The older I get, the more I appreciate humor in my life. I like to remember stories like when my two-year-old cousin started screaming in holy terror because her red Jello moved and jiggled. Her two-year-old brain thought her Jello was alive! And then there was the time my five-year-old became hysterical over our neighbor’s moving, talking Christmas tree. When she heard “HO-HO-HO” coming from inside the tree, she thought the tree ate Santa.
On-line dating in my 40’s, 50’s and 60’s required a huge sense of humor and provided enough material for a standup comic. Daryl once said, “I’m still trying to figure out what’s wrong with you? Why did it take twenty years for you to find a husband?” Well, if Daryl had been the lady sitting next to my date, in the theater, when his meds wore off, and he started barking and talking to the movie screen, he wouldn’t have asked that question. My date simply failed to mention Tourette’s syndrome in his profile. And then there was the traveling salesman whose car was filled with every type of “Ganzo” knife imaginable! Coming up with excuses not to get in his car was easy. I saw “Psycho,” and I was getting Norman Bates vibes.
From growing up, raising a family, and dating until 62, humor has been my best friend. And at 78, standing in my living room, attempting to remember the name of the lady who turns off the lights so I can go to bed, I realize my memory is lost in “Never-Never Land.” I laugh at myself while standing there, feeling quite stupid. I keep telling myself, be patient. Her name is on the tip of my tongue, and it will come to me if I just stand here long enough. And so, I stood and stood and then thought, maybe I should wake Daryl and ask him her name. Instead, I waved the imaginary white flag, surrendering. I lost another battle to old age and went to bed with all the lights burning brightly.
Sleeping with lights on isn’t so bad. Especially in our bedroom, which has always been an insomniac’s nightmare. I’m used to trying to fall asleep with Daryl’s red and green stars flashing on the ceiling, a lit green salt lamp and the soothing sounds (to Daryl) of crashing waves which merge with the humming of my 50-pound oxygenator. Ear plugs and a blindfold would be my sleeping aids of choice if they would not directly interfere with my oxygen cannula in my nose. Being unaware, the first night Daryl added a new toy with ocean sounds to our sleeping entertainment, I was frightened by the thundering sounds which sounded like my husband’s last struggle to breathe. Frozen with fear, I touched his chest and woke him from a sound sleep to make sure he was not dying. That’s when I learned the noise was coming from his latest sleeping toy and unplugged the sound machine.
There are many reasons elderly couples sleep in separate bedrooms. Snoring, restless leg syndrome, CPAC machines are possible reasons, but I prefer the humor and the little bit of romance left in growing old and sleeping together. Besides, some of my best stories come when I’m staring at those twinkling red and green stars and listening to Daryl’s snoring and the oxygenator! Our bedroom is never dull!
