I love the poem “When
I Am Old I Shall Wear Purple” by Jenny Joseph. It’s actually called “Warning”
and serves as a warning to the younger generation as to what to expect when
their parents get old!
I am reminded of this poem as I sit opposite dad at the local pub.
I wonder when did he think it was ok to sit in a public
place wearing a vest that is tucked into his underpants and a pair of trousers
with a broken zip!
To make matters worse the vest has several blood stains on
it from an earlier nose bleed and his trousers are too big for him so his underpants
are clearly visible when he gets up and walks to the toilet.
He seems to ignore my looks of embarrassment as he joins in
with Shirley who is singing his favourite song
“57 Chevrolet.” He is oblivious to the fact that his Rothercare
emergency alarm is on full view. He’s
happy to be out and amongst people who laugh with him, not at him. He is in his
comfort zone.
I wonder what happened to the guy that would never go out without
a tie and when a tie became too difficult to knot he wore a cravat!
Dad has always been a proud guy. He’s an ex miner, ex
magistrate, ex councillor, ex governor… You are getting the picture. So I ask
myself when did that change? Has dad lost his sense of pride or does age really
bring that sense of carefree living that dad is currently expressing?
Now I have this idea that sometimes getting old must make you angry,
frustrated even sad. I also reckon that the only thing worse than getting old
is getting old alone! Now that would make me really sad! Yet Dad rarely shows
any of these emotions. I look around the pub and it seems that everyone else
has a partner then there’s dad.
I think about this. He’s
been a widower for nearly 7 years. He’s the odd number around the dinner table,
He’s the one too many when you are ordering a taxi and he’s the guy whose
freezer is full of meals for one!
He rarely talks about being lonely and in fact he avoids
conversations that might stir a personal emotion. He mainly talks about
holidays and travel. He remembers the places he visited with mum. Always with a
smile. He doesn't talk about mum much and sometimes I wonder if he misses her.
That question was answered recently.
He was talking to a paramedic who had been called to his home
after one of his many falls.
The paramedic had noticed mums photograph and she asked
about her and I listened as Dad spoke of mum in a way he rarely does.
Dad told the paramedic about the holidays we had been on and
how mum organised them all. He was just the driver! As he chatted he reminded
me of visits to Cornwall in his new Hillman Hunter and travelling abroad with a
tent and a trailer. He gave all this credit to mum. “She was a fine woman” he said
Mum and Dad celebrated their Ruby wedding anniversary in the
year that mum died. For 40 years he knew he had never been mums first love. That was George my birth father who died when I was 3 years old. He wasn't even her 2nd 3rd or 4th love. Those
positions went to my 2 sisters and me! So he married mum knowing that he was
well down the pecking order.
I’ve often thought he must have loved mum so much. Moving in
with a woman with 3 daughters who were just about to enter their teenage years
is too daunting for me to even think about!
So why does he struggle to talk about her?
As the paramedics were packing away their gear, Dad went
over to the photo collage that I gave him at Christmas
“Look at all those beautiful grandkids she’s never met’’ he
said
He shook his fist to the heavens and tells the paramedic
that he’s got lots of questions to ask the big guy when he gets there.
Of course he misses mum and he is angry that she was taken
away before her time. This was a rare moment when Dad let his emotions show!
When the paramedics had left I looked at mum’s photograph and
wonder what advice mum would give me now.
Here I am, sitting with Dad who thinks its ok to sit in a
pub wearing a bloody vest. He’s had a fall at midnight but didn't press his
buzzer until 6.am because he didn't want to bother anyone so spent the night on
the floor.
His optician has told him he has no peripheral vision but he
still wants me to tax and insure his car!
He spends his days sleeping and his nights drinking and in
between he reads absolutely anything with print on it.
Do I get angry with him or do I just make him a cup of tea? Of
course I do the latter.
I sit with dad as he
looks through the travel brochure I have brought him and think I will mention
the lack of underwear in the wash basket and the number of empty cans and
bottles of wine in the recycling bin to another day!I will go to the shops and buy clean vests and new trousers. I will leave him details from Age Concern about the dangers of driving after a stroke and with poor eyesight. Maybe he will read the leaflets or maybe he will leave that information on the table and continue to plan his next holiday abroad and think about buying a brand new car.
Who can blame him? One thing is for sure when I am old I’m
definitely going to wear purple!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=81wma4oa0oM&t=28s
When I am old I shall wear purple
When I am old I shall wear purple
