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The Goddess Speaks Genevieve A. Suzuki |
Mother at 70 is
doing fine, but goddess
has problemsWhen my mom turned 70 last month, I thought about the responsibilities that came with having an elderly parent. My mom was ahead of her time when she had me at 41 years old, and, unlike my friends, whose parents are newly retired and flying to Las Vegas once a month, I worry constantly about her health and well-being.
Recently, however, the shoe has been on the other foot as it seems I am the one growing older with increasing health issues.
Take the weight gained after college. Upon entering the real world, I didn't realize that eating chocolate Hostess cupcakes and a bag of Doritos while guzzling cans of root beer would have such adverse effects on my waistline. Taco Bell was no longer a friendly port in the storm, and burgers, while not as bad as pizza, were bad enough to instill after-dinner remorse.
It finally came to a head when the night before a big event, I had to go shopping for the all-time rudest wake-up call: the Girdle.
The Girdle -- which is referred to these days by the more innocuous name of "body shaper" -- works like shrink wrap to keep bulging bellies from wobbling like Jell-O.
"Wow, that looks pretty good," said my husband, Derek, who has also put on weight but alleviates it with the next notch on his belt.
Being praised for wearing the Girdle well is like being told, albeit in a nicer way, "You look better now that your cellulite has been shrink-wrapped."
After I got home that night, I peeled the Girdle off and tossed it into a corner. The next day, I put on sweats and headed to the gym. I called my mom to tell her the good news of embarking on my fitness journey, and she congratulated me before adding proudly that she hasn't worn the Girdle for several years. "In fact, I've lost weight," she boasted.
Score one for the 70-year-old.
I HAVE ALSO noticed that when I turn my back while my husband is talking, his words become garbled like the teacher's from "Peanuts" cartoons.
"Where do you wah wah wah wah?" he asked.
"Huh?"
"I said, wah wah wah eat wah wah wah watch."
"Say again?"
He let out an exasperated sigh. "That's the third time I asked you wah wah wah wah."
I finally gave up and nodded. I realized too late that I had agreed to eat at Pizza Hut and watch professional wrestling for Valentine's Day. I immediately made an appointment to see Dr. Gene Doo to check my hearing.
When I entered into Dr. Doo's office, I noticed that other patients in the waiting room were about my mom's age. I felt young and vibrant -- until I was put into this noiseless chamber, equipped with headphones and told to press the button every time I heard a tone.
Most of the time, I hit the mark. And then there was my left ear, which apparently refused to help me ace this particular exam.
Dr. Doo looked at the paper and looked closely at me.
"You're so young. You need to come back and take another test," he said. It seems I might have partial hearing loss in my insolent left ear thanks to years of playing in a band.
I returned home only to be teased with, "What?" "Hah?" "What'd you say?!"
My husband tried comforting me by assuring me that stores must offer "cute" hearing aids in case I needed one. He believes hearing-aid companies are outfitting Hello Kitty characters to the tiny devices that are purposely hidden in the ear. Or that perhaps DKNY and Calvin Klein will start designing for the hearing-impaired with style.
Sighing, I called my mom to tell her that I wasn't ignoring her during our last visit; rather, I just couldn't hear some of what she said. She promptly informed me that while I may be going deaf, her hearing seemed to be improving, rivaling that of only her dog.
So Mom at 70 is getting better with age while her daughter is on a downhill slide at 28. "Don't worry," she told me. "It'll be OK when you get to be my age."
At this rate, by the time I'm her age, I'll be lucky if I can still digest hard foods, see straight and remember where I live.
And if I'm really lucky, DKNY and Calvin Klein really will have fashionable hearing aids, and the Girdle will have been worked out of existence.
Genevieve A. Suzuki is a freelance writer in Honolulu.
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