For most seniors, including my son who lounges in the next room on the last evening before beginning his senior year, independence is a bit like a car they inherited but must learn how to drive, often, it seems, by crashing or least denting and scratching it a few times.
They want to try out this idea that they can do (or NOT do) things they have not been able to do before, pretending they know all the consequences of their actions. They are so eager to declare their independence (most of them anyway) that they often fail to notice the errors in judgment.
They are a little like I was some years ago around this time: I had fallen down the stairs carrying a huge bag of clothing I swore I could handle on my own. (NO, I don't need any help! I can do this...). So I began school in a cast and on a cane. After a week, I just knew the cast was not needed. I was fine on my own. (The cast felt like a moist sock and seemed to offer as much support: how could it possibly be serving its intended purpose?).
So I went into my woodshop, hunkered down on the floor, and cut it off. Having boldly declared my own independence, I stood up and immediately fell to the garage floor in pain after one (failed) step. I immediately realized I was not quite as independent as I thought.
The problem: I would have felt like an idiot calling the hospital and saying I accidentally (on purpose) cut off my cast because I thought I did not need it only to realize I do, in fact, need it.
No doubt, when I am a senior (citizen), I will feel the sharp ache of the bones that did not heal correctly. I have learned, however, to let myself depend on the wisdom of others when my own is incomplete or just plain absent. I can only hope my seniors, including my second son, do the same.
What I find most fascinating is the claim of independence all the while leaning hard on me for help of all kinds, which I gladly give because I am the mom. The commenter on FB is right, though; seniors and two year olds have much in common, asserting independence while peering out from behind mom or dad' legs.
Posted by: Margo Kipps | August 15, 2011 at 06:38 AM
I didn't! I swallowed aspirin instead and the remaining pain meds I had. You know, to take the edge off my aching pride...I mean ankle. Good to hear from you, Clix!
Posted by: Jim | August 15, 2011 at 06:17 AM
So... what did you DO? Did you swallow your pride and call the hospital anyway? Inquiring minds want to know! :D
Posted by: Clix | August 15, 2011 at 05:36 AM