A week ago today my mother, who will turn 80 in a couple of months, fell and broke her hip. Since she has fairly advanced osteoporosis, it was a bad break. When I spoke to her by phone the next day, she was waiting to go into surgery, and she hadn't eaten since the accident. She sounded weak but cheerful, and insisted that she wasn't in pain; she'd refused the painkillers she'd been offered. I had a hard time believing that a shattered hip wasn't painful, but both my parents are stoic and consider complaining -- particularly about the aches and maladies of old age -- a particularly tiresome form of human activity.
One of the first things my mother mentioned was that she was worried about my father. Dad just turned 80 this August and has been having his own health problems. As she lay in bed waiting for surgery, she was fretting about how he'd manage on his own, and how he'd care for their beloved, batty dog, which not long ago yanked my father so hard across a patch of ice that he slipped and broke several ribs... Read more


