Falling Anvils

I think that there’s some truth to the old axiom that parents try to control their children’s lives until they get old at which point the kids try to control theirs.  Of course, I never did anything my folks wanted me to do.  Now they’re not doing anything I want them to do, and I learned my manipulation techniques at the hands of certified masters.  I guess the difference is that I’m in this Program that tries to teach me about powerlessness over people, places, and things; eventually I’ve learned to quit banging my head against the wall.  At least I quit when the blood flow becomes too heavy or the wall is particularly solid but not a minute before that.

I’d like to see my parents move into some kind of retirement home or assisted living arrangement for safety reasons, convenience, and the social benefits they would gain by being around other people more than they are now, which is damned little.  However, they don’t want to do this.  I suspect they’re a little afraid about so much change and all of the work and losing control of their stuff and lives.  It was hard for me to give up so much of my stuff and move into a much smaller apartment, and I did it voluntarily.  My folks are sane, alert people and they get to make these decisions on their own.  They’re not asking me for my advice and when I give it unbidden they flick it aside.  Why would this surprise me?  I LOVE getting unsolicited advice.  It makes my day.  I always do exactly what the person sticking his or her nose in where it doesn’t belong advises me to do.  You betcha.

OK, then.  How about that?  Why don’t I keep my mouth shut?  Why don’t I try shutting the hell up every now and then for an unbelievable change of pace.  See what happens.  I can always go back to my futile efforts to mold the world to my iron will if I find I just can’t stand not running the show.

Eventually one of them is going to get sick or hurt and they’ll lose control of the transition in whatever form that takes.  I’d like to see them more in charge of the process but it doesn’t appear that it’s going to go down that way.  

Maybe that’s OK, too.  What do I know about it?  I can barely keep my own affairs in order.  Why makes me think I’m qualified to manage someone else’s affairs?

Maybe I’ll get hit by a falling safe or anvil tomorrow and none of this will be important in the future.

What with all of the rehab work from the anvil injuries.