?
You can't.
The grit and determination that made her successful hasn't settled down. So the daughter who couldn't keep her mom off the roof went and got a neighbor to help her steady the ladder.
When Tony tells me this escapade I'm aghast.
What is it about older people getting on the roof? Is it the last measure of capacity? Is it comparable to wrestling away the keys when they hit garbage cans on the road and you're sure another car or person is next?
I remember my own father's tear when he told me his father was going to die. Grandpa had gotten up on the roof of the family business, had fallen, and was injured beyond repair. Even at the young age of nine, I knew Grandpa shouldn't have been on the roof.
My mother in law's own sister's husband, in his old age, had climbed up on the roof to fix some loose shingles. His wife found him fallen and broken.
I look at Tony with suspicious eyes. Is this something you'll try to do when you're an old man? How do I keep you off the roof?
He recalls the one incident he had as a younger father, on the roof, fixing the swamp cooler. "I slipped and rode the roof all the way to the edge where I caught my self." It was a close enough call that he never attempted roof-fixes again.
Besides, we are a different generation. We call experts, to come and fix the roof. His mother's generation, my Grandpa's, had to fix things themselves. They were more resourceful, less likely to have the cash or less willing to hire it out.
The good news is that my husband's mom made it to the rooftop, checked out the skylight and couldn't fix the problem. The better news is that when it was time to climb off the roof, she found it more difficult than she'd expected.
I believe in my mother-in-law. Stubborn as she may be, her smarts, her skills, and her logic, will serve her, and not the roof.
She can swing an axe, write calculus equations on the white board, keep a garden in the desert. She is meticulous in her abilities and still keeps a budget even though the necessity has long past.
She's lived in a tent in Montana winters and tested atomic bombs during the Cold War. She's collaborated with some of best scientists in the world and if asked certain questions about her top secret work, she says, "I can't say."
She's the kind of woman that if a sky light on the roof is blocked, she'll climb up and fix it...
All her strengths have become her children's problems, because how do you keep an 84 year old woman off the roof when she's determined to do so?
You can't.
The grit and determination that made her successful hasn't settled down. So the daughter who couldn't keep her mom off the roof went and got a neighbor to help her steady the ladder.
When Tony tells me this escapade I'm aghast.
What is it about older people getting on the roof? Is it the last measure of capacity? Is it comparable to wrestling away the keys when they hit garbage cans on the road and you're sure another car or person is next?
I remember my own father's tear when he told me his father was going to die. Grandpa had gotten up on the roof of the family business, had fallen, and was injured beyond repair. Even at the young age of nine, I knew Grandpa shouldn't have been on the roof.
My mother in law's own sister's husband, in his old age, had climbed up on the roof to fix some loose shingles. His wife found him fallen and broken.
I look at Tony with suspicious eyes. Is this something you'll try to do when you're an old man? How do I keep you off the roof?
He recalls the one incident he had as a younger father, on the roof, fixing the swamp cooler. "I slipped and rode the roof all the way to the edge where I caught my self." It was a close enough call that he never attempted roof-fixes again.
Besides, we are a different generation. We call experts, to come and fix the roof. His mother's generation, my Grandpa's, had to fix things themselves. They were more resourceful, less likely to have the cash or less willing to hire it out.
The good news is that my husband's mom made it to the rooftop, checked out the skylight and couldn't fix the problem. The better news is that when it was time to climb off the roof, she found it more difficult than she'd expected.
I believe in my mother-in-law. Stubborn as she may be, her smarts, her skills, and her logic, will serve her, and not the roof.
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