I visited my 101-year-old godmother the other day. When I saw her, I had to hold back my tears. She had called me a few days ago that she had fallen asleep in the table chair and fell onto the floor. She didn’t call for help and felt all right as long as she could move her legs. She did call her one of her granddaughters, who came over immediately. She wanted to take the petit, fragile centenarian to the hospital, who said she didn’t need to go. My godmother is an old-school woman who worked hard all of her life and dealt with all types of challenges during her lifetime. She could handle it. She enjoyed being on her own. Sometimes, we could use some help, and none of us are young anymore.
She had fallen on her face with her glasses on. There were big, dark bruises all over her small face. One prominent bruise was on her forehead, another on the right side of her face, and you could see the imprint from the bridge of her glasses over her nose. I could only imagine her facial appearance a day later. Yet, my godmother was in great spirits even though the rest of us were deeply concerned. I got emotional when she said, “First, we start falling, and then we die.” I never cared for hearing that statement and others from the elderly. I knew that they were serious when they said things like that.
What was determined by all medical experts was that my godmother had blacked out from bending down too low to clean coffee and other stains from the floor using a little amount of bleach. She got up too fast. I’m picturing a 101-year-old cleaning the carpet and inhaling a powerful irritant, using much energy, then immediately sitting down from being tired. Thinking that she had fallen asleep because she was tired, she passed out from the blood flow as her head was lower than her heart and rising too quickly. The same thing had happened to me months ago, except I “woke” up in a wheelchair at a hospital and underwent wires, IVs, and blood tests. I ended up wearing a heart monitor for two weeks. My diagnosis was severe dehydration. That’s another story.
My godmother is very independent. She'll do it herself if someone doesn’t notice what needs to be done around her. Well, she’ll try to. We could do those things when we were younger. The granddaughters and her son offered her to stay with one of them, which she declined. She likes to come and go whenever she wants to and enjoys doing things for herself. Like most seniors, including myself, we don’t want to be a burden. As long as we can do for ourselves, let us be; we’ll let you know when we need help. As we age, we realize the end time is coming; it’s inevitable. Living in our circumstances has taught us how to adapt, positively or negatively. We learned from our parents and those before us that good times and challenging times exist. What we do with those times is up to us to learn from them. My mother, grandmother, and godmother exhibited what it takes to survive. They all told me they wouldn’t be around forever, and neither will I. We are in this world for a short time.
I’ve always tried to push people away because I didn’t want to miss them or be missed. It was an error in my judgment. Some people care and don’t have any other motive but to share that love with you. No matter how old we get, we will have broken hearts and regrets, but it’s never too late to accept love. I guess, eventually, we have to let the barriers down and give love a try. Make peace with those you care about; time waits for no one.