Today I had to take my father for his epidural injections to his lower back.  He has a compression fracture, probably due to the manual labor he did most of his life.  The injections relieve the pain for a few months.  
    My dad also suffered a minor stroke about three years ago while vacationing in Greece, so he has trouble doing things with his left hand.  When he gets into the passenger's seat, he needs help with his seat belt.  
    When we finished up with his injections, he wanted to go through a drive-thru to pick up some lunch.  We stopped by my house, because my 12 year- old was home sick.  My dad wanted to see him and give him lunch as well.  
    As we were finishing up lunch, my dad started talking about his waist size.  He proceeds to tell me that he has a 29 inch waist.  I told my dad that is the length of his pants, not his waist size.  My mom started to laugh, because my dad is probably a size 44-46.    Then my dad asks me to get a measuring tape to verify his waist size.  Once I measured him, he accepted the fact that he wasn't a size 29...he said that is probably the length of his pants.  

   My father is 87 and my mom is 85.  They live by themselves in a brick ranch home about ten minutes away from me.  They've worked very hard their entire lives...my father was a maintenance worker and my mother was a cleaning lady at a local school.  
   In the last three years, they've started to slow down and it's really bothering me.  I am very fortunate that they've been relatively healthy for most of their lives.  It's just difficult to accept the fact that now it's my turn to take care of them.  I know it's hard for them to have to rely on other people.  My mom is a very proud woman and doesn't want me to help her out that much.  She wants me to be home with my boys, ages 12 and 15.  I have no problem helping them, because they've sacrificed a lot for me.
   My father isn't driving that much anymore.  He drives as far as the grocery store to pick up things when needed. Tomorrow I'm taking him for pain management injections to his lower back.  He has a compression fracture and it's producing a lot of pain and it's keeping him from moving around a lot. 
   Today, I took my mom to my 12 year-old's basketball game.   She was thrilled to get out of the house.  She has trouble getting around as well, but she says she needs to keep moving.  She has a cane, but she doesn't like using it because she says it makes her look old!  I hope I have her attitude when I'm her age.  She seemed to enjoy the basketball game. When my son scored a basket she turned around and gave the okay sign to my husband.  At the end of the game, she told me that she wanted to come back to watch another game.