I hate to break the news, but based on observations of my friends in their mid to late 70s, one is never so old that “game” is unnecessary.
Let me explain… I discussed this couple a few weeks back here. Let’s call them Dick and Jane, after the popular learn to read books of their era.
Well Dick is getting back surgery, and for the past few weeks he’s subtly been testing Jane to see if he can count on her.
Dick usually drives when they go out on dates, and Jane can at times get pretty tipsy. Dick is usually really good about patiently steadying her and getting her to the car and home safely.
A few weeks ago Dick told Jane she needed to dial it back a bit, not get so tipsy. Well typical of a woman today, her response was, “You can’t tell me what to do!”
Rather than listen, Jane started acting like a bratty rebellious teenager. Dick warned her once, then started abruptly getting up, informing her it was time to go, and unceremoniously dropping her off at home to think about it. Last weekend he showed up, no Jane. She hadn’t listened, and so rather than invite her along, he left her to cool her heels.
On Sunday Dick shows up, but no Jane. So of course I ask, and he says they had gone to the Lodge the night before. When he told Jane it was time to go, she told him to go ahead, she’d find her own ride home! And so he did.
As he was telling the tale, his phone rang. Jane. He didn’t pick up.
For days he did the same. No answer.
So I ask him about his upcoming surgery in two days, and if he had a ride. When he said no, he’d drive himself, I said, “Poppycock, that’s nonsense. I will drive you. And I want you to stay at my house a day or two after, as well. So I don’t worry.”
“M’kay,” he said with a little grin.
So the girls and I made up a cozy single bed in the living room, near the bathroom, no need to climb stairs, complete with ultra soft pillows and nice fluffy blankets. I added a cart with rollers so he can easily get to things, and the girls added finishing touches with a lamp, clock, and plant. I resisted adding a teddy bear, thinking that was probably too much.
Last night I send Jane a text. “How are you? What’s up with you and Dick?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “I hear you are taking him to the hospital in the morning.”
“Yes,” I replied. “Let’s talk in the morning.”
She called this morning first thing. And guess who got up at the crack of dawn and drove to Dick’s? Yep. Jane. She was calling from his place.
“Do you want us to pick you up,” she asked?
“Sure,” I said. And so we all rode together, and all seems well. I am unsure if Dick will be recovering at my place but if so, we’re ready!
Jane is with him now, as he changes into his hospital gown and they prep him for surgery. I pray his room will be filled with angels and that all goes smoothly and the surgery brings him relief from the constant pain. (Please feel free to pray for him, too!)
I guess awalt, no matter how old they get. And that dread works at any age, too!
I plan to have a talk with Jane when I get a chance, to explain the test and how she failed it, and hopefully she’ll do different next time!